Harry Potter was staring at her.

Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she focused all of her attention on helping her grannie into a comfortable looking chair, while Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, produced a chair for himself, so that Grannie Figg and Dumbledore flanked Harry from either side. A rather familiar looking fellow nodded at her, and she quickly retreated outside to escape all the eyes focused on her, shutting the massive door behind her. Leaning up against the nearby stone wall, she let her eyes shut for a moment, head reeling. In the name of all holy things, how could it be possible that she should be involved in his stupid life not once, but twice, before school had even started? Was there no mercy in this world?

She opened her eyes again, paying attention to a middle-aged redhead pacing up and down the corridor, no doubt waiting for the occupants inside. His eyes flashed briefly to hers, and he offered a simple smile, a polite grimace that reminded her most of all like someone who'd rather be anywhere else but here. It was a feeling she could very much identify with. She returned the smile, crossing her arms and allowing herself to bite at her thumbnail, doing her best to remain calm.

It would only be half a truth to say that a letter was what had brought them here. The day after all the commotion at Privet Drive had been quiet, when suddenly an owl had nearly joined them for the morning tea, holding a letter from Dumbledore himself with the promise of a hearing of a certain wizard within the Ministry of Magic. Grannie Figg was to stay put if her help was needed, and so Genevieve spent the next few days in a constant state of awareness, staring out of the window every so often to make sure she would spot the next owl's arrival.

Such a thing never did happen, but instead the familiar crack of someone apparating brought her to attention, sending her rushing out the bedroom door with no time to spare the still playing gramophone. A deep voice from downstairs indicated a visitor, and she was met with the sight of her grandmother looking up at a tall darkskinned wizard with broad shoulders. Despite his muggle clothing she was sure he couldn't be anything but a wizard, what with his strangely delightful hoop earring, not to mention his sudden appearance. He barely had time to explain to them how disapparating worked before they were pushed, pulled and pressed from all sides, and the world spun back into place the next second. The tall wizard had quickly caught hold of her grandmother, who appeared slightly shaken at the trip, while Genevieve had had to lean against the wall nearby, gasping for her breath. She knew what apparating was, and damned if she was ever doing that again.

The next moment they had both been ushered into the court room, and she had been close to laughing at the sound of her grannie's slippered feet against the floor. She herself was no better off, missing her shoes entirely, sporting a pair of mismatched socks: one was white with black dots, the other black with white stripes, and she was more than certain that every pair of eyes in the room had been staring at the odd situation. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, or so the saying goes.

After what seemed like an eternity, the heavy door finally opened again, and Grannie Figg trotted out, still looking shaken. Genevieve immediately pushed off the wall and rushed over to take her arm.

"Is everything okay, Gran?"

"Oh, everything's fine, dear, please don't fuss." Grannie Figg protested, but still let herself be led away from the door and down the hall. The worried redhead finally stopped pacing and turned to look at them, and it looked as though he was bracing himself for the worst.

"How did it go?" he asked, tone filled with worry.

"Well, they were rather blunt. Poor boy is probably scared half to death."

"Blimey," was the reply, and Genevieve was immediately reminded of a younger redhead that was usually stuck to the boy wonder like glue. Allowing herself a quick look at his face, she agreed with herself, that he was indeed a Weasley, perhaps even the Weasley. He caught her gaze and softened his features a little, stretching out a hand for her to take.

"Where are my manners. Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," he said warmly, and she gave him a quick handshake.

"Genevieve Gray. This is my grandmother." she explained, keeping a hand on Grannie Figg's arm. The two adults shook hands, and for one moment, it was as if they had simply met out on the street as polite strangers.

"Genevieve... Ah yes, Hermione mentioned you once," said Arthur Weasley lightly, features brightening considerably. She smiled at his enthusiasm, immediately deeming him worthy of any future and further conversation. It wasn't hard to love the brunette girl with the bright eyes and brilliant mind, and it had been mere coincidence that had caused them to become friends. She still remembered the day when Draco Malfoy had called Hermione a mudblood, causing Genevieve to promptly smack him upside down the head with her copy of Hogwarts: A History. Seeing the girl in the hallways later that day, she had timidly struck up conversation, and that was that. Since that day, they had sat together during shared classes, and would sometimes do study sessions together in the library. Hermione was a lot more focused on school work than Genevieve, but they had somehow made it work well enough for both of them to come out on the other side with considerably good grades. "You must know Harry, then."

"Only a little," Genevieve admitted, deflating a little. She noticed Grannie Figg giving her a look, but said nothing. Before conversation could go any further, there was a sudden burst of noise, and Mr. Weasley reverted back to worry, walking up close to the door when it suddenly opened, and Dumbledore casually walked out, steps light and fast against the cold stone floor below them.

He was gone around the corner before anyone could utter a word.

Fearing the worst, Genevieve stepped a little closer to the door herself just in time for it to wrench open again, and Harry Potter stumbled out, looking as though he had been run over by a freight train.

"Dumbledore didn't say-"

"Cleared of all charges," said Harry, quickly closing the door behind him. Mr. Weasley looked as though he had just been told Christmas had come early, and grabbed the boy by the shoulders.

"Wonderful! Well, of course they couldn't have found you guilty, but even so, I can't pretend-" Mr. Weasley spoke, only to be interrupted by the door opening a third time. They all quickly stepped to the side as several wizards and witches exited the court room all at once, some looking mighty pleased with themselves, and others as though they had been forced to eat rather unpleasant flavours of Bertie Bott's. Genevieve noticed a rather ugly woman, almost a toad, giving Harry an appraising look as she walked past, and felt a shudder go through her. A few moments later, their path was clear, and they all began walking down the hall together.

"I'm going to take you straight back so you can tell the others the good news," she heard Mr. Weasley say as he walked Harry round the corner and down another dimly lit corridor. Harry, who had suddenly appeared to realize that Genevieve was still there, looked over his shoulder every so often to get a good look at her, his face expressing a deep confusion, while he did his best to keep up conversation with his companion.

All such attempts were cut short when they reached the end of their corridor and found the Minister speaking to a man Genevieve had had more than a handful of nightmares about since her arrival at Hogwarts. Lucius Malfoy, all slender and statuette-like with his pale face and blonde hair, had stopped talking and was looking straight at Harry like he had been delivered a precious gift. It made her sick to her stomach, and she felt Grannie Figg tighten her grip on her arm. Clearly, he was a menace to all ages.

"Well, well... Patronus Potter," he said, and Genevieve noticed the way the boy before her had gone rigid. For a moment, she was temped to reach out and place her hand in his, to assure him that he was definitely not alone in this moment. Mr. Weasley came to her rescue, stepping up behind Harry and placing his hands on the teen's shoulders, and Malfoy's eyes hardened. "Quite astonishing how you manage to wriggle yourself out of these situations."

"I'm good at escaping," said Harry, voice tight. Malfoy smirked and let his gaze wander further up, coming in contact with Mr. Weasley's, and he almost seemed to perk up.

"And Arthur Weasley too! What are you doing here?"

"I work here."

"Not here surely?" said Malfoy quirking an eyebrow and glancing at the Minister. Mr Weasley's back straightened considerably as he drew himself up to his full height, and she was certain that they were seconds away from trouble now. Suspision confirmed, Malfoy finally caught sight of her, and he seemed to shift into a new persona completely. "And sweet Evie is here, too. My my, this is quite the reunion."

"Why are you here?" she heard Harry ask from somewhere far away. Her head was swimming, and she almost lost her footing despite standing completely still. He wasn't allowed to call her that, ever.

"Private matters between the Minister and myself aren't any concern of yours, Potter," said Malfoy shortly. She vaguely registered the exchange of a few more words before the departure of both men, followed by an understandable outburst by Harry. Grannie Figg patted her hand softly, and she looked down to see that she had tightened her grip considerably on her grandmother's arm.

Muttering a soft apology, she loosened her grip and focused on breathing evenly, while waiting for the lift to transport them back upstairs. It finally arrived a minute later, empty except for flying memos flapping about near the top of the inside. Both Mr. Weasley and Harry stepped inside, and Grannie Figg motioned to get inside too, but Genevieve quickly shut the gate. Mr. Weasley gave her a curious look before pressing the button, and the lift slowly went up, breaking her eye contact with the bespectacled boy with the green eyes.

It took her a good seven tries to find an empty compartment. The Hogwarts Express was notorious for being filled to the brim with several years' worth of students, and she barely managed to swerve inside when a young Hufflepuff barreled his way past her, quickly followed by an even younger Gryffindor.

Quickly shutting the door on the racket, she sat down near the window, looking out at the scenery. As luck would have it, geography gave her the better part of the day to spend observing the passing mountains and trees, and she nearly sighed with happiness.

This was something her grandfather would never be able to take from her.

During her first few years, he had insisted on arranging her transportation to school. Hated or not, she was his grandchild, and she was to arrive in an orderly fashion like the Pureblood she was. She could have laughed in his face now that she was older, but her younger self had resorted to staring up at the frightening man and muttering her compliance. Her first two years were then spent using a portkey that would take her to Hogsmeade, a village near the castle, and she'd be taken by carriage the rest of the way to the school accompanied by whatever household member was deemed worthy of transportation at the time. Then Draco Malfoy happened, and her third year had been her first time on the Hogwarts Express.

She supposed she had him to thank for that at least.

Ludmilla, a kitchen maid a good twenty years her senior, had sent her off with tears and promises to write, as Genevieve had then reluctantly followed Draco down through the train until they had found a suitable compartment in an area filled with Slytherins. He himself hadn't seem particularly excited having her around either, but he had been quick to shut up the ones that decided she should be sent on her way.

It wasn't a friendship per say. He was an utter bastard, and she despised his family, but there had always been something lingering between them that she couldn't quite put her finger on. A sort of mutual respect perhaps. But was it respect over Harry Potter? Or respect over their genealogy? Regardless, her grandfather and his parents had been quick to see the opportunity one fateful evening during her second year, and Genevieve had suddenly found herself the tutor of one annoying boy with slicked back blonde hair.

Thankfully, he wasn't keen on their partnership either, and they had decided through no uncertain terms, that they were to only speak when absolutely necessary, and preferably in hushed tones over books in the library. That ruled out awkward forced meetings in hallways or over dinner tables, and they would still be able to communicate, should their families ever decide on a joint venture.

It hadn't happened yet, but it was only a matter of time, and the thought frightened her a little, as she changed into her school robes. Father or not, Lucius Malfoy was a terrifying creature. It would be easy to mistake his aloofness for elegance, but there was something far more sinister going on beneath his skin. She was sure it had something to do with dark magic, perhaps even the Dark Lord himself, but she hadn't been able to come to a conclusion yet, nor did she want to ask Draco. That wasn't part of the ruleset. Still, it had been almost two weeks since the hearing, and she hadn't yet been able to shake the feeling of those icy blues freezing her insides.

As if on cue, the compartment door opened just as she closed her robe, and she looked up and caught sight of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. Muttering a very bad word, she turned her gaze back to the window and sat down as close as she could to it, willing him to go away. She heard him exhale and sit himself down across from her, while his goons took the isle seats in silence.

"No one here to sit with you?" asked Draco, accompanied by snickering on her right.

"At least I'm not constantly followed by baboons," Genevieve retorted. Goyle, in the middle of eating a pear drop, started immediately choking and spitting, and Crabbe reached over and pounded him loudly in the back with a flat hand. The pear drop came popping out of Goyle's mouth and hit Crabbe's forehead with a whack, before landing neatly on the floor between them. She raised a knowing eyebrow and Draco, and she could have sworn she saw the right corner of his mouth twitch a little.

"Won't be just them any more. I've been made Prefect."

"Congratulations." said Genevieve emotionlessly, sparing a look at the badge he already wore on his chest. She wouldn't be surprised if he would take this chance to misuse his newfound power greatly. "You'll be giving out detentions like they were chocolate frogs in no time."

"Careful, Gray, or you'll get one yourself."

She shrugged and dug a book out of her bag, determined to get some reading done if she couldn't be left in peace. He wouldn't give her detention, she knew that. Over the last two years, she had learned that the big difference between him and his father was that his father was definitely the scarier of the two. Draco promised empty threats while Malfoy senior was a walking political menace, his clean and gleaming hands deep inside several rich men's pockets, including that of her grandfather. Comparing the two Malfoys to each other was like comparing a kitten to a lion.

"I should give you detention just for conspiring with Potter."

"Living life vicariously through father dearest, are we?" Genevieve inquired, looking briefly up from the pages. Draco scoffed in reply and leaned his elbow against the edge of the window, letting his chin plop into his hand and staring at the passing mountains, while Crabbe and Goyle went back to eating sweets and having a stupid conversation that involved something about how many first years they could each scare before the day was over.

The hours passed slowly, and she was fairly sure she had dosed off at some point, when the familiar sounds of students bustling about signaled their iminent arrival. Draco got up and immediately left the compartment without uttering a single word in goodbye, his loyal goons close behind. Genevieve gathered her belongings quickly, and made her way to the doors, the cold night nipping at her skin. Students enveloped her from all sides as she was slowly shuffled down the platform, and she was immediately thankful to be without a pet this year. Grannie Figg had suggested that Genevieve actually take the little black menace with her, seeing as they were actually bonding, but Geneveieve had quickly dismissed the idea, saying that a pet at this time would be more trouble than it was worth, even if Grannie Figg were to take care of it all summer.

With the way the students were pushing and jostling their way towards the coaches, she knew she had made the right choice.

Unsurprisingly, she spotted Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson make their way towards a free coach, pushing a couple of younger students out of the way rudely. She noticed Draco towering over a young boy who could only be a first year, and for a second he looked so like his father that she was caught between immediate fear and seething rage.

Ignoring the way her insides were twisting themselves around each other, she walked further on, noticing Hermione as part of the nearby crowd. Hermione spotted her too, and immediately walked to the side to wait for her friend to catch up with her.

"That filfthy, slimy thing has been made prefect, and the first thing he does is using his power to scare children."

"Nice to see you too, Hermione," said Genevieve, chuckling as she was bumped a little to the side by the still ongoing crowd. Hermione's shoulders sagged a little, and she offered a small smile.

"Sorry. Long summer."

"I can imagine," she said, Harry's trial entering her mind. No doubt he had told Hermione all about it, most likely including their chance meeting in the tale. She suspected an interesting study session would come up within the next few days. They finally arrived at the little group waiting for Hermione, which was made up of Harry and his friend Ron. Hermione immediately started complaining about Draco, while Harry apparently could do nothing but stare at their new arrival. It unerved her a little, and she did her best to avert her gaze, pretending he didn't exist. This was getting harder and harder to do as the years grew, and his height with him.

"Where's Crookshanks?"

"Ginny has him," said Harry, slowly tearing his eyes away from Genevieve to look at the crowd. A redhaired girl, who she knew to be Ginny despite never having really met her, came walking towards them with a squirming orange furball in her arms. Hermione thanked her and took the cat gratefully, and they started towards the nearest unoccupied coach, Ron and Harry a few feet behind. Genevieve stopped in front of it then, logic getting the better of her.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking utterly confused.

"Nothing. I'll just take another coach with one of the other Ravenclaws."

"There's plenty of room," said Ginny, shrugging and making her way inside. Hermione looked almost sympathetically at Genevieve, as though knowing exactly what all this was about.

"It's really no trouble, Evie." she said, taking care with using her nickname. It managed to bring up memories and feelings she'd rather were hidden away for no one to find, but the way Hermione had always said it with such softness made her believe for a second that perhaps the name wasn't so bad after all. Maybe it wasn't cursed.

"On your head be it, Granger," Genevieve said, causing Hermione to smile as she made room for her to crawl into the coach. Ginny smirked and scooted to the side to make room, while Hermione sat on the other side of her, filling up one part of the coach. They waited for the boys to finish talking outside, until, finally, Ron peered inside and took a seat across from Ginny. He gave Genevieve an odd look, but said nothing. Next came Luna Lovegood, a girl from the year below her, and sat down at the other side of the coach across from Hermione, all starry eyes and silver hair.

"Oh, hello Genevieve. I didn't see you on the train. You could have sat with us."

"That's alright, Luna," said Genevie quickly, noting the way Ron looked incredulously at Luna as if to say that he wasn't in any way part of that so called 'us'. Harry then entered and slammed the door behind him, sitting down in between Ron and Luna, looking as though he was having second thoughts about choosing to ride with them, and she began to study the surprisingly interesting window panels. The coach set off into the night, and they jumbled too and fro for a little while before Ginny finally broke the tense silence.

"Did everyone see that Grubby-Plank woman? Hagrid can't have left, can he?"

"I'll be quite glad if he has. He isn't a very good teacher, is he?", said Luna nonchalantly. This was met with loud contradiction from both Weasleys and Harry, and a rather feeble one from Hermione. Luna shrugged. "Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke."

Several heads turned to look at Genevieve at once, and she felt herself grow a deep crimson colour. For a second she thought to defend herself, to pull herself out of the joint statement. Hagrid wasn't a bad teacher, not by a long shot. She had always found him to be rather enthusiastic on the subject of magical creatures, and it was an enthusiasm that was almost infectious, but while his love for the subject shone bright, his academic knowledge was of a lesser extent, and it had often brought trouble as a result. Most of the Ravenclaws she knew were partial to him, while others had downright demanded a new teacher.

"Well you have a rubbish sense of humor, then," Ron nearly grumbled, glancing at Genevieve, who sighed defeatedly and sunk down in her seat, wishing for it to swallow her up.