Hogwarts was tightly in the grips of chilly November, and the leaves on the trees had turned amber and were started to flutter down to the ground.

An uncomfortable normality surrounded Esme that was slowing the passing of time to an almost unbearable rate.

Regulus was regularly training with his quidditch team, and were now on a very impressive winning streak through all the friendly games they'd played.

Dirk was ensuring they were all up to date with their studies and, so far, had done a successful job of reigning in Esme from mocking Andrea Goodman and the other Prefects who Esme warranted deserving of being "taken down a peg or two."

The wider wizarding world seemed to far away, and the threat of the Death Eaters were almost a memory from the past.

Up in the castle in Scotland, Esme felt so removed from everything that really mattered. As time continued to pass, and leaves continued to fall and winter grew nearer, she almost felt as though she had lost all of the importance in her life. Sometimes it seemed as though Esme had become another typical student and that she was so insignificant in relation to the wider world.

Esme wanted to be doing something meaningful, anything that would make a positive difference. Yet the days continued to roll by and all she was left with to occupy herself with was her own thoughts.

As anyone who has spent any significant period of time trapped in their own mind will understand, that can lead you down a precarious rabbit hole.

"You have much on your mind." Dumbledore peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles as he looked down at the girl.

The Headmaster and Head Girl stood in his office, simply looking up at the many old portraits which lined the high walls.

"I'd be worried if I didn't." Esme replied, finally tearing her gaze away from the sleeping paintings.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, before walking back around his desk and asking, "Are you worried?"

"N...No... I-I don't think so." She shook her head.

"Miss Avery, worry does not make us weak. It shows us that we have concern and things worth protecting." He informed her.

Esme thought, a natural frown settling over her features before she spoke up, "I'm not scared of what I'm doing - of going against the Death Eaters."

"That's not what I'm referring to, Esmerelda." Dumbledore shook his head softly with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You can't read minds, can you?" She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "Because you really should disclose that before every conversation with anyone ever."

For a moment, Esme thought Dumbledore let out a slight chuckle before he replied, "No, Miss Avery, I don't read minds."

Esme could tell, rather unfortunately, that no matter how much she skirted around the topic, Dumbledore was going to continue to question her. He was looking at her now, comfortably assuming she would speak before he asked her again.

"Did you only make me Head Girl so we could confer in your office without suspicion?" She asked a last, feeling a slight relief at airing her concern.

Whilst it was clear Dirk deserved to be Head Boy for his hard work and reliability, Esme was very much a wildcard and had never really gone above and beyond to warrant such a position.

"Do you think you are not good enough to be Head Girl?" Dumbledore offered a slight smile.

Esme had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that it wouldn't have any effect on the Headmaster. "Well I'm not a Captain in quidditch. I'm not a Prefect. I have very minimal respect for the house system and most rules. I just... I'm not sure I'm good enough. There are people that worked for years for this."

"Last year you told me you hoped to work for the Ministry in order to help wizards under persecution for their magic." He remembered.

"Yes..."

He continued, "You don't allow walls or boundaries to determine anything. You wish to help those who are less fortunate, regardless of where they come from. Miss Avery, you always look at the bigger picture, and that is true selflessness. It makes you a remarkable Head Girl, as you see what is best for everyone and know no bias of houses. I know all of my students, and I know that you are the best for the job."

"Right, well... Thank you. That was a lot." Esme spoke hesitantly, tucking her hair behind both ears as she looked down at the floor.

"Even the strongest of us will have moments of weakness, where we must question ourselves. At the end we will all come out stronger." Dumbledore nodded his head once.

It was in this moment that it really occurred to Esme that she didn't want to be having that conversation with the Professor. There was someone in particular that she wanted to seek comfort from, and he would most likely be able to lift the weight from her shoulders.

After thanking the Professor again, she left down the spiral staircase and went in search of one boy in particular.

She didn't know what had caused it, but Esme couldn't get the hurtful thoughts out of her head.

Something had changed, but she didn't know what or when, and she just didn't feel good enough anymore.

Esme was selfish and argumentative and petty. She was often inconsiderate and oblivious. She was a Death Eater and could easily give herself and other Death Eaters into the Aurors, but she hadn't - out of fear for herself and Regulus.

She hadn't worked to become Head Girl, no matter what Dumbledore said.

She didn't deserved Regulus. That much was clear; he was far too good for her.

Perhaps, no matter how much she tried to run from her family and who she was, Esme would never be able to escape them.

She was fundamentally just a bad person.

"Yeah, that seems about right." Esme nodded as she muttered to herself, now just fully accepting the thoughts circling her head.

Without even realising it, Esme found herself outside on the grass slopes. The cold evening wind whipped through her hair, turning her cheeks red.

She seemed to be spiralling further, and it was starting to somewhat scare Esme. Slowly, she sat down on the ground and gripped onto the ground, running her fingers through the blades of grass for some feeling of reality.

"Esme?"

For a moment, Esme supposed she might have finally gone insane as she had started to hear things. She blinked, and lifted her head to turn and see Regulus Black stood over her. He had a book tucked tightly under his arm, and an expression of concern etched into his face.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked.

"Oh." Esme briefly paused, "I don't know, really. How did you find me?"

Regulus watched her carefully, before taking the book out from under his arm and sitting down beside her on the grass. "I was going to meet you after your meeting with Dumbledore but I was running late and then Rosier said he saw you come out here."

"Oh." She repeated, "If I'd known, I would have waited for you." And her gaze wandered back out to the rolling hills in the distance.

"Esme." He murmured softly, "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"Er... Not particularly." Now she was actually with Regulus, she wasn't completely sure she wanted to open up anymore. Esme's parents had never been particularly emotional or vulnerable people, and this had clearly passed down to the girl.

Regulus frowned, knowing for certain now that something was clearly wrong. "What does that mean?" He inquired.

"Do you think... I don't know..." Esme's voice trailed off for a few seconds before she continued, "Is there perhaps a potion or enchantment that can make you feel... Just... Sad?"

"Sad? A potion?" He was utterly lost, "Esme, I don't think so. Why? Who's sad?"

She sighed, "Oh, it doesn't matter. It was a stupid question anyway. Obviously nobody has slipped me a potion."

It clicked. "Are you upset? Did Dumbledore say something? Ugh, did that stuck-up Andrea say something?" As the words left his mouth, Regulus already knew the answer. Esme didn't care for the opinions of Dumbledore nor Andrea, so nothing they could say could ever really affect the girl so much.

"I don't know... I-it's hard to explain. I don't think I can." She shook her head, tearing some of the grass out of the ground absentmindedly.

"Try, please. For me. I want to know what's going on." Regulus lowered his voice to practically a whisper. He turned so he was fully facing her, whilst she continued to train her eyes on the horizon.

After another moment, she spoke up, "Alright... I have a problem. I don't know how to fix it, so I need you to. But I don't want anyone else to know about it."

"Of course, anything." He nodded, "What can I help with?"

Esme took a deep breath, hoping in the next few seconds she could figure out exactly what she was going to say. Already the discomfort at addressing her issues was setting in, and Esme was starting to feel a little nauseous.

If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have spoken a word.

But Esme and Regulus were always there for each other, and they were the most important person to the other. Regulus made Esme want to be a better person, so she knew she could open up without worrying too much.