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A chill ran through the air, gentle hands reaching up to pull her coat a little tighter around herself. Blue eyes watched as students started to make their way back, while others still lingered on the streets to talk or in a store to buy things. Soon enough, Freya would have to join those that were taking their leave, not wanting to break the rules and end up reprimanded for being late. Generally, she followed said rules, knowing that somehow her mother would find out if she hadn't. Even if she would never be caught by the school, Moira Greengrass always had a way of either knowing, or pulling it from her. Freya found it hard to lie to the woman she now called mother, despite the one secret she had kept from her for hundreds of years.
For a moment, Freya's thoughts flickered to Alasdair. He was angry with her still and while she upheld her smile on the outside, the blonde was only feeling pain within. She had searched for him for a long time, or hoped he would return to his family so they could meet again. Every single day and night she had waited to see him again, but when they finally reunited, all he could do was hate her for the decision she made; for his wish she disregarded. But Freya never wanted to grow old and have children. Not if it meant she couldn't be with him. Not if it meant she had to live out sixty or so years, only to die without him. So yes, she took it upon herself to find a way to be changed and she didn't regret that decision. She only wished he could be happy to see her. But he couldn't even give her that much.
Lost in thought, Freya almost didn't hear the footsteps come up behind her, or feel the presence that now lingered there. She waited, wondering if they would go on their way, but it didn't seem as though that was the case. Without looking back, Freya's lips parted to speak. "Can I help you?" She asked softly, finally turning slightly to look up at the man that now held her gaze. He was older, and there was something about him that didn't feel right as soon as he was in view, but she remained calm. There was no threat as of now, so she waited for his answer.
The events which surrounded the place of witchcraft and wizardry had garnered attention from the entire magical world. First, there was the incident last year when many Hogwarts staff and students were forced to transform into their werewolf forms. At the time, Apollo hadn’t given it much thought at all. There were always issues surrounding different magical creatures all over the world. He distinctly remembered one time in Egypt when mermaids had infiltrated the Nile. It caused so much panic to the non-magical world that a few international magical monitoring organizations had to step in to make sure they weren’t all threatened too much. This was just another thing like that, and it didn’t concern Apollo.
As he walked through the town, children running all around him as they tried to squeeze in every bit of fun they could before they were forced to return to their stone wall prison of academia, Apollo noticed her sitting on a bench by herself. The blonde seemed to be entirely at peace, and, in most ways, entirely unremarkable. To the average person. However, Apollo was more than slightly above average, so he immediately recognized the girl as a vampire. A young one. One who had been turned relatively recently, if Apollo’s sense of smell was correct – and one who reeked of innocence and an almost lost feeling, despite what she was.
“No,” he told her calmly when she finally recognized his presence behind her. “But, I have a feeling I can help you, my child.” Apollo circled to the front of the bench and sat down beside her. Although he considered all creatures of his species to be his children, he rarely met any so young – in all senses of the word – and he certainly never got to understand their lives or help them as often as he would have liked. Maybe now was a chance for him to change that. “Mind telling me who you are?”