"What the fuck is wrong with you?" yelled Sarah once she'd entered their room later on. It had been the place Dominique had immediately retreated to upon returning back to Hogwarts. She'd been there for at least twenty minutes, allowing herself to stare up at the ceiling above her bed and curse herself for being stupid.

She hadn't tried to say anything to Jack or Sarah at the Ministry. An official had turned up shortly after she'd seen them and began instructing them all to follow her toward the fireplace to Hogwarts. Neither of them seemed particularly keen to talk to her and had followed the crowd to leave; Dominique had gotten at the end of the queue behind the group of Hufflepuff girls. They'd returned back to the Great Hall and everyone had stayed for dinner—everyone but her. She'd made a beeline for the exit and headed straight up stairs. Sarah was actually the first person to speak to her since Davies.

She looked at Sarah, but didn't know what to say. She finally mumbled a quiet, "It wasn't…"

"Save it," Sarah said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You said you never wanted to talk to him again! You swore him off! He's supposed to be dead to you, but there you are, having fucking coffee and holding hands?"

"We weren't holding hands. He had...He was trying to...I told him off."

"Yeah, it really looked like it," she said.

"It wasn't what it looked like!" she yelled, noticing the door opening and in walked Natalie. Unlike Sarah, she came in quietly and said nothing. She looked to be observing in an obvious sort of manner.

"The fact that you were even talking to him tells me it's what it looked like!" Sarah shouted back. "He's a shitty person. He's the absolute worst and I genuinely thought you were finally done with him, which meant we were all finally done with him, but..." She started shaking her head a very angry sort of way. "Fuck, Nic. Fuck."

"I know I have a bad track record when it comes to him," she said. "I know in the past I haven't been able to let him go, but I swear to you when I say I told him off. I told him we were done. He was still trying, which—"

"When will you realize that you don't owe him anything? Just don't talk to him! Walk away. Don't be so bloody weak around him."

"Fuck you. I'm not weak."

"When it comes to him, you are!" she said. "And it's exhausting for the rest of us to watch." She stared at her for a long moment. "And don't even get me started on what I bet is going through Jack's head."

Even just hearing Jack's name made her anger dissipate into something more resembling guilt. She felt her face fall. She felt her posture fall. She felt her heart fall into her stomach. "I'll talk to Jack."

"If I were him, I wouldn't even bother," she said, turning away. "I'd cut my losses now because you're impossible. I don't know what is wrong with you and your brother, but neither of you know a good thing when you've got it."

Dominique let that one hang in the air; as much as she wanted to yell how that wasn't fair and for Sarah to go fuck herself, she—for once in her life—said nothing. No sharp barbs, no ruthless remarks. A part of her knew she deserved that. She really was doing everything possible to push Jack away and she didn't even mean to. She didn't want to. But she kept fucking up.

Sarah silently busied herself around the room for a few minutes more before she walked out without another word. She'd spoken her piece and even managed a jab at Louis in the process. Dominique knew she would eventually calm down, especially once she could prove once and for all that Davies was out of the picture. She was mad at her for letting him back into her life for even a moment, and she was mad at her for hurting Jack. Her anger was justified and there wasn't anything Dominique could say to the contrary. She just needed to let her cool down.

"I thought you were avoiding him?" Natalie suddenly asked. She'd been so quiet over there Dominique had forgotten she was here. "You spent the entire time we were in his department hiding from him."

At least she wasn't yelling. "I was. I was in a right state after that meeting I had to go to because they…" She stopped, not really feeling as if this was the time to get into that. "I just wasn't feeling well. He was a familiar face and he offered to buy me a cup of tea when I didn't have any money on me. It snowballed from there. But I really wasn't trying to hold his hand or get on with him. And I really did tell him we were done. We even talked about Jack, for fuck's sake."

Natalie nodded in a sympathetic way. "I believe you."

She stared at her, rather surprised to hear that.

"You really didn't want to see him earlier," she continued. "And I think you really do fancy Jack and you wouldn't try to hurt him."

"I'm not trying to."

"But," she continued, "you also did the exact thing that could hurt him the most. Remember when I told you what Flynn said? That he was afraid to even bother starting anything with you because you were probably just going to end up back with Davies?" She stared at her. "He's really cut up about it."

Her chest clenched. "Did he say—?"

"He didn't say a word to anyone at dinner."

She sighed. "Sarah's right. It's as if I have to turn good things into shit."

"Then perhaps you should stop doing that."

Simple advice. How easy it would have been to follow, but Dominique didn't even know where to start.

She would spend most of the rest of the evening up in her room alone, snacking on a package of black licorice wands she'd had for an unidentified amount of time. After a few hours, she'd gotten antsy and knew she needed to deal with this. If Jack wanted to yell at her or tell her off, it was better to get it over with since she was just avoiding the inevitable at this point. The day was already complete shit, she might as well just end it on a rubbish note as well.

Natalie had returned from her evening spent in the common room to get ready for bed, and Dominique asked if Jack was downstairs. She'd told her he'd come down for a bit, but hadn't said much; he'd worked on some homework and then disappeared back upstairs.

"I also told everyone about how hard I watched you avoid Davies and that I believed you when you said it was nothing, but Jack wasn't around to hear any of that." She sighed. "Of course, Sarah got defensive because that's what she does. Especially when she knows better than everyone else. We ended up having a bit of a row."

Dominique was actually a little moved that Natalie had stood up for her; especially against someone like Sarah, who she knew Natalie was still very much intimidated by. She'd have to remember this the next time Natalie was driving her up the wall.

"Even Flynn was being a real arse about it. It was two against one at that point." She made a face. "The two of them get so carried away they won't even listen."

That was unsurprising to hear. Sarah and Flynn—who'd known each other since they were small—may not have been the best of friends. They were actually as different people as you could get, but they'd always had this random bond built on their long history together. Sarah knew exactly the buttons to push on Flynn to get him on her side, and given that he was probably already angry since he was Jack's friend, it probably didn't take much for the two of them gang up on anyone who didn't fall in line.

"I don't even understand why Sarah is so angry," Natalie continued. "She seems angrier than Jack."

"She hates Davies and hates me when I'm with him," Dominique mumbled, having already analyzed all of this tonight during her long hours of silence.

While it was entirely true Sarah hated Davies, it had actually been the comment she made about her and Louis not knowing a good thing when they had it that had been the most telling. It made Dominique realize that Sarah was projecting her anger—anger she was clearly still carrying around—at Louis onto her. She'd felt betrayed by him; she now felt Dominique had betrayed Jack. That was all it took to trigger her into a bit of a meltdown. In her mind, she had to assume they were essentially the same person now.

"Well, I really don't care for her bringing Flynn into it." Natalie said, rolling her eyes as if she started to realize some things. "The way he was just acting was eye opening."

Great. Not that she cared one way or another about their relationship, but Dominique didn't need this stupid argument that she was at the center of being the reason they split up. She hadn't thought about it until that moment, but there was a reason Natalie was here getting ready for bed instead of over in the boys' room with Flynn like most nights. At the rate they were going, everyone in Gryffindor wouldn't be speaking to each other by morning.

Dominique stood up. "They shouldn't be taking their anger at me out on you."

"Where are you going?"

"To go and remind them it's me they're angry with," she said as she walked to the door and exited into the corridor.

She made her way down the stairs to find Sarah, Flynn, and Eleanor sitting on the central sofa. She felt oddly confident walking over toward them, even if she knew that nothing but their wrath at her actions was coming. She didn't care. Jack was the only person right now who she was afraid to see.

Eleanor noticed her first and immediately looked nervous at her approaching. Sarah turned to see what she was looking at, and her face fell into something resembling annoyance when they made eye contact.

"Look who it is," she said sourly.

"I'm not Louis, Sarah. Stop acting as if I am."

She stared back at her as if that were obvious. "What are you on about?"

She ignored her and instead addressed Flynn. "Is Jack upstairs?"

"He is," he muttered, not looking up from the work he was doing. "But I can't see him wanting to talk to you."

"He can tell me that," she said as she took a step forward before hovering in place for a moment. She turned to look back at Flynn. "And perhaps you should concern yourself more with your own relationship going to shit instead of worrying about mine."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not the only one who has someone upstairs who doesn't want to speak to them right now," she said, walking past them toward the boys' dormitory.

It wasn't until she was halfway up the stairs that she realized she really hadn't mentally prepared for what she was about to do. What was she going to say to Jack? What could she say to him?

She got to the landing that opened up to the boys' rooms. The door to his wasn't closed entirely, but it wasn't open enough to be able to see anything going on inside. She took a huge breath as she walked toward it. Tell him the truth. That's all she could do. Tell him the truth. Don't be overly defensive. She knew she had a tendency to be overly defensive, so she needed to keep that in check.

She walked forward and knocked three times and said, "Hello?" though there was no answer. She pushed the door forward and let it swing open all the way. Jack's bed, which was furthest left, was the last thing to come into view as she followed the motion of the door. There was no real reveal or huge surprise; no angry looks or curses immediately cast in her direction. All that she was met with was Jack, sitting up in the center of his bed with a book propped open, staring rather blankly at her.

She immediately felt anxious. "Can we talk?"

He shrugged, looking rather disinterested.

She walked over to Louis' empty bed and sat on it. She felt rather rigid and stiff all the sudden; she was now acutely aware of her hands and didn't know where to put them, so she folded them in her lap. Jack had taken his book and shut it before tossing it toward the foot of his bed. He turned to face, but said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for her to start this.

"I don't even know what to say, but it wasn't what it looked like."

"Never is."

She looked at him, immediately feeling defensive and ready to pounce. She reeled it in and took a calming breath. "I told him we were done."

"Didn't you already do that? How many times are you going to tell him that?"

"As many times as it takes until he gets the bloody message," she said. "He was trying to get me to...I don't know. Whatever it was that he wanted, but I told him I was done."

He sighed.

"It's not my fault he keeps trying. He's the one showing up at my house and writing me letters. Not the other way around. You can ask Natalie, I spent the entire day actively avoiding him."

"Then why…?" He trailed off. He didn't even seem to want to finish what he was saying.

"Why was I sitting with him?" Dominique asked with a nod, "I know. I wish I had a better explanation other that he caught me at a really weak moment after that awful meeting I had—which, that's an entirely other mad story altogether—but," she stopped and started to wring her hands, "I ran into him when I needed to see someone—anyone I knew, and...it was a weak moment."

"I feel like whenever he's around, you're having weak moments."

"No, it wasn't that kind of a weak moment," she said quickly. "The weak part had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what happened in that meeting. He was just an unfortunate side effect."

Jack was staring at her as if she'd gone mad. Even she had to admit that she was making little sense and that none of this was helping her case.

"He knew about you. We talked about you."

He laughed a little humorlessly. "What's to talk about? We aren't together. You've been clear about that."

That was a cheap shot.

"The thing is...," he continued, though he looked flustered as he stammered. "Ok, the thing is, I can't..." He looked away. He was struggling to get this out. "I'm not going to compete with that arsehole for your attention."

"There is no competition," she said immediately. "I want him gone as much as you do."

"But yet he's always there!" he said. "He finds a way. And then you say you want nothing to do with him, but the first chance you get, you're sitting there with him on some coffee date."

"It wasn't what it looked like!"

"That's exactly what it looked like! You were holding his hand!"

"He was holding mine!"

They stared at each other. She wondered if there was anything she could say or do to convince him otherwise; whether this was all one big waste of time. He was insecure about Davies and she was insecure about commitment. Maybe all of these bumps in the road was the universe telling her this wasn't meant to be. Maybe they'd fucked up even trying.

"If you're not going to believe me," she said, "then there's nothing else I can say."

"I want to believe you," he said. "But you say one thing and do another. At what point am I the idiot for believing you?"

She stood off of Louis' bed, though kept her gaze on the floor. "If that's how you see it, fine. I'm sorry. For everything." She began walking toward the door before she stopped and turned back around on him. "But I need you to know it was never a competition."

He didn't say anything as she left the room. She walked down the stairs, across the common room—avoiding all eye contact with Sarah or Flynn—and walked straight up the stairs to her own room. She pushed the door open to find it empty, which seemed to be the only thing that day that seemed to be going her way. She immediately climbed into bed, drew the curtains, and let herself fall face first into her pillow. After a few seconds, she couldn't hold it any longer and she let the tears come. This had been exactly what she'd been trying to avoid all along—the feeling of her heart being ripped into hundreds of pieces. Joke was on her since it managed to still find a way.

She didn't know how long she cried, but it was long enough to eventually have put her to sleep. She woke the following morning not remembering when she'd passed out, but she felt someone else's presence beside her in bed. Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly turned over to find her curtains had been pulled back to allow in light. Sarah was sitting beside her.

"Go away," she groaned, though that had been her gut reaction and had nothing to do with the fact that they were currently in a fight. She actually had forgotten about that—and everything else—for a few brief moments before her mind began waking itself up.

"We need to talk," she said, sounding far more awake than she should have for whatever time it was in the morning.

"I don't want to talk." She rolled back onto her stomach; the thoughts of Jack, Davies, the creepy meeting, and her awful day began hitting her one after another after another. "Go away."

"I'm apologizing," she said. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry yesterday. I was up all night thinking about it, and while I think what you did was fucked up, it wasn't my place to get so carried away." She paused for a long moment. "I'm supposed to be your friend and I didn't even bother to listen to your side of the story."

"No shit," she said into her pillow.

"But when you said that stuff about Louis, well, you may have been onto something. I've obviously got some things I'm still processing and I suppose I put myself in Jack's shoes when I saw you with someone else." She looked over at her. "I know you're not Louis. I shouldn't have flown off the handle."

"Whatever. Fine. Let me go back to sleep," she said, her face still buried in her pillow. This was ever so typical of her and Sarah's friendship; except usually, it was her apologizing to Sarah for being a hothead, not the other way around. It was sort of nice to be on this end. Either way, just as she'd predicted yesterday, Sarah would cool down and they'd be fine again. She knew her entirely too well.

Sarah let herself slide down so that she was resting her head on Dominique's other pillow. When Dominique picked up her head to look at her, she made a face. "I meant back to sleep without you, weirdo."

Sarah laughed, though she slowly let it fade as she looked at Dominique's face. "Your eyes are puffy." She frowned. "You were crying."

She turned herself over so she was facing away from her.

"What happened when you talked to Jack?"

"Hates me," she mumbled. "Yelled less than you did, but clearly hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

She didn't respond. She felt herself wide awake now, despite the fact that she was still hoping Sarah would think she'd gone back to sleep and leave her alone. They were both silent until Sarah finally spoke again.

"When you're up for it, I'd like to try again at hearing your side of the story. No jumping to conclusions."

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She didn't immediately say anything. In fact, she let Sarah sit there for a good five minutes before she finally started telling her the details—slowly at first, but picking up steam as she went. How strange that meeting had been and how it had completely unsettled her, how she'd run into Davies directly afterward, how she'd actually told him off despite all evidence to the contrary, how Jack basically couldn't do this anymore. When all was said and done, Sarah—who'd said nothing the entire time—hummed.

Dominique looked over at her. A hum? That was all she got?

"I wonder what they wanted from you?" she finally said.

She pulled herself up in bed. "Yeah, well it fucked me up. I plan on going down and finding McGonagall or Longbottom or whoever will listen and telling them they need to get to the bottom of things since they're accomplices for allowing it to happen."

"I think you should," Sarah said, sitting up as well. "I don't know how far it'll get you, but you're owed an explanation. It's strange."

"Everything about my life lately is strange. I'm starting to think I'm cursed."

"You're not cursed," Sarah said. "At least, I don't think so. Who knows what they did to you, but if we're talking about the stuff with Jack, that's the sort of drama plenty of people go through."

Dominique rubbed her eyes, feeling immediately how swollen they felt. "I've managed to avoid this shit for years while you all were running around like fools getting your hearts broken and crying over the dumbest things, and now it's as if the world feels I need to play catch up. It's throwing everything at me."

"Please," Sarah muttered. "Wait until you've put entire years of your life into someone and they burn you. Then we can talk." She sat up on her knees and looked directly at Dominique. "You can fix things with Jack."

"Did you miss the part where he hates me?"

"No, he doesn't," she said. "I've seen the way he looks at you. You should have seen the look on his face in Charms the other day when I caught him watching you working."

"Ok, but that was the other day when he didn't hate me."

"He's protecting himself," Sarah said. "You have to realize you and him approach relationships differently. If you two are going to work, you both have to give. He's toned it down and you have to tone it up. Jack's a romantic. He always has been. Think of the poems and the flowers and everything else he'd do for Whit when they were together. You are the opposite of that. Poems and romance make you want to scream."

Dominique said nothing. Yes, the poems were not her thing and they never would be, but she could stomach romance in small, appropriate amounts. She just wasn't sure what that even entailed.

"You two mess around and that seems to be the only common ground you agree on. I'm starting to think the only way you know how to show your feelings is through sex."

That one hit a little too close to home.

"Jack wants nothing more than for you to want him," Sarah began, though when Dominique finally attempted to speak, Sarah cut her off and added, "And not just naked."

"It's not just naked," she snapped. "That's not the only reason."

"Ok," Sarah said. "What else?"

"What else—what?"

"What else do you fancy about him?"

She shrugged. "Because I do."

"Why? Give me reasons. If I'm going to help you, I need to hear real reasons. I need to know this is about more than him looking good with his shirt off and Quidditch."

"So, wait, Quidditch isn't allowed to be a reason?"

Sarah sighed. "It can be a reason. Him having nice arms can be a reason. I just sincerely hope there's more to it. Something a bit deeper."

Dominique looked down at the duvet on her bed. A bit deeper. She had reasons—so many reasons—but she'd never actually stopped to sort them out, let alone list them. And saying them outloud seemed embarrassing. Her cheeks started to feel warm, but the way Sarah was looking at her told her that she wasn't going to be able to joke her way out of this.

"He's funny," she said quietly as she began pulling at her pillow. "But not in a way that's showy, which I appreciate. I like that he's not showy in general, too many guys are . He's probably one of the nicest people I know. Even when I've been hard to deal with—which I know I can be—"

Sarah made a funny noise.

"—he knows how to handle it without being an arsehole. He's always been a really good friend. He's a good listener. He's…" She looked at Sarah, who was looking at her expectantly, urging her to continue. "He's always had my back, mostly in Quidditch, but in other stuff, too." She shrugged. "I don't know, I feel as if everything I've said, you could say to you, too. It doesn't explain why I fancy him, I just do. I like the way I feel when he's around. No one else makes me feel like that."

Sarah grinned a little. "Alright then. Let's fix this. Valentine's Day is in a few days, and let's hope to put things right by then. I can talk to him and help smooth things over, but talk is useless unless you're willing to make the effort."

"But I really didn't do anything wrong," Dominique argued. "Yes, I get the Davies thing doesn't look great, but all I did was talk to him. I didn't do anything. I was telling him we're done. I sort of feel as if Jack's overreacting."

"He's not," Sarah said immediately. "Just accept that, in this instance, you fucked up. You know I'd be in your corner if I thought I should be, but I'm with Jack on this. While I believe you, I wouldn't if I were in his shoes. You've got a terrible history with Davies."

"How am I supposed to make a bloody effort if he doesn't believe me?"

"For starters, you need to show him how you feel. That's what he wants. You need to go a little out of your comfort zone. You need to do what you did on the Witch's Wordplay board and spell it out. Because you made the effort then, look what happened? It worked. You even got an orgasm out of it."

She laughed a little, which seemed to be Sarah's intention.

"He'll respond to effort. What he won't respond to is nothing—which is what I know you're thinking of doing since you think he hates you and things are over. He's not going to chase you because he has to be thinking that he's put himself out there and yet you're still running off to chat up your ex."

"I wasn't—!"

"It's what he thinks. Change his mind."

Change his mind. That was easier said than done. Sarah had gone to speak to Jack, though nothing new had really come from the conversation that he hadn't already told Dominique. He thought she was still hung up on Davies and he wasn't going to deal with it. Sarah had asked him if he could still be friends, to which Jack said that, while being around her was hard because he still had feelings for her, he was aware they couldn't avoid each other.

This was especially true with Quidditch, so it would be easier to get along than not. It was the reason he never fought much when Sarah dragged him over to their table or insisted he sit with them in class. Dominique could see it all over his face that he'd accepted that being cordial was easier than not. When they were sitting beside each other, she could practically feel the tension—awkward, sexual, and frustrated—between them. It was palpable.

"The two most important things to take from my conversation with him," Sarah told Dominique, "is that he still has feelings for you and that he's willing to be around you and keep things cool. Feelings plus time spent together can open up a lot of opportunities."

"Am I supposed to do something?" Dominique asked.

"Yes. We've established that you have to do something. Bloody hell, that's literally the only thing you have to do."

"I get that, but what does that even mean? Do I just act normal? Do I flirt? I'm a shitty flirt. I shouldn't do that." She made a groan of a noise. "This is stupid."

"For now, just be present," Sarah said. "Be friendly. Be normal. The more normal things are, the more things feel familiar, and the easier it is to slip back into what made you fall for each other in the first place."

Be normal. That was easy for her to say. Normal had never been something Dominique was very good at, even if Sarah had obviously meant her version of normal. She would always end up too far into her head; overthinking everything and second guessing all of her thoughts and actions.

She took that advice to Quidditch practice with her on the eve of Valentine's Day with the hopes of somehow conveying normalcy—while feeling anything but. If there was anywhere she could pass it off, the pitch was that place. When in doubt, her love and knowledge of Quidditch could always supersede her problems. Their match against Ravenclaw was that weekend, which meant stress levels were already higher than normal. She already missed the days when big matches were her biggest concern.

Slytherin and Hufflepuff had squared off in a tight match the previous weekend, and no one was quite sure whether Hufflepuff had improved or Slytherin was simply getting worse without Zara. The match was tight, though in the end, Slytherin had pulled out the win—giving them a two and two record. Hufflepuff was zero and four. Gryffindor was two and one. Ravenclaw was undefeated. If Ravenclaw won this weekend, it was practically a guaranteed undefeated season. If Giggleswick went down in the school records as a captain of an undefeated team, Dominique would never forgive herself.

She knew that this match was absolutely make or break. They had to win. They absolutely had to. They couldn't leave anything up to chance and she needed to focus on that rather than her boy drama—even if that boy was currently standing directly in front of her.

"So, Kenley's sick," Jack said to the team, addressing them in a very straight forward fashion. "She won't be here today."

"Sick, how?" Eatins asked, immediately looking over at Tommy. Dominique looked at him as well. He and Kenley were...friends? More than friends? Fuck buddies? She couldn't keep track, but he'd know better than all of them what her status was.

"Flu or something," Tommy said. "It's bad enough that Pomfrey pumped her full of potions and told her to spend the night in the hospital wing."

"Is she going to be better by Sunday?" asked James.

Tommy shrugged. "Hope so."

"She's got days to work it out of her system," Jack said. "That being said, if it's one of those weird magical flus that she can't beat right away, we'll need to start thinking about bringing in alternates."

"Do we even have an alternate Keeper?" Alice asked.

"We do not," said Dominique as she rested her head against her broomstick. They had alternates who came to practice occasionally to keep up with plays and workouts, but they were almost exclusively for the Chasers and weren't fit for the other positions. Some teams had another Keeper in the wings if they were lucky, but Gryffindor wasn't one of them. As far as Dominique was concerned, they barely had a starting Keeper.

Jack's plan for positions other than Chaser always had more to do with sliding people around. James was their backup Seeker in the event Dominique couldn't play, but that was the only official switch they had. When it came to Beaters and a Keeper, it was up to Jack to make a match time decision.

"Alice, what do you think about giving the rings a go?" Jack asked her.

Alice made a face that was somewhat terrified. She was small and lithe—fast as hell on a broom because she weighed next to nothing—but she was essentially the opposite of everything a Keeper should be. Kenley wasn't an ideal build either, but she was stronger and more muscular. Alice looked as if one misplaced Quaffle would knock her straight off her broom. She was a fair Chaser because she had a talent for avoiding Bludgers, but she wasn't allowed to avoid things as a Keeper, so that skill was moot.

"Just so I follow," Dominique began, glancing at Jack. "you're suggesting that we put the youngest, smallest, skinniest person on the rings?"

Jack stared at her. This was normal as far as she was concerned. That's what Sarah told her to do. She'd always challenged his questionable decisions if she thought they weren't in the team's best interest. She'd even been rather cool about it. There wasn't any harshness in her tone, but there was clearly a coldness between them. Despite being normal, her questioning him felt stranger than it would have a month earlier.

"My thought," Jack explained, "is that we need Potter and Eatins at Chaser because they put up points quickest, and with a team like Ravenclaw we need to attack fast. Alice is quick on rebounds and assists, but I can plug in one of the alternates and have them specifically do rebounds all match."

"But Ravenclaw attacks fast, too," she said, "and—no offence to Alice—but Jack, you're essentially giving them open rings with her there."

"It's not ideal. I understand that," he muttered. "But I wanted to try her there and see if—"

"What about Tommy?"

"What about me?" Tommy asked, picking his head up at the sound of his name.

She gestured to his six foot, broad shouldered frame. "He's far better equipped, size wise. He has natural defender instincts as a Beater."

"Who's going to be Beating, then?" Tommy asked. "One of the alternates? They can't fly with a bat in their hands. Everyone knows Beating is the hardest position to just pick up."

That was true. That bat did do a number on people who'd never held one before. Dominique took a deep breath and looked at Jack. "I know you don't want to lose your partner because it makes your job that much harder, but if anyone can pick up the slack for Tommy, it's you. And we'd at least have a better chance at protecting the rings with him there."

"Are you taking the piss?" Tommy asked, looking over at Jack. "You're not listening to this, are you?"

Jack hadn't said anything and was instead looking up at the rings. He turned back to Tommy, who was staring at him as if silently begging him not to say the words.

"If you plug an alternate in," Tommy protested, "you're essentially Beating all by yourself against Ravenclaw. Not Hufflepuff. Not even Slytherin. Ravenclaw. That's a death wish."

"I spent my entire fifth-year Beating by myself," Jack said with a small smirk. "You forget how terrible you were when you started."

"Not the time for jokes, mate," he said. "Ravenclaw is far better now than they were back then."

Jack threw Dominique a look before looking at the ground. "We may honestly be worrying about nothing and Kenley will be back, but…" He sighed. "It doesn't hurt to take some time out later and have Tommy try to stop some Quaffles."

Tommy yelled, "Fuck," loudly. He wasn't happy about that at all.

Tommy and Alice ended up taking turns at the rings to see what they could do. Alice, to her credit, did manage to stop exactly six of twenty Quaffles. She also, however, screamed every time a Quaffle came in fast and while she always apologized, she claimed she couldn't help it.

Tommy stopped twelve. He cursed and bitched the entire time, and Dominique even sensed he wasn't working as hard as he could have been out of spite. Still, if that were true, she realized that if he actually tried, he was probably a decent Keeper.

Jack flew by after Tommy finished his last block, though he doubled back and stopped beside Dominique to watch. He was quiet for a long while before muttering, "I really need Kenley to feel better because I don't want to have to play him at Keeper." He looked over at her. "I'm going to have to defend the entire pitch on my own."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she said. "And like I said earlier, if anyone can do it, it's you." She looked at him. "Anyone else, I'd say it was a stupid move and I'd have never suggested it, but you're that good."

Jack didn't say anything. How was that for normal? Legitimate Quidditch advice and she'd even managed a compliment. And even better, they were entirely true and not meant just to get back in his good graces. She could have sworn she saw the faintest traces of a smile that most people wouldn't have even picked up, but she'd become an expert on his facial expressions lately.

"But," she continued. "Let's just hope Kenley gets better."

Jack made a noise of agreement and pulled away after that. Clearly, they were still at a point where their communication was limited to just a few sentences here and there. Every conversation now had a purpose and once that was over, they moved on. That was fine. Baby steps. At least they were talking.

They all landed after that, including a very annoyed looking Tommy. James was apparently looking to either poke the bear or was just awful at reading the room, because he randomly said to Tommy, "You're actually not bad. Have you ever considered playing Keeper?"

"Fuck no, I haven't," he said in a huff. "I don't even know how to fly without my bat."

"To be fair, you barely know how to fly with it either," Dominique offered.

"And you can fuck off most of all because this was your idea," Tommy said as they all began cleaning up and collecting their equipment. "I'm personally going down to the kitchens tonight to get soup for Kenley and then I'll nurse her back to health, so she can get her arse out here on Sunday. I'm not Keeping."

"Yeah, sure, that's the reason," said Eatins as the two of them gathered their brooms. "It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you've got it bad."

Tommy fake laughed before letting his face go completely cold. "Shut up."

"Stop acting as if you don't," Eatins muttered. "Did you do anything for her for Valentine's Day tomorrow?"

"Bought flowers like everyone else," Tommy mumbled, picking up his bat and swinging it around back and forth. "Not that it matters because I'm fairly certain five other blokes did as well."

"Yeah, but she seems to fancy you. Everyone says so."

Tommy laughed. "That's the thing with her, she seems to fancy everyone she talks to. That's her personality. She's hard to read."

"Yeah, but you're at the top of her list. You have to be."

"Therein lies the problem. The fact that there's a list in the first place. Why does there have to be a list? Why can't it just be a single name?"

Dominique stared at the two of them, having listened to their entire conversation while she cleaned up. That last comment had struck a chord with her. She glanced over at Jack, who was well within earshot while helping Alice and James put Quaffles away.

"How do you know it's not a single name?" she asked bluntly, her attention on Tommy. "Have you seen an actual list?"

He glanced over at her, surprised to hear her commenting. "No. There's obviously not an actual list. But there are people who fancy her and they're always trying to win her over. It's not hard to see that if she wanted to make one, she could."

"But she hasn't," Dominique said, feeling her voice raise. "You're the one making lists in your mind, not her. If she fancies you, she fancies you. Who cares how many other boys are in the picture? Maybe she doesn't see them like that? Maybe she doesn't care? Maybe she wants to get rid of them, but she can't control them and what they do? If you're at the top of the list, then you're what she wants."

Tommy and Eatins were staring at her as if she'd gone a bit beyond what they'd been discussing. Her raised voice had even gotten the attention of Alice, James, and Jack, all of whom were all looking over at her.

She picked up her broom up off the ground. "Why can't knowing she fancies you be enough?"

With that, she walked off toward the changing room, not waiting around for any of the follow up. Everyone probably thought she was mental—and they also probably wondered why she suddenly had so much insight into Tommy and Kenley's personal relationship—but she didn't care. She only cared what Jack thought; even if she had forced herself to not look at him when she'd walked by.

A random outburst. She couldn't get any more normal than that. It probably had been a bit much since she was supposed to be working her way back into Jack's good graces; not vaguely yelling at him in front of the rest of the Quidditch team. Sarah probably wouldn't approve, but she couldn't say she hadn't tried to do something. That was something.