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Genevieve hadn't realised to the fullest of extents as to how hers and Remus's fall out had impacted the whole dynamic of both her friend group, and her very own lifestyle, until she was sat in the Hogwarts Express on the way home. She had always sat with James, Sirius, Remus and Peter. Maybe she had sat with Marlene and Lily before, but the majority of the ride would have been spent with the boys. For the first time ever, she was sat in a compartment with someone other than them.
She suspected that Toby and Bradley were growing tired of her, as she had not only tagged along with them for the past few weeks, but now she was sat on the train ride home with them. They didn't show any signs of becoming annoyed with her constant presence, but she still felt that way as she had completely disrupted their usual routines.
It was clear that they could tell something was wrong with her from the quietness that had plagued her all morning. After watching her stare aimlessly at the identical trees outside for a while, Toby finally broke her out of her thought spiral.
"Genevieve," he said, "Why have you been playing a single player game of 'Who Can Be Quietest The Longest' for the majority of this train ride?"
Suddenly becoming a lot more alert of her surroundings, Genevieve looked at them in slight bewilderment, not fully comprehending the question. "Sorry, what?" She asked.
"You've been very quiet for a long time," Bradley kindly informed her, a worried look on his face. "Is it because of Remus?"
"No," Genevieve shook her head and frowned even though Remus had been one of the reasons why she was so quiet. "It's actually because of this." She picked up the last edition of The Daily Prophet that had been lying next to her since the start of the train ride and handed it to Toby. On the front cover was a picture of a blown up house residing on the outskirts of London.
"Where did you get this?" Bradley asked confusedly.
"The trolley lady was selling them. Turn to page eleven," she said.
Toby opened the paper to page eleven, just as instructed. He cleared his thought before reading aloud, "In the evening of the 19th December, Prudence and Richard Griffus, an old and influential couple who both held a talent for Potions and worked in the healing industry, were found dead in their home after an intruder broke in and murdered them. There house was found obliterated, and their dead bodies were found together, laying side by side. This attack was similar to reoccurring attacks on other families. The motive of this killer is widely suspected to be towards blood groups such as muggle-borns. These mass killings are thought to have all been under the same name, one that has not yet been revealed. Keep safe, and stay alert." With a wave of numbness taking over his body, Toby closed the paper and placed it down next to him. His throat had suddenly became too tight to speak.
"Why are people so... human," Bradley said, his eyes growing dim, "What makes some people think that they are above all others?"
"Prejudice. Greed. Power," Genevieve listed quietly. "There are so many reasons, all as bigoted as the next."
Bradley shook his head. "It makes me mad how some witches and wizards could use their magic to heal dying people, and yet they use them to do the killing," he said.
"I think the world could do with a couple more Bradley's," Genevieve said and tried her hardest to smile.
Seeing this, Toby's facial features softened understandingly. "You're muggle-born, aren't you?" When Genevieve nodded, he moved to sit next to her and wrapped an arm around her. "Gen, I promise that nothing will happen to you, ok?" Toby assured, his eyes boring deeply into hers. "It's just not going to happen. Not while I'm around, anyway."
Genevieve wanted to tell Toby not to make promises he couldn't keep, but instead she let the corner of her lips lift up gratefully and nodded. "Okay."
"And besides, I'm gay, so I suppose that the pureblood supremacists won't like that too much. That means we can both be fearful of our lives together!" he attempted to joke, a cocky grin tugging at his lips.
Blissfully unaware of what he had just said, Toby's amused smile stuck to his face. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, Genevieve would have laughed along with him, but little did Toby know, he had just outed himself to Bradley. She had known that Toby wasn't fully straight for a while, but to Bradley, this was the biggest bombshell that could have possibly been dropped for him, and now the truth was entering him sharply just like the shrapnel would.
When he saw Genevieve look at him with her eyes wide with shock, and her jaw hanging open, his smile slowly dropped. "Sorry, that was a tad insensitive."
Genevieve blinked. "Toby..." she began, but her sentence was left hanging and her eyesight drifted towards the boy across from them.
From the other side of the carriage, Bradley's expression was the perfect duplicate of Genevieve's. "You're gay?" He croaked out forcefully.
Realisation dawned upon Toby like the heavy mist that settled on a cold winters morning. His face paled.
"Are you?" Bradley asked again, observing Toby with wide eyes.
Realising that she should give the two some space, Genevieve stood from her seat and shrugged the cardigan on her lap over her shoulders. "I'm going to see if I can find Lily. I think she has my... potions book," she lied through her teeth and inched towards the door, not that they were listening. After sliding the compartment door open and then shutting it behind her, she took in a deep breath in and then out.
Making her way down the corridor, Genevieve felt the effects of sleepiness take over her quickly. The train ride from Scotland to Kings Cross Station was lengthy, and despite sleeping well the night before, she felt more exhausted than she had ever been in her entire life. As her vision became doubled, Genevieve rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and hoped that she hadn't smudged her mascara. While doing this, Genevieve had stupidly carried on walking, and in the process she had bumped into someones stone-like body.
Genevieve was about to apologise profusely until she realised who it was. Looking down at her, Rosier's resting sneer on his lips twisted into a belittling smirk. "Ah, it's always a pleasure to see you, Gorgeous," he said.
Genevieve's nose scrunched up the name as if it were laced with poised. "I really wish I could say the same, but alas..."
Rosier tittered and tilted his head to the side disappointedly. "Insulting me already?" he queried. "We haven't even got to the pleasantries yet."
Genevieve didn't want to stick around for pleasantries with Rosier, of all people. Having a heart-to-heart with one of the people she hated most in the world was completely off the table. In fact, there wasn't even a table for the idea to be offered on. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Goodbye, Rosier," she said tonelessly and turned to walk back down the corridor, but the Slytherin harshly caught hold of her upper arm to stop her from going anywhere.
He looked her up and down, and then whetted his lips. "I feel like we haven't spoken to each other that much this year. Nor last year, for that matter," confessed Rosier, his eyes flickering with fake sadness. "I've began to miss our little conversations."
"I wouldn't call a spat a conversation. And trust me, you leaving me alone was a blessing." She turned to leave,
Rosier's jaw clenched with irritation. At the same time, his grip on Genevieve's arm became more harsh, his nails digging into her skin. She didn't wince despite how it sent a searing pain through her upper arm. She leered at his hand on her skin, and then looked back up at him with a glower cast upon her face. "Let go of me," she demanded threateningly.
Rosier ignored her command. "Did you see that article in The Daily Prophet?" He asked, nonchalant. "Page eleven, I do believe so." When he didn't receive a reply, Rosier made a noise of rememberance and snapped his fingers. "Oh, that's right. It must have been terrifying for you to read considering your blood status."
Genevieve attempted to tug her arm away from his grasp, but instead of him letting go, he only pulled her closer towards him with one painful tug. He inched his mouth further to her ear. "I'de be more careful if I were you," Rosier said lowly, trying his best to provoke her, "You can smell your dirty blood from a mile away."
"Unless you want to me to hex your arm off, I suggest you take your hands off her."
Relief washed over Genevieve. She had never been so happy in all her life to hear Sirius's voice. Genevieve watched as Rosier's dark eyes drifted tediously over her shoulder. He sighed. "It looks like our conversation has been cut short," he stated dryly and dropped her arm. "The blood traitor seems very vexed."
"Call him that again, and it won't be him hexing you arm off," she snapped. A hand snaked it's way around her waist, and after initially flinching at the touch, she eased into it knowing it was Sirius. Her green eyes blared with animosity as she exchanged Rosier one last glare before walking back down the way she had came with Sirius.
"What did that git want?" Sirius asked quietly as they walked out of listening distance from Rosier.
"Have you seen The Daily Prophet?" Sirius nodded. "Apparently you can smell my dirty blood from a mile away," she laughed mockingly.
With a tense jaw, Sirius span on his heel and made a beeline to where most of the Slytherins would be. "I'll kill him," he vowed gravely, eyes dark with rage.
Genevieve shook her head, already caught up with him. "No, you won't," she said, "Because if you kill him, then what makes you any better than him? You would be the one with blood on your hands, and he would be the one in a ditch."
"It would be worth it."
She shook her head again. "No, it wouldn't."
Memories from the night of Sirius's disownment flooded back to them both. How Genevieve had swore to murder Sirius's mother, and how he had reminded her what type of person she would be if she did.
Sirius averted his steel gaze from the end of the corridor to her. His eyes softened. "You're right," he stated, "Better people to kill. And even then, I don't have the guts to kill someone." He took a hold of her hand and started dragging her down the corridor. "You're coming with me."
"Where are we going?"
"To our compartment."
Genevieve's brows furrowed. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll get back to Toby and Bradley, or I can go find Lily."
Sirius let out a long, agitated huff and rolled his eyes. "But it's our compartment for a reason. Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Gingy and Wormtail claimed that compartment. You always sit with us, it's not changing because of some little spat that's getting for too pathetic for my liking."
Soon enough, Sirius slid open a door at the back of the train, and inside the compartment sat James, Remus and Peter. At the sound of the door rattling, everyone looked up at them. While elated beams painted themselves across James and Peters face, Remus's face became blank of all emotion.
Genevieve's face dropped slightly at the sight of Remus shifting in his seat next to Peter, and then moving to leave. Sirius, however, was far from saddened over Remus's attempt to leave. "Don't you dare," he warned, stepping in front of the compartment entry and exit. "I'm done with this argument. I'm tired of you acting like a child," he pointed at Remus, "And I'm tired of you sulking all the time," he pointed at Genevieve. "What you two are doing is effecting all of us, you got that? Prongs, Wormtail and I have worn ourselves out thick trying to please the both of you." He took in a deep breath. "So we're all going to sit here like friends do, and at least all pretend to get along with each other."
Sirius got his wish. Both Genevieve and Remus stayed in the compartment with the rest of the three boys, but it didn't feel natural at all. There was an awkwardness in the air that lasted the rest of the train ride, and although all of them pretended not to notice it, they did.
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