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Genevieve had never been more excited to go back home. She missed her family and their stupid yet loveable quirks. She missed her Mum scolding her for not brushing her hair or for dressing abnormally. She missed her Dad randomly coming into her room with hot chocolate. She even missed Anna stealing her school tie and pretending to use it as a lasso.
All term anxiety had been slowly gnawing away at her, sinking it's teeth deep into her flesh yet never making any other move. It was almost as if the anxiety applied pressure just to haunt her. She had been yearning to make sure her family was safe for herself. Mary reassured her in every letter she sent that they were fine and she had detected no signs of trouble, but a sickness named uncertainty still followed her everywhere.
That's if she wasn't the sickness, endangering her family by just going back home.
"This is the last time we'll be going home for Christmas," Peter said as they reached their compartment at the back of the train. "Have you guys thought about that?"
"Thanks Wormtail," Sirius muttered, hauling his suitcase onto the shelf above. "That's one extra thing to worry about."
"The very last time," the small boy carried on. "It's scary, when you think about it."
"That's why I don't think about it," Sirius retorted, slamming himself down on the seats. "Nothing can hurt me if I don't let it."
"You know, accepting we'll actually have to leave soon now is better than accepting it later," told Remus. He was a lot slower than usual and more tired, but he still insisted on carrying his own luggage. The full moon was in a week. None of them would be surprised if he got a headache on the journey.
"Ah, yes," Sirius nodded, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knee. "But you see, Moony, there's this tiny thing in the back of my mind called 'a voice of reason', and if I push it down far enough I can avoid dealing with things in a logical way."
Genevieve frowned and leant into James. "How is he going to survive when we leave Hogwarts?" she murmured.
"He isn't," answered James.
"I'm happy to be going home," Remus said. "I won't be at school while it's the full moon - I can go straight back home and spend Christmas day there instead of in a sterilised-smelling hospital wing for once."
"Are you sure you don't want us to come over while you're, like, wolfing out?" Genevieve asked, seriously. "You know it's better when we're there."
Remus had been protesting against them coming to this transformation since the last one, but Genevieve was right — he was better when they were around. He didn't tear into his skin as much or decide to wreck whatever was around him. The truth was that he didn't want to inconvenience them or their families. "It's fine, honestly," he insisted. "You should enjoy Christmas."
"But so should you," tried Peter.
"And I will," he promised. "Solemnly swear it."
Nobody believed him, but they didn't press him much further as they knew that Remus was tired. They exchanged a look instead, one that said they weren't going to drop the subject. Remus wasn't an idiot — he saw it but didn't mention it.
Peter's eyebrows shot up as he remembered something. "I need to find the trolley lady before Marlene does," he announced, springing from his seat. "She took nearly all the good sweets last time and I was left with nothing."
"You bought half the cart, Worms," Genevieve reminded. "How was that being left with nothing?"
"If it's not the lot then it's nothing to me," replied Peter. "You guys want anything?" After they all replied no, he left the compartment with his pockets filled with jingling Galleons.
"Some people save for houses," Sirius started. "Some people donate to charity. Wormtail likes to spend his money on food."
"Nothing wrong with that," James said. "There are worse things he could spend it on... he could buy Holyhead Harpies merchandise." He gratefully accepted the elbow Genevieve sent to his stomach.
"You There's nothing wrong with the Holyhead Harpies," Genevieve protested. "You're just angry because they beat Puddlemere."
"They didn't beat Puddlemere," James said, crossing his arms defensively. "Puddlemere let them win because they felt bad."
As Genevieve and James began to get into a serious debate about who was right and who was wrong, Remus sunk in his seat and closed his eyes. He rested his head on the back wall, trying to ignore the dull throbbing at the crown of his skull, and blocked out their argument as best he could.
"What'sa matter, Moons?" Sirius asked, kicking his foot gently.
"I'm alright, Padfoot," reassured Remus quietly, "don't worry about me."
"Liar," the silver-eyed boy replied. "What is it?"
A small breathe of air left Remus's mouth as he sighed. He opened his eyes and looked to Sirius. "Head hurts, body hurts, eyes hurt, was sick this morning so stomach hurts—"
"You're hungry?" Genevieve interrupted, abruptly disregarding her argument with James and turning to him with concern. Remus shook his head no and said he was fine, but she began to get up from her seat anyway.
Remus sat up straight. "Where are you going?" he asked, eyebrows pulled together.
She looked at him as if it was obvious. "To get you something to eat," replied Genevieve.
A tired smile hovered around the edges of his lips at her concern. "I'm fine, Gen," he said, kindly. "Peter will be back with half the trolley in a moment, anyway."
"I'll go find him, then," she said. "He'll probably need help carry it all back." Before Remus could say anything back, Genevieve was already out of the compartment door and making her way through the corridor.
It didn't take long for her to find Peter. His back was turned to her as he talked to someone. Even from his back profile, she could tell it was him from his short height and messy blond hair.
As Genevieve got closer, she became aware of the hushed tones he and the other person were speaking in. It was as if they were exchanging secrets. It took a moment before the person who he was talking to came into view. She couldn't fight away a scowl as she realised it was Rosier.
"Peter?" she said, her pace quickening slightly as she made her way towards the boy.
Peter jumped at his name and turned to her, his eyes wide as if he had been caught doing something bad. "Genevieve!" he squeaked, a nervous smile playing at his lips. He held no treats from the trolley lady in his hands.
She glanced over his shoulder at Rosier, who merely raised an eyebrow back. Her eyes returned to Peter. "You alright?" she asked, lowly.
"He's fine," Rosier replied, sounding bored.
She glowered at him. "I didn't ask you."
"Don't start, Gen," Peter murmured in her ear, glancing skeptically between the pair. It sounded more like a warning than a plea.
"I'd listen to your friend," Rosier told her. "It would be a shame for something to happen to you while you're waiting to go home... see the family..."
Biting back a harsh insult, Genevieve grabbed Peter harshly by the shoulder and swivelled him around, walking him back towards their compartment. She heard Rosier offer a Merry Christmas to them, but neither of them replied. The cynical, sing-song voice he said it in made them aware that he couldn't care less.
Genevieve waited until her and Peter were back in their original carriage before she turned to him. "I should have hit him," she said, her voice barely containing its anger.
"Are you Sirius, or Genevieve?" Peter said, laughing nervously.
"I hate him," she said, ignoring his joke. Her eyes were still narrowed. "I hate him more than anything."
"You can tell," Peter responded.
"Did he try anything?" Peter realised from the protective look on Genevieve's face that she wasn't going to let him avoid this question.
"No," he answered, cautiously and slowly. He looked to the ceiling. "He was just... I don't know. He was essentially telling me to buckle up, or something." His eyes went back to her. "He didn't say anything to me that he would say to you, put it that way."
"I can't decide if it's sexism or prejudice," Genevieve muttered to herself. She eyed Peter up once more, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. "Is my face red?" she asked, scared it was still blotchy with rage.
"No," Peter answered. "Mine?" He was scared it was out of embarrassment.
"Only in your cheeks, but that's normal," she said, and then slid the compartment door open.
Everyone's eyes turned to them, taking in Peter and Genevieve's face. They must have put on a good act at pretending nothing happened because nobody bothered to question them. They only frowned in confusion at seeing the pair empty handed.
"Where are all the sweets?" James asked, a knot forming in his brow. He had been looking forward to their sugar-crazed buffet.
"Sold out," Peter sulked. "Some Slytherins bought the whole cart." He was strangely good at spinning a lie.
"I'm sorry," Genevieve said to Remus, taking her place next to him. "I know you're hungry."
"It's not good that you worry about me more than yourself," Remus critiqued, a faint smile on his face. "It's flattering, but still."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you don't want me to? "
"I never said that," he replied, a little too firm. She tried to hide the surprised look that spread across her face. A shy smile tugged at Remus's lips and his gaze went to a loose thread on his jumper. "I sound very eager, don't I?" he murmured, a slight laugh in his voice.
"Very," Sirius answered.
Genevieve shot him a glare, receiving a wide grin in response. She went back to Remus. "You do, but I don't mind," she said, tucking herself into his side. He brought an arm around her shoulder, closing the gap between them. "I like playing nurse."
The rest of the ride back to London was full of of havoc in their tiny compartment. It was a wonder they managed to make it back in one piece.
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