dominique weasley

📖 Dom is also a big fan of like, mystery stories, and that’s why ‘The Girl on the Train’ is on her bookshelf (it’s the thickest book she’s ever read).

🎤 Dom is an absolute fashion whiz, and can predict trends and stuff pretty easily. She’s very good at make-up as well, and briefly considered a career in it.

❤️ Sleep-ins. Okay, it’s a little bit common, but there’s NOTHING better than a sleep-in for her.

“Most people didn’t bring anything with them—–a perk of being one of the people who go on supply runs is that if something catches your eye, you can take it. It’s not like anyone out there is using it.” Va l pointed out with a shrug. “Muggles do some things well—-food, and entertainment? I mean, how do we not have movies? But taking months to heal—-I’d die of boredom.”

Dominique raised her eyebrows. “Mmm, that does sound good. If I weren’t quite so lazy I’d probably do it.” She did like the sound of new bags and better clothes. And all the clothes that people had left behind...repurposing it for other clothes, cloaks, blankets, the essentials. Especially in and around Scotland, most people would have decent things to keep warm. Her eyes went a little starry at the thought of all the material she could gain. A dream, truly. “Movies are a must. I dunno how we’re meant to survive without them.” She smiled. “I guess that’s what they’re for - to distract while you suffer. And that thing - intronetting? Whatever. That seems popular.”

Liam stepped into the tailoring shop, unsure of what to expect. He heard the question from Dominique but didn’t immediately respond, as his mind was occupied with taking in everything around him. Awkwardly, he realized he still had his finger stuck through the hole in his jacket and it was starting to look a little vulgar. “Uh, yes. I hope.” He shimmied out of the jacket as he approached the woman. “There’s a hole in this pocket and I keep losing things. Would you be able to fix it?” 

Dom quirked an eyebrow at the man opposite her, doing her best not to look judgemental. “Easy fix, don’t you worry,” she told him, with a smile, and gently took the jacket out of his hands. The hole was quite noticeable, and....hm. She’d fix anything, of course, but was disapproving of anyone who got into the habit of letting their things deteriorate. Of course, he could’ve just been unlucky with the hole, it couldn’t be ascertained. “How long would you say it’s been in this state?”

💕 Her grandmère. Apolline Delacour was not only one to do things with a flourish and a smile and impeccable style, but could also be quite practical and was a mastermind at household spells. Dominique always thought that she got the balance between the two just right, and aspired to be like that as a grown woman.

💕Dominique looks up to her older sister, Victoire, wishing she could be as brave as her. Sometimes she feels useless, being a tailor in amongst all this bloodshed, and wants to be in Victoire’s position.

☀️Dominique used to tan or swim on sunny days, but now she’s a bit more subdued. She still very much likes the sun, though, and will use any excuse to go outside and soak in the golden light. It’s her favourite sort of day.

Victoire burst into the room before spinning in a circle, her arms in an upwards oval shape as if she was a ballerina. Bowing, she smiled at her sister, walking over, observing the work around her. "Yes, you may!” Taking off her jacket, she put it smack dab on the counter in front of her sister carelessly, not giving a care to the work under it. “There’s a tear here after a fucking Inferi tried to steal my jacket and this is a really fucking nice jacket, Dom, this is one of the one’s Aster picked out for me so,” she stopped a moment before moving on, “In Aster’s memory I know they’d want me to take better care of it. It’s Saint Laurent. Even got it embroidered for me.” Sighing, she bounced up on her tip pee toes, looking at the rest of the work around them. “Ooo, that’s pretty, that reminds me of the dress Aunt Hermione told us about that she wore at the Yule Ball during the Goblet of Fire.”

Dom’s face spread into a broad grin as she spotted her sister. Victoire never failed to make her feel better. Quickly, she snatched the jacket off the pile of work she was sewing, hoping it hadn’t caught on anything. Thank goodness. It hadn’t. That was certainly a relief. She nodded as she listened, fingering the rip gingerly. “Saint Laurent. Wooh.” Dominique whistled appreciatively, folding it slightly over one arm and using the other to conjure measuring tape. “I’ll get it fixed up by tonight, I think. The hardest part will be recreating the stitching so that it’s stylish and still strong.” At least, that was her assessment for now. It would mean a skipped dinner, but that’s the kind of thing you did for your sister. “Anyways, what’s happening?” She gestured towards the window. “Have you been - successful?”

She tilted her head. Her mind turned to the hordes lurking outside, somewhere, and to the thousands, millions, dead, and her voice turned to a snarl. “Look, they’re going to have to. We’re all going to die if we keep arguing amongst ourselves. If the snakes won’t shed their skins then we will peel them off, but it needs to happen. Luckily, I make robes, and you can use those to cover up. Sound good?”

Dom lifted an eyebrow. “Is that so?” she asked. Potters were all the same, weren’t they? Always like this. And Lily was the scariest besides, in Dominique’s opinion, and always had been. “Have you got any proposals for getting this whole business in order, then? I never thought politics would be your style.”