Chapter 4: The Unraveling Pt.2

"Half of writing history is hiding the truth."
-Joss Whedon

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Genevieve looked up from her Transfiguration essay and over to Draco. He had tossed his quill on top of his parchment and his expression was close to an insolent glare as it could be. "Tell you what?"

"That you're not muggle-born? Why did it take you two bloody years to tell me," he snapped. Genevieve's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "I just confessed to you the other night that I don't know who my real parents are and you're making this about you?" She shook her head in amazement. "You're amazing, Draco, absolutely amazing. Here it is I think I've figured you out and there you go, shocking me with your self-absorption!"

He scowled. "I want an answer, Gen." She scowled back, though she was not half as mad as she let on. Mostly, she was embarrassed. "When should I have told you?"

"When we became friends, perhaps," he asked, scoffing, "that seems like an excellent time to say something."

"Draco, you are the only person who knows about this," she gritted out, clenching the edge of the table, "shouldn't that mean something to you? Why is this such an issue for you?"

"Why can't you tell me? Do you think the answer would hurt my feelings?"

"No," she snapped, "not at all. I just don't think it's important."

"It's important to me," he snapped back, his expression resolute. She sagged in defeat, her expression still sullen. "I told you it was because I was worried. I didn't know who to trust-"

"Bullocks, MacDuff, why?"

She fell back in her chair and looked away from. "Because it made me feel special."

Draco's face scrunched up in confusion. "Lying about being a muggle-born made you feel special? You do remember how many muggle-borns there are, right?"

"Yes, but," she halted sliding her gaze over to him nervously, "but how many of them are you friends with? I liked being the only one you talked to. The only one you cared about. It made me feel special."

"You could be a..a half-blood," Draco muttered as he cleared his throat as he looked everywhere but at her. "But even i-if you turn out to be a pureblood, you'll still be special. To me."

An awkward silence descended on the pair and Genevieve opened and closed her mouth several times before finally finding the courage to say something. "How...far are you? On your essay?"

Draco jolted forward to grip his quill and parchment, still refusing to look at her and she made sure to keep her gaze trained only on his essay. "I'm almost done. Do you want to look at what I've got so far?"

She nodded and held out her hand. As they transferred the essay between the two of them, their fingers grazed one another and they pulled away simultaneously, dropping the parchment on the table. Genevieve scrambled to pick it up and Draco drummed his fingers on the tabletop as she read over his writing. She handed it back to him briskly. "It's good. Quite brilliant, really. I don't think there's any way in which to improve it."

"So, we're done, then?"

She nodded and started packing up her things, all the while aware of Draco's searching gaze. "Until tomorrow then?"

Genevieve nodded yet again. "Until tomorrow." She winced when she realized how shaky her voice had sounded even to her own ears. What on earth was wrong with her? Just as she started to pass the first shelf of books, Draco called out, "Genevieve, are you going to Hogsmeade? Next month-Hogs-Hogsmeade..."

She turned slowly. Draco was looking at her nervously, one hand shoved in the pocket of his robes. She watched as his adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed violently. "Yes, I'm planning on buying everyone's Christmas presents."

"Would you maybe want to meet up? By the Shrieking Shack?"

"Isn't that," she almost choked on her tongue then, "that where students go to...snog?"

Genevieve had never witnessed someone turn so red so quickly. "So we can talk," he practically shouted at her, his eyes wide and wild. "You know, I-you-not-nevermind."

"What?"

"Nevermind," he insisted and his voice cracked. "It was stupid. We can talk any night of the week."

"Right," she said hesitantly as she backed away. "How about we meet up by the lake before your Care of Magical Creatures class? I have lunch then. We can meet by the lake near to where your class will be meeting."

"That works for me," Draco replied quietly, still slightly red in the face. Hie embarrassment was causing her to feel embarrassed as well. She nodded, clutching her books close to her chest and Gave him a small wave. "Well, I'll see you then. Good night, Draco."

He nodded once at her retreating form, an unrecognizable look in his eyes, flickering behind his nonchalant manner.

When Genevieve reached the common room, she was confronted by a very distraught redheaded third year. "Have you seen Scabbers?"

"Who," she asked, momentarily fearing for the poor boy's sanity.

"It's his pet rat," Oliver Wood answered from a table nearby where he was lounging with Alicia and the Weasley twins, "he's lost it. Again."

She watched as Ron darted back and forth across the room frantically. "Why don't you put him in a cage, then?"

"Percy never had to put him in a cage," Ron cried as he bent down to check under the couch by the fireplace for the umpteenth time. "Hermione's devil cat ate him, I just know it."

"All the more reason to keep him in a cage then," the girl in question snapped as she stomped down the stairs into the common room. She was scowling angrily. Her hair looked uncharacteristically frizzy. "I've found no dead rats in my room, Ronald, none in any of the other girl's dormitories and Crookshanks isn't even in the tower right now."

"Doesn't mean he didn't eat him. Could've done it while we were in class," Ron mumbled sourly, scowling back just as fiercely. Genevieve rolled her eyes at the pair and started toward the stairs.

"Oi, Gen, where've you been," Alicia called though it was clear she was so interested. "Tutoring," she answered as she made her way toward the steps. Alicia looked up from picking at the nail beds on her left hand. "I thought you quit most of that?"

"I'm only tutoring one student right now."

Alicia's eyebrows shot up into hairline. "Is it that same one you were meeting practically every night last year?"

Genevieve hugged her book closer to her chest defensively. "Yes, why?"

Alicia smirked. "Sounds more like a study date to me. It's a bloke, right? I think I remember you mentioning something about him being a bloke."

"Yes, he is a boy, but he is still my pupil," she stuttered out, horrified at what her dark-haired friend was implying. "That would be extremely inappropriate."

"So what you're saying is you find him wicked fit," Alicia asked, now completely enthralled with how uncomfortable she was making her friend.

"Who is it?" Genevieve jumped and turned around. Angelina Johnson looked positively ecstatic at the thought of one of her friends fancying a boy. "Is it Diggory? Davies? Ooooh, maybe it's Edgecomb."

"No, I do not," she stammered in mortification, "I could never-we're just friends. And all we ever do is work on homework and study and-and what you are insinuating is just despicable!"

The Weasley twins whistled in unison and Angelina's grin widened. "Oh, you really fancy him. I mean, you really really fancy him."

"I do not fancy him," she insisted. She was growing more and more agitated by the moment. Without waiting for a response from any of them, she stormed up the stairs to her dormitory and slammed the door. She threw her books down on the floor and slumped down on her bed.

"What's got your wand in a knot," Rosamund sniped as she pranced in from the bathroom, looking more self-involved than usual. Genevieve stared up at the canopy of her bad and asked, "Hot plans with Wood tonight?"

"Oh, that," Rosmund replied boredly, "that's pretty much run its course."

"You mean he didn't bite." Genevieve couldn't keep from smiling. Rosamund's head snapped in her direction and her eyes narrowed as her nostrils flared in irritation. "No, I just got tired of him. And, after I really thought about it, most Quidditch players don't stay in the league long. Who wants to be married to a has-been? No, mother and father were right, of course. One should always try to marry into old money."

"Well, I'm sure you and Pucey will make a lovely couple," she said, only half-joking. Adrian Pucey was foul, but he wasn't in any way hideous. And she would be lying if she said Rosamund wasn't at least a bit attractive. It was their personalities that made them so repulsive.

"Pucey," Rosamund chortled, "Heaven's no! Me and Pucey? How utterly ridiculous. No, I'm talking about Malfoy."

Genevieve snapped to attention, pushing herself up onto her elbows so that she could stare at her former best friend with wide eyes. "Malfoy? Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

Rosamund gave her a condescending look as she ran her fingers through her hair and adjusted the sleeves of her top. "Who else would I be talking about?"

Genevieve just stared at her in dumb shock. Draco Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?! Rosamund was going to try to seduce Draco Malfoy?! At that moment, Genevieve didn't know whether she should laugh or scream in outrage. There was absolutely no way in hell Draco would ever fall for that...right? Hadn't he voiced his disdain about her only last year?

She studied the blonde girl critically and quickly decided she did not like what she saw. It appeared several of Rosamund's physical attributes had "blossomed" over the summer. One of those attributes being-most notably-her breasts. Her lips seemed a bit poutier as well. And her hair had always been fabulous.

"Perfect, isn't it," she exclaimed, a smug smile adorning her face. Genevieve was dismayed to realize that she hadn't gone overboard with the makeup, which meant she possessed some amount of natural beauty. Rosamund let out an exaggerated sigh, "I can't believe I didn't see it before. He's tall, fit, smart, well-connected, and he's filthy rich!"

Genevieve wanted to vomit then. "It sounds wonderful," she muttered as she buried herself in her blankets. She was never getting up again. If by some sick coincidence, Draco did actually decide to date Rosamund, Genevieve was never getting out of bed again. She was going to lay there, unmoving, until various forms of fungi began to grow on her. And then she was going to lay there some more.

Rosamund flitted out of the room without so much as a backward glance and Genevieve continued to lay there motionless for the rest of the night. All she could think of was Rosamund hanging all over Draco the way Pansy had and it set her teeth on edge. It left the foulest taste in her mouth. The idea disgusted her. Rosamund and Pansy were beneath him. He knew that, right? Draco knew he deserved better than either of them...didn't he?

She couldn't stop her mind from racing, couldn't understand why it was so troublesome to her. Draco was brilliant, he was kind, he was...he wouldn't fall for someone like Rosamund. Not ever. She was sure of it. She needed to be sure of it. She would warn him tomorrow and that would be the end of it. Her resolution to herself didn't exactly make it any easier to sleep and the next morning she felt as close to a zombie as possible. She was positive she resembled an inferi.

She showered, dressed, and stumbled partway down the steps and across the common room. She couldn't stop yawning and she barely managed to get through breakfast without face-planting in her plate of bacon and eggs. She scrubbed a hand over her face as she exited the great hall with the rest of the other students, trudging along and fighting exhaustion the entire way.

Herbology, Charms, and Ancient Runes passed in a dull blur that seemed much too endless. She could barely manage to keep her eyes open as Professor Sprout attempted to wrestle a tentaculily into a new pot. It took her three tries when the agitated plant managed to whip one of its tentacles at her, knocking her hat off her head. If she hadn't been so tired, Genevieve would have laughed along with the rest of her class.

She sighed in relief once free period arrived and tripped her way toward Black Lake, ignoring snide remarks from Marcus Flint as she went. He managed to call her "mudblood" several times in a row. Creative. Once she reached the lake, she sighed heavily, and dropped her bag at the foot of a tree and then settled down in between its roots. She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. A short nap wouldn't hurt, would it?

She had dozed off for no more than ten minutes when she felt a puff of overly warm breath brush against her cheek accompanied by intense purring. She cracked one violet eye and yawned. "Oh, Crookshanks, go back to the castle," she mumbled, patting the cat absently and readjusting her position. "I'm busy."

The cat let out an annoyed growl and swatted at her nose. She batted his paw away and he batted back. Trying her best to look annoyed, she scowled down at the orange feline. "Crookshanks, I'm tired. Go bother Weasley, you seem to enjoy that enough."

The cat settle on her lap and stared up at her in boredom. She rolled her eyes in resignation. "You are stubborn, aren't you?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth then Crookshanks stood and gazed off at the Forbidden forest, as if waiting. Genevieve followed the cat's stare to a big, shaggy, black dog that was standing at the forest's edge. Its ears were flattened close to its head and it was staring at her with silver eyes that seemed almost wary. It looked less than friendly.

"Did Hagrid get another dog," she wondered aloud as she stood, dusting off her robes. She eyed the stray just as warily. He didn't look too friendly. She bent at the waist and let out a soft whistle. "Come, here, boy!"

The dog sat back on its haunches and continued to stare at her. Only now it looked a bit haughty in its dismissal of her. She snorted in amusement. She was being blown off by a dog. She shrugged to herself and sat back down under the tree. "You're welcome to join us at any time."

She pulled out her potions book and hummed idly as she thumbed through the pages towards the one she'd marked. She muttered to herself as she listed off potion ingredients in her head and then snapped the book shut, trying to recall what she'd just read from memory. The sound of heavy panting nearby alerted her to the presence of the big shaggy dog. He was sitting no farther than a foot away. His head was tilted to one side and it gave Genevieve the impression that he was studying her the way a human would.

She stared back just as intently, unflinching when the dog trotted forward, plopped down next to her, and laid his head on her knee. She raised an eyebrow and scratched behind his ears. Crookshanks perched himself on her other side and curled up, still purring. Genevieve giggled. "I feel like a fairytale princess. Are any bunnies and does going to come frolicking out of the woods soon?" The dog let out a snort and she laughed again before leaning back and lazily petting the dog as she stared out at the lake.

"What the bloody hell is that, MacDuff," exclaimed a familiar voice. The dog jumped to its feet and growled. She sat up slowly and patted its head. "It's a stray dog, Draco, I thought that was obvious."

"And you're just letting it cuddle up to you," he cried looking concerned and angry all at once, "what if it has rabies and it bites you?"

"Then I'll let you hex it into oblivion like the big, strong man that you are," she laughed, "now, shut up and come sit with us."

Draco rolled his eyes and settled down next to her. It didn't escape her notice that the dog was still growling at him. She gave it a reproving look and then turned her attention back to the blond boy before her. Draco was staring at her with an odd look on his face. "You have a leaf. In your hair," he muttered, reaching over to pull it out. Genevieve flushed at the sudden contact and tried to ignore the fact that Draco's long fingers were currently running through her hair in a way that was slower than necessary. She cleared her throat and he snapped out of whatever daze he'd been in.

"They think Sirius Black is headed toward Hogwarts," he informed her, directing his gaze out toward the lake, "everyone thinks he's after Potter, I'm sure of it."

"Sirius Black was a Gryffindor, wasn't he," she asked. Draco nodded, brow furrowed in confusion, "First and only one in the Black family sorted into any house other than Slytherin. Mum says he ran away from home. Went to live with James Potter. He was a blood-traitor."

"Draco," she said lowly, looking at the dog, who was still staring at Draco with an indecisive expression on its face, "if we're best friends," the dog's attention snapped to her then. "doesn't that make you a blood-traitor as well?"

"Yes," he answered not even seemingly concerned, "if Mum and Dad ever found out about you, I'd be disowned. Or worse."

"Then maybe we shouldn't-"

"Shut your gob, Vivvy. If you think I'm going to even consider dumping you as a friend, you're barking." She pursed her lips thoughtfully and then said, "Do you think he could be my Dad? Sirius, I mean. We're both Gryffindors who could have been placed in Slytherin. The sorting hat basically implied I'm a pureblood-"

"Yes, but I don't ever remember Mum or anyone else mentioning any pureblood girls involved with Sirius. Not that he was a subject my family was ever fond of mentioning. Even after he killed all those muggles. Mom said everyone hated him even more after that." His brow furrowed in thought. "That's rather odd isn't it? You'd think they'd be happy about him killing the Potters and a bunch of muggles-maybe even welcome him back into the family, but whenever he's mentioned, Mum gets real sad. Dad says after he killed them all, Aunt Bellatrix went on a tear. Tortured a bunch of people."

"Rosamund has a crush on you," she blurted suddenly, not understanding why that was her response to the information he'd just given her "She thinks the two of you are perfect for one another."

He made a disgusted face. "Me and Rosamund Beckwith? That stupid bint? I wouldn't touch her wearing a pair of dragonhide gloves. She's worse than Parkinson."

"Yes, but you let Parkinson actually touch you." She couldn't keep the bitter edge from infiltrating her voice. Why did she even care? Draco tossed a rock into the lake and shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything."

"Oh, I'm sure." Draco pinned her with an penetrating look. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," she snapped back, scowling at him, "I just think you're better than both of them is all. You could do better."

He leaned closer to her, his expression unreadable and she leaned back at the sudden intrusion into her personal space. "With who? Who could I do better with?"

"I-I-" she stuttered, her eyes much wider than usual. She gulped audibly when Draco's silvery eyes dropped down to her lips and his voice deepened, becoming rougher, "Who could I do better with, Vivvy?"

He leaned even closer and Genevieve's breathing became erratic and her heart raced with anticipation-for what she wasn't sure. They both jolted away from one another when the dog began to bark madly. He pushed himself between the two students and growled at Draco. Genevieve wrapped both arms around the dog's neck and fought to keep him back. "Don't, no! He's my friend!" The dog pulled frantically, growling and snarling at Draco, who scowled back at the dog. "That beast is a menace."

"I don't think he likes you being so close to me," she defended, "I don't know why. It's not like you were going to hurt me."

"I'd never do that. I was going to-" he stopped mid-sentence and his face reddened. The dog stopped barking and struggling instantly. She blushed along with him and released the dog. It looked between the two of them curiously.

"Tutoring same time tonight," Draco asked, his voice cracking into a higher pitch. She nodded and he grabbed his stuff quickly. "Right, I'll see you tonight."

Genevieve stared after him, confused and panicked. Things just kept getting more and more awkward between them and she didn't understand why. Why was it so hard for them to just have normal conversations that didn't turn into awkward staring contests minus the staring?

She growled to herself and stalked off toward the castle, ignoring the whining dog she left behind. She kicked a large stone as she went. She knew she was wearing an unusually stormy expression on her face, but she didn't care. So what if she looked terrifying? She wasn't exactly happy at the moment.

It was time for her Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin. She trudged into the classroom and slammed the door open. Those who had already arrived looked up and eyed her openly. She refused to look at anyone as she took her seat and pulled out her textbook and the essay that was currently due. She had finished it three days earlier. It was two feet longer than necessary. She looked ahead, toward professor Lupin's desk, completely ignoring the questioning glance Katie was giving her. It barely registered that even Professor Lupin was staring at her in warily. Had she really barged into class looking that temperamental?

Well, so what? She was angry. She was extremely angry. She slammed her book open, causing many students, including a few Slytherins that happened to be present to jump nervously. Katie tried to surreptitiously scoot further away from her irate friend and Genevieve whirled on her with a thunderous expression. "Quit twitching and get your homework out," she hissed, sounding particularly venomous.

"Bloody hell, she's scary," someone whispered behind her. Damn straight she was. Nobody dismissed Genevieve MacDuff without some much as a backward glance. Especially, not Draco Malfoy.

AN: eventually, there will be more with Draco and Genevieve and more interaction between Genevieve and Harry, Ron, and Hermione. For now, I plan on taking it slow, but things will definitely pick up once Genevieve reaches her sixth year (which would be Draco's fifth).

Reviews would be appreciated. I like to know whether I'm dropping the ball or not.