CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
PRISON GATES

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CHRISTMAS CAME AND WENT. All too soon, it was time for Freya and the Weasleys to return to Hogwarts. Freya, as much as she was looking forward to seeing Solana, was far from enthused about the imminent tension between herself, the Weasleys and a certain toad-faced woman. As much as she despised the dreary nature of Grimmauld Place, and the suffocating feeling of eyes on her wherever she went (sure, that was a given when you're living with over a dozen people, but that didn't mean Freya had to like it) she hated how Hogwarts was no longer a safe place for kids like her, a refuge during the hard times, the times where nothing, not even magic, could lead you out of the dark.

Hogwarts was a prison now, and Freya McKinnon's final months were a dwindling penance.

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who hates this place," she muttered under her breath as she, Fred and George followed several members of the Order and the other teens through Hogsmeade.

Instead of taking the train back with everyone else, Dumbledore had advised them to take the Knight Bus to the school's neighbouring town. Freya hadn't been pleased at first, especially when her dad was sent out on a mission instead of coming with them, but she didn't have the heart to protest as Fraser, who was sober at last, eagerly disappeared into the early hours of the morning. This was what he was meant to do. It gave him a purpose when everything seemed bleak.

Besides, at least they got to avoid an awkward goodbye at the station before Freya was stuck on an even more awkward train ride.

"You're not the only one," she heard George grumble as the three of them glowered at the peaks of Hogwarts' towers.

"Georgie and I actually have an escape plan," Fred informed her. Despite the distance between themselves and the Order, he lowered his voice to a careful whisper, just in case.

"Let's just say we'll go out with a bang," George added, smirking.

Freya frowned but didn't get the chance to respond before the Hogwarts gates loomed in the distance and an excited squeal was heard from the girl who waited behind them. Freya was quick to recognise the sound, and so was Fred. His eyes brightened almost immediately, a soft smile replacing his smug grin that stayed even when he pushed past Ron, who scoffed and teased his older brother embracing his girlfriend. Fred held Solana like he'd never get the chance to kiss her again, to have her close. Solana was just as eager to return the gesture, her hands cupping his face as she attacked him with a series of concerned questions about his dad.

When Freya and George reached them, she was quick to detach herself from Fred and throw her arms around Freya. "I've missed you," she murmured dramatically into the blonde girl's ear. Freya chuckled in amusement, to which Solana pulled away with narrowed eyes. "I mean it. I've been back for an hour and I already hate it here." She turned to Remus then, face twisting with recognition. "Oh, hey, Professor Lupin. Any chance you're here to take over for toad-face?"

Remus, at first, grimaced at the whole Professor thing, then had to smother a grin at Solana's not-so-subtle nickname for Umbridge. "I'm afraid not, Miss Thomas."

Solana sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."

The time to say their goodbyes to the Order had finally come. Soon enough, Mad-Eye lead the charge back into Hogsmeade, Remus and Tonks struggling to keep up with the man's determined steps. Freya watched them go before turning to the school gates and bracing herself. Solana, who noticed the harsh set of her brows, reached out to squeeze her hand.

"I saw Violet and Erica earlier," she commented. Freya could barely hear her over Fred and George scheming away in front of them, but at the familiar names, her mood only worsened, like one thunder cloud colliding with another. Solana sighed. "I think Violet's finally coming around. I heard her tell Erica that her mum wants to take her out of Hogwarts because of You-Know-Who."

"What?" Freya turned to see Fred frowning, as he and George had just tuned in for the last bit of their conversation. "That's ridiculous. Hogwarts is the safest place she could be right now."

Solana shrugged in a surrendering gesture. "That's just what I heard."

"At least she's coming around," George pointed out, though a dark look had settled over his face too. "While she's at it, she can apologise to you."

It took Freya a second to realise he was referring to her. "Oh, she doesn't have to do that," she waved him off dismissively, though deep down, the fragile part of her that had been hurt so many months ago agreed. She wanted to see Violet and Erica begging for her forgiveness.

George scoffed almost defensively. "Uh, yeah, she does. She had no right to say those things to you--"

"Okay, protective boyfriend," Fred snickered at his brother. "I think we get it."

"Don't call me that," George exclaimed, though the blush on his face betrayed his true emotions.

"You're blushing," Fred teased, prompting his twin to push ahead of them, wanting to avoid the accusation. "Ah, ah, ah! You can't escape from me, Georgie..."

Their voices faded as the twins broke ahead, leaving behind a thoroughly confused Freya and a smirking Solana. The latter looked ready to tease her too, but at the indifferent look that had settled across Freya's face, her smile faded. Slowly, like she was approaching a wounded animal, Solana touched Freya's elbow.

"Hey, uh..." she trailed off then, unsure if she wanted to breach the fragile peace that lingered between them. Eventually, she decided it was for the best. It was already splintering apart anyway. "How did things go with your dad over Christmas? I know he's..." Freya sighed before Solana could get the words out, prompting her to go quiet. She knew what that meant. "What happened, Frey?"

Subconsciously, a name echoed away in Freya's head, like a drum beating against her brain.

Marlene.

Marlene.

Marlene, Marlene, Mar--

It was her dad's voice, full of so much pain that Freya's heart sank again and again, just like it had when he first looked at her and saw right through her. She almost didn't want to tell Solana, to see the look of sympathy that would cross her face. But Solana was like Freya's diary. She knew every dark thought, every doubt, every fear that had ever entered Freya's brain, both the ones that came and went and the others she was yet to let go of. If there was anyone in this world Freya knew she could count on completely, it was the girl holding her arm, just because she knew Freya needed the physical assurance.

"He called me Marlene," she admitted, in a voice so small that Solana almost didn't hear her. But judging by the shocked look that crossed her face, Freya knew she had. "He's never done that before, but this year... I don't know, I guess the pressure of Mr Weasley's injuries and everything else got too much, and as usual, I became someone I can never live up to." Solana hesitated, going to speak but waiting. Freya could feel the words lingering, like she was scared to speak them into existence, but found herself voicing them anyways. "I'm so tired of it, Sol. I feel like I'm always making mistakes."

"Oh, Frey..."

"You don't have to say anything," she was quick to assure the otherwise speechless girl. "In fact, I don't want you to."

So she didn't. They walked the rest of the way in silence, and not once did Solana let go of Freya's arm. Freya appreciated it more than she'd ever realise.

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EXACTLY A WEEK LATER, Dumbledore's Army decided to have the first meeting of 1996. Seven whole days, they had been forced to endure Umbridge's bullshit, just for this moment. Freya knew as soon as Harry entered the Room of Requirement that it would be unlike any of the other lessons. He moved amongst them with a skip in his step, like he'd been waiting for them to reach their full potential. At long last, they had.

"We're beginning patronuses today, everyone," he declared once the room was quiet enough for him to speak. Almost immediately, that silence faded into excited whispers, but unlike the rest of the D.A, Freya remained where the quiet had disappeared to.

What if she couldn't do it?

"Now, you'll have to make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember..."

Harry's voice faded into the background, giving the occasional commentary as the group began to practice for themselves. Hermione was quick to get it, followed surprisingly by Fred and George, but Freya couldn't bring herself to utter the spell. Her mind was racing through every memory that wasn't sad, but the fog refused to clear for her to choose one. Nothing stood out, and it only worsened the feeling of uselessness that had lingered in Freya's heart since her return to Hogwarts.

Turning towards her with an excited grin, George's face dropped once he noticed her own expression. Freya hated it. She wanted him to turn away, to not question her like she knew he would, but instead he asked, "What's wrong?"

And the dam broke.

"I can't think of anything," she admitted, a sharp edge to her voice that she tried in vain to soften when George blinked at her in surprise. "I don't have any happy memories, George. I can't do it."

A few of the younger students heard her and turned to stare, which made Freya lower her head, face burning in shame. George quickly stepped closer, blocking them out and nudging Freya's chin up with his knuckle. She looked up on instinct, heart racing, and sighed when George merely smiled at her softly.

"I feel like we've had this conversation before," he began with a chuckle. "But I'm going to say it anyways, okay? And you better listen to me." He didn't wait for an answer, continuing, "Frey, I know you can do this. Harry did say it doesn't have to be completely happy, it just has to be powerful enough that it evokes emotion."

"What did you think of?" Freya frowned at him.

George's grin widened. "I thought of the joke shop Fred and I are going to open once we graduate. We decided over Christmas that we're going to name it Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," she repeated, feeling something in her swell with pride. "I like it."

"And you saw that it worked," he pointed out, which reminded Freya of the magpie patronus he'd sent flying around her head just a few minutes ago. Surprisingly enough, it suited him, and Fred too, because of course they had matching patronuses. "So think of something powerful and it'll come. And then I can say 'I told you so.'"

Freya sighed but didn't protest when he stepped back and waited. Instead, she allowed her eyes to close for a moment, her surroundings drowning out. The chatter of the D.A around her, George's stare on the side of her face, the weight of her wand in her hand. None of it mattered as Freya thought of Estelle Davies and Marlene McKinnon.

The two blonde women were leaning over a crib, Marlene beaming as she waved a toy at her baby niece, Estelle reaching through the bars to brush Freya's hair back from her face. The older version of her could almost feel the phantom touch ghosting along her skin. Her mind matched laughter she would never know to the memory, a soft murmur as Estelle said something she couldn't make out.

Slowly, Freya raised her wand, opening her eyes. "Expecto patronum!"

It was hard to describe the disappointment that settled in when nothing but wisps of smoke appeared. Freya could've keeled over from the agony of it. Even thinking of the women who shaped so much of her life wasn't enough.

"Keep trying," George insisted then, ignoring Freya's pointed sigh. "You almost had it, Freya. So keep trying."

She closed her eyes again, faint tremors moving up her arms as she kept her wand out in front of her. Estelle and Marlene appeared once more, but this time, they had Fraser with them. He looked the happiest Freya had ever seen him. He'd never smiled so much around her, never looked so at peace. It was a trick of the brain, a desire that Freya knew she clung to foolishly, but it worked.

When she repeated the spell, a hedgehog burst from her wand. It disappeared just as it came, but Freya was frozen in pure shock.

She'd done it.

"See?" George said as he barrelled towards her, almost sweeping her off her feet as he wrapped her up in his arms. "I told you s--"

The floor vibrated as a deep rumble echoed around the room. All at once, everything was quiet, the last of their patronuses flickering out until only darkness remained. George's arms were tense around Freya's body as she stood there, peering up at the chandelier above them as it tremored from the sounds. A sense of dread had settled in her stomach. She had the horrible feeling someone had discovered them.

Suddenly, the mirrors shattered, sending shards of glass scattering around the room. The D.A huddled close together to avoid the blast, wands raised towards the wall that was now visible to everyone. Cracks like spider-webs had appeared along the brick. Any second now, they would see who was on the other side.

When it was finally revealed to be Umbridge, with Filch and her Inquisitorial Squad in tow, they had no chance to flee. One-by-one, they were rounded up and accompanied back to their Common Rooms by the triumphant Slytherins, with the promise of punishment as Umbridge lead Harry off to see Professor Dumbledore. Freya, Solana and the twins had the absolute displeasure of being sent with Draco and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, forced to listen to his jabs until the twins could no longer tolerate it.

"Listen here, you--" Before George could hex him into oblivion, Freya latched onto his wrist, Solana doing the same for a glowering Fred.

Draco let out a laugh, his mocking eyes staring daggers into George. "Have you got yourself a little girlfriend, Weasel?" he crooned, showing his disgust in the way he looked at Freya. "Of course it's Blood-Traitor McKinnon..."

"Careful, Malfoy," Freya warned the younger boy, stubbornly clutching George's wrist when he tried to turn his wand on him again. The last thing they needed was Draco crying to Umbridge and making George's punishment worse. "Or I'll let him turn you into a ferret. I remember how much you loved it when Moody did that to you."

Draco's face remained stern, but Freya noticed the way his jaw loosened, uncertain of whether or not she meant it. "You don't know how to do that," he scoffed, but Freya merely smiled.

"What do you think Harry's been teaching us?" she beamed. She was bullshitting, but he didn't need to know that. "Go on, Malfoy. Say another thing about my blood status and I'll let him go so you can learn the hard way." When Draco said nothing, she nodded to herself. "Yeah, that's what I thought. We'll be going now."

"Umbridge wants us to escort you to your Common Rooms," the blonde-boy said before the four of them could disappear up the stairs. "She said--"

Freya didn't have to say anything in response. All it took was her letting George's wrist go and the redheaded boy grinning sadistically for Draco and his goons to turn tail and run. It would've been amusing had they not been so worried about Harry.

"What do you think's going to happen now?" Fred asked as they climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower.

"I heard Umbridge mention Fudge," Solana said, a shadow of fear appearing on her face. "I think they're going to run Dumbledore out of Hogwarts."

"Can they do that?" Fred frowned at her, though everyone knew it wasn't impossible. "Surely, he'd stop them... I mean, it's Dumbledore. Out of every witch and wizard in existence, You-Know-Who fears him the most. Fudge and Umbridge should be nothing... right?"

If only Fred knew how wrong he was.

For the next day, Dumbledore was long gone, and Umbridge was the new Headmistress under Cornelius Fudge's command...

Well, shit.

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Hedgehog Patronus: Cute and loveable inside and out, those who possess a hedgehog Patronus may thrive on giving and receiving love and may feel they need more of it than others realize. While upfront about their endearment and affectionate personality, hedgehogs are also known to be anxious and overly cautious. They often worry about their own and others of their kind's safety. Those around must approach the hedgehog with care and precision, though, because when defensive and hurt, hedgehogs are remembered not for their sweetness, but for their sharp spikes.

The definition of Freya's patronus. Y'all see it too, right?