Behind Closed Doors

We had always been close - Teddy, Victoire, and I. The oldest children from our long line of cousins, it was only natural for the three of us to stick together during the practically daily family parties (for it seemed that because of our countless list of friends and family, nearly every week a birthday or another was to be celebrated). Back then, our games and conversations had always seemed miles beyond the maturity of the younger kids', and it always gave us a sense of bonding (and superiority) to have each other in that mass of loud confusion that made up the Weasley/Potter family gatherings. And although Teddy wasn't really related to any of us (due to the one technicality of his different blood), no one would ever dare mention this small detail. As far as we were all concerned, he had been adopted by us all, and loved as an equal. Anyone who dared question this would have had to answer to me.

And though we were each exceedingly different in our own ways, it seemed that our personalities had always complimented our trio of friendship. Victoire - the gentle innocent one who saw no wrong in the world or frankly in anyone - was the glue that held us together. She was so good - so easily ready to forgive and forget someone for any action against her - while I would hold onto my grudges with a vendetta that often appalled our mother. I frequently lost my temper with her when we were children, for ridiculous things that were out of her own control, for her goodness often made me seem diabolical in comparison. I would use it to take advantage of her more times than I'd care to admit, and yet it was nearly impossible - even for me - to be around Victoire and not love her. As a child, I failed to comprehend the possibility that she simply did not want to fight, and concluded that her reasons must have been due to some kind of weakness (whether in character or physical strength). And despite my frustrations toward her (due to my tendency to always assume the worst in people), and though she was technically the older sibling, I always felt the fiery incentive to protect her from any corruption and from the bad of the world. It never occurred to me that she might have felt the same way about me, in her own way.

Then there was Teddy, the one with the brightest hair in the room that matched his highly unique and infectious laugh. He could light up a room simply by being in it, but there was a pain and darkness inside of him that I believed I alone could see. His confidence along with his ability to be funny and witty without even realizing it made him lovable, and I had adored him (and in a way, secretly worshipped him) since long before I could remember. To say that I was in love with him might have been a stretch at such a young age, but it was not a warping of the truth to say that I harbored non-familial feelings long past childhood for him.

And then finally, there was me, Dominique Weasley, most commonly known and referred to as just "Dom". It was a nickname that Teddy had come up with when we were both quite young, and the family had all adopted it due to how long and tedious my full name was. I completed the trio as the youngest, though my sister was only one year older and Teddy a year older than that. Looking back upon it all from years of retrospect, I guess I could say I was the one who least fit in to the group, but the one who never stopped trying.

I was terrified the fateful day that Teddy boarded the train for his first year of Hogwarts. To the eyes of a nine year old, he was entering into a world that I would not be a part of for a long time, and I feared that he would move on and forget about us. But of course when I shared my fears of this with Victoire, she seemed puzzled and did not seem to understand my fears. To her, Teddy was only going away for a little while, and soon enough it would all return to how it had always been. And besides, we would all be together at Christmas, right? She couldn't even conceive of my jealousy at the thought of the other children there who would steal him away from the family and make him forget about us - and more importantly, me. I convinced myself that my sister cared less about Teddy than I did, but years later realized that I was once again misunderstanding my sister and her thoughts. She loved him equally as I did, just didn't waste time thinking dark thoughts and imagining that he might find people who he might prefer over us. And perhaps in time, that was why I lost him and she did not.

Teddy returned for Christmas that year changed as I had feared, but not overwhelmingly so. Though he had indeed made new friends at Hogwarts, and had learned from his numerous classes, there was no change in his attitude. He was still the same Teddy I had always known, who gave me the best hug I can remember when the train finally arrived and he had stepped off. The entire family had come to greet him from his first term at school, and he had somehow managed to walk out of the station with both myself and Victoire hugging him tightly on either side (for neither of us had conceded in letting him go for even a second).

When the day came for Victoire to leave for Hogwarts, I found myself in a desperate situation. My tears began on Friday evening, and continuously fell in bouts all throughout the weekend. I wailed and begged my parents to send an owl to Dumbledore requesting my early admittance to the school, and became enraged when my father informed me that the possibilities of that were slim to zero. When Teddy came over to help calm me down, I was nearly unconsolable, wailing about how they were abandoning me here. He and Victoire vehemently assured that they were not - and that they would never - but my tantrum lasted for the entire weekend. As Victoire packed her trunk with mum, I lurked in the doorway with tears burning hot trails down my cheek, my lower lip having become bloody from biting on it. Mum soon became cross with me and tried to send me away, but I became a statue, burning holes in the ground with my eyes.

I awoke early that Monday morning and crept through the house to my sister's room, where I found her fast asleep. As I closed the door behind me she stirred slightly, still half asleep as she murmured my name and something about it still being dark outside. I crawled beneath the covers with her and clung to her nightgown. And though she wasn't entirely awake, she still put her arm around me and gently pushed my head onto her shoulder in a way that brought me some comfort.

We remained like that for a long time, until I could bear the silence no more. Unsure of whether or not she had returned to sleep, I probed a promise from her. "Victoire, promise you won't forget about me," I whispered in the darkness, my eyes slowly beginning to pool with tears as they had the entire weekend.

She stirred slightly, sighing. "I would never forget about you," she murmured, turning her head slightly towards me.

In the pale moonlight, I could see the faint glistening of her pale eyes. And in that moment, I realized that she was taking our inevitable separation as hard as I was. I fiercely gripped her wrist under the covers, desperate to clear my conscience. "Even after… how I acted this weekend?"

Victoire made a small sound that resembled a chuckle, and closed her eyes once more. "Don't be silly, Dom," she said fondly, a delicate yawn escaping her lips.

I was determined however, to unburden myself from my previous immature behavior, and did not accept her words. "It's true, though," I whispered, slightly louder than our voices had been before. Guilt riddled me as she stirred again, her sleepy mind bothered by the noise. "I've been acting as immaturely as little Lily does when she doesn't get something she wants."

Victoire didn't offer a reply to this, so I plunged on, my confessions spilling out like a stream. "I don't want you to leave and forget about me. You're leaving like Teddy did, and I'll be here completely alone. I'm always alone."

"Don't be silly Dom, you're never alone," Victoire assured me quietly, voice slightly muffled by the cover she drew half over her face.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows to confront her in the dark. "But it's true Victoire, you're leaving and I'll be all alone."

"It'll only be for a little while," she murmured. "I'll be back before you know it, and then soon enough you'll be old enough to come to school with me and Teddy."

Unconvinced, I threw myself onto my back once more with a sigh. The bed shook slightly, and I looked up at the dark ceiling, tasting blood as I bit my lip.

Seeming to sense I was at the brink of tears once more, Victoire spoke again. I had thought she had drifted back to sleep. "I won't forget about you, Dom. I could never forget about you."

"How can you be sure?" I asked heavily, my voice barely audible and a few pitches above its normal sound.

And to this day, I remain uncertain of if she was awake (and if she was, if she still even remembers) her reply to my silly question all those years ago. "Because I love you," she said simply, in a way that I could never say those words with a straight face in my life. Perhaps it was easier for her, because she was so good. "You're my sister, and that will never change, no matter what you will ever do to me."

I was unable to conjure up any more tears that day as Victoire and Teddy waved to me and the family from the train. Perhaps I had used them all up from my previous days of crying, or simply had come to believe Victoire's comforting words that we would be together again soon. Either way, despite my tantrum the day before, I forced a smile and waved back, refusing to move from my spot on the platform until the train had gone completely out of sight. Only then did I allow my father's guiding hand on my shoulder lead me away from the station and back home where my sister would no longer be.

And so began my year of solitude.