Written for:
Quidditch League - Round 8. Wigtown Wanderers - Captain: Write about someone at odds with a member(s) of their family.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Task #1: Write about an event going terribly wrong.
A/N: Transgender Dominique - Deadname is Arthur (nicknamed Artie), due to it being a French boy's name, and the tradition the family seem to have of repeating names.
I'm going to use this AN to explain Molly in this fic. From what we know about her, whilst she believes that she has everyone's best interests at heart, it doesn't make her right. Things that spring to mind are: Fred and George's joke shop, her treatment of Fleur, Sirius and Hermione, when she believes they are in the wrong, or just doesn't approve of them.
Mamie and Papy are French, less-formal terms for grandmother and grandfather.
Thanks to Dash, Sab and Angela
The world will follow after
Dominique never expected her family to be so supportive. Well, most of them.
Dominique/Teddy
Warning for transphobic comments (due to ignorance)
"These do not fit me," Victoire proclaims as she walks into the room, dropping down a stack of clothes with disdain. Dominique's gaze shifts from the sheet-music, and her playing stops.
Fleur walks over to the clothes and lifts up a beautiful lace dress. Dominique's eyes widen at the sight. She's always loved that dress.
"I can bring this to your grand-mère to adjust," Fleur decides.
Victoire shakes her head, her beautiful curls brushing her shoulders as she does, and Dominique's eyes follow the movement enviously. She reaches up to her own hair, which barely brushes her ears. "I need new clothes," Victoire insists. "I cannot be seen in these anymore."
Dominique glances around for her dad, but he's nowhere in sight. Their dad is quite thrifty, and would insist that Victoire get a little more wear out of the clothes.
"We can give these to Percy for the girls," Fleur decides. "Your father will be happier, and we shall go shopping."
Dominique tries to push down her envy. Her sister and mother love shopping, and she's always wanted to join them.
"I'll drop them off later," she offers, setting down her violin. "I was going to stop over to talk to Uncle Percy anyway."
"About that position in the Ministry?" Fleur asks, beaming. "It was wonderful of him to offer you some work experience. I am so proud."
Dominique nods again, because what else can she do? It's a wonderful chance, and the family are excited at having another "Arthur Weasley" at the Ministry. She'd rather work with music, but she's scared of disappointing her family.
It's why she still lets them call her by the wrong name. She'd planned to tell them the truth last year on her seventeenth birthday, but eighteen has crept up on her and she still hasn't told anyone.
"Très bien. You are so good, my dearest son," Fleur says, walking over and kissing her cheek. "Victoire and I will be shopping today. Will you be okay? Your father is at the bank for a few hours. We will meet him and then all go out for dinner this evening."
She nods. Louis is at Hogwarts and she can look after herself. "I'll be fine," she insists. She puts the violin in its case and watches with envy as her sister and mother get ready to leave.
Her gaze moves to the clothes. Maybe it's not the worst thing in the world.
Dominique feels the tears in her eyes as Victoire and her parents stare at her. Her usually tidy hair gelled back into a more feminine style—albeit, the length is a problem—and the lace dress cut across the bottom into a very long top. Finishing off the look are some of Victoire's old shorts, which Dominique had spent over an hour on with scissors, fraying along the bottom and carefully adding tears and rips to eye-liner was almost done, and Dominique was feeling much more herself.
Why are they back so soon? They're supposed to be gone for hours. It's been less than two.
She can't think of a way to explain herself, and the tears start falling, and Victoire strides over, grasping Dominique's chin in her hand. "None of this," she demands. "If you cry, your make-up will run. Wash your face and I will show you how to do this properly."
Victoire turns to Fleur, who is just staring. "Maman, can you fix this dress?"
Fleur just stares.
"I want everyone in the living room in ten minutes," Bill says, taking his wife's hand and leads her from the room.
Dominique turns to her sister.
"I shall teach you to sew," Victoire says crossly. "And we will fix that into a more suitable top." She rolls her eyes. "You could have asked me and I would have done this for you." She reaches up for the gelled hair, and recoils. "Too much. I will fix this too."
Dominique manages a small smile, and Victoire uses a face-wipe to wipe at the black-streaked tears on Dominique's cheeks.
"Wash off the make-up and your hair," Victoire orders. "I will teach you these things later." She hugs Dominique before striding from the room.
Dominique keeps her head down as she walks into the living room. She drops down onto the sofa and glances up at her parents.
"This is not something we're used to," Bill starts softly, once everyone is settled. "So if we say something wrong, or… then you just tell us, and we'll… we'll learn, okay?"
Dominique nods. She feels the panic rising up inside of her and she's terrified at how this could go. Her hands are shaking, and she wraps them tightly around herself.
"What is your new name?" Victoire demands. "Or do we discuss this first?"
Bill holds up a hand to silence Victoire, his focus on Dominique.
"I was thinking… I like… maybe Dominique?" she mutters uncertainly, because what if her parents hate the name? What if they're upset that she's not Arthur or Artie anymore?
"I like it," Victoire says. "Don't you, Maman?"
Fleur nods, still dazed.
"And female." This is a whisper now. But she's said it, and she's proud of herself.
"And you've felt this way for… for a while?" Bill pushes, a supportive smile on his face.
Dominique nods. "I was going to… tell you all on my seventeenth birthday, but I… I didn't know how." Her voice is shaking and she can't hide it. She's fighting the panic and the tears are falling.
"If you felt this way for some time, why seventeen?" Victoire asks.
Dominique doesn't look at them. She looks at the patterned rug on the floor. She can't voice this.
"Because you became an adult," Bill finally murmurs. "Did you… did you think that we'd ask you to leave?"
"I don't know," Dominique whispers, because it had been her biggest fear—her parents or siblings not accepting her, and her feeling forced to leave. That's why she's put it off so long.
"I would never ask you to leave," Fleur says, snapping out of shock and standing up. "You are my… my child, non? My… daughter. It may be a shock, but we love you, and if anyone dares treat you badly, I will deal with them myself."
"What do you need for us to support you, Dominique?" Bill asks.
Dominique considers the question. What does she want? What has she always wanted?
"I want to go with Mum and Victoire on their shopping trips," she starts quietly, because that's been eating away at her for years. "I've always wanted to be a part of that."
As the words fall from her lips, she feels more confident. More free. Her voice gains traction, and she looks at them with determination. "I don't want to work at the Ministry, or play the violin, I want to play the guitar. I want people to see me as Dominique, to have pierced ears and fun hair and wear whatever I like. I want to be me, and I'll tell everyone at the party. If you're all happy with this."
"We're your family," Bill says softly. "We're happy as long as you're happy." He glances around at Fleur, who nods.
"We will go shopping tomorrow," Fleur adds. "And I will book you an appointment for your hair the morning of the party."
"You tell us everything. We want to know the real you," Bill insists.
The tears are back, because she never imagined that they'd be this accepting. She stands up and approaches her parents, and they stand too.
"We can… talk to a Healer about this?" she asks.
Her dad wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly, and that means everything, because she's so used to the proud pat on the back or shoulder—the same as Louis gets—and it's always been Victoire that gets these hugs. She feels two more sets of arms wrap around her.
"I'll call in a favour and get you an appointment after dinner tonight," he promises.
Dominique stares at herself in the mirror, shocked. She left her hair in the hands of Victoire, and her sister didn't disappoint, picking a style that just fits with the image that Dominique has been trying to create.
Choppy layers fall over an undercut. Streaks of brilliant blue run through her hair, and her ears are throbbing a little from the piercing, but each throb just reminds her that she has earrings in now. Little studs, but it's a start.
Victoire assesses her for a long moment. "You look perfect," she finally declares.
"Really?" Dominique asks.
Victoire nods. "Oui," she murmurs. "I have never considered this punk look for myself, but you look amazing like this."
Dominique looks at herself again. She's chosen a white t-shirt with the slogan 'music is the answer', and some skinny jeans that are covered in rips. She has some boots that remind her of both Teddy and Sirius, and a cute striped beanie that Fleur chose for her.
Silver and black bracelets dangle around her wrists.
She can't help but smile at her reflection. Victoire is right, she does look perfect. She looks like Dominique.
"I explained to all of you as you arrived that things here have changed. That Artie isn't who you expect, and that whatever happens today, I would like you to show respect. On that note, I'm going to introduce you to my daughter, Dominique," Bill says.
Dominique isn't ready for this, but Fleur has her arm and pulls her out of the kitchen and into the garden. Everyone is quiet.
"Yay, Dominique," Victoire says, grabbing Teddy's arm and shaking it, and giving him a pointed look.
"Looking good, uh, Dom," he calls. She smiles at him, delighted that Teddy already has a nickname for her.
Sirius is quick to follow, and her uncles have kind words, and everyone has something to say. She smiles around the garden, and her gaze turns to her grandparents who look even more in shock than her parents did.
Papy finally approaches, his gaze moving down to her shoes, to her ears, and to her hair, and he stops in front of her.
"Tell me," he starts. "Did they use that little gun thing to make the holes in your ears?" He watches her eagerly for an answer, and the normality of it all puts her at ease and she can't help but laugh.
"They did," she confirms.
"Fascinating, Dominique, tell me—"
"Arthur, enough," Mamie says, approaching. She looks more serious than Dominique has ever seen her. Mamie is always smiling and happy. Except today.
"I don't understand what is happening," Mamie says. "Artie dear, where are your usual clothes?"
"These are her normal clothes," Bill quickly interjects. "Mum, can we have a word? I'll explain…" he guides her into the house, and Dominique feels her mamie's gaze on her until the door closes behind them.
There are raised voices immediately, and Sirius is up on his feet. "Let's start with some music, shall we?" he says, turning on the radio and putting the volume up high. Suddenly everyone is talking and attempting to drown out the noise. Dominique notices a few family members remove gifts; they come over with promises to get her something else soon.
A few songs play before the door opens and Bill comes out, his mouth set into a firm line, and his mother following. She returns to her seat, and her eyes fall on the gift that Arthur had just removed from the table.
"Time for presents," Fleur announces. She grabs a plastic crown from the table and sets it on Dominique's head. It's a stupid thing that her parents always did for Victoire, and Dominique loves that she's getting this too now. She should've told her family years ago.
"From me and your father, ma chérie," Fleur says, handing over a large box.
Dominique tears into the paper, and freezes half-way through. "A guitar," she whispers, her eyes on the shiny black body of it. She pulls the rest of the paper off, running her hand up the neck, over the strings. She forces herself to put it down and moves on to the next gift, thanking each family member as she does so.
When the last is opened, her father and Papy head inside, and that's when Mamie approaches, a strained smile on her lips.
"Happy birthday, darling," she says, handing the box over.
Dominique takes the present and whispers her thanks as she opens it. But stops dead as she looks at the item inside, just as her father and Papy open the door with the birthday cake.
Dominique picks up the watch. It's almost the same as the one from last year—the one she lost. It's tradition in the family for the men to get a watch on their seventeenth birthday.
She turns it over, knowing it'll be engraved with a name her parents agreed she'd never have to use again.
Arthur.
"That's not for you," her Papy says, snatching it away.
"You'll get a bracelet like all the others," her father says, angrier than Dominique has ever seen.
"Bill, Artie will appreciate this one day when this phase is over," Mamie says. "Of course he'll want the name Arthur, after his grandfather. It'd be disrespectful to use any other name, and isn't Arthur worthy of sharing his name with his grandson?" Dead silence follows these words, and Dominique feels the tears again, because if this is how Mamie feels, is this how the others feel?
Her mother stands, fury in her eyes, and Dominique feels a hand take hers. She glances around in panic, and Teddy is at her side. He pulls her towards the end of the garden quickly, and she's grateful that they move away as her mother starts to shout, her accent becoming more pronounced in her anger.
They reach the river, and sit down on the grass.
"Expectations are hard," Teddy says quietly. "She doesn't speak for the rest of your family."
"She hates who I am now," Dominique murmurs.
Teddy shakes his head. "She doesn't understand," he tells her. "Hopefully she does one day."
Dominique nods, tears flowing once more, and Teddy wraps his arm around her shoulders. It stays there until the tears dry. When she wipes her face, he holds out an envelope.
She opens it. "Concert tickets? Who is Panic! At The Disco?"
"An excellent Muggle band. I was thinking we could go. I mean, you can use the spare ticket for anyone you want. But…"
She smiles. "As friends?" she checks.
He shakes his head.
"A date, if you'd like," he tells her, and her heart pounds against her chest as she nods.
When they return, there's no shouting anymore. "Is Mamie still here?" Dominique asks.
"She and your papy went home," Bill explains. "He's intent on getting you a bracelet—he said to tell you that he loves your new name. We're going to have another, smaller get-together next week because some of the family still want to give you gifts."
"And Mamie?"
Bill hesitates, and that's all the answer that Dominique needs. She tries to smile as Fleur distracts her with the birthday cake, and she almost forgets about what happened when Teddy takes her hand in his and gives her the warmest smile that makes her heart skip. She almost forgets that her mamie isn't here. That her mamie doesn't accept her.
Almost.
Dominique can't do much about her hair, and she can't take the earrings out. But she wears her old jeans and an old jumper that her mamie made her the previous year. She tries to fix her hair into something that looks more boyish.
"Dominique, what are you doing?" Fleur asks.
"I'm going to visit Mamie and Papy," Dominique replies. "Perhaps I can fix things if I look like Artie around her every time."
Fleur takes a seat on the bed, inspecting the new covers. Grey with colourful flowers. A little childish perhaps, but Dominique likes it.
"You are my daughter," Fleur says. "I know you love your grand-mère, but you are not Arthur. You cannot force yourself to be someone else to appease someone who should show you love and support. She should accept Dominique."
"But she hates Dominique," she replies. "I don't want her to hate me, Maman. I just don't know what to do."
"This will be fixed in time," Fleur insists. "I have spoken to your other grandparents in France, and we have decided to take a few days to visit them."
With that, she leaves the room again, and Dominique looks back at her reflection critically. The clothes are removed, and she reaches for something more Dominique.
"Happy birthday."
Dominique didn't expect Mamie, and she almost drops the plate she was drying. She sets it down carefully.
"I know the party isn't for a little bit, and I'm not sure if I'm welcome. But… but your mother visited me the other day. She sat me down and told me—quite bluntly—that you're scared that I hate you."
Dominique doesn't know what to say.
"You're my family, and you matter to me. My confusion and lack of understanding… Those are things I need to work on," Mamie explains. "But no matter what name you use, I still love you as much as every grandchild of mine, and would give my life to protect you, as I would the rest of my family. I'm sorry, Dominique."
Dominique hesitantly opens it and pulls out a silver charm-bracelet like the one Victoire got on her seventeenth. Her Mamie fixes it to Dominique's wrist.
"I will learn. I will be a better grandmother, but I should go now." Her mamie leans in and places a kiss on Dominique's cheek, before turning to leave.
"Stay," Dominique offers. "Please."
Mamie turns and smiles. "If you're sure."
Dominique nods. "And the watch?"
"There will be another Arthur Weasley one day," Mamie says. "But you will always be Dominique."