Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

twenty eight. when called upon to face danger

Large events usually call for bliss and anticipation, and as the evening hours approached in torturously slow pace, it was obvious by every step you took within the Hogwarts perimeter that the entirety of students were excited.

Whispers of speculation, bets and heated discussions regarding the expected winner was no anomaly, and throughout their Transfiguration class earlier the same day, McGonagall had felt forced to disrupt her lecture and scold her students for being unfocused and discussing matters irrelevant to the subject being taught, at least five times.

In reward she'd handed out an abundance of homework, hence why curses and profanities could be heard echoing through the Slytherin common room as Kieran banged his head against a table — exasperated toward the spells of which he could not grasp basic concept of.

"Here, let me see," Valerie spoke moments after sighing deeply at her friend's dramatics: holding out her hand to signal him to hand over his book. He did as told, and her eyes scanned the flipped open pages shortly thereafter. Though he did well in most of his subjects — especially potions — he'd always been quite dreadful at Transfiguration. Valerie could not fathom why. "Kieran, this is a Color change charm—,"

"I know," he rudely cut off, grasping at his book and claiming it back.

"We went over it earlier today in class," Valerie continued. He had been able to perform it with accuracy merely hours before, which had her confused as to his clear frustration.

"I know," he hissed. "I seem to have forgotten how to do it in the matter of... Six hours."

"Well, it's simple, really," Valerie began with a smirk across her lips, well aware she sounded like a know-it-all and that it would annoy him. "Just know the incantation, be sharp in your movement, and..." She aimed the tip of her wand toward his transfiguration book, performed a wordless spell, and watched as the cover went bright green in the matter of seconds.

Kieran narrowed his eyes at her almost immediately, a humorous look entering across his features. "You know, you're really good at this."

"At what?"

"Channeling your inner Granger." Even though a smile curled the corners of her lips upwards, Valerie reached out to lightly slap him at the back of his head. Kieran winched and reached his arms up to his defense.

"Oi! Don't be mean," she spoke out of simple politeness, feeling oddly restrained from speaking badly about the Golden trio, not because she cared about any of them, but in regards to her father. "I'm not even sure I have the right to bad talk them anymore," she chuckled.

Kieran was quick as always to counter with a slick comment, "Oh, because Potter's your brother?" He said so loudly some fellow Slytherins passing them by stopped hastily to take in what was had been revealed. Valerie cringed — hiding from plain sight by turning her back on by passers, glaring at Kieran.

"Half-brother," she hissed angrily, equally as loud as a sort of defense against observing eyes.

"What is this is hear?" A new voice cut in from behind her, Valerie for some reason finding her cheeks flushing with redness as a figure took the seat alongside her in the couch: sparing no thought to maintain at a distance as he placed himself so close their shoulders were touching. "Is Valerie Leclere tainting her blood purity with the presence of blood traitors such as the Potters?" Theodore Nott spoke in a theatrical manner, a hand on his heart while acting out the line as if humorously outraged. "What a shame, pure blood being wasted like that—,"

Before he had time to finish his antics, Valerie had grabbed onto a pillow and aimed it straight at his face: ignoring the way her heart began to beat faster inside her chest in regards of his presence. "Shut your mouth, Nott."