*NOTE*

I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters within JKR's world. I will use them and return them slightly used. OC is my own creation.

*Translation*

Søde: sweetie

tryllestavløs: wandless, meaning muggle

I forgot a few translations of the last chapter. Skat directly translates to treasure, and has two meanings in Denmark. You can use it as a term of endearment, meaning something like "sweetie." It is also the name of the tax ministry in Denmark, "Skat" literally meaning treasury. :) People sometimes call it "Skattefar," meaning "taxdaddy" for fun.

Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Review/follow for more. 3

xx

Freja woke suddenly, sitting up in bed. She looked around the room until her memories of the previous night slowly came back to her. The white, silky sheets under her fingers provided some comfort to her aching heart. "Get it together, you have to go on," she thought to herself. Now that there was daylight, she could see her room fully. The room was large, with a queen sized bed placed in the middle. The sheets were emerald green with silver lining, matching the dressers and vanity mirror on the other side of the room. "These were white when I arrived last night, they must have been changed after my sorting," Freja mused.

Sliding her legs out of bed, she stretched before placing her toes on the floor. "Fuck, that's cold," she thought before transfiguring a spare pillow into fuzzy red fox slippers. Smirking, she slid into them before walking to the door at the far corner of the room.

Stepping inside, she took note of the black granite floor and walls lining the bathroom. It was simple, but comfortable. A stand-up shower stood in the corner, with a glass wall separating it from the tub. Next to that was the toilet, along with drawers to keep her things. With a snap of her fingers, her shower soaps, lotions, and cosmetics floating to the bathroom and vanity mirror in her room. With another snap, Freja placed a simple heating charm on the floor and room to provide some comfort.

Slipping out of her pajama top and bottoms, Freja stepped into the shower. "This definitely beats the closet showers back home in Copenhagen," she smiled. Turning the water heat up until it was almost burning, the witch leaned into the cascading water, allowing it to melt away the tension in her back.

Freja, like her mother, was a beautiful witch. She was a bit shorter than her mother, but had the same blonde curly hair that stopped at her shoulders. Freckles covered her cheeks and button nose, making her green eyes pop. She was slim, with slightly muscular thighs and arms, courtesy of her love of tryllestavløs sports. Lathering soap into her hair and on her body, the young witch took several deep breaths of the steam before washing the soap off, observing the soap bubbles rolling off her stomach. With another wave of her hand, several conditioning and products circled around her, applying products to tame her curls.

After a while, Freja rinsed off in freezing cold water before stepping out into the moist but warm air of the bathroom. Flipping her head forward, she scrunched her curls up, squeezing water out to prevent her curls from drying, weighed down. Stepping back into her fox slippers, he padded back into the room and applied scent-free lotion laced with calming draught. If there was one thing Freja hated, it was overly scented products. She tended to lean towards the natural, fresh smell that soap provided, save the musky tobacco-scented perfume she was fond of.

With the calming lotion taking effect, she opened her closet to find a set of new clothes. Frowning, Freja withdrew one hanger to get a better look. "Seriously? They have a uniform?" she thought. Crisp, scratchy fabric ran between her fingers. A white shirt, black sweater with green stitching, a green and silver tie, with a skirt, stockings, and a cloak. "These British wizards are so wound up, aren't they?" she snorted, slipping the uniform off the hanger.

Once dressed, Freja glanced at herself in the mirror. Smirking, she slowly transfigured the uniform to fit her more snuggly around her bosom, shortening the length of her skirt to just above the knee. "I am not in a nunnery, after all," she mused. "But this tie really is horrid!" After a moment's consideration, she threw the tie on the bed, forgoing it altogether. One last wave of her hand applied mascara to her light lashes, a bit of blush to her cheeks, and a clear chapstick on her lips. Grabbing her bag, she threw her wand in before dashing out of the room, her door clicking behind her.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" asked Freja, walking into the large office.

"Ah, yes," the older wizard said, turning towards her, back now to the window. "I was just admiring the castle grounds. It's beautiful this early in the morning."

Nodding, the witch sat down across from his desk, waiting for him to find his spot. Once both were sitting, Dumbledore carefully eyed the girl, looking for signs of distress or anxiety. "How are you this morning?" he asked.

Shrugging, the girl leaned back into her chair, suddenly tired. "I am okay. I think it will take me a few days to get used to the changes. A bit tired, you see…" she mumbled, breaking off. "I am very grateful for you taking me in, even though I am not entirely sure why it was necessary. I trust my parents, though. And if they trust you, then I think I must learn to do the same," she added, with a small smile.

"I know it must be confusing, but you are right. There is a reason your parents have chosen their current course of action, and while it may not be clear to you at this moment, I am confident you will learn more in the future. When you are ready," the older wizard said kindly. "Now, have you decided upon which classes you wish to continue in?" he asked, changing the subject, noticing the glistening of tears in the witch's eyes across from him.

Taking a deep breath, Freja nodded. "I believe so," she mumbled. "I wish to continue in Defense Against the Dark Arts. My father was training me in dueling, and I would like to continue." The older wizard nodded him agreement. "Transfiguration, but not the traditional type."

"Traditional, my dear?" asked the wizard, giving her a small smile.

"Yes, a more experimental form of Transfiguration I have been studying the past few years. I understand that average wizarding curricula offer the standard transfiguration education, in the sense of changing an object from one thing to another, animate to inanimate, and vice-versa. I was hoping to expand on that, and practice offensive, and even defensive transfiguration," she explained, eyeing the wizard carefully for any signs of approval. "You see, I have been experimenting with changing small items into other things, like sand to needles, or rocks to knives… That is easy enough. What I am hoping to do is train my magical core to engage in this type of Transfiguration with a simple thought– no wand, no hand magic. I want it to come as quickly as a thought. This is imperative in a defensive sense, where I may be able to transfigure things around me into a shield without needing to cast a shielding charm."

The older wizard observed the younger witch before him, a smile on his face and eyes twinkling. "That sounds like a wonderful research topic, and one that I am sure Professor McGonagall would be more than happy to support you in. Also, dare I say it, it may serve you well in the years to come." he continued, fixing the girl with a knowing look.

Nodding, the girl breathed a breath of fresh air. "Yes, I was thinking that as well. In addition, I would like to continue in Potions and Herbology. My father, as you know, is a Potions Master, and I grew up brewing with him in his lab. Particularly, I am interested in.. " she stopped suddenly, looking down at her hands.

"Go on, my dear," encouraged the old man kindly, but curiously.

"In brewing something that will allow one to rid themselves of the dark mark, forever," she finished, looking up and locking her eyes with his. "My father started this line of inquiry when I was a child. He was very open with me regarding the first Wizarding War in Britain, and the madman you call Voldemort. He had a very dear childhood friend who lost his way, joining the Death Eater ranks, only to regret it later in life. He attempted to defect, but as I am sure you know, once you're a Death Eater, it's seemingly impossible to escape with your life. He spent his free time in the lab, experimenting and trying to find an answer. He did not tell me the purpose of the potion until recently, but I have all his notes and findings, and would like to continue if I am able."

"That is certainly a reasonable request, and understandable as it is close to your heart. But, if I may ask such a direct question, why is it so important that you continue the work?" asked the older wizard. "This was your father's friend after all."

"Yes, but I believe firmly in second chances. While I have no memories of my father's friend, I do have the memories of pain and anger my father experienced with his murder. His friend wanted better, and if there is one, I can imagine there are others that would leave if they were given a real chance at life after," Freja said sincerely. "I am not just doing this for my father and his dead mate, I am doing it for all the lost souls begging for another chance."

"I support your choice. I am certain that Professor Snape will allow you to have some private time in the lab to expand on this research. There is, however, the question of cost in ingredients…"

"That will not be an issue, sir. I have enough money in my family estate to fund my own research. I am also able to grow and harvest many ingredients on my own, should I be allowed to use the greenhouses. I will not take from the school in that regard," she said quickly. "I just need to wait for the funds to be transferred to Gringotts."

"Excellent," Albus smiled. "So, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology… Is that all?"

Smiling slyly, Freja added, "Not quite. I was also hoping to continue in Ancient Runes. I am not particularly advanced in that field, but I do enjoy languages and learning runes. I hear Professor Sparks is the best in Europe, and I would relish the opportunity to learn from her. No special classes, I would like to just sit-in on her seventh-year course, if that is okay."

"That will not be an issue dear. I will see to it that I contact your various Professors, and relay to them your interests, so that they may schedule your first meetings. Now, in the meantime, we will have breakfast in the Great Hall soon, and then you are free to explore the castle, as well as the grounds, to better acquaint yourself with the school," the older wizard said kindly. "For the time being, I have an open schedule on Wednesdays and Thursdays after dinner. I would like to offer myself to be your DADA tutor, as our current professor has a rather… Ah, full plate should we say. Is that agreeable?"

"Thank you, sir," she responded, returning his smile. "I look forward to working with you, and hearing from the other Professors. I'll wait for your owl." Freja stood, nodded her head, and walked gracefully from the office, descending the phoenix stairs, slowly being lowered through the spiral staircase.

"Incredible," Albus thought. "This witch may just be the change in tide in the War to come. Thank Merlin they are on our side."

"Oi, and just who do you think you are, sitting in my spot?" a chubby boy asked, tapping her on the shoulder. "Move over!"

Rolling her eyes, she turned to glare at the boy. His round face left little room for his other features, his nose sitting awkwardly on his face, eyes scrunched to near-slits. She had received several odd looks from the Slytherin table, unsure of this new witch sitting amongst their ranks. They took note of her uniform's colours, and did not say much as she sat down. "Quit poking me before you lose that finger, boy," she said quietly, leveling him out with her eyes.

The boy took a step back, before his face turned red and serious. "You are in my spot!" he repeated.

"Lay off Crabe, she is clearly new. Is that how you welcome a new student to our house, much less a lady?" spat a pale, white-blonde haired boy. "Sit down somewhere else, before you hyperventilate or something," he continued, before turning his ice blue eyes onto the witch, extending his hand. "Hello. My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Welcome to Slytherin."

Taking his hand, she nearly grimaced at how damp and cold it felt. "Freja Nørgaard, thanks for the… Warm welcome," she mumbled, glancing at the round boy behind the new wizard.

"Ah, foreign witch are you?" he stated, sliding into the bench across from her. "Where are you from?"

"Denmark," she replied simply, spooning eggs into her mouth.

"What brought you to Hogwarts?"

"It is normal to do an exchange year in Denmark. I saved mine for my final year of education, and chose Britain. I hear Hogwarts has a nice reputation, and I can work on my English."

Scoffing, Malfoy added, "You probably have better English than half the lot in this school. Are you pureblood?"

"If you're asking me if both my mother and father are magical, yes," she said, immediately disliking the young boy. Then she remembered: the headmaster said Slytherin's value heritage. "I come from a prominent wizarding family in Denmark, but it does not matter much there. We do not put the same emphasis on blood status as you Brits," she added, trying to soften her tone. It would not do well to make enemies on her first day.

"I see," said Malfoy. "So you'll be joining the seventh-years then? I guess we won't be seeing much of you, except in the common areas."

"I am actually of age, and will be taking private and self-directed research for my final year. So, I won't be attending many traditional classes this year. Maybe we will see each other around, though," Groaning inwardly, she secretly hoped not. This boy seemed a total nonce.

"I see you have met our new shining star in Slytherin," a cold baritone voice mocked behind her. Turning, she locked eyes with those same intense obsidian eyes. "Miss… Freja," another grimace at the use of her first name. "Follow me."

Freja watched as Snape turned sharply, briskly walking to the front doors, cloak billowing behind him.

"Is there a draft in here that I don't know about?" she thought. "How does he make it blow like there's a wind storm around him all the time?"

"It's best to stay on Professor Snape's good side," squeaked a young girl to Malfoy's left. "He can be quite nasty, even to use Slytherins, if we step out of line."

Nodding her thanks, the witch heard an annoyed "Freja…" before she turned to see the black-clad wizard waiting on her. "I do not wish to be kept waiting!"

Saying her quick goodbyes, Freja grabbed her school bag before dashing behind the wizard, her shorter legs attempting to keep up with his longer ones.

Thanks for reading! Most of the information I include about Denmark is true, in terms of our education system, and how our education often goes past the age of 18, depending on the route each person decides to take.

This will be a slow burn. Some chapters I will put a lot of details, and others I may skip ahead in time by a few weeks, if not months. For now, I am interested in building Freja as a character, to set the state for plot development later. Have you guessed what book I have based this story in? Please let me know your guesses in the comments!

Thanks for reading.

xxx