Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

forty two. fear leads to suffering

Theodore,

Refined penmanship scattered across fine parchment, Valerie sought through her mind for plausible words to stitch into the web of lies to which she'd already restrained herself — intent on causing no disruptions, to not further fuel his concern or his suspicions.

I assure you, I am fine for the moment. My mother is uttermost unpleasant, but has been keeping up her composure relatively well.

It was no easy task, for Theodore Nott was hard to convince. Critical thinking was second nature to him, determination levels off the charts were you to give him any reason to set his mind on something.

I still have not figured out the reason she wanted me home. I can only assume it has to do with her irritating need to be in control.

Lies, lies, lies, but Valerie could not near the concept of honesty if wanting to stay clear of a guilty conscience. He could not know every detail — not this time.

I will see you when we get back to school, unless you wish to meet up on an earlier occasion to catch up. I don't want you worrying about me, please believe me, I am okay.

Valerie.

She had never before felt remorse at a sealed letter sent off with her owl into the night, but when watching the wings of Onyx disappear from sight, Valerie experienced genuine nausea. She knew not when she had lost her sanity enough to lie so easily to the people she cared about, however somewhere along the road something had gone wrong — something had set her mind and her morals askew.

Placing down her quill and sealing her jar of ink, she leaned back in her chair: taking a moment to breathe.

The response to Theodore's letter was the last on her to-do list before committing to something horrible, before ridding herself of whatever pride she considered herself in possession off. First there had been Kieran, who's concerns she had settled by meeting up with him for a walk earlier that same day. Her father, she had also written a letter in which she lied too easily and too much. They could not know, even though her heart cried, begged, pleaded: body overthrown with unwillingness whenever pondering too long upon what she was about to do — what truly was to go down — yet her mind recalled the consequences of defiance.

Follow orders, and no one gets hurt. Break the rules, and face the consequences.

"I expect you to join us in the dining hall at 7 today," her mother's voice echoed through Valerie's recollection. "You will do so without any fuss, and I expect you to behave. If not, well, it would be a shame if poor Theodore, or perhaps even Kieran Lacroix, would need to take the consequences."

Valerie had pledged at a young age that she would never, ever, follow in her mother's footsteps. Never behave like her, never look like her, never be like her. Of course, at the time she had not known the specifics of Olenna's cruel ways, nor had she known about the dark shapes burned into her mother's left forearm. But either way, it had been her younger self's worst nightmare to ever take any resemblance to the person she claimed to hate most of all in the world, and Valerie was in present time ashamed to have let herself down.

To have let herself be blackmailed was the first of many mistakes, and now she was fated to commit the biggest crime of all without being able to do anything to prevent it. She wondered what people would think of her afterwards — her father, Kieran, Theodore...

What would she think of herself?

Footsteps neared from outside her bedroom, raising a hand to gently knock before pushing the door open. "Valerie?" The voice was soft, almost sympathetic, and Valerie could tell at an instant that it was not her mother who had gone to retrieve her. Turning around, the fourteen-year-old was surprised to see Narcissa Malfoy stood before her — kind eyes meeting with Valerie's, guilt written across the woman's features.

She knew what was about to happen, and Valerie could tell she pitied her.

"I was told to come here and escort you down to the dining hall," she woman revealed, and Valerie swallowed down the lump in her throat, stubbornly blinking away the tears welling up by her waterline.

Terror was all she felt pulsing through her body. Hands trembling, heart pounding, breath hitching. Shame on you, her past self whispered as she was about to betray her own promises. It's all your fault, her future self shrieked when images of Kieran and Theodore and her father laying lifeless before her eyes flashed through her mind. Valerie had to choke down a sob when pushing herself out of her chair, freezing for a moment as her limbs appeared to be refusing any further movement.

She looked up at Narcissa, and within seconds the woman stood right before her: a gentle hand placed on her shoulder. "I— I don't want to do this," the teenager spoke in a broken whisper, a single tear breaking free from her widened eyes.

"I know," Narcissa Malfoy replied. After some hesitation she softly wrapped the young girl in a hug, running a hand up and down Valerie's back. She always held a certain kind of hostility toward children unwillingly being dragged into the midsts of their parents' conflicts, and right now a fourteen-year-old was about to be robbed of the concept of free choice.

After reinforcing her composure, Valerie smiled at the woman and pulled away. "Thank you," she whispered, and although still trembling she knew time was ticking on with dangerous speed — the minutes left to 7 being unsettlingly few. Should she be late, her mother certainly would not look upon the matter lightly, hence why Valerie forced her legs into movement. "Better to get it over with," she muttered to herself.

"You shouldn't have to," Narcissa whispered low enough so that Valerie could not hear, however sighed deeply and followed the teenager down the staircase of the intimidatingly large mansion.

Not until reaching the doors to the dining hall did Valerie halter in her step. Her mother was quickly there, exchanging a look with Narcissa — thanking her for the favor of bringing her daughter downstairs — before grabbing a hold of Valerie's arm, leading her inside.

Previous conversation silenced, and curious eyes trailed upon the mother and daughter: their footsteps sounding through the room as they walked the trail between the doors and the very front, where a figure sat in a high chair.

Valerie had previously not gathered the amount of people who now sat within their dining quarters, however she avoided eye contact with each and every single one of them — partly wishing not to be recognized, partly wishing not to recognize any of them. She was positive many of the people circling around her were the parents of her friends and acquainted, hence why she truly wished not to look either one of them in the eye.

"My lord," spoke Olenna Leclere a moment after stopping at a respectful distance from the man sat in the front, bowing her head and urging Valerie to — unwillingly — do the same. "May I present you to my daughter, Valerie?"

Red eyes suddenly burned Valerie's very being, the teenager feeling the walls of her mind being poked: almost as if taunting her. A pinch in her side reminded her of manners, and after making sure no fear was visible across her expression and after reinforcing her mental shields to let not a single thought slip past her barriers, she lifted her head from the floor and met the eyes of the man she had every reason to despise.

Lord Voldemort had been dead, and she very much blamed him for not remaining that way. It was his fault: everything was. Her mother reaching out again, her friends being threatened, Cedric Diggory being murdered, Harry witnessing the deed, Valerie herself being forced into cruelty she wished no part of.

Although tempted to grasp a hold of her wand and throw at him the very curse he had once directed onto her half-brother, she remembered everything at stake and restrained her impulses. Bowing her head, hands behind her back, she unclenched her jaw to force the very words she knew was expected of her off her tongue. "... My lord."

And so Lord Voldemort nodded, looking down at the teenager holding so much potential with a smirk widened across his lips. "Valerie Leclere. I have heard a lot about you."

And his interest in her abilities truly was the final straw to what Valerie assumed was her ultimate fall from grace.

. . . . .