( seafoam heart.)

“Yeah, I’ll tell her some pretty ginger stole mine, that’ll go over well.” He sat down where she’d gestured, stretching his arms behind his head, an amused laugh escaping his lips, “You’re right about that—-but you think you have to teach me sleepover etiquette? I’ll have you know, Dominique Weasley, this isn’t my first—but now I’m curious, so by all means, continue.”

“She’d probably be like ‘she’s so pretty let her have it’.” She teased, shooting him a cheeky grin. “If Grandma Hughes gets mad, then I’ll have to tell her all about how her sweet grandson soaked me in his punch just to get me out of my dress. Sure she’d love that story.” Dominique was quick to make herself comfortable, taking the pins out of hair before she began twisting the stands into a braid as she spoke. It was odd of her not to care what she looked like in front of a boy -- let alone in his bed. She found him easy to be around - to laugh with. True be told, Dom hadn’t expected to spend the rest of Valentine’s night having a sleep over with the boy who had ‘ruined’ said night but with each of his goofy grins and sly compliments she couldn’t find it in herself to be upset anymore. “Okay, first things first: we pick a movie. I’d recommend something romcom or disney? But since this is technically your first one, because Rhys doesn’t count, I don’t mind whatever you want to watch.”

“Maybe? That’s my favorite jumper, Weasley—my gran made it for me.” He protested, though the wide grin of his face contradicted his tone. “Right though—can’t have you getting punch on my sheets. You’ll be all right taking the bed, then? I can take the floor.”

“--All the more reason to pay her a visit and ask for another.” She gave a wide grin as she sat right in the middle of the bed, patting the spot in front of her. “Declan Hughes, I’ll make sure to tell everyone about how much of a gentleman you were but this is like at least a, what, queen sized bed and we have been friends for at least three years, right? We can both fit somehow. You could like-- sleep at the foot of the bed or we could, ya know, sleep like normal people sleep in a bed. I cross my heart and hope to die promise you I’ve had all of my cootie shots. --Now hop on up here and let me verse you sleepover etiquette. ”

“Are those my clothes?” @domiweez

“Uhmm well, I just -- I mean I just...think...that if I’m staying with you this would be better than my dress?" She toyed with the sleeve of his jumper. “I’ll give it back-- maybe.”

He let out a laugh, then, loud and genuine. If Dom were cracking jokes then it couldn’t all be bad, right? “Yeah, best that we don’t go back into the Great Hall together, I think she’d start picking out wedding patterns right then, crazy girl.” It wasn’t said without it’s own kind of fondness; Dex had gotten used to both Annette and Dom’s peculiarities over the years; part of being a best mate was getting along with the girlfriend and her friends, after all. His smile dropped, though, as he realized how obvious he’d made his discomfort. “I think Rhys can occupy himself, yeah? But if you want to be alone I’m not going to badger you—just let me know if there’s anything I can do about the dress, all right? Or anything else.”

He was a bit wary of the idea that he’d somehow inadvertently made Dominique Weasley tear up, but he also felt like a bit of a prat leaving her in the bathroom to cry, so he shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind the company—but I was going to head out the gardens for a smoke, myself.”

His laugh was infectious, making her frown quirk into a smile. Even if her eyes were red from holding back tears, they brightened at the mention of Annette picking out wedding patterns. “I’m going to be famous, you know. It might be smart to catch me while you can. I could be your Beyonce. You’d be a lucky man.” She joked, though shaking her head to make sure he didn’t take her seriously. Without having to be asked once more, Dominique got up from her spot, brushing her hands down her dress a final time.

“You win some, you lose some, guess? I can get my gran’ma to fix it when I got home next. Don’t worry about it.” In truth the stain wasn’t as bad as she had originally thought. The world hadn’t exploded and her career hadn’t ended because of a little bit of fruit juice and alcohol -- even if she felt like it had. Still she couldn’t find the courage to get back up on stage and though he hated cigarettes, Dominique found hanging out with someone was better than moping alone. “--Since you’re super lonely and totes wanna marry me, I’d feel totally terrible letting you go off alone. So- I guess I’ll go with you, if you’re sure?”

Oh God—was she about to cry? He really hadn’t meant to spill his drink on her, obviously, and he just—he was not cut out for this business, “Aw, Dom, c’mon…” He made a sweeping gesture towards her, “I’m not saying it because I feel guilty, I’m saying it cause it’s true—you really do look beautiful, even with my drink spilled on you. I didn’t tell you before because I’d already mucked up your night and was trying to—I don’t know, fix it. Anyone would’ve been lucky to have you as a date, yeah?” This was not going well. He was drunk and it seemed like everything he was saying was only making her more upset, “I—well I’m not really musically inclined myself so—but yeah, you sounded amazing, put Celine Dion to shame, er, or, Celestina Warbeck?” He floundered, wishing more than anything he had thought to take his flask out of his jacket pocket before he’d given it to her.

And there it was: an opportunity to exit. But was it a trick? Was this one of those instances where she said he could go, but he really shouldn’t? Was he going to come face to face with an irate Victoire Weasley later in the night, for leaving her little sister in the girls bathroom to cry? Dammit, this was hard. “Ah, s’not missing out on much, really. I’m fine to stay and help–how’s the dress looking? I can always try another spell?”

“Oh, stop it. You’ll make Annie try and set us up again if she hears you talking like this.” She chided, shaking her head. She didn’t want these kinds of compliments and no matter how much he insisted they weren’t out of guilt or because he felt bad for her she knew otherwise. “Stop, Dex. Please just stop. I know that you’re in a stupid situation and I know that you want to leave, you’re literally staring down the door like its the last piece of cake at a birthday party.” Dominique shrugged off his jacket, only to hold it out for him to take back with a nod to encourage him to do so. “Go back to the party and have a good time. I’m sure whoever you came with is looking for you and I’m just going to be a drag -- so go.”

She could feel her eyes burn from tears she held back from that point. The night had truly been awful and she wasn’t about to ruin someone else’s just because she felt bad. “Look. Do you want me to escort you back to the dance on my way to my dorm or something? Is that what’s wrong? You’re scared?’

Dominique was saying a lot of angry sounding things and while Dex could admit she was a beautiful girl, he wasn’t really keen to spend the night with someone whose dress—and night—he’d inadvertently ruined; he had a feeling it wouldn’t end well for him, no matter how pretty she was. “Oy,” He sighed, not really sure what to say, “Blokes around here are kind of daft, in case you haven’t noticed—-don’t know a good thing when it’s standing right in front of them, even when it’s a pretty girl like you.” He was not good at this cheering up a girl stuff, “But you ah—you were doing a great job up there, Annie always said you were the best singer in the family,” Maybe a compliment would help? He was more than a bit unsettled at all the information being unloaded onto him.

“Anyway—yeah, yeah,” He nodded, sounding more sure of himself, “I use it all the time with spilled ink, sucks it right up, it ought to work just fine,” He pulled out his wand, waiting for Dom to move so he had a clear shot of the stain, “You ready? Tergeo,” He murmured the incantation, watching as the punch was siphoned off of her gown and into his wand, “All right, how’d I do?”

Dominique wanted to stop him before he headed into complimenting her but she let him talk. She built her ego up enough to know that she was pretty-- it was her personality that left a bad taste. “Dexlan,  You don’t have to tell me these things just because you feel bad for me or guilty. I know you don’t really mean that or you would have said it when you first saw me. --And fyi I’m the best singer in the school. Did I not sound okay? --Maybe I’m just having an off night or something.”

“It’s..” She started once he had finished the spell, turning to face the mirror again, rubbing her fingers to the light more purple spots. “It’s fine. -- You go on back and I’ll be right behind you. Totes.” Dom sighed, clearly disappointed and focused on the sticky mess her dress was still in even if he took most of it away. She plopped down on the floor, slipping out of her heels with a pout pulling her lips down into a frown. “Go on! You’ll miss all the fun.”

Dex usually kept his interactions with most of the girls around Hogwarts casual—because casual meant no drama, casual meant no tears, and casual meant that he usually avoided things like this, being dragged out of the Great Hall by his arm by an angry Weasley—a temperamental bunch, he’d learned through the years. “Fuc—’scuse us.” He said to the random party-goers that they ran into on the way out.

Her sudden questioning of him caught him off guard, a flustered sigh leaving his lips as he replied, “I mean—I’m not about to take over at Madame Malkin’s, no expert on fabrics and such but I—I think a quick siphoning spell would clean that drink right off, y’know?” He paused, hand reaching up to smooth down his hair, “And it’s Declan, Dom, for fuck’s sake.”

She was quick to tug him into the girls’ bathroom without a second thought, making a few of the girls rush out at the sight of him. Dominique dropped his hand to unbutton the jacket. It was her night to stand in the spotlight, even if it was for a school it was important to her, and now it was going to be ruined because of her dress. One massive stain was going to stop her from enjoying the rest of the night and there was nothing that she could do about it ( at least that she could think of ). 

“Are you sure?” This time she stopped to take a deep breath, her tone coming out more apprehensive than angry. “I’m sorry, I knew that and I’m just...this was supposed to be a good night? I’m not supposed to be trying to fix my dress that, by the way, took me months to pick out and cost all of the money I saved up since summer. I didn’t even get asked to the dance? I mean i know I’m a bit...me but no one asked and I was content with just preforming and now I can’t even do that.” Dominique sighed, looking up at him in the mirror before motioning for him to do the spell. “Are you sure it’ll work first? Because I don’t have another dress and if I have to sit out for the rest of the night, you’re sitting with me.”

“Just my luck, huh?” Dominique frowned as she hurried over to the table to wipe at her dress in a halfhearted attempt to get the punch out.

Dominique & Victoire Weasley — @stcrmwithskin