Very Unexpecting PV Freya Thomas Reopened

The clouds flowed across the sky as a young girl crept beneath the sun's persevering gaze. The term had just begun, but Freya craved the solitude she had readjusted to since her first year at Hogwarts. At home, she was an only child in a tight-knit, secure family; while she enjoyed her company with her parents, they knew her well enough to give her the quiet she needed. At Hogwarts, however, peers were everywhere, encasing her personal space. Perhaps they didn't know better, but they also did not try to learn, and though it had only been mere hours since she had stepped off the Hogwarts Express, Freya was tired of it.

Scanning the grounds, Freya settled on a large willow overlooking the lake. While it was not the Thomas home, its limbs would wrap her in a hug comparable to her mother's: silent and steady. It was the antithesis of Hogwarts.

It was only yesterday that she gave her parents goodbye hugs. Freya was trying to resist counting how many weeks it was until the holidays, concentrating her attention instead on the limbs before her. Her right hand grasped spindly cylinders, etched with the memories of many children before her. Children like her: those who didn't feel they fit in and so badly wanted to go home.

When she reached her prime positioning, Freya gazed upon the smooth, clear lake. It was mysterious, yet the most straightforward part of Hogwarts: it did not attempt to conceal its secrets, while Hogwarts remained a mystery. Even its students did not make sense; none of them seemed to miss their homes, bewitched with the magical surroundings encasing them. Freya just did not understand.

Maybe she was the mystery. It seemed the only possible conclusion, with the rest of the school taking to their magical means, whereas the young girl felt outcast from wizarding society. Why was she here? Her parents forced her to return, yes, but what purpose did she, a girl who was perfectly happy to live a simple life, have in such an enigma?

An older girl approached the waters, seemingly unaware of the blue eyes watching her settle into the tall grass. Freya examined her contentedness, the way her body seemed relaxed despite the chaos of this world. How did she do it? How did she make sense of it all?

A feeling of compulsion engulfed her. Freya was lurking, waiting for the right moment, wanting to talk to her to see if she could make sense of how the girl did it. It seemed to be now; the girl wasn't moving much. What if someone came up and the moment passed?

Without hesitation, Freya carefully dislodged herself from within the tree's careful embrace and ventured downward, branches creaking slightly under her weight. When she reached the bottom, she anxiously cast her eyes downward; the reality of how much older the girl was much more pronounced when they were on equal ground. But it was too late to turn back now, so she asked, "May I sit with you? It just looks so...nice down here."

OOC: If it is not fine for Freya to be creeping on Bloom, let me know and I'll change it.

The wind whistled around her. The sound was so relaxing to hear. A part of Bloom wanted to see how the wind danced around her. But perhaps not seeing made her believe that everything was okay.

Only a couple days into the school year and it was too much to handle. There was so much to be expected upon her as a fourth year. Especially since she did not put any expectations on herself in the past couple of years, it was like she was starting from the beginning, except her load is heavier.

Bloom took a deep breath. She took her hands and placed them on the tall, thin grass below her. She clawed at the grass, feeling the dirt below it. Having a sense of touch brought her thoughts back to reality. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out. She continued, her chest that had begun to feel tight began to release its tension. She needed to feel content again like she was moments ago.

Breathe in... Breathe out...

As Bloom was focusing, little did she know that someone was approaching her. Their approach was quiet... Or at least it was to Bloom who was so focused on herself.

"May I sit with you? It just looks so...nice down here."

Bloom unlatched the grass and dirt below her and put her hands to her heart. "AH!", she squealed every so slightly at the sound of someone that was not her. Bloom's heart began to race at such a small event.

When her heart slowed, she looked at the girl. "Oh um, sure." She was not familiar to Bloom but she could tell that she was a fellow Ravenclaw.

"The views here are always nice. You can't beat them anywhere you are in the world," Bloom replied to the girl. "Oh, I'm Bloom Silverton," she introduced herself, raising her hand to the Ravenclaw. Bloom then looked at her hand and saw that there were still remnants of dirt from digging her hand in the grass. She took her hand back and wiped it on her skirt, cleaning whatever she could of the dirt. She then brought her hand back out to shake.

@Freya Thomas

Freya flinched at the girl's sudden jolt of surprise, stepping back and raising her hands to her face in protection. It wasn't that Freya actually thought the girl would do something; it was more that her body was telling her that she was wrong, this was all wrong, she had made a mistake in revealing herself. In addition, the "um" in the older girl's words made Freya's nerves peak. It truly was rare for Freya to approach someone at Hogwarts, especially when she felt so alone, because you never knew just what they were going to say. Maybe she hadn't meant sure, instead feeling trapped by the stranger who had come out of nowhere. It didn't matter that Freya was younger, some people just felt that they had to please others, no matter what.

Though her heart raced, none of these concerns had come to fruition yet, so Freya sat beside her, concertedly ensuring that there was enough space between them so that their knees would not touch. Fear does not go away immediately, simply stagnating slowly as people exhibited, more and more, that they would not engage with such a reality. Bloom, as the girl identified herself, seemed okay, but it would take time for Freya to be certain.

After accepting Bloom's handshake, then tugging mindlessly at the yellowing grass, Freya responded, "I'm Freya Thomas. Ravenclaw, second year. You seem older..." She furrowed her brow in response, pondering what else Bloom had said, and added as an afterthought, "Have you traveled much? You said...this is the best view you've seen. I really haven't been anywhere besides home and here. Dad and Granddad are busy with the business; running something's hard work, 'specially when it's pipes."

Her voice was light, airy; she would seem a bit absentminded as she continued to be lost in her thoughts. While the anxiety was not fully gone, her mind relaxed a bit as she thought about what her family was doing right now. Dad was probably fixing a leak at the neighbor's down the road; Granddad arranging the schedules of the workers and taking a smoke break, clapping Dad on the back as he always did when he returned to the office. They were only missing Freya...

Freya looked at her hands, wishing she could wrap her arms around her father. With a wistful glance, she gave a quick scan of Bloom, truly taking in the older girl's appearance: petite, with glistening eyes and rich brown hair. She was pretty, but not necessarily remarkable, as though she was a girl who was used to being in the background. In a lot of ways, she seemed put-together, something that rarely described Freya; yet jarringly, Bloom's hands had remnants of dirt. It now made sense why she had tried to wipe her hands on her skirt before shaking. Without thinking, Freya blurted, "Have you been digging?"

A wry smile flickered upon Freya's face as she asked the question, then hesitated and faltered. She hoped that Bloom wouldn't be too upset that Freya had highlighted what could be a possible weakness in her. Of course, Freya was obviously the last person who would judge dirtiness, but anxiety didn't always come to those logical conclusions.