Madam Pomfrey gave Dominique a clean bill of health and told her she seemed fine. Her only suggestion was that she probably ate something that upset her stomach, which Dominique readily agreed with. The sheet of parchment she handed her to prove that she'd been in the hospital wing instead of in class was the only thing she had come in for, and once she'd acquired that, she would have agreed to anything Pomfrey suggested.
Having sat in the hospital wing for the last hour, Dominique found herself oddly relaxed. It was mostly quiet, it wasn't overly decorated for Valentine's Day—outside of a rose that Pomfrey had affixed to her lapel and a few scattered bouquets throughout the room—and the people who were there were not concerned with the happenings of the rest of the school. She'd even run into Kenley, who was also being discharged after her twenty-four hours spent under observation for the flu. She looked fairly well, although not as put together or bright-eyed as she usually would.
"You're not getting sick now, are you?" asked Kenley, once she'd emerged from a spot across the room that had been surrounded by multiple bouquets of roses. There had been enough that Dominique hadn't even noticed her behind them until she stood and walked over.
"Pomfrey says I'm alright," Dominique said as she sat waiting for Pomfrey to return with her paperwork. "So, I guess not. How are you feeling?"
Kenley shrugged. "I've been better, but I'm supposed to be fine by Sunday." She threw her a lukewarm smile. "I know that's what you're really concerned about."
"Happy to hear it," Dominique said, not even pretending that it wasn't true. She pointed over toward the roses. "All of those are yours?"
Kenley followed her finger, as if wondering what she was referring to. She nodded in a rather modest sort of way. "Seems like it."
"How are you going to get all of that upstairs to your room?"
"Pomfrey said she'd arrange for some house elves to help bring them up for me," she said as her expression turned rather amused. "But I hear I have you to thank for some of them."
Dominique feigned dumb and shrugged. "I don't…"
"Tommy told me you gave him a bunch."
She rolled her eyes. "Why would he have told you?" She looked off, her head shaking. "Such a git. Just take credit for them."
Kenley laughed a little. "The impression I got is that he felt it was all a bit over the top. See, he'd already gotten me some, then you doubled that. There would have been a lot of flowers. He didn't want to appear too…" She seemed to be searching for the right word, "overeager? You know how he is."
She didn't actually, but she shrugged as if she did. "But he still gave them to you instead of anyone else. So, instead of claiming to give you two dozen flowers, he only claims one dozen, explains away the other dozen, but still gives you both. It's the same thing with a lot of added bullshit."
Kenley shrugged. "In his head it makes sense. He doesn't want me thinking he spent this fortune on me because that would be weird. I mean, who spends that much on someone they're not dating? But then he still wants me to know he chose me— just so I know. This is Tommy we're talking about. If he's not playing mind games, he's not breathing."
Dominique mumbled a groan, wondering why these fucking games had to exist and why everyone played them. "You know he fancies you. He's admitted it to everyone on the team yesterday."
"I know he does," she said plainly, as if this wasn't news to her. "He's told me. He can be very sweet when it's just the two of us, but..." she shrugged, "those moments are fleeting. He'll say something sweet and then usually attempt to save face the next day by pretending it never happened. Then for good measure, he'll probably try to snog one of my friends."
"Seriously? And you put up with that?"
Kenley laughed. "I'm not any better. I've done stuff to him that's as bad."
"Why?" Dominique asked. "Like what?"
"I don't know," Kenley said with a heavy sigh. "I can't explain why, but sometimes…" She paused for a brief moment as if contemplating how to continue. "Alright, well, the worst was when Jack and I snogged..." She trailed off, as if suddenly realizing who she was talking to and how this may have been awkward. She quickly added, "This was obviously well before you and him were—"
Dominique waved her along as if to get to the point. She was more intrigued by what she was going to say rather than get hung up on some of Jack's past snogging that didn't affect her one way or the other. She may be hung up on the present kissing, but the past was the past. "Whatever. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, that night, he and I had this nothing-sort-of kiss at a party after graduation. I don't know if you remember?"
She remembered. That was a very memorable night in her friend circle; the night Whit ripped Jack apart and created a huge rift between them. That was still talked about for many reasons.
"That happened because Tommy got very wasted the night before and told me he was in love with me and wanted to be with me. I actually bought into it because I was drunk, too. We had a great night together. Perfect, really. For once I thought, we'll make this work. But then the next day, same old shit—acted as if it never happened. He didn't remember. He even went and asked Leisel Parker out to that very party.
"So," Kenley shrugged, "I decided to fuck with him. Jack and I were in a different place back then—very flirty. He was also very drunk. Also, he's one of maybe two people Tommy wouldn't dare fuck with even if he was angry because—and he'll never admit it, but—Jack intimidates him and obviously has the power to kick him off the team. So, what better way to set Tommy off?"
Dominique gaped at her, almost not believing what she was hearing. "Are you serious? That whole thing was…?" She trailed off and started blinking in disbelief. "You have no idea how much shit came out of that night. We still talk about that night."
"Oh, I have an idea," Kenley said with wide eyes. "And don't get me wrong, It wasn't all just for show. He's a cutie and it's not as if I was struggling through snogging him or anything. I had fun. He's a good kisser." She looked back at her and slowly added, "But...you'd obviously know that."
Alright. Now she was starting to push it.
"But, it was never serious. He was still dealing with his ex—who, mind you, yelled at me that night!" She made a face. "She fucking yelled at me. She always hated me. I heard she thought I was the reason they broke up. Whatever made her feel better, I suppose."
Dominique laughed. Merlin's tit. This put an entirely different spin on that entire evening; that entire story. This was a glorious explosion of truth that she only wished she could have heard sooner. She couldn't wait to tell Sarah, or even Victoire.
"Anyway," Kenley said, taking a step toward the exit as if she were about to leave. "Tommy got the hint after that. Not that we've stopped playing games, but we haven't involved other people since then. No more revenge snogging each other's friends, which is progress. I know we sound awful together, but in a weird way, it works for us."
"I'm the last person to judge people for the fucked up ways their relationships work," Dominique muttered, just as Pomfrey returned and handed her a sheet of parchment that stated she'd been checked out and was free to go. She took it with a quick thank you and stood to leave.
"I have to assume you're talking about Davies," Kenley said as they both now found themselves leaving the hospital wing at the same time, "because Jack doesn't seem like the type."
Dominique sighed as Jack and the image of his lipstick stained face popped into her head, "You'd think, but he's not above games. He was walking around earlier with lipstick all over his face just as the rest of them were."
Kenley pulled a surprised face. "From other girls? But aren't you two together?"
Dominique shook her head slowly. "No." She looked at the ground. "We've had some...issues."
"Oh, shit," Kenley said, "I didn't know. And so now he's going around showing off all of the…" She shook her head. "Wow, yeah. I get it. That's straight out of Tommy's playbook." She sighed. "Speaking of him, I bet he's got a face full himself. Can't wait to hear him tell me how they don't mean anything."
"Right?" Dominique agreed, finding herself having an oddly connected moment with Kenley, of all people. Hell had apparently frozen over, but for whatever reason, it felt as if she understood exactly where she was coming from. "I understand we're not together so he can do what he wants, but he's got to know what he's doing."
"Of course he does," Kenley said affirmatively. "They know exactly what they're doing. Then they play dumb. It's so typical. Though, I have to admit, I'd thought Jack might be one of the ones that didn't. It seems he's no better."
Dominique frowned and found herself clenching her jaw. Maybe he was just like the rest of them and she'd been too blind to see it. Just because he wasn't on Davies level of fuckery—which, honestly, was a low set bar to begin with—didn't mean he was suddenly above it all. What if he was trying to rub it in and show her how easily he could move on? How he didn't even think about her or her feelings anymore. What an arse.
She found herself fuming as they walked back up to Gryffindor Tower. There was not a lot of time before they had to get to practice; Kenley said she had to check a few things since she'd been gone all day, but to let everyone know she would be down straight after. Dominique went to change out of her uniform and into her Quidditch clothes, and made the trek all the way back downstairs and out to the arena. Her mind was still swimming and she found herself growing more and more angry—especially knowing she was about to see Jack again.
As she walked into the changing room, she was greeted by most of the rest of the team gathering their equipment and gearing up for practice. Eatins gave out a small cheer when she entered, saying, "She's here!" which caused everyone else to turn and look—seemingly happy to see her. She noticed Jack was missing.
"Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Heard from Jack earlier that you weren't feeling well," Eatins said as he wrapped some handle tape around his broom in a very carefully arranged way.
"Where is Jack?" she asked as she pulled open her locker and immediately set to get her broom out.
"Equipment room," Eatins muttered before he looked up at her. "So, you're not sick?"
"No, I'm fine," she mumbled as she fumbled around in her locker. "Kenley's feeling better as well. She was discharged while I was in the hospital wing getting checked out. She'll be down soon."
That was apparently good news, as a murmur of appreciation and excitement emerged from that announcement. No one seemed more excited than Tommy, who loudly exclaimed, "Is she really out?"
Dominique nodded as she glanced over at him, noticing that he did, in fact, have lipstick all over his face—probably a good ten to twelve marks. She turned and noticed Eatins, too, had a good ten himself, and then James—she stopped and gawked at him. His entire face was covered and he looked absolutely ridiculous. It was as if someone had taken a paint brush and just smashed it against his face. You could barely make out his features underneath the red and pink lipstick smears.
"Honestly, James," she said to him, gesturing to his face. "What the hell?"
He seemed amused at her reaction and immediately smiled. "Girls like me."
"You look like a fucking clown," she said, not even attempting to sugar coat that.
"How many do you think you've got on there?" asked Eatins as he and Tommy now looked as if they were trying to count the marks.
"Fifty-one," he said. "I've been counting. Bloke who gets the most gets twenty gallons. Me and Luke Pepperdine are neck in neck—errr, face in face? Whatever, but I'm going to win." He smiled. "If Kenley's coming, I can ask her if she wants to help out and be fifty-two. I need all the numbers I can get."
"She's coming off the flu, mate," Tommy said, involuntarily squaring up to him. "Back off."
"She could stick to the cheek," James mumbled as if that didn't bother him in the least. "I'm not asking for a snog."
"Why not ask Alice if you're looking for numbers?" Eatins said, gesturing to an otherwise silent Alice. She'd been tying her trainers nearby and looked up at hearing her name.
"Already did," James said dismissively. "She was something like twenty. That was around lunchtime."
Tommy wolf-whistled at that, which made Eatins laugh; Alice turned a little red in the face. She got even redder once he added, "This whole team's going to have snogged each other soon enough."
"It wasn't a snog, it was a kiss on the cheek," Alice said immediately. "Just as fifty other girls obviously did."
"It's still early in the year, love," Tommy retorted, smirking at her as he gestured between her and James. "You've got plenty of time to make that work."
Alice made a face at him, clearly not appreciating the way he was talking down to her, but she said nothing because—ultimately—he did seem larger than life next to her both in appearance and persona. It immediately reminded Dominique of what Kenley had said earlier about how Tommy was only intimidated by a few people. Everyone else was fair game for him.
When he noticed Alice's reaction, he laughed in a pompous sort of way and added, "I mean, he's a bloody Potter. No reason to turn your nose up at that."
"Don't be a dick, Tommy," Dominique said, feeling her aggravation starting to boil over. "Leave her alone."
"I'm not being a dick," he said. "We're just having a laugh." He looked over at her. "Alice, have I said something to be a dick?
Alice stared at him, again not willing to step up to Tommy who she obviously found intimidating. Dominique wasn't sure if she was even fourteen yet, but next to a very seventeen, loud-mouthed Tommy, she looked very small.
"You're always a dick," Dominique muttered, slamming her locker shut and rounding on him. "And for fuck's sake, wash your face before Kenley sees you. Otherwise, I never want to hear you whinging about why you're not at the top of her 'list' ever again. You do this to yourself."
Tommy's brow furrowed as he looked at her, though he didn't say anything. He actually looked as if he may have been considering what she was saying for whatever reason, and even glanced around the room for some sort of confirmation. No one spoke, though he was luckily saved from the deafening silence once the door to the changing room opened to reveal Jack and Kenley now entering. Both she and Tommy turned away from the door—the latter of whom disappearing off to the sinks.
"Hey, look who I found out in the tunnel," Jack said once he'd entered. "She's gotten the all clear from Pomfrey. Looks like you don't have to play Keeper after all, Tom…" There was a pause. "He was just here. Where'd he go?"
"Hey, I'm here," Tommy said, reemerging a moment later with a clean face and a towel in his hand. "Sorry. I heard you. Not Keeping. Happy to hear it." He smiled at Kenley. "I appreciate you getting better and saving me. I really did not want to do that."
She smiled at him and they seemed to have a bit of a moment; one that Dominique chose to look away from since she was in no mood for any of that right now. She instead glanced over at Jack for the first time.
He also was free of any lipstick on his face now; unlike earlier where his face had made her upset, now it just annoyed her. She managed to look away from him before he happened to turn in her direction, listening as he clapped his hands together and told everyone to get a move on and get out on the pitch.
They all did as they were told, filing single file out the door with Jack stopping James to ask him what was wrong with his face. When James explained how he was on a quest to get more girls to kiss him than anyone else in school, Jack seemed unimpressed by the details and shoved him along. Alice and Eatins followed suit, with Tommy hanging back to wait for Kenley to gather her things. Dominique had hoped to sneak by Jack, who was standing beside the door, though that proved to be impossible since he—rather surprisingly—put his arm across the frame to stop her.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, looking her directly in the eyes.
"Fine," she said without flinching.
"I heard you didn't feel well. After you left class—"
"I'm fine," she said, ducking under his arm and walking onward. "Don't worry. You'll have your Seeker for Sunday."
"That's not why—" He paused to glance back into the changing room. "Can you two hurry up? Have a chat later. Now is not the time!"
Tommy and Kenley—both with brooms in hand—came rushing out of the changing room and barrelled past with a quick "Sorry" as they disappeared swiftly toward the pitch. Dominique didn't hesitate to follow after them, though it was Jack who called for her to slow down.
"Hold on," he said, catching up to her. "That's not why I was asking."
"It wasn't?"
"I mean," he shrugged as they walked, "it's good to know. But I'm also genuinely asking how you feel."
"And I'm genuinely telling you, I'm fine," she said as they emerged out of the tunnel and onto the pitch. The cold February air chilled her to the bone and reminded her that she was about to freeze up there on her broom.
"Because if you…" He trailed off. "What I mean to say is, Sarah mentioned you might have been upset about—"
She stopped and rounded on him, though said nothing. That seemed to take him by surprise and he now seemed a little startled as he searched to regain his train of thought. "I, uh, I just wanted to say if I did something to upset you, I didn't mean to. It wasn't trying to. I'm sorry if I did."
Her eyebrow rose at that. Maybe it was because she wondered why he was even apologizing. Why bother? Wasn't he supposed to be angry with her? Why did he even care if she was upset? They weren't together; he owed her nothing. And as Kenley had said, there was no way he didn't know what he was doing. He'd wanted her to see it.
"Fine," she said.
He stared at her, apparently not knowing where to go from there. He glanced around at random and forced a pinched smile. "'Fine' seems to be the only answer I'm getting out of you today."
She'd wanted to say 'fine' once more, just to annoy him, but she bit her tongue and chose to stay silent instead. She wanted this over so she could get on her broom and practice her dives at a dangerous speed. She had a lot of pent up aggression right now.
He slowly sighed. "Alright. Fine." He turned to leave, though immediately turned back around as if he had a second thought. "But I need you to know I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wouldn't do that. It was stupid and it meant nothing."
"So did my conversation with Davies at the Ministry," she said coldly, sidestepping him to pass. "You believe what you want and I'll believe what I want."
She almost thought she'd gotten the last word; that she'd hopefully left him behind blinking and sputtering and confused. She'd gotten roughly ten feet away with thinking this until he called behind her, "You cannot possibly compare the two. They're not the same thing."
She rounded back on him, seeing that he was shaking his head in disbelief and looking defensive. She most definitely had not gotten the last word.
"Your years of history and bullshit with Davies," he said in a loud whisper, closing the gap between them, "is nowhere near the same thing as me playing a stupid game with some girls, who I wouldn't even be able to pick out of a lineup if you put them in front of me right now."
She felt her eyebrows narrowing, but she forced herself to not respond. If she started, things would get bad. She would say something she wouldn't be able to take back. She was in one of those very slippery slope moods where she could easily say things she'd regret if pushed. And he was clearly starting to push.
"You know," he continued, "you're not the only one who's had to witness some stuff they didn't want to see today. Do you think I enjoyed watching the entire country send you gifts this morning? Davies sent you a bloody flower shop!"
Her face fell at that. How did he find that out?
"I asked Flynn where he got the money and it all came out."
She looked away from him. "I didn't ask for any of that."
"Right, fine, whatever," he mumbled. "But you can't blame me for saying 'fuck it' and playing along with stupid games today. It was a reaction to feeling shitty."
"So, your reaction," she began, "to me not being able to control any of that, was to purposely make me feel like shit because you can go get snogged by other girls that easily?"
"No!" he practically yelled. "It had nothing to do with making you feel like shit. It had to do with me feeling like shit and reacting to that! I don't want to snog other girls. If I wanted to, I would."
"Yeah, well, you did."
Jack groaned, his jaw tense and his expression frustrated. "I can't do this right now."
"F-i-ne," she said, enunciating the word more harshly than she normally would as she turned back around and walked over to where the rest of the team was stretching and waiting for things to start. She walked to the furthest end of the group and waited for Jack to give everyone else their instructions before she could fly off and be on her own. She noticed everyone was watching them, though it was Tommy who made the obvious comment.
"I hate when mum and dad fight."
Dominique was the first person back to the changing rooms after practice and the first person to put her things away. She had anticipated an awful practice due to her focus and concentration being rubbish, but she'd oddly enough done exceptionally well. Her dives were tighter; she was getting better speed now that she was angry enough to explode. It was the complete opposite of last year when she and Jack would fight and she'd usually perform terribly. Now, she seemed to be excelling. Perhaps that was a sign.
She was already exiting the changing room before half the team had even made it back, though she had caught James coming around the corner with his colorful face. He'd yelled out that she'd looked great out there today, but she chose to ignore him and continue her way out of the arena and up the hill toward the castle. She planned to grab the quickest dinner she could before marching upstairs, showering and calling it a day. Maybe if she was lucky, Sarah wouldn't have eaten all of that good chocolate. Fuck Valentine's Day.
Through the front entrance, she headed straight for the Great Hall. When she glanced to her left, she was distracted by the sight of Longbottom and Ivanson, along with Erin Tanner, all standing just beyond the entrance. She'd planned to pass right by them, but they apparently had other ideas. Longbottom immediately called out to her once he caught her eye.
She felt a slight rush of panic. Oh, no. Was she in trouble for cutting Transfiguration? It wouldn't explain why Erin was standing there, but it would explain why Ivanson was talking to Longbottom. Shit.
"Glad to see you're feeling better," Ivanson said once she approached, his look appraising. "Well enough for Quidditch practice, it seems."
She forced her face blank. "Um, yes, sir. I suppose my stomach pain passed. Madam Pomfrey examined me. I did go to the hospital wing. I've got the document—"
"We'll worry about that later, Miss Weasley," Ivanson said, glancing at Longbottom. "We've been looking for you."
"I assumed practice had to be wrapping up about now," Longbottom said. "Mr. Giggleswick had said Ravenclaw reserved the pitch at six and it's nearly that now. I figured you'd be back soon."
She stared at them. If this wasn't about her cutting class then what was it about? "Did I do something?"
Longbottom made a funny face. "Why do you always think you're in trouble, Miss Weasley?"
Because she was usually always in trouble. She shrugged and mumbled, "Just bracing myself, I suppose. Usually we only chat when you're about to give me detention."
He laughed a little. There was something in his face that recognized that was generally the case. "Not today. Though," he stopped as if he'd suddenly realized something. "I do owe you a detention, don't I? From the evening of the Christmas Party. I'd forgotten."
Shit. She forced a cheeky smile. "Can we keep forgetting?"
His expression grew amused for a brief moment, though it quickly went straight back into professor mode as Ivanson quipped, "You really should invest in a good Remembrall, Neville. I find them very useful."
Longbottom shrugged him off. "I've never thought so. Regardless," He looked back at Dominique. "Right now, we have other matters to deal with. Professor McGonagall would like to see you."
She stood up straighter. Her? Why? She wasn't in trouble—Longbottom had all but said she wasn't. What else would McGonagall want from her? They'd only even had their first real conversation earlier in the year when she was arranging a Portkey for her to visit Louis in the hospital. In fact, the only reason she could think of for her to want to speak to her again would have to be because of—
"Does this have to do with Louis?" she asked.
Longbottom and Ivanson said nothing, but both forced similar expressions as they gestured for she and Erin—who'd up to this point said nothing—to follow them. Were they going right now? This very minute? She looked down to her practice clothes and beat up trainers. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head and she looked far more appropriate for cleaning the castle, not visiting the Headmistress. She hadn't even managed to grab something to eat.
She and Erin walked in silence as Longbottom and Ivanson chatted about the rose sales this year; how Longbottom was pleased with the sizable donation he would be giving St. Mungo's. It seemed that it was almost ten percent larger than last year, though still about ten percent under his best year ever. That had apparently occurred during a year where a love potion had gotten distributed en masse by a group of students though some tainted butterbeer.
"Terrible incident, of course," Longbottom quipped, "but I won't lie and say it wasn't great for the donation."
As they approached the ugly stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office, she watched as Ivanson stated "Haberdashery" and the gargoyle sprung up to allow them entrance. Ivanson and Longbottom went back to their chat about Valentine's Day plans, though Dominique took the opportunity to finally speak to Erin.
"Do you know what's going on?" she asked as they trailed behind up the stairs.
"No," she mumbled. "I was going to ask you. Ivanson just came down and pulled me out of the Great Hall and told me I needed to come see Professor McGonagall. I thought maybe you knew."
"The last time McGonagall wanted to talk to me it was about Louis," she whispered. "I had to assume this was more of the same. Maybe he went and got caught in a cave again while I was at Quidditch practice."
They rounded the final bend that opened up into Professor McGonagall's large office with all of her tokens and portraits staring back at them. Behind the large desk in the center of the room, Professor McGonagall sat, holding a piece of parchment in the air as if to be examining it. Her eyes flicked over toward her visitors once they had entered and she immediately placed the parchment down. She smiled in a polite, but curt manner as she stood.
"Miss Weasley. Miss Tanner." She nodded at Ivanson and Longbottom as if to thank them for bringing them. "Thank you for coming."
Both Dominique and Erin nodded as they stood there facing her; neither seemed to know what to do or say.
"I first want to apologize for all the mystery lately," McGonagall began. "Specifically about what happened to the both of you at the Ministry of Magic not long ago."
Dominique's face flinched. Both of them? Had Erin had something similar happen? She turned to look at her and saw that Erin was staring back at her in an identical fashion—completely confused and surprised. This was news to both of them. Dominique hadn't forgotten about the incident at the Ministry, but she felt a little dumb for having not asked around to see if anyone else had experienced such a strange encounter. She hadn't assumed it was something that would have happened to anyone else.
"We're all involved in something that is currently bigger than the pieces and people within it," McGonagall continued. "I'm not quite sure of the details or why it occurred, only that it was necessary for Beauxbatons to plan their second task. Know that I was assured that it was of no harm to my own students, which is why I premited it to happen."
"Pardon me, Professor," Erin said, speaking up first. "But what do I have to do with the second task?"
Dominique wondered this as well, noticing that McGonagall had pulled her spectacles off of her face and was using a special cloth to clean them. "As I said, I have no idea of the details since Beauxbatons has every right to keep their task planning a secret. I can only share some of our educated guesses." She quickly looked over to the other professors before focusing her attention back.
"After such a rigorous physical challenge with the first task, it is to be assumed that Beauxbatons is looking for more of a mental challenge. That is very much within their style of magic. They currently lead the world in Legilimency studies, and that's due to their employment of one of the world's greatest Legilimens, Hector DiSilva. We do know that he has been heavily involved in the planning process."
"You may have met him at the Ministry," Ivanson added. "I was told he was there that day."
Both girls shook their heads, and Dominique couldn't remember anyone called Hector. She was actually still trying to remember exactly what Legilimency was since she wasn't entirely sure. Her gut was telling her it was the ability to read minds, but was she mixing that up with something else? She really should pay more attention.
Erin suddenly made a quick noise as if she'd recalled something,"Does he have long, dark hair? Maybe he'd wear it up in a bun?"
"He does," McGonagall continued.
"Then he's the one who gave me the weird ball," Dominique said. "The one that shot out light and got me all mixed up and..." She had wanted to finish with "ruined my life," but she quickly realized that no one in the room cared about the details of her personal life.
"Yeah, me too," Erin said quietly, again looking over at Dominique. She seemed to have questions she wanted to discuss with her—and Dominique certainly had some for her, as well—but neither actually asked. They instead both turned back toward McGonagall.
"I wish I could tell you what exactly this ball you speak of was," McGonagall said with a genuinely curious expression, "but I unfortunately have no idea. I was not privy to that information. In fact, outside of requesting permission to speak to both of you, we are entirely in the dark."
"But why us?" Erin asked, though Dominique had an inkling as to why she and Erin were the two people standing there. They obviously weren't randomly chosen; they were specifically chosen given their relationships with Louis and Zara.
McGonagall cast a glance at Longbottom for some reason before letting her gaze rest back on her. "Miss Tanner, many times, the tournaments have chosen to incorporate personal connections and relationships into their tasks." She looked over at Dominique. "Perhaps your mother once told you a story about how they put her sister at the bottom of a lake?"
"What?!" Erin asked, glancing at Dominique.
She didn't react. McGonagall was right; she had heard about that. And while it sounded horrifying—someone had taken 'the thing her mother would miss most,' her sister, down to the bottom of a lake and told her that there was a chance she would be gone forever—it really hadn't been as bad as the story made it seem. Granted, her mother didn't know any of this at the time and had been absolutely terrified of losing her sister, she hadn't been in any real danger. It was a good thing, because her mother had completely mucked that challenge up and her sister had actually been rescued by her Uncle Harry—who also believed there was a possibility for her to be lost forever. It had come at great personal sacrifice to his own points and standing in the challenge, but he'd still done it. Her mother always said that was the day she found great admiration and respect for Harry Potter.
"She was perfectly safe," McGonagall added to Erin, "As I'm sure Miss Weasley can attest to." She turned to smile a little. "How is your aunt?"
"She's fine," Dominique said slowly. "Lives in Paris with her family. Doesn't remember anything that happened to her down in the lake."
McGonagall nodded as if she expected that to be the answer. "Right. Well, it seems that Beauxbatons is implementing something similar." She paused to look from one girl to the next. "And the two of you have been determined to be those personal connections. As it was explained to me, after many hours spent studying Louis and Zahara, the powers that be have established that you two are the people they know best. This is apparently important. It couldn't just be anyone, it had to be the two of you. It seems they're both depending on you—though they aren't aware of that."
Erin stood there blankly, whereas Dominique had already started to put the pieces together. They were clearly going to be using her in a similar way they did her aunt for her mother.
She started to feel her breaths going in and out. Shit, were they going to put her in at the bottom of a lake? Did she have to agree to this? Of course she did. This was Louis. She would do anything for him, especially if it meant helping him.
"I wish I had more information for you," McGonagall continued. "I have been assured that you both will be perfectly safe and I have complete faith and trust in Madame Maxine to keep her word. Unlike others..." McGonagall's face suddenly looked pinched.
"Professor, when would this happen?" Erin asked. "The second task, that is?"
McGonagall stood up straighter, addressing them both head on. "You're needed now."
"Now?!" Dominique blurted out before she knew any better. "As in, right now?"
McGonagall nodded, turning back around toward her desk and picking up her wand. "As in right now. And I have to ask you both a very important question that I will ask once and once only." She turned to face them. "Do either of you refuse to volunteer for your chosen champion?"
"I…" Erin stammered, now looking rather overwhelmed. "I want to help, but I'm so confused and I really have no idea—" She looked at Dominique, who immediately sympathized with her. "We have to make this decision right now?"
"Yes, unfortunately it does require immediate action. I received the owl just an hour ago. The task will be held tomorrow morning. I'm told you should both be travelling home by tomorrow evening."
Dominique immediately thought, unless I get eaten by a dragon, which was how she approached everything tournament related. She told herself that her aunt had been left unscathed; her aunt had never been in any danger. Louis might be, but not her. She'd never forgive him for getting her roped into this, but she couldn't leave him high and dry. She'd fight anyone for him, after all.
She slowly nodded at McGonagall. "I want to help him."
McGonagall smiled, glancing over at Erin. "Miss Tanner?"
"If I say no, what happens?"
"I can't say because I don't know."
Erin swallowed hard. She did not look comfortable with this at all, but she quickly nodded. "I want to help her."
"Excellent," McGonagall said, holding her wand up to Dominique's face first. "Then let us begin. And I promise you, Miss Weasley, you will be completely taken care of. You have my word."
Dominique didn't have time to ask any further questions or even press as to why McGonagall had a wand in her face. Before she could formulate the words to speak, she blinked and didn't immediately open her eyes. The last thing she remembered was that her body felt numb before everything suddenly went black.