A/N: Essentially, what you recognize belongs to the goddess that is J.K. Rowling, and what you don't belongs to insignificant little me.
•~0~•
Harry, George, and Fred had been given lifetime bans from Quidditch, courtesy of Umbridge, who had used her status as High Inquisitor to pass another decree, allowing her to overrun McGonagall.
"This is outrageous," Genevieve muttered. "She can't take everything!"
"I wouldn't try to find out," George said glumly.
Quidditch had been a huge factor in the twins' return to Hogwarts for their final year at all. And now that it had been taken away, they were often more subdued than usual.
Hagrid, meanwhile, had returned from his mission, though, from what Genevieve saw, it wasn't without harm done to him. He looked as though someone had ground him to a pulp, and he wouldn't tell Genevieve, nor the others, what had made him so. Harry, Ron, and Hermione informed her about his mostly unsuccessful mission to persuade the giants, and about Umbridge's inspection of him. It hadn't gone well.
Genevieve was also infinitely busier, what with her and the prefects having to help with Christmas decorations (which included struggling against Peeves's attempts to strangle them all), supervising the younger students during breaks — now inside, due to winter being in full swing — (they insulted and disobeyed them at every turn), and the absolute displeasure of stalking through the halls with Filch (whose paranoia had, for some unknown reason, skyrocketed recently). Genevieve barely had time to do her homework; she even had to cut down on visits with Myrtle (which had caused quite possibly the most severe flooding to date).
Luckily, the Christmas holidays were coming soon, and Genevieve and her father had been invited to spend the break at the Burrow, which they had graciously accepted.
The last D.A. meeting had passed before she knew it, and Genevieve went to sleep that night exhausted, having been frozen multiple times by the sniggering twins, who'd managed to catch her off-guard.
•~0~•
When Genevieve awoke the next morning, the twins, Ginny, Ron, and Harry were gone. She and Hermione were left worrying until Dumbledore came and told them what had happened.
Mr. Weasley had been attacked. Harry had seen what had happened through a vision in his sleep and they were able to save him in time. Everyone was with Sirius now. Genevieve's father was already aware of the situation and staying there as well.
"When're we going to be able to go?" Genevieve asked.
"You will have to wait until term officially ends," Dumbledore told them firmly.
They nodded tensely. Umbridge was practically bursting with anger when she found out the lot of them had escaped early. Her rage didn't subside even when Dumbledore informed her that Mr. Weasley was in St. Mungo's, and that the missing students had his permission to visit.
They waited out the term anxiously, and boarded the Knight Bus on the way to Grimmauld Place at the first possible minute. The ride was jerky, to say the least, and Genevieve was more than glad to stumble off at the end of it.
Upon arrival, they learned of Harry's isolation and of what the others had heard in St. Mungo's. Apparently Harry'd seen Mr. Weasley's attack from the snake's point of view and had since shut himself off and refused to speak to any of them.
Hermione went up and convinced him to come down to where Genevieve, Ron, and Ginny waited for them, sitting on Ron's bed.
"We came on the Knight Bus," Hermione explained. "Dumbledore told us what had happened first thing yesterday morning, but we had to wait for term to officially end before setting off. Umbridge is already livid that you lot disappeared right under her nose, even though Dumbledore told her Mr. Weasley was in St. Mungo's, and he'd given you all permission to visit. So . . . How're you feeling?"
"Fine," Harry replied harshly.
"Oh, don't lie, Harry. Ron and Ginny say you've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's."
"They do, do they?"
"Don't blame them for your behavior," Genevieve said sharply.
Harry continued to glower at them.
"Well, you have!" Ginny said. "And you won't look at any of us!"
"It's you lot who won't look at me!"
Hermione and Genevieve couldn't keep from smirking a bit. "Well, maybe you're taking it in turns . . ." Genevieve began.
". . . and you keep missing each other," Hermione finished.
"Very funny," Harry snarled.
"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood. Look, the others have told us what you overheard last night in the Extendable Ears — "
"Yeah? All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it — "
"Why don't you stop biting our heads off and listen to what we have to say?" Genevieve said impatiently.
"We wanted to talk to you, Harry," Ginny said, frustrated, "but as you've been hiding ever since we got back — "
"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," he said irritably.
"Well, that was a bit stupid of you," Ginny said, almost shaking with anger, "seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."
"I forgot," Harry said sheepishly.
"Lucky you."
"I'm sorry," he said with sincerity. "So . . . so do you think I'm being possessed, then?"
"Well, can you remember everything you've been doing? Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?"
"No," Harry said after some thought.
"Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you. When he did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doing for hours at a time. I'd find myself somewhere and not know how I got there."
Harry seemed reluctant to hope. "That dream I had about your dad and the snake, though — "
"Harry, you've had those dreams before," Hermione reminded him. "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."
"That was different." Harry shook his head. "I was inside that snake. It was like I was the snake . . . What if Voldemort somehow transported me to London — ?"
"That is about the most rubbish idea I've heard to date," Genevieve said. "And I'm best mates with the Weasley twins and Moaning Myrtle."
"One day," Hermione continued, "you'll read Hogwarts, A History, and perhaps that will remind you that you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."
"You didn't leave your bed, mate," Ron assured him. "I saw you thrashing around in your sleep about a minute before we could wake you up . . ."
This seemed to calm him.
•~0~•
Sirius, to Genevieve's relief, was much happier now that the house was full and Christmas on the way. They spent nearly all their cleaning and decorating the house so that one couldn't possibly compare it to sullen and foreboding house that Genevieve had first seen that summer.
On Christmas morning, as had become normal Christmas procedure, Genevieve opened first the package that held her newest Weasley jumper, a brilliant cerulean.
From Charlie she had received yet another dragon sculpture, this one a Welsh Green. She wished so much that she could send him a letter telling everything that had happened, but they couldn't risk interception. Instead, their letters were full of meaningless jokes and empty of news, empty of advice. Genevieve hated it.
From her father, Genevieve received her mother's favorite old Muggle book, Pride and Prejudice. She had her own copy, of course, but this one was dog-tagged, creased, worn, annotated. Allie had spilled her thoughts and feelings into these pages, and Genevieve cherished them.
Other gifts were more playful. Katie had sent her some more Sugar Quills; the twins had given her more Honeydukes chocolate and Dungbombs.
Sirius and Lupin had gifted her with a book about Magical Creatures and their origins. The bit she read through was fascinating.
In return, Genevieve sent Charlie some Honeydukes chocolate and a Muggle book about dragons he would probably find funny. To her father, she gave a warm scarf. Katie received a signed poster from her favorite Quidditch team. The twins each got Acid Pops and Fizzing Whizbees. To Sirius, Genevieve gave a variety of landscape pictures to make him feel like he was outside. To Lupin, Genevieve gave a new briefcase.
She walked down to Harry and Ron's room, entering just as the twins Apparated in.
"Why can't you two just walk like everybody else?" Genevieve asked, exasperated.
"Merry Christmas," George told them. "Don't go downstairs for a bit."
"Why not?" Ron asked.
"Mum's crying again," Fred answered. "Percy sent back his Christmas jumper."
"Without a note. Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything . . ."
"That absolute prat," Genevieve whispered.
"We tried to comfort her," Fred went on. "Told her Percy's nothing more than a pile of rat droppings —"
" — didn't work. So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer her up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon."
"What's that supposed to be anyway?" Fred inquired, indicating a rather crude painting. "Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes."
"It's Harry!" George exclaimed with glee, jabbing at the air around the back of the portrait. "Says so on the back!"
"Good likeness," Fred commented. Harry threw what looked like a diary at him, except it chanted, "If you've dotted the i's and crossed the t's then you may do whatever you please!"
•~0~•
They spent a moment wondering where Kreacher could be, as nobody'd seen him for a good while, but Sirius brushed it off, saying, "I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or something . . . Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died . . . But I mustn't get my hopes up . . ."
Fred, George, Genevieve, and Ron laughed, while Hermione scowled.
After lunch, the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Genevieve, accompanied by Moody, Lupin, and Genevieve's father, all clambered into a car Mundungus had "borrowed" and set off for St. Mungo's to visit Mr. Weasley.
•~0~•
Mr. Weasley greeted them a little too enthusiastically.
"Everything all right, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked almost suspiciously.
"Fine, fine," he said quickly. "You — er — haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"
"No," her voice was getting dangerous, "why?"
"Nothing, nothing. Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry — this is absolutely wonderful — "
Harry had given him fuse-wire and screwdrivers for Christmas. Genevieve fought to suppress a snort.
"Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said almost venomously, "you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."
"What?" Mr. Weasley said nervously. "No, no — it's nothing — it's — I — "
Mrs. Weasley stared daggers at him, and he gave in.
"Well — now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea . . . He's the trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in . . . um . . . complementary medicine . . . I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies . . . well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on — on Muggle wounds — "
"I don't reckon we want to stick around for the end of this," Genevieve whispered to Bill, who sat beside her.
He nodded. "I think I'm going to get myself a cup of tea," he announced quietly.
Genevieve and the twins gladly followed him out of the room.
•~0~•
When they got back to Grimmauld Place, Hermione told Genevieve in a hushed voice about their encounter with Neville, his parents, and his grandmother.
"That's just awful," Genevieve said bleakly. "I can't imagine. Worse than death, that is."
Death seemed to be a reminder these days. Soon, the fifth anniversary of her grandfather's death had arrived and Genevieve and her father left the house to visit his grave.
Genevieve left that day's crossword puzzle there, half finished.