Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

thirty eight. fear is the greatest mind-killer

Never before had the world felt so much alike a cage, surrounding her with intents of tearing her apart. All it had taken was a few words spoken aloud — a threat being voiced into existence — and so the restraints from which Valerie had spent years breaking free was back on, controlling her every move like a marionette.

     The walk back to Hogwarts felt unbearably long, however entering through the doors and stepping within the protective walls was nothing else but suffocating. Valerie could not breathe, tears blurring her sight as she attempted her best to navigate through the hallways through clouded thoughts — every breath hurting with each inhalation, every beat of her heart sending a shockwave of fear throughout her body.

     The distant murmur of voices could be heard from the Great Hall, however she was going the opposite direction. The laughter of students walking through the hallways reached her ears, though she did her best to avoid them.

     Minutes passed before it all became to much, and to not lose her balance she reached her hands out for a wall: leaning her back against the cold bricks of stone before slowly lowering herself to the ground — leaning her head back and squeezing her eyes shut in hopes it would calm the involuntary trembling of her hands, and cease the irregularity of her heart.

     Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She barely made it through a total of three deep breaths before a deep sob broke through her lips: the teenager finally allowing herself to feel.

     Her cheeks were quickly traced with tears, a salty taste on her tongue. She knew not what to do, unable to breathe, unable to think, and so she simply buried her face in her arms — hugging her knees closely to her chest. Valerie Leclere was felt as if she might there and then die, and for a second she felt no dread toward the idea. For a moment she wished for it to happen, simply to be ridden of the fear strong enough to paralyze her.

     Footsteps could be heard echoing through the hallway, and perhaps if she'd been quicker to react she could've avoided the interaction. She wasn't, however, and suddenly Theodore Nott haltered in his pace: a frown spreading rapidly across his features. "Valerie?" he spoke, but when realizing she could not even respond, breathing shallow and rushed, he was instantly by her side.

     She wanted to tell him to leave, to not go near her. He was in danger because of her, and there was someone in Hogwarts who could hurt him if she misstepped. He should stay away from her, however even when trying, she could not force herself to utter the words to dismiss his concern.

     "Hey, you have to breathe," he spoke softly, Valerie unable to do as he said. Slowly the world was beginning to spin around her, and she once again closed her eyes in an attempt to make it stop. "Valerie," said Theodore again, and she felt him cup her face with both his hands — brushing away stray hairs and wiping away some of the tears dampening her cheeks.

     She parted her lips and forced a inhalation into her lungs. It was painful, but supplied her body with oxygen to last her at least half a minute until needing to repeat the process. He continued to comfort her, running his thumb along her jaw.

     "Breathe," he continued to encourage, but sobs still echoed emptily through the abandoned hallways: her eyes flickering open to look at him. Only then seemed he able to notice a certain detail about her face — his frown deepening, eyes overtaken by fury. He was gentle when tilting her head to the side, his eyes drifting across the slight bruising of her cheek. It was subtle, yet there, and although most might not notice, Theodore Nott was a careful observer. "Valerie, what happened?" He spoke with newfound urgency, making sure to meet her eyes.

     No answer came, and simply to be sure his eyes were not deceiving him, he gazed over the redness across her skin once more; anger only growing more prominent.

     "Valerie—" He tried again, an almost pleading look spreading across his features. In hopes to relive his concern, she slowly shook her head; trying to reassure him in some what that she was okay.

     "Theodore, I'm fine," she whispered, not at all sounding convincing. Either way, by the way her eyes only flooded with more tears, and by the way her voice cracked two times within the same sentence, Theodore sighed — deciding it was best to leave it alone until she felt like talking about it.

     Instead, he ran a hand through the front pieces of her her hair, fully brushing it away from her face before bringing her into an embrace: gently wrapping his arms around her, making sure she showed no signs of discomfort with his close proximity before resting his chin atop her head.

     For the first time ever, Valerie set aside any doubts she might carry while in his presence, and allowed herself to melt into his arms and bury her face within his chest. While her tears damped his robes, he ran a comforting hand up and down her back — doing anything his brain could think of to calm her down.

     And, no matter the images playing on repeat within her mind, Valerie slowly but carefully allowed herself to relax; the tears eventually running out, her lungs so torn from all the sobs that she seriously doubted her voice would work properly if she were to speak. "I'm sorry," she whispered anyway: already feeling embarrassed for her breakdown, and especially for him catching her midst it all.

     His chin still atop her head, she could feel him shake his head. "Don't apologize," he replied, fingers now playing with her hair. Valerie made no efforts to pull away, nor did he. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

     She thought for a moment, the mere though of everything once again causing her eyes to tear up.

     Noticing her hesitation, he frowned deeply: fury still ripping apart his conscience. "I can see that bruise, Val. Someone hurt you."

     "I'm okay," she replied: feeling her chest quiver as she tried to suffocate a sob and keep it from breaking past her lips.

     He could feel the way her body was trembling with fear, and he could hear every ounce of pain lacing her tone, and a moment passed before he exhaled a breath — hugging her a little tighter before staring the obvious and disagreeing. "No, you're not."

     No, she wasn't.

. . . . .