FREYA AND HARRY'S hands remained intertwined for the rest of that evening. Neither had many words to say but the mere presence of the other was enough to provide comfort.
The couple ended up in the hospital wing along with the Weasley family, who were tending to their oldest, Bill. He has brutally attacked by Greyback, leaving his once handsome face chiseled into like a piece of meat. His long red hair was matter with blood, a much darker hue than his defining locks. It pained Freya to see the man in his condition, along with Molly Weasley who was in a near frantic state.
Meanwhile Fleur Delacour gently tended to Bill, a calm look in her eyes as she remained gazing down at him. Her demeanor brought peace to the room, and Freya admired her greatly.
"Would you still love me if I had those nasty scars?" Harry asked quietly, careful of his volume in the filled room.
"Harry," Freya turned to him, looking into his emerald eyes, the boy was fully expecting something sweet and full of sentiment, "You've already got one right here!" She swept his mop of black hair to the side to reveal his infamous scar.
"Oh," Harry stifled a laugh, reading the room around him, but he couldn't help it, Freya just made him smile, "So yes?"
"Yes idiot." Freya let herself crack a smile, but it was short lived. Moments of genuine happiness would be increasingly hard to come by.
"Good," He placed a soft kiss on her cheek as she turned back to the rest of the room.
Harry wished so desperately he could wisk her away from all of the mess. They could run away and just be together, no strings attached. He wanted a life with her, but he feared his would end long before hers.
"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall had arrived behind the couple, "May I speak with you?"
Harry looked to Freya, asking merely with his glance if she would be okay by herself for a bit. The blonde gave a quick nod, and nudged him into motion with the Professor.
With Harry's exit, Ron made his way over to Freya.
"How are you?" The boy asked, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"I should be asking you that," Freya responded, "Your brother is laying in a hospital bed."
Ron looked back at Bill, and then his gaze returned to Freya, "Bill is a fighter, he'll be just fine."
"And you're worried about me?"
"Worried isn't the right word," Ron sighed, "I just care about you Freya."
"Do you now?" Freya attempted at lightening the mood, mostly because of her inability to process and respond to affection. She had only just gotten used to receiving it from Harry.
"Yes stupid," Ron, his height towered over to girl as he pulled her into a burly hug, "At this point you might as well be family along with Harry and Hermione."
"Well I'm flattered," Freya spoke into his chest, her face being nearly taken over by his body mass, "I guess I care about you too."
"Woah there," Harry approached the two after moment away with McGonagall, "Get your own Freya, Ronald."
"I'm pretty sure I've got this one right here Harold," Ron retorted, placing his elbow on Freya's head in an indirect claim.
"Did you just call him-"
"Harold?" Freya and Harry spoke in unison, confused looking now painted across their faces.
"Sounded better in my head." Ron shrugged, "Here take your little blonde." The tall boy gave a gentle shove of Freya into Harry, "Just remember we were friends first."
»»-------------¤-------------««
The following days at Hogwarts were some of the oddest Freya Majors had ever experienced. Not many times in her life had she ever seen so many people affected by grief. Not a single student or staff was left unaffected by their monumental loss.
Freya herself was well versed in grief, so most of her time was spent making sure those she cared for were alright.
Harry was stressed, Freya could tell with a single glance, but he remained close to her. He had yet to leave her side, most of his day was spent leaning his head on her should, and the first night after everything happened Freya slept with Harry on the common room couch, he wanted her in his sight always. His affection towards her was tender and extremely genuine, Freya provided a sense of security to him he never knew he needed.
Hermione and Ron had become noticeably closer during this time as well. The night they all spent the night on the couch, the two woke up slightly intertwined, neither minding or realizing until that morning.
Freya had also been spending a considerable amount of time with Neville Longbottom, who was lost with the death of Dumbledore. He felt exposed to the dangers of the world now that the man was gone.
The funeral was one of the most crowded places Freya had ever been. The Hogwarts ground were packed to the brim with members of the Wizarding World. There was not a single doubt in anyone's mind the importance of the man they had lost.
Harry and Freya sat with Amity and Sirius, the group became somewhat of a family unit in less words. Amity leaned her head on Sirius's shoulder while he stroked her hand with his thumb. Freya admired their absolute devotion to each other, she had never seen two people so deeply bonded. With her own family being of an entirely different world, being brought in with them made her feel safe.
Sometimes Freya caught herself thinking of what a future would be like, being with Harry. Every time her mind slipped however she was painfully reminded of the words the man lying in the white tomb had spoken to her.
"We cannot risk even the slightest alterations to the design of this war Freya."