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!
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.
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.
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.”
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! (…)