Needless to say, 1979 had gotten off to a rocky start.

Esme had had a lot of time on the train journey back to Hogwarts to think over everything that had happened. She spent much of that time analysing everything Regulus had said and done in the months leading up to that day, hoping to find some hints that were now obvious in retrospect - or perhaps she'd been to oblivious to notice in the first place.

But, as the train rolled into Hogsmeade station, she was feeling a lot calmer already and a lot less likely to bite someone's head off to breathing too closely to her.

This fragile, tentative calmness was quickly shattered by the bombardment of questions Esme was put under by Dirk and Levi, who were confused, concerned, and worried. Of course, they'd no idea of the argument that had taken place earlier in the day, and had to idea how to broach the topic of Regulus' absence appropriately.

So they got it wrong.

Esme had, of course, wasted no time in sharply snapping at the two boys. That, combined with her short, unhelpful responses to questions, quickly hammered home the idea that perhaps it was best and safer to just accept Regulus wasn't there, whatever the reason for that was.

"It's dreadful when you realise how much power someone has over you. No person should be able to change you mood so easily with an action they haven't given a second thought to."

Esme muttered, partly to herself and partly to Egeria who sat beside her.

They were high up in the empty quidditch stands, for there was no match today and not even a training session.

Part of Esme supposed she was there to feel comfortable in the memories held there - those of fun. The other part of Esme knew she was there to be alone because everyone else was so shockingly annoying at times.

"I've really gone back to my old self, haven't I?" She asked aloud, knowing it to be true.

In her early years at Hogwarts, whenever Esme had been in a foul mood or had been pushed right to the edge of her patience (which wasn't hard to do) she would go anywhere just to be alone with her own thoughts to calm down and relax.

But growing closer to Regulus, she hadn't needed to do that anymore. He could snap her out of a mood with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. He could stop her arguing by merely calling out her name.

Whilst she did love Regulus, and was forever grateful for everything he'd done for her, Esme didn't completely like that he had such a power over her.

Then again, they both had this control over the other so perhaps it worked out equally.

"I suppose that is the point in couples." Esme nodded once and then cast a glance down to the small black cat beside her. "You are quite small, aren't you?" She asked Egeria, and then shrugged it off and resumed looking down at the quidditch pitch.

Esme did hate moving around, and it wasn't like she could go and find Regulus to apologise for blowing up in his face. She never did know when to shut up, and had been completely blindsided when he had confessed to her that he wasn't returning to Hogwarts.

"Time for lunch, don't you think?" Esme asked aloud again. It didn't really make any difference, because Egeria would do what she wanted regardless of what Esme said.

That's cats for you.

So Esme tugged her scarf around her neck again, tightened her robes around her body, and set off up the hill and back towards the castle.

The previous week, Esme had written a letter to Piper. It had, in its own way, been rather therapeutic to look at everything scrawled down on a piece of parchment.

Tucked away in Esme's pocket, as she made her way towards the Great Hall, was the return letter from Piper. She'd cast a glance at the first bit of it, which consisted mostly of Piper complaining about how difficult it was to read Esme's handwriting - something Regulus too often pointed out.

It wasn't like Piper was there in person for Esme to retort: 'That sounds like a you problem.'

Once Esme had found herself a seat in the Great Hall, with adequate space around it so as not to be bothered by other people, she wasted no time in tucking into some warm soup and pulling out the letter to read thoroughly.

"E-excuse me?"

Esme, so engrossed in not spilling tomato soup on her clothes, half thought the sound had come from some other conversation elsewhere in the hall.

"Sorry to bother you, really I am."

Was Esme imagining this?

A frown already sculpted into her features, Esme slowly put the spoon back down in the bowl and lifted her head. Almost to her amazement, she noticed a young Ravenclaw student stood in front of her.

This nearly startled Esme, and upon further inspection she didn't recognise the girl - nor could identify what year she might belong to other than one of the early ones.

"Sorry." The girl, with a wild mane of frizzy red hair and an equally flushed red face littered with freckles, apologised again.

"For what?" Esme asked.

"Huh?" The girl stammered, growing more flustered.

"Well, what did you do to be sorry for?" She asked again.

"Oh." This seemed to confuse the young girl for a moment before she continued, "Erm, nothing, really."

Play nice.

Esme's frown deepened as the voice of Regulus rang out.

She had definitely imagined that - it was in her head because Regulus definitely wasn't there.

"Can I help you?" Esme raised an eyebrow.

"P-please." She stammered, "Are you the Head Girl? My friend-he said you were."

Esme looked down at her Head Girl badge pinned to her robes. "I sure hope I am." She responded.

Do try not to be so bloody difficult.

Sighing with irritation, Esme reiterated, "I am, yes. Do you want something?"

Obviously she does.

"Well, I was going to ask Andrea; she's our Prefect, isn't she?" The girl, now more certain that Esme wasn't going to shout at her, sat down opposite her at the table, "I can't find her anywhere and I didn't know who else to ask."

Esme rolled her eyes, "Merlin, not Andrea. That girl kicked up such a fuss about not becoming Head Girl, well it turns out she's an utterly useless Prefect. Don't waste your time with her."

Aren't you going to ask the poor girl's name?

"Shut. Up." Esme whispered to herself, shaking her head slightly.

"So..." She continued somewhat hesitantly, "I had to come and ask you, but I really didn't want to bother you. Everyone says-well... You're busy a lot."

The older girl took a deep breath, and questioned, "What's your name?"

"Eira McCormack." She finally introduced herself with a small, tentative smile.

"Alright." Esme nodded, "Well I'm-"

"Esmerelda Avery." Eira interrupted, "Everyone knows you."

Wonder why that is.

"Anyway..." She pushed past it, "What's wrong?"

Eira grimaced slightly, and took a deep breath in before explaining, "Well... I lost my favourite quill somewhere in the Potions classroom, and it's from my dad who doesn't get to come home much because of work."

Esme, again, didn't really understand what this issue was. "Your eyes do work though, right?"

Alright, snarky.

"I mean," Esme clarified, clearing her throat, "Why can't you just search the classroom for it with your friend?"

Eira explained, "Professor Slughorn hates me, you see. I'm ever so terrible at Potions and I'm scared he'll make fun of me for being dim if I go and ask to search through his stuff for it."

"Fine." Esme abruptly rose to her feet, pushed the half-full bowl of soup away, and pocketed her letter. "Let's go then, hurry up." She signalled for Eira to follow her as she began striking down the row between the tables.

You're going to show off now, aren't you?

"Shut up!" Esme hissed to herself and wafted her hand past her head as if there was an actual person there whispering into her ear who she could swat away.

Truthfully, she need only cast Accio and the quill in question would be back in Eira McCormack's possession before a second had even passed.

"Th-thank you ever so much." Eira beamed brightly as she chased after the much taller girl, "Really, it means a lot."

Esme hummed in response.

"Everyone says you're so intimidating I was worried you'd just laugh at me... Or shout. But people are wrong about you, you know." Eira continued.

"Oh, right?"

"I think people have the wrong impression because you look very cool and intimidating." The younger girl kept on as she was practically jogging to keep up with Esme.

Esme resisted rolling her eyes, "How nice."

"You're very nice though." Eira complimented with a sweet smile.

Shame nobody is around to see this.

Gritting her teeth together, Esme had to resist shouting at the voice swirling around her head and instead tightly clenched her hands at her sides as they made their way down into the dungeons.

"Slughorn will probably be in his office over lunch anyway, so we can just go in." She explained, "He's grown fond of me now I'm Head Girl and he thinks I'll have a successful career - though being good at Potions also helps."

You'd be tempted to have a shocking career just to prove him wrong, wouldn't you?

Perhaps it was lingering guilt that was holding Regulus' voice in her head, or perhaps Esme really was mad.

Either way, it was certainly going to get on her nerves.