A/N: I haven't uploaded in ages but I had written this story and then my computer shut down and completely deleted it. The beginning was much better than this and I just lost the heart to continue it. But my goal was to do it, so I completed it in the end. This story, unlike the others, is very dark and angst-y. If you want something light-hearted and wouldn't mind using ten minutes of your time to check out my story and give me a review, I would love that and it would be appreciated. I also want to ask why people haven't been uploading recently. All the stories I have followed haven't been uploading for two days and my mornings are really depressing now. Anyone feel like prompting writers to upload quicker? You could do it to me...meaning there's a review involved. ;) This story could've been funnier however I thought it might be better to darken it this time. I also made it more of my own by walking away slightly from the prompt. But still.

Prompt: Dominique always used music to channel her feelings...so she taught herself the piano

Disclaimer: I own my hair and the money in my wallet. That's it. JK Rowling owns the Potterverse.


"Honestly, Weasley, how can you be so ignorant?"

"I can't date a girl when I'm in love with her sister."

"Miss Weasley. Miss Weasley! Miss Weasley, you should strive to be more like your older sister."

"The Veela genes definitely skipped you."

"You are worthless, Dominique Weasley. Worthless."

Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

Those were the words echoing in her head.

She had heard them enough to believe them herself. She was worthless. She was nothing.

Her sister was perfect. Her brother was perfect. She was in the middle. She was invisible.

Dominique wanted somewhere to escape all the voices. They were telling the truth. That's why she wanted to run. It's why she wanted to cry.

She told herself it wasn't what Gryffindor's did. Crying was giving up. Dying wasn't giving up. It was ending things. It was reached peace. She wanted peace. She needed peace. She needed happiness. She truly wanted it.

That's why Dominique found herself going towards the Black Lake's unused dock at a funeral march.

There had been rumors of there being a Giant Squid. There were also ones about merpeople and seaweed that would try pull you down.

There were witnesses. Dominique's mum, Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Aunt Gabrielle and Uncle Harry had told her so. They were most of the witnesses. One died, Dominique knew that.

Crouching down, Dominique peered into the dark waters and thought.

Dying wasn't giving up. It wasn't. Nobody would care if she walked off. They would let her be. They would let her die.

She didn't know if she would prefer living or dying.

Turning her wrist to face her, she traced the white scars on her blue veins.

They were ones of cutting. Proof of thinking life wasn't worth it anymore.

Shivers ran down her spine as she remembered the blood gushing out. It had scared her. She kept going. Cut some more and be a small step closer to happiness and peace.

It was all Dominique wanted. Happiness and peace.

She stood up and looked at the murky water, leaning in some.

Suddenly, rough hands pushed her in and she began to sink, sink, sink.

The spot that was the sun was becoming smaller by the second and Dominique continued to sink.

If she had known that it would have been today that she left for a happier place, she would have said goodbye. She thought she owed it to her family to thank them for letting her borrow their last name. She would thank whoever pushed her in for doing something that Dominique was too afraid to do.

Then she would say goodbye.

Dominique could feel her lungs screaming for air and she could hear her brain panicking.

She didn't know why they didn't give up the fight from now. She wanted them to.

Suddenly, a speck of darkness covered the sun and began getting bigger.

Was it someone? Did someone care enough? Why didn't they leave her?

Dominique saw green eyes and then someone was pulling her up by the sleeve of her shirt. She was going up and her lungs were still crying now.

She knew she didn't have long but this person was insistent of keeping her alive.

She was thrown out of the water and onto a plank where someone instantly pressed their lips to hers and breathed air into her, then pumped their hands onto her chest and started again.

The water was coming up now. It was creating a tickling sensation in her throat and she quickly turned over, hacking water onto the dock.

Opening her eyes to slit, she took in the bright light from the late afternoon sun and voices around her and hands under her armpits and on the underside of her knees.

"Put her on that bed." A worried voice broke into her pondering.

She felt a hard bed underneath her and Dominique groaned. She was alive.

She had made it. Dominique pushed herself up onto her bottom and dropped her head into her hands as she began to cry.

"It's alright, Dominique. You made it. You're alive." Her father rubbed her back and rocked her back and forth. She just began crying harder.

"Do not fret, Miss Weasley, Mr Nott will be suspended for this. Endangering a student's life is against our policy." McGonagall said formally, her hands clasped together and her eyes calculating.

"No!" Dominique exclaimed, straightening her back.

"Calm down, Dominique. You're embarrassing me." Victoire hissed, her blue eyes angry.

"You have no right to calm me down, Victoire Apolline Weasley. You are the reason I was contemplating jumping off myself." Dominique shrieked, jumping off the bed and clenching her fists by her side. Her legs were unsteady, wavering left to right.

There were a few gasps from people.

"Apologize to your sister immediately, Dominique." Her mother demanded, her voice low and threatening.

"No." And Dominique turned around and fled the Hospital Wing. She rushed past students, pushing her way towards the seventh floor corridor she had heard of.

She knew that she must have been attracting attention because while her dress and blazer were no longer sopping wet, they still clung to her like a second skin, but she didn't care.

She kept running towards where she thought it was but then she stopped. She was lost.

She turned the the nearest painting which was of a young girl with bouncing brown hair and vibrant green eyes that seemed entirely real.

"Excuse me?" Dominique called and the girl looked down and smiled.

"Hello. I know what you're looking for. It's nearly the only thing worst visiting on this floor," the girl rolled her eyes, smiling. "It's about thirty steps to your right. Next wall over."

"Thank you…"

"Jane."

"Thank you, Jane. How do you get in, anyhow?"

"So you don't know much about it, do you?"

"My aunts Ginny and Hermione and uncles Harry and Ron used to come here but they never told me how to get in." Dominique confessed.

The girl nodded in understanding. "From what I know, you have to walk across it three times and say very clearly in your head what you want. Good luck."

Dominique waved to the girl and followed her instructions.

I want a room to get away from the pain. I want a room to take away my pain. I want a room to help me calm down.

Each time, the question was slightly different.

The door opened anyhow and the moment Dominique slipped inside, the door shut and she found herself in a large room with high ceilings and many objects scattered along the floor.

Stepping slowly towards a muggle guitar, she sat down and placed it on her lap. Her left hand went directly to its neck and her right hand rested over its curve and dangled on the strings.

Dominique dragged her fingers down on the strings and a noise came from it. It sounded nice.

She placed three fingers onto three spaces and played the strings again. Another noise. It began to sound nice. Her fingers from her left hand moved to another position and her right hand played the stings. It began to turn into something.

Whether it was something beautiful or utterly horrendous, it was original and it was a first attempt.

She found her soul lighter and slightly happier, like the music was helping.

Dominique gently put down the guitar and rushed towards the large black piano in the corner of the room.

She had taken lessons when she was younger and they had always been nice to take her mind off things.

She couldn't, however, remember anything now.

Slowly, she put her frozen fingers onto the keys and pressed them down, eliciting a high sound.

Maybe it was muscle memory or her brain began to remember but her fingers moved to their own accord, playing a song.

The sadness and jealousy around the edges of her heart began to melt away, the music offering her an escape.

In her mind, while she was playing the song, her family were all loved equally. Louis and Victoire were no longer favorites and Dominique was no long cast out.

The moment the song ended was when she realized something.

Dominique knew that from now on, she could find her happier place within music. Dominique knew that even though her parents disliked her, the centaurs welcomed her like one of their own. Dominique Gabrielle Weasley knew that someday, things would be better if she believed music would be there to guide her.