On Christmas Eve, some people were falling in love, some were watching the sea, some were having the time of their lives, and one poor soul was sitting in a laundry room, miserably chewing cabbage.
Raw cabbage, at that.
Eliana stretched her neck like a goose and struggled to swallow. She felt even sorrier for herself than the Little Match Girl. At least match heads probably had a little oily flavor, right?
"Eliana," Mary whispered from the laundry room doorway, nervously glancing around, "Mrs. Brown wouldn't let us bring you food. She locked the kitchen door. We saved this cabbage from our own dinners—there was stew tonight, and it was hard to take any."
That made it even sadder. Her two cabbage leaves had come out of the mouths of the younger children.
Eliana savagely bit into a leaf, then stopped. "Our orphanage kitchen has a lock?"
Mary scratched her head, looking baffled. "This is the first time I've found out it has one."
She fell silent, ears practically pricking up like a wary rabbit's. "Eliana, I have to go. I think Mrs. Brown's checking the bedrooms tonight."
She scrambled away as fast as she could.
Before Eliana could swallow her mouthful of cabbage, Mary was gone.
Only the empty laundry room and the brimming washbasins kept her company. Her life was getting more miserable by the minute.
Those damned velvet curtains didn't look heavy, but once they got wet, their weight was enough to finish her off.
If the French flag had been made of this stuff, the French wouldn't have been able to perform their traditional surrender ceremony on rainy days.
Sniffling, Eliana held up her hands, swollen like pig trotters from washing curtains. With her equally swollen backside sticking out, she stared at the mountain of curtains still waiting to be washed. Like Louis XVI, she couldn't see a head anywhere in her future.
Why had she carried back so much fabric? She'd lugged it here, now she had to wash it, and afterward she'd have to lug it all back. What had she been thinking?
It was like stealing a scratch card, only to scratch off an IOU that automatically registered itself in her name.
Eliana was barely alive.
No. She couldn't wash another one. The wretched fabric was too heavy!
She glanced around furtively and quietly drew her wand.
It was a holiday... right? The Ministry of Magic might not even be working... right? And even if someone was, they might not notice one little wizard casting one little spell... right?
Eliana couldn't take it anymore. She pointed at the heap of curtains and rattled off, "Scouring Charm! Scouring Charm! Scouring Charm!"
As long as she didn't stop speaking, it counted as one spell!
The dust and stains vanished from the curtains. In an instant, they looked brand-new—but not at all like they'd been washed.
Eliana hurriedly tossed them into a bucket and jabbed them with a laundry bat until they were soaked. Then—
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The curtains unfurled slowly in the air like flags in a row. Eliana raised the laundry bat and thumped them one after another.
Water streamed off them. Now they looked as though they'd had a thorough wash.
Having come this far, Eliana used her wand to guide them into a neat row on the clothesline.
Done.
Magic was a blessing to humanity!
Eliana was about to sit down for a well-earned rest, but the moment her backside touched the hard floor—
"Ow!!!"
She shrieked and sprang up, clutching her bottom. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts—ow, ow, ow!"
She'd forgotten it was still swollen.
Waaah—
Seeing no one around, she twisted to undo her waistband and craned her neck to look behind her. It really was swollen.
She nearly twisted herself into a pretzel.
An owl suddenly swooped in through the window. Startled by the human pretzel, it screeched, dropped a letter, and flew straight back out as though a monster were chasing it.
"What was that? Can't you deliver a letter properly? No professionalism. No birdly decency."
Eliana grumbled as she picked up the letter. There was no Christmas card inside.
Miss Richie: We have received a report that you used three Scourgify spells and two Levitation Charms at your residence tonight at 8:30 p.m. We must inform you that underage wizards are not permitted to use magic outside school. If you do so again, you may be expelled from your school. Please remember that any use of magic likely to attract Muggle attention is illegal. Merry Christmas. Mafalda Hopkirk Ministry of Magic Improper Use of Magic Office
Eliana stuffed the letter into her pocket in a huff. Who could have a merry Christmas after getting a notice like that?
She fumed. The Ministry of Magic hadn't lifted a finger when an underage little wizard was working herself to the bone. But the moment that little workhorse quietly stepped off the path, it came running to scold her.
If they had so much spare time, why didn't they come wash her curtains?
With swollen hands and a swollen backside, Eliana hated the whole world.
As for the threat in the letter, she didn't take a word of it to heart.
It said that if she did it "again," she "might be expelled." Which meant she was fine this time.
She just had to stop doing it from now on. Future troubles could be left to future Eliana. Future Eliana would have lived longer and be a little older, so she ought to be understanding of her younger, foolish self.
Still grumbling, Eliana limped toward the Detention Room.
She'd find a way when the time came. First, she had to get through the trouble right in front of her.
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