Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

one. tradgedy is a damaged mind

The shadows were whispering, and Valerie knew not how to tune the misery out.

     Surely was it a nightmare, for our minds are cruel, and hers appeared after many years of torture to be her greatest enemy. Shadows and darkness and words of disapproval; no one else than herself could know her every fear, toy with her mind and dig her into a hole of her own creation.

     Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. She could choose not to believe the whispering into her ear, the presence grabbing a chokehold around her neck. "You're dangerous, Valerie."

     I know.

     Shadows dancing in circles, hand gripping her shoulders, her arms, her hair — Valerie stumbled backwards; eyes widening, sight blurring. Why?

     Tears, she realized a second too late, for it was already rolling down her cheek and whoever stood beside her had already seen it. A serene laugh echoing through the dark, sensing chills down her spine. The darkness trailing around her fingers did not go away, no, it seemed to do the opposite — growing and growing, forcefully picking apart her insides, Valerie fearing she might accidentally succumb entirely.

     "Pathetic", whispered the voices, again and again and again.

     "Shut up", did Valerie call out, over and over. No one appeared to listen, for mercilessly did they continue — her brain aching, heart skipping beats, hands trembling with darkness taking her over.

     The shadows gripped her too tightly, the whispers too loud. Valerie being Valerie, she could only oppose to her volatile mind for so long until close to giving up — this time it appeared to happen too fast, too violently. Feeling herself dissolve, she let the chaos take over; mind disassociating from the world as she leaned back and allowed herself to be gone.

      At least until a stern voice called out her name rather angrily, the teenage girl sitting up straighter in her chair — watching with wide eyes when trying to gather her surroundings, observing both her hands and feeling surprise when no dark mist circled up her arms like ropes forcefully tying her down, restricting her sanity.

      "Miss Lecelere." Minerva McGonagall was a direct woman, speaking formally, her posture remaining proud and straightened out no matter the situation. Rumors circled whether or not she favored Gryffindors — of course she did, but considering Professor Snape's obvious favoritism toward his own house, along with him continuously dismissing and punishing the Gryffindors, no one but Slytherins themselves could blame her.

      It seemed, however, that no matter the teacher, their mindset changed whenever the situation included Valerie Leclere; McGongall's expression switching from stern to concerned when the young girl first jolted awake in her seat.

      "Yes, professor?" Replied Valerie after being given some time to reapply her composure — a hand ran through her dark, uttermost unruly hair while she fought the natural instinct to blush in embarrassment at being caught asleep in class.

      "Is something the matter?" Other students in the classroom listened intently, eyes directly onto the thirteen-year-old. It was no rarity of her appearing to get rather lost in thought, and at times she would freeze and simply stare ahead as if reality was slowly dissolving before her very eyes. By the looks of it, every teacher knew the exact reason why — adamant at snapping her out every single time. As silence reigned the room, everybody awaited any sort of reaction from the young Slytherin, though her face was as morphed from stone, features displaying little to no emotion.

     "No, I'm fine professor."

      With an formal nod, McGonagall spun around on her heel after some moments of consideration; the slight tapping of her shoes against the floor sounding through all their ears while she strode to
the board. "I believe that is all for today." Chairs scraping, parchments gathered and shoved down shoulder bags — the professor frowned in disapproval at the students appearing a little bit too eager to leave the classroom. "Your essays are due tomorrow."

      Nobody was full heartedly listening — some already at the door while Valerie calmly gathered her belongings, hazel eyes roaming back and forth between the doorway and professor McGonagall who was still observing her, appearing rather concerned. Having no energy for a conversation about potential nightmares and slipping control, the thirteen-year-old stood up quickly, emerald green decorated robes flowing behind her as she hastily left the room.

      The hallways were swarming with fellow classmates and elder students — she kept her pace steady, silently questioning the way her hands were still trembling, voices slowly drowning her own perception of her surroundings. Being caught off guard following the nightmare, the noise now swarming her brain was unbearable, and to her own disappointment did the thirteen-year-old struggle to armor the walls around her mind; the failure in shutting the surroundings thoughts of her classmates' creation out being a mistake that left her a pounding headache.

      Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, her lungs inflated with oxygen necessary to calm her racing heart — feet haltering their pace forward, nearing a wall as she leaned against the tiles seconds later; inhaling and exhaling discreetly to not alarm any passing teachers of her potential meltdown. Slowly did the trembling stop, and slowly could she allow her shoulders relaxation.

      "Are you okay?" A calm tone asked; breaking through the mayhem of whispers and queries and statements dissolving her from within, Kieran Lacroix approaching with his usual laid back demeanor. No matter his properly straightened out posture and expensive appearance, his brunette curls hung loosely down his forehead; alert eyes scanning his best friend carefully, as if aware of what was happening without needing any vocal confirmation to prove his suspicions correct.

      Valerie took one last deep breath, plastering a smile onto her lips and nodding her head up and down. "I'm fine", she told, even though knowing Kieran would easily see through her lie.

      Always had the two been close — growing up their families maintained a long history of friendship, their family mansions located right within close proximity, the two thirteen-year-olds a minute long walk from one another. When finding out about her very prominent legilimency abilities far beyond what she could control, Kieran had been first to try and help, and Valerie could only smile and thank him for his many efforts.

      "Good", said Kieran, trusting her word and putting belief into her being able to handle it on her own. Then he gently latched onto her arm — easily pulling her away from the wall and transferring her bag from her left shoulder to his own. "Let's go, we have Snape next and he certainly will not appreciate us being late."

      Valerie was not allowed to even voice one protest before he began dragging her along toward the dungeons.