It seems that It's mostly a Harry Potter/Hetalia crossover season for my writing. I apologize about 'Breaking The Auld Alliance'. I swear I will finish it, but I'm not only having laptop problems, but creativity problems. I know what happens next and it will be finished soon enough. Swearzies.
Anyways in the mean time have some Genevieve x Arthur in strangers.
Somehow, she had ended up with his scarf many years ago, and for some reason she had kept it. Mailing it would have been the easiest path, however, after a quick letter, it made more sense to hand it back in person. The boy was a sweetheart really, and meeting him was one of the highlights of the tournament. Well, aside from winning the ordeal. It was a tricky year, but somehow Genevieve Bisonnette had become the Triwizard Champion from Beauxbatons.
A proud smile slipped onto her light pink lips at the thought. and her nails painted to look like the burnt pages of the book she had last read while cooking tightened their grip on the green and silver scarf. A Slytherin, although why she had had trouble seeing in the beginning of…this. Whatever it was now. Was it a relationship? She wasn't quite sure, but, it was certainly something more than the casual exchange of letters between friends with how furiously they responded whenever they were given the chance.
Oddly enough, whenever she thought about transferring schools (Which had happened a lot, surprisingly. ) the feeling that they would share a house had settled itself into the deepest recesses of her mind. His being there was strange though, from the others she'd met. It was hard to associate them with him, unless you saw him try to tolerate someone 'silly'. While he was still young he was a bit of a hardass most days. Especially when he happened to be reading.
Which, was when the young Frenchwoman had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him. Having the ability to sit wherever she desired and there was a free seat, Genevieve had daintily seated herself between a woman with long silver hair that she was definitely curious about, and a short fellow with a mop that could definitely be taken better care of. His eyebrows had only caught her attention when a scoff was heard from his direction, and she, being vaguely self-centered, believed it to be about her and the other girls (Whose name was 'Julchen'. Something German she believed.) conversation regarding hair and the by across the table who was staring at a brunette two tables away with longing. He seemed oblivious too it, and now, they were exchanging letters as well she recalled.
"Pardon?" She had asked, having to bite her tongue not to insult someone who could have done nothing too her. However when he had shushed her a second later and flipped the page over she couldn't help but be a little offended. "Well when I win I'll be sure not to remember your name," she had snubbed, looking at him in distaste as he finally averted his gaze from the book and was vaguely confused. "…When you win, what exactly?" The boy had asked, caterpillars narrowed-at least, they looked like caterpillars to her. "The Tournament, what else?" "Ah yes, the Tournament of fools." Of course that stung. "At least I stand a chance. Although I'm sure someone of your caliber would last, oh I don't know, five minutes?"
And as she dumped her goblet on him their meeting had come to a close ,and before he could even figure out what had happened the brunette was walking away with a laughing Julchen and an embarrassed Antonio following with an excuse about being late for something. Really, It was more likely she didn't want to be seen with him after the little episode. Not that they were friends to begin with, polar opposites. Although after that they had been talking a little more, mostly questions regarding the weather and quidditch, and of course, Gen and Julchen.
Nearly the rest of the visit she had tried avoiding the boy, and ignoring all his attempts to apologize. That is, until the beginning of the second challenge and the end of the first. It was snowing, at least, from her memory she assumed it was. That's how she had gotten the scarf. Of course the nerves had begun to get to her, and her normally long nails were nibbled nearly to the quip and she had decided it was weather for a walk outdoors. Just her uniform and a black coat on, she ventured outside and made her way towards the quidditch pitch-until someone was next to her. "Mind if I join you?" That slightly familiar voice asked, and, as she was in no mood to put up with it, she let out an annoyed groan.
An exasperated sigh was the echo of her noise of dissatisfaction, and he carefully stepped in front of her-trying his best to not invade her space too much. "Look, I'm sorry I called you a fool, but honestly, you didn't even get my name and I had to wait for yours to be called before I knew it." Arthur voice,holding his hands out as if his logic made sense. Pink was covering his face but whether it was because of the cold or his embarrassment at even having to apologize she was unsure. Before she responded to him, a shiver ran down her spine and she ended up placing her hands against her arms and rubbing. Mitts, of course. That would have been helpful.
The shiver had caught his attention and the boy took off his scarf and held it out-only for the sake of being a gentleman if anything. He'd argue until he was out of breath that that was the reason for it and of course he had no ulterior motive. That was poppycock. Genevieve had taken the scarf and held it gently, as she was now, two years later, and had put it on with little to no hesitation. It was chilly, and she had made a ridiculous mistake leaving the castle without proper clothing. After that they walked, and she learned his name. Arthur Kirkland, one of those in an older pureblood family. She herself was a pureblood as well, but from a less noticed family. Mostly because they'd lost track awhile back.
Their walk hadn't lasted too long, and when they'd parted he told her to keep it for the trip, as a good luck charm. Refusing wasn't something that crossed her mind, and she'd worn it the entire trip. Not even questioning it when he asked her to the Yule ball, and that night, she'd switched it out for something a little ore glamorous. Just a lighter, silver scarf to go with her strapless, dark violet dress that faded into black around her midsection, only to be flecked with swirls of silver that flickered as they were moved around the dancefloor. That night they had kissed, just hardly. It was a small peck on the lips that left them both blushing and a little confused as they parted and retired earlier on in the evening.
They were nearly inseparable from that point, although they didn't show it. Never touching, always keeping a bit of distance as she danced ahead of him, bouncing two steps most of the time even though she didn't need to to keep up with him. The Tournament was just a backdrop, a setting, and while they were together for it she had managed to win it on her own. It came to a close far too soon though, and the fact that they were to be parted after such a short amount of time was almost dreadful. Promising to write, they'd said goodbye, and she forgot to return the scarf until they were at the school and she was questioned about it by her roommate at the time. Darling girl really, working to be a healer now.
Which brings us to our beginning. A woman having matured from a young girl, standing on a platform in clothing far too glamorous for the area, holding a scarf with memories sewn into it's seems that had formed before it was even part of such an event. Her long brown hair now swept up into a bun, and her bangs hardly keeping out of her indigo eyes, which, in the right light, seemed a violet as dark as her dress the night they had danced and startled each other with how easy it was to fall into something as serious as it was make-believe. And, her lips still quirked in a smile that showed just how much this meant to her, and how long she'd been anticipating it.
"Hello Genevieve." The voice startled her, and she was shaken from her revelries of days gone by only to look up and around until she saw them-eyes as green as moss and hair as wild as a lions mane. Well, maybe more like a hyenas if anything. That small smile seemed to grow, and as she opened her arms and took a step forward she danced out of the way when he had gotten too close to achieving his goal. With a roll of his eyes he quirked one of his eyebrows at her childish behavior that he recalled from the year of the Tournament. Light laughter was what he received in response, and she allowed him to hug her.
It was almost bittersweet, and she was blinking back tears as if he was more to her than he actually was. "Hello Arthur," Genevieve answered as they separated, her hand reaching up to brush against his cheek as she glanced at his hair. Perhaps, they were a little hasty, because as she was about to tease him about his inability to comb his hair he pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I missed you, and my bloody scarf." Arthur answered, carefully taking it from her hands as she took the time to roll her eyes at him. "Coffee?" "Yes."
Also as an added note, should I make this a 3 part fic or just leave it as is? Input is greatly appreciated, and I apologize again.