A/N: This ficlet was inspired by Demoiselle Kyota's fic make believe. It's so good. Seriouslah. Oh, and thank you to my beta, Blakeface. He's awesome. LOVE YOU, CDM!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Whoa, I actually haven't written for HP in ages.
Albus knew he could place silencing charms around his room while Ariana had her fit downstairs. The Ministry would never know, and he could work on his letter to Gellert in peace. He didn't thought, and continued to scrawl things on his piece of paper. He could hear his mother shouting, and when he listened more closely he could hear Abeforth trying to comfort her.
With a frustrated sigh, he threw his quill down on his parchment. He wouldn't be able to finish his letter now. Shutting the door so Ariana could not wander into his room and mess up his letter to Gellert, he cautiously entered the living room where Ariana was calming down from her recent fits.
The fury rose in him, whenever he saw one of her fits. He would always silently curse the Muggles that attacked his sister, and was proud of his father for attacking them back. No one would ever know how happy he was, when he thought about Muggles being submissive to wizards. It would ensure that no Arianas would ever happen again.
Nearby, was a vase that Ariana had shattered during her fit. It was their mother's favorite vase, created with translucent purple glass. It lay shattered and broken on the floor, much like Ariana herself. Broken things were considered to be worthless, and even if that wasn't the immediate reaction to a broken thing, no one would be able to appreciate how many pieces it had taken to create the work of art.
He moved to repair it, until the setting sun hit it. He was momentarily distracted by the way the light was playing off the broken shards, and hit the wall, like ribbons flowing in the wind. He hadn't realized how beautiful it was, despite it not being perfect. Ariana had noticed it too, and she stared at it with a delighted grin on her face. Then she noticed the broken glass on the floor. She looked from the glass to Albus, then back to the broken vase. "Al-." Her face screwed up as she tried to finish his name. "Bus. Albus," she finished, her face still screwed up.
"Yes?" he asked quietly. Ariana stared at him blankly, not registering what he just asked. He saw Aberforth out of the corner of his eye, sneering at him. Of course Aberforth was basking in the fact that Albus couldn't get her to respond. "Yes, Ariana?" he asked a little louder.
She jumped, as if she were startled by Albus's presence. She looked at the broken glass, and remembered what she had wanted to say. "I . . . bad?" she asked, pointing to the broken vase and pouted. "Broke." Tears began pooling in her blue eyes.
Albus kneeled down and clasped her hands, shaking his head. "You're very good, Ariana," Albus said gently, feeling unnerved by how distracted and unfocused his sister's gaze was. "You're a very good girl." The praise seemed to soothe Ariana and she pointed again at the vase, making her much more observant. The light returned to her eyes. "I can fix it," Albus said, waving his wand at the vase. It repaired itself, looking as if it had never been broken in the first place. There were no cracks, or seams, nor was there indication it had been broken in the first place.
Ariana clapped her hands together enthusiastically. He stood up, patting her head and returned to his room. "Again! Again! Albus, again!" she squealed, pointing to the vase as Albus closed the door. He sighed, sitting back at his desk. His thoughts drifted to the vase, and how he had fixed it with a wave of his wand.
If only Ariana could be fixed that easily.
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