My entry in the Qudditch League Fanfiction Competition Round 2! I have never done a song fix before. I examined the assigned lyrics, listened to the song and somehow this popped out.
"Molly, are you awake?" Dominique rolled over to look at the other sleeping figure in the room. It was Christmas Eve, and the Weasley's had all gathered at the burrow to celebrate. She was full from an incredibly large meal and sharing a bedroom with her cousin for the night. It was her Aunt Gunny's old bedroom on the second floor. Grandmum and Grandpa were just down the hall.
"I am now." Molly rolled over and looked at Dominique through sleep heavy eyes and yawned loudly. "What do you need?"
"I don't," she rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. "I can't sleep, that's all."
Dominique could practically hear Molly roll her eyes in disbelief. Molly was smart like that. Her emotional bullshit sensors had always been incredibly sensitive; somebody had to be able to translate Lucy for the rest of the cousins. That girl was an emotional cripple in every sense.
"Dom, I'm here, you woke me up. Talk to me."
Dominique sighed. Where could she start?
She despised the feelings of helplessness and uncertainty that plagued her. Each step brought her closer and closer to the uncertain places that were coming upon her in her life. These uncertainties about her future left her raw and trembling. Dominique wanted to be strong, but at this point it was quickly becoming too hard to be such for herself, let alone for anyone else. She was ready to move on with her life and be her own person. That meant acceptance of herself, and she was not sure she was capable of that right now.
Dominique would always be second to her sister. She realized that she needed to make her own path in life. She compensated for her flimsy Veela charm with the natural charm commonly wielded by humans. Be tough, quick of wit and unmatched in the air. Being a little stronger and a little tougher and cutting off her long hair because it looked so much like her. Cutting her hair had been her first step to assuming her own identity and she was uncertain about what the second step actually was.
She wanted to tell Molly that she wished for a relationship like the one shared between Molly and Lucy. Molly made sure Lucy was protected and safe but was able to leave the younger girl alone to breath. Sure there was that issue of Lucy being a nosy, possibly slightly unstable individual, but she was different from Molly and Molly seemed to respect that. She may have been more oblivious to Lucy's moments of questionable thoughts and actions, (or perhaps she was not) but the love there was visible and expressed in an openly respectful way.
Thank Merlin for Molly. Having her as a year mate was stabilizing. Molly made sense, she was reliable, and Molly had no interest in competition of any sort. She wished Victoire was more like Molly, maybe then they would be able to get along better. Though there was still that being absolutely perfect thing.
Every move Victoire made was graceful as if she was floating through the air itself. Dominique just stormed through the world like a rampaging hippogriff and forced her way through air currents and updrafts on a broomstick, and propelled herself through everything else in her life with force and purpose.
She questioned her readiness to move on with her life without subconsciously comparing herself to her sister or anyone else in her family.
"I don't feel good enough sometimes." Dominique finally said, her voice echoed through the room. She could hear Molly sitting up in the bed across the room and saw the faint outline of her wrapping her quilt around her shoulders and leaning back against the wall. "Victoire is… Everything I'm not."
"I see where you're coming from." Molly yawned and burrowed herself deeper in the quilt. "You and Victoire are very different people. Lucy and I are very different too. Lucy and I get along very well because we are so different. I'm sure there are things that you and Vic have in common despite your differences."
Dominique paused, "No, I don't think we have anything in common."
"But would you have it any other way?" She whispered into the dark.
"I wish she was more like you really. You don't force anything on Lucy; you let her be who she is. And you don't treat her like a dress up doll." She cringed at the unfortunate recollections that ran across her mind dragging ribbons and makeup behind them. "You're an excellent sister."
Molly laughed nervously, "I'm glad one of us thinks so."
"What do you mean?"
"Lucy's drifting away from me and everyone else, I'm worried for her and I know there are things she is not telling me. She's never told me her secrets, but I can see the worry on her face." Dominique barely managed not to mention that Lucy was rather pokerfaced most of the time. "She pretends there is nothing wrong, and everyone believes her because she's Lucy, she never has worn her heart on her sleeve." Molly's voice started to shake. "Something is bothering her and she won't tell anyone what it is. She lies to me when I ask; I know she's lying. I want to quit trying to understand, but if I do… I don't want her to think I'm not there for her if she needs me."
Dominique looked at Molly's faint outline in the black room. She could be honest with Molly; it was easy to be truthful with Molly. She was all about understanding others and helping them, even if it was just listening to their problems in silence.
No, Dominique would love to have a different relationship with her sister, but she could not. She did not know what it was like to not feel this inadequate to her perfect sister. Always in the long reach of her shadow. Skirting the edges of her successes and failures.
Dominique's greatest weakness was her self-doubt. It would rise up and consume her body and soul at odd silent moments. She needed to be stronger than her doubts and do as she always had in life. Push her way through bullishly with no regard for consequences. Perhaps this behavior was her pretentious illusion for others, Dominique would rise above her doubts and shed her skin of self doubt.
"Thank you Molly. Goodnight."
"I give up, I give in
To the whole of your skin
(I give up, I give in Am I doing this again?)"
- This Heart, Mary Lambert
Pretense- (definition- A false display of attitudes, feelings or conventions. An attempt to make something that is not the case true.)
Dialogue: "But would you have it any other way?"