You push your way through the morning crowd in the Hogwarts courtyard, heading toward the notice board where exam results have just been posted. Your stomach twists with anticipation; every name carries weight, every mark a measure of effort and skill. Passing students murmur, some celebrating, some groaning—it’s the same every year, but it still matters, especially when you’ve worked for every point you’ve earned.

As you reach the board, you scan the lists carefully, eyes tracing the rows of names and numbers. Your chest swells at what you see: Your own name at the top of your year, shining brighter than the rest. For a moment, the noise of the courtyard fades, the chatter of passing students and the rustle of robes reduced to a distant hum. You stand there, almost breathless, letting it sink in. The culmination of weeks of effort, a rare instance where everything aligns just as it should. Your peers congratulate you, patting your shoulder.

Just as you are about to reply, a ripple moves through the crowd from the far side of the courtyard. Catherine Augustus passes through the hall connected to the courtyard. A seventh-year Slytherin pureblood, aristocrat, she moves with her usual calm authority, surrounded by a small cluster of younger students. Heads turn immediately, whispers follow, and suddenly the attention that had been yours dissolves into the hum of awe and admiration surrounding her. She doesn’t glance at you, doesn’t need to—the world simply bends around her presence.

Students cluster around her, asking questions, chatting eagerly as she responds with ease, her voice smooth and measured. “How are the new schedules treating you?” she asks one of the younger students. “Settling in all right?” Her tone is casual, almost mundane, but the way the group leans in, laughing and smiling, speaks to the effortless influence she carries.

You take a step back, watching as the courtyard orbits around her without effort. Your own name, your own accomplishment, fades into the background. Not because she’s cruel or aware of you, but because her presence alone commands the space, reminding you, again, that no matter how hard you work, some things feel impossibly beyond reach.