Starry Serendipity || R.A.B

20. Valerie and home

December 1975

The platform is bustling with excitement as students gather to board the Hogwarts Express. I make my way through the crowd, feeling a mix of anticipation and a hint of sadness. Christmas vacations are here, and while I'm looking forward to spending time with my family, there's a sense of familiarity and comfort that Hogwarts provides.

I spot the marauders ahead, their heads towering above the crowd. James is talking animatedly about Quidditch, Sirius is flirting with a group of giggling girls, and Peter is eagerly nodding along to every word James says. Remus, the calm and collected one, seems to be observing the scene with an amused smile. I can't help but feel a sense of warmth as I approach them.

"Hey, guys!" I greet them with a grin, my voice barely audible over the noise of the platform.

"Val!" James exclaims, clapping me on the back. "Ready for a fun train ride?"

I chuckle, adjusting the strap of my bag. "Always."

As we make our way onto the train, I notice that Eveline and Pandora are not with us. It's unusual, considering we usually stick together. I found myself sharing a glance with Pandora earlier, and her secretive expression gave me a hint that something might have be off.

"Where are Eve and Dora?" I ask, trying to sound casual. They told us a few days ago that they would've hung with us in the train.

Remus shrugs, exchanging a quick look with Sirius. "They decided to stay back home for the holidays."

I raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit concerned. "Why? I thought they'd be joining us."

Sirius leans in, his voice lowered. "They didn't exactly tell us, but I think they're having some family issues. You know how it is, especially with pure-blood families."

My heart sinks as I think about the struggles that both Eveline and Pandora face at home due to their family backgrounds. It's a reminder that not everyone has a warm and welcoming family environment, even in the magical world.

"I hope they're okay," I murmur, my worry evident.

"They're tough cookies," Peter chimes in, trying to lighten the mood. "They'll be fine."

As we settle into our compartment, I can't help but reflect on the complexities of the holiday season. While I'm excited to be with my family, I'm also aware that for some, this time of year can be challenging.

The rhythmic sound of the train's wheels against the tracks fills the compartment as the marauders continue their animated conversation. I lean back against the seat, finding the soothing cadence oddly comforting. The gentle swaying of the train lulls me into a sense of peace, and before I know it, my eyes begin to droop.

As I drift into sleep, my mind takes me to a place of shadows and echoes.

In the depths of my nightmare, I find myself in a realm of darkness and confusion. Faces and voices blend into a nightmarish haze, unrecognizable and haunting. Fear wraps around me like a suffocating shroud, constricting my chest and making every breath a struggle. I stand frozen, a silent observer of the unfolding tragedy.

A figure emerges from the shadows, its features obscured by the dark. Dread pools in the pit of my stomach as a chilling realization washes over me. I can't move, can't look away as a cold, malevolent voice murmurs incantations that slice through the air like shards of ice.

And then it happens—the sickly green light, vivid against the darkness. It's a light that heralds death, that carries with it a finality that can't be undone. The figure before me crumples, the shadows swallowing it up. The echo of a scream—my own?—reverberates in my ears, merging with the distant howls of the wind.