CHAPTER FOUR:
LOVE LOST

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FRASER REMEMBERED THE NIGHT he lost everyone he loved with perfect clarity.

It was a warm evening in July. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, casting the tiny town in sleepy shadows, when Fraser McKinnon and Estelle Davies apparated into an empty alley. They were three houses down from Fraser's family home, a two-storey town house on the edge of the village where he grew up with his parents and younger sister. As they stepped out into the street, their three-year-old daughter wriggling in her mother's attentive grip, Fraser remembered feeling as if someone was watching them. Eyes peeking through curtains, watching and waiting. He should've followed his instincts, grabbing Estelle and Freya and disapparating before finding a way to warn his family to do the same. But instead, he ignored the feeling of paranoia, looping his arm around his girlfriend's waist and setting off down the road. Estelle was too busy giggling at the sight of Freya pouting at the feeling of apparation to notice his odd behaviour, running a hand through Freya's light blonde curls with fondness as they stepped up to the front door and let themselves inside.

"Aunty Mar," a young Freya cheered, stumbling over her words at the sight of Marlene McKinnon. Fraser's younger sister had stepped out of the kitchen at the sound of the door creaking, wand in hand and caution in her eyes. You could never be too careful nowadays.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite niece," Marlene beamed, holding out her arms for Freya to waddle into it. Estelle lowered her to the floor, stepping past Marlene's now crouched figure to greet Fraser's parents who were yet to leave the kitchen.

Fraser watched her go before turning back to Marlene; she had picked up Freya and was watching her brother with a smirk that Fraser knew and hated. "Have you got it?"

Hushing her with a furtive glance at the door, he reached into his coat pocket and held up the box, a red velvet cube holding a ring inside. He'd been carrying it around for the past two weeks, trying to find the perfect time to ask Estelle to marry him. They already knew they would spend the rest of their lives together, just them and Freya with the world at their feet, but Fraser wanted to make it official. He wanted Estelle Davies to be Estelle McKinnon, or Estelle McKinnon-Davies if she wished. When Marlene first heard his plan, she'd let out a squeal of delight, a sound she mirrored at the sight of the box that fateful night.

"I can't wait to have a sister-in-law," she whispered, and Fraser hurried to hush her again.

"You won't even have a brother if she finds out this way," he said playfully, causing her to roll her eyes and scoff. Freya was watching them with confused eyes, playing with Marlene's long blonde hair as she babbled away. "I'm just waiting for the perfect moment, alright?"

"Maybe tonight is it," she suggested. Before Fraser could respond, their mother called for Marlene to come help her set the table, voice demanding and leaving no room for her to argue. With a sigh, Marlene stepped towards Fraser, holding out Freya despite her whines. "Take this one up to the play-room. Mum and dad brought her some new toys."

At the mention of toys, Freya immediately burst into giggles, clapping her hands together and begging for her dad to take her to them. With one last glance at his sister who was smiling at Freya, he made his way up the stairs to the room his family had set up for his daughter when they first found out their eldest was going to be a dad. The walls were a bright yellow like the sun setting outside, decorated with painted flowers and animals that never failed to amaze Freya's young brain. He set her down on the hardwood floor, moving to sit on the rocking-chair in the corner when it happened.

The whole house shook with the explosion, Freya letting out a screech as the world spun around them. Fraser immediately raced to pick her up, eyes wide as he glanced from her to the door. He could hear shouts coming from downstairs, the sound of spells being screamed from both his family and unfamiliar voices. It was them, the Death Eaters. They must've seen Fraser and Estelle walking up to the door and revealed the house to them.

"Daddy, I'm scared," Freya whimpered, tears clouding her eyes as she clung to her father's neck. "Where's mummy?"

"It's okay," Fraser soothed, as he ran a hand through her hair. "It's just a game, sweetie."

"A game?" Freya echoed. He nodded.

"I'm gonna go stop them, okay? I'll tell them it's scary." As he spoke, he lowered her down into the play pen. "Just stay here and wait for me, alright?"

Freya whimpered but nodded away, and Fraser was out the door in seconds. Shutting it securely behind him, he crept down the hall with his wand raised in front of him. His heart was beating so loud he was sure they could hear it as he peered around the corner and down the stairs. Travers, a known Death Eater, stood out amongst the group rushing in from the broken down door. He had his wand pointed at Marlene, who was shouting curses at him with a body lying behind her. The sight of his mother, cold and lifeless, had a sob threatening to fall from his lips, but he swallowed it down as he weighed up his options.

There were too many Death Eaters to fight off on their own. Fraser wasn't sure how long it would take for the Order to hear of the attack and send backup, so if he revealed himself and it took them longer than planned, he could wind up dead and they could hurt Freya. But his future wife was down there, his father and sister, the body of his mother.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Estelle met his gaze from across the room. There was resolve in her eyes, understanding passing between them. When Freya was born and they got to see her for the first time, they both made a promise that she would always come first no matter what happened. A Death Eater attack was no exception.

With one last look at his family, at their weakening resolve, Fraser made the hardest decision of his life. Turning on his heel, he rushed down the hallway and into the play-room. Freya hadn't moved from the pen. She had her hands over her ears and a teddy on her lap, which she clung to with fervor as her dad came running over. It was getting quiet downstairs, and Fraser knew it was only a matter of time before they checked the rest of the house for him and his daughter.

"Is the game over? Can we see mummy now?" Freya asked, staring at him with hopeful eyes.

"Not yet," he croaked as he picked her up, holding her like she was his lifeline.

He wasn't sure where to go but he knew he didn't have time to think about it. Settling on the first place that came to mind, he disapparated, landing with a crash in the backyard of the Weasley home. Fraser heard Freya's gasp at the impact, her grip growing impossibly tighter as her dad dropped to his knees. He heard Molly and Arthur rushing out, Freya beginning to cry, but the only thing he could focus on was the rush of tears on his own face, the ache in his chest.

His parents, his sister, the woman he was going to marry, they were gone. And he had left them there to rot.

In the midst of it all, Molly had taken Freya from him and Arthur was shaking his shoulders, eyes wide behind their glasses as he shouted words that Fraser couldn't hear. A distant echo of the house exploding was repeating itself in his head, over and over and over again, and he knew he'd never hear anything else but this for the rest of his life.

In the darkness of night as the sun set completely, the reality of it hit him like a truck. He was alone. He would never hear his sister's laugh again, never watch her baby her 'favourite niece.' He would never give his parents more grandchildren, never go to Quidditch games with his dad or feel his mother's hugs. He'd never marry the love of his life, never see her smile as he got down on one knee and asked her to give him the absolute honour of being her husband. The thought made his sobs get stronger and stronger until he was screaming out in anguish, Arthur's hands moving to his back as he hugged him. They didn't have to ask, they knew something had gone horribly wrong.

Alone. Oh, how Fraser McKinnon despised that word.

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IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE the rest of Hogwarts was privy to the wicked ways of Dolores Umbridge. Just three measly days had come and gone since Freya and the rest of the seventh years had their first lesson with the woman and in that time, Umbridge had somehow managed to bring out the worst in more than just Solana Thomas and the Weasley twins. News of Harry Potter's fight with her the day after Freya's birthday had spread far and wide. It seemed everyone knew about it, from the frustrated words he spewed about You-Know-Who's return, Umbridge's insistence that everything he said was a lie, the week's worth of detentions he'd been given for his so-called attitude. Freya had sat for hours after she found out as Solana paced around in front of her, eyes bright with a fury so fiery that it could've matched the colour of her boyfriend's hair. It was safe to say that Freya shared her feelings on the matter, and apparently, so did Professor McGonagall.

They were only in school for one week, seven days of the school year, and already two teachers were caught in the midst of an argument for everyone to see. It was a Monday morning so Freya was off with the pixies, head resting on Solana's shoulder as the girl in question chattered away with Fred like usual, but her attention was soon caught by the sound of raised voices coming from out in the Entrance Hall.

"Pardon me, Professor, but what exactly are you insinuating?"

"I am merely requesting that, when it comes to my students, you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices."

"Is that McGonagall?" Freya frowned, bleary eyes clearing as she exchanged a wary look with Solana.

"And Umbridge," the dark-haired girl glowered with a sigh. In an instant, she was on her feet and tugging at Freya's robes. "Come on, let's go watch the cat fight."

Freya would've protested had it not been for her own interest. She and the twins followed Solana out of the Great Hall, several other curious students hot on their heels, to find McGonagall and Umbridge facing off on the stairs. Umbridge stood with her nose in the air in her usual hot pink attire, quite the sight for Freya's poor eyes so early in the morning. She scoffed in disgust at the woman, eliciting an amused chuckle from George, who'd stopped beside her as Solana and Fred fought their way to the front where Harry, Ron and Hermione were watching on with anger.

"So silly of me," Umbridge simpered. "But it sounds as if you're questioning my authority in my own classroom." She didn't stop there, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she climbed up a step. In her new position, she was looking down at McGonagall, a bold move against the greatest witch Freya knew.

McGonagall didn't take kindly to the action, nose flaring as she huffed, "Not at all, Dolores." Mimicking Umbridge's tone, she too climbed a stair, eyes narrowed as she challenged Umbridge to make such a mistake again. "Merely your medieval methods."

"I am sorry, dear," Umbridge sighed and shook her head. Freya had a feeling that any pride she had in McGonagall was about to be wiped clean by whatever she said. "But to question my practices is to question the Ministry, and by extension, the Minister himself. I am a tolerant woman, but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty."

The words hung heavy in the air. No one knew what to say, least of all McGonagall, who dropped back down to where she originally stood with pursed lips. If the situation wasn't so serious, Freya knew Solana would be shouting for McGonagall to smack Umbridge silly, but there was something dangerous about a woman who would stop at nothing to bring Dumbledore, Harry and anyone who supported them to their knees. McGonagall knew this, Freya knew this, and so did Umbridge. She wore a look of triumph in her eyes as she turned to stare down at the silent students, a warning on the tip of her tongue.

"Things at Hogwarts are far worse than I feared," she announced. The words echoed from the walls, a piercing shriek in Freya's ears. "Cornelius will want to take immediate action."

Freya wanted to know how a measly Ministry worker was close enough to call the Minister of Magic by his first name, but all she could think about as McGonagall stormed away was how completely and utterly screwed they were. And she was right. In a matter of days, Umbridge was declared the 'High Inquisitor' of Hogwarts by Cornelius Fudge himself. Freya didn't have the faintest clue what that meant, but she knew it was utter bullshit. Still, it gave Dolores Umbridge the power to do whatever the hell she wanted, and that would bring nothing but trouble.