So this is for Mad's 'The Awesomely Amazing Weasley Girl Challenge'on the Next Gen Fanatics forum :D. And I picked out James Potter with the skills of a Leprechaun. Anywhooozles.

This is a cousincest piece, so if you don't do that. Look away now. YEAH!

This has very adult themes, just think about what Angst entails and don't cry about it later saying 'you didn't warn me'. Okay. GOOD!

This is dedicated to Zhie, my JamesDominique twin, and a J/D is long overdue!

Also to those creepy ICTriplets.

My prompts: hold on, enemy, vivacious,and searching


Lying in Lavender Fields.


James Sirius Potter II had never known he was searching, searching for someone that would compliment, complete and conquer him in mind, body and spirit.

His biggest issue was he never did things normally, he was against-the-grain-James. You told him one thing, he'd do the opposite. It was hardly stubbornness, it was more the case of being an individual and wanting what he wanted, no questions asked.

It was what James didn't want that was a problem that became apparent when he was about 18. When the realities of the world finally revealed themselves, the fog of childhood finally clearing and he saw the world for what it really was.

Prejudiced, Misunderstanding, Hateful and Uncontrollable.

James never wanted to be criticised, he never wanted to be hated, he never wanted to be misunderstood.

And what he didn't want the most, was to feel the wrong things. His own heart was an enemy. What he knew in his head, would fight against the searing emotions that threatened to ruin his life, and poison him with ridiculous and out of control love.

It wasn't his fault. Really and truly.

There is always just this one point in someone's life where they say; oh, that's why. To most, this realisation brings happiness and the fairytale forever-after that everyone wants. But there's some that have to deal with the fight or flight feeling when they discover the truth.

For someone with a family as big as James, well flight was an impossibility. Especially when the majority of your family could find you within the hour if you fled.

He mused that he would have quite liked France. But then the thought only made his whole being hurt even more.

It was where she lived.

And that's what James blamed.

They weren't really related. He'd see her every now and then at various Weasley gatherings over the years, but she went to Beauxbatons.

He only got to know her over the summer and Christmas holidays.

They were too close. They basically lived in each other's pockets whenever she was there. It was like she wasn't gone for most of the year and they would do anything with each other. Everyone called them best friends. At that point in time, James was hardly aware that he felt more than just friendly feelings towards Dominique, even more than just cousinly affections.

Of course by the time he saw this, he was already in far too deep. She was his every thought, he'd doodle her name when he wasn't concentrating and he'd often wake up at night, shaking at the dreams that he'd have.

Even though they didn't share surnames, they shared blood. But it was the same blood that drew him to her without his input. Out of his control.

He would tightly hold on to whatever sanity and uncorrupted thoughts he held about his cousin. But when another year passed by, they slipped more out of his grasp.

It took him about 4 years for it to take control of his life. He was out of Hogwarts, training as a Healer and Dominique had come back to England to work at a Witch clothing company as a designer.

It wasn't even his idea, it was his parents.

Get an apartment with Dom. It will be much cheaper.

It was the last thing James wanted – to have to see the one person he was in love with everyday. Especially considering she was his cousin, and they could never be anything.

It had started out surprisingly okay. James had a dynamic work schedule, so he would come in late at night and would hardly ever see his cousin. Sometimes it was just a rare hello/goodbye that he could prepare for.

He would even pick up extra shifts just to see her less.

Then she asked him to go to the cinema with her. It was unfortunate really. He thought she was working late, like she usually did on Wednesdays, and he was free for 2 days. So when she walked in, him on the sofa doing nothing, she basically forced him to go with her.

Dominique Weasley was very persuasive.

James wasn't even sure whether he would have said no anyway.

She was smiling away, laughing infectiously and giving him the most sincere of looks. Her vivacious blonde hair fell in torrents down her back, and it cascaded in a mirage of glitter and hints of strawberry as she walked.

Her favourite silk pink scarf flowed with her, caressing the soft skin of her neck and her shoulders.

He would follow in her steed, laughing with her, smiling with her. Because she was funny. She was smart. She was beautiful. She was everything he wanted, she was that someone he had unconsciously been searching for.

It hurt him even more. It winded him. It broke his resolve bit by bit.

Her bright blue eyes that were just so friendly and warm.

"James? What are you looking at?" she asked smiling and hitting him on the shoulder as James stared at the floor, a pained expression written on his features as they exited the cinema.

"Nothing," he replied weakly, willing himself not to look at her.

She made a ticking sound in her throat, "I can read it on your face Jamesy."

James didn't reply so she touched his shoulder which he violently shook at. She stepped back cautiously, her eyebrows raised.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'm just cold, it was a shiver," he replied quickly and quietly.

Dominique continued to frown, "it's late March, James. That's why I'm wearing a cotton dress and spring shoes." She replied, holding the skirt of her dress out from her body.

"And that scarf," he replied under his breath, though he didn't look up.

She smiled lightly and picking up the edge of the accessory tickled James' face with it. "It's my favourite," she replied.

He still didn't reply so she frowned again, noticing they were nearing their apartment and James hadn't looked at her since they had left the cinema.

"Talk to me James, come on. Tell me what's wrong, you've been this way for a while, and I'm worried. You know I'll help you with anything, I'd do anything for you James."

"Nothing" he replied harshly, opening the door to their building and rushing up the steps, Dominique following after him.

When they had both reached the apartment on the 4th floor, James was making his way towards his bedroom, and Dominique was still rushing after him, calling his name.

"James! Don't run from me," she shouted sternly, grabbing onto his shoulders.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

James turned quickly, throwing Dominique's hands from his shoulders and grabbed onto her face and neck, pulling her to his lips quickly and harshly. Attacking them with as much force as he could, knowing full well that this was the be all and end all of his existence. Nothing would ever be the same after this.

He poured his emotions into his kiss, his hands moving through Dominique's silky hair and holding onto the scarf around her neck tightly.

It wasn't till after a few seconds before he realised she hadn't pushed him off, she wasn't acting against his actions. Her hands rested on his chest as if she were going to push him away, but there was no force there.

It was when she moaned. That was the turning point. The point when he realised he was doing something wrong.

He let go of her, stepping back quickly. Her eyes were still closed, her lips embarrassingly red, still slight parted – reminding him of what he had just done.

James wanted to run out of the door, run far away but he couldn't. He was transfixed, glued to the spot.

When she slowly opened her eyes, her shock was only slightly visual past the smile and blush on her face.

"James," she said croakily.

"I'm sorry," he replied looking at the ground, a change in his voice, and the tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

A hand touched his face and lifted it to look directly in her eyes. The eyes which had an echo of sincerity, yet something burned in them. The look he could feel searing his face.

"Don't say that," she replied lowly, worried at her own voice, at her own words.

James twitched and he stepped back again, away from her eyes. His guilty eyes looked away from her.

"Please," she said quickly, James looked back at her, there was a shake in her voice, and her eyes were downcast. "I don't know what to think, James," she began, a tear sliding down her cheek and hitting the floor.

His heart ached at the sight, he wanted to wipe her tears away. Make her smile.

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously, still a metre away from her.

She looked up at him, "I didn't want you to stop," she replied.

James voice caught in his throat and he just stared at her.

"I think I, no, I know that I love you, James. And I know it's wrong but you make me feel alive." She finished, pulling herself towards him as if being pulled by gravity to her sun.

He shook his head, "you shouldn't have said that Dom, you've made it worse." He choked out, shaking his head and backing up. His back reaching his bedroom door.

"I'm so sorry James, but I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. And I don't know what to do."

"No, no, no," James answered, putting his hands over his ears like a child.

"Please James," Dominique begged.

She reached him and pulled his hand towards her chest, just over her heart.

"You make my heart beat faster James."

He withdrew his hand, and placed it in his pocket.

"Tell me you don't love me," she said harshly, an ultimatum.

James replied with a pained expression, he couldn't lie.

Her face softened and she made a grim smile.

"You kissed me James, I didn't kiss you, remember that."

"I know," he replied and before he disappeared into his room he added; "and I would do it again."

Dominique was left alone in the hallway, tears still falling from her eyes and her heart beating faster at what had just happened. The truth was out, but it didn't make anything better.

It wasn't until morning that she saw him. She hadn't realised he had been packing all night. He wanted to leave the apartment before she could see him, but she couldn't sleep. She had been reflecting on the sofa the whole night.

Her silk scarf was crumpled in her hands, she'd been crying into it.

"What are you doing?" she asked shocked.

"I'm leaving, I can't stay here" James replied, turning from her and taking his bags.

"No!" she shouted, "you can't leave me. I won't let you leave me."

"We're cousins Dominique!" he screamed, "you are not meant to love me. I'm not meant to love you. You're like poison to me, you always have been. It's you, it's your fault. It's your stupid blood, you've done this, and I know you have. All these years you've been trying to break me. Stop doing this to me, I don't want to feel this way. Keep away from me, don't talk to me. I can't take this anymore."

He tore away from her, her hands still reaching out to him as he Disapparated. She didn't know where he would have gone. Her heart broke at his words, she knew it would happen one day. The Veela blood in her body being her downfall, she wished she didn't have it. She had wished it away every day.

James didn't come back.

He didn't stop her from doing what she did. And he was the only one who could of.

He hadn't considered how she had felt over the years. The pain of her own emotions was far more than she could handle on her own. James never realised that when someone with her blood loved, it was beyond logical thought. They loved once and forever.

And it was the blood that he blamed – that she no longer wanted.

She'd been in St Mungo's for weeks.

Gauze taped around her arms, her body pale and gaunt. The bright blonde of her hair gone and what was left resembled dried straw. The silk scarf still wrapped around the palm of her hand.

She lay like that for weeks, still James didn't come back. Their whole family cried at her bedside, wanting her to wake up, but she'd just lost too much blood. She wasn't trying. She didn't want to wake up.

It had been a month, the one day he came.

She'd already been called critical. She wouldn't survive.

They all prayed and hoped for a miracle, they wanted a reason. They wanted to know what her note meant.

He still had the same clothes he had worn that night, washed and recycled time and time again.

He knew it was his fault.

They'd shown him the suicide note, it was all him.

-x-

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't be better, I'm sorry that I feel this way.

I'm sorry that the blood I have has done this to you, but how I feel will never change. I love you with all my heart, I just want you to know that.

You've left me and I can't live without you.

I know you'll never be mine, and I know you'll never see me again.

I just want you to know that if things were different, if this was another world, how I feel wouldn't change.

You've taken my heart and soul with you, I'm just an empty shell.

-x-

James knew it by heart, he'd read it over and over again. He made himself sick at the thought, his own words had driven Dominique to this. This was never what he wanted. Even when he knew that they couldn't be together, he never wanted her to be gone from his life.

He couldn't live without her either, and looking down at her frail body, he knew he wouldn't.

"I love you Dominique," he'd whispered in her ear before he left, before he left for the last time.

He'd always quite liked France, it reminded him of her.

It reminded him of how when she got angry, she'd speak in French.

When she was bored she'd make the most delicious French pastries.

How whenever she'd talk about her favourite place, it was the restricted section of the National Library in Paris.

That her one wish was to be able to look up at the stars at night from the lavender fields of Valréas, the smell of the violet flowers and the cool breeze her dream of peace.

So, he told Albus to meet him in a field outside of Valréas a week later.

Dominique wasn't going to survive the night.

James lay amongst the lavender, feeling Dominique there with him. He'd already taken the pills, and he could already feel himself start to drift away.

The further he went, the more he could feel the cool wind blowing over him feel like Dominique hugging him and whispering to him. He could feel her calling him to go beyond the veil. His heart beat faster and he knew it was nearly time.

He could hear Albus running over to him as his vision dimmed. He lightly shook him, but he was paralyzed.

It only took a few more minutes, and they went together. Off to their own world where there were no problems about blood and relation, that you could be with your soul mate, no questions asked.

Their family never did understand. They never understood how they could lose two on the same night, both to suicide.

James hadn't left a note.

He only had a tattered pink silk scarf tied around his hand, which lay across his heart.


The End.

R&R please.