SEVENTY-FIVE

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"I CAN'T DO it," Freya groaned as she laid out on one of the numerous chairs within the Gryffindor common room, "I can't fucking listen to one more bloody lesson about how muggles are stupid and dirty animals."

"It's awful." Neville shuddered as he shook his head.

"I mean who do the Carrow's think they are?" The blonde continued her rant, "How does one's brain get so massively fucked up?"

"I just can't believe we are actually taking a class called dark arts," Ginny scoffed, "Is that some kind of joke?"

The three Gryffindors continued their long list of complaints after finishing their first official month back at school. Horrible didn't even begin to describe the conditions at Hogwarts. Class had been changed, Professors were Death Eaters, everything was chaos.

Freya was barely scraping by. Each class she sat in pushed to her limit. It took all her might to bite her tongue as she was told the "atrocities" of the muggle world, and all they had done to hinder wizards throughout time. She knew for her own good it was best to keep her mouth shut and eyes forward. The only time she felt any sort of enjoyment was in Professor McGonagall's class, as she was one of the only adults who didn't cower in fear of the dark forcing leading the curriculum.

"Did you hear?"

All the sudden Lavender Brown came racing into the common room, causing the three already sitting to jump.

"They broke into the ministry!" Lavender's eyes were large, and her hair was slowly falling from her ponytail, a consequence of running from wherever she had heard the news.

"What?" Ginny scrunched her face in confusion.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione," The girl continued, fighting for her breath as she explained, "They used polyjuice potion."

"Bloody hell," Freya could feel a headache forming as she sighed. She had spent so many days worrying for Harry, so much so, she wished she would write something just to know what he was doing.

It had been a while since anything had come off the tip of her quill and the blonde was concerned.

The weeks following didn't provide any further clarity on what the trio was up to. In the meantime, Hogwarts was only getting worse.

"Ahem," Amycus Carrow cleared his throat abruptly, "I asked you a question Miss Majors,"

Freya stared blankly at the man in front of her, her face growing pale as his black eyes met hers.

"Practice is important, is it not?" He had repeated the question, a dark glint in Amycus's eyes sent chills down her spine.

"Usually." She murmured, finally breaking eye contact.

"I'm glad you agree," Amycus sneered giving a dramatic flip of his robes, "Sister dearest, you can bring them in now."

The entire class looked confused as the the door to the front creaked open and Alecto Carrow walked in. Behind her was a line of smaller students, their eyes wide as they walked into the room

"Are those first-years?" Neville whispered to Freya who was sitting next to him.

The blonde's eyes were trained to the front of the room, with a haunted look on her face.

"I trust you're all aware of the Cruciatus Curse?" Carrow bellowed, "Who wants to go first?"

The students were horrified. Freya felt her own heart drop deep into her chest. Neville shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face had become sweaty and cold.

Freya felt her hands grasp into fists underneath her desk, so hard that her nails left small imprints on her palm. At first no one said a word, only looks were exchanged between the class.

"Don't be shy now," Alecto snickered, walking around the small line of first-years. She inspected them like cattle headed for slaughter, looking them up and down as she past by. Alecto paused for a moment, displaying herself deep in thought before touching the shoulder of a young boy, "Step forward now."

The boy's body clearly tensed at the touch before nervously taking a step ahead of his classmates. His curly brown hair fell in front of his eyes, which he quickly wiped away in a panic. Freya could see the slight buckling of his knees as he stood still.

She glanced over to Neville who looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Freya could feel his leg shake in the desk beside her, it took all her power not to place her hand on his shoulder, but she knew better than to draw attention. However it seemed her effort of restraint was wasted, as Amycus settled his gaze on her friend.

"Longbottom," His voice was dripping with venom, "Surely you know this one?"

Neville didn't respond, his eyes were looking straight ahead, focused on the door.

"Wakey wakey Longbottom," Alecto chimed in this time, "We haven't got all day."

Freya could see the tears welling in her best friend's eyes and it broke her heart. She could feel her anger boiling inside her, the only thing keeping her glued to her seat was fear. Fear for what would happen to her, but more importantly what would happen to everyone around her.

"Last chance Longb-"

"STOP." Freya suddenly cried out. Her lips were moving before her brain even had a chance to protest.

The classes gaze was now shifted to the blonde, who could hear her own heartbeat racing in her ears.

"What's this?" Amycus turned to her, now walking over to where Freya Majors stood out of her chair, "A volunteer?"

"I won't do it." The blonde spoke clearly, not an ounce of hesitation in her voice. Her eyes focused beyond the body of Amycus, who stared intently at her.

Neville was still frozen in his seat, unbreaking his concentration and his leg tapping even faster than before.

"Oh well that's okay sweets," Amycus grinned, "Who here would like to perform the curse on Miss Majors instead?"

The room was quiet, until a small perfectly polished hand shot into the air.

"I'll do it Professor." Pansy Parkinson arose from her seat. Her bangs laid flat again her forehead, coated with a layer of grease and her face dawned a nervous smile.

Freya hadn't realized she was holding her breath as the small Slytherin walked over to her. The blonde stood a few inches over her, but in that moment she felt like the smallest person in the room.

"This is probably gonna hurt," Pansy snorted, raising her wand, "Crucio."

All the nerves in Freya's body suddenly had lit on fire. It was pain beyond anything she had ever experienced, her very bones felt as though they were melting inside her skin. Freya could feel her eyes were rolling madly into the back of her head. She wanted desperately for it to end.

Between gasps all she could see was a blinding white light. Each breath felt like a thousand knifes stabbing into every inch of her pale skin. As she writhed in pain the only image in her mind was Harry. His messy black hair and unmistakeable green eyes looking deep into hers, as he reached out a hand.

That was the last thing Freya Majors saw before her vision turned black.

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