"Found them canoodling in the Astronomy corridor," Filch said, as she and Jack stood outside the Christmas Party in front of an annoyed looking Professor Longbottom. "Out of bounds after hours. That's an automatic detention, Professor."
"Thank you, Mr. Filch," Longbottom said, his tone clipped. Whether that was because he was being told what to do or because he was there dealing with this to begin with, Dominique couldn't tell. "I'll take it from here."
Filch gave both she and Jack a smug sort of sneer before hobbling away, humming along with the music that was currently drifting out from the open party doors. In front of them, Longbottom was rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache.
"Need I remind you two that you're in the same house?"
Dominique looked confused. She glanced at Jack, who also didn't seem to understand the comment. It was he who answered with a very curious sounding, "No, sir?"
Longbottom looked at them. "What is happening tonight? I'm tearing a Slytherin couple off of each other because they can't keep their hands to themselves on the dance floor, I've got the two of you running off to closed corridors to do whatever it is Filch caught you doing because…?" He stopped and stared at them. "Why exactly? Do people not snog in the common rooms anymore? Has that stopped being something people do since I was a student?"
They both shook their heads and mumbled, "No, sir," in mixed unison.
"Then what possessed you to go to a restricted section of the school?"
Jack took a breath as if he was going to answer that, but then nothing came out. He inevitably shrugged, prompting Dominique to quip, "When the urge strikes…?"
Longbottom continued to look as if he would really rather not be having this conversation. "You're of age. You're adults. I'm not going to lecture you about what you choose to do and with whom you choose to do it with. That's none of my business."
That was a refreshing change of pace. Dominique wondered whether Longbottom had perhaps had a few drinks that evening. Maybe that was what was contributing to his laissez faire attitude. Maybe he was just eager to get back to his fancy dancing.
"I am, however, going to lecture you about where you choose to do it," he continued. "Because you've chosen to break a very clear rule. And given that you were caught by Mr. Filch, you will have to serve detention."
Dominique sighed. There it was.
"We'll deal with this after the holiday," Longbottom said, looking over his shoulder as if to check on the party. "Now do me a favor, the next time the urge strikes, can you contain yourselves until you're back in the tower where you both live? Or perhaps one of the many instances where you find yourself alone near the Quidditch pitch? Or in Hogsmeade, where you're allowed to visit every weekend as seventh-years? I could continue, but I feel as if that would be entirely inappropriate. Figure it out and stay out of the restricted areas."
"Yes, sir," they both said.
Longbottom shook his head before he turned without another word and headed back into the party. Both she and Jack stood there for a moment, casually exchanging glances before he said, "That wasn't too bad."
"We technically didn't even get detention. We got the promise of detention. Maybe he'll forget?"
He made a face as if to say that would be fortunate, but his gaze was now in the direction of the party. She wondered if he was pondering whether they should go back in or call it a night, though if he asked, she already had her answer.
"I think I'm going to head back upstairs," she said, stepping toward the stairs. "But you should stay if you want."
"I didn't want to come in the first place," he reminded her, nodding down the corridor. "I'll come with you."
The two of them proceeded to walk toward the main staircase; both quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Considering everything that had occurred in the last half an hour, things could have been far more awkward than they were. Instead, everything felt relatively normal. She felt accomplished, as if she'd just done a very good deed—one that Louis and Sarah probably wouldn't appreciate if their conversation from the tower inevitably led them to where she assumed it would. They'd probably be far too preoccupied, but she was glad she'd helped to not make their evenings worse. That is, if they still weren't up there risking their school careers.
And, she'd kissed Jack. This night had been especially strange in that she'd barely had time to process all these lovely little moments they'd been having on their not-a-real-date date. Their kiss had actually fit the theme since it was not-a-real-kiss kiss, but it had been a kiss nonetheless. A weird, hurried, uncomfortable kiss, but a kiss.
"Well, this has been...something," Jack said as they climbed the first set of stairs.
"What do you think happened with Louis and Sarah?"
He shrugged as his gaze stayed on the steps in front of him. "Hopefully, Filch was so tied up with us they had time to get out of there."
She nodded. "I can't believe Louis…" She trailed off, still completely lost and angry at the idea that he had cheated. He'd been so in love with her, even just weeks ago. What could have possibly happened to change that? What was he thinking?
"You're sure you heard—?"
"I know what I heard."
He started to shake his head as they reached the next flight of stairs. "I don't understand. I really don't."
"It's going to be a mess. Sarah's going to be…" She shook her head, not even wanting to think of it. "When she and Robbie split up in fifth year—and that was after she dumped him, remember?—she spent hours and hours talking about it. All night. I'm not sleeping tonight. It'll be like that night last year when—" She stopped when she remembered the night she was recalling, almost exactly a year ago today, but it hadn't been Sarah she'd been forced to listen to. It had been Whit; she'd been lamenting about her break up with Jack.
He was looking over at her, as if waiting for her to finish. She instead brushed it off and muttered, "I...I'm just preparing myself for a long night."
"Probably," he agreed. "Lou'd had a lot to drink even before all that happened. Who knows what shape he's going to be in."
"He'll be in worse shape once I get to him."
They didn't speak until they reached the final flight of stairs. After that, Jack finally mumbled, "Just when you think things have gone back to normal around here."
"Dominique!" yelled what she already immediately recognized as Sarah's voice. When she and Jack both did look down, Sarah was currently walking straight toward them in a whirl of anger, smudged make-up, and puffy-eyes. She stopped right in front of both of them, though her tear-streaked face settled on Dominique. "Your brother is an arsehole!"
She remembered that she wasn't supposed to know what had occurred, so she attempted to make her tone curious and play dumb. "Wha...what happened?"
"What happened is that we're fucking done!" she said, walking past both of them and continuing up the stairs. "Done! He can go and fuck himself!"
"Sarah," Jack called after her, but she completely ignored him and was already turning.
"And there it is," Dominique said.
"Shit," he whispered.
She glanced back down the stairs, assuming Louis couldn't be too far behind. They probably didn't walk back together, but where else was he going to go? Especially since he'd been drinking and was technically still in recovery. A part of her wanted to wait for him, to ask him what had happened and what was wrong with him, but she wasn't sure she could do that quite yet without yelling at him. And given that Sarah had probably been doing that the last hour or so, she knew yelling wasn't going to get her anywhere. He'd tune her right out and tell her to fuck right off. That's what she would have done.
"I'm going to..." She pointed up the stairs toward the path Sarah had just taken. "I should go catch her."
Jack nodded. "I'm going to find Louis."
"Better you than me," she muttered as the both of them parted and went in seperate directions—she up the stairs and he down them.
She had returned to their room, only to find it completely empty. She'd run into a very curious looking Natalie and Flynn back in the common room, who had apparently seen Sarah come storming through, though she hadn't answered any of Flynn's questions when asked. They'd both seen her come upstairs, and it had taken Dominique a few minutes to figure out that she was in the showers crying. She knew she wouldn't want to be interrupted in that situation—thinking back to weeks before—so she instead went back to their room to wait for her during the entire hour she was in there. When she finally had returned, she didn't hesitate to launch straight into her story.
As she spoke, she seemed to be past crying by now and had moved onto anger. By the time Natalie and Eleanor had tepidly entered their room, clearly unsure if they even should be there, Sarah had composed herself to the point where Dominique could feel the anger radiating off of her. She began the story over once more since she now had a new audience.
"He kissed another girl."
"He didn't," said Eleanor, who had stepped forward and walked over to Sarah's bed. Natalie had hung back and slowly wandered over to her own bed, but her focus was still on Sarah.
Sarah was nodding, a residual sniffle from the last half an hour escaping her.
"Who?"
"The fucking French girl!" Sarah yelled, just as Dominique quietly said, "The French champion."
Eleanor was shaking her head as Natalie looked on relatively shocked. Sarah glanced over at the latter of the two, as if finally noticing she was there. Dominique had expected a snide comment or a put down, but she instead muttered, "You were the clever one. You dumped him before he could fuck you over."
Natalie said nothing. Her face remained expressionless.
"I don't understand," Eleanor said. "What happened exactly?"
That was the question Dominique wanted to know; she was afraid she was getting only one side of the story. Not that there was anything Louis could say to make what he did make any sense, but she wanted to know why? What had possessed him to do such a thing? How had he gone from being madly in love with her weeks ago to kissing another girl? It didn't make any sense. That wasn't who her brother was—at least, as far as she knew.
"It happened in that bloody fucking cave he was trapped in," Sarah said, looking at Eleanor. "So, while I was sitting worrying if he was even alive, he was snogging some girl—"
"Wasn't he near death in that cave?" Natalie asked, speaking for the first time. "Isn't that why he was in hospital for over a week?"
"I mean, maybe not at first," Dominique said, leaning up against her bedpost. "He was in there for hours, but I'd assume the first couple he may have doing alright."
"Oh no, he was doing better than fucking alright," Sarah spat.
"How do you get trapped in a cave and think, 'Hey, I think I'm going to try and snog someone'?"
"He says the mountain fucked up his head," Sarah said, her voice dripping with acrimony. "That it wasn't just the cave, but the entire time he was on it that magic was messing with his mind and making him think he was dying, or in love, or wanting to jump off a cliff, or some bollocks excuse he's making up. Apparently, he's fine fighting it off the rest of the time, but not when he's in a cave with some girl." She looked away. "I bet it wasn't even an accident they were in there together."
"I mean, he did mention to me the whole weird head spells messing with him," Dominique offered. "I don't think he's necessarily making that up."
Sarah glared at her.
"I'm just…" She shrugged. "He did say that. Maybe since he was weak and beaten down once he was trapped, after awhile—"
"Stop defending him!" Sarah yelled. "For fuck's sake. Just stop!"
The room had already been quiet, but now you could hear a pin drop. It was almost as if somehow, even the white noise of the rest of the school had even managed to be sucked up into the silence. They were all staring at each other, though Sarah was glaring straight at Dominique.
"I wasn't trying to…" Dominique said slowly, though she realized she was. She'd been attempting to shine some light on the situation and make sense of things, but it didn't change that Louis had kissed another girl and cheated. Making sense of it wasn't going to take the pain or the betrayal away. It wasn't going to make Sarah feel better.
The rest of the night, Sarah continued to talk. She claimed that at the party, she and Louis finally rowed about his coldness toward her lately. He claimed it came down to the fact that he was wracked with guilt and couldn't look at her without feeling like shit. He was attempting to push her away because he didn't know if he could tell her the truth, but then he had. It all came spilling out of him once she called him out.
The entire act of betrayal had been bad enough, but the way he'd tried to hurt her even after the fact had made it even worse. She'd actually told him to enjoy his trip to Beauxbatons where he could go and see his new girlfriend before storming away. She painted a picture of a very ugly and messy scene atop that Astronomy Tower; Dominique had only caught the briefest snip of it. She decided not to tell Sarah anything about that for the moment. Perhaps some other time.
Sarah had eventually exhausted herself from all the crying and venting, which combined with the alcohol she'd already been drinking all night, caused her to shut her eyes during a lull in the conversation and pass out in the next moment. It had been nearly one in the morning at that point. Dominique remembered checking the clock.
Natalie had stood up and left after that, while Eleanor retired to her own bed without a word. Dominique had tried to lie down and close her eyes, but she now had too much on her mind to fall asleep. It may have been one in the morning, but you could have told her mind it was noon. None of this made any sense. None of it. This was not the Louis she knew and—while she did believe it—she also couldn't believe it. What the hell was happening?
She peeled herself out of bed and—in her pajamas—walked out of her room, down the stairs, and into the bustling common room. Even at this hour, it was still fairly busy considering there was no school in the morning and everyone was set to head home on holiday. The vibe was good natured and jovial, which was in stark contrast to the room she'd just walked out of. She noticed there was no sign of Louis or Jack downstairs, but Flynn was sitting with Natalie, Flyer, and some of his friends playing cards. He and Natalie were currently very engaged in conversation, and Dominique already had a sneaking suspicion what they were talking about.
Flynn caught her eye as she wandered over and nodded, which caused Natalie to turn around abruptly as if she was worried about who might be there. She calmed considerably when she saw who it was.
"He was just asking—"
"I figured," Dominique said, cutting her off and looking directly at him. "Louis did come back at some point, right? Have you spoken to him?"
"Yeah, but barely." Flynn muttered. "He was drunk and a mess."
"He's asleep?"
"Asleep or passed out. Whatever you want to call it."
Dominique looked up toward the stairs of the boys' dormitory. She wasn't surprised that he probably drank himself into a stupor, but a part of her still wanted to see him and ask him what the fuck he was thinking. A part of her felt she should wake him up to do just that. She glanced back at Flynn. "I'm going up there."
"There's no point now. You know he's impossible to wake when he's like that."
It was true. Her brother slept heavier than anyone she'd ever met, though that was usually due to the potions he took to keep him from dreaming—or nightmaring, rather. If he remembered to take his potions on top of drinking, he was guaranteed to be out for at least twelve hours. She could march a parade through that room and he wouldn't budge.
She knew it was futile to even bother, but the urge to go up there was simply too strong at the moment. She had to see it for herself.
"We'll see about that," she said, blowing past them and heading up the boys' stairs. The corridor was quiet as she went straight to the door of the seventh-year boys' room. She was about to pound on it, but she thought better of it. Jack could be asleep, and she didn't want to startle him—or anyone who was sleeping nearby for that matter. Instead, she issued a small cursory knock. In the next second, she was already pushing their door open.
The room was dimly lit, with the only light coming from the table between Jack and Louis' beds. She heard the dull sound of Louis' radio carrying voices over to her, and noticed the curtains were drawn around his bed.
They were open entirely around Jack's, though he wasn't in it. He was actually on the floor beside his bed doing sit ups. He was turned away from her and didn't immediately notice, though as she let the door open further, the creaking eventually caught his attention. He looked up and over at her in an upside down way, given he was on his back; he seemed startled to see her because in the next moment, he'd let his head slip awkwardly and thump onto the floor. It hadn't sounded pleasant.
He'd pulled himself up quickly at that, rubbing his head as he did. "Hey. Hi. What's going on?"
"Hey," she said, smirking a little before walking over to Louis' bed. She pulled the curtain back and saw he was lying on his stomach, fast asleep, snoring loudly, and still dressed in his robes from earlier. Her suspicions were confirmed. This was totally pointless.
"He's been out for awhile," Jack said, now standing. "How's Sarah?"
"Finally fell asleep."
"How'd that go?"
"About as well as you'd expect," she said, turning toward him. "What'd this one say?"
"What you'd expect. He's fucked up about it."
"Good. He should be." She let go of the curtain she'd been holding and let it fall back into place. "I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow to tell him off."
He cracked a smile, crossing his arms over his chest as she gave the room a quick lookaround. She supposed she should leave. She'd come to yell at him, but he was asleep and there was nothing left to do here. Nothing at all. Nothing more to see. She really should be going.
She looked back at Jack.
He was still staring at Louis' bed in a vacant, lost-in-thought sort of way, though he eventually must have felt her eyes on him and snapped out of it. It was a heavy sort of silence, the kind where she wished she could have thought of something witty or clever. Instead, her mind was completely blank. Nothing was coming to her. She had to say something.
"Ballycastle win, then?" she asked, gesturing to the radio. She could hear now that he'd been listening to a roundup program for the day's Quidditch matches.
"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Obviously. It was Chudley."
"Right," she said, nodding herself before looking over toward the door. "Great. Well done." She took a deep breath. "I guess, I should—"
"Are you going to bed?" he asked, leaning casually up against the edge of his bed.
"Probably should," she said, knowing she should step toward the door, but feeling her feet rather glued to the spot in front of him. "I was hoping to get an early start tomorrow and I'm exhausted after everything that's happened."
"Yeah. Me too. It's been a night."
Another lull where they both looked at, and around, each other. She found herself shifting her weight on her feet before saying. "Parts of it were a lot of fun, though. I feel like that should be said."
"Sure, yeah," he said, uncrossing his arms. "If I'm being honest, that was probably the most interesting date I've ever been on." He grinned. "They usually don't have as much sneaking around and spying."
She laughed a little, though she found herself now caught on the fact that he'd said the word "date." He hadn't referred to it as one prior to that, even if Sarah and others had. But hearing him say it took on an entirely different meaning. "It was a date now?"
He shrugged, his expression confused. "Wasn't it always?"
"Dates just tend to be…" She trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence without sounding like an idiot. Full of romantic intention? Sexual intention? Isn't that why people went on dates? Otherwise, it was just a get together. A hang out. A meeting. A gathering. An outing. So many other proper terms to use.
"It checks a lot of boxes if you think about it," he continued. "We had to dress up—and that's optional, but we'll count it. There was food. There was drinking. There was dancing." He laughed a little before letting his eyes flicker away for a moment. "And even some kissing."
She inhaled slowly at him mentioning that part. "Sorry about that."
"Don't be, it's fine," he said. "That...that was quick thinking. Filch didn't even ask us any questions. He just marched us straight down to Longbottom."
She found herself smiling. "What's to ask? He's probably caught hundreds of students doing that over the years. He knew the drill."
"It was brilliant," he said, smiling that sweet but reserved smile she'd come to enjoy seeing so much lately. He hesitated before adding, "Probably should say it wasn't my best effort. I feel that needs to be said."
She laughed a little as if to agree, but found herself absently glancing down toward the floor. "Mine either. I think that goes without saying. I did sort of—" she gently clapped her hands together to mimic the collision, "come right at you."
He suddenly clapped his hands together much harder. "It was more like that."
"It wasn't that hard," she said defensively. "You're acting as if I smacked you in the face."
He smiled. "I mean, you did a wee bit. Smacked my face with your face."
"I'm about to smack your face with my hand," she joked as she reached out to pretend to smack him. He laughed and fended her off rather easily, grabbing her wrist in the process. When he didn't let go, her gut reaction was to use the other hand, which caused a bit of a playful tussle to break out. Once he had her rather tied up by holding onto her arms, she laughed at the predicament and gave up rather lamely.
"Alright," she said, gesturing to their tangled up arms. "You win."
"Win, what?" he asked, though he wasn't letting go of anything; she also wasn't pulling away. After a few lighthearted seconds, something shifted; they now found themselves staring at each other and engulfed by a new and very loaded silence. Given how they were looking at each other, she didn't feel as if either of them needed to say anything. Everything she wanted him to know was written all over her face. All she wanted to do was kiss him properly and make up for that abysmal display for Filch earlier. They owed it to each other to not have that be the first and only impression of the other's snogging abilities.
She suddenly stepped forward just as he was already pulling her toward him; the space between them quickly filled and she kissed him where he sat. It had happened so quickly, and before she could really process what she'd done, it was already happening. This was happening. Her lips were pressed against his. Months. She'd been waiting for this for months; the pent up tension was bursting to work its way out as she let herself get swept up.
This time, they weren't smashed together or uncomfortable. This time, everything about it was rather perfect. It was a sweet sort of kiss that made invisible butterflies fly around in her chest while the rest of her was ready to melt away into a happy pile of goo. His lips were soft and he tasted like toothpaste, which made her happier than it should have. It made everything about her tingle.
It lasted about thirty seconds before they finally pulled apart. He was slowly smiling and she could feel herself doing the same. She had no words. She truly did not know what to say.
"If that's what winning gets me, I need to win more," he finally managed to say.
She let a slight laugh escape her. "That was certainly better than the first time."
He was nodding rather absently. "I can still do better."
"Oh, I know I can," she said, wasting no time leaning straight back into him and planting her lips on his once more. This time, they both went in with more purpose. They were more assertive now; there was more movement. He'd reached behind her neck to pull her closer; she could feel his fingers running through the hair on her nape.
She pulled him as close as she could, which wasn't hard seeing as they were full on snogging now. She was now acutely aware of every moment being made. He'd pulled himself onto the bed to sit and she'd done the same. Her hand went to his face and his hand went to her side. The quick, thoughtful movements of their lips grew more heated. Her tongue was in his mouth and he matched her straight away. She had to inhale sharply through her nose, which only seemed to push him further.
She wanted to push him down the rest of the way on that bed and snog his adorable face off. She wanted to keep this up for hours; letting the minutes pass until things inevitably led to whatever this could turn into. She wanted to get worked up even further than she already was; she wanted to touch and explore, but she couldn't. She had to fight the urge because...
"Why do you have to live with my brother?" she said a little breathlessly once she'd managed to break away from his lips for a half second.
He hummed in a way that seemed to say he understood, "I'm pretending he's not here."
"I need to pretend harder," she said, though as she spoke the words, the door to their room opened.
She didn't look or even bother to pull herself off of him, but she did hear Flynn's unmistakable voice say, "Oh, shit, sorry. Shit. You're supposed to put something on the door. Sorry."
They'd stopped then—though not with any particular urgency; they didn't even let go or pull their faces apart right away. Jack actually took the moment to let his forehead thump lightly onto hers, as if accepting a small defeat in their discovery. He finally glanced over at Flynn. "Didn't have time."
Flynn was already halfway out the door. "I can go back down—"
"No," Dominique said, stepping back and immediately setting to straighten herself out. "It's fine. I should go anyway. It's late."
"No, don't let me..." Flynn began to stammer. "Don't let me spoil anything."
She threw him a funny look before gesturing to Louis' bed. "You can't spoil anything that my brother sleeping five feet away already hasn't." She glanced back at Jack, who was smiling in a dazed sort of way. She returned it, not really knowing what else to say other than. "See you tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Definitely."
Flynn was still standing there looking rather conflicted, seemingly unsure as to what he should be doing. She threw him a lazy nod before walking past him out the door, calling a quick, "Night," over her shoulder as she walked out into the dimly lit corridor.
She stood there for a moment, inhaling slowly but also now grinning in a way she couldn't hide if she tried. Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that? She stopped to lean against the nearest wall. Her head was spinning and she could not stop smiling. It happened so fast. She closed her eyes, attempting to remember everything. What could have been…?
"Hey, Nic—" Jack called after her, appearing to half hang out of his room as he did so. He'd shouted a bit, though he quickly lowered his volume once he realized she wasn't down by the stairs as he'd probably assumed, but instead was right outside of his door. He blinked as if surprised to see her there, and she awkwardly pulled herself up off the wall.
"Hey. Hi. Sorry?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and attempting to look casual.
To his credit, Jack asked her no questions, just smiled and stepped out of his room toward her. "I wanted you to know that I had a great night."
She smiled a little, still trying to remain cool and collected despite simultaneously wanting to melt into a puddle. "I did, too. We should do it again. Without all the drama. Maybe a bit more privacy?"
He smiled. "Yeah, let's work that out." He almost seemed as if he wanted to kiss her again, and while she wanted to be pressed up against him, she was also in a strange place where a gesture like that seemed awkward. It was one thing when they were caught up in the heat of the moment, but a proper kiss goodnight seemed so...official and relationship-y. She wasn't quite sure she was ready for that part yet.
She laughed awkwardly and stepped backward, knowing that if she kept this up, she'd reach the stairs eventually. "Right. Well, have a good night."
"Night," he said with a curious sort of stare, watching as she reached the point where she felt the floor grow colder under her feet. She'd stepped off the floor and reached the stone stairway. She smiled at him once more before she turned to face forward and called one last, "Night" over her shoulder before heading down the stairs.
She made her way down the stairs and across the common room. Awkward parts aside, she again forced herself to remember the actual snogging. That was fantastic. That was six bloody months of build up for such an incredibly satisfying pay off that she already knew exactly what she would be thinking about tonight as she tried to fall asleep tonight. She was going to let her mind wander as to where that could have gone had Louis and Flynn not been a factor.