CHAPTER TWO:
OUT OF REACH

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FREYA MCKINNON'S THIRD FAVOURITE place in the Hogwarts castle was the Great Hall, right behind the Quidditch Pitch (her all-time favourite spot, for obvious reasons) and the Hufflepuff Common Room (which came a very close second.) Eleven-year-old Freya had marveled at the wondrous (but very fake) ceiling for weeks, unable to comprehend the magical phenomenon she was lucky enough to see everyday. She'd never seen anything so beautiful before, so out of this world, used to the simple life she lived with her dad in muggle London where ceilings didn't reflect the sky. She longed to capture it on a camera, freeze its beauty in a frame to look back on when she was much older and no longer in school to see it everyday. Even after seven years at Hogwarts, that childish wonder of hers had never quite faded. Freya was at home whenever she entered the Great Hall for the welcome-back feast, content to be surrounded by the chatter and the laughter, the hovering candles casting a warm glow upon them.

Sitting in the Great Hall now with Solana and their fellow Hufflepuffs beside her, it was hard to believe she'd never be returning for another year. After this, it was time to face the real world. A thought that terrified Freya, but she tried not to dwell on it. If this was her last time returning to Hogwarts as a student, she was going to heed her dad's words and make the most of it.

Starting with a hearty feast, but they'd have to sit through Dumbledore's speech first.

"Impatient, Frey?" Solana chuckled, her leg shaking from Freya's impatient foot tapping.

"Hungry," Freya grunted, tuning out Solana's amusement as she reached into her robe pockets in search of the emergency sweets that she kept with her at all times.

"You and your sweets," Solana scoffed as Freya took out a handful, but she didn't hesitate to accept one when Freya offered them over.

The two girls snacked on the chocolates as they waited for Dumbledore to address them, hiding the shiny gold wrappers under the table when they were done with them. They stopped as Dumbledore rose to his feet, the hall falling silent in respect for him.

"Good evening, children," he began, jumping straight to the announcements. "Now, we have two changes in staffing this year. We are pleased to welcome back Professor Grumbly-Plank, who will be taking care or Magical Creatures while Professor Hagrid is on temporary leave."

Freya and Solana exchanged a confused glance. Where was Hagrid? He never took time away from school. Before either of them could say anything about it, Dumbledore continued.

"We also wish to welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dolores Umbridge. I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing the professor good luck. Now as usual, our caretaker, Mr Filch, has asked me to remind you-"

A high pitched cough came from the teacher's table, effectively interrupting Dumbledore in the middle of his speech. Everyone watched in amazement as a woman dressed head-to-toe in shocking pink rose from the end of the table, making her way over to where Dumbledore stood staring at her impassively.

"Who does she think she is?" Solana gasped along with everyone else, reaching out to squeeze Freya's arm. Freya simply shrugged at her, watching Umbridge with narrowed eyes. There was something about her, and it wasn't the pink aesthetic, that set her on edge.

"Thank you, headmaster, for those kind words of welcome," she preened. "Oh, how lovely it is to see your bright, happy faces smiling up at me. I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends."

Freya glanced around the room, an eyebrow raised at the blank stares Umbridge perceived to be smiles. She suppressed a snort as Solana scoffed, "Was that meant to be a joke?" and turned her attention back to the spectacle Umbridge was putting on.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance," she announced, Freya's eyes following her every move as she paced up and down the teacher's table. "Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and prune practices that ought to be prohibited."

Freya blinked, Umbridge's words going through one year and out the other. "Uh, what was that?"

Solana frowned back, a grim glint in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Her look of amusement had quickly faded, leaving behind an expression of fear that Freya had only seen on her best friend once before; the night that Harry Potter returned with Cedric's dead body. It made her stomach twist nervously.

With one last giggle, Umbridge moved to sit down again, leaving the room silent for a long moment. Then Dumbledore was stepping forward, a forcefully pleasant smile on his face as he encouraged everyone to clap for her, "Thank you, Professor Umbridge, that really was illuminating. Now, Mr Filch would like me to remind you that-"

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Solana muttered, only just loud enough for Freya to hear.

"I don't understand," Freya frowned.

Solana hesitated, eyeing the students around her and the beaming woman that stared down at them. Then, in a voice so soft that Freya almost didn't hear her, she whispered, "It means the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."

Freya's stomach sank. Solana leant away from her, remaining grimly silent for the rest of the feast. The warmth from the candles didn't seem so inviting anymore, sending a flush of heat along Freya's skin that had her shifting around in her seat uncomfortably.

Suddenly, having a good last year at Hogwarts seemed far out of Freya's reach.

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IT WAS LATE THAT same night. Neither Solana or Freya had spoken throughout the rest of the feast, far too immersed in their own thoughts. If the Ministry was interfering at Hogwarts, that meant they really didn't trust Dumbledore. Freya had spent the whole Summer reading Daily Prophet articles that ridiculed him and Harry, that insisted You-Know-Who had not and could not return. She knew they were total rubbish, so did Solana, but not everyone in Hogwarts saw it that way.

Take their dorm mate, Violet Finch, for example. Freya and Solana had returned to their dorm in the same state of silence, finding the two girls they shared the room with were already there. They were hunched over the latest copy of the Daily Prophet, their whispers fading the moment that Freya stepped through the door with Solana just behind her.

"Hey," Freya frowned at them, watching as Violet folded up the paper and tucked it under her pillow.

"Hey, Freya," their other dorm mate, Erica Gold, smiled and waved weakly from Violet's side. The red-haired girl in question was watching Freya with a frown that made her shift uncomfortably.

"Have a good Summer?"

"It was okay," Erica shrugged, her smile suddenly falling. "Mum almost didn't send me back, though."

Solana gaped at her, shocked. "What? Why not?"

"Why do you think?" Violet snapped. The room went silent, Freya and Solana staring in surprise as Erica lowered her gaze. "Potter's been preaching that You-Know-Who is back like a madman and Dumbledore's been eating it up. Any sane parent would think twice about sending their kids back."

Freya and Solana wore identical glares as the latter snarled, "Then why are you here, Finch?"

Violet rolled her eyes, rising to her feet to stare Solana down. "So you believe them then? Why am I not surprised?"

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Solana scoffed, taking a step towards the dark-haired girl.

"Vi, just let it go," Erica pleaded but Violet ignored her as she reached under her pillow for the paper, chucking it at Solana's feet with a scowl. Harry's face stared up at them, blinking warily at a camera. "Vi, please-"

"You believe them, don't you? That You-Know-Who's rose from the dead?"

"He was never dead," Freya muttered without thinking, drawing Violet's fierce gaze towards her.

"Of course you believe him. Your family's always believed in Dumbledore's crap." Freya's eyes narrowed at her, but she didn't have time to say anything as Violet continued. "You'd think they'd have learnt after what happened the first time."

Freya gasped, Solana quickly jumped to her defence. "Don't you dare bring Freya's family into this. Just because we believe in something that's quite clearly happening-"

"He can't be back," Violet protested. If Freya wasn't so annoyed, she would've pitied the poor girl. There was obvious signs of fear in her eyes at the thought of You-Know-Who being out there again. They grew up on the horror stories of the first war. Violet was just another person who was scared to accept a terrifying truth. "Harry, and anyone else who supports him, is lying."

"Why would we lie?" Solana exclaimed, looking ready to throttle Violet. She wasn't a confrontational person in the slightest, but when she was passionate about something, she wouldn't hesitate to speak up.

"You-Know-Who's followers murdered my family," Freya said, looking right into Violet's eyes. The girl swallowed thickly at the stare, at the deadpan statement that lingered uncomfortably in the air. "Why would I lie and say he's back when it was him that took everything from me?"

No one said anything. Violet was staring at the floor now, at Harry's picture in the paper, while Erica sat on her bed with her head in her hands. Solana moved to stand by Freya's side, reaching for her arm, but Freya quickly brushed her off. "I'm going for a walk."

"Now?" Solana frowned in concern. "It's almost curfew."

"I won't be long," she muttered.

The door shut behind her with a quiet click, yet the sound seemed defeaning to Freya's ears. Ignoring the few students who lingered down in the Common Room who turned to frown at her as she left the room, she made her way outside with the walls closing in around her. She just needed one moment, a second to clear her head.

You-Know-Who's followers murdered my family. Why would I lie and say he's back when it was him that took everything from me?

She wasn't sure how long she wandered around, rubbing at the goosebumps on her arms. She regretted not bringing a jumper with her, but the thought hadn't crossed her mind as she fled the room, needing to be away from Violet and You-Know-Who's followers murdered my family. Eventually, she found an empty alcove to sit in, staring out the window at the dark night sky. She could just make out the hoops of the Quidditch Pitch and she immediately took to focusing on them instead of, well, everything else.

She didn't hear the person approaching her until they sat down beside her, knees brushing hers as they squashed themselves into the alcove opposite her.

"George," she blinked at him in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Solana came to find us," he told her. "Told us what happened."

"Oh."

"She would've come to you herself but she seemed pretty upset so I offered," he added, a grim smile tugging at his lips. "Wanna talk about it, McKinnon?"

Freya was quiet for a moment. Did she want to talk about it? No, she decided, and shook her head. "Not today."

"Okay," George shrugged looked out the window, his smile a little less grim than before. "We can just sit here then."

"You're not worried about curfew?" she asked before scoffing when she realised who she was talking to. This was George Weasley. As if he was worried about breaking curfew. "What am I saying? Of course you're not."

"We've already broken it anyway," he chuckled. "So what's the point?"

"Can't argue with that logic," Freya muttered, leaning her forehead against the glass again. They were silent for a long moment but it wasn't uncomfortable. Eventually, her gaze shifted back to George, who seemed happy to just sit there with her. She was grateful, she knew they weren't close, but underneath the pranks and the jokes, George Weasley was a good person. "Thank you, George."

He turned to face her, grinning sheepishly, "It's no problem, Freya."

With that, they turned back to the window, quiet but content.