Esme tries to alter the conclusions. As if she knows him, and the world he presents himself to is a complete facade- A blank illusion. She's known him long enough that he's creative in that way. Intelligent to fool the eye of the rest of the wizarding world- but not her. There's crimson blood on his clothes, and it's almost like she can smell it. The wretched metallic scent floods her senses, and she has to blink a couple of times until it fades away.