Audacity. | Harry Potter

FIFTY-FIVE

Her eyes were beginning to blur, but the blonde had just enough vision to watch Harry fall to the ground.

Cormac, the idiot he was, smashed Harry's skull, and in turn Freya's as well.

The mix of pain and pure adrenaline rushed through Freya's veins as she tried to keep enough composure as to not draw attention to her, but it was too late, Neville had seen her obvious pain and began questioning her immediately.

"Freya? Are you okay?" Neville asked, a concerned look on his face.

At that point Freya was hardly standing on her feet, fighting every instinct she had not to fall to the ground and let her eyes fade to black. Through all the pain she remained loyal to her mission of keeping her secret. Lucky enough for her, everyone had rushed to Harry's aid and was very intently focused on him.

The stammering blonde mustered up enough strength to bring a finger to mouth, motioning for the boy to keep quiet, "Dumbledore's office."

Neville wasn't entirely sure what to make of what was happening in front of him, but he didn't have much time to figure it out because that very moment Freya Majors had fallen nearly limp in his arms.

The boy thought that he would be overcome with panic, but rather, most likely brought about by shock, he was able to hold her up and remain calm. As gently as he could he picked up the blonde and laid her over his shoulder, taking her to where her last words instructed.

»»-------------¤-------------««

When Freya opened her eyes the first thing she noticed was the fact that her head still very much hurt.

You'd think living in a world with Witches and Wizards they would make a quicker way to heal them up. She knew she felt better though, it was more of a dull ache, rather than a splitting pain. The blondes mind was scattered about has she tried to put the pieces of what happened together but was interrupted by the voice of her Headamaster, causing her to realize she was in fact in his office.

"Miss Majors, I see you had quite the accident."

"Was it technically my accident?" Freya sat up, gently rubbing her temple in attempts to ease her discomfort.

"I suppose not," Dumbledore chuckled slightly, "Either way I'm sure you have quite the headache."

Freya nodded ever since slightly, in fears of making her pain worse, "Is Harry alright?"

"I'm sure he's in the same discomfort as you but yes," The headmaster continued, "He is in fact alright."

"That's good," Freya acknowledged, "Although I guess I should've known he was fine, if he were dead I certainly wouldn't be talking to you right now."

"A true fact," Dumbledore agreed, "You're lucky Mr. Longbottom was able to interpret your message and carry you here, rather than the hospital wing."

"Neville," Freya spoke as she thought about the boy and his kindness towards her, "Did he understand what happened?"

"No surely not, but I gave him enough to keep quiet about what it was in fact he saw."

Freya didn't have much of a response to his statement, so she remained silent for the moment. Her head was slowly getting better, but taking a beaters bat to the head was definitely something she'd have to sleep off.

"While I have you hear Miss Majors," Dumbledore cut in again, "I do think there is something we should discuss."

Remembering the last conversation her headmaster had started like this made Freya's blood run cold, "What would that be Headmaster?"

The old man repositioned himself slightly and met her eyes. Freya could tell there was something behind them, but she couldn't quite fake out what the feeling was. Somewhere between pity and all knowing.

"I understand you and Harry have been involved with each other," He began, "I do believe it might be best if that was reconsidered."

The blonde was dumbfounded at the words coming out of Dumbledore's mouth. Her mind was running a million miles a minute and her fast heartbeat filled her ears.

"For the safety of both of you, and the world as we know it," The man continued, not yet catching on to Freya's now manic state, "We cannot risk even the slightest alterations to the design of this war Freya."

That was the first time Albus Dumbledore had ever used her first name.

Something about the sincerity that laced his words struck her deeply. She truly didn't know how to feel.

"This however, is entirely your choice," Dumbledore ended, "I'm merely giving you my piece of advice."

Freya felt the dryness of her mouth as she went to speak, her voice coming out more like a croak than her typically witty charm.

"I understand."