[HP] The Tweed River flows

Wind in March, rain in April, bring flowers in May.The coming of May Day means that the real spring has arrived.

The sky was clear and the sun was as warm as honey on toast.White and red wildflowers unfurl their delicate petals, filling the air with their sweet scent.Tall maypoles were erected on the open lawn in front of the castle, and bright ribbons fluttered gently in the breeze.

May Day is a very ancient festival, which has nothing to do with history and religion, and is purely to celebrate the recovery of all things.On this day, young men and women will go out of the room, put on white clothes decorated with red and green ribbons, dance around the Maypole, choose May Queen, and feel the coming of spring.

I've never been to a May Day event, or more accurately, any public celebration.For this festival, it can be said that I look forward to it more than anyone else.

My mother sent me a long dress for the festival early on.The pure white feather gauze hangs down to the ankles, as white and light as clouds; the long silk ribbons and tassels sway gently, like willow branches swaying in the wind.There are no complicated trims or expensive fabrics, but even the subtleties such as cuffs and collar flowers are dotted with elegant patterns.The mother's aesthetics is the same as her personality, introverted but refined everywhere, traditional and unconventional, fully interpreting elegance and lightness in the simplest way.

I sighed, and touched the fabric with my fingertips, feeling the soft and slightly cool texture.No matter the style or fabric, this skirt is perfect and impeccable.Why is she so diligent?I had mixed feelings that maybe she wanted to show caring in this way, but I was not used to this kind of intimacy after we had lived without interruption for so long.

But I still picked up the skirt, compared it to my body, and turned around in the mirror.

As if tailor-made, the tailoring fits the body shape almost exactly.

She knows my size?I stared blankly at myself in the mirror, feeling a little dazed for a while.I wanted to reject the warmth she gave me, but there was still a faint sense of guilt welling up in my heart.Is this what she wants?

Just as I was fascinated by the mirror, Syl came back.

"It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, "Is it a May Day dress?"

"Yes."

"It's so beautiful," she said enviously, her lingering eyes moved from the collar to the belt inch by inch, "My mother has never had such skillful hands. She can only boil potions and make patches."

My eyebrows trembled involuntarily.

"Where did it come from?" she asked casually, still admiring the dress.

"I—she prepared it for me."

Syl raised her head and sighed, "I said before, she still cares about you."

I was silent, wrapped the ribbon on the skirt around my fingers, and lowered my eyes in noncommittal.

"Okay ok...don't mention that," she said surrendering, focusing instead on the dress itself. "Why don't you put it on, Helena? Try it on!"

At her insistence, I had no choice but to take off my black school robe and put on a long skirt.Syl couldn't help but combed my hair and tied it into a high bun on the top of my head.After everything was done, she took two steps back, stared at me as if admiring a painting, and suddenly smiled slyly, and said, "Are you ready, Helena? I swear, you will be the most eye-catching person on May Day this year." one."

"Really?" I blushed slightly, feeling a little embarrassed.But another picture dimly emerged in his mind—it was a sunny afternoon, and it seemed to be the eve of a grand celebration, Rowena Ravenclaw, wearing a crown and going out in full dress.

is it possible?What if I can match her demeanor?

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Growing up, the only evaluation I received about my appearance was that I looked like my father. Unfortunately, all my concepts and standards of beauty came from my mother.My mother has never been keen on grooming her appearance, but even if she just wears a simple plain dress and casually picks up her long black hair that flows like a waterfall, it will be unforgettable.Whether intentionally or not, anyone standing with her would be overshadowed.I never had much confidence in how I looked in front of her.

But everything changed at the age of 15.

I clearly remember that the first moment I set foot on the lawn, I attracted countless eyes, including envy, amazement, and jealousy.The girls praised the beauty of the clothes one after another, and the boys' eyes often followed me.Complimentary words flooded in like a tide, and I was overwhelmed by the endless surprises.I am not good at dancing, but there are countless people who invite me; I am not good at communication, but there are still countless people who come to strike up a conversation.Like the stars holding the moon, I danced one after another, almost becoming the soul of the whole celebration. The laurels of "May Queen" fell on my head without a doubt, and wearing a simple crown, my petty vanity swelled to unprecedented heights.

The world is fair, I proudly tell myself, it gave me an unfortunate childhood, and it will definitely compensate me in other ways.As if overnight, I became the favored darling of the gods. Talent, beauty, family background, blood... These things that the world pursues all their lives have already been easily held in my hands.More importantly, these are all innate wealth, no matter how hard you struggle, they cannot be compensated through acquired efforts.

At that time, I took the gift of fate as a matter of course, reveling in my own reflection, without awe or gratitude, but I didn’t understand that beauty and talent, as well as other things, are not only gifts from God, but also fatal □□. "Brilliant young people often drown in their own talents", Professor Slytherin once warned me, but I left it behind.These glorious "gifts" eventually lost me.The difference is that last time I was reminded by Syl to keep me from sinking, but this time, even she couldn't stop me.

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Helena dances at the Maypole.Barrow watched her from afar.A few other friends were chatting—May Day celebrations aren't that new to sixth graders.

"What do you think of her?" Patrick asked suddenly, without warning.

"Who?" Baro came back to his senses.

"That little girl from the Ravenclaw family, I didn't even realize she was so big," Patrick said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, squinting his eyes and looking in the direction of the Maypole, showing a trace of uncertainty smile.

"Not bad, what's the matter?" He said dryly, gripping the cup tightly and looking away.

Patrick swung his glass, took a sip, moistened his lips, and said, "I want to pursue her."

Silence for a few seconds.

"Okay," Barrow's throat moved and he made a muffled sound.Then he raised his head and drank the rest of the wine.