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...
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LORENZO PUT HIS HAND TO THE GRAVESTONE.
Snow fell gently around him, its silent descent mirroring the quiet weight in his chest. The cold didn't register as he stared at the carved letters, the name of a man who had been more a shadow in his life than a presence. His breath fogged in the still air, and he let out a long, soft sigh, feeling the tension in his shoulders loosen just slightly. He hadn't come here for answers or closure—he wasn't sure there could ever be any when it came to his father, but standing there, in the middle of the quiet graveyard, brought a sense of finality, as if this chapter of his life was now closed.
The silence was oppressive, thick and heavy, broken only by the soft crunch of snow under his boots as he turned to leave. He didn't look back. There was nothing more to say. As he walked through the desolate graveyard, his footsteps echoed faintly, lost in the icy stillness. It wasn't until a familiar voice called out to him that the weight began to lift.
"Sweets, we should really get Finny home before he freezes," Esmeralda Grisky's voice rang out, gentle and familiar, pulling him from his thoughts like a beacon in the night. He turned, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She stood there, holding their son close to her chest, her long coat wrapped around both her and the baby. Snow dusted her blonde hair, making her look ethereal in the cold winter light.
For a brief moment, Lorenzo couldn't help but freeze, the sight of her standing there still surreal, as if she were some fragile, beautiful illusion. He had come so close to losing her—too close. His heart clenched at the memory of that dreadful night in the hospital. The doctors rushing, the beeping machines, her pale face, still and lifeless as the monitors screamed in alarm. Esmie had flatlined on the operating table, and for three agonising days, she lay in a coma. He had felt his world shatter, the fear that she might never wake up swallowing him whole, but she had come back to him. She had defied death.
A smile tugged at his lips, one filled with both relief and love, as he walked towards her. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face briefly in her hair, the warmth of her presence chasing away the cold that had settled in his bones. His lips brushed the side of her head, and he looked down at their son, who was nestled warmly against her, Finley's tiny nose red from the chill, his eyes wide as he took in the falling snow.
