Author's note: I've always been fascinated by Ariana Dumbledore and her story. She is such an interesting character, but we know so little about her or her condition after the Muggle boy's attack. I've seen some people suggest she became a mute, crazy, or even that she was normal afterwards. I've always thought that she was none of these. Instead, her mind had retreated into itself, leaving her forever like a young child.
PS. This story was inspired by the song from Paramore Brick by Boring Brick.
Albus Dumbledore sat on the parlor sofa, drinking a cool glass of lemonade on a warm summer day. Not far from him sat his younger brother, Aberforth, curled up in a chair reading Hogwarts, A History for likely the tenth time. Through the parlor window he could see his sister, Ariana, playing in the garden outside. He had to keep a watchful eye on her, make sure she did not get into trouble. The garden had been designed specifically to keep her safe, with the rose bushes all having their thorns cut off and high hedges surrounding the place. There, she could be safe.
Albus smiled to himself as he saw Ariana playfully chasing a bright yellow butterfly along the grassy lawn. In the past several weeks, he had to keep an even more careful eye on her. The poor girl hadn't even realized what she had done, what had happened to their mother…that she had caused it. He couldn't even tell her what had really happened. Instead, they had told her Mother had gone on a trip and would be back soon.
"Is she with Daddy?", Ariana had asked, bright blue eyes shining with innocence, her long blonde hair falling in tangles down her back.
"Yes, dear sister,", Abe had told her. In a way, the two were together. It killed him inside, lying to their sister. But, even if he tried, she would not understand. It wasn't that she was stupid, or mental. She was just special. Ever since that horrid day, her mind had retreated inside itself. Albus feared that, even though her body may age, that she would always have the mind of a young child.
Albus laughed as he saw Ariana had finally caught the butterfly and held it prisoner in her clasped hands, and was leaping for joy. His laugh quickly died as he saw his sister open her hands to inspect the creature-then rip one bright yellow wing of, it fluttering lifeless to the ground.
"Abe!", he called and immediately ran into the garden, his brother just behind him.
"Ari, what are you doing?", Albus asked incredulous.
"Look, Al,", she said, holding up the injured animal.
"Why?", asked Abe.
Seeing the shock on their faces, their sister only stared at them in confusion. "I was helping it,", she stated uncertainly.
"How are you helping it?", asked Abe, who had managed to return his voice to its normal calmness. Both men knew the risk of frightening or angering their sister. Although she was most often sweet and kind, she could become dangerous when she was upset.
"Al, do all insects have wings?", Ari asked her eldest brother.
"I believe most do,", replied Albus, trying not to stare at the hurt animal still held in their sister's hands.
"Do all insects have such pretty wings?", she inquired.
"No,", admitted Abe.
"Well, it's not good for the butterfly to have pretty wings when the other insects don't. Then the other insects won't like him. They'll hate him for being different,", she stated in her dreamy, childish voice.
"But, sister, it is good to be different,", Albus said, bending down to his sisters level.
She shook her head violently, eyes wide. "No! Different is bad! Bad things happen if you're different! People who are different are freaks!", she exclaimed in a rush.
Al took his sister into his arms, hugging her tightly. Once she had calmed down, he pulled her away so that he was looking directly into her bright eyes.
"No, Ari, different is not bad. Being different is what makes you special, it's what makes you, you.", he told her.
"If every animal looked exactly alike, would they be interesting to observe?", asked Abe, who had always had a great fondness of nature. Ariana seemed to think over this a moment, then said slowly, "I guess not,".
"You see, the wings of a butterfly are what make it beautiful. It's what makes it a butterfly. The other creatures may not have such detailed wings, but they have other details about them that make them special. No one has the right to say the butterfly is a "freak". We are all "different" in our own ways.", Albus began.
"I'm different than Al, and Al is different than you, and you are different than the butterfly. That doesn't make us freaks. It makes us unique.", added Abe.
"Do you understand?", asked Albus. The girl shook her head in agreement.
Smiling, Aberforth took his sister's small hand, and led her back to the house, her skipping along beside him, the entire butterfly incident forgiven and forgotten. Albus waited until the two were inside before drawing out his wand from his cloak pocket. Turning to the half-dead creature fluttering about on the ground, he waved his wand, and soon the fallen wing had returned to its master. Well again, the butterfly flew off into the sunlight, the matter forgotten.
Al sighed, and wished there was some way to show Ariana that those wicked boys had lied to her, and that magic did not make you a "freak".