A/N: I'd realized the apparent lack of Dominique/Lysander stories on my profile and this was the result :) I am completely in love with this pairing now!
This was written for two challenges/competitions:
The Word Limit Competition: Round 3
Word Limit: 1,500 words (100 word allowance)
Prompt: Go All the Way
The "Where In The World?" Challenge
Landmark: The Statue of Liberty
I disclaim anything that you recognize - the first dialogue is adapted slightly from Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games, the name 'Nic' belongs to my friend (just a beautiful m i s t a k e) and HP belongs to JKR.
(Starting Anew)
.
"We could do it, you know."
"Do what?"
"Ditch everyone. Go all the way. Never be heard of again."
"We wouldn't last five minutes."
"We would. I could write for a local newspaper, and you could study architecture."
"We're too young."
"You're twenty-four, and I'm eighteen."
"You make me sound like a pedophile!"
"Yeah, well, Victoire calls you that anyway, doesn't she?
"Yes, she does, but - it wouldn't work."
"I have a feeling that it would."
/
They are six years apart in age.
She shows herself as being happy-go-lucky, adventurous, fun, and whatnot; but inside, she's just scared.
He is known as the perfect prissy guy though some know him to be a great sport; but inside, all he wants is freedom.
They were so different yet exactly the same, and after all each other was what they lived for.
/
It's New Year's Eve. She is drunk; sitting inside that dodgy pub at the corner of the street, but no, she doesn't care. She's young, okay, and she's free - she'll do whatever she wants to, and whatever it takes to break off - from the world, from her sister, from her family, from this life - from everything.
She's too wasted to think properly and she feels herself pass out, but does anyone really think she cares? She doesn't.
She hears a voice close to her, and the last think she remembers is a peck on her cheeks, and then her mind goes blank.
/
He wakes up in the middle of the night that New Year's Day. He tries recall the events of last night; but he can't, he just can't. All he knows now of the world is that he is Lysander Scamander, he is eighteen years old, it is New Year's Day and that he likes Dominique Weasley - but there's one thing that he's just realised; and that is that there's a blonde asleep in his bed next to him.
What shocks him is that it isn't Dominique Weasley.
He gets up from the bed and his face has paled; he has no clue how he's let this happen. The fact that the girl isn't Dominique keeps ringing in his mind endlessly, pervading him, as he feels his world crash down.
Maybe he's overreacting or maybe he's not; and he has no idea of what he is going to do next. He wants to escape from reality, that is the only thing he wants to do - though like many other things, he has no clue of how he is going to be successful in doing so.
/
When she wakes up, it is still the night. The black curtain of velvet is enveloping her, and what surprises her is that there is a surface of rock beneath her.
She gets up with a start and finds herself sitting on the pavement; dressed in a slinky black skirt and heels and whatnot. She lies on the side of the road, and she could easily get run over by one of those Muggle cars.
Hurriedly, she stands up. Come to think of it, she doesn't know where she is, and she has a feeling that she's not at all near home. She could be anywhere, she knows; but it feels like she's in he middle of nowhere with no means of going home.
(She thinks she's found out what she is all about, and now that she has, all she wants to do is go run away somewhere, hide, and never be seen again.)
/
He leaves his apartment and apparates to the first place he can think of.
He lands outside Dominique's apartment and finds the door locked. Where would she have gone? He can't help wondering whether she's been unfaithful like he has; but his intuition tells him that she hasn't. She isn't some local whore, no, she's Dominique Weasley, and no girl could be better than her.
Then it's time for him to face the truth. She isn't inside, she's somewhere out there in the wide world and he has no clue of where she is.
/
She walks along the borders of the road like a zombie - and to be quite honest, that's what she is feeling like. All she can think of right now is the methods of getting home. Her wand is there with her, and she could apparate if she wanted to - but she doesn't think she has enough energy. Her brain is spinning, her body is aching, her world feels torn apart.
It is like the speck of light in a dark, endless tunnel when she sees dots on the road, admittedly far away. The yellow headlights dazzle her and the car stops right besides her.
She notices that a redhead of not more than twenty is driving this vehicle, and on the backseat of the car lies a fast asleep girl of about the same age as the driver.
"Would you like a lift?" the redhead asks, and Dominique realises that she has never been so grateful to anyone before.
/
He decides that he's leaving. He'd never thought himself to be so unfaithful, because at times he felt as if he actually loved Dominique. Maybe he's being too naive, but doubts that there's anyone out there who betrays a loved one like he had done.
Leaving has been in his mind for a long time, and if he wants to be honest, he'd say that he'd wanted to go away the moment he'd left Hogwarts. But he hadn't, because there'd been Dominique, and he couldn't leave without her, now, could he?
He'd proposed leaving together, but of course, it hadn't suited her well. He'd conceded, and decided that maybe there was a time and pace of things.
Earlier, it had just been for the freedom, but now, it was something else. He should have been with her on New Year's, why hadn't he been with her? Why had he woken up in the dead of the night with a girl he'd never seen before?
Right now, his life makes even less sense than it had ever before.
/
When Caroline Tucker drops her home, she realises that she hadn't been that far away. Slowly, she's even remembering bits and pieces of last night - but to be frank, she'd rather have not. Now that she recalls, now that she remembers, she's more likely to scream her arse off than she'd ever been before.
She gets to know that Caroline Tucker lives just down the street, and decides that the nineteen-year-old redhead is her new best friend.
She gets to her door and sees one of those Muggle 'Sticky notes' on the door.
Where were you, Dom? I came here and left when I saw you weren't home.
-Ly
And now she's sobbing and shouting all at once.
/
"I want a transfer," Lysander states to his boss the next day. He sincerely doubts whether his boss is going to grant him one, but then what's the harm in asking? If she declines, he'd resign and go somewhere anyway.
"You do?" the Daily Prophet recruitments head looks up from her book and stares at Lysander after the truth of his statement sinks in. No eighteen-year-old has asked her for this before.
"Yes. I don't want to be cooped up here in England with no opportunities and no scope to improve anymore. You have so many writers that I doubt I'll ever get a break."
Ariadne Oliver tries, vainly, to hide the shock that's showing on her face.
"I- I suppose you could transfer...my belief is that both Beijing and New York have openings."
Lysander is surprised at his boss, and it appears that she is shocked at herself, too.
London or Beijing or New York? The answer is very obvious to him.
/
"Full name?"
"Dominique Gabrielle Weasley."
"Parents?"
"Fleur Isabelle and William Arthur Weasley."
"Birth date?"
"Fifth of November, 2002."
"Species?"
"One-eighth Veela, seven-eight witch.."
"Wand details?"
"Mahogany, eleven and a half inches, veela hair."
"Residence area?"
"London."
"Occupation?"
"Artist."
"Reason for visit?"
"Job opportunities."
"Thank you. The next floo passage to New York, United States of America leaves at 3 PM on the second of January, 2026. You will get a calling fifteen minutes prior to departure. Hope you enjoy your stay at the English International Floo Centre!"
The next time they meet is exactly two years later. They've both been in the city for ages now, but never realised that they'd been so close to each other.
It is a trip to the Statue of Liberty which brings them together. They're in the same boat, clustered amongst desperate, camera-claden Muggle tourists.
"Hi, I'm Lysander, but you can call me 'Sander."
"Hi, I'm Dominique, but you can call me Nic."
/
And thus, below the gigantic statue that represented freedom, and afloat foreign waters, they start anew.
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