[FIC] The Pome and the Pin (part 1/2)
Author: jakuako
Title: The Pome and the Pin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 12,632
Pairing(s): Dominique Weasley/Elladora Longbottom + many canon pairings
Warnings: F/F relationship (though unfortunately no sex)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: The end of another year, another Christmas, another family reunion-Loner Dominique Weasley must trade in her travelling boots for a pair of house shoes as she returns home to celebrate the holidays with the great Weasley horde. But this Christmas is like none other; after meeting the vivacious Elladora Longbottom, Dominique's outlook on life will never be the same.
Prompt: #12: While her mother and sister are the epitome of femininity, Dominique has always been a tomboy (much to her mother’s chagrin). She hadn’t thought much about her sexuality… until she meets Headmaster Longbottom’s daughter. Angst with her parents, sister, and Headmaster Longbottom.
Author Notes: I don't know which I'm having a harder time believing: that I wrote a 12k-word 'one-shot' or that I didn't write in any sex. To my lovely prompter, I hope that's not too disappointing. On the bright side, there's a ton of plot, and honestly, who doesn't like plot? PS. I'm forever grateful to C, my invaluable beta! Thanks to her keen eye for detail (honestly, nothing escapes her!), this fic turned out better than I could have hoped.
--
To say that Dominique Weasley was a bit of a loner would be like saying that Devil's Snare could only survive in dark, damp places-a true and unchangeable fact.
It was for this reason that she had asked to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic instead of Hogwarts with her numerous siblings, cousins, and family friends-a request her mother had been all too pleased to fulfil; and had turned down Tomás Pena when he'd asked her to the end-of-term ball in her third year....and in her fourth....and every year after that; and had taken an immediate liking to Herbology, because the plants didn't expect anything from her except to be watered and fed and given light and bigger pots when they needed them; and had passed up the job offer Hogwarts Headmaster Neville Longbottom had made her, to be a professor at his school; and had become a freelance Herbologist, so that she could travel, see the world, and have minimal contact with her customers.
It was also for this reason that Dominique returned to England at the end of each year; because even though she knew she'd go stir-crazy spending a week in the presence of her mother-who wanted nothing more than for Dominique to settle down and start making babies-and her sister-who had done exactly that the moment she'd left Hogwarts-Dominique couldn't repress the urge to come back to reality after nearly a year in the field, with only Shrivelfig, Puffapod shrubs, Cimmaron trees, and other exotic plants for company.
So on the twenty-fourth evening in December, Dominique said goodbye to the room in Ethiopia she'd been inhabiting between jobs, hired a Portkey from the Ethiopian Ministry of Magic back to London, and Apparated directly into the snow-covered front yard of the Burrow, where she knew-by way of owl from her father-that most of her extended family, along with a few close family friends, were gathering for supper.
"Dominique!" someone shouted the moment she'd appeared, and she was suddenly hit by a soft, warm body.
With a laugh, Dominique grabbed the girl around her waist and hoisted her off the ground for a bear hug.
"I think you're just about too old for that," she said after depositing Lily back on the ground and pulling her cloak tight around her to fend off the frigid cold.
"Fourteen isn't old. Don't tell me you're getting frail already!" Lily complained.
Dominique stooped and put one hand against her lower back, wrinkling up her face in a grimace.
"My back! My back!" she cawed theatrically, and Lily snickered.
Dominique tugged on a lock of Lily's fiery hair, dislodging some of the flakes that had landed in it. Alone of all Dominique's female cousins, Lily, too, had inherited the Weasley hair and freckles.
"What's going on, Little Lily?"
"Nothing," she pouted, "it's been dull waiting for you. I've been playing chess with Hugo but he keeps beating me; Uncle Ron's taught him all the tricks."
"There's no one else to play with?"
"No; Albus disappeared upstairs with Rose as soon as we got here, James cheats, your brother won't play, and everyone else is too old."
"But not me, huh?" Dominique asked.
"Well, aside from your fragile bones...."
"You'll just have to play gentle with me."
Lily snickered again.
"I've got to feed Grandma's chickens," she said, gesturing to the chicken coop. "You might as well go get your hellos over with because you have to tell me all about Antarctica! Were there really penguins everywhere?"
Dominique laughed and ruffled up Lily's hair. Lily had always loved hearing about Dominique's work adventures, so she'd come prepared.
"I'll show you pictures when you get inside," she promised, and left Lily to her task.
As she approached the propped-open kitchen door where light and heat and laughter spilled into the yard, Dominique had to take a moment to gather her courage. Despite feeling happy to see her family again, seeing them all at once was a bit daunting when the only human contact she'd had in the last year were brief interludes with her buyers.
But in her moment of hesitation, she was spotted through the door and suddenly swept inside by a pair of arms, whether she was ready or not.
"Look who's here!"
"It's Dominique!"
"Dominique is here!"
In silence, she endured the shrieks and the hugs and the passing from one embrace to the next through the kitchen; one wet kiss on this cheek, one on that, and then tensed as she was placed before her mother.
"Dominique," she said, in her trilling voice.
"Mother." She offered a tentative smile, and then entered the circle of her mother's arms.
It was a warm place that she didn't often get to enjoy, and she didn't have long to enjoy it now. Out of the living room swept Mother's younger, albeit significantly more rotund clone. Victoire, Dominique's older sister, was pregnant-again.
"Mini!" she said excitedly. And when Dominique hugged her she had to push her hips back and lean forward over Victoire's large stomach.
"How many does this make?" Dominique asked, finally removing her cloak and hanging it on the already-overloaded peg near the door. "You're close to a dozen now, aren't you?"
Victoire's laugh chimed in her ears.
"It's a girl!" she exclaimed, and the radiance of her smile and exaltation in her voice were both completely redundant, for no one had missed the longing she'd been valiantly disguising throughout the births of her three sons.
"Are the Longbottoms here?" Dominique asked the room at large. She knew the Headmaster and his wife-along with the Lovegoods and the Jordans-had been invited tonight, and she was excited to see him. Though she'd declined to work with him, Dominique had always had great respect for Longbottom for all the research he'd done and breakthroughs he'd made in plant breeding before becoming the Hogwarts Headmaster.
"Unfortunately, they owled to say they won't be able to make it tonight," Aunt Hermione said. "Neville ran into some trouble with one of his professors."
"Yeah," her husband agreed with a grin, "suffered a bit of a meltdown in Greenhouse Three, didn't he?"
"It's not funny, Ron," Aunt Hermione scolded. "His own daughter-I'm sure it was quite a shock."
"His daughter?" Dominique asked in confusion. As far as she knew, the Longbottoms didn't see much of their only child-a girl, she'd been told, who was close to her age. She'd dropped out of Hogwarts before her seventh year to travel, if Dominique remembered correctly. Though she saw Longbottom at various times throughout the year when she came to do dealings with his Potions master and Herbology professor, Dominique had never met the girl.
"Elladora Longbottom came home to visit her parents this Christmas," Father explained. "She was spending some time at Hogwarts with Neville, but she, erm...."
"She found someone else to keep her company while Neville was kept busy by Headmaster duties," Uncle George interrupted with a snicker. "His Herbology professor, to be exact."
"Bridget Wood?" Dominique gasped, caught off guard; the last she'd known, Bridget-with whom Dominique had become good friends through business dealings-was recently engaged to a man who worked at the Ministry.
Grandmother went pink in the face and fidgeted nervously with the pile of silver hair atop her head.
"That's enough gossip to be going on with," she said loudly. "I could use a few hands getting supper ready, and the rest of you need to get out of my kitchen!"
The men filed out quickly, mumbling half-hearted excuses about making sure the children were okay, and needing to set up tables and warming charms in the backyard. Mother and Aunt Hermione immediately put on aprons and got to work. Victoire-perfect, lovely Victoire-offered to help, but Grandmother told her to put her feet up, and Dominique was recruited to take her place.
"So, Dominique," Aunt Hermione began as she charmed a kitchen knife to begin chopping vegetables, "how is business?"
"Blooming," Dominique said. "I was out of contact with everyone for nearly a month while I was gathering pearlwort for Paxton in Antarctica, which I was afraid would have some negative repercussions. But when I got back I had a pile of orders to fill, and a new potential client."
"That's excellent."
"'Ow ees Paxton zese days?" Mother said, joining the conversation.
"He's doing well," Dominique replied.
"'As 'e found a wife yet?"
"No, he's single."
"Ze poor man-I suppose you 'ave ruined 'im for all ozzer women, mon chérie." Her laugh tinkled, but Dominique kept her eyes fixed on the fire she was stoking beneath the cauldron of stew. She could see exactly where this conversation was headed unless she took some evasive action.
"Oh, is this Paxton Girard we're talking about?" Victoire chimed in from where she sat at the kitchen table. "I didn't know you were still in touch with him, Dominique."
"Mostly for business," Dominique explained half-heartedly. "He's just accepted the Potion master position at Beauxbatons, and he knew I'd started my own business, so he contacted me."
"'Ow nice zat 'e does not 'old any grudges."
"There's no reason to hold a grudge, Mother, nothing happened between us."
Looking over her shoulder from where she worked at the counter, Mother gave Dominique a disbelieving smile.
"So you say, but you deed see quite a lot of 'im during ze summer before your final year."
"That's because we're friends," Dominique said for what must have been the hundredth time. She glanced desperately around the kitchen for a change of subject and caught Aunt Hermione's eye. She must have seen something in Dominique's expression, because she immediately came to her rescue.
"Did you know that people once believed Harry and I were going together?" she asked with a loud laugh.
"They did not!" Victoire immediately clung to this new piece of gossip. "Were you?"
"I bloody well hope not," a new voice joined in from the entrance to the living room.
Dominique turned to see Aunt Ginny leaning against the doorjamb, her arms folded over her chest and a self-assured smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"Although I always thought Rosie slightly resembles Harry," she teased.
Everyone in the kitchen laughed, and then Victoire began prodding Aunt Hermione for details about the romantic mix-up. Saved, for the time being from more questioning from her mother and sister, Dominique rose from beside the fire and hurried to greet Aunt Ginny, who had always been one of Dominique's favourite aunts.
"Dominique," Aunt Ginny said quietly, offering her a hug. "Still not married?"
Dominique made a face but laughed, recognising the comment as a joke.
Aunt Ginny patted her on the shoulder.
"Don't take it too hard; she's just being a mother," she reasoned. "It's hard to let go of those instincts, even after your children are all grown up."
Following her gaze through the doorway into the other room, Dominique saw her cousin James crouched in a dark corner, using his wand to make Uncle Ron's chess pieces jump out of the way each time he reached for one. Dominique didn't imagine James would ever grow up, so Aunt Ginny really had nothing to worry about.
Still, she tried to imagine it-to put herself in Mother's shoes. She was saved the headache when she heard Grandmother call everyone together for supper.
In one movement, all the family who was settled in the living room and kitchen bustled into the backyard to find seats around the row of tables that had been erected in the garden. Crowded this way under a heavy blanket of warming charms, Dominique spent many hours over-eating, over-drinking, and, for the most part, enjoying her first evening back with her family.
But finally, as the clock struck midnight, Uncle Percy rose and declared that it was time for his family to go home.
"Aw, Dad!" Lucy cried, "It's Christmas! Can't we stay just this once?"
"You won't get presents until you go to sleep," Aunt Audrey reminded her, and Lucy jumped up from her seat, followed closely by Hugo, Albus, and Lily.
"Looks like we're all going," Aunt Hermione laughed. Beside her, Uncle Ron stretched, scratched his belly, and rose to kiss Grandmother on the cheek.
Following the rest of her family's lead, Dominique said her goodbyes.
"We'll see you tomorrow," Aunt Ginny promised as they hugged. "Neville's invited us all to Christmas dinner at Hogwarts."
"Brilliant," Dominique said.
"Come along, Dominique," Mother called from the kitchen doorway.
With a last wave, Dominique accepted a handful of Floo powder from Mother, threw it into the fire, and was whisked back to her childhood home on the outskirts of Tinworth.
Louis and Father were already there, Father's head in the ice box with Louis leaning over his shoulder.
"Still 'ungry?" Mother asked them as she appeared out of the flames behind Dominique.
"Did we finish off the treacle tart?" Father said by way of answer.
"Eet is be'ind ze pot au feu."
"I'm going to turn in," Dominique told the room.
"Wait, Dominique."
Mother followed Dominique down the hall and into her bedroom, which looked untouched since she had last lived in it; the yellow blankets were still folded back on her canopy bed, pictures of her friends were still taped to the mirror over her vanity, and the blue curtains were still parted on the view of a black ocean in the distance. Mother sat on the bed while Dominique pulled her luggage from her pocket, enlarged it, and began to unpack.
"'Ow 'ave zings been going?"
"Really well."
"Communication woss vairy scarce from you for a while."
"Yeah, it's a bit hard to convince an owl to fly in a snow storm."
"I 'ad thought maybe you were too busy to owl. Per'aps you 'ad met someone."
Dominique shrugged and pulled her shirt over her head. On its way off, it caught and tugged her hair out of its ponytail. It cascaded in a red waterfall across her shoulders and over her face, but she ignored it as she put on her pyjamas. When she sat down in front of the mirror to fix her hair, Mother came up behind her, taking the brush from Dominique's hand and pulling it gently through her wild mane.
"You are so beautiful, mon chérie," Mother cooed. "I just know zat zere is a man out zere waiting to sweep you off your feet, just as your fazzer did me."
Laying down the brush, Mother leant to kiss the top of Dominique's head before crossing the room.
"Sweet dreams," she said, and pulled the door closed behind her.
--
Dominique entered the Hogwarts Great Hall for the first time with an expression of awe. While she had been to Hogwarts a handful of times on business, she'd never laid eyes on the famous enchanted ceiling, which possessed all her attention now. When she'd finally pulled her gaze away, she saw that a pair of great round tables had been laid out in the centre of the room, and were already filled with a chaotic mismatch of company.
Family, friends, professors, and a handful of students who had remained for the holidays were mixed haphazardly around the tables: Longbottom's grandmother Augusta-whom Dominique had met once before-was sitting between Teddy and a professor with large spectacles and a plethora of shawls draped around her shoulders; a young professor whom Dominique recognised as a friend of Aunt Hermione's was beside Rose, who seemed to be talking her ear off already; Lee Jordan was shouting across the table to Uncle George, who was bouncing Victoire's youngest son, Maurice, on his knee; a scared-looking boy wearing a snake emblem on his robes was caught between James-who was leering at him-and Uncle Harry-who was reaching around him to swat James on the head. And the one empty seat was between Dominique's mother and a woman who looked to be about Dominique's age, non-obtrusively swirling her food around her plate with her chin in her hand.
"Hello," Dominique said politely as she squeezed into the seat. "I'm Dominique."
"Elladora," the woman said.
"Oh, you're Longbottom-er, the Headmaster's daughter. I've heard a lot about you."
"Only good things, I hope."
Recalling the last thing she'd heard, Dominique glanced automatically across the table at Bridget Wood, who was in conversation with a man who looked so similar to her that he could only be her father.
"Yes." Dominique nodded, and busied herself with piling food on her plate.
"I've heard of you, too," Elladora said, as if just remembering.
"From whom?"
"Well, I knew your sister at Hogwarts," Elladora listed. "Dad talks about you sometimes, Bridget, Paxton-"
"Paxton Girard? You know Paxton?"
"I know a lot of people. You do, too, it seems. Or at least, a lot of people know you."
"It's my job." Dominique shrugged.
"Oh, that's right, you're a travelling saleswoman."
"I'm a what?"
"Nothing, just a Muggle term."
"Oh."
Dominique wasn't sure what to say anymore, so she took a large bite out of a drumstick and took her time chewing.
Elladora went back to swirling her food.
"Dominique," Mother said, turning away from the person on her other side, "'Ave you met zis young man? 'E is a seventh year student at 'Ogwarts. 'E woss just telling me 'ow much 'e likes Herbology."
She leant back to allow Dominique a view of the boy Mother had been talking to. He grinned impishly at her and ran a hand through his black hair.
"It's a pleasure," he said.
"Would you like to switch seats with me?" Mother offered.
"Erm...."
"Hello," Elladora interrupted, leaning around Dominique to offer Mother a sudden charming smile. "You must be Dominique's mother. She looks just like you."
"'Oo are you?" Mother asked, caught off guard.
"Elladora Longbottom-nice to meet you."
"Oh, you are Elladora."
"I take it you've heard of me." Elladora continued to smile blindingly, and Dominique stared. "I can't imagine what my father could be saying to all of you lovely people about me."
"Neville 'as nuzzing but good to say," Mother assured her politely.
"I'm sure if you prodded him you could get some bad out," Elladora joked.
Mother's laughter tinkled, but she turned away quickly. She must be remembering the gossip from the night before, too. While Mother had never been against homosexuality, the perfect family image-husband, wife, and an armful of children-was too deeply ingrained in her for her to be comfortable with the idea.
"You're welcome," Elladora whispered in Dominique's ear, and Dominique shivered despite herself.
When she turned to face her, Elladora's blinding smile had become a small, knowing grin.
"Sorry?"
"For saving you from what, I'm sure, would be an awkward situation. I know. My mum used to do the same thing, and I always had the same look on my face when she did. Eventually, I just came right out and told her I didn't like blokes."
"Er, right," Dominique said.
"So, Bridget was telling me yesterday that you just returned from Alaska. That must have been fun."
Again, Dominique couldn't stop herself from glancing across at Bridget. She wanted to ask her when she'd called off her engagement with the Ministry man-what was his name?
"Oh, I get it!" Elladora suddenly said, slapping her hand down on the table.
Dominique jumped.
"You get what?" she asked.
"Why you all have heard of me-I know now. Every time I say her name you get this weird look on your face."
"Who's name? What are you talking about?"
"Bridget-there! You got that look again. You know what happened-Well, you don't know, you only think you do."
"Excuse me?" Dominique bristled, slightly offended. "It doesn't take a genius to guess what you two were doing alone together."
Elladora shook her head.
"And here I thought you and Bridget were close friends."
"We are!"
"If you were, then you'd know she's engaged....to a man."
"Well, she had told me, I just-"
"You thought maybe she'd called it off. Or did you think she was just fooling around before the actual I do's?"
"I don't know," Dominique mumbled, shamed.
"Just because a woman prefers the company of other women doesn't mean she can't have female friends."
Dominique nodded, unsure what to say.
"So your mum probably thinks I'm a tramp, huh?"
Glancing up hastily to defend her mother, she saw that Elladora was smiling.
"Are you going to tell me about Alaska?" she asked.
"It was Antarctica, actually," Dominique corrected.
"Of course, that's what Bridget said. Why Antarctica?"
"It's the only place in the world where a particular breed of pearlwort grows. I was gathering some for Paxton-"
"Pain in the arse, if there ever was one."
Dominique laughed. Usually, no one dared insult Paxton, who-while often gentle and even effeminate-was extremely large and threatening, with biceps as big around as Dominique's thigh.
"Well, the Portkey took me to this tiny hut in the middle of a frozen lake completely on the wrong side of the continent from where I needed to be...."
Talking with Elladora came as easily to Dominique as caring for a Flitterbloom. She was an encouraging listener and an entertaining storyteller, and the time passed more quickly than Dominique could imagine. Before she knew it, the great hall had mostly emptied as students trickled out to play in the snow, professors had gone off to visit loved ones outside the castle walls, and families with small children had gone home to relax for the remainder of the afternoon.
Dominique was just listening to Elladora tell her about the first time she'd met Victoire at Hogwarts-which entailed a runaway Niffler and a misplaced sticking charm-when Longbottom came up behind Elladora and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Ah, the famous Niffler catastrophe," he said, grinning the exact same grin he'd passed on to his daughter. "Except you've remembered wrong, Ella; it was the portrait of Sir Cadogan that went missing, not Barnabus the Barmy."
"Professor," Dominique said, rising quickly to shake his hand. "It's nice to see you again."
To Dominique's simultaneous embarrassment and pleasure, Longbottom pulled her into a brief hug.
"I hope you're well, Dominique," he said. "It seems like all anyone has been talking about is your trip to Antarctica. We've all been worried for your safety."
Dominique smiled shyly.
"Oh, it wasn't anything, really-almost dull."
"Bloody under-exaggeration," Elladora corrected. "She's just been telling me about her trip. I think I'll need to add Antarctica to my 'to do' list."
"I hope you won't be running off again too soon," Longbottom said. "Have you told Dominique about your plans, Ella?"
"My plans?"
"You're so forgetful sometimes." He chuckled. "Your career plans, I mean."
Elladora seemed almost to shut down.
"Oh, those plans. No, I haven't." She offered no further information. Instead, for the first time since Dominique had met her, Elladora rose from the table, and Dominique was able to really see her.
She was much taller than Dominique, and her long, slender legs were mostly responsible. Beneath her plain black robes was a mismatched Muggle outfit that looked deliberately haphazard, the same way that her chestnut curls looked artistically messy tossed about her long neck and cascading over her ample chest.
Dominique couldn't help but despair. Elladora was as arresting as Dominique was plain.
Longbottom spoke again, interrupting Dominique's thoughts.
"Ella is moving back home to take on a job here at Hogwarts," he told Dominique proudly. "Librarian-our dear Madam Pince is retiring."
Dominique had to clench her jaw to keep it from dropping. Even with how little she knew Elladora, she couldn't picture the woman settled behind a high desk, surrounded by dusty old tomes, hissing at students who got too loud. And her doubts were only intensified by Elladora's obviously forced expression of anticipation.
"Should be brilliant," she said, her voice lacking the animation she'd been speaking with only moments ago.
"Hannah and I are pleased to have her back. She's been travelling for a long time."
Longbottom smiled at her with a distant sort of fondness, then patted her cheek and left to flag down Dominique's Grandmother and Grandfather before they could leave.
"So, librarian," Dominique said, hoping to gain some insight into the choice.
"Want to get a drink?"
"Sorry?"
"A drink. All Dad will allow here is Butterbeer, and I could use something a mite stronger."
"Erm, sure. Yeah, I'd love a drink."
"Splendid."
As Dominique followed Elladora out of the hall, she caught her mother's eye. Luckily, Mother was being accosted by Luna Lovegood, and so couldn't call her back, because Dominique was sure the drawn expression on her face couldn't mean she had anything to say that Dominique wanted to hear.
"Where are we going-Hogsmeade?"
"No, that's much too close. Have you heard of a pub called Boondoggles?"
"No."
"I wouldn't think so; it's in Ireland."
"You want to go for a drink in Ireland?"
"Have you ever had Irish Firewhiskey?
"I've never had any Firewhiskey."
"Blimey."
"We'll have to take a Portkey," Dominique murmured to herself.
"Don't worry, I'll pay," Elladora said, unworried.
But it wasn't the cost of a Portkey hire that made Dominique hesitate; it was the fact that she'd never gone out of the country simply for a drink. It was outrageous-it was sort of exciting.
Elladora suddenly scoffed.
"I can't believe you've never tasted Firewhiskey."
"I'm not much of a drinker," Dominique said, slightly defensive.
They were at the Hogwarts gates now, and Elladora spun back around as she passed through them.
"That's alright," she replied. "We'll find something to please you."
Wrapping her hand around Dominique's wrist, Elladora tugged her closer and pulled her into a twist. The air closed in around them, forcing them tighter together, and then they landed on hard earth, and the busy sounds of downtown London filled Dominique's ears.
"What's the number?" Elladora asked as she led the way to the tiny, red booth that Dominique remembered was the guest entry to the Ministry. They squeezed in together.
"I've no idea." Dominique looked up, to the right, out the window at the dirty rubbish bin beside them-anywhere but at Elladora, whose was pressed, chest to knee, against her.
"Never mind, I remember."
Elladora picked up the Muggle device on the wall, punched a few numbers on the pad, and spoke their names into the receiver. And down they went. When they reached the Atrium and Dominique toppled out of the box, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She'd never been a very physical person, and being so near to someone little less than a stranger was uncomfortable.
She contemplated this character flaw as Elladora spoke to the Ministry employee at the Portkey desk.
"Bugger," Elladora said. "I forgot I need a wand to hire a Portkey."
"You don't have your wand?"
Instead of answering, Elladora gestured to the man waiting impatiently behind the desk.
"Would you mind?" she asked. "I'll still pay, but it'll have to be in your name."
Still musing over the fact that Elladora was completely unarmed and seemingly comfortable with it, Dominique filled out the short request form and offered her wand as identification. Finally, they were offered an old Muggle newspaper that swept them across the Irish Sea in the blink of an eye. When they landed on solid ground again, the familiar aroma of salt and sand filled Dominique's lungs.
"Hurry," Elladora said. "Travel makes me thirsty."
"Why do I get the feeling that lots of things make you thirsty?"
Elladora turned back to wink at Dominique, and then led the way into a small pub on the side of a sandy road.
"So how exactly does a witch forget her wand?" Dominique asked over their first round of drinks. Elladora had ordered them both a shot of some very strong Firewhiskey, and a tall mug of ale.
"I haven't had it for almost a month now; I just forgot it would be necessary for Portkey hire. I've been travelling the International Floo Network for too long-cheaper, you know, but much less comfortable, and-"
"A month?"Dominique exclaimed, interrupting Elladora's comparison of magical transportation. "How could you possibly survive without a wand for a month?"
"It's easy," Elladora said. "Muggles do it all the time."
"B-but they're Muggles. They have to live like that.... Hang on! You Apparated us to the Ministry," Dominique remembered.
"I used your wand," Elladora said casually, as she waved down the young wizard tending the bar for another shot.
"You what?"
"I reached into your pocket and held your wand. I hope you don't mind."
Dominique considered being offended by the breach in personal space, but at the moment it just seemed funny to her. As she threw back her second shot, she noticed that a lot of things were beginning to seem funny.
"I still don't understand how you haven't gone mad without a wand," she said.
"It's a nice change, actually, from relying on magic. You should try it some time."
"I'll take your word for it."
Elladora shrugged and drank deeply from her mug.
"How did you lose it, anyway?"
"I'm not sure," Elladora said, then she leaned forward and her voice was permeated with that excitement that told Dominique a good story was on the way. "See, I was trekking through the Congo rainforest...."
The story took them through an old shamaness's hut, where Elladora was waylaid for three days because the shamaness was convinced that if she left Death would find her-to a Grindylow-infested swamp, where Death almost did find her-to a forgotten and crumbling village built above the ground in a forest of Cimmaron trees, where she unwittingly stepped into a magical portal to a remote island off the coast of Mozambique-which, inadvertently, took a long, arduous journey to find her way back.
"....So you see," Elladora concluded, as she polished off her third drink. "I have it narrowed down to that fifteen-kilometre stretch of the Congo River, I'm just not exactly sure at which point I lost it."
Dominique didn't know whether to stare wide-eyed or to laugh, so she settled for a mixture of both.
"At Beauxbatons," she said, beginning to slur her words together, "If we misbehaved, they took away our wands. What'd they do to you if they knew you got on jus' fine without yours?"
Elladora grinned.
"Then again, that punishment only came about 'n my seventh year, by which time you'd already dropped outta school."
"Ah, so I wouldn't have had to suffer after all," Elladora joked.
"Why did you quit Hogwarts?"
"Why did you go to Beauxbatons?"
"That's easy-my mother."
Dominique took a huge swig of her drink.
"She made you go?"
"No, I asked to go."
"I don't understand."
"Victoire."
"What about her?"
All of the sudden, Dominique's thoughts blurred together, and she blinked at Elladora.
"Who?"
"Victoire-you said 'Victoire.' What about her?"
"Oh, what about Victoire! The question is, what not about Victoire!"
"You're not making sense."
"I'm not?"
Dominique squinted at Elladora and attempted to figure out what she was trying to say.
"Let me guess," Elladora interrupted her thoughts. "Victoire always outshined you, so you wanted to get away-be your own person. And in the process you just happened to please your mum."
Dominique reeled back.
"How'd you know that?" she demanded.
"You don't have to be a genius to guess what having Victoire Weasley as a sister would do to a person."
Shaking her head back and forth, Dominique tried to make sense of what Elladora had just said. She settled instead on taking another swig of her drink.
"Anyway," she said, "Turns out it didn't matter what school I went to; I can't please Mother."
"No?"
"No matter what I do, s'not as important as finding a husband-which I haven't done." Dominique waggled the bare fingers of her left hand at Elladora. "S'all that's important to her-that I meet someone."
"Sounds like she only wants what's best for you."
"Yeah, well maybe your mother only wants what's best for you."
"What does my mum have to do with anything?"
"I dunno."
Dominique suddenly sobbed into her hands.
"Sounds like you need another drink," Elladora said, and she flagged down the barkeep.
Dominique peeked between her fingers as he refilled her mug.
"Marry me?" she asked him, her words obstructed by her hands.
"Pardon?" he said in a cute Irish accent.
Dominique examined his floppy hair, scruffy face, plain t-shirt pulled around impressive muscles, low-slung jeans on narrow hips-and turned back to Elladora.
"How d'ya make your hair do that?" she asked.
"Do what?" Elladora asked between huge gulps of her drink.
"Scream that you just had fantastic sex."
Elladora snorted into her mug, and a small giggle escaped Dominique.
Two drinks later, she was swaying in her seat.
"So wud're ya researching?" she asked Elladora, who had finally caught up with Dominique's drink count and was whistling tunelessly as she tried to touch the tip of her nose with one finger.
"Wazzat?"
"At Wogharts-I mean Hogtarts. 'At's why you agreed ta be the new librarian, innit? 'Ere's no better library in the world."
"'M not sea-searching."
"No, researching."
"O-oh!"
Elladora dissolved into laughter, and Dominique snorted, spraying ale across the countertop.
"A'no, my drink!"
"More drink!" Elladora cried, waving over the barkeep yet again.
"That's it ladies," he said. "I'm cuttin' ya off."
"I'll turn you into a toad!" Elladora screeched, pounding her fist on the bar. "Donimique, gimme yer wand."
Dominique looked into her mug.
"I can't find it," she said with a frown.
"I'll call ya a cabbie," the bartender offered. "Where d'ya live?"
"I live wherever the wind takes me!" Dominique declared.
"I live in London," Elladora pouted.
"Oh yeah, 'at's where I live, too."
"London? Ya came all the way from England, did'ja?" Shaking his head, the bartender came around the bar and offered Dominique his hand. "Well, yer too far gone ta get yerselves a Portkey. There's me spare room above; if ya don' mind sharin' with each other ya can stay fer the night."
"Does it have a bed?" Dominique asked, taking his hand and standing on wobbly legs. She hardly noticed when Elladora dropped her forehead down on the bar top and stayed that way.
"O' course it does."
"Izzit a soft bed?"
"I haven' slept on it meself."
"I hope itssoft," Dominique mumbled.
Sitting alone in the strange bedroom, waiting for the barkeep to help Elladora up the stairs, Dominique started shedding clothes to get more comfortable. It turned out to be a more difficult task than she had anticipated. Within moments she was thoroughly tangled in her jumper-her arms stuck above her head and her shirt inevitably riding further up her stomach the more she tugged-when she heard Elladora outside the door.
"I got it-I got it! S'not like I'm pissed or anythin'."
The door creaked open, then slammed closed, and someone released a small puff of breath.
"Wow," Elladora said.
"Help!" Dominique squeaked.
A pair of hands helped her out of her jumper, and Dominique collapsed on her back on the bed, her head spinning.
"Dominique," Elladora said, sounding suddenly less drunk.
Dominique looked up and saw that some new emotion had burned away the giggling and stumbling and slurring.
"I could show you how I get my hair to look like this."
The way Elladora looked at her made something stir, like the trembling of a Flutterby bush, deep inside her. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and for a moment, everything seemed incredibly serious.
And then she couldn't stop the giggles. She collapsed again, clutching at her chest, trying to breathe, and she couldn't remember the moment when the hysteria wore away and exhaustion set in.
--
The next morning Dominique was woken by the sun streaming in the window.
Groaning quietly, she pulled a pillow over her eyes and rolled over. But she was surprised when she rolled into a body.
Beside her, someone grumbled and nudged her back onto her side of the bed.
Peeking out from under the pillow, Dominique saw a mane of wild curls spilled across the bed, a bare arm thrown over a pale face, a long leg poking out from under the covers, the toes curling and stretching, and the night came back to her. She collapsed onto her back with a sigh, staring up at the unfamiliar open beam ceiling.
"I remember now why I don't drink," she mumbled, her words still a little slurred.
Elladora grunted, but said nothing.
"This bed is pretty soft," Dominique observed.
Elladora was silent.
Glancing sideways, Dominique saw that Elladora was staring upwards, too. Her lips were pursed together, and her face was drawn into a solemn mask.
"I'm sick, Dominique," she said to the ceiling.
"I know, I am, too. Do you think you're going to vomit? Maybe there's a rubbish bin around here somewhere."
"No."
"Oh, just a headache, then? That's what I have."
"No. I mean I'm ill-I'm dying."
Dominique laughed, hesitant and raspy.
"It's just a hangover, Elladora."
"It's not that. It's Vanishing Sickness."
"What?"
"I have Vanishing Sickness."
"B-but...." Dominique sat up ramrod straight, hardly noticing the way the room spun and her head throbbed as she stared down at Elladora with wide eyes. "But that's contagious!"
Elladora sat up, too, more slowly.
"I'm not contagious anymore. I wouldn't do that to you, or my parents, or anyone else I've been in contact with. I did my research. It's only contagious in the beginning stages."
"H-how long have you known?"
"A year next month."
"A year? Why haven't you gone to St. Mungo's?"
Elladora scoffed and turned away, rolling out of bed and taking her robes off the chair by the window.
"St. Mungo's-what can they do for me? There's no cure."
"They can.... They can.... You should still go."
Elladora shrugged.
"I'd rather not spend the rest of my life in a hospital bed."
She pulled her robes on and dragged her fingers through her hair as she watched Dominique thoughtfully.
"You were right-that's why I've come back. I depleted my resources outside England, and now I'm turning to the Hogwarts library for help. I'm not giving up on myself, Dominique."
Dominique nodded, and then something occurred to her as she remembered the way Longbottom had joked casually about Elladora's forgetfulness.
"Your parents don't know, do they?"
Elladora shook her head.
"And I'd really love it if you wouldn't tell them."
"But why tell me?" Dominique demanded.
Elladora laughed, and Dominique was more shocked by this reaction than by the revelation that Elladora was dying.
"I dunno. I like you. You're intelligent and understanding. You make me want to tell you things."
"I do?"
"You think you're this anti-social recluse, but you're the most amiable person I've ever known."
"I am?"
A small smile curled Elladora's lips.
"Let me buy you a coffee. It's much better for hangovers than tea."
Dominique chewed her lip for a moment, then got out of bed and stepped into her boots, finding her own robe hanging on the door.
"Thanks, but I should be getting back. My mother is probably going mad not knowing where I am." Dominique forced a laugh. "I don't think she'll ever see me as an adult."
"I understand," Elladora said. "Will I see you again before you leave?"
Turning back at the door, Dominique studied Elladora. She was so pretty it made Dominique remember her jealous childhood growing up with Victoire, who turned everyone she met into a blubbering mess. But Elladora made Dominique uncomfortable in a way Victoire never had. Still, how could she abandon Elladora after she'd confided in her?
"We'll see," Dominique finally said. Then she turned and left.
It was three days later when Dominique received an owl.
Dominique, it said, I shouldn't have asked you to keep my secret for me, and for that I'm sorry. I know you're only in town for a week, and you should spend it with your family; don't think about me. Well wishes and safe travels, E.
"'Oo is eet from?" Mother asked over her breakfast.
"No one," Dominique lied, pocketing the letter. "Just another job."
To her surprise, Mother hadn't asked where Dominique had gone Christmas night. Instead, the two skirted carefully around the topic of her disappearance, neither apparently willing to broach the subject first. Dominique couldn't figure out what it meant, but she guessed that Mother was worried that she might hear something she didn't want to. And strangely enough, Dominique didn't feel the need to reassure her.
"Will you accept eet?"
"I don't know. I already have quite a few jobs lined up."
"So you will be leaving soon."
It wasn't a question, so Dominique didn't bother to answer it.
[Read Part 2]
Title: The Pome and the Pin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 12,632
Pairing(s): Dominique Weasley/Elladora Longbottom + many canon pairings
Warnings: F/F relationship (though unfortunately no sex)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: The end of another year, another Christmas, another family reunion-Loner Dominique Weasley must trade in her travelling boots for a pair of house shoes as she returns home to celebrate the holidays with the great Weasley horde. But this Christmas is like none other; after meeting the vivacious Elladora Longbottom, Dominique's outlook on life will never be the same.
Prompt: #12: While her mother and sister are the epitome of femininity, Dominique has always been a tomboy (much to her mother’s chagrin). She hadn’t thought much about her sexuality… until she meets Headmaster Longbottom’s daughter. Angst with her parents, sister, and Headmaster Longbottom.
Author Notes: I don't know which I'm having a harder time believing: that I wrote a 12k-word 'one-shot' or that I didn't write in any sex. To my lovely prompter, I hope that's not too disappointing. On the bright side, there's a ton of plot, and honestly, who doesn't like plot? PS. I'm forever grateful to C, my invaluable beta! Thanks to her keen eye for detail (honestly, nothing escapes her!), this fic turned out better than I could have hoped.
--
To say that Dominique Weasley was a bit of a loner would be like saying that Devil's Snare could only survive in dark, damp places-a true and unchangeable fact.
It was for this reason that she had asked to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic instead of Hogwarts with her numerous siblings, cousins, and family friends-a request her mother had been all too pleased to fulfil; and had turned down Tomás Pena when he'd asked her to the end-of-term ball in her third year....and in her fourth....and every year after that; and had taken an immediate liking to Herbology, because the plants didn't expect anything from her except to be watered and fed and given light and bigger pots when they needed them; and had passed up the job offer Hogwarts Headmaster Neville Longbottom had made her, to be a professor at his school; and had become a freelance Herbologist, so that she could travel, see the world, and have minimal contact with her customers.
It was also for this reason that Dominique returned to England at the end of each year; because even though she knew she'd go stir-crazy spending a week in the presence of her mother-who wanted nothing more than for Dominique to settle down and start making babies-and her sister-who had done exactly that the moment she'd left Hogwarts-Dominique couldn't repress the urge to come back to reality after nearly a year in the field, with only Shrivelfig, Puffapod shrubs, Cimmaron trees, and other exotic plants for company.
So on the twenty-fourth evening in December, Dominique said goodbye to the room in Ethiopia she'd been inhabiting between jobs, hired a Portkey from the Ethiopian Ministry of Magic back to London, and Apparated directly into the snow-covered front yard of the Burrow, where she knew-by way of owl from her father-that most of her extended family, along with a few close family friends, were gathering for supper.
"Dominique!" someone shouted the moment she'd appeared, and she was suddenly hit by a soft, warm body.
With a laugh, Dominique grabbed the girl around her waist and hoisted her off the ground for a bear hug.
"I think you're just about too old for that," she said after depositing Lily back on the ground and pulling her cloak tight around her to fend off the frigid cold.
"Fourteen isn't old. Don't tell me you're getting frail already!" Lily complained.
Dominique stooped and put one hand against her lower back, wrinkling up her face in a grimace.
"My back! My back!" she cawed theatrically, and Lily snickered.
Dominique tugged on a lock of Lily's fiery hair, dislodging some of the flakes that had landed in it. Alone of all Dominique's female cousins, Lily, too, had inherited the Weasley hair and freckles.
"What's going on, Little Lily?"
"Nothing," she pouted, "it's been dull waiting for you. I've been playing chess with Hugo but he keeps beating me; Uncle Ron's taught him all the tricks."
"There's no one else to play with?"
"No; Albus disappeared upstairs with Rose as soon as we got here, James cheats, your brother won't play, and everyone else is too old."
"But not me, huh?" Dominique asked.
"Well, aside from your fragile bones...."
"You'll just have to play gentle with me."
Lily snickered again.
"I've got to feed Grandma's chickens," she said, gesturing to the chicken coop. "You might as well go get your hellos over with because you have to tell me all about Antarctica! Were there really penguins everywhere?"
Dominique laughed and ruffled up Lily's hair. Lily had always loved hearing about Dominique's work adventures, so she'd come prepared.
"I'll show you pictures when you get inside," she promised, and left Lily to her task.
As she approached the propped-open kitchen door where light and heat and laughter spilled into the yard, Dominique had to take a moment to gather her courage. Despite feeling happy to see her family again, seeing them all at once was a bit daunting when the only human contact she'd had in the last year were brief interludes with her buyers.
But in her moment of hesitation, she was spotted through the door and suddenly swept inside by a pair of arms, whether she was ready or not.
"Look who's here!"
"It's Dominique!"
"Dominique is here!"
In silence, she endured the shrieks and the hugs and the passing from one embrace to the next through the kitchen; one wet kiss on this cheek, one on that, and then tensed as she was placed before her mother.
"Dominique," she said, in her trilling voice.
"Mother." She offered a tentative smile, and then entered the circle of her mother's arms.
It was a warm place that she didn't often get to enjoy, and she didn't have long to enjoy it now. Out of the living room swept Mother's younger, albeit significantly more rotund clone. Victoire, Dominique's older sister, was pregnant-again.
"Mini!" she said excitedly. And when Dominique hugged her she had to push her hips back and lean forward over Victoire's large stomach.
"How many does this make?" Dominique asked, finally removing her cloak and hanging it on the already-overloaded peg near the door. "You're close to a dozen now, aren't you?"
Victoire's laugh chimed in her ears.
"It's a girl!" she exclaimed, and the radiance of her smile and exaltation in her voice were both completely redundant, for no one had missed the longing she'd been valiantly disguising throughout the births of her three sons.
"Are the Longbottoms here?" Dominique asked the room at large. She knew the Headmaster and his wife-along with the Lovegoods and the Jordans-had been invited tonight, and she was excited to see him. Though she'd declined to work with him, Dominique had always had great respect for Longbottom for all the research he'd done and breakthroughs he'd made in plant breeding before becoming the Hogwarts Headmaster.
"Unfortunately, they owled to say they won't be able to make it tonight," Aunt Hermione said. "Neville ran into some trouble with one of his professors."
"Yeah," her husband agreed with a grin, "suffered a bit of a meltdown in Greenhouse Three, didn't he?"
"It's not funny, Ron," Aunt Hermione scolded. "His own daughter-I'm sure it was quite a shock."
"His daughter?" Dominique asked in confusion. As far as she knew, the Longbottoms didn't see much of their only child-a girl, she'd been told, who was close to her age. She'd dropped out of Hogwarts before her seventh year to travel, if Dominique remembered correctly. Though she saw Longbottom at various times throughout the year when she came to do dealings with his Potions master and Herbology professor, Dominique had never met the girl.
"Elladora Longbottom came home to visit her parents this Christmas," Father explained. "She was spending some time at Hogwarts with Neville, but she, erm...."
"She found someone else to keep her company while Neville was kept busy by Headmaster duties," Uncle George interrupted with a snicker. "His Herbology professor, to be exact."
"Bridget Wood?" Dominique gasped, caught off guard; the last she'd known, Bridget-with whom Dominique had become good friends through business dealings-was recently engaged to a man who worked at the Ministry.
Grandmother went pink in the face and fidgeted nervously with the pile of silver hair atop her head.
"That's enough gossip to be going on with," she said loudly. "I could use a few hands getting supper ready, and the rest of you need to get out of my kitchen!"
The men filed out quickly, mumbling half-hearted excuses about making sure the children were okay, and needing to set up tables and warming charms in the backyard. Mother and Aunt Hermione immediately put on aprons and got to work. Victoire-perfect, lovely Victoire-offered to help, but Grandmother told her to put her feet up, and Dominique was recruited to take her place.
"So, Dominique," Aunt Hermione began as she charmed a kitchen knife to begin chopping vegetables, "how is business?"
"Blooming," Dominique said. "I was out of contact with everyone for nearly a month while I was gathering pearlwort for Paxton in Antarctica, which I was afraid would have some negative repercussions. But when I got back I had a pile of orders to fill, and a new potential client."
"That's excellent."
"'Ow ees Paxton zese days?" Mother said, joining the conversation.
"He's doing well," Dominique replied.
"'As 'e found a wife yet?"
"No, he's single."
"Ze poor man-I suppose you 'ave ruined 'im for all ozzer women, mon chérie." Her laugh tinkled, but Dominique kept her eyes fixed on the fire she was stoking beneath the cauldron of stew. She could see exactly where this conversation was headed unless she took some evasive action.
"Oh, is this Paxton Girard we're talking about?" Victoire chimed in from where she sat at the kitchen table. "I didn't know you were still in touch with him, Dominique."
"Mostly for business," Dominique explained half-heartedly. "He's just accepted the Potion master position at Beauxbatons, and he knew I'd started my own business, so he contacted me."
"'Ow nice zat 'e does not 'old any grudges."
"There's no reason to hold a grudge, Mother, nothing happened between us."
Looking over her shoulder from where she worked at the counter, Mother gave Dominique a disbelieving smile.
"So you say, but you deed see quite a lot of 'im during ze summer before your final year."
"That's because we're friends," Dominique said for what must have been the hundredth time. She glanced desperately around the kitchen for a change of subject and caught Aunt Hermione's eye. She must have seen something in Dominique's expression, because she immediately came to her rescue.
"Did you know that people once believed Harry and I were going together?" she asked with a loud laugh.
"They did not!" Victoire immediately clung to this new piece of gossip. "Were you?"
"I bloody well hope not," a new voice joined in from the entrance to the living room.
Dominique turned to see Aunt Ginny leaning against the doorjamb, her arms folded over her chest and a self-assured smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"Although I always thought Rosie slightly resembles Harry," she teased.
Everyone in the kitchen laughed, and then Victoire began prodding Aunt Hermione for details about the romantic mix-up. Saved, for the time being from more questioning from her mother and sister, Dominique rose from beside the fire and hurried to greet Aunt Ginny, who had always been one of Dominique's favourite aunts.
"Dominique," Aunt Ginny said quietly, offering her a hug. "Still not married?"
Dominique made a face but laughed, recognising the comment as a joke.
Aunt Ginny patted her on the shoulder.
"Don't take it too hard; she's just being a mother," she reasoned. "It's hard to let go of those instincts, even after your children are all grown up."
Following her gaze through the doorway into the other room, Dominique saw her cousin James crouched in a dark corner, using his wand to make Uncle Ron's chess pieces jump out of the way each time he reached for one. Dominique didn't imagine James would ever grow up, so Aunt Ginny really had nothing to worry about.
Still, she tried to imagine it-to put herself in Mother's shoes. She was saved the headache when she heard Grandmother call everyone together for supper.
In one movement, all the family who was settled in the living room and kitchen bustled into the backyard to find seats around the row of tables that had been erected in the garden. Crowded this way under a heavy blanket of warming charms, Dominique spent many hours over-eating, over-drinking, and, for the most part, enjoying her first evening back with her family.
But finally, as the clock struck midnight, Uncle Percy rose and declared that it was time for his family to go home.
"Aw, Dad!" Lucy cried, "It's Christmas! Can't we stay just this once?"
"You won't get presents until you go to sleep," Aunt Audrey reminded her, and Lucy jumped up from her seat, followed closely by Hugo, Albus, and Lily.
"Looks like we're all going," Aunt Hermione laughed. Beside her, Uncle Ron stretched, scratched his belly, and rose to kiss Grandmother on the cheek.
Following the rest of her family's lead, Dominique said her goodbyes.
"We'll see you tomorrow," Aunt Ginny promised as they hugged. "Neville's invited us all to Christmas dinner at Hogwarts."
"Brilliant," Dominique said.
"Come along, Dominique," Mother called from the kitchen doorway.
With a last wave, Dominique accepted a handful of Floo powder from Mother, threw it into the fire, and was whisked back to her childhood home on the outskirts of Tinworth.
Louis and Father were already there, Father's head in the ice box with Louis leaning over his shoulder.
"Still 'ungry?" Mother asked them as she appeared out of the flames behind Dominique.
"Did we finish off the treacle tart?" Father said by way of answer.
"Eet is be'ind ze pot au feu."
"I'm going to turn in," Dominique told the room.
"Wait, Dominique."
Mother followed Dominique down the hall and into her bedroom, which looked untouched since she had last lived in it; the yellow blankets were still folded back on her canopy bed, pictures of her friends were still taped to the mirror over her vanity, and the blue curtains were still parted on the view of a black ocean in the distance. Mother sat on the bed while Dominique pulled her luggage from her pocket, enlarged it, and began to unpack.
"'Ow 'ave zings been going?"
"Really well."
"Communication woss vairy scarce from you for a while."
"Yeah, it's a bit hard to convince an owl to fly in a snow storm."
"I 'ad thought maybe you were too busy to owl. Per'aps you 'ad met someone."
Dominique shrugged and pulled her shirt over her head. On its way off, it caught and tugged her hair out of its ponytail. It cascaded in a red waterfall across her shoulders and over her face, but she ignored it as she put on her pyjamas. When she sat down in front of the mirror to fix her hair, Mother came up behind her, taking the brush from Dominique's hand and pulling it gently through her wild mane.
"You are so beautiful, mon chérie," Mother cooed. "I just know zat zere is a man out zere waiting to sweep you off your feet, just as your fazzer did me."
Laying down the brush, Mother leant to kiss the top of Dominique's head before crossing the room.
"Sweet dreams," she said, and pulled the door closed behind her.
--
Dominique entered the Hogwarts Great Hall for the first time with an expression of awe. While she had been to Hogwarts a handful of times on business, she'd never laid eyes on the famous enchanted ceiling, which possessed all her attention now. When she'd finally pulled her gaze away, she saw that a pair of great round tables had been laid out in the centre of the room, and were already filled with a chaotic mismatch of company.
Family, friends, professors, and a handful of students who had remained for the holidays were mixed haphazardly around the tables: Longbottom's grandmother Augusta-whom Dominique had met once before-was sitting between Teddy and a professor with large spectacles and a plethora of shawls draped around her shoulders; a young professor whom Dominique recognised as a friend of Aunt Hermione's was beside Rose, who seemed to be talking her ear off already; Lee Jordan was shouting across the table to Uncle George, who was bouncing Victoire's youngest son, Maurice, on his knee; a scared-looking boy wearing a snake emblem on his robes was caught between James-who was leering at him-and Uncle Harry-who was reaching around him to swat James on the head. And the one empty seat was between Dominique's mother and a woman who looked to be about Dominique's age, non-obtrusively swirling her food around her plate with her chin in her hand.
"Hello," Dominique said politely as she squeezed into the seat. "I'm Dominique."
"Elladora," the woman said.
"Oh, you're Longbottom-er, the Headmaster's daughter. I've heard a lot about you."
"Only good things, I hope."
Recalling the last thing she'd heard, Dominique glanced automatically across the table at Bridget Wood, who was in conversation with a man who looked so similar to her that he could only be her father.
"Yes." Dominique nodded, and busied herself with piling food on her plate.
"I've heard of you, too," Elladora said, as if just remembering.
"From whom?"
"Well, I knew your sister at Hogwarts," Elladora listed. "Dad talks about you sometimes, Bridget, Paxton-"
"Paxton Girard? You know Paxton?"
"I know a lot of people. You do, too, it seems. Or at least, a lot of people know you."
"It's my job." Dominique shrugged.
"Oh, that's right, you're a travelling saleswoman."
"I'm a what?"
"Nothing, just a Muggle term."
"Oh."
Dominique wasn't sure what to say anymore, so she took a large bite out of a drumstick and took her time chewing.
Elladora went back to swirling her food.
"Dominique," Mother said, turning away from the person on her other side, "'Ave you met zis young man? 'E is a seventh year student at 'Ogwarts. 'E woss just telling me 'ow much 'e likes Herbology."
She leant back to allow Dominique a view of the boy Mother had been talking to. He grinned impishly at her and ran a hand through his black hair.
"It's a pleasure," he said.
"Would you like to switch seats with me?" Mother offered.
"Erm...."
"Hello," Elladora interrupted, leaning around Dominique to offer Mother a sudden charming smile. "You must be Dominique's mother. She looks just like you."
"'Oo are you?" Mother asked, caught off guard.
"Elladora Longbottom-nice to meet you."
"Oh, you are Elladora."
"I take it you've heard of me." Elladora continued to smile blindingly, and Dominique stared. "I can't imagine what my father could be saying to all of you lovely people about me."
"Neville 'as nuzzing but good to say," Mother assured her politely.
"I'm sure if you prodded him you could get some bad out," Elladora joked.
Mother's laughter tinkled, but she turned away quickly. She must be remembering the gossip from the night before, too. While Mother had never been against homosexuality, the perfect family image-husband, wife, and an armful of children-was too deeply ingrained in her for her to be comfortable with the idea.
"You're welcome," Elladora whispered in Dominique's ear, and Dominique shivered despite herself.
When she turned to face her, Elladora's blinding smile had become a small, knowing grin.
"Sorry?"
"For saving you from what, I'm sure, would be an awkward situation. I know. My mum used to do the same thing, and I always had the same look on my face when she did. Eventually, I just came right out and told her I didn't like blokes."
"Er, right," Dominique said.
"So, Bridget was telling me yesterday that you just returned from Alaska. That must have been fun."
Again, Dominique couldn't stop herself from glancing across at Bridget. She wanted to ask her when she'd called off her engagement with the Ministry man-what was his name?
"Oh, I get it!" Elladora suddenly said, slapping her hand down on the table.
Dominique jumped.
"You get what?" she asked.
"Why you all have heard of me-I know now. Every time I say her name you get this weird look on your face."
"Who's name? What are you talking about?"
"Bridget-there! You got that look again. You know what happened-Well, you don't know, you only think you do."
"Excuse me?" Dominique bristled, slightly offended. "It doesn't take a genius to guess what you two were doing alone together."
Elladora shook her head.
"And here I thought you and Bridget were close friends."
"We are!"
"If you were, then you'd know she's engaged....to a man."
"Well, she had told me, I just-"
"You thought maybe she'd called it off. Or did you think she was just fooling around before the actual I do's?"
"I don't know," Dominique mumbled, shamed.
"Just because a woman prefers the company of other women doesn't mean she can't have female friends."
Dominique nodded, unsure what to say.
"So your mum probably thinks I'm a tramp, huh?"
Glancing up hastily to defend her mother, she saw that Elladora was smiling.
"Are you going to tell me about Alaska?" she asked.
"It was Antarctica, actually," Dominique corrected.
"Of course, that's what Bridget said. Why Antarctica?"
"It's the only place in the world where a particular breed of pearlwort grows. I was gathering some for Paxton-"
"Pain in the arse, if there ever was one."
Dominique laughed. Usually, no one dared insult Paxton, who-while often gentle and even effeminate-was extremely large and threatening, with biceps as big around as Dominique's thigh.
"Well, the Portkey took me to this tiny hut in the middle of a frozen lake completely on the wrong side of the continent from where I needed to be...."
Talking with Elladora came as easily to Dominique as caring for a Flitterbloom. She was an encouraging listener and an entertaining storyteller, and the time passed more quickly than Dominique could imagine. Before she knew it, the great hall had mostly emptied as students trickled out to play in the snow, professors had gone off to visit loved ones outside the castle walls, and families with small children had gone home to relax for the remainder of the afternoon.
Dominique was just listening to Elladora tell her about the first time she'd met Victoire at Hogwarts-which entailed a runaway Niffler and a misplaced sticking charm-when Longbottom came up behind Elladora and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Ah, the famous Niffler catastrophe," he said, grinning the exact same grin he'd passed on to his daughter. "Except you've remembered wrong, Ella; it was the portrait of Sir Cadogan that went missing, not Barnabus the Barmy."
"Professor," Dominique said, rising quickly to shake his hand. "It's nice to see you again."
To Dominique's simultaneous embarrassment and pleasure, Longbottom pulled her into a brief hug.
"I hope you're well, Dominique," he said. "It seems like all anyone has been talking about is your trip to Antarctica. We've all been worried for your safety."
Dominique smiled shyly.
"Oh, it wasn't anything, really-almost dull."
"Bloody under-exaggeration," Elladora corrected. "She's just been telling me about her trip. I think I'll need to add Antarctica to my 'to do' list."
"I hope you won't be running off again too soon," Longbottom said. "Have you told Dominique about your plans, Ella?"
"My plans?"
"You're so forgetful sometimes." He chuckled. "Your career plans, I mean."
Elladora seemed almost to shut down.
"Oh, those plans. No, I haven't." She offered no further information. Instead, for the first time since Dominique had met her, Elladora rose from the table, and Dominique was able to really see her.
She was much taller than Dominique, and her long, slender legs were mostly responsible. Beneath her plain black robes was a mismatched Muggle outfit that looked deliberately haphazard, the same way that her chestnut curls looked artistically messy tossed about her long neck and cascading over her ample chest.
Dominique couldn't help but despair. Elladora was as arresting as Dominique was plain.
Longbottom spoke again, interrupting Dominique's thoughts.
"Ella is moving back home to take on a job here at Hogwarts," he told Dominique proudly. "Librarian-our dear Madam Pince is retiring."
Dominique had to clench her jaw to keep it from dropping. Even with how little she knew Elladora, she couldn't picture the woman settled behind a high desk, surrounded by dusty old tomes, hissing at students who got too loud. And her doubts were only intensified by Elladora's obviously forced expression of anticipation.
"Should be brilliant," she said, her voice lacking the animation she'd been speaking with only moments ago.
"Hannah and I are pleased to have her back. She's been travelling for a long time."
Longbottom smiled at her with a distant sort of fondness, then patted her cheek and left to flag down Dominique's Grandmother and Grandfather before they could leave.
"So, librarian," Dominique said, hoping to gain some insight into the choice.
"Want to get a drink?"
"Sorry?"
"A drink. All Dad will allow here is Butterbeer, and I could use something a mite stronger."
"Erm, sure. Yeah, I'd love a drink."
"Splendid."
As Dominique followed Elladora out of the hall, she caught her mother's eye. Luckily, Mother was being accosted by Luna Lovegood, and so couldn't call her back, because Dominique was sure the drawn expression on her face couldn't mean she had anything to say that Dominique wanted to hear.
"Where are we going-Hogsmeade?"
"No, that's much too close. Have you heard of a pub called Boondoggles?"
"No."
"I wouldn't think so; it's in Ireland."
"You want to go for a drink in Ireland?"
"Have you ever had Irish Firewhiskey?
"I've never had any Firewhiskey."
"Blimey."
"We'll have to take a Portkey," Dominique murmured to herself.
"Don't worry, I'll pay," Elladora said, unworried.
But it wasn't the cost of a Portkey hire that made Dominique hesitate; it was the fact that she'd never gone out of the country simply for a drink. It was outrageous-it was sort of exciting.
Elladora suddenly scoffed.
"I can't believe you've never tasted Firewhiskey."
"I'm not much of a drinker," Dominique said, slightly defensive.
They were at the Hogwarts gates now, and Elladora spun back around as she passed through them.
"That's alright," she replied. "We'll find something to please you."
Wrapping her hand around Dominique's wrist, Elladora tugged her closer and pulled her into a twist. The air closed in around them, forcing them tighter together, and then they landed on hard earth, and the busy sounds of downtown London filled Dominique's ears.
"What's the number?" Elladora asked as she led the way to the tiny, red booth that Dominique remembered was the guest entry to the Ministry. They squeezed in together.
"I've no idea." Dominique looked up, to the right, out the window at the dirty rubbish bin beside them-anywhere but at Elladora, whose was pressed, chest to knee, against her.
"Never mind, I remember."
Elladora picked up the Muggle device on the wall, punched a few numbers on the pad, and spoke their names into the receiver. And down they went. When they reached the Atrium and Dominique toppled out of the box, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She'd never been a very physical person, and being so near to someone little less than a stranger was uncomfortable.
She contemplated this character flaw as Elladora spoke to the Ministry employee at the Portkey desk.
"Bugger," Elladora said. "I forgot I need a wand to hire a Portkey."
"You don't have your wand?"
Instead of answering, Elladora gestured to the man waiting impatiently behind the desk.
"Would you mind?" she asked. "I'll still pay, but it'll have to be in your name."
Still musing over the fact that Elladora was completely unarmed and seemingly comfortable with it, Dominique filled out the short request form and offered her wand as identification. Finally, they were offered an old Muggle newspaper that swept them across the Irish Sea in the blink of an eye. When they landed on solid ground again, the familiar aroma of salt and sand filled Dominique's lungs.
"Hurry," Elladora said. "Travel makes me thirsty."
"Why do I get the feeling that lots of things make you thirsty?"
Elladora turned back to wink at Dominique, and then led the way into a small pub on the side of a sandy road.
"So how exactly does a witch forget her wand?" Dominique asked over their first round of drinks. Elladora had ordered them both a shot of some very strong Firewhiskey, and a tall mug of ale.
"I haven't had it for almost a month now; I just forgot it would be necessary for Portkey hire. I've been travelling the International Floo Network for too long-cheaper, you know, but much less comfortable, and-"
"A month?"Dominique exclaimed, interrupting Elladora's comparison of magical transportation. "How could you possibly survive without a wand for a month?"
"It's easy," Elladora said. "Muggles do it all the time."
"B-but they're Muggles. They have to live like that.... Hang on! You Apparated us to the Ministry," Dominique remembered.
"I used your wand," Elladora said casually, as she waved down the young wizard tending the bar for another shot.
"You what?"
"I reached into your pocket and held your wand. I hope you don't mind."
Dominique considered being offended by the breach in personal space, but at the moment it just seemed funny to her. As she threw back her second shot, she noticed that a lot of things were beginning to seem funny.
"I still don't understand how you haven't gone mad without a wand," she said.
"It's a nice change, actually, from relying on magic. You should try it some time."
"I'll take your word for it."
Elladora shrugged and drank deeply from her mug.
"How did you lose it, anyway?"
"I'm not sure," Elladora said, then she leaned forward and her voice was permeated with that excitement that told Dominique a good story was on the way. "See, I was trekking through the Congo rainforest...."
The story took them through an old shamaness's hut, where Elladora was waylaid for three days because the shamaness was convinced that if she left Death would find her-to a Grindylow-infested swamp, where Death almost did find her-to a forgotten and crumbling village built above the ground in a forest of Cimmaron trees, where she unwittingly stepped into a magical portal to a remote island off the coast of Mozambique-which, inadvertently, took a long, arduous journey to find her way back.
"....So you see," Elladora concluded, as she polished off her third drink. "I have it narrowed down to that fifteen-kilometre stretch of the Congo River, I'm just not exactly sure at which point I lost it."
Dominique didn't know whether to stare wide-eyed or to laugh, so she settled for a mixture of both.
"At Beauxbatons," she said, beginning to slur her words together, "If we misbehaved, they took away our wands. What'd they do to you if they knew you got on jus' fine without yours?"
Elladora grinned.
"Then again, that punishment only came about 'n my seventh year, by which time you'd already dropped outta school."
"Ah, so I wouldn't have had to suffer after all," Elladora joked.
"Why did you quit Hogwarts?"
"Why did you go to Beauxbatons?"
"That's easy-my mother."
Dominique took a huge swig of her drink.
"She made you go?"
"No, I asked to go."
"I don't understand."
"Victoire."
"What about her?"
All of the sudden, Dominique's thoughts blurred together, and she blinked at Elladora.
"Who?"
"Victoire-you said 'Victoire.' What about her?"
"Oh, what about Victoire! The question is, what not about Victoire!"
"You're not making sense."
"I'm not?"
Dominique squinted at Elladora and attempted to figure out what she was trying to say.
"Let me guess," Elladora interrupted her thoughts. "Victoire always outshined you, so you wanted to get away-be your own person. And in the process you just happened to please your mum."
Dominique reeled back.
"How'd you know that?" she demanded.
"You don't have to be a genius to guess what having Victoire Weasley as a sister would do to a person."
Shaking her head back and forth, Dominique tried to make sense of what Elladora had just said. She settled instead on taking another swig of her drink.
"Anyway," she said, "Turns out it didn't matter what school I went to; I can't please Mother."
"No?"
"No matter what I do, s'not as important as finding a husband-which I haven't done." Dominique waggled the bare fingers of her left hand at Elladora. "S'all that's important to her-that I meet someone."
"Sounds like she only wants what's best for you."
"Yeah, well maybe your mother only wants what's best for you."
"What does my mum have to do with anything?"
"I dunno."
Dominique suddenly sobbed into her hands.
"Sounds like you need another drink," Elladora said, and she flagged down the barkeep.
Dominique peeked between her fingers as he refilled her mug.
"Marry me?" she asked him, her words obstructed by her hands.
"Pardon?" he said in a cute Irish accent.
Dominique examined his floppy hair, scruffy face, plain t-shirt pulled around impressive muscles, low-slung jeans on narrow hips-and turned back to Elladora.
"How d'ya make your hair do that?" she asked.
"Do what?" Elladora asked between huge gulps of her drink.
"Scream that you just had fantastic sex."
Elladora snorted into her mug, and a small giggle escaped Dominique.
Two drinks later, she was swaying in her seat.
"So wud're ya researching?" she asked Elladora, who had finally caught up with Dominique's drink count and was whistling tunelessly as she tried to touch the tip of her nose with one finger.
"Wazzat?"
"At Wogharts-I mean Hogtarts. 'At's why you agreed ta be the new librarian, innit? 'Ere's no better library in the world."
"'M not sea-searching."
"No, researching."
"O-oh!"
Elladora dissolved into laughter, and Dominique snorted, spraying ale across the countertop.
"A'no, my drink!"
"More drink!" Elladora cried, waving over the barkeep yet again.
"That's it ladies," he said. "I'm cuttin' ya off."
"I'll turn you into a toad!" Elladora screeched, pounding her fist on the bar. "Donimique, gimme yer wand."
Dominique looked into her mug.
"I can't find it," she said with a frown.
"I'll call ya a cabbie," the bartender offered. "Where d'ya live?"
"I live wherever the wind takes me!" Dominique declared.
"I live in London," Elladora pouted.
"Oh yeah, 'at's where I live, too."
"London? Ya came all the way from England, did'ja?" Shaking his head, the bartender came around the bar and offered Dominique his hand. "Well, yer too far gone ta get yerselves a Portkey. There's me spare room above; if ya don' mind sharin' with each other ya can stay fer the night."
"Does it have a bed?" Dominique asked, taking his hand and standing on wobbly legs. She hardly noticed when Elladora dropped her forehead down on the bar top and stayed that way.
"O' course it does."
"Izzit a soft bed?"
"I haven' slept on it meself."
"I hope itssoft," Dominique mumbled.
Sitting alone in the strange bedroom, waiting for the barkeep to help Elladora up the stairs, Dominique started shedding clothes to get more comfortable. It turned out to be a more difficult task than she had anticipated. Within moments she was thoroughly tangled in her jumper-her arms stuck above her head and her shirt inevitably riding further up her stomach the more she tugged-when she heard Elladora outside the door.
"I got it-I got it! S'not like I'm pissed or anythin'."
The door creaked open, then slammed closed, and someone released a small puff of breath.
"Wow," Elladora said.
"Help!" Dominique squeaked.
A pair of hands helped her out of her jumper, and Dominique collapsed on her back on the bed, her head spinning.
"Dominique," Elladora said, sounding suddenly less drunk.
Dominique looked up and saw that some new emotion had burned away the giggling and stumbling and slurring.
"I could show you how I get my hair to look like this."
The way Elladora looked at her made something stir, like the trembling of a Flutterby bush, deep inside her. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and for a moment, everything seemed incredibly serious.
And then she couldn't stop the giggles. She collapsed again, clutching at her chest, trying to breathe, and she couldn't remember the moment when the hysteria wore away and exhaustion set in.
--
The next morning Dominique was woken by the sun streaming in the window.
Groaning quietly, she pulled a pillow over her eyes and rolled over. But she was surprised when she rolled into a body.
Beside her, someone grumbled and nudged her back onto her side of the bed.
Peeking out from under the pillow, Dominique saw a mane of wild curls spilled across the bed, a bare arm thrown over a pale face, a long leg poking out from under the covers, the toes curling and stretching, and the night came back to her. She collapsed onto her back with a sigh, staring up at the unfamiliar open beam ceiling.
"I remember now why I don't drink," she mumbled, her words still a little slurred.
Elladora grunted, but said nothing.
"This bed is pretty soft," Dominique observed.
Elladora was silent.
Glancing sideways, Dominique saw that Elladora was staring upwards, too. Her lips were pursed together, and her face was drawn into a solemn mask.
"I'm sick, Dominique," she said to the ceiling.
"I know, I am, too. Do you think you're going to vomit? Maybe there's a rubbish bin around here somewhere."
"No."
"Oh, just a headache, then? That's what I have."
"No. I mean I'm ill-I'm dying."
Dominique laughed, hesitant and raspy.
"It's just a hangover, Elladora."
"It's not that. It's Vanishing Sickness."
"What?"
"I have Vanishing Sickness."
"B-but...." Dominique sat up ramrod straight, hardly noticing the way the room spun and her head throbbed as she stared down at Elladora with wide eyes. "But that's contagious!"
Elladora sat up, too, more slowly.
"I'm not contagious anymore. I wouldn't do that to you, or my parents, or anyone else I've been in contact with. I did my research. It's only contagious in the beginning stages."
"H-how long have you known?"
"A year next month."
"A year? Why haven't you gone to St. Mungo's?"
Elladora scoffed and turned away, rolling out of bed and taking her robes off the chair by the window.
"St. Mungo's-what can they do for me? There's no cure."
"They can.... They can.... You should still go."
Elladora shrugged.
"I'd rather not spend the rest of my life in a hospital bed."
She pulled her robes on and dragged her fingers through her hair as she watched Dominique thoughtfully.
"You were right-that's why I've come back. I depleted my resources outside England, and now I'm turning to the Hogwarts library for help. I'm not giving up on myself, Dominique."
Dominique nodded, and then something occurred to her as she remembered the way Longbottom had joked casually about Elladora's forgetfulness.
"Your parents don't know, do they?"
Elladora shook her head.
"And I'd really love it if you wouldn't tell them."
"But why tell me?" Dominique demanded.
Elladora laughed, and Dominique was more shocked by this reaction than by the revelation that Elladora was dying.
"I dunno. I like you. You're intelligent and understanding. You make me want to tell you things."
"I do?"
"You think you're this anti-social recluse, but you're the most amiable person I've ever known."
"I am?"
A small smile curled Elladora's lips.
"Let me buy you a coffee. It's much better for hangovers than tea."
Dominique chewed her lip for a moment, then got out of bed and stepped into her boots, finding her own robe hanging on the door.
"Thanks, but I should be getting back. My mother is probably going mad not knowing where I am." Dominique forced a laugh. "I don't think she'll ever see me as an adult."
"I understand," Elladora said. "Will I see you again before you leave?"
Turning back at the door, Dominique studied Elladora. She was so pretty it made Dominique remember her jealous childhood growing up with Victoire, who turned everyone she met into a blubbering mess. But Elladora made Dominique uncomfortable in a way Victoire never had. Still, how could she abandon Elladora after she'd confided in her?
"We'll see," Dominique finally said. Then she turned and left.
It was three days later when Dominique received an owl.
Dominique, it said, I shouldn't have asked you to keep my secret for me, and for that I'm sorry. I know you're only in town for a week, and you should spend it with your family; don't think about me. Well wishes and safe travels, E.
"'Oo is eet from?" Mother asked over her breakfast.
"No one," Dominique lied, pocketing the letter. "Just another job."
To her surprise, Mother hadn't asked where Dominique had gone Christmas night. Instead, the two skirted carefully around the topic of her disappearance, neither apparently willing to broach the subject first. Dominique couldn't figure out what it meant, but she guessed that Mother was worried that she might hear something she didn't want to. And strangely enough, Dominique didn't feel the need to reassure her.
"Will you accept eet?"
"I don't know. I already have quite a few jobs lined up."
"So you will be leaving soon."
It wasn't a question, so Dominique didn't bother to answer it.
[Read Part 2]