Esther Aarons

@sinsofesther

Send my muse “Do you miss me?” and I will generate a number between 1-80. The randomized starter will be used in a starter for you.

“I miss you more than blood misses the vein.” Evan started with a small roll of his eyes in her direction. “Which might happen to you if you don’t leave me alone, mudblood.”

Esther looked at the boy, startled, “I-I wasn’t-” But explaining that she’d been singing a muggle song to herself probably wouldn’t do her much good in this situation. “Sorry.” She murmured.

“Look, I know you want to talk about how fabulous I looked in that dress, but can you find me some crutches so I can get out of here? There’s no way I’m getting stuck in this bed and miss my victory party.”

“The healer said she’ll fix your leg, Davey. Your health is more important than a party, isn’t it?” She asked, one of their housemates had asked Esther to bring him a change of clothes, but when she’d agreed to doing so, she’d expected that he’d be healed already. “Come on, don’t make me choose between being responsible for you getting hurt, or being a tattle tale.”

Cheesy Missing You Starters

It had been hours since he had returned from his Uncle Harold’s funeral but Oscar was still in shock. His death - murder - had been unexpected to say the least, and as usual, the Ministry had little leads about who the killer was. But he knew they wouldn’t just drop the investigation till they found out what had happened, his uncle had been an important member of the Wizengamot after all. He took another sip from his bottle of firewhiskey - drinking excessively was not something Oscar did often but he didn’t limit himself that evening. 

Esther spotted the boy on her way back from the library. He was drinking and seemed a bit off, so she approached him, the caring sister in her wanting to make sure he was alright enough to get back to his common room. “You know, there’s no such thing as firewhiskey in the muggle world.” She said softly, crouching down beside him, trying to gauge how much he’d drank already.

When she’d received the owl telling her to meet her mother in Hogsmeade that weekend Bellatrix had been delighted especially as the same invitation did not appear to have been extended to her sisters. She thrived off of love and attention from her parents, it was all she had ever really wanted since she was a little girl, so to be singled out for a day with her mother felt like somewhat of a prize. Until she arrived and Druella spent an hour grilling her about Sirius and it became very apparent that she held Bella responsible for him turning his back on the Black family. That had always been the problem. Bella had always been held accountable for the the actions of her sisters and cousins and when they didn’t conform to the expected standards she was the one punished. Just as she was that day, returning to Hogwarts with raw and painful slashes down her back that hindered her movement. She was grateful that she could hide them with her robes but hiding the pain they caused was much harder so she did her best to stay out of sight, hiding in the grounds and hoping no one would witness her pain or the tears she was struggling to contain when the only person she should be able to trust to love her had hurt her more than anyone else ever had.

Esther was making her way down towards the greenhouses to work on a paper when she saw the older girl hiding out. It was easy for her to spot others, especially when she grew up with ten siblings, she had learned to have eyes in the back of her head. Carefully, she approached the other, seeing the pain in her eyes that had been something she’d seen in the mirror a few hundred times in her life. “I know you aren’t okay, but is there anything that I can do to help?” She asked softly, kneeling down across from her.

“Is quidditch something to fight about?” She asked the two young students that had almost gotten physical before she arrived because they were on diffrent houses and of course their team was the best. “Just go to your common rooms.” She sighed “Ridiculous.”

“Thank you, Lily.” Esther said to the head girl. She’d tried to break up the fight but neither student would listen to her, despite the points she took from both students. “Apparently they’re more worried about the quidditch cup than they are about the house cup.”