Caught in the Crowd {James Potter}

Untitled Part 6

Chapter 6: Grievances and Warmth

It was owl day. At lunchtime, the Great Hall filled with the squawks of owls flying overhead. They circled the students, finding the familiar faces of their owners, dropping packages and letters next to their food. Freya wasn't expecting anything, since she hadn't written to her father yet, but when a familiar milky-coloured owl flew near her, it dropped a letter with her name scrawled across the envelope.

It shouldn't have been a bad omen, since her father did write to her unexpectedly some days, but today it just felt wrong. Freya ignored Mary's debate with Lily and slid her finger under the wax seal, breaking it in half.

Her eyes couldn't settle on the inky words, undecided if she wanted to skim the entire thing or read each word carefully. Deciding that she would eventually do the latter either way, she let the world fall silent around her and read from the top of the letter.

Her stomach dropped with each line, a python tightening around her windpipe. By the end of it, her eyes were welling with water. Freya furled her fingers, intending to crumple the letter from her father, but decided against it and folded it back into the envelope. She hid her mouth into her fist and searched down the Gryffindor table.

Eugene sat amongst his friends, an eager grin planted on his youthful face. His hands flung around him, just as deaf to the world outside of his friends as she was outside of herself. Freya took careful breaths, counting in her head to calm herself so she didn't burst in front of everybody.

Some part of her racked with envy. Why couldn't she have been the youngest—the one who got away with everything and had nothing to worry about except if their older sibling saw? Why didn't her father listen? Why did her mother have to die and leave her?

"Freya?" Dorcas called her name gently, her brown eyes wide and searching. Freya looked back at her, still hiding in her fist. "Everything alright?"

Marlene drifted from the conversation that she was in with a boy on her left. "Somebody has used Polyjuice to look like our friend. Freya is never sad."

Dorcas looked at Marlene with a stolid expression. "Are you alright, Frey?" She glanced down to the discarded letter. "Is something going on?"

Freya shook her head, willing her voice to work. "Fine," she answered. Marlene smiled and turned back away to the boy, but Dorcas wasn't convinced so easily.

By the fortune of whatever gods Sirius blabbered on about, Freya was saved from answering any more questions when a large hand clasped at her shoulder. A black head of messy curls appeared over her other. "Hawkins," James greeted. "Just got word that Divination has changed rooms today. Apparently working with fire omens in a room filled with draperies is cause for a safety hazard."

Freya twisted in her seat. "Wait? Where are we going then?"

James stood back up, walking backwards as the rest of his group headed towards the entrance to the hall. "Uh, that eastern corridor on the third floor. Next to the classroom that all the teachers store stuff in." She barely heard the tail end of his words, his walk speeding into a jog to catch up with the others.

Freya stared after him. She had no idea what corridor he was talking about, let alone which room. Anxiety formed in a pit at the bottom of her stomach. They had Divination next, and clearly, he had somewhere to be before then and she couldn't ask him to walk with her. "Do you know where he means?" she asked Dorcas who only shook her head.

She hated it. She hated not being sure of where she was going.

Her teeth pulled at the skin of her inner cheek, chewing obstinately. The twangs of pain were the perfect distractions. Freya couldn't eat any more of her lunch, letting the remaining parts of her sandwich sit until the scraps were magicked away. She would follow someone else from the class. Lincoln. She would follow Lincoln.