SEVENTY-SIX

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FREYA COULD FEEL her splitting headache before her eyes even had a chance to flutter open. The numb pain sat directly in the middle of her skull, throbbing. When she finally managed to open her eyes, they were met with a ceiling she didn't recognize.

"Freya? Are you awake?" Freya's eyes settled on Ginny Weasley, whose hands were ringing out a wet cloth.

"I think so," She answered, propping herself up on her elbows and looking at the room around her, "Where are we?"

"The Room of Requirement." Luna Lovegood piped up from the girls other side, causing her head to turn, which also happened to cause a spike her headache.

"We brought you here after class," Ginny handed Freya the cloth and she placed it on her forehead, "You're heavier than you look by the way."

"Ouch," Freya stifled a laugh, which once again made her head pound harder.

The room was empty besides the three girls. It was smaller than Freya had remembered from her time in the DA.

"It changes you know," Luna noticed Freya looking around the room with a confused face, "To whatever you need!"

Freya admired her tone. Despite literally everything going to shit around them, Luna Lovegood still managed to have some sense of joy about her.

"Where's Neville?" She asked, sitting up fully this time.

"He-" Ginny's mouth creased, "He took it really hard Freya."

"Ginny answer the question."

"He's up in the common room, but he hasn't come down or spoken a word to anyone in hours."

"I need to talk to him," Freya started to stand, her body not quite agreeing with her.

"Freya you can barely stand," Ginny argued, but knew she would get nowhere with the stubborn blonde in front of her.

"I'm going."





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Freya had stumbled her way back to the Fat Lady, who raised an eyebrow as she tumbled through the portrait and into the common room. She didn't see Neville sitting anywhere, which meant he was up in the room that now only he occupied.

Normally he would've been surrounded by Harry, Ron, and Dean Thomas, but when Freya climbed up the stairs she saw the boy sitting there, all alone.

"Neville?" She called out to the boy, who was sitting at the edge of his bed, his eyes glued to his lap. He didn't respond to her and remained in his stoic position.

Freya went over to the boy and took the seat beside him. She didn't push him further to answer her, but rather she just sat next to him, offering her silent support. The blonde placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and she could feel his body relax ever so slightly.

After a few quiet moments, Neville shifted his gaze up Freya, who was patiently waiting. His eyes were filled with tears that slowly streamed down his pink cheeks.

"Freya I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am," He apologized profusely, only making his tears fall faster, "I should've done something and I just sat there-"

Freya cut him off by wrapping her arms around him in a soft hug, "You didn't do anything wrong Neville."

"I did," He sniffled, still tight in her embrace, "I was a coward."

Freya pulled back and looked at him as he wiped a tear from his face.

"You are not a coward Neville Longbottom," The blonde said in a very firm tone, "Not in the slightest."

Neville sniffled again, clearly exhausted from the days events. The two teenagers sat next to each other before Neville placed his head on Freya's shoulder. She allowed herself to smile as he finally caught his breath and calmed down.

"It's what they did to my parents," He spoke up, but his head still laying there, "The curse."

Freya's smile was gone almost as fast as it had came. She knew Neville had always lived with his Gran, but they never really got into why.

"They tortured them so much that there was nothing left," He sighed, "They just sit there in St. Mungos, waiting to die."

The blonde's heart broke as he shared his story. It made her think of her own Mother, towards the end of her chemotherapy. Naomi could barely function, the girl remembered it like seeing an empty shell of a woman that used to be her mother.

"-they were torturing you, just like them," Neville whimpered, "and I just sat there."

"There was nothing you could do," Freya insisted, "Not without causing more trouble than it was worth."

"I'm still sorry," He looked at her genuinely, "I'm so so sorry Freya."

"Don't be."





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That night Freya laid in bed wide awake, unable to sleep. She tossed and turned in her maroon sheets. You'd think as traumatizing a day as she had, it would warrant some well-deserved sleep, but there she was awake as could be.

The blonde decided rather than wake Ginny who was a bed over, she would go sit in the living room. She silently climbed out of bed and down the stairs. Freya plopped down in front of the roaring fire that was a constant flame.

She pulled her legs up to her chest in the chair, like she used to do when she was a child. Freya thought back to her first few years at Hogwarts. For being as loud and proud as she was, she was an incredibly lonely child. The blonde loved Hogwarts of course, but she had always looked forward to summer above all else. Returning to her family made her more happy than anything, that was, until she finally made some friends of her own.

Sitting in front of the fire by herself reminded her of those first few years spent at school. It made her miss her family. She knew the coming summer wasn't going to be what she longed for. Frankly, she wasn't even sure she would be making it to the summer.

Freya then thought again of her mother.

She sat and wondered what it would be like to see her again if everything went south. She liked to think Naomi would be there waiting for her.

Would she be proud of the woman Freya had become?

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