Virtually Yours | Draco Malfoy x OC

Chapter Six - Portrait

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At the end of their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Lupin had called for Freya and Harry to stay behind for a moment. So, Freya told Neville that she'd catch up with him and awaited whatever lecture was in store for her. She was sure she was going to get detention for arguing with Malfoy while he taught his lesson.

"I'm sure you know why I've asked you to stay behind." He says, pointedly, his arms crossed in front of him.

Freya cast her eyes down, counting the cracks in the floorboard. It was better than noting the disappointment in his eyes.

"Because of the Dementor?" Harry says, and Freya steals a look.

"Yes," Lupin sighs, turning to face the concealed wardrobe. "I understand that the both of you feel... more affected than the others in the Dementor's presence."

He glances back and forth between Harry and Freya, who nod slowly.

"Well," Freya speaks up, her voice thick. "I- I didn't faint... like Harry does."

"I didn't faint this time!" Harry says suddenly, his voice rising as if she's offended him.

"Yeah, because the Professor had to jump in and save you!" Freya snaps, frowning at his response.

"Well, at least I didn't fall on my arse!"

Freya's mouth opens in shock, before stepping forwards threateningly.

"Y'know-"

"That's enough!" Lupin bellows, silencing them with a swift wave of his hand. "The reason the both of you feel the effects of the Dementor more than anyone else, is because you two have experienced death in ways that others haven't."

Lupin places a firm hand on each of their shoulders, leaning in closer.

"I can help you," He practically whispers. "I can help you conjure a Patronus that will keep the Dementor's away."

"How?" Freya says, her voice barely audible.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm rather busy this term, but... I'll try and help. Now I don't claim to be an expert on fighting the Dementor's, but..." He trails off.

He steps backwards, and brushes an imaginary bit of lint from his patchy cloak.

"You had better be going," He says casually. "Don't want to be late."

With a puzzled glance at one another, Harry and Freya collect their bags from the back of the room.

"Actually, Freya. A word." Lupin calls, gesturing with a swift wave of his hand.

"Yes, professor?"

"What you saw," he says, after a slight pause. "What the Boggart showed you. It wasn't your fault."

Freya's eyes trail back to the still rattling wardrobe.

"Accidents happen all the time, I know that better than most. You mustn't blame your-"

"Of course I should!" She blurts. "They're dead. Because of me. That's something that's probably gonna haunt me for the rest of my life and you're saying I shouldn't blame myself? Professor, I let my anger get the best of me, like I always do, and my parents are the one's who suffered from it."

Freya shrugs her bag onto her shoulder.

"God, maybe if I had known about this... this world of magic, then maybe it never would have happened," Freya takes a breath, that she didn't know she needed. "I should have been the one. I should have died that day, not them."