It had been a grueling day, but surprisingly not as bad as the day before. While she ran more than she ever had, jumped more, dove more, climbed more, grabbed more, grunted more, and flew more than any other time in her life, it was still just slightly better than the previous day's workout. Perhaps it was because she knew what to anticipate; perhaps it was because she'd done it all the day before and knew she'd survive to tell the tale.

It also helped that she hadn't had to see or work with Sabatino that day. The coaches had all split their time between the next two days in order to offer a more intensive instruction time. They'd spent half the morning with Lynch working on basic exercises and general Seeking strategies, and then the other half with Wagner doing more team building exercises. The afternoon had been entirely reserved for Abreu and working on diving technique on repeat for four and a half hours. While Dominique hadn't managed to get the Snitch from the two spot, she was getting closer and closer. She even swore that she'd caught Abreu smiling at her once or twice, which seemed promising.

"Shame Sabatino's such a git," Ellibit was saying later that evening as she used a towel to pat her hair dry. Dominique had run into her at the showers and the two were now walking back down to their rooms. "My younger brother worshipped him around the time of the World Cup last year. I think he's still a fan."

"Tell him not to meet his heroes," Dominique muttered, reaching her door and pushing it open. "Especially in this case since he's a twat.

"Who's a twat?" Jack asked from inside the room. He was on his bed with his back against the wall; his workbook open across his lap. He hadn't been there when she'd gotten back from her training or before she'd left for a shower, but his wet hair and overall clean appearance said that he'd probably just gotten back from his own.

"Sabatino," Dominique said, throwing all of her discarded and dirty clothes into the laundry bag near the foot of her bed.

"I still can't believe that," he said, scribbling something down in his book before flipping through a few pages. "I remember all that promo for the World Cup and he always came off as such a cool bloke. I was a fan."

She plopped down across from him onto her own bed. "I remember how hard you pulled for Italy when we were there."

He grinned, but didn't look up. "And you and Lou were for Argentina."

"Louis only pulled for Argentina because I told him to," she said, picking up a corner of her blanket and absently fiddling with it. "I had him so confident that he even bet money on the match. Remember that?"

This time, Jack did look up, now grinning wider as he seemed to recall that. "Yeah, but you were right and he won. Something like fifty galleons, I think? That's what he said. Hope he at least bought you something nice."

She laughed dismissively. "Fairly certain he put it right back into his savings. He blew through the rest of his money on shitty souvenirs. For someone who barely enjoys Quidditch, he sure did get caught up in the mania and buy a lot of rubbish. Remember that tacky screaming hat that yelled in support of your team?"

"I still have mine," he said fondly. "Had to bury it in a box and hide it in my closet after it wouldn't stop screaming. But it did eventually shut up."

"I hated those things," she said, throwing him a lazy smile before turning her attention to the brick wall outside of her window. Jack had returned to his work and a silence fell over them, which was nice since neither of them ever felt the need to really fill it. It was so rare to find that with people.

It was strange to think that the World Cup was just a little over a year ago. It seemed a decade ago, and she genuinely felt as if she'd lived an entire life in the time between then and now. A year ago she'd just cut off her hair. She'd never even kissed a boy, let alone had sex—though that would change within a few months. She and Sarah were the closest they'd even been, and Louis wasn't even a factor for Sarah at that point—though he would be within a week or two after they'd returned. He and Jack were equally as close then, though just like she and Sarah, their relationship had now changed. Victoire and Ted would have just gotten together; now they felt practically married. It almost felt as if the World Cup was where she could draw a line on the before and after of her adolescence. It felt as if things that came before were a much younger and more innocent time.

She picked up her wand to start charming her hair dry when there was a sudden knock on their door. She and Jack exchanged a look, both assuming the other must have known who was there. When neither offered up anything, Jack called out, "It's open."

"Hello?" came Zara's voice before the rest of her came into view. She was dressed up—in a dress with her hair and makeup neatly done. She looked perfectly put together just as she always did at school, though Dominique was a little confused as to why. Why would she even pack a dress to come here? Were they supposed to do that?

"You look nice," Jack said, his face showing the curiosity that Dominique currently felt. "Big plans?"

Zara grinned in a dismissive way, as if she was so used to that comment it was almost a bother. "I mean, sort of. I'm going out. But I've come to tell you that you are as well."

He stared at her. That was apparently news to him. "Am I?" He looked back at Dominique, who just shrugged at him.

"You are, so get dressed," she said, her tone bossy. "You can do this—" she gestured to his workbook, "later. You're not sitting around tonight."

"Where are you going?" Dominique asked, feeling annoyed by Zara's general nature and also because she hadn't been extended an invitation to go out. Was she invisible? And where did Zara come off thinking she and Jack were the kind of friends that she could make demands of? They barely ever spoke to each other outside of a Quidditch pitch.

"I think we're starting at C Dorm," she said. "But we'll see where we end up." She looked back at Jack, who hadn't budged. "You're coming whether you want to or not. But I think you'll want to because I've gone and done you a favor."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

She walked further into their room and took a seat on the edge of Dominique's bed, which Dominique found to be a bit brazen. "I went and chatted up your cute little French friend over lunch today. We were in the same group yesterday, but she'd been dropped down one below, so it was the first chance I had. You came up." She smiled. "She had some questions and I had some answers."

Dominique pulled a face. What answers could she possibly have? They barely knew each other. Zara didn't seem to notice or care since she couldn't be bothered to pay attention to anything other than Jack right then. It was clear she'd said all the right things to pique his interest.

"Really?" he asked.

Zara nodded while Dominique rolled her eyes. "I made you sound fantastic. Told her you were really nice and everyone always said so. I've only ever known you to be a great guy, so you're not that shit type. You're the best Beater in school. That sort of thing. "

"I had no idea you thought so highly of me."

She waved him off. "Don't go getting a big head. I was being a nice person and trying to make a little connection in the world. Anyway, I told her she could meet us tonight and that I'd be sure to bring you along. She seemed keen. Play your cards right and..." She gave him a knowing smile.

Dominique felt her nose wrinkle involuntarily, but Jack snapped his workbook shut. She could already tell by looking at him that he'd been sold on this idea, much to her annoyance. "Yeah. Alright. Why not?"

Zara clapped a few times in a triumphant way before standing. "Excellent. Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?"

He nodded while muttering, "Yeah, yeah," in a lazy manner. He stood and grabbed his bag. It was while he was searching through it for clothes to presumably change into that he glanced over at Dominique. "Are you coming?"

She forced her face to remain reactionless, when in reality she wanted to sneer at the both of them for suddenly remembering she was even in the room. "No, thanks."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "What do you mean? What do you have to do?"

"I don't know. Anything other than having to listen to you 'Ummmm…' and 'Yeeeah...' and 'Cool...' your way into some feeble attempt at getting a handjob by night's end."

Zara turned to stare at her a little wild eyed, though Jack snorted a laugh before going back to what he was doing. "Shut it. You're coming out."

"No, I'm not." She gestured to Zara. "I didn't pack a single item of clothing that I didn't plan on sweating through or sleeping in."

Zara looked her up and down. "Is that really any different from your everyday, though?"

She didn't even try to hide her sneer that time.

"I didn't mean—" she said, holding up her hands in a sort of mock surrender. "I wasn't trying to be rude, I'm only saying, what's the difference? You dress like that all the time. I could offer to loan you something and you still wouldn't wear it. It's not your thing."

"Yeah, fuck it, who cares?" Jack said. "Wear whatever you want."

Dominique rolled her eyes again and began absently drying her hair with her wand. She wasn't sure which had made her feel worse—having not been included or now being included. She'd only wanted to be invited so she could decline and go back to doing whatever else there was to do.

"Either way, come or don't. We leave in less than fifteen minutes," Zara said, throwing Dominique a nod before turning toward the door and letting herself out. She let it close dully behind her.

Jack rounded back on her. "So, you're coming."

"You can fuck right off," she said, reaching her wand behind her head to grab the longest parts of her hair to dry.

"Yeah. I'll get on that, but you're still coming." He pulled a shirt out of his bag that Dominique would have considered too nice to work out in, but too casual to dress up in. It was still nicer than anything she'd packed. Why had no one told her to pack decent clothes?

"You actually packed nice clothes?!"

"It's a t-shirt," he said, holding it up to her. "I wouldn't wear it to a ball or anything. And anyway, who cares? Wear what you want. It's never stopped you before."

"I'm not saying I want to look like I'm going to a ball," she muttered, moving on the last part of her hair that was still wet. "But I'd like to not look as if I'm going to practice."

"But who cares?" he asked, back to digging around in his bag. "Some girls dress up and, sure, they look good, but you…" He stopped.

She abruptly dropped the piece of hair she'd been drying to now stare at him. But she what? She couldn't compare so she shouldn't? She'd never given a shit in the past, so she wasn't allowed to care now? "I what?"

"Forget it."

"No, say it." She flipped her wand around at him, now mockingly threatening him. "I what?"

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Curse you if you don't answer the bloody question."

His eyes drifted back up to her face. He seemed to be wondering what was happening here. She flicked her wand in a beckoning manner, urging him to speak.

"You," he said finally—and fairly begrudgingly, "I was only going to say that you don't need to. So many of them do it to get attention from blokes and other girls, but you've never been that person. And even if you were that person and decided you wanted all eyes on you, you'd figure out pretty quickly that you could wear a potato sack and still be better looking than all the rest of them. So, who cares?" He turned away at that, picking up the shirt he'd placed beside him earlier.

Her wand went slack in her hand; the tip of it falling dully into her lap. That hadn't been at all what she'd thought he was going to say; he'd gone in a totally different direction. A direction that was taking her longer than a moment to process. She felt her face getting a little warm.

"Happy to see that didn't get me stunned," he said.

"Huh?" she asked, blinking a couple of times.

"Your wand," he gestured to it. "You were about to…Wait, what did you think I was going to say?"

"I don't know." She picked it up again and returned to her final piece of hair. She suddenly felt the need to keep herself busy.

"So, are you coming out tonight or not?" he asked, now absently taking his shirt off right there. Well, that was...This was not...Bloody fucking hell...

She looked away and made a point to focus intently on her hair then, even though it was well past dry. "You are really pushing this," she said, finally looking back at him once he had pulled his shirt down.

"What can I say? I like having you around."

She silently watched him as he continued to pull some sort of outfit together. The fact that he wanted her to come, while going to try and pick up another girl was altogether a clusterfuck in her head at the moment. Here she was, realizing that her latent, drunk crush on him seemed to have grown into something more, and yet here he was pulling her in and out of this weird friendship box they'd created. How was it even possible to tell someone you found them to be the best looking person in a room and that you liked having them around, but in the next you were headed out the door to meet another girl? How did that even make sense?

She had spent most of her adolescence ignoring these games that boys and girls played with one another. Her friends were obsessed with them, but up until Henry, she'd never cared or tried. She minded her own business and her world had been easy. But now she was out there and apparently involved in game playing, but none of it made sense. The rules were unclear; the players were inconsistent. There was no way to tell whether you were truly winning or losing. How did people do this to themselves?

With a heavy sigh, she looked back out the window. "It doesn't make much sense to come with you considering you've got things to see and people to do."

"Very funny," he said. "But I honestly think you need to get out and have some fun. You've been through a shitty couple weeks, so let's get out. Didn't you say Annabelle was over in C Dorm? That she was trying to get you over there?"

That was true. When Jack started to annoy her with this girl, she could go find Annabelle or Durrin and show them that she had it in her to get out and have a little fun. There was no harm in going out and getting a drink, talking to some people, and then coming back here after a bit. She clearly needed to get out of her own head for a bit.

"Fine," she muttered loudly. "But I still don't know what I'm going to wear. All of my potato sacks are dirty."

A few minutes later, once Jack had told her he'd wait for her in the common area, she managed to throw together a pair of black leggings with a white t-shirt and her trainers—the best she could really do. On the plus side, if she did happen to come back to the room and pass right out, she'd be dressed for practice in the morning. One less thing she'd have to do.

She'd left her hair down, which to her was essentially the equivalent of styling it, put on deodorant, and brushed her teeth. All in all, it took about four minutes to get ready, and half of that had been the walk to the sink and back.

As she headed down the corridor, the door to Zara and Erin's room opened and they both appeared. Zara still dressed to the nines while Erin— Dominique was happy to see—less so. She was in normal clothes and also had trainers on. She was wearing makeup and her hair was definitely more done than usual, but nothing particularly noticeable. She would have looked out of place at a ball as much as she did.

"You decided to come," Zara said, taking one look at her and smiling. "And you look...acceptable."

"Best I could do," she said, glancing at Erin. "Wasn't aware that I needed to pack for cocktail hour."

"Don't go by this one," she said, gesturing to Zara. "She can't help it. Finds an excuse to dress up for the opening of an envelope."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to look your best and taking every opportunity to do so," Zara said matter of factly, now staring intently at Dominique's face. "You need something."

"Sorry?"

She turned to Erin. "She needs something, right?"

Erin hummed in agreement. "She does.

Zara turned on the spot, holding up her finger to signal for one moment as she made her way back to her room. "Stay there. Don't move."

As she disappeared inside, Dominique's expression begged Erin to perhaps fill her in on what was happening. Erin, in turn, just smirked back at her, turning quickly once Zara returned in the next moment.

"Here we go," she said, holding up a small little cylinder. She immediately pulled the cap off and handed it to Dominique. "With your coloring, that'll be nice on you. It'll elevate this," she gestured to her clothes, "look of yours from a little less day to a little more night."

Dominique stared at it, realizing that it was lipstick. A reddish, pinkish colored lipstick. She knew what it was, but she'd never a day in her life applied the stuff. Even when her mother had made her dress up for special occasions during the most hardcore of her tomboy days, she'd only ever insisted on nice robes and brushed hair. Make-up had always been a hard no. "You want me to…?"

Zara nodded. "Yeah, hurry up. We're already running behind."

"If you need a mirror..." Erin said, nudging Zara to check her purse. She did just that and pulled out a small compact that she held that out for her to take.

Dominique stared at it. She wasn't even intimidated, she was just completely baffled—and almost amused—by what was happening right now. "I'm not going to lie, I wouldn't even know what to do with that."

Both Erin and Zara seemed confused by the question. Clearly Dominique being completely ignorant on the ins and outs of make-up hadn't even occurred to them.

"It opens normally." Zara flipped the compact open and held it up for her.

She had to laugh a little now. "Or this," she said, holding up the lipstick. "I don't wear make-up."

"We're aware you don't wear it."

"But you do know how to—?"

Dominique shook her head.

"You never tried when you were small?"

"Especially not when I was small."

"Not with your friends for a laugh?"

"Sounds like a nightmare, honestly."

"I know your sister wears make-up," Zara said. "She's never tried to—?"

"Oh, she's tried. And failed. Every time. Completely gave up on me."

Both girls exchanged looks. Dominique already knew what they were thinking. She'd gotten that look a hundred times before in her life—always the same.

"You never cease to surprise me in every possible way," Zara said, though Dominique wasn't sure if that was to be taken as a genuine observation or an insult. She didn't have much time to dwell on it, because Zara was now pointing the lipstick at her as if she was planning to apply to her herself. "You need to trust me when I tell you this will look great on you. And you should let me do it."

She hesitated, staring at the little cylinder. This seemed like such a stupid things to actually be having this conversation about. "I…"

"I just bloody lipstick," Erin said sharply. "She's not giving you a tattoo. If you don't like it, wash it off."

"Fuck, fine!" Dominique spat, feeling oddly off her guard tonight. "If it'll get you off my case just...I don't know. Whatever."

Zara didn't even delay a second. She stepped right up to her and grabbed her face. She made her make her lips move into a few strange positions as applied the stuff, standing back almost as quickly as she'd closed in. With a nod and a smile, she seemed happy with her work. She glanced at Erin, who also gave her a nod of approval.

"Want to see?" Zara asked, already reaching back into her purse.

"Not really, no."

"It looks good," Erin said. "Swear it does."

"I'll take your word for it," she said, wanting more than ever to now move on. This night was already starting out in the strangest possible way. Perhaps she should turn around now and go back. Maybe it was an omen.

"Shit, we're so late," Zara muttered, now stepping around Dominique and heading down the corridor toward the common area. "They all better be ready to go. I'm not waiting another minute."

Erin followed after her and Dominique lagged behind for a brief moment. She took a deep breath as she reached up and barely tapped her lips. When she looked down at her fingertips, there was a trace of the reddish pink color there. She stared at it for a long moment before realizing that Zara and Erin were long gone.

When she reached the common area, a small group had already gathered; some she knew and some she didn't. Zara was in the middle of talking to some boy that was complaining they were late. He seemed like a loser, but that wasn't any of Dominique's concern. Zara was now ushering him and the other two strangers out the door, which just so happened to be where Ansel and Jack were standing and chatting.

"I thought I had ten minutes," Jack said to Zara as she passed him.

"Take it up with your partner in crime over there," Zara mumbled, blowing through the doorway. "Got held up doing her a favor. But we're leaving now, so don't dawdle."

Jack turned around to look for her, but she immediately looked down and avoided his gaze. She rolled her shoulders forward and let her posture slack as much as possible once everyone passed to exit.

"That's not a potato sack," he joked, holding the door for her and letting her pass. "Did Zara loan you something? She said something about doing you a favor."

"No, I pulled this out on my own," she said walking ahead of him. "And I'd call it less of a favor and more of a coercion."

"What'd she—?""

She turned and let him get his first good look at her face.

His jaw actually dropped. Her gut reaction was to hit him, but she didn't. Instead, she turned away and immediately started walking faster.

"Wait. Hold on. I was shocked. It looks nice."

"Piss off."

"I can still remember Sarah and Natalie literally begging you to let them, but you let Zara?"

"Piss off."

"And there was that time you punched Victoire in the tits when she tried to sneak up on you and put some on you."

That made her stop in her tracks. That memory had been long forgotten but had now dislodged itself at his mention. She could almost hear her sister screaming for their parents in order to tattletale on her, which made her laugh then and also now. "I'd forgotten about that. That was ages ago."

"Yeah, I think we were about twelve. Lou and I watched the whole thing from the top of your stairs."

"She deserved it," she added, walking again though slowing her pace as they followed the path past Dorm B. "And she's never tried to sneak up on me again."

Despite the pair lagging behind the rest of the group, they managed to catch up upon reaching their final destination—Dorm C. All the dormitories were identical in shape and size, though even standing just beyond the entrance, Dominique already knew this one was different from the one she'd been assigned. People were already filing in and out of the double doors and the energy from inside was already palpable. She was also happy to see that Zara seemed to be the exception to the rule, not the standard. Most people were dressed casually at best. There were women with their hair and makeup done, but also in trousers or leggings, tanks and blouses. One or two were even in pajamas. Some guys had brought button downs, but the majority were in t-shirts and jeans. People in robes were even walking about, though Dominique felt it was too hot for that. She'd never understood the old world way of thinking that you should always be in robes.

She made her way inside and immediately was met with the exact same layout as her dormitory, only much busier. There were already far more people crowded into the room, and the table and chairs were pushed into all sorts of directions. There were people yelling loudly and cheering in one corner of the room, though she couldn't see what they were doing; on the opposite side, a card game of some kind was taking place. It's participants seemed more subdued, until someone apparently pulled some sort of move, causing the whole table to erupt into a mixture of laughter and jeering. One big guy threw his card across the table in a fit.

People were standing around talking everywhere—in every available space and down the corridor on the first floor. She could just make out the scene down the hallway and see that almost every room door was open and people were filing in and out of them at will. It seemed the activities stretched down the length of the entire first floor.

Jack tugged on her sleeve, urging her to follow him. She'd already lost sight of anyone else she knew. The room felt hot and crowded and she was already unsure as to how anyone could stay here for long without feeling squished. Her anxiety was already bubbling up just at the sheer amount of bodies compiled into one space.

Jack had pulled her off in the direction of a corridor, where there she saw Zara and Erin already chatting up some new people that hadn't been in their initial group. She watched as Jack leaned in to ask Zara a question, though in the loudness of the place she had no idea what it was. She answered him, then pointed to a nearby room. With that, he looked back at Dominique and made a "be right back" gesture.

Great, she thought. She'd hoped she'd have at least got her bearings on the place before being completely abandoned. She placed herself up against a wall and began people-watching; immediately deciding to guess each person's position based on their physical characteristics.

Erin and Zara were still nearby, talking to some tall blokes who Dominique had pegged as Keepers with maybe a Beater or two thrown in. At the card game, she recognized one of the girls as a Seeker, but assumed the rest of them were Chasers—minus the biggest guy in the room, who could probably bench press her over his head—he had to be a Beater. A couple walked by, hand in hand—Chasers. A group of drunk men chanting something loudly—a mixed bag of all the positions, but their leader was a Beater she'd bet. Two petite girls, one of whom was crying and the other consoling, she'd bet they were Chasers. She could do this all night.

Jack reappeared and immediately handed her a beer bottle. He had his own and was already drinking from it, scanning the room absently. She looked down to see he'd already opened it. She held it up to him. "Cheers."

He held his cup up as well to mimic her, "Cheers."

"Where's the girl?" she asked. "I assumed she'd be here."

"Dunno," he said. "Zara said she told them here at a certain time, but we were late. Maybe they left."

"We were only about ten minutes late," Dominique mumbled. "If they can't wait ten minutes—?" She stopped when she noticed Durrin no more than ten feet away, having emerged from the corridor into the common area. He also had a drink in his hand and looked to be headed somewhere. She called out his name to get his attention and he stopped and looked directly at them. An immediate grin appeared. He seemed especially happy once he noticed Jack.

"How it's going!?" he said, immediately filling the gap between them and dodging a drunk girl who was stumbling back to the rooms. He went to hug Jack before stepping back to look him up and down. "Merlin's beard, what the hell have you been doing? And can you show me?"

"Putting in a little work here and there," he said modestly

"'Here and there' is code for every morning at dawn," said Dominique.

Durrin pulled a face. "Nope. Sorry. Fuck that. I can barely commit to shaving every day, let alone that." He smiled again at Jack. "Great to see you though, mate. Really. Both of you." He looked back and forth at the two of them. "But hey, things are going well at school? Heard last season was a bit of a bust."

"We don't really talk about last season," Jack muttered as he and Dominique exchanged quick glances.

"It was a rebuilding year," Durrin said with a wave of his hand. "You lost your fearless leader and one hell of a Keeper. Hard to fix that right away." He took a drink. "I've heard the new Keeper needs some work."

Dominique said nothing, knowing Jack was already going to side-eye her since Kenley was always their biggest point of contention. However, when he wasn't looking, she nodded fiercely so that only Durrin could see.

"What can I say, Durr?" Jack said, raising his bottle to him. "Hard to replace you."

"Too right," he said, raising his drink as well before glancing behind him. "Hey, hold on. Annabelle's going to want to see that you've actually come out tonight. I'm not sure where's gone off too, but—"

He walked away mid-sentence. What he was saying or where he was going was now a mystery. Dominique and Jack looked at each other, both unsure as to what that had been about, though Jack did say, "I miss him.'

"I miss him, too," she said, noticing that Zara had appeared in her peripherals and was coming closer. She stopped right before them, her attention on Jack.

"Here you are," she said before more people appeared to have followed her over. It was Vanessa and some of her friends, including the one petite girl she'd been with at orientation, as well as Gabriel from the Seeker group. There was another one, but Dominique was already overwhelmed by how many people were now crowding her once comfortable spot.

"Told you he'd come," Zara added, a wide smile on her face. "I've done my part. Have fun." And just like that, she'd turned and walked way

Everyone looked a bit uncomfortable given how ridiculous that set up had been. There was an exchange of anxious smiles and polite hellos, and Dominique wanted to peel away from it all since she could barely handle the awkwardness. Unfortunately, she was now pinned back against the wall by the French group.

"Your friend is very…" Vanessa began as she looked to where Zara had vanished off to, "direct."

"Would you believe we're not even really friends?" Jack said, still looking a bit surprised. "We really don't even know each other that well."

"Could have fooled me," Dominique mumbled, glancing from one French kid to the next. Gabriel and the other boy were watching the room, presumably looking for somewhere else to be. The other girl, whose name Dominique couldn't remember, was sizing Jack up carefully. She seemed like the type that wasn't going to abandon her friend around a strange new person. Good friend, but not exactly subtle in her actions.

Dominique was also pleased to see that both of the girls were dressed casually. Vanessa even had trainers on, which gave her a few points in her book. She had a sweet demeanor about her and a very friendly smile. Cute would be the word she'd use to describe her if she had to, though as she stood there now taking her in, she didn't really quite understand why she bothered to formulate an opinion on her. This was, at best, a three day adventure for Jack, not a real prospect. By the time she'd even formed a real opinion of her, they'd be headed back to France and she and Jack back home. She might as well forget her name now as far as she was concerned.

"You remember my friend, Chloe?" Vanessa said, glancing from Jack to Dominique as she gestured to her. Chloe smiled before Vanessa gestured to the boys—neither of whom were paying attention. "And that's Gabriel and Leo."

Jack nodded before pointing to Dominique. "I think you all met already, but this is Nic."

"Dominique," Chloe said. "I remember. The girl who speaks French."

Dominique forced a dry smile. While Vanessa came off as sweet, this one didn't. She was looking at her in a way that—quite frankly—Dominique tended to look at people. It was a mixture of annoyance at their presence and lack of interest in them being there. She was the master of that look.

"Sorry, yeah," Jack said. "I call her Nic." He looked back at Vanessa. "You want a drink? I can get you one."

"I can come with you," she offered, and Dominique noticed she wouldn't stop smiling at him. She wanted to roll her eyes. It was probably better they did run off for drinks because she wasn't sure how much more of this she could watch.

"You two go," Chloe said, ushering them along and throwing Vanessa a smile. "Bring me back something, I'll wait here."

"You want something, Nic?" Jack asked.

She shook her head, having only drank a little of her beer. She was taking it easy and planning to be back in their dorm room within the next hour. She watched as the two of them left, while the boys they'd brought with them followed once they'd heard they were headed to get drinks. When she turned back, she caught Chloe inspecting her.

"So," she said, "my friend really likes yours."

Dominique shrugged. "That's nice."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm always a little suspect when a boy and a girl are really good friends."

"Good thing it's her and not you trying to chat up my friend, then."

She made a small noise, seemingly unsure as to what to make of that. "I suppose I don't see the point in having friends of the opposite sex get that close. If you're willing to go that far, why not take it all the way?"

"You don't have any close male friends?" she asked. "Who were those boys you brought?"

"Gabe and Leo? We're in the same house. That's all."

"Jack and I are in the same house, too."

She looked skeptical. "You're very clearly friends."

"We are. But I was commenting on the fact that we're in the same house. I thought that's what we were talking about?"

She made a laughing sort of noise, but it didn't sound amused. "So, are you the gatekeeper for him? Checking Vanessa and making sure she's good enough?"

This chick was going deep. It really wasn't that big of a deal. "Good enough for what? If we're being honest, I haven't really formed much of an opinion on her, or you, or any of it because in a few days this-" She made a gesture around the room, "will be over. You and her will go back to your school, me and him will go back to ours, and life will go on." She forced a smile that she was sure would be perceived as bitchy. "I don't really care who he gets to blow him. That's on him."

Chloe clearly hadn't expected that answer, though oddly enough, instead of putting her off or shutting her up, it seemed to pull her in. She smiled—and it was genuine amusement, not the cold and bitchy kind.

"If that's what he's looking for," she said, "he might be a bit disappointed. Vanessa's not the type to jump right into that. She's a good girl."

"Yeah, we all are until we're not," Dominique offered.

Chloe began to laugh. Why did it suddenly feel like things were warming between them? Had she said something to give her that impression? She hadn't meant to. Maybe she was getting soft.

"Isn't that the truth," she said before a stilted silence fell between them. Dominique drank some of her beer, wondering where exactly everyone had gone off to and what was taking so long. But of course she already knew the answer.

"For the record," Dominique finally said, choosing to fill the silence. "Jack's a really good guy also. I don't really think he's expecting anything. But, you know..."

"I get it."

She nodded. "Glad the terms of our friend' sex life have been properly discussed. I've spent more time talking about him getting shagged than myself."

Chloe grinned and glanced around the room. She also apparently was wondering where they'd disappeared off to. Perhaps she hadn't quite realized she'd been ditched yet. She eventually turned back to her. "I like your lipstick. It's a great color."

"Thanks..."

"It's a shame you went to Hogwarts. Had you gone to Beauxbatons, we probably would have been friends."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you actually knew me."