She took a heaving breath and turned away. She couldn't watch that anymore. She wasn't even sure where to go or what to do, but she'd found herself returning to where Durrin and Stuart were still talking. Durrin seemed to have moved on from his run in with Annabelle, seeing as the mood was now pleasant and casual—or at least it was before he noticed her face.
"You look like you're about to be ill," he said, watching her as she approached. "Did you drink too much?"
"Actually, not enough," she said, feeling herself shake a bit. She needed to pull herself together. If Jack hadn't been standing so close to the exit, she would have already left. Instead, she felt trapped.
"I'm going to get something," Stuart said, pointing toward where the drinks were. "Do you want something? I'll grab it."
She nodded, more for something to do since she was barely listening. She heard Durrin speak, and it took her several moments to realize that he was staring at her. Stuart had already gone.
"What's the matter?"
She wanted to tell him that nothing was wrong; to push away the question and pretend he'd never asked it. She wanted to tell him to mind his business and change the subject to anything else in the world. But instead, her words took control before she could think better of it. "I had to see the guy I fancy wrapped up with another girl."
Durrin's expression was sympathetic and said that he understood. He probably did. Everyone but her had probably experienced something like this before, and they'd probably been a lot younger when they had. She suddenly felt inexperienced.
"That's shit," he said, his voice quiet as he let silence fill between them. At least it had been quiet until he quite suddenly exclaimed, "Wait? Jack?"
"Yeah," she said, again her words somehow beating her brain. Why was she telling him this? She needed to stop talking.
"No kidding? That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever heard."
"Piss off."
"I'm serious," he said, now smiling in a stupid way. "I'm into the idea of you two. My two little third-years. That warms my cold, dead heart."
"Did you miss the part where he's with another girl?"
"What happens here, stays here," he said, almost laughing. "Don't let that shit get you down. Have you talked to him? Told him how you feel?"
"No!" she yelled. A cold chill ran through her as she suddenly realized that, unlike Annabelle and Felicity, Durrin knew Jack and knew him well. They were friends and talked. Her stupid lack of filter could have just cost her a lot. This was why she shouldn't have walked back into this party; so much for Annabelle protecting her. "You can't say anything to him either, or so help me I will murder you! Fact."
"That seems extreme," he said, still with the stupid smile.
Another thought then hit her. He was friends with Ted and Victoire and Whit. He could tell them. Shit, if her sister found out...if Whit found out. Telling Durrin was probably worse than telling Jack. He could do far more damage.
"Shit, Durrin," she said, now panicked. "Seriously you cannot tell anyone. This is not information I'm ready to share."
"Who am I going to tell?"
"My sister. Ted. Whit. Anyone I go to school with."
"Oh, right, I guess I do know a lot of the people you know," he said, seemingly amused. "I still don't see why it's a big secret, but if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty drunk. I probably won't remember much of this tomorrow."
She wished more than ever that she could practice some memory charms. Not that it would matter, she was never very good at them.
Stuart had returned carrying several bottles of beer. He handed one to Durrin and one to her, which she took without thanking him and began to drink very quickly. She knew it wouldn't help her rattled nerves, but perhaps she could drink her embarrassment away; get to a point where she didn't care.
"Is that why you're trying to find a fuck buddy?" Durrin asked, swigging from his beer. "You're trying to distract yourself from Ja—?"
"That," she said abruptly, cutting him off as he spoke, "and I'm trying to rebound from my ex."
"Ah, yes, the famous Henry Davies."
"I still can't believe you went out with him," Stuart muttered. "I mean, he and I always got on, but he can be a real arsehole."
"Some would say the same thing about you," she said, looking him up and down. "My sister, probably. Ted, evidently. Most of my sister's friends. I'm actually still on the fence."
Both of the boys looked surprised by the random ferocity of her comment. Stuart shook his head, almost as if physically reacting to the verbal smack. Durrin was glancing back and forth between the two of them. "Well, shit. She told you."
"You really don't like me, do you?" Stuart asked.
She shrugged. "Believe it or not, I like you more than I did yesterday."
"You must have really not liked me yesterday."
"I'm sure you won't lose any sleep over it," she offered as she found herself grinning.
"Anyway," Durrin said immediately, trying to change the subject. "Where's the rest of the Hogwarts' crew? Can't only be you and Jack here, but I haven't seen anyone else."
She shrugged again. "Who knows? I don't think it'll surprise you to find out that I'm not exactly friends with any of them."
"Can't imagine why," Stuart mumbled.
She threw him a look, but ignored him and continued on with Durrin. "You remember how I can be, especially on the Quidditch pitch."
"I remember the fights, but I'd hoped most of that stayed on the pitch. We fought all the time, but I never disliked you. You were just a pain in my arse. I'd make you go fly laps when you really annoyed me."
"I probably flew hundreds of miles."
"Can't say you aren't well traveled."
Stuart cleared his throat. "Have you ever stopped to wonder if maybe it's you?"
She didn't even pretend to be offended by that. "I know I've made some enemies. I don't care. I'm not out there to make friends."
Durrin hummed, swigging from his drink again. "But you have made a few. You've clearly got Jack. As long as you've got someone out there on the pitch, you're doing alright."
"He's the exception," she said. "And we've had our ups and downs as well, but he's Jack. You know how he is. He gets along with everyone far better than I do."
"He does," Durrin said, shifting his drink from one hand to the other. "It's why I pushed for him to be captain. People like him. They listen to him."
For the second time in several minutes, she suddenly felt as if her senses had been flooded by an overwhelming feeling of discomfort. It was as if something in her chest decided to twist in that moment; that awful sinking feeling one gets when news has been confirmed. Even if she already knew it was the case, hearing those words come from Durrin's mouth felt like a knock to the gut.
She had moved past Jack getting captain, but to hear that the reason she didn't get to live her dream was because of a person—the person standing in front of her—decided that? That was a blow. Worst yet, the cavalier manner in which he'd said it made her realize that she'd never been considered. Jack had always been the choice.
She went to take a long gulp of her drink, but noticed there wasn't anything else left. She cleared her throat. "You pushed for Jack, then?"
Durrin was absently watching the card game again, having no idea that he'd sent her into a tailspin. "Sorry? Did I push for Jack? For captain? Yeah, of course."
She avoided eye contact with him now, not quite sure why this bothered her so much. She'd made peace with this. She couldn't let it keep coming up and hurting her. Why had she somehow convinced herself that Durrin had only been partially responsible instead of mostly? It was as if she'd led herself to believe that he was torn between the two choices; that it had been more of a 50/50 situation and that it had been Longbottom who'd ultimately chosen. She and Durrin had often butted heads, but she knew he respected her as an athlete and a teammate. He'd always said so.
"I'd thought it was maybe Longbottom," she said.
At that moment, something seemed to dawn on him. His expression was telling, and he was clearly trying to figure out if he'd said something he shouldn't have. "He had the final say. But he asked for my opinion."
She couldn't look at him. Stuart was standing there observing, having been silent the last minute or so. Perhaps even he sensed he shouldn't touch this one. She needed to get out of there. This topic mixed with how fucked up she felt did not bode well for her.
"Nicki," Durrin said, his tone almost consoling. She felt somewhat childlike at that moment, and she hated it.
"It's fine," she said. "You did what you had to do."
"Are you upset about this?" he asked. "I'm actually wondering why this is even a surprise. You said yourself, you don't get along with anyone."
"I got along with my own team," she countered before adding, "most of the time."
"I'd have never thought you would have—"
"Wanted to be captain?"
He glanced over at Stuart before looking back at her. "Thought you'd be a good one."
That really had felt like a punch in the stomach. She didn't even know what to say to that. It was as if she'd been petrified to the spot again, just like the day in Hogsmeade with Giggleswick.
"Let's say I did go out on a limb for you," he said. "You know Longbottom wasn't going to choose you over Jack, right? You got how many detentions for flying off the handle, both literally and figuratively? You got suspended from matches. You assaulted someone in front of an arena full of people."
"Everyone saw that," Stuart added.
"And as great as it was, as much as he deserved it, there was nothing I could have done to salvage that."
She clenched her jaw. Her high had definitely worn off because she was able to restrain herself now. It was definitely time for her to go. She was officially done with this night.
"I still think you're a bang up Seeker," Durrin said. "I wouldn't have traded you for the world. Even with all the added drama and hundreds of warnings we got. I wouldn't have."
Her smile was forced once again, though she still wouldn't look either of them in the eyes. "I need to go."
"Wait? Why?"
She sidestepped them both and pushed herself through the crowd and out the front door. Outside the air was cool and dry and the night sky was full of clouds blocking any trace of the stars or the moon. People were standing around talking, laughing, having a terrific time it seemed. She hated every single one of them.
She stopped to look up and down the paths that led to the various dorms, feeling slightly turned around. Was left to the Dorm A or was it right? There was music coming from the right, so that had to be one of the rowdier dorms. Dorm A would probably be in the quieter direction.
"Dominique," came a voice that was followed by a tap on the shoulder.
When she turned, she was entirely surprised to see Stuart standing there. She looked him up and down, wondering why he felt the need to follow her.
"I wanted to make sure you were ok," he said, seemingly sincere. "I don't know what Durrin said to upset you, but he's always speaking first and thinking second, and…" He shrugged. "You can ask Annabelle. He does it to her all the time. Anyway, I feel the need to apologize for him from time to time. You wouldn't be the first person I've done it for." He shrugged. "You won't be the last."
She stared at him. "I know Durrin well enough to know how he can be. I'm not angry. I'm just tired and ready to go." She pointed to the left. "Dorm A is that way, right?"
"Yeah, it is." He nodded and pointed just as she had. "You want me to show you?"
"Didn't you just do that?"
He laughed a little awkwardly. "I meant, I'd walk with you. If you wanted."
She continued to stare at him. She'd set herself up for this, letting him fall right into that typical protector response. It was late at night, lots of drunk people about, she was a small girl attempting to go off alone into the dark—she naturally needed an escort. She didn't see why he cared, considering she'd spent most of their interactions insulting him, but some blokes couldn't resist an opportunity to be the hero. That or he was a glutton for punishment.
She reached out and pulled out her wand, holding it up for him to see. "I can manage. But thanks."
"I was headed that way anyway."
"For what?"
"Canteen. Fancy a snack."
Nice save. He was quick. She sighed. If he was that determined to not let her walk alone in the dark, then fuck it. Her parents had always warned her against being out in unfamiliar places on her own after dark, she might as well. Though, if he thought that this was her opening up an invitation for anything more, he was mistaken. He may have been handsome and had all of Hogwarts swooning at one point, but she'd never bought into it before; she wasn't now. She kept her wand out at her side and knew that even when she was fucked up, she could still aim well enough.
"Fine. Come on, then," she said lazily, turning down the path without waiting for him. He caught up easily, which wasn't surprising since his strides were considerably longer than hers. They didn't speak at first; instead, she chose to do the calculation in her head as to how long it would take to get from where they currently were to the front door Dorm A. She deduced it would roughly take about five minutes if they stayed on the same pace.
"So, if you're not angry with Durrin, why go back so early?" he finally asked.
"Is it early? It's got to be nearly midnight."
"Most people around here don't turn in until at least two."
She laughed that off. "No, thanks. Some of us are trying to achieve a decent ranking."
"Are you actually looking to play Quidditch someday? Professionally, I mean."
She finally turned to look at him, her face screwed up to let him know that was a dumb question. "Obviously. Why else would I be here?'
He shrugged. "I've come twice now and I've never thought about it. I've wanted to go into law since I took my O.W.L.s. This has always been something to do for fun."
"Well, you were never that great of a Chaser, so I can understand that."
She could feel him straighten up beside her. She had to assume that he was probably regretting his decision to walk her about now. "You think so, huh?"
"I know so," she said cooly, as if she were commenting on the weather and not his entire legacy as a Chaser. "You were fine, but you always flew too wide and took up too much space. You need to stay in your lane."
"Wow." He had laughed a little, but ultimately seemed a little lost for words. "I'm flattered you paid enough attention to notice."
She rolled her eyes. "I notice everything. I'm a Seeker, that's my job. You always flew too wide. Then the rest of your Chasing team—well, Thorpe was too obsessed with tricks and that slowed him down and made him sloppy. And Davies…" She stopped, already wishing she hadn't even said his name. "I could write a book on that one, so let's not even start. Though, I'll say you were better than he was. I'll give you that much."
He seemed to be intently listening as she added, "You always came off as the type that wanted to play Quidditch for the acclaim and the attention. And it worked. You got a House Cup and everyone looooooved you. You were the golden boy of Hogwarts."
He blew air through his nose in a quick and almost deflated way. "You seem to have me all figured out."
They walked the last twenty feet in silence, with only the sound of their footsteps echoing up the path and the distant tune of music reverberating off the walls of her dorm to be heard. When they reached the path that forked off to her dorm, Stuart said, "And here we are. Safe and sound."
"Yeah, thanks for warding off all those attackers and potential dangers," she said, glancing back down the path. They'd only seen about six people on their journey and none had even given them a passing glance. Most had been completely preoccupied by their own business. One had been eating an obscenely large ice cream cone. "My hero."
"You are something else," he said, looking part annoyed and part amused. "But my folks raised me right, so I'll sleep better knowing I didn't let you wander off alone. Not that you probably wouldn't cut someone down with just a few words anyway. You seem fairly good at that."
She cracked a smile. It was clear that if he'd had any intentions, they were gone now. He was even keeping a safe five feet distance between them as his body language—with hands still shoved deep into his pockets—couldn't have been more closed off. "Well, thanks. Have a good night."
"You too," he said, and at that she turned and walked up the path to her dorm without even so much as a glance back. She pulled open the door and noticed the common area was mostly empty. Nothing more than a small group in the corner chatting, and a couple of friends near the door splitting a bottle of wine over their bookwork. It was such a stark contrast from where she'd come from that she had to blink several times in order to remember where she was. Her mind was still a bit fuzzy after mixing alcohol with the dragon's grass. She knew her body well enough that if she drank a big glass of water before bed, she'd wake up feeling fine.
After meandering down the corridor, she was still noticing the startling difference between how, in Dorm C, people were drinking and smoking in each room. Here, one closed door after another hid people who were presumably doing nothing more than sleeping. Perhaps before she left, after the rankings were out, she'd chance a quick trip into D to see what all the fuss was about. C had seemed like a mess, so she couldn't even imagine what people were doing in D. Orgies? Animal sacrifices?
She found her room and tapped the door with her wand, pushing it forward to enter. That was when everything happened so quickly that she didn't have time to process what she'd just stumbled into. It was dark and there was a small yelp, a grunt, the sound of a bed creaking under the weight of someone, shuffling, someone—a female, who had been kneeling on the floor—yelled, "Get out!" Then the door was quickly slammed closed with Dominique still on the other side of it. It had closed in her face and she found herself standing in the hallway blinking at it. What the fuck?
She stood back, trying to figure out what that was. Her mind was slowly putting the pieces together, and perhaps she wasn't as sober as she thought because it took her a good ten extra seconds to realize she'd walked on someone—presumably Jack—getting a blowjob. That was the only thing that made sense given the positions of the participants and the urgency to get her out of the room.
She immediately turned and headed back down the corridor, a cold sweat washing over her. What the hell? She should march in there and tell them both to go and fuck right off, but she found she couldn't bring herself to turn around and do that. She didn't want to be anywhere near there. She wanted to be as far away from that room as possible. She had to get out.
The people near the exit were still very involved in their bookwork, not even paying attention to the half drunk bottle of wine that was sitting on the table beside them. Dominique grabbed it as she passed, the overwhelming urge to drown that memory out with alcohol now overpowering her sense of right and wrong. Let them say something to her. They could chase her out into the night if they wanted it back. She didn't care.
Outside, it suddenly felt so much cooler than it had minutes earlier. It was as if the temperature had dropped ten degrees, though she was fairly sure it hadn't changed a bit. She made her way to a nearby bench and sat, swigging off the wine immediately. It was red and bold and warm as it went down. It felt good, so she drank more as she stared into the night.
What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? Why was she shaking all of the sudden? She looked down at her hand and sure enough, it was slightly trembling. Was that from the cold? Was that her? She had no idea. Yes, she had walked into a fucked up situation, but she should have pounded on the door and called them out. She should have kicked her out and then given Jack a good tongue-lashing—
She grimaced, gulping another large mouthful of wine. Tongue-lashing. Awful choice of words. Fuck. Why did she have to see that? Or rather, hear it. She actually hadn't seen much at all. She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was almost as if her imagination was making it worse than it probably was. She gulped more wine.
A few minutes passed before she stood from the bench, feeling the need to get even further away. Where could she go? She didn't want to go back to the party because she didn't want to talk to people or deal with more dumb jerks offering their room as a place to stay. She didn't have any other real friends here that she could go and stay with. Her options were limited.
Suddenly, an idea struck her and it was thanks to Stuart it even occurred to her. She left the bottle of wine much lighter than she'd found it on the bench and started jogging toward the canteen, forgoing all paths and cutting directly across the grass. It was open twenty-four hours and never closed. It would make for the perfect place to ride out the night until she could bring herself to return to her room. Could she return to her room? She wasn't sure, but she at least had a place to think things over now.
The nearer she got, she immediately saw there were people inside, though it was by far the emptiest she'd ever seen it. After entering, she set forth immediately to where someone had setup puddings and sweets. There were cakes and pies and candies, even black licorice wands—her personal favorites. She didn't even hesitate to grab a pack before grabbing the nearest chair at the closest table.
The black licorice package tore open with little effort and she immediately began chewing on the first wand she grabbed. It wasn't until that moment that she realized her heart was racing.
Nearby, a small group of women were sharing a collection of pies between them, seemingly enjoying an evening snack. Two tables down, a couple was snogging; two tables beyond them, another couple was silently judging the other couple given their annoyed expressions. Drunk men were stuffing their faces, friends were talking over coffee, groups were working on their bookwork, and two people actually looked as if they were coming from working out. Who worked out at midnight? She rolled her eyes before letting her gaze settle across the room. It was there that she found a rather surprising sight.
Stuart was sitting with his back toward her and facing a wall; looking as if it was reading something on the table. He actually had been serious about that snack. Huh. She'd read that earlier situation all wrong.
She watched him for a minute before pushing her chair out and walking quite quickly over to his table. She didn't say a word before pulling out a chair and taking the seat directly across from him. He'd only just managed to look up from his Daily Prophet as she sat.
"You were actually coming for a snack?" she asked, her eyes staring right into his.
"Yes?" he said, glancing at his half eaten slice of pizza on the table.
"I thought you made that up."
"Why?"
"Excuse to walk me back when you know otherwise I would have told you to fuck off."
He watched her for a moment before letting his eyes travel back down to his newspaper. "You think I made up an excuse so that I could…?" He hummed a little. "Oh, I get it. You thought I was trying to—"
"I think you were until you realized I'm a bitch."
A small grin played at the corner of his lips, but he still didn't look up from his paper. "I thought you were going to bed? Something about needing rest so you can get the best ranking ever."
She inhaled slowly, staring vacantly at the table now as if she could see through it. "I wanted to. Then I walked in on my roommate," she paused for effect, "getting a blowjob."
He chuckled a little, but didn't look the slightest bit fazed by that piece of information. He casually flipped the page of his Prophet. "I've walked in on that at least twice already this week."
"But I don't want to see that."
"Did I make it seem as if I did? I've seen Durrin and Annabelle naked more than some of the girls I've actually been with."
"I just…I can't…I don't even know…This is Jack. He's one of my best friends and..."
He looked up. "Is this the same bloke you were trying to find back at the party?"
She nodded, still absently staring at the table as she picked up another licorice wand and aggressively tore the tip off.
"You talk about him a lot."
"Sorry, unlike you, I don't walk in on my friends getting blowjobs everyday, so it's kind of a story."
He went back to reading his paper. "Alright."
She watched him for a long moment as he continued to read through the business section—which seemed like a terribly boring thing to be doing in the middle of the night. "Didn't you already read that today? The new paper wouldn't be out until morning."
"I didn't read the whole thing," he said as he picked up his pizza and took a large bite.
She looked around the room again at all of the people either working, or stumbling in after partying, or using the spot as a place to see friends; here was Stuart Reynolds—THE Stuart Reynolds—reading the paper and eating pizza by himself. This somehow didn't fit the fantasy that so many of the girls at school had cooked up about him in their heads. He was supposed to be the life of the party, the 'it' guy, the one getting drunk and causing trouble, the one getting walked in on by his roommate every day. It seemed Durrin was more of that guy than Stuart was.
"This is your idea of a good time? Pizza and reading the Prophet after midnight?"
"It was until a few minutes ago." He looked up at her.
She ignored him and began chewing on her wand again, her buzz from before slipping away into something else entirely. She'd stopped shaking and calmed herself, but she could not stop thinking about what she'd seen and how her chest clenched up every time she replayed it in her head.
"This really has you worked up," he said, and she noticed then that'd he'd been observing her. "Have you just not seen a naked man before? Is this the first time you—?"
"For fucks sake," she said, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I've seen a man naked. I've even given blowjobs—some public. A few in the Quidditch arena at school."
He stared at her. That had gotten his attention.
"I don't know why I told you that."
He leaned back in his chair. "Shit, you are nothing like your sister."
"Yeah, well, nice to meet you."
He was quiet for a moment before finally saying. "Ok, but now I've got questions. Were you in the tunnels? Or the changing rooms? Or right out on the pitch? You never got caught?"
She glared at him.
"Oh, come on. You can't say something like that and then not expect questions." He picked up the leftover crust from his pizza and pointed it at her. "Alright, well, we've established you've got no problem with the naked form."
She reached out to retrieve another licorice wand. "I see what you're trying to play at. Look, sex doesn't bother me. I'm not a prude. I'm all for people having it and having lots of it if that's what they want. Whatever."
"Then why are you upset?"
"Because it's my room and he's with this dumb girl—"
"So, you're all for people having sex and lots of it as long as it's not this guy with this girl in your room? That's what I'm hearing here."
"No, I mean, yeah…" She shook her head slowly. 'It's not…" She didn't know how to phrase it, but that wasn't it. When he said it, it sounded stupid.
"Do you not like this girl?"
She shrugged. "I don't know her."
"Then how do you know she's dumb?"
"I don't, but I also don't like random strangers fooling around in my room."
He shook his head. "Not a random stranger. An invited guest."
"You're obnoxious," she muttered, already tired of this conversation and regretting that she'd come over. "No one asked you."
"You asked me when you sat down and started talking," he said, leaning back in his chair for a brief moment before he glanced up at the food counter. "I'm going to get more pizza. Are you going to be here when I get back?"
She sighed and slowly looked around the room at all the random, strange faces. "I don't really have anywhere else to go right now, so...probably."
He stood up, his expression seemingly accepting that and not reacting one way or the other. He disappeared to go and get pizza while Dominique grabbed another licorice wand and absently began to chew on it, feeling somewhat like a small rodent gnawing on the end of a stick. She'd calmed down, but now wanted the image to disappear.
She'd walked in on Louis and Sarah once, in her own sitting room and in various stages of undress. There had been hands below the waistline, but that was all she'd managed to see before immediately shouting out in shock before walking straight back out the door. It had been alarming to walk in on it, but after the initial shock had worn off, she'd actually found it rather funny to remind them. They, of course, were embarrassed—Sarah more than Louis—but after a day or so it had just turned into a bit of a joke for everyone. Maybe that's where she was now. The initial shock hadn't worn off.
Stuart returned, having brought himself more pizza and setting it down on the table. When he sat back down, he gestured to her licorice wands. "I've never known anyone to eat the black wands. Most people think they're disgusting."
"They're my favorite," she said with her mouth full.
"That explains a lot."
She rolled her eyes. Stuart Reynolds had jokes. Shame they weren't very funny.
"Why aren't you out there living up to your reputation?" she asked, her head lazily resting on her hand.
"What's my reputation?"
"I dunno," she mumbled. "Being Stuart Reynolds. Whatever that means. Seems pretty exciting from what I hear."
"Well, not sure what you've heard, but I'm rather boring," he said as he picked up his pizza and gestured to his Prophet. "I do like to drink with my friends and cut loose when I can, but some of them—like Durrin and Annabelle, especially when they're together—like to get absolutely wrecked every night and I don't have it in me to do that all the time. Especially when it's the same shit, different day around here. It gets old."
"So, instead you eat pizza and read the newspaper?"
"Tonight I do," he said. "But I've also been pretty drunk the last two nights."
She continued to stare at him. She'd regained her filter mostly, but there was still a part of her that was feeling rather blunt. She was also bored, which was a dangerous combination because now she'd find herself prying into him. She suddenly gestured to his face. "Why the facial hair?"
He reached up and absently ran his hand along his jawline. "I feel it makes me look older. I want to be taken more seriously at work."
"You don't look that much older."
"I'll take what I can get."
She looked down at his pizza. "Why do you only eat plain cheese?"
"There's only two kinds and the other one had sausage on it."
"You don't like sausage?"
"I'm a vegetarian."
She blinked at that. For whatever reason, that surprised her. She would have never assumed that about him since he didn't seem like the type—was there a type? Then again, he didn't seem like much of anything she'd really had him pegged as. "Really?"
He nodded. "My whole family is. It's how I was raised."
"Have you ever had meat?"
He seemed to think about that for a long moment. "I know I had chicken once as a kid. Didn't care for it."
"But there's so many other kinds. Maybe you just didn't like chicken."
He continued to eat his pizza and waited until swallowing before saying, "Can't miss what you've never had."
That was a fair point; her expression conveyed as much as she continued to absently watch him as he ate his pizza bite by bite.
"Why all the questions?" he asked.
"I'm bored and you're here."
"Alright, well now I've got one," he said. "Hermione Granger-Weasley. Last name's match, so she is your…what? How are you related?"
"My aunt," she said, pulling out another wand to eat. There was only one left after that, which made her feel sadder than it should have. "She married my dad's brother. Why? Do you know her?"
"She's my boss. Or my boss' boss, rather. Just wondered." He looked at her for longer than what would be considered polite. "You seem to be related to a lot of important people."
"Lucky me being born into the right family," she said sarcastically. "Which is funny since the Weasley name was basically dirt back before the war."
"Not particularly a fan of famous life, are you?"
She looked away and shrugged. "It's my family. You said it yourself—you can't miss what you never had. I can't miss having a—" she made air quotes with her fingers, "'normal family' when I've never had one. Growing up in the shadow of the Weasleys and Potters is all I've ever known."
"What's he really like?" Stuart asked. "Harry Potter, I mean."
Dominique was asked this question from time to time, though she never had a particularly exciting answer to give people. She knew people wanted to hear interesting details, but her very famous uncle was actually very boring.
"He keeps to himself, actually. Isn't particularly social outside of the people he keeps close. I don't think I've had many conversations with him, if I'm being honest. The ones I've had have been about Quidditch. We both played Seeker for Gryffindor, so he'll ask me about that. I'm closer to my Aunt Ginny—his wife. I see him when she's around. Otherwise, he really does keep to himself."
"That's not surprising," he said. "If I were him I'd probably keep to myself too."
They both found themselves staring at each other then. It was a charged moment, like something had switched on all of the sudden and the tone was now changed. He was looking at her differently. It couldn't possibly have to do with the talk of her famous family since everyone knew the Weasleys and Potters were one in the same; that wasn't a new revelation to anyone. But he was certainly watching her more carefully all of the sudden. She had to admit, she didn't hate it.
"Why'd you and Davies split up?" he asked, finally breaking eye contact.
"We had an expiration date," she muttered. "That's what I was told."
"He said that?" He made a face as if he found that comment to be a bit much. "What a twat."
She took a very large breath. "Funny thing is that I knew he was and I still…" She shook her head, laughing a little before adding. "It's better this way. I mean, he's right. I'm going back to school and he's not. What's the point?"
"I get that," he said. "I broke up with my ex—Liz, you mentioned you knew her—anyway, I did the same thing. Threw away years because I would be at school and she would be gone and we'd barely see each other. Who wants that at seventeen? We'd reached a stagnant point, and even though I still loved her, I wanted to see what else was out there. So, I did it. It was stupid decision and I regretted it almost immediately. Even managed to get her to take me back at some point, but things were different. We didn't last long."
"But you regretted it?" she asked, thinking of Henry and wondering if for even a second, he'd also regretted it.
Stuart nodded. "Yeah, especially since she moved on with my best friend. He's obviously not my friend anymore, but he was at the time. They've been together for awhile now." He grimaced. "I hear they're very happy."
She smiled at him, even letting herself laugh a bit. It probably wasn't the most appropriate reaction, but it was the one he got. He didn't seem to mind much since his grimace warmed into an actual smile. She realized then she didn't think he was an arsehole, not as a defining characteristic at least. He could be one, sure, but so could she. So could most people. He just seemed like he made some stupid choices, but she was a champion of doing that. They had that in common.
At that moment, she decided that he was quite handsome after all and—dare she say it—but she found herself attracted to him. She'd be dumb to think that if given the opportunity, she wouldn't hook up with him. Just like that, years and years of being annoyed by his mere existence had turned off. If everyone else was going to go around putting their bits into other people, why couldn't she? That had been her goal after all, hadn't it? Find someone for some meaningless sex? He ticked off all of her boxes, after all. She wouldn't have to ever really see him again. He was far from ugly. It could easily be a one night thing. Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. He was a pretty fit someone else.
"Since we're playing the question game," he said, cutting through the silence once more. "What's the answer to the one I asked earlier? About where in the Quidditch arena you managed to blow a guy without getting caught."
She laughed, now feeling as if they were headed in the same direction. Talking about sex was a good way to potentially lead into it. She had to wonder if he'd asked that question on purpose after also feeling the sudden shift. "You're really keen on getting an answer to that one?"
"A bit, yeah. Never managed to make it down there for anything like that."
"Just in the tunnels and changing rooms. A bit exposed, but it made it more fun. The thrill and all."
He looked impressed to hear that. "Bold. And you never got caught?"
She shook her head. "You remember there were corners and nooks down there? Where'd you go?"
"Mostly in my room. She and I were both in the same house, so it was easy. Also, Prefects' bathroom. You ever fooled around in there?"
She shook her head again. She was neither a Prefect nor a Quidditch captain and had no access to it. Oddly enough, Henry had but he'd never once mentioned it. She wasn't even sure he'd known it was there or that he technically could use it. Seemed like a missed opportunity.
Stuart made a face as if to say she was missing out. "If you ever get the chance, take it. They've got a bathtub in there, but it's more a small swimming pool. It's got a million bubbles and these great smelling soaps. It's amazing. You could have a lot of good, clean fun." He grinned. "Or dirty fun. Whichever you prefer."
"Good to know," she said, grinning back at him. "I do enjoy some dirty fun. And then there would be very easy access to clean up, which is nice."
"It's very convenient," he said slowly, letting his gaze linger once more. There they went again with the looks and stares. She was new to this whole thing, but she felt as if he was now feeling as keen as she was. She couldn't be sure, but since she was shitty at playing the game, she may as well just ask.
"Were you actually trying to pull me earlier?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation, his ever charming smile now appearing on his face. To be that bloody confident must have been an amazing feeling. She may not be good at this game, but he was a professional who was now in his element. "That is to say, I was putting out feelers because I think you're gorgeous, but then I backed off because you didn't bite at anything."
"Turns out it was the pizza and the midnight reading that really did it for me." She smiled. "Who knew?"
"I knew I should have led with pizza."
She laughed before they again stared at each other for another prolonged moment. She inhaled slowly before finally deciding to just say what they were both thinking. "So, tell me more about your definition of dirty fun?"
He shrugged. "If you're keen, I'd be happy to show you. Hard to explain, really."
"I am a visual learner."
He smirked. "I think we can both come up with some visuals."
She nodded as if she were carefully thinking that over. "I do enjoy visuals. But my room is a bit occupied, so we'd have to go to yours. Unless you think Durrin—"
"I'll handle Durrin," he said before he slid his chair back and wiped his hands on a napkin. It had been such a normal gesture for such an abnormal situation. Did they really just agree to go and have sex that easily? Just like that? Was it really that easy?
"You coming?" he'd asked, and she realized he was waiting for her. She'd zoned out for a moment, but as she looked him up and down—he was quite tall and handsome—and was now realizing she would get to see him naked in a few minutes time. This was definitely a fresh start. This could be a good time.
She stood and walked around the table, stopping right in front of him. "I better be or else this is a waste of time."