freya mckinnon may share the same face as her aunt marlene, but she was more than just the niece of a war heroine, though no one seemed to see that. no one but george weasley, her rival on the quidditch pitch who quickly became so much more.
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PROLOGUE: DAY OF MOURNING
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IT WAS A WARM Summer's evening in July 1981. Three-year-old Freya McKinnon was running laps around the living room of the Weasley home with Fred and George Weasley chasing after her, light blonde hair stark against the Weasley red. She was oblivious to the tears in her father's eyes, the hushed whispers of the Order of the Phoenix as they discussed the recent losses on their side of the war; the McKinnon family. Young Freya didn't understand the deaths of her mother, aunt and grandparents. All she knew was that she hadn't seen them for a while and that her dad was unusually sad.
"She keeps asking for Estelle," Fraser McKinnon muttered as the Order lapsed into a moment of silence. He was watching his daughter giggle with George Weasley, who seemed happy to have her attention. Lily Potter sighed, reaching for her friend's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. The McKinnons had only been dead for a week, but it already felt like a lifetime had passed for those who loved them the most. "I don't know what to tell her that won't upset her."
"She's going to realise something's wrong sooner or later," Remus Lupin spoke up, sympathetic but not unreasonable. Freya was a child, but if her family suddenly disappeared out of her life, she was going to notice. Fraser couldn't keep saying they were on holiday forever. Soon, one week away would turn into a month, then two months, and before either of them knew it, years would have gone by and the holiday would be far from over.
"I know that," Fraser sighed in muted defeat. He wished he could keep Freya's smile on her face forever but in times like these, nothing was certain anymore. "I'll figure something out."
"We're here for you, Fraser," Lily assured him, leaning into James' side as he and the others nodded in agreement with her. "If you need anything, you can come to us."
Fraser gave a weak nod before rising to his feet and crossing the room to where George was attempting to give Freya a piggyback ride. "Hey, Frey, it's time to go."
"No," the little girl immediately started to whine, pouting up at her dad as George dropped her to the floor. "Five more minutes, daddy."
"You can come back tomorrow, love," he promised his daughter, who sighed unhappily but allowed him to pick her up anyway. "Now say goodbye to the boys."
"Bye, Freddie!" Freya waved to the boy on the other side of the room. He was taunting his baby brother, Ron, with a teddy bear but he paused to wave back. Freya then turned to George, blowing him a kiss and giggling as he grinned up at her, one of his front teeth obviously missing. "Goodbye, Georgie."
"See ya, Frey."
Freya waved at him over Fraser's shoulder before turning to her dad with a hopeful glint in her eyes. Fraser sighed, knowing what that look meant. He'd seen it too many times in the past week not to recognise it by then.
"Are we going to see mummy and aunty Mar?" Freya asked, blinking at him with wide green eyes. The same eyes as her mother. The sight prompted an ache in Fraser's chest.
"Not today, sweetie."
"But I wanna see mummy," she cried, banging her tiny fists on his shoulders pleadingly. "Please take me to mummy, daddy, I miss her."
"I know you do, sweetie, I do too," he whispered as he acknowledged the Order, who wore pity in their eyes as they watched the only living McKinnons leave the Weasley household to apparate back to their own home. "But their holiday isn't over yet, love, you just have to be patient."
But no matter how patient Freya McKinnon was, she'd never see her mum and aunt again. Not while she was alive, at least. Freya would only realise this when she was a little older, when her dad put her into muggle primary school for extra education and one of the oblivious kids in her class turned to her and asked, "Is it true that your mummy and aunty were killed?" That day, Freya went home and cried her eyes out to her dad, who didn't know what to say as his daughter sobbed into his chest, "you said mummy was on holiday!"
And from there, it begun. Everywhere she went, Freya was reminded of her family's tragedy. Of the death and destruction, of the expectations that came with being a McKinnon, much less one who looked like her dead aunt. The little girl who played with George Weasley that Summer evening in 1981 was long gone, replaced by a striking blonde-haired beauty who could never ever be Marlene McKinnon or Estelle Davies.
