CRINGY AS FUCK READ AT OWN RISK
Freya Taschereau was Tom Riddle's first and last love. She was an aristocratic witch, with intelligence that sparkles in her eyes. She was beautiful, kind, and stubborn. But to him all she would ever be was his. From...
When he heard someone coming he quickly shut the case file, and left the office. He kept his eyes forward and mimicked Charles' earlier walk. When he returned to the closet he returned the wand and ensured that Charles would wake up in around twenty minutes.
He then left the ministry for magic without another thought, he went to the fireplace in the leaky cauldron to floo back.
When he arrived at Hogwarts, he knew that there was one thing that he had to do.
He had to find out what was in that file.
~•~
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"Freya?" Called Candace.
"Yes, look, Frank let me borrow his glasses isn't that fabulous?"
"Yes, you're looking more like your father everyday."
"You take that back." Said Freya.
"I'm kidding. You need to pack." Said Candace.
"Oh right. My Grandmother will be so happy at the company I'm bringing." Said Freya.
"I know she will be." Said Candace.
"And is he coming?" Asked Candace.
"Is who coming?"
"You know..."
"Who?"
"Tom, your boyfriend who loves you, did you think to invite him?"
"He hasn't replied to my last letter, I don't want to seem desperate." Said Freya.
"Says the girl who once waited sixteen hours to get Marlon Brando tickets."
"That was worth it. With Tom all I'll get is around three consistent letters, then nothing. And in person he tries to distract me with Emperor Penguins, tries to get me drunk, and distract me with his Tongue." Said Freya. "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Candy, I mean his manner of speech."
Candace just shrugged.
"You should have just called in a favor for those tickets." Said Candace.
"If I always call in favors I'll lose all my humanity." Said Freya.
"Can I bring Olly, you two are finally getting along with each other again."
"Sure." Said Freya, shrugging. "Grandmother loves him, but then again she loves everyone."
"Wear something nice, she loves making you spin for her friends, those old ladies loves you."
"They love you too." Said Freya
"They always point at what I'm wearing and whisper in hushed voices." Said Candace, shrugging.
"That's just because they're jealous." Said Freya, putting down her work.
They were in one of Freya's Spanish offices. They had gotten there a few days ago and were enjoying the weather.
"Let's go to the Alhambra." Said Candace.
"We need to work." Said Freya.
"We can start a travel column, besides, what's one day off gonna do?" Asked Candace.
"Give people reason to think that we're unprofessional." Said Freya
"Do we really care about what they think?" Asked Candace. "Have you seen Jane recently?" Asked Candace with an air of casualty that failed to be casual.
"Yes, why?"
"She just came to see me a while back." Said Candace, "begged me to give you this letter." Candace handed Freya a long letter.
"How long have you had this?" Asked Freya.
"A while now, I was waiting for the right time."
"Fine." Freya Said in a short voice. Candace took the hint and left the office.
Freya, It took me a while to break the imperious spell your boyfriend placed on me but I've finally succeeded. I did not leave you. I was and am in love with you. You don't feel the same way, I can tell, but you are like a mythical creature. Everyone you meet falls in love with you in one way or another. I am no exception. I want you back, Frey, please. Tom is not good, he is pure darkness while you are pure light. Since I lost you, I lost my job and I've been lost, so lost. You are my anchor, without you I'm adrift in the world. Dump Tom. I am sorry that you lost your family, but you shouldn't let their deaths stop you from being with who you were meant to be with.
Love, Jane
Freya crumpled up the letter and threw it to the side. She was so finished with everything. She was angry that Jane had left her, that Candace had kept this letter from her, that Tom couldn't seem to be bothered to show up when she needed him or to write her back. She was angry that everyone was telling her what to do. She hated being in a tug of war while it seemed like both of her options wanted her for selfish reasons. She was angry that Tom had only chosen to show when he knew his so called competition was going to show up. She was angry that a few little words from his lips were enough to make her knees go weak.
She was furious.
Freya stood up and walked out of her office, she walked until she had reached her private quarters, looked the door. The waves of energy radiating off of her shook the building. Everything she touched burst into flame or froze. Gold mist seemed to be taking the room over as it slowly covered every surface.
She couldn't control herself any more shaking, she apparated to the Chateaux Taschereau, She walked the halls aimlessly stopping only in the door frame of Chelsea's room. She should've lived. That little girl had not deserved to die. Freya saw the gold mist encircle the room again, her back twinged. She walked into her father's office, something she hadn't dared to do since his death. She sat at the desk. She opened each drawer, until she found one that was locked. But the second time she tried it, the lock melted off.
The drawer opened to reveal a box, and a journal. She tentatively opened the box to find a series of pictures.
A younger version of her father was standing next to a woman who was Freya's spitting image, except the eyes. He looked happy. Happier than Freya had ever seen him in her life.
Morganna et Moi, Paris
Morganna, That was her mother's name. Freya looked over the rest of them. There were pictures of her mother and father all over Paris. Until she reached her father's wedding photo with her then very young probably eighteen step mother. Her step mother had a look in her eye as though she was showing the world what she had caught. After that there was a photo of Freya. It was of her when she was eight shaking hands with her father. It was a Newspaper clipping. Then one of her debut into society when she was thirteen. Then one when she was fifteen when Chelsea had been born again her step mother had had the same 'look who I trapped' look in her eye.
Freya couldn't think straight. Her father had presumably loved her, but had expressed it in weird ways. She left the journal for another time, there was only so much she could take. She felt the room begin to get covered in the golden mist and two spots on her back began to hurt. She staggered under the pain. She stood and went to her room. She turned her back to a mirror to see that there were two bloody marks on her back. She gasped as she noticed two objects began to protrude from her back.
