Audacity. | Harry Potter

SEVENTY-ONE

FREYA HAD BEEN picking at her nails all morning. It was habit she thought she kicked at around 8 years old, but somehow every time she felt stressed it would sneak it's way back in.

The blonde's fingers were red and dry, in truth it was a rather grotesque sight.

"Everything ok?" Amity placed a hand on Freya's shoulder, giving a knowing look down at her fingers, which Freya promptly shoved in her lap.

"Just peachy," She looked up at the older woman, who clearly didn't buy her answer for even a second.

"You just need to get through today," Amity spoke softly.

"And every day after that," Freya brought her gaze back down to her lap.

Amity pitied the girl in front of her. It certainly wasn't easy being in the same house as her ex-boyfriend, let alone on his birthday.

A throat clearing in the doorframe caught the attention of both women as their eyes darted to see whom it belonged to.

"There's a visitor," Remus looked at the two, "You and Sirius better head upstairs," The man looked to Amity this time, who gave a quick nod left the blonde alone on the couch.

"Who is it?" Freya asked, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear.

"You just be Freya Majors," A man arrived behind Remus, looking in at her, "Rufus Scrimgeour, Minster for Magic."

Freya was confused but gave a brief hello to the man before he continued on.

"Alright everyone come have a seat," Suddenly Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared behind him, with looks just as confused as Freya's, "I'll take it from here Lupin."

Remus gave a short nod before ducking out of the room himself. Internally Freya was pleading for him to stay, rather than leave her in the room.

The trio made their way over to the couch, taking the spots beside Freya. Harry had awkwardly shuffled his way in front of Ron to ensure the two didn't have to be seated next to each other, much to Ron's dismay.

"Just wonderful," Ron muttered to himself as he reached the cushion, squished in between the ex-couple.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Harry spoke up after a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"I think we all know the answer to that question Mr. Potter."

Freya was confused, she certainly didn't know why they were gathered there.

Scrimgeour then placed a brown package of sorts in front of the group, laying it gently on the coffee table.

"What is that?" Ron scrunched his face, trying to see what was so imperative about a ratty sack.

Rather than answer, Scrimgeour opened a letter that began to levitate on its own, unfolding into the answer they desired.

"-from The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,"

It surprised Freya that she was in the room for this. What on earth would Dumbledore have left for her?

"To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it..."

"To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive..."

"Freya McKenzie Majors, I leave my most treasured quill, as a physical remembrance of her beautiful gift, ands it's service to our world..."

"To Harry James Potter.... I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill..."

Freya stopped listening as the man continued on, naming another thing that was left to Harry.

A quill? It seemed that even in death, Albus Dumbledore was there to remind her of the duty she held in the upcoming war. It was almost too predictable, the blonde thought and she held the utensil in her hands.

"You cannot fight this war on your own," Freya had finally tuned back into the conversation at hand, "He's too strong."

Without thinking, Freya glanced over at Harry, who had a very clear scowl across his face.

Rufus Scrimgeour then stood to leave, taking his belongings and leaving through the door just as fast as he came.

"I always said he was mental. Brilliant and everything, but cracked. Leaving Harry an old Snitch — what the hell was that about?" Ron spoke after a moment, still fiddling with the deluminator in his grasp.

"Good lord Ronald," Hermione rolled her eyes and stood, "Must you always have something to complain about?"

"Must you always have something to complain about?" Ron repeated in a squeaky tone with his best attempts to imitate her, he then stood and followed Hermione out of the room, relentlessly continuing his teasing.

That left Freya and Harry sitting a lap distance away from each other, which they equally dreaded.

"Uh-" Freya's breath and nerves laced she her words, making them barely audible, "Happy Birthday."

"You didn't tell me your middle name was McKenzie," Harry looked at her.

"Is that supposed to be a thank you?"