Depths of Despair ✶ Theodore Nott

fifty six, out of options

As she grew older, Valerie had become wary of how quickly time would pass by. She sometimes reminisced upon her first years of Hogwarts — having been blissful over the fresh start she'd been offered, having not yet realised the dangers residing within her childhood home fated to come back and haunt her.

With age came responsibility — that along with the requirement to make decisions. The summer had brought on a dilemma, and Valerie knew she had decided on the wrong way out. So wrong, in fact, that she had balanced herself on the ledge of ruin, having just barely made it back to solid ground before losing herself entirely.

Weeks passed after having been saved from drowning, and the relief of having pressure lifted off her shoulders proved itself distracting. Theodore had insisted she took a few days off.

He'd refused to help her train her legilimency, demanded that she took a break. "Just give yourself three days, okay?" he'd argued, and Valerie had surprised herself by agreeing.

Well, the life of a relatively normal teenage girl — no constantly looming regret, no plotting to gain the Dark Lord advance in a war brewing outside the castle walls — was addictive. Days turned into weeks, and suddenly the ground was covered with snow, and suddenly it was Theodore who advocated that she'd work on a game plan.

Valerie had argued against it many times, for she was burnt out, having no energy to devote herself to the very cause that almost broke her entirely. But Theodore was worried for her, and one day her owl sailed through the Great Hall and dropped a letter down before her, proving his point.

"Merlin," was the first thing exiting past Valerie's lips when registering the handwriting, and just like that all the conversation amongst her friends stopped.

It was like a bucket full off ice had been dumped over her head, but as eyes turned toward her — her friends taking notice to the rather despaired look on her face — Valerie quickly covered it up.

"What is it?" asked Kieran, quick to grow concerned. Valerie met his gaze, forcing a smile.

"Nothing. It's fine." He did not believe her, but as he parted his lips to argue, Valerie sent him a warning glance. She would tell him later — buy herself some time to come up with an explanation that was not a complete lie.

She was tired of lying.

Kieran understood, quickly nodded. Sensing she wanted the attention off of herself, he initiated conversation, Draco, Blaise and Pansy distracted — Valerie hence free to pry the letter open without eyes observing her every move.

One pair still lingered however, and it only took a second before Theodore had dissolved his mental shields and allowed her access to his thoughts. 'Your mother?' he asked.

'Yes.'

Her whole body froze up at the words revealed as she unfolded the parchment. Shit.

She forced her eyes off her mother's handwriting, and met with Theodore's instead. He overlooked her features for a few seconds — frowning at her reluctance to offer him an explanation. Then he reached his hand out, asking for permission.

It was granted by a half-smile on Valerie's part, and so the letter was softly removed from her hands. She sat silent as he read it, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in the message.