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Grace and Hope nearly knocked Esmie over as they burst into the dormitory, both racing for the same bed with an unbridled, infectious energy that never seemed to dwindle.

Esmie barely managed to step aside in time, stifling a laugh as the twins collided mid-air, each determined to claim the bed nearest the window. Grace, slightly faster, managed to land squarely on the bed, while Hope crashed onto the floor with a loud thud. The younger twin groaned dramatically, shooting Grace a frustrated look.

"You pushed me!" Hope accused, her voice a mix of indignation and disbelief as she glared up at her sister, brushing her dark hair out of her face.

Grace, sprawled triumphantly on the bed like a victorious queen, shrugged with a grin, "All's fair in love and war, sis."

Hope rolled her eyes, getting to her feet as she dusted off her robes. "I called dibs on that bed," she muttered, still glaring at Grace, who now stretched out leisurely, as if daring her sister to try again.

"You were too slow," Grace replied nonchalantly, folding her arms behind her head as she lounged across the mattress, clearly enjoying her victory.

Esmie exchanged an amused glance with Hermione, who was sitting nearby with a book in hand. Hermione shook her head with a knowing smile; by now, they were all used to the twins' constant antics. The bickering was as much a part of their routine as unpacking their belongings at the start of each term.

Esmie, however, remained quiet as she moved to the far side of the room, where her usual bed stood untouched. She had claimed the same spot each year—the one farthest from the window, tucked into the corner. There was something comforting about the familiarity of it, even as everything else in her life seemed to grow more complicated.

As she neatly unpacked her things, Hermione glanced up, her curiosity piqued. "Where did you disappear to on the train?" she asked, her sharp gaze settling on Esmie.

Esmie's heart skipped a beat, her fingers momentarily freezing as she folded a shirt. She forced a casual shrug, trying to seem nonchalant as she tugged on the long sleeves of her shirt, hiding the mark on her arm. "Oh, I was just in another carriage, reading," she replied, her tone light but carefully guarded.

Hermione's frown deepened, her sharp eyes narrowing as she noticed Esmie's nervous gesture. She opened her mouth to say something, but Esmie quickly stood, grabbing her robes. "I'm going to get changed before dinner," Esmie announced, her voice a touch too bright, and without waiting for a response, she hurried towards the changing room.

Inside the privacy of the small space, Esmie exhaled shakily, leaning against the door for a moment to collect herself. She tugged the sleeves of her robes down, making sure they covered her arm before stepping out and rejoining her friends.

By the time she returned, Grace and Hope were still squabbling over the bed, though it had devolved into a series of dramatic sighs from Hope and victorious smirks from Grace. Hermione, now standing by the door, rolled her eyes at them. "We should head to the Great Hall before we miss the Sorting Hat ceremony," she said, her tone firm but fond.

The group made their way downstairs, joining the stream of students heading to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Esmie, walking a little behind, let her thoughts wander as they passed the familiar stone corridors. The start of the school year always felt bittersweet—there was the excitement of returning to Hogwarts, but also the weight of the secrets she carried, secrets she wasn't ready to share.

As they entered the Great Hall, Esmie couldn't help but glance at the first-year students lined up near the front. Their wide-eyed wonder reminded her of her own first night at Hogwarts, and she felt a pang of nostalgia for the innocence of those days. So much had changed since then.

"Oh, look at all this food!" Ron exclaimed as they found their seats at the Gryffindor table, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the lavish feast laid out before them.

Esmie smiled faintly as she sat across from Ron and Hermione, her attention momentarily drawn to the spread of food. When her own plate appeared in front of her—specially prepared without the ingredients she was allergic to—she quietly began eating, grateful that her dietary restrictions were something the professors had arranged without fuss. Only a few of her friends knew about her allergies, and Esmie preferred to keep it that way.

Her eyes wandered across the hall to the Slytherin table, where Enzo was seated between Mattheo and Danielle. Mattheo was deep in conversation with Enzo, while Danielle caught Esmie's gaze and offered a warm smile. Esmie returned the smile, but her thoughts were elsewhere, her mind drifting to the events of the past few months and the uncertainty that still lingered.

The Sorting Ceremony began, and Esmie tried to focus, but her gaze kept returning to the empty seat beside Ron. "Where's Harry?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

Ron, too busy stuffing his face with food, mumbled, "He'll be here."

Hermione shot him a disapproving look. "Can you stop eating for one second? Your best friend is missing!"

Just as Hermione was about to scold Ron further, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Harry walked in, holding a bloodied cloth to his face. Esmie's eyes widened in shock. "Why is he always covered in blood?" Ginny's dry remark echoed from further down the table.

Ron, still chewing, shrugged. "At least it appears to be his own this time," he said nonchalantly.

Harry slid into the seat beside Esmie, ignoring their concerned looks. "What happened to your face?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Later," Harry muttered, waving off their questions as he reached for a piece of bread.

Before anyone could press further, Hope leaned over the table, her sharp eyes focused on Esmie. "So, where exactly did you disappear to on the train?" she asked, her tone light but curious.

Esmie froze for a fraction of a second before forcing herself to smile. "I told you, I was just reading in another carriage," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. She hoped it sounded convincing, but Hope's raised brow suggested she wasn't entirely buying it.

As the feast continued, Esmie's thoughts returned to the Slytherin table. She noticed Draco sitting off to the side, looking unusually withdrawn, his expression blank and distant. Something about the way he stared at his plate made Esmie uneasy, but before she could dwell on it, Dumbledore's voice rang out across the hall.

"Very best of evenings to you all!" Dumbledore's warm, commanding tone instantly silenced the room. "First, I'd like to introduce a new addition to our staff — Professor Horace Slughorn, who will be resuming his post as Potions Master, and as for Defence Against the Dark Arts ... Professor Snape will be taking up that position."

The moment the words left Dumbledore's mouth; Esmie's heart stopped. Her breath hitched; her hands clenched into fists beneath the table. She slammed her fist against the wood, causing Harry to jump in surprise.

Across the hall, Enzo and Mattheo immediately noticed her reaction. Their concerned gazes met hers, and Esmie forced herself to give them a small, reassuring nod, even though she felt anything but okay. Snape wasn't just another professor. To her, he was a looming shadow from her past, someone she had spent years trying to avoid.

"Well, that's not surprising," Hope muttered beside her.

"He's wanted that job for years," Grace added, though her voice sounded distant to Esmie's ears. The announcement felt like a tidal wave crashing over her, threatening to drown her in memories she wasn't ready to face.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Esmie barely heard the rest of Dumbledore's announcements, her mind too tangled in the weight of Snape's new role. She felt suffocated, trapped in a situation she couldn't escape.

As the feast ended and the students began filing out of the Great Hall, Esmie walked in a daze, her steps slow and uncertain. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Mattheo approaching until he gently touched her arm.

"Emmy, are you okay?" Mattheo's voice was soft, his concern palpable.

Esmie blinked, forcing herself to focus. "Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, her voice tight, the words ringing hollow even to her own ears.

Mattheo's gaze softened, and he lowered his voice. "I know about Snape."

Esmie's heart dropped. "You ... you know?"

Mattheo nodded, his expression serious. "I overheard him talking to Lucius once. You don't have to hide it from me. Enzo and I, we've got your back. We won't let him hurt you."

A lump formed in Esmie's throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She had spent so long keeping her connection to Snape a secret, but somehow, Mattheo had figured it out. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mattheo gave her hand a gentle squeeze before stepping back, allowing her some space. As he walked away, Esmie turned and spotted Enzo and Danielle waiting for her near the entrance. Danielle smiled warmly, her presence a quiet comfort.

"Hey, Emsy," Danielle greeted her with a light tone, though her eyes reflected the same concern as her brother's.

Esmie managed a small smile. "Hey, Dani."

"I'm heading to bed. I'll see you tomorrow," Danielle said, giving her a little wave before disappearing into the crowd.

Once Danielle had gone, Theo shot Esmie a teasing look, his smirk widening into a mischievous grin. "Sick of Gryffindor already, Grisky?"

Esmie rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, though her lips curled into a smile. "Absolutely not, and for the record, Gryffindor is taking both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup this year."

Enzo, who had been lounging comfortably nearby with his arms crossed behind his head, raised an eyebrow. A smirk played across his face as he sat up slightly. "You sound awfully confident for someone who's up against Slytherin this year. We've got a strong team, Mie."

"Yeah?" Theo jumped in, leaning forward as if sharing a secret. "That means Enzo's going to have to knock you off your broom."

Esmie burst out laughing, the thought of Enzo — her best friend — going against her in a Quidditch match making the whole scenario seem absurd. "Like that's ever going to happen!"

Enzo, who had been watching her intently, shook his head, his expression softening. "Not happening," he said firmly, his voice carrying a protective edge that made Esmie's heart skip a beat.

She grinned at him, nudging him playfully. "Come on, Sweets. Even if you do somehow manage to knock me off my broom, I promise we'll still be friends afterward. No hard feelings."

Enzo's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than usual, and when he spoke, his voice was both playful and serious. "Just friends, Esmie? I thought we were more than that."

Esmie's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening at his words. She forced a laugh, though it came out more nervous than she intended. "Uh, right — best friends," she corrected, trying to keep things light, even as her heart raced in her chest.

Enzo chuckled softly; his eyes still locked on hers. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at her, a quiet intensity that made her pulse flutter. He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate and walked toward her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her in a warm, familiar embrace, holding her close in a way that made her feel safe. His presence was comforting, and she allowed herself to relax into the hug.

"Goodnight, Mie," he whispered softly, his breath warm against her ear. Then, in a move that sent her heart racing once more, he pressed a light, lingering kiss to her temple before stepping back.

Esmie blinked, trying to process the sudden rush of emotions that flooded through her as she watched him walk away. Her heart fluttered, her thoughts tangled in the moment, though she tried to ignore the way her chest felt lighter whenever Enzo was nearby.

Theo, still sitting at the table, let out a loud snort, breaking the silence. He crossed his arms over his chest, his smirk firmly in place. "Best friends, huh?"

"Yes," Esmie said quickly, a bit too quickly, her voice higher than usual as she tried to regain her composure. She was thankful for the dim lighting, hoping it hid the warmth creeping up her cheeks.

Theo gave her a knowing look, shaking his head. "Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that." He stood up, stretching lazily before tossing her a quick wave. "Goodnight, Grisky. Try not to dream too much about Slytherin winning both cups," he added with a wink before heading out of the Great Hall.

As the other Slytherins filed out, Esmie found herself alone at the long table. She glanced around, her eyes settling on the one person who hadn't moved all evening — Draco Malfoy. He sat at the far end of the table, staring ahead with a blank expression. Something about his posture, the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, made him seem more distant than usual.

After a moment of hesitation, Esmie got up and walked over to him. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to check on him, but Draco's silence throughout the evening had piqued her curiosity. "You look like you've got something on your mind, Malfoy," she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

Draco barely glanced at her, his icy grey eyes flickering for a moment before returning to their distant stare. "Do you ever mind your own business, Esmeralda?" he muttered, his voice laced with irritation.

Esmie sighed but didn't back down. "I just thought something seemed off with you tonight. You don't have to talk to the others, but if something's bothering you, you can talk to me. I know we're not close or anything, but sometimes it helps to talk to someone who's not in your usual circle."

For a long moment, Draco said nothing. His hands rested on the table, fingers curled loosely, but there was tension in his posture that betrayed his calm facade. Slowly, he turned his gaze to meet hers, and for a split second, Esmie thought he might say something.

But then, just as quickly, his expression hardened, and he pulled his hand back from the table, as if distancing himself from her. "You should stay away from me, Esmeralda," he said quietly, his tone colder than before.

Esmie frowned, her heart sinking at the way he shut her out. "No. Whatever it is you're dealing with; you don't have to push everyone away. You don't have to go through it alone."

Draco's eyes flashed, a brief but fierce glint of anger crossing his face. "Drop it, Esmeralda. There's nothing you can do." His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. Without another word, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. He turned and walked away, leaving Esmie sitting there, confused and hurt by his sudden coldness.

Before she could fully process what had just happened, she heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. Turning her head, Esmie's stomach dropped as she saw Professor Snape striding toward her, his black robes billowing ominously behind him. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes held an unmistakable authority that sent a chill down her spine.

"Miss Grisky," Snape's voice was as cold and cutting as always, "is there a particular reason you are still lingering at the Slytherin table long after you were dismissed?"

Esmie's heart raced as she quickly stood up, knowing full well that any excuse she made would fall flat. "I was just talking to Draco," she explained, though the words felt weak even to her own ears.

Snape's gaze narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. "How convenient that Mr. Malfoy is no longer here, and yet you remain."

Esmie opened her mouth to argue, but she knew better than to challenge Snape, especially on the first night of term. "I'll go," she muttered, biting back the frustration that bubbled up inside her. She turned to leave, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

As she walked away, Snape's voice followed her like a shadow. "Ten points from Gryffindor," he said icily, his words hanging in the air like a curse.

Esmie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to keep her temper in check. Of course, Snape would take house points from her on the very first night. It was practically a tradition at this point. She kept her head down and hurried out of the Great Hall, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

By the time she made it back to the Gryffindor common room, the warm glow of the fire did little to ease the tension in her chest. Most of the students had already gone to bed, and the room was quiet except for the soft crackling of the flames. Esmie trudged up the stairs to the dormitory she shared with Grace, Hope, Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on her.

As she pushed open the door, the sound of light chatter met her ears. Grace and Hope were sitting on Grace's bed, talking in low voices, while Hermione was perched on her own bed, a book in her lap. Parvati and Lavender were near the window, whispering about something that made them both giggle softly.

"You're back!" Hope greeted her with a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We thought you'd gone and switched houses on us. Maybe you're a Slytherin at heart after all."

Esmie groaned, collapsing onto her bed and burying her face in her pillow for a moment before turning to face them. "Snape took house points from me," she muttered, her frustration still bubbling beneath the surface.

"For what?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in concern as she set her book aside.

"For taking too long to leave the Great Hall," Esmie sighed, sitting up and rubbing her temples. "Apparently, that's enough to lose ten points."

Lavender, who had been whispering to Parvati, shot Esmie a judgmental glance. "You lost house points already?" she asked, her tone disapproving as she crossed her arms.

Esmie rolled her eyes, too tired to care about Lavender's opinion. "It's not like I asked for it."

Grace, ever the optimist, gave her a supportive smile. "Well, at least it's only ten points. We can earn them back in no time."

"Not if Snape has anything to say about it," Esmie muttered under her breath, her frustration flaring again at the thought of the Potions Master.

Hermione nodded sympathetically, her expression softening. "We'll just have to work twice as hard to make up for it. We can't let Slytherin win the House Cup this year."

"Alright, what I really want to know is what plan you two are scheming," Esmie said, turning her attention to Grace and Hope with a raised brow. She desperately needed a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts crowding her mind.

Grace grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

Hope shared a secretive glance with her sister, her smirk equally devious. "You'll see."

Esmie groaned, realising that pressing them for details was futile. "Fine," she muttered, standing up and grabbing her pyjamas. "I'm going for a shower."

Once she was under the warm stream of water, Esmie let out a long sigh. The water was soothing against her skin, and for a moment, it helped ease the tension coiled within her. It had been a long, exhausting day, and the news about Snape becoming the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor weighed heavily on her, and then there was the swirling confusion about Enzo and her concerns for Draco. It was too much all at once.

After drying her hair and slipping into her pyjamas, Esmie returned to the dormitory only to find that everyone else had already climbed into bed. The room was dimly lit, and the soft sound of breathing filled the air. She settled under her covers, hoping that sleep would come quickly.

But it didn't.

Esmie lay there, her mind still spinning with the events of the day. Thoughts of Snape, the complicated feelings she had for Enzo, and the unspoken worry for Draco all blended in a restless fog. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep, but when it finally came, it brought the nightmares with it.

She woke with a sharp gasp, her chest heaving as the echoes of a particular night during her fourth year came rushing back—memories she had buried so deeply, but that still haunted her in the dark. Esmie shivered, pulling her knees to her chest. The weight of those memories pressed down on her, suffocating her.

Unable to stay in the quiet dorm any longer, she quietly slipped out of bed. The castle halls were dark and empty as she wandered through them, the cold stone beneath her bare feet grounding her in a way that only added to her isolation. It was past curfew, but she didn't care. There was only one person she needed to see, the only person who had always been able to calm her down: Enzo.

~*~

Enzo had been sleeping soundly when the soft knock at his door woke him. He groaned, sitting up groggily, rubbing his eyes as he glanced over at Mattheo, who was still fast asleep in the bed next to him. The knock came again, gentle but persistent. With a sigh, Enzo got out of bed and padded to the door, wondering who would be knocking at this hour.

When he opened it, his expression quickly shifted from annoyance to concern. Esmie stood in the doorway, her eyes red and puffy from crying, her whole-body trembling as she clutched her arms to herself.

"Mie?" he whispered, immediately pulling her into his arms without a second thought. "What's wrong?"

"I-I had a nightmare," Esmie mumbled into his chest, her voice shaky and small. "I couldn't stop thinking about ... about that night during Christmas in fourth year."

Enzo's heart clenched at the mention of that night. He remembered it vividly — the night Esmie had shown up at his doorstep, terrified and bruised. He had done everything in his power to protect her, to comfort her, and he had made sure that the boys responsible would never bother her again, but the trauma of that night still clung to her, haunting her even now.

"You're safe now, Mie," Enzo whispered into her hair, his arms tightening around her as if shielding her from the memories. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

Esmie sniffled, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know ... but sometimes it just comes back, and I feel so ... so helpless."

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Enzo offered gently, his voice low and calming.

Esmie hesitated, biting her lip. "Are... are you sure? I don't want to be a burden."

"You could never be a burden," Enzo replied softly, taking her hand and leading her inside. "Come on."

Esmie climbed into the bed, feeling the familiar warmth of Enzo's presence beside her. He slipped under the covers, wrapping his arms around her once more, pulling her close as if to remind her that she wasn't alone. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear helped her begin to relax, and she nestled deeper into his chest, allowing herself to feel safe.

"Thank you, Sweets," she whispered, her voice soft and tired as exhaustion started to take over.

"You don't have to thank me," Enzo replied, his hand gently stroking her hair. "I'll always be here for you, Mie. Always."

As her breathing evened out and she began to drift off to sleep, Enzo felt his own heart swell with emotions he had kept hidden for far too long. It took every ounce of self-control not to kiss her in that moment, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't risk their friendship, and he wasn't sure she felt the same way.

But as he watched her sleep peacefully in his arms, her face soft and free from the worry and fear that usually plagued her, Enzo realised that pretending he didn't love her was becoming more difficult with each passing day. Every time he held her, every time she smiled at him, it chipped away at the wall he had built to protect his heart.

Sighing softly, Enzo pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a silent promise to always be there for her, even if she never knew the depth of his feelings. As he closed his eyes, holding her close, the outside world and all its worries faded away. For now, in this moment, it was just the two of them, safe in each other's arms.

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Enzo being in love with Esmie  💔😭

But Enzo being the one person who knows how to calm her down 👀

Enjoy! Xo

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