Esther grabbed a slice of something—some kind of cake she hadn't even identified—and dashed after her roommates toward class.
Her mind held only one thought: the Potions classroom was underground. So she kept urging her roommates to hurry downstairs.
What she forgot, however, was that Hogwarts' magical staircases enjoyed rotating whenever they pleased. So when Esther hesitated for a single beat at a turning, she ended up separated from her roommates. She stared at the castle's ancient stone walls, anxiety rising in her chest, and couldn't help complaining, "If they know the castle is this big, couldn't they at least put up some signs?"
She was genuinely worried she'd be late.
Sure, Professor Snape might be terrifying, but he wasn't going to toss a student into a cauldron and boil them… probably. Still, getting your name remembered by a professor on the very first day was absolutely not ideal.
All she wanted was to be background scenery—quietly drifting through the plot without getting entangled with any major characters.
Main characters had their world; background characters had theirs. Everyone around her was some minor side character with limited screen time, and she was perfectly willing to be one of them.
But anxiety plus a terrible sense of direction led to disaster. After making several wrong turns, Esther realized she was completely, utterly lost.
She hadn't even had time to eat her cake, still clutching it awkwardly. She stood frozen, not knowing what to do.
This was the moment when a normal person would ask someone for directions… except, bizarrely, not a single soul was around.
It was morning, yes, but wandering alone in an ancient castle filled with shadows was still unsettling.
And honestly, this world had magic—nothing about it was scientific. The school had actual ghosts floating around. That alone was enough to spook her.
Wait!
Esther suddenly had an idea.
Hogwarts didn't only have ghosts—there were also plenty of moving portraits! She could ask them for directions!
Feeling hopeful again, she spun around. Unfortunately, this particular hallway had no portraits. But she remembered passing a corridor earlier that had several.
She turned back the way she'd come and ran.
But because she was running too fast, she collided with someone the moment she rounded a corner.
"Ow!"
She'd been sprinting, so the impact was strong. She fell straight to the floor.
The person she crashed into seemed taller than her. She hadn't seen his face—the corner blocked her view—so she instinctively raised her hands to shield herself.
Not that it stopped the pain.
She clutched her hand, eyes stinging.
"Oh! Merlin! Draco, are you okay?!"
A sharp female voice screeched nearby.
"Oh no, the cake's all over his face!"
A panicked boy added.
The moment she heard the familiar name, dread washed over Esther.
No way. She must have heard wrong.
Who… who had she run into?
Trying to delay the awful truth, she kept both hands clamped over her face, refusing to look up.
"Bloody hell! Where did this idiot come from?!"
A furious male voice snapped.
Esther had heard Draco's voice in the Quidditch shop, so she recognized it instantly—this was the infamous Malfoy himself.
That only made everything worse.
She forced herself upright, still covering her face. Maybe—just maybe—he hadn't seen her clearly yet. Maybe she could just run.
But she didn't want to be that kind of person—someone who crashes into someone and runs without even apologizing.
Except if she faced Draco Malfoy right now, she could already imagine her tragic future.
Hogwarts' most notorious troublemaker would absolutely spend the rest of the school year hunting her down just for the fun of it.
Of course, if this were a romance novel, this might be the start of their love story—enemies-to-lovers, lovers-by-accident, that sort of thing.
Unfortunately, Esther was firmly committed to staying out of trouble. She did not want romance. She did not want bullying. She wanted none of it.
But the plot did not care what she wanted. As soon as she got to her feet, someone yanked her hands away from her face, hard.
"You stupid, worthless Hufflepuff! Has crawling around in the dirt rotted your eyes?"
Forced to look up, Esther found herself staring at a furious, red-faced boy. Feeling guilty and overwhelmed, she blurted, "I'm sorry."
His pale forehead had reddened from the impact, streaked with bits of smeared cream. His collar had stains he hadn't wiped clean. A few strands of his neatly slicked-back platinum hair had fallen loose over his forehead.
Honestly, Esther thought it looked nicer this way.
"Is 'sorry' supposed to fix anything?" he barked.
"Exactly! Where did this reckless idiot even come from? Draco, you should teach her a lesson so she understands Slytherin doesn't bow to a bunch of lazy, food-obsessed badgers."
A girl in Slytherin robes sneered, giving Esther a contemptuous once-over, her gaze lingering on her face before she made the suggestion.
Esther finally noticed the whole group. The girl—who wasn't particularly attractive, with brown hair and eyes—wore a smug, superior expression.
Next to her stood two enormous boys, one on each side of Draco, both looking blank, like decorative pillars.
Behind them stood a tall, dark-skinned boy watching quietly.
They were all Slytherins, obviously. And Esther had no trouble figuring out who they were.
Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and Blaise Zabini.
Hogwarts' classic bullying squad.
Esther knew this wasn't going to end peacefully. But even more worrying than them was the fact she was going to be late for Potions.
So she decided to swallow her pride and pleaded, "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to crash into you. I'm about to be late for class—if you want compensation or punishment, can we do it another time?"
Draco kept a painful grip on her hand, eyes narrowing. "You were planning to run, weren't you? Cover your face so I wouldn't know who you were, so I couldn't track you down later?"
His grip tightened. Esther winced.
But the moment she heard his accusation, the pain disappeared under pure panic. She shook her head frantically. "No! I'm not that kind of person! It just hurt a lot and I got confused, that's all!"
Oh no. He saw through her.
Terrified, she sniffled and denied everything as fast as she could.
"Is that so?" Draco still looked unconvinced.
Pansy quickly pushed again: "Why waste time talking, Draco? Have Goyle and Crabbe teach her a lesson. She needs to understand who she should never cross."
The two large boys obediently stepped forward, cracking their knuckles.
Clearly, the concept of "never hit girls" did not exist in their vocabulary.
Then again, they probably didn't recognize many words in general.
For some reason—maybe because her fate was already sealed—Esther suddenly wasn't as scared.
Adopting a burst-into-tears, helpless expression, she looked up at Draco and said, "Please… my name is Esther. I'm a first-year Hufflepuff. Ernie Macmillan in the second year is my brother. If you really want to punish me, can you at least let me attend class first?"
***
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