Halloween Eve

The fulfilling days slipped by silently like water. Eliana was so immersed in her own world that it was a long time before she heard the news that Harry had gotten a flying broomstick.

But that didn't stop her from being shocked by the news.

"What did you say? You got a brand new, latest model Nimbus 2000?"

Eliana's eyes widened, and the light from the torches on the wall seemed to cast a golden veil over her face, making even the fine downy hairs appear golden.

Harry shifted his gaze as if he'd been burned. "Yes."

"Who gave it to you?" Eliana pressed, not letting up, her face right up close to Harry's.

Harry felt as if the nearby candlelight was burning his face. "Professor McGonagall."

"What did Professor McGonagall give you?" Eliana's voice rose.

Harry patiently repeated, "A Nimbus 2000."

"Who gave you a Nimbus Two Thousand???"

"Alright, Eliana, you can ask Harry a hundred more times, Professor McGonagall already gave Harry the Nimbus 2000, it's the latest model."

Ron, annoyed by the conversation repeating itself countless times beside him, interjected grumpily.

"No, why?" Eliana stammered, her whole being dazed by the news.

It wasn't that she particularly wanted a broomstick—she still threw up whenever she got on one, and even seeing a tree branch made her physically nauseous—she just couldn't believe that Professor McGonagall (emphasis), would personally pay (emphasis), for Harry (gritting her teeth), to have a Nimbus 2000! (Her teeth were about to shatter!)

A brand new Nimbus 2000! That was hundreds of Galleons! Did Professor McGonagall like Harry that much?

Why? She was the one who finished every task first, actively reviewed and previewed, listened attentively in class and interacted with the teachers, and her homework and essays were always Outstanding— she was that well-behaved, so why wasn't she Professor McGonagall's favorite student?

If anything, it should have been Hermione. When the two of them could transform needles, Harry's matchsticks hadn't even moved.

Eliana's gaze swept over Harry from head to toe like a knife, earnestly searching for any qualities he possessed that far surpassed hers and that she had overlooked.

"Why does Professor McGonagall like you so much?" she asked sourly, her gaze lingering.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine under her stare. He said weakly, "Perhaps it's not just a gift... it's because I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team and needed a broomstick? You know, I'm a Seeker."

That made sense.

Eliana bit her lip heavily and suddenly deflated.

It was true, Harry had become the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Seeker. As Head of House, it was very reasonable and logical for Professor McGonagall to provide him with essential equipment... after all, Quidditch matches were highly valued at Hogwarts.

And Harry did have a talent for flying.

Just like when she participated in an arithmetic competition back at the orphanage, Mrs. Brown had bought her a new fountain pen.

So she could only blame herself for not having a talent for flying and not being able to join the Quidditch team to bring glory to the school.

Only outstanding people are liked by others, aren't they?

Who others like is their right, and it's their freedom to give gifts to whomever they want. You haven't contributed anything, so why should you have a possessive desire over someone else's affection and choices?

Eliana admonished herself in her heart.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I was overthinking things. You fly wonderfully, keep it up." Eliana stood up. "I'm going back to the dormitory now."

Harry also stood up abruptly, meeting Eliana's somewhat surprised gaze. His mustered courage deflated like a leaky balloon.

"Uh, Eliana, I was going to say, do you want to try my broomstick?"

Harry said, blushing and stumbling over his words.

Hearing Harry's generous offer, Eliana felt a rare flicker of guilt—Harry was so nice, and she had been secretly jealous of him just now. She really deserved to die.

Pah, she didn't deserve to die. The fact that she could feel a little jealous of Harry meant she thought highly of him; otherwise, why wouldn't she be jealous of others?

Eliana was very good at forgiving herself.

"Thank you, Harry. But I'm a bit busy lately. If I need it, I'll ask you."

She took a couple of steps, then stopped and said to Harry again, "Thank you, really, Harry."

"Oh, no need, no need." Harry waved his hands frantically like an idiot. "If you want to try it, you can come find me anytime."

Eliana smiled at him and then trotted up the stairs.

Unbeknownst to her, at some late hour of the night, the dormitory was pitch black. Everyone else was asleep, their breathing long and shallow.

Eliana lay in bed, watching the bright moonlight stream in through the partially drawn curtains. The small floral pattern on the bedsheet was clearly visible.

Her gaze drifted aimlessly with the moonlight on the sheets, and in the peaceful silence, her eyelids gradually closed.

Harry's beautiful broomstick unexpectedly reappeared in her mind.

Would someone give her such a precious gift in the future?

Eliana turned over, thinking hazily, It's fine if no one gives me one. I can't afford to reciprocate anyway.

...And no one will like her this much.

She doesn't even have a good friend yet.

The next day, when she was awakened by the morning light, Eliana was still a little groggy—when had she fallen asleep last night?

Then she remembered the little worries that had plagued her before sleep and buried her face back into the pillow with a sense of shame.

She's old enough now that in the Muggle world, she'd be in middle school. So why is she still bothered about not receiving gifts and not having friends?

Immature, so immature!

Eliana berated herself in her mind.

She burrowed into the soft pillow like a petulant piglet, then abruptly sat up and punched the pillow.

So what if nobody likes her? She likes herself!

So what if she has no friends? Who would want to be friends with those immature kids who can't even get an E on their essays and don't study properly anyway?

So what if nobody gives her gifts? When she grows up, she'll buy them for herself.

Two of them, and she'll use one and throw the other away!

Eliana hummed as she climbed out of bed.

She must be too idle lately to have time for such idle thoughts—she'll go to the library and cleanse her restless soul with knowledge.

She walked out of the Gryffindor common room with her schoolbag on her back and smelled the strong scent of pumpkin wafting on the wind.

Only then did she realize it was the eve of Halloween—how could she forget such an important festival?

In the past, the children at the orphanage loved this holiday the most. On this day, they would use their accumulated treasures, such as unknown bird feathers, worn-out but clean blankets, and balls of yarn of various colors, to dress themselves up in strange ways. Then, they would openly go to every house on the street, knocking to ask for candy.

—This was the day they received the most and were looked down upon the least. Even the most eccentric old lady at the end of the street would give them a handful of not-so-tasty candy.

Then they would pile the candy they collected high and play various games around the table, celebrating by shaking their heads and wagging their tails like little dragon whelps celebrating their hard-won spoils.

A sense of anticipation welled up in Eliana's heart—Halloween at Hogwarts should be even more different, right?

Halloween in the wizarding world should be more exciting, richer, and more fun, right? She wondered if Headmaster Dumbledore would invite some famous people to Hogwarts to liven things up?

It really made one look forward to it.

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