Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

twenty three. scary is pondering upon the past

The tranquility that was soft murmur echoing across the King's Cross station had always been something Valerie had enjoyed.

Heartfelt goodbyes, the smell of smoke stinging her nostrils, the laughter of reuniting friends — never had she realized how easily it could be disrupted until she heard her best friend's voice all the way from across the platform. "You bloody idiot!" Barely did she had time to even look up, nor properly register his presence, before Kieran collided into her side with such force Valerie stumbled right into a group of people, having to mutter quick apologies to be rid of some of the shame.

She winced when embraced so tightly she could barely even inhale, remaining patient for only a few seconds before jokingly hitting Kieran at the back of his head, signaling for him to let her go unless wishing to cause her cardiac arrest.

He did as non-verbally told, however glared down at her with a look so cryptic even Valerie could not understand or translate his intentions. Her eyebrows quirked upwards, while instinctively preparing to defend herself against potential accusations. "Why are you doing that?" She questioned, her voice hinting at uncertainty.

"You could have gotten killed." And so his rant began. It was not funny — not really, however Valerie had been so prepared for his long lecture that it was almost humorous it was now pouring down upon her. She suffocated a chuckle, however failed at restraining the smile tainting her lips. Kieran's reaction came at an instant, the fourteen-year-old narrowing his eyes at his best friend as if finding her unbothered behavior controversial. "It's not funny."

"I sent you a fire message," Valerie countered as-a-matter-of-factly, however Kieran remained unimpressed.

"I was worried."

"You didn't have to be." As her response came, he suddenly appeared as if considering cursing her to silence just to let him speak to a full.

"Oh, really? You went off into a crowd of death eaters, pushed me out of the way while grabbing your wand to duel." He appeared to be shivering at the mere memory of said event. "They're death eaters, Valerie. Of course I had to be worried. You could have died."

     Valerie sighed deeply, however was willing to give up the argument. He was, after all, correct, but never would she speak the words 'you're right' out loud. "Well, I'm not dead." She turned around and motioned behind herself. "James helped me."

     If possible, Kieran's mouth might have fallen to the floor when only now realizing that, right alongside her, stood James Potter, along with Lily and Harry — observing the two best friends' exchange of words rather curiously. He knew not whether it was more surprising she appeared not to be awkward in the man's company, or that she'd spent the last remaining time of their summer break with the Potters. Either way, he quickly dropped the previous subject of conversation, all anger as if washed away.

     "Uh— Hi?" He hesitantly spoke and held out his hand for James, before regretting his actions r shortly thereafter: retracting his arm before James Potter had even had time to register it being held out for him.

     "Nice to meet you," the man instead spoke with a polite nod of his head, as unsure of how to proceed considering Kieran obviously creating tension.

     Valerie — watching the whole exchange — rolled her eyes, before grabbing a rather harsh grip around her best friend's sleeve. "We should probably get going," she told her father: smiling when he did, as if won over by the man's kindness. "... Or there won't be any free compartments to sit in."

     "Yeah, you do that," James Potter replied, then hesitating as if unsure whether or not to proceed with the words at the tip of his tongue. His doubts seemed not to falter even when the decision had been made, yet he managed to sound calm and secure on his words either way. "Respond to my letters, will you?"