Whenever she waves her hands over it, it dances for her. Aberforth isn't making it do that. Something inside of Ariana just knows how.
"We're not like them," says Albus. "We're not like the Muggles. We're special. When you're old enough, you'll be special too."
"Where are the strings?"
She laughs and holds her hands behind her back. The boys...what did Albus always call them? Muggers? No, Muggles. The Muggle boys. The ones who crept through the hole in the hedge.
Why do they look so angry at her?
"Don't force her." Aberforth shakes his head.
Albus presses the wand into Ariana's hand again and gently wraps her fingers around it. The stick of wood throbs gently in her hand; just holding it gives her the same warm, tingly feeling she'd had when-
"NO!" Ariana screams, as the wand lets forth a ray of light which demolishes one of the household's nicer vases.
Albus just stands and watches the pieces tumble down. They shatter when they hit the ground.
The day they broke her.
She doesn't think about it anymore. She won't let herself. She's built a wall around that day, and the greatest army would never be able to tear it down.
Sometimes, though, she can see through the cracks.
"Where are the strings?" He's more insistent now. His friends look edgy.
Impossibly, the doll dances on.
The blonde boy produces a bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back, and hands it to her.
"Ariana," he says, grinning, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if what happened to you could never happen to anyone else?"
"Ariana?"
Ariana, obscured by the cloud of dust her fleeing assailants kicked up behind them, was lying face down in the dirt. Her blood runs in tiny crimson rivers. Her eyes won't focus. Her legs won't move. Everything hurts.
"You understand that no one must find out about her? She'd be dragged off to St. Mungo's in chains. God only knows what they'd do to her there. She'll never really be our sister again, no matter what happens..."
"Where's Father?" She's asked the question a million times now.
"He's never coming home, Ariana," says Albus.
Because of you, he doesn't say.
"This will be your own special place, Ariana," says Albus. "You'll have to stay here from now on, to make sure there aren't any more accidents."
Their basement looks the same as ever. It's dank, and dark. Aberforth has brought down some flowers that carry with them only a ghost of the garden's marvellous perfume. Ariana appreciates the gesture.
Mother only nods gravely.
"But I want to play outside," Ariana says, pouting.
She's crying in the basement, clawing at the walls, trying to tunnel through them with her cracked and bleeding fingernails. Sometimes, when she's like this, the light comes out of her hands. It feels almost like...that time. The thing she can't remember.
The first time it happened, the tears stopped as she marvelled at how beautiful it was.
Then her brothers stormed in to see what was wrong, what had exploded, and it became very clear to her that she mustn't do it again.
Some days, it feels like everything she does is wrong.
She just can't make them happy.
She's in the same ragged dress, playing with the same doll, in the same dust. There's a smile fastened on her face, rather like a patch over a tear to cover the damage below. Her brothers are watching her.
They, too, are pretending to smile.
I can't control the light.
Why is that so wrong?
She dreams of the stars, of the wind in her hair, of bird song.
"She simply refuses to do magic, and then when she has an emotional outburst, things like this happen." Albus nudges the wreckage with his toe.
"It's not her fault..."
"A-Aberforth?" She's sniffling.
"Yes?"
"Am I special?"
"Yes. More than you can ever know."
He holds her tighter.
Ariana is crying again.
It's completely irrational and she knows it. She is not a prisoner. It's for her own good. It's for everyone's good. They simply can't let someone as uncontrollable as her walk free around the neighbourhood.
It's hard to convince her instincts, though. Right now, Ariana's clawing and scrabbling and struggling and she doesn't even know who's holding her doesn't know if she's whispering or screaming or thinking Let me go let me out let me out LET ME-
She never means to make the light come out, and she doesn't know how to stop it.
The afterimage fades from her eyes, and she looks down to see what's lying at her feet.
Mother.
She knows that there are tears running down her cheeks, but she felt oddly numb inside.
Why won't Mother wake up?
She nudges the body. It used to be someone who loved her and cared for her. Now it's only meat.
After some time, Albus discovers them: Kendra, dead, and Ariana weeping helplessly over the corpse. He doesn't look angry, only shocked and saddened.
She prays he isn't angry.
It's not her fault. It's not. Someone did this to her. Someone made her like this.
It's not her fault.
It's not.
Aberforth is the only one who dares to hold her while she cries.
"She can't control herself!"
The three of them are fighting again. Lately, it seems like that's all they do. They scream and argue and it doesn't stop until something gets broken. Usually, it's just something lying around the house. Sometimes, it's a bone.
Honestly, they're worse than alley cats.
She can't stand it.
She's always at the centre of every argument.
Somehow, this time, she finds herself literally so, feebly trying to stop them, wanting to hold her brothers and soothe them until the anger and sorrow go away.
And then, one of them makes the light come out.
It's more beautiful than anything she has ever seen.
One fine morning, Ariana is sitting in a meadow. Her brother Albus is off in the distance. When he sees her, he breaks into a run.
Laughing, she hurries to meet him. "Albus! You're finally here!" She pauses. "You're different."
This time, the smile isn't pasted on. There's a twinkle in his blue eyes. "So are you." He embraces her. "I can't tell you how much I missed you."
For the first time, she's crying with joy. "You did? Even after I was so much trouble?"
"Of course," he says. "Don't worry. Everything's going to be alright now."
"Mother wants to see you," she says, composing herself.
Holding hands, the pair walk on to meet what awaits them.