Freya has long dark brown hair that gets sun bleached strands from the amount of time she spends out doors. Her hair spirals down her back in loose curls, sometimes growing frizzier with the humidity, while often being tight ringlets when exposed to water from swimming or heavy rain. She has tanned skin with a few freckles splashed across her shoulders and nose and dark coffee colored eyes that reflect an eager curiosity. Often times flowers will decorate her hair as they help her feel connected to nature.

Freya is an easy-going, healthy child. She has a tight-knit relationship with her family, and the Muggle community in her small town. None of them have wizarding blood, so she was raised with knowledge of magic but was homeschooled in her early childhood. She has always been drawn to nature, and finds herself trying to learn skills like knitting, painting, and playing musical instruments in her free time. Most would describe her as down-to-earth yet fiercely protective of her family and intolerable of disrespect to others regardless of age, status, or ability. Her politeness stems from tribal respect which was taught to her at an early age and she always keeps an open mind when meeting new people, but will also choose her friends carefully.

Freya is the only child to mother Hallie and Matiu Ngata. Her mother Hallie, was raised in Vasteras, Sweden and was a gifted witch who studied at the Durmstrang Institute. Upon her graduation, she became a translator having fluently practiced and learned a multitude of languages and decided to take her occupation elsewhere. She moved to a much warmer climate in the ever sunny New Zealand and began her studies of transcribing Polynesian books in a local library in the Northern Island.There, she met Matiu, a muggle-born Māori who lived with his iwi (tribe) the Ngāpuhi, a large northern tribe. A few months later, the two sealed their bond through a traditional Māori wedding and settled down inside the iwi’s borders in a small town called Kaikohe. A few years later the couple welcomed Freya to their life.

Although Matiu knew of his wife’s magical presence, he refused to involve her or his daughter in many tribal events or celebrations due to the fear of myths revolving around gods and goddesses drawing unwanted attention towards them. Had word gotten out that either of his kin had a semblance of magic, their lives would be flipped on their heads. Reluctantly, his participation in his iwi declined so that he could solely focus on raising his child with his wife in whatever way was best for her, whether she inherited her mother’s magical talents or not. Although his whānau (extended family) did show their support, the couple kept to themselves, raising Freya to be a well-loved child, albeit her lonely childhood.

Only a few months after Freya turned 10,she had her first instance of magic occur, and less than a week later a dukun, or mentor of sorts she had learned, visited her doorstep and explained what would be happening in the coming months. Her mother could not be more pleased to see her immerse herself in the way of the wizarding world, having heard murmurs of a school being located nearby, yet only now confirming it. Tenūsa, the Isle of Divination awaited her for schooling.

Every weekend Freya and her father travelled to Lake Ōmāpere, with it being less than a 20 minute drive from their residence. Many times, when her mother got caught up in work, they would spend daddy-daughter time pointing out the native wildlife and skipping pebbles across the water for hours on end until they got hungry or tired. But today, the winds were against them.

As soon as they were out of the car, Freya skipped off to a log, flipping it over to peer at the various beetles that scurried from view. Mud never bothered her and flipping over the log would make some birds very happy. Sorry little beetles! The girl stood back up from her crouched position and turned around to find her father, only to see him not in the spot he was previously. The winds went from a gentle gust to a fierce howl, spooking the girl as rain began to pour around her. “Pāpā?” (dad). Freya released her own howl into the wind as her hair danced around her face, frozen in place. Finding fear had taken over, she’d flop down on the turned over log, the mud squelching beneath her as she buried her head in the lap, her lilac dress damp from the downpour. The tall grass around her began to twist and turn, weaving together to form some sort of protection over the scared girl as small hiccuping sobs escaped her.

“Pēpē! I’m here!” (baby). The grass as quickly as it had woven, scattered apart and the girl looked up to see the greenery fade away to show the dark, angry sky again. Her eyes widened as her tear-streaked face got wiped by her father’s large calloused hands. “We are not telling your mother about this..” Her head tilted to the side as she got picked up and sat on his waist. Did he mean the grass or getting lost in the storm? Was she imagining things? Questions swam around in her head as she turned to look back at the grass as they got farther away. She wanted to talk to her mom when they got back, but for now, her eyelids felt heavy and she’d press her forehead to her dad’s warm side, clinging to him as small snores escaped her.