|Sorry, Darling Dominique
Author: weasleyjumper PM
Similar to Scared Little Lily Luna, but you don't have to read that to understand this. Dominique is about 21, and, in a 24 hour muggle cafe, she's looking back at her life.Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Romance - Dominique W. - Words: 680 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Published: 06-10-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8202779
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer and Author's note: Je suis Weasleyjumper, je n'ai pas de Harry Potter. My appalling french there. This is kind of like Scared Little Lily Luna, and if you've read that you'll know Dominique's metal heart is mentioned, this is how she gets it.
When she was younger, Dominique Weasley had two very important people in her life, and they were two very different people, her cousin Molly Weasley and her best guy friend Lysander Scamander. Molly was her serious and beautiful cousin,and Lysander was her crazy and beautiful boy. Her boy. The boy Molly didn't like, he was too wild for her. Once upon a very long time ago she joked about them getting married and having confused children. She always used to smile at the prepostorousness of that, it was always going to be her and Lysander. In ten short hours, they're getting married. Not Dominique and Lysander, no. Molly and Lysander.
Dominique doesn't like it. In fact, every fibre of her body wants to cry at the prospect. She hurt at the prospect. She is so weakened by the mere thought of it that she can barely bring her coffee cup to her mouth. Her eyeliner is everywhere, from all the crying she's been doing. Her hair is a sky blue (the colour of Lysander's eyes) and orange bird's nest. Her lipstick is smudged and covering the rim of her grubby mug. She's wearing a massive, garishly coloured jumper, in sky blue and orange, with a matching dotted scarf over a pair of her sister's hand-me-down jeans. As she contemplates her dishevelled reflection in the cracked glass of the window in the dingy muggle twenty four hour cafe, she wonders where her promising young life is going. She has half a job , free-lance journalist for Lysander's granddad's magazine, 'The Quibbler'. She has millions of ex-boyfriends, but she's in love with her closest male friend. She has distanced herself from her family, something that never happens in the Wotter clan. She has no money, her sister hates her, her brother is ashamed of her, her mother is disgusted with her and her father barely knows her. All because of her days at Hogwarts when she was wild and crazy and not over-achieving and perfect like Maman et Papa et Victoire et Louis et Molly. Just because she wasn't going to pretend, and she wasn't going to fall in love.
She isn't going to fall in love. She is going to be like that story her Auntie Hermione used to read to her. About the Warlock who ripped out his heart. She'd bury her heart and replace it with a clockwork one. She'll never fall in love, always be alone. But she'd be fine. She will. She won't go to the wedding. That would overload the delicate system. She will move away, maybe to New York. Somewhere to keep her on her toes, let her forget about the world she leaves behind. This is what she wants. Never to feel a heartbeat again.
As she stands to leave, the flickering light glances off a sandy blonde head, and blue meets blue, as Dominique spots Lorcan Scamander, twin brother of Lysander and fiance of young Lucy, Molly's still in Hogwarts sister. How sickeningly sweet, sisters marrying twin brothers. He nods at her barely recognisable form and mutters something that brings an evil smirk to her lips.
"Lucy's pregnant." Well, that juicy little scandal should cover her disappearance and upstage Molly. She'd always liked Lorcan and Lucy as a couple and as her cousin and friend, even if the age difference between little Lucy (only seventeen) and Lorcan (twenty one) was a little scary. With a 'congratulations', Dominique swishes out of the door into the cold morning air, drizzle soaking her.
Covering up her tracks.
But she hopes someone (Lysander) realises she's gone.