Freya Clark couldn't understand why her parents had ever gotten together; they were like chalk and cheese. Her mother was a wealthy Muggle businesswomen in her thirties while her father was a Wizard, wild, carefree and still in his early twenties. Yet they did, and they ended up having two children, Freya and Charlie. Her parents hadn't lived together in years, and all friendship had died with their relationship. Ultimately it was their differences that had brought them together and then torn them apart. So it was quite a surprise for both of them to be talking in the hallway of Freya's mother and stepfather's house. Still dressed in her pajamas, Freya watched from the top of the stairs.

'Take care of my baby, Adam,' Helen said. Her brown hair hung to her shoulder blades and she was dressed in a smart work suit. She looked nothing short of a prim business lady on a mission.

'Of course I will,' Adam tried to keep his voice soft.

'I know you do,' she sighed. 'She's just extra fragile now, and I worry.'

'It's totally understandable,' Adam replied soothingly, though there was a hint of something else beneath his calmness. 'I do know what it feels like to lose loved ones. Remember I went through the war, and I lost dear friends and teachers. I lost her too, you know.'

'Yes, I-' Helen struggled for words, her cheeks turning red and her mouth turning into a slit. 'That was quite uncalled for, Adam.'

'I'm sorry,' Adam replied, shamefully. 'I was out of line.'

'Well,' her eyes narrowed as she scowled at the father of her children. She chose to ignore him, knowing her daughter was probably listening in. 'Make sure you drive her back by Sunday afternoon. I don't think she's ready for any of that Magical transportation, so I don't mind driving to pick her up.'

'Monday afternoon?' Adam suggested hopefully. 'And don't worry, I'll get her home safe and sound. And I do know what she's capable of. I have lived in the Magical world most of my life. Please have faith that I can take care of my own daughter, like I've done for the last fifteen years.'

'Adam,' Helen said, her tone an octave higher out of anger or frustration. 'Ok, Monday it is then. If I can take them to the station. I feel that's a good deal.'

'If that's what it takes,' he sighed. 'Now can I go and get my children to take them away for the weekend. Charlie's own godfather is getting married.'

'Of course,' Helen said. 'Freya! Charlie! Your father's here, come downstairs now!'

Freya sighed and trooped down the stairs, her face set in a blank expression.

'Freya,' Adam grinned. 'Us Clarks have always liked our sleep,' he joked when he saw that she was still in her pajamas. 'But seriously Freya, it's five o'clock in the afternoon.'

'So!' Freya gave him a quick hug. Adam simply smiled; it didn't really bother him that his daughter was in her pajamas so late into the day. He just knew it bothered Helen, which amused him.

'Where's Charlie?' Adam asked.

'Outside playing footie,' Freya answered. She looked a lot like her father; both had hazel eyes, and soft light brown hair. Their facial features were also quite similar. Angular and bold while still delicate.

'I should have known,' Adam chuckled. 'Why don't you get dressed while I tear Charlie away? I thought we would go out for dinner tonight and then tomorrow we'll go to Diagon Alley to get school supplies and then wedding will be on Saturday.'

'Sure,' Freya shrugged, already turning around to head upstairs. As she threw a few items of clothing in her bag, she began to panic. She wondered if she could actually do it. Besides her parents, Bob (her stepfather), Charlie, Jack (her sort of boyfriend), Ministry workers and a bunch of nurses and healers, she hadn't seen anyone. She had hardly left the house at all since she had left the hospital. It was one thing getting in a car, but it was another thing going to a wedding where everyone would know her, and know what happened. The trip to Diagon Alley would be good practice, but it wouldn't be enough to quench her fears. The Muggle world had hidden Freya Clark since it happened but as summer came to an end, it was time to face her world .Alone.

'Freya,' her mother yelled from downstairs. 'Your father and Charlie are waiting.'

'Ok,' Freya yelled back. She pulled on leggings and a lame Happy Hippogriff t-shirt and grabbed her bag before heading downstairs. 'Ready?'

'Take care honey,' Helen hugged her daughter tightly. 'Please take care of your body, don't dance too much, have a good time and phone me whenever. I'll keep my phone on loud all day.'

'OK,' Freya huffed. 'Stop worrying about me, I'll be fine.'

'Of course,' Helen watched with sadness as her children got into their father's car and drove off. She had come really close to losing Freya again, and she wasn't going to let go of her easily.

'Whose Roger Davies marrying?' Charlie asked as they left the town where he and Freya lived. Did you go to school with her?'

'Yes,' Adam answered. 'We were in the same year in Ravenclaw together. He helped me a lot because I was a Muggleborn and had to go into hiding. He's marrying Althea Pemberton.' Freya was intrigued, her father didn't talk much about the war, and so it was always a surprise when he did. She realised she probably couldn't begin to imagine the horror he must have seen. 'His wife died a few years back, and Althea's been divorced for a while now. Sometimes people just don't find the one until later on.'

'Phoebe's in the same year as me,' Freya commented absentmindedly. 'Though I don't know much about her.'

'She's cool,' Charlie smiled. 'I mean, I haven't talked to her much either, but Albus knows her because of his brother James, and he said she's very cool.'

'Complete package then?' Adam asked, his face breaking out in a grin.

'Dad!' Freya scolded. 'You're so childish.'

'Yep, she's got the full package,' Charlie grinned back.

'You guys are such nobs,' she turned away to look out the window. The two guys rolled their eyes, and started a conversation about Quidditch. The view outside distracted her from her beating heart, and clammy hands. She had never found cars especially safe or comfortable, but after recent events, they were pretty petrifying. The only thing that relaxed her slightly was the fact her father was driving and despite the poor condition of his car, he was a really good driver. After about an hour of driving they arrived outside the Muggle pub in the town he had moved to after the break-up.

'Come on kiddeos,' Adam called happily. 'Time for some good ol' grub.'

'I'm not a kiddeo,' Freya scowled back. 'I'm a fifteen year old witch.'

'Yeah, you act like one to,' Charlie added. 'Just as grouchy and weird as witches in those lame Muggle books.'

'Very funny, Charles,' Freya replied, managing to keep a straight face. The banter between her and her brother had once stressed their mother out, but over time she realised there was no malice and they were simply messing around.

After eating, an exhausted Freya stayed at home while Adam and Charlie went out for a walk. She headed to her small room, and settled down with a book. It had become a regular occurrence as sleeping had become horrible. She couldn't escape the memories and nightmares she tried so hard to forget. She had found exhaustion was the only thing that made her sleep well, so she stayed up as long as her eyes would stay open. Twelve o'clock came around and the guys returned, both happy over a pint. In fact, Freya saw one o'clock, two o'clock and three o'clock before she finally fell asleep.

x

'Freya, are up you yet?' Charlie entered her small bedroom. 'Dad's making breakfast and then we're hitting Diagon Alley.' He sat on the edge of her bed. 'Wake up!'

'You'd better be gentle with it,' she mumbled, still half asleep. 'I don't approve of hitting alleys.'

'I didn't mean it like that, you noodle head.'

'You can come up with a better nickname than that,' Freya argued. 'Do I have to go to Diagon Alley? I'm so warm and comfortable.'

'You need a new wand,' Charlie said simply. 'You can't go back to Hogwarts with no wand. Dad will need his when you back, you know?'

'I do have one,' she snapped indignantly. 'It's just a little poorly.'

'Freya, it's in three parts, and the spellotape is hardly holding it up. Besides, it also emits black smoke whenever you try and do anything more than like Lumos.'

'Ok, ok,' she buried her head in the duvet. 'I'll look horrible though.'

'No you don't,' he said passionately. 'You just have a bit of an egg head.'

'Charles Leo Roger Clark!' She snapped. 'That was mean.'

'It's cute though,' he peeled back the duvet and rubbed Freya's head. All her hair had been shaved off, and it had started to grow back. But it was really only a thin layer of peach fuzz. An angry scar ran from her temple down towards the nape of her neck. 'Don't you have the wig the nurses gave you?'

'It's too blonde and it's itchy,' she groaned.

'Where is it?'

'Somewhere on my desk.'

'At least try it again,' he tossed the wig at her.

Freya put in and got out of bed to look at herself in the mirror. It wasn't actually too bad, although it was too light compared to her natural hair colour and it was shorter than her hair had been.

'And these,' Charlie handed her a pair of stylish black sunglasses. 'Perfecto!'

'Oh ok,' she submitted to the laws of nature and her evil younger brother. 'I'll wear this, and hopefully I'll blend in. Along with my neck and chest brace, and cast I'll fit right in.'

'Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,' Charlie smirked. 'Did you know that?'

'Idiot,' she muttered under her breath.

'Hey, I heard that,' Charlie smacked her arm. 'Now come on. Dad's attempting to cook Eggy bread. He'll probably need some help.'

'Help,' Freya smiled. 'He'll need a bloody chef, two assistants and a fireman just in case. He's hopeless.'

'Then lets go,' and that was how Charlie successfully dragged his sister out of her bed.

'Nice disguise,' their dad grinned when they entered the small kitchen. 'But I know it's you, Frey.'

'Really,' she put on a German accent. 'I'm Hilda, I have no idea who Frey is. Sorry.'

'You're ridiculous,' Charlie commented. 'That's not even a good German accent.'

'Whatever,' she said. It felt weird smiling; it had been weeks since she had really smiled. After everything that had happened, smiling and being happy just didn't feel right.

Adam managed to successfully make Eggy bread and the three of them sat down in the living room. The flat was so small that there wasn't room for a table in the kitchen. 'Have you guys got smart clothes to wear to the wedding?'

'Nope,' they both shook their heads and smiled.

'Since when do we ever go to anything formal,' Freya said.

'Like every time you're invited to the Ministry Christmas Ball and you never go,' Adam said, a sparkle in his eye. 'Or any time I invite you to hang out with the Davies family or even the Potters. In fact, it was astonishing that I was able to convince you come to the wedding considering your past history of such events.'

'I've just been too busy,' Freya shrugged. It was half true; she was usually busy with Emma or Jack during one of the many events she was invited to. But the other reason was too hard to admit. 'Besides, I've had like zero conversations with any of the Potter children since I was eleven so I can't imagine how awkward it would be for me to just randomly turn up.'

'It wouldn't be awkward,' he sighed, a flicker of pain crossed his face. 'Anyway, I'm glad you're coming to the wedding. I'll buy you a cute dress.'

'God, dad, I hope not,' Charlie grimaced.

'I wasn't talking to you, numpty' Adam grinned. 'But if you want, I will buy you one too.'

'No fucking way,' he lent backwards, an appalled look on his face.

'Whatever floats your boat,' Adam grinned. 'And, language Charlie.'

'Whatever,' he winked.

'You guys are giving me a headache,' Freya moaned, putting her head on the table.

'Are you going to eat more?' Adam looked at her plate, still full of food.

'I'm not really hungry anymore.'

'Well, I hope you will eat a big lunch at The Leaky Cauldron after our shopping,' he was watching her face carefully.

'Honestly dad, I'm fine. Just not very hungry right now,' she said. 'I'm sure I'll be hungrier later.'

'Ok,' he said, still concerned. 'Well, wand, books, potion supplies and clothes.'

'Aye aye,' Charlie saluted him.

They traveled by floo, something that slightly concerned Freya. But according to her father, it would be worse to apparate, so they flooed straight into the Leaky Cauldron. Thankfully her wig stayed on as she tumbled out of the fireplace.

'This is going to be hell,' she moaned as Charlie helped her up.

'It will be fine,' he comforted. 'Come on, no one will recognise you in that funky disguise.'

'What should my new name be?'

'I don't know, Freya,' Charlie answered. 'And I don't really care.'

'Where do you want to go first?' Adam asked.

'Potion ingredients,' Freya blurted before Charlie could say anything. 'Lets go now.'

She did get several weird looks as random people tried to figure her out, especially with her Wizarding robe that she was wearing over her braces and her very Muggle sunglasses. The robe had been their father's idea, a last minute addition to her disguise. The alley was packed as usual, with people of all ages wondering around, talking with friends, buying things and just mooching around. She spotted several students that she recognised from school, but they didn't notice her. Freya hated how she had to buy a new wand, hers had lived a very fulfilling past four years and she was sorry it had to go. Her body felt like concrete, as the three of them finally entered Olivanders. The old man was still working there, but he had a young apprentice and was planning on retiring soon.

'Ahh the Clark family, what may I do for you?' He heard the little bell jiggle and appeared from behind the shelves. 'I must say, I am surprised to see you three here? I do hope nothing has happened to your wands, they are all such fine ones.'

'I'm afraid my daughter's wand was destroyed,' Adam took out the broken wand from his pocket.

'Ahh,' he carefully took it. '10 ¾ inches, laurel and unicorn hair, rigid' he whispered, inspecting it closely. 'Yes, this damage is extensive, although I don't see any evidence of dark magic against it. But I do sense the air of sacrifice. Interesting.'

Freya nodded, at a loss for words.

'I'm sorry to say, it's beyond repair,' he sighed. 'The damage is too great. Let me measure you.' The charmed tape measure flew towards them, and began measuring various parts of her upper body. 'Such a shame, but I'm glad you're alive. You do look like you've gone through the wars.'

'Just a little,' she whispered, ignoring Charlie's pained look.

'Well, well,' Olivander mused thoughtfully. 'Perhaps this one, eleven inches, willow and unicorn hair.'

She waved the wand and nothing happened.

'Not this one,' he quickly took it back. 'I wonder.'

Freya tried several wands, and none of them seemed to make Olivander happy. Charlie had gotten bored and was now sitting on a wooden bench.

'Maybe this one,' Olivander smiled, albeit a bit creepily. 'Eleven and a quarter inches, unicorn hair, cedar and pretty firm. Try it!'

Freya waved it and immediately felt warm in her hand. She found herself smiling, it wasn't her trusty old wand but it would do.

'We got there eventually,' he smiled, his eyes watery and old. 'It certainly is interesting.'

'What is?' Freya asked.

'That unicorn only gave seven strands of hair, creating only four wands, before the unicorn passed away. She was young when she was killed, murdered in fact by a dying Death Eater.'

'But that was so long ago,' she whispered back, her heart palpating with such intensity. The old man was quite hypnotizing.

'Yes, many wands sit around for a long time before they are united with their rightful owner. The first one was sold in late 1999, and the next one in 2003. The other two collected dust until one eleven-year-old boy came to get his first wand almost exactly four years ago. And then here you are, getting a wand from the same unicorn hair.'

'So who is that boy then?' Freya asked, realising that he must be in her own year. It had been four years almost to the day since she had got her first wand.

'Ahh, I cannot share,' he said, smiling dreamily. 'I see the curiosity in your face, but I cannot share such personal details. What I do know is that the Death Eater that killed the unicorn was also the man who killed your uncle, Charles Clark.'

Freya glanced at her father, who had gone very still and pale. His mouth opened and closed and opened again but no noise came out. Charlie gawped at the old man, struggling to believe what he had just heard.

'Wands have a funny way of choosing their owners,' he said simply, as if explaining away everything. 'That would be seven galleons, please.'

'I never knew that,' Adam whispered, getting the coins out of his pocket. 'Charlie was a fighter, right to the end.'

'Yes, yes he was,' Olivander admitted sadly. 'So many young lives taken, such a travesty.'

'Have a good day,' Adam said sharply.

'Thank you,' he smiled at them. 'And Freya, I'm truly sorry about what happened to your wand.'

'Er thanks,' she mumbled.

The three of them quickly walked out, Freya and Charlie bursting with questions. They all knew about their late uncle Charlie, and they had seen pictures of him, but he wasn't much of a presence in their lives. Both stared at their father's pale face, wondering what to say to him.

'Do you know who the Death Eater was?' Charlie asked, breaking the silence. Their father bit his lip thoughtfully.

'I'm not sure exactly, I think I know' Adam sighed. 'I was told after the fact, but I wonder-'

'Then how does Olivander even know,' Freya asked immediately. 'If you don't really know, and he does. That's ridiculous, are we sure we can trust him?'

He nodded. 'Will you two be ok if if I grab a pint at the Leaky Cauldron. I need to-' he couldn't find the words.

'It's fine, dad,' Charlie shrugged his shoulders. 'Don't worry about us. We'll just bug you later'

'Thanks,' Adam smiled, but it didn't even go near his eyes. 'Here's ten galleons each, spend it on ice cream or whatever. And Freya, make sure you find a nice dress.'

'Ok,' she said. 'Are you really ok, dad?'

'I'll be fine,' he gave them a stiff nod. 'Be back in an hour.'

'How weird?' Charlie said after he had left.

'So weird.'

'Come on, let's get some ice cream.'

'Yeah,' Freya rolled her eyes. 'Come on loser.'

They sat outside and ate ice cream in the summer sun. Charlie got a raspebery and rhubarb mint chocolate sundae, while Freya got a vanilla ice cream banana waterfall.

'Are you excited about the wedding?' Charlie asked.

'Hell no,' Freya exclaimed. 'You've got to be kidding. It means I'll have to see everyone. No, it's gonna be horrible.'

They finished their ice creams before the hour was up, and Charlie was beginning to get restless.

'Ok, I can't deal with you anymore,' Freya finally said. 'Go and explore Weasley Wizard Wheezes, you're making me exhausted. Be back in twenty minutes.'

'Thank you, thank you, you're like the best ever,' he grinned.

'I know.' He had disappeared off at an alarming speed, leaving Freya behind. She sat there, zoning out and people watching. The warm sunlight on her face was relaxing and she lent back in the chair, absorbing the vitamin D, when she heard that awfully familiar voice.

'Come on you lazy slobs, catch up.'

The voice belonged to James Potter, the oldest son of the famous war hero Harry Potter. The very same family that her father had brought up that morning. She had had classes with him for the last four years, so she recognised the voice but they hadn't had any conversations besides things like: can I borrow your quill? Or something like that. She sat up a little more and spotted the owner of the loud voice. James Potter and his friends were debating on ice cream or fudge. At school they were known as the Mighty Seven. Or that's what she had heard through the grapevine. Only six were there today, though.

In the end they found a large table, a few tables away from Freya, and sat down. James Potter and Fred Weasley who also happened to be cousins were sitting next to each other, eyeing the menu with big grins. Alistair Wood, Phoebe McClaggen, and Mog Wood were chatting about something and being very loud about it. The Woods were twins, although they didn't really look very similar. The sixth memebr, Noah Bennett was listening to Fred and James, his blonde hair handsomely tussled. The final member, Laurel Doherty wasn't there, and Freya wondered why. A horrible thought crossed her mind, what would happen if Charlie came back and they recognised him? She did not want anyone of them to recognise her. She wasn't at all ready to talk with any of them.

They glanced over at her, and she had a horrible feeling they were checking her out. Then they turned back and laughed. She wanted to know what they were thinking and talking about. After a bit, James and Alistair came over.

'Hello,' James said, a sly grin on his face. 'Good afternoon. I see you're sitting all on your own.'

Several thoughts and ideas flitted through her head before she realised what she had to do. She gave several hands signs, suggesting she didn't have the ability to talk. They looked puzzled, and shared an awkward look.

'Are you ok?' Alistair asked.

She gave more random signs and pretended she couldn't speak. How fucking awkward?

'So you can't speak?' James finally got.

She nodded and gave them more signs, before she got up, and walked away.

'Hey, what happened to you? Alistair yelled after her. She continued walking on. She had no time for them.

She hung around waiting for Charlie to leave the joke shop. She had never thought that she would ever bump into them like that. How had she been so stupid? Now she was even more worried about the wedding. Was she even ready to face everyone?