The story of the Gryffindor common room fight had naturally circulated throughout the school at lightning pace. By dinner that evening, the witnesses all seemed to have some version to tell those who hadn't seen what happened. Rumors were running rampant, with some people latching onto the theory that Sarah was trying to sabotage Louis' new relationship; others said Jack and Louis were fighting over something that had to have happened with Dominique.
No one who wasn't in their inner circle knew the exact details, but it did get out that Louis and Sarah had hooked up after the ball. Once that became widely known, people seemed to start putting together a weak version of what they assumed had happened. Most people were more interested in the fact that Jack had apparently bashed Louis' face in—because that's what everyone was saying.
That rumor held water because no one saw Louis after it happened; he'd been sent to the hospital wing on Professor Longbottom's orders, which made Dominique wonder just how badly Jack had damaged Louis' face if it required an extended stay there. But after speaking to Professor Longbottom after the fact, she was happy to hear that his request had actually nothing to do with Louis' nose and everything to do with his mental state.
"Professors McGonagall and Flitwick are currently with him," Longbottom had told Dominique after he'd found her on her way to dinner. "I caught her up to speed and she took matters into her own hands. I've also owled your parents and I'm currently waiting to hear back from them. We all feel it best that Louis be admitted to the hospital wing until we can properly get a grasp on what's happening here. Given what you've told me, and the stories I've heard from Mr. Ians and Miss Kirke, as well as speaking to Louis first hand, it's clear something is wrong."
Dominique nodded. She'd wanted to ask him what he'd noticed specifically, but she didn't. She could only hope this was now the first step to getting him properly sorted out.
"Also, and I only just learned from Professor McGonagall upon her arrival back, but it seems Madame Maxime put in a request just this morning to have Louis barred from even approaching the Beauxbatons' carriage."
"She did?"
He was nodding. "Apparently, Miss Bellamy doesn't feel comfortable around him and made the request herself. Professor McGonagall didn't have time to elaborate on the details, though she felt it was a strange request. We've never known anyone to have a problem with Louis to the point where they felt he needed to be barred, but of course she agreed so Miss Bellamy would be granted peace of mind." He sighed. "Now that the Headmistress knows the entire story, she understands."
"But he did go there," Dominique said. "Because he'd told people she wouldn't see him. Did he know he wasn't supposed to visit?"
"He did," Longbottom said. "Professor McGonagall spoke to him this morning before the Quidditch match, but we know now he didn't listen. Upon asking him why he didn't listen, he gave a very typical response of someone under a love spell. Professor Holt has brewed a new cauldron of that original potion to help him function, while Professor Flitwick is currently very busy attempting to sort things out. Hopefully, we've got things under control now."
'Hopefully,' he'd said, which left room for doubt and uncertainty. There was no guarantee they would be able to sort Louis out, but Dominique knew now that he had a far better shot now than when she'd been the one trying to keep him in check. She was starting to learn that nothing—not a thing—was guaranteed any longer. When she started Hogwarts, she could remember thinking how the professors could fix anything. Now she knew better.
Longbottom had told her he would keep her informed and let her know if he heard from her parents. He'd left her standing just outside the Great Hall feeling a little lost. She was supposed to be eating dinner, but she wasn't hungry. She didn't even want to go back up to the common room because everyone was still talking about the fight and, consequently, staring at her or attempting to get information out of her. It had already happened earlier, once she'd returned to wait out Jack and Sarah while they'd been in Longbottom's office. She hadn't even gotten through the portrait hole before three people had rushed her, first asking if she'd heard what had happened before then following with questions as to why it had.
She'd retreated to her room to hide behind the curtains of her bed until she heard the sounds of her door opening and someone calling her name. When she'd pulled them back, she'd found Sarah standing in the doorway.
"What happened?"
"Longbottom just asked me what I saw," she said. "He had a few questions. He sent Louis to the hospital wing, but let Jack and me leave to come back here."
"Is he downstairs?" Dominique asked as she pulled herself off the bed.
Sarah nodded. Dominique barrelled past her and out the door, down the stairs into the common room, where she found Jack sitting with Flynn. Tommy and some of the sixth-years were standing around him, as if they'd rushed over to find out more about what had happened.
She and Jack immediately made eye contact and she'd noticed he did have a purple bruise under his left eye. It didn't look awful, but it did make her take—what felt like—her hundredth heavy breath of the day.
"You should have seen the other guy," Tommy said to her as she approached, her eyes never leaving Jack's face. He'd been the only one to speak and had clearly been attempting to lighten the mood. As usual, he missed the mark.
She sat down next to Jack, immediately inspecting his face as he turned to look at her. "Does it hurt?"
He shook his head.
"How are you feeling?"
He shrugged.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He still didn't answer, but he did glance around at everyone else, as if signifying that he didn't as long as everyone else was here. Sarah got the hint and swatted Flynn; now suggesting that they could go work on Herbology some more—which he balked at. The sixth-years followed suit and dispersed, leaving both she and Jack alone.
He stared at her, his expression rather hollow. She smiled at him, but he didn't react. She reached out and let her hand rest on his thigh, giving him a rub. "Are you alright?"
"I broke my best friend's nose. Would you be alright?"
"You were defending yourself."
"I didn't have to fucking hit him," he muttered. "I could have taken him loads of other ways. I could have used a spell. Instead, I just...did it."
"Because he hit you," she said, reaching up to run her thumb gently over his bruise. "You may not have started it, but you had every right to finish it."
When he didn't respond, she added, "Sarah said he was reaching for his wand. You may be able to do more damage with your fists, but had Lou gotten his wand out, he could have..." She hesitated. She didn't know what Louis had planned on doing with his wand, but she knew he could do some serious damage.
He sat there letting her examine his bruise, his gaze never leaving her face as she did. "I didn't know if you'd be angry."
"With you?" She shook her head. "You did what you had to do." She lowered her hand and looked at him. "I wish I'd have been there. I'd have saved you and Sarah the trouble."
"There would have still been trouble," he muttered. "You didn't see him. He was unhinged. I wouldn't have let you take him on your own."
She smiled. "He's my brother. He doesn't scare me."
"You didn't see him," he repeated in a faraway tone. "Before today, I would have never thought I'd ever punch him in the face."
They fell into an odd sort of silence. She found herself watching her hand move on his thigh for several quiet moments. "Did you get in any trouble?"
He shook his head. "I didn't even get detention. Longbottom said something about knowing everyone is under a tremendous amount of stress. Emotions are high and people are lashing out. It's apparently common this time of year."
Dominique had to assume Longbottom was trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation given all the information he'd come to discover as of late, because this was clearly more than typical end of term stress.
"I think he understands Louis' going through some shit, just as you are," Jack said, causing Dominique to look at him. She hadn't had the chance to tell Jack everything she'd told Longbottom, so he was coming to this conclusion on his own. "He's a good bloke. He's not like Holt or Ivanson who just dole out punishments and don't care. He listens. He went easy on you after the Camp Out. He's going easy on Lou now because I think he knows detentions aren't going to do shit at this point. Louis needs more than that."
She looked away at that, nodding very slowly. "He does. He really needs help right now."
"I know he does," he said rather solemnly. "And instead of giving it to him, I punched him in the face."
The news that followed was that Louis would be sent to St. Mungo's, which ended up lasting for three days. It marked his second trip there—and his fourth visit to a hospital facility— in the last six month. Even Dominique couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone as to what was happening to him, though Longbottom continued to insist that he was being taken care of by people like Healer Cane. He'd said Professor McGonagall had reached out to the best people; the best Healers and experts in the subject of mind altering spells. He'd apparently been put into a sedated state so that his mindly could properly rest and be looked into.
She'd even gotten a letter from her father, who, along with her mother, had apparently gone and visited him. They'd spoken to McGonagall, and apparently—like Dominique—were being told that it was all under control and it was nothing to be too concerned with. He'd said Louis had looked good, and that the expert from the hospital expected to have the spell completely extracted from him any day now. That wasn't to say that it wouldn't have still left a mark on him in some way, but that remained to be seen.
She'd also gotten a long letter from her mother, seemingly irate that Louis' love spell had been basically ignored until now. She didn't seem to blame Dominique—which made her wonder how much of the story she actually knew—but she was livid with DiSilva for not reporting his findings accurately. By the tone of her letter, Dominique almost felt that her mother was seconds away from Portkeying to Beauxbatons herself to end him...if she hadn't already.
"Glad to hear he's doing well," came a voice that caused her to look up from her mother's letter, which she'd been reading in the Great Hall over breakfast. From beside her, Jack also looked up. Standing in front of the pair of them was Javier. He was now pointing to her head. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I'd actually walked over to ask if you'd heard anything about Louis."
She watched as he introduced himself to Jack, since they'd apparently never met. Once introductions were settled, Dominique folded up the letter from her mother's letter and said, "They're getting the spell out, I'm told. It's the best news I could ask for. I only wish I'd have said something sooner."
Javier was nodding. She still hadn't spoken much to him since his arrival, outside of informing him about Louis being sent off to the hospital in passing on the day she'd found out. He'd seemed surprised, but hadn't said anything more about it. He'd merely asked to keep him posted if anything happened.
"We really should have said something," Javier finally said. "DiSilva's fucking brilliant, but spell damage isn't his area of expertise. He's a Legilimens. There were probably loads of other people who should have dealt with Louis before him. I guess I just assumed too much of him."
Dominique stared at him. "I see that now. I'm still not quite sure why I put all my eggs into his basket. He couldn't even figure out the problems he'd saddled me with for the rest of my life. The stuff I'm going to have to live with forever."
Javier looked at her, and she didn't have to be a mind reader to realize what he was thinking. She'd completely come to accept that she was now stuck the way she was; that there was no going back. There was possible growth and there was working through things, but there was no easy fix. This was the new her.
"I was really hoping he could have helped you," he said, "Truly."
She shrugged. "I was, too. I was more hoping he could have helped my brother."
Javier sighed. "Last I read him, his head was unrecognizable. It was as if the different spells and damage, combined with the potion's withdrawal caused him to…" He sighed. "He'd gone off the rails."
"So, you saw him that day?" Jack asked, speaking up now.
He nodded. "I was the one who told him he couldn't come near the carriage. Amalie knew he was off his potion. She'd arranged with our chaperone, who talked to Madame Maxime, to keep him away because—unlike back at our school—she really has nowhere to go and nowhere to avoid him. She refused to see him. But then I saw him coming and I tried to cut him off, make him come walk with me.
"He was already angry when I saw him, very heated. He said he needed to see Amalie and needed to tell her how much he loved her; to ask her how she felt. But I told him he couldn't. She didn't want to see him. I think given how mad he looked, I ended up sort of shouting it at him to get through to him."
He looked across the room. "That made him more angry. He immediately started asking if this had to do with his ex, and whether Amalie had found out about them. I knew what he was talking about because I'd heard his ex that morning yelling at him in the Great Hall, but I wasn't sure why he jumped to that conclusion. He kept yelling that it wasn't true and that I needed to tell her that. He needed to see her."
His face grew concerned. "It was bad. All I did was keep saying he had to go. She didn't want to see him and he needed to accept that." He sighed. "But you can't argue with a spell. I don't know why I tried.
Dominique nodded. "You're not the only one who's tried."
He was nodding slowly before looking her in the eyes. "He's really fucked up right now."
"I know," she said. "Trust me, I know."
While everyone who was in-the-know seemed happy that Louis was getting proper help, Dominique wasn't sure what version of her brother she was going to get when he got out of the hospital. She wasn't optimistic that all of her problems were to be solved and that he would be back to his regular, previous self. Life wasn't neat and clean like that. While she hoped that something could be done about his love spell and the controlling nature it had on him, it still didn't eliminate all of the other issues that had since popped up. She'd realized that she was never going to be the same; why should she expect him to be?
She only knew that she didn't want to fight with him. The old her would have craved the drama and the confrontation, but the person she was today wanted nothing to do with it. She wanted to have her brother back; she wanted to be boring and focus on her exams and get through the next—and arguably the most important—week of her school career; she wanted to live out her last memories of Hogwarts with her friends in a normal, typical fashion.
But nothing about this year had been typical to date. Why would things change now?
Even with everything happening, when the time came, she threw herself into her exams and their preparation. She read over her notes and her revisions, she practiced her spell work, she helped her friends—even Flynn—with theirs, and when she walked into her first exam—Transfiguration—on Monday morning, she felt more prepared than she'd ever been in her entire life.
She'd been rather terrified once she'd been instructed to pick up her quill and begin the written part of the exam. She couldn't help but play Longbottom's conversation with her over in her head now; how good N.E.W.T. scores could open doors for the Weasley name alone wouldn't have. She needed something to show for her years of schooling if she ever hoped to land any sort of career in life.
She'd started at her test booklet for the first minute—not even bothering to open it until she noticed Lira Chin sitting catty-corner to her and scribbling fiercely into her own booklet. It snapped her out of her anxious daze, and she found once she actually tried, she was surprised to see she knew the material. The information was pouring out of her; her essay was...decent; the answers came to her quickly. By the end, she felt as if she'd done well; she'd even finished before everyone other than Ansel Baileymoore.
All of her exams were turning out like that. The written parts seemed easy; the practical applications weren't nearly as nerve-racking as she'd assumed. Her Charms proctor had been the nicest woman alive and had even commended her memory for some of the more obscure things she'd asked for. Her Transfiguration proctor had even smiled at her—and she discovered later from others that he'd been as cold as ice to many of them.
She knew her Runes. Astronomy hadn't seemed difficult. Defense Against the Dark Arts had even been a bit fun to demonstrate some of her spells. She'd felt good about her performances; there was nothing she couldn't handle. She knew she was fortunate in that respect; that it shouldn't have been that easy for her, but she was determined not to feel bad about it. This was her new normal after all; she felt certain of that now. She'd simply gotten lucky in the timing—if anyone could call it luck.
Her friends didn't feel so confident. Sarah swore up and down that she'd completely botched her Potions' written exam, which would ruin her life because she needed at least an "E" to be considered to work in the department she wanted at the Ministry. Flynn was now walking around claiming he'd be lucky to get three N.E.W.T.s when all was said and done. Natalie said she legitimately blacked out on her Charms exam because she couldn't remember a single moment, but was quite confident in both of her Divination performances.
Jack had been similarly stressed, though he didn't say much one way or the other after he finished an exam. Every reaction was very much, "What's done is done" and "I can't change it now," so he didn't dwell. When his Herbology exam came midweek, Dominique—feeling confident enough in her Astrology knowledge—had decided to help him rather than cram more in for the following day herself. She'd even tried to make a bit of a fun game out of it.
"I'll take off a piece of clothes for every review answer you get right," she'd said as she sat across from him in his bed; books and parchment strewn between them.
He laughed. "How's that supposed to make me focus on Herbology? I hate that subject as it is. If you start taking your clothes off, I'm done."
She smirked as she read over his revision. "I wouldn't get ahead of yourself in thinking I'll be taking much off." She looked up at him. "I've read your notes. I think we'll both be safely studying Herbology for the rest of the evening." She tossed the pages over to him. "Thank Merlin, you're good at Quidditch."
He laughed once more while also muttering, "Shut it." With a tired sigh, he added. "At least ask some easy ones at first and let me think I'm making progress."
And while she had thrown him a few easy ones that allowed her to lose her socks and jumper, when she started throwing him more exam level questions, he'd gotten two wrong and forced her to put stuff back on. This back and forth continued until Dominique ended up sitting with one sock on and one sock off for a good ten minutes. After he'd gotten three in a row wrong, she'd actually resorted to reaching down into his own trunk and pulling out his own jumper to put on.
He managed to groan and laugh at the same time as he watched her pull it over her head. "Don't do that."
"Rules are rules," she said, now feeling particularly warm with all of the multiple layers. "Keep it up and I'll be wearing your blankets soon enough."
"I'm hopeless," he said with a lazy sigh as he tossed his book to the side. "Sometimes I wonder why I ever kept on with Herbology."
"You were doing fine with the herb identification, but you really need to work on practical applications for medicinal—"
The door to the room had opened then, causing both of them to turn and look. She'd been expecting Flynn to walk in, lamenting about how he was doomed to fail and would probably not be fit to be anything more than Filch's assistant, but she quickly saw that it wasn't Flynn at all. When her eyes landed on Louis standing there, she felt something drop into the pit of her stomach.
His face was still showing signs of the fight, with bruising and purple circles under his eyes. His nose looked surprisingly fine, no signs of permanent damage or crookedness. His eyes met hers first, though they slowly traveled over to Jack's before he placed his attention on his bed. He said nothing as he walked over to it.
She glanced over at Jack, noticing that he too was watching Louis rather tentatively. They shared a quick look as the air became rife with thick tension. No one was saying anything.
Louis was in his trunk now, looking for something inside. She and Jack continued to exchange silent glances, though she'd finally had enough and decided she wasn't going to let any of this go on for any longer. She tossed Jack's Herbology revision to the side and turned toward Louis' bed.
"You're back."
He didn't answer her. He continued searching through his trunk.
"Louis."
Still no answer.
"Will you at least tell me if you're ignoring me? Or whether I now have to worry your hearing's been affected, too?"
"I'm ignoring you."
Well, that was a start. She pulled herself up off of the bed and walked over to where he was still in his trunk. She wasn't even sure where to begin. What had happened to him? What had those experts done? Was he on any potions? Was the spell gone? She had so many questions, but she knew of at least one way to find out the most important answer.
"How's Amalie?" she asked.
No reaction. He didn't even look up. He was pulling out a small red book that looked familiar to her, though she couldn't place. He absently flipped through a few pages before shutting it and closing his trunk. He didn't even look at her as he stood and started walking over to his bed.
He hadn't smiled at Amalie's name. He hadn't gone on some long winded rant about how she was the most amazing girl he'd ever known; he hadn't even acknowledged her. He was busy flipping through the little red book. That...was fantastic. That was everything.
"They worked the spell out of you," she said with a small smile, though Louis still didn't react to her. She glanced back over to Jack, who was sitting up straighter and watching the entire display.
Louis had finally turned to look at her, but there was nothing she recognized in his familiar blue eyes. They were the same eyes she saw in the mirror every morning, only hers weren't framed by purple bruises.
"You're still angry with me, then," she said, cutting through the silence. "Look, I understand I lied to you, but you were impossible to reason with while you were under that spell—"
"I'm ignoring you because I want to," he said plainly and without any emotion. His gaze looked empty, as if someone had turned the lights out inside of him. She'd actually felt rather unnerved by his response. "I don't want to talk to you."
"You don't get to make that choice. Especially since we need to talk."
"No, we don't."
"Yes, we do."
"I don't want to talk to you," he repeated. "And I don't have to. This is my room; you can leave now."
She gaped for a second. Where did he get off thinking he could walk in here and start barking out orders?
"Since this is also my room," Jack said, speaking up, "she doesn't have to leave."
Louis looked over at him with a look that could have further frozen ice. He then settled back on her. "You're not supposed to be in here after curfew."
"Since when do we follow that rule?" Jack asked. "You've broken that rule a hundred times. We all have."
Louis shrugged. "We do now. Ten points from Gryffindor."
"What!?" she said, right as Jack said, "Are you serious? You're taking away points for that?"
"I'll take away more if she sticks around." He turned away from her. "Go away."
She glanced back at Jack, who was looking rather gobsmacked by the entire exchange. Louis so badly wanted her gone, to avoid speaking to her, that he was taking points away from his own house for a rule that absolutely no one ever followed. That was madness.
"Fuck it. Fine," Jack muttered, standing himself and grabbing his books. "We'll go to the common room."
"That is what it's for," Louis snarked in an obvious way. It caused Jack to round on him, and they both started at each for what felt like a very charged minute. It had definitely passed the point of normal staring when Louis finally said. "Are you going to hit me again?"
Jack slowly shook his head. "I already did enough damage." With that, he grabbed the rest of his study materials and breezed past Dominique toward the door. "Come on, Nic."
Louis had gone to his bed and was already drawing the curtains around them as she started to follow after Jack. It wasn't until she'd reached the door that he had called out, "Don't worry, the final task is right around the corner. The way my luck's been going, maybe you'll be rid of me after that."
She stared at him from the doorway, her head already shaking. "Nobody wants that, Louis."
He didn't even acknowledge her. Instead, he pulled the curtains closed entirely.
Everything was ending. Quidditch, N.E.W.T.s, her classes, her sense of normalcy. For all intents and purposes, everything was done.
While the younger students were now preparing their annual exam week, everyone in their fifth and seventh-years were completely finished. They still had to attend classes—so as to not disrupt the flow of the school day for everyone else—but their professors were letting them do whatever they wanted.
Charms had turned into a class wide experiment into silly and experimental magic that Flitwick entertained them with. Ivanson and Fletchly would let them play cards and games. Holt was letting his potions students create elixirs of their own creation; the most creative or useful winning a prize. Longbottom was actually letting everyone out onto the grounds around the greenhouses to relax and soak up the nicer weather.
It was strange to be done; to have gone from a daily routine so tightly wound and hectic, to absolutely nothing. She'd had this luxury after taking O.W.L.s, but that was different. That was the end of one school year that would soon be followed by the next one. This time, it felt like the end. There would be no more late night study sessions or scrambling to find time to get essays finished. There would be no more desperate attempt to finish work over breakfast. Everything they'd spent the last seven years learning had come out in those exams. Everything was done.
Random Ministry people were starting to appear around the castle in more frequency, which meant the final task really was happening any day now. The rumor was that it would be held on Friday due to the way the professors set up their exam schedules. No one seemed to have any exams on Friday—which was strange—and with the term ending the following week, it couldn't possibly be delayed further.
And seeing as Louis was still refusing to speak to her—or anyone, really—he wasn't providing any insights as to when it might have been. Sarah claimed she'd overheard Zara mentioning needing to be prepared for Friday for some reason, and Longbottom had made an innocuous comment about being in touch with her parents for their visit later in the week. Everyone was rather convinced, though it took until Wednesday morning for anyone to make any official announcement that the final task would take place on Friday.
"When my mum was here," Dominique was saying to the group of them over dinner on that Thursday night—the eve of the task, "you could see the giant hedge maze they'd grown for the final task. Everyone sort of knew what to expect. This time, there's nothing."
"You'd mentioned there was an underwater task," Sarah said. "Maybe it will be something like that?"
"I was hoping for dragons," Flynn sulked.
Dominique rolled her eyes. As obnoxious as Louis had been, she still did not want him to get eaten by a dragon. Though, given his mood lately, perhaps the dragon would be the one who needed to worry.
Louis had stayed up in his room, behind drawn curtains, for most of the last few days. He did get up and go somewhere—perhaps on his walks with Javier—but whenever he was back in Gryffindor Tower, his room is where he remained. Jack had tried to talk to him repeatedly, only to get little to no response. Flynn had more luck, but that was probably because Flynn had nothing of substance to talk about, which Louis apparently responded to. When Dominique asked Flynn what they'd spoken about, the answer had been music—and a conversation about fart jokes.
"I heard a rumor there would be broom flying involved," Eleanor offered. It caused everyone—Dominique, in particular—to stare at her.
"Who told you that?"
"Ansel mentioned something about it," she said. "He says his uncle knows someone who knows someone who knows someone—"
"That's a lot of someones," Jack mumbled.
"Well, they apparently had some information," she continued. "It's only a part of it, though. Not the whole task. He doesn't know what else there is."
"Baileymoore just enjoys hearing himself talk," Dominique muttered; when Eleanor shot her a look, she added, "You know it's true."
"Well, so do you," Eleanor countered.
"I wouldn't necessarily believe Baileymoore," Jack said. "But I will say that if there's flying involved, Zara's going to crush each and every one of them. She's amazing on a broom."
"And Javi—who's in second place—does not fly," Dominique added, "Mentioned it to me when I was in France. I don't remember hearing anything about the others."
"But Louis can fly now," Flynn said. "Can't he?"
"He's got the ability, but none of the training," Dominique said. "I guess he's better off than he was, but—" She shrugged. "Jack's right. No one is touching Zara."
"Almost seems a bit too convenient," Flynn said. "That the task would play to one of Zara's strengths. I thought McGonagall was supposed to be above stacking the deck in Hogwarts' favor like the other schools were doing?"
"It's not as if this task hasn't been planned for ages," Sarah said with a roll of her eyes. "No one could have known Zara would be in first place."
"But they knew she was in the tournament."
"So, you're saying someone in charge took a chance on Zara, not Louis, and decided to work the task around her? That makes sense to you?"
"Eleanor said it was rumored to only be a part of it," Flynn argued. "Maybe the other half caters to Louis?" He glanced around. "What are his strengths these days?"
"Shouting at people?" Sarah offered. "Sulking?"
"Hiding behind bed curtains and blaring terrible music?" Jack added.
"I don't know. I kind of like Vraa," said Flynn.
Dominique shook her head at the group of them before muttering, "Stop." While she understood everyone's frustrations with Louis lately—she had them as well—it didn't feel right to make light of them. She knew that somewhere, inside that head of his, he was still in there. It was just going to take patience and time to get him back to something close to what it was.
"She's right," Jack said with a heavy sigh. "This isn't even worth discussing. We're basing this off a rumor from Ansel Baileymoore." He made a face. "Look at the source."
"What's wrong with the source?" Eleanor protested.
After dinner, they found themselves back in the common room, where the atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful. Friends and groups were spread out throughout every corner, enjoying their new freedom from homework and looming exams. The older students naturally had spread themselves over the best sofas in the center near the fireplace. Flynn and Tommy had started challenging each other to some random game of questions, which naturally meant it was an incredibly stupid game.
"Wildest place you hooked up with someone here at school?" Flynn asked him. "Has to be more than kissing. Some bits have to have been at least partially exposed."
"On the lake shore, but it was in December," Tommy offered. "That's what made it wild. Fucking freezing. Do not recommend it."
"With who?" asked Flynn.
"That wasn't the question," Tommy said, casting a glance over to his friends, which included Kenley and his roommate, Benji.
"It was not me," Kenley said immediately. "So, you all can stop looking at me like that. I would never."
"Never try somewhere risky?" asked Flynn,
She scoffed. "No, never do anything like that outside in December. I've done risky. The restricted section of the library, for one."
That earned her a few impressed sounding, "Woahs" and one, "How did you even get back there?" Tommy was wrinkling his face up in confusion, now clearly attempting to wrap his head around that comment. "With who?"
"That wasn't the question," she said, repeating it back to him.
"Then it must have been Madam Pince," he said to her. "Otherwise, I'm not seeing how else you'd even be allowed in there." She immediately threw him an exasperated look.
"Is the prefects' bathroom considered risky?" Sarah asked. "Because around here, that's probably the most interesting place I've got."
"Eh," Flynn shrugged. "You weren't the first. You won't be the last. I'm going to say no."
"Benji swears he's got a handjob in the Charm's corridor in the middle of the school day," Tommy said, which—other than seeming impossible given how well-traveled and exposed that corridor was—Benji now looked as if he wasn't about to own up to that. "And Nicki's probably checked off most of the Quidditch arena."
While not untrue, she still threw him a look that screamed, "Fuck off."
"I figure Jack could probably check off a few spots around there these days, too," Tommy added as he glanced over at him. "Would you at least admit that the times you were late to practice earlier on was because you two were off fucking around? You weren't fooling anyone. I just want to hear you say it."
Jack smirked at him, looking perfectly fine to not have to answer his question. He did nothing more than shrug.
"You're an arse, you know that?" Tommy said.
"My question," Kenley asked, looking straight at Dominique. "Did you ever...on the pitch?"
She shook her head. "Never there."
"I feel you need to make that happen," Tommy said, though he was glancing between Jack and Dominique. "It's the top of the mountain. You can't not go for the gold. It's not as if they can suspend you."
"Yeah, and it's not as if you have anywhere else to go," Flynn joked. "Seeing as Louis' gone and made sure Nicki can't even be in our room."
That was true. With Louis posted up in the boys' room all the time, it made it next to impossible for her to be up there. Even during the hours she was permitted to be there, it wasn't as if she and Jack could do anything other than talk. Louis being there was an obvious deterrent, but even if they didn't care and still went about their business, he could get them into trouble for something as simple as kissing. These were the rules no one really paid attention to, but he was suddenly following them to the letter. She knew he was doing it on purpose; he wanted to piss her and Jack off so that they would avoid him.
"He's so bloody petty," Sarah muttered.
"It's strange because petty wasn't a word I'd have used to describe Louis before any of this," Flynn said as he looked back at Dominique. "You, sure, but not Louis."
"I was never that petty," she said.
A strange silence fell over the group, with everyone avoiding her gaze except for Sarah. She was looking at her as if she was daft for even suggesting it. Dominique even turned to look at Jack, noting that he was making a face that clearly said he wouldn't necessarily agree with that. He was just clever enough not to say it out loud.
"You can all piss off."
The chatter carried on for most of the night; the energy of the room bouncy and animated as people came and went. There was a definite excitement in the air with the tournament looming tomorrow. Many people probably wouldn't even sleep much that night.
Dominique tried to take it all in as best she could, seeing as this time next week, she could no longer do any of this. Sure, she could sit around with her friends while talking and laughing, but it wouldn't be the same, Here in this common room, they were all forced into this moment; it would never be like this again. Eventually, their group would slowly start to pull apart; they'd make new friends and eventually stop seeing each other. That's what everyone always said.
As she looked around, she felt she and Sarah would probably keep in touch. Flynn would disappear eventually, as would most of the others. She had no plans for Jack to go anywhere, but who knew what ideas the universe held. There was still a very good chance he would move away for Quidditch, and she still wasn't sure if she could handle that. If they had to break up for some reason, they would probably drift apart as well. She wanted to be with him, but she could only take things one day at a time.
Then Louis. She never, ever, would have thought she'd have to consider the shape of their relationship, but she honestly didn't know anymore. It was beyond strange to be sitting with her friends—their friends—in the common room and he wasn't a part of it. It had been one thing when he was off in another country, but he was upstairs. He was doing nothing more than being petty and avoiding everyone because he didn't want to be around them.
He'd always been the social one, whereas she'd started out their Hogwarts' journey hiding away behind bed curtains avoiding people. It had been Louis who had pulled her out of her shell. He'd let her tag along and included her, even when she'd felt out of place. Yes, he did eventually tire of her and push her to make her own friends and have her own life, but that had also been a good thing. She'd needed to do that. Once she had, they met back in the middle and picked up where they left off.
She glanced at the stairs of the boys' dormitory. Tomorrow was the final task, and she wouldn't be able to live with herself if something happened to him and she'd spent the entire evening sitting downstairs. He may not want to talk to her, but she needed to talk to him. She didn't know what she would say or whether he would even bother to listen, but she had to try.
She stood up. Tommy had been in the middle of some story she'd been barely paying attention to; Jack gave her a quick look to acknowledge her exit, but said nothing as he returned to Tommy. She was happy about it; she really didn't want to have to explain herself. She also didn't want to have to tell him she had to do this on her own when he inevitably offered to come with her.
She headed up the stairs that led to the seventh-year boys' room. The door was shut entirely, which made something knot anxiously in her stomach. It was the normal kind of anxiety though, not the debilitating kind. There was something comforting about the fact that Louis' behavior still hadn't managed to make her that anxious. She had to believe that meant all was not lost.
She took a deep breath and knocked. When there was no answer, she opened it for herself.
A familiar scene greeted her. Jack's bed on the left, Louis' in the center—with the curtains drawn—and Flynn's over to the right. There was music, the awful sounds of Vraa blaring from his radio. She had hoped the Nymph Chasers concert would have shaken that out of him, but it seemed that was just a flash of a moment. The angry sounds of Vraa were now the common place.
She stood there, wondering what she should do. Any other time in history, she would have marched right up, pulled the curtains back and poked her head right in. That didn't feel right anymore. She hated that it didn't feel right anymore.
"Louis," she finally said, forcing herself to sound more confident that she felt. A part of her was genuinely nervous for what version of her brother she was going to get.
The noise didn't stop. She'd wondered if he was ignoring her or he genuinely couldn't hear her, so she called his name again more forcefully this time. When the music stopped, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
He pulled the curtain back on his bed and looked straight at her. He gave the room a quick once over—she had to assume to see if she was alone—before settling back on her. He didn't say anything; he just stared at her.
She didn't know what else to say other than, "Hi."
"What…?" he said, sounding confused. He clearly wanted to know what she was here for.
She again didn't know quite what to say, but with a heavy breath, she managed a lame sounding, "What are you doing?"
"Nic, what do you want?"
"To talk to you."
He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't have anything to say to you."
"Louis, if this is about the lying, if I could have told you, I would have. I wanted to. You refused to listen to anyone."
"This isn't about anything. I just don't want to talk to you."
"But why?"
"Because I don't want to?" He sat up in bed and looked at her. "Why do I have to want to talk to you?"
He was speaking so calmly, so emotionless, which rattled her most of all. If he was angry or upset, at least that would have meant there was some feeling in his words; some passion. Everything he was saying now was so cold and detached. She wasn't aware words could hurt when spoken so vacantly until this minute.
"Because it's me," she finally managed to say. "When have we ever not…?" Shit, she suddenly felt as if she was going to cry. "Because we're us."
"There's isn't an 'us'," he muttered. "We're adults now, we don't have to be a fucking set. I haven't wanted to be part of a set in a long time. I just want to be me."
"Who said anything about a bloody set?" she said, finding some of her anger now. "I say we're 'us' because we're 'us', Louis. And you know exactly what that fucking means, so don't pretend you don't."
He sighed in a tired way, his eyes still scanning the ceiling. She already knew what he was thinking; he wanted to escape. She was not letting him out of this that easily.
"You're not escaping this."
"Escaping what?" he said. "I've already told you I don't want to talk to you. There's nothing to escape."
"Louis, your spell damage—"
Fuck!" he said suddenly, sounding aggravated. "This is why I don't want to talk to you! Everything about you lately is talking about spell damage or telling me how much of a fuck up I am. I'm sick of it! I get it. I'm a fuck up. I huge fucking, fuck up. I skip my exams, I make a fool of myself under some spell! I don't shit rainbows and sunshine. I fucked it all up! I don't need my fucking sister reminding me every time I fucking look at her!"
That had been a lot of 'fucks'. Far more than she was used to hearing out of his—or anyone's mouth. She tried not to let it distract her and decided to cut straight through to get to the point. "Louis, that's...this isn't about being a fuck up. It's not your fault. It can be helped. If you'd only talk to someone and—"
"I don't need fucking help! I need to be left alone! I need to get the fuck away from everyone who have these expectation I didn't live up to. Fucking up the tournament, my relationships, my friendships, my life—I need people to stop acting as if they know what I need." He looked directly at her. "You don't know me as well as you think you do."
"Oh, please," she said, pulling an absolute face. "I literally had my mind cloned because of how well I know you. I was sent to France to help because of how well I know you. I lost parts of who I am because of how well I—"
"And you'll never let me hear the end of that, will you!?" he snapped. "That's another reason I can't be around you anymore. Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of how much I ruined your life. No matter how many times I say I'm sorry, or that I'd take it all back if I could, nothing will ever change the fact that it's my fucking fault."
She found that part to hit her in her feelings rather hard. Did he really think that? That he'd ruined her life? Perhaps she'd felt things had been ruined at one point, but she was trying to work on that. She was taking steps to right that.
Her tone softened. "No, Lou, stop. That's not—I don't blame you—"
"Yes, you do!" he yelled back. "You've said as much! You can try and pull this 'I don't blame you' bullshit all you want, but I know you do. I will never be allowed to say shit to you again because you'll forever remind me that I fucked up your life." He paused and laughed rather humorlessly. You just did it!"
She stared at him. She had just done it, hadn't she? She didn't even realize it when she'd said it. How had they even gotten to this point? Did he actually feel this way? That he was a fuck up who'd ruined her life? Ruined his?
"Louis, I don't think my life is ruined."
"Good for you," he said coldly.
"I'm working on coping, which is all I want for you—"
"I don't need you to want things for me. I told you, I'm fine."
"You just sat there ranting about being a fuck up."
"Maybe I'm fine with being a fuck up," he countered. "It's a nice change of pace after being so bloody perfect for so long. There are a lot less expectations."
"No one ever thought you were perfect."
He started at her, his gaze growing callous. "Bollocks. Even you—as much as you deny it—had insane expectations for me."
"Because you made everyone think that's what you wanted!" she argued. "I was supporting what I thought you wanted!"
"Well, either way, all of that is gone now," he said. "Everything I wanted, everything I thought I wanted. I lost everything."
"No, you didn't," she again argued. "You've still got your family. Your friends—"
"Like hell I do! My best friend broke my fucking nose!"
"Because you hit him first!" she said. "Had you not come at him—!"
"Fuck this," Louis muttered turning away. "I'm not touching that. You've clearly chosen your side there—"
"Yeah," she yelled back, "You know what? You're bloody well right I've chosen my side. I'm going to choose the person who isn't pushing me away and telling me he can't be around me because he wants to feel sorry for himself."
Louis rolled his eyes. "Good for you, then," he said sarcastically. "Glad you got your happy ending. You got everything else out of me, why not take my best friend, too."
She glared at him. Bloody fucking hypocrite. She wasn't even going to let him make her feel bad about that, even if he tried. "We've both lost things in that task, Louis, but you need to stop acting as if what's happened since isn't your own doing. You're pushing everyone away."
"Guess I did," he said with a small smirk. "What can I say? I'm a fuck up now."
She wanted to curse him, and she hadn't wanted to curse anyone in a long time. Right now, that all too familiar urge was coming right back to her. She had to fight it, though. He was doing it on purpose. He wanted to drive her away.
"And to act as if you lost everything," she continued, "when you're still more clever than the majority of wizards." She shook her head. "You could do whatever you wanted! Any career you'd like—"
"This isn't about a bloody career!" he barked. "And that's exactly what I'm trying to fucking say. You think you know me so well, but you have no idea. Your head goes straight to what's the next step for me to get me back up on that bloody pedestal; to get things back to normal. You want me to talk to someone so that I can go back to the safe, agreeable, always perfect person everyone wants so badly, but I'm tired of that shit. I don't want that normal anymore."
She blinked at him. She had never been so confused in her life. "What do you want?"
"I want to escape it all. I want you to leave me alone."
"You know I can't do that. You're my brother."
He made a face. "And Vic's your sister, but you're not up her arse like you are with me."
"Vic isn't you," she said, noticing how low the volume in her voice had become. "You know it's different with us. It always has been. You're my best friend."
He was looking up at the ceiling again. "Things change. I can't be around you right now. I can't keep being judged. Being lied to. I can't keep feeling guilty every time I look at you. It's not as if we're going to spend the rest of our lives attached at the hip. We've got another week here and then we're off to live our own lives. You've got to get it out of your head that we're forever a package."
She glared at him. Was she supposed to apologize for having some preconceived notions about how their relationship would play out over the years? They were best friends, and while she knew they couldn't forever be the pair they'd always been, she'd expected them to continue to have a strong relationship. Her vision had incorporated them going off to get jobs and have lives and perhaps even families of their own—but like her father and most of his siblings, they would always be close. They would connect on the regular and their kids would grow up as friends. That was what was supposed to happen.
"Just leave me alone," he said, reaching up to shut his curtain once more.
"You're not going to rest until you've destroyed every relationship you have, are you?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake…"
"I'm not taking the piss, Louis," she said, staring back at him. "You had everyone on your side and you've driven them all away. Even me, the unmovable rock that I have always been for you—that was always willing to be for you—you don't give a shit."
"You want to handle your new life your way, and I want to handle mine my way," he said. "I just want to live the way I want to for once. Without complications or judgments or expectations."
"Or anyone who cares about you," she said, taking a step backwards. "And if that's what you want, then fine. Hide away. Sulk. Be an arsehole. Because the sad part is that you're going to do all of this and then one day realize you fucked up. And I'll be the idiot still willing to forgive you because I love you and I already miss you." She could feel the tears now coming. "I'm the stupid fucking rock."
She knew then—for sure—that she wasn't dealing with the Louis she knew any longer because he would never let her stand there and cry. He'd have said something; done something to keep it from happening. But the Louis in front of her did nothing. He just stared at her.
"I hope you win the bloody tournament," she said, between heaving breaths before she turned to leave. "Because then, at least, you'd have something to show for the rest of your life going to shit."