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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ESMIE'S HEART RACED IN HER CHEST, POUNDING WITH A MIX OF ANXIETY AND FEAR AS SHE STOOD OUTSIDE SNAPE'S OFFICE, THE DIMLY LIT CORRIDOR CASTING SHADOWS THAT SEEMED TO LOOM OVER HER.
She had spent the entire night tossing and turning, rehearsing this confrontation, convincing herself that today was the day she would finally face him. But now, standing before the heavy wooden door, her hand frozen in midair, she wasn't sure if she could do it.
What would she say? How could she even begin to confront the man who had been such an intimidating figure in her life, a professor who seemed to exist in a constant state of stern disapproval, only to now discover that he was her father? It was too much. Her hand trembled as it hovered inches from the door, and she felt her throat tighten with nerves.
Just as she finally gathered the courage to knock, the door creaked open. Esmie's heart nearly stopped as Professor Snape appeared before her, his black robes billowing slightly as he stepped into view. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto hers immediately.
"Miss Grisky," Snape said in his usual drawl, his voice like ice. "Why are you lurking outside my office? Have you nothing better to do?"
"I... I was coming to see you, Professor," Esmie stammered, her voice barely a whisper. She swallowed hard, her courage fading fast under his intense, piercing gaze. "I..."
"Well, spit it out," he said sharply, his impatience cutting through the air like a knife.
Esmie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. She could feel her hands shaking as the flood of emotions that had been brewing inside her threatened to spill over. The confrontation she had imagined—the defiance, the righteous anger—vanished in the wake of her fear and uncertainty.
"I... I can't," she whispered finally, her voice cracking as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and fled down the hallway, her footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridor. She didn't dare look back.
Her vision blurred with tears, Esmie kept running until she was sure she was far enough away from Snape's office. Once she felt safe, she stopped, leaning against the cool stone wall, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, willing the tears away. She wasn't going to cry. Not now.
