Starry Serendipity || R.A.B

34. Valerie and gossip

February 1976

Stepping into the Great Hall, the usual buzz of conversations and clinking of utensils against plates washes over me. It's as if every sound is amplified, each voice a distinct note in a cacophonous symphony. My heart races as I navigate the space, acutely aware of the curious glances and hushed whispers that follow me. I try to ignore them and continue walking.

With each step, the weight of the stares becomes palpable, a heavy cloak that I have to shake off. I tighten my grip on my cloak, the familiar sensation grounding me as I search for an empty spot at the Gryffindor table. A small gap near the end catches my eye, and I slip into it, settling into the wooden bench.

I try to focus on the routine of the breakfast spread before me: the warm scent of toast, the clatter of cutlery, the colorful array of fruits and pastries. I select a piece of toast and begin to butter it, my movements deliberate as I engage my senses in the act of preparation. The simple task offers a momentary reprieve, a way to center myself amidst the sensory overload.

However, as I take a bite of the toast, the taste is overshadowed by the barrage of thoughts and emotions that filter into my consciousness. The conversations around me become a swirling mass of noise, each voice vying for attention. It's like trying to focus on a single star in a sky full of them.

Determined to regain control, I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath. I picture a calm and tranquil place in my mind – a meadow bathed in sunlight, a soft breeze rustling through the grass. Slowly, I let my senses settle, focusing on the imagined serenity rather than the chaos around me.

The Great Hall is abuzz with activity as students mill about, finding their seats and chatting animatedly. My heart races as I spot James storming in, his eyes blazing with fury and concern. Panic washes over me, but there's no time to evade his gaze as he strides purposefully toward me.

"Valerie, what the bloody hell happened last night?" His voice cuts through the noise around us, and I feel as though a spotlight has been cast upon me. I instinctively take a step back, my fingers clutching the edge of the table for support. But James's momentum propels him forward, and he's before me in an instant, his anger palpable.

"I can explain," I manage to say, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I try to maintain eye contact with James, ignoring the curious stares of our peers. I launch into a calm and measured explanation, my words a plea for understanding in the midst of my own discomfort.

But James's eyes are ablaze with fury, his nostrils flaring as he clenches his fists at his sides. My explanation seems to fall upon deaf ears as his voice grows louder and more incensed, accusations pouring from him like fire. The knowledge that my power is amplifying every word he utters only fuels my distress.

"You were out there with Black, weren't you?" His voice slices through the air, each word a dagger that pierces my already rattled composure. The surrounding students begin to shift their attention from their breakfast to the growing confrontation before them.

As his anger escalates, I sense the approach of Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Their concerned expressions are painted across their faces like a mirror of my own emotions. But their attempts to defuse the situation seem to bounce off James's fury, his focus solely on me.

"Prongs, calm down," Sirius's voice is measured, an attempt at reason in the midst of chaos.

"You need to hear her side of the story," Remus adds, his voice steady and soothing.

"Yelling at her won't help anything," Peter chimes in, his tone a mix of apprehension and concern.

But James's anger appears unrelenting, his accusations coming at me like a barrage of arrows. The weight of my power adds an unbearable layer to this situation, the words of my peers a cacophony that drowns out all else. The room around us blurs as I struggle to hold back the overwhelming tide of emotions.