Happy Friday! Well, depending on where you are I guess. It's early morning Friday here in Washington state (because you know, I'm always up way too late finishing these chapters). Thank you my lovely unnamed guest for helping me with the mistakes! I always appreciate your reviews! Lol, I had like three hours to type the chapter and I didn't go over it very well, so that's probably why there were so many. I don't mind it at all! The last chapter was around the same length as most of the chapters have been, but recently my chapters have just been longer. ;) Something I wanted to address really quick was a comment about Ophelia having sex with Edric. You're right, it would have been the better decision to say no, and sure I could have represented that type of character, but I feel like that character is represented a lot in these types of stories. The moment was not meant to be romantic, and also showed how Ophelia's own insecurities led her to a mirroring mistake of her mother's that she had been made wary of, but her desire to be wanted by someone who was not meant to want her got the better of her. Foolishly, yes, but I'm purposely having my characters make these mistakes. I'm also not making Ophelia/Edric into the obvious, romantic "oh he just loved her so much he left his horrible world for her". Obviously, Ophelia and Edric didn't receive this happy "yay you've escaped the evil society you grew up in and now everything is perfect!" Edric would not have allowed sweet kisses and lovely murmurings to happen here and there before stopping himself. It's good he jumped straight into it in a moment of weakness. I'm glad you got the point of it not being romantic. However, when you said "they all just take what happens to them and let it manipulate them. None seem to rise above or even ask/expect to be treated better". I'm intentionally trying to portray the strengths of characters that would conventionally be seen as weak. Everyone can see that a woman who puts her foot down and shouts "no" to the sun is a strong woman, but I'm trying to show other types of strengths. Sure, some of these girls can sit there and scream, shout, and say "no" (I'm talking about the pure-blood women, not Ophelia), but where would that get them? I'm sorry if I seem offended (I promise I'm not and I appreciate your thoughts very much!) or if I'm overexplaining my story, but I hope my writing is portraying some of the points I'm trying to make. "These poor women" also mirrors how women like Hermione in the story see the pure-bloods in this pitying way as if the women themselves don't realize their position. Hopefully I can bring these characters further than "poor girls. Too weak mentally to get themselves out of their situation" (Freya is personally offended at such an idea). Thank you for your thoughts! (: Please, all of you, continue to tell me what you think! Sorry for the long author's note, but you know me!
I don't own anything from Harry Potter.
Complete fucking rubbish.
That's what this was, these little "psychological observations" the Aurors were subjecting them to. Again, treating them as if they were animals as they loved to do.
"It is stated in your notes that you are rather cold towards people outside of those with a similar mindset to you, but to those you are close with you are a much different person. Why do you think that is?"
Was that a real question?
"Hmm. I'm not sure. It could be that I don't like you and your people," Theodore responded flatly, his eyes narrowing slightly at the redheaded woman in front of him.
A mudblood, he guessed. At the very most a half-blood.
"I understand that, but still such a drastic change in personality is not regular behavior, even towards people you feel a dislike towards," she answered calmly, her patronizing voice cutting through his nerves like a knife.
"It's more than just dislike."
The woman moved her eyes up to watch him closely for a moment, studying him with a thoughtful gaze and he looked back at her light colored eyes with a flat expression.
"Your father has a similar record of acting in such a way. The professors at Hogwarts have expressed surprise at his decision to follow Voldemort."
"Is there a reason to state your observations out loud to me as if they matter to me in any sort of way?"
"Where does the hiccup in your humanity come from? What happens to your morality when faced with muggle-borns and half-bloods that your complete and entire demeanor changes just at the simple knowledge of their lineage?"
"I told you," Theodore said slowly, leaning forward as he stared her down as if she were slow. "I don't like you. You disgust me. You have stollen the birth right of magic that was never yours. You're less than people."
"There we are. Less than people," she repeated, nodding. "You see those who are not pure-blood as inhuman, which is why there is this shutdown."
"Again, why do you feel it necessary to repeat your useless thoughts back to me?"
"Theodore, you are aware that the Aurors and myself are looking for signs that point in the direction of having relation to the current Death Eater rising, yes?"
"Yes," he answered irritably. Was she planning on saying anything that either of them didn't already know?
"Then why are you not making an effort to sound less prejudiced and threatening?"
"Am I not meant to tell the truth?" He asked dully. "You'd think if I was a part of them then I would be making an effort to hide it, no?"
"Hmm," the woman agreed, nodding. "Very good then. The more honest you are, the easier it for the both of us. So, is this what made you enjoy murdering the people Voldemort ordered you to murder? Or perhaps more than he ordered?"
Theodore considered this, feeling an odd discomfort fall over him. "I didn't enjoy it. I'm not a psychopath," he told her, grimacing. "I just did what I was meant to do. If I hadn't, I would have been killed."
"So it upset you? Was it hard for you?"
"No, I just.." Theodore looking up as he thought of how to explain himself. "I just shut my senses down and did it. Detached myself from what I was doing. A mundane chore."
The woman hummed oddly in what sounded to be almost approval. "The same way you detach yourself in terms of social skills when it comes to public encounters?"
"Mmm."
"But you didn't fancy murder?"
Theodore rolled his eyes. "No I didn't fancy murder. I don't particular enjoy the sounds of screams or enjoy seeing blood and torture."
"That's good. Why did your family follow Voldemort then?"
"Why did your side follow the people it did? Did you fancy risking your life for Harry Potter? Did you have some emotional attachment to him? No, you thought his perspective was correct and you thought he would win. He won. We thought the Dark Lord would win. He didn't. However, we believed him to be the future, and why would we want to be on the losing side of his future?"
The woman nodded again, the same thoughtful expression on her face.
Condescending bitch.
"Do you regret it?"
Theodore threw her a sneering look, his eyes dull. "Do I regret following a man who failed and made all of his followers to look like idiots?"
"Yes."
"Yes, of course we regret it. What's the next brilliant question?"
"Do you regret not being on the winning side?"
Theodore snorted loudly. "Absolutely not. Plenty of pure-blood families followed neither and are perfectly fine."
"Are they? Seems they are under target," she answered evenly.
"The answer is no. I'm not sitting around all day crying about how shitty of a person I am and how I should have kissed Harry Potter's feet before dying for some mudbloods."
The woman nodded once more and Theodore let his head fall back as he stared at the ceiling in irritation.
"You know, it's not wise for your little Auror friends to be allowing you alone with me, a man who has killed your kind."
"What do you believe I am?"
"No more than a half-blood, but I'm getting mudblood."
The woman was silent and Theodore raised his head to find her smirking down at her notes.
"What?"
"I don't know whether to be amused or offended," she replied, a soft laugh leaving her lips before she looked up to meet his gaze. "And what makes you assume that I'm a muggle-born?"
"Why would you not be one? Asking such nonsense," he muttered, further assessing the girl now that she was making him second guess his assumptions.
Perhaps she was much more well kept and better postured than most of the mudblood girls he had experienced. She certainly appeared to look more like a witch than them. He searched her simple robes, a bland uniform that went with her job, giving him nothing to go off of.
"Eld," she provided him, nodding slightly.
Theodore blinked slowly. "Eld," he repeated. "And what exactly are you doing here, working as some worthless Auror's assistant?"
"I'm not an Auror's assistant, Theodore," she replied evenly. "And I believe I am the one interviewing you."
Theodore eyed the woman again, his shoulders relaxing and the distaste in his mouth dissolving as he felt much more comfortable with those he understood, those he was familiar with. "So you're a blood traitor?"
"Blood traitor. I've heard it defined many ways. How would you define it?" She asked him thoughtfully, prepping her notes for his answer.
"If you're going to be this obnoxious I'm going to stop answering your questions properly," he said flatly, though his voice had lost its previous disgusted edge.
The Eld family was an old one, though not near his closer circle of pure-bloods, but known all the same. The family was much better known in Sweden, rather than there, which would explain the ever so slight accent to her voice.
"I'm not sure what you mean. I'm only asking you basic questions. Would you prefer personal?" She asked him quizzically.
"Hmm. Would you prefer something more personal, love?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow at her as his lips twitched at a smirk.
She smiled knowingly in return and looked down as she wrote, looking pleased. "My name is Novalie. Feel free to use it if you feel so inclined."
"So, how do your parents feel about your career choice and the fact you're likely fucking muggles and mudbloods, Novalie?" He asked, noticing her face change slightly.
Ah, good to see she wasn't just a patronizing, fake creature.
"My parents are both dead. My grandparents raised me. They don't know what I do, and I don't plan on them knowing if I can help it. They simply believe I'm traveling, which I am. I don't sleep around with muggles or muggle-borns since you are so concerned, as I fully intend on returning to my life to not upset my grandparents," she told him calmly.
"So you're only dabbling in being a blood traitor, and you feel it's wise to inform me of this?" He asked her, sitting back in his chair.
Novalie blinked, giving him a puzzled look. "Well, we can trust each other, can't we? I've shown you my trust, so now you I hope you feel much more comfortable."
"I'm not uncomfortable. I'm aggravated. Dealing with a condescending, rebellious pure-blood girl is hardly how I want to spend my time. Why bother with this at all? What's the appeal?"
"You were uncomfortable," she corrected him. "Until you found that I was not a muggle-born, and yet one of your own. Which is an expected reaction, but the change in your eyes was quite drastic."
"Hmm. It's a wonder why one would feel more comfortable with those they're familiar than those they despite, isn't it?" He asked dryly.
"I've just always been interested. Especially in the pure-blood community, from circle to circle. I hope to get my fill before I settle down properly," she told him, tilting her head slightly. "Speaking of that and blood traitors. The Aurors feel I might relate too much as well as sympathize to the point I may not properly report real threats, so they are seeking to gain a second opinion from a muggle-born. They are having a hard time with that one. Not a lot of muggle-born psychologists wish to be around former Death Eaters. I can't imagine why, can you?"
Theodore shook his head. "They must not mind putting their employees at risk."
"No, they are not as concerned as they should be. I suppose they feel that since they defeated the Death Eaters in the first place that they are less threatening than they actually are. However, they didn't factor in all of the families who weren't Death Eaters, but simply don't appreciate being poked and prodded at."
"They are notorious for being overconfident. No attraction for any of those..? Well, I don't know if I'd call them men, but you seem aching to escape your traditions."
"Not at all actually," she replied, considering his words. "I.. Don't agree with everything we as a whole stand for, but at the end of the day it is me. It is my upbringing, and pure-blood men are the men I know and am comfortable with. Well, the ones closer to my family's type. Definitely not some of the more questionable such as some of the pure-bloods here. Trust me, I've seen questionable in my time of curiosity. It is quite difficult to mix such different backgrounds. Yes, you can love someone, but it goes beyond that. It comes down to how you act in public, friendships, how arguments are handled, how the children will be raised. It works for some, but I don't see it working for me. I have met some decent men outside of our world, but none that I would pursue. It's just not worth everything that is lost."
Theodore listened, slightly surprised she had answered him properly. He much preferred being spoken to as an equal, rather than a subject.
Well, that's most likely why she was speaking to him as an equal now, wasn't it?
"I suppose I understand, though I can assure you I have never had eyes for any mudbloods. However, now that I know you aren't one and I'm getting a better look at you.." He said suggestively, noting the bluish green color of her eyes.
The wrong color of blue.
Novalie paused, glancing beside her before looking to him again. "They have been trying to get this muggle-born psychologist, she's a bit off of the grid, but it's very interesting," she said, leaning forward slightly as a slight mischievous look touched her eyes. "Her name is Greengrass." She sat back up, raising her eyebrows at him slightly. "Perhaps it's a coincidence. I don't know too much about the family, seeing as I did not really grow up around the families here. I know there is an extension of them outside of the ones who live around here, but I find it curious."
"Freya. I have a suggestion, and I doubt you'll like it knowing you're type, but I think you ought to consider it," the Astronomy professor told Freya as she stood before her after class with her usual pile of questions. "Perhaps taking a muggle class during your summer vacation would allow you to further your knowledge on the matter. It is an area muggles' knowledge surpasses ours."
Freya stared at her before an absurd snort escaped her, eyeing the witch up and down. Was she completely mad?
"And how do you suppose I go about that, professor? Yes, I'll just go attend some muggle school right by my house. I'm sure that will go unnoticed by everyone."
"I understand you and your types have your rules, but it's something to think about, my dear. You're my best student and I'd like you to learn beyond what I can teach you. You're passionate. That is worth something. If you consider it, I'm happy to help, but if you'd like to look yourself there are books in the library that go along with Muggle Studies. Goodnight, Miss Krat," she said brightly, grabbing her things before leaving her alone in the tower, not answering any of her questions.
She loved her Astronomy professor, but she was absurd most of the time.
Freya stared at the night sky for a while, breathing in the crisp night air calmly as she observed the stars, closing her eyes. She only had one more year after this one at Hogwarts before she would be permanently stuck in the world she despised more than anything. No escape from the plastered smiles and fake pleasantries, no uniforms to separate the competition of fashion and wealth.
At least she would be married and away from her home. She would have a new home, a new name, and she could forget everything from her previous life.
No, she wouldn't forget. As if she could ever forget.
Freya shoved herself away from the tower, going down the stairs to return back to her common room to find her friend, and likely future husband, sitting on one of the couches reading a letter. She dropped her stuff on the floor beside him, sitting next to him close enough so their legs were pressed against each other, looking over to read his letter. He flipped it over and set it on the table, looking to meet her eyes. "No need to be sticking your nose into my business, Freya," he told her, though his voice was lighthearted.
"And why not? You know all of my business," she quipped, reaching for the letter before it was levitated away from her before he plucked it out of the air and shoved it into his pocket.
She rolled her eyes, grabbing the base of her ponytail before pulling her hair through her fingers as she watched him, eyeing the unusual darkness that had been growing in his features.
She didn't like it. Not at all.
"Don't let them, this," she started, looking down as she tried to think of the words to give him. "Don't let this.. What you're doing. Change you, Joseph."
"Are you getting soft on me, Krat?" He snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. "Going to profess your love for me too?"
Freya narrowed her eyes at him, her jaw setting in irritation. She shook her head, reaching down to grab her things before he grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Sorry. I get it, alright? I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I know you need me," he told her, smirking.
"I believe it's you who needs me," she mumbled, jerking her arm away.
Joseph frowned as he considered this. "You're right. So don't go soft on me, and don't let anyone break you before you're my actual responsibility."
"Break me," she scoffed. "Impossible. Have we even met before?"
He leaned back against the couch, his eyelids falling slightly in apparent tiredness. Her eyes fell to his lap and they were silent for a while along with the room besides a couple of third years in the corner, chattering quietly to themselves.
"Sometimes I just want to leave. Everything," she said quietly, staring off.
"Nobody leaves, Freya. They are only cast out. Don't try to leave. For both of our sakes."
"I won't actually try to leave," she answered coolly. "You know I won't. I'm only saying. Sometimes I wish to."
"Hmm. As long as you don't do anything stupid."
"You're being stupid," she ground out, looking to him now, her worry and resentment for his recent involvement in his nonsense filling her tone. "What you're doing now is stupid."
Joseph's lip curled and he sneered at her, standing abruptly and Freya flinched naturally at his sudden, angry movement. "Isn't that why you stick to my side? Because I'm stupid? I don't fall under the category of 'intelligent men' that you fear so?"
Joseph didn't wait for a response before he turned and left her there as she stared at his retreating figure, her eyebrows coming together in her anger as well as her desire to correct him. No, she didn't consider Joseph to be very intelligent, but he certainly wasn't stupid.
And he was all she had.
She was staring into the Nott's fireplace during Spring Break, where she spent most of her vacations when she listened to Abigail Nott enter the room.
"Abigail," she began to Joseph's mother, not looking from the fireplace. "Your investments in the muggle world.. Where are they located again?"
She attempted to keep her tone simply curious and neutral, as if she were making small talk, but she felt her stomach act up in her nervousness as alarms went off in her head.
She shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't even be thinking of this, shouldn't be considering this. This was stupid. She wasn't this stupid was she? How was a hobby even worth this? It was just for a bloody class she was interested in.
She would never have a chance at education again if she didn't..
"In the United States of America, darling. Mississippi. Well, the base of it anyway as the location itself doesn't have much money coming out of it. Don't ask me all of the fine details, it isn't me who handles that after all. Horrid place, but we couldn't very well choose somewhere decent now could we? No, no one would ever guess that location, especially with the practically nonexistent magical community there," she told her, sounding casual much to Freya's relief.
"How do you get there? Surely apparition would be much too dangerous for somewhere that far."
"We have a few portkeys in the office that lead to the building we have there. I try to avoid it as much as possible. Truly, it's very bizarre there, a nightmare really. The muggles are far worse than our own muggles. Sorry, love. If you're looking for an easy trip to America I wouldn't recommend ours. However, the money coming from them is useful, and surprisingly enough there is even a bit of profit transferring muggle money to our own."
"Aren't you ever worried you will get caught? I mean.. Should the pure-blood community find out.." Freya said slowly, nervous for her friend's family for even trusting Freya, though she knew she'd never expose them. Not after everything they had done for her over the years.
"We've been doing this for a while, dear. No need to worry for us! Make no mistake, our whole community is based on mostly lies and secrets. It's only a matter of who keeps the best ones," Abigail told her, winking at her before checking her face in the mirror. "Come now, help me set up some of the decorations."
Once summer arrived, Freya found herself entering the muggle school, her stomach tearing itself apart in her nerves.
She should not be there. She was going to get caught.
No, she had to go through with this. She had put too much work into getting to this point, and she had already risked asking for help from her Astronomy professor to back down now. She wouldn't get caught, she never got caught. She was smarter than that.
Secrets were all a part of the game, no?
Getting into the school had been a much more difficult task than she had expected. Apparently her age was lower than required, apparently she needed this and that, apparently she had needed many things that she of course had no record of. Which was fine, a lot of forgery had been involved. No matter. Her professor had a bit of experience in the field of sneaking students into muggle schools.
Still, as much as she wanted to trust the woman, it was still driving her mad with anxiety that she knew this about her. What would happen if she were to be found out? It wouldn't merit being disowned, no, but it certainly would be a scandal, and it certainly would get her hurt. She didn't want to think of what her father would do should he ever find out about this. Something like this would lose her all of her current potential husbands, most likely Joseph as well, and she'd have to settle for much, much lower.
She didn't want lower. If she was going to be miserable, she wanted to be the best of the miserables.
It was just one class.. It wasn't as if she were here for the muggles.
She wouldn't get caught, no. She didn't tell her professor which school or too many details. She had only asked her for small amounts of information on how to go about getting to where she was now. Her teacher seemed mad enough that no one would believe her anyway, or at least think her confused.
She was safe. She needed to calm down.
She found the classroom she had been looking for at last and slipped into it quietly. She had been trying quite hard not to gawk around her like an idiot at the incredibly strange environment. It truly couldn't be more unfamiliar or odd, and she didn't try to look at anything for too long as to not stick out and look like an absolute idiot. Her eyes grazed the off looking seats quickly, immediately feeling all of the male gazes on her as they moved up and down her body.
Hmm. Seemed all types of males acted the same.
She had clothed herself in the most muggle-close dress she could manage, but she quickly learned based on the females she had glanced at on her way through the building that she definitely did not match them. She was also a bit over dressed. At least she had not attempted to wear robes..
She heard a few low whistles and she grimaced. Did these muggles honestly believe she would respond to such advances? The class was rather small, and there were only a couple of women that she could count. Mostly men, and only a few open seats, most of the seats between the men eyeballing her. Her eyes fell to the seat in the very corner, next to a dark skinned man who was probably the most attractive muggle in the room, as well as the only man not violating her with his eyes. Yes, if she sat there she'd only have to sit beside one muggle. She could handle one.
She moved towards the seat, quietly setting her bag down before sitting. She audibly heard people turn in their seats to look at her with odd expressions on their faces. Freya suddenly felt very insecure in her own skin under the judgement of these strange looking muggles but she forced herself to keep her chin high, narrowing her eyes at some of the stares.
What the fuck did they want?
She glanced over at the man next to her whose eyebrows were now raised at her, a small and amused smile tilting the corners of his mouth up. "You're really gonna sit there?"
"What?" She demanded. "What is it? Honestly, is there something wrong with where I've chosen to sit? I was truly only trying to avoid the hideous men up there who appear to believe that they could ever have a chance to even come near me." Freya paused to look all of the men in the eye before pulling the hair of her ponytail through her fingers as she scoffed before looking to the man beside her again challengingly.
The class filled with disgusted mutters and she heard some of the men snap nasty remarks back, though their alarming accents distracted her more than their words.
The man beside her held up his hands in surrender, leaning back slightly before nodding his head once in respect, his expression still amused and surprised. "No problems here, honey," he answered, his voice a low and natural drawl.
"Lovely," she responded, her voice clipped.
"Now students, we are now in the seventies for Christ's sake. Eyes up here, please. Class is about to start," the teacher, Mr. Smith according to the board, said loudly to them as he put his things down on his desk. "Get your supplies out."
Freya frowned when she saw everyone pull out their odd looking parchment and writing sticks. Of course, she had forgotten about this.
"Unprepared on the first day of class? C'mon now."
She glanced at the man to see him holding out a handful of the muggle parchment to her and in the other hand a writing stick. Pencil, she remembered. She took the materials from him, her lips pressed together.
"Thank you," she told him, forcing her voice to stay comfortable though she felt off being polite to a muggle.
"Anytime," he told her, flashing her a wide smile, a sincere warmth in his eyes. "I'm Abe."
"Freya," she replied after taking a breath. Had she thought she wouldn't have to at least speak with a few muggles?
One muggle. Just one. She could do that.
After class, Freya was wandering around outside, squinting at the map she was attempting to follow to find the muggle hotel she was supposed to stay at. She huffed and wiped the sweat from her forehead, staring disgusted at her hand when she pulled it away. It was so hot here and the air was almost wet. She could barely bloody breathe! And it was the night. What business did the night have being so hot?
"Where you off to and why're you out here at this time wearin' what you're wearin'?"
Freya jumped and turned around to see Abe, his face bewildered and slightly concerned.
"I'm not sure what you mean by what I'm wearing, but I'm looking for this," she told him, moving beside him to point to the location on the map she was searching for.
Abe took the map, giving her an odd look as he held it up to his face before his lips twitched with amusement. "Ah.. This map is old. Very old. Where did you come across this?"
Freya scowled, snatching the map from him in frustration. "Does it matter? Are you saying it's inaccurate?"
"Uh.. Yes."
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her palms to her forehead in frustration. Why was this so hard? Why was the class so confusing? Why were muggles so hard to understand?
"Well could you at least point me in the direction of the nearest place I can stay?" She asked him tightly.
"Hey, don't worry. I won't let you get lost. Well, from now on anyway. You're exactly where you should not be at the moment. You do not want to be 'round here with my mama's mortgage hangin' from your neck. Not at this time of night."
She looked down at her necklace then back up to him, saying nothing in reply.
"Nearest hotel? Eh.. How much money d'you have?" He asked her, rubbing the back of his neck.
She opened her purse to pull out the thick pile of muggle money which was made out of an odd paper material. His eyes widened and he pushed her hands down in her purse gently in alarm. "Alright! Keep that out of sight, don't need anyone to see that. Sorry," he said, his voice becoming sheepish when he looked at his hands on hers, pulling away. "Really. Not a good part of town to be pullin' that out. But.. Good. You don't want to stay 'round here. I'll take you where you belong."
"Where I belong?" She asked, stepping back from him.
"Where you belong," he confirmed, half chuckling. "C'mon. The nicer part of town is that way." He motioned with a jerk of his head, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked in the direction.
Freya didn't move for a moment, thinking of how a muggle had just touched her. Skin to skin contact. Ah, if Joseph could see her now..
She pushed herself forward, walking swiftly to catch up with him, The streets were quiet, and she only saw a few muggles lurking in the shadows here and there. The houses were all close together and very, very poor looking.
She saw him looking at her from the corner of his eye before he tilted his head slightly, looking appreciative. "You know, for a lost girl you sure look like you know exactly where you're headed."
"Well I did know where I was going according to my map," she sniffed, wondering how she was going to get anywhere now.
"You sure did," he chuckled. "That's a nice accent. Why you in Mississippi?"
"To take this class."
"One class?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Uhh.. And they didn't have have that one class where you're from?"
"Well," she said slowly. "I wanted to see America."
"So you come to Mississippi to do it?"
"Yes. I was told it was very beautiful," she insisted, nodding confidently.
"Ah huh.. Alright then. Alone?"
"Indeed."
He shook his head in disbelief, muttering something under his breath. "Your family let you off to another country alone and by yourself? With nothing but.. More money than I've ever seen in one place and the clothes on your back? Oh, let's not forget your outdated map."
"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself," she responded firmly.
"You're somethin', Freya. I'll give you that," he breathed, shaking his head yet again.
She smirked to him, tilting her head. "I try my best."
He blinked at her change of tone and gave her a lazy grin in response, looking ahead. "My baby sister would lose her mind if she heard you talk. She goes crazy over accents, and we don't get too many different ones."
"Well I suppose I ought to meet her then," she replied without thinking, not sure why she'd offer to meet a child muggle for no reason.
He looked at her with a puzzled expression, though still the small, amused smile stayed on his face. "Whatever you say."
As they approached a more full part of the muggle area, she noticed small shops and several more muggles, the area better lit than where she had been before. She found everyone staring at her, again, judgement all over their faces.
What was going on with them? Did she truly stick out that much? It's as if they could sense she was not a muggle like them.
She yelped loudly and jumped back into her walking companion as her thoughts were broken when one of the strange muggle carriages sped past her, loud and even stranger looking than the couple of muggle ones she had seen in her lifetime.
She felt his strong and sure hands on her as he caught her when she practically jumped into his arms, helping to steady her. "You alright there?" He asked her, his voice confused and she looked up to see him glancing around. She followed his eyes, seeing some of the muggles outright glaring at them.
She turned to him, motioning to the muggles around them. "What is their problem?!" She demanded, glaring fiercely at an elderly couple who had stopped to stare at them in disgust.
"Ah.. Mississippi is a bit behind on the times, honey. A white woman walkin' next to a black man in this part of town?"
"A.. What?" She asked, her facial features scrunching together. "This is about.. What?"
"Maybe I should have been born wherever you come from because you seem real and honest to God confused at the idea."
How had she not read this? Heard about this? Muggles had a problem with difference in skin color? "They're staring because you have dark skin and I have pale skin?"
"The palest I've ever seen actually. Do you even see sun where you're from?"
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever head," she scoffed loudly, ignoring his comment before turning forward again, staring at the muggles daringly before taking his arm, walking considerably closer to him.
He said nothing, but he expressed his surprise in his warm expression before he settled back into walking with her, seemingly trying to ignore the dark stares they were receiving.
"Here," he said, nodding to the large building in front of them. The hotel.
"Thank you," she sighed, looking through her purse and offering him whatever piece of paper money she grabbed first.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Keep that. I don't want your money."
"Alright.." She responded, putting it away. What did he want then?
He began to back away slowly, his lazy grin returning. "I'll see you tomorrow, Freya."
"Wait," she said frowning, looking around. "How do I get back..? Can you give me directions?"
He seemed to hesitate, looking beside her before back to her, his dark eyes searching hers kindly. "I'll walk with you. I'll meet you here thirty minutes before class, alright?"
Freya sucked in a relieved breath, nodding gratefully. She was thankful for her muggle.
"You can't be serious," Draco sneered to the Auror in front of him, his eyes narrowing. "Is that not what you've been doing to us the entire time? Analyzing us and writing shit down?"
Astoria frowned at Draco, attempting to hide her disapproval for how he chose to react to the Aurors. If they wanted the Aurors on their side, they had to be friendly and polite. They had to work with the Aurors, no matter how incredibly irritating they really were.
"Well, yes, Malfoy. However, we are not psychologists, and we have yet to find much that is useful. So obviously we are not observing you correctly. It shouldn't be much different from just speaking with us, really," Granger responded calmly beside Dine.
Dine was easily Astoria's favorite out of all of them. He was quiet and she never saw judgment in his eyes. He simply did his job. An actual professional, unlike most of them.
"How much more of your presence will we have to put up with exactly? You practically live here," Draco said through his teeth, his body tense.
It was understandable, his reaction. He was fed up, as they all were. Astoria shifted closer to him, her leg brushing his in an attempt to comfort him just a bit. Though perhaps she'd make it worse, depending on his mood. He seemed to struggle with himself on whether he was still completely furious with her or if he was alright with her.
He had comforted her though, and that was something. Everything, actually. She didn't know what she would have done had he not helped her out of that. That adding to the list of things she refused to think about, along with the reason Draco was resentful towards her in the first place. No, she didn't need to think of any of it, and she would be just fine.
"Until we get to the bottom of this, Malfoy," Granger replied, her voice irritated. "We don't enjoy this any more than you do. We don't want to be around you all, especially not me; a muggle-born. We're only trying to do our job. Besides, your much safer with us coming around frequently. You should be a bit grateful for that."
"Grateful," Draco repeated. "Sure. So grateful. I absolutely love having holier-than-thou Gryffindors in my face in my own home for weeks upon weeks now."
"We understand why you have to do what you have to do, Hermione," Astoria said, smiling to her.
Draco narrowed his eyes at her before rolling them, shifting away from her. Astoria tried not to let her face fall, sighing inwardly. She was only trying to help them and their family, their small family of the two of them. There was a reason her family stayed out of trouble and suspicion. They knew how to act in these situations, she knew how to act in this situations. She had no idea how Draco must have acted when she was not allowed to be downstairs when the Aurors were there, but she could imagine he acted even less friendly than he did around her and no longer fuming from the recent events of her infidelity.
"No need to get angry at your wife for being reasonable," Granger snapped. "Honestly, you're horrible aren't you? She's much too good for you."
Why did she find it necessary to defend her all of the time? Did she think it did Astoria any good? She wondered how Granger was in romantic relationships, if she was always this snappy. She wondered what it would be like for it to be acceptable to be this snappy with her husband. She occasionally had the desire to snap at him, but she didn't see how it would help. Granger certainly didn't help when she snapped at Draco for her.
"Granger," Draco drawled, watching her with a dull expression. "Is it your job to critique the relationship I have with my wife? Is that what you're trained to do? Well, no wonder nothing has been done after weeks of this nonsense."
Granger shook her head, looking slightly rattled. She truly should learn to control her emotions a bit better, always getting ruffled over the smallest things regarding Astoria and Draco.
"When will we be assessed?" Astoria asked her curiously. She didn't really mind. It was basically what the Aurors had been doing. Annoying, but bearable.
"I'm not completely sure. They only have a couple psychologists at the moment, and I believe they are trying to get.. Different types. To get different opinions."
"Different types?"