esther had the entire school of witchcraft and wizardry whipped for her

it was like set in stone; everybody who liked women either once had a crush on her, did have one on her as we speak or will most definitely develop one in the near future. she was the it-girl of hogwarts, a rich, hot and blonde hufflepuff that turned heads everywhere she went, only had good grades and - miraculously - got along with anyone and everyone. one would think that, with that sort of popularity, she'd have quite a lot of people jealous of her; nobody ever spoke badly about her. esther seemed to be friends with everybody, whoever you asked, they'd praise her in the most flattering way

esther had everything she - and others - wanted; money to drown in, clothes that fit her perfectly and made her look like a hollywood actress from the fifties, the most gorgeous smile, commendable academic results, a loving circle of friends and family and boy was she beautiful. with her naturally vanilla blond hair that was styled neatly even on bad days, with her flawless lips that she painted with ysl's №2 pourpre intouchable on the days she didn't use №18 prune in fire, with her full lashes that accentuated her green eyes just right and her pretty perfect nose

the girl was glowing, really, always a bundle of friendly energy that seemed to be highly contagious. and as perfect as she was, she could dance, which was not only an incredibly attractive trait but also proved useful as the annual spring dance approached; she would teach those that could not manage a basic waltz

"hello, you," she beamed at the first person she considered a talking stage as she whirled through the room in her black and white polka dot skirt and scrunched her perfect nose at you, "you dance terribly, but it's nothing I cannot fix," she told you honestly and swiftly seized your hand to spin you around playfully, "lift your feet more, sugar," her №1 brun in secure- painted lips tugged into a grin, "and listen to the music"