It was getting rather old, how often Gene found herself unable to sleep. Only this time, she'd managed a good hour or so, before she was woken by a nightmare, but not quite. It was more like a memory, just as before.
She sat up in her makeshift bed, careful not to wake Hermione beside her as she shifted in her sleep. Gene exhaled, making her way downstairs to the kitchen, her wrists still sore as she gripped the banister, making her way downstairs as quiet as she could manage.
"Gene." Harry said from the door, almost in surprise.
Her head shot up as she passed the final step, her eyes narrowing at him; with his backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed as though he was ready to go. To make matters worse, he had her jacket in his hand.
"Harry–" her voice had a tone of warning to it, feeling as though this might have been pre-planned, "We promised." she said quietly, taking the jacket in her arms.
"I know." he said.
His hand turned the handle and opened the door, walking outside and Gene huffed, realising she had no choice but to follow him. She shrugged the jacket on, arms wrapped around herself as she winced at the slight breeze the night gave them.
She followed him out, narrowing her eyes at his figure as they walked onto the path in the reeds, hoping she could talk him down before they reached the end. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard the footsteps that followed them all the way outside.
"Going somewhere?" Ron's voice pulled them both to a stop.
Gene reluctantly turned to face him, finding that he did not look impressed. Harry hesitated, standing very still in his place as though he had no intention of turning back. It made Gene uneasy, until he finally did turn around, a stern expression formed on his face.
"We have to start searching for the Horcruxes." he said, "It's our only chance. And the longer we wait, the stronger he gets."
Ron stared at Harry and Harry only, barely looking Gene in the eyes at all, to her annoyance, and he remained calm and poised through it all. It was actually quite alarming.
"Tonight's not the night, mate. You'd only be doing him a favour." he returned calmly.
Harry stared back at Ron, almost incensed by his common sense, and Gene could feel it radiating from him. Finally, with a repressed sigh, the backpack dropped from his shoulder to the ground, and he turned away for a moment. Gene watched on, swallowing hard as Ron avoided her stare, but he took the backpack from the grass and brought it over his shoulder instead.
Gene was left feeling like a child that had just been scolded as she watched Harry walk ahead with Ron, trailing behind as they talked amongst themselves. Eventually, Harry walked back upstairs, taking his backpack with him to hide any signs of his attempted departure to avoid questions from Mrs. Weasley, while Gene shrugged off her coat, still feeling a presence behind her.
Ron stood a few steps away, watching as Gene wrung her wrists in discomfort. His brows were knitted together in concern as he watched her wince in pain.
"Were you just gonna leave without even saying goodbye?" he asked, closing the distance between them.
Ron took Gene's wrist in his hand to her surprise, his touch gentle and she felt goosebumps rise across her skin as he kept his eyes trained on her reddened skin.
"I was trying to stop him." Gene countered.
She couldn't help how quiet her voice had gotten, the nerves getting the best of her as Ron's thumb brushed over the indents of her wrist. They began to hurt a little less now, she found.
"And I wouldn't." she said, causing him to look up, both of them realising how little space was left between them, "I wouldn't leave you." she said, and he finally smiled.
*
Gene liked to think that she was a rather subtle individual. She was quite proud of it, actually. She had spent a majority of her time at Hogwarts sneaking around, doing everything she wasn't supposed to, and without getting caught. Usually.
And right now, she was very glad for the fact, as she watched Ron through the slightly ajar door, raising some silk fabric. It rose, pitching itself into a perfect wedding marquee and it trembled wondrously in the morning breeze. But Gene still found her eyes landing on Ron, and they were yet to leave him.
He wore half of his suit already, his sleeves rolled up due to the warm day, proving to be a good omen for the wedding already. His arm was outstretched, the muscle in his bicep more prominent as he took his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. Gene swallowed hard at the sight, drinking in it in like a glass of water on a hot day, such as this one.
That must have been it, Gene thought. It was the heat that had her clearing her throat; composing herself as she fanned herself with the eyeshadow palette in her hand, standing a little straighter. She reminded herself of why she had come downstairs to begin with, looking for Ginny to help her with her makeup.
"I'm sure he'll turn around soon." George murmured.
Gene spun on her heel in surprise, hitting her back against the counter and she winced, though it was nothing in comparison to the embarrassment she was feeling right now. She could barely look him in the eyes, clearing her throat as she attempted to compose herself.
"I don't know what you're talking about." she countered, narrowing her eyes at him. She began to walk through the house, ducking under a streamer as George trailed behind her, brushing his teeth.
"Oh, sure you do, kid." he returned, his words teasing as they entered the kitchen.
Gene went to pour him a cup of tea before pouring herself a coffee, hoping she could find the energy to be able to put up with George's antics for the rest of the day. She grimaced as George removed his toothbrush from the corner of his mouth and placed it into the hole where his ear should have been.
Gene opened her mouth to say something, until she followed the nod of his head, turning to find Harry and Ginny mid-kiss. The hint of a smile pulled at her lips, leaning against the stovetop beside George, both taking a sip of their hot beverages to hide their smiles.
They pulled apart now, Ginny finally catching sight of Gene and George watching them with mischievous smiles. Ginny glared at Gene, her cheeks flushing a deep scarlet, before quickly leaving the room. Harry wheeled around, swallowing hard as his eyes darted between Gene and George, who both winked at him at the same time, without even realising.
"Morning." they said simultaneously.
That had surprised even themselves as they looked at one another in shock, with Harry shivering at the display. George left the kitchen soon after and Gene went to follow wherever Ginny had gone to with a half-hearted apology, until a new set of footsteps entered the kitchen behind her, one she didn't recognise.
Gene turned to find the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour in the doorway, with Ron entering behind him, looking as though he was in trouble, for some reason.
Hermione joined them downstairs in time as the Minister eyed the four of them with thinly-veiled contempt. Gene drew her robe closer around herself, swallowing hard under the Minister's stare before he gestured for them to sit.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Minister?" Harry said.
"I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Potter." he replied, sitting before them as they went to huddle on the small sofa, Gene taking a seat at the arm as Ron's arm rested on it, just behind her figure.
Scrimgeour pitched a deep red cloth bag onto the table before them, Gene regarding it curiously as she glanced at the others. He reached into his cloak, removing a worn piece of parchment that hovered in the air, unfolding itself as he began to read from it.
"Herein is set forth the last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." he said, causing the four to look at one another, "First, to Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, a device of my own making, in the hope that when things seem most dark– it will show him the light."
He removed a small silver object from the folds of the red cloth and offered it to Ron who took it, bewildered.
"Dumbledore left this? For me? Brilliant." he said, glancing over it, "Er- what is it?"
He asked before answering his own question. With the click of a small button on the side, all sources of light in the room immediately rushed into the contraption, leaving the room lit by the sunlight that passed the windows. He clicked it again, sending the balls of light flying back to the lamps.
"Wicked." he smiled softly.
"To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive."
He reached into a large leather briefcase now, retrieving a small book. It's binding stained and slightly damaged, the book clearly having seen better days, before he handed it to Hermione.
"Mum used to read me those! The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump–" Ron smiled to himself, while the three looked at him blankly. "Oh, come on! Babbity Rabbity?"
Ron looked up at Gene who mustered a small smile, shaking her head a little, while Scrimgeour eyed Ron with mild annoyance, before continuing:
"To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill."
He held the Snitch in a grey handkerchief, hand outstretched to Harry who took it, a small smile pulling at his lips as the golden orb glimmered in his palm.
Scrimgeour was silent now, watching the group with narrowed eyes and Gene sat quietly out of fear of sounding entitled, yet still a little surprised that he hadn't anything for her.
"That's it, then?" she asked, with Scrimgeour's unyielding eyes settling on her now.
"Not quite." he said, "To Genevieve Arcturus Fiordalis, Dumbledore leaves you this: The Sword of Godric Gryffindor."
Gene's lips parted in shock, her brows pulling together in a slight frown. She had used it once, in some magical turn of events, despite the fact that only a true Gryffindor could wield the sword. It astonished Dumbledore five years ago, as much as it did her. But even then, it was through sheer luck. It couldn't belong to her, not really.
"I am as confounded as you are, believe you me, Genevieve." he lifted an eyebrow in her direction, "Unfortunately, the Sword of Gryffindor was not Dumbledore's to give away. And as an important historical artefact, it belongs–"
"To Gene." Hermione cut him off, her brows furrowed as Gene glanced at her in surprise, "It belongs to Gene. It came to her when she most needed it in the Chamber of Secrets." she argued on Gene's behalf.
"The sword may present itself to any worthy being, Miss Granger. That does not make it that wizard's property." he narrowed his eyes at her, then Gene in turn, "And in any event, the current whereabouts of the sword are unknown." Gene's head shot up at this.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"The sword is missing." and before Gene could pursue the fact, he stood up, curling the floating will in his hand before taking his briefcase in his hand.
"I don't know what you're up to, Miss Fiordalis and Mr. Potter, but you can't fight this war on your own."