A Kick to the Face

Eliana rolled over on the small bed in the detention room, her backside bumping against the hard mattress.

"Ouch!!"

A sharp pain instantly slapped the sleeping Eliana awake. She cried out and realized she was still in detention.

She was only supposed to be held for one day, right?

Eliana recalled Mrs. Brown's words from yesterday and peeked cautiously by the door.

Did she come out?

She tentatively took one step.

Did she really come out?

Both her feet were outside the door, her eyes darting around from the corners of her eyes.

No one rushed over to yell at her and send her back, so her courage grew.

Eliana cleared her throat, straightened her collar, and pretended to elegantly prepare to walk forward.

Actually, she had wanted to put on an act yesterday of being an elegant, knowledgeable, and aloof person who had returned from studying abroad... but there was an unexpected situation.

It's okay, today is a new day, they can forget the past and start anew!

Eliana puffed out her chest proudly, then saw a small pile of gifts by the door.

Huh?

She instantly shriveled into a small ball and squatted by the pile of gifts, her eyes sparkling.

She actually has gifts—and so many!

Like a kitten discovering a pile of dried fish, she sniffed around the gifts, then swiftly scooped them up from the bottom and scurried back into the detention room, the door slamming shut with a bang.

Hehehehe, she wants to take a good look.

She rubbed her paws together and began to unwrap the topmost gift.

A small note fluttered down from behind the gift bag. Although the handwriting wasn't particularly beautiful, it was clear the note's owner had tried hard to write neatly. It was from Harry.

It was a fist-sized, painted in the pink that straight men loved, and sprinkled with tiny glittering rhinestones. Even in the dim detention room, it sparkled brilliantly.

Wow!!

Eliana's eyes lit up, and she excitedly placed the crown on her head, like a little dragon that had found treasure.

So shiny, I love it.

She excitedly spun around in the small detention room, then continued unwrapping.

The second package was a book. Without looking, she knew it had to be from Hermione... but it was from Ron???

Eliana looked at the signature again in shock—Ron???

Ron sent her a book???

Curiously, she peeled off the plastic wrap—How Young Wizards Can Cultivate Proper Aesthetics.

Note: Suitable for young wizards aged three to six.

Eliana: ...

She knew it, he couldn't say anything good!

Eliana gritted her teeth secretly, but then she thought about what she had given Ron and smiled.

Meanwhile, in his dormitory, Ron cried out as he unwrapped his gift: "Who sent me a set of practice papers??"

Who could it be? Eliana, who was locked in the detention room, didn't know.

Hehe.

The next gift was a very large box filled with lots of dried meat snacks and many portable Muggle-packaged chicken legs. The gift was from... Hermione???

Eliana somewhat silently pushed the two gifts together. Perhaps, was there a possibility that Hermione and Ron lived together, and they accidentally mixed up their gifts when sending them?

...Okay, probably not.

Sorry, she knew it was a bit far-fetched to think that, but the gifts in front of her were also outrageous.

They were truly outrageous.

Eliana hadn't even recovered from unwrapping the next gift.

The next gift was a set of new clothes from Mrs. Brown. They were very thick, with a hood, and the edge of the hood had a circle of fluffy white fur, and two pointed little fox ears.

Eliana put them on immediately, carefully securing her pink crown between the two ears, shaking her head proudly.

The remaining gifts were prepared by the children from the orphanage. There were a few milk candies wrapped in homework paper—decorated with colorful crayon drawings—a hair clip, a hair tie, paper cranes she had folded herself, and someone had even made her a necklace.

It was a string she had braided herself, threaded with various buttons she had collected, glass beads, and a beautiful little stone.

It looked a bit strange, but Eliana happily put it on around her neck.

Now she was covered in bits and pieces, looking like a walking wind chime.

The wind chime's lips were curved in a smile.

She tied the last hair tie with a small bell to her braid, her braid jingling as she skipped downstairs.

Wait, did Snape not give her a gift?

Eliana felt herself from head to toe, then rummaged through the gift boxes on the floor – confirmed.

Snape really didn't give her a gift!

She had written him a card! And given him homemade cookies – even though they weren't very tasty, she hadn't dared bring them back to the orphanage – but they were still handmade, a token of her affection!

And if you looked closely, you could tell they were cookies.

Why wasn't he being reciprocal?

She pouted unhappily, but quickly put it aside.

It was fine, when she got back to school, she'd storm the dungeon entrance and demand it from Snape.

Brave Eliana doesn't do internal conflict!

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching for the author. Maybe they just changed their name!

She went downstairs, her braid jingling with all the little trinkets.

Mrs. Brown was busy in the kitchen as usual. Eliana perched on the doorframe, carefully observing her expression – it seemed okay – so she spoke in a small, high-pitched voice, "Good morning, Susan."

Mrs. Brown glanced at her with an unreadable expression.

"Oh dear!" Eliana squeezed closer, hugging Mrs. Brown's arm and acting spoiled, "I know I was wrong, I won't take the school curtains anymore."

She rubbed against Mrs. Brown like a cat, the fox ears on her hat bobbing, looking very well-behaved.

Mrs. Brown's heart softened. Her face was still stern, but she finally spoke, "Wash your hands and eat your breakfast."

That was that.

Eliana beamed and skipped off to wash her hands.

Because they were preparing for the main feast that evening, breakfast was a bit simple: a glass of milk, two slices of bread with butter, and a boiled egg.

Eliana finished them in a few bites and said to Mrs. Brown, "I'm going to Chinatown after breakfast. I might not be back for lunch, so don't save any for me."

Mrs. Brown immediately forgot that she had been deliberately trying to be stern to teach Eliana a lesson. "What are you going to Chinatown for? Are they open on Christmas?"

"They're the only ones likely to be open on Christmas," Eliana said. "I made some small crafts at school, I'm going to see if they'll buy them. I'll bring back some delicious food for you all as a treat."

Mrs. Brown's stern expression completely fell apart. She paused. "Eliana, you don't have to do this. The orphanage isn't your responsibility, and we've only raised you for a year..."

"La la la, Susan is lecturing,"

Eliana covered her ears and ran outside. "Wait for me to come back, oww!"

She took too big a step and accidentally pulled on her recently spanked bottom, causing Eliana to yelp in pain.

"Be careful!" Mrs. Brown shouted, a mix of concern and amusement in her voice.

Eliana, who had already run far away, gave her an OK sign from a distance.

Chinatown was just as she expected, with almost every shop open. Chinese people are always hardworking, no matter the field.

Eliana walked into the micro-carving shop, her trinkets jingling, and successfully sold her walnuts for a high price of 1.5 pounds per walnut – although it was much lower than the price of the walnuts on the shelves inside, she was already very satisfied.

After all, once she got the hang of using magic, it wasn't difficult for her to do this, and she even got the walnuts from the kitchen. This was practically a risk-free, profitable business!

And she had carved a lot. In short, when she walked out of the antique shop, her face was beaming.

Hee hee hee, I'm rich.

Eliana patted her bulging pockets, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

But her next stop wasn't a restaurant or a grocery store, nor was it directly back to the orphanage. She planned to go to Diagon Alley.

Five pounds could be exchanged for one Galleon at Gringotts, but a Galleon had more purchasing power in the magical world than pounds sterling in London.

To put it simply, Harry on the Hogwarts Express bought almost all the snacks from the trolley for only eleven Sickles, which was about 0.64 Galleons. But if you went to any random bakery in London and bought two or three cakes – even avoiding the fancy cream cakes – the cost could easily exceed one pound.

Another example, the most authoritative newspaper in the wizarding world, the Daily Prophet, cost five Knuts per issue. In London, she heard – mainly because she couldn't afford it – that the cheapest newspaper cost at least 30 pence.

She hadn't calculated it carefully, but now that she had, Eliana's eyes turned red. Did the London newspapers publish secret techniques for attacking America that they dared to charge so much?

Do you think my life is worth thirty pence?

Alas, she was poor, so she had to be so meticulous with her calculations.

The thrifty Eliana marched towards Diagon Alley and, as she wished, exchanged her pounds sterling for a small bag of Galleons. Now she could go shopping.

She wanted to buy some non-magical-looking snacks to take back, like Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Balls. No child disliked candy.

Eliana imagined the warm welcome she would receive when she returned victorious with a large haul of spoils, her face breaking into a triumphant grin.

She happily stuffed the money bag into her pocket and jumped down the steps outside Gringotts. Before she could steady herself, someone bumped into her head-on. She flew two meters along the ground and landed squarely on her backside.

Her already injured bottom was dealt another heavy blow.

"Owwwwww—"

She crawled on the ground, writhing in pain. "Who's walking around with their eyes closed, bumping into people!"

The person didn't reply, not even an apology. Their black wizard robe swished as they moved quickly, about to disappear around the street corner.

"Who the hell are you! If you'd bumped into me any earlier, I would have fleeced you dry." Eliana grumbled as she got up from the ground.

It was just because it was a holiday and she was in a hurry to finish her shopping and go home early; otherwise, she would have definitely let him know what it meant to get your wallet stolen in a collision.

"You don't watch where you're going, are those two holes under your eyebrows for breathing? You bump into someone, don't apologize, and that slit under your nose is only for eating, right?"

She huffily reached for her wallet, intending to pat her Galleons to comfort herself—only to find it empty.

Where was her money????

Damn it, this bump had actually made her lose her wallet!!

How could there still be such primitive thieves in the wizarding world!!!

Eliana scrambled to her feet and, furious, chased after the thief.

The person ahead seemed to sense something, quickened their pace, and disappeared around the street corner.

Stealing Eliana's money was like stealing her life; she charged forward like an angry beagle, yelping.

"Stop! Stop!"

As she rounded the corner, she saw a person in a black robe turn halfway around—she recognized the movement; Dumbledore had taken her Apparating like this before. Damn thief, they were going to flee with the money!

In her desperation, Eliana let out a howl and pounced.

A familiar, faint scent of mugwort tickled her nose, mixed with the subtle aroma of potions.

This damn thief was quite fragrant; apparently, they used the stolen money to pamper themselves.

—Damn it, this was all her money!

Eliana's thoughts drifted for a moment, but her surging rage quickly consumed her mind again.

A dizzying sensation swept over her, and before her lay a completely unfamiliar street.

But Eliana was too enraged to care about anything else. Forcing down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her, she pushed herself up from the person in front of her, the world still spinning, and then kicked them.

"I finally caught you! Robbing a young girl in broad daylight, I'd like to see what kind of scum you are!"

A deep, familiar voice, like a cello being plucked by silk, rang out with icy fury:

"Rich!!!"