Chapter 2: Hogsmeade

"The truth is more of a stranger than fiction."
-Mark Twain (1835-1910)

It was nearing time for the first Hogsmeade weekend and Rosamund had successfully bullied Genevieve in accompanying her so that she could essentially stalk Oliver. Ever since she had spoken to Draco about Rosamund's family secrets, she had been thinking about her bank vault. She'd never opened it-not that her mother or father had ever given her the option to. She had the key, but her parents had both made it their mission to follow her into Gringott's every time they went to Diagon Alley to pick up her Hogwarts supplies.

She'd been told muggle-borns never had their own vaults unless they opened them themselves. How did she have one? Had someone opened it for her? What was in there? Was it a trap? She'd searched the library for more information on Gringott's and found very little she didn't already know. Her next step in investigating Gringott's was to see what she could find at Tomes and Scrolls, the only bookshop in Hogsmeade. And if that didn't work, she supposed she could always ask Dumbledore or even McGonagall.

However, she wasn't sure she felt comfortable inviting them to muck about in her business. She suspected that's what the outcome would be. She needed someone who would answer her questions and leave it at that. It wasn't until her next potions lesson that the idea struck her. She waited for all the other students to filter out of the classroom. Once the room was empty save for herself and Professor Snape, she gathered what courage she had in her and slowly approached him.

"Professor," she ventured cautiously, "I wondered if I might have a word with you."

Professor Snape turned to her with his usual annoyed expression. "Yes, Miss MacDuff?"

She felt herself begin to fidget under his cool gaze. "Well, it's somewhat personal and I didn't quite feel comfortable with the thought of going to the headmaster or Professor McGonagall."

"A personal matter," he asked, his gaze cooling further, "and what makes you think I will be able to help"What makes you think I'm even interested in helping you."

"Please, Professor," she pleaded finally, "I promise, I won't involve too many details, but I have to know! Is it possible for a muggle-born witch or wizard to have a Gringott's vault opened for them before having ever been introduced to the wizarding world?"

Professor Snape froze for barely a split second before studying her in a most penetrating way. "Am I to assume that you have a vault at Gringott's?"

She nodded. "I've never been in it. My parents won't allow it, but when we first went to Gringott's in order to convert some muggle money into gold, there was a key there. The goblins had it. They said they'd been instructed to give it to me once I came. They said they had had it for quite some time."

He was silent for a very long time before he responded. "Never in all my years have I heard of such a thing, Miss MacDuff. Either one of your parents is indeed a witch or wizard or the goblins of Gringott's have made a mistake." He leaned toward her, his expression still severe, "and the goblins of Gringott's do not make mistakes."

He turned his back to her and began to collect the vials of Draught of Living Death left to him by his students and Genevieve assumed that this was his way of dismissing her until-"Miss MacDuff, have you by any chance mentioned this to anyone else?"

"No, Professor, not since first year and they never brought it up with me, so I don't think they remember."

"Good. Do not mention it to anyone else," he instructed, "keep your key well hidden and do what you can to ensure that the existence of your vault remains hidden. Understand?"

"Professor-" He turned back to face her. "Do you understand, Miss MacDuff?"

She nodded and he turned away once more. Genevieve left the classroom with more questions than she had had before. It was obvious that Professor Snape either knew something she didn't, or, he had an inkling about why she would have a vault. It was clear to her that she was indeed going to have to venture into Hogsmeade.
Genevieve had been ignoring quite a bit about her past since first year-a past she didn't even know she had. It was clear that now, it was time to begin facing it head on and she was sure that for now, she would face it on her own. It was clear to her that Rosamund was not one she should confide in on this matter and Professor Snape's adamant stance on the matter seemed to solidify her opinion even further.

The day to journey to Hogsmeade came quickly and she was surprised to find she was actually quite nervous. The night before, she took inventory of all her school supplies and made a list of what she would need. She needed quite a bit more ink, a few new quills, quite a bit more parchment, and she was sure it wasn't too early at all to start on her Christmas shopping.

Genevieve made sure to bring with her as much money as she would need and set off with Rosamund, who was busy numbering off all the ways in which she and Oliver a perfect match for one another. The journey to Hogsmeade was very peaceful and the crispness in the air was refreshing. She found herself enjoying the outing much more than expected and decided that after visiting Tomes and Scrolls she would browse through all the shops in the village.

She managed to find several books centered on the goblins themselves, but they only seemed to mention Gringott's in passing. She replaced the books in their rightful places and trudged out of the store towards Scrivenshaft's to finish buying her school supplies. Once she was finished she headed for Honeyduke's where she stocked up on Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizbees, and a fair bit of peppermint icicles. Then she was off to Gladrags Wizardwear for a bit of browsing. Some of the clothes they had were downright awful. A couple hours later and she was ready to head back to the castle; Rosamund had wandered outside in search of Oliver quite some time ago and she didn't think she'd be seeing her any time soon. She pushed open the door to the shop and there was a loud "bang" and then a dull thud as the door shook and snow flew up into the air. Genevieve looked down and was horrified to find Oliver Wood laid out on the ground clutching his nose. He seemed to be in too much shock to move or do much of anything. "Oh, Merlin's Beard, Oliver, I am so sorry," she cried, dropping her bags and kneeling beside him, her face contorted in worry. "I should have been paying attention."

She began to rummage around in her bag before producing a box of tissue, too busy in her panicking to notice that Rosamund was standing outside the shop, staring at the pair in horror. Oliver managed to give her a curious look though it was rather pain filled. "Undetectable extension charm," she explained. "Would you like me to look at it? Or maybe I should find a teacher and have them take you to Madam Pomfrey? I've never caused anyone personal injury before."

"Well, you're rather good at it," he groaned, pulling his hand away to reveal a bit of blood. She grasped his chin in her hand and studied his face intently. "It's not broken, just bloodied."

But Oliver didn't seem to be listening. She frowned at him. "I really am sorry. I've had a bit on my mind recently and I guess it's been affecting the way I pay attention to my surroundings. I'm usually so much more aware." She stood up and offered him a hand. When, he continued to stare a bit longer she raised an eyebrow and he finally took her hand. He dusted snow off of himself and then stared at her a bit more. Genevieve was beginning to feel nervous with the way he was looking at her and she ran a hand through her hair to make sure there wasn't anything in it. Her face began to heat up. "Are-are you sure you don't need me to get a teacher? You're acting odd."

"I'm fine," he said quickly, clearing his throat.

"Good," she said slowly, gathering up her shopping bags, "Well, bye, Wood."

When he didn't respond, she turned and sauntered away, her face still burning in embarrassment. She'd physically assaulted Oliver Wood with a door. She'd bloodied the nose of the boy her best friend was in love with. Perfect.

All she could think to do now, would be to get to her dormitory and wrap the presents she had managed to buy. A large collection of silken She'd decided to buy her mother a scarf with the Gryffindor colors and a book on Quidditch for her father. He liked sports. It would be the first year she hadn't bought them purely muggle gifts for Christmas. Hopefully, these little tokens would help them adjust.

Just then she noticed Rosamund, who was frozen in place, looking as white as a sheet, her lips thin with rage. "You sodding cow," she seethed, her voice eerily calm. "You-you-I can't believe you did that!"

Genevieve felt all the color drain from her face as she shook her head frantically. "I didn't mean to, Rosamund! I didn't see him-"

"Because you're always too busy thinking about yourself," she spat. She was shaking uncontrollably now. Genevieve didn't think she had ever seen her friend look quite so outraged before. "Why can't you be normal? Why do you always have to say and do the most stupid things possible?!"

She was at a loss. Never had Rosamund spoken to her in such a way. Without another word, Rosamund stalked off toward The Three Brommsticks, effectively abandoning Genevieve. It stung deeply. She fought back tears as she resumed her shopping. She still needed to buy Draco and Rosamund presents.

She kicked a bunch of snow around as she walked, ignoring the tears burning her eyes that she refused to shed. Genevieve hated snow. Sure, it was pretty to look at when it first fell and it was pure, pristine, and white. But then it began to melt, and it turned to slush and it became muddy. And mud was not fun. Mud was dirty and sometimes it stained your clothes. Really, Genevieve enjoyed cleanliness and organization. It made it easier to find things and to manage one's possessions.

She shook herself out of her unpleasant thoughts and focused on the task at hand. What did she know about Draco? He was a pureblood, he hated Harry Potter, and...that was it. Hadn't he mentioned he was the Slytherin seeker this year?

It seemed a trip to Splintwitch's was in order. Hopefully, she still had enough galleons on her to buy him something worthwhile. When she reached the door and entered the shop, it struck her that she knew absolutely nothing about Quidditch. Browsing seemed to be her only option. Everything having to do directly with Quidditch, such as gear, broom cleaning kits, and the like seemed as though they were things Draco would already own.

She stared forlornly at a pair of dragonhide gloves. "I am a horrible friend," she muttered sadly. "How can I have been tutoring him for two bloody years and not know a thing about him?" She groaned inwardly. Maybe she could make him something? That seemed to be a good idea. She could knit him something. Like a new scarf or gloves. Or even a set. She would have to write home to her mother and ask her to find the perfect yarn. She let out a breath of relief at having finally decided on what to do, she nodded to herself decidedly and turned to leave only to find her path blocked by Oliver Wood, who was again staring at her in the same unnerving manner.

Genevieve looked around in a panic, hoping to find a quick escape, but the shop isles were choked with students. There was no way out. "Wood," she stammered out, wringing her hands together.

"I didn't know you were interested in Quidditch," he said and it sounded almost as if his voice wavered the tiniest bit. Genevieve bit her lip and kept her gaze firmly on the ground. "Not really. I don't know much about it. Just browsing in hopes of finding a suitable Christmas gift for a friend."

He nodded and stared at the floor as well. "You don't spend much time with anyone besides Rosamund."

She shrugged. She really didn't want to talk about her friend at that moment. Just thinking about her best friend made her want to cry, "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll be going back to the castle now."

"Wait, Genevieve," he called after her and she ignored him.

She stomped angrily the entire way to the castle ignoring the surprised look of the students she passed. The further she stomped, the more upset she became. Her first Hogsmeade visit was an absolute disaster.

She decided it was time to go back to her dormitory and begin to wrap all the presents and owl her mother. As she wrapped each present, she reflected critically on her two and a half years at Hogwarts and came to a rather startling conclusion: she, Genevieve Vanessa MacDuff was a very one-dimensional individual. She had no hobbies or interests. She had no real friends except for Rosamund and Draco-and she only really tutored Draco. The only thing she did besides go to class was tutor. She rarely had to study-so what exactly was she spending her time doing?

It was time to branch out. She'd spent all her time with Rosamund, letting Rosamund call all the shots and now she had no idea who she was as a person. It was time everyone found out who the real Genevieve MacDuff was, including Genevieve MacDuff. She was going to go to every Quidditch match, every Hogsmeade weekend, attend every Gryffindor common room party, sneak out late at least once.

"You've already done your Christmas shopping," asked an incredulous voice. Genevieve looked up to find Angelina Johnson standing in the middle of their dormitory looking at her. She nodded. "I didn't have that many people to buy for."

Angelina studied her for a moment. "How come you never talk to any of us except for Beckwith?"

Genevieve shrugged. "I don't know, really. It's a bit stupid of me. I don't mean to be so antisocial, I just-" she frowned as she tried to find the right words, "I don't really get on with most people. I'm more into studying and doing school work than talking about who's dating who, who's fighting with who, and so on. It all seems so pointless."

Angelina nodded in understanding as she smiled. "It does get a bit much for me, too. But Beckwith is one of the worst when it comes to that sort of thing. How do you stand it?"

"Honestly," Genevieve asked sheepishly, feeling herself blush, "I sort of just tune her out most days. I'd go mad if I didn't." The two giggled. Angelina bit her lip. "Why don't you come sit with us at lunch? I promise we don't always talk about Quidditch or boys."

"I'd like that," Genevieve nodded. Angelina grinned, her brown eyes sparkling. "Brilliant. I'll see you later then?"

Genevieve nodded again and smiled. It seemed as her decision to branch out was going to work out splendidly. She packed her wrapped presents in her trunk and locked it, then wrote to her mother, which was a harder task than expected.

Her mother never wanted to hear specifics about life at Hogwarts as much of it had to do with magic and she was quite against magic. Most of their correspondences consisted of reassuring her mother that she was indeed staying out of trouble and keeping her grades up. She hadn't even mentioned she tutored for fear of having to bring up what subjects she tutored her fellow classmates in. And she doubted telling her mother she was currently fighting with her best and only friend would bring comfort to her. Instead, she mentioned how she had gotten most of her Christmas shopping done, asked her mother to find her some suitable yarn with which to knit, and then went on to mention having made friends with one of her housemates and how she hoped it would enlarge her friend circle, even if it was by only one.

Once finished, she went down for lunch, plopping down next to Angelina unceremoniously. Everyone around Angelina stopped what they were doing to look at her in various states of surprise and confusion. Angelina didn't even bother to look up from her fish and chips. "Took you long enough, MacDuff."

"Sorry, had to write my mother and she's not the easiest person to write to," Genevieve said as she too chose a plate of fish and chips, "think I'd rather write to a death eater than her, honestly."

Angelina chuckled. "Suppose it's about like writing to my Dad. He's always on about how shifty boys are and how they only want one thing."

"My mother could care less about boys at this point. Since I have the social aptitude of a sea cucumber and the grace of a drunken goose, I think she's realized that traffic collisions are more worrisome than some boy ever sniffing about."

The brunette across from Angelina nearly spit out her pumpkin juice. Angelina grinned between the two. "Alicia Spinnet, this is Genevieve MacDuff-"

"I know who she is dimwit," Alicia grumbled, "we're in the same house." She focused a penetrating gaze on Genevieve. "You're not a repulsive cow like Beckwith, are you?"

She opened her mouth to reply when the brunette sitting on the other side of her cut in, sounding very offended on her behalf. "Of course she isn't! Merlin, Alicia, have some manners!"

"Oh, cram it, Bell," Alicia growled as she took a rather violent bite of a bright red apple, "you know I can't stand that slag and I was just making sure she isn't going to be another slag-"

"Way to make friends as usual, Spinnet. Insult new people mercilessly before you get to know them," Angelina deadpanned. Alicia sent her a sour look before turning to Genevieve. "Look, I hate Beckwith. She's loud, arrogant, absolutely clueless about Quidditch, and she doesn't a flying horseshit about anyone but herself. Not to mention I'm tired of listening to her prattle on about how bloody brilliant Oliver is. My God, she makes me sick."

The brunette beside her let out a sigh. "I'm Katie. I think we have potions, charms, transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Not to mention we share a dorm room."

"Yes," Genevieve nodded, "DADA isn't worth much with Lockhart as a professor, though."

"Yeah, I'd totally blow that class off if it didn't mean I be suspended from Quidditch."

And from there, Katie didn't stop talking and Genevieve didn't mind in the least. She could already tell she and Katie were going to be good friends.