Dominique had always found Valentine's Day to be nothing more than another day on the calendar at best and a stupid innconvince at worst. While everyone else was gearing up for flowers and presents and dates in Hogsmeade that weekend, she always saw it as nothing more than a typical mid-February day. Breakfast, classes, dinner, Quidditch practice, homework, bed.
Watching everyone walk around all moon-eyed and hopeful—or bitter and angry—got old fast. There was the occasional argument or breakup in the common room that would provide a bit of a show; sometimes there was even crying. Mostly though, it was everyone pretending to be far more in love than they actually were; acting as if a couple of roses on one day out of the year meant eternal love was inevitable. It was obnoxious.
The roses were a school staple. Professor Longbottom grew them in the greenhouse in order to sell to students in order to raise money for St. Mungo's, specifically for the benefit of the Magical Maladies and Injuries ward. It was his dedicated cause and one he always pushed for very hard every year. The Valentine's roses were easily his biggest earner of the year, and he would start preparing everyone in January to get ready to purchase some for the holiday.
Dominique never wanted to send any, but she always felt compelled to buy a couple. She usually kept them next to her bed, and without fail every year, Natalie would always ask if they were from someone.
They were rarely from someone—with the exception of Louis, who always gave her a single flower every year. She wasn't about to advertise that her brother was the only one who ever bought her a flower. As a gesture from him, it came off as sweet to look out for his sister. On her end, it seemed rather sad.
Last year, there had been a bit of a shake up; she'd gotten an additional flower to add to her usual collection. There were the two she bought, the one Louis gave her, and then one from Davies. He'd only done it due to social pressure—after all, that's what boys do around here—though he'd claimed he really wanted to. He even claimed he would have gotten her more, but she'd made an offhand comment about Valentine's being stupid so he hadn't wanted to over do it and annoy her. She wasn't sure if that was the truth or that he was downplaying the fact that their relationship wasn't significant.
This year, she hadn't remembered to buy any. Now that she wasn't taking Herbology, she didn't have Longbottom's daily reminders and she'd honestly forgotten to get around to it. On top of that, with Louis gone, that meant she was most likely going to be flower-less for the first time ever.
She'd been up early that morning and had gone down to breakfast on her own while her peers were in the showers and taking extra time to get ready for the special day. Natalie had woken practically buzzing, clearly full of excited energy to see what Flynn had planned since—in order to make up for their argument after the Ministry trip—he'd claimed to be doing something nice. She was busy wanting to look cute and prepared for the mania that was Valentine's, as did ninety percent of the other girls in Gryffindor Tower who had flooded the bathrooms that morning. Dominique had barely gotten in to brush her teeth; every inch of mirror space had been occupied.
Sarah, on the other hand, didn't want to get out of bed. It wasn't a sad state as much as it was a "fuck this day" sort of mentality. She had still been lying there when Dominique had left to go down for breakfast; had it not been for classes, she probably would have hidden up in the room to avoid the insanity of it all.
The Great Hall was decorated as it always was for the holiday, with small cupids flying overhead and pink and red streamers draping the room in an explosion of color. The cupids looked sleepy and bored when Dominique walked in, which was surprising since she really wasn't that much earlier than usual. In twenty minutes time, this place would soon be filled with students clamoring for breakfast and affection. The cupids had better brace themselves.
Near the head table, another—much smaller table—had been set up, and it was absolutely covered with flowers. Bouquets upon bouquets, with piles more stacked behind it; it was practically a mountain of red roses. The members of the Herbology club all looked hurried and a bit stressed as they tried to organize and ready themselves for the queue of people—mostly boys, she'd noticed—that were already turning up to collect what they'd paid for.
She shook her head and went straight to Gryffindor's table; immediately helping herself to pink colored eggs. Someone thought this was a cute idea, but she thought they looked rather underdone as she slopped them onto her plate. Maybe she'd just have toast.
All things considered, she was in a fairly decent mood considering she had no reason to be. The only person she cared about this Valentine's Day was barely speaking to her, but she was honestly no worse off than any other year. She really just had to grit her teeth and get through it as she always did.
"Shit, the queue is already long," came Flynn's voice as he approached where she was sitting. His head was still turned in the direction of the flower table and the twenty plus people already queued up in front of it.
"It's because they haven't opened yet." As the words left her mouth, it was as if someone had heard her. Right then, the president of the Herbology Club greeted the first boy standing there to get things started. "Look, see. It'll start moving now."
Flynn reached over and grabbed a piece of toast. He began gnawing on it as he watched the queue. "I guess I wasn't the only one who thought to get down here early."
"Fairly certain the whole school had that idea."
"You buy any flowers?"
She shook her head.
"I got Natalie some," he said, his attention still on the queue. "You think six is enough? Should I have done more?"
With Natalie, bigger was always better. Even she knew that. She liked to keep up with the crowd, so if most girls were getting a dozen, then that's what she wanted. This was especially true if he was trying to smooth things over from the other day.
"I'd have done a dozen."
"Fuck. You think so?"
"But what do I know? I'm sure she'll like whatever you get her," she said, backtracking her comment as a member of the Herbology Club was now picking up a huge bouquet of flowers—probably around two dozen—and walking it to take it somewhere. It was quite impressive and really showed off how truly beautiful Longbottom's roses were. It caught the attention of most of the Great Hall.
"Someone went all out," Flynn mumbled, also watching as the kid with the flowers started walking down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. It felt like everyone was watching this now to see where he was carrying them to. You had to make an extra donation to get your flowers delivered—though Dominique had to assume that whomever spent their money on that display probably didn't mind the extra fee.
The kid—a glasses wearing Hufflepuff—stopped directly next to Flynn and her. They both turned to stare at him, though Flynn quickly looked at Dominique.
"Hello," said the Hufflepuff. "You're Dominique Weasley, right?"
She stared at him, the piece of toast she'd put to her mouth still between her teeth.
He gestured to set the bouquet down on the table, but she didn't move. It was Flynn who went and cleared the glasses and plates that were currently in the way to make room. When the kid set them down and stepped back, he said. "These are for you."
She let the toast dangle in her mouth and looked rather horrified at the bouquet—which up close was even more lovely. "You cannot be serious."
The kid shrugged. "Dominique Weasley. That's who I was told to take it to." He didn't say anything else, but turned back toward the flower table to return to the rest of the Herbology Club.
"Merlin's tit, this had to have cost a fortune," Flynn muttered, standing up to look at it. "Here. There's a card." He plucked it out and handed it to her, which she took with the toast still in her mouth. She could still feel the eyes of people watching, though most seemed to have gone back to what they were doing.
She set the toast back down on the table and opened the card, sliding it out of the envelope and seeing a handwriting that she'd grown all too familiar with in the last few months. Her face suddenly fell.
Should have done this much last year when I had the chance. Never too late to start over—Henry
"Davies," Flynn said, having read over her shoulder like a nosy prat.
She yanked that card out of his line of sight and immediately tore it in half, glancing back up at the flowers. In her gut, she'd suspected it had been him, but she'd hoped she'd been wrong. She'd genuinely hoped he'd finally gotten the message and fucked right off. Suddenly, she didn't find the roses nearly as attractive.
"These are really nice," Flynn said, still examining them.
"I don't want them," she said, tossing the card away and out of sight before returning to her toast.
"Are you mental? They're gorgeous. And they had to cost a fortune."
"You take them, then," she said in between bites. "I don't want them."
He was staring at her as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "Wait, are you serious?"
"Take them or they're going in the bin," she said point-blank, turning to face him. "Go ahead. Blow Natalie's mind. Maybe she'll blow you in return. Happy Valentine's Day."
"Nicki, I…" He looked up at them, not quite sure what to say to that. At the same time, she chanced a glance toward the entrance once she started to hear the sounds of people gathering. It seemed the bulk of the rest of the school was arriving and taking in the decorations; all getting ready to give or receive their Valentine's gifts. Natalie had appeared with Eleanor and some of their Ravenclaw friends. They were excitedly pointing at the exact same decorations that had been put up since their first-year, but still acting as if they were brand new.
She looked back at Flynn. "She's coming, so you better make a choice."
"I...I guess, yeah. Alright," Flynn said quickly. "If you really don't care. I'd hate to see them go to waste."
"Good man," she said as Natalie and her friends drew closer. She could already hear a chorus of "Ooohs" and "Look at those!" as they approached. It was Eleanor who spoke first, glancing between Flynn and Dominique. "Who got those? They're beautiful!"
Dominique took an overly large bite of toast the moment Flynn cast her a quick look. He seemed to be checking one last time if this was okay. When she said nothing, he stood up and smiled at Natalie. "They're for you."
The "awws" and "squees" were practically deafening; Dominique felt like crawling under the table to get away from them. She didn't even have to turn to look to know that Natalie had flung herself on top of him and was either hugging or kissing him all within a foot of where she was still attempting to finish her breakfast.
She picked up her juice glass and slid roughly three feet down the length of the table to get away from the spectacle. Natalie and her friends were all taking turns to look or smell the roses—each commending Flynn on a job well done. In the commotion, Dominique barely noticed Sarah and Jack approach from the other side of the table, both of their eyes wide and surprised by the larger than life bouquet that stood there.
Sarah made eye contact with Dominique, her expression slightly horrified. "What is that?" she whispered.
"Flynn got Natalie this really large bouquet of flowers," Dominique said with a fake smile. "And she's really happy about it."
"Clearly," Sarah said, noticing that Professor Flitwick was now making his way down the aisle to most likely tell the snogging pair to break it up.
"Flynn got that?" Jack asked, pointing at him. "That Flynn?"
"That Flynn."
"Then why was he asking me to borrow money to buy flowers if he could afford that?" he mumbled, watching as Flitwick was now lecturing Natalie and Flynn about inappropriate behavior in the Great Hall. "Unless he went and asked the whole bloody school for money."
Dominique shrugged, watching as Natalie picked up her flowers and began carrying them out with Flynn trailing behind her. There were far too many to carry around the school all day to show off as most girls did, but it didn't really matter. Most of the school had just witnessed that display, and anyone who had been there earlier wouldn't have been able to tell that it wasn't Flynn who'd been given them in the first place. Only her, Flynn, and the Herbology Club knew the truth—and she was happy to let it stay that way.
"Ug, this day," Sarah said, picking up a piece of bacon and breaking it in half. A low flying cupid was hovering not too far away and she flicked a smaller piece at it. She missed, but the cupid still wasn't too pleased. "I want to crawl back into bed. Fuck Valentine's Day."
"As, do you need me to buy you some flowers?" Jack joked. "I will if it will shut you—I mean, cheer you up." He managed a cheeky smile—one Dominique hadn't seen in several days—which in turn made Sarah glare at him.
"I don't need your pity," she said, right as morning mail arrived and caught everyone's attention. The owl flock always seemed far heavier today, as presents and cards accounted for more than the usual haul, but Dominique found herself rather startled as owls began dropping cards and packages down in front of her specifically.
Goblets of juice fell over; eggs splattered as a box fell into the plate directly in front of them; other students in the vicinity were quickly grabbing at their breakfasts and cups, lifting them up to avoid getting hit. This went on for a solid minute; by the time the owls had flown off, there were at least fifteen letters and packages now scattered in front of her.
"Your fan club is dedicated," Sarah muttered, lowering her arms down from where she'd been protecting her head. From beside her, Jack had his plate and cup straight up in the air.
"What is all of this…?" Dominique asked, picking one of the packages out of the eggs. She'd never ever considered receiving gifts from the randoms who sent her letters, but now that she had, she felt she should have been more prepared.
Sarah had already helped herself to another package and was tearing the paper off. Her eyes lit up once she saw what was inside. "Oh, this is good chocolate!" She pulled out a small card and read the name on it. "Thanks, Arnie from Bristol. You've got good taste." She held them up to show Dominique. "I'm keeping these as a fee for sorting through all your mail the last few months."
"Keep it all," she said, dropping the soggy egg package back on the table with a thud. "I don't want any of it—"
"Dominique," came a voice that caused her to turn around quickly. She was met by the same glasses wearing Hufflepuff boy from before. He was holding another dozen roses. "These are for you."
She stared at him for an inordinate amount of time. "Are you taking the piss? Those cannot possibly be for me."
"Uh, well, yes they are. And there's another one about the same size," he said, not looking entirely thrilled to have to keep doing this. "These are all requests we got in the post. We just put them all together into a larger bouquet."
"These are from random people!?"
He nodded. "You're very popular this year. Also—" He suddenly handed her a stack of cards, at least ten. "We went ahead and wrote the number of roses each person sent on their corresponding card. When you read them, you'll know."
She continued to stare at him, but didn't budge. He held the flowers out to her and she still didn't move. He looked around awkwardly. "Please just take them."
She turned around and looked back at Jack and Sarah, the latter of whom seemed amused as she popped chocolate into her mouth. Jack's face was unreadable.
"Please," said Glasses.
"I don't want them."
Glasses seemed confused, still impatiently holding them out for her. "Ok, but neither do I."
"This isn't happening," she said once she finally—begrudgingly—took them off his hands. She set them on the seat beside her and stared back at her friends.
"Seems it is," Sarah said, trying to hide her laughter. She held up a piece of chocolate. "This is really good."
She ignored her, but also was now standing up. She glanced down the length of the queue at the people still waiting to buy or pick-up their roses. She recognized plenty of faces standing there, but Tommy was the one who stood out to her. He was standing with some of his sixth-year friends, chatting as they waited to get to the front. She picked up her bouquet and began walking straight toward him. She was apparently going to be everyone's stupid flower fairy.
"You," she said to Tommy as she approached him, watching as he and his friends stopped their conversation and looked at her. "Take these before I throw them in the bin."
"What?" he asked, taking them out of her hands, but clearly looking confused. "Who are these for?"
"Whoever you want to give them to," she said. "Give them to Kenley. Is she still sick? Take them to her now and cheer her up. Tell her these will help her get better. Give them to anyone you want. Just take them."
He was glancing between her and his friends as if he still didn't have any idea what was happening. "Uh, ok?"
From behind her, Glasses appeared once more with the other bouquet of flowers he'd promised her. He said nothing and simply thrust them at her before walking away. She immediately rounded right back on Tommy. "Think she wants more?"
"Are all of these yours? Why do you have so many?"
"Don't ask questions, just take them," she said, glancing over at Tommy's friends. "How about you? You need flowers?"
The tall Ravenclaw with dark hair mumbled something about having already bought some for his girlfriend, but Dominique didn't even let him finish before she practically tossed her second bouquet at him. "Give her more. Split them up between all of you. Eat them for all I care, just take them away from me. Happy fucking Valentine's Day."
With that, she turned and walked back over to where she'd left Sarah and Jack. She sat back down without a word, though Sarah was nodding at her in a very pleased sort of way. "That was nice of you."
She threw her silencing look. "It's not even nine o'clock and I need this day to be over."
"Anywaaaaay," Sarah said in a very sing-song sort of way. "Lucas from France sent this other really nice box of chocolate, and if you're not particularly keen—" She stopped once she noticed Dominique still glaring at her. She then nonchalantly pulled the box of candy toward her. "I just wanted to be sure. It's good chocolate."
She wanted none of it. Absolutely none of it. The only person she would have wanted anything from—and she didn't even want anything other than for him to talk to her again—was sitting directly across from her and had barely spoken. She'd gotten used to him not talking lately, but him having to witness this made his silence feel rather deafening. Her only solace was that she'd managed to get rid of Davies' flowers before he'd seen that.
Just then, right behind Jack and Sarah, her new least favorite person in the world, Glasses, was back with a single flower in his hand. Fantastic, he'd managed to find yet another bloody rose for her. She was about to scream right here in the Great Hall over breakfast.
Glasses must have sensed something in her expression because he suddenly started shaking her head. "You're done. This," he held the flower out, "is for him." He was pointing to Jack. Dominique felt her urge to scream suddenly melt away into something else entirely—though the feeling was equally unpleasant.
Jack had blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't heard Glasses correctly. Sarah even looked rather shocked, and quickly threw Dominique a look as if to say, "Did you?" Dominique shook her head as Jack awkwardly took the flower.
"Who's it from?" Sarah asked bluntly.
"I don't…" He quickly looked at Dominique, already working on the card that came with it. She felt herself suddenly getting very warm as she watched him read it over. His face gave nothing away—he wasn't happy, he wasn't annoyed—if anything he seemed perplexed. After a moment, he finally said, "A secret admirer." He again looked at her.
"It wasn't me," she said, not sure if that's what he was wondering, but also finding the words spilling out of her. "I'm not a secret."
It was now Sarah's turn to look surprised, as if she wouldn't have expected that to come out of her mouth. She smiled at her as if to say, "well done, you," for at least putting it out there, but Dominique was still too focused on Jack and that stupid flower in his hand. She'd hated all the flowers she'd seen today, but none more than that one.
"I have no idea who this is from," he said, looking around the room. Sarah was looking, too, which prompted Dominique to do the same. Whoever had sent it would probably want to see his reaction. They'd be looking. Who the hell was it? If they were watching, they were not making it obvious.
The bell soon signaled that breakfast was over and it was time to go to class, though everyone seemed sluggish and annoyed to have their fun broken up. All around, people were exchanging gifts and happily celebrating; some were sneaking kisses and it seemed as if many of the boys in the school were now proudly sporting lipstick marks on their cheeks, wearing them as a badge of honor. Natalie had returned absolutely beaming, and Flynn had a few marks on his face himself. It almost seemed as if boys were collecting them as some sort of game. Dominique immediately hated it.
Jack stood to join Flynn and Natalie on their trek to Herbology, and while Sarah also had to be in Herbology with them, she hung back for a moment and claimed she'd be right behind. She waited for them all to be out of ear shot before she looked at Dominique. "A secret admirer?'
Dominique frowned as she tidied up after Sarah's discarded candy wrappers.
"Do something," Sarah said urgently. "It's Valentine's Day, for fuck's sake. If you can't figure something out today, then when can you? Did you get him anything? Even something small?"
She shook her head. "Was I supposed to? We're not together."
Sarah closed her eyes in a very frustrated sort of way; she let her head drop. That apparently hadn't been an answer she wanted to hear. "You just received about fifty flowers from a bunch of random people you're obviously not with. Do you see how that works? Someone wants your attention, so they send you something on this day of gifts and presents that you send to people you fancy?"
"And I gave every last one of them away because I don't care about any of them."
"Yes, but you do care about Jack, so it only makes sense to—" She stopped and shook her head. "I'm not going to explain this. You're doing this to drive me mad."
Dominique grinned a little at that, though her grin slowly faded into something more gloomy. "Whatever. You saw him sitting there. He couldn't seem less interested. He barely spoke more than two sentences to me the entire time."
"Are you serious?" Sarah said. "He was practically fuming watching you get all those flowers. I could feel the heat coming off of him." She paused. "At least none of them were from Davies."
Dominique stopped what she was doing and threw her a look. "Had you arrived three minutes earlier, you'd have seen the two dozen fucking flowers he sent me."
She looked confused. "Where are they? What did you do with—?" It suddenly dawned on her. "Natalie's roses."
She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying that comment.
"Oh, that makes so much more sense," she said. "In all the time I've known Flynn, he's been cheap. A dozen would have been a stretch. Two? There's no way. No way."
"He's welcome to them because I sure as hell didn't want them."
"Why is Davies sending you two dozen bloody roses?" she muttered. "He's such a...I hate him."
"Yeah, well that makes two of us.
Other than being Valentine's Day, it was also a Friday, which meant Dominique only had two classes that day. Ancient Runes and a study hour in the morning, then double Transfiguration in the afternoon. It was usually one of her lighter days, but it also was rather isolating; seeing as she didn't see any of her friends until the afternoon. She'd always felt her Friday mornings were rather cut off from the world on a normal day, but it wasn't until after lunchtime—while she was grabbing something quick for lunch—that she noticed the lipstick face marks from breakfast had spread into a full-fledged epidemic.
Boys—in every house, of every age—were walking around with marks on their faces. Some had one or two, others had far more. It had clearly grown into a trend as almost everyone she saw had a mark somewhere on their face. None of them were even attempting to wipe them off.
"What's with the lipstick?" Dominique asked Sarah once they'd caught up with each other outside of the Transfiguration classroom. She handed her a sandwich, which was their Friday routine, considering it took too much of Sarah's time to run down to the Great Hall after Divination and come immediately back upstairs for Transfiguration.
"I have no idea," Sarah said as she took the sandwich and immediately began eating it, glancing up and down the corridor at the boys and their faces. "I started seeing it after I got out of Divination."
Just down the way, a giggly group of Slytherin girls who looked to be third or fourth-years were kissing the cheeks of two Slytherin boys one by one. The girls were laughing and the boys were looking at one another proudly, pointing out their marks like trophies to each other. Almost as quickly as it had happened, the girls suddenly took off in a group past Dominique and Sarah. As they passed, one of them distinctly said, "That's seven and eight for me!"
"It's still early!" said another before they disappeared around the corner.
Dominique wrinkled her nose as she ate the last of her sandwich. "This is going to be a thing now, isn't it?
"A thing that will probably annoy the shit out of me by day's end," Sarah grumbled, turning to walk into Transfiguration class.
They made their way to their usual seats, though it was when they passed Nick Corning sitting in his usual spot with a handful of lipstick marks on his face that Dominique decided to ask some questions. Sarah continued on, but she'd stopped directly beside him.
"What's this about, then?"
He looked up at her, not entirely sure what she was talking about. When she pointed directly to his face, he said. "It means I've gotten a kiss or two."
"Yeah, you and every other bloke in this school," she said. "Why is everyone not wiping their faces?"
"Oh." He shrugged. "Someone started it. Dunno who. A couple of the girls have a contest to kiss the most boys and leave their mark. Some of the blokes are trying to see who can get the most. It's sort of caught fire with everyone. Just a bit of Valentine's fun. You should try it."
She made a face at him before she walked away without another word. She took her seat next to Sarah and reiterated to her exactly what Nick had told her. It caused Sarah to shake her head. "This day needs to be over."
Dominique threw her a small smile before glancing over toward the door and watching everyone as they entered. Now that she really noticed, it did seem like all of the girls were wearing very obvious shades of lipstick today. Bright reds and pinks; a few duller shades. Almost everyone had something on. The boys were all wandering in and comparing their marks, taking the piss on each other for having too few or two many; there didn't seem to be a correct number. It seemed that flowers were not the only gauge of one's popularity this year.
"Everyone really is doing it," Dominique said, watching all of them. "Even Giggleswick got some." She stuck out her tongue. "Who in their right mind would kiss him?
"I'm so glad Louis is in France," Sarah said. "Can you imagine the amount of lipstick he'd have on his face from all the girls looking to make him a target? And he'd let them because he's Louis and that's who he is." She got quiet for a moment before adding, "And he clearly enjoys kissing random girls."
Dominique said nothing, but did muster a sympathetic smile. Outside of the obvious dig at him, she was right. That was who Louis was. She could see some well-meaning fifth-year plucking up the courage to ask him if she could give him a little kiss on the cheek in the hopes of adding him to her collection, and of course he'd oblige. He wouldn't want to make her feel bad. That would start a snowball effect and he'd be absolutely covered by lunchtime.
The sound of the chair on Sarah's opposite side being pulled alerted her to Jack having somehow snuck in when she hadn't been paying attention. Before she could turn to look, Sarah had already muttered, "Oh, bloody hell."
Dominique glanced over at him, and her face immediately twisted into a reaction she wasn't even sure she could define. He'd taken his seat, but had quite a few lipstick marks on his forehead and cheeks.
Sarah reached out rather forcefully and used her finger to smear the mark on his cheek—leaving an odd looking streak behind. Now he looked ridiculous, which Dominique had to admit was better than what she'd been looking at before. That made her smile a little despite the urge to both punch him and cry now overwhelming her senses.
"What's this, then?" Sarah asked, holding her now pink-tipped fingertip up to his face.
"Nothing," he mumbled, avoiding both of their gazes. "It's a stupid game people are playing. It doesn't mean anything."
"Yeah, we heard," Sarah said, her tone clipped.
"Hope you win," Dominique said in an equally clipped tone, immediately yanking her Transfiguration book out of her bag and forcing the other contents to spill out onto the floor. She quickly stuffed it all back inside, now feeling rather hot. Her body didn't seem to know how else to handle the hundreds of emotions pulsing through her currently. She was angry, but she was also hurt. It almost felt as if someone had punched her in the gut the way it was twisting inside of her. Her breathing even felt tighter. If she looked at him, she may cry.
Sarah was looking at her; she could feel her eyes on her. Dominique knew if she looked at her—which wasn't possible since Jack was in that direction as well—she would make her want to cry as well. Sarah would be able to sniff out her distress if she got a proper look at her, and that look of pity she'd inevitably have on her face would also do her in. She instead gripped her textbook and forced herself to read silently.
"Nic?" Sarah asked gently.
She didn't answer. Sarah didn't push it and Ivanson chose that moment to enter and command the attention of the room—much to Dominique's relief. Not that she was keen to get to Transfiguration, but the distraction was more than welcomed.
"Good afternoon," said Ivanson, stopping to look around the room. "And why is it that with every class I teach, the gentlemen's faces and the ladies' lips are all getting more and more colorful? Some of you honestly look ridiculous."
There was a general murmur of laughter and comments, though he quickly held up his hand and said, "As long as it's for today only and does not distract us from our lessons, I'll let it go. Now, please open your text to yesterday's lesson. We still have much to cover before our revision of the unit starts next month."
From beside her, Dominique could just make out Sarah already scribbling furiously in her notebook. She pulled out her own notes while Ivanson jumped right into lecturing. And she purposely turned herself away from Sarah and Jack. For once, she was giving Transfiguration her entire attention—or so she pretended. Her mind was actually entirely elsewhere.
Halfway through the lecture, Dominique heard a loud shuffling beside her and turned to see Sarah scribbling once again. She slid the parchment covertly along the table to Jack—her eyes on Ivanson the entire time. In turn, Jack, who took his time to acknowledge it, nonchalantly picked it up and looked.
If she didn't know any better, and by the looks of the amount of handwriting down the sheet of parchment, Sarah and Jack had been exchanging notes back and forth for at least the length of class. She threw Sarah a curious look, which she returned with a cheeky smile.
She found herself annoyed by all of it, which was only furthered by the sight of Jack's lipstick covered face once again. Her insides felt hot and tight when she looked at him, though when she turned away, it didn't disappear. This was stupid. Why was she subjecting herself to this?
She stood up, having decided then that she no longer wanted to be here. The one good thing about Professor Ivanson's class was that he hated to be interrupted and often stressed that for things such as trips to the toilet during these double session classes that students were simply to exit quietly and without drawing attention to themselves. There was no need to ask permission, simply don't dawdle and return swiftly. Right now, Dominique was using that to her advantage—though she had no intention of returning swiftly. Let him say something. She'd fake cramps.
Ivanson caught her eye briefly but continued lecturing as she walked out into the empty corridor. The toilets were down the hall, and while she didn't have to go, they seemed as good a place as any to escape to for a few minutes. She wandered in, noticing immediately that it was empty, and walked into a vacant cubicle. She sat on the toilet and let the door slam shut behind her, now resting her elbows on her knees.
Minutes passed slowly as she considered how stupid all of this was; how stupid Valentine's Day was. She had random weirdos sending her presents, her ex who she wanted out of the picture forever was sending her a bloody garden's worth of flowers, and the boy she fancied was getting kissed by other girls.
Why did this day even exist if not to make people stressed out and miserable? People in love could celebrate everyday, not just today. Why did they need a specific day to call attention to things? They don't, which is why this day was especially stupid. This day was created by some arsehole who wanted to give everyone else anxiety and make their lives miserable. Fuck them. Fuck them all.
The bell suddenly rang which made Dominique's head shoot up. How long had she been here? Shit, she'd left all of her things back in class. Everyone was going to notice she hadn't returned. She was really going to have to fake something now.
She exited the bathroom and saw that corridors were now filled with people—many of whom were headed straight for where she was standing to gain access to the toilet. She stepped aside and started walking back toward Transfiguration, avoiding kissing couples, roses, and lipstick marked faces as she went. It wasn't until she was nearly back to class when she found Sarah walking toward her with her bag, as well as her own bag, slung over her shoulders.
"Thank you," Dominique said as they met in the middle, taking her stuff from her. "I thought I'd have to walk back in there."
"Where'd you go? Are you alright?"
"Toilet. Stomach hurt."
Sarah threw her a look. "Does it actually?"
Dominique shrugged, though in a completely deadpan tone, she muttered. "Sure. Let's go with that."
Sarah nodded, obviously understanding. "After you didn't come back, Ivanson asked where you'd gone and I told him you hadn't been feeling well earlier." She smiled. "Flu's going around, you know?"
She laughed a little, now realizing that she was either going to have to either stop by the hospital wing and get a quick check-up signed off on by Pomfrey to bring back to Ivanson—or get detention. A part of her thought detention might be easier.
"Jack asked me if that were true," Sarah continued as they walked, and Dominique noticed they were already heading in the direction of the hospital wing. "The part about you not feeling well."
"He's probably worried that since Kenley's got it, he could potentially be down two players for Sunday," she muttered.
"Well, I told him it wasn't and—I'm sorry—but if he can't figure out why you really left, then he's thicker than I'd ever pegged him for." She paused to look over at her. "I may have told him off a bit. Or rather, wrote him off. We were writing back and forth.
"I saw that."
Sarah stopped and reached into her bag. She pulled out a sheet of folded up and wrinkled parchment, now holding it out for Dominique to take. "Read it."
She stared at it, not entirely sure she wanted to. She knew it was obviously about her, but she was already so exhausted by it all. She was not meant for this life of drama and heartbreak. Younger her had completely had the right idea by swearing off romantic intentions and boys all together.
A group of younger kids suddenly came running and giggling through the corridor, causing her and Sarah to step back to avoid being trampled. Now that classes were over for the day, Valentine's Day mania was in full force. It was time to retreat or be swallowed up. As she leaned up against the wall, she finally—begrudgingly—took the note from Sarah and began opening it.
Sarah's neat, rounded handwriting set itself apart from Jack's short, sloppy script. Not that it was difficult to decipher between the two anyway, but Jack's writing—being left-handed—always tended to be accompanied by ink smears when he wrote in a hurry. Much of his writing, she noticed, was smeared. Sarah had evidently started the entire exchange.
-Are you trying to be an arsehole?
-Sorry?
-Don't play dumb.
-I'm not. What are you talking about?
-You know how she feels, and you walk in here with some other girl(s?) lipstick all over your face. What the fuck is wrong with you?
-IT'S A GAME.
-I don't care. You could have washed your face before you came in here if it was JUST A GAME. You wanted her to see it.
-No
He'd underlined the "no" about ten times to the point that the tip of his quill had evidently gone through the parchment from wear. She glanced over at Sarah, who had been watching her read, and pointed at that very part. "For emphasis?"
"Dramatic, right?" Sarah said. "He even made sure I was watching him as he did it. He wanted to make his point."
Dominique let her eyebrow rise before she glanced back down to the note, where Sarah had continued with:
-And you almost made her cry, so well done.
Dominique looked back up at Sarah again. "I didn't 'almost cry.'"
"Sure. Your stomach hurts. Whatever you say."
Dominique made a face, ready to argue and defend herself—despite Sarah being right—but she was far more interested in finishing.
-I'm not trying to make her cry. Do you think I would do that?
-Doesn't matter what I think, it's what happened.
-I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't think she'd get upset. It's a game. It doesn't mean anything.
-You got upset with her for talking to Davies. You can't understand why she'd be upset at seeing other girls' lipstick all over your face?
-Completely fucking different.
-Is it?
-Yes
-No
-YES
-NO
The yeses and nos went on for several more lines; Dominique attempted to imagine them both scribbling angry, one-word responses to each other as they shoved the parchment back and forth between them. Perhaps that was the shuffling she'd heard that had caught her attention in the first place.
Sarah was the one who finally ended the yes/no exchange:
-POINT IS, she talked to her ex and you got upset. She got a hundred flowers this morning, you got upset. You're letting girls kiss on you, she got upset. You've got some mystery admirer, she got upset. You're both so bloody upset all the time because you're jealous twats who STILL FANCY EACH OTHER.
Dominique looked over at Sarah rather blankly. "Speaking of dramatic..."
"You got to that part, huh?" Sarah asked as they reached the corridor to the hospital wing. "I'll have you know he didn't answer me for over an hour after he read that. After you left class and it became clear you weren't coming back. He didn't say a bloody thing, though when he finally does, he writes back that rubbish—" she gestured to the note, "and I could have cursed him."
Dominique looked down to see what exactly this rubbish was. In Jack's smeared script, he'd written:
-It's complicated.
-That's it? That's all you have to say?
-What do you want me to say?
-Is this fixable, yes or no?
-Me and Nic?
-YES, YOU DOLT. WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT?
-Relax. Maybe? I don't know. Where did she go? Is she actually sick?
-Not that I know of. But I have a good guess as to why she left and won't come back.
-She didn't leave because of me.
-Whatever helps you sleep tonight.
-You're annoying.
That was it. That was the end. Dominique looked it all over once again as Sarah watched her. She hadn't learned much from it—nothing had really been said that she didn't know—so she reached out to hand it back to Sarah. "Cool?"
"Class ended so we stopped," Sarah said, taking the note back from her and folding it up. "He was obviously annoyed with me by the end anyway. I know it's nothing too revealing, but—" she stopped to grin at her, "I'll have you know that by the end of class, I evidently touched a nerve because he was definitely scrubbing his face with the sleeves of his robes before he left."
A/N: So, tomorrow will be the last update on this story. Figured I'd put that out there. It's by no means over, but it's the halfway point and it's as good a place as any to break things up. I've discussed it more in my profile updates if you want to check that out. Otherwise, as always, thanks to everyone reading and leaving feedback!