~ The Road To Cuckoo ~
The train chattered noisily around her, as Freya, with difficulty, slid the door to the compartment open, Jinx's basket rocking precariously in her arms. The three students inside looked up abruptly at her invasion, and she saw they had been looking over the morning's issue of 'The Daily Prophet', with the tagline: Inferi in Paris.
She smiled awkwardly. "Um, I'm really sorry, but everywhere else seems to be full, or horrendously over-crowded. Would you mind if I..?"
Freya nodded subtly to the spare seat by the door, and the three had barely managed to conceal their disappointment of having to share their space, before one, a boy, gave a begrudging nod.
"Thank you." She sighed. To be honest, she was just relieved she wouldn't have to search further up the train, and eagerly dropped into her seat. "I'm Freya by the way. Freya Ravenwood."
She stared at her fellow travellers, two boys and a girl who were about her age, but they said nothing. Instead two looked mildly annoyed that what ever they had been chatting about, her presence had forced to a close.
Oops.
Freya tried another tactic, determined to be friendly, and keep to her promise that she would try. "So you're Slytherins?" She said, noting the green, and serpent detail on their robes. "Would you recommend it as a good house, or – "
"I'm sorry, who are you?" The girl spat suddenly, sounding anything but. "Only, I don't seem to remember ever seeing you before, and you're a little overgrown for a first year."
"I've already told you who I am." Freya replied politely, however, she was unable to keep the edge out of her tone.
"Yes." The girl scoffed back. "But what are you doing here Freya Ravenwood?"
"Currently, I am sitting." She answered flatly. "Difficult as that is to grasp."
She made to move, deciding that this choice of seat was a mistake, but a low chuckle distracted the two girls, and Freya found herself glaring at the the boy who had yet to acknowledge her.
He shook his head indulgently. "Don't mind Ara, Miss Ravenwood, she can be a tad tetchy at the best of times. Though she means well, I'm sure." He fixed his companion with a look. "I'm Alphard by the way, and this is my brother Cygnus, and our delightful cousin, Araminta. We are of 'The Noble House of Black'." He finished, waving his hands theatrically.
Freya couldn't help but notice the hint of contempt his voice held, and although Alphard smiled, she found it to be strained.
"I've heard of your family." She acknowledged, ghosting a smile at the other two. Though she begrudged it to Araminta. "My father's mentioned you once or twice."
What she didn't say, was that it was to do with the unmentionable treatment of Muggles, and certain shall we say, embarrassing, artefacts found in the Black's family home.
"And who is your father?" Araminta cut in. "Ravenwood isn't a name I've heard of before. It's not Muggle, is it?
Freya lifted her chin, unhappy with Araminta's tone. "My Grandfather was Muggle-Born, so that is likely where the name comes from, yes."
"How unfortunate." Ara continued. "Still, it can't always be helped. Even the strongest family lines have set backs from time to time."
"I don't really see how being Muggle-Born is a set back." Freya glowered, gritting her teeth to the point her jaw ached.
She was really getting the urge to slap that smug smile right off of Araminta's perfect face.
Breathe, visualise, control.
The latter's grin widened. "Don't you? How odd. We were just saying how we think this Grindlewald character has got the right idea. If – "
"Ara!" Cygnus abruptly barked, finally finding his voice. His tone was clipped and hard, as though it stood on the foundations of a thousand years of good breeding. "I do loath talk of politics, cousin, and I would think that now is not the place." He said meaningfully, giving Freya a sweeping once over. "Clearly Miss Ravenwood does not share your views. For now, leave it at that."
Araminta pouted, but a word from her cousin was enough to send her into silence. Cygnus picked up 'The Prophet' and began reading it alone, uninterested in what anyone else had to say any more. Freya looked at Alphard, who in turn offered her the briefest of shrugs, and turned his interest to the passing countryside.
Apparently that was that. The conversation had diffused as quickly as it had begun. Freya was just grateful that she had decided to wear her robes onto the train, there was no way she would have asked for help from these three in finding a place to change.
They travelled in silence.
Well this is going to be a fun journey, she thought. Maybe I should have brought some sleeping draught for myself.
Then she thought about being unconscious in the presence of her travel companions, and conceded that maybe it wouldn't be the best of ideas. Araminta might gut me where I lay, what with all the vile, disgusting Muggle Blood that's running in my veins. Honestly, Freya knew of Pure-Blood extremists, but she expected better from people her own age. They weren't living in the Dark Ages, after all.
I need to get out of here.
"I'm going to stretch my legs." She announced suddenly, placing Jinx's basket down on the seat. She caught a wave of excitement ripple off of Araminta, as she spied the sleeping feline, and with a sinking feeling, Freya felt the ill intent behind it. Leaning forward, Freya bit back bile, bending herself down to Ara's height, as she casually murmured, "Listen, I'm really hoping that we just got off on the wrong foot, but I swear, if you touch my cat, we are going to have some serious problems. Is that understood?"
Araminta blanched. "I wasn't – "
"You were." She replied darkly. "Like me, don't like me, I really don't care, but leave my cat alone." Freya warned, feeling the familiar whirring of emotion inside her, that meant things were about to get out of hand. She took a breath. "I mean it, Araminta."
"Your cat will be fine." Alphard intervened, giving his cousin a disapproving glare. "I give you my word."
Freya didn't really know if that counted for much, but she trusted Alphard more than she did the other two, and he seemed sincere enough. She nodded. "Thank you."
Freya slid eagerly into the waiting corridor, rocking hazardously along it as she made her way to the open window of a train door. She sighed, resting her head against the frame. The breeze was helping, she could feel herself calming down.
Breathe, Freya.
Up ahead she could make out the door to the last carriage. This one was more ornate than the others, she noted, and had a large resounding 'P' embellished on the front.
P for perfect, she joked.
Closing her eyes, Freya enjoyed the warmth the September sun brought her, it's heavy rays blanketing her face in it's heat. She started to feel that it would be nicer to stand there for the remainder of the journey, than to sit in comfort, in the delightful company of her fellow passengers.
Freya heard a door open in the distance, but barely paid it any mind, still too busy soaking up the sun to care about such minor things. It was only as a dark shadow fell across her elvish features, bringing the cold with it, that her gaze forcibly snapped open.
"You." She gasped, suddenly staring up into the deep, bottomless well of Tom Riddle. Her stomach plummeted. "You –?"
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" He answered politely, staring at her in confusion, and throwing her immediately off guard.
Freya just gaped at him; was he joking?
Noticing for the first time that there was a girl hovering dutifully at his shoulder, she pressed on, not wanting to appear like a complete idiot.
"What do you mean 'Do I know you?'" Freya scoffed lightly. "We've met before. That day in Diagon Alley, remember?"
"How puzzling." He said lightly. "I have absolutely no recollection. Perhaps you are confusing me with someone else?"
"No." Freya replied firmly. "It was you."
Tom's brow furrowed in thought, as though he really, truly had no idea who she was, and gave his head another subtle shake.
"I'm really am very sorry. Perhaps we can talk later, and see where this confusion has come from?But I'm afraid that now, I must attend to my Prefect duties." He smiled pointedly. "Excuse me."
Freya stared after him flabbergasted. Why on earth would he stand there and pretend he had never met her before? What could he possibly hope to achieve through it? She watched him as he glided purposefully down the train, checking each of the compartments thoroughly as he passed.
Rotten snake. I'm not mad. She thought to herself. I'm not. He was there.
Riddle was different too, she realised, not so detached, or cold. That day in Diagon Alley, he'd really frightened her. The warmth he had feigned a moment ago was never once present on that day, and she found herself unable to accept this polite character he was playing.
And then there was the dream.
Freya shuddered, reasoning that perhaps it would be best not to dwell on such things. She turned, no longer feeling comfortable being so exposed in the corridor, and sought solace in her compartment.
She entered, happy to find that Jinx was still alive and well, and sleeping happily.
"Feeling any better?" Alphard, asked. Apparently he'd taken more note of her feelings when she'd left, than she'd realised.
She frowned down at her hands. "I have absolutely no idea."
And with that she fell silent, hugged Jinx's basket tight to her torso, and prepared to wait out the rest of the journey. Frustratedly puzzling over the question, of why a sixteen year old boy, would need to hide behind masks.
R&R!
You like? Thank you for my review 'Guest', sorry I couldn't reply personally to you, maybe next time? Still, it wasn't exactly what you were expecting, eh?
You will learn more about Freya's power. Though some of you might be able to guess?
It may be a few days before I can update again, but hopefully by the end of the weekend? Reviews help authors type faster XD
Take care xx