The following morning, Dominique awoke to find two things: a slight, but tolerable soreness in her arms and Jack's vacant bed. She was only surprised by one since she'd anticipated being in far more pain than morning than her body suggested. That green drink must have done something for her even if she'd only managed to keep it down for ten minutes; it must have done wonders for Jack if he was already gone—presumably running or working out. She'd noticed last night that he hadn't wanted his ice pack once he'd returned—about ten minutes after she had—and that he was wincing less and less with every passing minute. She'd also been right to assume that he'd stopped to chat up Vanessa in the canteen, seeing as they could understand each other now. They apparently had very loose plans to hang out soon.

It was already seven o'clock in the morning, and she was due to the pitch in an hour. Now that she felt good, she was ready to face another day—at least she told herself that. She didn't quite know how she felt, but she did know that she had just enough time to get dressed and get down to the canteen for breakfast before having to start this nightmare over again.

She hurried to get ready and grab her broom, making her way down to the canteen with a lot of other stragglers. There were plenty of people around who had been up for hours and looked loose and ready. Some were sipping coffee; others were doing calisthenics in the courtyard. There was also a pair of individuals who clearly hadn't gone to sleep that night and they were happily singing an old drinking song on a bench in the Square.

As she entered the canteen, she immediately grabbed a tray and began helping herself to bowls of fruit and spoonfuls of eggs. There were waffles that looked amazing, but she wasn't sure a heavy waffle was the way to go before her day. Her stomach was still a little touchy after that drink last night.

"Good morning," came a voice from behind her, and when she turned she saw Annabelle standing there with her own tray of food in her hand. She looked to be in good spirits, despite the fact that her eyes looked tired. Dominique suspected that had less to do with her exhaustion from Quidditch and more to do with a late night out.

"Morning," Dominique said, clutching her own tray. "Sleep well?"

"Slept barely. Need coffee," she said, turning abruptly and walking away. Dominique got the impression that Annabelle had wanted her to follow, but she wasn't completely sure. One glance around the room, which revealed no one else she knew, made her decide that she may as well.

At the table she'd walked to, Dominique immediately recognized some familiar faces; all currently absorbed in their own separate worlds. Durrin was absently chewing on a piece of toast, his gaze a little spacey and—presumably—hungover. Across the table from him, Stuart Reynolds was pouring over a copy of the Daily Prophet. He seemed very involved in whatever he was reading and didn't even notice them approach.

"Look who I found," Annabelle said, taking the seat next to Stuart and across from Durrin. She made a grand sort of presenting gesture, which made Dominique feel stupid. Yes, she knew Durrin, but she'd barely ever spoken to Stuart. The whole lot of them had been older and she'd barely crossed paths with any of them outside of Qudditch. Victoire had dipped in and out of their clique, and Louis was well-known enough to have gotten their attention, but she'd steered away from them. If, by chance, he remembered her from Quidditch, she was fairly certain those memories weren't very good.

Stuart didn't even look up from his paper, even with Annabelle's over the top announcement. Durrin—the one she actually knew—barely acknowledged her. He'd given her a quick nod and gone back to his toast.

"Such a warm reception," Annabelle mumbled, specifically looking at Durrin. "Just yesterday you said you were hoping to catch up with her."

"And I meant that," he muttered, "but I'm also barely awake."

"Ignore him," she said, now smiling at Dominique. "Sit down."

She did as she was told and sat next to Durrin. Across from her, Stuart had raised his paper up in front of his face, now creating a barrier wall between them. He didn't seem to do it on purpose, but it was a bit of an icy move.

"I was telling Durr yesterday about how we ran into each other," Annabelle said, sipping her coffee. "And about how your day was awful. It brought back memories from when we were still in school and visiting here on our trip. I had so much fun that week."

"Really?" Dominique asked. "Because I've been wondering when the fun part is supposed to begin."

"That was the best bloody week ever," Durrin said, now looking as if he was forcing himself to wake up. "It was the sort of trip you could never duplicate, you know? Something about your first time." He looked at Annabelle. "Speaking of first times, that week was when I first asked you out."

She smiled. "I do remember that. That's a really sweet memory."

"Also the first time you let me feel you up."

Her smile slid off of her face. She threw Dominique an apologetic look, as if to say she was sorry she had to hear that. "I remember that, too."

Durrin smirked. "But not the last time."

"Durr!"

"Ok, sorry," he said, laughing before thankfully changing the subject. "Anyway, Nicki, how have you been? Get into anything fun around here?"

She shrugged, more out of obligation rather than to answer his question. She really didn't know what to say since she'd done nothing more than get through her tasks and fall asleep so far.

"You went back to the dorm last night and passed out, didn't you?" asked Annabelle.

"Yes."

Durrin pulled a pitiful face. "Why?"

"Because I was dying," she argued. "I've never been that tired before in my life."

"To be fair," Annabelle said to Durrin, "she is in the Eager Elite group. And remember, they work you to death."

Durrin's eyebrows rose slowly at something Annabelle had said. "I'm sorry, but the eager, what?"

"I've told you before," Annabelle said between bites. "The groups they sort everyone into. I have names for them. Eager Elite is the top group."

He inhaled slowly, as if that explanation did ring some sort of bell in his head. "Right, I just call it the top group since that would make actual sense." He turned back to Dominique. "But you've always been hell bent on being the best bloody Seeker in the world, so I get it. Live your dream or whatever." He suddenly reached over and picked up a paper napkin off the table and began to crumble it into a ball. "But if you do go pro, don't forget about me. I feel fairly responsible for getting you started."

She made a face. "Right, I'm sure my years of hard work meant very little."

"See, you understand," he said before taking his napkin ball and flinging it at the back of Stuart's newspaper. It bounced right off and onto the table. "Hey plonker, you're not at work. Stop reading about the stupid goblin extortion."

Stuart barely flinched, though he did speak for the first time since Dominique had sat. "Relax. I'm almost done."

She'd looked to see the headline on the front of his Prophet—it had to do with a huge Gringotts scandal three months ago, where a questionable group of wizards and goblins had somehow compromised a highly protected vault within the bank. Her parents had talked about it non-stop when she'd arrived back from Hogwarts, but she only vaguely knew the details. The headline seemed to indicate that the accused were headed to trial.

"Stu's in deep with that one," said Annabelle, watching Dominique inspect the paper. "He's been helping work on the defense."

"Him and about twenty-five other people," Durrin corrected. "He's junior level acting like he's the bloody lead."

"Give him a break," said Annabelle. "Can't make it to senior level if you don't bust your arse at junior."

"He never stops working, which—"

She made a face that cut Durrin down mid-sentence. "You cannot possibly say anyone works more than you do."

"He does it by choice. I have to!"

"Durrin works at St. Mungo's," Annabelle explained to Dominique. "In antidote research. I'm not kidding when I say he's never not—"

"She's aware," Durrin interrupted. "She knows Ted since he's dating her sister."

"Oh, riiiiiiiiight," she said slowly. "Him."

"Don't bring it up," Durrin mumbled to Annabelle. just as Stuart suddenly put down his newspaper.

"Bring what up?" he asked, picking up the paper ball that had been thrown at him and now tossing it back at Durrin's head. He went to dodge it, but it plunked straight off of his forehead. In the past, Dominique had actually seen him save a few Quaffles that way.

"Forget it," Durrin said dismissively, seemingly eager to change the subject. "Nice of you to join us today."

"You know, you can piss right off," Stuart said in a cheerful sort of way, reaching over to pluck a piece of toast off of Annabelle's plate. "I've spent the last few months killing myself over that case, so forgive me for wanting to catch up and make sure I'm not going back to a shit show in a few days." He stopped speaking when he noticed Dominique across the table. He blinked a few times. "Um, hello?"

"Hi."

"Where did you…? Have you been there the whole time?"

She shrugged, while Annabelle added, "It's been a bit, yeah."

He frowned a little and ran a quick hand through his hair. "Seriously? I didn't even notice."

"Not a single person is surprised," Durrin muttered, shaking his head at him.

Stuart completely ignored him and instead looked at Dominique. "Sorry. I can get distracted." He then smiled in a way that she immediately recognized. She'd seen her brother perfect that exact smile over the years; people could never stay mad when that smile appeared.

Stuart actually reminded her of Louis in some ways. Not in appearance or even personality really, but the way he carried himself and knew exactly the right move or thing to say. People ate it up. He'd easily been the most popular boy at Hogwarts for years and girls would do anything to get a moment of his attention. Even her own sister had been absolutely mad about him—resulting in a brief fling that ultimately went nowhere. Sarah and Natalie—when they were still friends—would make a point to attend Ravenclaw's Quidditch practice just to watch him so they could swoon and giggle. Dominique had always found it all very annoying since he wasn't even that cute. Plus, he was a wide flying Chaser that often took up too much space on the pitch instead of simply flying in his lane, and that annoyed her about him more than anything.

"See," said Durrin, pointing at Stuart. "This is what I mean. You're half here and half back at the Ministry. You're supposed to be having fun with us. Drinking, chasing girls—"

"Since when has Stu ever had to chase a girl?" Annabelle asked, taking his Prophet and sliding it across the table toward herself. She began absently reading over the front page. "I've only ever seen him catching the ones that fall all over themselves around him."

"You've got some strange ideas about my social life," Stuart said before he stood up. "I'm getting food."

He walked away at that, and both Annabelle and Durrin watched him go before the latter of the two muttered, "This has got to be his last year doing this. He's getting too swept up in Ministry life."

She nodded a little solemnly. "Soon it'll just be the two of us. It's already gone from six to three." She turned her attention back to Dominique. "Enjoy your friends and seventh year while it lasts, because soon you're all in different directions and lucky to even get half of them in a room together."

"Seriously," Durrin agreed, also glancing over at Dominique. "Speaking of seventh year, are you ready?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I suppose. Not looking forward to exams."

"Fuck those," he said. "I hated N.E.W.T.s. The hours of studying..."

"So much studying," Annabelle agreed. "And by the second half of the year, if you're not sleeping, eating, or in class, you're studying."

"Sleeping?" Durrin asked. "Who had time for sleep? I sure didn't." He shrugged. "But I did really well. I guess it paid off."

"Did you sit five subjects?" Dominique asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I ended up with nine N.E.W.T.s. Fucked up my History of Magic written exam. How many are you sitting?"

"Five. I'd be happy if I could get seven or eight."

"I only ended up with eight," Annabelle said, just as Stuart returned to the table with a large plate of fruit. "Completely mucked up my Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam and my Muggle Studies written exam. How many N.E.W.T.s did you get, Stu?"

"Twelve."

"Such a bloody overachiever," Durrin said with a roll of his eyes, though Dominique was a little surprised. She'd heard he was clever—though, that had been from Victoire during the heyday of her obsession with him—but she hadn't expected him to be at the level of achieving twelve N.E.W.T.s. Even her sister and Ted had only gotten ten, and she'd always taken them to be top of the class kinds of intelligent.

"If you want to talk overachieving," Dominique said, "my brother's already sat two subjects and got four N.E.W.T.s."

"Wait, as a sixth-year?" Durrin asked. "They let him take N.E.W.T.s early?"

"Only Charms and Herbology," she said, "and he had to jump through a lot of hoops. Practically all of the professors had to sign off on it. Longbottom stressed constantly that he could not retake them, and that since he may do better after another year at school it may not be the best idea to do it. But, they eventually let him. And he got top marks. He's planning on sitting five more subjects this year."

Durrin's jaw dropped. "Wow. I almost don't believe it since he also manages to have a social life and friends and—"

"And he's gorgeous," Annabelle said with a little smile.

Durrin pulled a face before Dominique could. "Well, that's not what I was going to say, but sure. Go with that."

"Who's your brother?" Stuart asked, his fork hovering over his plate as he chewed on what appeared to be a cantaloupe.

Dominique stared at him. She wasn't used to people not automatically knowing that she and Louis were a set, but it seemed that was the way things were headed these days. She was going to have to get used to it. "Louis Weasley."

Stuart's face twisted into something Dominique could only describe as confusion. He hadn't expected that answer. "Wait. Weasley? Ok, now I'm really going to come off as a rude prat but...what's your name?"

Annabelle hit him in the arm. "You've been sitting here this whole time and you don't know her name? You are rude. What's wrong with you?"

"I don't..." He actually looked a little embarrassed. "I'm not usually this bad. I swear."

"Dominique Weasley," Durrin said in an introductory tone, gesturing to Stuart. "This is Stu Reynolds. He clearly has no manners and was raised by wild Hippogriffs—"

Stuart rolled his eyes.

"—and Stu, this is Dominique. She was my Seeker back at school. Maybe you'll remember her as the girl who outpaced that smarmy little shit Seeker of yours time after time?"

His eyes widened at that revelation. Now it seemed as if things were suddenly coming back to him. "Oh shit. I do remember you. I absolutely remember you."

"And I remember you," she said, feeling bold. "You screwed my sister over."

She could actually see the realization washing over him now, but all he did was slowly start to nod. "Right, because if you're Louis' sister, you're obviously Victoire's sister too..."

"Generally how families work, mate," Durrin said.

Stuart sat forward in his seat, leaning toward her with a sudden interest. "You're the one who got Henry Davies right in the bollocks after that one match we had, aren't you?"

Durrin snorted.

Dominique didn't even try to hide her smile as a flash of Henry's face flickered across her mind. "And I'd do it again."

Stuart looked briefly surprised to hear that, but he eventually cracked a smile—apparently amused for whatever reason. "Yeah, Davies could be a bit much sometimes. He probably deserved it."

"You don't have to tell me. He's my ex."

Annabelle's jaw dropped slightly while Stuart let himself thump dully back into his seat. "Well, there's a fucking twist."

"I'm telling you," Durrin said, nodding in agreement. "When I heard that, I'd just thought the whole world's gone mental. People find love in the strangest of places."

Dominique straightened up and shook her head immediately. "No. No love. Not even a little. But 'strange'— now that I'll give you that."

"How'd he manage to pull you?" Stuart asked, though it didn't sound like a question he was looking for a specific answer to. And if he was, she didn't know how to answer it. Was that a compliment? It seemed rather backhanded.

"Stu, I swear," Annabelle said with a roll of her eyes, "if that was a line, it was terrible." She looked at Dominique. "This is what happens when you grow up knowing you're handsome. You think any sort of shit you say makes girls want to sleep with you. Even if you've been acting like a complete prat."

"For the love of..." Stuart muttered. "Slow it down. Why do you always think I'm trying to pick up every girl I talk to?"

"I wouldn't say every girl," she said, "but every other girl."

"That's not even close to the truth." He looked over at Dominique. "And for the record, that wasn't a line."

"I didn't think..."

He had already turned back to Annabelle. "And for the sake of argument, let's say it was. What's with the cockblock?"

"It wasn't a cockblock, it was a awful line," she said. "That's all. I just expect better from you. A little more creativity."

"Why?" Durrin asked. "You said it yourself, when you're tall, in shape, you've got a good job, you're mostly normal and—I mean, look at that face. The fucker has a perfect face. Doesn't really matter what you say. Does it?"

"Are you trying to pick him up?" Dominique asked, glancing at Durrin. "Because that did sound like a line."

That had made Stuart laugh. "Maybe one day, Durr. One day."

Without missing a beat, Durrin replied, "You know—" He reached across the table to stroke Stuart's arm in an over-the-top romantic way. "I would make you so very happy." It made the two of them laugh, but Annabelle just stared at the pair of them with an expression of mock horror.

"Please stop."

"You're just angry you'd have to share him," Stuart said to her, now picking up another piece of cantaloupe and popping it into his mouth.

"You know what, I take it all back," she said, looking back down at the Prophet on the table. "You do you, Stu. Go ahead and try to pull her with whatever rubbish lines you want to use—"

"I wasn't trying to—"

"—even though," she said, suddenly looking up as if she'd just recalled something specific, "you had a thing with her sister. You don't find that a little odd?"

"We had one date to Hogsmeade together and I snogged her once at a party," said Stuart, his jovial tone for moments before now gone like a balloon that had lost all of its air. "I wouldn't even call it a thing."

Dominique had no idea what was happening, but for some reason it made for an entertaining breakfast. Perhaps it was because she could remember Victoire being torn up about Stuart—who she had witnessed kissing another girl one night after she had been under the impression that things were going well between them—but it would be interesting to get his perspective.

"So, what would you call it?" Dominique asked.

He stared at her as if he was appraising her, perhaps unsure of how to proceed. With that question, apparently they were now going to discuss this—which he didn't seem particularly interested in doing. He took a short breath and shrugged. "A moment, maybe? Look, your sister was—or rather, is...I don't know, I don't see her much anymore—but she was a great girl.

"Will I admit I fucked that whole thing up?" He glanced at both of his friends before looking back at Dominique. "Absolutely. That was on me. I felt bad about it, but it's not as if she and I were serious. We were just talking. I was drunk—which is never an excuse—but I also wasn't in a place in my life where I was really looking for a girlfriend. I'd just split up with my ex, and we'd been together for three years. That's an eternity when you're a teenager. I was seventeen and single for the first time ever. I only wanted to snog girls and have fun. She wanted more."

Dominique considered that. It made sense. Perfect sense, actually. It rang especially true now that that was exactly how she felt at the moment. She'd only been in a relationship for a few months and she was ready to write off any future relationships and keep everything casual for the rest of time. She couldn't imagine how freeing it must have felt after three years.

"To tell you the truth," she said, still not quite understanding why she was suddenly on Stuart's side, "she and her boyfriend were going to happen at some point anyway. Everyone always said so. You sort of drove them together."

Stuart threw Durrin a very smug look. It was clearly deliberate. "Well, isn't that lovely. See, you can tell your mate he can thank me."

"Don't start," Durrin said, his tone almost a warning. Annabelle had learned forward in her seat, her elbow on the table and her head now resting on her hand. She was glancing back and forth between Durrin and Stuart as if she was anticipating something.

"I'm not starting anything," Stuart said, feigning innocent. "I'm happy she's happy with...what's his face."

"His name's Ted," Dominique said.

Stuart laughed a little to himself. "Yeah, him."

"He knows his name," said Durrin, staring at Stuart.

Dominique felt her face tighten. Something wasn't being said, and although it wasn't her business one way or the other, it vaguely had to do with her sister, and definitely had to do with Ted; she felt she had a right to at least ask. "Do you have something against Ted?"

"Shit…" Durrin said, letting his head fall forward. "Can we not?"

"Other than him being an arsehole," Stuart said bluntly, ignoring Durrin. "No."

Dominique blinked at him, her defenses immediately going up. She had just started to come around on him and now he had to go and say something like that? "Ted? Ted Lupin? What's he done?"

"Let's just say he hates me and I'm not very fond of him. It's mutual."

Her expression twisted even further into confusion. "Because of what happened with Victoire? That was ages ago. That was...you said it yourself, it was barely a thing. I don't even think Victoire cares anymore. Why would he? Why would you?"

"I definitely don't," Stuart said. "But any time I see him, he goes out of his way to be an dick."

"What?!"

"You're not exactly innocent," Durrin said.

"I didn't even know who he was until after he started running his mouth," Stuart said, turning to Annabelle. "You were there that one night at the pub—"

"I remember," she said slowly. "He did seem to want to start something with you."

"Ted!?" Dominique asked, a doubtful laugh escaping her. "Are we talking about the same person? This doesn't sound like him at all."

"And he slept with my ex," Stuart said. "Right after we split up for good. Got right in there."

"Who's your ex?" she asked, doubting very much they were thinking about the same girl. She only knew about the one relationship Stuart had at Hogwarts with an equally attractive and popular girl called Elizabeth Cole; she only knew about them because her sister would talk about them as if they were some sort of goal to aspire to. But that girl wasn't even close to being in Ted's league, so it obviously wasn't her. It had to be someone else.

"Lizzy Cole," Annabelle offered.

"Wait, WHAT?" Dominique snapped, her head absolutely spinning. Ted wanted to start pub fights? Ted slept with Elizabeth Cole—a girl so revered at school that she was still talked about. Ted? Teddy Lupin? He was boring! Yes, he'd landed Victoire, but they'd been childhood friends with a lifetime of history and a shared inner nerd. With Elizabeth there was no possible way. No possible way. If any of this was true, she didn't know Ted at all. He might as well be a stranger. "I don't believe you."

"According to Durrin," Annabelle said, glancing over at him. "It is."

Durrin sighed, looking as if he was being put in a terribly awkward position. "I mean, Ted told me that. I don't think I was supposed to tell him," he gestured to Stuart, "but it came out once night when I'd been drinking."

"I don't…" Dominique stammered. "He's got to be making that up."

"You know him better than we do," Stuart offered. "Maybe he's a shit starter on top of everything else."

"But he's not that either," Dominique said, more confused than ever. "He's Ted. He's...boring. So boring."

"He wasn't lying," Durrin said. "He had no reason to. You know the two of us are friends. I consider him one of my closest—"

"Yeah, we all know," muttered Stuart. "You've got his back every time he comes up, even though—"

"And Stu is my best mate in the world," Durrin added in a louder tone. "We go back to the first day of school when we shared a bloody train compartment. I love you like a brother. I'm not on Ted's side. I'm not choosing sides. Can't I love all my friends? That's all I want to do? I'm so full of love."

Annabelle laughed, and even Stuart smirked before muttering, "You're full of something, alright."

"Does Victoire know?" Dominique asked, still lost in all of this new information. She had to know, right? Ted didn't seem like the type to keep secrets. But at the same time, Dominique was sure that she would have heard something from her sister about this. They pretended not to be as close as they were, but they talked. That was one things they did.

"I think so?" Durrin said. "She and Ted are friends with Liz and Dave. We all hang out sometimes."

"Bit incestuous, if you ask me," Annabelle said. "I remember back when Victoire and Dave dated. Then Lizzy and Lupin hooked up, and now they've all flip flopped partners. No one finds that strange?"

Stuart made a noise that seemed to say he agreed, but also was now standing. His body language seemed to be done with this conversation. "Think I'll pass on a chat about Liz and Dave, so I'm going to go. I'll see you all later." He mustered a polite smile for Dominique. "Nice to properly meet you. Sorry about earlier."

She shrugged. If she were being honest, given all that was said in the last few minutes, she'd already forgotten about that. She was a little too preoccupied to care about some impolite behavior that really wasn't even all that bad. She did worse every day.

"We should get going too," Annabelle said to Dominique. When she checked the clock, she realized she only had ten minutes to report to her pitch assignment. She'd lost track of time and immediately jumped up and started collecting her things.

"Where's the fire?" Durrin asked her, moving at a snail's pace to clean up his own mess.

"She's an Eager Elite," Annabelle reiterated to him. "She can't afford to be late like the rest of us."

Dominique mumbled a quick goodbye, grabbed her broom, and began bustling toward the exit. She had thought she was taking the trek over to pitch nine on her own, but realized that Annabelle was on her heels and keeping up. Given how laissez-faire her attitude had been about this place thus far, Dominique was surprised to see her. She must have sensed this because she randomly said, "I just don't like being late to things. Lateness is a pet peeve I have."

"Hey, I have a question," Dominique said, still striding quickly across the courtyard. "You said something yesterday about people getting moved around to different groups. And that you were dropped down after your first day."

"Yeah, some people will have new groups today."

"How do I know if I'm one of those people?"

"You would have had a notice on your door this morning," Annabelle said, having now caught up. "It would have instructed you to report to another pitch."

Dominique mused on that thought. There hadn't been anything there that she'd seen this morning, though Jack would have gotten to it first. But he would have left it had there been something. Then again, she wasn't even in her original room. Would that have caused an issue? What if it had been posted on the room she was supposed to have shared with Erin? What if those two had found it this morning and neglected to give it to her?

"Trust me, you'll know once you get there if you belong," Annabelle said, stopping once the path forked off into the direction of her assigned pitch. "But hey, good luck. And if I don't see you later, remember you're welcome to come hang out tonight in C Dorm. You really should get out a bit and enjoy yourself. Bring your friends."

Dominique continued walking without stopping, but managed to yell, "Maybe!" behind her before jogging the rest of the way to the pitch. Everyone was gathered in the center—though by everyone, Dominique now only counted five other people including Lynch. The two invitations, the good Durmstrang girl, the not-so-good Durmstrang boy, and Giggleswick. Three people from the day before we gone, including both Beauxbaton boys and the other Durmstrang girl. She'd almost called it perfectly.

"Ah, here we are, right at eight o'clock," said Lynch, taking Dominique in as she approached. "Everyone is here. Terrific." He clapped his hands together. "Now, on day one, I don't really like to learn names since things can change so quickly around here. But by day two, I feel we've settled a bit more, so some proper introductions would be appropriate. A little 'get to know you' before we get started." He smiled first at the large invitation bloke. "You first, young man."

Lynch went down the line one by one. Jere Nieminen was eighteen and from Durmstrang, a six year Seeker. Valentina Ricci, also eighteen but from Beauxbatons and had been a Seeker for five years. The two Durmstrang kids were both seventeen and had been Seeking for three and four years, respectively. Then Giggleswick introduced himself before the attention fell onto her.

"Dominique Weasley. I'm seventeen and I've been a Seeker for four years."

Lynch's smile turned into something more like surprise. He was staring intently at her now. "Weasley?"

She nodded. It was the second time that morning someone had used that tone while saying her last name. She was used to this reaction from strangers, though it had been awhile.

At school, no one was surprised by her famous last name or her connection to one of the most famous families in the wizarding world. She was old news there. Out in the real world, people tended to react as Lynch currently was—curiously and with great interest. Unfortunately for them, her parents weren't one of the more famous sets of Weasleys on that family tree. They weren't a former professional Quidditch player and married to the most famous man in their world; they weren't that man's oldest friends and partners in the great war; they weren't the high ranking Ministry officials; and they weren't even the ones who owned the joke store. She belonged to the most boring and normal part of the Weasley tree.

"You must know Ginny Potter? I remember her as a Weasley before she got married. Back when she was a young, up and coming player like yourself."

"She's my aunt."

"Terrific," he said, his smile wider now. "Lovely woman, your aunt. Played against her for a season before I retired. Seems Quidditch is in your blood."

She returned his smile, watching as he clapped his hands together to refocus the rest of the group. "Right, let's drop our brooms for the moment and get started with some running. Shall we? Nice warm up, I feel."

From beside her, she heard Giggleswick let out a snicker. When she turned to look at him, he was shaking his head. "I sure wish I could name-drop my famous family members to score points. Surprised you managed to keep your mouth shut for a whole day."