The Trial ; D.M

33

Pansy stares between them, surveying the shock of their expressions. Yet there only seems to be concern splashed across her face. No trace of suspicion or scheming in her small frown and downcast eyes.

"Everything okay, Geneva?" she asks, looking intently at her with an expression of unease.

Geneva stares back, jaw stuttering as she tries to form a coherent reply. After a few silent seconds, she still can't make a sound, but Draco recovers quickly.

"It's fine. She had a dizzy spell. That's all," he fibs, nonchalantly, blocking himself in front of Geneva.

"I believe I was asking Geneva," Pansy spits back, throwing him a disgusted sneer.

She watches idly as Pansy's eyes pierce their way into Draco, riling him up, attempting to make his short temper crack. She can't see Draco's expression, but can only imagine the venomous facade that possesses him.

"Yes, I'm okay," Geneva replies in a clipped tone, attempting to prevent any conflict here as some life kicks into her, willing her to move and stand slightly ahead of Draco.

Pansy nods slowly in return, her eyes still flickering between them sceptically. Without uttering another word, she turns on her heel and prances back towards the dining room.

Draco and Geneva eye each other in silence, waiting for her to get out of earshot. Geneva feels that same vibrating panic buzz through her ever so slightly, as if an aftershock of an earthquake has occurred through her body.

"I'll handle it," Draco grunts, before he begins to pounce away towards the dining room.

Geneva grabs his hand, forcefully pulling him back. "No! Don't. She witnessed nothing. Don't give her something to be suspicious about."

"You don't know that girl like I do, Geneva. She'll make up any story to get what she wants."

"Then let her. Don't play into it."

He appears to deliberate it for a few seconds, weighing up the best option. His teeth grit in frustration, and for what might be the very first time, he actually conforms with what she says.

"Let me take you upstairs." His voice is assertive and filled with apprehension.

"No, just— go back. Let them think nothing of it."

"I couldn't give a shit what they think."

She steps forwards, her hand caving over his cheek, affectionately.

"Please— just go back. Come and see me later. When they've left. When it's quiet."

His mouth folds into a frustrated line and the creases between his brows crook in defeat.

"Fine."

"I'll wait up," she says, offering a small smile.

He peers behind him quickly, making sure they're alone, before he steps forwards and places a gentle, familiar kiss onto her forehead. She's engulfed by his inviting scent and the risky notion startles her into pleasant silence. She watches after him as he stalks back to the dining room, giving her one last quick glance before he swoops around the corner and out of view.

Geneva tries to maintain control over her breathing while strolling at a steady pace back to her bed chamber. She can't bring herself to think of anything right now. For if she does, there's a risk of getting herself into that state again. When she feels her heart quickening, she stills in the unlit upstairs corridor before reaching her room. She pulls out her wand and casts a mild stress relief charm.

"Laxo."

Her heart rate slows from its furious thrumming and she wanders into her room with a calmer air about her. Not a single thought can enter the strict boundaries of her mind. It's been a while since that fear has crept up on her, and it certainly did so in a manner that she would have never expected. And she cannot even begin to comprehend the information that was revealed concerning Theodore.