For as long as she could remember, Esmeralda Grisky and Lorenzo Berkshire had been inseparable best friends. But in their sixth year at Hogwarts, something shifted between them, drawing them closer than ever. Esmeralda begins to realize that her fee...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❤❤️
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
IT HAD BEEN A FEW WEEKS SINCE THEY'D RETURNED TO HOGWARTS, AND THOSE WEEKS HAD PASSED IN RELATIVE PEACE.
The group spent most of their time attending classes, sharing meals in the Great Hall, and retreating to their dormitories for quiet evenings. Laughter and light conversations filled their free moments, a welcome change from the chaos they had faced in previous years. Esmie and Enzo, in particular, were practically inseparable—always finding time for each other between classes or during the evenings. Esmie had taken to sleeping in his bed, her presence beside him a comfort he'd grown used to. That's why it felt odd when he woke up that morning to find her missing from his side, curled up in her own bed instead.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Enzo sat up, his gaze drifting over to Esmie's still form. Her blanket was bunched up around her, and she was lying on her side, unmoving. Concern crept into his chest. He was about to quietly slip out of bed to check on her when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Don't wake her. She just fell asleep," came the low, familiar voice of Mattheo from across the room.
Enzo paused, turning his head toward Mattheo, who was leaning against his bedpost, arms crossed.
"Was she up late studying again?" Enzo asked, half-expecting a yes. Esmie had a habit of staying up too late, pouring over textbooks and class notes well past midnight.
Mattheo shook his head, his expression more serious than usual. "No, she's been sick most of the night—throwing up." He hesitated, his eyes meeting Enzo's. "And before you ask, I tried waking you up three times. You were out cold."
Enzo felt a pang of guilt at that. He hadn't even noticed. "What? Is she okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he moved toward Esmie's bed, sitting gently on the edge beside her.
"She's burning up," Enzo muttered under his breath, pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. The heat radiating from her skin was alarming, and his heart twisted in worry.
"I know," Mattheo said, his voice quieter now. "She threw up all over herself earlier—couldn't even stand up to get to the bathroom. I had to help her into the shower. She was too weak to manage it on her own."
