the trial ; d.m

11

23rd November 2002

Geneva tries not to think about her conversation with Malfoy for as long as she can. She's not usually one to pry over embarrassing moments from her past— her entire crush on Malfoy having been one of them.

Yes. Yes, she did used to have a crush on him. She never knew why. Still doesn't know why. There was something about him. Something about the darkness which drew her in. The allure of his evil fascinated her. Appealed to the side of her which craved thrill, villainy, excitement.

But that was then.

She's grown up since. She's no longer the naive girl she once was. The one who let herself fall into traps laid out by evil. She knows how to suppress it now.

But it frustrates her that she should be concerning herself over something like this, especially now. Nevertheless, it's a discomfort she cannot ignore. Why should Malfoy even feel the need to bring up such a thing? It's not as if it matters anymore.

She does know why, of course. To get under her skin. To torture her in any way he can find that works.

It might hurt you to hear this, but you are completely unimportant to me. Good. A distorted relief floods through her every time she recollects these words. But they press upon her almost like an obsession. Replaying in her mind for no good reason. She doesn't know whether to feel glad or concerned for her safety because of this confession.

Every now and then she would get this feeling that something else was coming. Something much bigger than her which would overthrow and consume her. This perfect little life she had constructed for herself with Theodore seemed too false to last a lifetime. That's the kind of self sabotage her mind would force upon her.

She would screw it up. She'd always had the feeling she would, but was just waiting for it to come. And God knows how that would play out.

It worries her that her mind should connect these two occurrences together. As if Malfoy would become the cause. As if he's been waiting to ruin her life.

But as usual, whenever these thoughts arrive she brushes them off. Tells herself she's being irrational. Whatever childish vendetta Malfoy still quite obviously has over her is completely unimportant.

Since their conversation in the garden weeks prior, she hasn't spoken to him or even stayed in his presence for longer than necessary. Except for the occasional passing comment, she's started to forget he's even there. Although, she tends to spend a lot of her time away from the Manor recently. It's easier to avoid him that way. And for some reason she feels the need to avoid him.

While she's relaxing in the living room one evening, classic housewife style, Theodore waltzes in with a stack of mail in his hand. He's filing through them carefully, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he tends to do this when he concentrates.

He sits beside her on the settee and passes her an envelope addressed to the both of them, knowing Geneva likes to open their mail.

"Oh look at that," she says, pulling out a postcard with an artistic painting of The Andes on one side. She reads the writing on the other side and sees it's from Pansy and Blaise. "They say, thank you for the invite but we're on holiday. We hate to miss out on the fun. Lets all get together soon."

Ah, the annual Christmas soirée at Nott Manor. Theodore felt inclined to continue his parents tradition after they were imprisoned. An elegant gathering of the Wizarding world's finest and most respected individuals of upper class society.

"What a shame. The party won't be the same without them," Theodore sighs, taking the postcard from her and observing the painting on the back. "The Andes. Wow."

"Do you reckon they'll come back as one?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, suddenly seeming sterner.

"You know— engaged?" she nudges him, smiling.

"I don't know. What gives you that idea?"

"Well, it seems suited. They've been together for a while now and it seems favourable for Pansy. She was gushing over us when I saw her."

"Since when were you two best friends?" His tone is caustic. Subtly bitter.

She stares at him blankly, confused.

"We're not..."

"Right well, perhaps. We'll have to see, won't we."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," he smiles, sweetly and kisses her on the mouth, before gathering his mass pile of letters and exiting the room.

Geneva sighs, trying to figure out what happened in that exchange and where Theo's sudden urge of irritation arose from. He's always been strange when speaking about his old friends. Probably because of the pain that was caused during the time of their friendship. Geneva was never part of the loop, she just observed.

It was a complicated relationship, the one between Theodore and his friends. Because they had all been like family to each other. Once so close, then broken apart by the war and those horrors endured. Nothing lasts forever.

Although they were inseparable, their conflicting opinions surrounding Malfoy were to blame for the corruption of the familial bond they had always shared. Once Theo married Geneva, and they created this new life, he seemed to have distanced himself from everyone else who knew the version of him in school.

He's nothing if he isn't loyal. And his brotherly responsibility towards Malfoy has already been proven unbroken.