Severus Snape never planned to be a terrorist, and it was something that sort of happened, and to be fair, he was given a hell of a sales pitch.
As he inhaled, he felt the old fabric of his white shirt shift over his ribcage. Letting the air rest in his body, he knew it was his turn to speak, and he could not formulate his thoughts. His back rested against the wall of his dorm, but his head was tilted towards the floor. "Are you... sure?"
With a dark book in her hands, Freya swallowed. "There's not much a spell can do in the hypothetical."
"Regulus will be mad."
"Good thing he does not know."
"Magic's temperamental."
"I trust you."
"I'm bad with healing spells."
"Sev." She said his name in a way that meant "look me in the eyes," and Sev obeyed. His attention shifted over her, and she straightened her back.
Freya would make a great Deatheater. If Evan Rosier properly spoke to her, he'd see Sev's vision. But Rosier's eyes were often clouded by blood, the purity aspect of it, but Sev could see. She wasn't like the others; she was like him. Her thin frame was not for fashion. She was born hungry. Clever as she was, Sev knew better than to trust the nice clothes and pretty face, and he remembered her before Narcissa took her under her wing. She was in his classes with clothes that fit just as bad as he did, and she snuck rations before breaks.
Like him, she turned that struggle into ambition. Their blood ran green and silver. And Sev was going to give her the gift of all gifts, a key to high society so powerful that neither of them would ever be wondering where their next meal was from. Once the spell was finished, they'd show the Dark Lord and be rewarded greatly. Fame, glory, all of it.
A new world was being built, and they would be the kings and queens at the table instead of the servants.
After a moment, Sev's vision became one of Freya's twisted body writhing on the floor. Holding back a flinch, he pulled away from her eyes, then chewed on his thumb. "We're waiting." He said firmly, trying to will away the memory of fourth year burning in his brain. "It's my spell."
"Sev--"
"We're waiting." He repeated, slightly harsher this time.
It won't be like last time.
Part of her wanted to argue about it, but she could tell by the way he avoided her gaze that he remembered an older experiment, the one that made Reg very against their experiments. It was hard to think of without a shudder, but she managed it. After all, that was ages ago, and they were barely getting into the dark arts at the time, and Freya never regretted it. If anything, it was a bonding experience. Still, she knew his conscious was heavier than hers, so she respectfully lowered her head. "As you wish."
***
Since Freya Grey could not sneak out until Argus Filch got the stick out of his arse, she had a lot more time on her hands catching up with work and spending time with her fellow snakes. Regulus Black enjoyed this immensely, not that anyone could tell with his head in a sketchbook, but he was thrilled. On the other hand, his friend seemed to be going through withdrawal. She finished all her essays, homework, and transcriptions on the third day. Merlin, she even was willing to let Sev experiment on her to do something.
It was awful.
She considered taking up yoga, but she had already attempted that third year and spent about thirty minutes setting up the perfect area, only for her to almost snap her neck trying out the more advanced moves since the original ones bored her.
Perhaps, she could get around Filch; he never stood directly in front of the Slytherin entrance. He hovered at the corridor in front of it after McGonagall told him off from sleeping at the doorway. Stunning and poisons would make it clear that it was Slytherin, therefore, giving Filch an excuse to be there longer, but perhaps if the stun--
"No." Regulus blended the nose of his charcoal mermaid.
Freya's attention turned back to her environment and straight to Regs. "What?"
He extended his arm and inspected his drawing at a distance, then decided her forehead was slightly too light. "You can't sneak out."
Curling closer to herself, Freya knew she hadn't been speaking to herself and glared at Regs. "It's creepy when you do that."
"It's creepy when you poison me. Call us even." Content with his analysis of the mermaid and Freya, he put the sketchbook back on his lap. She started at him with a face that said "Really?" and he smiled at her sweetly. With an eye roll, she shook her head at him, but Regs knew the corners of her mouth were upturned. "Staying in the common room another night won't kill you."
Running a hand through her hair, Freya honestly questioned his statement. "What's Sev doing?"
"He's hanging out with his other friends."
"Sounds dull."
At that, Regs held back a laugh but quickly rid himself of his joyful once Barty Crouch Jr. stepped down from the staircase. Both of their heads snapped in his direction, and his eyes widened at the eerie mirroring. "Am I interrupting?"
"No," Freya answered.
"Yes," Regs breathed quietly, and Freya glanced at him as Barty sat on the couch's armrest across from them.
Arms crossed, he still looked well put together in his deep purple pajamas and slippers. His hair was slightly damp, and they could inhale the freshness of his shower, even from where they sat. With a smile, he looked at Freya. "How's your DA essay going?"
"I finished it."
His head tilted at her words. "It was seven pages."
"Six and a half." She corrected.
"She assigned it today."
"She has the standards of a five-year-old, and the topic was not anything new." Though her tone was entirely factual, Barty chuckled at her statement, which made Regs stare at him over his drawing. Laughing at Freya being mean was Reg's job.
"Well, you're not wrong," Barty said, then glanced around the barren common room. "Place is still crowded, huh?"
"It's a quarter to eleven. We have classes tomorrow." Regs there was a certain clipped-ness to his tone that had Freya shooting him another look, and Barty's grin widened slightly more. Pissing off the Black Heir was probably a very poor idea, but in Barty's mind, that proved he saw him as a threat to Freya's attention.
"Fair point, Black." He mused. "Perhaps, it is my turn to join them." With a yawn, Barty stretched his arms over his head, causing his shirt to lift up just enough to show his pale lower torso. Regs wanted to deck him out and knew Freya would not fall for such a foolish show of skin. However, when he turned to her, her gaze had briefly flicked off Barty's face and then back. "Hope you both have a good night." Barty smiled, then just before he went up the stairs, he turned back. "Your hair looks stunning, by the way, Freya. I like the way you parted it."
As she thanked him, Regs wanted to let out the biggest sigh. Once Barty finally left, Freya's head snapped to him, and Regs pretended to be sketching. She gave him some time to not play stupid, then she said. "Go to bed."
He looked up from his work. "I have ten more minutes."
***
Three boys sat on James Potter's bed with the curtains drawn close together, looking at the map before them. It was the makeshift meeting headquarters for any Remus-hidden planning. As he leaned on his elbow, James squinted at Sirius Black. "So, you want to break her out without doing anything to Filch?"
The long-haired boy nodded. "Harming Filch makes the Slytherins look bad."
"I think the Deatheaters make Slytherins look bad." James snorted.
Holding his knees close to his chest, Peter looked at Sirius. "Didn't she say we could just wait it out a couple of days?"
Expectingly, James looked at Sirius, and Sirius's mouth opened. "But that's not the point."
"What is the point, exactly?" James questioned.
"That Freya... needs to take care of her... herbs." Even Peter's eyebrows lifted at how Sirius's desperation far exceeded the point. Looking at both of them, Sirius knew he needed something more. "She has a schedule."
"A schedule?" The question came out of James's mouth slowly, hoping the stupidity of it was obvious.
However, his tone was lost on Sirius, who confidently repeated himself. "A schedule." Shaking his head, Sirius looked at both of them. "Her not being there puts us days behind."
Tilting his head, James hoped the Great Sirius Black could come up with something more substantial. "Padfoot."
Sirius, clearly not keen on being questioned, was holding back the urge to snap at James. "Can I borrow the cloak or not?" For a second, James stared at Sirius, and Peter looked between them. With a sigh, James pulled the cloak out from under his pillow and handed it to Sirius. Relieved, Sirius took it quickly and kissed both of them on the forehead before heading out.
"A schedule," James repeated to Peter with an exhausted expression. "Man's never cared about a schedule a day in his life."
***
Once Regs had gone to bed, Freya wrote in her notebook, trying to spin off different tangents since her restlessness would not let her go to bed. Her tea was cold which made her think of her mother because of how often her mother had cussed out British tea. Then that thought led to another, and her journal was less peaceful and more a tirade of different things that pissed Freya off and a couple plans that involved Albus Dumbledore falling suspiciously(but violently) ill.
But she lost all her wits as a voice came from behind her. "So, this is the Slytherin Common Room." Freya whipped around and saw Sirius Black standing near the center of the room, looking around at the high ceilings and plush luxury. "Less creepy than I thought it'd be."
Eyes wide, Freya was about to pass out from shock. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?"
"I'm breaking you out." He shrugged.
"It seems like you're trying to get us both in trouble." She whisper-shouted at him. Although, having foreigners in the common room was not exactly a high level crime since it happened nearly every celebration, but having a foreigner in the Slytherin common room near midnight with Filch lurking about with an already accused-terrorist-vandalizer-hoodlum seemed like they were begging to be sentenced to detention for life.
"Oh, sweet Freya, we only get in trouble if we get caught." He winked and held up a blanket. A blanket.
Freya stared at the blanket and then back at him. "If you're going to pretend to be one of the ghosts, at least choose a white sheet." Smirking, Sirius put the blanket around his shoulders and then watched the shift in Freya's expression. "Is that--"
"Yes."
Her hands reached for the fabric, completely enamored. "Where did you--"
"James let me borrow it," Sirius answered, opening up the Invisibility Cloak for Freya to come in. "Now, will you?"
Hesitantly, she looked at him, then stepped under the cloak with him.
***
Freya's curiosity was something Sirius found interesting. There were times when it was quiet, but other times it filled her so much she could not help but show it. Wonder shined in her eyes as she absorbed the feeling of the cloth in her hand, and she played with the light that shined through it as Sirius kept his wand out to light the hallway. His focus shifted from the path in front of them to her face as she bunched the cloth in front of her. Slight amusement played off his features. "If you keep lifting it up, it sort of ruins the purpose of an invisibility cloak."
"I've only read about them." She said quietly and dropped the cloth, but her eyes kept studying it.
Light peaked around the corner of them, and Sirius quickly turned the light from his wand off and pushed Freya close to the wall. His hand was pressed against her lower ribs as her back was against the wall, and his head leaned down to ensure his height wasn't pulling the cloak higher than needed. Two voices became louder in the hallway, and Freya saw the light get closer to them and waited for them to notice them. Her hand rested over Sirius's on her waist, and she readied herself.
A familiar Highland Scottish accent echoed through the stone corridor. "There are other places in the castle that needs watching, Argus. You can't sleep there." She reprimanded the school's caretaker as they walked passed the duo. "I know Dumbledore asked you to keep an eye out, but your eyes need to be open to do that."
Once her voice faded down the hallway entirely, Sirius strained his ears to ensure they were far enough. All Freya could hear, however, was the soft breaths of Sirius as he leaned over her. "I think they're gone."
"Yes." She agreed quickly, but neither moved for a second as Sirius became aware she had been holding the hand over her waist for comfort. But Freya snapped out of it sooner than him and pushed away from the wall.
Their journey continued out of the castle and onto the forest grounds. Something slightly more challenging since they were both trying to avoid getting tangled in branches, roots, and cloak without touching each other. As Freya's foot slid over a stump, she struggled to keep from falling all over Sirius, and he intervened in her long attempt to balance herself by grabbing her forearm. She steadied herself, then pulled away from him to keep a distance gap between them. He raised a brow at that. "I don't bite, not unless you ask."
"How do you all fit under here?" She grumbled, knowing all three of his friends were much taller than her.
"We're not scared of basic intimacy."
"I'm not scared." Freya defended, almost falling over the cloak again. "Basic intimacy is a handshake, not having your wand pressed against me."
Part of him wanted to comment on how dirty that sounded but decided against it as his arms hovered around her, respecting her space yet keeping them there in case she fell. "I'm trying to give you as much room as I can." She stumbled again. "Careful." Then he said. "It's easier if we work together."
"That is the most Gryffindor thing I've ever heard you say."
"That is the most Slytherin thing I've heard you say."
"And how would you like me to walk? On your shoes?"
"Can I show you?" He asked with equal sarcasm, and she gave her permission with an eye roll. Sirius positioned himself beside her, then hovered his arm around her. "Is this okay?" She nodded, then he grabbed her fully, and Freya held her breath. "You can walk now, slowly."
As told, Freya moved slowly with his hand firm on one of her hips and his body pressed against her other side as his other hand led the way with light.
They made it to the lab without face-planting.
Once the lab markers were in sight, he removed the cloak as they pulled through the barrier revealing the lab. It was beautiful, and a sigh of relief washed through Freya's body. She turned to Sirius next to her as he folded the cloak.
Something in the air felt different and she was not sure how to describe it, yet the only thing that felt right to say was, "Thank you."
He looked at her, she was red-cheeked, and her hair was a mess. Freya Grey looked very alive in the moonlight.
Shrugging, he dismissed the soft emotions in his belly and said, "You're our lead potion's master."
"Of course." Freya could not believe she'd forgotten.