Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

twenty seven. 'forbidden' is by the cruel disregarded

A squeak coming from above, and so Valerie tore her eyes from the words of that day's Daily Prophet: observing with care as her rather magnificent owl appeared to glide down the skylight oh so much more gracefully than any of it's company.

Letters and packets rained down upon the House tables mere seconds later, and while students reached for their gifts, Valerie sat patiently waiting for her owl — Onyx — to land before her.

"Thank you," she uttered and handed over some snacks as a reward when a letter was gently placed in her hands. The pet squealed happily, devouring in the food while Valerie's eyes drifted across the neat letters written across the envelope. It was from James Potter, and although she spared no hesitation in opening it, she would much rather save it until she had the opportunity to write back.

Hence, she carefully pushed the mail into her shoulder back, intending to go back to the last remains of her breakfast when a sharp hiss came from beside her. "Ouch!" Kieran called out, before a series of profanities followed. He flinched away from his own owl, who appeared to have snapped at him for not being generous enough with the food offered. Valerie remained unable to restrain a low chuckle as the brown owl again and again went for her best friend's fingers, until finally he gave in simply to rid himself of the conflict.

Not shy to brag about Onyx's impeccable manners, Valerie smirked widely — letting her owl calmly fly away, not showing even a sign of violence when granted no more reward for his efforts of traveling with her mail.

"How come you get the well-mannered owl, while my mother purchase for me a literal nightmare?" Kieran complains when having to dodge his owl — named Athena — as she flew away, seemingly intent on slapping him in the face with her wings as she went.

"I think the owl's behavior heavily depends on the owner, Kieran," Valerie humorously scoffed while standing up from her seat seeing as their first Defense against the Dark Arts class awaited. Her best friend followed shortly after, swinging his back over his shoulder while easily catching up with her in only a few long strides.

"I disagree, had that been the case, Athena would have been wonderful." He sounded bitter, yet was willing to let the subject go only mere seconds later when his attention came upon Alastor Moody — curious as of how the auror had ended up a Hogwarts teacher. "You think he'll be any good?"

"Who?" Valerie spoke just to annoy him, knowing very well who he was referring to.

"Moody."

"Hm. I don't know, if being honest," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. The previous year had been enlightened by Remus Lupin's creative ways, while their first and second year teachers had simply been dreadful. She hoped for brilliance from the old auror, yet had learned to never expect anything from the Defense against the Dark Arts teachers. "As long as he's no worse than Lockhart I'll happily accept him."

Kieran stifled a laugh, needing to save breath as they claimed the many stairs of the castle, in direction of the correct classroom.

"We'll, I'd much prefer if he's better than Quirrell also," he added only a minute later once they reached the right floor at least, recalling the very first teacher they experienced teaching the subject. Quirrell and the constant smell of garlic that followed him was traumatizing indeed, and the fact that he ended up carrying Voldemort at the back of his head for the entirety of the term only made matters worse.