Chapter 2

September 31st. The much anticipated day had finally arrived. Freya had been anxiously awaiting for this day to come ever since her letter had arrived. Though she was as excited as one young witch could be, she was also very nervous. There was even a sliver of fear under all that excitement and nerves. The fear stemmed from the possibility that she wouldn't be sorted into Gryffindor like her father, Aunt Syl, and brother. In place of bravery at heart, a love for knowledge and compassion resided. No, Freya didn't fear being sorted into Hufflepuff or even Ravenclaw, she feared not being able to uphold the family name as a proud Gryffindor. To most, this would have been a quite silly thought. But not to her.

It was quite exhilarating running through the barrier of 9 and 3/4. Seeing the crowds of people seeing off their children caused a small ache of yearning and pain in Freya's heart. But the feeling quickly went away. At least the Becket children had someone to see them off. Young Freya could not even fathom how horrid it might feel to not have nobody at all. The train was a magnificent sight to see; the maroon and black machinery gleaming.

Rather quickly, before their aunt could kiss her nephew farewell, Sebastion dodged her public display of affections and ran right for a pair of short, stocky, red headed twins. Arubtly, Freya wrapped her arms tightly around her aunt. "I'm going to miss you, Aunt Sylie!"

"And I you," her Aunt said fondly.

"Promise to write as much as possible? If not, I'll fear the worst possible things!"

Chuckling, Aunt Syl hugged the child closer to her. She could feel how tense Freya was. "I promise, my love. And remember, no matter what house you get sorted into, I will always love you. Your father would have said the same thing, though he would have been not so secretly rooting for you to be in Gryffindor."

Those were the exact words that Freya needed to hear. Time seemed to have no care for the tender moment between Freya and her aunt. As the whistle blew on the Hogwarts Express signaling it's nearing departure time, Kings Cross station soon began to fill with goodbyes. Gathering her courage, Freya let go of her aunt, smiled up at her and turned on her heel to make her way onto the train. She was ever so grateful that her luggage had already been magically placed on the train. She didn't look back, knowing the tears would come if she did. The crowds were slowly dispersing and Freya knew she'd have to hurry and board the train.

The train hallway was even more crowded and cramped with other students trying to find their friends or a compartment to sit in. It only took roughly twenty minutes for the halls to finally clear out. The trouble would be trying to find an empty place to sit and read her book. Freya didn't feel brave enough to approach people and instantly befriend them, like her brother could.

Freya was too preoccupied with finding a seat that she never noticed two very similar boys running her way."Bloody hell George, I said run not jog!" The red haired boy paid no attention to what was in front of him and slammed right into an oblivious Freya. "Oi," shouted Fred. He never finished his sentence once he noticed what seemed to be first year girl struggling to sit up. "Look here, we got an ickle firstie!"

Before Freya could shout at the world's most rudest boy, he quickly and rather gently, scooped her up into his arms and hurriedly dashed off into a surprisingly empty compartment. The boy plopped the girl he was carrying down on the seat, then casually sat down and began to lounge across from her. It took quite a bit of effort from Freya to not throw her beloved book at the smug looking red head. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked the rude boy straight in the eye. "I do hope you're going to apologize. I could have been hurt or knocked unconscious! And why in the seven nations would you be running in such a small space?" She didn't mean for her voice to raise a few octaves, but their overly smug faces and carelessness irritated the fire out of her.

"Blimey. This one has an accent," the boy across from her said.

"You're a Becket!" They both chorused in unison.

"My name is Freya!" She huffed.

They both chuckled. The boy who had knocked her down spoke up first. "My name is Fred Weasley."

"No, I'm Fred," the other interjected. "He's George."

The confusion as to which boy was which only irritated Freya more. "I don't care who is who! I just want a simple apology. Or even an explanation as to why you two found it necessary to run and trample over me!"

"We set off a dungbomb."

Freya could only sit in silence, shocked at how thick these two boys sounded. "ARE YOU TWO IDIOTS?"

"Bloody hell, woman. Calm down," mumbled Fred, who could have been George.

This answer didn't please Freya at all. She threw her book at the twin across from her and stormed out.

Like all the other first years, Freya was seated in a boated rowing itself across the lake. Hogwarts loomed over them, a giant in it's own domain. It was a very beautiful sight; the castle against the night sky, the lit up windows reflecting off of the lake water, even the twinkling of the stars. She had never seen anything quite as breath taking as this moment right now. Next to her sat a boy who seemed very high strung and noticeably distraught. She couldn't really find the right words to say to him, so all she could manage was a genuine smile. His cheeks flushed a crimson red and he looked away quickly.

The next hour seem to pass by in a blur. The children were all ushered into the castle and told to wait outside the great door that led to the dining hall. Thankfully, the two red headed twins were nowhere in sight. This seemed to ease Freya's nerves. Though she did spot another red headed boy.

Freya watched as a rather snobby looking boy stood in front of the red haired boy and another boy with rather untidy, black hair. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair... and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley." The boy sneered.

The young girl pushed through the crowd. "How about you leave him alone." She glared menacingly at this boy.

He scoffed. "Ah. American accent. I've heard of you Beckets. Filthy half bloods."

As much as Freya wanted to wipe that filthy smug of his face, she only smiled. "You must be a Malfoy. At least my family name isn't tainted."

Malfoy's lip curled up in disgust. As if by some miracle, the elderly female professor who had said her name was McGonagall tapped Malfoy on the shoulder with a scroll of parchment. He smirked at Freya and shoved through the crowd to the back. "They're ready for you all."

All the students hesitantly began shuffling into the great hall. It didn't help that every single student and teacher were staring at them, as if they were sizing them up and staring into their very soul. There quite a few murmurs of awe in the crowd of newcomers. And even more whispers as the different houses tried to guess what first year would go where. Freya skimmed the tables and her eyes landed on the twins. Before she allowed anger to form, she looked away from the troublesome two and straight ahead. This time, her eyes landing on the old sorting hat sitting upon the stool. It began to sing it's legendary song, but Freya couldn't keep her attention on it. Instead, the ceiling above her caught her eye. She knew from reading Hogwarts, A History that the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside and to mimic the weather. Freya couldn't help but over hear the bushy haired girl in front of her tell a girl the exact same thing she was thinking about.

The sorting hat's song finally ended and the cheering and clapping broke Freya out of her daze. It seemed the sorting had begun. She couldn't repress the nerves bubbling up inside of her. It was as if butterflies were trapped in her belly. "Freya Becket."

She nervously made her way up to the stool. This was the moment she had only slightly dreaded. Looking over at her brother for some sort of relief, Freya gave him a worried smile. He shot her two thumbs up, in hopes that his little sister would get some reassurance. She sat on the stool, breathing deeply and slowly. It wouldn't do worrying herself half to death. Professor McGonagall placed the hat upon her head. Suddenly, it spoke up, but only to where Freya could hear.

"My, my, an inquisitive mind you have. You would do quite well in Ravenclaw. Though, I can see bravery in you. You doubt yourself too much. Your loyalty and compassion know no bounds. So much different than your brother. Hmmm- where to place you?" She could feel the hat moving about atop her head. "I know exactly where to put you. GRYFFINDOR!"

The immense joy Freya felt was tremendous. She was all smiles as she made her way to the Gryffindor table. She didn't even mind all the back slapping attention she was receiving.