~ The Road to Cuckoo ~
"Right, just stay close by."
"Yes, Mum."
"I mean it, Freya, there can be some questionable figures down Diagon Alley. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble."
"Yes, Mum."
Freya's mother, known to the others in society as Eliza Ravenwood, did not seem to notice her daughter's indifference, and continued to steer them speedily through the hectic streets of London.
"We shouldn't have to get much, we have most of the things you'll need for school at home, it's just your uniform, and some books, I think... unless you wanted a broom?"
Freya stared at her mother with the most incredulous of smiles. "A broom? Are you mad? Honestly, mum, it's like you don't even know me sometimes. I hate Quidditch."
"Correction, you hate watching Quidditch." Her mother quipped back, quickly pulling Freya through a large impatient crowd of Muggles. "You might enjoy playing it? It's a good way to meet people at least."
Freya laughed. "Yours, and Dad's tireless efforts to find me friends, is really endearing, you know? Unnecessary, but endearing."
"We just don't want you feeling lonely, Freya. It's going to be a big change. You've never been away from home before"
"If you're so worried, let me stay."
"Freya..."
"I'm kidding." She smiled quickly, hoping she hid her lie well. Eliza stopped suddenly, gazing at her daughter with a thoughtful expression, or more accurately – a guilty one. They stood there in silence for what must have only been seconds, but felt a lot longer, until finally Freya shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying, Mum."
Eliza nodded understandingly.
"And you will, won't you? You will try?" Her mother pressed, giving Freya's shoulder a passing squeeze.
Freya looked at Eliza's hopeful expression and sighed resignedly. "I will."
"Thank you. Now come on, we have shopping to do."
Freya was then pulled forcibly into an ancient looking establishment, a run of the mill pub, known to most magical folk as 'The Leaky Cauldron' – famous in its own right. She had only ever been there once before, when she was very, very little, and her father had stopped by there with her for some breakfast.
The place hadn't changed, and she doubted it ever would.
"We can grab some luncheon here before we head home, if you would like? Grab your school bits and pieces, and then a nice soup, or sandwich... What do you think?" Her mother asked, leading her though the pub, and into a courtyard out the back.
"Would love to, I'm starving." Freya confessed, now staring at a brick wall, with – she wouldn't mind to admit – more than a little confusion, until eventually she remembered. "Oh yes, the famous entrance. Please tell me you remember the order of how to get in?"
"Of course." Eliza replied confidently, brandishing her wand. "I'm not that old, you know. Senility hasn't claimed me yet."
"Never said it had, Mother-Dear." Freya rallied playfully.
Rolling her eyes, her mother turned, and raised her wand up to the wall, preparing to tap upon the first stone, only she hesitated, slowly turning back to Freya with a torn, and worried expression on her rounded features.
"There's going to be quite a few people around today, Freya. I know it can sometimes get a bit much for you, but... you will... you will try to be careful, won't you? Let me know if it's becoming too much, or if you're beginning to get certain... feelings? We don't want a repeat of the park, now, do we?"
No. Freya thought. No, we most certainly do not...She had tried so very hard to be good.
Freya shook her head silently. It was difficult to control herself – her gift, as her father called it – when she was surrounded by others; especially if feelings were running high, but she would have to, she had little choice. Unfortunately her lack of social interaction didn't really prepare her for much, let alone situations like these, when she would held in an overcrowded, packed street.
"I'll keep a lid on it, Mum. Promise."
"Good girl." Eliza praised softly, touching Freya's cheek, before finally turning to tap the rusty coloured bricks behind her.
The wall fell back into an archway, and Diagon Alley was revealed.
[-]
As their shopping began, her mother had insisted that they went around together, but once Eliza caught sight of one of her work colleagues from St Mungos, Freya was able to quietly slip away, telling her mother she would meet her back at the Leaky Cauldron at one 'o' clock.
Freya drifted through the crowd with a lot more ease than she thought she would, actually finding it surprisingly easy to pretend she was the only one in the street, her senses dulled to a mind numbing hum, as she manoeuvred her way through the sea of people. Soon she managed to find a safe haven in the bookshop 'Flourish & Blotts', eagerly slipping inside to escape the traffic of the alley.
Having already bought her school books earlier, Freya made haste to explore properly, this time without her mother's nagging eye, reminding her she was on a time-limit. She headed up to the second floor's top most corner, her reason being that most interesting books might be hidden away from your average witch or wizard, and tucked into some dark, mysterious alcove. She was left feeling disappointed however, finding only worn out encyclopedias, and dusty second-hand volumes of 'Witches Household'. What she did find however, were a trio of boys about her age, all huddled suspiciously together at the back of one of the book aisles.
Freya tried to make out that she hadn't noticed them, pretending to find interest in a series of books about the rise and fall of the Giants: 'Windlemore the Not so Chatty', and 'How Goliath Ate David'.
Just look over this lot for a few moments, and then head downstairs, she thought, you can't just runaway because someone's paying attention to you – well, not immediately, anyway – you'll look weird.
She tried not to feel bothered by the boy's presence, but she could tell they were well aware of her, even without looking. Their eyes like icy pinpricks in her spine. Her being there – for whatever reason – bothered them.
Probably up to no good. Stealing, or some other unwelcome behaviour, she reasoned, pulling a book from the shelf and glancing at it briefly, before carefully placing it back. Well, they're welcome to their life of crime, I've got more important places to be .
"Not leaving on our account?" One of the boys, the one with thick, chocolate curls, suddenly appeared at her side, his long face grinning smugly, as dark eyes slowly appraised her form. He glanced at the books she'd been feigning interest in. "Giants, eh? Bit dark for a nice girl like you?"
"Who said I was nice?" Freya replied coolly, aware that the others had also made their way over. She raised a brow. "Besides, I don't see how it's any business of yours, Mr...?"
"Lestrange." He replied, still smiling. "Ezra Lestrange. And these are my friends Julius Avery, and Tom Riddle."
Freya looked at each of the boys in turn, the blonde one smiled oddly, but the latter, Tom Riddle, said nothing. His dark eyes seemed to see into her very soul, making her feel as though she'd stepped into a lake of ice. She noted a ring on his left hand that held a black stone, and a childish urge to scream suddenly ripped through her, thankfully leaving almost as quickly as it had arrived.
She fought back a shiver.
"Yes, well." Freya began. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, and all that, but I really must be going."
"Wouldn't want to keep Mother waiting." Riddle murmured.
She gapped at him. "Excuse me?"
Riddle refused to reply, he simply continued to gaze at her in that haunting way he had. She swallowed hard.
He can't have just read my mind, surely? Not without using a wand at least? She thought, utterly horrified by the idea. What is it those people are called again? Leal-mens?Legilmines? No, they were so rare, it had to be a guess, of course it did... right?
She quickly turned her shocked look into a scowl, attempting not to appear too unnerved by his accurate prediction, and pointedly crossing her arms, she stuck her nose into the air.
"Exactly, Mr Riddle." She replied swiftly, turning on her heels. "So do enjoy the rest of your day, won't you gentleman."
She began making her swift getaway out of the stacks, only stilling at the end of the aisle when Lestrange boldly called to her.
"Manners, girl! You didn't tell us your name?"
"Ask Mr Riddle." She called back over her shoulder. "He seems to know everything else."
Freya stormed out of 'Flourish and Blotts', actually welcoming the crowd, and the cover it provided. What a creepy trio. She didn't really understand what she had just walked in on, but she knew she didn't like them, not one little bit. The expressions on their faces had made her skin crawl – especially the third one, Riddle – there was something not quite right about that boy.
Rolling her eyes, she growled under her breath. "I bet they bloody go to Hogwarts. That would be just my rotten luck. Stuck in a castle with those creepy three."
Freya stormed through the river of witches and wizards toward 'The Leaky Cauldron', trying to remain calm, but no matter how she tried, she could feel herself getting more, and more upset.
Come on Freya, pull yourself together.
It wasn't until a man accidentally knocked into her, and suddenly began bellowing at the top of his lungs, that he hated his wife's hat – seemingly for no reason – that Freya knew she needed to take a break, and quickly sought refuge in a small empty alcove.
"Breathe, Freya, no need to cause a riot." She said to herself, inhaling deeply.
My feelings are my own. Breathe, visualise, control. Breathe, visualise, control. The mantra her father had taught her long ago – sadly, it didn't always help.
Freya soon forgot about time, and meeting her mother for lunch, and when Eliza did find her daughter, she found her shaking uncontrollably down a forgotten side alley, muttering incoherent words, and sobbing with her face in her knees.
They never did have sandwiches and soup.
R&R!
Trying to get this story rolling, I appreciate the first chapter wasn't super interesting, I'm hoping this will incite some thoughts. Please let me know if I'm doing okay. It really don't want to go too AU, so reviews would help keep me in line.
Thank you to 'The Aspiring Cynic' my first reviewer, I shall reply to you :)
Night night x x x