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Chapter Text

Freya St. James examined the beautiful iridescent white scaled surface of the dragon egg she held. Noting the opalescent shimmer of pinks, greens, purples, and blues that shifted with the light as she carefully turned it this way and that. She placed the egg gently in the velvet lined box on her desk top and began to scribble her observations furiously in her notebook. She had already taken a series of measurements utilizing both muggle and non-invasive magical methods. Had this dragon hatched she had no doubt it would have been a stunning creature if it's scales matched it's shell. It truly was a tragedy that this egg had been petrified. 

Her Care of Magical Creatures instructor, Professor Seraphina Rosewood, had acquired the dead egg from an old colleague associated with the Scamander Research Center in New York and Freya lobbied for a full semester to be able to use it as the focus of her fifth year final term independent study. If she did well enough then she'd earn an automatic A for her COMC E.A.G.L.E, her findings could be published, and she'd receive letters of recommendations from her professor, the headmaster, and the research center. She spent hours with the egg every single day for weeks now doing exhaustive research on the topic- from the breed of dragon encased in the stone egg -she guessed it was an Antipodean Opaleye-, the various circumstances and events that could have resulted in it's current state, and come up with sound arguments for every possible moral and ethical angle in the debate for using such eggs in the fields of potion making and medicine.

Finding eggs like this was rare because the mother usually disposed of defective eggs immediately by burning them to ash which served two purposes. Burning the egg with it's mothers fire released it's magical energy which was able to be absorbed by it's siblings so they could become stronger and the essence of the lost would live on through it's family. The ash was then used as additional cushioning for the remaining eggs in the nest. She supposed that there was more than one defective egg in the clutch this egg came from and it was simply buried in the ashes of it's siblings, never hatched, and was forgotten. 

Thus far she had been limited in the type of measurements she was allowed to take to only those that would not cause any damage to the egg as it was meant to be sent off to a museum for display purposes at the end of term. Yesterday, though, she had received a positive response to her request to temporarily remove a few of the protective enchantments so she could take scrapings of the shell for analysis with the caveat that she only take from the bottom so there would not be any visible markings to mar the publics viewing.

She had just completed her standard diagnostics and was gathering the materials she needed to take her sample. She would be conducting the process the muggle way first, so she positioned a microscope, an array of scrapers and files, and several glass slides and mediums. She donned a pair of gloves and reached into the box to remove the egg, positioning it on it's side between two velvet lined brackets so that the bottom was exposed and slightly tilted up. Her goal was to remove a single stone scale completely intact. But given that the petrified egg was several thousand years old at least, she was not sure just how delicate the shell scales would be. She hoped they would not be prone to crumble now that the stasis charms had been removed.

Freya picked up a pair of rubber tipped needle nose tweezers and a very sharp scalpel. She looked at the egg, glanced over her supplies, and took a deep breath to center herself before honing in on the scale she wished to extract.

She tried for a full hour to pry the scale from the egg to no avail. Her efforts were utterly useless having not even managed to leave a single scratch on it. At least she need not worry about causing any damage as the delicacy of the thing was no longer in question. It was practically indestructible, at least as far as she could tell by muggle means short of chucking it at the wall. Time to try some magic.

She should have stopped for the day then. According to protocol, she should have taken a detailed record of every single method and tool she used thus far with the results and any observations she made through the process. She should have turned off her muggle sound recorder, cleaned up her workspace, put away the egg in it's spell secured box, locked up the lab, and gone straight to her Head of Houses office to floo home for the holiday since she stayed an extra day past the other students to conduct her experiment. Once she got home she should have spent a few hours to transcribe her audio notes into her written records. She should have had dinner with her parents and taken a long hot shower to wash away the days failures. She should have gone to bed and woken up the next day to start wading through all the red tape she needed to get through in order to file an official request to use magical methods on the egg to acquire her sample. She should have begun writing up a detailed proposal outlining her next steps for the counsel at the research center to approve and then continued work on the endless line of potions theories spinning out from her overly creative mind.

Honestly, she probably could have turned her single term study into a lifetime career with the sheer volume of potential involved in this niche area of magical science. It baffled her that no one else in the entire wizarding world had thought to make any sort of valuable contribution. There was next to no knowledge available on the subject and what little was published was purely conjecture with zero evidence to back up some of the, frankly ridiculous, claims. 

But she didn't do what she should have done. Despite her incredible intelligence and emotional maturity, she was still just a 16 year old girl, a fact that most of the adults in her life all to often forgot. They had gotten used to holding her to the standard of excellence that she set for herself since first year. They trusted that her usually unimpeachable judgment and calm disposition would prevail in almost any situation given her track record under pressure. They did not foresee that the pressure would build. All the little annoyances and inconveniences she put up with from her peers, her parents, her professors etc, would add up. Keeping up with all of her regular classes on top of studying for her EAGLEs, and her egg research. All the long hours, the isolation, and the lack of an outlet for her frustrations (since she had to quit quidditch to make time for her independent study this semester) would lead her to this moment. 

Instead of doing what she should have done, she raised her wand and cast a very mild targeted severing charm at the scale she'd been working to remove for the last hour. Her very logical brain knew it wouldn't harm the egg given the information she had amassed during her previous tests and the time she just spent becoming intimately acquainted with the indestructible qualities of its shell. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the magic she just sent at the egg was the equivalent of a soft brush of her fingers over it's surface. She knew that a hundred or more other witches and wizards had cast a thousand other spells at it since it's discovery and subsequent journey from it's excavation site in the Hollyford valley of New Zealand as it passed through various ministries, laboratories, and offices there before sailing across the Pacific ocean and going through the process all over again stateside before landing in the archive vaults of the Scamander Research Center where it sat for four years gathering dust before some chairman on the board at the Magical Nature Museum decided to drag it out for a new display. And not even as the main attraction, but rather as a bit of filler décor for a secondary or tertiary piece in the exhibit.

She knew all this, and in spite of her absolute certainty that her actions would result in nothing but perhaps her feeling a tiny bit less frustrated, she watched almost in slow motion as the soft pink light of her charm made contact with the egg and it responded with a veritable explosion of magic that rolled outward in a shockwave that threw everything around it at least twenty feet away. 

For Freya, being tossed twenty feet through the air meant her head colliding with the stone wall at the far end of the classroom and losing consciousness the moment the eggs defensive magic struck her at chest level and pulsed through her body. It all happened so quickly that she didn't even have time to do more than widen her eyes as the feeling of shock at what was happening began to form in her mind.

***

The classroom wards blared alarms through the air and Seraphina Rosewood rushed into the room. She took in the destruction and the obvious radius around the egg clear of debris before finding her pupil collapsed against the back wall. She cast a simple diagnostic even as she scurried toward her charge, hitting her knees and breathing a sigh of relief as the charm informed her that Freya St. James was merely unconscious and not dead as she appeared to be, covered in lacerations and her head bleeding profusely. Professor Rosewood cast a body bind to prevent any unnecessary jostling that could aggravate the girls injuries and levitated her out of the classroom and through the empty halls to the infirmary where she was met by the headmaster and the school medi-witch. 

"What has happened, Sera? The wards informed me of a rather large explosion of magical energy in the southwest quadrant." The headmaster began while she passed Freya over to be examined. 

"I'm not sure, Furnell. When I arrived the classroom was in absolute shambles and Freya was knocked out cold. For a moment I thought she was dead!" She turned to the medi-witch, "How is she Alora?"

"Well she's certainly not dead." Alora replied as she studied the advanced diagnostic projected into the air above her prone patient. "She's got a rather nasty cut on her head, a concussion for sure, and several skin deep lacerations. But no broken bones and nothing she won't fully recover from. Once I heal her wounds and clean her up she'll be sore and have a headache from hades but a few potions aught to set her right." Alora pronounced as she banished the diagnostic and set to examining Freya's head wound. 

"Are you sure? There was just so much blood!" Sera explained. She was clearly shaken and terrified for her student. Furnell clasped a comforting hand on his colleagues shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. 

"I'm sure Alora is correct, Sera. Young Freya is in good hands. Let us go assess the classroom so we might better understand how this happened. We must be able to explain the situation to her parents and I'm sure the Scamander Center was notified as we were when the strength of the magic expelled far exceeded the limits they placed on the enchantments they set. We must be prepared to meet them all with answers." Furnell began to steer Seraphina out of the infirmary and Alora was able to focus entirely on her patient. 

***

She didn't lie exactly, but Alora Vane was leaving out information in her attempt to prevent undue panic. Freya's head injury was much worse than she let on. The girl had a sizeable fracture in her skull  as well as the surface cut. However it didn't bear mentioning in the moment since even as she was observing the diagnostic she cast, the scan began to change to reflect self healing magic that should not have been possible. By the time she catalogued all the other slashes and bruises and began to formulate a plan of care, the fracture had all but vanished leaving only the surface wound behind which began to stitch itself together as she watched. She was glad when the headmaster took Sera away because she certainly wouldn't be able to explain if they had noticed the child healing herself while she was unconscious.

Alora did not need to cast a single spell other than a scourgify to clear the blood away and the occasional diagnostic to monitor the healing progress. Still, she retrieved several potions from her stores just in case. There was a Blood Replinisher, a Dreamless Sleep, some Essence of Dittany, Bruise Paste, a headache draught, and also a Concussion Concoction (which she had plenty of given the number of quidditch players that came in with head injuries every year). She lined up the labeled vials and bottles neatly on the bedside table and pulled up a chair to sit beside her patient and watch over her. She diligently documented the self healing process in her patients private and warded chart and when it appeared to be complete she checked her over once again and was more than satisfied, though thoroughly baffled, with what she found. 

***

Furnell and Seraphina hurried through the castle to the ruined classroom and when they got there the Headmaster entered first. He cast a series of spells to detect any potentially harmful energies that might remain after such a forceful expulsion of magic, and content that nothing within would hurt them, the castle, or the egg he carefully picked his way through the carnage toward the egg which seemed to be at the epicenter of the damage. There was a hum in the air, and what appeared to be a fine layer of magical residue over everything in the room. The egg itself, which he had the pleasure of inspecting upon its arrival at the school and which once appeared to shimmer dully, was now far more vibrant in its array of shifting colors. 

"Fascinating." He murmured. With his hands clasped behind his back, he bent to get a closer look. Seraphina poked her head through the doorway and seeing that Furnell was unharmed moved to join him. 

"Gracious! Do you think the egg did all this?" She asked. "I don't understand how that could be possible. It's completely petrified! Do you know how long it takes for an object to turn to stone like this? Thousands of years, Furnell! They ran a full battery of tests when it was first discovered and came up with absolutely zero magical signature. What on earth could Freya have done to have provoked such a reaction after it being dead for all that time?" Sera was oscillating rather quickly between confusion and excitement at how this could have happened and what it could mean if indeed the egg did somehow contain such magic, concern for her student, anger that her charge was hurt at all but also could have caused a major issue with the castles structural integrity as well as damaged an artifact worth over a million dragots (probably at least ten times more now that it was practically pulsing with energy), and overall shock. Her mind was whirling and Furnell could tell she was very close to panic given the way she was prattling on and spouting out a hundred different theories a mile a minute. He straightened and began cleaning the room. He cast spells to vanish the char on the stone, mend broken furniture, and banish anything that he felt wasn't worth charming or transfiguring back, like the several dozen glass test tubes and beakers that were pulverized in the blast and now lay currently scattered over the floor like so much sparkling sand. 

"I'm not sure what happened here, Sera. It seems we will not know until Miss St. James wakes up and can tell us her version of the events that unfolded here. As for now it has become painfully obvious to me that she is indeed very lucky to be alive." Furnell spoke, during the pause in Sera's speech that was necessary for her to breathe, as he examined the wards on the room and set to reinforcing them here and there. It seemed to him that young Freya should have sustained immensely more damage to her person than what she miraculously came away with. "How long did it take you to get here after the alarm wards sounded?" He asked.

His colleague was brought up short by the question which interrupted her renewed tirade halfway through a sentence about how she had somehow failed as a professor to protect her student from harm, which in Furnell's opinion was completely ridiculous given that no one could have anticipated anything even remotely like this ever happening. It was so far outside the realm of possibility, even for magical standards, that it was absurd. 

"It's five minutes to get here from my quarters, which is where I was grading papers when I felt my personal protective enchantments on the lab were broken and the alarm wards were triggered. I had them arranged so that I could tell the severity of any number of potential accidents. For example if Miss St. James had simply cut her hand, the alarms would register as a low buzzing sound in my mind. I'm sure you can understand my concern then when they started waling so loudly I was rendered practically deaf to all else." She explained.

"Yes, the castle was quite adamant that something was wrong and I should attend to it immediately. This old building can be very pushy when she wants to be, you know." He replied. She nodded vaguely, taking in the room that looked almost as good as new. "Well now! I do believe I should summon Freya's parents. Would you send an owl to the research center?"

"And what exactly am I supposed to tell them Furnell?! 'Oh hello, your million dragot petrified dragon egg only caused a minor explosion that nearly blew an entire classroom to smithereens and killed a student in the process, but not to worry it's perfectly safe and intact. No need to send anyone out this way!' I mean really Headmaster, I don't think they'll be satisfied with that!" She admonished. 

"Alright Seraphina, don't fret. You send for the parents and I'll take care of the rest." He replied before sweeping away in a billow of robes and leaving her to stand alone in the center of the room completely aghast. She crossed her arms and dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling muttering about frustrating wizards before centering herself with a deep breath and heading toward her office to floo call Matthew and Claire St. James.

Chapter Text

WARNING: GRAPHIC SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER.
Enjoy you bunch of sluts <3

The first thing Freya noticed when she began to wake was the pain. It was like flames, licking at the edge of her consciousness. She felt like her blood had been replaced by molten fire and it was scorching through her veins with a fury. Her entire body was burning with it. Gold and orange sparks flickered and danced across her blacked out field of view. When she became more aware, she realized the light was actually the soft buttery glow of the morning sun filtering in from the floor to ceiling windows of the hospital wing at school and the shadows cutting through the glow were just the people moving around her bed. Her vision was fuzzy and when she tried to open her eyes more fully the room began to spin so she squeezed them shut again and tried to focus on the sounds around her instead. The unintelligible buzz slowly resolved itself into individual voices and when she honed in on one she could make out the words being spoken over her head.

"How long is she going to stay like this, Madam Vane? It's been days, shouldn't she have woken up by now?" This coming from a woman that sounded like her mother. 

"Well Mrs. St. James," Yes. Definitely her mother, then.

"Freya's injuries are all completely healed now. However, whatever caused the blast in the lab also severely depleted your daughters magical core. It will take some time for her body to recover from that, and while I know it sounds scary, I want to assure you there should be no lasting damage from that. In fact my diagnostics show that her core capacity has expanded significantly from her previously recorded cap level. She just needs rest." This from the school medi-Witch, which would make sense if she was in the hospital wing. She just didn't understand how she got there.

The last thing she remembered was being in the lab entirely too frustrated with her lack of progress and the next moment was just black. What had happened to her? How had a mere whisper of a slicing hex depleted her magical core and knocked her out flat? What the hell kind of enchantments or wards had the research center put on that ruddy egg? She realized the only way she was going to get answers was to wake up and ask the necessary questions. 

She took a moment to get her thoughts in order and felt her mother beside her take her hand and squeeze. She tried to return the gesture but she couldn't move. She tried to wiggle her fingers, twitch her toes, open her mouth to speak, but nothing happened. She could feel her eyes darting back and forth behind her lids and she thought back to that initial moment of awareness when she opened her eyes the tiniest bit. She tried to crack them again, but couldn't even manage that. She felt trapped.

She knew she was close to panicking so she took a second to reign herself in and focus on her body. She was breathing evenly and her heart rate was normal. All her muscles were sore like she'd spent the whole day running quidditch drills and forgot to stretch after, but the burning feeling had faded into a dull sort of warmth more akin to being wrapped in a blanket in front of the fireplace on a crisp evening. Like Madam Vane told her mother, she seemed fine on the surface, but something on a deeper level was off. She felt different somehow. She retreated further into herself to examine her magical core and it certainly did feel bigger, like a deeper well, capable of holding more magic than before, but that wasn't it. It was like the tone of her magic had changed. What was once a single note was now a series of interwoven chords. Like if she had been a voice humming a tune a cappella before, now there was the deep and smooth bass of a cellist accompanying her. 

It was like meeting her magic for the first time all over again. It was still hers, but it felt completely new. In her mind she waded into the pool of her magic and floated on the currents reacquainting herself with it, feeling the shifts and eddies, evaluating how it flowed around her and through her, becoming one with herself again.  When she finally felt balanced and at peace Freya slowly receded back into her body.

While her mind and spirit were at ease, Freya’s body felt overly sensitive as she tried to adjust physically to the overwhelming magic inside her. The pain had shifted into new sensations. She felt everything so intensely. Each of her senses seemed magnified by a thousand. It was like she could feel every particle of cool air in the infirmary like a horde of tiny mouths peppering gentle kisses over her exposed face and neck. She felt the rasp of the blanket, flimsy hospital gown, and her knickers over her skin like a million little shocks. The taste of her magic on her tongue was as sweet and heady as Amortentia was said to be. It rushed through her veins lighting her up from the inside out.

She shifted at the initial onslaught and the blanket slid an inch, sending pleasure zapping through every point of contact against her. Her nipples peaked and scrapped against the fabric of her gown, straining for more. Her bare arms and legs tingled with the electric charge. Her thighs clenched and the pressure of her knickers against her core caused a rush of heat to pool in her center and flood out of her, soaking the gusset of the simple white cotton fabric.

Freya couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from her lips. It came from deep in her chest and was edged with pain. Just that tiny bit of friction over her skin was making her unbearably hot. It was too much. She threw off the blanket and gasped as the air rushed over her, planting cooling kisses over her flushed body. She opened her eyes to find herself alone and thank the gods for that because she had to do something about all of these overwhelming feelings building up insider of her begging for release.

Freya looked down the length of her body and gasped again, not from pleasure, but at the sheer shock of what she could see now with her over powered eyesight. A beautiful golden glow radiated from her skin in swirls of glittering light made of pure magic. Directly across from her she could see the sun rising from a window and the light, sparse though it was, was enough to see every single detail of the room quite vividly. She could see the myriad wards and enchantments imbued into the stone of infirmary walls over the years, each a different color. The various hues and shades pulsing with higher and lower levels of power depending on the charm or spell. The walls were a vibrant rainbow of powerful layers of magics meant for protection, to aid in healing, to keep the infirmary sterile and prevent the spread of illnesses. The curtains around her bed shimmered pale green with the privacy charms woven into them. The blanket she had thrown off glowed the dull orange of the warming charm someone, probably one of her parents, had cast over it. The potions on her bedside table shimmered some more faintly than others. Her wand beside them, which she thought would be bright with magic, was curiously dim. Freya reached out to pick it up and marveled as the wood lit up as it connected with her ready to channel her will.

The rush of power still felt so different from her own and made the magic just under the surface of her glowing skin pulse and a throbbing feeling began to spread through her. Freya’s hand tightened around her wand and her other flew to grasp the bottom hem of her gown in a vice grip. Her eyes shut and her breath hitched in her throat as her fingers made contact with the skin of her outer thigh and a jolt of pleasure shot through her. She pulled her knees up to plant her feet into the mattress, her hips involuntarily thrusting and her back arching off the bed as the first orgasm ripped through her body.

Instead of coming down from the climax, she panted, her body burning with her passion. In an attempt to cool herself she vanished the hospital gown and her underwear at once to bare her flushed naked skin to the light wind she conjured, which turned out to be a very bad idea as she felt the breeze washing over her like the touch of several lust filled lovers. Freya’s unintentional magic flowed into her wand as she continued to grasp it, and it responded to her emotions directing the energy into heightening her pleasure, pushing her higher and higher. She keened when the current of air brushed over her breasts and circled around her nipples. Her legs fell open when the breeze spiraled around her thighs to tickle at her swollen nether lips. Freya’s fingers moved to spread herself open and expose her clit for the questing wind to tease. She came again, and still she wanted more.

Freya wanted to be filled. She wanted to feel the warm weight of a hard cock thrusting into her with abandon. She wanted to feel strong hands grasping her hips and pulling her hair, she wanted fingers plucking her nipples and stroking her clit, she wanted a mouth and tongue laving over her skin and kissing her lips. She wanted to be well and truly fucked.

The foreign magic coursing through her wand felt her need and responded accordingly. While it was impossible for her to conjure a real and fully corporeal partner out of thin air, she could create a spectre and her magic could make it coalesce in the spots the spectre touched her and make it feel as though she was being handled by a flesh and blood person. The new power latched onto the idea and she felt it moving inside her, separating from her original magic, building up and overflowing from the well in her core to pour from her wand to take on a life of its own.

Freya’s eyes snapped open when she felt a hand stroke her cheek. The ghostly figure hovering over her was beautiful, though not fully tangible. A manifestation of the extra power she had absorbed. He had eyes that shone with swirling magic, pale white hair that fell around his face and neck, plush lips, high cheekbones and a strong jaw, broad shoulders and defined muscular arms. His skin shimmered with a faint pattern she couldn’t quite make out. His chest and abs were chiseled to perfection and she reached up to run her fingers over the bumps and ridges but her hand passed through the image like it was made of smoke. Freya frowned as it seemed that while he could touch her and it felt real, she could not feel him in return.

His fingers traced a path over her face from her temple down to her jaw, drifting under her chin to lift her face so he could kiss her soundly. His mouth felt divine on hers, his tongue darting out to swipe over her lips before sucking hers into his mouth and then nibbling on her bottom lip. His hands swept up her sides, trailing static over her ribs before he palmed her breasts, massaging the supple mounds, pulling and pinching the tight pink buds of her aching nipples. The static tickled and Freya writhed beneath him, her hips rising off the bed to meet his. The naked length of his cock sizzling with electricity as it slid easily through her slick lips, bumping her clit with every pass back and forth.

She groaned, frustrated because she wanted so badly to be able to grasp his hips and pull him into her, but she couldn’t since her hands would only pass through his insubstantial body. Instead she raised them over her head, threading them through the bars of the headboard and locking herself there with a firm two handed grasp on her wand. If Freya couldn’t touch him, then she would submit herself fully to the magic of the spectre and allow him to pleasure her however he could.

As a manifestation of magic, and she strongly suspected this was not hers,  the spectre couldn’t speak, but his mouth quirked up in a devilish smirk and he leaned down to kiss her softly. His lips moved from her mouth to her cheek, over her jaw and down her neck. He spent some time nibbling at her throat and Freya knew that if he were a real man, then he’d surely leave a mark there and that’s exactly what she thought he was trying to do. The swot inside her made a mental note to check for one when they finished because this was the most complex magic she’d ever experienced and she couldn’t help wanting to catalogue the whole thing for future study. Understand exactly how this magic was intertwined with hers.

When he was satisfied with her neck he moved downward, trailing kisses over her collarbones before biting at her breasts. Again, if he was real then she’d have bite mark shaped bruises for sure. His mouth closed over her right nipple and he sucked hard for several minutes before pulling off with a pop and doing the same to the other. He kept heading south and when he was level with her hips his hands came up, sliding over her legs before encouraging them to rest over his shoulders which felt solid as he moved into position. He nuzzled into her inner thighs, alternating between soft nips and kisses on the sensitive stretch of skin between her thighs and her core.

Freya was absolutely feral at this point. Her super charged senses just couldn’t handle all of his teasing and she caught herself trying to hump his face in her fervor, but he held her hips down so she couldn’t move. She begged and pleaded for him to give her more.

“Please, please! Oh, fuck I need more. Please just fucking suck my clit already, Merlin! I can’t take this anymore! Please...Plea...” She cut off when the spectre finally grazed her clit with his mouth in the sweetest, softest kiss. She moaned loudly when he gently clamped the tender bud between his teeth and pulled.

“Fuuuuuuck, yes!” She cried. He released her clit and laid several sucking kisses around it before licking directly over it making her arch and throw her head back, a guttural sound rumbling through her chest and she came for the third time.

“Fingers.” She rasped. “I want to feel your fingers inside me.” The spectre complied and his left hand released her hip and slid down to pet her cunt. He circled his fingers over her abused flesh then slipped them down to her entrance. He teased her, pressing only the tip of one finger into her needy hole. When she tilted her hips trying to force the digit more deeply into her, his right hand moved, gliding across her flat tummy and he pressed her down into the mattress. With his forearm banded over her hips she was secure and his fingers dug into her skin at the same time he gently bit her clit in a clear warning to behave.

Freya whimpered, practically crying as she teetered helplessly on the brink of another orgasm. She was desperate for him to get her there and was slowly losing her mind as he continued to torture her with this edging. A litany of pretty little sighs and moans and pleases fell from her lips as he worked her over with a single long finger. In and out, shallow thrusts gradually deepening, massaging the spongy spot on her front wall that elicted a slew of delightful mewling pants from her.

At last he added a second finger and then a third, picking up the pace of his thrusts until he was truly fucking her hard. She was starting to feel the stretch when he added yet another finger and started to spread them from within as he tried to make room inside her for his entire fist.

“Ungh, yes! Give it to me, please. I want it. Ungh, FUCK!” She screamed as his fist pressed slowly into her cunt. His hand was halfway inside her when Freya came again, her gushing release unable to escape while she was so thoroughly plugged up. Her walls clamped down hard on his hand preventing him from pressing deeper until she relaxed. When she did he brought his head down so he could pepper light kisses to her clit. He paused, allowing her to come down before starting again and pushing his hand further inside of her inch by inch until he was wrist deep, all the while he lavished her bundle of nerves with soothing licks of his broad tongue.

When the tips of his fingers nudged up against her cervix he began to pull out. The drag of the exit was thrilling and Freya let out a sound of disappointment at the loss until he filled her again and again and again. He fisted her gently at first, the sound of him pulling out and thrusting back in squelching obscenely in her ears as he picked it up a notch. Not moving any faster but pulling out slowly before thrusting back into her hard. The forceful punch into her cunt, the pause as he pressed his fingers against her cervix, the torturously slow drag of his hand leaving the depths of her body had her cumming again twice before he relented and the sixth time she came he withdrew completely and watched her release squirt out of her in floods, soaking the bed completely beneath her.

Freya was spent. Her arms ached from keeping them so tense gripping her wand through the headboard so she let go with one hand and lowered them to rest on her stomach. She kept her eyes closed and sucked in lungful's of air. She felt the spectre release her hips and her legs dropped, falling bonelessly open. She lay there sprawled out, entirely exposed until she caught her breath. When she felt better she opened her eyes to take stock of the situation. The spectre was gone, vanished back to the ether. She took a moment to examine her magic and felt it when the foreign power receded back into the well of her core. It was quieter now, resting, but still there. An undercurrent supporting her magic, flowing through and around hers so seamlessly that she knew no one else would register it as anything but her own.  Her skin was still glowing but only slightly more than one does after a long holiday under the sun.

She raised her hand to her neck and winced a little as she pressed a finger into the tender spot the spectre had sucked into her throat. Apparently the wild magic could leave marks. She cast a healing charm over the mark and looked down to find bite marks on her breasts and finger shaped bruises on her hips. She healed those as well and when they vanished she summoned a fresh hospital gown, scourgified her essence from her thighs and the sheets, and replaced her wand on the bedside table.

She sat up to put the gown on and when the insides of her legs rubbed against each other she winced again. Freya spread her legs and looked between them, gently trailing her fingers over the love bites on her inner thighs. She would leave these unhealed. She rather liked the thought of being able to feel them there. Of having evidence that this was real. That it happened and wasn’t just an unhinged dream. 

She laid back down and pulled the blanket up to her neck before she had a thought. She let her hand drift down to her center and trailed a finger up her slit and through her lips, cataloguing how she felt. Her labia was puffy, her clit was sore and just grazing it was enough to make her suck in a breath and bite her lip. She was so intensly sensitive still, but that had less to do with the influx of magic and more to do with the pounding she received from the spectre. She slipped her finger back down and dipped it inside, swirling it around and prodding at her swollen walls and g-spot. She couldn’t reach her cervix otherwise she would have checked that as well.

Freya didn’t understand it, but with just a few gentle touches she felt herself grow wet again. She wondered just how many orgasms in a row she was capable of so she kept touching herself. Her other hand wandered up to her breasts and she lightly brushed her fingers over a nipple, pinching it through the fabric of the gown. Freya plunged her middle two fingers into her pussy and curled them up to press into her g-spot while the heel of her palm pressed into her clit. She only needed to gently rock her hips into her hand a few times before she came again. This last orgasm pushed her into unconsciousness and she drifted to sleep on a wave of bliss.

***

When she woke her mother was there asleep in the chair to her left. Apparently Freya had spent so much energy, magical and physical, being fucked at sunrise that she’d needed the entire day to recover. She could see the stars and a full moon shining brightly in the sky through the window across the aisle from her bed. She heard the large infirmary doors to her right open and turned her head to see her father enter, blowing steam off the surface of a coffee in a large paper take out cup. She smiled when he looked up and saw her finally awake in her bed. He rushed over and plopped the cup down on the bedside table, the rich brown liquid sloshing over the side and soaking into a copy of the New York Ghost. Her father subscribed to both runs of the daily print but preferred the Sunrise over the Sunset edition. 

He reached over to brush her hair off her forehead and smoothed his knuckles over her cheek. She leaned into the touch and watched as his eyes turned misty before he spoke.

"You gave us quite the scare, young lady." He said.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I don't know what happened. Have they told you guys anything? Am I in trouble? Did the egg get damaged?" Freya fired off the questions, her curious mind desperate to start putting the pieces together. Her mother stirred where she slept but didn't wake.

"They haven't been able to tell us much, darling. I'm not sure they really understand what happened. They seem pretty confused and I think they were hoping you might be able to shed some light on the situation." 

"But.."She began, but her father held up a hand, cutting her off before she could get started.

"Not tonight, darling. It's very late and we could all use the rest. Your mother and I haven't slept properly in three days and I only just coaxed her into sleep a few hours ago. Had to slip a bit of dreamless sleep into her tea, but that's just between you and me." He winked at her and smiled fondly at his wife who let out a little grumbly sort of snore before shifting in her chair.

"Now that I know you're alright I can sleep peacefully, at least for a little while. We'll talk more in the morning and I'm sure we'll all get some answers when the Headmaster and Professor Rosewood come in to see you tomorrow. I know we're all very curious to get your perspective on the incident, and I know you have a million questions. For now just go back to sleep, alright?" He pulled the blanket further up around her shoulders and leaned back to get comfortable in the plush armchair he must have transfigured at some point during their vigil over her. He closed his eyes before she could protest and that was the end of it.

He must have been truly exhausted because he fell asleep almost immediately. Freya thought that after spending apparently three whole days knocked out she would have been quite well rested by now. However, it was becoming obvious to her in the moment that being unconscious is not the same thing as sleeping soundly. She decided to follow her fathers advice and get some rest. After all, she needed to be in top form tomorrow if she wanted to figure out what happened to her. So she snuggled down into the blanket, adjusted her pillow, closed her eyes and allowed the world around her to fade away. 

***

The next morning, really just a few hours later, Freya woke to the feeling of her mothers hands in her hair. The older witch was gently untangling the knots she found with wordless wandless magic, her nimble fingers carding through the soft waves of mahogany locks her daughter inherited from her.

Freya rolled over onto her back to smile up at her mum. 

“Hello, love.” Claire sighed the greeting as she exhaled, her relief visible in the way her shoulders sagged on the breath, the tension draining from her body along with the fear that had been an ever present weight in her heart threatening to crush her since she answered Professor Rosewoods floo call four days ago. “I’m so glad you’re alright. You had us very very worried.” 

“Where’s dad?” Freya asked. She rose to sit against the headboard, Claire mirroring the movement and fluffing the pillows up behind her daughters head and adjusting the blankets when they slipped. 

“He’s just outside speaking to Headmaster Pope. Your father told him that you woke up last night and he’s come to talk to you about what happened.” Claire replied as she waved her wand in a series of patterns. Freya felt the magic of her mums freshening charms wash over her. Her hair was swept back into a neat french braid, the slightly musty smell she had developed after a few days without a shower vanished in a jasmine scented breeze, and her mouth tasted of fresh mint.

“Best I can do until we can get you home. I thought you’d like a few moments to gather your thoughts and put yourself together before you met with anyone.” Her mum handed over a pile of clean clothes and stood to close the curtains around her daughters bed so she had some privacy to change, though Freya suspected it was just an excuse so the woman could wipe the tears from her eyes without being seen. Claire loved her child deeply, but outpourings of emotion were not the done thing when she was growing up back in England. Her own parents were staunch believers in the idea of maintaining a stiff upper lip at all times and they drilled it relentlessly into their daughters head from a very early age. 

“I’ll go an tell them your up. Be right back.” she said and Freya heard her dainty footsteps retreating and the big oak doors at the front of the wing creak open, the murmur of several voices filtering through.

Freya got out of the bed and stretched. Her hands reached up over her head while she arched her back and looked at the ceiling, then she dropped her arms and swung them back and forth across her body a few times while shaking out her legs. She finished up by twisting her spine from left to right and cracking her stiff neck. 

While her mind was wired and whirring, her body felt tired and slightly heavy. Almost like her bones had become slightly more dense or like she was wearing a particularly heavy cloak. However, there was no pain and she was grateful for that. 

She got dressed and hung the hospital gown she had been wearing over the footboard just beside the hooks her chart was attached to. She was curious and thought reading through the record might provide her some insight into the incident that put her here, so she plucked up the clipboard and flipped open the front cover of the folder. There was the shimmer of a privacy charm blurring the page but it cleared up quickly and she assumed that she was only allowed access because the charm recognized that the information it was protecting belonged to her. 

She sat cross legged on the middle of the bed, but before she could read anything beyond her diagnosis of magical exhaustion and her initial injuries, she heard the doors open again and several people talking as they moved toward her. Freya leaned forward and replaced the chart, sitting back just as a voice spoke on the other side of the privacy curtain.

“Miss St.James, are you decent? May I come in?” Madame Vane asked, and when Freya answered in the affirmative, she swept the curtain aside just far enough to come through before whipping it closed behind her.

“Hello, dear. You’ve got several visitors and I’d like to check you over before I allow them all back here.” The Medi-witch waited for Freya’s permission before casting a standard diagnostic spell over her patient. She hummed a bit and prodded the readings in a few different spots with her wand before reaching for Freya’s chart and adding a few notes to the documents. Then she banished the spell and turned to look at the girl.

“How are you feeling? Any pain, nausea, headache etcetera?” Madam Vane inquired.

“I’m alright. No pain or anything. My body just feels a little heavy and tired, but I know that's a normal side effect of magical exhaustion.” She answered. Madame Vane smiled at her.

“I should have known you’d figure out what was wrong with yourself before I could explain it to you.” She shook her head. “Been reading up on medical magic in your spare time, have you?”

“No, ma’am.” Freya laughed. “I saw it in my chart right before you came in.” She admitted a bit sheepishly. Madam Vane’s eyebrows rose into her hairline.

“You read your chart?” She asked. She sounded surprised but Freya didn’t understand why that would be so shocking.

“Not really,” she said. “I only had time to scan the first three lines. I couldn’t help myself. You know how curious I am.” She defended. Madam Vane only nodded and hummed a skeptical acknowledgement. 

“Well, we can discuss that later. Right now I’m going to let in your parents and Professor Rosewood.” Alora turned and pulled the one way sound proof curtains aside and scarcely had time to move before the aforementioned professor swept in. 

While her parents expressed their relief in a quiet and steady sort of way, Seraphina Rosewood was all bluster. She was a fluttery and high-strung woman, a worrier in the most endearing  and gentle kind of way. Her anxiety did not however, lend itself to paranoia, nor was it expressed through nagging. Instead Professor Rosewood was a formidably prepared witch. She had plans and contingencies for any problem that could possibly arise in a given situation. Which is the foremost reason she was so distraught over her students injuries. The Headmaster tried to tell her that she could not blame herself as there was no way anyone could have foreseen such an event, apart from a seer,  which was true. Regardless, she still felt the guilt. 

In the blink of an eye, Freya was surrounded in swaths of voluminous lilac velvet robes. Her teachers arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

“Oh my dear, I was beside myself with worry!” Sera’s voice sounded over her head. “There was so much damage in the room, it’s a miracle you were not killed!” She all but shrieked. Now she had assessed her charge to be well and safe, she released her and stood ramrod straight, preparing to begin the rather stern lecture on safety that had been forming in her mind since Mr. St.James informed her of his daughters waking. But it was not to be.

“Oh do sit down, Sera. I think the girls had enough of a scare, she doesn’t need a talking to from you as well.” Alora interrupted her colleague who whipped around to face her, spluttering her disagreement. Freya mouthed her thanks to the Medi-witch behind her Professors back as the woman directed the irate teacher into a chair while her parents enlarged the opposite one so they could sit together.

"Where is the Headmaster?" Freya asked. She turned to look at her father. "Mum said you were speaking to him just a moment ago."

"I was." He replied. "But then he had to go to his office to open his floo for the Scamander Center representative. They should both be here shortly." Freya paled when her dad mentioned the guest, though she should not have been surprised. Of course they would send someone to check on their investment after such an odd incident. 

"Do you think I'll be allowed to finish my research? Only there's still so much left for me to do, and it's only been a few weeks." She tried to tamp down her disappointment but her mother could see it plain as day on her face, and reached out to catch her daughters hand and give it a comforting squeeze. 

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, love. First let's focus on figuring out what happened and we'll go from there." Claire soothed, and she was right. Freya needed to get some answers and she needed more information to do that. Perhaps the representative would be able to provide some insight on why the wards they placed on the egg reacted so violently to her spell. She nodded and was about to continue speaking when the infirmary doors opened once again and the Headmaster strode in. There was another man behind him but Freya could only partially see him behind the Headmasters excessively frilly black robes and wide brimmed hat. 

"Good morning, all!" He crowed. "Miss St. James, I am thrilled to see you up and looking well. Of course I'm sure you have many questions, as do we! But first, before we dive into all that, allow me to introduce the representative from the Scamander Research Center and a rather good friend of mine if I do say so." He moved aside to allow the man standing behind him to step forward and every single one of them let out some variation of a gasp. 

"Mr. Newt Scamander himself!" the Headmaster announced with a flourish, rather delighting in the dramatics, while the man in question blushed and waved hello. 

***

Chapter Text

Freya’s mouth dropped open at the shock of seeing Newt Scamander standing behind the Headmaster, and not the standard low level administrative lackey she was expecting. 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Professor Rosewood exclaimed while slouching back in her chair and pinching the bridge of her nose. “You could have saved me quite a lot of worry, Furnell, if you had seen fit to tell me you were on such friendly terms with Mr. Scamander as to be able to summon him personally to tend to this matter.” She fussed. “Alora, please fetch me a headache draught.” 

Madam Vane smirked but went to get the potion for her colleague who sat muttering in her chair about infuriating Headmasters. 

“Good to see you as well, Madam Rosewood. Though I know we’ve only officially met once before, I do remember reading quite a lot about you in Bunty’s letters during your apprenticeship with her. Shall I give her your regards the next time I see her?” Mr. Scamander inquired.

Professor Rosewood stood and properly greeted Mr. Scamander with a handshake and a perfunctory, “If you please. Lovely to see you again. I apologize for my abrupt nature at the moment. I’m sure you understand given the circumstances and that you, apparently, are quite familiar with our Furnell.” Here she cut her eyes over to glare at the Headmaster who only beamed back at her, and Mr. Scamander laughed. 

“Of course, Madam Rosewood. I’m only too happy to be of assistance in this extraordinary situation.” He said and Professor Rosewood nodded before holding her hand out to Madam Vane, who had returned with the requested potion, and downing the brew given to her in one long gulp. 

Headmaster Pope seized the moment to continue the introductions. “Newt, this is our School Medi-Witch, Alora Vane.” Madam Vane and Mr. Scamander shook hands.

“Here we have Mr. and Mrs. St. James.” He gestured to the seated couple who smiled and nodded their greetings. Mr. Scamander nodded in return and turned to look at Freya.

“Then you must be Miss Freya. I must say, I am relieved to see you looking so well given what has occurred. I confess I expected to find you a bit more battered and bruised.” He gestured toward Madam Vane, “It is a testament to your school Medi-Witches astonishing healing skills that you appear the picture of health!” 

“Actually,” Madame Vane interjected, “There is something I would like to add here,  but I require permission of my patient and her guardians before disclosing any of her personal medical information to the rest of you.” The Medi-Witch looked to Freya’s parents. 

“Of course we would love to hear what you have to say Madame Vane, but it is up to Freya whether or not she chooses to allow anyone else to be party to that conversation.” Claire stated firmly before turning to look askance at her daughter.

“It’s alright, Madam Vane. I trust your judgment and discretion. Should you think it relevant for Mr. Scamander, Professor Rosewood, or the Headmaster to know, then I give you my permission to disclose the pertinent information. Simply put, I want to know what happened to me and Mr. Scamanders expertise in this instance might be necessary for that question to be answered.” Freya answered and Madam Vane nodded before reaching for Freya’s medical chart and clearing her throat. 

“As you are aware, Mr. and Mrs. St. James, Freya’s magical core capacity has expanded exponentially. What I did not explain before, and which I cannot take credit for, is that Freya healed herself completely without any aide from me.” There was a collective gasp and a muttered “extraordinary” from the Headmaster before she continued.

“When Sera brought Miss St. James into the infirmary her injuries had already begun to heal themselves. There was a severe fracture of her skull, some internal bleeding in her abdomen, what appeared to be three already healed broken ribs and a punctured lung, some extensive bruising over her back and shoulders which seems to have been a result of her impact with the stone wall and the concussive blast of magic that knocked her into it. Given the scope of the bruising I can surmise that there was also damage to her neck and spine but I cannot confirm it, as the potential damage had already healed.” 

“But it couldn’t have been more that fifteen minutes from the time the alarms went off in my office until I had her in your care, Alora! That’s..that’s just not possible!” Professor Rosewood all but shrieked. Freya could see her going over the timeline in her mind,  doing the mental calculations and trying to determine the exact timeframe, but there was simply no justifying it. She had self-healed life threatening injuries impossibly fast.

“I don’t understand.” Freya looked between her parents, who were suitably shocked into silence trying to process the information, and Madam Vane who continued.

“The only thing I did was vanish the blood while monitoring and documenting your progress. You healed yourself far better and more quickly than even the most experienced professional ever could. I can only attribute your magical exhaustion to the efforts your magic went through to accomplish the feat. And if your core hadn’t already expanded as it did, you certainly would have been completely drained.” Madam Vane placed a hand on Freya’s shoulder then and dropped one more informational bomb, “To put it bluntly my dear, and forgive me for it, at the very least you should now be a squib if not dead.” 

Claire burst into loud sobbing tears and surged out of her chair and onto the bed to wrap her daughter up in a tight hug. Mr. St. James joined his wife in holding their baby girl and thanked all the gods he could think of for granting them a miracle. Freya sat, squished between her parents, and thought.

Headmaster Pope allowed the family their moment and conferred with Newt who had several questions for Alora and Sera. Their conversation was a mere buzz in the background of Freya’s thoughts as her mind whirled. Eventually she took a deep breath and refocused. Her mother had calmed and loosened her grip around her daughter so it wasn’t so constricting and shifted so her head was resting on Freya’s shoulder. She looked up at her Father who nodded and smiled before kissing her forehead and moving to stand beside the bed leaving a hand to rest reassuringly on her other shoulder. 

“I think it might be best if you relate to us what you can recall of the event that put you here Miss St. James.” The Headmaster conjured chairs for the rest of them and once everyone was situated they all turned their eyes on her and waited patiently while she told the story and explained what she could.

“I know I shouldn’t have shot that severing charm, but I was just so frustrated and I wasn’t thinking clearly. There’s no way I could have anticipated that kind of reaction from the egg though! I mean, I didn’t think that the kind of wards or enchantments the Research Center employed would be so volatile!” This last statement she directed at Mr. Scamander who sat with his chin in his hand, a finger tapping pensively against his nose.

“I can tell you, without a doubt, that response was not due to any castings placed by the Research Center. For whatever reason, it seems that your spell triggered long latent protective magics in the egg itself. The Headmaster has informed me that the egg has changed since the incident, become more vibrant etcetera, and I wonder if you have any additional changes you’d like to report yourself?” He replied.

“Well I wouldn’t know yet, would I? I haven’t seen the thing since it tossed me across a classroom and knocked me unconscious!” She exclaimed, jostling her mother who moved off her shoulder and took her hand to give it a slight squeeze meant to comfort but also remind her daughter to mind her manners. 

“I meant in yourself, Miss St. James.” Mr. Scamander intoned gently, his eyes warm and alight with curiosity. Madam Vane picked up Freya’s chart poised to record her response.

“Oh, um yes actually.” She answered. “My vision has sharpened and I can sort of see magic now? Certainly the magical matrices left on an object after it has been enchanted. For example I can see the rainbow of wards woven through each other on the walls in here. I think. And my sense of touch is more refined, I can feel everything in greater detail.” She said and then she told the room what she saw and felt when she woke briefly at sunrise, leaving out the bit about her furious masturbation session. “The same can be said for my hearing and sense of smell, everything is just magnified and intense. I’m pretty sure taste as well, though I’ve yet to confirm that last one.” 

The entire time she was speaking Madame Vane scribbled notes into her chart and while Professor Rosewood looked more and more alarmed, Headmaster Pope looked more and more excited. Mr. Scamander maintained an expression of polite yet ernest curiosity. Freya could see the wheels turning in his head as they continued to talk about her heightened senses, how her core grew, what her magic felt like now, was her wand still compatible with her. On and on until finally Mr. Scamander stood and clasped his hands together turning to the Headmaster.

“Well, Furnell, I think I’m beginning to get an idea. I’d like to see the egg now if you don’t mind.” The Headmaster nodded and stood, ready to acquiesce to his friend’s request. The pair excused themselves and were halfway to the door before they were stopped by a shout.

“Wait!” Freya piped up. “I’d like to come as well, please. I need to see the egg for myself and catalogue the changes you mentioned for my research project.” She scrambled to get up quickly and follow. “That is, if the Research Center and the school allow me to continue?” 

“My dear girl,” The Headmaster stopped in his tracks, “there’s no question, you must continue!” He crowed. “I think it incredibly important we all understand what happened here. Obviously, I would not stop you from trying to get those answers for yourself. In fact, I think you’ve managed to get yourself a rather adept research partner.” He winked at her and nodded his head toward Mr. Scamander who was marching steadily on just ahead of them. 

“Do you think so, Headmaster?” Freya hoped he was right. To be able to work with Mr. Scamander would be the opportunity of a lifetime. 

“Honestly, I don’t think you could stop him Miss St. James.” He replied. “Just up there on the left now, Newt! Excuse me, dear.” The Headmaster quickened his pace to catch up with Mr. Scamander and she watched as he directed the man to turn at the end of the corridor. Freya looked over her shoulder to find her parents trailing behind in discussion with Professor Rosewood. She hoped desperately that they wouldn’t try to stop her from completing her project. 

When she entered the classroom she felt a shift in the air immediately. She felt her skin begin to tingle all over and there was a sort of magnetic pull calling her to the egg. The closer she moved toward it, the stronger the compulsion felt. By the time she reached the workbench where the egg sat, she was practically throbbing. Her pulse was thumping loudly in her ears and she could feel her blood racing through her veins. She laid a hand on the top of the egg and suddenly everything stopped. She felt a peace settle over her that she didn't realize she was missing before. She let out a relieved sigh and the egg glowed with a gentle warmth beneath her palm.

"Well! If that isn't the most obvious bonding I've ever encountered in my life I'll eat my hat!" cried Headmaster Pope. "What say you, Newt?"

"I do think you're right, Furnell." Mr. Scamander replied. He waved his wand in several complex patterns and studied a detailed diagram that floated in front of him with plenty of rapidly changing statistics, runes, and variables. "It seems this egg is no longer petrified. Obviously it was never truly dead, it was only a clever combination of natural illusions, wards, and charms. This is some of the most extraordinary magic I have ever seen! I'm not even sure how it all worked but I can tell this much, there is a baby dragon alive in that egg and it has bonded to Ms. St. James." 

Freya heard Mr. Scamander's announcement and would have fallen flat on her bum if Headmaster Pope hadn't summoned a stool from across the room to catch her. She sat, absolutely shell shocked and wondering what this meant. 

"So, umm, what does that mean then?" She inquired.

"Well, next steps are to send this egg to a dragon sanctuary where the professionals can make sure it's healthy and well taken care of for the duration of it's incubation. It needs to be closely monitored until it hatches." He answered.

Freya nodded but felt a knot of tension develop in her chest at the thought of being separated from the egg now after all her work and not to mention the bond that now tethered her to it.

"But what about the bond, Mr. Scamander? Surely it would be unwise to send the egg away when we don't know how a separation might effect me or it?" She was certain that it needed to stay relatively close to her though she couldn't say why beyond just a gut feeling.

Newt was quiet for a moment and it seemed every time he opened his mouth to express a thought he changed his mind and snapped it shut again. After a while her mother piped up excitedly, "I think I've got it! I have a friend, Molly, that I went to school with. Her son, Charles, is a dragon tamer at a reserve in Romania! We could send the egg there!" Claire looked up at her husband standing beside her and spoke directly to him as she continued. "I would trust Molly with my life and from what she's told me, I know Charles to be a good sort. I think it might be best if we let Freya go so she can stay with the egg and Charles can watch after her. I think it's the best solution we could possibly come up with given the circumstances. What do you think, Darling?"

"I think you're quite right, my love." Then he turned to Freya and asked her what she thought.

"Romania? You think I should go to Romania until the egg hatches? What if it takes years, as some breeds do! What about finishing school and my friends? What about you?" She could feel herself starting to get worked up so she took a deep breath and stood from her stool. "I don't know if I can handle all this. I'm only 17!" She stared hard at the egg while she thought about all the potential repercussions of her thoughtless severing charm. All the unbelievable things that were happening to her now. How was she expected to cope with all this on such short notice! She needed time and space to mull it all over and come up with a plan. Before she could speak again, Mr. Scamander patted her on the shoulder.

"No need to panic or think in the long term just yet Ms. St. James. Let's just take it in steps, shall we? First things first, I am going to reach out to the Romanian reserve and request that they take part in the eggs care during it's incubation period and I'm going to lay some things out and provide them with all the information that we have regarding your situation and potential involvement." Then he turned away from her to look at her mother. "Mrs. St. James, I think it best that you reach out to your friend Molly and her son Charles. Let them know we need their help. Perhaps we can arrange an international floo call for you to discuss things. Furnell, doesn't your office floo have the capability?"

"Indeed it does, Newt! I shall take Mr. and Mrs. St. James up to my office and we shall contact the British Ministry and get in touch with..." He looked askance at Claire and she filled in the gap, "Molly, sir. Molly Weasley."

"Mrs. Weasley, then! Don't worry Freya, everything is going to be taken care of and you can stay here with the egg and Professor Rosewood." Freya nodded her understanding and her parents left with the headmaster while Mr. Scamander went to use the floo in Madam Vane's office. She was left alone with just the egg and Professor Rosewood for company. 

"Well!" Professor Rosewood let out a put upon sort of sigh and conjured two fluffy armchairs before dropping herself heavily into one and gesturing for Freya to take a seat in the other. "It seems they've all got everything quite worked out on your behalf then, dear. But how are you feeling about all these arrangements and decisions being made for you?" She asked. 

Freya sat in the chair as she tried to process it all. One thing she always appreciated about Professor Rosewood was how the woman always seemed to cut straight to the heart of whatever issue was at hand. She could see that the number one thing bothering Freya right now was her lack of control over all these things that were going to directly affect her and the future she spent so long and worked so hard toward. She knew Freya hated having so many unanswered questions and only half a plan to begin getting the answers she so desperately needed. Mr. Scamander said they didn't need to think in the long term right now, but that is exactly what Freya was most concerned about! The long term was everything that mattered! 

"I'm not sure how I'm going to do this Professor." Her eyes began to well with tears as she tried to explain what she was worried about and how she was feeling. "I don't want to move to Romania and leave everyone behind. My parents, my friends, the school. This is my home, Professor. I know I need to do this. I know I need to buck up and go so I can figure out what is happening to me. I do want answers, dammit, but I think I'm still in shock and overwhelmed with all the what if's and possibilities. Pardon my language, professor, but leaving everything so open ended is definitely not helping me cope." She finished her train of the thought and then the floodgates opened and Freya finally let the tears fall. She broke down and sobbed in front of her professor and she couldn't bring herself to care about the woman witnessing her moment of weakness. 

Professor Rosewood patiently waited for her to regain her composure and then did the only thing she could think of to help her favorite student, which happened to be the thing she did best. She took charge. She laid out a plan. She talked Freya through every contingency for every situation she could think of that might be relevant for her. She theorized and threw out answers and scenarios until the girl began to calm and kept going until the postulations were starting to get ridiculous and far fetched enough to make her laugh and only then did she stop speaking. 

"So really, dear, there's nothing more you could possibly worry about and if there is..." she blew out a breath and slouched back into her plush chair, "I honestly have no earthly idea what it could be." Seraphina Rosewood was confident there could be nothing left to discuss and given that her charge was now in a much better mood and frame of mind she felt she had quite accomplished her mission. She allowed herself a miniscule smirk as she watched Ms. St. James gather her wits and relax into her own chair. She could tell the girl felt more settled. A look of determination took over her features as she took one last deep, centering, breath and spoke.

"Alright. I'm going to Romania for the summer at least. I'll stay with the egg and work with the research team at the reserve. I will figure out, at least a little bit, what is happening to me and the potential implications and ramifications. At the end of the summer I will reevaluate and, if necessary, will arrange to take my classes another way with you and Headmaster Pope." She leaned forward and grasped Professor Rosewood's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Professor. It feels so much better to have a plan and to know that I am prepared for what comes next."

They continued to chat over bottles of fizzy water the professor had summoned for them until the Headmaster returned with Freya's parents. The Headmaster had arranged for them all to stay in the castle in a set of empty staff quarters for the next few days so that Freya could remain close to the egg while the adults worked out the rest of the details. Between her parents, the Headmaster, Mr. Scamander, Mrs. Weasley and her son, they expected to have it all arranged quite quickly. 

In less than a week she would be in the Weasley's House in Ottery St. Catchpole probably having tea with her moms friend Molly.

Chapter Text

The international portkey spat Freya out in a small grey room inside the British Ministry of Magic. The room was a little bit larger than a storage closet and almost entirely empty. There was a chair with a small side table beside it upon which sat a stainless steel pitcher. Judging by the condensation beaded up and dripping down the outside of the pitcher, Freya assumed it contained ice cold water which was much needed after such a tumultuous journey. She hadn’t really known what to expect from international portkey travel but she certainly hadn’t expected it to take such an enormous toll on her constitution. She picked up the matching stainless steel cup beside the pitcher and filled it to the brim and took a long drink, her throat bobbing as she practically chugged the chilled liquid. 

She sat in the chair and slouched forward resting her elbows on her knees and took several deep grounding breaths. Her head was pounding and she felt entirely too nauseous. As the thought crossed her mind that she might vomit, a stainless steel bucket popped into being on the floor between her feet. It was in the perfect position under her bowed head to catch any potential mess that might be spontaneously expelled from her mouth. How thoughtful she mused sardonically and rolled her eyes as she sat up in the chair and rested her head against the high back and thought about what was going to happen next. 

Mr. Weasley was supposed to collect her from the Atrium on the main floor and then they would  floo from the Ministry to the public floo office in Ottery St. Catchpole where the Weasley’s home was located. She would stay there for a few days while she waited for their son, Charles Weasley, to come and get her for the next leg of her journey to Romania. 

She knew she needed to vacate the portkey room soon so it would be available for the next incoming arrival but she wasn’t quite ready yet. She checked the clock board hanging over the door in front of her and noted that the next arrival would be popping into the room in twenty minutes which ought to be plenty of time for her stomach and nerves to settle. 

When the clock showed only 5 minutes remaining she stood and exited the room. She followed the signs down the door lined hall to a row of booths at the end. Each containing an employee seated behind a glass partition. She waited in line and when it was her turn she handed over her travel documents to be stamped and collected her baggage claim ticket. The bored witch helping her directed her to a bank of elevators and told her to go down a level and follow the signs to the international baggage claim.

The elevator ride was not like any she had experienced before. The box was absolutely crammed full of people and if she hadn’t felt her feet magically stuck to the floor she was sure she would have hit the ceiling with the force and speed at which they were dropped down to the next level. As she exited the elevator she noted with some relief that she wasn’t the only one who appeared a little shocked by the short ride. 

She was swept down the hall with the rest of the eager crowd heading to collect their luggage. Once she had her bags in hand, consisting of three lovely cream and brown matching suitcases, she shrunk them all down and put them in her shoulder bag. She checked her wristwatch and noted she had 12 minutes before she needed to meet Mr. Weasley in the Atrium. Which turned out to be barely enough time as she stood before the fountain in the center. She sat on the edge and caught her breath as a portly and cheerful looking red-haired man spotted her and waved enthusiastically at her as he approached. 

“Hello! Freya St. James, yes? I’m Arthur. Arthur Weasley! It’s a pleasure to meet you! My Molly hasn’t stopped talking about you since she got your mums call the other day! She’s been baking up a storm and she set all the kids to cleaning up to make ready for you. They’re all excited to meet you, dear. Got everything then? Ready to go?” He spoke a mile a minute and herded her off toward a bank of fireplaces on the other side of the Atrium when she smiled and nodded at him.

When they reached an open fireplace Mr. Weasley told her to grasp onto his hand and they’d go through together. They arrived on the other side and Freya thought that floo was worlds better than portkey, though she did still feel a rush of wooziness as she stepped out of the public fireplace and followed Mr. Weasley out of the floo office and onto the sidewalk out front. 

“We could have gone directly through to the fireplace at The Burrow, that’s our home, but Molly said you might prefer a bit of time to clear you head and get your bearings. It’s not far though, so don’t worry dear! Just a bit of jaunt over the hill outside the Village. It’s a lovely walk too, mind. Beautiful countryside out here! We picked a nice place to settle, my Molly and Me.” He grinned proudly as he continues to talk about his home and his family and the village and the various attractions of the area while marched along and she followed closely at his side humming and nodding when necessary. 

Her mum must have told Molly that she’d need a few moments before meeting so many new people after all the hustle of travel and the chaos of the Ministry. She was grateful for the time and she thought it rather worked out that they came upon the Burrow from town. The view as they crested the hill was rather whimsical and lovely and she was glad to see everything all laid out before them like this. 

The Burrow was a tall, rather spindly stack of a house. It was quite mismatched and looked a little wobbly, if she was honest, but it was done up in warm tones of wood and painted several cheerful colors that somehow complimented each other. There was a beautiful garden surrounded by a picket fence and she could see an orchard of some kind off in the distance and a glittering pond with a dock not too far from that. 

Two of the aforementioned Weasley children were running about in the garden catching and tossing what looked like Gnomes over the fence, another pair of red- heads could be seen zipping about on brooms and tossing a quaffle off to the side of the house. As she took it all in the front door opened and yet another Weasley ran outside, her long flaming hair whipping in the breeze as she began rounding up her siblings. The Matriarch appeared at the door, wiping her hands on her apron and watching to make sure her children listened. Molly caught sight of them up on the hill and waved cheerfully before moving aside to make way for her returning brood. 

“Looks like she’d got them all waiting for us! Ready to head down then? I just know my Molly will have some tea waiting for you and probably a nice spread for lunch!” Arthur smiled encouragingly and together they made their way down the hill and through the garden gate to arrive at the front door where Molly was indeed waiting to greet them along with five other smiling faces. 

Freya was unprepared for the warm and tight hug that Molly swept her up in the moment she walked into the house. She was not used to being quite so fussed over and could not get a word in as the woman shooed her children away and steered her into a chair in the cozy kitchen. 

 A steaming cup of tea was floated into her hands and a plate of biscuits with an accompanying pot of jam whizzed over to plonk down on the table in front of her. Molly continued to talk as she bustled about the kitchen for a while longer and then finally came to sit at the head of the table beside her.

“I think that soup can stand to simmer a few minutes and while we wait for it to finish you can tell me how you’re holding up, love.” Mrs. Weasley reached for Freya’s hands and gently removed the teacup and placed it gently on it’s saucer before latching back onto her hands and holding them firmly as she waited for Freya to answer. There was such an Ernest and gentle warmth about Mrs. Weasley and suddenly Freya missed her mum very much. She refused to cry again though so she smiled sweetly and gave her reply.

“You have such a lovely home Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for welcoming me into it so warmly. My mum has told me so much about you and I’m very happy to be here with someone so kind to look after me.” Mrs. Weasley blushed a little at the compliments.

“Pish posh!” She demurred as she let go of Freya’s hands and leaned back in her chair. “I see Claire didn’t quite lose all her pureblood etiquette training when she absconded from Old Blighty after all! I thought surely she’d jump right in and adopt all the American ways with her freedom, but it seems she held onto enough to pass on perfect manners and a stiff upper lip to her darling daughter! Good on you, dear but we’re much more casual and emotional in this household. No need to stand on ceremony here! I know you’re probably overwhelmed right now. Odds are you’re bound to get overstimulated in this chaotic household over the next few days and that is perfectly alright. If it gets to be too much for at any time you just let me know and I’ll get it handled for you! Now, I’m going to call the rest in here for lunch and you’ll have to suffer through their questions and curiosity until you’ve eaten properly. But after that we’ll send you off to your room for a bit of quiet time and settling in. You’ll be sharing with Ginny of course but she’ll leave you be until supper time.” 

Freya nodded and said yes ma’am and then Molly stood up and went back to the stove brandishing her wand to stir the soup, assemble a mountain of sandwiches, summon an army of dishes and cutlery-which all set itself out neatly around the large dining table. Finally, Mrs. Weasley rang a bell and the thunder of footsteps running down a flight of stairs and the clamor of conversation could be heard. 

Five freckled ginger kids tumbled into the room practically on top of each other. There was a tall poncy looking one with horn-rimmed glasses, a set of twins with matching mischievous grins, a blushing boy that looked to be around her age, and a girl who shoved one of the twins out of the chair beside Freya and took the seat for herself.

“Trust me.” Said the girl who must be Ginny. “You do not want to sit next to George.”

“Hey! First of all, I resent that Ginevra. I am a perfectly charming and amiable young gentleman. There is no reason why our lovely guest should not be safe and happy seated beside me.” He grinned at Freya from where he sat on the floor and sent her a cheeky wink. “And second, I’m not George. I’m Fred.” He said and Ginny glared down at him.

“Whatever.” She huffed. “He’d probably charm your hair right off your head and then amiable laugh about it or something.” Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m much better company. Ginny Weasley, lovely to meet you. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.  I won’t let the twins prank you while you’re here. Us girls have got to stick together, eh?” She gently nudged Freya’s shoulder with her own and then took it upon herself to finish up the introductions.

“As I was saying, that lout still sitting on the floor there is George.”

“But I thought he said his name was Fred?” Freya interrupted. Fred got up from the floor and whispered in her ear “It is.” before crossing behind her and rounding the table to sit beside his twin. Ginny just rolled her eyes again and continued.

“Well that’s Fred then. And the idiot next to him grinning like a loon is George. They’re whole thing is pranks and jokes and stuff. They’ve even got a shop opening up in Diagon Alley soon. They’ve got their own flat too. They’re just here because neither of them can cook anything edible and mum made them come home to meet you.” 

“We’d love to give you the full tour sometime.” George flirted. “We promise to be on our best behavior and everything.” He promised. “Don’t we Fred?”

“Oh I don’t know, brother mine. I think the witch might like a bit of mischief.” He was looking at her in a searching sort of way waiting to see how she’d react. She blushed but maintained eye contact none the less. Fred smirked and Ginny kept on moving to the next brother.

“That one is Ron. He’s your age, I think. You’re sixteen, right?” Ginny asked and Freya nodded. Ron was too busy scarfing down a sandwich and reaching to add another one onto his plate to notice that he’d been introduced to George reached over and slapped him upside the head.

“Oy! What was that for?” He sputtered and almost chocked on his mouth full of egg salad but blushed bright red to the roots of his hair when George nodded toward Freya across the table watching the exchange. “Oh. Uh, nice to meet you.” He said and went back to eating with his eyes on his plate.

“Honestly, Ronald, I don’t understand how you manage with such atrocious table manners. I sincerely hope his behavior does not reflect too poorly on the rest of us. I promise we’re not all Neanderthals.” Sneered the poncy boy at the end of the table. “I shouldn’t even be here, I should be at the office.” 

“Then what are you bothering us for then, Perfect Percy? Just go crawling back to dear old Fudge and leave us alone you great git!” Ron exploded. Clearly there was some family tension. 

“I would.” Percy replied tartly. He crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air before going on, “But I promised the Minister that I would liase with dad on a few things and since he wasn’t at the Ministry today I had to come here to speak to him. These are time sensitive matters you know.” He sniffed.

Ginny ignored Percy all together. Neither did she pay attention to Ron’s outburst. She just filled the awkward silence that followed it telling Freya about her other brothers.

“Bill’s the oldest. Obviously he’s not here right now. He’s a cursebreaker at Gringott’s. And you already know about Charlie of course. He should be here in two or three days  to get you so we’ll have a little time to get to know each other better  before you go. It’ll be so nice to have another girl around!” Ginny enthused. 

“You act like you never have female company here, Gin but Hermione is here all the time and Luna is just a few fields over.” Fred snarked.

“Oh we should go visit Luna! She’s super nice and I’m sure you’d love her! She’s in my year but she’s a Ravenclaw. We’re all Gryffindors here. What are the Houses at Ilvermorny like?” Ginny’s question seemed to pique everyone’s curiosity and suddenly it was quiet and they were all staring at her waiting for her to speak.

“Um, well there are four houses, much like you have at Hogwarts. Our founder, Isolt Sayers, was accepted into Hogwarts actually but her aunt refused to let her attend. There is a lot about Ilvermorny that was based on Howarts actually. Like our four House system for example, and our uniforms were inspired by Isolt’s desire to be sorted into Ravenclaw.” Freya paused and they all just looked at her waiting for her to keep going.

“Well my mum went to Hogwarts with your and she says the sorting is very different. She told me you guys put on a hat and it tells you where to go. At Ilvermorny you stand on a Gordian knot in the middle of a circular room just inside the front doors. All the upper years watch from the balconies above. There are four statues of the creatures that represent our houses and we wait to see which one will react to claim us. There’s Horned Serpent, Thunderbird, Pukwudgie, and Wampus.” She told the. “From what mum has told me, the Houses aren’t like the direct equivalent of the ones you have at Hogwarts though.”

“So which one are you then?” Fred asked.

“Would you like to guess?” She asked them.

“Alright! Place your bets all! A galleon says she's a Thunderbird.” George slapped a shiny galleon onto the table.

“You’re on, Lesser Half! I’m going Horned Serpent all the way.” Fred plopped his own galleon on the table next to George’s. 
“I think you’re both wrong.” Ginny said. “She seems pretty fierce like a Wampus to me. They’re the warrior house, right?” Freya nodded. 

“Yes, Wampus is known for favoring bravery, strength, and a fighting spirit. It represents the body.” Freya replied. “Horned Serpent favors intellectualism as it represents the mind. Thunderbird represents the soul and favors independence and a strong sense of self. Adventurers do well there. Finally, there’s Pukwudgie which represents the heart. A lot of healers have been Pukwudgies. They’re usually characterized by their loyalty, humility, consideration, and nurturing nature. But we know that not everyone fits perfectly into any mold. Oftentimes more than one House statue will react to claim a new student and it’s up to them to decide where they want to belong.”

“So kind of like a hatstall then?” Asked George. “I still say Thunderbird. You seem like an adventurous sort of bird, yourself.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. 

“Do either of you want to change your bets now that you know a little more about each house?” She looked at Fred first who shook his head and then to Ginny who also decided to remain firm. “Alright, then that just leaves you to guess Ron.” Percy had left the table when George first brought up betting.

“I’m going Wampus as well.” He stated.

“Hey! You can’t pick Wampus! I already picked Wampus which means if I’m right then I have to share my winnings with you! No way, Ronald. Pick Pukwudgie.” Ginny exclaimed.

“But I don’t think she’s a Pukwhatzit! I think she’s a Wampus!” Ron shouted back. 

“Ugh!” Ginny cried in frustration. “Fine. But I’m not sharing if we win!” She warned. Then four pairs on bright blue eyes landed on Freya as the Weasley brood waited for the verdict.

“I was a, what did you call it? A hatstall?” Freya questioned and they all nodded. “Three out of the four statues reacted for me. Horned Serpent, Thunderbird, and Wampus. I got to choose.” She was drawing it out a little. Building the suspense because she could tell they were all dying to know who had won the bet. 

“Well don’t leave us hanging here, love. I beg you! Do tell!” Fred implored.

“I chose...”Freya paused for effect before announcing her chosen house. “Thunderbird.”

“Aha!” George jumped from his chair which fell over and clattered loudly on impact with the floor. “I knew it!” He shouted and promptly followed his chair to the ground when he tripped over the upended legs as he tried to do a victory jump. “Pay up you lot!” He laughed from the floor and thrust his arm up, hand out waiting for the galleons he won. The rest of the Weasleys laughed good naturedly and handed over their coins right before Mrs. Weasley burst through the kitchen door to take in the scene.

“What on earth is all that racket?” She cried. “Fred, what are you doing on the floor? Get up, get up! And right that chair at once.” She fussed. George didn’t bother to correct his mum for calling him the wrong name. He just sat up and waggled his eyebrows at Freya and winked. She was sure he was smirking at her as well but the edge of the table blocked the rest of his face from view. She rolled her eyes in return.

“Have you eaten, Freya dear?” Mrs. Weasley looked at her then with her hands on her hips and a look on her face that said don’t you dare lie to me about it. 

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley. Everything was delicious. I especially enjoyed the soup. You must send my mum the recipe in your next letter. I’d hate to never taste it again.” She smiled politely at Mrs. Weasley.

“Just call me Molly dear. I’m glad you enjoyed it and I will certainly send Claire the recipe. Now Ginny will take you up to your room and leave you to settle in and rest a bit. No one will bother you until supper time.” She glared menacingly at her boy children and urged Ginny to get Freya sorted and then come back down to help her clean up in the kitchen. 

Ginny showed Freya upstairs to a small but bright room at the top on the second landing across from a washroom. There were band posters and a large image of Gwenog Jones on the wall. The window looked out over the orchard in a picturesque view. There were two beds on opposite sides of the room separated by the desk under the window. The pale pink bedcovers matched the walls almost perfectly. Freya hadn’t realized just how tired she was until she was faced with the soft looking bed and pair of fluffy pillows.

“It’s not much but it’s private and quiet. The Twins are in the room above but after the last summer full of random booms and bangs I made them put really strong permanent silencing charms in their floor so we can’t hear anything from up there anymore.” Ginny informed her. “I guess I’ll leave you to rest for a while. Washroom is across the hall. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything but honestly you look like you’re about to fall over so I’ll just come and wake you up for dinner, yeah?”

Freya nodded and thanked her and Ginny left closing the door softly behind her. Freya dropped her bag on top of the desk. She could deal with enlarging her luggage later though she wouldn’t be unpacking much since she was only meant to be here at the Burrow for a few days. She dropped down on the bed and bounced a little on the plush mattress. She kicked off her shoes and slid them under the bed before tucking herself in and promptly passing out. The day had finally caught up with her. The toll of her long travel, the chaotic Ministry, the shock of meeting the Weasleys, all her overwhelming thoughts and feelings about her rapidly changing life and the bond. It was just a touch too much for one day and she sank gratefully into the bed and tucked herself under the warm blankets and let her brain stop working and the darkness claim her. 

Chapter Text

After two days at the Burrow, Freya felt settled in the chaos. It wasn’t overwhelming, it was welcoming. It was homey. It felt right. Like the Burrow without it would be wrong. She supposed she honestly should have expected a certain level of rowdiness in a house with so many children, most of the them being hormonal teenage boys to boot.

Molly was probably the warmest woman she’d ever met but there was a fire in her that threatened to burn the world down for the sake of her children if necessary. She was protective, almost smothering. She held her kids to a high standard. She expected them to be great but accepted when they fell short. As long as they were genuinely happy and doing their absolute best in their chosen pursuits, she was there to support them.

Molly pushed and Freya really noticed it with the twins. She could tell that it took a lot of effort on Molly's part to put aside her disapproval and she bit her tongue a lot when it came to lecturing them over their choices in products and business practices and their flat and their lack of NEWTS etc. Molly had opinions and for every one she didn’t let out she had two more ready to go. She expressed those thoughts quite loudly and often.

Molly struggled to see how serious the twins were underneath all their joking and laughter. She was finding it difficult to let go now that they were out on their own but only because she wanted the best for all her children and worried about them incessantly when they left the safety of her supervision and guidance at home.

Freya knew the twins loved their mum and took everything she said into consideration and they were really incredibly patient with her interfering ways. Freya certainly would have lost her temper at the first howler, but the twins just took it in stride. It’s like they thought of a howler as an amusing reminder of their mothers love.

The twins were very interested in Freya and her experiences in at school there. They were considering branching out to the American market and wanted to know her thoughts on their merchandise and how it would be received there. They were constantly bombarding her with questions and they listened with rapt attention to her answers. Their focus on her was honestly a bit unnerving at first but once she adjusted she quite appreciated feeling so seen and heard. She found herself relaxing and laughing more than she had in weeks. The stress of her rapidly changing situation in life was slowly easing and she had the twins to thank for providing her with such excellent distractions, engaging her mind, and not allowing her to slip into melancholy now that she had the time to.

Their brother Ron, on the other hand, was far more weary and standoffish. He seemed to be naturally suspicious though. It was like he didn’t know what to make of her and instead of putting in the effort to get to know her better, like the twins had, he decided to err on the side of not getting to know her at all. The sooner she left their home, the better in his mind. He didn’t need another unknown variable mucking things up for him. He had enough of that, thanks.

He seemed to get even more nervous when Molly mentioned at lunch that his friends, Harry and Hermione, would be coming to stay closer to the end of the summer and Freya would probably get to meet them when she was passing through the Burrow again on her way back home. He tensed up entirely and his face turned red like he was holding his breath. When Freya responded to Molly that she was looking forward to connecting with more young people her age here in the UK he jolted out of his chair and made some excuse about having to send an owl and practically ran from the room. Ginny, who was sitting beside her, just rolled her eyes and said that he got weird and protective about his friends and just ignore him please. So she did.

They finished their meal and went back outside to enjoy the rare sunny weather. Ginny had convinced her to go swimming down at the pond. She even let Freya borrow one of her swimming costumes which she had to transfigure a bit to make it fit. Ginny was more lean and athletically built. She was willowy, whereas Freya was fit and athletic as well but also much curvier than the Weasley girl. As a result she had to make the black swimsuit backless so that she could add the extra fabric around the chest and hip areas.

They swam laps, racing each other around the circumference of the pond and then played mermaids like they were little girls again. It was quite nice to be silly and let loose. She was really enjoying herself. They climbed out of the water and laid out on a giant blanket in the sun gossiping about their school friends and hobbies and reading old copies of Witch Weekly. Ginny had even brought out several bottles of nail varnish and they painted their fingers and toes, black for Freya and cherry red for Ginny. Freya even managed to paint a tiny snitch on Ginny’s which she charmed to flit around from finger to finger.

Ginny was telling her about the boy she was dating explaining how she liked him well enough but she thinks their relationship was coming to an end.
“It’s just not working anymore. Honestly, we’re much better off as friends and I’m almost certain he’s into his best friend Seamus anyway. Which is totally fine, by the way. Especially since I’ve held a torch for Harry since before my first year.” She admitted.

“Harry? Isn’t that your brother Ron’s best friend?” Freya asked.

“Yes.” Ginny sighed and rolled over onto her back throwing her arm over her eyes to block out the glaring sun.

“He’s just so perfect, Freya, truly. He’s so funny and much smarter than he gives himself credit for. Not to mention how brave and selfless and kind he is. I don’t even care that he’s the Chosen one or whatever. He’s just Harry to me.” She rolled back on her side facing Freya and propped her head on her hand.

“And he’s just really fucking sexy on top of all that. It’s not even fair! He has absolutely no right to be so damn attractive!” Ginny shouted and Freya laughed.

“Sounds like you know what you need to do then, Gin. As difficult as it might be, you need to break up with Dean. It seems like you both aren’t being fair or entirely honest with each other.” Ginny rolled her eyes and groaned but agreed it was for the best.

“Besides, that means you can shoot your shot with Harry!” Freya smirked and Ginny blushed.

”When you see him later this summer you’ll totally understand, Freya. I have two words for you darling girl. Quidditch. Thighs.” Ginny said and they both dissolved into a giggling fit.

Suddenly Fred and George were sitting on either side of her grinning and sunning themselves, their bare chests speckled with dirt from the garden and gleaming with a sheen of sweat.

“Did I hear mention of Quidditch?” George said, his voice quite close to her ear. She turned her head to look at him and his face was barely an inch from hers. He smirked. His eyes briefly flicking down her to mouth.

“Would you like to go for a ride on my broomstick, Freya love?” His smirk grew mischievous and he leaned away from her laying back and resting on his elbows. She gasped a little laugh and was about to reply when she heard Fred pipe up from her other side.

“My broomstick is bigger, you should ride mine.” Fred’s eyes sparkled when he spoke and she could see them heat as he let his gaze wander over her body. She blushed and she saw his grin widen triumphantly as he watched the color slowly spread over her cheeks and down across her chest.

“I think she likes the idea, Georgie.” Fred scooted a tiny bit closer and his chest brushed against her shoulder. Then she felt George’s hand on her knee, his fingers skimming lightly over her skin trying to catch her attention and drawing her gaze back to him where he reclined beside her.

“Or maybe we could all go flying together?” He suggested. “We promise to take really good care of you, love. We’ll go nice and slow at first and build up to the harder and faster stuff.”

She was breathing heavier now. George’s finger was drawing maddening circles on her knee. Slowing getting wider and wider. Just when his fingertip brushed over the sensitive skin at the inside of her thigh Fred’s breath ghosted over her neck and he whispered in her ear. “We promise to give you a good time, kitten. You can trust us.”

She shivered and the tiniest whisper of a moan left her parted lips as she exhaled all the breath she’d been holding.

Freya opened her eyes, which she hadn’t realized had fallen shut, and looked past Fred’s shoulder at Ginny who was laying on her side flipping through her magazine and kicker her feet while trying very hard not to burst into laughter at the look on her clearly flustered friends face and ignore the moment happening right beside her. She failed. The laughter rolling out of her when she could no longer contain it. She sat up and smacked Fred over the head with her hastily rolled up Witch Weekly.

“Oi! Leave her alone you great gits! You’ve had your fun and now you’ve gone and gotten her all out of sorts. Look at her!” Ginny berated them playfully. They did look at her and she blushed again under their scrutiny. They grinned widely at each other over her head and then both stood up and barreled toward the pond in a blur of red hair and freckles. She could only watch as they cannon balled simultaneously and a wave of water far larger than it should’ve been rained down on her and Ginny soaking them completely.

They both squealed at the sudden onslaught of cold water and Ginny glared daggers at her brothers before standing up and charging into the water after them.

“Cool enough now?” Fred shouted back to her from where he bobbed up and down in the water. She was cool enough that goose bumps broke out over her skin and her nipples peaked almost painfully beneath the material of her swimsuit. But she really didn’t know if it was from the cold water or from the gravelly sound of his voice and the tension she still felt from the twins brazen flirtations.

“I’m going to drown you, George Weasley!” Ginny screeched as she pummeled Georges shoulder and climbed onto his back to try and dunk him back under the water. George only laughed and flipped his sister off his back to catch her up in his arms and toss her further out into the pond. Freya watched Fred swim over to join his siblings and she just flopped back down onto the blanket and listened to their banter and play fighting while she basked in the sun and the glow of happiness she felt in her heart from spending time with this ridiculous family.

***

The third day was spent in a similar manner. She woke up to Ginny bouncing on her bed telling her breakfast was ready and to get dressed to spend the day out of doors again. Freya was still feeling rather exhausted from her travels but she brushed it off as her still adjusting to the different time zone. She sat on the edge of the bed and stretched while Ginny talked and rifled through her luggage for a proper outfit.

“Gods, you’ve got a lot more in here than I thought you’d have.” Ginny was having a grand time going through all of Freya’s sundresses, robes, matching sets, athletic clothes, shoes, and her knickers. Freya snatched the pair of black panties and matching sports bra from the air when Ginny threw them at her. Next came a pair of black spandex shorts she wore when she played muggle volleyball, quickly followed by a thin plain white t-shirt that smacked her in the face before she could intercept it and a pair of socks that bounced off her head and rolled under her bed when they hit the floor.

“Put those on and then come down to eat. We’re playing Quidditch today!” Ginny then turned abruptly and flounced out the open bedroom door and disappeared down the stairs. Freya laughed to herself at her new friends enthusiasm. In truth she was just as excited to play Quidditch as Ginny was. It had been such a long time since she last got to play and she missed being on her house team and being able to practice flying everyday. That was one of the biggest sacrificed she made when she decided to focus her final semester of last year on her egg study project. She dressed quickly donning her shorts and pulling the shirt on over her head. Instead of just summoning the socks she got to her knees and bent down to reach under the bed for them.

“She looks good on her knees like that doesn’t she, George?” Fred’s voice startled her and she jolted a bit, her head banging into the bedframe. She would definitely have a bump.

“Sorry, love. We didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?” George came into the room to help her up and she nodded as she took his hand.

“In Fred’s defense, you do look quite ravishing this morning. I’m not sure how we’ll fly today with you out there to distract us.” He said. His tone was light and joking but she could see the serious undercurrent in his eyes. His large hand came up to tangle in her hair and feel for the bump on the back of her head. He whispered a healing charm in her ear and she felt the soothing sensation of his wandless magic coursing through her. It made her feel all warm and tingly inside. Fred leaned up against the doorjamb smirking at the pair of them. Like he was only too happy to have been able to provide an excuse for his twin to get his hands on her again.

“Atrociously, I hope.” She answered. “Ginny and I will need the advantage against you more...experienced players.” She moved around George until she reached Fred who was blocking the exit. He was standing casually in the middle of the doorway, his long arms stretched out above him with his hands gripping the lintel. Freya walked right up to him until her body was scarcely an inch from his. She could feel the warmth he radiated and she placed her hand on his chest right over his rapidly besting heart. 

“I do hope you boys can keep up.” She said and looked up at him through her lashes with the tiniest smirk on her face before ducking underneath his arm and moving out into the hallway, her palm sliding along his ribs as she went. Freya tried her very best not to look back at them but when she reached the top of the stairs at the end of the hall she risked a quick peek over her shoulder and saw both twins in the doorway staring after her. Fred having slid down the side into a crouch and resting his head against the frame behind him, George with one hand on his twins shoulder and the other one gripping onto his fiery locks. 

She blew them a kiss over her shoulder and Fred reached out to catch it, bring it to his heart with a smile. She thought she heard George whisper a curse word under his breath and watched him turn away and walk further into her room and out of her view. Fred’s eyes followed his twin and he stood to follow winking at her before he, too, disappeared into her room. 

***

The twins proved to be fierce competition later. They flew brilliantly and were totally in sync with each other, an advantage of being twins she supposed. Ron played keeper for both teams since there was only one hoop in the garden. He was actually fairly good and let in far less than he managed to block out. In the end though she and Ginny were just faster and more agile fliers than the twins and that was enough to put the girls in the lead by the time Molly called them all in for lunch and put an end to the game. 

It seemed that the way to Ron’s heart was through Quidditch since his attitude towards Freya greatly improved post match. He even went as far as to throw his arm around her shoulder on their walk back toward the house and compliment her on her skills. He kept up the conversation while they ate their sandwiches and homemade crisps. Having his mouth full of food did not seem enough reason for him to stop talking now that he apparently approved of her friendship. 

”Did you play for your school house back home?” He asked. Chomping away on a ginormous bite of his sandwich. 

“Yes, I’ve been a chaser on my house team for years. I only just stopped playing to focus on my self study in my last semester. It was really nice to be able to play again. I forgot how much I missed it.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the sporty type. Honestly, I thought you’d be more like Hermione. All about books and reading and school stuff.” He shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth.

“Well, I am incredibly studious and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to do well in school. A good education sets the foundation for your future.” She replied. 

“Blimey, you sound just like her! The pair of you will get along just fine I think.” He was quiet while he scarfed down another sandwich and she was relieved to be spared the spray of crumbs and garbled speech for the moment. 

“Don’t let him fool you.” Ginny piped up beside her. “He fully takes advantage of Hermione’s brain power. He needs her intelligence. Without her he definitely would have failed his OWLS for sure. He barely makes it by as it is but for some reason she’s determined to see him through. Personally, I’d have let him pass or fail on his own merit but she’s much kinder than me.” Ginny rolled her eyes when Ron glared at her from across the table and shouted about how that wasn’t true and he was smart too!

“I just need a little help sometimes is all it is. I get distracted and she helps keep me focused.” He mumbled. 

“Oh come off it, Ronald. She does FAR more than keep you on track and you know it. Everyone knows it. If Harry wasn’t right there with you capitalizing on her goodwill he’d tell you the same thing. At least he’s grateful about it and doesn’t treat her help as if he’s entitled to it. Which you fully do, by the way.” Ginny fired back. Ron just sulked looking slightly hurt and not a little confused by his sisters accusations. He didn’t stay at the table much longer but said he was going to write a letter again and left. 

“Hermione is more than just her brain and one day he’s going to wake up and see that but it will be to late by then. I’m hoping if he realizes it now then maybe he’ll start treating her the way she deserves to be treated. She’s just as bad though, letting them take advantage of her like that. I think it’s because she thinks if she stops then they’ll no longer need to be friends with her, which is utterly ridiculous, but we all have our own insecurities so I don’t judge.” Ginny shared. 

The twins came in then, fresh from their showers and shaking water from their hair. They grabbed a plateful of sandwiches and kissed bother her and Ginny on the cheek before leaving again. 

“They’re probably going to lock themselves up in dad’s shed and work on one of their crazy new products.” Ginny told her. “Come on, let’s go pick some apples from the orchard. Mum said she bake a fresh pie for Bill since it’s his favorite and he’s coming for supper tonight.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the orchards, picking apples, and talking. When they went back into the house with four full baskets Freya suddenly felt very tired and dizzy. She swayed and dropped one of her baskets, the apples rolling across the kitchen floor. She felt her knees start to buckle and braced herself for the inevitable fall but a strong arm caught her and held her upright until her vision cleared and she could stand on her own again. 

“Alright there, love?” A deep voice echoed in her ears and she looked up to see a ginger she hadn’t met yet. He had long hair pulled back into a bun and a gold earring with a fang on it hanging from his ear. 

“Yes. I think I’m ok. It must’ve been the heat and all the exercise from the day catching up with me.” She answered. “You must be Bill Weasley. I’m Freya St. James, pleasure to meet you.”

“So you’re the dragon girl then?” He looked her over. “Charlie is going to lose it.” He mumbled before stepping back from her and holding out his hand for her to shake. 

“Mr. Scamander talked to Dumbledore about you and Albus asked me to check you for any dark or unstable magic that could have latched onto you after your incident. I’m a cursebreaker for Gringotts and since you’re a friend of the families he felt that you might be more comfortable with me doing it than a random stranger from the ministry or Mungos.” 

She had already gone through extensive magical screening with Madam Vane back home but she was a healer and Freya thought it couldn’t hurt to get a cursebreakers opinion on things. Bill would definitely be looking at it from a completely different angle and could have some valuable insight for her so she consented.

“Of course. I think that’s actually quite a good idea. Maybe we could sit down and talk more about it after dinner? I’m still feeling a bit tired so I think I might go lie down and nap until then.” Freya smiled and then left Bill and Ginny in the kitchen to clean the apples and went upstairs to her room where she fell into her bed and passed out before she could get under the covers. 

***

By the time she woke the evening meal had come and gone. She laid in her bed in the dark and listened to Molly, Arthur, and Bill whisper about her where they stood in the hall just outside her door. 

“It’s not just exhaustion from the time difference, mum. This is something else. Albus told me what Mr. Scamander was able to tell him and, from what I heard, her magical signature should be much stronger than what's showing up on my scans right now.” Bill told them. 

“Perhaps her magic is just settling back to her normal levels. Might it be that the extra energy she absorbed during the event is only just now fading away?” Arthur asked.

“It could be that, yeah. But Dumbledore made it sound like her core had expanded and that her new baseline was significantly higher than it was before. He said when she bonded to the egg she experienced a magical infusion and the magic inside the egg merged with hers. It changed her magic somehow. Made it fuller, stronger, but also more wild and unpredictable.” Bill explained to his parents.

“Oh my word.” Molly gasped. “Well, what can we do to help her? Will she be like this for long do you think?”

“I’m not sure, Mum.” Bill sighed. ”I’d really like to talk to her myself and get her account of events. Maybe something got lost between Mr. Scamander telling Dumbledore and Dumbledore telling me. I’m gonna go in and check on her one more time before I head home for the night.”

Bill pushed open the door and Freya sat up in the bed and leaned back against the headboard. 

“Oh good, you’re awake! Gave us a bit of a scare when Ginny came downstairs to tell us she couldn’t rouse you earlier. The twins wanted to call a healer right away.” He sat on the edge of her bed and waited for her to respond. 

“I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think you’re right. This is more than just the time change.” She said. 

“Heard that, did you? To be entirely truthful, Dumbledore thought there might be more to it that what the initial findings were. That’s one of the reasons he asked me to check up on you. When we’ve been exposed to large amounts of magic like you were, there can be residual effects. Things that take time to develop. Your healers report said you felt fine immediately after the event and didn’t show any concerning signs or symptoms in the days that followed so they thought you’d be good to go.”

“That’s true.” She said. “I was fine. There was nothing I could feel that was out of the ordinary for me. I mean, like you said, my magic felt a little different but not in any kind of alarming way. And no one really seemed all that concerned about it since I appeared physically and mentally healthy. Madame Vane said core growth was common enough and that my magic should settle into the extra space without complication.” 

“She wasn’t wrong exactly, but your core didn’t expand through the normal means. Usually that happens when witches or wizards reach their maturity and even then the core only grows a fraction of what you experienced. There are other ways to gain more powerful magic, of course. Certain dark rituals, blood runes, sacrificial magic, closely guarded pureblood family spells. But those things always come with a counterbalance. They leave a mark on the soul. Damage it in ways we don’t always understand and can’t anticipate. Sometimes it’s generational as well. The price for power so steep it needs to be paid out over more than a single lifetime.” He informed her gently. He didn’t want to scare her but she needed to know more than what she had been told.

“Do you...do you think my soul has been damaged?” She whispered. Bill reached out then and placed a warm comforting hand on her knee and gave a slight squeeze. She looked up at him then and he smiled softly.

“No. I don’t think your soul has been damaged at all, and to be frank that kind of leaves me with more questions than answers. Would you mind if I cast a few quick spells over you to see if I can clear a few things up?” 

She shook her head giving him permission to go ahead. He asked her to lay down flat and relax her body and mind. He stood beside the bed and raised his wand passing it over her from her head down to her toes and back up several times as he chanted the first spell. Seven colorful balls of light rose up in a line from her body. He checked each one, prodding them gently with the tip of his wand and taking note of any fluctuations in color or brightness. 

“What do the colors mean?” She asked.

“These represent the different energy centers of your body. The colors can change depending on specific physical, emotional, or spiritual variables. There's actually one hundred and fourteen total. These are the main seven. I’ll also take a look at the twenty one secondary ones and the eighty six tertiary ones as well. They can help me see into the health of your magical energy system. All of these channels are interconnected and react to the vibrations and energies of our environment. The quality of the energy flow directly influences how we perceive and experience our magic on  multiple levels so it’s important to make sure they’re all open and functioning how they should be.” He told her.

She nodded along and watched closely as he flicked his wand again and the main seven orbs disappeared to be replace by a group of twenty one hovering lights. These were smaller but no less bright. Bill studied them closely and then banished them before casting once more to draw out the largest group. It was beautiful to see her magic represented in this way. Eighty six tiny firefly sized stars flickering brightly over her skin. 

Bill banished the spell and then cast one more. A complicated diagnostic matrix that cursebreakers used to help them map the magical threads of curses, complex wards, and other advanced spells. 

“Nothing is blocked and everything looks as it should. I can see the bond Dumbledore mentioned. It seems a bit strained and I think that being away from the magic in the egg that bonded to you has had some adverse effects that no one thought about when they decided to separate you. I think you’ll be alright for another day or two but the tiredness probably won’t go away until you can get back to the egg. The strain on your energy now is probably a warning sign. A call to try and get you back in close range. It’s the bond letting you know it needs you. If I had to guess, from what Dumbledore and Mr. Scamander have said and what my own readings tell me,  I’d say it’s designated you as it’s protector and it’s gifted you with stronger magic so you can keep it safe while it’s in such a vulnerable state. Having you so far away goes directly against the bond and unsettles the magic between you.”

Freya sat up and just stared at Bill. She was stunned. It seemed Dumbledore, who she hadn’t even met yet, and Mr. Scamander had been discussing this quite thoroughly but hadn’t thought to share any of this information with her. She was glad that Bill thought enough of her to be open and honest about what was happening to her. He was tactful and she could tell he didn’t want to freak her out, but he still explained everything as clearly as he could. He didn’t sugar coat it or try to downplay the facts. 

“This is a lot to process. I’m not sure how I feel right now. Are you saying the dragon in the egg latched onto my magic in some sort of parasitic way? It’s hurting me because I’ve gone too far from it? Do you think...will it always be like this? Will I never be able to stray from it’s side? What happens when it hatches? I can’t just go around with a dragon all the time!” She groaned her exasperation and flopped back onto the bed covering her face with her hands. 

“For now I think you just need a bit of a magical energy boost and there are a number of ways we can help you with that, so don’t worry. I’ll talk to Mum and Dad and we’ll get that sorted but it could take a little time depending on which route we think will work out the best for you. To that end I think we need to get Charlie here sooner rather than later. I know he wasn’t meant to arrive until the end of the week but the sooner we can get you to Romania and relieve the tension on your bond, the better.” He was doing his best ti be reassuring and she appreciated that. She knew the Weasley’s would do their best to take care of her and Bill seemed to know what he was talking about.

“As for the rest of your concerns, I don’t think the bond is parasitic. I don’t even think it could hurt you as that would go against the nature of the bond. It’s meant to be more symbiotic. Mutually beneficial. Right now the dragon is in a vulnerable state until it hatches and since you aren’t with it I think it’s drawing on your magic more to strengthen the natural protections around it. When you return to it then it should ease up significantly. In fact, I think it will return what it took from you at least threefold. As far as what will happen when it hatches, Charlie will know much much more than I ever will. I’m sure he’ll do his very best to explain what he can and help you figure out the rest.” He stood then and made to leave. 

“I’ll leave you to get some rest and process what you can. I know this is a lot but you’re smart and strong. You can handle this, Freya. And you’ve got us Weasley’s to help you out and we’re a handy lot to have behind you.” Bill left then  and Ginny came in not long after to get ready for bed. 

They laid there in the dark room and Freya’s mind was working overtime with all the new information to consider. If Ginny tried to talk to her she didn't hear her. She couldn’t stay awake for long after Ginny blew out the bedside candle. The darkness claimed her and she fell into dreams full of colorful stars, redheads with blue eyes, and dragons.