Audacity. | Harry Potter

SEVENTY-TWO

THE NEXT MORNING was spent in utter chaos. Between all the wedding details, guests arriving, and decorating to be done, not a single soul in the house was left with nothing to do.

Freya was exhausted after placing vase after vase of flowers around the property. Her hands were covered in small pricks from the thorns of the white roses Fleur insisted were inside each bouquet.

The next nightmare included getting ready.

It felt as though she was back at Hogwarts sharing a room with Ginny and Hermione. Their space had become an explosion of dresses, heels and anything else they could possibly need.

Rather than fight the two girls for mirror space, Freya took her time getting ready. It worked in her favor as she eventually got the room to herself.

The blonde had her hair curled back out of her face, with two simple clips holding it into place.

Freya looked in the mirror, taking in the details of her face. It wasn't often she had the chance to dress up, and she'd be lying if she tried to say she didn't enjoy it just a little.

Her last step included stepping into the sage green dress she had borrowed from Amity. She slid the delicate straps up across her shoulders, and allowed it to fall to its rightful place just beyond her knees before reaching for the back zipper.

Freya tried for a few moments to get it up without assistance, but grew increasingly irritated at her failure.

As she did so, the light sound of footsteps passed by her door.

"Ginny?" She called loudly, "Hermione? Can one of you come in here?"

The girl waited for a second, still fiddling with her dress.

"Do you need help?"

You would've thought Freya's heart stopped beating right then and there.

Rather than the girls she called for, in her doorframe stood Harry Potter, his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets and his cheeks slightly red.

When he walked in Freya was facing away from him. The low back of her dress was almost poetically unzipped, revealing just the top of her underwear towards the bottom.

"If you would?" Freya choked out her words, practically willing her face to return to a normal shade.

"Of course," Harry walked over behind her, his hands reaching delicately for the zipper.

Feeling him stand behind her made Freya's hair nearly stand on end. It wasn't as though the two hadn't been that close numerous times before, but neither teenager was sure if they had the restraint the moment required.

"Thank you," Freya spoke as he zipped the dress up to its rightful place, and she quickly turned around to face him, as if that would make the situation any better.

Harry looked at the blonde in front of him, his eyes glossing over each part of her body. She truly was breathtaking to him.

"You look beautiful."

Freya blinked faster as she struggled to look at the boy. He looked handsome, despite his ill fitting suit that was clearly borrowed from an older Weasley.

She wanted to say what she was really thinking. That she missed him more than anything, and that she loved him.

Her mind then returned to the quill, and the last words she heard from Albus Dumbledore, now being carried on by Remus Lupin.

Harry wasn't any better off. He knew the consequences he would face if he acted on how he truly felt, and his own plan that was coming soon. He didn't want Freya to even think about joining him on the mission he had been tasked with. Harry Potter had decided quite some time ago that he would rather die a thousand times than see Freya hurt. He was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe, even if that meant the two being apart for the time being.