THE ANGEL OF WOE | RON WEASLEY [BOOK THREE]

19. TRYING TO CATCH ME

Gene awoke with a burning pain across her entire body. It didn't stop there. Her right hand lifted, resting over the locket that sat on her chest. She went to raise the other hand, her brows furrowed in confusion when she realised it was being weighed down, her eyes settling on the mop of ginger that rest atop her hand.

She couldn't bring herself to wake him, though it seemed she didn't have to as he began to murmur under his breath, something about spiders, Gene realised with a small smile. Her hand went to touch his head, softly ruffling his hair as he suddenly lifted his head, blinking a couple of times before his eyes widened at the sight of Gene fully awake.

Ron wiped at his face, brushing his hair into place and shifting in his seat, as Gene watched on in amusement, pulling her hand back to her side.

"What are you doing here?" Gene asked, her voice hoarse in her throat and she winced at the sound of it.

"I didn't want you to wake up alone." Ron answered, causing Gene to freeze as her eyes trailed across his face, feeling her heart flutter at his words.

Then she froze once more. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not with Ron. Gene felt her skin tingling, her heart beating faster as her cheeks flushed. She just prayed he didn't notice.

Luckily, a distraction came in the form of Dumbledore, as the doors to the infirmary opened and he slowly approached. The sensation of utter rage and loathing that used to overcome her at the sight of him, had disappeared, she realised.

Ron took this as his sign to leave, offering Gene a small smile, the tips of his ears pink as he left. Dumbledore took the seat beside Gene, her smile diminishing at this point as she could barely bring herself to look him in the eyes.

"He hasn't left your side in the last four days." Dumbledore mused, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips, though it faltered as he noticed Gene wasn't smiling. "I'm sorry, Genevieve. I know how you're feeling–"

"You don't." she shook her head, her chest hollow. "It's my fault. Not Harry's- mine." Gene said firmly, sighing deeply.

"It's funny. He said the same thing." Dumbledore answered. "But the fault is mine. I knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort became aware of the connection between you and Harry, and tried to exploit it. I thought by distancing myself from you both, as I have all year, he would be less tempted, and you might thereby be protected. An old man's mistake." he shook his head gently.

"You're Dumbledore." Gene muttered. "You don't make mistakes." she said, causing a small smile to reach his face.

"Gene, as much as it pains me to disillusion you, I am all too fallible." he returned, "And this war that has now begun, may just as easily be lost as won."

Gene swallowed thickly, her throat still itching as she looked at Dumbledore, properly for the first time in a long while. He looked different since his battle with Voldemort. He looked, for the first time in Gene's five years of knowing him– old.

"The prophecy said 'neither can live while the other survives'. It means one of us has got to kill the other in the end." Gene recalled Trelawney's voice, words that would haunt her for a lifetime, "But it didn't say both of us." Gene muttered quietly, realisation sinking in.

Dumbledore didn't say anything and it was answer enough as she nodded in slow realisation and even acceptance. One of them was going to die.

"You've kept a lot of secrets from me over the years, sir–" Gene began, her brows pulled together, "but this one takes first place." she finally looked at him, "Why didn't you tell me?" her voice was quiet, small, not like the Gene that Dumbledore knew now. It tore him apart.