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⁺⤾·˚.⃗.  [ʜᴀʀᴠᴇsᴛ ɪɴ ʜᴏɢsᴍᴇᴀᴅᴇ] 𑁍ࠜೄ ･ﾟˊˎ
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The Courtyard
( October, 1993. )

                  𝓣he crisp October air buzzed with excitement as students gathered in the courtyard, bundled in scarves and cloaks, their laughter and chatter filling the space. The first Hogsmeade trip of the school term was always an event to anticipate. Leaves rustled underfoot, their vivid reds and oranges glowing in the autumn sun, adding a festive touch to the day. Even Filch, grumbling as usual, couldn't dampen the students' spirits.

Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the group, her gaze sharp as she addressed them. "Now remember, these visits to Hogsmeade Village are a privilege. Should your behavior reflect poorly on the school in any way, that privilege shall not be extended again."

The students nodded dutifully, though many were too eager to listen properly. Harry, however, wasn't as enthusiastic. He approached McGonagall hesitantly, glancing at the other students as Filch began to herd those with signed permission forms toward the gates.

"No permission form signed, no visiting the village. That's the rule, Potter," McGonagall said firmly when Harry approached.

"Professor," Harry tried again, "I thought if you signed it, then I could go."

McGonagall shook her head, her tone soft but unyielding. "I can't. Only a parent or guardian can sign. Since I am neither, it would be inappropriate. I'm sorry, Potter, but that's my final word."

Harry swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Forget about it, guys. See you later," he said, turning to Ron and Hermione with forced nonchalance.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried glance but didn't press him. As they hesitated near the gates, Esme approached Harry, her steps tentative yet purposeful. She offered him a small, understanding smile.

"I can stay here with you, Potter," she said softly, her voice barely audible above the noise of the departing group.

Harry looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he shook his head quickly. "No, I don't want you to miss out," he said firmly.

"It's alri—"

"I said it's fine," Harry interrupted, his voice sharp, though it was clear he didn't intend to be. His words hung awkwardly between them for a moment before he turned and walked off, leaving Esme standing there, her frown deepening as she watched him retreat.

Ron and Hermione, who had lingered nearby, caught the exchange. Esme hesitated for a moment longer before falling in with the rest of the group headed to Hogsmeade.

As they walked down the path toward the village, Hermione turned to Ron, her brow furrowed. "You know, maybe we should spend the day with Esme."

Ron looked at her incredulously. "What? Why? I thought we were going to Honeydukes first."

"Ron," Hermione said pointedly, "she looked upset. And honestly, it's the kind thing to do."

Ron groaned but didn't argue further. "Fine. But if this cuts into my Chocolate Frog time, you owe me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. Come on."

Ron sighed but followed Hermione as they made their way toward Esme, who walked a few paces ahead, looking distant and lost in thought.

As the group of students trudged toward Hogsmeade, the excitement of the others only seemed to emphasize Esme's subdued demeanor. The golden light of the autumn sun filtered through the trees lining the path, and the cool breeze carried the faint scent of the village ahead—honey, baked goods, and something faintly smoky. Esme, however, seemed oblivious to it all, her mind far from the cheerful chatter surrounding her.

Hermione and Ron quickened their pace to catch up to her. Hermione's smile was kind but hesitant as she matched Esme's stride.

"Esme," Hermione began gently, "mind if we join you?"

Esme blinked, startled out of her thoughts. She glanced at Hermione, then at Ron, who was trailing slightly behind with an awkward expression, and gave a small shrug. "I don't mind," she said quietly, though her voice lacked its usual warmth.

Hermione shot Ron a look that clearly said, Be nice. He sighed and stepped closer, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So," he said, clearly grasping for conversation, "uh, you excited about Hogsmeade? First trip of the term and all."

Esme hesitated before responding. "I suppose," she said, her tone polite but distant. "I don't go very often. It's usually so crowded."

"Oh, it's brilliant, though," Ron said, his enthusiasm creeping into his voice despite himself. "Honeydukes has got the best sweets, and the Three Broomsticks—well, you've been there, right? Best butterbeer in the world."

Esme gave him a faint smile but didn't reply, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Hermione, ever perceptive, leaned in slightly. "Are you alright, Esme? You seem upset."

Esme glanced at her, her guarded expression softening just a fraction. "I'm fine," she said, though the words didn't quite ring true. She hesitated, then added, "Harry just... he seemed upset. I was trying to help."

Ron snorted. "Harry's always upset about something. Don't take it personally. He's probably sulking about not being able to come with us."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, glaring at him.

"What?" Ron said defensively. "It's true!"

Esme's brow furrowed as she looked down at her hands. "He seemed... angry."

"He's not angry with you," Hermione said quickly. "Harry can just be a bit, well, intense sometimes. He doesn't mean it. He's probably just frustrated."

Ron nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. If anything, he'll probably thank you for offering to stay behind. Even if he's too stubborn to admit it now."

Esme's smile was faint but genuine.

The three of them walked on in a comfortable silence for a moment before Hermione pointed toward the village ahead. The rooftops of Hogsmeade came into view, their chimneys puffing out trails of smoke. The sound of bustling chatter and laughter grew louder as they approached.

"Come on," Hermione said with a small grin, nudging Esme lightly. "Let's make the most of it. I'll even buy you a butterbeer."

Esme's smile widened slightly, and she nodded. "Alright."

Ron groaned dramatically. "Wait, what about me? Don't I get a butterbeer?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not if you keep whining, you don't."

Esme let out a soft laugh, and for the first time that day, she felt the tension in her chest begin to ease as they entered the lively streets of Hogsmeade together.

As the trio wandered further into the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, the crisp autumn air carried the hum of excited students exploring the shops and vendors. Hermione eagerly led the way, pointing out the seasonal decorations—a cascade of pumpkins outside Honeydukes, garlands of orange and gold strung across the rooftops. Esme walked quietly beside her, a small, tentative smile on her lips, while Ron trailed behind, already eyeing Honeydukes like a hawk spotting prey.

Meanwhile, across the cobblestone street, a group of Slytherins lounged near the entrance of The Three Broomsticks. Draco Malfoy leaned casually against the doorframe, flanked by Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. The group was laughing about something when Blaise's gaze shifted toward the crowd, his sharp eyes catching sight of an unmistakable figure.

"Oi, Draco," Blaise said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Isn't that Esme?"

Draco followed his friend's line of sight, his expression instantly souring when he spotted Esme walking between Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. He straightened up, his arms folding over his chest as his pale eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"What the bloody hell is she doing with them?" Draco spat, his tone equal parts annoyed and confused.

Pansy turned her head, her brows furrowing. "Esme? With Gryffindors?" she said, her voice incredulous. "That doesn't make any sense."

Blaise smirked. "Looks like she's having a lovely time with the Weasel and Granger."

Draco scowled, his jaw tightening. "I'm sure it's not what it looks like," he said sharply, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Looks like she's ditched us for the dream team," Theo added with a chuckle, clearly enjoying Draco's irritation.

"Shut it, Nott," Draco snapped. His eyes remained fixed on Esme, who was now laughing softly at something Hermione had said. "She wouldn't. Esme knows better."

"Does she?" Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow. "She looks awfully cozy with them."

Draco ignored her, his annoyance simmering. He couldn't understand why Esme would willingly spend time with Gryffindors—especially those two. Was this about her random infatuation with Potter?

"She's probably just being polite," Draco muttered, though the words sounded hollow, even to him.

"Polite?" Millicent Bulstrode echoed, smirking. "If that's polite, she's practically rolling out the red carpet for them."

Draco's scowl deepened, and he turned abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Whatever," he said coolly, though his voice was tight. "Let her do what she wants. I don't care."

But as he walked back into The Three Broomsticks, the image of Esme with the Gryffindors lingered in his mind, stirring an unsettling mix of irritation and unease.

Outside, oblivious to the Slytherins' watchful eyes, Esme followed Hermione and Ron toward Honeydukes, her nerves gradually giving way to the warmth of their company. For once, she felt like she belonged, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Inside Honeydukes, the warm, sugary air wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. The shop was alive with the chatter of students and the cheerful jingling of bells on the door. Shelves were stacked high with colorful confections: jars of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, rows of gleaming Chocolate Frogs, and shimmering Sugar Quills.

Ron's face lit up as he grabbed a handful of items, practically bouncing between displays. "Look at this!" he exclaimed, holding up a pack of Acid Pops. "I've been dreaming about these all summer."

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. "Honestly, Ron, it's like you've never seen sweets before."

Esme trailed behind them, taking in the vibrant chaos of the shop. She hesitated near a display of Fizzing Whizbees, her fingers grazing the edge of the box. She wasn't used to this—to being included, to feeling... welcome.

"You like those?" Hermione asked, noticing Esme's lingering glance.

Esme looked up, startled. "Oh, um, I don't know. I've never tried them."

Ron stopped in his tracks, looking at her as if she'd just confessed to never breathing air. "Never tried Fizzing Whizbees? You're kidding."

She shook her head, her cheeks flushing slightly. "No, I—"

"Well, we're fixing that now," Ron declared, grabbing a box and tossing it into the growing pile of sweets in his arms. "You're in for a treat."

Esme's lips curved into a small smile, a flicker of gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Ron."

Ron shrugged, waving her off. "It's no big deal."

The trio made their way to the counter, where Ron eagerly handed over his mountain of treats. As the shopkeeper tallied up their purchases, Hermione glanced at Esme.

"You know," Hermione said softly, "I'm glad you came with us."

Esme blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in Hermione's voice. "You are?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course. It's... nice. Getting to know you, I mean."

Esme looked down, her fingers twisting together. She wasn't used to kindness like this, especially from Gryffindors. "Thank you," she murmured.

As they left the counter, their bags of sweets swinging in their hands, Ron was already digging into a bag of Fizzing Whizbees. He popped one into his mouth and offered the bag to Esme, who hesitated before reaching for one. She examined the small candy in her hand like it was a puzzle to be solved.

"You just eat it," Ron said through a mouthful of sweets, grinning.

Hermione gave him a disapproving look. "Manners, Ronald."

Esme gave a soft chuckle at their bickering before finally placing the Fizzing Whizbee on her tongue. Her eyes widened in surprise as a fizzy, tingling sensation spread through her mouth.

"It's... it's buzzing!" she exclaimed, her voice higher than usual, a mix of astonishment and delight.

Ron laughed. "That's the whole point! It's brilliant, isn't it?"

Esme nodded, her lips curling into a genuine smile. "It's strange, but... I like it."

Hermione watched the interaction with a small smile, her gaze softening as she noticed how relaxed Esme seemed. It was a stark contrast to the reserved and often anxious girl she'd seen in class.

"Do you have a favorite sweet, Esme?" Hermione asked, curious.

Esme paused, the question catching her off guard. She shifted the bag in her hands, her fingers fiddling with the edges. "I... I don't think I do. I've never really—" She hesitated, unsure if she should share. "I didn't grow up with things like this."

Ron frowned, his mouth still full of candy. "You mean sweets? You didn't have sweets growing up?"

"Not like this," Esme said quietly, looking at the floor. "It wasn't something we... focused on."

Hermione exchanged a quick glance with Ron, who looked both confused and a little guilty for bringing it up. Hermione stepped in gently. "Well, there's no time like the present. We'll just have to help you find a favorite today."

Esme blinked, her fingers pausing their fidgeting. "You don't have to—"

"But we want to," Hermione said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, you've got to try the lot. Maybe you're a Jelly Slugs kind of person. Or Cauldron Cakes! Oh, and you have to try the Pepper Imps—they make you breathe fire for a bit!"

Esme looked between the two of them, overwhelmed but... warmed. It wasn't often that people went out of their way for her like this. She managed a small nod. "Okay."

"Good," Hermione said, pleased. She gestured toward the door. "Shall we head to The Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer? It'll give us time to try everything we bought."

Ron practically cheered. "Best idea you've had all day, Hermione."

Esme followed them out of Honeydukes, clutching her bag of sweets tightly. The cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade bustled with students, the crisp October air filled with laughter and the rich scent of roasted nuts from a nearby cart.

As they made their way toward The Three Broomsticks, Esme caught herself feeling something she wasn't used to: belonging. It was strange and unfamiliar, but she found she didn't mind it.

Inside the cozy warmth of the pub, the trio found a corner table, where Ron immediately began sorting through his spoils. "Right, Esme," he said, dumping his haul onto the table. "Pick your next adventure."

Esme hesitated, her fingers hovering over the colorful wrappers. "Maybe... this one?" She held up a pack of Jelly Slugs.

"Excellent choice," Ron declared.

Hermione smiled softly, watching as Esme carefully opened the pack and took her first bite.

As Esme settled into her chair, her fingers still curling around the soft mug of butterbeer, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The warmth of the pub and the comfort of her friends didn't seem to settle her as much as it should have. Her gaze drifted to the other side of the room, where a table full of Slytherins was sitting. Her stomach twisted as she noticed them—Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and the others—all staring directly at her.

It wasn't just a casual glance; they were watching her intently, their faces unreadable, but their eyes sharp. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her grip tightening on her butterbeer mug as her pulse quickened. She could feel their stares as though they were pressing into her skin, making her feel exposed and small.

Hermione, noticing the sudden change in Esme's demeanor, glanced over at the Slytherin table and immediately followed Esme's gaze. Ron, who was busy munching on a chocolate frog, turned to see what they were both looking at.

"What's wrong, Esme?" Hermione asked quietly, her voice laced with concern.

Esme glanced back at them, trying to force a smile. "It's nothing," she said quickly, but her voice didn't sound convincing. She set the mug down with a soft clink, trying to pretend the uncomfortable feeling wasn't gnawing at her.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like nothing. You're all stiff." He glanced at the Slytherin table, and his face hardened for a moment as he took in the scene. "What are they looking at?"

Esme didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want to admit the truth, but the tension was too much to ignore. She sighed and met Hermione's gaze. "It's just... they don't like it. They don't like that I'm here with you two."

Hermione frowned. "That's ridiculous."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, like they're going to tell you who you can hang out with. Don't let them get to you, Esme. If they've got a problem, they can take it up with me."

Esme's gaze flickered back to the table of Slytherins, where Draco was still watching her, his eyes narrowed. She swallowed hard, the weight of their disapproval feeling heavier now. It wasn't the first time she'd felt out of place among her own house, but it was the first time she felt it so sharply.

Hermione reached over and gently placed a hand on Esme's. "It doesn't matter what they think. You're here with us, and that's all that counts."

Esme gave a small, uncertain smile. "I know... It's just hard sometimes."

Ron clapped her on the back, a bit too hard. "Don't worry about them. They're all talk. Now, try a Cauldron Cake! You'll feel better after a few bites."

Esme chuckled despite herself, her mood lifting slightly at their words. She still couldn't shake the discomfort, but she appreciated how easily Hermione and Ron had shifted the focus away from the Slytherin table and back to their little bubble of friendship. It was a reminder, albeit small, that not everything had to be about them.

"I think I'll take you up on that, Ron," she said, reaching for the cake. As she did, her gaze flickered briefly back to Draco's table. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but she could still feel the weight of his stare.

Still, with Ron and Hermione here, she felt a little more like she belonged in this moment. The sting of her housemates' judgment didn't hurt as much anymore.

Esme excused herself from the table with a polite smile, feeling a little lighter than she had moments before. The discomfort that had bubbled up when she noticed the Slytherins had faded, and she felt grateful for the brief break from their judgment. She quickly made her way to the loo, giving herself a moment of privacy to collect her thoughts and push away any lingering unease.

Back at the table, Hermione leaned in slightly towards Ron, her voice dropping into a quieter tone. "So, what do you think of Esme? I mean, really think?"

Ron, who had been busy picking at his remaining sweets, paused for a moment before shrugging. "She's different. A bit quiet, but not in a bad way. I dunno, I kind of like her. She doesn't have that...Pureblood arsehole edge to her like some others. She's easy to be around."

Hermione nodded, clearly pleased with his answer, though there was something on her mind she couldn't quite shake. "I wish Harry was here."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, he's been dying to get to know her personally for years. And now he's missing out, and we're getting to know her better while he's bored at the castle."

Ron chuckled, shaking his head. "He's just too bloody awkward." Ron pointed out, "But, obviously, it's because they're both mad about each other."

Hermione blinked, then broke into a wide grin. "I was thinking the exact same thing!" She looked over at Ron, her grin turning into something a bit more knowing. "It's so obvious."

Ron shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Well, someone's got to put them together, don't they?"

Before Hermione could respond, Esme returned, looking a little more at ease as she took her seat. She smiled politely, but there was a hint of warmth to her expression now.

"I have a splendid idea," Hermione said suddenly, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Esme blinked, her brows furrowing in curiosity. "What is it?"

Ron looked intrigued as well. "Yeah, what is it?"

Hermione leaned forward, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Let's go back early and spend some time with Harry!"

Ron gave an enthusiastic nod. "Alright! Let's do it."

Esme hesitated for a moment, then smiled gently. "Perhaps we should first stop and get him his favorite treats?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick, knowing look before both of them broke into smiles. Ron's smile softened as he looked at Esme with a newfound appreciation, while Hermione's smile was filled with warmth and something more. It was obvious to both of them now that Esme's cared for Harry, even if she herself hadn't realized it yet.

Hermione placed a hand on Esme's arm, her voice kind and encouraging. "Lovely idea, Esme! Let's go."

Esme's heart warmed at their support. It was small, but it made her feel like she truly belonged here, a part of this little group. She nodded in agreement, and together, the trio stood up, ready to leave the bustling warmth of the pub behind them and head out into the cool October air, their sights set on finding Harry's favorite treats, and returning to Hogwarts early to share a bit of the warmth they had found with him.