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It had been a few days since Sybill caused Freya's nightmares to become more constant, and the blonde still found herself recalling the words as she picked at her eggs over breakfast.

"Do you play Quidditch?" James interrupted her thoughts with a question directed at Lily with his usual smirk. It was obvious to them all that the inquiry was purely for whatever flirty remark was to follow.

"Because you sure are a Keeper."

The redhead's cheeks were overcome with the lightest of blushes as she rolled her eyes, "I'm already dating you, dork."

"I didn't teach him that," Sirius emphasized with a groan.

Nothing could keep his mind off his father, wether the room was silent and deserted or busy and filled to the brim. However, Lily helped tremendously with his route to recovery. She was not a distraction, but a supporter — and that was exactly what he needed during his period of grief.

"Speaking of Quidditch," Sirius stated quickly in order to avoid any more witty remarks between the pair. He stood from his seat in between Remus and Freya, "Prongs, we better get going before we miss warmups."

The Chaser nodded and grabbed a few extra breakfast items from the various platters spread out across the Gryffindor's table in the Great Hall.

"Marlene isn't here so," Sirius leaned over and pecked Remus on the cheek, "Moony'll have to do as my good luck charm."

Nobody commented on the antics. As James turned to the exit, his eyes narrowed at the barely visible tray of muffins that sat across the spacious room on the Hufflepuff's table.

"I swear the best food is always on their bloody side, look at those muffins!"

Lily rolled her eyes, "You're imagining things again, Potter."

"We should really go to the kitchens and talk to the house elves about this because I'm certain that they get the best muffins every morning —"

"Accio muffins," muttered Freya, and with a quick aim of her wand, the tray of pastries levitated only momentarily above the table of students in bright yellow before it slung with remarkable speed towards them. The plate clattered, luckily, in between a dish of breads and a pot of steaming tea.

James grinned, "Bless you, Freya Bradberry."

At the same time the boy spoke her name, another shrill voice sounded from across the room. Though the students in the hall only payed attention to the ruckus caused by the Marauders end of the table for a matter of seconds before turning back to their own plates, Professor Brinkley did no such thing. The woman neared them with a stern look of disapproval.

"Good job, love," Remus stated sarcastically and took a muffin from the tray she had summoned, Freya glared back in return.

"Oh no," Mary groaned, "Professor Binkley is coming, that woman hates me. I wish Professor Lester had stayed for more than a year . . . She makes Defense Against the Dark Arts unbearable."

"Well I don't think she'll be getting onto you this time, Mary," Lily commented with a raised brow and a this-is-your-own-damn-fault look directed at Freya.

"Miss Bradberry," the elderly professor exclaimed in shock upon arriving at the table.

She was a stout woman that always wore multicolored bracelets around her wrist. Her greying hair was braided back into a thin bun, and a firm line was always present across her lips. The wrinkled markings on her face only deepened her lack of amusement.

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