The air was cooler than usual as Rufus stepped out of the Ministry and into the quiet streets of Wizarding London. His thoughts were in disarray, replaying the conversation with Henry Delacroix again and again. The weight of the French Minister’s words bore down on him like a heavy cloak, and Rufus wasn’t one to take responsibility lightly.
Genevieve. His mind kept circling back to her.
She had been a bright spot in the chaos of his world. From their shared moments in the Magical Zoo to the quiet evenings at the Public Library, their bond had grown slowly, naturally. He admired her sharp mind, her passion for magical creatures, and the resilience she carried after her parents’ untimely death. Yet, he had never once considered that their relationship could take such a turn—that he might be asked to protect her in a way far beyond what he had imagined.
Rufus exhaled deeply, his breath visible in the cool evening air. He needed to speak with her. But how?
As he made his way down the cobbled streets, his thoughts drifted back to their most recent outing. He remembered how Genevieve’s laughter had echoed through the gardens of the Magical Zoo, her eyes lighting up as they talked about rare creatures, her fingers brushing against his arm as they walked side by side. There had been no talk of politics, no weight of expectation between them. It had been simple, easy.
Now, the simplicity was gone, replaced by something far more complex.
Rufus knew that Henry’s concern was genuine. The pressures surrounding Genevieve were mounting—pureblood families eager to stake a claim, eager to control her future. And with Henry’s power waning, those protections were slipping away. But that didn’t make this easier.
“Genevieve deserves a choice,” Rufus muttered to himself as he turned the corner toward her home.
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Later that evening
Genevieve’s small but elegant townhouse stood at the edge of the city, surrounded by quiet hedges and enchanted lanterns that flickered softly in the evening breeze. Rufus approached the door, pausing for a moment before raising his hand to knock. He wasn’t sure how to navigate this conversation. Henry had asked much of him, but Genevieve’s feelings mattered most.
After a moment, the door creaked open, and Genevieve appeared, her face softening into a smile as she saw him. Her long auburn hair framed her face, and her eyes, the color of autumn leaves, twinkled in the lantern light.
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“Rufus,” she greeted him warmly. “What a pleasant surprise. Come in.”
Rufus stepped inside, his mind still racing with thoughts of how to begin. The house smelled of fresh parchment and flowers, calming and familiar. Genevieve led him into the sitting room, offering him tea, which he gratefully accepted.
As they settled, silence stretched between them for a moment. Genevieve noticed the tension in Rufus’s posture, her smile fading slightly.
“You seem troubled,” she said, her tone filled with concern. “What’s on your mind?”
Rufus shifted, setting the teacup down on the small table in front of them. “I’ve spoken with your uncle.”
Genevieve raised an eyebrow, a touch of curiosity flickering across her face. “Oh? Was it about the Ministry business?”
“In a way,” Rufus said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “He... he’s worried about you. About your future.”
Genevieve leaned back, crossing her arms. “My future? He always worries about that. It’s his way. But you’re not here just because of that, are you?”
Rufus met her gaze, knowing he had to be honest. “No. There’s more to it than just concern. He’s losing political power, and with that, he feels he won’t be able to protect you from those who may try to control your life. Specifically, the families that have shown interest in... well, marrying you.”
Genevieve’s face darkened slightly, her jaw tightening. She had heard this before, more times than she could count. The weight of being an eligible, wealthy pureblood wasn’t new to her, but the prospect of marriage as a political tool had always been something she had resisted fiercely.
“So, that’s what this is about,” she said quietly. “Uncle Henry is worried about alliances and protections.”
Rufus hesitated. “It’s more than just alliances. He’s genuinely worried that once he loses office, those who want to force you into something against your will might take advantage.”
Genevieve’s expression softened slightly at Rufus’s words. “He means well, I know. But I’m not some pawn to be married off for political convenience.” She looked away for a moment, her voice quieter. “I thought he understood that.”
“He does,” Rufus replied gently. “Which is why he came to me.”
Genevieve’s gaze snapped back to his, her eyes widening in surprise. “To you?”
Rufus nodded, feeling the weight of Henry’s request settle over him again. “He asked me to consider... well, to consider whether I could be the one to stand by you. As someone who could protect you from these pressures.”
Genevieve stared at him, her emotions unreadable for a moment. Then, she let out a soft laugh, though it was laced with a tinge of sadness. “And what do you think of that?”
“I think... I think you deserve the right to make your own choices,” Rufus said firmly. “This isn’t something I want to pressure you into, Genevieve. You and I, we’ve shared good moments together, but this is far more than just that. You’re more than a political ally to me.”
Genevieve smiled faintly, her eyes softening as she looked at him. “Thank you, Rufus. That means a lot.”
Rufus leaned forward slightly, his voice lower. “I just want you to know that whatever happens, whatever decision you make, I’ll stand by you. But it’s your choice. Always.”
Genevieve reached across the table, her hand resting on his for a moment, a gesture of appreciation. “I know,” she whispered. “And that’s why I trust you.”