vi. close to me
CHAPTER SIX:
CLOSE TO ME
■ ■ ■ ■ ■
FREYA MIGHT'VE LOOKED LIKE her Aunt Marlene, but she had her dad's passion for Quidditch through-and-through. Finding her love for photography in her mum's own photographs that Fraser had hanging around the house, Freya also inherited his interest and abilities on the Quidditch pitch. At peace in the air carrying her team to a win with the quaffle under her arm, it was the one place where she didn't feel inferior to those around her. She made it onto the team with pure talent. Hell, she was even made Captain this year (bet you didn't see that one coming) though it wasn't exactly a priority with recent events. And as petty as it sounded, Freya didn't have to worry about someone like Solana outshining her when she was on a broom. She loved her friend but Solana was good at everything Freya was not. All except Quidditch. Solana had a fear of heights so overwhelming she refused to go near the windows on the higher floors of the castle. She wouldn't be caught dead playing a game where she didn't have both feet firmly on the ground.
It was through this that Freya really got to know Fred and George again. Joining their respective teams in the same year, all it took was one sly bludger from Fred during their very first game for a friendly (most of the time) rivalry to occur. It reminded Freya of old memories of sunny days in the Weasley yard. Taunting a baby Ron by stealing his teddy bear, playing in the Autumn leaves until Molly found them and went off her rocker, daring each other to get close enough to poke one of the rabid garden gnomes. It wasn't the same anymore, but it was close enough that if Freya closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she could picture a world where they grew up together, where those memories were merely a forgotten yesterday and not a rare someday.
Back to the present, the harsh truth. It was the weekend, and Freya had finally dragged herself out of bed and down to the Great Hall, bleary eyed and exhausted from a jam packed week of intense Quidditch training. Hufflepuff weren't a part of the upcoming game (thank Merlin) but they needed all the practice they could get to go against whoever won between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Freya secretly hoped it would be Gryffindor just so she could begin seventh year how she started her third; competing against Fred and George on the pitch. But Freya wouldn't mind knocking Draco Malfoy and his gang of hooligans down a peg or two. They were weirdly quiet, sticking mostly to themselves, and that was never a good sign.
Fred didn't seem to see it that way, though. As Freya dropped into the seat next to Solana, rubbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper, the first thing he said to her was, "You're going down next month, McKinnon."
Freya just blinked at him, a blonde eyebrow raised sceptically. "Come again?"
Solana just grinned, shaking her head as her boyfriend narrowed his eyes playfully at the blonde girl. "Fred seems to think Gryffindor are gonna win the first match." Now, it made sense.
"I don't think," he scoffed as Freya rolled her eyes. "I know."
"Oh, really?"
"Slytherin just isn't ready for us," he said, awfully confident in a way that was almost too much. "I ran into Flint on the way down and he didn't even look at me. They know they're no match for us."
"Well, that's gonna come back to bite you in the ass," Solana chuckled. "George, tell him not to jinx it."
Tuning in to the conversation for the first time since Freya arrived, George looked up from where he was digging into his plate of bacon and eggs, just shaking his head as he swallowed down a bite of his food. "Don't bring me into this."
Fred glared at him, nudging his side persistently. "Come on, Georgie, back me up here."
"You're ridiculous."
"Ouch," Fred winced, clutching at his chest like her words were bullets. "That's cold, even for you, McKinnon."
Before Freya could bite back with a retort, Solana reached over and smacked him upside the head, adjusting where his hand was placed, "Your heart is this side, bud."
"Did you just 'bud' me?"
Shaking her head at them, Freya spared a shy glance over at George. He was chuckling at Fred's wounded expression, a bit of bacon hanging from his mouth as he finished up his meal. "What about you? You getting ready for the game?"
George grinned at her, shrugging. "Ready as I'll ever be."
"Hm, you don't sound too confident."
"Oh, I don't?"
"Nope," she shook her head, smirking at him over the rim of her mug.
"That sounds like a challenge to me," he said, and leaned back in his seat. "Don't you agree, Freddie?"
Fred, who'd just torn himself away from Solana, grinned cheekily. "Look at lil' McKinnon wanting to step up to the Weasley twins. Just like old times, huh?"
Freya scoffed, lowering her mug and folding her arms across her torso. There was a light pang in her chest; of home, of possibility. No matter how long she'd had to get used to the feeling again, it still managed to shock her every time.
She didn't speak much about what the muggle world was like for her, but if asked to choose one word to describe her childhood, she'd choose the word 'alone' time after time. By no fault of his own, Fraser had isolated them both after everything fell apart. It took him years to even look at anything from the magical world after he lost so much to it, hiding them away in Central London, away from the Death Eaters on one hand, but all of Fraser's and Freya's friends on the other. It was only when Freya's magic started to show properly that he let himself embrace the past again, like an old wound reopened for the first time, just Freya along for the ride. Where Fraser lost his wife, parents, sister, Freya lost her mum, grandparents, aunt, and the only friends she had who didn't look at her like she was a freak when she accidentally made all the crayons float in the first grade. Starting Hogwarts, finding people like her, Fred and George again, was like stepping into an ice bath. The horrible, icy sensation is agony before a strange sense of peace settles the nerves. That morning was another ice bath.
"If a challenge is what you want, I'm down," she shrugged after a moment. "Solana, you in?"
Solana raised an eyebrow, scoffing, "There is no way in Merlin's name I'm going anywhere near a broom." After a slight pause and a smirk, however, she added, "But if we're placing bets, my money's on Frey. Five galleons."
"That's my girl," Freya cheered over Fred's gasp of wounded betrayal. Turning to look at George, who was always watching her with an amused grin, "Find me a partner who won't start screaming the moment their feet leave the floor, and you have yourself a deal, Georgie."
Then, with one last goodbye to a pouting Fred, a scoffing Solana and laughing George, she was leaving the Great Hall behind for class.
■ ■ ■ ■ ■
FREYA'S FAVOURITE FLOWER HAD always been the sunflower, even as a tiny toddler. While a lover of all flowers, there was something about the bright yellow petals that caught her attention and never let go. Maybe it was her mother's fondness for them, or maybe it was that time George picked her one as a kid and presented it to her like a wedding ring, Freya just knew in her heart that sunflowers were a sign whenever she was around. So when she saw the row of them planted just outside the Quidditch pitch later that afternoon, she just knew the game was in her favour, the ball in her court.
"About time you showed up," Fred called out the moment Freya walked onto the field. She was already dressed in her Quidditch jersey, her lucky number three printed on the back, with her cleansweep under arm. All she had to do was drop her bag off to Solana before she joined them.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show, Frey," Solana grinned as the blonde girl wandered up the stands to her. "I have five galleons on you, girl, you better not let me down."
"Please, have you seen who they've partnered me with?" Freya scoffed, earning a snicker in response. Dumping her bag onto the bench beside Sol, who had a Muggle magazine open for when she got bored of watching them, she heaved a heavy sigh. "Right, wish me luck."
"Good luck," Solana cackled. "You'll need it."
Shooting the dark-haired girl once last mocking glare as she went, Freya reluctantly made her way down the stairs and back out onto the pitch. Fred and George were standing side-by-side in their matching Quidditch gear when she arrived, staring her down with the same cheeky grin. Behind them stood Freya's partner for the game, his dreadlocks tied back with a rubber hair-tie he must've stolen from Solana, the same mischievous look in his eyes.
"Hey, partner," Lee Jordan greeted her with a wave. "You ready to win?"
With a deadpan stare, she raised an eyebrow at George, "I thought I asked you for a decent partner?"
Ignoring Lee's indignant gasp, George replied, "Actually, if I remember correctly, you asked me to find someone 'who won't start screaming when their feet leave the floor.'" He stepped aside, gesturing over to Lee proudly. "I found him."
Fred cackled, a wide smirk on his lips as he nudged Freya's side teasingly. "Need five to warm up, talk strategy?"
Shoving his elbow away with a huff, Freya made her way over to Lee, who was still smiling at her in that annoying way of his. "So, how are we doing this, Frey? Should I take offence or defence?"
"Do you even know how to play, Jordan?" she shot him an incredulous look. "And defence, you're shit at offence."
"Uh, of course I know how to play," he insisted, ignoring the rest of what she said. "Why would you ask me that? Do you see who I'm friends with?"
"First year flying lessons, you crashed your broom into the goal posts," she pointed out, gesturing over to the posts in question, which Lee smiled fondly at.
"Ah, good times," he sighed. He quickly snapped out of it, however, when Freya scoffed and swatted at his arm. "Right, okay. Have some faith in me, McKinnon, I'm all you've got here."
"I have Solana." At his snicker, she rolled her yes. "Okay, so maybe you're right."
"I always am, but go on."
"I swear to Merlin, Lee, if you sabotage me..."
"Relax, I won't," he promised. "Anyway, it's just a game."
Freya raised an eyebrow at him, "You and I both know Fred and George will never let me live it down."
By the sudden solemn look on his face, Freya knew she was right. However, before either of them had the chance to say anything else, Fred and George were making their way over to them. Fred had a smug grin on his face as he clapped his hands together, practically bouncing up and down on his heels with excitement.
"So," he cooed. "Are we ready to start?"
Freya sighed, "Let's get this over with then."
Cheering like a little girl, Fred was on his broom and up in the sky in an instant. Lee wasn't far behind him, the two laughing and whispering to each other far up above Freya and George's heads. Just before Freya could follow them, George reached out and grabbed her sleeve.
"Hey, let's just have fun, okay?" he said.
"Oh, for sure," she agreed, a reluctant grin tugging at her lips. "Even though you've totally sabotaged me."
"I did no such thing."
"That's a lie."
"You're right," he laughed. "It is."
Scoffing, Freya mounted her broom and kicked up into the air, George not far behind her as they joined Fred and Lee. The former had the quaffle under one arm and the golden snitch in his other hand, leaving him to perilously balance on his broom as he waited for them. Fred always liked to test the waters, Freya had noticed. Where George, while just as cheeky and mischievous as his brother, didn't have a death wish like his happy-go-lucky brother. Whether it be hovering on a broom with no hands or getting himself into fights with Slytherins, Fred was definitely the more daring brother of the two.
"About time you paused your flirting," he said. Freya narrowed her eyes, a hot blush coating her cheeks, but before she could deny it she was cut off. "Right, so we all know the rules?"
"Not really-"
"Great, let's begin!"
With that, he released the snitch and chucked the quaffle into George's waiting arms. The boy immediately took off down the pitch, winking at Freya's shocked face from over his shoulder.
"Wait, so does that mean I have to look for the snitch at the same time?" Freya shouted out as she raced off after him. Fred was right beside her, Lee rushing ahead to block the hoops that George was hovering around, clearly taking his time as he chuckled the quaffle around leisurely.
"Yep," Fred cackled. "Consider it payback for turning Sol against me."
"Merlin, you're so dramatic," she huffed, though she couldn't help the laugh that followed. She hadn't felt this happy for a long time, definitely not anytime at Hogwarts with Umbridge around. It was nice. "And you're going to lose, Weasley, no amount of cheating can beat me."
Finally appearing behind George's back, she maneuvered above him and grabbed the quaffle from the open air. With only a quick glance at his surprised face, she was soaring off back down the pitch to the open goalposts that Fred was yet to guard. Judging by his panicked shouts behind her, he'd realised the same thing, but by the time he'd reached where Freya was hovering, she'd already shot the ball through the hoops twice and was doing figure-eights around the posts.
"And you say I'm a cheater," he pouted.
"Let's call it even then," she chuckled.
Deciding to give George another chance, she chucked him the quaffle before taking off down the other end where Lee was circling the goalposts like he was seeing a long-lost friend again.
For the first time in a long time, Freya didn't think of Voldemort, or Umbridge, or expectations unmet. She thought of friendship, laughter, a chance to be a teenager. And she savored every second of it.
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