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Freya by Hiduras

Format: Novella
Chapters: 10
Word Count: 19,075
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Action, General, Mystery, Drama
Characters: Draco, Ginny, Harry, Dumbledore, Hermione, OC, Remus Lupin, Ron, Snape, Voldemort, Luna, M. McGonagall
Pairings:

First Published: 04/10/2005
Last Chapter: 01/21/2006
Last Updated: 01/22/2006

Summary:
thanks to Jenova for the wonderful banner
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Witches and Wizards haven't always been born; at least, not in the typical sense of the word. There was once a time when the magically inclined were created solely by the gift they possess. These mistical beings could not only use magic, they could see it in everything they touched; feel it in every move they made. Freya Keen knew this, but what did it have to do with her?


Chapter 1: A New Beginning
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‘How is it possible to yet again get a compartment all to myself?’ Freya Keen thought bitterly as she looked out on platform 9 ¾. Most kids in their fifth year were roaming the hallway searching for their friends. Nobody would enter this compartment.

As the train started moving, she looked longingly at the parents waving to their children, yelling their last-minute advice as the train moved out of Kings Cross. If only her parents could have been there as well! But it was hard enough to get permission for a Portkey for her all the way from Denmark, let alone for three people. She wasn’t a little kid anymore, and in her third year at Hogwarts the Danish Ministry of Magic had decided that she was old enough to travel alone. And she was, but she still missed them. It wasn’t like she could see them during the holidays, either; she always stayed at Hogwarts, and this year would be no different.

Her eyes wandered around the empty compartment; aside from her the only living creature was her dog, Thor. Dogs weren’t seen as magical beings in the UK but in Scandinavia it was a really common pet. She had gotten permission to bring him along as long as he didn’t cause any trouble. He was a Golden Retriever and a really beautiful one at that. His fur was a mixture between red and golden brown and he was very smart. In Denmark they always used dogs for short distance mail because magical dogs, or Hunds, could move very fast and in doing so they were invisible to muggles. They were also incredibly strong and could carry the weight of two fully grown wizards.

Although she had always attended Hogwarts, she had constantly felt a little out of place. As far as she knew, she was the only one attending who didn’t live in the UK. Her mother was British and they had therefore decided that she should attend school here. There was a school for Scandinavian children somewhere in Sweden but it wasn’t nearly as good as Hogwarts.

As the train moved along she fell into a light slumber but was jerked out of sleep when the door crashing open signaled someone entering her compartment. She looked up and saw a black haired boy with round glasses and a lightning bold scar on his forehead. Harry Potter’s emerald green eyes looked at her.

“Uh…. can I sit here?” He looked down at his hands waiting for an answer.

“Sure.” She looked at him a bit baffled; he had a lot of friends, why was he coming in here all alone? She wasn’t complaining though; a little company would be nice for a change.

“What’s your name?” he asked sitting down across from her.

“ Freya Keen…”

“I haven’t seen you before, are you a 6th year?”

“5th year Hufflepuff. I know who you are though….” She could have hit herself, that was probably the last thing he wanted to hear. “You should know that I’m not a 6th year, I mean we would have had some classes together.” she added hoping to change the subject.

“You’ve got a point there… so why are you sitting here alone?”

“Well… um…” This was just perfect; who would want to talk to someone without any friends? ”I always sit alone,” she shrugged.

“Well, I’m glad to be the one to break the habit then.” He smiled.

She didn’t know what to say and just began petting Thor.

He smiled again. “Is that a dog?”

“Yeah this is Thor… Harry Potter, meet Thor Keen.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were allowed to bring dogs to Hogwarts,” he said, clearly looking impressed.

“Yeah, well, I got special permission…”

“Cool.”

“So Harry, how come you’re here all alone?” She wasn’t sure he would answer but after all, she had answered him.

“Well, my two best friends Hermione and Ron are both prefects, and I just wasn’t in the mood to sit with the others from my year… Last year I sat with Ginny, but she made prefect this year so…”

“Oh, I see. Well, I’m glad you’re not a prefect then.”

They spent an hour just talking about Thor, Denmark and everything else. Freya told him about her friends back in Denmark. She lived with her parents in a nice suburb outside Copenhagen. It was a neighborhood mixed with muggles and magicians. Actually, she hadn’t remained friends with a lot of people after they all continued school in Denmark and she went to the UK. Her neighbor, Astrid Bruun, was the only one she kept a bit of contact with. She was surprised at his interest, but welcomed it gladly. Just as the conversation switched over to Harry, the door of their compartment opened.

“Harry! We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Freya looked up and saw a pretty brown haired girl closely followed be a tall guy with flaming red hair. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had just walked in. ‘Great’ she thought, while preparing herself to sit alone for the rest of the journey. To her surprise they sat down next to Harry (beside her Thor was sleeping comfortably) and joined the conversation.

“This,” Harry said waving his hand at her, ”is Freya Keen.”

****A big thanks to my beta Finchy, you have been a big help!****

Chapter 2: Love and War.
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Well here is the 2nd chapter. For the first time in my life I am writing something that is available for anyone to read… and I am doing it in English.
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When Freya awoke the next morning, she was convinced yesterday had all been a dream, from the moment she'd stepped onto the Hogwarts train, right up to now. She barely remembered anything of the start of term meal or Dumbledore's speech; but one thing she did remember was his lack of introducing a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. She found that really odd.

Sure that she was going to sit alone at the end of the Hufflepuff table as she always did, she wasn’t too eager to get out of bed. She supposed she didn’t really have to get up, seeing as it was Sunday, but she didn’t want to miss breakfast. The other girls in her dorm were still asleep which suited her just fine.

When she'd finished brushing her teeth and putting on her robes, she looked in the mirror.
“Hmm… not bad,” she mused to herself. Her messy dark brown hair reached down to her breasts and complimented her forest green eyes quite well. She decided against make-up, since nobody would notice but herself not that she cared.

As she stood there, she tried to recall the details of the 'dream' she'd had. During her chat with Harry, Hermione and Ron had entered the compartment and the conversation. After about half an hour Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood had joined them, both 5th years like herself, but in Gryffindor and Rawenclaw respectively. They'd all had a great time talking about everything from Quidditch to possible candidates for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

“You’re pathetic,” she whispered to her own reflection. Why was she holding on to a silly dream? If she could just get through the rest of the weekend, then classes would start and she would have something else to think about.

She was ripped out of her thoughts by a big black raven tapping its claws on the window. Thor jumped up happily, wagging his tail as he recognized the bird. It was her family's Raven, Mia. They had an owl too, but it couldn’t fly all the way to Britain; he was just too old. So, when Freya had been accepted into Hogwarts her parents had bought the raven. Mia had a letter and a package with her.

Freya opened the letter; it was from her mother.

Dear Freya,

I hope you arrived at Hogwarts safely.

Your father and I planned on giving you this before you left, but seeing as it didn't arrive until yesterday we decided to send Mia with it.

This gift will help you understand and deal with what is to come. If you have any questions at any time, send Mia. I think it would be best if you keep her with you at Hogwarts until such a time.

Jeg elsker dig*

Mum

Going over the letter again, her eyes stopped at the phrase, ‘help you understand and deal with what is to come’. Her mind went back to one specific conversation she'd with her parents, two weeks before she left.


Martin Keen looked at his daughter's sleeping form and smiled. She looked so peaceful. He made a small clicking noise with his tongue; she could sleep through war and thunder, but when he made that sound she would wake up instantly.

“Dad.” Freya turned as she woke, looking at her father.

“Your mother and I need to talk to you, don't be too long darling.”

“Coming,” she said as he left. She tumbled out of bed.

Pulling her sweats on, she hurried down to the kitchen, one slipper on her foot and the other in her hand. This sounded serious.

"…It’s difficult Fiona, but she's turning 16 in a couple of months. By then, she'll have to know. You don’t want to tell her in a letter, do you?”

“No, I just…”

Freya's mother was interrupted by her daughter walking in.

“What’s going on?” She grabbed a piece of toast and nibbled on it half-heartedly as she sat down next to her father.

Her mother opened her mouth to answer, but her father beat her to it. “No, please Fiona, let me,” he said as he stood up. He looked down at Freya.“You see you are…” he began, but seemed to change his mind about his approach.

He started pacing. “Your mother and I told you a long time ago that the reason why we called you Freya was because of your ancestors…my ancestors. Well, the thing is, in my family there hasn’t been a girl born in almost a hundred years.”

He didn’t stop his pacing as he went on. “Your great, great, who knows how many 'greats', grandmother predicted, or more precisely cast a spell, that the first female to be born to a direct descendant of hers would inherit her… gifts.” He finally stopped pacing and looked straight at her.

“I don’t understand, I don’t have any ‘gifts’.” Freya was beginning to feel a little uneasy with this whole conversation. "Who was she?"

"Muggles believed her to be the northern goddess, Freja. In fact, she was an extraordinarily talented witch. Back then there were no witches or wizards as we know them today. According to legend, the first witches and wizards were not born like humans normally are. These witches and wizards were created using pure magic and were able to see magic all around them, and thereby they were able to communicate with everything touched by magic.”

“Do you mean like wandless magic?” Freya asked, hoping to bring the conversation down to a level she could comprehend.

“No, a wand orders the magic. These people learned the nature of magic and how to work with it. Each of these pure, or original, witches and wizards specialized in different things and were thereby mistaken for gods by the muggle world.” Her father looked at her sadly and sat down.

She was stunned. Even though she didn't fully understand what this meant for her, she didn't ask any more questions. She simply went back up to her room, toast in one hand and the slipper she never put on in the other.

Freya turned her attention to the brown paper package from her parents: it was a book.

Northern Mythology: Freja
WAR and LOVE

On the cover of the book was a little note from her father.

Read this book carefully, it will tell you everything you need to know. Your grandfather told me about it when we found out you were a girl. He has been keeping it safe until now. When you have read it through, go to Professor Dumbledore. I have arranged for him to help you.

Love, Dad

She decided to begin reading it when she'd had something to eat. All of her roommates were up and about now, so she hid the book in her trunk and headed down to the Great Hall for yet another meal alone.

When she reached the doors she heard someone yelling her name.

“Freya! Freya, wait up!”

She turned around and saw a mass of red hair coming towards her.

“Where were you going? We were supposed to meet outside the Great Hall, remember…?” Ginny Weasley took her by the arm and dragged her to the Gryffindor table.

“Hey, did you fall in to the loo this morning… we’ve been waiting for you for half an hour.” Ron grinned at her.

Freya looked at all of them laughing…It wasn’t a dream, it really wasn’t a dream!

*a/n 'I love you' in Danish

a/n **** A big thank you to my betas Jenova and Finchy It has gotten much better!!!*****


Chapter 3: What Is To Come.
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Here is the third chapter… and a thank you must go out to those who have reviewed! I really take the things you say seriusly. I helps alot... Well enjoy the read!
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The first weeks of school went by in a blur. She couldn’t remember ever being so excited to go to a Potions class. Hufflepuff had that lesson with Rawenclaw and she sat with Luna. She was kind of a loner too, so she gladly welcomed the company. The other girls from Hufflepuff had started treating her differently, not great, but they didn't ignore her completly anymore. She wished that she didn't care about it but she knew that they only talked to her because she was hanging out with Harry Potter from time to time. They were so shallow. Memories of last year always popped into her head. Every single one of those girls had thought him to be a raving lunatic because of the whole Voldemort thing, but now they were back to “Harry Potter is so great”, “Harry Potter is so brave”. It was pathetic.

The only classes she didn’t enjoy were the ones she shared with the Slytherins. True, they weren’t nearly as bad to the Hufflepuffs as to the Gryffindors, if what Ginny had told her was anything to go by. But more than half the students in Hufflepuff were muggleborns and that always created a bad mood. These classes were also the only ones Ginny or Luna didn’t share with her and that didn’t make things any better.

In the third week of school, on a particularly grey Wednesday morning, Freya was heading for the Transfiguration classroom for yet another class with Slytherin. As the first one there, she sat down in the front and hoped that no one would take the seat next to her. She had no such luck.

“This seat taken?”

Freya looked up at the Slytherin boy asking the question and was about to claim that she was saving the seat for someone. But as she couldn't think of anyone she could be saving the seat for, she just shrugged and watched him sit down.

“So…um…what’s your name? Something Keen right?” he asked her, apparently trying to initiate some sort of conversation.

“Yeah, it’s Freya,” she answered, a bit surprised at his interest. “You?”

“I’m Eliot…Eliot Zabini.”

For the next 10 minutes they just talked, and didn’t even notice when McGonagall walked in.

When class ended she found herself wishing it hadn't. Not that the class had been anything special...they had turned rats into quaffles...but she'd had the best time with Eliot.

For some reason she decided against telling Ginny about Eliot when they had Herbology together later that day. She knew how Gryffindors felt about the Slytherins and didn’t want to get into a huge discussion about it. The fact of the matter was that even though she liked Eliot, she had only spoken to him for an hour or so. She wasn’t ready to defend him just yet. Another reason was that although she really liked Ginny and the rest of the gang, she wasn’t a part of their inner circle yet. Having someone to hang out with was great, but she wasn’t ready to share everything with people who hadn’t even noticed her for 4 years.
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The following Saturday, before she went to bed, she eventually opened the book her parents had sent her. It wasn’t that thick, about 100 pages. It was a deep crimson colour and about 20cm high and 15cm wide. There were no chapters, only the title in green on the cover and again on the first page. She read the book cover to cover that night, unable to let it go.

Freya was scared, no she was beyond scared she was absolutely terrified. Everything the book said about her abilities made her want to jump out the window and end her misery right there and then. The fact that she didn’t understand half of the things she read didn’t make her feel any better.

She remembered that her father had said to go to Dumbledore when she'd read the book. She was about to go and see him right that instant, when she realised that it was nearly 3 am. Instead she placed the book safely back in the bottom of her trunk, and crawled under her covers where she quickly fell asleep.

Freya was standing in a dark room, lit only by a few floating candles. In the middle of the circular room was a small mahogany table. She edged closer to the table, not sure what to make of it. Her crimson book lay on top of it. She stopped but alarmingly the table kept coming closer. When the table reached her, a beautiful calm voice filled the room.

“Open it, in here you will see.”

“Wh-who are you?” Freya couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.

“Is that important? I am here to help you, that is all you need to know… now, open it.”

Before Freya realised what was happening, her hand was reaching to open the book. The sight that met her was unbelievable. It wasn’t filled with words and confusing explanations anymore. All she saw were masses of colours mixing and separating, never staying still.

“What is this?” she asked, breathlessly. Her heart pounded with an excitement she didn’t understand.

“How old are you my dear?” The mystery voice asked, ignoring her question.

“I asked you first...” Freya stated becoming agitated.

“Your question is linked to mine. Please, just answer.”

“15…” she answered, impatiently waiting for an explanation.

“I see. We will speak again when the time is right.”

And with that the room, the book, the table and the candles all disappeared.
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The next morning Freya woke up thinking of her dream, getting more and more annoyed by the minute. She had learned long ago that dreams always meant something, but this one was different to her regular dreams. She knew it. Deep down she knew that the conversation she'd had with “the voice” was real. Now it was imperative that she talk to Dumbledore, but she decided to wait until after breakfast.

When she entered the Great Hall, the only person she knew sitting at the Gryffindor table was Harry. She hadn’t talked to him alone since the first day on the train. She normally hung out with Ginny and Luna and sometimes that included Ron, Hermione and Harry. She sat down opposite him and looked at him poking his food with his fork.

“Something wrong?” she asked, even though she knew that he probably wouldn’t tell her if there was.

“Just tired,” he answered.

“Yeah me too, slept horribly.” Freya answered truthfully.

“I know what you mean. I haven’t had a decent night's sleep since Si…” he stopped in mid sentence, obviously not wanting to finish it. “…since forever it seems.”

“I can imagine. I mean with You Know Who back and all. It affects you more than everyone else.”

“Yeah.”

She could tell that he wasn't in the mood for talking, at least not to her, so she kept quiet. He could speak first if he wanted to.

"Do you know why we don't have a DADA teacher yet?" he asked after a couple of minutes silence.

"No, but I suppose..." Freya looked up from the table while she was talking and noticed Dumbledore had finished eating and was heading to the door. She figured now was as good a time as any to talk to him. She excused herself from the table, leaving a confused Harry behind, and headed after Dumbledore...

a/n **** A big thank you to my beta Jenova…. It has gotten much better!!!*****


Hope you liked this chapter… please don’t hesitate to give constructive criticism! (…)

-Hiduras


Chapter 4: You Have the Right to Remain Silent.
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Freya caught up with Dumbledore just outside his office.

"Professor Dumbledore, I need to talk to you…sir." She deliberately added the ‘sir’ part, just a little too late, she didn’t want him to think that she was trying to boss him around.

"Yes, your father informed me of the situation. Join me in my office…miss," he said, with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

Freya was amazed when she entered the headmasters office, she’d never been there before. In her imagination it had been filled with shelves of thick books from floor to ceiling, with school rules and regulations hanging on the walls. It was nothing like that. The office reminded her of her grandfather’s study, cosy with a homey feel to it. It made her wonder if Dumbledore lived there all year long. Probably not, he had to have a proper home for the holidays surely? And last year he wasn’t even at Hogwarts for the time during Umbridge’s reign of chaos. She couldn’t imagine him living on the streets of Hogsmeade!

Looking around the office she began to wonder if Dumbledore was a grandfather himself. He looked like one. Freya hadn’t even noticed that she was staring at the headmaster until he spoke.

"Miss Keen, I don’t know how much you know. Admittedly, I don’t know everything myself."
He sat down behind his desk. "Please, take a seat." Dumbledore gestured towards the chair opposite him.

Freya sat down, feeling very uncomfortable. Not that the chair was bad, she just felt like she had done something wrong.
In her four years at Hogwarts she had only once had detention. In her second year she had accidentally started a fire in her first Potions class. They were repeating some things they’d learned in the first year, including a simple calming potion. She’d done it all wrong and when she’d had to taste it, she’d thrown up all over her cauldron. Apparently body fluids and incorrectly concocted calming potion weren’t the best combination to set on fire.
Snape had threatened her with sending her to the headmaster’s office, but ended up just giving her detention. After that she’d always thought that the Headmaster’s office had to be a worse experience than detention with Snape.
So she was in fact very uncomfortable.

Dumbledore began to speak and she snapped back to the present.

"Firstly I need to know what was written in the book." He looked at her seriously, and waited for her answer.

"You haven’t read it?" She asked, immediately regretting it, seeing as it could sound accusing. "I’m sorry sir, I just…" She stopped in mid-sentence as he chuckled. "What?" Her puzzled expression only made him chuckle more.

"No, I haven’t read it, and you really don’t have to be sorry. I’m not," he said, confusing her further. She was beginning to wonder if he was a little crazy.

Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes, and Freya suddenly remembered that he had asked her a question. She pondered a little over her answer an began to speak.

"Well, the thing is Professor, I didn’t understand most of it..." She looked at her feet, not wanting him to see her embarrassment at having to admit her weakness.

"That’s quite alright Miss Keen, I honestly didn’t expect you to. Just tell me what you did understand." He smiled encouragingly at her, and she felt a lot calmer. How could she have thought him crazy just two minutes ago?

"All in all, I gathered that at some point in the near future," (she hadn’t actually read that it would be soon, but there had to be a reason for all this happening now) "I will get some new abilities or ‘gifts’" The word gifts was almost drowned by the sarcasm in her voice. "Love and War seemed to be the two things that drove Freja, and that it will be the same for me."

She paused looking at the Headmaster for some reaction. When it didn’t come, she continued. "You see, when my father told me about all of this, he mentioned something about seeing magic all around us… that was what Freja could do. The book also mentioned something like that, but it was all so technical. I almost didn't understand anything." Her voice was suddenly little more than a whisper and she began feeling very embarrassed again. She’d had a whole night to read 100 pages, and she didn't even understand what they had revealed to her.

Dumbledore began speaking in a reassuring voice.

"Unlike your ancestor, you will not be able to communicate with all magic. Only what she prided herself most in, and was highest skilled at, was she able to pass on to you. War and Love, as you correctly identified."

"But what has war got to do with me? It doesn't make any sense." Freya was even more confused now than when she had entered the Headmasters office. Nothing seemed to be helping.

"That is where you are mistaken, my child." The twinkle was apparent in his eyes again. "War is not just an act, a concept that for many is hard to comprehend. Love is no easier. Love, too, is a term to express a concept that, much like war, is hard to grasp. Freja prided herself in learning about those two forces. Magic within her, and around her, helped her to read signs of both war and love. If she looked people in the eyes and they possessed great deals of either one of these forces she would see it, another great gift."

Dumbledore waited a moment, letting all the information sink in before he continued.
"The thing that most people think about when they hear the word war, is the act of war. But when we think of love, a lot of emotions, images and unexplainable feelings come to mind. Not simply the act of love."
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The conversation between the two of them continued for a couple of hours and when Freya left around noon and headed for her dorm she was a little more at ease with the situation. Dumbledore had explained to her that not all wars were fought with wands, some were battles of words and some were even battles of love.

Apparently the whole thing would become relevant to her when she turned 16, and she’d agreed that she would meet Dumbledore on her birthday to discuss everything further. She wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. They had covered what she would be able to do once she’d become accustomed to her new powers. But what was actually going to happen on that day? Dumbledore had only said that the acquisition of powers was different for everyone. Would she just wake up and they’d be there? Suddenly November 26th seemed only a day away.
She reached the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room and muttered the password, ‘Beans’, to the kind old statue of William Warm-hart. When she reached her room, Thor was waiting for her, ready for his afternoon walk. Freya didn’t even try to argue with him, sometimes he seemed to know exactly what she wanted. Even though she didn’t.

They walked around the castle grounds and she silently thanked Dumbledore for giving her the rest of the day off. She played with Thor for about an hour, before she sat down by the lake and watched him jumping around in the water.
She didn’t notice the figure coming up behind her.

"Shouldn’t you be in class Miss…er...?"

"Keen," she answered, as she turned around to look at the person addressing her.

The man standing in front of her looked slightly familiar, although she couldn’t figure out exactly why. He was black and his hair was in long dreadlocks held together in a loose ponytail. At the looks of him he wasn’t that old, maybe 25 if Freya had to guess. His ropes were royal blue, and he looked like somebody who could give Gilderoy Lockhart a run for his money with the smile he flashed at Freya as she studied his appearance.

"Well?"

"Professor Dumbledore gave me the day off…for uh...personal reasons." She didn’t know why she felt the need to defend herself to him. "Who are you? I haven’t seen you around before." She thought it odd for a stranger to be wandering about Hogwarts on his own.

"I’ve been a student of this school for seven years," he responded firmly.

Freya found it hard to believe that he was only 17 years old, so she pressed the matter.
"But you aren’t a pupil now..." Freya stated persistently.

"You are perfectly right. It was actually ten years ago that I attended Hogwarts."

"But you…"

"I said that I’ve been a student of this school for seven years, and that is true."

Admitting defeat, Freya turned her attention to the other unsolved mystery.

"Who are you then?"

"I am Professor Jordan," he said, stretching out his hand.

Freya shook his hand as she said, "You aren’t Lee Jordans brother are you? You look a lot like him."

"That I am… What year are you in Miss Keen?" he asked, smiling.

"I’m a 5th year Hufflepuff. What will you be teach- You’re our new Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher aren’t you?!"

He chuckled at her outburst and nodded.

"Finally…! I’ve really missed those classes."

"Speaking of which," he said, his features becoming more serious. "I was on my way to see Professor Dumbledore about my lesson plan.” When he was almost out of hearing he turned around and said loudly, "I hope your ‘personal problem’ isn’t anything too serious, we wouldn’t want you to miss my first class."

A little while later she turned back towards the school, with Thor by her side, having sworn to herself that she would never tell anyone about this ‘gift’. It was her secret and she knew, deep inside, that most people would never understand.This was the reason why she’d never had any friends. Without any close friends, she had the right to remain silent.


***a/n I hope you liked this one, ‘cus i really do… a big thank you goes out to my beta Jenova!***br />


Chapter 5: Abrupt Departure.
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November was approaching rapidly.

All of the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons that they’d missed were soon caught up. Freya clearly recalled the first class with Professor Jordan. He had removed all the chairs and desks and the room had been plunged into darkness.


"Now I would like everyone to light their wands while I give instructions," he announced, and everybody did as he asked.

"Good. This exercise is simple. It is Slytherin against Hufflepuff. You are only allowed to fire one curse each. Hufflepuff will use the full body bind 'patrificus totalus', whilst Slytherin will use the stunning spell 'stupefy'. No one will use full strength. No one speaks. The house with the most people standing wins." He looked around to see if anyone had any questions. When no one raised their hand he ordered them to put out the lights of their wands.

"When I put out the light on my wand you may begin, but remember only one curse per student...”

“NOX!” he exclaimed loudly.

The cursing began at once. Freya dropped to the floor to avoid the initial volley of spells. When they started to tail off, she crawled in one direction until she reached the wall and stood up slowly. She could hear people moving around her but couldn't make out precisely how many. How was she even supposed to know if they were Slytherins or not? Her brain was working fast... how could she tell the difference? An idea popped in to her head. She coughed loudly, ducked and heard to her satisfaction a boy letting out a ‘Stupefy’ curse. She turned quickly and saw where the beam of light came from.

"Patrificus totalus" she yelled.

At that moment light filled the classroom once more. She looked around and saw herself and her fellow Hufflepuff, Juliette Stevens still standing. Well technically Juliette was squatting, but she hadn’t been hit by a curse.

Professor Jordan was freeing everyone else from their binds.

When everybody was seated back at their desks, Professor Jordan turned to Freya and Juliette. "Miss Stevens, Miss Keen, I would like you to tell the class what you two did to keep yourselves out of harms way." He smiled at them encouragingly.

"I kind of just, uh... sat down. Then someone stumbled over my foot and I stunned them," Juliette answered

"Not bad Miss Stevens, 10 points to Hufflepuff." He turned his attention to Freya, who was now feeling a bit more confident. "And you Miss Keen?"

"I crawled on my hands and knees to the wall to avoid the first wave of spells. Then I tried to find out who was still standing with me. I coughed, figuring if it was a Slytherin they might attack so I ducked out of the way and when they fired, I hit back."

"Very good miss Keen, 10 points to Hufflepuff." He looked around at all of the students "I want you all to write me an essay on this lesson. What could you have done to better your self? What did Miss Keen and Miss Stevens do right? What else could've been done? I expect the essay on my desk a week from today."


Freya had to admit that she’d never had a better Defence professor. He was professional and structured but he wasn't too strict either. She had mentioned this to Ginny when they were studying in the library. Apparently it wasn't a very popular opinion.

"Maybe he is quite capable, but he doesn't hold a candle to Professor Lupin" She sneered, a little short tempered.

Freya didn't agree, but she wasn't too eager to get into a big discussion about it. She shrugged and went back to her potion notes. Ginny, however, pressed on..

"We’ve only had Professor Jordan for a month.. You can not think that he is better than Professor Lupin based on such short time," she stated.

"Well," Freya began, as she could see no end to Ginny’s persistency. "I just think that Professor Jordan is a bit more structured, that's all."

"You know, structure isn't everything. Professor Lupin really understood us. He..."

"Ok Ginny, whatever..." Freya said cutting her off.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny asked in an offended tone.

"Don't get mad or anything ok?! To me it seems like your opinion is a little clouded, because you know him," Freya told her, trying not to sound accusing.

Ginny just stared at her for a minute, her face getting redder by the second. "Fine, if that's what you think, I’m not going to argue with you."

"I didn't ask you to." Freya was becoming a little annoyed herself.

"You know," Ginny got up from her seat abruptly. "I think I'm done with this. I have Quiddich practice in an hour anyway." She gathered her books and left the library.

Freya just sat there dumbstruck. How could Ginny get so worked up about a teacher? And what did it matter what Freya thought anyway. Even though she really liked Ginny, she found it irritating when she would only see things her own way. Sometimes that red hair and the associated temperament did her no favours.
_____________________________________________________________________________

As Halloween approached a notice was put up on the boards in the common rooms. It announced that the first Hogsmeade trip of the year would be on the day before the Halloween feast. Freya was really excited, even more so than the third years, who were going for the first time. The couple of times she had been to Hogsmeade hadn't been that great, mostly because she had been alone. Her mind momentarily drifted to Thor who would have to be left on his own all day, but she decided that she might ask Hagrid to look after him.

The main doors to Hogwarts was a popular meeting point. It took Freya a while before she spotted Luna sitting on the staircase seemingly trying to avoid the crowd. Freya dragged her up and they joined everyone else. Ginny wasn’t going with them, because she’d made plans with her boyfriend, Dean Thomas.

Luna and Freya had a great time looking through every single shop in Hogsmeade. Nearing the end of the day they headed for The Three Broomsticks, tired in mind and body, with bags full and pockets almost empty. Butterbeer was just what Freya needed before starting the walk back to the castle.

They’d just found a vacant table, put down their bags and were ready to order, when Luna jumped out of her chair, looking at something in the palm of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her bags. “Got to go!”

Freya looked at her, totally bewildered. “Wha…” she started, but Luna cut her off.

“I’m really sorry. See you tonight.” And with that she hurried out the door.

Glancing around the room, Freya couldn’t help but notice that Luna wasn’t the only one acting suspiciously. Dean and Ginny, who had been sitting at the far end of the room, were also leaving in a hurry and a couple of other students she didn’t know were looking just as baffled as she was.

For a brief moment she considered following them. It seemed urgent and maybe she could help in some way. But Luna had evidently not wanted her to come along. She knew when she wasn’t wanted. So she stayed where she was, alone, angry and confused.

After about 10 minutes of staring into space, Freya got up, deciding to head back. She bought a butterbeer, feeling it would be rude to leave without buying anything. With the butterbeer in one hand, and the day’s purchases in the other, she wandered back towards Hogwarts. As she walked, her mood gradually changed from angry to depressed. She couldn’t believe that Luna would just leave like that. Friends didn’t treat each other that way. Maybe that was the problem. Freya had fooled herself into thinking that in the last two months she had finally made some friends at Hogwarts. The fact of the matter was, they obviously didn’t trust her. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, she didn’t trust them. Not with everything anyway. But that wasn’t even what she was asking for. No one could expect to build complete trust in such a shot time. She just didn’t want to be left out of everything.
Sometimes when she joined them at the Gryffindor table, it was obvious that they changed the subject the moment they saw her. Most of the time she just brushed it aside, but it was clear that every single one in that group knew something she didn’t. And apparently they had all decided not to tell her. These were difficult times, she was aware of that, and she could understand why they didn’t just blurt out all their secrets. Voldemort’s supporters could be anywhere. But they could at least throw her a bone. Show her some good will. Show her that they were coming around. Perhaps that was the problem too. They had absolutely no intention of trusting her, ever. She was just a classmate.

The road back to Hogwarts never felt longer.
When she was about halfway there, she sat down on a big stone at the side of the road, feeling that if she took one more step she would pass out. Freya sat on that stone, watching the castle in the distance, not keeping track of the time that passed.

Someone suddenly jolted her back to reality.

“Hey sunshine, what are you sitting here for?”

Eliot Zabini was looking down at her with a smile on his freckled face. Freya immediately felt better, just at the sight of him. The sun was setting and the soft light made his brown hair shine a rich golden colour. Even when he stopped smiling, his brown eyes kept sparkling.

“Just thinking. Luna was r….” she stopped in mid-sentence when she noticed a boy standing a little behind Eliot. She recognised him as one of the chasers on the Slytherin Quidditch team, Girk Warrington, also a 5th year.
Eliot, who had followed her gaze, quickly introduced them. Then he pulled Warrington aside, and after a small discussion the big Slytherin walked away. Eliot took a seat next to Freya, looking at her with a quizzical expression on his face.

“So, what’s wrong?” Genuine concern was written on his face.

Freya didn’t know if it was the fact that he cared, the fact that he was there, the fact that she needed a friend or a combination of all three. But at that moment she just wanted to trust somebody, and Eliot seemed like the right choice.

“I just counted on someone, and I shouldn’t have,” she started

Eliot helped her up and they began walking in the direction of Hogwarts. She told him what had happened in The Three Broomsticks, and everything else that had lead up to that moment. She expected him to come with some stupid remark about Gryffindors, but he didn’t. He listened, nodded at the right moments and agreed with her when she mentioned something she felt was unjust.
At the end of her story, Eliot looked at her, as if he was debating something.

“What?” Freya asked.

He glanced sideways at her as he spoke. “I think you should talk to them. Well, Luna at least.”

“You do…?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah... I think it’s nice that you are willing to talk to me and all that. But it just seems like something really important happened back there.” He paused to think for a second, unconsciously ruffling his hair. “And the next time I talk to you, I would like it to be because you want to. Not because I’m your only option… I know, that sounds selfish.” He looked down at his hands, not wanting to meet her gaze.

“Eliot, come on… you know it’s not like that!” she told him, but on some level she knew he was right. Freya would never have opened up to him if she hadn’t been so upset at being ditched by Luna.

“Well, just talk to them. You’ll feel better you know…”

“Ok. Not today though.”

And with that Freya grabbed Eliot by the arm and they ran the rest of the way back to Hogwarts.


***a/n Thanks to the Fitchburg Finch Fanfiction Group and my beta Jenova!***

Chapter 6: ...It's Who You Know.
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The Halloween feast was nothing out of the ordinary. Sure, the room was beautifully decorated. The ceiling, that normally showed the sky, was black with skeletons hanging down. The food was delicious and much more diverse than usual.

Freya just couldn’t get all that worked up about the traditions regarding this particular day.

Most people at Hogwarts thought back on the days when they went ‘trick or treating’ as children. But it was only the last couple of years that Halloween even became known in Denmark, let alone celebrated. This was yet another thing to separate her from the majority of the student body.

With her plate half empty and her goblet half full, Freya left the Halloween feast. Not because she didn’t enjoy dinner, she did. But Luna and Ginny had approached her at the Hufflepuff table, and she really didn’t feel like discussing everything in the middle of the Great Hall. Without a word she had brushed by them heading out the door, ignoring the puzzled look on Ginny’s face. She would explain later

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The day after Halloween was a Sunday. Deciding to go for a walk with Thor before breakfast, Freya got up at 7 am.

It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear, and on the horizon the colour was slowly changing from a dark royal blue to the light blue November sky that she loved. Snow was not far away. She could feel it, almost smell it. The air was so fresh that she almost expected snow to fall from the clear sky right there and then.
Thor was running freely around the grounds, giving her time to think. Freya had already planned out how to approach Luna, and hoped that she would be the first one she bumped in to. As Eliot had said, she should at least talk to her. In all fairness Freya didn’t really have the right to be mad at Ginny, Hermione, Harry and Ron. She just knew that they were all hiding something.

When she got down to breakfast, none of them were there. After a quick bite to eat, Freya went looking for Luna. She didn’t know exactly where the Ravenclaw common room was but she knew that the kitchen was located in the dungeons somewhere. Luna knew where it was, and seeing as she hadn’t had any breakfast, there was a slight possibility she would come down there.

As Freya had never walked about the dungeons just for the hell of it, she found them hard to navigate. The lighting was bad; it reminded her of a cemetery at dusk. A shiver crept down her spine. She didn’t know if she should blame it on the temperature, or the creepy feeling she got from being down there. The smell was nearly too much; She could almost taste the mouldiness. Freya had the feeling that it oozed out from Snape’s ‘crypt’. The distinct scent of potions gone wrong lingered in the maze that was the dungeon.
Deciding that she, and her senses, would be better off waiting at the top of the staircase that led down to the dungeon, Freya headed back.

Lost in her own thoughts she failed to notice the figure approaching.

“Ah, Miss Keen. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Every word spoken was dripping with disdain.

Freya looked at Professor Snape. His hair was as greasy as ever, his clothes black as usual. The cloak he wore had a tall neckline that made him look almost vampirish.

She could just see his evil mind working out a way to torment her.

“I’m just looking for Luna Lovegood, Professor,” she answered, sounding nauseatingly sweet.

“If I recall correctly, Miss Lovegood is in Rawenclaw, and you are nowhere near the entrance to their common room.” He sneered. Eyeing her suspiciously he added “You will have to come up with a much better excuse the next time I find you lurking around down here.” He smirked and started to walk away.
Freya sighed with relief at getting off that easily, just as he turned towards her and spat, “10 points from Hufflepuff.” And with a swish of his robes he disappeared in to his classroom.

Not wanting to run in to some other vile Slytherin, ‘except maybe Eliot’ she mused, she decided to drop the search for a while and get some studying done.

Entering the library, she heard hushed voices from behind one of the bookcases. Wanting to see who was causing Madam Pince to twitch with anger, Freya peered around the corner of the wooden bookcase. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville stood clustered tightly together, looking at her in surprise. No one spoke for a moment and it was clear, that the five of them had been in a heated discussion.
Ginny and Ron had flushed faces, Hermione’s knuckles were white, Luna looked more occupied with one of the books on the shelf next to them and Neville had his mouth hanging open, just staring at Freya.

“Oh… Hi Freya.” Hermione broke the silence. “We were just discussing.. um, S.P.E.W. you know, how we can make it better.” She forced a smile, that made her look entirely unbelievable.

Ron muttered something that sounded like, “…or make it go away.” Which only made Hermione’s comment seem more farfetched.

“Yeah.. ok. Luna, could I talk to you?” Freya said, shrugging off the group’s odd behaviour.

Luna turned her gaze to Freya. “I figured you might want to. You know you were quite rude to Ginny and I last night. In fact you owe both of us an explanation, or at least an apology.” Her face showed no sign of hurt or anger, she was just stating a fact. Her gaze returned to the books on the shelf.

Freya knew that she hadn’t been completely fair, but she had expected an apology from Luna. She wasn’t about to make excuses for her behaviour, before Luna had excused her own.

“I was rude?” Freya said, her well concealed anger rising to the surface. “What about you? You just left me! In my opinion that knocks my offence right of the top of the chart.” She could feel her face flush worthy of a Weasley.

“And I told you I was sorry about that,” Luna replied with a calmness that only made Freya angrier.

“That’s supposed to make everything all right then.. huh.. if that’s the case, I will just call you-know-who and tell him this wonderful news. Will that make everything ok with him too?” Freya heard her voice getting squeaky, and her body language became more and more animated.

Everybody looked at her in shock.

“Can’t you at least tell me where you went?” Freya said, forcing her voice back to normal. She looked at all of them, not just Luna.

“I’m really sorry Freya, we.. we can’t.” Ginny was the one who spoke up. She sounded genuinely sorry, but Freya didn’t care. She wanted answers, answers to why they had been keeping secrets from her. Keeping her in the dark.

“Well from what I saw in the Three Broomsticks, half of the students from the 5th year and up know what’s going on. Do you trust all of them more than me?” She managed to control her temper, but her voice was trembling with hurt.

Ginny looked down at her hands, avoiding Freya’s gaze. Luna looked as calm as ever, and just observed Freya with a concerned expression.

Ron, who hadn’t joined the conversation yet, spoke up. “They…” he said, harshly, “…don’t associate with Slytherins.”

“Slytherins? You mean Eliot?” Freya couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Zabini Junior, that’s who I mean,” Ron spat.

“So what if I do associate with him? What has that got to do with anything?” Freya knew exactly what Ron was implying, she just wanted him to say it. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for him to answer, only he didn’t.

“Quite a lot actually,” Hermione interrupted. “Obviously you and this Zabini guy are becoming friends. Friends talk. Friends tell each other secrets. You must understand that we can’t risk anything. We can’t risk you spilling everything to him.” Hermione looked like she was about to cry. She sat down, back against the bookcase, and waited for Freya to answer.

Freya looked at her in disbelief. How could they think that she would ever tell anyone their secrets? She would never do such a thing. How could Hermione back Ron up in these stupid accusations?

“You know,” Freya exclaimed, trembling with detained anger. “Eliot has been nothing but nice to me. And for your information; Slytherins are chosen by their cunningness, not because they are evil. Some decent witches and wizards are placed in Slytherin.” She sneered the last remark at them

Ron let out a loud ‘HA’ and Ginny stared at her in shock, but Hermione was nodding slightly.

“That may be true, but we are not going to risk Harry’s safety on a possibility.” Hermione stated, closing the argument.

At the mention of Harry, Freya looked around. “Where is he anyway?” she asked, momentarily forgetting about the disagreement.

“In our common room.”

“In the hospital wing.”

Ron and Luna both blurted out at the same time.

Luna looked directly at Freya and said once more. “In the hospital wing.”

Ron was shooting daggers at Luna, but the rest of the small group had seated themselves next to Hermione.

“What happened?” Freya asked, but as she looked at their faces she knew it was a waste of time. “Fine don’t tell me anything. I don’t care.” Freya turned to walk away but stopped in her tracks. “As you said Hermione,” she began, her voice turning colder with every word. “Friends tell each other secrets. Obviously I do not have any friends in this crowd.” With that she walked away, but not before hearing Ron’s last comment.

“It’s better this way. She would have said something, I know she would.”


Freya stormed out of the library, to angry to think, to disappointed to cry and to hurt to breath.



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Hallo everybody! I know this chapter is a bit on the short side, but I wanted to cut it of here.. It was better for the flow of the story. Chapter 7 will be much longer I promise… I hope you liked it.. and please don’t hesitate with giving constructive criticism, or just telling what you think so far!

*** A big thank you must go out to The Fitchburg Finch Fan Fiction Group, they have helped me a lot with the difficulties I have had. And ofcause thanks to my amazing beta Jenova!***

***And last but not least... Thank you Finchy, for helping with the summary!***


Chapter 7: Verdante Enron.
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Freya ran, not even knowing where she was going. She didn’t want to be around anyone. She wanted to be alone, to escape the voices in her head, the voices of her so called friends. They were screaming at her. She ran. Totally unaware of where she was, she stormed out of the castle, across the grounds, changing direction on impulse when she saw other students ahead of her.

She eventually came to an abrupt halt on the verge of plunging into the Forbidden Forest.
Freya had never been in the forest, but the solitude it could provide was a temptation she couldn’t resist. As she tentatively passed beyond the first trees, she released the breath she’d been holding. She’d always imagined that there would be some kind of spell preventing students from going in; evidently she’d been wrong.

The forest was eerily quiet, and even though it was almost noon, the further into its depths she walked the darker it became. The faint hint of light that penetrated the foliage above cast an almost magical atmosphere in the forest; Freya half-expected to find a fairytale castle hidden in the thick undergrowth.

Why had she gone in there? Something had drawn her towards the forest; some unknown force, she was sure of it.

Looking around, she couldn’t quite figure out what all the fuss was about. She’d heard numerous stories about how scary it was, but she didn’t feel at all frightened.

Although, most of the accounts had been about the forest at night time. She supposed that was when the forest was at its most dangerous. She just had to make sure that she was out of there before nightfall.

Freya walked aimlessly around for an hour or so, careful not to forget which way she had entered, before she began to notice a change in terrain. The forest began to thin out, looking more like a place you would go with your family for a Sunday picnic. The grass, which covered the undulating landscape, was emerald green in spite of the fact that it was early November. The little stream that ran trough the area sparkled with a freshness that just invited you to take a drink of its crystal clear water.

Freya took her shoes and socks off. Even though it was a cool day, she felt an urge to touch the grass with her toes. Now barefoot, she went down to the stream, sat down and dipped her toes in the icy water. The cool sensation seeped trough her body, refreshing her.

She peered at her reflection in the water. She seemed paler than usual. ‘Probably because of the water’ she thought. In her own opinion, she was a little too chubby and a little too short. Her mother always said; ‘It’s only baby-fat honey, you’ll grow in to it.’ Freya was nearing sixteen and she still hadn’t ‘grown in to it’. She’d been the same height since she was thirteen, 1.60 m, not even a millimetre more.

Freya’s gaze started to wander and something caught her eye, mirrored on the rippling surface of the stream. A small cottage stood a little further down on the opposite bank. Shoving her dripping feet into her shoes and grabbing her socks, she got up and approached it warily. It was wooden with a straw roof; wild flowers surrounded the outside, trailing down from battered window boxes. ‘Who would live here?’ she wondered.

Upon reaching the door, she hesitated. She couldn’t just knock on the door hoping for the best. Could she? Pulling out her wand, just to be safe, Freya knocked quickly and quietly Her heart pounded faster than ever. Not even aware of it, she started biting her nail; ever since she was little she had bit the nail of her left pinkie finger when she was nervous.

It took every ounce of courage she had not to run away. What really made her stay, even when she heard someone moving around inside, was the feeling that this was the reason she had entered the forest. This was something she was supposed to see. As the door opened, her body tensed in expectation.

A woman stood before her. Freya’s forehead wrinkled. The woman had long silvery grey hair, yet her face wasn’t that of old age. In fact, Freya couldn’t determine how old the woman was. It was almost as if her features were constantly shifting, minute changes that kept her neither young nor old. Her long silvery grey hair also seemed to be in constant movement. It wasn’t grey like Dumbledore’s beard, which was obviously a result of his advancing years. Her hair appeared as though it had always been that slightly iridescent shade.

Her eyes seemed black at first glance, but as Freya looked closer, she got the impression that every single colour was absorbed in them. ‘Maybe that turned them black,’ Freya mused. The long dress the woman had on didn’t stop Freya’s amazement at the person standing in front of her; if her eyes had absorbed every colour, then her dress radiated them. It was impossible to see where one colour ended and the next began. Freya moved her gaze to the woman’s feet: they were bare. The odd thing about them was that the nails were the some colour as her hair. Intrigued, Freya looked at her hands to check the fingernails; they were the same. Something else grabbed Freya’s attention, the woman was knitting. The yarn she used was made from the same fabric as the dress. The silver-nailed fingers were moving; knitting, non-stop.

“Hello, my name is Freya,” she said, finally breaking the silence. She tried to put as much confidence into her voice as she could muster, but she was no Gryffindor, and never would be. Moments of courage were few and far between. She was, however, curious and that drove her to do things that could be mistaken as bravery.

“Well, hello. I am glad you chose this path my dear. Life is full of choices, even I do not know where every one will end up.” The still unidentified woman smiled at Freya, showing her toothless mouth.

“My name is Verdante Enron. Please, come in. I’ve just put on some tea.” She entered the cottage, leaving the door open for Freya. Verdante went over to the fireplace. As she pulled the teapot out of the flames, Freya noticed that she hadn’t put her knitting down. She gasped as it touched the flames lightly, but astonishingly it didn’t burn.

“Sit down, my dear.” Verdante offered, pointing at a red beanbag on the floor.

Freya dropped onto it, reaching for the teacup she was handed. She glanced around the room while she sipped on the sweet drink.

It was bigger than she’d expected. To the right of the entrance was a round dining table, big enough to seat three people. In the furthest corner was a sort of kitchen; it looked old and was built from stone. On the shelves were herbs and potion ingredients that Freya, possibly even Professor Snape, she thought, had never laid eyes on before. A big cauldron was placed on the floor. It would have been a fairly inconspicuous room if not for one thing, everywhere a textile of some sort was used, it was made from the same colour-shifting material as Verdante’s dress; the curtains, the tablecloth, even the beanbag she was sitting on. Lost in her observations, Freya hadn’t noticed Verdante’s gaze upon her. Verdante coughed slightly, to catch her attention.

“Sorry,” Freya said, jerking her head up to meet the odd woman’s gaze.

“It’s quite alright.” she replied, sounding a little bit like Dumbledore. Verdante Enron took a sip of her tea and surveyed the girl in front of her. “Freya, what brings you here?” She had an extremely penetrating gaze. “I don’t get visitors that often, you know.”

Freya had the feeling that Verdante already knew the reason she was there.

“I suppose I just needed to get away,” Freya replied, not wanting to go into any specifics. “And this is where I ended up.” She could already feel herself getting slightly angry at the memory of the argument.

“Interesting, very interesting. A subconscious decision, then. What you seek is an answer. I can only tell you some things. Not everything is clear to me at this moment.” The tone in her voice indicated that she was finished, but Freya waited for more.

After five minutes of waiting in silence, it was more than apparent that it was Freya’s turn to talk. She had no idea what she was expected to say. If she was supposedly seeking an answer, what was the question? Normally, Freya would be able to come up with tons of questions, but right at that moment her mind was blank. Maybe it was about her friendships at school, but that just seemed too simple. Finally, she decided to ask.

“Answer to what? What am I supposed to ask?”

Verdante looked up from her knitting and smiled at her. “Only people with truly important questions weighing on their minds can find their way to my residence. Dig a little deeper, child. If you could ask me anything, what would it be?” Her piercing black eyes encouraged Freya to search inside herself, beyond the argument that was still filling up her head.

Then it hit her; her gift!

Could she tell a stranger about something she had only discussed with a select few? Once again, her curiosity got the better of her.

“My gift, something about my gift,” she blurted out, her excitement overshadowing her doubts.

“If that is what you think it is about, then yes. As I said, something must have brought you to me. Even if you didn’t know it yourself.” She smiled again, and Freya silently wished that she wouldn’t; without any teeth it looked kind of creepy.

“Will I be able to handle it?” Freya asked quietly, almost afraid to know the answer. She absentmindedly started to bite her fingernail, waiting for a response.

Oddly enough, Verdante didn’t look in Freya’s tealeaves or in the palm of her hand as Feya was half-expecting. Once again, Verdante had turned back to her knitting.

“Handling it will not be the problem. There are two clear paths for you, and both indicate that you should be more than able to cope with your abilities.” Again Verdante smiled, but this time she kept her mouth closed.

“If that won’t be my problem, what will?” Freya was becoming rather nervous. It didn’t sound good to her at all. For a brief moment, she wondered why she should even trust this stranger. She came to the conclusion that if she didn’t like what Verdante had to say, she could always disregard it as an old woman’s rambling. Advice was appreciated, but she didn’t have to believe it.

“Everybody has to make choices. In the future you will have a big decision to make. The choice you make will have an impact on those around you; quite a big impact as far as I can tell.” As Verdante spoke, she became more and more serious. Freya, on the other hand, became more and more convinced that she was wasting her time. Maybe this woman was a bit disturbed? Why else would she choose to live in the middle of the Forbidden Forest of all places?

“What should I decide then?” Freya asked in spite herself. She was hoping that she could at least get one clear answer, just on the chance that this woman wasn’t out of her mind.

“I do not have the answer to that dear, and even if I did, I would not give it to you. It would not really be your decision if someone told you what to do. More tea?” she asked, finishing their conversation.

“No, thank you. I should be heading back… if I can find my way out.” The last bit she said more to herself, but nevertheless, Verdante answered.

“Oh, that will be no problem, child. When you are ready to go back, just step out of the door and proceed straight ahead. After a few minutes, you should find yourself at the outskirts of the forest. Next to Hagrid’s hut, if I am not mistaken.” She got up and replaced the teapot over the flames.

Freya rose from her seat and moved to shake Verdante’s hand; but seeing as she kept on knitting, making no indication of stopping to grab her hand, Freya waved instead.

Just as Verdante Enron had said, it took Freya no time at all to find her way out of the Forbidden Forest. Judging by the delicious smells drifting down from the school, it was about time for dinner.

Freya headed towards the castle, deep in thought. The conversation had been good for nothing but more confusion. She decided to let it go for now. Maybe she could ask Dumbledore about it when she got the chance. Sure, she wasn’t supposed to have gone in to the forest, but she could always tell him that she’d had another dream. Even if he didn’t believe her, how could he prove that she was lying?

The Great Hall was filled with students sitting down to eat. Freya caught Ginny casting nervous glances in her directions. Searching the Gryffindor table, Freya noticed that Harry wasn’t there. She’d forgotten all about him. Something quite serious had to have happened for him to be in the hospital wing for more than a day. Freya decided that she would go and check how he was when she had eaten. Maybe he would tell her something...




***a/n Hey everybody! Sorry that this chapter was long in the making, but I really want to do my best… If you have anything to comment on please feel free to do so!

***thanks to Finchy and Jenova for all their help as my betas!***

***and once again thanks to the The Fitchburg Finch Fan Fiction Group for all their support***



Chapter 8: Trust Me...
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Freya finished her dinner quicker than usual. Just as she was about to leave the Hufflepuff table and head for the Hospital wing, a strong hand grabbed her shoulder.

“Where do you think you are going, Keen?” A boy’s voice sounded from behind her.

Freya took hold of his wrist and pulled him down. His nose was only a few centimetres from the last of her mashed potatoes. “Don’t start with me, Zabini, I could do something a lot worse than stuff your nose in some leftovers.” Freya stated, trying hard to hold back a chuckle.

He took a chunk of the mashed potatoes in his free hand and hovered it over her head, a big grin spreading across his face. “Do you give?” he asked, turning his hand around grabbing her wrist instead.

With the situation reversed, Freya saw no way out. She finally let out a chuckle as she said, “I give! I give!”

Eliot let out a triumphant roar, letting go of her hand and dropping the potatoes on her plate. He took a seat beside her. “So where were you at lunch, I haven’t seen you all day?” He looked at her with concern, his fingers fiddling with her empty goblet.

“I just had to get out, that’s all.” His sceptical expression didn’t miss her attention. Freya, getting annoyed with him, decided that it was none of his business. “It’s not like we see each other every day, you know. I didn’t know I had to account for everything I did!” She knew she was being harsh, but that didn’t stop her. He was being meddlesome and that was just as bad.

“You’re right, sorry!” With that, Eliot got up from his seat beside her. The goblet still in his hand, he stormed out of the Great Hall.

Several people gave Freya an inquisitive look, but she just glared directly at them until they got uncomfortable and looked away.

‘Great,’ Freya thought. He was the only person she had left, and now she wasn’t even sure of him anymore. Trying to ignore the lump forming in her throat, Freya got up from her seat and headed towards the Hospital Wing. She crossed her fingers, hoping Madam Pomfrey was in a good mood.

Hesitating for a bit, Freya silently pushed the door open to peak inside. Harry’s bed was surrounded by a small group of people. Harry himself lay still, the only indication of the life that remained in his body was his chest’s rise and fall.

“We don’t know that for sure, not until we speak to Harry. We must try to keep calm, Sean.” Dumbledore said, glancing nervously at Harry.

Freya noted that ‘Sean’ had to be the first name of professor Jordan.

“I know that, Albus. I’m just saying that the circumstances seem familiar, that’s all.” His features seemed to glaze over for a moment, as if he was remembering something. He then turned so that Freya could no longer see his face. He too was looking at Harry.

“We have to hope for the best. Hope for the best and be prepared for the worst.” McGonagall added, entering the conversation. Madam Pomfrey just gave a silent nod.

Feeling as if she was intruding, which she was, Freya closed the door softly. Harry wouldn’t know if she had been there or not anyway. At least she knew that he wasn’t so badly beaten up that he had to go to Saint Mungo’s. As she turned to walk back to the Hufflepuff common room she saw Eliot disappear around a corner. ‘Did he follow me?’ She ran after him, hoping to get a chance to make things right. He was the only one who had yet to disappoint her, except for Harry. She was sure that he would have been right there in the library along with his friends if he hadn’t been injured. ‘How did that happen anyway?” she mused as she tried to catch up with Eliot.

“Eliot!” Freya shouted. Still running, she turned the same corner as she had seen him disappear around. Startled at the fact that he was waiting for her only a couple of metres away, she almost bumped into him while slowing down.

“So, that is where you were all day, visiting Potter? “The last two words were spat at her. He stood leaning against the wall, looking at the ground, trying to hide his hurt.

“No… no!” She was confused; it sounded like he was mad, but it seemed to be something more than her rudeness earlier. “Are you mad at me?” she finally asked.

He didn’t answer, and Freya didn’t want to push him. She edged closer and rested her back against the wall next to him.

“I am not mad… not at all. I just wish you would trust me.” He finally met her eyes. “Can you trust me?” he asked, taking her hand in his.

Freya felt her heart beat fiercely. She looked him in the eyes, felt the warmth of his hand, and she knew she could trust him. She had so much on her mind, so much she needed to share with someone other than professor Dumbledore. She trusted Eliot, she had to.

“I do trust you, and I want to talk to you about what happened today.” She held his hand a little tighter and felt him doing the same. “I don’t want anyone else to hear, though,” she added quietly.

Eliot gave her a big smile and started to walk towards a staircase nearby. He didn’t let go of her hand. Eliot led her down an empty hallway, at the end of which a large oak door resided. He pushed the door open.

“What is this place?” Freya asked. Her eyes wandered across the unfamiliar room. Freya found it too small to be a regular classroom, but it looked unmistakably like one. The walls were decorated with several muggle pictures, mostly showing historical buildings: the Eiffel tower, the Sistine Chapel, the Coliseum and many more. Freya had seen a lot of muggle pictures before. Astrid, her next-door neighbour at home, was a muggle and therefore had tons of them. Her gaze moved from the walls to the desk. Instead of feathers and ink, the teacher’s desk played host to pencils and pens in different shapes and colours. The sheet of paper laying beside the writing tools looked too white, too clean.

“This is the Muggle Studies classroom,” Eliot answered, finally letting go of her hand as he entered. He took a seat at one of the tables.

“It seems much too small, I only see tables enough for ten pupils.” Freya pointed out.

“Well, I don’t know about other years,” Eliot began, “we’re only eight!” He smiled at her and waved his hand at the seat next to him.

“I didn’t even know you took Muggle Studies.” Freya said, trying hard not to sound as surprised as she was. She took the seat beside him as he spoke.

“Never asked, did you?” He grinned at her, showing that he had no ill will on the matter and continued, “I actually don’t know your last subject either. We have Divination together, so that’s a no-brainer.” He chuckled at lightly at his own bad attempt at humour.

“Ancient Runes and Arithmancy,” Freya answered.

“You took three?! Why?” He tilted back on his chair, casually putting his feet on the table and folding his hands across his chest.

“I wanted all three of them, Professor Sprout told me that it was no problem. Some people take four or even five!” Freya retaliated. She didn’t want him to think she was a nerd.

They sat in silence. Freya looked curiously around the unknown room; Eliot just observed her. After a while, she remembered why they had come there in the first place. “So, was there anything in particular you wanted to ask me?” Freya looked at Eliot, hoping that she was making the right choice in trusting him. ‘What is the worst thing that can happen?’ she thought, taking chances was a part of life.

“You tell me…” He locked their eyes together, placing his feet back on the ground and sitting up straight.

His Brown eyes illuminated with compassion; she felt like he was showing her a piece of his soul, and she wanted to do the same. Everything that had come to pass since that morning in the kitchen with her father, up to the meeting with Verdante Enron, poured out of her. Freya hadn’t realised how much she needed someone to share the burden with her. Someone to give another perspective on things, or even just listen. Eliot paid attention to everything she said. He listened with curiosity and a hint of sorrow that only surfaced when Freya worded the despair she was feeling. He didn’t interrupt her once, neither with questions nor comments. He waited patiently until she had finished.

“… My birthday is in a little less than four weeks, I have no idea what will happen. I just don’t know what to expect.” Freya finished, her eyes glazing over. She was trying hard to hold back her tears, a crying girl was probably the last thing he wanted on his hands. She didn’t want him to know how scared she was.

“I wouldn’t worry about it just yet.” he said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “There is nothing you can do about it now anyway, you’ll… We will just have to wait and see.” He rubbed her back soothingly.

“Mm… That is not as easy as it sounds, though.” She wished she could be careless about it. Every time she wasn’t occupied by something else, her mind wandered and it always found it’s its way back to the same topic.

“I know, but I will do anything I can to help you. You are not alone anymore.” He bit his lip and furrowed his brows, as if debating something. He started speaking again; apparently he had come to a conclusion. “Me and some of my friends have a study group. We meet once, sometime twice, a week. Uh… I could ask them if you could join?” He looked at her with anticipation. His hand lay motionless on her back.

Freya hesitated shortly; if they were his friends, then most of them would be in Slytherin. If it had been only two days ago she would have declined, but she had experienced for herself that it didn’t matter if someone was an ‘oh-so-noble Gryffindor’ Right now she could only think of the fact that she had befriended at least one person from each of the other houses. The only ‘house’ that hadn’t let her down was Slytherin.

“Ok!” Freya exclaimed, a little louder than intended.

“Really? Great!” Eliot jumped up from his seat, removing his hand from her back in the process. He headed towards the door. “ ‘You coming?” he asked her, beaming.

“I don’t really have a choice,” Freya stated, laughing, “I haven’t the faintest idea where we are!” She got up from her seat and followed Eliot out the door.

“The next study-session is this Wednesday, you can come with me then. It’ll be harder for the others to say no if you’re there…” Eliot looked over his shoulder smirking slightly. He was a Slytherin, no doubt.

************************************************************************************************

Wednesday came faster than expected; Freya was finding herself getting very nervous. Eliot had told her that the group did mainly consist of Slytherins, from fourth to sixth year. Freya knew that Hufflepuffs weren’t exactly popular amongst Slytherins, she was mentally preparing to be asked to leave. Eliot had tried to convince her that he had a pretty good say in the matter, but Freya was still doubtful.

Her last class of the day was Herbology with the Gryffindors. She placed herself as far away from Ginny as possible, which resulted in an unfortunate turn of events; One of her fellow Hufflepuff girls came and joined her: Melandra Vicio. She had long blond hair, plain blue eyes and she had too much of her muggle mother’s foundation on. Even though Freya had no evidence to back up her suspicions, she was almost certain that Melandra had used magic to make her hair longer and blonder. Nobody grew their hair more than twenty centimetres in one summer.

“I wondered how long it would take before Harry Potter and his friends grew tired of you.” Melandra whispered this from the corner of her mouth while she pretended to listen to their head of house; Professor Sprout was going on about the proper care of the Halletrux flower. The leaves were yellow, which made the plant look sick. The flower itself was blue and, apparently, if well taken care of, the juices from the light blue flower could be used to make the well-known ‘dreamless-sleep-potion’.

“Maybe I grew tired of them,” Freya hissed back. She knew she would be better off just ignoring Melandra; she was awful.

“Oh, really?” The condescending tone in her voice was not at all subtle. “Like you grew tired of every girl in our dorm?” She chuckled a little at her own wit and went on, “Did your new friends find out that you have quite long fingers, or did you quit being a little klepto, when I caught you? It was lucky… I mean, who knows how much you could have taken from us over the years?” She smirked briefly at Freya, then she turned her attention to professor Sprout. The conversation was over.

Freya still remembered the day, just before Christmas. It was almost four years ago.



A twelve-year-old girl hurried from the Owlery towards the Hufflepuff dormitories. Her best friend, Nadine, had told her at dinner that she had something important to ask her. Freya had had to write a Christmas letter to her parents; it was her first Christmas away from her family. She actually looked forward to trying an English Christmas. Nadine had told her that everybody got their presents on the 25th in the morning, not on Christmas eve as Freya was used to. When Freya had told Nadine that they danced around their Christmas tree, she had laughed so hard that she fell down from the bed she was sitting on at the time.

Entering her dorm, the smile upon Freya’s face faded. Her trunk lay open on the floor, surrounded by angry, hurt looking first year Hufflepuff girls.

“What’s going on?” Freya asked, breaking the building tension in the room. She stayed in the doorway, scared of the anger radiating from the five other girls.

Nadine grabbed something from Freya’s trunk and held it out for Freya, and everyone else, to see.

“I’ve been looking for my dragon-hide glows for more than two weeks. I finally found them…” Tears were welling up in her dark eyes, her brown hands still holding out the red glows. “How could you, Freya?”

It finally dawned on the somewhat slow first year what Nadine and the other girls were insinuating. “I…” Freya began, but she didn’t know what to say. She knew that she hadn’t taken anything, from anyone, but there was no way to prove it. The past month all the girls in their dorm had been losing things. Everyone, except Freya. Melandra had thought Freya to be guilty, but Nadine had stuck up for her. Now the trunk lay open on the floor, stuffed with quills, robes and several other things, that didn’t belong to her. Tears started forming in the corners of her eyes.

“I knew it, I told all of you that she was the one who took our stuff,” Melandra began. “Lucky I knocked over her trunk, who knows how much she could have taken over the years?” She smirked at the others and began to empty Freya’s trunk of all the things that didn’t belong to her.

“I didn’t… Nadine… You know I didn’t do it!” Freya looked at her best friend pleadingly. She moved towards Nadine and placed a hand on her arm.

Nadine’s eyes turned cold, tears still running down her cheeks, “I wanted to invite you to my place for Christmas,” she said, tearing her arm free of Freya’s hold. “I cant believe I almost invited you in to my home. I hate you.” With that, Nadine turned away and threw herself on her bed, refusing to talk to Freya or anyone else.



To this day, Freya had no clue as to what had happened. She knew she hadn’t taken those things, she was no thief. The experience had thought her something valuable though: never trust anyone completely. She and Nadine had been best friends, Nadine should have believed her. Now she hung out with that awful tart Melandra Vicio. Freya didn’t even care anymore, she had Eliot now. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth trusting.


Thank you Finchy and Jenova for helping me out once again! What would I do without you two...

I have decided to wait untill I have read HBP to put up another chapter... I would prefer it if this story was not AU but I will have to decide that when I have read all of HBP...

Chapter 9: The H.E.
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a/n Hallo everyone... I know this chapter has been a long time comming, but I hope you get some answers (and hopefully a lot more questions as well...). Enjoy!






Freya was pacing nervously outside the Great Hall, waiting for Eliot to finish his dinner and meet her as agreed. Letting her thoughts wander, Freya became aware of the fact that she still hadn’t seen Harry. She had tried to visit him in the Hospital Wing on Sunday, when she saw professor Dumbledore and the others. It was now Wednesday, and it was bothering her that he was apparently still injured. ‘He has got his own friends, they can worry about him,’ Freya thought. Getting tired of her own ongoing pacing, she sat down at the bottom of the staircase.

Freya had been looking forward to, and fretting, her meeting with Eliot’s study-group. Her worst fear wasn’t even that they would dismiss her right away. The worst thing imaginable was that they accepted her, only to find out in a month or so that they didn’t like her anyway. If they just rejected her at once, she could blame them. Whereas it would only be her fault if they changed their minds... It sadly seemed that blame had its way of finding her, no matter how well she was hidden. Someone always pointed their finger at her in the most unfavorable situations. When praise was on her doorstep though, it always passed right by.

“Hey gorgeous!” Eliot greeted her. He placed his right hand in her left and pulled her up. “Are you ready?” He smiled warmly at her and winked slightly on his right eye.

“As ready as I’ll ever be...” Freya answered, not letting go of his hand. They went up the stairs and headed to the fourth flour on the north side of the castle.

“So...” Freya started, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach, by picking up conversation. “Does this study-group of yours have a name?” In truth Freya wasn’t even that interested and she couldn’t help a slight giggle when she heard the answer.

“The H.E” Eliot glanced at her with a wicked smirk and added; “The Hogwarts Elite!” noticing her amusement, he explained a bit further. “It is not like we think we are the elite...yet. It’s more like a goal. But hey, I’ll bet you anything it will be true at the end of our seventh year!” He had a smug look about him, and Freya knew there was no point in arguing.

As they stepped on to the fourth floor Freya felt the forgotten knot sneaking into her awareness. ‘It can’t be far now’ Freya mused making her grip Eliot’s hand just a little tighter. No more than a moment had past before Eliot stopped.

There was nothing to see besides some old moldy looking paintings and a tedious statue of a Goblin of some sort. Scanning the area, Eliot made sure no one was nearby. After that little check, he let go of her hand and did a strange dance. Just as Freya was ready to burst with laughter; four of the bricks that made out the floor, lowered themselves making a staircase.

“You have to step on the four bricks in a specific order, I can’t tell you how yet...” He grabbed her hand again, squeezed it once and led her down the stairs. Freya’s heart was beating fast and at that moment she couldn’t tell if it was from the excitement of going down there, or because of the boy walking in front of her.

At the bottom they entered a medium sized room with soft chairs and coffee tables, settled in groups of five. In the middle of the room a bigger table was placed, with room for seating seats for thirty people more or less. Hanging over the large working table was a beautiful chandelier. It was floating magically and gave a soothing bluish light. Above the smaller seating arrangements similar lighting was placed, only smaller and standing in the middle of the round wooden coffee tables.

Freya and Eliot were the first ones to arrive, which gave Freya plenty of time to study the room further.

“What is this place?” Freya whispered, not really directing the question at anyone.

Eliot had seated himself at one of the coffee tables in a comfortable looking navy-blue chair. He had his hands folded across his chest as he answered Freya question: “A meeting place of sorts. No one really knows what the purpose of the room was when it was built. For generations groups of students have met down here to study. Seventh years choose new people every year. When they have made their choices the sixth years and then the fifth years get their chance. The group never consists of more than thirty. At the moment we are twenty-seven.” He looked at her showing his only signs of nerves thus far, “I just hope I was one of the only ones to bring a pledge...”

Freya took a seat beside him. The knot was turning in to a happy bundle of butterflies. Again she questioned if it was the fact that she could be a part of a long proud tradition, or the prospect of spending time with Eliot.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while as the room slowly filled up. Freya recognized about a third; almost everyone was dressed in Slytherin robes and those who weren’t were from Ravenclaw. Freya didn’t spot a single Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor for that matter, and that didn’t seem to calm her nerves. Everyone seated at the bigger table and chatted comfortably. Eliot rose and as did Freya, he laid a hand on her back, silently guiding her.

At the head of the table sat a boy with brown hair and eyes with a striking resemblance to the boy seated next to her. Blaise Zabini seemed to be quite important in this crowd. Next to him, also at the head of the table, sat a smug looking blond seventh year boy. Freya didn’t know his name, but on pure instinct she didn’t like him. He raised his hand demanding - and getting - silence.

“As usual we will start this meeting with pledges. Anyone who is immediately rejected must leave the room at once. If anyone is being considered they will be allowed to stay for the rest of the evening. However, they will not be invited back until a proper decision has been made.” He said this as if it was said at the beginning of every meeting. Freya found it a bit cold; what if someone, like herself, was bad at making first impressions? She would apparently only get one chance and she didn’t even know what they were looking for.

The strawberry blond haired boy sat in silence as if waiting for pledges. Freya looked at Eliot, trying to get a clue in what to do. He shook his head slightly; telling her to wait. Not taking any chances Freya kept silent, shifting her gaze ever so often to Eliot just to be sure.

“Ok,” the foreman, or whatever they called him, started, “It seems none of the seventh year students have new pledges. Sixth years?”

“Draco Malfoy. I am making a pledge on behalf of my dear friend; Pansy Parkinson.” Malfoy had risen from his seat, pulling the girl Pansy Parkinson up with him. She looked pleased and sure of herself. Freya had seen her prance around the school with a superior look on her face. Ginny had told her a bunch of stories about her and Malfoy. They made life miserable for people of lower standards than themselves.

As the questioning started, Freya tuned out. It didn’t occur to her that it could be useful for her to listen.

She was literally pulled back in reality when Eliot began to introduce her, stating that ‘He was making a pledge on behalf of his special friend; Freya Keen.’

Freya was shaking, her knees suddenly felt weak and her heart was pounding in her chest. She grabbed a hold of the back of her chair to make sure not to fall down.

“Freya Keen, welcome. I am Peter Cornwell the chairman.” He lifted his chin up when he said this, looking pleased. “Please state your full name, year and house.” He neither smiled nor gave any comforting sign as he said this. Eliot placed his hand on her shoulder. Freya took a deep breath calming her worst nerves.

“Freya Keen, fifth year, Hufflepuff.” She tried to sound as confident as possible, thinking this was awfully formal for a study group.

“How far back can you date the magic legacy of your family, on both sides?”

Once again she took a deep breath before answering. She found this a bit odd; why did they want information about purity of blood? “On my fathers side magic can be dated back further than the founders of Hogwarts. I am not sure about my mother though. My grandparents were both magical they were English called White.”

Most of the people around her started muttering and Freya heard the girl next to her say something that sounded like: “How can you not know your magical linage? It’s absurd!” Even though a lot of people seemed to agree with that the majority looked kind of impressed. Even the usually smug looking Cornwell managed to twitch his lips upwards, in what Freya assumed to be, the beginning of a smile.

“We will have to check that information,” Cornwell said turning back to his serious self. “On with the questions; why do you want to join this group?” He looked her directly in the eyes, as if trying to read the truth in them.

“I want to improve...” Freya answered, putting a lock of hair behind her right ear. “Not only academically but in every aspect of my life. Eliot,” she made a small gesture towards him, “speaks highly of you and I have been looking for a place to... fit in.” For the first time since Freya had arrived she felt comfortable. Eliot’s hand glided from her shoulder, where it had rested, to her hand.

“Maybe,” Cornwell started,” you have found that place here. Are there any more pledges this evening?” He glanced around the table. When no one spoke up, he continued. “That was it for the formalities then, both pledges will be considered. Let’s get to work.” Everybody started splitting up in groups of four or five and sat down at the coffee tables.

Freya who was still standing, looked at Eliot; “How did I do?”

“Brilliant!” He said, “Just brilliant!”

During the rest of the evening Freya’s uneasiness about the H.E. was washed away. Everybody was nice and helpful. After two hours she was on her way back to her dormitories and found herself wishing, more than anything, that they would accept her. Who would have thought that she, Freya Keen, Hogwarts outcast, would be considered for something like this?
At the beginning of the year she would be seen hanging out with the Weasleys and Harry Potter. When that didn’t work out, she had been lucky to meet Eliot and now... Maybe her last two and a half years at Hogwarts wouldn’t be that bad after all.





On a perfectly ordinary Saturday morning Freya was walking Thor. Caught in her own thoughts she spotted a raven approaching the school. About three weeks ago she had sent Mia home with an update on everything, and with her birthday coming up in less than a week, it could be her coming back.
Freya hurried up to the Owlery. Just as she was about to enter she heard hushed voices coming from inside. Hesitating a bit she recognized one as Harry Potters.

“I’m fine, nothing happened.” He sounded somewhat annoyed.

“Come off it Harry, you are not fine. You have been in the hospital for the biggest part of a month.” A voice which Freya knew as Hermione’s replied.

“Three weeks!” Harry countered. “I am fine, I’m great. Madam Pomfrey would never let me leave if she thought I wasn’t completely ready.” Both of them went quite for a minute, and just as Freya was about to enter Hermione picked up conversation again.

“What happened Harry, what did he do to you?” She sounded worried.

“It’s a spell I have never heard before. Dumbledore knew about it, he had learned of it only a couple of weeks before the attack. Apparently it’s new.”

“But, what did it do to you?”

“It knocked me out for one, but the rest comes gradually. It’s supposed to change you. Bend your will.”

“Like the Imperious curse?”

“No, this one changes you for good.” This was said only above a whisper.

“What? That’s horrible... Harry we’ve got to do something!” Hermione sounded on the verge of tears.

“Dumbledore has already done what was necessary. Apparently it is crucial to the curse that you influence your victim on a regular basis. That’s why you couldn’t see me. I had to be alone to fight off the curse.”

“That makes sense. Even though we wouldn’t want to change you, we could do it by accident. Oh, this is a very dangerous curse.” Footsteps could be heard, and even though she was almost sure it was just Hermione’s pacing, she didn’t want to take any chances.

As she descended the stairs and headed towards the Hufflepuff common room she was deep in thoughts. Forgetting all about Mia she finally laid down on her four poster bed trying to figure everything out. One thing she knew; she was glad that Harry was back. Even though she had no intentions of speaking to him anymore, she didn’t want to see him hurt or have to worry about him anymore. With her birthday fast approaching and the H.E. making their decision, she had enough on her mind.

She rolled over and fell into a restless sleep, with dreams about a blond man attacking a young black haired boy while a beautiful raven soared in sky above them.







a/n: thank you for being patient with me, I hope you guys liked it!

***thank you Drommen for betaing this chapter!***

Chapter 10: Happy birthday
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”I’ve got it covered.”

“Sure you’re not getting in too deep?”

“Just trust me, everything’s going as planned.”

“I’ve been watching you, it seems like...”
“That is the point, isn’t it?”

“...”

“I know what I’m doing, you should know that. Honestly!”

“Yeah, well you can never be too careful.”

“Too true...”

“Does he expect anything?”

****************************************************************

Freya’s birthday was approaching rapidly - less than three days to go. Restlessness took over most of her time during those short days.

Because of the nagging uneasiness, she woke up that gray November morning earlier than the other girls in her dorm. Her eyes were not functioning to the best of their ability and she tripped over Nadine’s trunk, making the sleeping girls stir. After a quick shower, she took Thor for a walk and then headed down for an early breakfast.

In truth, nothing exciting happened during the days that followed. Somehow Freya had expected everything to escalate, to build up as her birthday got closer. It didn’t.

The last lesson on November twenty-fifth was Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the most boring lesson Freya had ever had in the presence of her favourite professor. In fact Professor Jordan was very distant, he made the class read chapter after chapter from their textbook, and didn’t notice when someone raised their hand to ask him a question. Freya couldn’t help but think that if this became a regular thing she had to agree with Ginny - Lupin was the better teacher.

Most of the lesson was spent discussing Professor Jordan’s weird behaviour with Eliot.

“It just seems a bit odd; suddenly he's in a complete Binns-mode.” Eliot whispered, even though it wasn’t necessary; everybody was talking and Professor Jordan’s attention remained unattainable. He sat chewing on the end of his quill absentmindedly.

“Yeah... It’s weird.”

’I’m just saying that the circumstances seem familiar.’

Professor Jordan’s words echoed in her mind. When Freya had heard him speak with the other professors about Harry's stay in the Hospital Wing, she hadn’t given Professor Jordan’s words a lot of thought. Now, putting it together with the conversation she had overheard between Harry and Hermione, it made more sense. That was how Professor Dumbledore knew about the curse hitting Harry; Professor Jordan had told him. In Freya’s mind it all made sense, but Eliot wasn’t as easily convinced. He seemed to think she was jumping to conclusions.

“Ok, let’s say you are right...” Eliot began, rolling his eyes slightly, making it obvious to Freya that he didn’t really think so. “Just because something seems familiar, doesn’t mean that he has seen it. It could be a friend or even his mother’s aunt’s friend’s sister... And you still don’t know for sure what happened to Potter.”

Freya knew he had a point; she had a habit of fitting things together in her mind even though there was a complete lack of evidence. Her mind was spinning with information, she almost forgot about her dreaded birthday the following day. Almost.

As she lay in her bed the minutes turned into hours. She had gone to bed early, unable to keep her focus on anything but the upcoming events, although she didn’t have a single clue of what to expect. Half past eleven she felt as though she had been waiting for three days, not hours. Freya slid out of bed and started pacing the floor; she could hardly wait anymore. Then it occurred to her that she didn’t have to just wait; she could actually do something - a bit of reading perhaps?

Freya hadn’t touched the book she had gotten from her father, not since that first night, and honestly, she wanted to be prepared for whatever she was about to face.

For some time the book lay closed in Freya’s lap. Somehow she would deem it a bigger defeat if she didn’t understand it after this night. It seemed that her birthday was a bridge to her inheritance, when she turned sixteen the passageway should be open. That moment was only an hour away.

Placing the book on her pillow she laid down flat on her tummy; supporting her chin with one hand and going through the book randomly with the other. Freya read the same passage again and again; it was explanations to spells. One was particularly difficult to grasp:

Those who conquer the world will always be lacking. The heart is full if the mind is willing. If the mind conquers and the heart is lacking, nothing is gained. The heart must conquer an unwilling mind.

She didn’t understand a thing, it was rubbish. She was used to a clear explanation on how to move the wand and which letter to emphasize. The only thing she was offered in this book was paragraphs of total and complete nonsense. Half an hour later, Freya had managed to understand, more or less, the meaning of three spells or whatever they were. To be quite honest with herself; Freya had no idea if any of the things she read resembled what she knew of magic at the moment. Suddenly she was painfully aware of what it was like to be Muggleborn.

The three things Freya understood, by eleven thirty PM on Wednesday twenty-fifth of November, were as follows:

Liefdania: This was one of the first spells mentioned. As far as Freya could tell it was a spell to surround a bigger or smaller radius with love. How that actually worked and what it meant, Freya didn’t know.

Valkyranian Arrivarius: The spell was on page twenty and seemed a lot more complicated. Nevertheless Freya felt certain that she had understood the essential parts of it. It was a summoning spell of sorts, something to call her friends to her. Now, she had no idea how broad the term friends was in this book; right now the only friend she could think of was Eliot and somehow Freya knew there was more to it than that.

Sort Imperi: This was the last one she got some meaning out of. The other two had made a bit more sense, but she knew she was on the right track, she didn’t really understand the given explanation, but the ‘spell’ itself gave a lot away. Sort was the Danish word for black and Imperi sounded an awful lot like Imperius. Putting those two together it would bring about something like Black forcing spell or Black bend-will spell. Freya was a bit disturbed by her own conclusions; it sounded evil and awful. If she was right about this... maybe she was turning into something horrid?

With those terrifying thoughts flowing through her head, Freya dozed off. Her hand slipped from under her chin and her head sank into the pillow next to the open book.

When Freya opened her eyes, it took her a minute or two to realize that she was no longer truly awake. The room was exactly the same as the last time Freya was there. Darkness, broken by sporadically placed floating candles. The mahogany table held the crimson book once more. Without hesitation Freya approached the book. This time it didn’t move towards her, no one told her what to do. This time she decided for herself; she was ready.

The book looked regular, nothing special really. Still, Freya’s stomach clenched and her throat felt dry. Last time, she had opened it to find colours confusingly swirling about the pages. What would she find this time? Finally, Freya placed her index finger between two pages and opened the book with care. Rays of a thousand colours dazzled Freya, overwhelming her with emotions. It flooded her. She was unable to move, think, to do anything but stand there and just let whatever was happening, happen.

Then abruptly, the rays ceased and Freya collapsed on the floor. Years later, she would still struggle with explaining what had taken place; it would probably never be completely clear to her.

When Freya awoke, she was still in the dream room, alone. Something had happened to her, something important. She was sure of it. Even so, she didn’t really feel any different. For some reason Freya had expected an instant reaction, some kind of an epiphany maybe, but she felt none the wiser or stronger.

“How are you feeling dear?” A serene female voice filled up the room.

“Who are you?” Freya searched the room with her eyes, to make sure the woman wasn’t sneaking up on her. No one was visible. Even so, Freya remained alert; just because she couldn’t see anything, it didn’t mean that it wasn’t there.

“We have spoken before, don’t you remember?” The woman seemed somewhat amused by the fact that Freya didn’t recognize her.

“It was you? I mean; last time I was here, that was also you?” Freya didn’t much care for people who found her lack of knowledge amusing, but she realized that it would be foolish to argue now. She wanted answers and thought it best to be polite.

“Oh yes, that was me, but I suspect you couldn’t really... define me?” Suddenly a blue mist appeared a couple of feet from were Freya sat. Yellow orbs swirled from the bottom of the mist upwards, and as they did, a woman took form. Freya held her breath. The woman was beautiful. Her long curly brown hair was tied loosely with golden ribbons. Her robes were white with golden seams. Her simplicity made her all the more stunning.

“Who are you?” Freya asked once more, even though she knew the answer. This was her ancestor, ‘Freja’. This was the woman in whose footsteps Freya was meant to walk, it was overwhelming. Freja was a stunning, wise, legendary witch; how was she supposed to follow that?

“Don’t be afraid my child... You will do great things.” Freja smiled and as she did, the room and everything in it was touched by her serenity.

“What should I do now?” Freya needed to be given clear instructions, someone just telling her where to go from here. She didn’t want to face the process of decisions.

“Firstly I want you to celebrate your birthday, I have a feeling you won't have any problem forgetting your troubles for a while.” She smiled secretively. “After that you’ll have time to process everything, Verdante Enron will help you as she once helped me. You won't be seeing me again.” A single tear dropped from her left eye and as it traveled down her cheek it hardened. Pulling out a gold thread from the seam of her robes, Freja hung the tear upon it. “I will always be with you. Never take this off, it will protect and guide you, even if you are not aware of it.” As she said this she placed the necklace around Freya's neck. The next thing she knew the Northern Goddess Freja was gone.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Right before lunch on Thursday the twenty-sixth of November, Freya felt the joy of having a birthday. She had been so stressed out about the whole legacy that she had forgotten all the great things about birthdays. She had gotten a whole pile of presents from her parents, including a couple of small vials for potions and a beautiful, black dragon skin belt to hold her wand. She had also received a letter that made her heart soar; it was from the H.E. telling her that she had been accepted into their study group.

Eliot met her just outside the Great Hall. She had agreed to meet him there the previous day, but he wouldn’t tell her where they were going.

“Are you ready?” His brown eyes were twinkling with anticipation. As he often did when he was showing her something or trying to comfort her, he grabbed her hand and walked slightly in front of her, leading the way.

“Where are we going?” Freya asked, getting more and more excited. Eliot always knew what to do to brighten up her day.

“No where special.” He wore a slight smirk. He seemed to enjoy the fact that Freya was so curious.

They walked hand in hand around the lake until they reached the opposite bank. Freya felt her heart beat faster and harder; everything was so beautiful. And suddenly, she saw it: Eliot had prepared a picnic right under the branches of a birch tree. All of Freya's favourite foods were there: chicken with green pesto, Italian bread, wild berries, black olives and pumpkin juice.

“Eliot... it’s... wow!” Normally Freya had no problem talking to him, but now, her mind seemed not to work as well as usual and her stomach was dancing in circles - or was it her heart?

“I’m glad you like it.” He beamed happily at her. “Sit down, please,” he continued, gesturing towards the green and yellow blanket. Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

They ate all the wonderful food while Freya kept quiet most of the time, letting Eliot do the talking. She didn’t really know what to think. Sure, her stomach had done the occasional flip flop in Eliot's presence in the past too, but not like this.

In her dorm she had sometimes heard the other girls talk about boys. Melandra had been quite graphic describing her first kiss. Back then Freya had thought it sounded less than pleasant, but now, as she sat there on her birthday, after having a great meal, the only thing she could think of was how much she wanted to kiss him.

“Are you alright, Freya?” Eliot had been watching her while she thought of him. She had no idea if he felt the same way and she didn’t have the courage to ask him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Full though... maybe I ate too much.” She smiled at him, feeling stupid for talking about something so superficial.

“Have you noticed the tree?” He suddenly asked. “It’s a birch tree, like your wand. I figured you might feel more... I don’t know... at home maybe or stronger.” He looked at the branches and so did Freya.

As they sat there looking at the wind playing with the leaves, Freya forgot all her worries. If she had Eliot everything would be all right. His hand traveled around her waist, pulling her closer. He leaned in to her and whispered softly:
“Can I kiss you?”

Freya looked at him in the eyes and nodded slightly, feeling scared, happy, excited and in love, all at the same time.


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Well here is the long awaited chapter ten... I really hope it was worth the wait, and I will try not to take as long with the next one...


***Thank you Rebekka for all your help, I would never have finished without you!***


***And of course thanks to my newly found brilliant beta tonksandlupin***


http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com