Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

                                                                                                                                                      Milton, 01/07/2023

My beloved Freya, my sweet rose,

I thereby leave you my house, and everything inside.

Though my heart and soul will permeate its walls forever, it is now yours to call it "Home".

Talk to it, and it will respond to you.

Sing in it, and it will dance for you.

Protect it, and it will protect you.

Make it yours, my Sunshine, as it is meant to be.

I love you dearly.

Nana. 

   It had been a month since that rainy day of July when, for the first time in almost a century, Hestia Blake had not woken up at dawn to watch the sun rise behind the trees. She had left almost everything to her granddaughter Freya. All of her belongings, her whole history, her whole heart and soul, everything was there.

After her grandfather’s disappearance and a break-up two years ago, Freya knew where her calling was and moved in with her grandmother. She left the capital, her friends and parents behind, but being far from the urban agitation was not a problem for her. In fact, spending her entire day in her workshop, patiently cleaning and restoring ancient books and paper objects with only the soft humming of her grandmother over the radio as company was all she had ever wished for. She took care of Hestia and the house, cleaning, repairing, working in the garden, and established her workshop in the extension, left empty by her Papa. There she spent what she qualified as the quietest and happiest years of her life. Freya cherished her independence and her slow life with her beloved Nana.

  No one objected to the matriarch’s decisions regarding her legacy when the solicitor announced them. Freya’s mum and uncles knew she was the right person to take care of the house that saw all of them grow, and even helped her with the procedures. At 28 years old, Freya Toscani was Hestia Blake’s only grand-child, and the new owner of 4, Birdbush Road, Milton, Cambridgeshire, a charming little one-story house in the middle of a plot of land, not far from Cambridge.

  The house had been left untouched since that very day of July when Freya had unknowingly said good night to her grandmother for the last time the night before. Hestia left peacefully, with a serene smile on her face and a note under her hand. When she found her, Freya kneeled down next to her bed and cried for hours, telling her all her secrets while stroking her amazingly white hair. She knew. They both knew this day was close, and though her heart was shattered, Freya was happy and relieved her Nana had left on her own terms, how she had always said she would. In her home, in her bed, in her sleep, healthy and happy. One cycle had ended, another one had to commence.

  Freya had then called her family, all her Nana’s friends, her doctor, and all came to cry, laugh, thank her and kiss her one last time.

  The funeral gathered hundreds of people. The whole town came to pay homage. Freya had never seen so many living people in a cemetery, even people she had never met or seen around the town. One group in particular stood out. They presented themselves as colleagues of her grandmother, they had worked with her for decades and she was one of the greatest professional and human they had ever met. That appeared weird to Freya, because Hestia Blake had worked her whole life a teacher in the town’s elementary school, and she had never mentioned or presented these people to her. She had turned towards her mother Valeria, and noticed her expression which was as confused as hers, but chose not to question it. They were here to say farewell, and that was all that mattered.

  After that, Freya had put her projects on hold and spent three weeks in her mother’s home, in suburban London. Grief is lighter when it’s shared.

  She had come back to her house just four days ago. An overwhelming feeling of emptiness took over her when she took the first step inside. Hestia Blake was dead, and her house had died with her. Everything was still, silent, stale. The colors on the walls, usually so vivid, seemed to have faded. The light didn’t shine through like it used to. Everything looked grey and cold. The whole house seemed to have lost its soul, stuck in time, stuck on that fateful day of July.

  The first day, Freya had avoided her Nana’s bedroom, walking past it fast to reach her own room, not even looking at it. She had to face that room at some point, that bed where she had seen her Nana for the last time. The next day, determined, she had stood behind the door for several minutes, swallowing back sobs, fighting against avoidance and denial, but reconsidered and ran down the stairs, tears streaming down her face. She wasn’t ready yet. On the third day, after spending the night on the sofa with the TV  on as background noise, she had slowly climbed up the stairs and stood behind the door, once again. She had to face it. She had put her hand on the handle, taken a deep breath, and pushed it open, quickly, abruptly, slamming it against the wall and… It was just a room, where everything was left in place, just like the rest of the house, except for the bedsheets. Someone had taken them out and the mattress and pillows were bare, thank God. The smell of her Nana’s eau de toilette lingered, which had given Freya a surprising and pleasant feeling of reassurance. She had walked towards the window and opened it, letting the fresh air flow inside. Clearing the space. It was time to let go. And now, a day later she was sitting on the floor of her grandmother’s bedroom, surrounded by stacks of folders, photo albums, pictures, and the lingering smell of wood and jasmine

***

   Freya had spent the day going through memorabilia, objects of all sorts, clothes, and books, carefully placing them in conservation boxes she would store in the basement. They would have better chances at surviving the inexorable throes of time there. Protected from light and dust.  Only now had she found the strength to tackle the tedious task of sorting everything out. There was still so much to do.

  While searching her grandmother’s side of the wardrobe the day before, Freya had stumbled upon a box, one she had never seen before. For hours she had tried to open it, but it had remained resolutely closed. What differentiated it from a plain block of wood, she didn’t know. She just knew it was a box, and she had to open it. It was sitting there, next to her, while she carefully wrapped a stack of old pictures in craft paper and placed them in the box. She would take care of it tonight. She still had tears to shed for the time being.

  The sky had gotten dark when she finally raised her head from her labour. It was the middle of August, nights were getting shorter, but it still must have been late. She took her phone out of her back pocket and looked at the time. 9:46 pm. She rubbed her face and her eyes.

  ‘Okay.’, she whispered to herself. Time to stop and eat something. Her stomach confirmed by a soft rumbling. She looked around. The box was still there, waiting for her. She stood up, picked it up, and walked out the door.

***

  Freya sat down on the sofa, placing her plate on the coffee table in front of her computer.  She would eat, finish the episode she had started this morning, then take care of the box. She had put it next to her, very close, as if she was scared it would grow legs and run away. She was strangely attracted to it, and her grandmother wouldn’t have left it in plain sight if it didn’t have any kind of importance. She had read through the excruciatingly long list of belongings indexed in the attestation of inheritance but found nothing about a long wooden box.

  She ate hastily, without even taking the time to chew her food. Tonight was the night she would know what was inside, even if it meant taking drastic measures. She swallowed the last remainder of her dinner, threw her fork on her empty plate, and took the box on her lap.

  It was a rectangular piece of wood, that resembled the kind fancy boxes watches are sold in. But this one was long, too long to contain a watch. A necklace maybe ? The box was made of a bare, dark reddish brown wood, seemingly untouched by time. It was a seamless, perfectly handcrafted object. Quite light, but heavy enough to indicate that there was something of value inside. An unexplainable warm feeling was emanating from it. She could feel her fingertips tingling lightly every time she touched it. She turned it around several times, looking again for any sort of clues, to no avail.

  Again, just like she had done repeatedly for the past 24 hours, she tried pulling on the top. Still no lid. Again, she looked for a crease, something to push, to pull, to unfold, but nothing. No keyhole either. The box was sealed shut.

  What could there be inside ? Perhaps a precious piece of jewelry, or maybe just matches. Secret pictures ? Maybe it isn't meant to be seen ? Either way, it had become an obsession. She had to know. She held it in front of her eyes.

  ‘I know you’re hiding something.’, she said out loud.

  She put it on the coffee table. Maybe she should break it, just enough to weaken the joints and find a crack. She stood up and marched toward the door leading to the basement stairs. She opened it, rummaged through the toolbox sitting on the first step against the wall, and took the hammer out. Back in the living room, she sat on the ground and placed the box in front of her. She started hitting one of its corners, softly at first, but it wouldn’t bulge. She hit harder, but still nothing happened, not a dent, not even a mark.

  ‘Ugh ! Come on !’, she groaned through her teeth.

  She held the box firmly with one hand, and lifted the hammer high above her head, determined to make at least a little bit of damage, and gave it a strong smash, hurting her arm in the process.

  But nothing. It was untouched. How was that even possible ?

  ‘Who in the sweet hell would make a box that does not open ?’, she asked out loud, frustrated and confused.

  She sighed heavily, defeated.

  ‘Maybe you're just a simple, dumb block of wood, after all.’

  She sat there in silence for a moment.

  Nobody knew about it either. She had sent a picture of it on the family group chat, hoping to get answers, but no one was able to give her more information, apart from the fact that Nana liked to collect weird objects and probably had found it at a fair, or during one of her many trips a long time ago.

  It was true, the house was filled with all sorts of curiosities from almost every country of the world. The living room bookcase contained books in every language, the walls were decorated with dozens of paintings, pictures, and drawings of unknown places and artists. The ornate wallpaper covering every wall of the house left no respite to the eye. Everywhere the gaze wandered, there was something to look at, like an ancient miniature museum. But Freya liked it. You could never get bored in this house. Every corner, from the beamed ceilings to the flowery rugs, provided stimulation to the curious mind. Sure, some of the furniture needed a serious upgrade, but overall, her house was warm, beautiful, bright, and exquisitely decorated.

  None of these thousands of objects ever had this much pull on Freya, however. This one was special. Not only because she could not open it, but because something in it called her.

  She pondered as she started mindlessly caressing the box, feeling its smooth surface and the delicate ridges of the wood. She ran her fingers gently on the top, when suddenly,

Click.

Chapter Text

  Freya was sitting straight on the sofa, unsure about what had just happened. A minuscule, but incredibly detailed golden handle had appeared on the left side of the box. Stunned, she slowly lifted it, and tilted it to have a closer look.     

  ‘What the — ?’    

  It surely wasn’t there before. She inspected the side of the box, in search of traces of a hidden mechanism she would have missed, but yet again, found nothing. The handle had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, almost magically.

  Carefully, almost trembling, she pulled on it. The box opened like a matchbox. The first thing she saw was a golden piece of velvet, beautiful, shimmering. Her heart was racing. She pulled again and let out a gasp.

  Resting on the golden velvet was a thin, long, cylindrical piece of wood. Freya frowned. What in the hell could that be ? It didn’t have a blade, therefore it couldn’t be a dagger, or even a letter opener. She thought about her grandfather, who was particularly passionate about classical music and used to wave around like a conductor, standing in front of his record player, eyes closed, focused and immersed in the melodies. Could that be a conductor’s baton ? It looked like it, though it seemed a little too thick. But she found it in her Nana’s belongings, and she had never seen her Papa use it.

  The warmth in her heart was stronger than ever though, and she felt like it was, strangely enough, connected to that object. It was calling her.

  She put the open box down on the coffee table, took a deep breath, and hesitantly reached for it. As soon as her fingers closed in on it, an electric shock traversed her whole body, the warmth in her heart turned into a fantastic bonfire fueled by a powerful windstorm and spread everywhere. The whole room seemed warm, the walls, the furniture, the plants, the whole house, everything came alive and breathed for a moment; everywhere she looked, she could see specks of yellow light swirling in front of her eye like a golden rain. Her hand was clasping the wand, and she could not let go, as if it was commanding her not to. A turmoil of emotions raced through Freya's head, and she couldn't decipher whether she was terrified or euphoric, as adrenaline ran through each one of her veins, expanding her lungs. She breathed like she had never breathed before, fully, completely, a fresh and life-giving air. Everything seemed clearer, brighter, extraordinary.

  Then, progressively, everything settled down. The windstorm stopped, the bonfire shrank and went back to its original size, although it seemed more stable now. Almost like it had elected permanent residence inside Freya's chest. She knew at that very moment, in an inexplicable way, that it would never leave her ever again. The specks of light disappeared slowly, and seemed to penetrate every surface of the house, including Freya. Everything was calm now.

   Freya was still holding the wand in her lifted arm and was breathing heavily.

  ‘What. In the bloody hell…’, she said aloud.

  She took a closer look at the object. On a soft pinkish brown wood, was carved an incredibly detailed and delicate botanic pattern. At the base, she could distinctly see grass, flowers, leaves, bugs, and fine vines spiraling up to the tip, also adorned with leaves and flowers. The base was larger than the tip, and the carvings formed what looked like a handle, which fit perfectly in her left hand.

  She couldn't explain how or why, but she felt like a bond had been created between this curious object and her. It was just a wood stick she had no idea existed just hours ago and yet, she felt deeply linked to it. When she held it, it emitted some kind of warm vibration that radiated in her arm. Even though she tried to reason with herself she knew, in her core, that she hadn't hallucinated what had just happened. It was real.

***

  It was 11:30 when Freya woke up the next morning. Dazed, she turned and blindly rummaged through the sheets to find her phone, but it was nowhere to be found. She sat up, surprised to be in her bedroom, and looked over to the old digital alarm clock on her desk.

  ‘Shit !’

  She had slept for 14 hours straight.

  She looked around, confused. The room was bright, filled with sunlight. The sun catcher next to her window was casting dozens of luminous dots of various colours on her soft green walls. She hadn't closed the shutters nor the blinds. She put her face in her hands, trying to recollect the recent events when she realized that she hadn't even taken her clothes off. She was still wearing the outfit from the night before, her yellow sundress, and hadn’t even taken off her earrings.

‘Really ?’ she whispered.

  She looked around once again, her bedroom door was wide open. Her eyes wandered back to the bed and she saw it. The baton ! She had slept with it next to her.

  "You're still there..." she said softly, relieved.

  As hard as she tried to remember, she had no recollection of what happened after what now felt like a fever dream. How did she even end up in her bedroom? She also tried to remember if she had dreamt of anything during the night, but nothing came. Just deep, silent, heavy sleep. She grabbed the baton and felt the familiar warm vibration in her hand again.

  ‘Wow, you're still there !’, she whispered excitedly.

  It was no fever dream, it had happened.

   After she changed her clothes and splashed fresh water on her face, she came down the stairs carefully, holding her breath, walking slowly, and listening to every sound. She could swear she saw the whole house come alive the night before, and even though she felt absolutely stupid for it, she was actually afraid to wake it up.

  But everything was calm and quiet. Almost as if the house was holding its breath, and observing Freya too. Holding the wand firmly against her, she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, crossed the small hallway, and entered the living room. She looked around, nothing out of the ordinary, except maybe...

  Wait.

  The coffee table was clean. Her plate and cup were gone though she didn't remember taking them away. She couldn't see her computer either. She looked over at the dining table, and there it was ! Closed, next to her notebooks and pencil case where she usually sat to work, all perfectly in order. As a matter of fact, the whole living room seemed tidier and cleaner than it ever was since she had come back in the house. She slowly pivoted on herself, confused, and headed to the kitchen at the end of the hallway. She scoped the room, not exactly knowing what she was looking for, until her gaze reached the sink. There were her plate and cup, washed and drying on the dish rack. She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, deploying extraordinary efforts of concentration to recall how her night ended. She couldn't remember herself doing any cleaning at all.

  She pulled a chair from under the kitchen table and let herself fall on it. She put the wooden stick in front of her and observed it, feeling her brain starting the boil with an alarming amount of questions.

  What happened ? What is this ? Why-

  Her phone rang somewhere in the living room.

  ‘Shit !’, she jumped.

  She ran around frantically, following the source of the sound, and found it next to her computer. She looked at the screen.

  ‘Mum !’

  She panicked. What should she do ? Should she tell her everything ?

  She picked up.

  ‘Hello ? Mum ?’

  ‘Yes, honey, it's me! How are you? I texted you last night about the documents you need to send me, but you didn't respond. I was worri-‘

  ‘Yes, I'm sorry, I saw your texts, but I, err… I fell asleep really early and only woke up, like, an hour ago’, Freya stammered.

  ‘Oh honey, you must be exhausted, I know. I'm not sleeping well either. But you really need to send me those documents today, I'm going to the solicitor tomorrow. This succession issue needs to be sorted out fast so that we can actually breathe a little. This is excruciating...

  ‘I will, Mum’, Freya replied in a resigned voice.

They both paused for a moment. Freya was thinking fast.

  Should I tell her or not ?

  Finally, she broke the silence.

  ‘Mum ?’

  ‘Yes, honey?

  ‘Did Nana ever mention any... extraordinary stuff to you about the house ?’

  ‘What kind of extraordinary stuff, sweetheart? If you're asking if she's ever told me that fairies lived in the garden, then yes, she has! But I reckon she did the same with you !’ her mum replied, laughing. ‘Why ?’

  ‘Yes, I've heard about them too.’, Freya chuckled, ‘But, err... No, just... Weird stuff has been happening.’

  ‘What is it, my baby? What kind of weird stuff? You seem all flustered all of a sudden. Are you safe ?’

  What do I do ?!

  ‘Um…' Freya hesitated. She didn't want her mother to think she had gone insane, but she couldn’t keep this to herself.

  ‘I found something strange in Nana's stuff yesterday. A sort of… wand.’

  A wand. The word came out of her mouth before she could even think about it. She continued. ‘It was in the box I’ve asked you about in the group chat, you know ?’

  ‘A wand ? Oh !’, Valeria burst out laughing, ‘You’ve found Nana's infamous wand ! She used to wave it around when your uncles and I were being naughty, she would threaten to make slugs come out of our mouths with it ! She never did of course, but it was enough to make us behave for at least five minutes ! I don't know where she got it from, but it was there before me. Papa used to say she would spook pushy blokes with it. He said he was the only one she didn't manage to scare away, and that's how they ended up together. I'm surprised you've never seen it before.’

  Freya laughed. She could perfectly picture her grandmother doing that.

  ‘Wow, okay ! Well no, I’ve never seen it before. Actually, this is the first time I hear those stories !’

  ‘Your Nana was an odd character, there was something whimsical, almost… magical to her.’

   Valeria fell silent. Freya could tell her mother was repressing tears.

  ‘She was truly a great woman. And a great mother. I miss her so much…’

   Hearing her mum's voice break brought tears to Freya's eyes. She swallowed them.

  ‘So what about the weird stuff that has been happening, honey ?’, Valeria finally asked, clearing her throat.

  ‘Nothing serious, Mum’, Freya replied softly, ‘You know what ? I think I'm just really tired and sometimes I feel like I'm seeing things. Sleep deprivation causes hallucinations, they say.’, she joked after a pause.

  ‘Oh I see... I think you've been through a lot recently, your mind is probably playing tricks on you ! Or perhaps Nana's spirit is paying you a visit to make sure you're keeping her house spotless like she did ! It wouldn't be surprising if you ask me.’

They both laughed.

  ‘Probably, yes ! I think I just need to rest, really.’, Freya said, staring at the wand in front of her.

  'You do that, sweetheart. Take care of yourself and try to take your mind off things, okay ? But please don't forget the docu-

  ‘No, Mum, I won't forget the documents. You take care of yourself too.’

  ‘I will. I love you, honey.’

  ‘I love you too, Mum.’

Chapter Text

  Freya was sitting on a plastic chair in the garden. After speaking to her mother, she called both of her uncles, her mother's younger brothers. She asked them the same questions, mentioned the wand, the "extraordinary stuff" without going into details, and got the same answers, along with additional Nana-and-her-prop-wand anecdotes.

  None of them knew. None of them saw what she had seen. Or maybe they did, but they had decided that Freya shouldn't be made aware of it, for some reason. But why would they keep this a secret, knowing Freya was the new owner of the house and would have discovered it anyway ? And why would they keep denying, now that she had discovered something, if they knew ?

  They don't know.

  She was alone in this, for now at least. Freya thought she had never been this confused and lost in her entire life.

  The weather was amazing. It was one of those bright, cloudless days, and the warmth of the sun on her cheeks appeased her troubled mind a little.

  She remained there for a moment, trying to clear her head, to make some space to tackle this new and unexpected situation. She couldn't make sense of what happened. She felt it, this... power through her veins, her head, her mind. Every time touched the wand, this unexplainable feeling radiated through her. A warmth, a vibration she had never felt before.

Her stomach growled. She looked at the time.

Almost 3 already !

  She hadn't eaten since the night before and was starting to feel dizzy. She stood up and went back inside through the back door that opened directly onto the kitchen. She opened the fridge and was disappointed to find it empty of anything enticing. She sighed. She craved something that would fill her stomach and comfort her anxiety.

  She grabbed her bag, tossed her phone, wallet and the wand in it, got on her bike, and took the road to the city. 

***

  The crowded pedestrian streets of the city center, filled with rumor, music, and various smells felt like a breath of fresh air. Finally, she could sense a bit of normality. A bit of life. She got off her bike, locked it to a fence, and turned into the first street on her left. A multitude of tiny shops and restaurants lined each side of a narrow roadway. She swayed through the crowd and arrived at "Mickey's", a tiny restaurant renowned for serving the city's best homemade burgers and fries. The establishment used to be an apothecary, where Freya often went with her grandparents when she was a child. After the previous owners' disappearance, it had been bought and renovated, but the original shopfront and interior layout had been conserved, with its hand-painted sign above the tall lattice windows, and the massive wood counter at the very back of the room. She crossed the dining room, where the old shelves had also been kept, but were now filled with plastic plants and thrifted junk, which Freya found tasteless.

  Despite the late hour, the restaurant was still filled with patrons chatting actively. The owner was behind the counter, visibly fulminating while aggressively tapping on a screen. Freya walked up to him.

  ‘Hey Mikey !’ she said with a bright smile.

  Mickey raised his sullen face and looked at her for a brief second. His eyes brightened.

  ‘Frey !’, he exclaimed, returning her smile, ‘Long time no see !’

  ‘Indeed ! Still struggling with your POS system ?'

  ‘Ugh, tell me about it ! That goddamn Point of Sale system, more like a Piece of Shit system, if ye ask me !’

  Freya burst out laughing.

  ‘Do you think you could ask it to register one more order ? Is the kitchen closed already ?’, she asked.

  ‘Eh, you're really getting comfortable here, aren't ya ?’, he replied in a reproachful tone.     

  Taken aback, Freya started fumbling an apology, but was quickly interrupted.

  ‘Relax, I'm just messing with ya ! I guess I could ask Toby to fix you a little something, I'm sure he'll be happy to do it.’, Mickey winked with a mischievous grin on his boor face.

  Freya turned her head and looked over to the hatch, where she could see the cooks rushing to close the kitchen as fast as possible. Toby was one of them, and when he heard his name, he raised his head and locked eyes with Freya. She turned pale.

  ‘Toby !’, Mickey roared, ‘We've got one last order, give me a-‘, he turned his head to look at Freya, ‘What it is you want ?’

  Freya hesitated. What was he doing here ? She considered leaving, but he would be delighted to see her all flustered. She was too proud to give him this pleasure. And too hungry.

  ‘A cheeseburger with sweet potato fries. Please.’, she muttered, disconcerted.

  ‘A cheese and sweet potato, Toby !’, he roared even louder.

  Toby nodded silently, looked at Freya, and smirked. She was extremely uncomfortable. She didn't expect to see him. He was supposed to have left the country.

  ‘You took Toby back ?' she asked Mickey as low as she could, puzzled.

  'Yeah, thought I'd give him a second chance. He's got a real talent, patrons are never happier than when he's the one behind the line. But he's not allowed to go anywhere near the register now, and never left alone. Here, take a seat, it'll be ready in 10 minutes.’

  Freya paid and sat down at the table next to the counter, facing the exit. Toby was the reason she had been avoiding Mickey's for months. They had met a year ago, at this exact place. She had come alone one night, after a long car trip. They first saw each other through the same hatch she had just seen him, and he had come out of the kitchen to bring her her dish himself, along with a note.

'I'm Toby, need a personal chef ?'

  Amused and intrigued, she had written back 'Why not ?', added her phone number and left it on the counter when she paid. Later that night, she received her first text from him, which began a passionate but rather short-lived love story. She replayed the whole scenario in her head.

  What a complete arse. Can't believe he's here, the last thing I needed was to see his little rat face ! Can't believe Mickey even took him back !

  Freya was shivering with anger and discomfort, nervously biting her thumbnail. Her eyes were locked on the open entrance door. She couldn't wait to get her food and leave.

  She took interest in two women standing on the other side of the street, and who seemed to be looking directly inside the restaurant. One of them was tall, slim, and dressed very elegantly, with an all white ensemble composed of a blazer, open on a flowy blouse tucked inside high-waisted straight pants and honey brown leather boots. Her dark skin contrasted beautifully with her attire. The other one, however, had a drastically different sense of style. She was significantly shorter than the first one, looked like she had picked the first clothes that came at hand in a thrift shop, and assembled them randomly to create the weirdest-looking outfit Freya had ever seen.

  ‘Your meal is served, my lady.’

  Freya jumped and turned her head. There he was. Toby was standing way too close over her, a hand on the back of her chair, and looking down at her with dark eyes that looked like two black marbles. He was holding the paper bag containing her food.

  ‘Made with love.’, he added with his habitual smirk.

  Freya remained still, staring at him silently through her eyebrows. Her breath got shorter. Toby smiled, uncovering a row of perfect teeth and two pointy canines. She had fallen for them a year ago, but now... Now she found them hideous, almost predatory.

 ‘I'm glad to see your pretty face again, I've missed it, to be honest.’ he said softly with a husky voice, still grinning.

  Determined not to give him any more of her attention, Freya stood up, tried to grab the bag out of his hand but he was faster, and he pulled it out of her reach.

  Freya felt rage welling within her, like lava ready to explode out of a volcano.    

  ‘I am not playing with you, Tobias.’, she growled through her teeth.

  ‘Aw, come on Frey, don't be like that !’, he replied in an appeasing tone, laying his hand on her arm, ‘I just wanted to talk, please don't be mad, I-‘ 

  She didn't let him finish, she shook her arm free, pushed him with her elbow, and finally snatched the bag.

  ‘Ow ! Hey, no need to-‘

  ‘Fuck. Off.’

  She spewed those two words in his face with such vitriol it left him speechless. She stormed out, leaving an uncomfortable silence and a stunned Toby inside the restaurant.

  This couldn't get any worse.

  What a fucking bastard ! The fucking nerve of this arsehole !

  She was furious. After all he had put her through in their short time together, even after she had blocked him everywhere and told him she never wanted to see his face again, he still had the audacity to try and seduce her.

  Freya walked fast, her food bag in one hand, wiping the tears off her cheeks with the other.

  She made her way through the street, passed by her bike, sped up through the crossroad without even looking around, and made a beeline towards the river banks. There she found an empty bench and sat down, throwing the bag next to her.

  She looked at it and wondered what she should do with it: eat it or throw it in the trash. The simple idea that he had touched her food - let alone made it ! - disgusted her. But hunger quickly took over anything else. She opened the bag, took out the burger and fries, and started eating furiously.

  Fuck. This is amazing.

  The first bite filled her mouth with powerful flavors, and her brain with an equally powerful shot of dopamine.

  You vicious motherfucker, how are you so good ?

  She devoured it, hardly chewing, and in minutes her hands were empty. She sighed deeply and threw her head back, satisfied. She could feel her whole body absorb the nutrients she had just fed it, and she calmed down. Toby was as good at making food as he was at making her come.

  ‘God I hate you, Tobias Gaunt.’ she mumbled to herself, looking at the sky.

***

  She spent a fair amount of time there, on the bench, silently watching the river water flow serenely, rehashing everything, over and over again. 

  Finally, she took her phone out of her bag. 4:25 PM.

  She didn't want to come home yet, she needed to take a break and forget all her inconveniences, for a few hours at least. She would spend the rest of the afternoon browsing the city-center shops.

  Back near the fence she had locked her bike to, she turned into the main street again. As she passed Mickey's, she sped up, looking right in front of her, and raised her middle finger, just in case Tobias was there to see her.

  She went in and out of the main street various shops, chatting with the merchants, browsing their merchandise. She even bought a book and a pair of crystal earrings. This was the first time she actually took some time for herself in months.

  The bell tower tolled six o'clock when she came out of a bakery with a raspberry tart in her hand. She made her way back to her bike, looking around in case Tobias reappeared. Thankfully, he did not. As she was crouching, struggling to unblock her bike lock, she heard a voice behind her.

  'Excuse me ?'

  Freya quickly turned around.

  'Yes ?', she replied, startled.

  A tall, slim, dark-skinned woman was standing in front of her. 

  'Are you Freya Toscani ?', she asked, her extraordinary yellow eyes piercing through Freya's.

Chapter Text

   Oh, what now ?

  Freya took the time to assess her interlocutors. Two women. One tall and elegant and the other, short and scruffy.

  'Why ?' Freya replied, wary.

  'We'd like to talk to you, if that's okay with you. We are no threat.', the tall woman replied in a tone that actually made her believable. Freya relaxed a little.

  'Err... I am Freya Toscani, yes. Who are you ? What do you want to talk to me about ?'

  A genuine smile appeared on the tall woman's face.

  'I'm Nephelia Igwe, and this is my colleague, Elfia Campbell.', she announced enthusiastically. The shorter woman nodded knowingly. Nephelia Igwe took a little notepad out of her blazer and read what was written on it.

  'You're Hestia Blake's granddaughter, right ? My sincerest condolences.'

  Freya blinked rapidly and stepped back. This was getting creepy.

  'Did you know her ? How do you know my name ? I saw you standing outside Mickey's, what do you want from me ?' she asked, feeling her emotions taking over her rationale. She tried her best to remain calm in appearance, but she was internally freaking out.

  Nephelia Igwe raised her hand in an appeasing gesture and smiled.

  'We will answer your questions, but we need to find a more discreet place first.'

  Freya was at the end of her rope. She was exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions she had been through in one single day. Her patience had run out.

  'Listen, no, I am not going anywhere. I've had a difficult day, I came here to relax and clear my head, and I'd like to go home right now. And frankly, this is creepy.', she replied with a stern voice. She felt terrible acting in that manner, but she just couldn't take anything else. This was too much. 

  'So you either answer my questions right here, right now, or we're done with this conversation.', she added in a much harsher voice than she intended. 

  Taken aback, the two women looked at each other, then back at Freya. She felt horrible.

   'Look, I'm terribly sorry', she finally said, 'I've had the strangest, weirdest, wackiest day, and I am exhausted. I just need to go home. Maybe I can give you my number and we can arrange a meeting for another day ?'

  The two women remained silent for a few seconds. Igwe was looking directly into Freya's eyes, which made her extremely uncomfortable and feel like she was trying to read her mind.

   'Let's do that, yes. We'll meet you tomorrow at 2 at the Ole Cooking Pot pub, right in front of Mickey's. Is that okay for you ?', Nephelia Igwe said, suddenly smiling again.

   Freya sighed, she couldn't see herself objecting to the meeting location.

  'Yes, alright.' she agreed reluctantly. She whipped out her phone. 'Let's exchange numbers, in case any of us had a change of plan or-'

  'We won't need it, thank you.', replied the shorter woman, replacing her purple scarf on her shoulder, 'We will be there at 2 without fail.'

  Elfia Campbell had none of her colleague's amiability. She seemed closed, churlish. She didn't seem to be a lot older than Freya and yet, her face was already marked with deep lines between the eyebrows and at the corner of her mouth. Her cold greyish eyes, paired with her pale and faded brown hair completed the portrait of a stern and harsh person. Freya immediately felt a visceral aversion for her. 

  'O-okay. Well then, see you tomorrow.', Freya said.

  'Absolutely.', Igwe replied, still with her mysterious smile.

  Freya turned around and grabbed her bike.

  'By the way, Miss Toscani... Make sure to bring that wand you're carrying to our meeting, but please refrain from using it until then. One mishap and you could get seriously injured.' Igwe said in a confidence tone.

Freya's heart dropped. She lowered her eyes towards her open bag where the tip of the wand was sticking out. Dumbstruck, she nodded silently.

  'And do not lose it, of course.', Campbell added in a dry voice.

  'Er... Yes, I’ll— I'll try my best.', Freya responded, distraught.

  'Good night, Miss Toscani.'

  'Good night.', Freya whispered, almost inaudibly.

  The two women turned around and disappeared around the corner. Stunned, Freya mechanically got on her bike and rode home.

***

   Freya passed the front door of her house and double-locked it behind her. She dragged herself through the corridor, entered the living room and flopped on the sofa. She felt like she had been through several spin-drying cycles of a washing machine. There were too many questions, but too little energy left to even address the simplest one of them. Without even taking her shoes off, she let herself fall on her side.

She remained like this for several minutes, in complete silence and growing darkness, just listening to her own breathing. She didn't even have the energy to think anymore. She let the warmth in her chest slowly envelop her whole body, and fell deeply asleep.

***

  She woke up, sore and drowsy, to her phone buzzing against her leg. She opened her eyes and realized she was in complete darkness.

  How long did I sleep ?!

  She sat up and frantically looked for her phone in her bag. Too late.

  Shit.

  Squinting her eyes, she read the time on her lock screen. 11:37 PM ! She turned the lights on and unlocked her phone.

  7 missed calls and 5 texts from her mother. She slapped her forehead.

  'The documents, I forgot ! What an idiot !'.

  But before she had reached the dining table to open her computer, she noticed she had two other missed calls from an unknown cell number. No voicemail. The last was the one that woke her up. Intrigued, she pondered whether or not she should call back. Who could be calling at this time ?

The unknown caller reacted first, and her phone buzzed again. She picked up.

Chapter Text

  'Hello ?'

  'Frey ?', replied a soft husky voice.

  'Who-...', she paused for a second. 'Tobias ?!'

  'Bingo ! I knew you'd recognize me.'

  Freya threw her head back and groaned loudly.

  'Whose phone have you stolen this time ? What the fuck do you want ?!', she screamed directly into the microphone.

  She knew she should have hung up immediately, but a part of her wanted to know what he had to say.

  'Hey, hey, please stop screaming, I come in peace.', he replied calmly.

  'The hell you are. Stop wasting my time. I'm hanging up.'

  'I'm outside your house.'

  'You what ?!'

  Freya ran to the window and parted the curtains. Tobias was there, under the warm light of a street lamp, leaning against a massive vintage motorbike she had never seen before, a dark backpack on his back. Freya felt her heart sink. Her Nana's voice resonated in her head.

 'That boy is nothing but pain and destruction.'

  'Go away.', she said coldly.

  He stood up and started walking towards her front gate. Freya froze.

  'Please, Freya, I just want to talk to you. I saw how angry you were today, and I realized how much I've hurt you... I want to apologize.'

  'Well, you just did. There, go home, bye.'

  'No, please, please Frey... I need to see you. There's something super important I need to tell you!'

  He was at the front gate, his hand on the handle. She was at the window but somehow, he didn't seem to see her.

  'I don't want to hear it. And- No, no, don't even think about opening that fucking gate, Tobias! Tobias !!!' Too late. He had hung up and was in her driveway. 'You fucking bastard !' she screamed, running to the front door. She slammed it open and jumped out, her fist in the air, ready to punch him square in the face but once again, he was faster and blocked her.

  'Freya, stop !', he scream-whispered, grabbing her wrists. In a split second, Freya found herself lifted in the air and pushed back inside the house. He dropped her and immediately closed the door behind him.

  'No !' she yelled. She swooped on him. 'You fucking psychopath! Get out of my house !', she roared, punctuating each word with a slap or a punch.

  Tobias was crouching, his arms wrapped around his head, taking each blow without retorting. When she finally stopped hitting him, exhausted, her hands sore, he peeked through his arms to look at her.

  'Can we talk now?' he asked, breathless.

  'Get out!!!' she yelled back, directly in his face.

  He fell on his backside against the front door and raised his arms in the air, pleading.

  'Listen to me, Frey... I-I'm sorry for everything that happened, tonight included. I had no other choice, you'd have never given me a chance to talk to you, and-'

  'You have just literally committed an offense, I could call the coppers and get you arrested right now.', she yelled, her phone in hand, 'I hope what you have to say is worth it because if not, you're going straight back to jail !'

  'Alright, alright, but please calm down, I mean no harm.'

  Tobias stood up slowly and faced Freya. She stepped backward to the kitchen entrance, looked him up and down, and swayed a little. Though she felt nothing but anger and distrust towards him at this very moment, this dark and mysterious beauty of his disconcerted her. His somber and piercing eyes, his jet black hair from which a few strands were falling on his forehead, his sweet, musky smell, and his low and husky voice, all of which she had once so passionately loved, troubled her profoundly.

… Pain and destruction…

   They looked like two aggressive cats, observing each other in silence, tense, moving slowly, ready to strike or block at any sudden move. He was slowly getting closer to her, his hands open in front of him to appease her.

  'Now speak.', she ordered.

  'Okay, okay...', he took a deep breath, 'Freya, I am awfully sorry for all the shit I put you through. A lot of things have happened while we were together, things I cannot tell you about, but you were caught in the crossfire and it was not my intention, at all.' He carefully articulated each word he spoke, almost whispering. 'I loved you Freya, and I still do. Seeing you today just made me realize how much I care about you. I understand your anger, I deserve it.'

  'Bullshit. If you did, in fact, love and care about me, why steal from me then? Why disappear without a trace, why try to break into my grandmother's house, why hide things from me, why blow hot and cold constantly and gaslight me into thinking I was the one overreacting ?! You psychologically abused me, you humiliated me, you cheated on me, Tobias! But you always had excuses. And the worst of it all is that I let you treat me and my grandma like shit for months! Because I fucking loved you, Tobias! You took advantage of me, and I fucking hate myself for ever letting you in my life. I am a grown woman, I should have known better than getting infatuated with a slithery snake like you! You've brought nothing but pain and destruction! All you tell is lies!' The more she spoke, the louder her voice got, and tears were starting to fall down her cheeks again. 'I don't even know how I fell for you, sometimes it felt like you had bewitched me or something...', she continued, crying, almost speaking to herself.

  Tobias flinched when he heard those last words. He cut her off.

  'Freya, I did not chea-'

  'Oh, cut the crap!', she yelled.

  'Listen, I was a dick. Okay ?', he took one step forward, 'I take complete responsibility for it, and I hate myself for it too. You're such an amazing person, so beautiful, so talented and smart, and-'

 ‘Don't you fucking try and bribe me with compliments.’, she rumbled through her clenched teeth.

  'Alright, I'm sorry.' He paused, and took another imperceptible step towards her, his eyes piercing through hers. His voice took an imploring tone. 'Look, this is why I wanted to see you. I want to explain myself so that maybe you can forgive me someday. I love you so much, and I've missed you so bad, you can't even imagine. That last few months have been the worst, for many reasons, and not having you with me was definitely one of them."

  All the while he spoke, he had continued to come nearer to Freya, slowly and steadily.    

  Before she could understand how he got this close to her, his hands were on her shoulders and his face was above hers. She was frozen in place, something inside of her was screaming to push him back, but her body was unresponsive. He pressed his hands on her arms, rubbing them gently with his thumbs. They were staring at each other in silence, she couldn't look away. She was starting to let her guard down. He had found a crack in her armor and he was, ever so slowly, diving into it.

  'I've missed you so much.', he said in a whisper imbued with sadness. She remained silent. In the corner of her eye, she saw his hand softly approach her face to caress it, but she dodged it. Tobias did not insist and dropped it. 'Hey, I've brought you something.', he said with a smile. He reached for his backpack, opened it, and took out a glass container, 'I remembered how you loved my chocolate fondant. I thought I'd bring one as some kind of… peace offering, you know ?'.

  He lifted the lid, and the most delicious chocolate scent instantly filled the hallway.

  Freya remained silent, defeated. Within her was raging the fiercest battle between her brain and her heart. She was still willing to resist him but her strength, affected by all she had gone through since the day before and the irresistible pull Tobias had on her, was decreasing rapidly.

  Finally, in one last-ditch effort to set firm boundaries, she said: 'You will sit down, and tell every-fucking-thing, and I want the whole truth.' She got in his face with her finger raised. 'The second I smell bullshit, you're out of here with coppers on your arse, am I clear ?'

  ‘I will tell you everything I can, I told you there were things I could not-‘

  ‘Am I fucking clear, Tobias?’, she repeated angrily through her teeth.

  Tobias sighed and nodded. ‘Yes ma’am.' he replied, resigned.

  She gestured for him to go sit on the couch in the living room. As he was moving, she remained still in the hallway. The warmth in her chest grew back instantly, and she had an intuition. Her bag was on the couch, and he was about to sit next to it. The wand was inside. She inexplicably knew that she had to hide it from him. 

  'Tobias.', she called. He turned around, surprised. 'Come back here and take your shoes off.'

  Tobias raised his eyebrows, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

  'Well, that will be impractical if I ever have to run away from the coppers.", he chuckled.

  'Just fucking do it.'

  He obliged and came back in the hallway. When his back was turned, she rushed in the living room, snatched her bag, and ran to the kitchen. She put her bag on the table, took out a cup from the cupboard, and turned the faucet on to pour herself a glass of water. While the water was running, she frantically looked around for a place to hide the wand. Finally, she decided to slip it behind a high stack of large plates, in the same cupboard she had taken the glass from. She closed it, turned the faucet off, took her filled cup, and joined Tobias in the living room.

  She pulled the coffee table as far as she could from the couch and sat on it, arms and legs crossed, facing him, and waited. He still had the open container in his hands.

  ‘Do you want a bite ?', he asked sheepishly pointing at the piece of cake.

  She did want a bite. In fact, she was starving, and the delicious smell of chocolate was overwhelming, but she was not willing to cut him any more slack. She bit her lip. Suddenly, another gut feeling took over her.

  ‘Take one first.’, she ordered him. He raised incredulous brows and smiled.

  ‘Oh, yes please.’, he chuckled, diving his hand into the container. He cut himself a piece and shoved it into his mouth, ‘Hmmm ! I think it's my best one so far.’, he said with his mouth full. ‘Everything is better when it's made with love.'

  Freya sat still, trying to remain as expressionless as possible. He cut another piece and handed it to Freya. She took it but kept it in her hand. He had to give her something first.

  ‘So, are you gonna talk or what ?’ she asked sternly. Tobias sighed and lowered his eyes.

  ‘While we were together... I've had to deal with a lot of issues involving my uncle Augustus. You know he's like a father to me. He took care of me after my father abandoned me and my mum. I've already told you that.' Freya nodded, ‘Well, as good of heart he might have, he's uh... Kind of a bad seed, I would say.’

  ‘Apples really do not fall far from the tree.’, Freya replied sarcastically.

  Tobias ignored her comment and continued.

  ‘He needed my help to get him out of tricky situations, and I have been involved in a few of them myself. That's why I disappeared regularly, and couldn't tell you anything about it. I didn't want you to get involved, and put you in potential danger.’

  Freya laughed.

  ‘What are you, Pablo Escobar ? Are you really trying to serve me that gangster kind of bullshit ?’ she asked, blatantly mocking him.

  She could see Tobias was getting irritated, and she took great pleasure out of it. He stared at her with an impatient look.

  ‘I am not.’, he said, after a short pause, 'But can you please just listen? You asked me to tell you what happened and I'm telling you now.’

  Satisfied, Freya went on.

  'Yeah, I don’t buy it. How many times have you repeated that story inside your head? That's a very creative way to cover the fact that you were fucking that little silver-haired slag, Tobias. What's her name again? Dee? ', she said with a mocking smile, composing the police number on her phone.

  She was getting back at him. Tobias fell silent. For a split second, his gaze hardened, his nostrils flared and his whole body tensed up, but he caught himself up immediately.

  ‘For the last time, Freya, I did not cheat on you. And Dee is my cousin. ', he said calmly. Freya rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  'Yeah, right. Not that it matters anymore. You're free to fuck anyone you want since I'm not taking you back anyway. Even your cousin.'

  Tobias remained impassive for a few seconds. Freya couldn't read what emotions were hiding behind those beautiful dark eyes. Suddenly, he became animated again.

  'Are you gonna try my cake ?’, he asked, smiling softly.

  'Are you gonna tell me more? What's the "super important" thing you had to tell me?'

  Tobias sighed softly.

  'Take a bite and I'll tell you.'

  Freya clenched her jaw. She was getting seriously irritated.

  'I don't want to.'

  Tobias cut himself another piece of cake and shoved it whole in his mouth. 

  'Damn! This is really good... ', he articulated with difficulty as he tried to chew the enormous piece, 'You're missing out, I surpassed myself this time.'

  'You sure did...', Freya replied curtly, staring him up and down, 'And you're avoiding the subject.', she added, brandishing her phone with the police phone number on the screen.

  'No! You're the one giving me shite each time I try to explain myself. I just think it's a good bargaining chip.', Tobias protested with his mouth still very full, 'I'm giving you information, and you eat a bit of my cake. You eat a bit of my cake, and I'm giving you information. See? It's that simple. That way we're both happy.'

  Freya sat in front of him, flabbergasted.

  'You reappear out of nowhere after going MIA for six months.', she started, her voice rumbling with anger, 'You forced yourself into my home, and you're surprised I'm giving you shit for it? And you want to bargain as well? I never asked you to come here! Who the fuck do you think you are, exactly?'

  'It has something to do with your grandmother. I'm sorry for your loss, by the way.', Tobias replied calmly as he finished chewing.

  Freya paused and frowned.

  'What? What do you- How do you even know she passed?!', she asked, suddenly distraught.

  Tobias remained quiet. As an only response, he pointed at the piece of cake in Freya's hand.

  Freya looked at it and hesitated. For a slit second, she contemplated throwing it in his face. Or shove it forcefully into his mouth with her whole hand and choke him with it. She sighed heavily and quickly threw it into her mouth. 

  She took the time to chew it. It was delicious indeed, absolutely perfect in every aspect. An explosion of savors filled her mouth. Everything was perfectly balanced. The bitterness of dark chocolate was skillfully sweetened and complemented by discreet notes of red fruits and agave. The texture was amazing. The crust on the outside was cooked to perfection, while the light and airy inside melted almost by itself on her tongue. She had to make a huge conscious effort not to let her face betray her.

  'It's alright, I guess.', she said when she finally finished chewing. He sighed, closed the container, and put it on the floor at the foot of the sofa. A mysterious smile appeared on his face. ‘Now, tell me.’ Freya ordered him, 'What about my grandmother?' Tobias remained silent, staring at her. He crossed his arms and legs too, as if he was waiting for something. Freya blinked rapidly. ‘Hello ?’, she asked, ‘Come on, I did what you asked! Tell me, or you're up for jail.’, she said, pointing at her phone screen.

  ‘Yes, yes, I will.’, he replied softly. ‘You're so beautiful... God, I could look at you for hours, you know that ?’.

  His voice had dropped, and had taken that specific timbre he only used when they were together in bed. This triggered something inside her. A pleasant tickling grew in her lower belly. She stared at him confusedly as she felt herself relax pleasantly. A blissful fog filled her brain. Progressively, she felt her anger toward him vanish.

  She unfolded her arms and leaned lasciviously on the coffee table, smiling at him. She could feel her heart beat strongly in her chest, her whole body felt warm. Her blood filled all her extremities and she could feel her clothes on every sensitive part of her body.

  ‘You are too.’, she replied in a languorous voice, ‘I'm so glad you came, I've missed you so much, Toby.'

  ‘I'm glad to be here too, I'm sorry I've had to force my way through, love.'

  ‘It's fine, you had to, otherwise I'd have never let you in... Don't really know why I wouldn't want you in though. I guess I was just being petty.’

  Tobias opened his arms.

  'What are you doing this far from me, come sit here.’, he said.

  He patted the couch seat next to him. Freya crossed the small space that separated them, and slid between his arms, wrapping hers around his neck.

  She couldn't take her eyes off of him, he was the love of her life and she never wanted to let go ever again. Everything about him looked perfect. His wide almond eyes, his perfecly arched eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his small and straight nose, and his thin and delicately hemmed mouth were the most beautiful things she had ever laid eyes on.

 ‘I love you so much…' she whispered, breathless.

  Her lips, made red and voluptuous by passion and desire were parted and calling for his. He moved his head back and smiled at her, revealing his sharp canines.

  ‘Oh you want it so bad, don't you...', he said, caressing her lips with the tip of his finger, looking directly into her hazel eyes.

  She nodded slowly, breathing heavily. He slid one hand around her waist under her shirt, and put her long hair behind her ear with the other. He buried his face in her pale neck, and when his mouth and tongue came in contact with her skin, she let out a long moan and let her head fall back. He slid his hand under her jaw, reached her throat, and closed his thin fingers around it.

  ‘You’d do anything for me, right ?’, he whispered directly in her ear.

  ‘Yes’, she moaned, her eyes rolling back in their sockets.

  ‘I've waited so long for this, Frey... You're going to give me what I want, right ?’. His breathing got heavier.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course I will, Toby. Oh, kiss me, I love you !’.

  She was in a trance, at his absolute and complete mercy. Everything had disappeared around her, only Tobias and her desire for him existed. There was no rational thinking anymore, just pure love and lust. All she wanted in the world was him, and she'd give anything to keep him for herself forever. He ran his mouth and tongue on every centimeter of her neck, her jaw, her cheeks and her ears. He embraced her tightly, his hands venturing everywhere on her body.

  She wanted to kiss his mouth desperately, but he kept dodging her attempts. He was teasing her and it did nothing but arouse her burning desire.

  Suddenly, he stopped. He pulled away from her and stood up.

  ‘What are you doing ?’, Freya asked, distraught, ’Come back !’, she implored with her arms outstretched towards him.

  ‘You said you were going to give me what I want, right ?’, he retorted, with an intense, almost crazy look in his eyes.

  ‘Oh yes, I will !". An equally crazy smile had appeared on her face. She grabbed his belt and started unbuckling it. But Tobias grabbed her wrists and leaned over her.

  ‘No, no. Not now, love.’

  He could tell she was frustrated, and he relished it.

  ‘What do you want then, tell me !’ she cried.

  He smiled again, uncovering his fangs.

  ‘The wand. I know you have it, where is it ?’

Chapter Text

  'The wand ?’ Freya asked, deeply confused and on the verge of tears from the frustration Tobias was imposing on her.

  She didn't even question how he knew about it, nor why he wanted it. She didn't even think about the wand. She couldn't even remember what a wand was. He was the only thing her altered mind cared about, and she would do anything to get what she wanted, too.

  She stood up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  ‘Kiss me and I'll tell you.’

  Tobias smiled and embraced her.

  ‘Ah. Using my own weapon against me, I see.’, he replied, amused, 'Just tell me where it is, love. I'll give you anything you want after that.'

  Freya's eyebrows contracted in a furious frown and she shook her head frantically.

  'No, no, no!' she protested loudly, 'I ate your stupid cake! I did what you wanted, now it's my turn! Oh! Toby! Baby! Kiss me!', she implored, grasping his hair to pull him toward her. He threw his head back, looked at the ceiling, and exhaled sharply. Then he looked at her again. All he could see was a desperately yearning Freya, her eyes and pupils widened by love and passion, scanning each centimeter of his face with an intense avidity. She was running her hands everywhere on his cheeks, head, neck, shoulders, back, and chest, clasping his shirt as if she wanted to tear it off of him.

  He caved in and kissed her. Freya let out a long whisper of pleasure. Quickly the soft kissing turned into an intense devouring as everything disappeared around her. Everything except for Tobias. She felt herself melt between his arms... Until he abruptly pulled back.

   ‘Okay, my turn now.’, he said hoarsely, an intense glint in his eyes, 'The wand, Freya.' She laughed and pulled on his hand, leading him out of the living room. But instead of turning left to go in the kitchen, she turned right and pulled him up the stairs. While going up, she turned her back to him and took off her shirt, exposing her breasts. ‘What are you doing ?’, he chuckled. As a response, she giggled, took off her shorts, and shook them off her ankles. ‘We’ll have plenty of time for that later, love…’, he said softly, containing his impatience.

  With only her knickers on, she ran and disappeared into her bedroom, cackling happily, leaving Tobias alone in the corridor.

  ‘The wand is in there, come here, babe !', Freya called from her bedroom, throwing her blue knickers through the door at Tobias's feet.

  When he reached the door frame, he turned his head to find Freya lying on the bed, fully naked, squirming, and burning with desire.

  ‘Fuck.’, he grunted.

  Her vulva was bright pink, open, and oozing with love juice. On her moonlit body, he could see the translucent fluid had dripped down her buttcheeks and her inner thighs. Her erected nipples, usually of a pale pink color, had taken a dark pink shade, the same as her lips.        

  ‘Come here, babe…' she whispered.

  Tobias seemed confused and agitated all of a sudden. He looked around him as if he was searching for something. He rubbed his face with his hand, and passed it in his hair, huffing nervously. He took another look at her, and Freya knew she had won.

  He marched towards the bed, taking his shirt off and uncovering his chiseled torso. He unbuttoned his jeans and crawled between Freya's legs, running his mouth and tongue from her pubis up to her neck. Freya moaned loudly, grasping his hair, sinking her nails in his strong shoulders, arms, and back. She reached for his pants and slid her hands into his boxers. She pushed them back on his bum, pulled his rock-hard member out, and started stroking it. Tobias moaned, kissing and biting her neck. Freya wanted nothing but him inside of her, she could feel her vagina calling for him. She needed him inside of her. She wanted to have him locked between her legs, to engulf him, to possess him. She crossed her legs around his hips to pull them towards her, rubbing the tip of his cock on her whole vulva until it reached her vagina's entry, but he resisted. He stopped abruptly and looked her in the eyes.

  'Show me the wand first, Frey. Where is it ?', he asked, breathless.

  Freya looked at him with wide eyes.

  'I don't know what you're talking about, love. Fuck me.', she replied.

  Suddenly, Tobias stood up on his knees and pulled up his pants. He violently grabbed her wrists, pressing them on her chest, and pinning her to the bed. Freya shrieked in pain.

  'You're playing with me, aren't you ?', he rumbled, showing his teeth, 'Don't fucking play dumb with me, I know it's here.' Freya was completely hypnotized, obsessed by him and her desire, 'Freya!', he shouted, pressing her wrists even harder against her chest. Freya let out a loud pained cry.

  'Ow! You're hurting me, baby!', she whined pathetically.

  'Where. Is it?' he insisted, his voice loudening with frustration. 

  'I don't know! I don't know, Toby! Oh! Please... Love me... I love you so much!'

  With a furious gesture, he let go of her wrists. He stood back up and hesitated for a second. Breathing heavily, he scanned the room, looking at every corner the dim light allowed him to see. But Freya took advantage of the situation. She sat up quickly and before he could react, she pulled his open pants down. She glided her tongue from the base of his penis to the tip, and started playing with it with her mouth and tongue. Tobias let out a sharp sigh. Freya could feel his shaft throbbing and the salty taste of his precum on her tongue. Then, slowly, she closed her mouth around it and started moving her head up and down, avidly sucking, licking, and kissing it.

  'Oh, fuck', he muttered between shaky breaths, throwing his head back. 'Stop.', he sighed, grasping her hair and pulling on it in a weak and unconvincing attempt to pull her back. But Freya kept going. Accompanying her mouth with her hand, she accelerated her pace, progressively pushing him deeper inside her throat. Encouraged by Tobias' intensifying grunts, she swallowed it until her nose hit his pubis. Suddenly, he wrapped his hand around her throat and pushed her head back, making her let go of him in a loud smack. 'Shit, Freya, stop it!', he rumbled, breathless, tightening his grip around her throat, 'If you're going to waste my time, then there's no point in me staying here.' Freya's expression switched instantly. From adoring and avid, her face turned distressed, desperate.

  'What do you mean, love?', she whimpered, 'You're not leaving, right?'

  Tobias's gaze intensified. A light smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.

  'Oh, I'm sure you'd hate that, wouldn't you?'

  'I'd die!', she cried, withering with angst, grabbing his arm, 'Please don't leave, Toby! Don't do this to me! I love you so much, don't leave me!'

  Slowly, still holding her by the throat, he leaned forward and got in her face.

  'Alright. If you want me to stay, then you know what you have to do.', he articulated slowly, 'Tell me where the wand is. Now.' A few seconds passed during which Freya thought as deeply as her state allowed her to. He couldn't leave. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't bear it. She would die if he did. She had to make him stay. She frantically searched through her memory to try and remember what a wand might be. Tobias was getting impatient. 'If you don't answer in five seconds, I'm out of here, and you'll never see me again.' he threatened. Two tears rolled down Freya's cheeks. She let out a desperate whimper as she felt her death approaching, unable to find a solution, unable to give him what he wanted... Then something came back into her mind. The vague image of a wooden box. She gasped and raised her desperate eyes to him.

  'Promise you'll stay if I tell you?', she whined. She was clasping his forearm with both hands, terrified that he would escape. Tobias closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

  'Yes. I promise. Now tell me.'

  'A-A box.' Freya stuttered blankly, 'A plain wooden box. D-downstairs.'

  Tobias' face lightened immediately. 

  'There you go. That's my good girl.', he purred with a soft smile, letting go of her throat to caress her cheek. Freya let out a manic giggle. Her relief was immeasurable. He would stay and she would live. But her rejoicing was cut short. He let go of her, pulled his pants up again, and abruptly got off the bed.

  'No!' Freya yelled, jumping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, 'You promised! You promised you'd stay!' Tobias paused to look at her, silent and impassible. Then he looked away and stared at the open bedroom door. Freya tightened her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his sternum. 'Don't go... Please don't go... I did what you asked me...' she whispered with a trembling breath. Despite his calm demeanor, Freya could hear his heart pounding fast and hard in his chest. His body was burning hot. His breathing was deep and shaky. She gently kissed his bare chest, and thousands of little bumps rose at the surface of his hairless and soft skin. He sniffed and stared back at her.

  'I guess you deserve your reward.', he finally said after a long silence. An insane grin appeared on Freya's face. 

  'Oh! Toby! I love you so much!', she exclaimed, enraptured. Without replying, Tobias closed his hands around Freya's neck and pushed her back down, leading her mouth near his crotch.

  'Open your mouth.', he ordered, pressing on her cheeks with his thumb and fingers. He pulled on the front of his pants and underwear, and they both ended on the floor so quickly that Freya didn't even have the time to comprehend how it happened. In fact, she couldn't even comprehend anything anymore. Tobias' cock was in her mouth again, emptying her brain like the most blissful lobotomy. Firmly grasping Freya's hair, he put one foot up on the bed and pushed himself completely inside her throat. He kept her like this for a few long seconds, forcefully pressing her face against his lower belly until she started gagging and choking, clawing at his thighs, then pulled out abruptly. Her eyes flooded with tears, Freya breathed in deeply, retched, and coughed up a long trickle of saliva that dripped down her chin and chest. 'Want more?', he asked, rubbing her lips with his thumb. Breathless, Freya nodded vigorously.

  'Yes...', she moaned, opening her mouth wide. Tobias' nostrils flared.

  'Of course you do.', he grunted.

  He violently sunk himself back inside her mouth and started thrusting in and out her throat with ample movements. Freya relaxed completely. Her eyes rolled back in her skull as she let him use her as he pleased. He pulled out several times to let her breathe and look at her teary face, abundant saliva dripping down her mouth, and went back in, each time pushing her limits a little more. She didn't care what he did to her. She didn't care that he was hurting and torturing her, as long as his attention was on her. Finally, he let go of her hair and pushed her back on the bed. Freya fell on her back, coughing, retching, out of breath, but in pure ecstasy. Tobias paused, standing at the foot of the bed.

  Through her foggy eyes, Freya could see him, his honed and svelte stature dominating her, his breathing making the gracious muscles of his chest and torso roll graciously under his skin, the strands of straight black hair falling on his forehead, and the two sets of silver rings shining on each of his lobes. She adored his body. There was something slightly androgynous about him, a certain grace, a fineness that beautifully complemented his manliness. Was it the delicacy of his features? Was it the way he held himself and moved, perhaps? It was a blending of all of that, certainly. She adored him entirely.

  He too was observing her, his eyebrows frowned. From her firm and fleshy thighs, his gaze lingered over her delicately plump hips and belly, her marked waist, her full and round breasts spreading on each side of her torso, and her long chestnut hair spreading around her head. She caught him detailing the tattoo she had on her sternum, just under her breasts. It was a fine and detailed Gothic architectural pattern, perfectly hugging the curves of her under-breast, spreading across her ribs and almost down to her belly button in a downward triangular shape. Of all the tattoos she had, he always said it was his favorite. He'd marvel at it every time he saw it, saying it adorned her body perfectly, like a precious ornament. 

  'It reminds me of a place I spent a lot of time at when I was a kiddie. I loved it. Felt like home.', he had said once as he observed it for the hundredth time, passing his fingers on her skin. 

  Freya folded her legs on her torso and largely spread them, inviting him between them.

  'I want you so bad, Toby...', she moaned in a raspy voice, squirming with desire, 'Come here... Come here and fuck me...' But Tobias didn't move. He kept staring at her, his fists clenched. 'What's wrong, my love? Are you angry about something?'

  'I can do whatever I want to you and you'll be asking for more, won't you?', he let out in a somber voice.

  'Of course, baby... Why wouldn't I? All I want is you...' She grabbed one of her legs under the knee and slid her hand down her vulva, slowly rubbing herself. ‘Toby, honey, I want you so bad! I know you want me too...', her eyes wandered down his stomach, and stopped on his crotch, 'Look at you, you're so hard for me...' She wedged her fingers in her bright pink folds and spread the entry of her vagina, 'I'm all yours...'

  Abruptly, Tobias leaned forward, forcefully grabbed her hips, and pulled her toward him, bringing her to the very edge of the bed. He grabbed her arms and passed them both behind her knees. He pressed his hands on them, pushing all his weight on her folded legs against her chest, immobilizing her completely. She could hardly breathe, and her knees sunk painfully in the flesh of her breasts. Leaning above her, his arms outstretched, he put one foot up on the bed again. With slow movements of his hips, he rubbed the tip of his penis on her dripping-wet vulva. All she could see between her calves was Tobias' face, his black eyes blazing with avidity, alternatively jumping from her eyes to her exposed intimacy. Freya shivered and let out a few strangled whimpers. The sensation of him rubbing against her clitoris and lingering on the edge of her vagina almost sent her into a trance. All she wanted was for him to finally sink his amazing cock inside her body. Then, and only then, would he be truly hers. Tobias went on like this for a moment, watching with delectation the growing signs of discomfort and frustration on her face.

  'Am I hurting you?', he asked suddenly.

  'Ah... Yes...', Freya panted. Everything was hurting. Her legs, her arms, her chest, everything was becoming sore and painful. Her whimpers were turning into cries now. He cocked his head back and looked at her defiantly.

  'How bad do you want it?' He tightened his grip around her forearms. Freya shrieked.

  'Ah!... So... so bad!', she panted, her eyes tearing.

  'What would you do for me to fuck you, eh?' The more he spoke, the hoarser his voice became. Freya could feel him against her, he was harder than ever.

  'Any... Anything, Toby... Ah... Please!' Tobias' irises seemed to enlarge suddenly, turning his eyes almost completely black.

  'Ah! Yes, that's it...', he purred. Freya felt the tip of his member slide inside her.

  'Oh! Yes, Toby!', she moaned, her whole body shaking with pleasure and pain, but once again her ecstasy was cut short as she felt him pull out of her. 'No! No! Come back! Put it in!' But he didn't budge. He was staring at her, a hungry smirk exposing his sharp canines, 'Please!', she cried, desperate. 

  'Say that again.', he ordered, his breathing deepening. Freya let out a sob.

  'Please!'

  Once more, he slid inside of her and pulled out immediately, leaving Freya shaking with a painful pleasure.

  'Again.', he growled, pressing even harder on her arms and legs. Freya gasped for air.

  'Please, Toby!', she exclaimed, tears rolling down her cheeks. He slid in and out of her again.

  'Louder!' he roared. 

  'Please! Please, Toby! Fuck me! Oh! I'm begging you!', Freya yelled as loud as she could, her voice broken with sobs.

  Tobias let out a low satisfied snicker, and in one powerful, violent thrust, he sunk himself entirely inside of Freya. A phenomenal shockwave crossed her entire body. She threw her head back, letting out a loud cry of intense pleasure. Finally, he was hers, and hers only. Then came a second stroke. Then a third. Tobias accelerated his pace. Soon, the room resonated with moans, cries, and grunts, cadenced by the clapping of his hips pounding against her thighs. The strokes kept coming, each time spearing her body a little more with pure ecstasy. 

  Suddenly, Tobias stood up on his knees and let go of her arms. They spread to her sides, sore and numb. Freya exhaled sharply. Finally, she could breathe properly. She lifted them again in an attempt to reach for his neck between her legs resting on his shoulders, but he blocked her. He grabbed them and pinned them to the bed. 

  'What do you think you're doing?', he grunted, breathless. He leaned forward until he got very close to her face, painfully stretching the back of her legs, and started thrusting again, pushing even deeper inside of her. Freya's face contracted and she whined in pain.

  'Ah! It hurts, Toby...'

  'Does it?', he replied in a falsely concerned tone, leaning even further until Freya could feel his warm breath on her face, staring right into her eyes, 'You said you'd do anything for me to fuck you, didn't you?' Freya whimpered and nodded. 'That's right, you did.', he said, nodding as well, 'And did I just hear you complain?' She froze for a second. She started nodding yes but caught herself and shook her head no. Surprised, Tobias raised his eyebrows, 'No? Really?', he paused and frowned, 'Are you trying to lie to me?' Freya felt panic take over her.

  'N-No, no, Toby, I am n-', she stuttered. She could feel his fingers tighten around her arms. 

  'Yes, you are, Freya. What else have you been lying about since I stepped foot in this house, tell me?'

  'I didn't-...I haven't lied-', Freya started, but Tobias buried his face in her neck and spoke directly into her ear, stretching her hamstring further.

  'I promise you, Freya...', he whispered, his burning breath sending shivers all over her body, 'If I find out that you have lied to me in any way...', his fingers tightened even more around her arms, sinking into her skin and muscles, 'There will be serious consequences. Ones you will not recover from.' Freya exhaled sharply. Everything was happening at once in her head. A strange and intoxicating mix of immeasurable pleasure, pain, and fear swirling in an ocean of love and obsession for him. She let out a weird series of incoherent sounds, halfway between moans and sobs. He stood up. 'Are we clear?', he added menacingly. Shaking, Freya nodded again.

  'Yes...'

  He smiled.

  'Good girl.' He thrust again, bringing another loud moan out of Freya. Once again, her head emptied itself to let Tobias invade it entirely.

  For a long moment, he held her like this, pounding with deep and ample strokes inside of her, recoiling until only his tip was left inside, and going back in with an intoxicating rhythm, grunting and groaning. Powerless, overwhelmed by pleasure and pain, Freya roared and cried her rapture and love for him, screaming his name, begging for him never to stop.

  Finally, he slowed down. He let go of her arms and freed her legs, letting them fall to her sides. She exhaled in relief. Without pulling out, he lay on her, grunting softly in her ear, rolling his hips back and forth, his pubis rubbing against her clitoris while Freya embraced him, kissing and biting his neck. He was showing her a bit of gentleness at last, and she welcomed it with immense joy. She passed her hands on his back, sliding them down his spine until she reached his perfectly arched lower back and well-rounded butt cheeks. He was the most perfect and precious being in her eyes. She could die right at this moment for all she cared, at his hands even, and she would be happy. Nothing else mattered but him.

  'I love you so much, Toby...', she whispered between sighs and moans, fumbling in his neck with her nose to try and get a kiss from him. 'Honey, kiss me!' He did not respond. His face resolutely sunk into the mattress, he kept moving back and forth, pleasuring himself inside of her. 'Do you love me too?'

  Tobias paused for a second, then stood up on his hands. He stared at her, an irritated expression on his face.

  'Tell you what, Freya. You've probably been told many times that there are no stupid questions, right?.', Freya looked at him and frowned, confused, 'I beg to differ on that matter.', he added coldly. Freya let out a high-pitched giggle.

  'Haha! That means you do! Right? That means you lo- Ah!' Freya couldn't finish her sentence. Tobias had already pulled out of her and firmly grabbed her arm and leg.

  'That means that's a very fucking stupid question.', he grunted, unceremoniously flipping her over on her stomach. He grasped her hips and lifted them. 'Stay down.', he ordered as Freya tried to stand up on her hands. She obliged and brought her chest back down on the bed, shivering with fear and arousal.

  She arched her back, offering herself to him entirely once again. She could feel his hands clasp and knead the plump flesh of her hips and butt, sinking his fingers and nails in it. He was hurting her, but she dared not complain. She loved it because it was him. Her Tobias. She turned her head and glanced over her shoulder. She could see him, his mouth ajar and his eyes going back and forth over her back and butt, admiring her voluptuous curves. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He was rubbing himself slowly against her vulva between her thighs. The warm tingling was amazing, and she opened herself even more to him. Her body was calling him, screaming at him to penetrate it. 

  'Toby... Come inside..., she moaned. His response was as stinging as a whip.

  'Shut up.'

  Freya jumped and buried her face in the sheets. He was taking his time. He knew exactly what she wanted, and he had every intention of making her beg for it again, but she just couldn't wait.

  'Please...', she attempted, looking back at him over her shoulders. He raised his eyes and stared back at her, his face hard and contracted. In one quick gesture, he leaned forward and grabbed her hair. He pulled on it so violently that she felt her spine snap. She let out a sharp scream. In one second, she found herself on her knees, with Tobias holding her against him from behind, bending her neck over his shoulder. 

  'You don't want to listen, do you?', he growled in her ear, grabbing her throat and pulling harder on her hair while she cried and withered. Her whole body contracted and excruciating cramps passed through her legs. It was too much.

  'Ah! You're hurting me, Toby!', she yelled in a broken voice, pulling on his arms, 'It hurts!'

  'Oh, I bet it does!', he roared angrily. He let go of her throat and passed his hand behind her back. He moved his hips and one second later, he was inside of her again. A terrible burning sensation spread through her crotch, and she let out another scream. He started pounding her mercilessly, passing his free hand all over her body, clasping and pinching every inch of flesh his fingers could find, squeezing her breasts, mistreating her helpless body, grunting like an animal as she screamed and howled. 'You love it when I hurt you, don't you Freya? That's why you keep coming back to me, over and over.' he rumbled, breathless, his mouth against her jaw.

  He was right. He couldn't be anything but right. As quickly as they appeared, the burning and cramping started fading. The warmth of his chest on her back, his burning breath on her skin, his addictive scent, and the low vibration of his voice in her ear sent extraordinary thrills through her brain and body. She was in his arms, and that was all that mattered to her. Her overwhelming passion and love for him had taken over again, and soon her pained cries turned into deep and loud moans.

  'Ahh! Toby!...' 

  She raised her arm, passed it behind his head, and grabbed his hair. He did not stop her.

  'Ah! Yes... Yes, you do... That's how you like it...', he grunted in her ear. His voice and breathing, jerky from his thrusts, were becoming hoarser and deeper. He let go of her hair and placed his hand under her jaw.

  'Ooh! God!'

  'Ah!... You fucking love it, don't you...'

  Something in his tone had changed. An imperceptible switch that Freya felt through her whole body. She started thrusting her hips back and forth, responding to Tobias's movements until they reached the perfect tempo, until their bodies bounced against each other in perfect synchronicity.

  'I do! Ah! Toby, I do! It's so fucking good! Yes!'

  A clear moan escaped his mouth. He passed his other arm around her waist, holding her tight against him.

  'Aah! Freya...' She turned her head, resting her forehead against his temple. Their noses were almost touching. They could feel each other's breath on their lips. They accelerated their pace, and soon Tobias' voice joined Freya's in a loud and rhythmic chant of pleasure, accompanied by the thunder of their bodies banging against each other. 'Look at me...', he whispered hoarsely.

  She opened her eyes only to find his, half-closed but gleaming intensely under his frowned eyebrows, staring straight into hers. Time stopped for a brief moment, a few seconds during which Freya was struck with a flash of clarity. There was something in those black pupils and he wanted her to see it. It wasn't anger or hatred. Fear, maybe? No...

  Her heart tightened suddenly.

  'Oh, my sweet love...', she whispered tenderly. She had seen it.

  She couldn't resist. She did not care about the consequences. He could kill her right now, and she would be the happiest woman on earth. She loved him too much. She pulled him toward her and kissed him. He did not pull back. Instead, he gave in completely, avidly pressing his mouth against hers, devouring her lips in the most passionate and ardent embrace. They huffed and sighed, licked and sucked, moaning into each other's mouth, lapping at each other's fluids. An extraordinary blaze rose in Freya's body, everything seemed to go up in flames around them, and rapidly, she felt them coming. The delicious tingles of orgasm. They were growing in her underbelly, expanding to her whole body, quickly bringing her to the edge of pure, blissful ecstasy. 

  Her moans intensified. She couldn't speak anymore, transfixed with intense pleasure as Tobias slid his hand between her legs. He slotted his fingers between her parted labia, simultaneously pressing against her clitoris and rubbing his penis, vigorously thrusting in and out of her. It only took a few seconds.

  'Oh! Toby... I'm coming... I'm com-Aah!'

  She felt her body open in a long, explosive, toe-curling, quaking sensation, bringing long and loud cries out of her chest. Her vagina spasmed so strongly around his shaft that it was almost sucking it in, keeping it inside of her. Tobias' body contracted.

  'Ah! Fuck!', he let out between Freya's breaths. She felt his member, so hard and so deeply sunk, throbbing violently inside of her as he buried his face in her neck, muffling a series of loud and hoarse moans. And the divine waves of ecstasy kept coming and coming, seemingly endless, making their bodies shake and jerk uncontrollably, making them scream and cry, body fluids splattering everywhere under them until finally, they settled down. The spasms and throbs spaced out, the cries turned into sighs and whimpers, and the bodies relaxed. Tobias let go of Freya who let herself fall on her hands, head down, panting. He sat down on his heels. Freya whimpered lightly as she felt him slip out of her. Exhausted and shaking, she fell forward into a fetal position, her face buried in the sheets, letting Tobias' fluids come out of her and drip on them between her feet. Eyes closed, she let her brain and body fill up with endorphins. She was high. High on pleasure and love. Higher than she had ever been, profoundly relaxed and satisfied.

  A warm thing came resting on her lower back. It was Tobias's head. She could feel his warm and humid breath on her skin. She could hear him panting and gulping to wet his dry throat. She lifted her arm - it felt like it weighed a ton - and put her hand on his hair, stroking it tenderly. He abruptly stood up when she slid it further down to reach his cheek. She glanced over her shoulder to look at him, but he had already turned his back on her, sitting at the edge of the bed. All she could see was his back. It was beautiful, delicately chiseled. Just like on the rest of his body, his slightly tan skin was smooth, velvety, and speckled with beauty marks. He was hunched, his elbows resting on his thighs. She couldn't even see the back of his head. He seemed listless. 

  'Toby... Love...', she slurred in a whisper. He did not react. Freya's eyelids were getting heavy. She crawled to her pillow in one last effort, and let her head fall heavily on it. She could feel her body getting limp, enveloped in a warm and fuzzy bubble of serenity. She could hardly keep her eyes open. 'Come to bed... Come sleep...Next to me...' 

  A long silence settled until, finally, she heard a vague rustling noise and felt the weight of someone lying beside her on the mattress. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. She was gone.

  'I'm letting you go now. It's over. You're free.'

  'But I don't want you to let me go. I won't let go.'

  'You have to. It's the best. For you. For everyone.'

  'I won't. I still love you.'

  'You can't love me.'

  'But I do.'

  'No, you don't.'

  'Yes, I do. And I always will. Always.'

Chapter Text

  Freya woke up to a ruffling noise outside her bedroom. It took her several seconds to come back to her senses. Her brain was unusually foggy.

  She turned around and looked out the window; the sky had the soft blue color of dawn. She sat up, listening. The ruffling noise was coming from downstairs. Her heart was racing. She pushed the sheets back, ready to investigate.

  'What the fuck ?', she whispered to herself.

  She realized she was naked. Suddenly, all the past night’s events played back in her head, like a fast-tracked movie. She remembered everything, Tobias forcing himself into her home, their dispute, then everything changed, like she was not her normal self, they kissed and… 

  She remembered it like a vivid dream, between fantasy and reality. She was there all along but something else had taken over her, like an external force… She remembered the intense pleasure she had felt, the things she said, and... his violence. She looked at the sheets and saw a dried puddle of body fluids. She shook her head in disgust.

  Inspecting her body, she could see scratches and pale bruises on her arms, hips and inner thighs. Everything was sore and painful.

  'Oh my god...', she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. 

  Then something else came back. The wand! He was looking for the wand!

  Her heart dropped. She immediately understood what was going on. She grabbed the first clothes that came at hand, passed them on frantically, and stormed out of her room, praying he hadn't already found it.

  ‘Tobias !!!’, she roared furiously.

  She sprinted down the stairs and entered the living room. There she found Tobias, looking at her defiantly, the wand’s box in his hand.

  'Good morning, sleeping beauty.’, he said calmly, a nasty smirk on his face. Freya was paralyzed in fury, no sound came out of her mouth. She remained quiet, her eyes bulging out of their orbits and her fists clenched. ‘What a night we’ve had, eh?’. His smirk turned into a predatory grin.

  ‘You… drugged me.’, she muttered, shaking.

  ‘What? No! I would never do that! Who do you think I am? A rapist? Let me remind you you were pretty consenting…’. He paused, looking her up and down, savoring the situation. ‘You loved it. Remember ?’

  Freya was dumbstruck. It was true, she remembered everything.

  ‘What did you do to me ?!’, she shouted, enraged.

  ‘I’ve worked my magic, I’d say.’ he replied nonchalantly, shrugging, ‘Like I always do.’, he added coldly.

  Freya was shattered. He had abused her, betrayed her again. And the worst of it all was that there was nothing she could have done to avoid it. He would have found ways to get to her. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she fought, he would always win. She came to the painful conclusion that everything he had ever told her, every single loving gesture, every sweet nothing, every attention he had given her during their short relationship was complete and utter illusion. He had used her since the beginning. But for what? Her anger progressively turned into a dreadful combination of intense despair, disappointment, and helplessness that spread in her body like a corrosive poison. Again, she felt tears fill her eyes, but used the last bit of strength she had to repress them. She didn't want to give him the ultimate pleasure of seeing her cry. Frozen, she remained silent, staring at him.

  'Now, talking about magic. I guess you don't know how to open that box, do you?’ Tobias asked, pointing at the box, seemingly impervious to her visible dismay.

  Freya gulped with difficulty.

  'No.', she lied in a whisper, trying her hardest to contain herself. He hadn't found the wand. She could hardly believe it, but despite her altered state the night before, she had not betrayed herself. She had to make him leave, and fast. 'You can take it.', she let out, 'Take it with you and get out of my house.', she rumbled.

  He looked at her suspiciously. It seemed like his sly eyes were scanning every move, every micro-expression on her face that could betray her deception. 

  'Have you tried to open it?', he asked calmly after a pause. 

  'No.', she lied again, feeling like she was gambling with her life, 'It's just a plain block of wood to me. '

  'Alright. How do you know there's a wand inside, then?' 

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Shit.

  Freya suddenly felt like she had been thrown into a very strategic chess game. Each move, if not carefully calculated, could cost her something.

  'Er... My grandmother mentioned it... I-In her will.', she stuttered hoarsely. 

  'Oh, she mentioned it?', he asked in a falsely surprised tone, a playful smirk on his face, 'What else did she say about it?'

  'Nothing. Just that she had a wand, and that it was inside a box like this one.' Tobias nodded.

  'Weren't you curious about it? About why your grandmother would have a wand?'

  Freya exhaled sharply. This was excruciating. He was dragging this conversation on purpose to wear her down, she knew it.

  'Yes, I was.', she replied with a frustrated sigh, 'That's why I looked for the fucking box and... brought it here. To look at it.', she added. His inquisitive gaze, his calmness, and the unbearable ascendency he seemed to have over her made her extremely uncomfortable. The more she spoke, the more she felt like she was digging herself in deeper. 

  'Oh, so it's a box again. You just said it was a plain block of wood.' Tobias said innocently. Freya crossed her arms and pinched her lips.

  'Stop it, Tobias.', she whispered, 'What is this, a fucking interrogation?'

  'Do you know what a wand is, Freya?', he asked, still very calmly, completely ignoring her exasperation. 

  'I don't really care.', she replied insolently, eager to put a quick term to this grueling exchange.

  Tobias snickered.

  'That's funny.', he let out.

  'What's funny?', she asked, frustrated and restless. Tobias took one step closer to her. She remained still. She couldn't back down. All she could think of was her wand, hidden behind the stack of plates in the kitchen cupboard, praying that it was still there.

  'You're not asking anything about it. You don't seem the least curious about why your grandmother would leave it to you. You're not even asking why I want it. A bit odd, isn't it? I've never heard you say that. That you don't really care... That's not how I know you, always so inquiring about everything...' Freya swayed a little. A terrible wave of panic took over her. She suddenly realized that he was right. She didn't even question why he wanted that wand. She was so focused on protecting it and getting rid of him that his reasons didn't even matter to her. But she now understood how that made her look suspicious. She lowered her eyes and clenched her jaw.

  'I am not the person you knew anymore. I've learned my lesson about being too inquiring, Tobias. Especially when it comes to you and all your bullshit.'

  Tobias recoiled slightly.

  'That's something your grandmother passed down to you. Something valuable to her. And yet, you're so quick to give it up...', he added in a guilt-inducing tone, crossing his arms on his chest, 'It's almost as if you knew-...' Freya couldn't take it anymore. It had to stop. She raised her eyes back toward him.

  'Don't you think you've tortured me enough already, Tobias?', she interjected boldly. She was on the edge. She knew she had to protect her wand at all costs, but her strength and clarity were running low. She knew how cunning and perceptive he was. She couldn't win this sparring match. She had to get out of this situation fast before he could take further advantage of her. Before she slipped up. 'Go ahead. Take it. Take that bloody block of wood you call a box. Have fun with your toy wand all you want. I don't give a shit. Just take it, and get the fuck out of here.'

  Tobias scoffed.

  'Torture you? That's quite a big word, isn't it?' He took a tiny velvet pouch out of his jacket's pocket and approached her even more. 'You didn't seem to think I was torturing you last night.' he added, his nasty smirk turning into an insufferably smug grin. He opened the pouch and shoved the box inside. The pouch was clearly smaller than the box, and yet, it disappeared completely inside. Freya was dumbfounded. He put the pouch back in his jacket and looked back at Freya. He was very close now. Too close. 'I've got to say... It was amazing. Probably the best shag we've ever had, honestly. Got a little carried away myself...' he added with a chuckle.

  Freya felt her anger boil up again. She was so utterly appalled by his audacity that she almost forgot about the wand. 

  ‘Yeah... because you got to be your authentic sick and narcissistic little fucking self for once. You didn't have to fake being nice and loving like you did before. You really showed who you truly are. A twisted, abusive fuck.’, she spat through her clenched teeth.

  ‘Oof! Touché!’, he exclaimed, laughing, ‘But you begged for it, didn't you?’

  That was the last straw for Freya. In a flash, her hand flew and landed on his face in a proper and ringing slap, making him almost lose his balance.

  Tobias turned around to look at her. His gaze had changed again. It was cold, terribly dark, bestial. In fact, his whole face had changed into a deformed and hideous mask of pure rage. Her blow had been so strong she could still feel her hand burn from the impact. She could see he was resisting a violent urge to lash out at her. She felt her hair stand on the back of her neck, but she stood her ground and maintained eye contact. She wouldn't back down in front of him ever again. After a few terrible seconds, Tobias stood back, staring at her with a profoundly scornful expression. He hawked loudly and spat at her feet.

  ‘You pathetic little bitch.', he spewed with an almost unrecognizable voice.

  ‘Get out.’ she ordered.

  Tobias slowly skirted around her and walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.

  As soon as she heard the creaking of the front gate, Freya exhaled profoundly, as if she had been breath-holding for the past ten minutes, and collapsed on the floor. But before she even had the time to realize what had just happened, a deep rumble grew around her.

  The floor, the furniture, pots, pans, everything started trembling, and the two living room windows opened violently with a deafening Bang ! Terrified, Freya covered herself with her arms and shrieked. 

  All sorts of objects started floating across the room. Books, plants, plates, and knick-knacks flew out the open windows as if they were launched by invisible catapults. Amid the chaotic roar of multiple objects crashing on the concrete at the same time, Tobias's panicked voice could be heard, shouting 'Ah! Ow! Shit! What the fuck?! Stop! Freya! Ah!'.

  Freya crawled to the sofa under the closest window, protecting her head with her arms, and peeked outside. Surrounded by dozens of broken objects, Tobias was being repeatedly beaten to the ground by a flower pot and was struggling to get up. Finally, he managed to escape and swooped on the massive motorbike he had parked on the opposite pavement. He jumped on it, turned the key, and rushed off like a shot in a loud motor throb, receiving one last pan on his head in a comical bonk !

  The motor sound faded away in the distance and silence came back. Slowly, she let herself flop on the sofa and laid on her back, trying to process what she had just seen. Above her eyes, she could see various pieces of objects calmly floating back inside the house through the open window. She observed them, fascinated. Shattered dishes reconstructed themselves, metal pots recovered their handles and repaired their dents, plants came back in their pots, books retrieved their lost pages and fixed their binding, and all of them returned to their original place, intact and in order. She pinched herself several times, gave herself a few slaps on the cheeks, and touched everything in her reach to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Everything was real.

  She cracked a smile that soon turned into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. She played the scene repeatedly in her head, and the more she did, the funnier it got.

  When she calmed down a little, she sat up and looked around her. Her house was definitely alive, animated by some kind of magic. And it had tried to avenge her on Tobias, she was convinced of it.

  She suddenly remembered the wand, and ran to the kitchen to check the cupboard she had hidden it into. She slid her hand between the plate piles, reached the bottom and, to her great relief, found it. A million questions were racing through her mind. She was in shock, hurt, humiliated, angry, confused, amazed, all at the same time. But holding the wand in her hands and standing in the house that had acted by itself to defend her gave her a deep feeling of comfort. Though she still had trouble believing and accepting what she had gone through, she knew all of it was real. She held the wand against her, feeling its warm vibration against her heart, and vowed to never, ever let it fall into anyone else's hands, whatever the cost.

Chapter Text

  Freya stayed in the shower for 30 minutes, sitting in the bathtub and letting the warm water run onto her. She needed to wash Tobias off of her. Even in the shampoo and bodywash-scented steamy atmosphere, his smell was still there, like attached to her. Even after she had scrubbed herself several times, she could still feel his hands on her body and the stigmas of his presence inside her. Her body was more painful than ever. She felt violated, used and so gullible.

How did I not see it before ? How did I not see what he was ? How could I have been so blind ?

  She remembered the night before, how everything suddenly vanished around her and he was her sole obsession, how intense the need was to have him for her, and how she felt like dying every time he pulled away from her, and realized... Yes, she realized it was familiar to what she had been feeling during their fling. An obsession for him. She had been in love before, she knew what it was like, but with him... Things were different. She was different. She was inhabited, consumed by him. She had become unrecognizable, even to herself.            

  She remembered the apocalyptic pain and anguish that had torn her apart when he suddenly disappeared six months ago, leaving no trace. It felt like dying. Like going through an intense withdrawal episode. If it was not for her Nana, she would have left too, looking for him in all corners of the world. Then, almost as fast as it appeared, the obsession wore off. Almost as if she had suddenly regained consciousness. Was magic involved in this ?

 The situation felt hopeless. Even with actual proof of violence and rape, filing a report to the police was useless. She couldn't prove that she had been drugged. She couldn't prove that she had been coerced. How could she explain it ? 

  There were two positive things she could see in this situation, though. First of all, she was relieved to know her copper IUD was protecting her from pregnancy risk. She had booked an appointment to have it removed in a few weeks, but never in her life had she been so grateful for it to be there. Second of all, she had managed to protect the wand from Tobias. 

  But why on earth would he need it? Did he actually know how to use it ?

  She clearly heard him mention magic... She shivered at the idea of him finding out how to open the box and finding it empty. 

***

  After a meager meal, she dressed herself and got ready to meet the two strange women she had encountered the day before. All of this was terribly confusing. The thought of them knowing her name, her grandmother, and the wand... How ?

  A terrible thought came to her mind : could these women have bene sent by Tobias to get the wand ? Was this a trap ? She felt her stomach drop. Perhaps she shouldn't go. Besides, the thought of going back to that street, in front of the very restaurant Tobias was working at was terrifying.

  Or perhaps she should go. Perhaps these women have nothing to do with him, and they could probably give her precious information about that mysterious wand. And him.

  She paced around the house, at times tidying her already clean studio, at times sitting down on the couch to watch TV and immediately getting up to check on the very healthy plants, then sitting back down to scroll on her phone; anything she could to distract her restless and anxious mind. Several times she considered calling Nina, her best friend, but each time her thumb was about to hit the "call" button, something blocked her. She wouldn't know how to explain everything, she didn't want to go through it all over again and... How could she even believe her anyway?

  When the time on her phone indicated 1:00 PM, she started to panic. One hour left. She still hadn't decided whether she would go or not. It felt like a horrible countdown had started. She paced back and forth in the living room, huffing and puffing, shaking her arms and hands in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves.

  A sudden noise froze her into place. It came from the front door.    

  She heard the mail slot open and close rapidly, and the soft ruffle of a letter sliding on the floor. She remained sill for a few seconds, on alert, but heard nothing else.

  She slowly walked towards the hallway, peeked behind the door frame, and looked on the ground. There she found a single envelope. She picked it up. No stamp, no sender name or address. The envelope was made with an ivory, thick paper. Handwritten in purple ink she could read :

  "Freya Toscani,

  4, Birdbush Road, 

  Milton, Cambridgeshire»

  Feverish, she turned it over and found a red wax seal with an "M" stamped on it. She unsealed it and took out the tiny note folded inside. In the same handwriting and purple ink as the envelope, she read :

  "Dear Miss Toscani,

  We will be waiting for you at 2 o'clock at the Ole Cooking Pot. Please remember to take the wand with you.

  Best regards,

  Nephelia Igwe and Elfia Campbell. »

  Freya quickly read the note several times, and looked frantically around her. How did they know where she lived ?

  She ran to the window to see if anyone was outside, but the tiny street was empty and quiet. She looked back at the note, and noticed on the top right corner the same symbol she saw on the seal. Underneath the "M" was written "Ministry of Magic".

  Is this a joke ?  The Ministry of Magic ?

  Was it something everybody knew and she somehow was the only one to be completely oblivious to it ?    

  Either she was the target of the most elaborate prank ever pulled on anyone, or things were taking a very serious turn. If all of this was real, her life was about to change completely, and this realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She sat on the floor, staring blankly at the note.    

  Terrified and lost, she considered the wildest plans to get away from that situation. She could leave immediately, pack a few things, take her car and drive to her mum's house, on the other side of the country - they'd probably forget about her eventually... But they knew where to find her the day before, and now they have today...

   They'll know. If I don't go, they'll find me anyway.

  She exhaled deeply, rubbing her face. She looked at the time : 1:17 PM.             

  Okay.

  She couldn't stay here any longer. Overcoming her fears once again, she put her shoes on, grabbed her bag and carefully placed the wand at its bottom. She covered it with a few random items, just to make sure, and headed outside. She jumped on her bike and rode to the city center, a pit on her stomach.

Chapter Text

  Freya was standing at the turn of the main road, next to the fence she had locked her bike to, observing the passers-by's comings and goings. She could see Mickey's sign slowly rock in the gentle summer breeze. No trace of Tobias.

  She looked at her phone : 1:53 PM.

  An unpleasant wave of nervousness spread from her throat to her bladder. She reached for her bag and shoved her arm inside to check if the wand was still there. She sighed briefly, relieved to feel it on her fingers. She kept waiting, alert.

  She looked at her phone again: 1:58 PM. Still no trace of the two women.

  Alright... Time to go. 

  Looking around nervously, she entered the street and marched towards the Ole Cooking Pot. When she arrived in front of the entrance door, she tried to look through the frosted glass to see if there were any signs of life inside. For as long as she could remember, she had never seen that restaurant open before.

  She cautiously turned around to look behind her. Mickey's door was wide open. She could see the full dining room and the small hatch at the very bottom. No Tobias. She turned back around and pushed on the door. It opened with difficulty, in a sharp creaking noise.

  The sweet smell of humid wood barrels mixed with tobacco hit her as soon as she entered. She looked around and was very surprised to find a spacious dining room, dimly lit with candles and gas lamps, giving it a warm and cozy atmosphere. The long and massive counter, on the left of the room, was decorated with vivid green and turquoise mosaics and covered with a copper countertop. In the middle of it was sitting the biggest tap she had ever seen, with dozens of tap handles stacked on each other like the pipes of an organ. Above it were dangling a plethora of copper pots and pans of various shapes and sizes. A large chandelier was hanging from the high ceiling, giving off a soft, warm, but unusual orange light. Patrons were sitting around round wooden tables, chatting and laughing, while a band was playing in the back room. Cups were filled with liquids of various colors, and servers were running here and there to serve delicious-looking dishes. When the door closed, a few patrons turned around to look at her with curiosity.

  Uncomfortable, she scanned the room in search of the two women, but they were nowhere to be found. She advanced awkwardly towards the back room, clutching her bag's strap. As she passed by them, patrons stopped their conversations and whispered between them. It was excruciating. She reached the furthest corner of the restaurant, still to no avail.

  Discouraged - and, she had to admit, slightly disappointed -, she sighed, ready to leave, but just when she turned around...

  'Hello, Miss Toscani.', Freya jumped and let out a loud gasp. Nephelia Igwe was standing in front of her, a kindly smile on her face, 'I'm sorry I startled you.', she chuckled.

  'It's fine.', Freya said, holding her chest and forcing a smile.

  'I'm glad you made it. Did you bring the wand with you ?'.

  'Yes.', she answered in a whisper.

  'Good. Let's take a seat, shall we ?'.

  Igwe turned on her heels and walked towards a nearby table in front of the massive counter. Freya followed her. Elfia Campbell was there, wearing an even more bizarre outfit than the day before. She didn't stand up and only greeted her with a nod.

  They sat down in silence. Freya was feeling completely out of place.

  'Would you like something to drink ?', Igwe asked, leaning towards her comfortingly, 'If you like fruits, may I suggest you take a Frizzies ? It's delicious.', she added enthusiastically, 'I'm sure you've never had anything like it before, you'll love it ! Or maybe a Butterbeer ?'

  ‘Y-Yes, I think the Frizzies sounds good for now, thank you.’ Freya replied with difficulty.

  Her throat was horribly dry. Igwe stood up and walked to the counter to place the order, leaving Freya alone with Elfia Campbell who remained resolutely quiet.

  'So !', Igwe exclaimed, sitting back at the table, 'Let's get cut straight to chase, Miss Toscani.'

  Freya gulped.

  'First of all, I'd like to make clear once again that we are no threat to you. I know you've been through a lot recently, but please be sure we are only here to help you. Something very unusual happened two days ago at your home, and we believe some light needs to be shed on it.'

  The drinks arrived on the table. Freya couldn't stop staring at Nephelia Igwe's hauntingly yellow eyes. Her long braids, sprinkled with golden beads and rings, gave her an ethereal look. 

  'Second of all.', Igwe continued, 'Allow me to introduce us a bit more. Miss Campbell and I are agents of the British Ministry of Magic. We are here because magical activity has been detected in your - formerly Hestia Blake's - home, where there shouldn't have been. It seems you have discovered a wand that belonged to your grandmother, is that correct ?'

  'Er... Yes. Well, I assume it was. I found it in her belongings, but I had never seen it before, and- I'm sorry, you've been talking about magic, I-... Is there really such a thing ?'

  'There is of course! Muggles simply aren't aware of it.'

  'Muggles? I'm sorry wha-'

  'People who are not witches or wizards.', Campbell interrupted curtly, 'People like you.'    

  She held Freya's gaze defiantly.

  'Well...', replied Igwe, softly putting a hand on her colleague's arm, 'People like you used to be, obviously.' She looked intensely at Freya. Seeing her puzzled expression, she continued in a softer voice. 'Your grandmother was a witch, do you understand? And a powerful one, at that. Her name is still known for the great work she has done for the Ministry's Department of Mysteries.', she said with an admiring smile. Freya was dumbfounded. She had absolutely no idea what all of this meant. She took a sip of her drink in an attempt to hide her confusion. A firework of fresh red fruits and tiny iced bubbles exploded in her mouth. 'You see, muggles aren't supposed to know the Wizarding World exists, except for parents and close family of witches and wizards. Sometimes, muggle parents unknowingly give birth to magical children, like this was the case for your grandmother's parents, for example. She was the first witch of her lineage for eight generations! None of her children showed magical abilities, and neither did you, her only grandchild. That is, until now... This is the first time we've ever encountered a case like yours, Miss Toscani.'

  'B-But...' Freya stuttered, feeling dizzy from the growing storm of questions assailing her mind, 'How do you know all this? How- What does all of this mean? It's just... I've found the wand two days ago, and since then, all sorts of strange things started happening...'

  'Yes, that is precisely what we are referring to. A wand is a strictly personal item for a witch or wizard, and it only reacts when it is in the hands of a person with magical abilities. To a muggle, a wand is just a useless wooden stick, but when you've found your grandmother's, it seems like it reacted to you.', Igwe replied, taking out her own wand from the inside of her jacket. She placed it on the table for Freya to see. She continued. 'Usually, magical abilities start to show very early in age, in the first three years of life, I would say. But that wasn't the case for you. You were never in our registries and yet, you have been able to activate its power.'

  Freya remained speechless as the two women stared intensely at her. She felt like a little girl who had just been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

  'But how is it possible, then ?', Freya asked sheepishly, after a pause.

  'That's what we're here to figure out.', Campbell replied abruptly, 'Never, in the history of magic, has a muggle ever turned into a witch or wizard before. There has to be an explanation for this, and an investigation has been launched. In the meantime, we were sent to babysit you until answers are found.'

  'Elfia, please.', Igwe intervened with a disapproving tone. Freya was extremely uncomfortable. 'We were sent to chaperone you through this whole ordeal, to be more precise.', Igwe corrected, smiling comfortingly, 'We'll keep you safe, and make sure you learn everything you need to know.'

  Freya frowned, confused.

  'What do you mean by that? What's going to happen?', she asked.

  'Well, magic isn't something you simply make. It is a complex art that requires a specific set of skills and a good amount of knowledge, neither of which you have right now.', Campbell replied arrogantly.

  Nephelia Igwe sighed and closed her eyes. Freya could tell she was getting frustrated with her colleague's hostile attitude.

  'Do not worry about that right now, you'll be informed when the time comes.', she said reassuringly. Her eyes moved to Freya's bag, 'Now, why don't you take out that wand so we can test it a little ?', she asked.

  Intrigued, Freya opened her bag, ruffled through the junk she had stuffed inside, and finally pulled the wand out. Wary, she kept it in her hand. Nephelia Igwe took out the same notepad she had the day before along with an oval-shaped transparent crystal, and read:

  'Cherry wood, dragon heartstring. Eleven inches, flexible, ornamented. An excellent and powerful wand, capable of producing the most elegant spellcraft and charms. Very sensitive and loyal to its owner. Particularly well suited for combat, especially with defense spells. Fits a loyal, strong-minded, adaptable and benevolent personality the best.', Igwe leaned towards Freya., "This will only take a few seconds.", she said, offering her open hand. Freya hesitated. As if she had read her mind, Igwe added: 'Do not worry, you can keep it in your hand, I am not taking it away from you.'

  Anxious, Freya placed the wand inside Igwe's hand, with her fingers still clasped around it. Igwe held the crystal above it until a little luminous whirlwind appeared under its surface, emitting a soft green light.

  'Very good, looks like we've got the right wand ! And it chose you, by all odds !' Igwe exclaimed. Amazed, Freya gave a faint smile. For the first time in what felt like ages, she felt inexplicably happy. 'Now, let's give your newly acquired abilities a test, shall we ?', Igwe said enthusiastically, slamming her hands flat on the table. Freya's smile disappeared instantly.

  'Here? Now? But... I know nothing, and... What makes you so sure I have magical abilities? Maybe it's just... And people are watching!', she whispered frantically, waving her hand around to show the crowd around them.

  Elfia Campbell scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  'Do you seriously think we'd ask you to perform magic in front of muggles?', she asked with a despising tone.

  Freya stood there, astonished. She was just too excited to get upset.

  'Wait... Are you saying that all of these people are witches and wizards ?'

  Campbell rolled her eyes again and let out a long sigh.

  'Why, of course, they are! And trust me, you wouldn't have been able to push this establishment's door if you weren't one too.', Igwe laughed, 'Don't worry, it's just a simple test, even you can pass it, I'm sure. Here, let me show you. Look and listen closely.'

  Nephelia Igwe took her wand, pointed it at her drink, and swayed it, forming a « J".

  'Levioso.'

  Instantly, the glass cup rose in the air and started levitating, leaving Freya gobsmacked. Slowly, Igwe lowered her wand and the glass delicately landed back on the table.

  'Your turn now.', she said, looking at Freya. Shaking lightly, Freya pointed her wand at her own drink. 'We'll do it together. You need to focus your energy on your target and remain calm. Alright, here we go, do like me. Look at your cup, 'J' move, and -say it with me - Levioso!' Freya's cup abruptly lifted from the table, stopped mid-air, and started shaking frantically, spilling its contents everywhere on the table. 'You need to calm down, breathe in and out.' Igwe intervened, imperturbable. 'Your wand is very sensitive to your emotions, so you have to be in control. Focus on your objective.'

  Freya did her best to calm her nerves, taking deep breaths and overlooking the snarky smile that had appeared on Elfia Campbell's face. Progressively, the glass stabilized and started floating peacefully above the table.

  'Good! Excellent, Miss Toscani !', Igwe exclaimed, 'Now, one more effort and we're done. Lower your wand slowly and say 'Finite'.' Freya complied, and the glass abruptly landed back on the table, half empty, but in one piece. She couldn't believe what she had just done. A fantastic wave of excitement spread through her, and the warmth in her chest radiated intensely. She couldn't explain how, but she felt like the bond she had with her wand was sealed forever. 'Well, looks like you've passed the test, Miss Toscani !' Igwe put her hand on her arm, 'I'm sure this is quite difficult to take in, but I promise you'll be okay. The reason why we came to you is that - as my colleague said - magic requires skills and knowledge to be used correctly, and can actually be extremely dangerous in untrained hands. We cannot let you roam free with these powers without a bit of education.'

  Freya felt a deep rush of sympathy and gratefulness towards her. She smiled and let out a soft 'I understand. Thank you so much, Miss Igwe.'

  'Besides.', interrupted Campbell's snappy voice, 'You're part of the Wizarding world now, you depend on the Ministry of Magic and must respond to its laws. Do not think any exception will be made for you.' Her gaze was forbidding, hostile.

  Freya lowered her eyes, intimidated. She couldn't understand why this woman was showing such coldness towards her and found it quite odd. But the feeling was definitely mutual.

  All of them paused in an uncomfortable silence, but something caught Freya's eyes near the back of the restaurant. A familiar silhouette had just appeared through a door, next to the music band, and Freya had to stare for a few seconds to make sure she wasn't mistaken. Her heart sank.

  'Oh no !', she whispered, terrified.

Chapter Text

  ‘What is it, Miss Toscani ?’, Nephelia Igwa asked, suddenly agitated.

  Without taking the time to answer, Freya disappeared under the table, grabbing her bag and frantically trying to shove the wand inside.

  Outraged, Elfia Campbell bent over to look under the table.

  ‘What in Merlin's beard are you doing?!’

  ‘The man who just came in from the back door! He wants the wand! He can't see me!’, Freya pleaded, scream-whispering. The two women turned to look in the man's direction. ‘No ! Don't look at him, just pretend I'm not here. Please !’. Freya was completely panicked.

  Nephelia Igwe reacted quickly.

  ‘Invisibilio!’

  Freya felt a weird tingling all over her skin, looked down at her legs, and was surprised to not find them immediately.

  'You're invisible now.’, Igwe said in a low voice.

  Freya looked at her hands, and realized that her skin had taken the exact aspect and texture of her surroundings. She was perfectly camouflaged. She slowly slid back on her chair, still clutching her bag, also rendered invisible.

  She was petrified as she watched Tobias walk through the room with an inscrutable face and a nasty bruise on his temple. His outfit was a bit different from a few hours ago. He still had his pair of straight black jeans, but he had swapped his jacket with a black hoodie. Instead of his low-cut leather boots, he was wearing the pair of white sneakers he always used for work. When he passed by their table, he turned his head and looked in their direction. Nephelia Igwe and Elfia Campbell were sipping on their drinks, pretending to have a conversation. He looked at them both, then at the seemingly empty chair against the wall she was sitting in. Her heart stopped for a second, she could swear he had looked right into her eyes. But he kept on walking, unfazed. He reached the counter and leaned on it.

  ‘Do you know him?’ Igwe asked Freya while looking vaguely in front of her.

  ‘Yes. He’s err... He's a former friend of mine.’, Freya replied, holding her breath and speaking as low as she could, ‘Last night, he came to my house, looking for the wand. I don't know how he knew my grandmother had one. I don't know why he wants it either…'

  Igwe nodded.

  ‘Can you see these people standing at the opposite side of the counter?’, she after a pause, whispering very quickly.

  Freya slowly scanned the room, terrified of the idea of letting Tobias out of her sight. She spotted a group of three people, two men and a woman, chatting silently between them with a cup in their hand, and giving quick glances in Tobias's direction. One man was bald and built like a fridge, and the other, who seemed older than the first one, was short with brown slicked-back hair. The woman stood out particularly. She was short, probably in her late forties, and the tight black shirt she was wearing brought out a bulky and athletic figure. Her thick mass of dark hair that surrounded her round face was gathered into a long braid that fell all the way down to her hips. As she detailed her a bit more, Freya noticed her black lips and a tribal tattoo on her chin. Her small and piercing eyes, crowned by thin and low eyebrows made her look particularly austere. 

  ‘Yes, I do.’, she whispered.

  ‘They're part of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, the equivalent of the muggle police if you will. They are watching him. Our friend might be in trouble.’

  A second man came through the back door. He looked way older than Tobias, with long and dirty greying hair falling around his emaciated face and on his hunched shoulders. He wore a frayed leather jacket that seemed way too big for him, a pair of dark gray and dirty sweatpants, and holed ankle boots. He got close to Tobias, gave him a pat on the back, and they exchanged a few words. Freya had a ringside seat to everything happening between the two. She focused to try and decipher what was being said between them. The older man laughed as he pointed at the bruise on Tobias's temple.

  ‘What's that on yer face? Got into a tiff with yer missus, eh?’ he snickered in a low and raspy voice.

  Tobias gave a faint irritated smirk but didn't respond. Instead, he shoved his hand in his jeans pocket and took out a handful of gold and silver coins that he laid on the countertop between them. Still without a word, he extended his opened hand over the coin stack and discretely gestured to the other man to give him something. The latter greedily looked at the golden coins and shoved his fingers in the tiny worn-out bag he was carrying across his chest. He then put his closed fist in Tobias's open hand and left what looked like two tiny glass bottles. One contained a pearly white and shimmery mixture, while the other looked like it was filled with water. Tobias inspected them for a second, took out the velvet pouch Freya had seen this very morning, dropped the bottles inside, and put it back in his pocket.

  ‘Alright.’, he said, giving a quick tap on his partner's shoulder, ‘I can't stay. If you'll excuse me, I've got more urgent business waiting. I'll see you around, Bert.’ The older man got angered and grabbed Tobias' sleeve.

  'What? Toby! Ye're not even stayin' for a tipple with yer old Bert? By Merlin, who raised ya?', he protested with a voice that had probably been fueled with more tobacco than oxygen.

  'Stop crying, I'll make it up to you. I need to go.', Tobias said as he pulled his arm free and took a golden cigarette case out of his jeans pocket. 

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’, Bert grunted, ‘Don't even bother sayin' thank you, ye little rascal. After all I’ve done to get those for ya…’, he said grumpily, pushing the coins inside his open bag.

  Completely ignoring the man’s complaints, Tobias turned around, put one cigarette in his mouth, and started walking towards the entrance door. At the same moment, the group at the end of the counter slowly stood up, acting as if they were gathering their belongings. Tobias saw them. Everything ensued in a flash.

  He turned back, patting his pockets, and walked back calmly to the back door. Surprised, the group started following him.

  ‘Sir!’, said one of the two men. Tobias didn't respond and walked faster. He was almost at the door, ‘Stop right here !’, screamed the other one. Tobias had his hand on the door handle and was ready to pull on it. The woman's voice erupted.

  ‘Petrificus Totalus!’

  A white flash crossed the room in a deafening crackling noise and landed on Tobias's back, who stiffened and fell flat on the wooden floor with a loud thud. Freya let out a scream. All the patrons stood up and a loud clamor grew in the pub.

  'Alright, alright, we're from the M.L.E.P., there's nothing to see here !’, the woman shouted, showing a golden badge, immediately bringing silence back. Freya saw the old Bert take advantage of the situation to trot his way out of the pub, while the three agents ran toward the back of the pub. They were now around Tobias's stiff body, searching his pockets. The female agent kneeled next to him and leaned over his face.   

  ‘You can't stay out of trouble for long, can't you? How many trips to Azkaban will you need?’. She stood back and swayed her wand.

  'Levicorpus.'

  Tobias's body lifted up in the air, straight as a plank, and slowly floated out of the open back door before the three wizards, who soon disappeared behind it as well. When the door slammed shut, the clamor immediately grew back and the band resumed playing.

***

  'His name is Tobias Gaunt.’, Freya explained to Nephelia Igwe and Elfia Campbell, after she had calmed down and was made visible again, ‘We've had a... rocky relationship, I'd say. From the moment she knew who he was, my grandmother had always been very critical of my association with him... He had never been inside my house before yesterday. Now I understand there was more to this than just her not liking him, which she had every reason to anyways.’ She paused for a moment, trying to make sense of everything, ’So... He's a wizard too ?’

  The two witches exchanged a knowing look.

  ‘We've certainly heard that name before.’, Campbell said in a serious tone.

  Freya looked at her intensely, waiting for her to elaborate, but she remained desperately silent.

  'You said he had never come inside your grandmother's house before yesterday, right?', Igwe asked softly, 'Why is that?'

  Freya cleared her throat. Talking about her intimate relationship with a now convicted felon with two women she only knew for almost a day was a bit uncomfortable.

  'Well... Living with your grandmother has its perks, but it can become tricky when it comes to having, you know... A love life. I value my privacy on that matter. I never brought men into her house. It was her sacred space. Our sacred space. Gaunt and I always met in his apartment, not far from here. This went on for three months.'

  'But he knew where you lived, and who you lived with, right?'

  Freya inhaled and exhaled deeply.

  'No. I never told him. As I told you, I value my privacy. He never asked who my grandmother was, either. Until I tried to leave him, because...', Freya shook her head, 'That's irrelevant. We met in a bar in London. We argued, and I left him. But the next day, he showed up at our door... I had forgotten my wallet at the bar... and he came to give it back to me. I knew it was him, but I let Nana answer the door. I couldn't face him. Something weird happened. I remember... She opened the door, and they stared at each other. Like they knew each other, you know? She slammed the door in his face and told me to stay away from him. She was furious. I had never seen her like this before.'

  'And did you stay away from him?', Igwe asked. Freya blushed a little.

  'Erm... No.', she admitted reluctantly, lowering her head, 'He somehow... Managed to convince me to stay with him. I'm not sure how, but... I was seeing him in secret. When he wasn't god knows where, doing god knows what, giving no signs of life. This went on for another three months.' Freya paused for a few seconds, hesitating. An unpleasant feeling of shame grew inside her. How could she have been so fucking stupid? She clicked her tongue. 'Then he tried to break into our house, but he failed. That was probably two weeks before he disappeared completely. Well, I believe it was him.', she let out abruptly.

  'What else has he done?', Igwe asked very matter-of-factly. Freya sighed heavily.

  'Erm... He stole money from me. And from his boss, Mickey. I never knew what for.' Igwe nodded. A silence settled, during which Igwe seemed to think deeply about what Freya had just said.

  'Has he ever been violent with you?', she asked finally, her voice taking a softer tone. Freya's heart tightened painfully.

  'Not until last night.' she let out with a sigh. A brief worried frown contracted Igwe's eyebrows. Her yellow eyes passed over her arms and chest, probably looking for any signs of injury. Freya lowered her head, praying hard that Igwe wouldn't ask for more details.

  'How did you keep him from finding your wand?', Igwe asked.

  Freya exhaled in relief and thought for a second. She couldn't muster up the courage to tell her what had really happened. It was all too fresh, too personal, too intimate, and she certainly wouldn't believe her.

  'I lied to him. I hid the wand and let him leave with its empty box. I told him I hadn't opened it.'

  'He doesn't know you have it, then?' 

  Freya's leg started shaking uncontrollably and she crossed her arms tight around her chest. The ominous threats he had made suddenly came back into her mind.

   'I promise you, Freya... If I find out that you have lied to me in any way... There will be serious consequences. Ones you will not recover from.'

  She felt nauseous.

  'For now. He will know soon enough. Probably already does, if he managed to open the box... He'll come back for me, won't he?', she let out with a shudder, suddenly terrified.

  Igwe gave a slightly frightened look to Campbell, who remained oddly impassible.

  'Well, he's just been arrested, Miss Toscani.', she said quickly, suddenly agitated, 'I understand that he's a threat to you, and we'll make sure he remains as far from you as possible. What you've just told me will only add to his already extensive criminal record. You won't have to worry about him for a while. We'll ensure your protection either way, alright?'

  Freya wasn't reassured at all but nodded, already planning her escape to London on the very evening.

  ‘I think it's time for us to part ways, Miss Toscani. It's been great meeting you.’, Igwe said abruptly.

  ‘B-but…', Freya stuttered.

  ‘We're out of time for today, but you'll hear from us very soon, I promise.', Igwe interrupted, ‘In the meantime, I would advise you to always keep your wand safe in your home until our next encounter. Find a safe place to hide it, and do not leave your home for too long if you can.', Freya pinched her lips. Fuck. 'Also, keep an eye out for owls in the next few days.’ Freya raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Owls?’

  ‘They are our messengers. If you see one on your windowsill, let it in. That's how we'll be able to arrange our next encounter.’ Elfia Campbell cleared her throat ostensibly. 'Oh! I almost forgot !’ Igwe took Freya's hand and held it tightly. ‘You are part of the Wizarding society now, but your friends and relatives are not. As I told you earlier, non-magic people, or muggles, must not be made aware of the Wizarding world's existence. According to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, you must swear a magical oath that you will keep this secret. For now at least.’

  ‘Err... Okay.’, Freya whispered, puzzled.

  Inserting her fingers between Freya's, Igwe raised their conjoined hands and held them in front of their eyes.

  ‘I'm very sorry about this, but we cannot give you a choice in this matter.’, Igwe added in a serious tone, ‘Elfia ?’ Campbell took her wand out and swayed it. A thin and white luminous rope came out of its tip and wrapped itself around their hands. Nephelia Igwe stared intensely into Freya's eyes and spoke. ‘Freya Toscani, do you swear to comply with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy ?’

  Freya hesitated. She had no idea what she was getting herself into and a million questions were racing through her mind.

  ‘What happens if I don't ?’, she finally asked, more abruptly than she intended.

  Elfia Campbell leaned towards her with a menacing look.

  ‘Are you afraid of death ?’, she asked.

  Freya gulped.

  ‘Y-yes.’

  'Well, what happens if you don't comply is worse.’, Campbell retorted sternly.

  Freya turned to Nephelia Igwe for reassurance, but all she got was a confirmation nod.

  ‘It is the best for everyone's safety, trust me. Especially since the events that occurred recently, the balance between the magical and non-magical world has been greatly challenged. It is essential to know that we can rely on you.’, Igwe said, ‘Do you swear to comply with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy?’, she repeated.

  Freya exhaled heavily. Never, in her life, did she have to make such a blind decision. The only element that could overthrow the heavy weight of her innate and constant prudence was her burning curiosity. She knew virtually nothing about what she was about to jump into, she didn’t even know if all of this was real. She had no comprehension of the stakes of her decision. She took one deep breath.

  ‘I do.’, she finally let out.

  The luminous rope glowed brighter and took a golden color. It tightened around their hands, tying them together.

  ‘You should know that this includes not practicing any kind of magical operation outside the privacy of your own home. This also includes not telling or demonstrating anything regarding Magic and the Wizarding world to anyone. Including your closest relatives and friends, and social media.’ Nephelia Igwe insisted heavily on the last sentence, ‘Do you understand?’, she pressed Freya, seeing that she was remaining silent. Freya was frozen in anxiety. ‘I imagine this is a lot to take in, and I understand this is a heavy weight to carry on your shoulders all by yourself.’, Igwe continued, ‘I promise we'll tell you more in the coming days. In the meantime, you have to remain patient. Do you understand ?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’, Freya articulated with difficulty. The rope faded, freeing their hands. ‘I'll wait for your return.’, she finally whispered, resigned.

Chapter Text

  'Frey. What the fuck ?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Your ex literally forced himself inside your house, then you had steamy passionate sex with him, then he tried to steal something from you, then he spat at your feet when you told him to leave. That's- what ?!’

  ‘That's pretty much it, yeah. I have no words myself, trust me.’

  ‘What happened ? This doesn't make sense, you're not telling me everything. Are you okay ?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you crying ? Oh, Frey ! Oh my god…'

  This was excruciating. Freya had avoided Nina's calls the whole week in order not to break her oath, but she couldn't resist it anymore. 

  Nina Harker and her had been friends for ten years. Over time, they had built a bond so strong they considered each other as sisters. Nina knew everything about Freya, and Freya knew everything about Nina, down to the littlest detail of their history. Secrets didn't exist. Lies weren't an option, even those made by omission. They could effortlessly read each other's expressions and tone without even seeing each other. They were each other's pillar, an immutable point of stability through every trial of their lives. 

  Having to lie to Nina's face, while being fully aware that Nina knew she was lying seemed like torture to Freya. It felt like a betrayal. Never did she have to fight against herself this hard.

  She had to get at least some things out, however, even if it meant sobbing uncontrollably on the phone without being able to explain why. She couldn't tell her about the wand, about magic, about witches and wizards, and all the crazy stuff she had been through. She couldn't tell her about how she suspected that Tobias had used some kind of magic trick or spell to take advantage of her. She couldn't even tell her that he had raped her, because it wasn't technically true, even if it felt like it. She didn't even know much she could hint at anything extraordinary before she would be caught for breaking the magical oath. Therefore, she had to filter those elements out completely, even if it didn't make sense to her best friend. Though she had to stick to half-truths, Nina's voice and presence was what she needed the most.

  ‘Listen…', Freya said after she calmed down a little, her voice shaking with sobs., ‘A lot of things happened lately, but I can't tell you anything about it. It's not that I don't want to, because trust me, I really do…'

  ‘What do you mean you can't tell me ? Who would know if you told me ? Is your phone tapped or something ? Is it Tobias ? I swear to me, if this motherfucker is threatening you in any way, I'm jumping in the next train to send him back in Hell where he comes from.’

  ‘I'm not involved in anything criminal if that's what you're worried about, but... Yeah, I-I'm being watched. Sort of. And no, it's not Tobias. He’s… Quite harmless as of right now. We just need to be patient until this situation clears up a little.’

  ‘Alright. Well, I'm coming this week-end. I'm booking tickets right now.'

  ‘No, no ! Nina, that's not a good idea. I don't want you to get involved right now, and it'd be even harder for me to keep my mouth shut. I could get into serious trouble if I didn't, and you could too ! Please ! I'm hiding things from you against my fucking will, okay ? I wish I could tell you ! I wish I could tell you, Nina ! It's agonizing, let's not make it worse !’ Freya's voice broke and tears started pouring in again.

  Nina remained quiet for a moment. 

  ‘I'm sorry, Nin... I feel like I already said too much. I'm scared. I’m terrified. I don't know what's going on, but don't worry too much, okay ? I'll be alright. I promise.’

  ‘It's okay, Frey, I understand.’, Nina replied after a pause, ‘I've got to go back to work anyway. I'll check up on you tonight. Please take care of yourself, I'm here if you need me.’

  She hung up. The coldness in Nina's voice indicated many things. Freya knew her friend's fierce temper, and she knew she wouldn't let go. She threw her phone on the ground, swooped on the sofa, and hit it repeatedly, screaming, unleashing her rage, frustration and guilt. She hit it to the point of hurting herself, burning her knuckles against the fabric, bruising her shins, but she needed it. She was in control of that pain, at least. 

***

  It had been six days since Freya's encounter with the two witches, and she still hadn't heard anything from them. No owl, no letter, no nothing.

  As much as she tried keeping herself busy, alternatively attending her pending work and sorting her grandmother’s belongings, she was in a constant state of expectancy. Waiting endlessly for a message, an owl on the windowsill, or even the tiniest piece of information was terribly frustrating. Having to keep this whole ordeal a secret to anyone around her was excruciating. She was pacing up and down like a caged lion, resisting the urge to go back to the Ole Cooking Pot and attempt to find the two witches, to tell Nina everything, anything that could alleviate this burden and help her understand.

  What could even be worse than death ?

  Rummaging through wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets, boxes, photo albums and books, she searched for every little element her grandmother would have left that could be linked to magic. She found none. She was stuck, and desperately alone in this.

  On the morning of the seventh day, as she was tidying her bedroom and organizing a stack of notebooks on her shelves, a note fell off one of them and landed at her feet. She picked it up and opened it. Her grandmother's note. The one Freya found in her hand that terrible morning. It had her name on it. She had kept it safe between the pages of her journal. She re-read it, feeling her throat tighten.

  'My beloved Freya, my sweet rose,

  I thereby leave you my house, and everything inside. Though my heart and soul will

  permeate its walls forever, it is now yours to call it "Home".

  Talk to it, and it will respond to you.

  Sing to it, and it will open up to you.

  Protect it, and it will protect you.

  Make it yours, my Sunshine, as it is meant to be.

  You are and will always remain my Sunshine.

  I love you dearly.

  Nana.'

  Freya felt tears fill up her eyes. But this time something happened inside her. She suddenly had a click. There was more to this letter than an informal testament. Her grandmother knew what she was doing when she wrote those words. She read the letter several times and one sentence struck out.

  ‘Protect it, and it will protect you.'

  Is this some kind of riddle ?

  Freya realized... It did ! The house did protect her against Tobias. It reacted to her emotions and acted on its own. There was the first clue.

  ‘Talk to it, and it will respond to you.’

  Freya looked around, not sure how to interpret the message. After a short consideration, she opted for the literal sense of it. After all, if the house was able to act on its own, it might very well be able to understand words, wouldn't it ? It wouldn't even be surprising. She looked back at the letter.

  ‘... it is all yours to call it « Home ».'

  She stepped out of her room, her wand in one hand and the letter in the other, and found herself in the corridor. She felt incredibly stupid.

  ‘Home ?’, she called out. Something moved in a metallic sound above her. She looked up, and saw the ceiling pendant sway gently, as if it had been pushed by an invisible hand. She looked around, searching for any open window a breeze could have come in from, but they were all closed. This was encouraging.

  ‘Home ?’, she called out again hesitantly.

  The pendant shook again and the lightbulb came on, emitting a soft yellow light. But it looked different than usual.

  As she looked closer, she noticed that tiny luminescent bubbles were floating around the lightbulb. The light seemed out of this world. Suddenly, the other light fixtures in the corridor lit up, producing the same soft and ethereal glow. She approached one of them. She had never seen anything more beautiful and fantastical. She passed her hand next to the lightbulb. The tiny light bubbles floated through and around her fingers, then slowly went back to orbiting around the light source. Marveled, her face opened in a blissful smile. The house had responded.

  ‘Do you recognize me, Home ?’, she asked out loud.

  She heard a ruffling noise coming from her grandmother's bedroom. A book came out the open door, flapping its covers and pages like a butterfly, and flew gently toward her. Freya  shrieked and stepped back, but caught it.

  ‘What ?’, she exclaimed.

  It was a photo album, filled with pictures of her at various ages in every corner of the house, in the garden, playing with the dog, reading, drawing, and posing with her grandparents.

  Wait.

  She had never seen those pictures before, and... They were moving.

  She could see her little self, her grandparents, and even her parents smiling and waving at her, just like tiny videos captured on glazed paper. She took some pictures out of their little plastic slot, turning them over to make sure they weren't actual mini-screens; but no. They were actual photographs, and her family seemed... Alive in them.

  She browsed through them for a while, reliving those forgotten memories as if she were actually there. Amazed, she laughed while tears streamed down her face. She could remember these pictures being taken with that beautiful vintage-looking Polaroid device her Nana always carried with her. But she always hid them before they fully developed.

  ‘You'll see them later, Pumpkin !’, she always said. But Freya never did... until now.

  Where was that Polaroid, by the way ? She had been actively looking for it for the past week, but it was nowhere to be found. She closed the photo album, promising herself to look at the rest of it in her bed this very night. Her house did recognize her, and she felt an intense connection to it, stronger than it ever was before.

  ‘Home. Thank you for defending me against Tobias, last week.’ she said out loud. A soft rumble spread through the walls and floor, and the lights briefly took a reddish tone.

  ‘Yeah, he really is a bastard, isn't he ?', she said to herself.

  She put the photo album on the little desk next to the staircase, wiped off her tears, and looked at the letter again. She got it now. Her Nana had given her instructions. But how did she know her granddaughter would be able to use magic ?

  ‘Sing to it, and it will open up to you.’

  Both her grandparents loved listening to music, she remembered the long hours she spent with them in the living room, sitting next to their sound system, dancing and singing, jumping seamlessly from Beethoven and Schubert to Johnny Cash and David Bowie. It suddenly came back to her. Her Nana's favorite song. From her bed, Freya would hear her sing its chorus softly at night in the corridor, like a lullaby as she passed by her bedroom door.

  ‘Make it yours, my Sunshine, as it is meant to be.’

  ‘Ah, there it is !’, Freya whispered excitedly.

  She had found the key. But to what exactly ? Hesitant, she looked around and started singing softly.

  ‘You are my sunshine

  My only sunshine’

  Freya jumped as something clicked on the ceiling at the end of the corridor. She continued.

  ‘You make me happy

  When skies are grey’

  A crease appeared on the paneling, soon forming a rectangular shape.

  ‘You'll never know dear

  How much I love you’

  The crease widened, and a trap door opened in a quiet rustling sound. Freya kept singing as she watched, amazed.

  ‘Please don't take

  My sunshine away.’

  As she sang the three last words, a fine metal staircase unfolded smoothly in front of her all the way to the floor. She looked up to the hatch. A pitch-black square in the white paneling of the ceiling, waiting for her.

Chapter Text

  Hesitantly, she walked towards the stairs and climbed them, unsure how such a delicate structure could hold her weight.

  She couldn't decipher anything in the pitch darkness of the attic, and as she was halfway through the hatch, a wave of fear took over her. But as she was about to chicken out and climb down the stairs, the lights suddenly came on.

  Startled and wary, she slowly turned around. In front of her, lit by a chandelier, was a massive wooden desk. Behind it stood a half-circular bookcase that surrounded the whole working area. Books, plants, and all sorts of peculiar-looking objects filled the shelves. A secret room.

  She climbed the remaining steps and walked towards the desk. The whole room was filled with all sorts of bizarre objects. Right next to her was hung a tall mirror where she was surprised not to find her reflection when she looked into it, but a shadow that merely resembled her. This sight frightened her and she quickly moved towards to desk. On the opposite wall was, sitting on two golden hooks, what looked like a broom. Upon closer look, she noticed its wooden shaft looked sculpted and carved. At the end of the stick, the long bristles seemed waxed and glued together, forming a flame shape. What looked like a small saddle with two golden stirrups was affixed on the shaft.

  Is this a joke ? A flying broom ? Do witches and wizards actually fly on brooms ?

  Right next to it, on a coat rack, was hanging a long coat made of green wool, a pair of aviator glasses and a pointy hat. She carefully took the hat and inspected it. It really looked like the ones you could see in books and movies. The grounded part of her brain couldn't help but think this was nothing but an elaborate joke, or that maybe her Nana was, unbeknownst to everyone, really into cosplay. But her pondering was quickly interrupted when she saw something move in the corner of her eye, next to the bookcase.

  ‘What the fuck ?!’, she let out while stepping back until she hit the wall behind her.

  In a black sphere standing on a wooden base, was a giant blue eye, silently staring at her. Its pupil moved up and down on each part of her body and never blinked. She remained frozen against the wall for a few seconds until the eyeball finally turned away and stared blankly into the distance.

  When she finally managed to gather herself, and after a quick reflection, she concluded that this thing probably wasn't dangerous, since her Nana had kept it in her secret room.   She regained her courage and decided to ignore it, but still stayed at a reasonable distance from it.

  She gently slid towards the bookcase to take a closer look. It was high and majestic, intricately carved and ornamented in a gothic style. She inspected the books and noticed they were all organized in distinct sections designated by handwritten labels. But instead of author names or genres, the label read words like ‘Potions’, ‘Charms and Spellcraft’, ‘Herbology' or even ‘Dark Arts’. She took one out of the ‘Herbology’ section, held it between her hands and read on the ornate cover : Offensive Herbology : a guide to growing and using combat plants safely (for you !), by Mirabel Garlick.

  ‘Combat plants ?’, Freya asked out loud, perplexed.

  She turned the pages rapidly, occasionally stopping to watch moving drawings of a cabbage jump around and snap its sharp teeth at her, or of a baby-looking root scream so loud to the point of knocking out the poor wizard standing next to it. She looked back at the bookcase. There were so many books, she wanted to read them all. She closed the first one, put it on the desk and took out another one from the ‘Potions' section.

  The Complete Potions Recipes Collection. Tome I, by Aesop Sharp, was written in the fumes of a bubbling cauldron on the cover. Looking back at the bookcase, she saw that three other tomes followed the first. But another one caught her eye.

  At the very end of the section, the back of a dark, smaller book read : Forbidden Brews : An Exhaustive Compendium of The Most Dangerous Potions in the History of Magic, by Harry J. Potter.

  She put down the volume she had in her hands on the desk, took out the mysterious little book, and looked at the cover. Surrounded by sharp thorns and serpents, a sealed bottle with a stylized skull inside of it was printed in green ink on the black leather.

  Well, that sets the tone, Freya thought.

  She opened it to the first page and found the preface, announced in capital letters and bright red ink :

THIS BOOK IS NOT A RECIPE BOOK AND SHOULD NOT BE USED AS SUCH.

THE BREWING AND POSSESSION OF THE POTIONS DESCRIBED IN THIS COMPRENDIUM ARE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN BY THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC, AND ARE SANCTIONED BY IMMEDIATE TRANSFER TO THE PRISON OF AZKABAN.

THE POSSESSION OF THIS BOOK BY ANY OTHER WITCH OR WIZARD THAN A DESIGNATED AGENT OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC IS FORBIDDEN AND WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE CONFISCATION AND TRANSFER TO THE PRISON OF AZKABAN.

  ‘Well, damn.’, Freya let out.

  She worried for a second. Wasn't she theoretically breaking the law right now ? Was she allowed to hold this book ? If her Nana kept it here, it probably means it was safe, wasn't it? Also, this meant what Nephelia Igwe told her was true.

  Her grandmother did work at the Ministry of Magic, and at an important position at that, if she was designated to be able to own that book. That explained a lot. As far as she could remember, she never really knew what her Nana did for a living. All her life, she was told that Hestia Blake was a middle-school teacher.

  Azkaban... She had heard that name before. Yes! She had heard the woman at the Ole Cookin' Pot mention it to Tobias. He was sent to prison!

  Good, she thought, that's all he deserves.

  She hesitated. She probably wasn't supposed to read that. Would they be able to know if she did? She turned the page and found the table of contents. There was a list of over a hundred potions divided into four chapters :

I. Sickness and injury-inducing potions

II. Manipulation and free-will interfering potions

III. Cursing and hexing potions

IV. Shape-shifting potions

V. Lethal potions

  She skimmed through the first chapter, noting that even witches and wizards were capable of the utmost pettiness and will to harm, even in the most ridiculously inconvenient ways.  Without mentioning the more classic forms of harm, going as far as inventing a potion that will give the drinker an incurable and permanent illusion of hearing a mosquito fly next to their ears was, to Freya, an extraordinary display of evilness.

  She reached the second chapter.

  'Manipulation and free-will interfering potions.'

  The very first potion to be mentioned was Amortentia. Just from the realistically drawn representation of it, she instantly recognized it. It had that distinctive pearly white and shimmery aspect, the same as the potion she had seen in Tobias's hands at the pub the week before. She read the description.

  ‘Amortentia is the most powerful Love Potion in the world. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortientia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them.'

  Freya's heart dropped. She continued reading.

  ‘Though powerful infatuations can be induced by the skillful potioneer, never yet has anyone managed to create the truly unbreakable, eternal, unconditional attachment that alone can be called Love.

  Its effects can last for a few hours up to several days, depending on the quantity ingested by the drinker. When under its influence, the victim is put into a conscious state of unbounded infatuation and obsession with the potion's creator. This conscious state of alteration is what makes this potion an equally dreadful and formidable weapon. Not only will the victim behave in out-of-character ways for an indefinite amount of time, but they will also remember it and will be unable to deny their accountability when faced with their actions.

  Its effects can be multiplied when mixed with the Maxima Potion.’

  Freya was dumbfounded. Everything led her to believe Tobias had laced his cake with this potion. She remembered the unusually strong smell of chocolate that filled the entire hallway when he opened the container, one of her favorite smells... And the exchange he had with the disheveled man at the pub... 

  'What a sick bastard! Is this what he had been doing for months ?!', Freya yelled, outraged.

  Her rage was boiling up again. That could explain why she had been so strangely infatuated with him for six months despite his terrible behavior with her, which sparked general confusion amongst her family and friends, who desperately tried to warn her against him. She was an adult, experienced, balanced, and stable enough not to give into this kind of toxic relationship. And yet...

  A horrendous but familiar feeling of being used and abused took over her. She felt dirty and violated. Nauseous, she tossed the open book on the other two, pulled the chair from under the desk, and let herself fall in it, burying her face in her hands.

  Tap-tap-tap

  Freya stood up in her chair, not sure of what she had heard.

  Tap-tap-tap-tap

  ‘Oh, what now ?’, she cried, her heart racing.

  Tap-tap

  Freya stood up. The sound seemed to be coming from downstairs. She cautiously walked towards the staircase, listening closely.

  Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap

  It was getting louder, and It sounded like something was tapping on a window somewhere. She slowly went down, turned her head towards her bedroom, and gasped.

  On the other side of the glass, standing on the windowsill was a magnificent grey owl, staring impatiently at Freya with its impressive orange eyes. Freya ran to the window to open it, but was welcomed by an angry wing-flapping, clearly indicating it had been waiting way too long.

  ‘Geez, I'm sorry !’, she said, putting her arms up to protect her face. The owl let out a series of irritated hoots and outstretched one of its legs, showing a rolled piece of paper attached to it with a piece of string. Freya untied the knot and took the message, her heart pounding in her chest.

  ‘Thank you !’, she exclaimed. The owl let out another angry hoot.

  Freya feverishly unsealed the tiny roll and opened it, avid for any new information she could get. She instantly recognized the handwriting and the purple ink.

  'Dear Miss Toscani,

  I hope you are doing well.

  First and foremost, congratulations and thank you for not breaking your magical oath.

  I am deeply sorry for not coming back to you sooner, Miss Campbell and I have been rather busy. This is probably very short notice, but we'd like to meet you at the same place, same time this very day, if it suits you. If not, kindly provide us with another option that'll be more convenient for you. Within the next two days, preferably.

  Please write your answer below this message and give the roll back to Ebenezer.

  Kindest regards,

  Nephelia Igwe.'

  Freya looked at the time on her phone. 12:34 PM. With the first ball-point pen she found in her room, she wrote her answer on the corner of her bedside table while the redoubtable Ebenezer was pressuring her by clattering his beak.

  ‘Hey, stop it, will you ?’, she snapped back at the bird. After she finished writing her positive answer, she hastily rolled the piece of paper and gave it to the owl who snatched it from her fingers and immediately took off.

  ‘Geez…’, she mumbled to herself, confused and upset to have been bullied by a bird. How did magical people not have a more convenient way of exchanging messages?

  She let herself fall on her bed and exhaled deeply.

  Finally.

Chapter Text

  She had arrived early at the Ole Cooking Pot. Unable to eat anything, she had taken the time to get ready for the meeting with the two witches. She had braided her hair, put on her favorite pair of earrings and passed on her most elegant and comfortable linen dress for the occasion, along with a pair of leather ankle boots. For the first time in days, she felt like she was regaining a little bit of control over the events. She took the two letters from Nephelia Igwe and a notebook, in which she had written a handful of questions she very much intended to ask and receive answers to.

  To her surprise, she wasn’t even that scared of the possibility of stumbling upon Tobias. Now that she knew what he was, and had a better idea of what tricks he used to get to her, she felt like she was more equipped to face him. Except for the excruciating wait she had to endure, the week she had spent at home had been rather uneventful. Nobody had come to assault her during her few trips out, and nobody had forced themselves inside her house.

  While she waited, she carefully observed the witches and wizards sitting around her. She hadn’t really paid attention the first time she had stepped foot in the pub, but she noticed that, even though they were all wearing seemingly normal clothes, they all seemed a bit out-of-style. As if they were stuck in the mid-1990s. Not one single pointy hat was in sight, but no cell phone either. Unlike in any other pub, there was no TV broadcasting the ongoing rugby game, no modern music blasting on loudspeakers.

  The architecture was even more ancient, almost untouched for a few centuries. The high timbering of the ceiling forming a gothic vault, the paneling, the wooden pillars in the walls topped by carved capitals, the lattice windows, the tapestries, candelabrums, and gas lamps hung on the walls created an enchanted atmosphere that Freya very much appreciated. She scanned the room and looked in the direction of the back door. Right next to the door frame was a wooden rack she had not seen before, and on it were stacked what she immediately recognized as brooms, just like the one she saw in her Nana’s secret room.

  So they really do use brooms!, she thought, amazed.

  The door opened, startling Freya, deeply sunk into her contemplation, and two women entered the pub. One, tall and elegant, and the other, short and scruffy. The first one saw Freya and marched towards her with a bright smile, her arms wide open.

  ‘Oh, Miss Toscani, there you are! I’m so glad to see you !’, she said in a high-pitched voice.

  Freya greeted her back, hardly hiding her excitement. Elfia Campbell joined them with her habitual closed face. They all sat together. Freya was boiling with anticipation. She took out her wand and her notebook, ready to start the conversation, but Igwe spoke first. ‘We won’t be staying here long, Miss Toscani.’. Freya’s face dropped.

  'What do you mean? Why ?'

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re coming with us.’, Igwe replied with a soft smile.

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘An interview has been arranged for you at the Ministry of Magic. As you already know, we’ve never encountered a case like yours before, and it naturally raises questions and requires special attention. The Minister of Magic wants to meet you. In person.’

  ‘The Minister of Magic? But I don’t have much more to say than what you already know, I don’t even know how, or why any of this happened…’

  ‘Do not worry too much. The Minister is a great witch and an overall wise and benevolent person. I know you probably have many questions, and I’m sure she’ll be able to answer them. I hope you don’t have anything planned for the next… Four to five hours ?’

  ‘Erm…’, Freya thought fast. Once again, she was asked to throw herself into something she knew nothing about. Perhaps she should text Nina or her mum to tell them to be on alert in case she disappeared? What if this was a trap? She was alone, she had no close relatives or friends to call for help close by.

  ‘No. I’m free.’, she answered after a short pause.

  ‘Good! Shall we go then?’, Igwe exclaimed enthusiastically, ‘Do you want to order a drink before we leave? A Frizzies maybe? They have to-go cups.’, she added.

***

   Her Frizzies in hand, Freya followed the two witched towards the back door.

  ‘So… Are only wizards allowed in this pub ?’, she asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s not that they’re the only ones allowed, it’s just that it is simply not accessible to muggles. The Ole Cooking Pot is… some kind of airlock between the magical and non-magical world, if you will. Almost every town in England has one. A lot of wizards actually live and work among muggles - more than ever, actually - and they need to be able to safely transition from one side to another - After you, Miss Toscani.’

  Nephelia Igwe kept chatting enthusiastically while they passed the door and ended up in a small corridor, dimly lit with gas lamps. At the end of each wall of the corridor were sitting three massive fireplaces with green flames burning inside.

  ‘There we are !’, she proclaimed when they arrived in front of the central fireplace, ‘This is the passage to the Ministry.’

  Freya was dumbfounded.

  ‘Is-is the Ministry behind the fireplace ?’, she asked timidly.

  The two witches bursted out laughing.

  ‘Oh no! I’m sorry, I sometimes forget you’re not familiar with magic at all !’, Igwe replied, putting a comforting hand on Freya’s arm, ‘No, the Ministry is in London, but we use chimneys to travel, among other ways. This chimney is direct access to the Ministry.’

  Freya couldn’t wrap her head around the concept of traveling through a chimney directly to London.

  ‘Is it like a tube or something?’

  Freya could feel Campbell’s scornful gaze on her. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  ‘No, Miss Toscani. You go inside the chimney and it takes you to the Ministry. How is this hard to understand ?’, she replied arrogantly.

  Freya stared at her, and words escaped her mouth before she could stop them.

  ‘Well, it’s hard to understand for me! I know nothing about witchcraft, or magic, or whatever. I was just a regular girl a week ago and now my whole world is turned upside down. In my world, magic is something you only find in books and movies, something that does not exist. Would you expect someone who’s never seen a car to know how to drive it?

  ‘We don’t use cars', Igwe whispered.

  ‘You don’t - Well why don’t you drive a car ?’, she continued, looking at Campbell, ‘You step on the pedals, turn the wheel and it moves. How is this hard to understand?’

  Elfia Campbell scoffed haughtily.

  ‘Watch your mouth.’, she replied menacingly. Igwe immediately stepped between the two of them to diffuse the situation.

  ‘Alright, alright. Let’s not get heated right now. Miss Toscani, you’re awaited. We’ll show you how it works, okay? Elfia, please.’

  With the dirtiest look Freya ever had the displeasure of being given, Elfia Campbell shoved her hand in the metal pot on the side of the mantelpiece and took out a handful of what appeared to be ashes. Slowly, she stepped inside the fireplace, directly into the green flames.

  ‘Now watch.’, Igwe whispered.

  Campbell dropped the content of her hand at her feet. In a flash, the green flames grew in a whirlwind, engulfing her completely. Freya let out a loud gasp as the witch disappeared from the fireplace.

  Stunned, Freya stared at the chimney, unable to speak.

  ‘Your turn now, Miss Toscani.’, Igwe said, outstretching her arm towards the hearth. Freya mechanically moved forward, ‘Take the floo powder in the pot. Alright, now step into the flames - don’t worry, they don’t burn. Now drop the powder at your feet and you’ll be off !’

  Freya stood awkwardly into the slow-burning flames, staring at the tall witch kindly smiling at her.

  ‘Can’t you come with me?’, she muttered timidly.

  ‘Oh, I’m afraid not, Miss Toscani. There’s only room for one person, unfortunately. But I swear you’ll be fine! I’ll see you in a few seconds.’

  It was too late to back out now. Freya closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and dropped the powder at her feet.

Chapter Text

  Before she knew it, she found herself in what felt like a rollercoaster. Except it was going at light speed and she was not safely harnessed in a seat and her whole body seemed to be stretched in very unnatural ways. This didn’t last long though, as she quickly made brutal contact with the cold, hard ground.

  Dazed, she whimpered in pain as she tried to stand back up, only to realize she was in an entirely different place than she was just a second ago. It was large, crowded, and noisy. The first thing she heard distinctly was a nasty snicker.

  ‘How was the trip, Miss Toscani ?’, Elfia Campbell said tauntingly, kneeling beside her. 

  Without answering, Freya gathered what had spilled out of her bag in her fall. When she raised her head, she realized she was surrounded by a crowd of curious people staring at her.

  ‘Are you okay ?’, a tall man asked on her left.

  ‘Yes. Thank you, sir.’, she whispered as she stood up with difficulty, happy to being shown a thin ray of sympathy.

  The man approached her. He was wearing a curious purple and grey ensemble, and a shiny golden badge sat proudly on his corduroy waistcoat.

  ‘What do you have here ?’, he asked, pointing at her hand.

  ‘Erm, that’s my cellphone, sir.’, she answered, confused.

  ‘A shellphone ? Should I remind you that the possession of muggle technology is strictly forbidden inside the Ministry, especially these things ? Unless you’re part of the Muggle Relations Department, which I know you aren’t, you must surrender it immediately or I’ll have to confiscate it.’

  The man spoke so loud that even more people stopped to watch the scene.

  Panicked, Freya looked around in search of Nephelia Igwe, but all she found was Elfia  Campbell’s smug expression.

  ‘No, no, you don’t understand, I’m - It’s mine, I-‘

  ‘I knew you were a mole ! I should have stopped you before you stepped in that fireplace !’ Campbell exclaimed angrily.

  Freya was staggered. Before she could even manage to speak, the man took his wand out and exclaimed ‘Accio !’ Instantly, the cell phone slipped out of her hand and landed in his.

  She turned around and looked at Campbell in disbelief.

  ‘Why are you doing this ?!’, she yelled.

  ‘Don’t try to blame others for your own mischiefs, eh ?’, said the man as he grabbed her arm, ‘You’ll have to follow me now, Miss.’

  Freya quickly pulled her arm out, which instantly made the wizard raise his wand. She had to play the only card she had in her sleeve.

  ‘Sir, I’m sorry but I can’t. I’m here to meet the Minister of Magic. She’s waiting for me right now.’, she proclaimed, trying to sound as firm as she could despite the shaking in her voice.

  The wizard let out a mocking laugh.

  ‘Oh, the Minister, no less !’, he chuckled, ‘Well, you’ll still have to come with me, young lady. By order of the M.L.E.P.’, he added with a tone that left no room for negotiation.

  There was no escape. She had already seen what the agents of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol were capable of, and she had no desire to be transformed into a floating plank herself.

  ‘Fine.’, she finally let out.

***

   Freya was sitting in an extremely uncomfortable chair, in an extremely uncomfortable room with bare walls and no windows. A wooden table separated her from the M.L.E.P agent, who sat in front of her in a much more pleasant-looking chair. The only thing she could think of as she observed him was how unremarkable his appearance was. He was probably in his forties, neither attractive nor ugly. Neither short nor tall. Neither big nor slim. He had no distinctive trait, like a hooked nose, sticky-out ears, a mustache, or a beard. He was balding, and the short hair he had left was of a faded and greying blonde color, and his eyes were of a dark and off-blue hue. Freya thought that if someone morphed every single average British white man in their forties to only make one, it would probably look like him. Even the name she could read on the badge that sat proudly on his chest was incredibly unremarkable: Peter Smith. 

  ‘Your wand.’, he ordered, outstretching his hand toward Freya.

  Freya took it out of her bag and reluctantly placed it in front of her. He took it and laid it under the keyboard of a strange-looking typewriter. A few seconds later, the keys started typing vividly, filling the blank page with tiny characters. The agent took it and read it.

  ‘Freya Toscani.’ He laid the paper flat on the table, ‘It says here you’re under close watch of the Wizarding Secrecy Enforcement Patrol. Not good for your case. Your WizardingCard, please.’

  ‘I don’t have one.’

  ‘You don’t have one?'

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then what do you have?'

  ‘A CitizenCard. Or a driver’s license, maybe?’

  She repressed a laugh when she saw the agent’s deadpan expression. If she was going to be arrested in the Wizarding world, she might as well make the most of it.

  Freya took her wallet out of her bag, picked up her CitizenCard, and slid it on the table under the agent’s incredulous eyes. He picked it up and inspected it closely.

  'That’s a muggle card.’, he said with a concerned look.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Why do you have this?’

  ‘Because I am a muggle. Well. Not anymore, apparently.’, she replied nonchalantly. She could feel the agent getting agitated.

  ‘What do you mean, not anymore?’

  ‘I was a muggle, until I was not. Don’t really know how that happened but evidently, I can use magic now. ‘

  The agent recoiled slightly and shook his head.

  ‘Listen here, Miss. I’m not here to play. You’re either a muggle or a witch, you can’t be both. You can’t become one of those either. Don’t make your case worse, it’d pain me to send such a pretty lady like you to Azkaban.’

  Ew.

  Freya shrugged and remained silent. He continued.

  'You are on our registries, and you have a wand, which means you are a witch.’

  ‘Okay, then I am a witch, I guess.’

  ‘Why don’t you have a card, and why do you have a muggle shellphone?’

  ‘It’s a cellphone, with a « C ».’

  ‘Answer the questions.’

  Freya sighed deeply.

  ‘I suppose I don’t have a WizardingCard because I was a muggle still a week ago. I don’t even know what a WizardingCard is. And I have a cellphone because… Well, I live in the muggle world, where we communicate with cell phones. Not owls.' Freya could swear she had never seen anyone this confused in her entire life. She succinctly explained how she was approached by two agents of the Ministry the week before, and was brought here to sort the situation out with the Minister. ‘By the way, the woman who yelled when you arrived, she was one of those agents. Her name is Elfia Campbell, and she lied.’, she added defiantly.

  ‘I know who Elfia Campbell is, thank you very much.’, the wizard replied bluntly, ‘She is a very trusted and reputable Lead Investigator, and I highly doubt she’d lie about anything.’

  ‘Well, she did! I am not a mole, why would I take the risk to expose myself like that if I were one? I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to bring « muggle technology » to the Ministry, no one told me. Besides, the other agent, Nephelia Igwe, was supposed to be with us, but for some reason, she never arrived… None of this would have happened if she had been there.'

  ‘Ah yes, Nephelia Igwe…’, the wizard said pensively with a smirk, ‘Of course.’, he added while writing rapidly on a piece of paper.

  When he put his quill down, the piece of paper instantly rose in the air, folded itself into a plane, and flew through a hatch in the wall.

  Though she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about and was trying her best to appear calm, Freya was getting more anxious by the minute. What happened to Nephelia Igwe ?

  After several minutes spent in complete silence observing the M.L.E.P agent send half a dozen paper planes out of his office, Freya risked a question.

  ‘Can I have my phone back, please ?’

  ‘What for?’, the wizard replied without raising his head.

  ‘It’s mine.’

  ‘No.’

  Freya crossed her arms in frustration.

  ‘Why is muggle technology forbidden here ?’, she finally asked.

  This time, the wizard looked at her with an expression that translated sincere surprise.

  ‘Are you really trying to play the clueless trick on me?’

  ‘I am not playing any tricks on you, sir! I genuinely don’t know what’s happening, I’m just asking for clarifications, that’s all.’

  The M.L.E.P agent scoffed mockingly.

  ‘You little rascals have no shame, haven’t you? Thinking you’re smarter than everyone else, eh? I’ll tell you what. Fifteen years I’ve been doing this. You fuckers have been cut some slack when the Calamity started, you’ve taken advantage of the Ministry’s indulgence and meticulous methods to get ahead of authorities, but this time is over now, you hear me?', he spat, furiously waving his finger at Freya, 'No benefit of the doubt for you. I pity you, actually. Your friends probably exploited your gullibility and sweet little face to send you as bait and create diversion, but you’ll serve as the perfect example of what happens when you attempt to break the law and be an attack to the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.’ Freya listened in silence, completely appalled by what she was hearing. The wizard continued, a maniac smile appearing on his face. ‘Is this the new shtick, pretending to be an innocent muggle-turned-witch? I’ve been told many lies, let me tell you, but this one, ah! By Merlin, this is a first! The bigger the lie, the better it works, eh? Not with me, pretty face.’

  Freya understood there was nothing she could say or do to defend herself. Just as the agent finished speaking, a paper plane landed swiftly on the table in front of him. He opened it, read it quickly, and smirked.

  ‘Alright, we’re done. You’re out now.’, he said, staring at her with a satisfied expression.

  The wizard stood up, and with one gesture ordered Freya to stand up as well. Surprised, she complied mechanically and took one step towards the door.

  Wait!

  She turned around and leaned above the desk to take her wand back.

  ‘Accio!’

  The wand flew across the room, too fast for Freya to catch it. She turned around to see it in the agent’s hand.

  ‘Please give me my wand back.’, she whispered between her teeth.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to keep it a little longer, Miss.’

  ‘Where are we going? Are you going to take me to the Minister ?’

  ‘No, I don’t think you’re going to see her today, actually.’, the wizard said as he opened the door, ‘You’re going with them.’

Chapter Text

  Freya was walking between two wizards in an endless series of dim corridors, passing by what seemed like hundreds of office doors and cubicles, where people would stretch their necks to look at her.

  Terrified, she wouldn’t dare muster a single word. A multitude of questions were racing through her mind, but one dominated them all : what if this was all a trap ?

   She was getting more and more convinced that her intuition had not lied. She should not have agreed to meet the two witches, she should not have chosen to trust them. But what happened to Nephelia Igwe ? She couldn’t help but doubt she was part of this. Was she held back at the Ole Cooking Pot, or was leaving her alone with Campbell part of the plan ?

  When they reached the end of another corridor, the two wizards abruptly stopped in front of a large wooden door.

  ‘Come in.’, ordered the youngest and shortest of the two, pushing on one of the heavy panels.

  Clutching her bag, Freya complied.

  It took some time for her eyes to adjust to the bright beam of light illuminating the center of the room. As she was walking between two high walls in what felt like complete darkness, she finally deciphered what was at the center of that beam : a unique metal chair, bolted to the reflective tiled floor, with what looked like restraints on the armrests.

  She brutally turned around, facing the two wizards behind her.

  ‘What is this ? Where have you taken me ?’, she asked, panicked.

  ‘You have been summoned to an emergency trial. Please move on.’, replied the young wizard, gently pushing her towards the end of the corridor.

  ‘A trial ? But I’ve already been interrogated, this is all a huge mistake !’

  ‘You’ll have plenty of time to explain yourself, sit down now.', interjected the older wizard with a low and imperative voice, standing with all his impressive and menacing stature above Freya.

  Fuck.

  Powerless, Freya turned around and approached the chair. It looked even more dreadful from up close, almost like… a torture chair.

  She sat down, keeping her arms tight around her bag and against her chest, and looked around. Above her head was a single oculus where the light was shining through. Squinting her eyes to pierce through the wall of intense brightness around her, she realized she was at the center of an amphitheater. Against every stone wall of the hexagonal room were wooden bleachers. Standing in front of her, dominating the whole room, was a massive pulpit on which she recognized, engraved in the wood and highlighted in gold, the ‘M’ she had seen on the letter she received the week prior. A scale was carved behind it. The scale of justice. In the circular banner surrounding the logo, she could read : Ignorantia Juris Neminem Excusat. She was in a courtroom. It was real.

  A quiet rumor was running through the room, and soon she was able to distinguish a few human shapes. She didn’t need to see their eyes to know they were all fixated on her.

  Freya felt infinitely small and helpless, like a bug trapped under a glass with limited oxygen and giants observing her. What would become of her was only dependent on their decision.  She’d either be let out or be squashed.

  The oculus above her head suddenly closed.

  As her eyes were adjusting again to the dim atmosphere of the room, she realized she was surrounded by way more people than she initially thought. She could now see them too, dozens of witches and wizards in red robes, and their inquisitive gaze on her almost brought her to tears. 

  Three loud thuds resonated above her and the room fell silent.

  She raised her head towards the pulpit. A tall and old wizard in a purple robe was standing behind the guardrail, looking down on her. Next to him floated a piece of paper and a quill.

  ‘Please decline your identity.’, the wizard ordered in a low and drawling voice. The whole room resonated with a sinister echo. The quill instantly started scratching the surface of the sheet of paper.

  ‘Err... M-My name is Freya Toscani.’, she replied, almost whispering.

  ‘Do you know why you have been summoned here by the Wizenmagot, Miss Toscani ?

  ‘No. This is a mistake, I-‘

  ‘You are only allowed to answer my questions. I don’t think you’d want me to add ‘offense to Wizenmagot’s Chief Warlock’ to your list of accusations. Now, talking about accusations, let me enlighten you since you seem to believe you can weasel your way out by acting innocent.’

  Freya shivered.

  ‘You are being charged with two accounts of interference with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy to the highest degree, which is, according the Wizarding Constitution, a crime punishable by reclusion to the prison of Azkaban. Firstly, you are guilty of improper use of magic in the presence of a muggle. ’

  Freya shook her head frantically, her voice breaking with an irrepressible sob.

  ‘What do you mean? I did not-’

  ‘Have I not been clear enough the first time ?’, the wizard interjected. A rumor circulated in the bleachers. He continued. ‘Please explain how that happened.’

  In front of a muggle?

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.’, she replied, struggling to repress her tears.

  The room fell quiet.

  Visibly unimpressed, the old wizard stared at her silently.

  ‘Being that stubborn isn’t helping you at all.', he announced disapprovingly, 'But very well, then. We’ll come back to this later. Let’s talk about your second account. You have been caught today smuggling muggle technology - a cellphone, more specifically - in the premises of the Ministry of Magic.’ He paused to look at her, ‘Knowing the law regarding this type of device, how do you explain carrying one on yourself? What were your motives ?’, he continued.

  Freya sighed deeply. How could they understand?

  ‘There were no motives. I have a cell phone because muggles use cell phones, and I am a muggle. Or at least I was, until last week. I am the muggle. It’s me. I don’t know what else to tell you!’

  The Chief Warlock let his audience express their disapproval, nodding his head slowly.

   ‘Without considering the fact that what you’re saying is factually impossible, this doesn’t answer my questions, Miss Toscani. I’d highly advise you to stop lying immediately. If you think this is helping your case, I’m here to tell you that you are actually worsening the situation.’, he said in a patronizing tone that Freya found particularly irritating.

  ‘I am not lying!’, she exclaimed, jumping out of the chair, ignoring the protestations coming from every bench of the bleachers, ‘I was brought here by two of the Ministry’s agents to meet the Minister! I already told my story to the M.L.E.P agent who interrogated me earlier, I- ’.

  She suddenly interrupted herself. She remembered something.

  The letters!

  She didn’t know exactly what she was risking with this move, but she was determined to defend herself, no matter the cost. While voices were rising louder around her, she hastily opened her bag and took out the little notebook she had put Nephelia Igwe’s letters in.

  ‘Here !’, she shouted, waving them above her head, ‘Those are the letters they have sent me, one of them has the Ministry’s symbol on it. This comes from you! You seem very informed of what happened in my home, how are you not aware of this, then?’.

  The whole amphitheater erupted in an outraged choir.

  ‘Silence! Sit down !’, the Chief Warlock ordered amid the abrupt chaos, repeatedly slamming his gravel on the desk in front of him.

  Freya wasn’t hearing any of it. She unfolded the letter and held it facing the old wizard, pointing her finger at the symbol.

  ‘Do you see it? This was sent by someone who works here, Nephelia Igwe! The M.L.E.P agent knew who she was! Ask him! Ask them! Elfia Campbell was with her too and she framed me!’, she shouted as loud as she could above the Offense !, Outrageous !, Get her out of here! thrown at her by the witches and wizards, now standing in the bleachers.

  Freya stepped towards the pulpit, still holding the letters, but her foot didn’t even touch the ground before she felt ropes tighten around both her wrists and ankles, and violently pull her back in the chair, slamming her back against it. She was now tied to the chair, unable to move her limbs, terrified and in pain.

  ‘What are you doing?!’, she yelled.

  ‘Order!’, the old wizard shouted back, his voice sounding amplified by a dozen loudspeakers. It resonated in her head like the toll of a giant bell. The amphitheater was now filled with a heavy silence and tense atmosphere, only disturbed by the painfully unpleasant scratch of the quill. ‘How dare you involve highly competent and trusted members of the Ministry in your wrongdoings ?’, he continued, his eyes intensely piercing Freya’s, ‘I’m afraid you’ve missed your chance to be honest and humble where you needed it the most. I think you need some time to yourself to think about your life choices, Miss Toscani.’

  Though he hadn’t explicitly said it yet, Freya instantly knew what he meant. She shook her head frantically.

  ’No, no, no, please, no…’ she whispered very fast in a last-ditch attempt to free herself from the chair.

  ‘Let us proceed to deliberation, shall we?’, the Chief Warlock asked his audience, regaining his calm and drawling voice, 'Is the defendant here guilty of the two accounts of interference with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy to the highest degree? Raise your wands if your answer is « yes. »’.

  Freya looked around, hoping to find a few understanding souls that could save her from her inevitable sentence, but only found a forest of wands raised in the air.

  He continued.

  ‘Is the defendant here guilty of an account of offense to the Chief Warlock and the members of the Wizenmagot by lying, speaking without being allowed to, and defiance? Raise your wand if your answer is « yes ».’

  Freya had lowered her head. She didn’t want to look anymore.

  This is fucked up. This is fucked up, she repeated herself, defeated.

  ‘Very well. Is the defendant guilty of fraud by forging official Ministry documents and falsely accusing members of the Ministry? Raise your wand if the answer is « yes ».’

  A very long few seconds passed. Freya waited silently for the verdict.

  ‘Freya Hestia Toscani.’, the old wizard called. She slowly raised her head towards him, ‘You are found guilty of all the aforementioned accounts by the members of the Wizenmagot by absolute majority...’

  Fuck you.

  ‘...Therefore, I condemn you to a firm sentence of reclusion to the Prison of Azkaban for a duration of twelve months. Irrepressible. You will also lose the right to possess and use your wand for the next six months following the end of your reclusion.’.

  With imploring eyes, Freya looked at the old wizard. He grabbed his gravel and raised it in the air. She knew that once it would slam the desk, her fate would be sealed.       

  No one would come to her help now. She couldn’t even defend herself, they didn’t want her to defend herself. It was all a trap, she knew it. She was a problem, she was a danger to their world and had to be neutralized. But why? Was this the society her grandmother was a part of? Had she really worked for those people? Had she unfairly treated and condemned people like they just did? Her parents, her friends, no one would know where she went…

  Freya closed her eyes, waiting for the dreaded sound.

  Bang !

  Freya opened her eyes and quickly turned her head. In the dark corridor she had entered from, a set of footsteps were approaching quickly. A feminine voice broke the silence.

Chapter Text

  ‘Stop this trial ! Stop it immediately !’, the voice exclaimed, quickly followed by its owner. A tall, brown-haired woman appeared in the amphitheater, visibly upset. ‘What’s all that about ?! Magnus ?!’, she shouted at the Chief Warlock who was still holding his gravel aloft.

  ‘M-Madam Minister, I-I…’, he stuttered, waving his hand in Freya’s direction, ‘This person has been caught smuggling muggle technology, and we - ‘

  ‘How long has this been going on ?! Have you been holding trials like this without my knowledge ?!’, she yelled.

  The old wizard remained silent, his lower lip trembling in search of any kind of justification, to no avail. No other member of the assembly came to his rescue. The Minister turned towards Freya, her intelligent eyes taking a worried expression.

  ‘Are you Freya Toscani?’, she asked in a much softer voice. Still firmly tied to the chair, Freya nodded yes. In a gracious wand swish, the Minister freed her from her ropes. ‘You can leave, I’ll meet you outside.’, she said, gently holding her arm to help her get up. Freya couldn’t believe what was happening. Her mouth agape and her eyes wide, she kept staring at her rescuer without being able to form a single coherent word. Seeing Freya’s visible distress, the Minister comfortingly put her hand on her arm. ‘You’re alright, now. You’re coming with me. Nephelia’s waiting for you, go now.’, she added, gently tapping her back.

  Hearing that name was enough for Freya to snap out of her stupefaction. Without looking behind her, she ran through the bleachers and passed the open door, only to find Nephelia Igwe standing on the other side with a beaming smile. Freya stopped, resisting a great urge to fall on her neck, but Nephelia opened her arms and embraced her tightly.

  ‘Oh, Miss Toscani !’, she exclaimed, ‘I am so, so sorry! Are you okay ?’

  Freya didn’t expect to feel such an intense relief and happiness to see her. She whispered frantically as an uncontrollable flow of words came out of her mouth. She wanted Igwe to know everything, how she was about to be sent to Azkaban, how nobody listened to her, nobody believed her, it was horrible, and they had taken her cellphone and her wand!

  ‘I know, I know, here, take it.’, Igwe said, taking Freya’s cellphone out of her pocket and handing it to her with a kind smile.

  ‘Oh, thank you so much !’, Freya cried in relief. ‘How did you -‘

  ‘I’ll explain everything, but you need to calm down first, okay? You’re safe now. As soon as I arrived here and learned that you had been taken, I ran to tell the Minister. She wasn’t aware any of this was happening. She was furious, let me tell you.’

  ‘How was she not aware of this ?’, Freya asked, suddenly upset.

  ‘She doesn’t know herself. As unpleasant as it may have been for you, you may have helped uncover something very wrong going on within the Ministry. If we find out that this has happened before, it could seriously shake the government to its core.’, Igwe replied in a low voice.

  ‘What are you talking about ?’

  ‘I can’t tell you more for now, this needs to be figured out. But tell me, what happened ?’

  Freya squinted to recollect her, to say the least, catastrophic arrival at the Ministry.

  ‘I was framed.’, she replied after a pause.

  ‘Framed? By who ?’, Igwe replied, distraught.

  ‘Elfia Campbell. She said I was a mole to the M.L.E.P agent, and in front of everyone.’

  ‘What ?’, Igwe seemed genuinely stunned, ‘No, she wouldn’t do such a thing.’

  ‘Please, don’t tell me you don’t believe me either !’, Freya implored. ‘Not you !’

  Freya realized Nephelia Igwe was the only person she had been able to fully trust since all of this started. The only one who showed her genuine care and sympathy. Her only guide in this world she didn’t know. If she too was to dismiss her words, then she’d want nothing to do with magic people anymore. She’d go home and never look back.

  ‘Alright.’, Igwe finally replied, ‘I find it really hard to believe, but I promise I’ll list-‘

  She was interrupted by the slam of a heavy door. They both turned to look at the Minister, readjusting her hair and her blouse, a furious frown still imprinted between her eyebrows.

  ‘Thank you for waiting for me.’, she let out, reaching for the pocket of her petrol-blue pants, ’Before we go, I think this belongs to you.’

  ‘My wand! Thank you Miss -’

  ‘Granger. Hermione Granger. Don’t thank me, we had no right to take it away from you in the first place.’, she replied bluntly, already far ahead in the corridor, walking with long and quick strides, ‘Follow me.’, she added.

  Freya and Igwe ran behind her.

***

  ‘Have a seat, Miss Toscani, please.’, Hermione Granger said while serving a plate of biscuits and chocolate on the coffee table.

  Freya flopped in the massive Chesterfield sofa in front of the Minister.

  After another unpleasant ride in one of the Ministry’s fireplaces, Freya had finally arrived in the Minister’s office. It was sumptuous. On each wall were standing tall wooden bookcases filled with hundreds of books of all sizes and shapes, on some of them sometimes escaped the shelves to fly around the room. Above the intricately ornate fireplace sat the large portrait of an old man. Although her vision was a bit foggy from the exhaustion, she noticed he was moving, and intensely looking at her above his half-moon glasses, a faint smile on his lips.

  ‘Here, eat. You’ll feel better.’, Igwe said, handing Freya a piece of chocolate. As she let it melt on her tongue, she felt her mind and body relax. She then noticed an unexpected shape on the desk, behind the sofa.

  A cat ?!

  A grey tabby cat was, indeed, sitting calmly on the edge of the desk, its tail hanging and swaying gently, and its wide and intensely green eyes locked on her.

  ‘Words aren’t enough to describe how sorry I am for what you had to endure, Miss Toscani.’, the Minister said after she had sat on the opposite sofa, ‘ It’s -‘. She interrupted herself, a somber shadow passing in her eyes. ‘It’s absolutely outrageous.’ Freya remained silent. Better not say anything and listen. Hermione Granger continued. ‘You probably don’t know this, but the Wizarding World has been under a grave menace during the last decade. One, perhaps, greater than all previous ones. And in times of grave menace come extensive means to destroy it. Do you know what the Calamity is, Miss Toscani ?’

  ‘I think I heard about it when I was being interrogated by the M.L.E.P. agent. I believe it has something to do with the Wizarding Secrecy, is that right ?’ The Minister slowly nodded yes. Freya scrutinized her face, waiting for an explanation. Hermione Granger seemed deeply dejected. The angry frown that had not left her eyebrows since the trial had taken a sad and worried hint. ‘Why does it exist ? Why do witches and wizards hide from muggles ?, Freya asked, ‘I don’t understand, I think people - I mean, muggles - would be stoked to know that magic actually does exist. We write books and make movies about it all the time! We love this! What difference would it make ?’, she continued, trying to take a light and joyful tone.

  Nobody in the room gave her her smile back.

  ‘A terrible difference is what it would make. And even though we would think mentalities have evolved since the Middle Ages, we have reached the painful conclusion that they unfortunately have not. The Calamity has done nothing but confirm that. This is why the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy is so important. It is vital for us. And for muggles too, actually.’, Granger said gravely.

  ‘Vital ?’, Freya asked, perplexed.

  ‘Yes, vital.’, the Minister replied, staring directly into Freya’s eyes, ‘We’ll talk about this later if you don’t mind, Miss Toscani.’, she said standing up, as if she had suddenly snapped out of her despondency, ‘We have more urgent things to sort out right now. I have been incredibly rude and did not introduce you.’

  She walked up to her desk, and came standing next to the cat, opening her arms towards it.

  ‘This is Professor Minerva McGonagall, she is the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Britain’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.’

  Before Freya even had the time to question anything, the cat jumped forward and in a flash, turned into a tall and stern woman, her white hair tucked under a large pointy hat and her thin silhouette dressed in a perfectly fitted emerald green robe.

  Flabbergasted, Freya curled up on herself, letting out a strangled gasp.

  The cat-witch was an elder woman, but her stately demeanor and her sharp gaze gave her a hint of superior authority and extraordinary liveliness. Freya recoiled lightly as she approached her.

  ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Toscani.’, the witch said with an unexpectedly mellow voice and a thick Scottish accent, ‘You may not be aware of this, but I knew your grandmother, Hestia Blake, very well. We met in school and had remained very good friends since. Her disappearance truly is a heartache. She was admirable in every way.’ Freya remained in a stunned silence. ‘She talked a lot about you. All the time, in fact. She even invited me once to visit you, when you were just a baby. She loved you dearly.’, the professor added with a soft smile.

  Freya didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry, nor if any of this was real. She couldn’t believe her heart was still beating after the intense turmoils of emotions she had been through in just a few hours. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out of it.

  ‘I’m - It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Professor.’, she finally managed to articulate after a long silence.

  ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been brought here.’, McGonagall said in a blunt tone that much better suited her appearance.

  ‘Well… I understand that my case is rather unusual. If you want to interrogate me, I’m ready to answer all your questions. Though I’m not sure what I have to say would help you much. I don’t know what’s going on.’, Freya replied in an empty voice.

  ‘Oh no, we don’t need to interrogate you. Besides, I think you’ve had your fair share of interrogating for a lifetime.’, the Minister said sympathetically, ‘There are a few things we need to tell you. And a proposition to make.’ Freya sat up, alert. The Minister looked around, as if she were searching for her words, and cleared her throat.

  ‘As you may have understood, magic is a powerful ability that needs to be mastered and wielded in very specific ways. And in order to do that, you need to get an education. This is why Professor McGonagall is here today. She has agreed to enroll you as a special student in Hogwarts. For a year first, so that you’ll learn all the basics, and more if you wish to further refine your knowledge. You will learn how to use your wand and develop your abilities in a wonderful environment, with competent teachers and the best equipment you could ask for. What do you think ?’

  Freya hesitated. She was burning to learn more, of course, but all of this seemed to take a way too serious a turn for her. There were still too many unanswered questions.

  ‘I want to know what’s happening.’, she said bluntly, clutching her dress, ‘I have been forced to remain silent and patient for a whole week about something that’s having massive consequences on my life right now. You can't expect me to agree to things I know nothing about, can you?  I was promised answers. I want them. Please.’

  Nephelia Igwe turned away from her.

  ‘What do you want to know ?’, the Minister asked.

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘Everything ?’, she repeated, confused.

  ‘Yes. Why do I suddenly have magical abilities, when I had no damn clue any of this existed before? Why am I being harassed by a man who wants my wand? Why have I been treated so unfairly by your colleagues? I don’t know, is any of this real? Nobody has asked for my opinion on anything, and I am being thrown into what feels like a lion’s den. I’m being asked to comply with things I know nothing about! And also, I come to discover that my grandmother, who I always thought was a middle school teacher, is actually a witch and everyone here knows her. Hell, what does being a witch even mean?! And what happened to you Miss Igwe, why didn’t you follow us in the chimney? And now, you want to send me to a school to learn magic? What if I don’t want to use magic? What if I just want to live my life and grieve my grandmother in peace ?! I never asked for any of this!’

  She had spurted her tirade in almost one breath, throwing up all her bottled-up feelings and frustrations in one liberating wave. Going off in this manner was very much unusual for her, but so was having to keep her emotions to herself. The weight of those events was just too heavy for her hypersensitive temper to take, and she had no intention of sparing anyone’s sensitivity on this matter.

  After a long silence, Freya raised her eyes to look at the three women around her.

  Freya expected them to be outraged by her outburst, but they all stood there, still, and none of them showed anger. All of them had the same expression. Compassion. It was compassion. They understood her.

  ‘You have every right to be upset, Miss Toscani. And to be given answers.’, the Minister said gravely. Freya stared at her, hopeful, ‘Unfortunately…’

  Freya frowned and shook her head.

  ‘No. No, no. You can’t.’, she said, feeling the pit in her stomach growing again.

  The Minister looked away and sighed.

  ‘The truth is we don’t have any real answer to give you at the moment. We do not have enough tangible elements to explain the situation clearly, and it would be counterproductive to throw unfounded hypotheses at you. It would all become even more confusing for you in the end. But what we do know, however, is that you are in danger.’, she said. The intensity in her eyes did not lie, ‘The only places that can provide you with the security that you need are your home and Hogwarts. This is why it is important, if not obligatory, for you to go. To be protected, and to learn how to defend yourself.’

  ‘What do I have to defend myself from ?’, Freya asked, irritated.

  ‘The Breachers.’, Igwe said, ‘A terrorist organization that started the Calamity, almost fifteen years ago. Their goal is to spark a war between the magical and non-magical people. They’ve already made a lot of victims. And you have something they want.’

  ‘My wand?’

  ‘It appears so.’

  Freya thought for a minute, she was starting to connect the dots.

  ‘Is Tobias with them?’, she asked.

  ‘Yes. It was unclear until a few months ago, but we have proof of his affiliation to them now. ’, Igwe said gravely.

  Freya stood up and paced around the room. The three witches watched her in silence.

  ‘And when were you going to tell me that?’, she asked.

  ‘This isn’t how we had planned to-‘ Igwe started.

  ‘Oh! Did you plan for me not to ask questions?', Freya interjected, 'Did you really expect me to go along without saying anything? Do you think I’m stupid?’

  ‘No, not at all!’, Igwe exclaimed.

  ‘This is your war, not mine. Why should I get involved?’, Freya asked coldly.

  ‘It will become everyone’s war soon enough if we let them get to you.’, Minerva McGonagall interjected.

  ‘How do you know that? What do I have to do in all of this? If my wand is what they want, maybe you can keep it. It’ll probably be safer here than with me !’

  ‘It’s not only about the wand, Miss Toscani. It’s about you too. It appears that Hestia Blake knew what she was doing when she elected you as the only heir of her house. It seems like she knew something would happen when you’d discover her wand, and she made sure you would. She would have never let you live in this house after her disappearance if there was nothing to be expected of you in terms of magical abilities. She would have surrendered it to the Magical Government for it to be destroyed, and all magical clusters to be erased. She would have never given you this wand. Her wand. There is something special about you, and she was aware of it.’, the Professor said.

  Freya buried her face in her hands, feeling like the earth had just opened under her feet.

  ‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’, she said in a strangled voice.

  A heavy silence fell in the room. Hermione Granger was the first to break it.

  ‘You do, actually. You can refuse. But this choice will have consequences too.’

  ‘Consequences ?’

  Hermione Granger took a deep breath and crossed her arms on her chest.

  ‘We’d have to erase you. Permanently.’

  Freya turned to look at her, a furious look on her face.

  ‘Erase me? What do you mean?’

  ‘In order to protect your life and the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, we’d have to erase your mind completely, take your wand, keep you locked in a secret place, and—’ She interrupted herself and looked away.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And erase you from all your relatives’ memories. As if you… Never existed.’

  Freya recoiled in shock. Nothing felt real anymore. The room started spinning around her and she had to lean on the back of the sofa not to collapse. Nephelia Igwe immediately stood up to hold her. With each breath, her throat tightened and waves of anxiety, coming from deep within her abdomen, were starting to take over her chest, her head, her limbs. Huffing, puffing, shaking, and sweating, she used the small amount of air she could inhale to scream at the Minister.

  ‘You’re calling that a fucking choice?! Erasing me from existence if I refuse to do as you say?! You might as well kill me on the spot, it would make no difference!’

   All she heard next was a muffled choir of voices, and felt hands pressing on her arms and waist before her vision darkened.

  I want to go Home… I want to go Home…

Chapter Text

  ‘We’re going to take you home, Miss Toscani.’, Nephelia Igwe said, one hand on Freya’s shoulder.

  Freya nodded and smiled kindly at her.

  ‘Potter is not available at this time.’, said Professor McGonagall as she was reading a note, ‘His youngest is in St Mungo’s. Broom injury. I’ll send an owl to Hawthorne.’

  ‘Of course, a broom injury.’, Hermione Granger chuckled, ‘I heard students and parents are absolutely delighted with Hawthorne.’, she added, handing Freya a sealed envelope.

  ‘They are. And so am I. I couldn’t have hoped for a better fit for the Transfiguration course. And such a wonderful temper he’s got. Potter told me he had way too much on his hands with both his Hogwarts and Ministry’s responsibilities, he suggested Hawthorne would be a perfect candidate to replace him as Deputy Headmaster. I am very much considering it.’

  ‘You know him well, Nephelia, don’t you ?’, Granger asked.

  ‘Oh yes, we were sorted the same year. Not in the same house, but we became very good friends after our first Herbology class. He was always at the top of his promotion and always ready to help. He’s the reason why Hufflepuff won the House Cup four years in a row.’, she said, a faint bitter rictus on her face.

  ‘What year were you sorted again ?’

  ‘2001. An excellent vintage for the house of Ravenclaw.’, Nephelia replied, sitting up with pride.

  ‘Ah ! By Merlin !’, McGonagall interjected while writing quickly on a piece of paper, ‘Your name was never off Flitwick’s lips ! I couldn’t count the number of times he followed me around, taunting me about how the new ‘Greatest Witch of her Time’ was in his house now.’

  Igwe and Granger laughed joyfully.

  This light chattering continued as Ebenezer, the magnificent grey owl Freya had seen on her windowsill a few hours prior, took off through the window with a new message attached to his leg.  She listened closely to everything that was being said, and was much more appeased now.

  After she had lost consciousness, the three witches had laid her on the sofa and given her an unknown potion that helped her calm her nerves, along with half a dozen chocolate frogs. The conversation between the four of them lasted several hours, and an agreement had been found. This agreement held in the envelope Freya had just slipped inside her bag, and only waited for her signature. She was given the next 48 hours to think about the decision that would change her life definitively. Fortunately, the weight of this decision had been alleviated by the extraordinary kindliness and promise of trustworthiness she had been shown by all of them. Many grey areas remained in this whole ordeal, but she was sure of one thing now : she would not be alone in this.

  ‘Tobias Gaunt is in Azkaban.', the Minister announced, turning to Freya, 'You don’t have to worry about him for the time being. However, we cannot be sure he hasn’t sent some of his accomplices after you. We need to make sure you’ll make it home safely. Your grandmother has put a charm on your house. No witch or wizard can come in without being invited in first. Once you’re inside your home, you’re perfectly safe. If you don’t accidentally invite someone in, of course. Two people will be better than one to protect you tonight, in case something goes wrong. Nephelia will be in charge of your protection until you enter Hogwarts. If, of course, you chose to enter Hogwarts.’

  Freya looked at Igwe, who replied with a bright smile.

  Ebenezer flew through the window again and landed on Granger’s desk, scattering papers everywhere.

  ‘Blimey! Ebenezer! I already told you not to land here !’, the Minister protested.

  Professor McGonagall untied the small scroll attached to the bird’s leg and opened it.

  ‘Hawthorne is coming. He’s waiting for your chimney’s access, Granger.’, she announced.

  Hermione Granger stood up and passed her hand over a glass semi-sphere mounted on the mantelpiece. Instantly, the soft orange flames turned green. A few seconds later, a whirlwind rose and a silhouette appeared in the fireplace.

  Freya sat as she watched a tall wizard step out of the chimney, dusting his clothes and hair off of green residue.

  ‘It needs a little sweeping, I must admit.’, the Minister said, welcoming the wizard with a kindly smile.

  ‘Hello, Madam Minister.’, he replied with a low and warm voice, smiling back at her, ‘Professor.’, he added, bowing slightly at the Headmistress. He turned his head toward Igwe and his smile widened. ‘Ah ! Igwe !’

  ‘Always a pleasure to see you, Hawthorne.’, Nephelia Igwe said, standing up.

  ‘Likewise.’, he replied, showing a row of white and perfectly aligned teeth. By the puckish smiles they exchanged, Freya could tell their apparent formality was nothing but a professional facade.

  He then turned toward Freya, who had followed the movement and stood up as well. They stared at each other for a second, during which she noticed his incredible ice-blue eyes. She extended her arm toward him and offered him her open hand.

  ‘I’m Freya, er, F-Freya Toscani.’, she stammered.

  ‘Cyrus Hawthorne.’, the wizard replied, shaking her hand softly. He quickly looked her up and down and seemed to blush slightly, while an uncomfortable silence settled in the room. He let go of her hand and joined his in front of his chest, ‘So you’re the, er…’

  ‘She’s the special student, yes.’, McGonagall interjected, ‘She will follow classes with the sixth and seventh years, and she will have additional assignments given by you and the rest of the team to catch up on the basics.' She abruptly turned to Freya, 'Hawthorne is your future Transfiguration teacher, by the way, Miss Toscani.' 

  'Ah.', Freya let out. She had no idea what Transfiguration was, and she nodded and smiled politely.

  'But for now, she needs to be taken to her home safely’, McGonagall said authoritatively, turning back to Hawthorne.

  ‘Absolutely.’, Hawthorne said, regaining his smile.

  ‘Your home chimney has been cut off the Floo Network after your grandmother’s passing. We’ll have to take the long route, through the Ole Cooking Pot.’, Igwe said.

  Freya agreed with a nod. The Minister approached her and put her hand on her arm.

  ‘Once again, I apologize, on behalf of the magical people, for everything you’ve had to endure in the last few days. Your reactions were perfectly valid, and we should have handled things differently. Thank you for your patience and your reliability.’

  Freya was touched by her gesture, and her face lightened with a grateful smile.

  ‘Thank you for your support. All of you. I’ll give you my answer very soon.’

  She bid farewell to Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall with a respectful bow while Igwe stepped first into the fireplace.

  ‘You’re second, and Hawthorne will be behind you.’, she proclaimed right before disappearing in a green blaze.

***

  The sky was already darkening when they stepped out of the Ole Cooking Pot and found themselves in the crowded pedestrian street. Freya felt strangely disconnected after this brutal comeback to reality, as if she had just been released back on Earth after being abducted by aliens.

  Igwe and Hawthorne were chatting vividly while they walked back to the crossroad where Freya had left her bike. This did not distract them from their duty however, as Freya could see them meticulously and discreetly scan their surroundings. She distractedly listened to them recounting various memories and events, but couldn’t help but glance at Cyrus Hawthorne as he walked next to her. She looked at his outfit, casual and yet, quite elegant. His marine shirt was carelessly tucked in dark green darted trousers, which matched perfectly with his wavy Venetian blond hair. He carried himself with a humble and serene confidence and moved with smooth and relaxed movements. This contrasted greatly with Nephelia Igwe, who gave off a relentless fast-paced energy. She talked, walked, and moved quickly, which was difficult to keep up with for Freya's calmer-paced nature, but the witch had an extraordinary wit and cleverness that Freya found admirable.

  She looked back at Hawthorne as he laughed at one of Igwe’s jokes, but his eyes never crossed hers and kept scoping the street around him. He was holding a curious rectangular object in his hand that greatly resembled a smartphone, and he regularly interrupted his scoping to peek inside. Freya tried to take a closer look, but the object only showed a dark and nebulous surface with no discernible reflection.

  Finally, they arrived at the fence. Freya abruptly stopped in her tracks, which alerted her companions.

  ‘What is it?’, Igwe asked, wary, ‘Have you seen someone ?’

  ‘Er… No. It’s just— I just realized I only have my bike right there… We can’t walk home, it would be way too long. Let me call a cab.’, she said, suddenly agitated.

  Igwe and Hawthorne sighed in relief and chuckled.

  ‘Oh, Miss Toscani! I don’t think we’ll need a cab!’, Igwe laughed, ‘Surely, Professor Hawthorne has a solution for this.’, she added, turning to the wizard.

  ‘Maybe.’, he replied playfully while shoving his hand in one of his pockets. He looked around and asked them to follow him near a narrow and empty alleyway.

  ‘Cover me.’, he said as he disappeared between the buildings. Freya and Nephelia Igwe stood at the alleyway's entrance, hiding Hawthorne.

  ‘What is he doing ?’, Freya whispered toward Igwe.

  ‘Transfiguration.’

  Before Freya had the time to ask another question, she heard a faint Swish ! coming from behind them. Two seconds later, Cyrus Hawthorne joined them on the street, holding one bike in each hand. Freya was gobsmacked.

  ‘Did you just —‘

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll learn how to do that very soon.’, Hawthorne said with a timid glance and smile.

***

  As they were reaching the turn to Birdbush Road, Freya was explaining to her companions the purpose of restoring cultural objects, like books, paintings, or monuments, in a world where no magic existed to repair them with a wave of a wand. She had come to the bitter conclusion that her craftsmanship, acquired after seven hard years of studies and the last three years as a professional, would be fairly useless after she had learned to wield magic.

  ‘I guess I’ll have to find another job.’, she said sarcastically.

  They turned to their right, but Cyrus Hawthorne, who was slightly ahead of them, stopped abruptly and gestured for them to stop as well.

  ‘Your house is the second on the right, correct ?’, he asked Freya, almost whispering.

  ‘Yes, why ?’

  ‘Someone is standing next to it. Are you expecting company ?’

  ‘No.’, Freya replied, leaning forward on her bike, trying to see the street behind Hawthorne.   

  The road was silent and empty, except for a black human silhouette that seemed to be trying to look over the hedge. Her heartbeat fastened. The silhouette was too far for her to recognize it.

   Igwe and Hawthorne got off their bikes and dropped them on the side of the road. Both of them held one hand above the pocket containing their wands, ready to draw. With one gesture, Igwe ordered Freya to walk right behind her. They approached the house slowly, silently, until the silhouette abruptly pushed the front gate handle and disappeared into the driveway. They accelerated their pace until they reached the front of the house. Someone was trying to force the lock on the front door.

  ‘Hey !’, Igwe yelled.

  The silhouette turned to look at them as Nephelia Igwe swooped on it, wand out, and let out a scream.

  Freya’s heart skipped a beat.

  ‘Stop! Stop it! I know her!’, she yelled from behind Hawthorne who was blocking her with his arm.

  Held against the door by Igwe, with her arm behind her back and a wand pointed at her, a young woman shouted back.

  ‘Frey! What the fuck is happening ?! Let me go you bitch!’

  Puzzled, Igwe unclenched her hold. Freya passed under Hawthorne's arm and climbed the porch stairs to join them.

  ‘Nina! Oh my god !’

  ‘The fuck’s the matter with you?!’, Nina yelled at Igwe, flailing her arms around.

  ‘Miss Toscani, who is this?’, Hawthorne asked.

  ‘This is my best friend, Nina Harker! She’s the trusted person I mentioned in the agreement!’, she replied, turning to Igwe.

  ‘The trusted person? Why were you forcing her door, then ?’, Igwe asked Nina in a very accusatory tone, still grabbing at her clothes.

  ‘Who are you talking to like that? I have a spare key, you twat!’, Nina spat while picking up the bunch of keys that had fallen on the ground and putting it Igwe’s face.

  ‘Who are you talking to like that ?! Watch your tone, you foul cockroach!’

  Freya put herself between the two women, who were both significantly taller than her and now screaming at each other, before things turned violent.

  ‘Hey, hey! Calm down, both of you!’

  ‘She’s the one who attacked me, are you kid—‘

  ‘Shhh! Nina, Nina. I love you, but shut up for a second. Please. Trust me. Thank you.’, Freya said hastily, hugging her friend, ‘Let’s all go inside.’

  She grabbed the keys from Nina’s hands, unlocked the front door, and pulled her inside with her. The two wizards stayed on the doormat.

  ‘We can’t come if you don’t invite us in, remember ?’, Igwe said, a defeated look on her face.

  Nina scoffed.

  ‘Are these your new friends?’, she asked Freya, pointing at them with her thumb, ‘Vampires or some shit?’, she added, laughing mockingly.

  ‘Nin. Stop.’ Freya said, gently pushing Nina into the living room, ’Please, come in.’

  The two wizards stepped into the hallway and joined Freya and her friend in the living room. They looked around and stood awkwardly, waiting.

  ‘What are you doing here, Nin?’, Freya asked, confused.

  ‘I was waiting for you, silly! Two hours I’ve been sitting on that damned sidewalk. I was so worried, I called your Mum and she said she couldn’t reach you either, everyone’s upset. Didn’t you look at your phone?’, Nina exclaimed, visibly upset.

  ‘No, I didn’t… Ugh! Oh my god…’, Freya exclaimed as she scrolled through the dozens of missed calls from her best friend and both her parents.

  ‘After our call this morning, I really felt something was wrong. And you wouldn’t say shit! I thought maybe you had been involved in murder, or that you were in danger and were too scared to talk. So I jumped on the first train after my shift to come here, and what do I find ? Closed door? No one inside? Nobody answering the phone? And I waited for two hours! Five more minutes and I would have called the police. Then I remembered I had a spare key and tried to get inside, in case you were hurt or something. You scared the shit out of me, my god! Don’t you ever do that to me again, Frey. I could already see you dead in a ditch. Fuck me… And who are these people?!’

  ‘I’m Cyrus Hawthorne, and this is Nephelia Igwe.’, Hawthorne said calmly, putting himself before Nephelia Igwe who was still visibly worked up.

  ‘Okay ?’, Nina replied, shrugging, ‘Why did you attack me ?’

  ‘It was a mistake. Our sincerest apologies, Miss Harker. Our mission is to protect Miss Toscani, and we thought you were an intruder.’, he replied in an appeasing tone.

  Nina turned to Freya, confused.

  ‘Protect you against what, Frey? What’s happening ?’

  Freya inhaled and exhaled deeply, and turned to the two wizards. It was too late to go back now, and everything needed to be explained, again. This was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

   The night had fallen for a few hours when the group found themselves gathered around the coffee table, drinking tea and eating Nina’s homemade biscuits. Freya had retold the entire story, from when she found the wand, to the agreement made with the Ministry and how they ended up here. She had certainly not forgotten to mention Tobias, and how her house had suddenly come to life to attack him. This sparked great admiration from Igwe and Hawthorne, who marveled at Hestia Blake’s mastery of protection and defensive enchantments. She noticed that Hawthorne had frowned and leaned toward Igwe when she mentioned Tobias. He had whispered something and Igwe had nodded very fast, and he had sat back in his chair, a grave look on his face. Nina had listened quietly, way too stunned to say anything.

  There were no words to describe the immense relief Freya felt sharing all this with her best friend, the first person she had wanted to call since it all started. The person whose support she needed the most and had been deprived of for seven days, and it was seven days too many.

  Freya had taken the sealed envelope Hermione Granger had given her out of her bag and placed it in front of her. Igwe took it upon herself to explain its content and stakes to Nina.

  ‘So you’re telling me…’, Nina said with her mouth full, ‘That if I refuse to partake in the Unbreakable Vow, Freya and I will disappear from each other’s memory forever.’ Everyone nodded. She continued, ‘And if I do partake in it but somehow spill the tea to a non-magical person, I will disappear from all my relatives’ memories and live on knowing they won’t know who I am anymore.’ Everyone nodded again, ‘Well, shit. You guys are brutal !’

  ‘We don’t have any other choice for now, unfortunately’, Nephelia said gravely, ‘As a Muggle, you’re not supposed to know the Wizarding World exists, but we’ve agreed to make an exception for you. Only if you can take the Unbreakable Vow. You should consider yourself lucky, this is an altered version of the pact. Usually, breaking the vow results in immediate death. ’

  Nina raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Don’t know which one is worse, to be honest. That’s not a proposition.’, she replied bluntly, ‘That’s a fucking knife under the throat.’

  ‘It is.’, Freya interjected, biting her nails nervously.

  This is worse than death.

  The two wizards looked at each other, visibly embarrassed. Cyrus Hawthorne cleared his throat, backed away from the coffee table, and stared at his feet.

  During the whole conversation, Freya had peaked regularly at him, but he rarely looked in her direction. His expression had changed dramatically since his arrival in the Minister’s office. From beaming and open, his face had become inscrutable and worried. An anxious frown had appeared between his eyebrows from the moment they had stepped into the house, and he had remained mostly silent since then. He seemed extremely uncomfortable.

  ‘So, what’s your answer ?’, Nephelia Igwe said, leaning forward.

  The expression that appeared on Nina’s face betrayed what she thought of that question, namely that it was perfectly stupid. But she kept it to herself and turned to Freya.

  ‘Do you trust me enough to keep this secret ?’, she asked softly.

  Freya looked at her intensely, opening her mouth to formulate an answer, but something switched inside of her. Suddenly, another wave of corrosive anxiousness overwhelmed her. Only at this moment, was she understanding the breadth of the risks at stake. In a split second, she realized what she had done, putting her brief relief to a brutal end. She was putting her best friend’s life on the line, and she hadn’t given her a choice. She had negotiated this agreement for her own selfishness, to transfer the burden of this secret to someone else. And it was too late to go back now.

  ‘No. Wait.’, Freya said suddenly. Nina frowned, confused. ‘There must be another way.’, She turned to the two wizards with imploring eyes, ‘There must be another solution. I didn’t have a choice, but she should! That’s not fair !’

  Cyrus Hawthorne looked away and covered his mouth with his hand.

  ‘I’m afraid there is no other option for now, Miss Toscani.’, Igwe replied in a firm tone, ‘This is the only way for us to make sure she will not break the oath ! Just us being here in front of Miss Harker is a violation of the Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, if it wasn’t for the Minister allowing her to be your trusted person! She’s doing you a favor!’

  ‘I want to change the contract.’, Freya said bluntly. ‘This is my responsibility, she should not have to put her life on the line for this. If she breaks her oath, I will take the punishment.’

  ‘And make me carry the responsibility of erasing your existence ?’, Nina interjected, ‘Frey, this is not solving the problem, the outcome will be the same. One of us will disappear. I would have said yes, even if I had a choice. The real question is : do you trust me ?’

  ‘Of course I do, but—‘

  ‘There is no buts !’

  ‘But this is not a simple secret, Nina! It’s… It’s—‘

  ‘I trust you with my life, you trust me with yours. That’s all we need. Shit, even if you killed somebody, I’d help you hide the body and go to Hell and back before even slipping up. You would have done the same if roles were swapped, right ?’ Freya stared at her in stunned silence, ’Right?’, Nina insisted, her mahogany eyes fixed on hers.

  ‘Yes.’ Freya’s voice had almost disappeared, trapped by a scream she was desperately trying to push back inside her throat.

  ‘There’s no debate, then. You needed me, and here I am. I’m signing this. It’s too late, anyways. And think about your grandmother! She didn’t do all this for nothing.’

  With sharp and quick moves, Nina grabbed the envelope, unsealed it, and took the agreement out of it. She unfolded it, read it quickly, and laid it flat on the table.

  ‘A pen.’, she ordered, shaking her open hand and looking around her. Nephelia Igwe swayed her wand, and a quill appeared at its tip, floating in the air. Nina, seemingly oblivious to the magic that had just been operated in front of her, grabbed it, scribbled two wide initials on the document, and crossed them with a straight and aggressive line. When the tip of the quill left the parchment paper’s surface, the ink lit up like minuscule lava flows and burned itself into the fibers. Freya watched as two streams of tears rolled down her cheeks. Everyone turned toward her and Nina handed her the quill.

  ‘There. Your turn, Frey.’, she said imperatively before her expression softened suddenly. ‘How do you still have tears left ?’, she added, as she affectionately wiped her friend’s wet face with her hand.

  Freya only replied with a congested sniff. She slowly took the quill out of Nina’s hand and raised her gaze to look at the two wizards. Cyrus Hawthorne was looking at her this time, a profoundly compassionate expression on his angelic face. He pinched his lips, seemingly holding back reassuring words. But his blue eyes, rendered almost green by the warm yellow light, spoke for him. Freya felt his intention and welcomed it, feeling a soft warmth in her chest. She then looked at Nephelia Igwe. Her yellow gaze was firmer but seemed to encourage her. She turned back to Nina.

  ‘Thank you, Nin.’, she said, a painful wobble in her voice.

  Nina leaned closer and rested her forehead on hers.

  ‘That’s what I’m here for.’ She smiled gently, and put her finger in the parchment, ‘Now, you’re gonna sign this fucking paper, and learn how to turn Tobias into a fat turd so that I can personally flush him down the toilet.’

  Freya burst out laughing through her tears.

  ‘It’s your turn to sign the agreement, Miss Toscani.’ Igwe said gravely.

  Freya pinched her lips irritably. She leaned on the coffee table and scribbled her signature next to Nina’s. When the ink was burned, the paper rose in the air, folded itself into a roll, and disappeared in a small explosion, which made Freya and Nina jump lightly. The room fell silent. Freya exhaled deeply. Nina grabbed Freya's shoulders and pulled her toward her.

  It was done. They were tied together by a bond stronger than it had ever been, stronger and bigger even than themselves. Freya wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and buried her face in her cascade of dark brown curls.

  ‘Everything’s going to be alright, Frey. I promise.’, Nina whispered in her ear. Freya held her even tighter.

  ‘Have you met Tobias Gaunt, Miss Harker?’, Igwe asked suddenly, interrupting their embrace. Surprised by the question, Freya let go of Nina and turned around to look at the witch.

  ‘No, I haven’t had this pleasure. But I’ve heard a lot about him.’, Nina replied calmly.

  ‘Do you know what he looks like?’

  ‘Yes. Why ?’

  ‘Does he know about your bond to Miss Toscani?’

  ‘Oh yes, he does. I believe that’s the reason why he never agreed to meet me. He probably knew he’d get his rat face rearranged if he did.’ Nina let out a snarky chuckle.

  ‘I’m telling you this as a warning. If you ever happen to see him somewhere, or even if he approaches you in any way, do not engage with him. Do not talk to him, do not confront him. If he ever tries to talk to you, just pretend you don’t know him and walk away.’, she turned to Freya, ‘If you see him, just run. Run and find a crowded space where you can be protected.’

  ‘Isn’t he supposed to be in prison?’, Freya replied vividly, confused.

  ‘Yes. For now. But he could be out faster than we think. I will ensure your protection, Miss Toscani, but you, Miss Harker, must stay alert. Do not trust anyone. Do not find yourself isolated with anyone you don’t know already. It’s very unlikely the Breachers know about the agreement, but if they do, they will find ways to get the truth out of you. If you see a wand, run. Tobias Gaunt has a whole team of henchmen around him.’

  ‘How do you know that ?’

  Nephelia Igwe looked down and rubbed her thighs nervously.

  ‘You were almost caught today.’

  Freya’s eyes widened. ’What ?’

  ‘I was held back by one of them at the Ole Cooking Pot. That’s why I couldn’t join you immediately.’, she paused and threw her long braids behind her shoulders, ‘He pretended to be a new M.L.E.P recruit to ask me questions. He physically blocked me from going anywhere. I managed to escape but when I finally arrived at the Ministry, you were already gone. A colleague told me you had been taken for interrogation. I looked for Campbell, but she was nowhere to be found. I didn’t connect the dots until you told me she had reported you. I couldn’t believe it at first, but now I am sure of it. She did frame you. And now she’s disappeared completely.’

  ‘So she’s with them, is that what you’re saying ?’

  ‘Unless it was an unfortunate coincidence, it appears so, yes. She knew that if she exposed your muggle technology you’d have your wand taken away, be trialed, and sent to Azkaban. She took advantage of the new, sloppier methods of some of the Ministry’s agents to carry her plan out. And it almost worked.’

  ‘That would explain a lot of things…’, Freya mumbled.

  Nephelia Igwe remained silent for a moment, arms and legs crossed, staring into the distance. Her inscrutable face betrayed a blend of anger and sadness. Freya observed her closely, trying to read her expression.

  ‘I don’t know how I did not see it. I should have seen it.’, she whispered eventually, almost to herself.

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up, Igwe.', Hawthorne said reassuringly, 'It would be easy to give in to paranoia and start to distrust everyone. Choosing to always have faith in others despite the context is what keeps us together. Besides, there’s a possibility she didn’t act on her own will.’

  Nephelia Igwe acknowledged him with a soft pat on his shoulder and stood up abruptly.

  ‘I think it’s time for us to part ways, Miss Toscani.’, she said. Her tone was flat and prescriptive, which contrasted dramatically with her naturally joyful and energetic nature, ‘Miss Harker, I’m sorry I attacked you earlier. As you might have understood, the situation is quite… Unusual. I hope you can forgive me.’ Nina replied with a quick nod. ‘If you don’t mind…’ Igwe gestured towards the high chimney next to Freya.

   ‘Oh! Yes, of course !’, Freya exclaimed, standing up quickly, making way for them to move toward the fireplace. The witch passed her hand on the front of the ornate mantlepiece, and green flames instantly appeared in the firebox, which brought a surprised swear word out of Nina. Igwe took a small pouch out of her blazer’s inside pocket, shoved her hand inside, and grabbed a handful of greyish powder. She then gave the pouch to Cyrus Hawthorne and put one foot in the fireplace.

  ‘We’ve reconnected it to the Floo Network just for our trip back to London. It will be cut off again after we’re gone. You’ll hear from me very soon for your school year preparations. In the meantime, try to enjoy your weekend, and stay safe, Miss Toscani. Don’t go out alone.’ Igwe had said those last words with an emphatic look toward Nina.

  ‘But what if something happens ? How will you know ?’, Freya asked, suddenly worried at the idea that there would be no way for her to contact her chaperone directly in case of an incident, since wizards didn’t use cellphones and she didn’t know how to summon owls.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll be informed.’ Her expression softened suddenly, and a small smile appeared on her face, ‘You’re well surrounded. Good night, Miss Toscani. Miss Harker.’

  The two friends bid her farewell, and the witch disappeared in the green whirlwind. Nina spat another swear word. They turned toward Cyrus Hawthorne, who was now walking toward the fireplace as well. When he reached it, he stood in front of Freya and offered her his open hand. She took it, but neither of them moved. He hesitated for a moment, seemingly looking for his words.

  ‘All of this must be very hard on you, Miss Toscani.’, he finally said, almost whispering, ‘But you’re being very brave. Or rather, very resilient… And you have an amazing friend.’, he added, glancing at Nina with a smile. Freya smiled back. ‘Professor McGonagall and I will make sure your stay at Hogwarts will be as enjoyable and safe as possible. I’m sure you’ll like it, well… I hope you will.’ He chuckled and his cheeks blushed lightly.

  ‘I’m looking forward to having you — I mean to attend your classes, Professor.’, Freya replied, flustered. His gaze took a worried hint.

  ‘Just a piece of advice.’, he started, ‘Be wary of any food or drinks being offered to you outside of your home and Hogwarts. Especially from Tobias Gaunt. That’s his modus operandi. That’s how he gets to people without having to use his wand.’, he said hastily, tightening his hand lightly around hers. Freya’s heart sank. Words rushed inside her mouth, but no sound came out of it. All she managed to do was to nod positively. ‘Be safe. I’ll see you on September 1st.’, he added with a shy smile. Freya thanked him and their hands only separated when he had fully entered the firebox. She waved him goodbye while he vanished, leaving an empty fireplace and a few green sparks.

Chapter Text

  Breakfast was served in the kitchen. The smell of freshly toasted bread and coffee filled the air, and half a dozen jars of homemade jam of all kinds sat at the center of the kitchen table. The soft rays of morning sunlight pierced through the garden's trees, and filled the room with a warm golden light. The ancient radio on the counter sang muffled melodies while a few bird tweets could be heard from outside.

  ‘Oh there you are ! How was your night, love ?’

  Freya sat at the round wooden table, at her habitual place, facing the glass door. 

  ‘Great ! I slept like a baby !’, she said enthusiastically, grabbing a plate from the cupboard next to her and placing a couple of toasts in it.

  The air was still fresh outside, she could feel it coming from the open window, but the cloudless sky was promising a warm and beautiful day. Freya loved those kinds of slow and cozy spring mornings with her Nana.

  ‘Today is a special day, you know ?’, Hestia Blake said with the soft smile that Freya loved so much.

  The sun rays caught in Hestia’s extraordinarily white and shiny hair formed a luminous halo around her head. Her hazel eyes too were being lit up by the golden light. They were shining, almost glowing behind her round glasses, and accentuated the sharpness of her intelligent gaze. Her robe, of a warm yellow colour and embroidered with golden flowers and leaves on the sleeves and collar, seemed to reflect the sunlight in the whole room. In short, she looked like the sun itself. A picture of her in her young years quickly came back in Freya’s mind. Her Nana used to have red hair. A wild, wavy mass of red hair. Her grandfather always said she looked like she had flames around her head, and had affectionately nicknamed her Firehead throughout their whole marriage.

  ‘Is it ? What’s happening today ?’, Freya replied with her mouth full.

  ‘Oh, you’ll know very soon. I can’t wait to show you !’ Hestia served herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table next to Freya. ‘Actually, I’ve been waiting so long for that day to come. You have no idea how many times I’ve been tempted to show you, but…’

  ‘But what ?’, Freya asked, trying to chew her food faster, ‘This sounds really important, why couldn’t —’ Something suddenly caught her eyes. ‘Hey, I recognize this !’, she exclaimed, pointing at what seemed to have just appeared next to her grandmother’s cup of coffee, ‘That’s your wand !’

  Hestia laughed and took it in her hand.

  ‘Yes, it is ! It has not left me since I was eleven, can you imagine ?’

  ‘I’ve never seen you with it before. Why did you hide it ?’

  ‘Sweetheart, I had to. I had no choice. Until today. As I told you, today is a special day.’

  Freya looked around the kitchen. Something odd was in the air. Everything looked the same, the soft green wooden cupboards with their white Formica countertops, the dated fridge covered in old postcards and drawings —all from Freya —, the copper pots hanging above the equally dated gas stove, the extensive cookbook collection with hundreds of little paper strips popping out of their pages on the shelves, the small TV in the corner, the calendar next to the doorframe, the pictures of her Mum and uncles, but somehow… The calendar.   

  She looked at it, trying to decipher the date on the grid under the picture of tiny kittens playing in the grass, but her vision was too blurry. Numbers and letters were hard to distinguish. She tried counting how many days had been crossed so far, but she kept having to recount, again and again, to no avail. She gave up. Her brain probably needed a bit more time to fully wake up, she thought.

  ‘Am I late for someone’s birthday again ?’, she asked sheepishly, turning back towards her grandmother. Hestia laughed joyfully.

  ‘No, no !’, she chuckled, putting her hand on Freya’s arm, ‘You’re right on time, my sweet love.’

  ‘So it is someone’s birthday !’, Freya exclaimed. ‘Is it Mum’s ?’. She looked down at her plate and thought for a second. ‘No, Mum’s birthday is in September, what am I saying… We’re in August, right ?’

  Freya looked at her grandmother, deeply puzzled to realize she wasn’t even sure what day or month it was. It felt weird, like she had disappeared into an unconscious void and emerged back into the world on a random day.

  ‘No, honey. We are in June. Can’t you see on the calendar ?’, Hestia said softly, pointing in its direction. Freya turned around again to look at it.

  Everything had vanished. The grid and the kittens. Instead, written in large bold letters at the center of the rectangular page, was a date.

JUNE

16

1995

  Freya frowned, incredulous. ‘Nana…’, she whispered.

  It was her own birthday.

  Everything was taking an unsettling turn. The music coming out of the radio was being distorted backward and forward as if someone was playing with it. A mysterious whirlwind rose and the room suddenly got darker. The atmosphere changed completely.

  ‘But we can’t be in 1995, Nana. That’s not possible.’, Freya said, trying not to appear agitated.

  ‘Why wouldn’t it be possible, love ?’, Hestia replied calmly.

  ‘Because that’s the year I was born, Nana.’ she chuckled nervously. Freya couldn’t believe she was arguing about this, ’Nana, are you o—‘.

She couldn’t finish her sentence. She was looking at the fridge again. The postcards and drawings had disappeared. All of them. She looked around. The TV was gone. All the electronics, everything. She looked down and found that the hardwood floor had disappeared too, replaced by a very vintage-looking linoleum. She looked back at her grandmother. She looked younger. A few red strands remained in her whitening mass of hair. Her skin looked fresher and more plump. She wasn’t wearing her yellow robe anymore, but a curious dark green uniform with a cape. On her chest was sitting a large and round golden brooch. An ‘M’ was sitting at the center of a circle ornate with illegible symbols. Freya felt her heart sink.

  ‘Nana, what is happening ?’, she said in a strangled voice.

  As a response, Hestia took one last sip of her coffee, stood up and, still with her soft smile, held her hand in front of Freya.

  ‘It’s time now, sweet love. Take my hand and come with me.’

  ‘Time for what ? Nana, what’s going on ?’, Freya replied as she slowly stood up.

  ‘You’ll understand very soon. Trust me. Come now.’

  Hesitantly, Freya obliged and carefully placed her hand in her grandmother’s.

  She instantly felt her heart go up in her throat as the whole kitchen disappeared quickly above her head, as if she was in a broken elevator falling at full speed toward the ground. She let out a muffled shriek as she crouched and closed her eyes tight, expecting the crash. After a fall that seemed to last an eternity, the invisible elevator slowed down and stopped smoothly.

  ‘It’s alright now, love. Don’t be scared.’, her grandmother said, holding both her arms. Freya opened her eyes. It took her a moment to get used to the dim atmosphere that contrasted dramatically with the warm light of the kitchen she was in just seconds ago.

  The environment was familiar, however. The serpentine corridor, the dark gothic paneling on the walls separated by wooden pillars, the smooth and shiny tiled floor reflecting the soft light cast by the candles on the walls. She recognized it.

  ‘That’s the Ministry ! What are we doing here, Nana ?’, Freya asked in a whisper.

  Hestia did not respond but turned around and started walking, holding Freya’s hand who had no choice but to follow. They walked through this corridor that seemed to have no end,  dozens of closed doors going by on both sides at what felt like an accelerated pace until they finally reached a massive black door. It opened without anyone pushing on it, and closed by itself behind the two women.

  The decor had changed. Black tile was covering the floor, walls, and ceiling of a short corridor leading to a larger, circular room. Torches on the bare walls cast blue-white flames that seemed to burn and move at a slower pace than normal flames. Freya shivered. It wasn’t cold, but the icy atmosphere was enough to suck the warmth out of anyone.

  Hestia gently pulled her granddaughter towards her, keeping her close by wrapping her arms around her shoulders. A second later, they were at the very center of the room, as if they had teleported. They were standing on a silver circle drawn between the tiles. They were surrounded by doors. Freya counted them. Twelve identical handless doors.

  ‘Where are we, Nana ?’, she asked, unsettled.

  Her grandmother looked at her, but still didn’t respond. Instead, she slowly walked around and placed herself in front of Freya. Suddenly, the room started spinning, faster and faster, in a deafening racket. She could see the doors fly by behind Hestia, and a strong wind made her wild and red hair rise like flames above her head. She seemed to rejuvenate by the second. A blue orb appeared in front of her chest, and she held it between her hands. She opened her mouth to let out an echoed whisper.

  ‘…Find me…’

  Freya reached for her, but she was gone in a flash, like pulled back by an invisible rope. She yelled as she tried to catch her.

  ‘No !’

  But already, the room was changed. She was standing alone in a pitch-black void. At a vertiginous speed and with the sound of hundreds of chains moving at the same time, what looked like high buildings came barreling towards her from the darkness, where her grandmother had disappeared. Freya crouched and covered her head with her arms.

  The silence came back. The only thing Freya could hear was her trembling breathing and her pulse beating in her ears. She was still alive.

  It took her a few seconds to dare glance around through her arms. She stood up when she realized that she was standing between two incredibly high and long shelves. She looked up, and noticed the black ribbed vault high above her head, weakly lit by the pale light emanating from the shelves. As far as she looked on both sides of the narrow corridor she was in, all she could see were blue masses and darkness. Panicked, she started running but somehow didn’t move at all, as if she was stuck in quicksand.

  ‘Nana ? Nana ! Are you there ?’, she called out, hoping to hear a familiar voice somewhere, but was only met with the echo of her own voice.

‘Okay, you need to calm down.’, she whispered to herself, shaking her arms and breathing deeply to try and evacuate her anxiousness. She looked around. Endless piles of spheres of various sizes and shades of blue and green, similar to the one her Nana was holding before she vanished. All she could hear were two words repeating in her head.

  Find me.

She scanned the shelves, trying to read the tiny labels written under each sphere at her reach, but they were all too blurry. The words in her head resonated louder.

  Find me.

  Panick was taking over her again.

  Find me.

  The voice kept getting louder. She started walking, slowly at first, trying to look everywhere for a hint, a sign, a brighter light, anything that could lead her to her objective and accelerated her pace. The voice screamed at her, it wasn’t in her head anymore, but resonating everywhere around her.

  Find me !

  ‘I’m trying !’, she yelled as loud as she could. Her voice broke in a desperate scream.   ‘HELP ME !’

  Everything became dark and silent again. The shelves and the spheres had vanished. She was standing in the black void again.

  ‘No… No, no !’

  She spun round and round in a hopeless attempt to find something until she finally saw a blue round light, floating a few meters away from her. Her breath accelerated, and she slowly walked towards it. Carefully. Prudently. As to not scare it away. It was a sphere. Something was moving softly inside, a tiny thing. An animal, maybe ? She was very close now. Through the transparent glass, she could see it… Freya gasped.

  A baby ! That’s a baby !

  A fully developed, sleeping baby curled up on itself as if it were still in the womb. Instinctively, Freya put her hands on the sphere. She had to protect it. But as soon as her skin made contact with its smooth surface, the sphere burst out in a blinding light, and the baby woke up. It erupted in loud and painful cries, like thunder, piercing her whole body. She heard them everywhere around and inside her, and she felt the pain, and the fear and the cold. The pain. The pain was unbearable, tearing her apart, and she screamed and cried with the baby, as if they were one. She writhed and fell backward, letting the sphere go, and landed heavily on her back on an invisible cold and hard floor.

  She lay like this for an uncertain amount of time, in complete darkness, her eyes closed, feeling herself fall slowly into the infinite void.

  Freya…

  A familiar voice came from very far, kilometers away from her. She opened her eyes. A tiny warm and yellow light was in front of her. The voice came from there.

  Freya…

Without thinking, she ran breathlessly toward it, only wishing to escape this hell. Something, someone was calling her from there. She ran until she could decipher what was in front of her. A chair, a bookcase, a desk ? She kept running.

  Freya, hey, Freya…

  She was so close ! She recognized the room, she had to reach it !

  ‘Freya ! Wake up !’

Chapter Text

  Freya was sitting straight on the bed, dazed, sweaty, and breathless.

  ‘Frey… Are you okay ?’, Nina asked her timidly, almost afraid to touch her. As a response, Freya turned toward her. The intensity in her eyes, close to insanity, took Nina off guard. ‘I— You were screaming and whining in your sleep, you were having a nightmare—‘, she muttered.

  Freya cut her off with a hand gesture, wiped the sweat off her forehead, and looked around her.

  The sky was bright outside now, and the sun must have been up for a few hours already. After the two wizards had left at an advanced hour of the night, Freya and Nina had silently climbed up the stairs, silently brushed their teeth, and changed into their nightwear. There was too much to be said but too little energy to even begin discussing anything. They had then thrown themselves on Freya’s bed, and stared at the ceiling, holding hands, until they both drifted into deep slumber.

  Freya pushed the sheet off of her and stood up from the bed, facing Nina.

  ‘What are you doing? Freya, are you okay ?’, Nina insisted, distraught. Freya stared at her blankly and remained silent. She mechanically turned around and marched toward the bedroom door. She opened it and stood in the corridor, leaving Nina on her bed, stunned. In a heartbeat, Nina jumped out of the bed and ran to stand in front of Freya.

  ‘Frey! You’re being so weird right now, what the hell is going on ?! You’re scaring me !’, she exclaimed, both her hands on her shoulders to shake her gently. Freya blinked several times and stared at her friend like she had woken up a second time. Never had she ever seen such a worried expression on Nina’s face. In fact, scarce —if not inexistent — were the times she had seen Nina visibly worried. Seeing her in that state was odd enough for Freya to snap out of her trance.

  ‘I—I’m fine, Nin. I just had this dream…’, Freya said, still dazed.

  ‘Yes, I know! And you were crying and screaming, and now you’re being all weird and cryptic! Can you tell me what happened, please ?’, Nina replied, frustrated.

  ‘I need to check something.’ Freya gently pushed her friend out of the way, looked up to the paneled ceiling, and started singing.

  You are my sunshine

  My only sunshine…

  As the first verses came out of her mouth, the rectangular crease appeared in the paneling and soon the hatch opened, letting the delicate staircase slowly unfold in front of her. Freya quickly climbed up the steps leaving Nina, who looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her skull, at the foot of the stairs. When she found herself in her Nana’s secret room, she started scanning her surroundings and quickly disappeared from Nina’s sight. She moved swiftly between the furniture, trying to catch anything that resembled a blue sphere, or something that could lead her to it.

   ‘Fuck! What is this ?’, Nina whispered, her head poking out of the hatch.

  ‘I’m pretty sure that’s the room I saw in my dream, there’s something I need to find in there.’, Freya replied while she crouched under a large chest of drawers.

   ‘What ?’, Nina replied, more confused than she had probably ever been in her life.

  Freya stopped and turned to look at Nina.

  ‘I saw Nana. In my dream. She was there, in the kitchen, talking to me. She said she had something to show me. We were back on the day I was born, she showed me on the calendar. She took me somewhere, a cave or something. And she was holding an orb, like a crystal ball, I think she wanted me to find it. There were shelves, with thousands, millions of orbs like hers on them. I couldn’t find it, I was lost…’ Freya was speaking very fast, holding her head between her hands, as if she was desperately trying to contain her memories inside of it. ‘Then I found it, the orb, and there was this baby in it. I tried to hold it, but it—it… exploded, and there was so much pain! I felt it! It was horrible… Then I fell on my back and saw this room…’ Freya looked in the direction of the circular bookcase and designated it with her hand, ‘I saw it from behind the bookcase, the desk. There’s something I need to find in there.’

  Freya turned around again and resumed her search while Nina stood there, dumbfounded. She was inspecting a little metal box when a scream startled her.

  ‘What the fuck is this ?! Frey !’, Nina was pointing at the single blue eye in the corner that was staring intensely at her and following her every move.

  ‘Oh, this ?’, Freya replied, turning to look at it, ‘I don’t really know, it freaked me out the first time too. But it’s harmless… I think. It just… Stares.’ She shrugged and quickly went back to what she was doing. Nina was petrified.

  Freya combed through the multitude of curious objects scattered on the furniture, the ground, and the shelves. She opened every drawer, every cabinet, looked under everything, but found nothing that could be linked to her dream. She then moved to the bookcase.

  Nina, crammed in a corner next to the staircase, risked a question.

  ‘Are you sure it’s not just a drea—‘

  ‘Yes, I am sure.’, Freya interjected without looking at her, ‘I know there is something here, somewhere. It was a message from Nana !’ It was true. She couldn’t explain it, but she had never been more sure about anything in her life. Her intuition was guiding her. There was no negotiation possible. Nina stayed still, unsure what to do.

  Finally, after a quick inspection of every bookshelf, she moved the desk. She moved and turned everything upside down, passed her hands on every surface. She then kneeled to look under it.

  ‘Ah !’, she exclaimed.

  She had found a small and flat drawer with a keyhole on it, just underneath the workspace, hidden. It could very easily be missed. She pulled on it, expecting it to resist, and was surprised to find it actually wasn’t locked. It opened smoothly and revealed a single metallic object.

  ‘Nin !’

  Nina rushed to join Freya behind the desk.

  ‘What is it ?’, she whispered, keeping the terrifying eye on sight, ready to fight in case it attacked her.

  Freya took the object in her hand and inspected it closely, her hands shaking from excitement.

  ‘That’s the brooch Nana was wearing in my dream !’, she exclaimed. ‘It’s from the Ministry of Magic. I’ve seen this ‘M’ several times, but the symbols around it are different…’ They were indeed. The design seemed way more intricate than the one she had seen in the courtroom. Around the ‘M’, delimited by a circular banner with runic letters on it, were floating several planets with their orbits, along with an hourglass.

  ‘What do you think that is ?’, Nina asked, intrigued. She was forced to recognize that Freya was probably right about her dream.

  ‘Remember when we told you last night that Nana wasn’t actually a teacher and that she worked at the Ministry of Magic? Well, some people who work there wear badges like these. I saw them yesterday. It might be the one she had to wear.’

  ‘What was her job there ?’

  ‘I don’t really know. Something about a Department of Enigmas — or Mysteries, maybe. I’m not sure what Igwe told me anymore.’

  ‘That sounds cool.’, Nina said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Suddenly, she tilted her head and frowned.

  ‘What ?’, Freya asked.

  ‘You said your dream was happening the day you were born, and that there was a baby, right ?’, Nina replied in a pensive tone. ‘That seems very important to me. You told me that you almost died during delivery, didn’t you ?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right…’, Freya replied, reliving the painful baby scene of her dream in her head, ‘My mum was at home with my dad and had suddenly started bleeding. She was in excruciating pain, but they didn’t have time to go to the hospital. I was dying. Thankfully, Nana was here and called a midwife she knew. She saved me. My mother always says she doesn’t have any memories of that day. Nana never said more about it either. Only that I would have died without that woman. And that the screams of my mother were still haunting her.’ While she spoke, Freya was running her fingers on the brooch, feeling the soft surface of the polished metal and every crease of the engravings. ‘I’ve tried to know more, many times. It's always been a very painful subject for both my Mum and Nana, so… At one point, I stopped asking.’

  Nina’s eyes were fixated on her, and had taken a worried expression. She crossed her arms around her chest.

  ‘You’ve never given me those details before.’, she said calmly.

  ‘Well, the occasion never came. And what’s the point? I’m alive. I don’t even know what happened anyway. Nana’s gone, so I guess we’ll never know.’, Freya shrugged, rubbing her mouth to cover its trembling.

  With time, Freya had repressed her feelings towards this event far in her mind, but in truth, it had always been a painful subject for her too. Not because she was worried about herself, but because she could always see how the atmosphere changed in the room every time she tried to ask questions about it. No matter how lightly she approached it, no matter how she tried to play it down or joked about it, she was always met with a wall. She always felt, deep down, that something abnormal had happened. Her mother insisted she had no recollection of anything, and Freya believed her. But she knew that her body, on the other hand, remembered something. She could see her mother hunch forward and wrap her arms around her chest and belly, and her Nana’s eyes take a grave expression every time Freya’s birth was brought up. Freya had always felt like an important part of her history was hidden from her, like an aching secret she was the subject of but was excluded from, and was robbed of the opportunity to externalize it. And her grandmother had taken that secret with her in her grave. Or did she ?

  ‘Well, maybe she’s trying to tell you now.’, Nina said, putting one arm around Freya’s shoulders.

  Freya thought for a minute. She had been too focused on the secret room to interpret the rest of the dream and connect the dots. She raised her head to look at Nina, mortified. ‘Maybe that baby was you.’, Nina added gravely. Freya felt tingling in her eyes and her nose. Nina suddenly got agitated.

  ‘No, Frey, you’re not going to cry today. That’s enough now.’, she ordered, holding Freya against her in an attempt to conceal her friend’s emotions, but it was already too late. Freya was wailing again. Nina let out a frustrated groan. ‘How is it humanely possible to bawl so much? You must be dehydrated all the fucking time !’, she exclaimed while tightening her arms around her friend. Freya’s propensity for bouts of crying was well-known among all her friends and relatives, but was entirely incomprehensible for Nina, who probably hadn’t shed a single tear since she was in primary school. In truth, even Freya was starting to feel sick and drained by this accumulation of strong emotions and was wondering how she hadn’t become numb at this point. She took a Kleenex from the cardboard box sitting on the desk, left there by her grandmother who had a habit of leaving one in every room of the house, and loudly blew her nose.

  ‘We were inside the Ministry. I recognized the corridors.’, Freya said in a wobbly voice, wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand, ‘There’s something there. There must be. Nana showed it to me and she made me find that brooch. I should probably ask Igwe about this, maybe she knows something.’

  Nina gently pulled Freya toward the hatch.

  ‘Come on, now. Let’s eat something.’, she said gently. They both climbed down the fine staircase and went down to the kitchen.

***

  ‘Frey, you can’t fool me ! I saw how you looked at that Professor Hawthorne.’, Nina exclaimed, laughing and taking a pompous tone. Freya shook her head.

  ‘Oh, shut up !’, she replied, trying to hide her smile while aggressively buttering her toast.

  ‘And I saw how he looked at you too… In front of the fireplace, holding your hand… Oh là là, mademoiselle Toscani ! « Don’t eat anything outside Hogwarts except for my delicious meat! »’ Nina was looking at Freya through her raised eyebrows with a mischievous smile. Her exaggerated suggestive tone and terrible French accent made Freya erupt in a duck-like cackle.

  ‘Oh my god, Nin !’, she replied in a laughing fit, ‘He’s a teacher! My teacher in a few days, at that. And he was just being considerate, that’s all.’

  ‘Ah yes. « Considerate ».’, Nina said, folding her indexes above her head. Freya snickered.

  ‘Anyways, what he said about Tobias using food to get to people, do you remember? I thought he had put something in that cake, but now I am sure of it. He laced it with something, not a drug but a potion. And he has done it with other people before me. When we were together…’, Freya’s face contracted with a rictus, ‘He would always cook for me, always bringing me drinks everywhere we went. I thought he was being « considerate », right? But I’m convinced he laced everything.’

  ‘What kind of potion would make you suddenly turn into a sex-crazed zombie? That’s crazy !’

  ‘I believe it’s a potion called Amortentia. Just wait here !’ Freya dropped her knife and toast on her plate and ran out of the kitchen toward the secret room above the first floor. She grabbed the black book from the pile she had left on her Nana’s desk and ran back to Nina, who was waiting for her in the hallway, perplexed. ‘That’s one of Nana’s books about magic. Come sit down.’, she said while pulling Nina back in the kitchen. She pushed the cups and plates and laid the open book on the table in front of Nina, at the page where the potion was mentioned. Nina read quietly, a line growing between her eyebrows. She covered her open mouth with her hand.

  ‘Shit! Well, that would explain why you were so obsessed with him even though he was a walking red flag. God damn, nothing we did or said would get through to you, you just wouldn’t listen. I didn’t recognize you…’

  ‘It’s not that I wouldn’t listen, Nin! I just couldn’t! When he came the other night, and I ate his cake… It was only a tiny piece, but…’, Freya’s face twisted again, ‘I felt the changes, but there was nothing I could do to fight them. Nothing. I had punched him and yelled at him, I was ready to call the cops when he forced himself inside, I would have never had sex with him if I had been in a normal state. Fuck, why did I eat that cake ?’ Nina looked at her compassionately. She continued, ‘He was so violent… He was never the most tender, but he never used physical violence… Look.’ Freya pulled up her shirt and showed the marks his hands had left on her hips. Nina inspected the bruises closely and clenched her jaw.

  ‘So that’s what you couldn’t tell me on the phone… God, I get it now. What a sack of shit.’, she said angrily. ‘But there’s something I don’t understand.’, she added suddenly after a pause.

  ‘What ?’

  ‘Igwe said last night that no magical person can come into your house without being invited first, or taken inside. He’s a wizard, right ?’ Freya agreed with a nod. ‘You said he forced himself inside, but how did he cross the doorstep if you didn’t invite him in ?’

  Freya lowered her head and replayed the whole scene in her mind. Nina was right, how did that happen? Suddenly, she slapped her hands on both sides of her head. She had just understood.

  ‘He carried me! He carried me inside! I got out to punch him and he grabbed me, he lifted me, and pushed me back inside. We crossed the fucking doorstep together! He knew! He fucking knew !’ Freya exclaimed, standing up from her chair and pacing around the kitchen table.

  ‘What a sick bastard !’, Nina yelled, outraged. ‘He did all this and he made sure you remembered everything! Twisted fuck !’, she added, banging on the table.

  ‘What’s weird is that…’, Freya said after she had sat back down, ‘He ate two pieces of the cake too. Big ones. But it didn’t seem to do anything to him.’

  ‘He probably took an antidote or some shit before coming. It must exist, right ? He had planned everything for sure… Gosh, what a fucking piece of shit.’, Nina spat between her teeth, ‘He’d better be thanking whatever god they have there to still be in fucking prison…’

  ‘You’re not going to do anything, Nin. Remember what Igwe said. He’s a wizard, he could use his wand and there would be nothing you could do to defend yourself.’ Freya said in an appeasing tone. Nina clenched her fist and popped her knuckles. They both fell silent for a moment.

  ‘It’s not your fault, Frey.’, Nina finally said, ‘I hope you’re not feeling guilty or ashamed about what happened, because it’s not your fault. He took advantage of you. Don’t ever let yourself think otherwise.’

  This time, Freya didn’t cry. Instead, she smiled gratefully at Nina and grabbed her hand.

  ‘I know.’

***

    After they had eaten and done a bit of cleaning around the house, they both declared that a stroll in town probably wouldn’t be that bad. Nephelia Igwe had told Freya to not go out alone, not to stay locked at home. They got ready in the bathroom, singing together on Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody and Princes of the Universe, then changed into their outfits for the day. Freya exchanged her oversized shirt and cycling shorts for a wrap-over black top with long sleeves tucked in a long and straight teal skirt with pockets long enough to hold her wand and keep it concealed. She let her hair down, letting her wavy chestnut hair fall on her back. Nina put on a simple black dress with short sleeves which complimented her svelte and athletic figure, and threw a wine-red short cardigan over it. She arranged her mass of dark curls into a messy bun, and put on a pair of black and flat platform sandals, which made her even taller than she already was.

  Though the air was warm, the sky was white from the compact mass of clouds hiding the sun, and a few raindrops started to fall as soon as they stepped foot outside. They hopped in Freya’s car and drove off to the city center.

  The rain had already stopped when they arrived in the parking lot near the main street. When they reached the fence Freya usually locked her bike to, she stopped and hesitated for a second. She remembered the day she was approached by Nephelia Igwe and Elfia Campbell, the day where everything started. It felt like an eternity had passed since. She looked around, wary. She slid one hand into her pocket to feel her wand under her fingers. The more time passed, the more excited she was to learn how to use it. Taking it with her outside probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but she had grown so attached to it that being separated from it, even for a few minutes, had become almost intolerable.

  They walked fast and arrived near the Ole Cooking Pot. Freya pointed at the pub.

  ‘This is where magical people go to pass from the non-magical world to the magical world ! The Ole Cooking Pot ! It’s a cool pub, their drinks are really good actually. I wish I could take you in !’, she said enthusiastically, turning her head toward Nina who was frowning confusedly.

  ‘Where? I don’t see a pub.’, she replied.

  ‘What? It’s right there !’, Freya exclaimed, puzzled. ‘Look, it’s the building with the dark blue walls and the lattice windows !’

  ‘I don’t see anything, Frey, I’m sorry !’ Nina was getting irritated. Freya dropped her arm and recoiled in stupefaction.

  ‘What do you mean? How—.’ She was interrupted by a loud voice rumbling behind her.

  ‘Freya !’

  They both quickly turned around, and Freya jumped when she found herself face-to-face with Mickey. His irregular and large mug which gave away the long years spent in box rings broke into a distorted smile, exposing his two broken front teeth.

  ‘Oh, hi Mickey !’, Freya said, holding her chest.

  ‘I was on my doorstep when I saw you approaching, and I thought, ah ! I’ve got to ask you !’, he roared back with his hoarse voice and a strong Northern accent. ‘Hey, I recognize you.’, he added, turning to Nina and puffing up his chest, ‘I saw you once or twice around ‘ere !’

  ‘It’s possible.’, Nina replied coldly, looking him up and down.

  ‘What did you want to ask me, Mickey ?’, Freya asked, forcing herself to remain as cordial as she could. Even though she had nothing against Mickey, his affiliation with the person she wanted to avoid the most on Earth made her uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

  ‘Oh yeah, er…You seen Toby, lately? That fucker disappeared about three days ago. Said nothing, doesn’t answer the phone… I thought you’d know where ‘e went since he said you and ‘im were, er… Reconciled.’ He smiled awkwardly.

  Freya’s heart dropped. She felt Nina stiffen next to her.

  ‘Three days ago ?’, she whispered, her voice stuck in her throat, ’But I thought he was in —‘, she interrupted herself before slipping up. Nina grabbed Freya’s arm and squeezed it. Freya had to deploy huge efforts to regain her composure.

  ‘No, I haven’t seen him. Haven’t heard of him either. And we aren’t reconciled. Far from it.’, she replied bluntly. Mickey stared at her, disconcerted.

  ‘Yous aren’t back together ?’

  ‘Fuck no !’, she exclaimed, louder than she intended.

  ‘A’ight, well…’, Mickey replied in a softer voice, putting his open hands in front of him as to appease Freya. ‘Guess he lied.’

  ‘Oh, that’s what he does best.’, she said between her teeth. The simple thought of him made her nauseous. Mickey’s face suddenly took a sympathetic expression.

  ‘Did he hurt ya ?’

  The question took Freya off guard. She never expected Mickey, the tough and rough Mickey, to be capable of showing her sympathy. She stared at him, incredulous.

  ‘I guess one doesn’t need to be a rocket scientist to guess the answer.’, Nina replied sarcastically.

  As a response, Mickey nodded. Freya could tell he believed them. He started walking away, leaving Freya and Nina on the sidewalk, but as he was about to go back inside his caff, he turned around and faced them.

  ‘I’ll make sure to punch his pretty little face for you next time I see ‘im.’, he shouted in Freya’s direction.

  Freya laughed nervously. He waved her goodbye and disappeared into his dining room.

Chapter Text

  ‘Fuck !’, Freya exclaimed after a short stunned pause. ‘He probably escaped! We need to go home, Nin. I don’t want to stay here, he’s probably looking for me !’, she scream-whispered, shaking Nina’s arm.

  ‘Calm down. We’re in the middle of the street and it’s super crowded. There’s nothing he can do here. Besides, he’s probably hiding somewhere if he escaped. Unless he’s an idiot, he wouldn’t dare to show himself in plain sight.’, Nina said hastily, attempting to reassure Freya.

  ‘Someone has to know this. I hope Igwe knows! I should find a way to contact her!’ Freya was in such an anxious state that Nina struggled to make herself heard.

  ‘Hey, hey ! Come on, Frey ! Nothing’s going to happen, okay ? We’re in a busy street filled with Muggles, me included. I’m right here, with you. Don’t let him scare you, he’s a worthless piece of shit. Did you forget how you resisted him last week? You’re way braver than this, I know it.’

  These last words seemed to have an effect on Freya. She calmed down a bit, and let Nina pull her into a trendy cafe further down the street. They ordered their food and drinks and sat down in the farthest corner of the room on the first floor. Nina tasted every single item before allowing Freya to eat hers and jokingly pretended to be struck dead after taking a sip of her pineapple juice. Freya laughed and relaxed a little. Still, she couldn’t help but scope her surroundings and panic a little every time someone looked at her for more than half a second. Her heart tightened every time a slim man with short dark hair appeared in her vision, but Nina worked actively to distract and hype her up.

  ‘It’s not like he could kill you or anything.’, Nina said between two bites of her bagel.

  ‘If he managed to open the box, he knows that I lied to him. So he’ll want to find me and get the wand, and probably hurt me really bad in the process. You should have seen his eyes when I slapped him… Don’t even know how I did not piss my pants. God, I wish I could have a quarter of your courage. ’ Freya replied, hunching forward and speaking as low as the ambient noise allowed her.

  ‘You didn’t piss your pants because you’re a bad bitch, Freya. Look at how you stood up for yourself! You even managed to protect your wand while you were drugged out of your mind! That’s real courage, are you kidding? When it comes to me, don’t fool yourself, that’s not courage.’

  Freya stared at her confusedly.

  ‘What do you mean ? You take no crap from anyone, you’re never impressed or scared by anything, you could take anyone on a fight and win effortlessly, you’re never anxious or stressed…’

  ‘Absolutely. But that’s still not courage.’, Nina replied calmly while folding her napkin neatly on the table. She leaned forward and smiled, ‘I just don’t give a shit. That’s all.’

  ‘That’s not true !’, Freya protested.

  ‘I already told you, Frey. The only things I care about are my brother, you, making enough money to buy myself whatever the fuck I want, and crushing men’s ego. The rest is worthless to me. As long as these four elements are there and doing well, then I have nothing to worry about.’

  Freya contemplated her friend in silence for a long moment. At 27 years old, Nina was only a year younger than Freya, but looked older. Her fine and regular features, contained in a slim and triangular face surrounded by a mane of dark brown curls, and enhanced by long and dark eyebrows had been prematurely hardened by the unfair hardships of her life. Everything in her was elongated and pointed, from her nose to her limbs. Her temper too had been forcefully chiseled and made severe and caustic. While Freya had grown up in a tight-knit and loving family, Nina had known nothing but chaos and violence in every form. Despite all this, she had managed to cultivate the tiniest shreds of love she had ever received, and turn them into a selfless dedication toward the only two people she considered as family: her little brother Eddie and Freya. Her sharp mind and ambition helped her achieve an excellent career in finance that allowed her to be dependent on herself only. Their friendship had started when they were still in high school when Freya had found Nina sitting alone on the sidewalk at night with nothing but a small handbag, after she had been thrown out of the house by her father for the umpteenth time. Freya had recognized the uniform she was wearing and sat next to her to chat. Nina had then spent that night at Freya’s house, and many other nights after that. Nina and Freya were opposites in every way, and yet complemented each other perfectly, like night and day.

  They spent a few hours chatting in the cafe. No one came to disturb them, but when the clock on their phones hit 3 o’clock, they decided it was time to go home and watch movies.

  When they stepped out of the establishment, laughing at a bawdy joke about Freya’s future Transfiguration teacher, something in the corner of her eye caught Freya’s attention. She turned her head to look at it more closely… and froze in place.

  ‘Nin !’, she shrieked, squeezing Nina’s arm. Nina turned around, squinted her eyes, and spat a swear word. Among the multitude of heads moving up and down the street, they both recognized the jet-black hair, the equally black eyes and the nasty smirk. Tobias was staring straight at them and had just started moving. He was getting closer. Nina grabbed Freya’s hand and pulled her toward the bottom of the street. They had to reach the parking lot quickly. They ran as fast as they could, slowed by the passersby who were blocking their way, and glanced behind their shoulders to see Tobias weave through the thick crowd at an alarming speed. He would catch up with them way before they could reach the car. As they were getting closer to the Ole Cooking Pot, Freya abruptly pulled on Nina’s hand and led her to the sidewalk on their left.

  ‘What are you doing ?! We have to get to the car !’, Nina yelled above the loud rumor of the street. Freya didn’t answer. Instead, she stopped in front of Mickey’s restaurant's closed door and banged forcefully on it. After a few seconds that seemed to have lasted minutes, the door finally opened and a sullen face appeared in the doorframe.

  ‘What in the —‘, Mickey roared, surprised. But Freya didn’t take to time to explain the situation and pushed the door open, forcing herself and Nina inside the restaurant. They immediately closed it behind them.

  ‘He’s here ! He’s here ! Lock the door !’, Freya yelled at Mickey while Nina and her were pressing their whole weight on the door.

  ‘Who’s here ?!’, Mickey shouted back.

  ‘Tobias !’, Freya and Nina yelled in unison. Mickey reacted quickly and rushed to insert the key into the lock, but it was too late. Tobias was already pushing on the handle and forcing the door open with extraordinary strength. Mickey joined them to push but Tobias had already put his foot between the door and the frame, and he let out a furious roar.

  ‘Freya !!!’

  He was throwing himself against the door, each time gaining space until he managed to slide his arm and shoulder inside. Mickey was trying to push him back while screaming all sorts of insults at him. Nina was stomping on his foot as hard as she could and attempting to grab his arm to twist it, but he was way quicker and managed to punch her in the jaw which made her sway and move away from the door. He took advantage of it and pushed again, this time creating a space wide enough for him to slide his head and half of his body into the dining room. He turned his horribly deformed face toward Freya, who threw her hand to scratch him, but he caught it and squeezed her wrist so hard she thought he would break it. She let out a scream and attempted to jerk herself free, but he tightened his grip and she felt her bones twist inside her arm. Nina came back and threw her leg into the door with all her strength, which brought a scream of pain out of Tobias.

  ‘Ah ! Fuck this !’ Mickey shouted, red in the face and dripping with sweat. Freya’s vision was getting blurry, but she watched him reach for his back pocket and take a wand out of it. Everything happened in the blink of an eye, and Freya didn’t have time to express her surprise. Mickey raised his wand and Tobias let go of Freya’s wrist. There was a purple flash and immediately after, Mickey was violently propelled back to the bottom of the dining room and landed on several tables and chairs in a deafening racket.

  ‘Oh fuck !’, Freya shouted, terrified.

  ‘Run to the back! Take the back door !’, Mickey managed to shout while painfully trying to stand back up. Nina grabbed Freya and they both ran behind the counter to go through the door leading to the kitchen. They heard a loud BANG ! behind them. Tobias had slammed the front door closed behind him and was on their heels. They ran around the unlit and surprisingly big kitchen and walk-in fridges in search of the back door, while flashes of various colors could be seen and heard through the hatch, cracking and rebounding everywhere. Finally, Freya found it and pushed the handle. But the door didn’t budge.

  ‘It’s locked !’, she scream-whispered, looking frantically for a key. A loud and hoarse scream was heard. They both understood Mickey had been defeated. Tobias was coming.

  He appeared at the hatch and passed through it with cat-like agility. His eyes were locked on Freya. They had turned so black they almost looked like those of a shark. His mouth was distorted in a rictus, and his nostrils flared. He looked like a rabid animal. Though he wasn’t exceptionally tall, the fury emanating from him made him look gigantic to Freya.

  ‘There you are.’, he growled, with an almost inhuman voice.

  Freya was petrified. Her wand was burning against her thigh. He tried to move closer, but before he could take one step, he was violently projected against the wall on his left. Nina had barreled toward him and shoved him so hard they both fell in a racket of clangs. She was on top of him, trying to immobilize and choke him as he struggled to free himself. They were shouting all kinds of insults at each other, emitting enraged animal noises as they fought furiously. Hands and feet were flying everywhere, but Nina was hanging on, deflecting many of Tobias’ attacks and pressing all of her weight on his chest. Finally, she managed to grab the arm he was holding his wand with, and sunk her teeth deep inside his forearm flesh. Tobias howled in pain and let go of his wand. Freya snapped out of her stupefaction and rushed to catch it, but he managed to kick in the opposite corner of the kitchen before she could. In a split second, the situation changed. Despite the weight Nina was putting on him, Tobias abruptly stood up and head-butted her in the face. There was bone-crack and Nina fell backwards, groaning painfully, her hands on her nose.

  ‘Nina !’, Freya yelled.

  ‘Get out !!!’, Nina yelled back, blood dripping everywhere through her fingers. Freya ran around the island unit in another attempt at catching Tobias’s wand, but he had already stood up and put his foot on it as she was about to grab it. Freya looked up and knew it was too late. He grabbed her by the jaw and pinned her against the wall, pressing on her throat. He was fuming with rage. His bulging eyes, his lips curled on his teeth and the scratches all over his face made him look absolutely monstrous.

  ‘You fucking lied to me !!! You knew about magic and you knew about your hag of a grandmother’s wand all along, right? You hid it from me! The fucking box was empty!’, he shouted directly in her face, spitting gobs all over her. Freya was frozen, struggling to breathe. She put her hands on Tobias’s wrist, trying to sink her nails as deep as she could into his skin, in a weak and desperate attempt to make him let go, but only to see his maniac smile grow larger. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Nina get back up and run toward them. In one quick move, Tobias pointed his wand toward her while a strangled scream came out of Freya’s mouth, and Nina was instantly lifted in the air. She let out a shriek and tried desperately to move around but was unable to, like bound by invisible ropes. She was floating on her back and was choking on and spitting up the blood dripping from her nose directly into her throat. He moved even closer, pressing his body against Freya’s and speaking directly in her ear.

  ‘Did you expect I’d leave you alone after that, uh? You thought I wouldn’t try to find you? What did I tell you about lying to me?! Oh, the old bag knew what I wanted. She enchanted her house to keep me away, but that wasn’t enough. So she set me up and sent me to Azkaban for months, can you imagine? She tried to keep you away from me, but you wouldn’t listen, eh? You were too obsessed with me. The two of you. How sweet. I’ve got to say, I enjoyed using you like a cum rag, you’re very good at it.’ He snickered contemptuously and passed his tongue on his teeth. He tightened his grip around Freya’s jaw, choking her. His mouth was almost touching hers. ‘I should have killed that stale bitch when I had the chance.’

  An electric shock emanated from the wand in Freya’s pocket, filling her entire body. Something switched in her. An unsuspected force suddenly crushed her fear and she reacted in one second. She pushed him away, lifted her leg, and threw it with all her strength in Tobias’ stomach, pushing him back against the island unit, which he hit with force. 

  'Well, I'll be damned, babe...', he panted as he coughed and retched, 'I never knew you were this strong.' His insufferable smug grin had appeared again on his face. Holding her throat, breathing heavily, Freya took out her wand from her pocket and pointed it at Tobias. They were both aiming at each other. He looked at her, incredulous, then at the wand. His eyes widened and he busted into a clear and chilling laugh. ‘Are we doing this, really?’, he asked with a wide grin, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, babe. It’d pain me to have to kill you. Give it to me.’, he ordered, breathless, ‘And I swear no one will get hurt.’

  Freya stood solidly on her two feet, while the energy of the wand radiated stronger than ever inside her whole body.

  ‘Fuck off.’, she replied coldly, trembling with rage.

   Tobias smiled and looked at her defiantly, ‘Alright, then.’, he said, pointing his wand toward Nina who was still floating above the wide gas stoves. She let out a harrowing scream when a blinding and deafening flash cracked in the room, blowing everything around them.

Chapter Text

  There was nothing but darkness around Freya. The ground against her back was cold and hard. She turned her head on each side to try and decipher something, anything… Pitch-blackness. All she could hear was the rustling of her clothes under her hands. She was alone. Time and space didn’t exist anymore. She didn’t feel scared or nervous; in fact, she felt oddly peaceful and safe. She didn't remember what happened the minute before and didn't care for what would happen next. She lay there for a moment, in a state of pure serenity. She was just... there.

  Finally, she sat up. She rubbed her hands on her legs and slowly shoved one into her left pocket to touch her wand, only to find it empty. She hastily checked the other pocket but didn’t find it either.

  ‘What? Where—‘

  Suddenly, a blue dim light appeared in front of her, giving form to her body under the folds of her clothes. She looked up, surprised. About two meters away from her was standing a human and faceless silhouette entirely made of a white and luminous nebula. Freya squinted. It looked feminine. Her eyes stopped on one of its hands. It had a wand!

  ‘Who-Who are you?’, she asked, uncertain. Her voice resonated everywhere around her.

  As a response, the silhouette raised its arm and pointed its finger at her. Freya frowned, confused. She tried to articulate something but only managed to sputter incoherent sounds. The silhouette lifted its arm again, but this time, pointed its finger toward an invisible ceiling. Freya looked up.

  ‘Wh-what are you showing me? I-I can’t—‘, she stammered, trying to find something above her head in the thick obscurity. Suddenly, the light emanating from the silhouette intensified, becoming almost blinding, giving off an incredible power, radiating everywhere, permeating Freya’s skin through every pore. The silhouette pointed its finger at her again and moved toward her at full speed. Freya did not have time to scream as the silhouette passed through her with such force it pushed her backward. She found herself on her back again and saw a white and amazingly bright disk fall on her from the ceiling. There was nowhere she could go, it was going to engulf her completely. Powerless, she closed her eyes and held her breath.

  ‘Miss Toscani ! Oh sweet Merlin, you’re awake !’, a voice cried above Freya’s head as she abruptly opened her eyes. She sat up on her elbows, dazed, and looked around her. She squeezed her left hand and felt her wand in it. Her vision was blurry, and through the painful ringing of her ears, she could hear at least two different voices shouting around her. Finally, she looked to her right, where one of the voices was the closest, and recognized the yellow pupils and dark skin of Nephelia Igwe. She was probably talking to her, but Freya was unable to understand a single word.

  Freya blinked several times in an attempt to clear her vision and noticed a lifeless black mass poking out behind a metallic block. Her heartbeat accelerated. She attempted to crawl toward it, but her whole body ached so much she felt like all her bones had been crushed several times.

  ‘Nina…’, she muttered while painfully trying to sit up.

‘Miss Toscani, don’t move !’, Igwe ordered, gently pushing her back, ‘She’s alive. Miss Harker is still unconscious but she’s alive. I’ve stopped her bleeding. Healers are on their way.’

  Freya exhaled in relief. She pulled herself backward, rested her back on a pile of debris, and rubbed her eyes, rummaging through her memory to remember what had just occurred. She opened her eyes again and finally noticed her environment.

  She was in what looked like the aftermath of an explosion. Broken objects and debris were scattered on the floor and every surface of the room. Ceiling fixtures dangled miserably by thin cables and threatened to fall at any second. She looked down at her legs. She was covered in greyish powder and dust. She looked at her hand and realized her fingers were all stained with dried blood. She touched her forehead, looked at her fingers again, now covered with warm and liquid blood, and understood it was hers. A sharp pain suddenly erupted at the top of her head. She pressed her hand against it only to find a deep cut in her scalp. The warm liquid was dripping all over her face and chest.

  ‘Sweet Merlin !’, an unknown voice exclaimed on her left. Freya turned her head and saw a man crouching next to her. She jumped at the sight of a mass of black hair, but quickly noticed a pair of round glasses. The man held his wand above her and lit its tip, blinding her.   

  ‘That’s a nasty wound.’, the man said in a worried tone, examining her head, ‘But at least you’re alive. We’re going to take care of you, Miss Toscani.’

  Freya remained quiet, too stunned to stay anything. He stood up. ’Where is Gaunt ?’, he asked, turning around.

  ‘I don’t know, I ‘aven’t seen ‘im. He probably disapparated already…’, a coarse and strained voice replied from behind him. Freya recognized Mickey.   

  Everything came back to her in a second. Tobias, Mickey, the kitchen, the fight… At this very moment, she noticed movement near one of the walk-in fridges’ open door, at the opposite end of the kitchen. Concealed by a pile of scattered pots, pans, smashed plates, food trays and trolleys, a pair of legs were moving slowly. Freya recognized the blue jeans that were covering them. She stiffened. Suddenly, a torso and a face appeared in the door frame. Tobias had just sat up, his bloody face contorted with pain. He was holding his arm which looked to be limp and bent in an unnatural way. He looked up, and locked eyes with her. The look he gave her froze her in place. In a short second, she read stupefaction, incomprehension, humiliation, scorn, rage, fear, revenge, and pure hatred. They stared at each other, shocked, then she quickly aimed her wand toward him.

  ‘There !!!’, she yelled.

  Every head turned toward where she was pointing. Tobias raised his gaze toward the round-glassed wizard who instantly rushed toward him. The latter waved his wand and shouted.

  ‘Stupefy !!!’

  But before the red flash could land on its target, Tobias had curled up on himself and disappeared in the crack of a whip.   

  ‘No !’, Igwe cried.

  ‘Blimey !’, the wizard exclaimed furiously. ‘The bastard really honors his reputation. We don’t have any other choice. His escape has to be made official.’

  He opened his jacket and took a small black metallic sphere out of one of his inside pockets. He gently threw it in the air but instead of falling on the floor, the ball deployed tiny wings and floated in the air in front of the wizard’s nose. He spoke directly to it.

  ‘Tobias Gaunt. Azkaban escape confirmed. Black shirt, blue jeans. Injured. Every available Auror and M.L.E.P unit must engage in national search. Immediate neutralization and transfer to the Ministry upon capture.’

  As soon as the wizard finished his sentence, the black ball disappeared. Freya thought it had just evaporated, but the sound of glass breaking in the dining room indicated it had chosen to fly out of the establishment by the quickest route instead.

  ‘Did you know he had escaped ?!’, Freya asked Igwe in a panicked voice. The witch, who had come back next to her and was pressing a cloth on her head wound that instantly made her pain disappear, raised her head toward Mickey and gave him a resentful gaze. The tall and large man was standing in the door frame that separated the dining room and the kitchen, sheepishly avoiding eye contact.

  ‘No. We didn’t know.’, she said coldly.

  Freya turned her head to look at the restaurant owner, whose complexion had taken a crimson tone.

  ‘Listen…’, he mumbled, looking at his feet, ‘I didn’t know ‘e ‘ad escaped in the first place, I thought yous had released ‘im. And ‘e didn’t ‘ave his wand because yous have confiscated it, so I thought ‘e was harmless. He came back to work. He said ‘e’d learned his lesson and needed dosh so I took ‘im back without question. Business is never better than when ‘e’s here and—‘

  ‘You were supposed to keep us informed on his every move !’, Igwe shouted, furious, ‘The Ministry pays you and protects you for this! You took an oath, Mister Benchley, and you’ve just broken it. And this isn't even considering the fact that you have used magic in the non-magical world, which you were strictly forbidden to do after your multiple interferences with the Wizarding Secrecy! The Ministry has given you a second chance and you’ve just lost it !’

  ‘I did it to protect her !’, Mickey shouted back, desperate and waving his hand toward Freya. ‘I couldn’t just stand there, he was taking punches like 'e didn't feel a thing! That’s what you wanted me to do, right? I tried! And how do you not know when a prisoner escapes? Maybe it’s your fault!’, he roared, clenching his fists.

   Freya stared at Mickey, gobsmacked. She could see the white of his eyes turning pink and humid. Igwe stood up and raised her wand in front of her, threatening him. Mickey took a step back and protected himself with his arms.

  ‘Igwe.’, the round-glassed wizard interjected, putting himself between them. He was thin and not particularly imposing, but his piercing gaze and firm stance gave off undisputable authority, and Igwe reluctantly lowered her wand. He turned to Mickey.

  ‘You’re right. His escape is a terrible negligence on our part. But that doesn’t change the fact that you failed to do what was asked of you. You knew, ever since his last incarceration that he was on the Breacher’s watch list. Igwe came personally to tell you that he constituted a threat to Miss Toscani a week ago, and she told you to keep a closer eye on him for this reason.’, he said firmly while Mickey seemed to shrivel up.

  ‘Mickey…’, Freya said, now sitting up. He turned his small wet eyes toward her. ‘Did you try to warn me earlier? When you asked me if I had seen him ?’

  Mickey nodded. He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

  ‘Yeah. But I didn’t think ye knew about Azkaban. Or even magic. I didn’t even fucking know ye were a witch, for fuck’s sake. No one told me. And ye were with yer friend. So I tried to be… discreet, sort of…’ Two large tears rolled down his cheeks and he took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want to snitch on ‘im because ‘e’s a bloody good cook and I care about my business! There, I said it! But…’ He repressed a sob,’ But I didn’t think ‘e’d be like that… I didn’t think things would take that turn. The bloke was rabid, I swear on me! I heard everything ‘e said to ya. Fuck. I’m sorry.’

  Mickey’s lower lip was trembling. Freya could see he was mobilizing all his willpower not to break down in tears.

  ‘Caring too much about your business will cause you to lose it, I’m afraid.’, Igwe spat angrily.

  Mickey whined and repressed another sob, but didn’t add a word. The round-glassed wizard turned and crouched next to Freya. She stared at him and examined him closely. Behind his glasses, she saw that his eyes were of a beautiful bright green color. He looked older. Crow’s-feet and smile lines had already dug his skin, and a few white hairs seasoned his shock of black ruffled hair, especially at his temples. His triangular jaw was framed by a greying stubble, and through the hair strands that were falling on his forehead, she noticed a faded scar that oddly looked like a bolt of lightning. 

  ‘Do you remember what happened ?’, he asked softly.

  Freya hesitated, pondering whether to tell the truth or not. She tried to evaluate which one of the two options could get her in more trouble. Her short experience in the magical side of the world had shown her that being truthful was not the best idea.

 Oh well.

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘Yes.’, she said after a pause. ‘But I don’t know how that happened. I never had the intention to… to do this.’, she added, looking around, taking in the extent of the chaos around them. ‘I don’t know how I did that.’, she added, whispering. Her eyes stopped on Nina, who was still unconscious and breathing softly.

  ‘So you’ve cast a spell, is that right?’, the wizard asked, still very calmly.

  ‘Yes. I think so.’

  ‘What spell was that?’

  ‘I don’t know. I told you, I don’t know how I did that. I’ve never used magic, except to levitate a glass once. He threatened to kill Nina and… There was a white flash, everything blew up and -.’

  ‘Why did you take your wand out if you’ve never used magic?’

  ‘I didn’t think. I just did. Like a reflex.’, Freya replied, distraught, ‘He was going to kill her.’, she added in a breath, tilting her head toward Nina.

  The wizard stared intensely into her eyes as if he were looking for something inside of them. His gaze darkened slightly and Freya felt the urge to defend herself.

  ‘I am not lying, sir! Please believe me.’

  ‘I believe you.’, he said simply. ‘A white flash, you said?’

  ‘Yes.’, she replied, disconcerted. He frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by an exclamation coming from behind him.

  ‘Boss, come look at this !’ Igwe shouted from near the walk-in fridges. She was holding a white wand with a triumphant look on her face.

  ‘I already told you not to call me that.’, the wizard said as he stood up and hurried to join her.

  ‘That’s not Gaunt's wand. But we can easily figure out who it belongs to.’, she said excitedly.

  ‘Well, that’s a bloody nice gift he left us. Do you think he stole it?’

  ‘It’s possible, but we’ve had no reports of stolen wand today, at least that I know of. I rather think that one of his acolytes has lent it to him. He’s known to be extremely persuasive. I’ll launch the investigation as soon as they’re taken to St-Mungo’s.’, Igwe said, cocking her head toward Freya, who had finally managed to crawl to Nina and was moving her dried blood-drenched hair out of her face.

  Nina had regained consciousness and turned onto her back. Her nose was swollen, undoubtedly broken, and she was emitting curious noises, halfway between laughs and sobs.

  ‘You literally… sent his… arse flying.’, Nina articulated, breathing with difficulty. Freya couldn’t contain herself and snickered nervously, which triggered Nina who started to laugh as well. She had to hold her ribs, punctuating her laughs with groans of pain. ‘No, seriously, Frey… That was… Crazy… I saw… Everything.’ The white of her eyes and her teeth were blood-red.

  Freya felt the familiar tingling in her nose again and soon, two tears fell out of her eyes as she gently held Nina’s face between her hands.

  ‘I could have killed you… I’m so sorry, Nin.’, Freya whispered.

  ‘But… you didn’t. You were… Incredible. You're... a witch, Frey.’, Nina replied with a wide grin.

  A series of cracks was heard in the dining room, and multiple voices rose suddenly. Four people barged into the kitchen, two women and two men, all wearing lime-green uniforms and small pointy hats. Suddenly, Freya and Nina found themselves surrounded by the group.

  ‘Healers, finally !’, Igwe exclaimed, slightly irritated, ‘What took you so long ?’

  ‘Sorry officer, there was an attack in London while we were on our way. Had to go back because the first team was overwhelmed. Muggles involved. Took us a lot of time to gather them all, they had scattered like rats in the panic.’, the oldest of the two Healer wizards said with a strong Londonian accent, while actively examining Freya and Nina while the others were making bandages, dressings, and two stretchers appear out of nowhere.

  Before anyone could ask any questions, the green-eyed wizard spat a swear word. He was holding a black sphere in his hand, similar to the one he had sent out of the restaurant a few minutes prior, and was reading something on its surface.

  ‘Check your snitch, Igwe.’, he ordered. The witch obliged. Her small black sphere in hand, she read quickly while her eyes widened.

  ‘Shit !’, she spat between her teeth.

  ‘I’ve got to go. Stay with them in St-Mungo’s, I’ll join you later.’ The wizard said hastily. He then marched toward Freya and Nina, who were now safely strapped in their stretchers with the Healers waiting to go. ‘You’ll be safe and well cared for in St-Mungo’s.’, he said to both of them.

  ‘What do we do about this muggle, sir ?’, one of the Healer witches asked.

  ‘No obliviation for her. She’s under magical oath.’ The witch nodded. ‘Goodbye, Miss Toscani, I’ll see you very soon. Miss Harker.’, he added before vanishing in a loud crack.

  ‘Shit ! How… do you guys do that ?’, Nina asked in a drowsy voice.

  ‘It’s called Apparating.’, Igwe said with a little smirk, ‘Which is what we’re about to do now.’ The Healers threw a thin and shimmery blanket over Nina’s whole body, which strapped itself under the stretcher. ‘Benchley, you’re coming with us. Let’s go.’, Igwe said. Mickey hurried to join them and grabbed onto Freya’s stretcher.

  One second later, the devastated kitchen disappeared in a crack.

Chapter Text

  Freya was sitting on her bed with her arms crossed, observing the procession of Healers running in the corridor through her bedroom door.

  After their arrival at St-Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Nina and her had been separated and taken into different wings of the establishment. Freya had been cleaned, examined by a male Healer in a lime-green robe who barely spoke to her, had been given a disgusting potion for her multiple sprains, and another one to numb her head while a needle and a thread sewed her wound.

  ‘The thread should fall tomorrow and the scar should disappear in three days at most. You’re good to go.’, he said mechanically before storming off the room.

  It had been twenty minutes now. Twenty minutes since she had been left alone and unsupervised in this hospital room. Before leaving for a ‘quick trip’ to the Ministry, Nephelia Igwe had designated a young and arrogant M.L.E.P agent to watch Freya while she was gone. Unfortunately, not even five minutes into his shift, the rookie too had decided to take a ‘quick trip’ to the bathroom and seemed to be stuck there.

  Freya had left her cell phone and her wand with Igwe who warned her that, like in the Ministry, muggle technology was strictly forbidden there. Consequently, she had nothing to do and no means to contact anyone. She had had the time to replay the restaurant’s incident approximately five hundred times in her head, thoroughly study the maroon wallpaper’s patterns, and chew all her fingernails off.

  Finally, judging that no one was coming to get her, she pulled her hospital gown off, put her blood-stained clothes back on, and left her room to look for Nina. She was on the ground floor, the floor reserved for small and unserious injuries.

  She hurried through the narrow corridors, decorated with countless portraits of famous Healers and lit from the ceiling by crystal bubbles, and passed through several double doors before realizing that she was lost. She caught a Healer wizard who was running in the opposite direction and stopped him to ask for directions. He looked her up and down, noticing the blood on her clothes.

  ‘What happened to you? Are you a patient? What are you doing out of your room?’, he asked loudly, drawing every passerby’s attention on them.

  ‘No, I—I’m a visitor!’, Freya lied, chuckling nervously, ‘I went looking for the bathroom and I got lost. Could you tell me where the reception is, please ?’

  The Healer gave her a suspicious look but raised his arm in front of him.

  ‘First on your left after the next double doors, then on your right.’, he said sternly, picking his race again. Freya thanked him and trotted behind him.

  She passed through the double doors and took the corridor on her left, walking by visitors chatting in the narrow hallway. As she walked, she took the time to observe them. The first thing she noticed was the blatant contrast between the older and younger generations of witches and wizards.

  Magical people who seemed to be in their fifties and above wore beautiful robes of various colors and dark pointy hats. Some of them, especially witches, had adorned the band and brim of their hats with all sorts of trinkets like charms, flowers, crystals, brightly colored feathers, and even giant insect wings. The older generation seemed particularly fond of jewelry, and most of them wore rings on every finger, bracelets, and earrings. Around their waist or chests were what looked like small ornated holsters for their wands, which they carried proudly for everyone to see.

  The younger generation, however, seemed to have dropped this flamboyant fashion and picked up on more common clothes. Though they still stood out by subtle magical hints and a strong 1990s influence, they could easily mingle with the non-magical people without drawing too much attention. Each of them had their own sense of style and uniqueness, however. What would be considered bold or alternative fashion choices in the non-magical world seemed perfectly normal amongst young witches and wizards, who appeared to proudly cultivate their singularity and diversity.

  It was the first time she truly meddled with the wizarding community and could catch a glimpse of their customs. Magical people seemed to care a lot about their appearance but much less for others than for themselves.

  Finally, she made a turn to her right and the reception hall appeared at the end of the hallway. It was strangely quiet. A blonde and plump witch sat behind a massive wooden desk, her glasses on the tip of her nose, and was listening to a poor old wizard who had visibly lost control over his body and was restlessly dancing the samba. He was firmly grasping the edge of the desk in an attempt to stabilize himself, but his legs kept shaking and dancing uncontrollably while his voice was halting with jolts, amplified by the contained silence of the room. Freya looked over to the patients waiting on the old chairs facing the desk and noticed a fair number of them struggling to contain their laughter. She covered her mouth to hide her growing smile and placed herself in the queue in front of the desk. The whole room erupted in a loud hilarity when the poor old wizard left the reception hall, samba-ing his way through the narrow corridors.

  As she was waiting, Freya saw a group of people gather around the information board on her left, where a poster she could swear was blank when she arrived was now filled with text in broad letters surrounding a picture. She squinted to try and decipher the words through the heads and shoulders that jostled in front of it, and managed to read ‘LONDON’, ‘ATTACK’, ‘BREACHER’, and ‘ESCAPE’.

   ‘Next !’, a high-pitched voice called in front of her, startling her. It was her turn. Freya hurried toward the reception desk.

  ‘Hello, Miss.’, she said politely to the Welcome Witch who looked sternly at her above her wide triangular glasses. She lowered her eyes and noticed the blood on her shirt.

  ‘Are you injured ?’, she asked curtly.

  ‘Er, not anymore, I’ve already been treated.’, Freya replied with a kindly smile.

  ‘Right. What’s the matter, then ?’

  ‘I’m looking for a friend. We arrived here at the same time, and—‘

  The plump witch lifted her arm and pointed at a board behind her head with her quill.

  ‘Visiting hours start at 5:30.’

  Freya glanced at the clock above the desk. She had to wait for an hour.

  ‘But—‘, Freya started. The Welcome Witch raised her hand.

  ‘5:30.’, she repeated, ‘You can wait there.’, she added while gesturing toward the old chairs. Freya opened her mouth to insist one last time, but she suddenly felt a hand fall on her shoulder. She jumped and turned around.

  ‘Miss Toscani! What are you doing here? I was looking for you!’, Igwe exclaimed in a disapproving tone.

  ‘Er, I— Er…’, Freya mumbled as the tall witch pulled her aside.

  ‘You were supposed to stay in your room! Hoakley said he left for thirty seconds and you were gone! Do you realize how dangerous it is for you to be alone here ?! After what happened? Are you mad ?!’

  Freya didn’t like the way she was being spoken to. First the Welcome Witch, and now Igwe? She pulled her even further aside in the corridor.

  ‘First of all, your agent didn’t leave for ‘thirty seconds’.’, Freya replied defiantly, feeling her blood starting to boil, ‘He said he was going to the bathroom shortly after you left and was gone for maybe twenty minutes when I got out of my room! Second of all, if it’s that dangerous, why didn’t you stay yourself? And thirdly, where is Nina?’

  Igwe stared at her with wide outraged eyes, then took a deep breath to regain her composure.

  ‘I had to bring the wand we found at the restaurant to the Ministry as fast as I could to launch the investigation. I had to do it myself. I came back as soon as it was done.’, she whispered, slightly irritated.

  ‘Okay, well perhaps you should have told me that. It seems like dispensing clear information and instructions isn’t your forte.’, Freya said cheekily, crossing her arms. She immediately regretted her tone but stood her ground, waiting for the backlash.

  ‘Oh, is that so?’, Igwe replied, mirroring Freya’s attitude, ‘Well you don’t seem to have much gumption yourself, seeing how you can’t help but put yourself in danger constantly.’

  ‘Oh, so now it’s my fault that I am being chased by a dangerous criminal who escaped from your prison, under your nose, and for a reason you still haven’t explained to me?’, Freya scream-whispered, ‘Or that your own colleagues have conspired to have me thrown in jail or can’t even do their job properly? You said you were my chaperone, and that you were in charge of my safety, and yet—‘

  ‘I am a Lead Investigator at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I have other responsibilities than you!’, Igwe interjected, raising her voice and pointing aggressively at the badge on her chest, ‘My role is to chaperone and protect you until you enter Hogwarts, not to babysit you like a clueless—‘, she interrupted herself and gasped. There was a stunned silence.

  ‘Babysit me, uh ?’, Freya said bitterly. She felt her chest tighten with an unpleasant mix of sadness and anger. ’Excuse me.’, she said coldly, walking away.

  She marched toward an empty chair in the reception hall, determined to wait for the visiting hours, leaving Igwe alone in the corridor. She let herself fall on it, crossed her arms and legs, and wiped her humid eyes with her hand. Her disappointment was tremendous.  She remembered Elfia Campbell’s words… They had to babysit her. Was that all they thought of her? A clueless toddler whose every step had to be watched to prevent her from making stupid decisions? She suddenly felt painfully out of place, wanted by the ill-intentioned and rejected by the better-intentioned of this world she knew nothing about. All she wanted was to disappear. What was she here for? To be a prize and a burden at the same time? To be involved in a conflict she didn’t even understand? What did they even want from her?

  Freya sat for a few minutes, ruminating, brooding, curling up on herself as much as the uncomfortable chair allowed her to when she suddenly felt a presence next to her. She didn’t look up.

  ‘Miss Toscani. Can I sit next to you?’

  Freya recognized the green-eyed wizard’s voice. She glanced at him and nodded quickly. He grabbed a chair and sat with a groan. Freya looked over his shoulder and noticed Nephelia Igwe standing at the corner of the room, a sheepish look on her face.

  ‘Are you alright ?’, he asked gently. Freya did not know how to respond and shrugged. ‘You know… I know what you’re going through. It’s very difficult.’, he added.

  Freya felt all her frustration and anger boil up again. How could he know? Who was he to tell her that he knew what she was feeling? This man she knew nothing about and who knew nothing about her, who the fuck was he? Her nostrils flared and her her jaw contracted.

  ‘Oh, really ?’, she replied with a hint of sarcasm, without looking at him.

  ‘Yes, really. I know, and I understand.’, he replied compassionately. ‘By the way, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Harry Potter.’, he said with a kind smile, offering his open hand. Freya turned to look at him, took his hand, and shook it weakly. She noticed that every patient and visitor near them had turned to look at him as well. She frowned.

  ‘I think I’ve heard your name before.’, she said.

  ‘Have you ?’

  ‘Potter… I believe I heard Professor McGonagall mention you in the Minister’s office yesterday.’

  ‘Ah! Yes, that’s right, she had asked me to come and escort you home with Igwe. But unfortunately, I was here, in this very hospital to stay with my daughter who suffered a—‘

  ‘A broom injury. I remember.’, Freya said. The round-glassed wizard’s face brightened and he let out a chuckle, ‘Is she better now ?’, she added, calming down a little.

  ‘She’s had a difficult night. Having your bones repaired in twenty-four hours is very practical but not painless. But she will be as good as new by tomorrow. Thank you for asking.’

  ‘Are you an M.L.E.P agent too ?’

  ‘Not exactly, but we work very closely with them. I’m an Auror, among other things. I catch dark wizards, to put it simply.’

  Freya felt her irritation well up, once again. She joined her hands in front of her mouth, carefully weighing her words.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mister Potter, but could you — and all your colleagues— stop putting things simply? I am… tired of being treated like a child. I am an adult. With a functioning brain. I may be new to all of this, but I believe I have the necessary cognitive capacities to understand what I’m being told. And I am begging for any scrap of information. Pardon my French but, what the fuck is going on? I saw the information board, it mentioned a Breacher attack in London. Was that why you had to leave after the Healers arrived? Does it have anything to do with Tobias? Does it have anything to do with me? Please. Tell me. If you want me to work with you, you’ll have to work with me too.’

  Harry Potter stared at her and remained quiet, a keen glint in his eyes. He recoiled slightly, visibly surprised. He opened and closed his mouth several times, and a faint smile appeared at its corners. Suddenly, he slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up.

  ‘Alright. Come with me.’, he said enthusiastically. She stood up as well and was about to protest but he cut her off before she could say anything, ’Let’s find a more discreet place, shall we ?’ With a hand gesture, he hailed Nephelia Igwe who hurried behind them.

  They crossed several double doors in a seemingly endless corridor until they finally arrived in another building that very much looked like a regular, non-magical hospital. The walls were painted with a faded and nauseating green-blue hue, and the floor was covered with a worn-out linoleum that had bubbled up and raised here and there. Neon lights cast a strong white light above their heads, and the distinctive hospital smell of iodoform and cleaning products hit Freya’s nostrils.

  Harry Potter was walking fast before her and she struggled to keep up. His head was tucked into his shoulders that alternatively moved up and down to the rhythm of his long strides. His fists were closed and swung energetically around his thighs. He reminded her of a boxfighter about to enter a ring. Nephelia Igwe followed her with her rolling gait, her long braids swaying on her back. Freya could hear the tall witch's wide-heeled boots powerfully hit the floor at each of her steps, while the rubber soles of her own sandals squeaked irritatingly on the linoleum. Granted, Freya was short, but at this very moment, she felt particularly small between them. And frankly ridiculous.

  Potter stopped abruptly in front of a door and knocked three times. Freya’s heartbeat accelerated. A faint voice replied from inside the room.

  ‘Yes ?’

  He pushed the handle and five seconds later, the three of them found themselves around Nina’s bed who welcomed them with a bright smile, barely visible under the large cast on her nose.

  ‘How are you feeling, Miss Harker ?’, Harry Potter asked when the reunion’s effusions had settled down.

  ‘Well, I’d say I’m surprisingly good for someone who’s had half a dozen fractures. You might think about putting sweeteners in your potions because boy, they are disgusting, but other than that… The doctor said I could leave tonight and rest for the next two days!’, she replied, with an unexpectedly jolly tone Freya was not used to hearing from Nina.

  ‘Are you okay, Nin? Did they give you drugs or something ?’, Freya asked with a chuckle.

  ‘Yeah, I’m great !’, Nina replied, euphoric, ‘Oh my god, Frey, this is so cool !’

  Freya exchanged a quick confused glance with Potter and Igwe.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘All of this!’, she exclaimed, flailing her arms, ‘Frey, I keep thinking about what you did in the restaurant, goddamn, that was insane! You blasted that son of a bitch and he flew like a rag doll. I saw it right before I got blasted myself, then I hit a wall or something and I was out. And then we teleported, god! My bagel almost escaped, but that was brilliant! And then we arrived here and there’s all these people with wands and potions, and shit’s flying everywhere! If anyone had told me a week ago that all of this existed I would have told them to shut the fuck up and be a fucking weirdo somewhere else, but now that I’ve seen what I’ve seen !’

  Nina was unstoppable, she talked so much and so fast that she couldn’t be interrupted. Her undeniable talents for theatrics and impersonations turned her frenzied chatter into a hilarious one-woman show, which greatly helped lighten everyone’s mood.

  ‘And what about that cunt, by the way ?’, Nina finally asked, turning to Freya.

  ‘Who? Tobias ?’

  ‘Yes, Tobias! Who else? Is he dead?’

  ‘Er, no. He’s not dead. He’s very much alive, and he very much escaped.’ Harry Potter interjected, ‘Again.’, he added, looking down at his shoes.

  ‘What?!’, Nina exclaimed, outraged, ‘How is he not dead? It was like an atomic bomb she dropped on him back there!’

  Freya suddenly felt embarrassed and guilty. The thought of her being capable of destroying an entire room and almost killing two people in the process turned her stomach, and she even had trouble believing it herself. But Nina had a point.

  ‘Tobias Gaunt has managed to escape at Mickey’s.’, Potter continued, ‘He apparated in Picadilly Circus, where three of his acolytes were waiting for him. The plan was probably to take Miss Toscani’s wand and vanish into the non-magical world where it would be much harder to find and apprehend him. Except it didn’t go as planned, as you all know. When I alerted the M.L.E.P and Auror units, they immediately spread across the country, and two agents found him and his colleagues in SoHo. They attacked first, forcing our agents to fight back. In broad daylight. Gaunt was injured and wandless, but he could count on his two brutes to do the work for him and allow him to slip away, causing a lot of damage in their wake.’

  ‘Muggles ?’, Freya asked.

  ‘Yes. Around twenty of them have been injured and are currently treated here. The others had to be tracked down and obliviated.’

  Nina guffawed.

  ‘Ah ! I bet it’s already trending on Twitter by now !’, she exclaimed loudly.

  ‘Er, yes.’ Potter replied gravely, ‘At least seven Muggles have been reported filming the scene. Cellphones and social media are making the Breacher’s task considerably easier. And ours, tremendously harder. A team is on the case to find every video evidence and erase it from the internet. This will probably take several weeks. This attack was a godsend to them.’ He remained quiet for a few seconds and turned to Igwe, ‘Who did you say he disapparated with in SoHo?’

  ‘Delphini Riddle.’, Igwe replied gravely, ‘The wand we found is hers. She lent it to him. She’s one of her most faithful minions.’

  ‘Riddle. Interesting…’, Potter said, rubbing his chin.

  ‘I truly wonder…’, Freya started hesitantly, her throat tight with guilt and angst, ‘How… How did I not kill him?’

  ‘Did you have the intention to kill him when you cast that spell?’, Potter asked calmly, his hands in his pockets.

  ‘No !’, Freya replied vehemently, ‘I just wanted him to get away from us!’

  ‘Well, there you have it. The first thing you have to know about magic is that it’s all about intention. Your wand reacted to your intention. You wanted to blast him off, and so it did. To kill someone, you have to really, really mean it.’

  ‘But what if he snapped his neck or his spine in the shock? He could have died, even if it wasn’t my intention !’, Freya protested.

  ‘Oh, you think people like him don’t know what they’re doing? Tobias Gaunt has been through way worse than that, he knows how to protect himself. Don’t worry about him, he’s fine.’, Potter exclaimed sarcastically.

  ‘Are you for real, right now ?!’, Nina shouted angrily at Freya who recoiled in shock.

  ‘Wha—What do you mean ?’

  ‘After what he did to you, that’s all you’re worried about?! That you could’ve killed him?! That’s the least that shit stain deserves!’

  ‘I’m not a murderer, Nina, why would I want to kill hi—‘

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Frey! Maybe because he raped you?! Remember ?!’

  A deathly hush fell in the room and Freya stiffened, her eyes wide as dinner plates fixated on Nina.

  ‘He what ?’, Igwe spat, dumbstruck.

  Freya remained silent and turned so pale that she looked like she was about to collapse. The shame and terrible vulnerability she felt at this very moment were overwhelming, almost unbearable. Her hands started to shake uncontrollably and she hid them behind her back.

  ‘Miss Toscani…’, Igwe asked with a trembling voice, ‘Did he really— Oh Merlin! This is extremely serious, you have to tell us !’

  Freya opened her mouth.

  ‘I—… He—…’ Her diaphragm contracted and she gagged so violently that she had to bend over. She grabbed the kidney dish on the table next to Nina’s bed and threw up all the contents of her stomach inside.

  ‘Shit… Frey, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to—‘, Nina stammered sheepishly.

  Freya was standing awkwardly, with her teeth clattering and her dish full to the brim in her hands, not knowing what to do with it. The two wizards rushed next to her and Potter, with one wand movement, made the disgusting liquid disappear. They sat her on a chair found in the corridor and crouched next to her.

  Shell-shocked, Freya was staring into space, trying to understand what had just happened. Despite the circumstances, it was the right word for it. Rape. She had already formulated it in her head but had never heard it from someone else’s mouth. From the hazy shadow of a memory, a monstrous demon had suddenly taken form, only to punch her directly in the gut. What would happen if she told them? Would they even believe her?

  She took a deep, long breath.

  Fuck it.

  ‘I can’t prove it…’, Freya started with a wobbly voice, wiping her mouth and nose, ‘But the night he came to my house to try and steal my wand… I think he gave me a potion to—… To take advantage of me. I wasn’t in my normal state. He gave me a piece of cake he had baked and… I changed…’

  Igwe stood up abruptly, and piercing eyes fixated on her, her fists clenched.

  ‘Did you suddenly become obsessed with him?’, she asked, breathless. Freya looked up to her and nodded.

  ‘Oh my god…’, Igwe whispered, covering her face with her hands.

  ‘I’ve found a book in my Nana’s library… It talked about a potion named—

  ‘Amortentia.’, Igwe whispered, her yellow pupils shining with a furious intensity. ‘He did it again!!!’

Chapter Text

  The air in Nina’s hospital bedroom was so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Freya was crammed in her chair, white as a ghost. Nina was stuck in her bed, clueless and defeated, and Nephelia Igwe was pacing around the room, animated with a dull rage that made the neon lights flicker.

  ‘What do you mean, ‘again’?’, Potter asked, puzzled. Igwe ignored him and kneeled in front of Freya.

  ‘Listen to me.’, she said frantically, grabbing Freya’s hands. ‘The possession and use of Amortentia is a crime punishable by a very heavy prison sentence. Gaunt has been in and out of Azkaban for the last two years because of his supposed affiliation with the Breachers, but was always released after a few days for lack of proof. It’s like a game to him. Six months ago, he was incarcerated for attempted murder, after he managed to break into your grandmother’s house and tried to kill her. Unfortunately, he managed to get out. That’s when he came to assault you.’

  ‘He—He tried to kill her?’, Freya stammered, feeling her stomach contract again.

  ‘Yes, she was the one who sent him to Azkaban. He was supposed to stay there for a few years at least. But he was able to pull some strings and bail his way out after your grandmother’s passing. This man is extremely dangerous, and probably a very important piece in the Breacher’s game. He has to be stopped.’

  ‘You don’t say!’, Nina exclaimed from her bed while shoving crackers in her mouth, ‘This bitch needs to eat shite!’, she added with her mouth full. Harry Potter let out a high-pitched snicker.

  ‘So you believe me?’, Freya asked weakly.

  ‘Of course we do. He’s already done that in the past to manipulate people and get what he wants from them. Gaunt doesn’t need a wand to harm others. He’s an evil genius and a very powerful wizard.’

  ‘I heard he’s an excellent potion maker, too.’, Potter interjected.

  ‘Outstanding. He was the best in our—‘, Igwe coughed, ‘—er, his school years. Better than any student. Better than the teachers themselves. He would have been heading for a brilliant career if his—‘, she cleared her throat, ‘—If he hadn’t made the choices that he made.’

  The room fell silent for a short moment. Freya was confused as to what to do with those pieces of information.

  ‘You said this happened last week, right?’, Potter finally said.

  ‘Yes. But I don’t have any proof, I told you.’

  ‘You might have one. All we need is a single hair of yours. We’re just at the right place for that.’

***

  ‘Well. There it is.’, the Healer witch said with a shy smile as she entered the small waiting room of the hospital’s laboratory. She had dark and long straight hair, wide blue eyes, and wore a lime-green uniform. She handed a sheet of paper to Potter and Igwe.

  They both leaned forward and attentively read what was written on it. Nephelia Igwe’s eyes lit up with satisfaction and Potter let out an outraged groan.

  ‘My god!’, he whispered, his jaw clenched.

  ‘There’s your proof.’, Igwe said, passing the paper over to Freya who took it between her trembling hands. She read it, and let out a strangled sigh:

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: 27/08/2023

Chem Healer: Bell, Katie

Patient: Toscani, Freya Hestia

Age: 28

Sex: F

Category: Human - Witch

Sample: Hair

Length: 45cm - Length tested from the root: 16cm

Searched substances: Manipulation and free-will interfering potions

M.F.W.I.P………………………………………………………………………………………POSITIVE - ID : AMORTENTIA

Timeframe: 27/08/2022 - 27/08/2023.

In vitro test and sequence extraction showed 13 instances of M.F.W.I.P ingestion over the last 365 days.

First ingestion estimated: 02/12/2022.

Last ingestion estimated: 19/08/2023.

Precision: 99,99%.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Freya read the report several times. The rage she felt inside was immeasurable.

  She had been duped, cheated, manipulated, assaulted, broken. The proof was there, in front of her eyes. How was it humanely possible to do such harm to another human being? How could he live with himself? How could he look at himself in a mirror? Nina was right.     

  How did she not kill him?

  Because she was weak. Because she was scared to hurt even the person who almost took the life of two of her most precious loved ones; the person who destroyed her soul.

  Because she wasn’t like him. And she loathed herself for it at this very moment.

  He had something she didn’t. Hatred. The most powerful and destructive of weapons. She could never win. The fight wasn’t equal.

  She repressed tears while Igwe and Potter chatted vividly with the Healer above her head, and read the report once again, paying particular attention to the dates this time.

  ‘The 2^nd of December…’, she whispered pensively. ‘Oh, god…’

  ‘Have you been able to identify the brewer?’, Igwe asked, agitated.

  ‘The only information we have is that the brewer is a male.’ The Healer turned to Freya who jumped lightly, ‘As you know, the brewer had to add a lock of his hair or a few drops of his blood to the composition for the potion to work in his favor.’ Freya pretended to know and nodded quickly, ‘But he was clever enough to make his potion as efficient and long-lasting as possible, even when given in very small quantities. His DNA extracts alone were unexploitable, unfortunately. Even if they were compared with another DNA sample.’

  Freya saw Igwe pinch her lips in frustration.

  ‘That sounds like him…’, she mumbled.

  ‘Thank you for your help, Katie.’, Potter said to the Healer with a contained smile.

  ‘No need to thank me. Let me know if you need anything else.’, she replied kindly before leaving the room.

  Potter and Igwe turned toward Freya, who had become pale again.

  ‘He’s been manipulating you from the beginning, you have proof of it, now.’, Igwe said, grabbing her arm comfortingly.

  Freya lowered her head. She knew she should have been at least relieved to have her suspicions confirmed, but her stomach contracted unpleasantly and a new wave of anxiety took over her.

  ‘He didn’t give me the potion right away.’, Freya said in a whisper.

  ‘What’s that?’

  Freya hesitated. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t handle it now. She wiped her humid eyes and faked a smile.

  ‘Nothing. I was just… Thinking out loud.’, she let out. She folded the paper and slid it into her small handbag. She thanked the two wizards and promptly asked to go back to Nina’s room.

***

  ‘You’re going home with me tonight, and you will stay there until you’re better.’, Freya said to Nina once she was next to her bed again.

  ‘We’ll stay with you until you’re both safe.’, Potter said, ‘But we can’t risk exposing you to danger again, not after what happened. Passing through the Ole Cooking Pot is way too risky, and your chimney is disconnected. We have no choice but to apparate. Igwe, can you take us to Miss Toscani’s house?’

  Igwe nodded and helped Freya pull Nina out of her bed. She walked with difficulty but was able to stand on her own. A Healer wizard was waiting for them outside of the room to escort them to the check-out desk. As they made their way through the endless corridors, Igwe got close to Freya.

  ‘Miss Toscani…’, she started softly, almost whispering, ‘I shouldn’t have said what I’ve said earlier. I didn’t mean it. You were right, I have been too negligent. We didn’t… I didn’t protect you as I should have. I—… I apologize. Sincerely.’

  Freya turned to her and her face brightened.

  ‘I think everyone’s a little overwhelmed by the situation. I don’t blame you, Miss Igwe.’, she replied with a smile imbued with sadness. Igwe smiled back and opened her blazer. She reached for her inside pocket and took Freya’s wand out of it.

  ‘Please, call me Nephelia.’, she said as she handed her the wand.

  Freya took it and her smile widened.

  ‘Call me Freya.’

  When every document was signed at the check-out, the Healer wizard took them to the Dispparating area, and gave them a shimmery blanket similar to the one Nina was covered with when they arrived at St-Mungo’s.

  ‘What’s that blanket for?’, Freya asked.

  ‘Muggles aren’t magical beings, and as such, apparating isn’t something they can do — sorry, Miss Harker.’, Potter explained like a teacher, ‘Well… They can, but their bodies cannot handle it as well as magical people’s bodies can. You’re at a much higher risk of suffering life-long injuries. Even losing limbs… or even half of your body. Or even disintegrating entirely.’, Freya and Nina’s face contorted in a disgusted rictus, ‘That’s what the cloak’s for! To create a magic protection around you to prevent this kind of incident.’, he added while throwing it over Nina’s head. The cloak tightened itself around Nina’s body and Freya couldn’t help but snort at the sight of her friend looking like a human-sized dried sausage.

  ‘The trip might be a little more rocky than when you were in your stretchers, ladies. Hold on to each other. Keep your arms and legs tight. You do not want to lose one of those along the way either.’, Potter announced like a plane pilot to Freya, ‘Miss Harker, do you allow me to hold you as well, to prevent you from falling or harming yourself? Igwe has to focus on our transportation.’

  ‘If it’s so nicely asked, then I shall allow it.’ Nina said, her voice muffled by the fabric.

  ‘Good. Are we ready?’

  ‘I’m ready.’, Igwe said.

  ‘Ready.’, Freya and Nina said in unison. Igwe put one hand on Harry Potter’s shoulder and the other on Freya’s, and half a second later, they were lifted in the air and spiraling into a distorted vortex.

  A deafening CRACK! was heard on Birdbush Road, as four people suddenly appeared on the asphalt, in the middle of the road. Freya and Nina almost fell backward, but Potter caught them just in time.

  ‘Fuck! That was amazing!’, Nina exclaimed, ecstatic, struggling to free herself from the blanket. Freya was dizzy and hiccuped several times. Wands out, Igwe and Potter immediately scoped the surroundings in search of any pair of eyes or unwanted presence. Any witness would be immediately obliviated.

  ‘You’ve really got to learn how to do this Frey!’, Nina said excitedly, ‘Do you realize how convenient this is for traveling? We could go on vacation for free! No more tickets, no more gas to pay! Ugh ! I can’t wait!’

  But Freya wasn’t listening. They had apparated in front of the neighboring house, and she was marching toward hers, breathless.

  No… No !

  Igwe’s distressed voice was heard behind her.

  ‘Oh no… Freya, stay where you are!’

  Harry Potter and Nina quickly joined Freya and stared at the desolate scene.

  The front gate was destroyed. The two living room windows were wide open and little to no glass remained between the lead lattice. The front door wasn’t there anymore and pieces of glass from the blown-up canopy covered the porch stairs.

  ‘Oh my god…’, Nina let out, wrapping her arms around Freya to pull her toward her.

  ‘I’m going inside. You two stay here with Igwe.’, Potter said as he ran toward the house. He quickly climbed up the stairs and took his wand out. Freya saw him disappear through the dark frame of what was once her front door.

  ‘They broke the protection charm. It must have required very powerful magic to do so. This is very concerning.’ Nephelia whispered as she stepped in front of Nina and Freya. ‘Better not expose ourselves while we wait here. They could still be around.’, she added hastily while casting an invisibility spell on the three of them.

  ‘He did this.’, Freya spat, distraught, ‘He couldn’t get the wand, so he retaliated.’

  The next five minutes were excruciating. A million questions flew through Freya’s mind while she, Nina, and Nephelia waited in silence for Harry Potter to come back out.

  Finally, a black-haired head and an arm appeared through the doorframe, indicating that the place was clear. Nephelia reversed the spell and Freya ran to join Potter inside.

  The house was devasted. The floor was covered with pieces of broken objects, the wallpaper was torn off the walls, and furniture was turned over and seemed to have been thrown across the kitchen and living room. Here and there, black calcinated spots were visible on the walls. Potter passed his fingers on one of them.

  ‘They tried to set the house on fire, but it resisted. That’s incredible protection magic.’, Potter said gravely with a hint of admiration.

  Freya raised her eyes. A multitude of objects were floating in the air, frozen in time and space.

  ‘The house defended itself.’, she whispered.

  ‘Pardon?’, Potter asked, but Freya didn’t reply and ran upstairs. The first floor was in the same condition. Ruined, destroyed. She immediately looked at the ceiling. The hatch didn’t seem to have been opened. She stepped over the broken picture frames and dozens of clothes scattered on the floor, passed in front of her grandmother’s bedroom, and saw that it had been completely ransacked. Here too, objects floated in the air, immobilized in their race toward the enemy. She continued toward her bedroom. It had suffered the same fate. All her belongings were shattered and scattered on the floor, her mattress had been cut open and emptied. Her notebooks and pictures had been torn and partially burned. She flinched when she heard a ruffling noise coming from under her desk. Instinctively, she drew her wand out of her pocket and pointed it in front of her. It was burning. Slowly, carefully, she approached the source of the noise. Something was moving. Freya gulped but kept moving closer. Her knocked-over desk chair blocked her view. Brandishing her wand, she violently pulled it aside and gasped.

  It took her brain a few seconds to register and understand what was happening in front of her. During her very short time on the magical side of the world, she had eventually become used to seeing extraordinary things, but watching a photo album shiver in fear while hiding under a desk to protect itself was definitely not on her bingo card. She blinked several times, rubbed her eyes, and finally crouched to grab it. Weirdly enough, the object seemed to recognize her and relaxed a little when she held it against her. It was the photo album that had flown toward her a few days ago, when she had awoken the house and discovered her Nana’s secret room. She had taken it in her bedroom and left it next to her bed, promising herself to look at its pictures every night. She gently rubbed its cover and opened it. The photos were all there and untouched. She let out a long relieved sigh as she watched her ten-year-old mother wave at her, beaming in a green sundress with flowers in her hair. Finally, she closed it and held it tightly against her chest. She turned around and saw Nina standing in the doorframe, defeated.

  ‘What in the fuck is this?’, she said, looking at the wall in front of her.

  Freya followed her gaze and her heart skipped a beat. Written in large, black bold letters on the wall above her bed, was a single word:

  SLUT

Chapter Text

  Freya was staring blankly at the line of three-story brick houses in front of her. The sky above her head was taking a dark and menacing grey hue, and a chilling breeze announced imminent rain. The large square around them was completely deserted. Her backpack weighed painfully on her shoulders, and she struggled to drag her bulky suitcase on the paved road. Nina was walking next to her, only carrying the duffle bag she had taken with her to visit Freya the day before. Luckily for her, it had been spared by the intruders. Freya hadn’t been this fortunate. Her only salvageable clothes and belongings, she carried on herself at this moment. The rest had been smashed, ripped to shreds, or burned.

  There she was. She had finally reached it. The point of numbness. She had been violated in every aspect of her intimacy, had lost almost everything and yet, no tears came out this time; just emptiness and a vague feverish headache.

  She had trouble understanding how her life had taken such a drastic and brutal turn, and she held every magical person around her responsible for it, including her grandmother. Her confusion and panic had slowly but surely been replaced by a dull and constant resentment for which she had absolutely no guilt. She felt like she had been set up, and her bitterness was perfectly legitimate to her. There was nothing she could do, however. The only solutions she had were the ones being presented to her, and she had to stick with them for the time being.

  ‘This is it. This is where you’re going to spend the rest of the week until you enter Hogwarts.’, Harry Potter said as they stopped between houses number 11 and 13 in Grimmauld Square. ‘You’ll be more than safe here.’

  Freya didn’t even bother turning her head.

  ‘Are you sure? I’ve already been told this before and, well…’, she replied calmly.

  ‘For real.’, Nina added, nodding slowly.

  Potter cleared his throat and Igwe pinched her lips.

  ‘Where is the twelfth house?’, Freya asked, frowning.

  ‘Right there.’

  Instantly, a rumble rose around them, and the bricked wall between the numbers 11 and 13 seemed to widen. Soon, an old dark door appeared, followed by windows —two on each floor—, and a black and high fence. Freya and Nina opened wide mouths as they watched a whole new building appear out of nowhere, while no one inside the neighboring houses seemed to notice.

  ‘How—‘, Freya started.

  ‘Holy shit.’, Nina muttered

  A long series of metal clinking was heard from behind the door, and stopped when what sounded like a large and heavy chain fell on the floor.

  ‘After you.’, Potter said, extending his arm toward the porch stairs.

  The two friends exchanged an incredulous look and hesitantly stepped forward. Nina grabbed one of the handles of Freya’s suitcase and helped her carry it to the top of the stairs. Freya stopped in front of the door and raised her hand to grab the handle that looked like an incredibly realistic snake. She hesitated and turned to look at Potter and Igwe.

  ‘Come in. It’s open.’, Potter said with a light smile.

  Freya pushed the door and found herself in a long, narrow, and dark corridor. An old and dirty dark green wallpaper ornated the walls, and fancy black and white tiles that seemed to not have been washed in decades covered the floor. In front of them, at the end of the corridor, sat a black and wide wooden staircase. Intricate black panelling covered the ceiling and gas lights cast a dim white light on this macabre decor.

  ‘Oh, I forgot!’, Potter said hastily as he quickly made his way toward a large painting flanked by a heavy black curtain on the wall on their right, ‘Please do not mind the screaming.’ Freya and Nina didn’t even have the time to ask questions before a piercing scream rose and filled the entire hallway.

  ‘Vermin! Filthy scum! How dare you step foot in my ancestors’ house and befoul it! Mudbloods!’, Harry Potter was struggling to pull a heavy curtain, covering what appeared to be a portrait. From what Freya could see, an old and disheveled woman was standing in the frame, throwing her fists in the air and pulling on her hair in a fit of rage. She turned her horribly deformed face toward her and Nina, and the insufferable shrieking intensified, ‘Ah! Muggles! Muggles! You wretched, miserable freaks! How dare you! You vile sub-breed! Begone! Out of this noble place before you soil every inch of it!’

  Finally, the curtain yielded and Harry Potter yanked it so hard the rod almost fell off the wall, effectively silencing the screams.

  ‘Sorry about that. The previous owners, see? Not the most welcoming people.’, Harry Potter let out with a chuckle, replacing his round glasses on his nose. ‘Follow me.’

  Freya and Nina followed on his heels, too stunned to say anything and sliding against the wall to remain as far as possible from the portrait. They turned to their left and found themselves in a wide rectangular room where a massive table sat, surrounded by what seemed like at least two dozen chairs.

  ‘Is this—Is this your house?’, Freya finally asked after dropping her backpack on the ground.

  ‘Er… Sort of. It belonged to one of my relatives. He passed a long time ago, unfortunately. But he left this house to me, and I use it as a safe place in, er… In situations like yours, for example. Are you hungry?’

  Freya was starving but felt utterly unable to eat anything. She turned to Nina.

  ‘Are you?’, she asked her.

  ‘I don’t really know.’, Nina replied in an empty voice. Visibly, Nina was in the same state. Potter turned to Nephelia, who nodded yes.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but Nina suddenly jumped so high and so abruptly that she almost fell. Hanging onto the gigantic dresser, she was pointing at something toward the floor.

  ‘What is this?!’, she shouted. Freya turned her head and jumped too. A creature not taller than a four-year-old child, but that seemed very old, with bat-like ears and a bulbous, snot-like nose stared at them, a nasty look in his little blood-shot eyes.

  ‘A muggle?!’, the creature shrieked, now pointing at Nina, ‘The Master has brought a muggle into the noble and ancient house of Black?! Oh! Master, no!’, he cried in a hoarse voice while painfully climbing onto the table to escape Nina as if she were a terrible monster.

  ‘Kreacher.’, Potter said firmly, ‘She is our guest, and you will treat her with the respect she deserves.’, Kreacher whimpered and withered as if he were in horrible pain.

  ‘Master! Oh! What kind of respect does a filthy muggle deserve?’, he whined pathetically as he fell to his knees, his long and gnarled hands joined in front of his chest.

  ‘The same respect you’d give to any witch or wizard. Do not call her filthy!’

  The creature’s cries intensified.

  ‘Oh! The Master is asking too much of a poor old house elf like Kreacher!’

  ‘Do as I say, Kreacher.’, Potter said imperatively. Almost instantly, the cries stopped and Kreacher stood back on his disproportionately long feet.

  ‘Yes, Master.’, he said in a resigned tone, bowing so low his forehead almost touched the table.

  ‘I’d like you to prepare a little something to eat for our three guests. With a teapot and four cups, please.’

  Kreacher bowed once again and, turning to Nina to give her a disgusted look, disappeared in a crack.

  When everyone was seated around one of the extremities of the table, sharing a delicious roasted chicken with pan-fried potatoes, the atmosphere lightened a little. Though Freya thought she wouldn’t be able to swallow anything, the dish was so good, and her body so hungry that she devoured her entire plate in record time.

  Nephelia had remained resolutely quiet during the whole meal, her face in her plate, while Potter answered every question that came to the two friends’ minds.

  ‘We’ve sealed your house and have applied a new disillusionment charm.’, he said as he was sipping on his tea, ‘This way, no one will not be able to see your house in its current state. It will appear to them as perfectly normal and untouched. Other than your wand, do you know if there’s something else they might have been looking for?’, he asked Freya, leaning back on his chair, his piercing green eyes fixated on her.

  Freya shook her head no.

  ‘I have no idea. All I know is that my grandmother’s secret room was untouched. Whatever they might have wanted to find, it would have probably been in there. But they missed it.’, she replied gravely.

  ‘Mmmh.’, Potter groaned, scratching his scruffy mass of hair, ‘That’s a good thing.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s possible that Tobias did this just to get revenge? Because I lied to him?’

  ‘He wouldn’t stoop that low. That’s not his style.’, Nephelia said suddenly, breaking her hours-long silence, ’What are you doing?’, she asked, staring at Nina sitting across from her. Nina was typing something on her phone under the table. She only raised her eyes and stared back at Nephelia through her eyebrows.

  ‘Sending an e-mail.’, she replied insolently. Nina had regained her habitual attitude and Freya felt weirdly happy about it. ‘Am I not allowed to send an e-mail?’

  ‘Who are you talking to?’, Nephelia replied inquisitively.

  ‘I don’t see how that would be your concern.’, Nina said calmly while resuming her typing.

  ‘Oh, but it is. Shall I remind you that you’re under magical oath and in a dangerous situation, and therefore should have minimal communication with the outside? You could reveal extremely sensitive information without even knowing it. We've told you that in the hospital already.’, Nephelia replied, containing her irritation.

  Nina’s eyes narrowed, and she tossed her phone on the table.

   ‘Oh, and how exactly am I supposed to tell my boss I won’t be there next week and give instructions to my subordinates? By sending them a fucking pigeon? How am I supposed to communicate with my brother, eh? As far as I know, we haven’t developed telepathic skills yet. Or should I disappear completely and let everyone believe I’ve been abducted and murdered, perhaps? You tell me!’

  ‘Just stop. Using. Your phone. It’s an order.’, Nephelia replied imperatively, leaning forward on the table. Nina crossed her arms and flared her nostrils. Freya knew what was coming and immediately regretted rejoicing. Ever since their first encounter, relations had remained tense between her friend and Nephelia, and she knew Nina had been waiting for the right moment to strike. She turned to her to put her hands on her shoulders and calm her down, but it was already too late and Nina stood up abruptly, pointing a slim and accusatory finger at Nephelia.

  ‘Just because you were incapable of doing your job properly doesn’t give you the right to try and save the shreds of dignity you have left by controlling me.’, she spat between her clenched teeth. Nephelia’s eyes widened and her mouth contracted in a furious frown. Harry Potter stood up in his chair and raised his arms appeasingly.

  ‘Okay, okay, let’s not—‘, he started, but Nephelia had also stood up, pointing her finger at Nina.

  ‘You are the one who put Freya —and yourself— in danger by refusing to go home when you were told Gaunt was roaming free. Of course, I am not going to trust you one bit with your decisions. I am watching you very closely, Harker, believe me. All of this happened because of you! Remember, you’re only here because Freya wanted it, and you are lucky I have not obliviated and sent you home by now.’, she replied, her lips curled on her teeth.

  ‘What difference would it have made?!’, Nina exclaimed, flailing her arms, ‘He’d have come to the house and destroyed it anyway!’, she leaned forward and got in Nephelia’s face, ‘And you’d still have arrived too-fucking-late.’ Nephelia slowly shoved her hand inside her blazer, ready to draw her wand out, ‘By the way, you seem to know a lot about him, this Tobias Gaunt, and weirdly enough he keeps escaping you.’ Nina added, a cheeky look on her face.

  ‘Shut up. Stop talking. You know nothing!’, Nephelia growled, her yellow eyes gleaming with fury, but Nina continued:

  ‘Quite odd, isn’t it? It’s almost like you’re allowing all of this to happen. Maybe you’re the one who can’t be trusted.’

  ‘Miss Harker, stop it!’, Potter shouted while banging his fist on the table, bringing back immediate silence. Freya had remained seated, her face buried in her hands. Nina let herself fall back in her chair, a scornful look on her face.

  Shaking, Nephelia gave Nina one last infuriated look, then skirted around the table and left the dining room. The deafening silence was only broken by the loud slamming of a door further down the corridor. Freya’s face was burning with embarrassment. She parted her fingers to look in Harry Potter’s direction and saw that his piercing gaze was fixated on Nina. Several long seconds passed in complete, heavy silence. Finally, he took a deep breath and stood up.

  ‘I think you two should get some rest. Have as much sleep as you can. You need to regain strength and—‘, he glanced at Nina, ‘a bit of clarity.’ Nina held his gaze but said nothing, ‘I’ll show you to your bedroom. It’s very comfy, you’ll see.’, he said, walking back to the entrance corridor.

  Without a word, the two friends stood up and picked up their bags. Freya’s eyes were tingling with exhaustion. Potter led them to the massive staircase.

  ‘It’s on the second floor. Here, let me help you out with that.’, he said with a forced light tone as he waved his wand and lifted Freya’s enormous suitcase in the air, making it float behind them.

  If the ground floor already appeared outrageously luxurious to Freya, the first floor was unlike anything she had ever seen. Every inch of the rooms and corridors was lavishly decorated with ornate rugs, exquisitely crafted furniture, paintings in rich wooden and metallic frames, and intricately molded ceilings. A glass double door on their left opened on a wide room where a massive black fireplace sat proudly between two dark green Victorian loveseats. Medieval tapestries covered the high walls between the beautifully carved brass gas lamps and candelabras. The ensemble had a general dark green and blue hue that gave the whole floor a gothic atmosphere that Freya found equally creepy and appealing.

 The second floor was very similar to the first one. Richly decorated with the same dark and gothic atmosphere. Potter led them to a door at the end of the corridor on their left and opened it. Freya and Nina found themselves in the biggest bedroom they had ever seen. A massive four-poster bed with dark green shimmery covers and what looked like dozens of pillows took almost all the back wall’s length, and two leather armchairs surrounded a small mahogany coffee table. The walls were black, ornate with a black patterned wallpaper above black paneling. A high and large family portrait sat above the wrought-iron fireplace. A tall man with a thin mustache and a black waistcoat stood next to a woman of cold and dark beauty. Her hair was tied up in a high Victorian bun and two strands fell on each side of her thin and regular face. Her light and hard eyes stared haughtily at the viewer. Between them were two teenage boys, both wearing black hooded cloaks. A green and grey crest, in which a snake was clearly visible, sat on the shortest boy’s chest, who had the same arrogant look as his mother. The tallest one, however, was partially hidden by his brother’s shoulder. His black hair was long, which contrasted with the strictness of the rest of his family, and his fine and beautiful features seemed tainted with sadness.

  ‘This is your bedroom. I assumed you’d want to sleep in the same bed, but if not, there’s another bedroom on the other side of the corridor.’, Potter said calmly, gently dropping Freya’s suitcase at the foot of the bed.

  ‘No, that’s perfect, Mr Potter. Thank you.’, Freya said gently, struggling to take her eyes off of the portrait. Potter noticed it and turned to look at it as well.

  ‘The latest members of the Black family. Orion and Walburga Black and their two sons, Regulus and…’ Potter pinched his lips, ‘Sirius.’

  ‘What a charming family.’ Nina said ironically, her fists on her hips. Potter sighed and walked back toward the corridor.

  ‘I have to go now. Igwe will stay with you for the night. I’ve also asked Kreacher to prepare a few things if you’re ever hungry during the night. Help yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow.’, he said with a kind smile.

  ‘Sirius...', Freya whispered pensively as she detailed the young man's features. She could swear she had already seen him somewhere. She shook her head. 'Er, thank you… Thank you so much, Mr. Potter.’, she said hastily.

  ‘Yes… Thank you.’, Nina said behind Freya. Potter’s eyes lightened.

  ‘My pleasure.’, he said softly, ‘Oh!’, he pointed his finger toward Nina, ’Don’t worry about your boss, it’s already taken care of. Good night!’, he exclaimed as he disappeared in the corridor, closing the door behind him.

  The soft click of the lock echoed in Freya's head. She knew she'd remember that image, and that sound for the rest of her life, and she understood. Something had ended. Her life as she knew it had ended. She had entered that room, leaving her old self on the threshold, and Harry Potter had closed the door on her.

  There was nothing she could do to find her back. It was over. 

  Freya stood there, silent. She felt empty, void, dissociated.

  What's a baby's very first feeling when it's born? Is it pain? Surprise? Fear? Stress? Relief, perhaps? One would expect to experience wonderful emotions when given the opportunity to be reborn, but Freya was forced to admit that her own rebirth was rather underwhelming.

  Dejection. That's the very first thing she felt, and it materialized in a long and heavy sigh. 

  'Are you alright, Frey?', Nina asked, putting her hand on Freya's shoulder. 

  Nina's voice grated in her ears like chalk on a whiteboard. Without a word, she walked toward the adjoining bathroom. The gas lamps lit up when she stepped foot in it, and she discovered a wide and rectangular room with forest-green tiles covering the walls and a large free-standing copper bathtub at the end of it.

  Yes. That's what she needed. Water, and silence.

  Slowly, she took her clothes off and found herself naked, standing on the cold tile floor. She had to pass in front of the black marble double washbasin and the massive mirror hung above it to reach the bathtub. She hesitated. What was she going to find if she looked in the mirror? Did she really want to know? She took two steps forward. She could now discern her blurred silhouette in her peripheral vision. She exhaled slightly, relieved to know that she still had a body. Slowly, she turned to her right, and faced the mirror.

  She let out a gasp. 

  The first thing she noticed was her bruises. They were everywhere. On her arms, her wrists, her hips, her chest, her thighs, and they all flared up at the same time. Suddenly, Freya's whole body became sore and painful. That was the second feeling. Pain. She looked away from the red marks and detailed the rest of her body.

  The gracious curves of her hips seemed to have lost their plumpness and to rest painfully on her hipbones. Her small and beautifully rounded belly had sunk inside her ribcage, which was more apparent than ever, painfully hollowing her waist. The skin of her chest seemed to struggle to carry the weight of her breasts. The blue trails of her veins appeared everywhere, like hundreds of snakes sliding under her diaphanous skin. Her throat tightened and tears welled up in her eyes. She leaned forward to take a closer look at her face.

  No matter how hard she tried, she had trouble recognizing herself. It was her, but someone else at the same time. Her cheeks, usually full, now appeared hollowed. Her eyes seemed to have sunk in their sockets, and their hazel color had taken a muddy grey hue. In fact, it looked like everything in her had turned grey, from her skin to her hair, which fell miserably on her shoulders and chest. Even the gracious waves of her chestnut mane had disappeared. She had lost all her colors, all her fullness. She was just a shadow of herself.

  Tears fell down her cheeks.

  The third feeling. Sadness.

  Finally, when she couldn't take it anymore, she turned away from the mirror and turned the bathtub snake-shaped faucet on. She filled it entirely with warm, steaming water, then she stepped in the bathtub. Slowly, she sat in it, feeling the warm water tingle her skin and envelop her completely. She inhaled deeply and sunk herself entirely.

  Finally.

  Silence.

Chapter Text

  Freya slept a heavy, silent sleep that night.

  She opened her eyes slowly, scoping her surroundings until she finally remembered where she was. A timid ray of sunshine peered through the black bedroom’s half-closed blinds, lighting up the small dust particles floating peacefully in the air. It had been more than a week since the sun hadn’t appeared behind the heavy mass of clouds. Freya lay in bed for a moment, observing this serene ballet, appreciating this small gift the day had decided to give her.

  Maybe it wasn’t all that bad, after all.

  Nina was still asleep. The bruises on her face, still of a deep purple color the night before had already taken a faded green tone. She was healing fast.

  She looked for her phone in her handbag. 8:07. She scrolled through her notifications and read the few texts from her various group chats. Nothing alarming. No one knew what was going on and no one was worrying. Freya exhaled in relief.

  She pushed the covers and got up. She quietly searched through her suitcase and passed on a simple dress and a light sweater. She made a quick trip to the bathroom and glanced at herself in the mirror on her way out.

  To her surprise, the full night of sleep seemed to have brought back a bit of color to her skin. Her eyes didn’t look as sunken as they were the night before, and her bruises appeared less visible. She moved around and noticed her body wasn’t aching anymore. She felt strangely good, actually. Her grogginess had disappeared too, and her mind was sharper and more alert than she’d have expected. She took a step back and observed herself from afar. She looked different, somehow. She couldn’t pinpoint what, but something had changed.

  ‘Oh, well.’, she whispered to herself, dispelling the idea with a gesture of her hand.

  Peering one last time at the family portrait, she made her way out of the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as she could, and went down the stairs.

  She arrived on the first floor and popped her head inside the large reception room in hopes of seeing someone, but it was empty.

  The room was even larger than she imagined. In the light of day, she could now see every little detail: the paintings, the lavish decor, the collection objects, and the snakes… They were everywhere. She hesitated, considering roaming the house to visit each floor and every room. Her curious and aesthete nature pushed her to explore and feed her endlessly hungry mind.

  Later.

  She had to find Nephelia. Reluctantly, she pulled herself from her observation and trotted down the last flight of stairs. She crossed the corridor and stopped at the large dining room entrance. Nephelia was there, sitting on the same chair as the night before, sipping on her coffee with a paper journal laid on the table in front of her.

  ‘Hi, Nephelia.’, Freya said with a smile. The witch, who had wrapped her long braids into a beautiful yellow and golden scarf and wore a satin mauve kimono, raised her head and smiled brightly at her.

  ‘Freya!’, she exclaimed, ‘How did you sleep last night? You look rather refreshed!’

  ‘Surprisingly well… What about you?’ Nephelia tilted her head and scrunched her face.

  ‘I’ve had better nights.’, she said softly while folding the paper journal. Freya pinched her lips.

  ‘Yeah… I—I’m really sorry about what happened with Nina last night.’, Freya said appeasingly, ‘She’s, erm… She’s quite upset by this whole situation too, and—‘

  ‘You don’t need to be sorry. I understand.’, she interjected with a soft smile. ‘I’d find me suspicious too if I were her. She has every reasons to.’

  Freya stared at her in silence, one hand on the chair she was about to pull to sit on it.

  ‘What do you mean? Why?’, she asked, confused and a little weary.

  Nephelia lowered her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. She thought for a few seconds, then turned her yellow pupils to Freya again.

  ‘I’m afraid you won’t like my answer, Freya.’

  ‘What I like or don’t like didn’t prove to be very important so far, don’t you think?’, Freya replied sternly. Nephelia pinched her lips and nodded slowly, ‘So. What do you mean?’

   Nephelia looked at the beautiful golden watch wrapped around her wrist, then clicked her tongue.

  ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone this conversation to another time.’, she said softly, almost sheepishly. Freya threw her arms in the air.

  ‘Oh, for fuck's sake!’, she exclaimed.

  ‘I told you you wouldn’t like my answer…’

  ‘Why?! Why do you keep doing this?!’

  ‘You have visitors coming in half an hour. Miss Harker and you need to be ready.’, Nephelia replied appeasingly.

  ‘Wha—Visitors? Who?’

  ‘You’ll see. All I can say is that you will get some answers to your questions today. Hurry and wake Miss Harker. Breakfast is about to be served.’

  Fifteen minutes later, Freya and Nina were back in the dining room, dressed and tidied up, swallowing the copious breakfast prepared by the old Kreacher as fast as they could. When they were finished, they gathered their plates and cups intending to bring them to the kitchen, but the house elf flailed his long hands with an incoherent groan and made them disappear from their hands in a snap.

  Freya was strangely nervous, as if she was about to go on stage.

  ‘Okay, sit tight.’, Nephelia said hastily, seemingly in a very similar state of agitation, ‘They’ll be here very shortly.’ She stood, rather awkwardly, in the dining room’s door frame, her eyes fixated on the entrance door.

  Nina, however, was completely relaxed and did not seem to worry about this reunion at all.

  ‘Who’s coming?’, she whispered in Freya’s ear.

  ‘No idea.’, Freya whispered back, giving Nina a slightly frightened look.

  Suddenly, the metallic clinking of the entrance door’s countless locks was heard. Freya sat up on her chair, and Nephelia rushed to the door to open it.

  A firm and feminine voice, endowed with a Scottish accent that Freya recognized immediately suddenly rose in the hallway.

  ‘Good morning, Igwe.’

  Freya stood up from her chair so fast she almost knocked it over. Nina followed.

  A tall and stern-looking woman, her long grey hair tied behind her head in a French bun and dressed in a long and elegant black robe, entered the dining room. Her sharp gaze met Freya’s eyes.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Toscani.’, she said gently with a light bow while a growing choir of masculine voices could be heard behind her.

  ‘Professor…’, Freya was about to say her name but suddenly got scared to mispronounce it and interrupted herself. She bowed as well and watched as the room, so empty and silent a few seconds ago, abruptly filled with animation.

  One after another, four men entered the dining room. Harry Potter appeared first, a large smile on his face. He was wearing a dark uniform, with a black shirt under a dark grey waistcoat, black pants, leather gloves, and boots. A golden ‘M’ sat on the left side of his chest. Around his shoulders and chest was a black leather holster in which he kept his wand under his left arm, and a set of unidentified objects under his right arm, just in the crease of his waist. The fitted ensemble looked extremely refined and made him look elegant. And frankly impressive.

  ‘Hello, ladies!’, he exclaimed joyfully, his smile pleating the corner of his eyes in a multitude of small lines behind his round glasses. Freya felt weirdly happy to see him.

  He was followed by a thin and much younger wizard, maybe even younger than Freya herself, who wore the same uniform. He was a bit shorter than Harry Potter and his hair was a bright teal-ish blue color. A high-pitched giggle escaped his mouth when he entered the room. The third man, who looked about the same age as Potter, was taller than the first two and his build was bulkier. A tousled mass of bright red hair sprinkled with a bit of white covered his head, and a constellation of freckles covered his long pointed nose, as well as the rest of the visible parts of his body. He wore a green shirt loosely tucked in rather worn-out blue jeans. He smirked lightly and bowed rapidly at Freya and Nina while the other two kept on bantering. By the looks of his broody expression, the joke that had just been made didn’t make him laugh as much as his colleagues.

  Finally, the fourth man appeared. This one didn’t smile at all. He was as tall as the red-haired man, but his svelteness and the stately way he held himself made him look longer. He was pale, and his hair was a bright blond, almost white color and neatly cut, bringing out a pointed and bony face. While the others showed a stubble, he was close-shaven, and his black suit was perfectly bespoke and pleatless. The very pronounced creases between his white eyebrows, and the two lines around his mouth that went all the way above his nostrils gave him a constant expression of disgust.

  Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat and the silence came back. Everyone seemed to stand on attention.

  ‘Miss Toscani. I am glad to see you again.’, she said calmly to Freya, ‘Alive.’ She turned toward Nina, ’And you are Miss Nina Harker, I presume.’

  ‘Yes.’, Nina said, almost timidly.

  ‘Very well. I’m glad you’re alive too. I am Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, Great Britain’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’. Nina acquiesced without a word. McGonagall turned toward the men behind her and presented them in the order in which they came in.

  ‘You already know Harry Potter, of course. He’s an Auror. Aurors are employed by the Ministry of Magic to investigate crimes related to the Dark Arts. Dark magic, if you will. Magic used with rather… ominous intentions.’, she clarified, seeing Freya and Nina’s confused expression. She continued, ‘Now, you don’t know this yet, Miss Toscani, but Potter will also be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in Hogwarts.’ Potter nodded at Freya with a puckish smile, ‘He only teaches the sixth and seventh years, whom you’ll follow your lessons with.’, Freya blanched a little. The Headmistress had already mentioned that back in the Minister’s office, but only now did the information truly kick in. If there were sixth and seventh years, that meant there were five other years worth of lessons that she’d have missed, and she wasn’t sure how they’d expect her to catch up on them. McGonagall turned toward the blue-haired wizard, ‘This is Edward Lupin. He is an Auror as well, as you can see.’, she said, vaguely showing his uniform with a gesture of her hand.

  ‘Hi!’, the young wizard said with a shy smile. His brown eyes, mischievously creased by his grin inspired the same trust and kindness as his older sidekick. McGonagall extended her arm toward the red-haired man.

  ‘This is Ronald Weasley. He retired from his Auror’s career a long time ago, but he has agreed to help us ensure your protection during your stay in this house.’ The man crossed his arms and pivoted lightly toward the first two wizards. He didn’t look like he was happy to be here at all, ‘And finally…’, the Headmistress announced solemnly as she turned toward the tall blond man who stood as far from the others as the room allowed him to, ‘This is Draco Malfoy. He—‘. He interrupted her with a short cough.

  ‘Excuse me, Professor McGonagall.’, he said in a slow and drawling voice, pointing nonchalantly at Nina with his snake-headed cane. Everyone turned and looked at him. ‘Does she really have to be here?’ A discreet chorus of sighs immediately followed the question.

  ‘Why couldn’t Miss Harker be here with us, Malfoy?’, McGonagall asked stiffly. Irritated, Malfoy clicked his tongue, and turned his pale eyes toward Nina.

  ‘Because she is a muggle.’, he articulated even slower than before with a contained hint of scorn.

  ‘Yes. And?’

  Malfoy impatiently hit the floor with his cane as if having to explain himself was completely ridiculous.

  ‘And I don’t think a muggle should be included in discussions involving sensitive magical matters. I don’t see why she should know, magical oath or not.’

  From joyful and relaxed, the atmosphere had suddenly turned heavy and uncomfortable. McGonagall opened her mouth, but Harry Potter spoke first.

  ‘We cannot have this conversation again, Malfoy.’, he said sternly, ‘You agreed.’

  ‘Yes, I agreed, Potter.’, Malfoy spat in a small cloud of gobs, ‘I agreed to help you protect Miss Toscani, but I did not agree to discuss extremely confidential information in front of a muggle while the Wizarding Secrecy is on the verge of being blown apart.’, he continued, his drawling voice becoming hoarser with each word, ‘The Ministry has never worked harder to protect the Wizarding world from being exposed since the Calamity started, and you now want to include a muggle in the conversation?’, he hit the floor with his cane again and scoffed haughtily, ‘That is absurd.’

  ‘I am the one who asked for her to be here with me.’, Freya announced suddenly. Every head turned to her. Malfoy looked her up and down.

  ‘I know.’, he said, his nostrils flaring lightly, ‘But I reckon you two could bear to be apart for an hour in order for us to discuss what has to be discussed now, couldn’t you? Besides…’, he turned his pale gaze toward Nina, ‘She is of no use to us. Therefore, she should leave.’

  Shocked, Freya and Nina exchanged a look, then faced Malfoy again.

  ‘She is of use to me.’, Freya replied firmly, feeling her blood rush to her chest and cheeks, ‘The Minister of Magic, Nina, and I have signed an agreement. I agreed to comply with your rules in exchange for support. She is my support.’

  Malfoy puffed up his chest and smirked. Nina was remaining silent, which Freya knew was not a good sign.

  ‘Touching. Would you mind telling me what kind of support a magicless human can bring in a situation like this?’

  Freya recoiled in shock.

  ‘A magicless human? Sir, she fought Tobias Gaunt, back in the restaurant.’, she replied, trying hardest to remain calm, ‘She fought him barehand to protect me, without magic. She injured him and probably prevented him from hurting me further. She has every right to know. And even if you don’t want her here, she will know everything eventually, because I will tell her. That was my condition. She will know everything. And you agreed.’, she added those last words as she turned her gaze toward McGonagall, waiting for a confirmation.

  ‘This is nonsense.’, Malfoy spat despisingly.

  ‘Well, you might as well obliviate the both of us right now. She will not leave.’, Freya replied bravely.

  The silence that followed was deafening. Freya looked away from Malfoy’s death stare, suddenly fearing that she had made a grave mistake, and glanced at each of the wizards surrounding her. All of them looked at her with surprise mixed with admiration. The corners of McGonagall’s mouth rose in an imperceptible smile.

  ‘Well, I suppose that settles it.’, she said, joining her hands and turning back toward Draco Malfoy, whose lines around his mouth and nose appeared more creased than ever. ‘Do you have any other questions, Malfoy?’

  Freya peered at Harry Potter. Arms crossed, his face contracted, he was glaring at Malfoy through his eyebrows.

  ‘No.’, he said bitterly. His eyes were fixated on Nina. He looked at her up and down with such contempt that Freya almost called him out, but his expression changed and turned into downright outrage before she could do anything. Freya didn’t even have to look at Nina to know that she had probably given him a taste of his own medicine. In one quick gesture, he turned away from them and crossed his arms.

  ‘Pompous fuck.’, Nina whispered, apparently loud enough for Ron Weasley to hear her. He snorted discreetly and suddenly appeared way more relaxed.

  ‘As I was saying.’, the Headmistress resumed, ‘Draco Malfoy will help us ensure your safety as well. His, er… Expertise in the Dark Arts area will be of great help.’

  Freya nodded and lowered her head, carefully avoiding looking in the tall pale man’s direction, while the room fell silent again.

  Everyone took a seat around the large table, the Headmistress presiding over the assembly at its extremity. No one was laughing anymore, and every guest seemed deeply absorbed in the close observation of the table’s ridges.

  ‘Before we start…’, McGonagall said, turning to Freya, ‘I’d like to reiterate our sincerest apologies for everything you’ve had to endure these past few days. None of it should have happened, and we’re doing everything in our power to ensure your well-being.’

  ‘Thank you.’, Freya said, ‘But respectfully…’, every head turned toward her again, ‘All I want right now is for someone to finally explain to me what is going on. I don’t want to dwell on what happened, I just want to understand. Please.’

  McGonagall pinched her lips and joined her fingers in front of her chest.

  ‘That’s what we’re here for.’, she said sternly after a pause, ‘I would have preferred to wait for the Minister to join us, but very well. Allow me to cut straight to the point then.’, she slid one hand inside her sleeve and took out a paper roll bound by a purple ribbon. She handed it to Freya, who unrolled it with trembling hands.

  Freya immediately noticed the irregular left border of the paper indicating that it had been torn off of a book. A lined page crossed by a margin on its left side resembled one of a registry. Behind the margin were dates, times and locations, and on the other side were names. One entry, in the middle of the page, had been highlighted in bright green. Freya’s eyes wandered to the top of the page, where she read in bold capital letters:

GREAT BRITAIN’S WITCHES AND WIZARDS BIRTH REGISTRY

1990 - 1995

  She gulped and brought her eyes back to the highlighted name. She read, and her chest contracted painfully :

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

16/06/1995 - 5:50AM        TOSCANI Freya Hestia…. Sex: F.

LONDON                              Parents: BLAKE Valeria Rowena (Muggle),

                                                        TOSCANI Mauro Stefano (Muggle)….  

                                            Status: Muggleborn.

                                            Last known magical ancestry: ♰ BLAKE (born EVANS) Hestia Isidora (Muggleborn).

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------             

   Some letters seemed to have faded, almost as if someone had attempted to erase them. Freya laid the paper flat on the table, stunned.

  ‘Does that mean…’, she let out after a pause.

  ‘That you were born a witch. Indeed.’, McGonagall said softly. Freya gulped. A feeling of deep uneasiness took over her.

  ‘How was I never aware of it? You said the first signs of magical abilities appear quite early in a child’s life… How did I not show any signs?’

  ‘You certainly did. But your grandmother made sure no one remembered them. Not even yourself.’

  Freya’s throat tightened.

  ‘Why would she do that?’, she asked, her voice stuck in a sob she repressed with all her strength.

   ‘She had her reasons.’

   Two tears rolled down Freya’s cheeks.

  ‘And you have no intentions of sharing them with me, is that right?’, she said bitterly, ‘I was told I would get answers—‘

  ‘And you will get them, Miss Toscani.’ McGonagall’s tone was firm, but a sad hint in her sharp gaze betrayed a certain compassion for Freya’s distress, ‘There are a few things you have to know and understand first.’

  Freya kept quiet. Not out of respect for the Headmistress’ authority, but out of anger and frustration. She clenched her jaw, feeling a torrent of rageful protestations ready to burst out of her mouth as soon as she would open it. She exhaled deeply, aggressively wiped the tears off her cheeks, and sat back in her chair, waiting.

  McGonagall cleared her throat, joined the tip of her fingers, and spoke.

   ‘Our worlds — both the magical and non-magical worlds — are in extreme danger. About twenty years ago, after the second Wizarding War, a very marginal group of witches and wizards started what we now call the Calamity. As you know, the non-magical world has to remain absolutely unaware of our existence, and the whole magical community has worked extremely hard for centuries to counteract any infringement on the International Wizarding Secrecy. Now, these… Terrorists have been putting their best efforts into bringing magic to the non-magical side. They have opened breaches in the veil that separates our two worlds.’

  ‘That’s why they’re called Breachers…’, Freya said pensively, forcing herself to regain her patience and composure.

  ‘Ah! That’s a clever one.’, Draco Malfoy spat tauntingly from the farthest corner of the table.

  Everyone turned around abruptly to give a reproachful look, and Freya heard Potter's fist angrily hit the wooden table.

  ‘Excuse me, Professor McGonagall.’, Nina said suddenly.

  ‘Yes, Miss Harker?’

  ‘Does he really have to be here?’, she asked, pointing her thumb toward Malfoy who instantly sat up in his chair while a few surprised exclamations rose.

  ‘Who do you think you are, you stup—’, Malfoy snarled, pulling on the snake head of his cane and taking a wand out of it.

  ‘Oh, many things!’, Nina replied before he could finish his sentence, ‘But at least I’m not an arrogant, pissy little man like you.’

  McGonagall bolted out of her chair.

  ‘Stop it, both of you!’, she exclaimed.

  ‘Hey, don’t!’, Potter shouted at Malfoy who was pointing his wand at Nina. She didn’t even flinch and cocked her head defiantly while Freya threw her arm across her chest to protect her.

  ‘I will not tolerate this kind of outrageous behavior.’, McGonagall shouted, ‘Malfoy, have you not grown up since your Hogwarts years? If not, now would be a good time. Miss Harker, stop laughing. Your position is too precarious for you to engage in such foolishness. You are considered a trusted person, act as such! You’d better get ahold of yourselves before I throw the both of you out of this room.’

  Her tone was so cutting that everyone shriveled up. Draco Malfoy slowly put his wand back inside his cane while Nina lowered her head and turned completely away from him.

  ‘Nin, please…’, Freya whispered desperately. She was getting worried. If she trusted Nina completely with her life and secrets, she started considering that her fiery temperament could lead them to bigger problems than being obliviated.

  Nina did not respond. She crossed her arms tightly around her chest and clammed up.

  ‘So, why would the Breachers want to do that? What’s their goal?’, Freya asked the Headmistress, trying her best to diffuse the uncomfortable tension.

  ‘You have to know, Miss Toscani…’, McGonagall said as she sat back in her chair, ‘That a growing proportion of the international magical community feeds a certain aversion, if not a strong… hatred toward the non-magical people. And some of these people seem to think that ridding the planet of muggles would be for the greater good.’

  ‘Why would they think that?’

  ‘Classism.’, Nephelia interjected, ‘Pure disdain for what they consider to be a sub-race.’

  ‘In part, yes. But it’s not that simple.’, McGonagall said softly, ‘You mentioned in the Minister’s office that you thought non-magical people would be glad to know that magic and people like us exist, Miss Toscani. Unfortunately, records have shown the opposite. Many times throughout history, the magical and non-magical communities have attempted to live side-by-side… But I believe that you are knowledgeable enough to understand that humans, however social they may be, magical or not, tend to reject what is too different from them. The results of those attempts were always the same…’, she blanched slightly, ‘Persecutions, hunts, massacres…Systemic violence resulting in terrible wars. Witches —women in general— being the primary target, of course.’, she cleared her throat, ‘Many magical events have occurred in the non-magical world lately. Breachers have been exposing muggles to magic, attacking them, torturing them, and releasing them so that they would spread the message. They are dropping hints everywhere, using magical traps and creatures to scare and hurt muggles. Or even kill them sometimes.’

  Freya frowned.

  ‘And how have none of those events ever been relayed in the news, or on social media? I’ve never witnessed any of those magical events, and I don’t know anyone who has…’, she turned to Nina, ‘Have you?’

  Nina shook her head no.

  ‘The magical community works efficiently, Miss Toscani. You, and approximately the entire muggle population have already been obliviated at least once, if not a dozen times. Sometimes a bit too late…’ Freya turned pale. The Headmistress continued, ‘Unfortunately if some muggles have already fallen victim to the Breachers’ cruelty, attacks against witches and wizards, perpetrated by muggles this time, have already started occurring as well.’, she added with a somber look.

  Freya sat back in her chair, trying to make sense of this new torrent of information.

  ‘I’m confused…’, she started timidly, ‘Is the Breachers’ goal to get rid of muggles? All of them? And if yes, why would they bother dropping hints and opening breaches, instead of attacking directly? I mean… They have magic, and we - I mean muggles- are quite defenseless... Why bother playing these games?’

  ‘You’ve said it. That’s the word.’, Potter said with a bitter smile, ‘It’s a game. A strategy that serves two purposes. The first one is to confuse muggles, create paranoia, divide them, and turn them against us or any individual they’d find suspicious. Then comes the second purpose that derives from the first one.’, he leaned forward on the table, ‘Most magical people don’t have any hard feelings against muggles, a lot of us live with and love muggles and their families, actually. But if muggles begin to turn violent against magical people, then what do you think happens?’

  Freya took the time to think. She suddenly felt a weird sense of urgency, as if she was facing a giant wave that threatened to engulf her completely at any moment. The stakes were finally becoming clearer.

  ‘It gives them a reason. They’re growing their ranks by giving magical people reasons to turn against muggles.’, Freya let out.

  ‘That’s right.’, Potter replied, ‘They are building an army. An army that would serve their quest for wizarding supremacy. An army of soldiers, and supporters as well. Such purpose is much more easily accomplished if you have the government’s approval, don’t you think?’

  ‘The government…The Ministry? They have supporters in the Ministry?!’

  ‘Of course. And more than we thought.’, Nephelia said, ‘And it’s not just here, in Britain. It’s worldwide.’ Freya’s eyes widened. ‘But they’re missing something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A weapon.’, Potter said gravely.

  ‘Wha—What kind of weapon?’

  ‘Oh, Miss Toscani…’, McGonagall protested impatiently, ‘You were doing so good until now. Think, please.’

  Nina let out a soft gasp.

  ‘Er—Err…’, Freya stammered, blood rushing to her cheeks, ‘Is-Is it my wand?’, she asked sheepishly.

  ‘Precisely.’, Potter replied. Freya shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘But… What would they do with it? What’s so special about this wand? What advantage would it give them?’

  ‘An overwhelming advantage.’, McGonagall said curtly, ‘Miss Toscani… What happened back in Mickey’s restaurant showed us exactly why they wanted it so desperately. The power this wand can behold would allow the Breachers to bring entire nations to their knees in much less time and effort than it would take us to fight them. Your grandmother had good reasons to keep that information undisclosed. She had to protect it so that it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.’

  Freya shook her head.

  ‘What power? What are you talking about?’

  ‘The spell you cast against Gaunt, Freya…’, Nephelia said softly, ‘That’s not common magic.’

  ‘What? B-But how—’

  ‘Mickey saw you.’, Nephelia interjected, ‘He may have betrayed us, but he sure had a lot to say about what you did back in his kitchen. You didn’t cast a simple defensive spell, Freya. You summoned something. Mickey said something came out of your body.’

  ‘I don’t understand…’, Freya said weakly, ‘I don’t remember—‘, she interrupted herself as a very quick image flashed in her mind.

  The luminous silhouette. The light passing through me…

  ‘So I wasn’t hallucinating, then…’, Nina whispered. Freya abruptly turned toward her.

  ‘You saw that too?!’

  ‘Yeah… It was like… some sort of… clone of you.’, Nina replied gravely, looking for her words, ‘A luminous, white clone. It came out of you, or your wand, I don’t really know, and hit this arsehole full force, but er… I thought that somehow, you know… with the shock, my brain had created something. But Mickey saw it too…’

  Freya kept staring at her, distressed and confused.

  ‘What you have to understand, Miss Toscani’, McGonagall said, ‘is that what you were able to do is very unusual. This is not something any witch or wizard can do. Besides, a wand so responsive to its owner, and capable of channeling the kind of magic you used, without even an incantation, is extremely rare. If not unique.’

  ‘W-what kind of magic?’, Freya stuttered.

  ‘An extremely powerful one.’, McGonagall replied sternly. ‘One that is not acquired through practice and skills. A gift. Your grandmother seemed to think you had this gift for a long time now, and it appears that she was right.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  The Headmistress looked away and let out a long sigh.

  ‘Hestia and I used to be excellent friends, Miss Toscani. I know you more than you think.’ Freya frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the Headmistress continued, ‘Your wand has been in your family for generations, passed down from witch to witch for centuries until it could fall in the hands of its rightful owner. It had to wait until you were born for someone to understand its nature truly. It took someone like your grandmother to understand how equally powerful and dangerous it was.’

  Freya couldn’t hold it anymore. All of this seemed terribly unfair.

  ‘Why didn’t she get rid of it, then?’, she exclaimed, feeling herself lose control, ‘Why didn’t she destroy it, if it’s that dangerous? None of this would’ve happened if the wand didn’t exist anymore, wouldn’t it? Why did she pass it on to me? Why did she have to involve me? And why did she make sure I knew nothing about magic before today?! Why would she rob me of that and then throw me in the lion’s den with little to no explanation?!’ With every question she asked, Freya’s voice was getting louder. Her frustration and resentment against her Nana, this person she trusted and loved so much and whom she felt had betrayed her, were taking over her again. Above all else, this was probably the most difficult feeling she had to deal with.

  ‘Again. She had her reasons. That is all I can say at this moment. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Bu—‘

  ‘All you have to know right now, Miss Toscani’, McGonagall interjected in a severe tone, ‘is that your wand, and the power it can convey, is the missing piece to the Breachers’ plan. What they did not anticipate, however, is that you have the ability to summon and use this power. Unfortunately…’, she leaned forward and looked intensely at Freya, ‘They are now aware of it. Which puts you in even greater danger than before, as you can imagine, because it’s not only your wand they want now, but you.’ Freya gulped with difficulty, ‘As a consequence, you will have to stay here until we escort you to Hogwarts. Listen to me carefully. You cannot go out, not even step foot outside of this house, not even pass your head through the window. These people’, she waved her hand around to show each assembly member, ‘will take turns to watch and protect you until next week.’

  Three loud knocks in the corridor. Ronald Weasley stood up and marched to the front door to open it. The concert of locks and chains was heard again, and soon after a slim, brown-haired witch, holding a large leather briefcase under her arm, entered the dining room. The atmosphere immediately lightened.

  ‘Ah! Madam Minister!’, Potter exclaimed as cheerfully as the context allowed him.

  ‘Hello, Harry.’, Hermione Granger replied, smiling brightly at him, ‘Hi Teddy, I haven’t seen you in a long time!’, she said joyfully as she put one hand on the blue-haired wizard’s shoulder.

  ‘Eh, you know, it’s busy out there!’

  The Minister turned to look at Freya and Nina.

  ‘Hello, ladies.’, she said in a soft voice. She looked way more appeased and relaxed than the last time Freya had seen her. Her kind smile lightened her thin features, and Freya couldn’t help but smile back at her. Ronald Weasley stood next to her, and he passed one arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek. The Minister blushed a little while Freya and Nina exchanged a surprised look.

  ‘How are the children?’, she asked softly, turning to him. Weasley looked at his watch.

  ‘Probably not up yet.’, he replied in a low voice, ‘But they were alive when I left them at the Burrow last night.’

  ‘Good.’, the Minister chuckled, ‘Good morning, Malfoy.’, she said in a much more formal tone, her smile disappearing suddenly.

  ‘Good morning, Granger.’, Malfoy replied in a tone that, despite his closed-off demeanor, betrayed a profound respect. She pivoted on her feet and addressed the assembly.

  ‘I apologize for my tardiness. Last-minute impediments. I’m just passing by, unfortunately. What have I missed?’

  ‘In short, the Calamity situation’, Edward Lupin replied with a playful smile.

  ‘Ah…’, Granger turned to Freya and Nina, ‘So you’re aware now… Sorry. Miss Harker, right? I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Hermione Granger, Mister of Magic.’, she extended her open hand toward Nina who stood up and shook it firmly.

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’, Nina let out, visibly impressed.

  The Minister dropped the leather briefcase on the table with a heavy thud.

  ‘I really can’t stay, but I’ve come to bring you this, Miss Toscani. My duties do not allow me to be as involved in your protection as my colleagues here, but as participation, I thought I might give you a little help with your studies. You will have a lot to catch up on this year, and you might as well start up now.’, she said excitedly, whipping up the briefcase’s leather flap, revealing a stack of papers as large as an encyclopedia, conscientiously organized and separated between colorful inserts.

  ‘Are these your school notes?’, Potter asked with a surprised laugh.

  ‘Yes, they are.’, Granger replied, seemingly cut to the quick, ‘They have been collecting dust in my office for years, and I always thought they’d come in handy one day, so I— Ron, stop— so I took them.’, Blushing again, she turned to Freya, ‘Every basic charm, spell, potion and lesson from first to sixth year are condensed and summarized in these notes. I’d encourage you to have a look at them before next week. You can ask anyone to help you practice if you wish to. Since you’re not a minor, you’re technically allowed to practice magic outside of school.’, she leaned forward, taking a graver tone, ‘Under close supervision, of course. I know it’s a lot for very little time, but it’s better than nothing. It’ll help you greatly.’

  ‘Th—Thank you very much, Madam Minister.’, Freya replied, still dazed from the previous conversation, but genuinely grateful. She slipped her fingers between the thick ivory pages, blackened with words and symbols. The commotion and bantering around her disappeared suddenly. In spite of the dreadful circumstances in which she had been introduced to the magical world, Freya felt a familiar and pleasant tingling rush through her chest. It was the tingling she felt every time she was about to discover something new, learn a new skill, or engage in a hobby she loved. It was the pleasure of learning, the intense desire to know and absorb. Despite everything, she felt a deep and fierce curiosity about magic. It had been waiting for her, all of these years. And now it was there, at the tips of her fingers.

  ’Well, I’m afraid I have to leave already.’, Granger said, ‘I’ll come to visit you again this week. Miss Harker, you’re staying here too, of course. Everything’s been taken care of. You’re officially on paid leave until next monday. In the meantime, please refrain from using your phone, computer, tablet, or everything that could be compromising to your security. We’ll figure out a solution to keep you safe once you’re back in your home.’

  ‘Er… Alright.’, Nina said, surprised, ‘Thank you. Very much. But—’, she added as the Minister was about to turn away, ‘What about my brother? Can I talk to him?’

  ‘Oh! Eddie, is that right?’

  Nina nodded quickly.

  ‘Nephelia told me about him. Thank you for reminding me. Listen…’, the Minister said, lowering her voice. Nina’s expression darkened instantly.

  ‘I need to talk to him. I can’t—‘, she started defensively, but the Minister raised her hand to interrupt her.

  ‘I know.’, the Minister said appeasingly, ‘We’ll make an exception for him. But listen to me.’, Nina leaned forward, her eyes looking strangely desperate, ‘Do not, under any circumstances, divulge anything about your location and this situation. You are under magical oath, but your brother is not. You know what would happen if you were to break your oath, right?’

  Nina turned pale.

  ‘Yes.’, she replied in a breath.

  ‘Keeping him out of this will ensure his safety. I’m sure you don’t want any dark wizard to find out about his existence, do you?’

  Nina gulped with difficulty.

  ‘No.’, she whispered.

  Hermione Granger’s expression intensified. From soft and gentle, her traits had become as hard and inscrutable as they were in her office in the Ministry.

  ‘Whatever interaction you have with him, keep it as simple as you can. His life could be on the line too. You’re being watched, remember that. Understood?’, she said sternly.

  ‘Yes, Madam Minister.’, Nina replied. She seemed completely flustered, almost scared.

  ‘Good.’, Granger said, turning to Draco Malfoy who was standing behind her.

  ‘We’re counting on you, Malfoy. Your help is precious.’ The wizard lowered his head.

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

Chapter Text

  Freya was sitting in the first floor’s reception room on one of the dark green loveseats. In front of her, on the black coffee table, were the leather briefcase brought by Hermione Granger, and a red velvet pouch closed by a golden ribbon. Freya knew what the pouch contained, but hadn’t opened it yet. She could see the lumps made by large and heavy coins on the fabric’s surface—another legacy from her Nana. More was waiting for her in a vault somewhere in London, but Freya couldn’t be more uninterested. All the money in the world couldn’t bring her peace back.

  She planned everything.

  She planned everything and she said nothing.

  After the reunion was over, Freya and Nina were politely sent to attend their own business while the remaining witches and wizards discussed « unrelated topics they hadn’t to be concerned with at the moment », and told to wait for someone to fetch them, which greatly frustrated Freya. The intense emotions from the reunion had faded, and her thoughts were spinning again, faster than ever. Everyone had left about two hours ago, except for Ronald Weasley, who was appointed for the day’s guard shift.

  Freya had tried to keep herself from spiraling into the gigantic vortex of questions that arose before her each time she found herself alone with her thoughts. While Nina had fallen back asleep, slumped in the opposite loveseat, she had opened the briefcase and browsed through the hundreds of notes, trying to decipher Hermione Granger’s small and tight handwriting. She skimmed through them for a few minutes, but this new and completely unfamiliar avalanche of information only felt like reading a text in a foreign language in which she only understood one word out of five. All of this was surely extremely interesting, and she’d have probably really enjoyed diving into this new pool of fantastic knowledge if her damned brain granted her a few minutes of respite… but now wasn’t the time. She just couldn’t focus.

  What were Nephelia, Potter, and McGonagall hiding from her?

  Granted, she had been given some answers, but that was less than enough. She was certain they had barely touched the tip of the iceberg. But why were they still being so secretive? Why couldn’t McGonagall tell her more about her grandmother’s whereabouts? She was making dozens of hypotheses at once, trying to assess each one with the few elements she had, but couldn’t come to a solid one.

  Once again, she was consumed by the unpleasant feeling of being treated like a child, sent to play in her room while the adults talked about « grown-up stuff ».

  She still didn’t know what had happened to her house either. Would she even be able to go back there before leaving for Hogwarts? What were they looking for? And who could have written this awful slur on her bedroom wall, if it wasn’t Tobias, as Nephelia said? After everything he did to her, after all the horrible names he had called her, writing « SLUT » on a wall didn’t appear out of character at all, now.

  What she had trouble wrapping her head around was his complete change of attitude. No matter how hard she tried, and despite his more than questionable behaviours during their relationship, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him angry or violent. He mostly displayed a placid and charming demeanor. There was this suavity, this gentleness, and this mystery in him that — Freya had to admit it —had seduced her. He had been kind, lovable, and affectionate at some point… And his eyes… His almond black eyes that Freya loved so much, which once gleamed with mischief and playfulness every time he laughed had become hard and empty. His face, with such harmonious, almost androgynous traits had lost all of its fineness and was now swollen with anger and hatred. It seemed like these two visions weren’t even the same person. She couldn’t tell whether he had always been that way and was now revealing his true and unmasked self, or whether he had suddenly gone completely insane. Whatever it was, both options sent shivers down Freya’s spine.

  She replayed the events in her head, from the first time she met him to the restaurant incident. A painful memory stood out. Always the same. 

  It was the last day of November. They had been together for three months. Tobias had started disappearing more often and for longer periods, and despite the lack of solid proof, Freya was convinced he was cheating on her. What else could it be? She was tired of crying, of worrying, of being paranoid and controlling. This wasn’t her. She was starting to lose herself, and it had to stop.

  She had agreed to meet him in London after he had begged her to see him and let him explain himself. He didn’t know that she was planning on leaving him, and though this decision was tearing her apart, she couldn’t see herself chasing him around anymore.

  They had sat on the outside seating area of a pub in Camden. He looked agitated, as if he knew what was coming, and he had deployed extraordinary efforts of reassurance and persuasion to convince her he was being faithful. He had sworn up and down that he’d never do that to her, that he loved her so much, that his disappearances had nothing to do with cheating, that he had family issues… He held her hands, pulled her in his arms, and tried to kiss her every time she moved away from him. She had never seen him like this. He had lost his usual gift of the gab and seemed genuinely desperate, devastated at the idea that she would leave him. And it worked.

  Almost.

  After hours of discussion and negotiation, she eventually caved in and agreed to give him another chance… until she arrived.

  A thin, silver-haired girl of an ice-cold beauty. She had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, next to their table. She had stared Freya up and down with her big icy grey eyes, filled with scorn and animosity.

  ‘Dee… What the fuck are you doing here?’, Tobias had muttered through his clenched teeth, a deep scowl on his face.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here, Toby? Is this the girl? I thought you said you were done with her!’, she had screeched back with an irritatingly high-pitched voice, pointing a disdainful finger at Freya.

  Freya had stared at her, stunned, then at Tobias. She’d have expected him to get angry, argue, or even lose himself in pitiful justifications and excuses, but he did none of that. Instead, he had pulled, ever so calmly, a cigarette out of his pack. He had lit it… and laughed.

  He had laughed. And that laugh had hit Freya like a bolt of lightning.

  What ensured afterward was blurry. She could vaguely remember herself screaming while Tobias tried to explain something, then leaving - unknowingly leaving her wallet on the table - while he ran after her, then shouting again in the middle of the street. He was trying to speak, but she wouldn’t hear it. All she could hear was the overwhelming pounding of her broken heart in her ears and the dull resonance of her anger.

  She only got rid of him at the Camden Town tube station, when she hopped on the wagon and physically blocked him out of it. The last image she had of that night was his defeated expression behind the train door’s window, and the silver-haired girl standing on the platform further behind him, a smug look on her cold face. She then had barged into Nina's flat, her face dripping with tears and snot, devastated, swearing she'd never, ever, see him again.

  That silver-haired slag. This fucking arsehole. It still ached, even after all these months.

  She frowned. Something had just clicked.

  Abruptly, she stood up and ran out of the reception room. She climbed the stairs up to the second floor and barged into the gigantic master bedroom where she and Nina had slept the night before. She grabbed her old high school backpack, which she still used for travel, and where she had hastily shoved everything that wouldn’t fit in her handbag when she had to leave her house. She sat on the floor, opened the bag, and emptied it in front of her. One after another, all sorts of objects fell in a cascade out of the bag. A book, a sketchbook, pens and pencils, keychains, small pouches, cards, trinkets, stones and seashells, card receipts, lip balms, small cream tubes, two old menstrual pads, and a tiny perfume bottle scattered everywhere on the dusty carpet. Then she extracted a small stack of folded papers stuck in the zipper and frantically looked for the hospital results.

  She opened them one by one. Amongst the various flyers, notes, and letters, she finally found the report sheet and immediately looked for the estimated date of her first Amortentia ingestion. Finally, a few pieces of the timeline were coming together.

  The 2nd of December. She had to face it. That’s when it all started.

  Freya exhaled sharply and buried her face in her hand.

  If only I hadn’t forgotten that bloody wallet on that bloody table! If only I had answered the door myself… None of this would’ve happened if I had opened that fucking door!’

   Light footsteps were heard outside the bedroom, then Nina’s voice rose.

  ‘Frey? Are you there?’ Freya folded the paper and hastily put it back inside her backpack. Nina appeared in the doorframe. ‘Ah! There you are! What are you doing? Weasley called us for lunch. What’s all this?’, she asked, looking at the pile of knick-knacks in front of Freya.

  ‘Nothing. Er… I was looking for something. To make sure I hadn’t left it in Milton.’, Freya lied. She couldn’t tell her yet. She had to digest it first.

  Nina squinted, as she always did whenever she knew Freya wasn’t being entirely truthful, but offered her hand to help her stand back up.

  ‘You’ll clean all this later, let’s go eat. I’m starving.’

***

  Ronald Weasley sat at the extremity of the table where a copious assortment of red meat in sauce, steamed vegetables, cheeses, and fruits had just been served. Freya and Nina sat next to each other on one side of the table, impressed.

  ‘That smells incredible!’, Freya exclaimed, trying to sound joyful, feeling her appetite grow, ‘Did Kreacher cook all of this?’, she asked politely, looking for the old and wizened little creature in the dining room, trying to strike up a conversation.

  ‘Of course.’, Weasley grunted as if the question was absurd, already filling his plate with as much food as possible. Freya and Nina waited for him to elaborate, but Weasley had already started eating, piling up impressive quantities of food on his fork and shoving it in his mouth at an equally remarkable cadence. He looked bothered and closed off, and neither Freya nor Nina dared ask any more questions. Even since he had entered the house this very morning, his attitude had thrown Freya off guard. The only noises he had emitted during the reunion were grunts and monosyllabic words. He just looked utterly pissed to be here. Freya didn’t know why, and it greatly bothered her. And it certainly didn’t help the unpleasant impression of being more of a nuisance to those people than a person to protect.

  Nina and Freya served themselves a bit of every dish and started eating in a heavy and awkward silence, only broken by the clattering of cutlery on plates and mouth noises.

  Finally, after he had gulped down his entire meal in record time, Ronald Weasley tossed his fork and knife on his plate, wiped his mouth with a cloth, leaned back in his chair, and turned his head toward them.

  ‘Kreacher’s food never disappoints.’, he let out, a much more relaxed and open look on his freckle-studded face, ‘I’m never skipping breakfast ever again. Makes me want to bite people’s faces off when I’m starving…’, he grumbled with a low giggle.

  Freya stared at him, noticing how his mood seemed to have improved almost magically, then let out an awkward chuckle as she struggled to cut herself a piece of cheese. She opened he mouth to say something, but he spoke before she could. ‘Next time, don’t even bother replying to him.’

  Freya and Nina exchanged a confused look.

  ‘I-I’m sorry, who…’, Freya started.

  ‘Malfoy.’, he replied, repressing a burp, ‘It’s not worth it. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Harry for years now, but he won’t listen. These two can’t help but squabble like an old couple whenever they’re in each other’s vicinity. Malfoy likes to stir the cauldron, but somehow he’s always surprised when it backfires. I’m telling you, it’s not worth it. Just ignore him, next time.’

  Nina let out a soft scoff, dropping her fork and knife into her plate as well.

  ‘Ignore him? That arrogant twig?’, she retorted in an outraged tone, raising an eyebrow.

   Weasley recoiled slightly as his dark blue gaze turned to Nina, visibly surprised at her sudden outburst.

  ‘Er… Yes. That arrogant twig… You don’t need to pay attention to what he’s saying…’, he replied, his voice faltering a little as a faint smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth.

  ‘How are we supposed to ignore him when he’s talking shite like that?!’ Nina protested again, throwing her hands in the air, ‘He’s acting like he owns the place and like he can say whatever the fuck he wants to us! Just because I’m a muggle? Who the fuck is he, anyway? The hell I’m going to ignore him, I’m not going to let him talk to me like that just because he’s got a magic stick, or because he schleps around with a cane like he’s fucking royalty.’

  Weasley stared at Nina for a few seconds in complete surprise, his mouth agape and his eyebrows raised. For a second, Freya thought he’d get angry, just like Potter and McGonagall did earlier, but to her great surprise, he burst out in a loud and hearty guffaw, throwing his head back.

  ‘Ha ! Hahaha! Oh, Merlin! You’re quite something, Miss Harker! Can’t say I wasn’t warned, but bloody hell!’, he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and laced with laughter as he wiped a tear off his eye.

  ‘Yeah… I mean, he was quite disrespectful…’ Freya interjected timidly, trying to back Nina up.

  ‘Yes, yes he was.’, Weasley replied, his voice still jolting with giggles, ‘But like I told you, you need to ignore him. That’s what he always does. He likes to provoke and rile people up. Always has. That’s his way of… Testing people, I guess. He’s not a bad lad, deep down. Just… very irritating, is all.’

  ‘Not a bad lad, eh ?’, Nina replied, still very worked up and furiously stabbing her meat with her fork. ‘Don’t know much about those muggle-hating Breachers, but he sure looks like one to me. He called me a ‘magicless human’, and basically useless. I wouldn’t be too sure about keeping him on your team if I were you.’

  Weasley chuckled.

  ‘Well, you know what they say about appearances?’, he said with a smirk.

  ‘That they’re often very telling?’, Nina replied with a hint of insolence, shoving her meat in her mouth.

  ‘Er, no. That they can be deceiving.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t believe in that.’, she retorted stubbornly with her mouth full.

  ‘Do you know him well?’, Freya asked when she finally managed to cut herself a piece of cheese.

  ‘Let’s see…’, he said pensively, raising his eyes toward the ceiling, ’32 years.’

  ‘Oh.’ Freya let out, raising surprised eyebrows.

  ‘We were schoolmates in Hogwarts. Along with Hermione and Harry.' Freya nodded, relieved to finally have a normal conversation with a wizard that didn't imply her safety, her wand, or her grandmother.

  'Were you friends? With Malfoy, I mean...'

  Weasley snorted, then shook his head slowly.

  'No.', he replied, still smirking, 'Absolutely not. We hated each other cordially. We had very good reasons to, to be completely fair. And it lasted for a long time in adulthood.'

  Both Nina and Freya looked at him with curious and intrigued eyes.

  'Well, that's not really helping his case, you know ?', Nina interjected, 'You don't sound very credible trying to defend him after saying that you hated him until not so long ago...'

  'Did something happen between you?', Freya dared to ask before Weasley could react to Nina's jab.

  Weasley let out a humorless laugh before answering.

  'Ah... You really don't know anything about our world, do you?' He asked softly, shaking his head lightly, almost as if he was touched by Freya's ignorance. 'Many things happened between us back in our Hogwarts days... Things one could write several books about. If you're curious, you could probably ask Harry. He doesn't really like talking about it, but since your, er...' He looked down and gestured vaguely toward Freya with his large hand, '...situation is pretty similar to what he's been through when he was kid, I'm sure he'd be willing to tell you some bits of his story.'

  Freya thought for a second. Something had just come back to her memory. What did Potter tell her yesterday at the hospital, when she was in the reception room again? 

  "I know what you're going through. It's very difficult."

  Yes. That's what he said. 

  'What do you mean by that?' She asked, her fork in suspension in front of her mouth, 'How can my situation be similar to his?'

  Weasley exhaled sharply as if he was already exhausted at the idea of explaining himself.

  'It's a long... Very long story.', he replied in a weary tone, his eyes wandering aimlessly around the table. 'And I'd rather Harry tell you himself. Don't feel like it's my place, to be honest. But if there's someone who can understand what you're going through, it might very well be him. Or Hermione. She's much more...' He interrupted himself, looking aimlessly toward the pile of dishes on the table, 'Inclined to talk about these things than I am.', he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.

  Freya understood that there was no point in insisting on the matter. It seemed heavy. 

  ‘Miss Granger? The Minister? Are you two…’, she started, trying to change the subject.

  ‘Married? Yes.', Weasley replied quickly, suddenly more animated and apparently relieved not to have to elaborate further. '17 years. Two children. You’ll meet them in Hogwarts by the way. Hermione will probably be very surprised to hear me say that, but you should really take a look at the school notes she brought you. They are a treasure trove. I know because I have never read them.’, he announced very seriously, pointing his finger on his chest.

  ‘Oh, er… Right.’ Freya replied, blinking rapidly, not really understanding what that meant, ‘Well, I have already skimmed through them, but… It’s a lot.’ She looked down at her plate, a pensive look on her face, ’I don’t know… I don’t know how the Headmistress expects me to follow classes with the sixth and seventh years when I don’t have the most basic knowledge of magic… That seems a little unrealistic, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Aaah, don’t you worry about it, Miss Toscani.’, he replied with a groan, waving his hand dismissively, ‘Professor McGonagall knows what she’s doing. She’s probably made arrangements with Harry, Hawthorne, and the rest of the team for you already. You won’t be thrown into a classroom right away, I’m sure of it.’ Freya saw Nina’s head turn toward her in the corner of her eyes as the name of Hawthorne was mentioned but chose to ignore it. ‘On that matter, not sure if anyone told you already, but whatever excuse you’ve found to cover up your stay at Hogwarts, we’ll go by it and help you make the arrangements.’

  Freya lowered her eyes toward her plate again, pausing, a pang of anxiety coursing through her suddenly.

  ‘Oh…’, she let out in a breathy voice, almost dropping her fork and knife. The realization hit her like cold water down her spine. She froze. The fork in her hand hovered, trembling slightly.

  Gone for a year.

  No one would know where she was. No one would know why.

  Not her friends, not her mother, not her father. Not even the ones she still owed answers to. It wasn’t just a secret.

  It was a disappearance.

  ‘What?’, Weasley asked, his gaze now fixed on her, ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of anything yet…' 

  His tone was much less cordial than it was just a few seconds ago, and Freya swallowed with difficulty.

  ‘I… No. I haven’t.’, she replied, her gaze still fixed on her plate. Weasley frowned at her disapprovingly.

  ‘Miss Toscani, in less than a week, you’ll be gone for a whole year, do you realize that?’, he retorted, his tone unpleasantly scolding, ‘You need to find something credible to tell your family, your friends, your job to justify your absence, and—‘

  ‘Yes, yes, I-I hear you, sir, it’s just—‘, Freya stuttered before he could finish, feeling her heart race in her chest, trying to explain herself, now completely distraught by his sudden change of tone, but Weasley cut her off before she could go on.

  ‘We’re doing everything we can to protect you, but you need to help us a little here. We don’t know what we could come up with that’d actually be credible to—

  ‘I think she got the message, Mr. Weasley.’, Nina interjected bluntly, loud and firmly enough to catch him off guard, ‘For fuck’s sake, give her a minute, will you? She’s just arrived here; everything’s happening all at once! You're aware of what she's been through. Of course, she didn’t think about this yet!’

  A long and uncomfortable silence settled. His jaw clenched, Weasley sat back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. Freya didn’t dare look back at him but shot a thankful glance at Nina.

  How was she even supposed to explain that to anyone? How could she even lie? How could she even leave like that, knowing that she'd have betrayed all those she cared about? 

  'When... When will I see them?', she asked, her mouth horribly dry and her hands clammy, still staring at her plate, 'When will I see my mother? And my father? A-And my friends? To... To tell them that I'm leaving?'

  All she heard for a few seconds was a soft gasp escaping Weasley's throat. She looked back at him, waiting for an answer, but the red-haired man was desperately silent, his eyebrows furrowed in some sort of concerned incredulity, as if he had just understood something himself. 

  'Er... Miss Toscani...' he started, his voice a little strained. He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly in his seat, his already pale complexion turning a little whiter. The silence became even more deafening. Even Nina seemed frozen, waiting. 'I thought... I thought it was clear that... You are not getting out of this house before you leave for Hogwarts.' He said gravely, raising his hand in front of him as if he was trying to appease Freya, who was starting to decompose herself in front of his very eyes. 'For your safety... For your family's safety... You can't...' He let his hand fall flat on the table, visibly defeated.

  'I'm going to leave for a year, and I can't even say goodbye?!' Freya exclaimed in a broken voice, her eyes widened and brimming with tears. 

  'Miss-Miss Toscani, listen, I-', Weasley interjected, his voice much softer now, 'I'm sorry, I thought you had understood that already, I thought it had been made clear...', he said, trying to reason with a spiraling Freya who was now speaking at light speed, her voice wobbly, her hands shaking.

  'And now you expect me to f-find a credible lie to tell them, how am I supposed to do that? And I can't even see them, why? Why? How can you tell me that? H-How?'

  Weasley had to louden his voice to make himself heard.

  'Miss Toscani, listen, please... LISTEN TO ME.', he almost shouted above her protests and whimpers. Freya fell silent immediately. Weasley sighed once again and pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. 'I shouldn't have said it like that. Sorry.' he conceded gruffly, 'Look. I understand that this is hard. But this is for safety measures, alright? Trust me, we're not doing that because we find it funny. But you don't want to underestimate the danger outside. We can't let you out and take the risk to expose you or your loved ones to the Breachers. And you're not disappearing entirely. You'll be able to talk to them, to your mother, to your father, to your friends, anyone you want when you're in Hogwarts. All you have to do is help us find a credible reason as to why you're gone and keep up with the lie the whole time you're there. We'll do the rest.'

  Freya remained silent, listening and fighting back tears. This was the last nail in the coffin, she thought. And she couldn't even go back. She had signed that fucking agreement. She had signed it. She was stuck. Trapped. But his last words had a soothing effect on her. It wasn't much, but it was something. 

  'What's "the rest"? ', she croaked eventually, wiping her eyes with her fingers. 

  'Cover-up. Diversion. Confirmation that you're exactly where you said you were, doing exactly what you said you were doing.', Weasley replied calmly, 'If you decide to tell your friends and family that you're in, say... Japan, for example, then we'll make sure that people have seen you there, among other things... Just making the lie undetectable, really. For your loved ones and the Breachers.' He turned to Nina. 'That's what has been done for you, Miss Harker. You're on paid leave for the week, aren't you? And you didn't have to send a single email or give a single call. Every document has been provided and approved.'

  Freya and Nina exchanged a puzzled look for what felt like the umpteenth time.

  'And... How do you do that... Exactly? ', Nina asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

  Weasley clicked his tongue and pinched his lips.

  'You're not expecting me to reveal the Ministry of Magic's top-secret dissimulation methods, aren't you?', he said with a chuckle. Freya wasn't sure whether he just tried to lift the mood or not, but it fell flat either way. Another awkward and heavy silence settled before he cleared his throat again. 'So, er... Can you... Can you try to think of something, Miss Toscani?', he asked hesitantly.

  Freya lowered her head again, her eyes roaming over the barely touched meat and vegetables, her appetite completely gone now. 

  She had so focused on surviving the chaos, the abrupt changes in her life, the pain and the fear, on trying to stay sane despite everything, she hadn't thought this far ahead. But right now, sitting at this table, in this strange and creepy house, surrounded by strangers, she mourned the woman she was just a week ago. The woman who had a normal life, a job, a routine. The woman who didn't need to lie to everyone she loved. Right now, she just wished she had never, ever, opened that box.

  ‘I’ll… I’ll think of something, Mr. Weasley.', she said eventually with a weak, strangled voice, ‘Just give me a bit of time. Until tomorrow.’

Chapter Text

  It was a new morning in the dark and gloomy house of 12 Grimmauld Square. Freya opened her eyes after a much less restful night than the previous one. The revelations from the day before had drained the last bit of mental strength she had left. She had had so little sleep that she felt nauseous and feverish, and the fragments of slumber her exhausted brain had granted her had been filled with weird, disturbing and incoherent dreams which she’d rather forget quickly.

  After the lunch with Ronald Weasley, she had silently climbed back up the two flights of stairs to the bedroom and had collapsed on the bed, her eyes fixed in the void. Nina had tried every distraction she could think of, but all of them fell flat.

  Weasley had suggested that he could help with learning basic spells to get a head start on her curiculum, but Freya remained unresponsive, skipping tea and dinner altogether. Nina eventually brought a plate to her bedside, but she didn’t even look at it.

  At 9 p.m, Nephelia arrived to relieve Weasley for the night shift. They had both come up to the bedroom, popped their heads inside and peeked worriedly at Freya, who barely acknowledged them. She had heard Nina talk to them outside the room, in the corridor, but couldn’t even comprehend a word. All she could do was lay there, in complete physical apathy, while her brain was in such overdrive that it felt on the brink of exploding.

Then Weasley had left, after bidding goodbye to both Nina and Nephelia and glancing one last time at Freya through the door, leaving them for the night.

  Now, the dust particles were dancing slowly in the rays of sunshine piercing through the heavy green velvet curtains. She slowly raised a hand in the air, letting the sun warm her fingertips, the bright rays bathing them in a faint, flickering glow.

  How ironic, Freya thought.

  She had seen the nice weather as a good omen when she woke up the day before, but now she just saw it as an ultimate provocation. How dared the sun shine now, after all she had been through, after all the loss she had suffered?

She closed her eyes again, and thought of the life outside. People would go out today. They’d gather in parks, on the riverbanks, or even drive to the countryside to enjoy the last days of the holidays. They’d go in the sun, eat ice cream, chat, laugh, dance… They’d live their lives. Their innocent, carefree… Magic-free lives.

  How dared they? How dared all those people be happy and out in the sun when she was here, locked up in that weird, creepy house, with those strangers she was forced to trust with her safety? When her whole life had been turned upside down?

  How unfair. How fucking unfair.

She looked on her left, toward a small black console she had put her handbag on. The room was dark, but the dim light filtering through the curtains allowed her to decipher her surroundings. She could see her wand poke out of it.

  She could feel it calling her. She could feel that need to hold it, to have it in her hand, to be connected to it. She could feel that attachment to it, so intense. She could feel that fire in her chest —the one that didn’t leave her core ever since she had opened that box, but…

  She hated it.

  She hadn’t touched it since she had arrived here in Grimmauld Square. She didn’t want to. She hated it for what it had brought to her life, all the trouble, all the changes, all the violence, all the fear. She hated it because it had belonged to her grandmother, and it brought up a confused turmoil emotions inside of her, both positive and negative; comfort, resentment, grief, pride, sadness, anger, regret… And…

  Power.

  Oh, she didn’t tell anyone about this. Not even Nina. She didn’t confide in anyone how holding and handling that wand made her feel deep, deep inside.

  Something she had never felt.

  The intense, strange buzzing she felt from that wand, spreading through her entire body like sparks, awoke something she didn’t know existed in her. That intoxicating feeling that took over her when she faced Tobias, when she aimed her wand at him back in Mickey’s restaurant. A sentiment so strong, so violent, that she could…

  Destroy. Destroy everything…

  She didn’t tell anyone, but her intention back in that kitchen was clear, and she had much more control over what happened than she was willing to admit, even to herself. And it scared her.

  But she had managed to push that down for now. She had more important matters to deal with.

  She let out a long, weary sigh, and rubbed her eyes with one hand.

  Her mind was foggy, hazy. Her head felt hot. She could barely think anymore. Her thoughts were just running on a loop, and all they did was fuel more anger and anxiety.

  She turned around under the covers and grabbed her phone on the black wooden nightstand beside the bed and checked the time. 7:32 am. She swiped up on her screen to check for notifications, just to be sure no one was worrying about her.

  She scrolled through the pictures her father had sent on the family group chat, proudly showing the very first batch of fruits his peach tree had given since he had planted it years ago.

  « Freya, you coming this weekend? Ne terrò un po’ per te, piccina… Sono buonissme!*», her father had written to her attention under the pictures, and a piercing pang of sadness hit her square in the chest.

  She could hear her father’s voice as she read the text over and over, his thick italian accent he never tried to work on despite all the years he’s been living in England, his laughter, his hazel eyes which she had inherited, always glimmering with joy and love…

  No…

  No, she won’t be coming this week-end, and Mauro Toscani will have to eat those peaches he kept for his precious daughter before they went bad.

  She won’t be coming back for a long time, probably not before the peach tree would have lost all its fruits, all its leaves, and grown new flowering buds.

  Freya abruptly pushed the sheets back and got up. There was no point in staying in bed if it was to lay there and cry again.

  She wobbled a little as he feet hit the wooden creaky floor. Her head turned for a few seconds and she had to lean on the nightstand to steady herself. She was weak. Sleep deprived. The idea of eating didn’t seem appealing at all, but the slight trembling of her hands betrayed her body’s desperate need for any kind of fuel. She shuffled to the bathroom and tried to get herself ready for the day. To regain a bit of dignity. She washed her face and applied some cream on it.

  For a moment, she was briefly comforted by the familiar and domestic scent of it. In a situation where all of her points of reference had been shattered, she realised that reassurance, however small it was, could be found in the tiniest things. She brought the tube’s orifice to her nose and inhaled the apricot and almond scent deeply, closing her eyes, letting her brain fill with soothing memories of her, now gone, normal life.

  She inspected herself in the mirror, ignoring her obvisouly drawn features, lifting her oversized shirt to observe her body. There were no bruises anymore. All gone. She brought her hand to her scalp at the top of her head and, with the tip of her middle finger grazed the scar the restaurant incident had left her. She could barely feel it. It didn’t hurt. And it had almost disappeared. Almost as if… Nothing had happened.

  Incredible…, she thought.

  She ruffled her long wavy hair, scratched her scalp vigorously in a vain attempt the clear to fog in her head, and left the bathroom. She picked a light shirt and comfortable summer jumpsuit from her suitcase, a pair of thin sandals, and put them on quietly, careful not to wake Nina up. She turned to her wand, still in her handbag on the console, and hesitated.     

   She should probably leave it there.

  She should probably not touch it until she’s required to. She didn’t want to feel it again. That scary, intoxicating sensation of destructive power… It wasn’t her. And she had no use of it now anyway, she was just going down for breakfast. But it… It called her. Her hand hovered over the wand almost on its own volition.

 I could still touch it… Just to see… I’ll have to touch it at some point…

  She didn’t want to feel that again. Those terrifying, foreign thoughts… She did not…

  She grabbed it.

  The warm, buzzing sensation she had become so familiar with immediately spread from her hand down to her entire body. Suddenly, her mind cleared a little, as if she had taken a shot of stimulants. It felt right. It was fitting perfectly in the palm of her left hand, almost as if it always meant to be there. She paused for a second, assessing her mental state.

  ‘Huh…’, she muttered to herself.

  No scary thoughts. No destructive urges… She sighed in relief, a little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she looked at her wand in her hand.

  Now, she was tempted to sway it, just to see, just to try… but refrained from it. If she had to blow up the room again, better do it far from Nina, and in the presence of a responsible witch or wizard.

  Shoving it into her jumpsuit’s front pocket, and tiptoed to the door. Her hand on the handle, she glanced toward the long and thin silhouette laying under the satin sheets.

  Nina turned in the bed with a soft groan. Freya froze, expecting her to wake up, but a short and single snore confirmed that her friend was still fast asleep. A faint amused smile tugged at Freya’s mouth, and she finally unlocked the door and pushed the handle.

  She exited the bedroom and stood in the second floor’s corridor, closing the door quietly behind her.

  It was dark and quiet. The only faint source of light came from the window on the other side of the corridor, that only looked out onto the grey brick wall of the neighboring house. Every door in the corridor was closed.

  WOOSH !

  Freya jumped, her eyes snapping at the wall in front of her. Two candles hanging on an intricate gothic candelabrum suddenly lit up, then all the other candelabrums followed in bursts, progressively lightening the dark corridor down to the other end. The rich decor appeared. The dark green wallpaper, the black panelling, the intricate frames, the—probably once of a rich black and cream combination— tatty hallway rugs on the dark hard woord floor… And the snakes, hidden in every corner, carved into the ceiling mouldings, into the handrail posts and forged into door handles.

  ‘Bloody fucking hell…’, she muttered under her breath, clutching her chest, panting slightly from the fright. Magical people really had a knack for theatrics, she thought. She quickly regained composure —she’d probably need to get used to this kind of stunts from now on— and walked towards the stairs. When she reached them and lay her hand on the wooden and intricately carved handrail, she stopped.

  She listened. She sensed. The house was completely silent, expect for the muffled and distant wood creaking typical of old houses. But there were no voices. No footsteps. No signs of life neither above or below her… But for the first time, she realized...There was a vibration in this house. Similar to the one she felt in hers after she found the wand. Only this one felt… Darker. She couldn’t explain, she couldn’t describe this new sense she had developped, but it was there. This house was filled with magic. Oozing from its every wall. She could almost touch it. It made her fingertips tingle. Was this what the Headmistress had mentioned, back in the Minister’s office… How did she call it, again?

  ‘Magical clusters.’, she mumbled to herself as she took the first step down. It made sense. She didn’t know how, but it made sense to her now. She could feel it. And the further down she went, the stronger it became.

  Her steps carried her to the ground floor, pulled by this weird vibration that kept growing at each step. As soon as her foot hit the tiled floor, the strong and warm scent of food hit her, triggering an immediate and rubbling reaction of her stomach despite her lingering nausea. Breakfast was already served.

  Freya appeared in the wide dining room, and found the table covered with astronomical amounts of food. Hard boiled eggs, bread, sausages, beans, butter, cheeses, hams, half a dozen jars filled with various jams, honey, a pile of fruits, cereals… Enough to feed an entire family of ten. Twice. Around the table were laid five sets of plates, bowls and cutlery.

  Five?, she thought. Were there other people in the house besides Nina and Nephelia? Was there going to be another reunion this morning?

  She approached the table and grabbed a peach on top of the pile. She held it in her hand, feeling its soft, reddish-pink skin, gauging it’s plumpness, and smelled it. It seemed absolutely delicious. Ripe to perfection. She thought of her father. Her eyebrows furrowed sadly, and she put the peach back at its place.

  There was still no one around, though. Nephelia wasn’t up yet. No Kreacher either.

  The faint whistling of a tea kettle suddenly reached her ears. It seemed to come from another room. She stepped out of the dining room and walked down the corridor, reaching another flight of steep stairs going down to what looked like a cellar. The whistling was coming from there. That was probably where the kitchen was… And where she’d find Kreacher. Not that she particularly wished to —the old and wizened creature properly freaked her out— but the vibration… It seemed to have grown stronger.

  Hesitantly, she took the first step down, then the second, holding herself to the black stone wall, until she found herself in a vast, dimly-lit and cluttered room.

  There it was, the kitchen, with its massive black tiled countertops running on three of the four walls of the room, the biggest cast-iron stove she had ever seen with a crooked conduit going all the way up to the vaulted brick ceiling, an impressive amount of pots and pans of all sizes hanging on the walls, piling up on shelves with plates, glasses, mugs and teapots of all shapes. All sorts of dried herbs were hanging from the ceiling, and a few barrels and unopened wooden boxes were piled up in a corner, right next to an open wooden door, through which she could see more shelves, almost crumblings under the weight of what looked like hundreds of jars, cans and bags.

  The black tea kettle was screaming on the stove, spitting a large column of scorching steam through its spout. She should probably take it out of the fire before it exploded, but something else had her attention.

  Another door, small, black, partially concealed by the countertop and more barrels. It was closed, and Freya could’ve have easily missed it if she didn’t feel something coming from it. It was like a sudden drop in the air’s pressure, an electric tension, like before a thunderstorm, threatening and exciting at the same time.

   She instinctively pulled her wand out her front pocket, and slowly walked toward the small door. The more she advanced, the more her wand and body reacted.

  Her heartbeat picked up, not from panic, but from a strange sense of euphoria, almost as if she was getting closer to something she had craved her whole life without even knowing it. Her wand didn’t burn in her hand this time, it sent jolts of intoxicating tingles through her arm, right to her heart.

  She kept walking, too focused on the door to notice the small blueish sparks flickering at the tip of her wand and the loudening screeching of the kettle. She squeezed herself between the countertop and the barrels, placing her free trembling hand on the wood. There was no handle, no lock, just a sealed panel. It was getting urgent, she had to know what was behind that door. Guided by a blinding need, she raised her wand and pressed its tip on the panel. She couldn’t hear anything anymore, not even the deafeningly high-pitched howling coming from the stove, or rather lack thereof, until a creaking, drawling and gravelly voice rose behind her.

  ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’

  Freya jumped and spun quickly, her trance broken abruptly, then jumped a second time.

  ‘AAAH !’, she yelled.

   The old Kreacher was standing right behind her, his massive bloodshot eyes, bulging out of his disproportionately large head, staring right into her soul. She stumbled back and fell against the barrels, knocking them over, and landed flat on the floor with a thud.

  ’N-n-no, I did-didn’t…’ she stuttered pathetically, staring back at the small creature, terrified. The kitchen’s dim lights cast grotesque shadows on Kreacher’s twisted features, his mouth curling into a near-toothless grin.

  He snickered ominously, tilting his deformed head.

  ‘Little kitty cat…’, he hissed mockingly. ‘Snooping where she shouldn’t… Ha! No matter what the Master says, Kreacher knows his Mistress was right… Those muggleborns are no good… No, no, they lack manners, they are not raised right!’, he exclaimed, pointing a long, crooked finger at her.

  ‘I-I’m s-sorry, I-I h-heard the t-tea ket-kettle, and-and—’, she stuttered again, trying to explain herself, but Kreacher cut her off, taking a threatening step toward her, his ghastly grin widening.

  ‘Nasty little brat, ain’t she? With her nasty little muggle friend, ha! They don’t know their place! Putting their filthy little hands everywhere they can…’

  ‘Noo! No, I-I swear!’, Freya whimpered, raising one hand in front of her to keep the old, wrinkly, wobbly creature at a safe distance, ’I just-I just…’

  ‘Freya!’ Nephelia’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. She appeared, disheveled, panting, her wand in her hand and Nina on her heels. Kreacher shriveled instantly. ’What in Merlin’s beard is going on here?! What are you two doing down there?!’, she asked with a tone and expression that conveyed more worry than irritation, her gaze darting between Kreacher and Freya.

  Freya flushed red, scrambling on her feet, her gaze immediately going to Nina.

  ‘Little brat was snooping and Kreacher found her!’, Kreacher croaked out proudly, pointing his long, crooked finger at Freya again.

  ‘That’s not true!’, Freya protested vehemently, ‘I wasn’t-I wasn’t snooping, I just-‘

   ‘Did something happen, Frey?!’, Nina rushed forward, grabbing Freya’s arm, ’The portrait in the corridor’s been howling and screeching that the house is under attack! Igwe woke me up and you were gone! Are you okay?!’

  Freya paused for a second, trying to gather herself, scooting as far as possible from Kreacher. Now that the tea kettle had been put out from the fire and the house-elf wasn’t grating on her ears with his creaking voice, she could hear it in the distance. The portrait was yelling upstairs.

  Attaaack! The house of my ancestors! Under attaaack! 

  ‘Y-yeah, I’m okay, n-nothing happened, I swear, I just…’, she shook her head, still dazed, ‘I came down there because… There was…’, Freya interrupted herself, her lips quivering, avoiding Nephelia’s inquisitive gaze. ’Um… I thought I heard the kettle and… And no one was around. I wanted to help.’

  ‘LIES!’, Kreacher roared, his bat-wing-like ears quivering with anger, ‘Lies, lies, lies!’, he wailed, stomping his foot on the floor, ‘Kreacher saw her poking where she shouldn’t! My Mistress knows! Oooooh, she knows what that filthy mud-…’

  ‘That’s enough, Kreacher!’, Nephelia snapped, ’I don’t want to hear your wailing!’ Kreacher fell silent immediately, twisting his gnarly hands, ‘Did anyone enter the house? Did someone try to come in?’

  The house-elf tucked his head into his crooked shoulders, his ears drooping piteously. He grumbled something under his breath, and shot a nasty glare at Freya. ‘Answer me, Kreacher.’, Nephelia ordered, her low voice reverberating against the vaulted room’s walls.

   ‘Nooo… No one…’, Kreacher whined. Then he fell to his knees, grabbing his ears, pulling on them and writhing so dramatically on the floor it was almost comical. ‘It’s the brat and her muggle friend! They shouldn’t be here, they shouldn’t-…’

  ‘Oh bloody hell, shut it! It’s your shouting that triggered the banshee upstairs!’, Nina exclaimed angrily, to which Kreacher responded with another deafening screech.

  ‘Ssshhuush, Kreacher.’, Nephelia interjected, her tone a little softer, ‘There’s no need for that. Come on, get up, now.’, she ordered again, and lifting him back up on his feet like a mother would with a toddler throwing a fit. Freya watched this surreal scene with wide, puzzled eyes, and wondered how Kreacher’s ridiculously weak and tiny arm didn’t snap under Nepehlia’s grip. ‘The house isn’t under attack, then. And don’t call them that.’

  Kreacher wailed even louder, clutching Nephelia’s purple robe, burying his wrinkly mug in her thigh, croaking out unintelligible sounds and raspy cries.

  ‘Mistress… Poor, poor Mistress… ’, he moaned pitifully while Nina grunted in disgust.

  ‘Now, now, stop it. And don’t pull on that, it’s silk.’, Nephelia said testily, gently pushing Kreacher —whose globular eyes were perfectly dry despite his loud sobbing— off of her leg. ‘I saw you prepared us a wonderful breakfast. The others will arrive soon. Now, why don’t you go back upstairs and tell your dear Mistress all is well… And stop harassing your Master’s guests! Go on! Go!’

  The old Kreacher stopped bawling instantly and, with a last death glare toward Freya and Nina, disappeared in loud CRACK!

  A few seconds later, the screams coming from upstairs stopped. The old lady in the portrait had been silenced.

  Freya let out a long sigh of relief. She turned to Nephelia sheepishly, ready to thank her for rescuing her, but Nephelia’s expression made her face drop immediately. She was not happy.

  ‘Um…’, Freya started weakly as Nephelia closed her fists on her hips, her lips pinched disapprovingly.

  ‘Freya…’, she drawled with a tone that did not bode well. Freya gulped. She was in trouble again. She should’ve known better than to roam around this creepy house by herself. She shouldn’t have followed that vibration. Even Nina was silent, which was quite unusual.

  ‘I… am going to die from stress before the week ends, I’m telling you.’, Nephelia said with an irritated huff, waving an authoritative finger at her.

  ‘I’m so, so sorry… I didn’t mean to worry anyone, I just—…’

  ‘Let’s get out of here…’, Nephelia breathed out, turning on her heels and gesturing for Freya and Nina to follow her.

***

  ‘Sit.’, Nephelia ordered gently when they got back in the dining room. She sat down at the table and let out a small sigh, pouring herself a large cup of coffee. Freya and Nina followed in silence.

  ‘Nephelia, I’m sorry, I… There was—…’, Freya started, but three loud knocks were heard at the front door. Nephelia stood back up and, without a word, marched toward the corridor. Freya bit her bottom lip anxiously. Nina leaned toward Freya.

  ‘What were you doing down there?’ The symphony of locks and chains resonated loudly behind them, covering their whispering. ‘Babes, you are the worst liar this planet has ever carried, even a blind person could tell that you're full of shit.’

  Freya recoiled slightly, a flash of irritation passing in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, fuck off, the tea kettle part was true!’, she whispered back in Nina’s ear, ‘But I felt something.’

  Nina gasped softly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Like a vibration. There’s a hidden door in the back of the kitchen, there was something behind it, and I could feel it, it was magic, and my wand—‘

  THUD.

  Freya fell silent as she looked behind Nina’s shoulder. She could see a long gloved hand resting on a snake-headed cane. She raised her head, and was met with a pair of stern pale eyes.

  ‘Good morning, ladies.’

  Nina spun on her seat and raised her gaze toward the tall, slender, polar-blond haired man towering above them.

  ‘You again?!’, she exclaimed without a hint of politeness, straightening up in her seat. Freya froze.

  ‘Yes, Miss Harker. Me again.’, Malfoy drawled, his mouth curling into a mocking smirk.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake…’, Nina grumbled, shooting a reproachful glare at Nephelia as if it was her fault. The witch sighed deeply and silently made her way back to her chair, clearly not in the mood to deal with this bickering this early in the morning.

  ‘I’m thrilled by your enthusiasm, Harker.’, Malfoy mocked, strutting around the table, punctuating his steps with his cane.

  ‘Tch.’, Nina scoffed, scowling.

  ‘Remember what Weasley said, Nin. Don’t egg him on… Please.’, Freya whispered again in Nina’s ear, her eyes a little imploring, while Malfoy sat at the end of table, presiding over the little assembly. He threw his long leg over the other, and opened his black, perfectly bespoke coat in a measured, elegant gesture, showing an equally bespoke black waistcoat ornate with chiseled silver buttons.

  He sure stood out in the rich, yet decaying decorum of the 12 Grimmauld Square. He exuded wealth, and that unmistakable confident arrogance only men raised in generational abundance could so effortlessly display. All style, no manners. He seemed to have recovered from his humiliation from the day before, and was taking advantage of McGonagall’s absence to get his little revenge.

  ‘A-are you staying for today’s guard shift, Mr. Malfoy?’, Freya asked as politely as she could. He’s not a bad lad, deep down… He’s not a bad lad, deep down.., she kept repeating herself, wanting nothing more than to believe Weasley, even though it proved to be quite difficult right now.

  ‘Indeed.’, he replied simply, his silver gaze falling on her. ‘I’ve been appointed to be your guardian and tutor for the day.’, he added, his eyes flicking toward Nina with barely concealed distaste.

  ‘My… My tutor?’, Freya repeated, confused.

  ‘That’s right.’, Malfoy replied as he poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘You’ll be learning basic spellcraft with me today. You need to get ahead of your curriculum if you don’t want to be entirely clueless once you’re in Hogwarts. As such, it has been decided that you’d be tutored everyday until you leave. You could’ve started yesterday afternoon with our good friend Weasley, but it came to my understanding that you were…’, he slowly brought the mug to his lips and took a sip, ‘Not bothered enough to get out of bed.’, he sneered, smacking his lips.

  The tension in the room intensified immediately. Freya recoiled, Nina cracked her knuckle, and Nephelia sat up in her chair.

  ‘She was undisposed, Malfoy.’, she interjected, her voice firm.

  ‘Oh, was she?’, he asked, his tone laced with condescension, ‘Well… You’re disposed today, Miss Toscani, aren’t you?’

  Freya stared back at him, squeezing Nina’s arm way too tight in a silent plea to keep her mouth shut.

  ‘Yes. I am.’, she replied, swallowing hard.

  He’s not a bad lad, deep down… Really deep, then. Mariana Trench deep. 

  ‘Marvelous.’, he said with an obviously phony smile, before looking around the table and counting the plates, his eyebrows furrowing. ‘Why are there five plates? Is someone else coming, Igwe?’

  ‘Yes, someone else is coming, Malfoy.’, she replied with a hint of insolence, sitting back in her chair and setting her cup of coffee onto a folded newspaper next to her, in the middle of the headline. 

  ‘Huh… And who might that be?’

  ‘An assistant… For you.’ A little smile had crept up on Nephelia’s lips, and she turned slightly toward Freya with a wink. Malfoy’s face dropped.

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’, he replied tightly, his jaw clenched.

  ‘Don’t be so impatient, you’ll know very soon.’ Nephelia lifted her arm and uncovered her golden watch to look at it. ‘He should be here right about… Knock, knock, knock. —Now.’, she said as she immediately got back up to tend to the door, leaving a pissed Malfoy alone with Freya and Nina, who exchanged an umpteenth confused look.

  ‘What a fucking prick.’, Nina whispered through her teeth as she grabbed the scrambled eggs, her muttering covered by the door’s clanking.

  ‘Shhh.’, Freya hissed quietly, grabbing two toasts and a pot of strawberry jam.

  ‘Who’s coming?’

  ‘No idea.’,

  Freya glanced at Malfoy, who kept a close watch on the dining room’s doorframe with an upset look of his bony face.

  Two muffled voices rose from the corridor. One was Nephelia’s, the other was masculine. Malfoy immediately scoffed.

  ‘Oh… Sweet Circe, give me strength…’, he muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d clearly recognized the voice.

  Freya’s ears perked up but she didn’t turn— she kept spreading jam on her toast, slowly, before taking a huge bite. It wasn’t Potter’s, she was certain of it.

  Footsteps echoed down the hallway, steady and unhurried, until they paused just outside the room. Malfoy looked up and, with a voice that oozed fake cheer and premature exhaustion, drawled:

  ‘Hawthorne’.

Chapter Text

  Freya choked on her toast.

  She erupted into a violent coughing fit, spraying crumbs across her plate and straight into her glass despite her efforts to keep her mouth closed. Snatching a towel, she buried her face in it, mortified, while Nina gently patted her back.

   ‘Freya, are you okay?’ Nephelia asked from behind Malfoy, one eyebrow arched.

   ‘Ugh… Yeah…’ Freya rasped, finally managing to swallow, still spluttering. She emerged from the towel red-faced and teary-eyed, her cheeks now flushed with both embarrassment and exertion. She blinked, scanned the room cautiously, met everyone’s gaze one by one—until she turned around.

  And nearly choked a second time.

  He stood in the doorway, one hand resting lightly on the doorframe, the other resting on his hip.

  Freya blinked.

  It wasn’t Hawthorne. At least not the Hawthorne she had met the week before — but the resemblance was unmistakable.

  The same eyes, though his were not of her future Transfiguration teacher’s extraordinary icy blue-gray hue. His were darker, more steely, and lacking that quiet softness she remembered. The same waves in his hair—though on this man, they were longer, rougher, falling past his ears like an unruly ash-blonde mane streaked with silver. He was shorter, broader in the shoulders, built like someone who used to be athletic but now let the years settle in his frame. Handsome —undeniably so—but not in the angelic, luminous way the younger Hawthorne was. He was definitely older. And there was something harder about him… Something Freya couldn’t quite place. His gaze fell on her.

  ‘Oh well… I see I’ve made a memorable first impression.’, he said, flashing a warm and self-assured smile, his voice low and smooth—lower and more brassy than the younger Hawthorne’s. ‘Are you alright?’, he asked softly.

  ‘Y-Yes… Ahem… Thank you… Ahem…’, she choked out, holding her throat.

  She wished the floor could swallow her whole.

  ‘Tiberius Hawthorne’, he added, placing a hand to his large chest, bowing ever so slightly, ‘Charmed… I hope.’

  ‘You won’t be.’, Malfoy muttered in his cup of coffee, just loud enough to be heard.

  Tiberius Hawthorne grinned wider, without looking his way.

  ‘Lovely as always, Malfoy.’

  The latter rolled his eyes with such force Freya feared they’d get stuck.

  He entered the room and walked around the table with the ease of someone completely at home, his head high, allowing everyone to admire his polished outfit : a cream-colored shirt with a gold-embroidered collar, tucked into a pair of pale blue-grey pleated pants. Three golden rings hung to each of his earlobes and moved with each of his steps. ‘Quite the welcome committee.’, he added with a little chuckle.

  ‘Take a seat, Hawthorne.’, Nephelia said as she pulled the chair next to her for him to sit on. ‘We were just starting breakfast and briefing Miss Toscani of today’s program.’

  ‘Miss…’ he sat with a grunt, ‘Freya Toscani.’ His steel gaze landed on Freya again —who was still trying to breathe normally— this time softer, curious. ‘The muggle-turned-witch, blessed with unsuspected powers. I’ve heard a lot about you already. You’re quite the talk of the town these days, you know? I’m enchanted to finally meet you.’

  Freya could only offer a strangled sound that landed somewhere between a laugh and a cough. Malfoy scoffed again. Nephelia tensed, shooting him a hard glare.

  ‘And this,’ Toberius Hawthorne continued, turning his attention to Nina, ‘must be the formidable Miss Nina Harker. The young woman who fought one of the most dangerous wizards of the country to protect her friend… With nothing but her fists and sheer bravery.’ His tone wasn’t mocking. If anything, it was admiring.

  Freya turned to Nina. Her friend’s expression remained unreadable, but the way her eyes flickered down for the briefest second betrayed how she really felt.

  Freya felt terribly out of place in this new environment, but Nina had been far more mistreated than her and severely undercredited by the magical folk since they arrived here. Finally, someone was giving her the recognition she deserved.

  ‘There’s nothing brave in protecting your loved ones, sir.’, she mumbled, to which Tiberius Hawthorne nodded appreciatively.

  ‘And humble at that, I see.’, he replied kindly. His gaze lingered, warm and respectful. Nina flushed, almost imperceptibly. Malfoy cleared his throat. Nephelia clicked her tongue. Hawthorne continued. ‘How have you been adjusting, ladies? I have no doubt this rather… chaotic situation must be absolutely exhausting for you.’ His tone was hushed, soothing, just like the younger Hawthorne’s. Freya smiled timidly at him.

  ‘It’s… Not easy.’, she let out weakly.

  Hawthorne held her gaze with remarkable softness. He seemed to understand all the unspoken truths behind her simple answer.

  Hawthorne hummed softly, nodding, his eyes flicking down pensively. ‘You’re braver than most of us. Both of you… No amount of magic can rival the strength it takes to stand on your own two feet after what you endured. That is true power.’

  ‘Ah!’, Malfoy exclaimed dramatically from the end of the table, ’What a terrible day to have ears, really. Now, if you’re quite finished dazzling the room, Hawthorne, perhaps we could move on to the actual matter.’ Hawthorne turned leisurely in his chair.

  ‘Oh, my apologies, Malfoy. I sometimes forget not all company enjoys warmth and basic decency. Straight to the matter, then.’, he replied, still with his calm, self-assured smile, sitting back calmly.

  Nina snorted. Malfoy gave her a poisonous once-over.

  ‘Yes, straight to the matter.’ Nephelia interrupted sharply. Malfoy scowled. Hawthorne smiled satisfyingly. ‘If you’ll allow me, Hawthorne, I’ll introduce you properly.’

  ‘By all means.’, Hawthorne purred, taking an apple from the fruit pile with a graceful flick of his wrist.

   Nephelia cleared her throat and straightened up, as if giving a presentation.

  ‘Ladies, Tiberius Hawthorne is one of the three Plenipotentiary Ambassadors at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He’s attached to the Bureau of European Magical Diplomacy, and represents Great Britain to foreign magical governments.’ Freya got lost after the word « Ambassador », but blinked and nodded politely. ‘He kindly took time off from his vacation to assist today, Freya. He and Malfoy will introduce you to the basics of spellcraft, and tell you a bit more about what’s going on outside in the meanti—.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say it like that, Igwe.’, Hawthorne interjected with a contained chuckle and a dismissive wave as he glanced at Freya, ‘All I did was help my dear little brother —Cyrus, yes? I believe you’ve met— and lighten his work load. He was the one who was originally asked to come here today. And in true Cyrus fashion, he eagerly said yes before even glancing at his already packed schedule. That boy’s heart is bigger than his sense of self-preservation. Always taking on more than he should, always putting others first… Bless his excellent soul. That’s going to be his undoing one day…’ He shook his head in fond exasperation, ‘He’s greatly concerned about you two, you should know?’, he continued, waving his finger between Freya and Nina, ‘He said your bond, your resilience — are extraordinary.’

  Freya blinked again, a warmth creeping in her chest, all the way up to her cheeks. Nephelia breathed in to resume her speech, but Hawthorne kept going.

  ‘Anyway, seeing how burdened and distressed he was with all of his Hogwarts duties, I thought I’d step in. And as for you…’, his eyes flickered back to Freya with warm amusement, ‘… well, helping someone so special find her footing in the Wizarding world? That’s hardly a chore. That’s a privilege. So, not to worry. I am not taking time off from my vacation. I am merely doing my duty.’

  Freya nodded and chuckled timidly.

  ‘Erm…‘, she started, a bit overwhelmed, ‘Well, that’s—‘

  ‘Are you done?’, Malfoy interjected, his voice detached, absorbed in the absent observation of the silver snake at the top of his cane.

  Freya clenched her jaw. This man really seemed allergic to any form of kindness and was visibly on a mission to let everyone know.

  Hawthorne sighed, his grin never leaving his lips, then sat back in his chair once again.

  ‘I am indeed.’, he replied calmly, biting in his apple.

  ‘Merlin be praised…’, Malfoy sneered. There was a collective groan. He paid no attention to it and raised his pale gaze toward Freya. ‘We don’t have much time. Miss Toscani needs to learn how to hone her magical abilities quickly before she actually kills someone.’ A new glimmer of irritation flashed in Freya’s eyes. ‘I have a program in mind, Hawthorne.’, he announced, now glaring back at the steel-eyed man sitting in front of her, ‘So please. Do not interfere with it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare.’, the latter replied smoothly, his lips curled into a little smirk before taking another bite of his apple.

  Malfoy let his scornful gaze linger on him, a biting comeback visibly threatening to shoot out of his mouth.

  ‘You’re not staying this morning, are you, Igwe?’, Hawthorne asked, chewing on his apple, cutting through the tension. Nephelia sighed and shook her head.

  ‘No, I’m not staying. Emergency meeting at the Ministry.’ she replied, hastily grabbing her cup of coffee. When she lifted it to her lips, the front page of the folded newspaper remained stuck to its base, long enough for Freya to catch the acronym M.L.E.P in big, bold letters on the main headline before it slipped back on the table. She leaned forward to read more, but Nephelia snatched it up immediately and tucked it under her arm. Skirting around the table, she gulped down her coffee.

  ‘I’m going back upstairs to get ready. I’m leaving in ten minutes.’ she announced as she stopped behind Malfoy’s chair, ‘Behave yourself.’ she muttered between her teeth, to which Malfoy rolled his eyes again.

  ‘Or you’ll tell Professor McGonagall?’, he drawled, his infuriating little smirk creeping back on his face. Nephelia’s features hardened as well as her grip on her cup. ‘Figures. Once a snitch, always a snitch, Igwe.’

  Nephelia straightened up, her nostrils flaring, clearly resisting a great urge to smash her mug directly onto his head. Her eyes flickered toward Freya.

  ‘Hawthorne will take great care of you, Freya. Take what you have to take, alright?’, she said with a strained smile, ‘You’ll do amazing, I’m sure.’

  Freya only had the time to nod before Nephelia disappeared from the dining room, stomping back upstairs, leaving her and Nina alone with the two wizards in an awkward silence only filled with Hawthorne’s chewing noises.

  ‘So.’ Malfoy broke out suddenly, slamming his hand on the table to get everyone’s attention. Freya jumped. ‘The program. Of course, we’ll only be able to touch on the basics, but that’ll probably prepare you just enough for what’s awaiting you in Hogwarts.’

  Her gaze darting between Hawthorne and Malfoy, Freya let out a quiet, shuddering breath.

  ‘And… What are those basics ?’, she asked tentatively, swallowing hard.

  ‘Posture.’, Malfoy drawled back, his silver gaze back on her, ‘Wand-holding, energy and intention channeling, first. We’re all aware by now that your magic is rather… Chaotic. You need to hone it. Keep your emotions in check. For everyone’s safety. We cannot let a brewing hexbomb like you roam Hogwarts’ corridors in the middle of hundreds of students, can we?’ He explained with his habitual scorn. Freya’s throat tightened.

  A brewing hexbomb?

  She didn’t need to master the magical lingo to understand what Malfoy meant. Was that how they considered her, now? A ticking time bomb?

  Nina stiffened next to her. Freya opened her mouth, but Hawthorne cut her off.

  ‘Miss Toscani’s extraordinary display of power was an isolated incident that happened in very specific circumstances, Malfoy.’, he said calmly, his voice smooth but firm, ‘I don’t think it’s fair to treat her like a walking threat when all she did was defend herself and her friend.’

   Freya exhaled, relieved and thankful.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hawthorne.’, Malfoy snarled through his teeth, his head snapping back toward the other end of the table. ‘She is a walking threat, whether we like it or not. You haven’t seen the damage she’s done back in that restaurant.’

  ‘Oh. Have you?’, Hawthorne drawled back insolently, his voice remaining even despite the sudden hardness flashing in his eyes.

  ‘What are you on about?’, Nina interjected coldly, her brown eyes shooting daggers at Malfoy, whose head immediately snapped back toward her, jaw clenched, eyebrows deeply furrowed, ‘She’s the danger now ?! She’s been attacked by what you referred to as one of the most dangerous wizards of the country, and now she’s the hexing time-bomb or whatever?!’

  ‘Miss Harker…’, Hawthorne intervened calmly, raising an appeasing hand.

  ‘I-I never wanted to cause that much damage…’ Freya protested as well, though her voice sounded much weaker than Nina’s, almost as if she wasn’t believing her own words, ‘I didn’t do it on purpose.’

  ‘She didn’t do it on purpose!’, Nina echoed louder while Malfoy tried to speak over her, ‘She just wanted to protect us and get that Gaunt bastard to fuck off! She didn’t control it!

  ‘Ladies…’, Hawthorne intervened again, his low, burnished voice carrying just enough to be heard.

  ‘That’s—that’s true, I didn’t—…’, Freya started, her voice still weak, barely audible in the loudening bickering between Nina and Malfoy. Her heart was thumping in her chest now, so hard she could feel it in her ears. Her face was flushing with anger and shame, and her wand, still tucked in her jumpsuit’s front pocket, was burning against her stomach. She couldn’t see it, but blue little sparks were flickering at its tip.

  ‘What even do you know, Harker?!’, Malfoy finally spat back, his tone viciously poisonous. ‘You are as useless to this conversation as a wand to a Muggle!’

   Freya’s anger boiled over. She shot to her feet.

  ‘Stop it!!!’, she shouted—louder than everyone else. A crack split the air, and a blinding pain tore through her chest.

   ‘AAAH !!!’, she screamed, clutching herself as her legs gave way.

  Her back met the dining room’s tiles with a hard thud. Everyone bolted up, voices rising everywhere around her while she writhed and howled on the floor, hastily yanking her wand out of her front pocket where a charred hole had formed on the fabric. She tossed the burning wand instinctively under the table and rolled on her back.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Nina shrieked, frantically patting Freya’s chest, trying to smother the ice-blue flames devouring her jumpsuit, licking at the bare skin of her throat and breasts.

  The pain was excruciating, maddening, growing exponentially with every heartbeat—as if molten metal were being poured straight into her veins. Her skin sizzled, her breath shortened, the burn spreading deep, all the way to her lungs and heart, rendering her completely powerless.

  She couldn’t hear the chaos above her screams; couldn’t see the shapes looming over her, or the hands grabbing at her. Her vision tunneled, her cries faltering as the pain swallowed her whole. Just before her consciousness slipped away, a feminine voice cut through the commotion.

  Aqualume!

  Then something hit her.

  It was as if she’d been plunged into a flood of cool, silvery water—pure and impossible—snuffing out the fire in an instant. She gasped, desperate and relieved, just before darkness claimed her.

  She lay there for a moment, panting on the cold floor, her mouth and eyes wide open, her vision blurred. Her clenched, trembling hands hovered above her chest, then slowly began to loosen as the pain ebbed away, replaced by a soothing freshness.

  ‘Oh, sweet Merlin…’, the same feminine voice uttered above her. She blinked a few times, looking around, and her eyes immediately fell on Nina and Nephelia, hunched over her, their faces etched with worry.

  ‘Frey… Frey, you okay?’ Nina whimpered, pressing a hand to her forehead. Freya exhaled sharply, still dazed, then pushed herself upright. For a moment, all she could feel was the strange and sudden absence of pain. Then she looked down—her skin was dry, littered with red swirls, and she was, quite unmistakably, half-naked. Her clothes were scorched and open, exposing her more than she could bear. She gasped and immediately covered herself with her arms, flushing with embarrassment.

  ‘Wha-What the fuck happened?’, she breathed out, her arms tightly wrapped around herself, ‘M-my wand…’

  Nephelia, grabbed a towel on the table and, with a flick of her wand, turned it into a larger piece of cream-colored fabric.

  ‘I should be asking you, Freya.’, Nephelia muttered, her yellow eyes wide in worry and a hint of irritation as she threw the piece of fabric around Freya’s shoulders, ‘All I know is that I cannot leave you alone more than five minutes without you getting in trouble!’, she added, her voice tight with contained emotion.

  ‘Hey! Don’t get angry at her, Igwe.’, Nina protested, grabbing Nephelia’s arm firmly.

  ‘I am not angry, Harker, I am distraught!’, Nephelia retorted, yanking her arm free.

  ‘What happened is you conveniently proving my point.’, Malfoy drawled from near the dining room’s entrance. He was leaning against the doorframe, his tall, slim frame turned away from the scene, probably out of respect for Freya’s dignity, ‘Miss Toscani, you are a danger to others and to yourself. An absolute hazard. You just nearly burned yourself alive with your own wand.’

  Freya tightened the fabric around her, shaking, the delicious sensation of freshness still coursing through her limbs, but now absolutely overwhelmed with shame.

  No one spoke for a moment—not even Nina. Malfoy’s words hung in the air like smoke, along with the smell of burnt fabric, heavy and lingering.

  ‘Is that true?’, Nephelia muttered after a pause.

  Freya lowered her eyes. She lifted the hem of the fabric covering her chest and observed the scorched edges of what remained of her jumpsuit and shirt. Then she nodded weakly, trying to process everything, the realization dawning on her.

  Malfoy was right.

  ‘I… I think so…’, she whispered back sheepishly, her gaze now searching the floor around her for her wand, ‘It was in my front pocket… I got a bit angry, and…’

  ‘Where is it?’, Nephelia asked, her eyes darting around too, under the table and chairs, then above it, until she stilled.

  Freya followed her gaze and saw Tiberius Hawthorne, standing on the other side of the table, holding her wand tight in his right hand, observing it closely, almost… Absorbed.

  ‘Hawthorne.’, Malfoy called, his voice calm but firm.

  The latter snapped his head up at Malfoy, a quick, hard glint flashing through his eyes before his features softened.

  ‘Oh. Uh, yes, there it is.’, he huffed out with a little chuckle, ‘It rolled under the table. I thought I’d pick it up before someone stepped on it.’

  ‘Right,’ Malfoy muttered, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze on Hawthorne was all steel — cold and sharp.

  Hawthorne stiffened, almost imperceptibly, then looked away toward Freya, a contrite smile tugging at his lips.

  He walked up to her, still seated on the tiled floor between Nina and Nephelia, and held out her wand.

 ‘There,’ he said softly.

  Freya hesitated. She stared at it as if it might blow up the moment she touched it.

 ‘Don’t be scared,’ he whispered, warm and low. ‘It only reacted to your emotions. You were angry, weren’t you?’ He cocked his head slightly toward Malfoy behind him.

  Freya lowered her eyes, nodded weakly, and took the wand.

  It still trembled in her hand — warm against her palm, alive.

  A faint pulse of blue shimmered at its tip — there, and gone. No one seemed to notice.

  For the first time, the question that had haunted her since the restaurant formed clearly in her mind.

  Was it her magic that had to be feared… or herself?

  ‘Now, if you’re done nearly dying here,’, Malfoy drawled again, ‘perhaps we can begin your tutoring, Miss Toscani.’