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 HAD BEEN COMPLETELY DISTRACTED FOR WEEKS.
No matter how hard she tried to focus, her thoughts seemed to drift elsewhere, and she couldn't quite put her finger on why.
"I still can't believe Harry and Ron are doing better in Defence Against the Dark Arts than Esmie," Grace commented one morning as their group shuffled into the classroom. The usual chatter of students filled the air, but Grace's remark seemed to cut through it, making Esmie frown as she glanced over her shoulder.
"I've been a bit... preoccupied," Esmie muttered, though her tone lacked conviction.
"She's just distracted. It's no big deal," Hope added as they made their way to their usual seats. Esmie rolled her eyes, sinking into her chair as if hoping to avoid the conversation entirely. Hermione slipped into the seat beside her, offering a supportive smile, as if sensing the unease bubbling under the surface.
"Preoccupied doesn't mean failing," Grace replied, shaking her head. "You're way too good at this subject for Harry and Ron to be showing you up."
Esmie shrugged, not bothering to respond, though she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. She glanced behind her, catching sight of Enzo and Mattheo taking their seats. The sight of them should have been a comfort—Enzo especially—but even that didn't quite ease the knot in her stomach. Behind them, Dani and Theo settled in, a pairing that still surprised Esmie every time she saw it. The history between them wasn't exactly smooth, and yet there they were, sitting together like it didn't matter.
As he sat down, Enzo reached over and nudged Esmie's arm. She managed a small smile, grateful for the gesture, but even that felt half-hearted. She turned her attention back to the front just as Professor Snape strode into the room, his dark robes billowing out behind him like some ominous shadow. The lesson began quickly, but despite Esmie's best efforts, her gaze soon wandered toward the back of the room, where Pansy and Draco were whispering to one another. Pansy let out a soft giggle, and Esmie felt a pang of irritation flare in her chest. She sighed, tapping her quill absently against her book, trying—and failing—to recenter her focus on the lesson.
