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EVERYONE AT HOGWARTS WAS BUZZING WITH EXCITEMENT ABOUT THE QUIDDITCH MATCH SCHEDULED FOR TODAY.

The chatter in the Great Hall had been non-stop since breakfast started, and it seemed like the only topic of conversation was Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Esmie, already feeling the familiar tingle of pre-game jitters, knew it was going to be a fierce battle. As soon as she'd found out it was a Gryffindor-Slytherin matchup, she'd mentally prepared herself for the extra layer of intensity. Both houses were eager to prove who was better, and a rivalry like theirs brought out the best—and worst—in everyone.

"Good luck today, Mie!" Enzo's voice rang out cheerfully from behind her as she made her way toward the Gryffindor table. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground for a second. Esmie burst into laughter, her nerves momentarily forgotten as she returned the hug.

"Thanks, Sweets! You too," Esmie smiled, her face lighting up as she caught Enzo's eye. His bright grin was contagious, as always, and for a moment she felt reassured that no matter how tense the game would get, her best friend had her back. As they parted ways, Esmie joined her friends at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

Taking a seat, Esmie glanced around the hall, noting how the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Everyone seemed either excited or nervous. As she absently buttered her toast, she noticed Harry sitting nearby, his brow furrowed as he stared down at his plate, pushing his food around with a fork. She smiled softly, leaning forward to get his attention.

"You look like you're a little nervous about the game today," Esmie commented, her voice gentle but teasing.

"I am," Harry admitted, his eyes flicking up to meet hers for a moment before dropping back to his plate.

Esmie tilted her head, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Oh, come on, what's the worst that could happen? Gryffindor loses? Sure, it would suck, but it's not the end of the world. Besides, I know we're going to play brilliantly today."

"I hope you're right," Harry muttered, though he still looked unsure. Esmie shrugged, taking a bite of her toast and hoping her words would prove to be true. As she chewed, she noticed Grace, Hope, and Hermione making their way over to the table, and she smiled as they sat down next to her.

"Do you reckon Enzo will try to hit you with a Bludger today?" Grace teased with a mischievous grin, leaning forward as if sharing a juicy secret. Esmie snorted, shaking her head in disbelief as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"Enzo? Hit me with a Bludger? Not a chance," Esmie replied, placing her goblet back on the table. Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where Enzo was laughing at something Theo had said, and she couldn't help but smile. Her heart warmed at the sight of her best friend so carefree, even though in just a few hours, they'd be facing off on the Quidditch pitch. She quickly noticed Grace and Hope nudging each other and exchanged a suspicious glance with them. "What are you two giggling about now?"

"Nothing," Grace replied a little too quickly, her smile guilty. Esmie's eyes narrowed as she looked between the twins, knowing there was something they weren't saying, but before she could press them further, Ron appeared at the table, sitting down beside her.

Esmie hadn't spoken much to Ron lately, not since the argument they had after Katie Bell's accident with the cursed necklace. Still, she smiled as she watched several Gryffindors call out good luck to him. Ron seemed more focused than usual, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the Slytherin table.

"So, how was it then?" Ron asked casually, turning to her.

"How was what?" Esmie blinked, caught off guard.

"Your dinner party with Slughorn?" Ron prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, that," Esmie shrugged, feeling her interest in the subject immediately fade. "Pretty boring, to be honest. Apart from chatting with Neville and Josie, nothing really happened."

Hermione, clearly eager to shift the conversation, added, "Slughorn's hosting a Christmas party soon, and we're meant to bring someone."

"I bet you'll be bringing McLaggen, since he's in the Slug Club, right?" Ron's tone was sharp, but Esmie couldn't help but smirk as she watched him. She glanced back over at the Slytherin table, her thoughts drifting once again to Enzo and Draco, wondering who she should invite to the Christmas party. She hated that she felt torn about it—it shouldn't have been such a dilemma.

"Actually, I was going to ask you," Hermione said, her words cutting through Esmie's thoughts. She turned her attention back to the conversation, just in time to see Ron's mood visibly brighten.

"Really?" Ron's smile was wide, but before anything more could be said, Lavender Brown approached their table, tapping Ron lightly on the shoulder.

"Good luck today, Ron. I know you'll be brilliant," Lavender said sweetly before walking off, leaving Ron looking slightly flustered.

"I'm quitting after today's match. McLaggen can have my spot if he wants it," Ron muttered.

"Suit yourself. Juice?" Harry offered, passing Ron a goblet. Esmie's eyes lingered on Harry, noticing the small vial he was trying to discreetly tuck away into his robes. She frowned, her concern growing as she realised what it was.

"Hello, everyone," Luna Lovegood suddenly appeared at the table, smiling dreamily as always. Esmie grinned as she took in Luna's lion costume, complete with a roaring mane. It was clear Luna had come to show her support for Gryffindor, and Esmie couldn't help but find it endearing.

Luna's gaze shifted toward Ron. "You don't look well, Ron. Is that why Harry put something in your drink? Was it a tonic?"

"Liquid luck," Hermione answered, her eyes narrowing at Harry.

"You didn't..." Maddison gasped, her eyes wide as she looked toward Harry.

"Don't drink it, Ron. You could get expelled," Hermione warned.

"She's right," Esmie chimed in, her voice serious as she watched Ron down his drink. She sighed, knowing there was no turning back now.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said with a smug smile, quickly tucking the vial away as Ron grinned, suddenly looking much more relaxed.

"Come on, Harry, Esmie, we've got a game to win!" Ron said, standing up with renewed enthusiasm.

"I'll catch up with you," Esmie called after them, watching as the boys headed off toward the pitch, with Maddison trailing behind. She turned back to Hermione and smiled, shaking her head slightly. "One day they'll listen to you, Hermione."

"I doubt it," Hermione sighed. "Are you coming with us?"

Esmie's gaze drifted back to the Slytherin table, where Enzo and Theo were still chatting. After a moment, she shook her head. "I'll meet you there."

"We're going to go wish Elsie luck before the match," Grace announced, standing up alongside Hope. With a quick wave, they left Esmie sitting alone for a moment, mentally preparing herself for the game ahead. This was it—the moment all the excitement and nerves had been building toward. And Esmie was ready.

"Good luck today, Es!" Hope called out as she and Grace waved, heading toward the doors of the Great Hall. Esmie waved back at them with a grin, though her heart was racing for reasons that had little to do with the Quidditch match. After watching her friends disappear through the doorway, she turned and walked toward the Slytherin table, where she spotted Theo sitting with his usual composed expression. With a small smile, Esmie slid onto the bench beside him, hoping to shake off her nerves.

Theo barely looked at her before standing abruptly. "I'm going to find Delilah and Blaise," he muttered, his tone distant. Without so much as a second glance, he strode away, leaving Esmie sitting there with a puzzled frown.

"What was that about?" Draco asked from across the table, raising an eyebrow as he watched Theo leave. His sharp gaze flicked to Esmie, as if expecting an explanation.

Esmie sighed, crossing her arms. "I don't know. He's been acting weird ever since he found out I got invited to Slughorn's dinner thing."

Draco exchanged a knowing glance with Enzo, who had been quietly observing. "Theo's always been competitive, but it sounds like there's something else going on," Draco remarked.

Enzo leaned back in his seat, eyeing Esmie with curiosity. "How was the dinner, anyway?"

"Boring," Esmie said with a shrug, trying to dismiss it. "It wasn't anything special. A few polite conversations, but I couldn't wait to leave."

Draco nodded slowly but didn't drop his watchful gaze. "Still, are you sure it's such a good idea to be sitting here? You know Snape's been on your case for weeks now. Sitting with us isn't going to help."

Esmie brushed it off, her voice flippant. "Snape doesn't scare me."

But Enzo's eyes remained on her, his brow furrowing slightly. He wasn't fooled by her bravado, especially after what had happened during detention a few weeks ago. He had been there when she'd had that panic attack, and the memory of her shaking hands and pale face hadn't left him. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the issue.

Danielle, who had been sitting quietly next to Draco, finally spoke up. "Esmie, maybe Draco's right. It might be better to steer clear of Snape's radar for now. There's no point adding more to your plate before the match." She glanced at Draco, sharing an unspoken understanding.

Esmie smiled at Danielle's concern but shook her head. "I'll be fine. It's just a game, and I don't care what Snape thinks."

"Mie, we should probably get to the Quidditch pitch and start getting ready," Enzo suggested, his voice calm but insistent. The game was getting closer, and the last thing he wanted was for Esmie to get distracted by all the stress building up around her.

Esmie stood up with a nod, pausing briefly before turning to Draco. "You coming to the game today?"

Draco shrugged, glancing down at the table. "I've got something I need to take care of," he said, his voice more distant than usual. After a beat, he looked up at her, his expression softening just slightly. "Good luck today, Esmeralda."

Esmie smiled at him, though the warmth of his words left her feeling oddly unsettled. "Thanks, Draco." With that, she and Enzo headed toward the doors of the Great Hall, the air between them thick with unspoken thoughts.

As they walked through the corridors in silence, Esmie could feel Enzo watching her out of the corner of his eye, but she wasn't sure she was ready to talk about everything weighing on her mind. Finally, it was Enzo who broke the quiet.

"I didn't know you and Draco talked that much," he commented casually, though Esmie could hear the curiosity in his tone.

She shrugged, trying to play it off. "Yeah, I guess we kind of do."

Enzo gave her a sidelong glance, clearly picking up on her evasiveness. "Kind of do, huh?" His voice was light, but Esmie could sense he wasn't entirely buying her casual response.

"Yeah," she muttered, pulling at the sleeves of her robes. She hated how awkward it felt, how that moment with Draco still lingered at the back of her mind. She hadn't even told Enzo about the kiss, and now it felt too complicated to bring up. Instead, she tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. "This stupid mark... it's been hurting all morning."

Enzo stopped walking and gently took hold of her wrist, his voice softening with concern. "Let me see it, darling."

Esmie hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of shame wash over her, but the tenderness in Enzo's voice was too much to resist, and she held out her arm. With care, Enzo pushed up her sleeve, revealing the red, irritated skin where the partial mark had been forming. His fingers brushed gently over the angry, raised lines, and he frowned.

"You've been scratching at it, haven't you?" His voice was soft but firm, his eyes locked on hers.

Esmie bit her lip, her heart pounding. "I... yeah. It's been hurting, and I guess I didn't realise I was making it worse."

Enzo let out a quiet sigh, his fingers lightly brushing over the mark again before pulling her sleeve back down. "Darling, you can't do that. You'll only make it worse."

"I know," Esmie mumbled, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. The truth was, the pain had been driving her crazy, and she hadn't known how to stop herself, but hearing Enzo's concern made her realise how careless she'd been.

Enzo cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing softly across her skin. "Please, promise me you won't scratch it anymore."

Esmie met his gaze, her heart tightening at the sincerity in his eyes. "I promise," she whispered.

"Good girl," Enzo said softly, pulling her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her securely, and for a moment, Esmie felt the world narrow down to just the two of them. Her cheeks flushed as she hugged him back, her fingers gripping the fabric of his robe as she closed her eyes, trying to suppress the confusing feelings stirring inside her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to keep it together. The warmth of Enzo's embrace was comforting, and yet there was something more—a tenderness she couldn't quite place, a feeling that made her heart ache in ways she didn't fully understand.

"We should, uh, get to the Quidditch pitch," Esmie said, her voice wavering slightly as she stepped back from Enzo's embrace. He nodded, letting his arms drop reluctantly as he gave her a soft smile. They walked side by side through the castle corridors, the silence between them comfortable but filled with the unspoken weight of the game ahead. Esmie could feel the familiar tension building inside her as they neared the pitch, her fingers nervously fidgeting with her broom handle.

As they reached the entrance to the Quidditch pitch, the air was thick with excitement. The roar of the crowd in the stands was already deafening, and the students were buzzing with anticipation. Esmie turned to Enzo, giving him a small smile. "See you after the game," she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

Enzo grinned, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "Good luck out there, darling," he said, before turning to join his fellow Slytherins. Esmie watched him go for a moment, feeling a strange tug in her chest before shaking it off. She needed to focus. It was game time.

She quickly joined her fellow Gryffindors, grabbing her broom and heading toward the pitch. Harry was nearby, his face set in determined concentration. When he caught her eye, he gave her a brief smile, which Esmie returned.

"Let's go, Gryffindor!" one of the younger team members shouted, their voice full of energy and excitement. The call was infectious, and soon, the entire Gryffindor team was cheering as they marched out onto the pitch, the roar of the crowd growing even louder. Esmie waved to Hermione in the stands, who gave her an encouraging nod, before mounting her broom and kicking off into the air.

The moment her feet left the ground, Esmie felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that came with flying. The wind whipped through her hair, and her heart raced as the game began. She quickly fell into the rhythm of the match, dodging Bludgers and passing the Quaffle to her teammates, the intensity of the game driving her forward.

As the Gryffindor team gained momentum, Esmie glanced across the pitch and spotted Enzo flying in perfect form, his eyes scanning the field for any sign of danger. Their eyes met for a brief second, and he flashed her a grin. She smiled back, feeling a surge of warmth despite the fierce rivalry between their teams.

The match quickly turned into a brutal fight for dominance. Both teams were playing with everything they had, and it showed. Slytherin's Chasers were relentless, but Ron was blocking their shots with an impressive level of focus and skill, something Esmie hadn't seen in him before. The crowd was going wild as Gryffindor continued to push forward, determined to take the win.

But then, out of nowhere, Esmie heard the ominous whistle of a Bludger heading straight for her. She barely had time to react before it slammed into her side with bone-rattling force, knocking her off her broom. The world spun violently around her as she plummeted toward the ground, the wind knocked out of her lungs.

She hit the ground with a hard thud, pain shooting through her body as her vision blurred. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Everything felt distant and muffled, the sounds of the game fading into the background.

"Esmie!" Enzo's voice cut through the fog, sharp with panic. She barely registered his presence until he was kneeling beside her, his hands gently but urgently lifting her to a sitting position. His face was pale with concern, his eyes wide as he pulled her into a tight hug, surprising her with the force of it.

"Are you alright?" His voice trembled slightly as he held her, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

Esmie groaned, still feeling the aftershocks of the impact, but she managed a laugh, trying to reassure him. "Sweets, I'm fine," she said, though her body ached all over. She hugged him back briefly before pulling away. "It's not the first time I've been hit by a Bludger and fallen from my broom."

Enzo frowned, his eyes scanning her for any signs of serious injury. "It looked like a pretty hard fall, Mie," he said, his voice full of concern.

"It wasn't that bad," Esmie insisted, though she winced as she moved her shoulder. Before they could say more, the sound of the final whistle echoed across the pitch, signaling the end of the game. The crowd erupted into cheers, the noise almost deafening.

Esmie grinned, glancing up at the scoreboard. "I guess this means Gryffindor won."

"I don't care who won as long as you're alright," Enzo said, his voice soft as he reached out and nudged her affectionately.

Esmie rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him back. "I promise I'm fine. I'm going to go get cleaned up." She stood up slowly, testing her weight on her feet. The pain in her side was still sharp, but manageable. She was used to the rough and tumble nature of Quidditch.

Enzo stood with her, watching her closely. "Alright, but take it easy, okay?" he said before pulling her into another quick hug. "Don't scare me like that again."

She smiled, patting his back lightly. "I'll try not to."

As Esmie walked off the field, she could hear the chants of "Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!" echoing from the stands. The Gryffindor supporters were celebrating Ron's impressive performance, and she couldn't help but smile. The adrenaline from the game was still buzzing in her veins, but she needed a moment to collect herself before joining the others.

Inside the tent, the team was buzzing with excitement. Harry quickly approached her, his face still full of concern. "Are you sure you're okay? That was a nasty hit," he asked, his eyes scanning her for any signs of pain.

"I'm fine, Harry," Esmie assured him, though she could already feel the bruise forming on her shoulder. She smiled, not wanting to make a fuss about it. Harry nodded, though he still seemed worried, and went over to congratulate Ron, who was basking in the attention of the crowd outside.

Just then, Grace and Hope entered the tent, both of them looking a bit uneasy. "We're looking for Elsie. She seemed really upset after the game," Grace said, her brows furrowed in concern.

"I'll come with you," Esmie said, eager to take her mind off the lingering ache in her side.

The three of them set off to find Elsie, and it didn't take long before they found her standing off to the side, her arms crossed and her face dark with frustration.

"The last time I watched Ron on the pitch, he was awful," Elsie said sharply, her voice low but full of anger. "Now he's suddenly brilliant. What did Harry do?"

Grace and Hope exchanged nervous glances, clearly unsure how to respond. Grace spoke up first, her voice careful. "Harry's been helping Ron with extra training. He's really been putting in the work."

Esmie could tell Elsie wasn't buying it. The anger in her eyes didn't soften, and it was clear she suspected something. Esmie knew they couldn't let anyone, especially Elsie, find out about the liquid luck Harry had kept in his pocket.

"Yeah, it's true," Hope added, her tone full of forced confidence. "They've been practicing late after every session."

"She's right," Esmie said, stepping forward to defuse the tension. "You played really well today, Els."

"Not well enough, apparently," Elsie snapped, her eyes narrowing before she stormed off.

Grace sighed deeply, watching her go. "I hate that we have to lie to her. It doesn't feel right."

"I know," Esmie said softly, feeling the same discomfort in her chest. "But we can't let Harry get expelled. We have to protect him, Gracie."

Grace nodded reluctantly. "You're right. We should probably head back and get ready. Gryffindor's going to throw a huge celebration after that win."

"I don't really feel like celebrating tonight," Hope admitted quietly, glancing down at her shoes.

Esmie wrapped an arm around her. "I don't either, but everyone will be expecting us. Besides, we should at least congratulate Ron on the win, even if we're not thrilled about how he got there."

After a moment, Hope and Grace nodded, and the three of them walked together back to the Gryffindor common room. When they arrived, the party was already in full swing. The room was filled with cheering students, and Ron stood at the centre of it all, basking in the attention.

Esmie couldn't help but roll her eyes as she made her way over to where Harry and Hermione stood. Hermione's arms were crossed, her face tight with disapproval.

"You really shouldn't have done it," Hermione said, her voice sharp as she glared at Harry.

"I suppose I could've just used a Confundus Charm," Harry muttered, glancing sideways at her.

"That was different—tryouts aren't the same as an actual game!" Hermione shot back, her frustration evident.

Esmie watched as Harry sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small vial of liquid luck. He held it up for her, Hermione, and the twins to see.

"You didn't use it," Esmie said, smiling slightly.

"Ron just thought I did," Harry said with a smirk, tucking the vial back into his robes.

Hope gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. "No way!"

But before they could say more, Esmie's attention was drawn to a sudden movement in the crowd. She looked over just in time to see Ron and Lavender locked in a kiss in the middle of the room. She turned to Hermione, her heart sinking as she watched Hermione's face fall. Without a word, Hermione turned and left the room.

"Hermione..." Esmie called after her, starting to follow, but Grace gently grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"Let Harry talk to her," Grace said softly, her voice full of understanding.

Esmie nodded, watching as Harry followed Hermione out of the common room. The celebration continued around them, but Esmie felt the weight of everything that had happened that day settle heavily on her shoulders. The victory, though sweet, didn't feel quite right. Not with all the secrets they were keeping.

"Okay, I need some air, so I'm going for a walk," Esmie said, her voice barely audible over the noise of the party. The Gryffindor common room was alive with celebration, laughter, and cheers, but she felt oddly disconnected from it all. Grace gave her an understanding nod, the same kind of look she'd been giving all night—one that said she knew Esmie needed space.

"Don't be too long," Grace said softly, her voice kind but laced with concern.

Esmie smiled, a small but grateful smile, and slipped out of the common room, the warmth and noise fading behind her as she made her way through the castle's quieter corridors. The walls were bathed in the soft glow of torchlight, the occasional flicker casting long shadows that danced along the stone. Her footsteps echoed in the stillness as she headed up the familiar spiral staircase that led to the Astronomy Tower. It had always been her place—somewhere she could escape when everything felt too much. And right now, with all the confusing emotions swirling inside her, it was the only place she wanted to be.

When she reached the top of the tower, the cold night air greeted her, sharp and crisp against her skin. She breathed it in deeply, letting the coolness fill her lungs as she walked over to the railing and sat down. The view stretched out before her, a vast expanse of snow-covered grounds and distant mountains, all bathed in silver moonlight. The stars above twinkled like tiny diamonds against the velvet sky, and a soft breeze tousled her hair, blowing it gently across her face.

For the first time that night, Esmie felt herself relax. She closed her eyes for a moment, just listening to the wind, letting the peace of the night wash over her.

"It's a nice view, isn't it?" a voice suddenly cut through the quiet, making her jump. Her eyes flew open, and she whipped around to see Draco walking toward her, his usual cool expression in place.

"Draco, you scared me," she said, placing a hand on her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart.

"Sorry," Draco said, though the smirk tugging at his lips suggested he wasn't entirely sorry.

Esmie rolled her eyes, the initial shock fading as she settled back into her spot by the railing. "It's fine. Did you want to sit?" she asked, gesturing to the empty space beside her.

Draco hesitated for a moment, then nodded and moved to sit down next to her, the silence between them stretching out as he settled in. The wind rustled through the tower, carrying with it the faint sounds of the party far below, but up here, it felt like they were in a different world, separate from everything else.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Esmie pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she stared out at the snowy landscape, her thoughts still a jumble of emotions she couldn't quite untangle. Draco sat beside her, leaning back against the stone, his gaze distant, as though he was lost in his own world.

Finally, Esmie broke the silence. "So, what exactly was it you were so busy doing today that you couldn't even watch the Quidditch match?" Her tone was light, but there was genuine curiosity behind the question. She hadn't expected him to come to the match, but the fact that he'd seemed so distant all day had piqued her interest.

Draco glanced at her, his expression carefully neutral. "I had some things to take care of," he replied coolly, offering no further explanation.

Esmie raised an eyebrow, not satisfied with the vague answer. "Things?" she pressed, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. There was always something enigmatic about Draco, a sense that he was constantly hiding something just beneath the surface.

Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharp as it met hers. "Do you ever mind your own business, Esmeralda?" he asked, his voice carrying a slight edge of annoyance.

Esmie recoiled at the sharpness of his words, a frown tugging at her lips as she looked away. The silence that followed felt heavier than before, thick with unspoken tension. She stared out at the falling snow, watching as the flakes drifted lazily through the air, their peaceful descent a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

"I could stay here forever," Esmie murmured after a while, more to herself than to Draco. The view, the cold air, the quiet—it was a welcome escape from the chaos that had become her life.

Draco's voice softened as he spoke again. "I like coming up here. It's peaceful." There was a quiet vulnerability in his tone, something she wasn't used to hearing from him. It caught her off guard.

"That's why I come up here too," Esmie said, turning to look at him again. There was something about being up here, away from everything, that made it easier to be honest. And despite the tension, despite the sharp words, there was still a strange sense of comfort in Draco's presence.

He met her gaze, his expression softening as he studied her for a moment, as if trying to figure out what she was thinking. Then, without warning, he leaned closer, his breath warm against the cold night air. Esmie's heart skipped a beat as she realised what was about to happen.

Draco closed the distance between them and kissed her.

For a moment, Esmie kissed him back, her mind racing. But even as their lips met, she felt ... nothing. No butterflies, no spark. Just an empty sense of confusion. She pulled away, her heart sinking as she realised the kiss hadn't changed anything. If anything, it had only deepened the sense of disconnect she'd been feeling all night.

Draco didn't seem to notice her hesitation. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, and she sighed softly, resting her head on his shoulder. The quiet of the night settled around them once again, and together, they watched the snow fall, the world below them lost in the stillness of winter.

For a brief moment, Esmie allowed herself to enjoy the peaceful serenity of the moment, the cold air biting at her cheeks, the warmth of Draco's body beside her, but deep down, she knew it wouldn't last. Something was shifting in her world, something she couldn't yet fully understand. And as the snow continued to fall, softly blanketing the ground, Esmie couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to change in ways she wasn't prepared for.

If only she had known just how quickly everything was going to fall apart.

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Enjoy! Xo

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