Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

fourteen. death might come knocking at your door

Valerie Leclere was more calculating than she was impulsive, which is why Harry Potter and Hermione Granger stopped for a moment to stare at the Slytherin they had least expected to come for their rescue.

     From her wand flashed spells without a single word spoken aloud: the branches of the Womping Willow bothered by her cleaver counter-attacks, haltering for short seconds under the influence of the thirteen-year-old's magic — allowing Valerie the time-frame to jump out of her way, or to position herself better to somehow figure out a way past the vicious tree wishing nothing but to tear them apart.

     She had gotten Hermione free by stubbornly calling out 'Immobilus' within her mind: the many branches momentarily freezing, Hermione narrowly escaping it's hold before it once more broke free — Valerie sighing in exhaustion when coming to realize no spells would work for long enough.

     She knew it had a weak point: it had to. No logical sense could be made upon planting a violent tree upon school grounds without knowing any way to halter the catastrophe it might otherwise inflict, and therefore she kept trying. Again and again, until cursing aloud — meeting with Harry Potter's gaze and motioning toward the passageway safely protected by the Womping Willow. "Go for it after I count to three," she called aloud: Harry and Hermione exchanging questioning looks with one another.

     "Wait, what?—"

     "One," Valerie called out: positioning herself nearer the passage-way herself. If the two Gryffindors managed to get through, she'd simply have to leap past the branches and hope for the best.

     "Leclere—," Harry tried again, but was ignored just as mercilessly as seconds before.

     "Two."

     She recited the spell in her thoughts, preparing herself to put it into use once more. Her energy was running low, and therefore she figured it less idiotic to not try and do it wordlessly. "Three." Harry and Hermione could be seen overtaken with hesitation, though decided to trust her questionable judgement. "Immobilus," she spoke as clearly as she could, a flash leaving the tip of her wand as the Gryffindor's settled into a run.

     Only when sure she'd seen both their figures disappear down the very same passage Peter Pettigrew had taken Ron only minutes earlier, she inhaled a breath — launching herself forward in hopes of evading the slashing branches nearing with frightening speed.

     She winced when her shoulder exploded with pain, however centered her balance and slid across the grass with sharp determination visible across her features. A strong sensation of relief flushed her chest free from panic when suddenly collapsing into Harry at the bottom of the passage way — taking a moment to collect herself when certain she was momentarily out of danger. "Merlin," she muttered aloud: bewildered by her own stupidity.

     "... Are you okay?" Harry's voice asked only seconds later: sounding surprisingly uncertain, as if not knowing how to approach the girl laying before himself and Hermione.

    A wave of images flashed by her mind, Valerie needing to suffocate the feeling of discomfort growing more prominent from within. Harry looked a lot like his father, and the simple thought of James Potter made her unsure of how to proceed — denial still plaguing her sense of reason.

     "Uh, yes—," she paused to clear her throat, along with the awkwardness her very presence inflicted upon the small group. "I'm fine."

     "That's good..." Harry replied with a polite nod: Hermione fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt from where she stood alongside her close friend. The tension was so obvious neither of the teenagers could do else than succumb to the uncertainty.