Safe Havens
IT LOOKED LIKE the end of Freya and Will's friendship.
"No, I'm not okay. You never took Crookshanks attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, William!" Freya hissed the next morning on Sunday when she finally walked down into the common room where Will and Harry had been waiting, her eyes rimmed red after Harry had asked if she was okay.
Harry had thought Will would begin by apologizing, but to his horror, Will frowned up at Freya and said instead, "Freya, I know you're upset, but I was thinking about it last night and I just don't think Crookshanks ate Scabbers. Are you sure you checked under all the girl's beds?"
Freya's jaw dropped. "Are you seriously still defending that murderous cat?"
"He's not murderous!" said Will angrily, "You have no proof-"
"CAT HAIR ON MY BED!"
"Maybe they came from you when you were near Crookshanks!" said Will glaring, "You've been prejudiced on my cat since he landed on your head at the pet shop!"
"Well, actually, that was a rather bad start to the relationship," said Harry, attempting to keep things light. "And besides Will, all evidence does point to Crookshanks. Maybe you should apologize, we know you didn't ask Crookshanks to eat Scabbers but-"
"Of course." Will glared at him, standing up as he grabbed his books. "First the firebolt and now Scabbers. Everything is my fault, isn't it? You two just leave me alone, I have work to do without such annoying distractions."
He left Harry and Freya, Harry blinking in surprise and Freya's ears reddening in anger. Each was so angry with one other, Harry didn't know how they'd ever makeup.
"Come on, Fickle, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly later on. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly-one swallow-he probably didn't feel a thing."
"Fred!" said Colina, who had come over as well to comfort her friend, said indignantly.
"All he did was eat and sleep, Freya, you said it yourself," added George.
Freya put her chin in the palm of her hands as she looked down, her eyes dark.
The twins, Harry, and Colina exchanged a look.
"How about you just buy another rat at Hogsmeade, fickle?" suggested Fred cheerfully.
Freya shook her head angrily.
"None of you understand. He was fat and he was lazy and he did absolutely nothing except bite Goyle for Harry and me that one time, but I liked having him anyway because he was mine. When you saw him you knew inside your head that that was Freya's lazy old rat. Not 'that thing she got from one of the boys that used to be Bill's or 'that thing that used to be her Aunt Muriels and her mothers'. He belonged to me in a way he didn't belong to Percy and now he's gone." She looked at them all sourly, "I really appreciate it, but quit trying to make me feel better, okay? Scabbers died and I cared about that useless dumb rat, so I'm not supposed to be happy."
They left her alone for a bit after that as she didn't seem in a chattering mood. Harry followed the twins as they shook their heads.
"Weird," they both said.
"What is?" asked Harry as he polished his firebolt.
"Just that Fickle is sort of getting older, you know?" asked Fred looking bewildered, "It's weird, seeing it..."
Later on, in a last-ditch attempt to cheer up Freya, Harry persuaded her to come with him to Quidditch practice so that she could ride his firebolt after he finished. Freya frowned thoughtfully before giving a small smile, the first she'd given all day, and saying it was an obvious yes. Freya watched him throughout his whole practice, cheering on his more spectacular saves, and then volleyed over the stands to meet him in the middle afterward. Harry raised his brows as he watched her fly and when she came down, he nodded at her, "You're not bad on the broom."
"Yes, but I think I'd like to get better before I..." she trailed off, turning a bit pink. "Well, I'd like to get better."
Despite being curious, Harry didn't question what she was about to say. They had a fine time talking Quidditch as they headed back when halfway to the castle, Harry's heart stopped. He had seen two familiar gleaming eyes peering out at him in the darkness.
"What's the matter?" asked Freya, the smile wiped from her face when she saw Harry's expression.
Harry pointed. Freya quickly grabbed her wand from her pocket and muttered, "Lumos."
A beam of light fell across the grass, hit the bottom of the tree, and illuminated its branches; there, crouching among the budded leaves, was Crookshanks.
Freya's eyes flashed. "Get out of here, you stupid cat."
Crookshanks stared at Freya for a moment and his ears seemed to flatten just a bit before he turned away, vanishing with one swish of its long ginger tail.
"See? Even now, William can't keep an eye on that bloody cat. Probably washing away Scabbers with a couple of birds..." Freya trailed off as she glanced over at Harry, her scowl softening to a concerned frown. "Harry? Why'd you get scared?"
He blinked and felt a rush of heat cross his face as shame bubbled in his stomach. "I-I wasn't scared."
They were silent for a moment as they walked, and Harry thought it'd be the end of it.
Then-
"Harry, I'm gonna make fun of you a lot throughout your life. I'm going to make fun of you about your nerdy glasses-"
"They aren't ner-"
"And I'm gonna make fun of you about the fact that whenever anybody looks at your hair, they think you've forgotten to brush-"
"I brush it every morning, you know tha-"
"But Harry. If there's anything that scares you or worries you, genuinely, I swear I'll never laugh." she glanced over at him with raised brows, "On the contrary I'll be rather mad on your behalf and I'll fight it off for you."
There was a moment of silence as that sunk in.
"Unless it's bloody spiders." Freya shrugged, "Then you're on your own."
Laughter bubbled out of Harry's mouth and soon Freya was laughing too. As their laughter died down, he said, almost without thought, "I thought it was the grim in those bushes."
Freya blinked rapidly and then her jaw set. Reaching out she grabbed Harry's hand, startling him, as she began to pull him hurriedly through the grounds. "You look at nothing but the back of my head, you hear? Just look at me, Harry-we've got to get you back to the common room."
And just like that it was like all the panic that Harry had originally felt had left him and went to Freya, because with his hand in hers and his eyes staying on her as she hurried away to bring him to the more well-lit areas...
Well, it was like finally grasping that feeling he'd yearned for all those years in the cupboard under the stairs, when it was thundering outside and the Dursley's weren't home (or perhaps they were) and nowhere near Harry to give him comfort.
For with her with him, he felt safe.