"I'm sorry, Professor… I got lost."
Esther lifted her head slowly, her eyes rimmed with red, glistening as though tears might spill at any moment.
Professor Snape, of course, was not fooled for even half a second.
He gave a cold snort, his gaze pausing briefly on her empty hands before he spoke with thinly veiled sarcasm.
"Lost?" he drawled. "How unfortunate. And may I ask—did your textbooks also decide to lose themselves?"
The level of mockery was… unexpectedly mild.
Huh?
That was it?
Esther had fully prepared herself to be verbally annihilated, reduced to ashes and scattered across the dungeon floor.
She was secretly delighted, but what if this was merely the calm before the storm?
What if Professor Snape intended to crush her later, once she relaxed her guard?
No.
She absolutely could not allow that.
So, Esther's eyes immediately filled with tears, which promptly fell with a soft plop.
Before officially beginning her performance, she cast a quick glance toward the classroom.
This was a joint lesson between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
The Ravenclaws, as expected, observed calmly, expressions composed, as though they were watching a carefully staged experiment.
The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were visibly tense—especially her roommates.
They were luckier than she was, at least.
They had managed to enter the classroom before the professor arrived.
Now they stared at Esther with worry written all over their faces.
"I'm sorry, Professor…" Esther stammered. "I—I didn't mean to do it. My textbooks were taken by someone… no, I mean...I lost them myself."
She began to cry.
Not quietly.
Her whole body trembled with fear, her words broken and halting, yet the meaning was painfully clear.
Anyone with functioning ears could tell that she had most likely been bullied and had her belongings stolen.
Snape's brows knitted together sharply, irritation flickering across his face as he opened his mouth to silence her.
She didn't give him the chance.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Esther wailed, her voice rising. "They were terrifying, wuwu... I was so scared! I didn't know what to do!"
Snape stepped forward, his face dark enough to rival the bottom of a cauldron that had just exploded.
"Miss Esther Mayne," he said coldly, every syllable heavy with warning, "I suggest you calm yourself."
The rest of the students were so startled by the sudden turn of events that not a single one dared to breathe too loudly.
Calm down?
That was never part of the plan.
Esther cried pitifully, tears streaming like falling petals in the rain, while inside her mind remained perfectly clear.
She judged the moment carefully—and then let out a soft, broken whimper before collapsing straight to the stone floor.
This was not a gentle fall.
It was solid and painful.
Esther hissed quietly in pain, but there was no need to pretend she had fainted.
Her goal was simple—to make a scene, the bigger the better.
Sure enough, gasps rippled through the classroom.
Professor Snape's expression darkened as he strode forward and crouched down to examine her.
Esther whimpered softly, looking utterly overwhelmed, as if she had suffered a complete mental breakdown from shock.
Snape reached out, pinching her cheek roughly to assess her condition.
She immediately grabbed his hand and sobbed louder.
"I'm sorry, Professor… I was too timid. I was scared...I didn't dare to resist. Wuwu… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
In her previous life, Esther had studied acting.
Though her career had ended almost as soon as it began—thanks to an untimely and tragically permanent death—the skills remained.
And unfortunately for everyone present, her performance was horrifyingly realistic.
Snape froze for a fraction of a second.
Then his voice dropped even lower, sharp with suppressed fury. "Enough. Calm yourself."
The aura was terrifying—enough to silence most students instantly.
Unfortunately, just as you could never wake someone who was pretending to sleep, you also couldn't calm someone who was determined to act unhinged.
By the time the performance reached its climax, Esther herself had gone numb.
Her breathing turned erratic. Her body began to twitch—this time, not entirely by choice.
At this point, Professor Snape may have genuinely feared that she would die right there in the Potions classroom.
With a grim expression, he pulled out his wand.
"Stupefy."
A flash of light burst from the wand's tip, and Esther collapsed into true unconsciousness.
This move completely caught Esther off guard.
The spell stunned more than just her.
A wave of shock swept through the classroom.
"I will take her to the hospital wing," Snape said coldly. "You will study independently."
Fortunately, Professor Snape was unable to commit bodily harm against students within Hogwarts.
Though his expression was unpleasant, he still issued instructions before lifting Esther with one arm and striding out of the classroom.
The look he gave her unconscious form was one of deep distaste—as if she were a troll, or perhaps a particularly offensive slug.
Esther, however, knew none of this.
When she awoke, the faint scent of potions lingered in the air.
Her acting had been abruptly interrupted by a Stunning Spell, but the effect should have been sufficient.
After all, with so many witnesses, Professor Snape—and Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff—would not simply ignore what had happened.
She rubbed her aching head slowly. The moment she sat up, hurried footsteps approached.
"Merlin! You're finally awake! How are you feeling now?"
A gentle female voice spoke, and Madam Pomfrey appeared beside her bed.
Esther shook her head timidly.
"I'm fine, thank you. How did I get here? What about class?"
Her emotions began to rise slightly, as if she were deeply afraid of being punished for missing lessons.
Hufflepuffs were widely known among other houses as obedient, timid, painfully earnest. Esther's behavior wasn't out of character—though she privately acknowledged she was playing the part a little too well.
Madam Pomfrey reassured her gently.
"Don't worry, child. Professor Snape personally brought you here. Your Head of House has been informed as well. She'll come to speak with you after her class ends at noon. If something happened, you can tell me first."
That was exactly what Esther wanted.
She hesitated for show, then recounted the conflict she had with Draco and the others.
She did not exaggerate—only stated the facts.
Firstly, they had gone too far.
Secondly, she looked pitiful enough that sympathy naturally tilted in her favor.
"Merlin's beard," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed indignantly. "Slytherin students extorting and stealing from others—Severus truly needs to discipline them properly."
She patted Esther's shoulder with concern.
"Don't worry, dear. With your Head of House involved, justice will be done."
"I just want my textbooks back," Esther said softly.
Madam Pomfrey stroked her head affectionately and asked if she felt unwell anywhere else.
After staying with her for a while and watching her drink a calming draught, she went off to attend to other duties.
Perhaps because of the potion, Esther soon drifted into a heavy sleep.
When she woke again, it was already noon.
Before opening her eyes, she heard quiet sobbing.
"Madam Pomfrey… is she really alright? Why hasn't she woken up yet?"
That was Ernie's voice.
"Please don't worry, Mr. Macmillan," Madam Pomfrey replied kindly. "Miss Mayne was simply overly frightened. I gave her a calming potion, she's only sleepy because of the potion. She'll wake up once it wears off."
That was when Esther opened her eyes.
The moment she did, Ernie practically threw himself at her.
"Thank Merlin! Esther, you're finally awake!" he exclaimed. "You have no idea how scared I was! I heard from your roommate that you were sent to the hospital wing, and I panicked. I made it halfway through History of Magic before I couldn't stand it anymore—I skipped the rest of the class and rushed here!"
Esther smiled faintly, warmth flickering in her eyes.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "I'm really fine."
***
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