Pairing: Dominique/Lorcan

Author: Alice (watching stiricide)

For: Becca (Aebbe)

follow what you feel inside
follow what you feel inside
it's intuitive; you don't have to try
Naturally : Selena Gomez

He was the scrawny kid with the shirts two sizes large because his twin, Lysander, was considerably larger and bulkier than him. He was the kid with the pet newt instead of the ubiquitous owl and the spiky hipster hair when he was eleven. He was the kid with the sloppy grin on his face, the boy with the favorite color of violet, and the little guy who seemed to be a offshoot of his cooler, more extroverted twin, even though he was only four minutes younger than Ly.

He never considered himself an outcast, but more just a child eccentric. For ages his unorthodoxy had never bothered him. He liked himself; self-esteem wasn't an issue. Because who fucking cares what others thought?

But now he's not eleven but seventeen, not child but adult, not happy but lonely, and not interested but bored of life. He's tired of idling in the idyllic fields of his parents' vast nature preserve and he's tired of just plain content. He's well aware that this feeling of inadequacy afflicts every seventeen-year-old man fresh out of boyhood, and for once, he's not ashamed of not being unique.

"Mum, I'm going to America," he announces one day, stepping into the room with a camera grasped in one hand and a sign of unhappiness graced on his face.

Luna doesn't drop the tumbler of coffee that she's holding and she doesn't lurch like the way his friend Fred's mum did when Fred told her he was leaving for New York City. Luna looks underwhelmed, in fact.

"I've seen that coming since Ly moved to Belgium, Lorc," she merely comments. "You boys never let it go, do you?" It's tacit encouragement from Luna.

"Thanks, Mum."

"Just follow what you feel inside, Lorc," and with anybody else, Lorcan might have squirmed at how cliché that sounds, but with Luna Scamander, it's just wisdom at its most graceful.

And so he's off, just like that. Scamanders are like that, disappearing and appearing again over and over again and loving during one moment and hating during the next. He's like his father before him; leaving on missions and for research and not coming back for years on end.

He has half a mind to join Fred Weasley in New York, to have somewhere to crash for the next couple of weeks until he gets a place and a life of his own, but then decides against it at the last minute; after all, following his friends everywhere isn't gaining independence. In his defense, he thinks, something he's wanted forever is his own independence.

Lorcan decides on Boston. It's still close enough to England that he can Apparate without too many risks – for Apparation was unhealthy over extremely long distances – but in and of itself a different place. He heads over there by Muggle aeroplane, for Lysander extols about how fun it is being 2000 feet in the air, and who is Lorcan to question what Ly says?

The first thing he learns about Boston is that the Muggles there are crazy. The traffic is outrageous. The Muggles have these roads in the air – he later learns they are called ramps – and never do the reverberating screeches of car honks or the bustle of lane-switching – what Muggles call crashing into each other, in essence – escape his senses until he leaves the vicinity altogether.

He could be happy here, with everybody doing his own business and no eyebrows raised. He could be happy here.

Lorcan lands a job as a writer at the local Wizarding newspaper, the Bostonian Times.

"Say, kid," Chad Creevey, one of the senior reporters, and a few years Lorcan's senior, comments one day after he notices Lorcan's casual shots of the ocean side, "You sure have got a great eye. I hear the photography department is in need of talent this year."

Lorcan stutters, "But...no! I just take pictures for fun! I mean-"

"Kid," Chad says, louder now, "My own Daddy is a professional photographer. Dennis Creevey – you've heard of him?" Lorcan nods. "Yeah; he and Harry Potter used to go to school together. And now he's famous; I'm not trying to brag, just trying to make my point, but he's a world-famous photographer. Trust me. I know you've got loads of talent."

The next day, Lorcan applies for a position at the photography department. He's accepted, and his photo of the dingy Muggle sailboat with its tattered sails, the film of hazy watery spray in the image, and the dynamic waves splashing around the boat makes its way to the boss's office in a golden frame.

"But Aunt Hermione, I don't want to go over to Bos-" Dominique exclaims angrily at her boss, the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, who, incidentally, also happens to be her aunt.

Hermione shakes her head lightly. "The issue isn't whether you wish to go or not; it's that the American Ministry needs a few part-time workers in their Law Enforcement department and since you're the youngest of our lawyers, the department management volunteered you."

"But- But...you're the Head! Can't you, say, overturn their decision?"

Hermione again shakes her head. "No, Dom, I get no say in this. I only get a say if the matter at hand is a matter of life or death, or if we're in a openly declared war, which we're not."

Awkward silence commences.

"Fine," she finally breathes, and stalks out of the office, leaving a distressed Hermione behind to contemplate the situation. No, Dominique's not spoiled, she really isn't; it's just that she has just been told that she must abandon her life and start again in a foreign city in a strange country, is all. That's all, folks.

Well, she thinks, trying to cheer herself up, I could always write letters, right?

Not surprisingly, her attempt at happiness doesn't work.

Reluctantly, she leaves for Boston that June, after clinging to England for three months. Welcome home, she thinks bitterly as she reaches the location of her new flat.

Excitedly, he returns to Boston that June, after a little visit back at England. Welcome home, he thinks fondly as he reaches the location of his old flat.

CRASH

Lorcan drops his lunch canteen.

Dominique drops her notes for the big day – the first day at the new job.

"Ow!" He yells. He picks his canteen up. Unfortunately, her notes are scattered all over the ground. She starts to scuttles to retrieve all of her pages, cursing herself for not having the foresight to use some sort of charm to clip the pages together. After a few moments of stun, Lorcan drops to the ground too to get all the parchment.

When all of the notes are safely stowed in a bag of Dominique's, they look at each other.

"Dominique Weasley?" He intones.

"Lorcan Scamander!" She cries. He's eternally grateful she can differentiate between him and Ly.

She goes in for a friendly hug – their parents were good friends, what with Luna having stayed with Bill and Fleur over the war - while he sticks out a hand to shake. He ends up hitting her stomach.

Both remain silent for a moment. Then, Dominique laughs.

He loosens up too after that. They walk together to their respective workplaces, and coincidentally, they find out that not only are they flat-neighbors, but also that they work locations are next doors to each other.

"Hey, Dom," Lorcan calls, three months later after their initial meeting. "Wanna hit the streets and go for some coffee?" He's bored and it's the second-to-last Saturday of September; soon it would be too cold outside for much sightseeing.

"Coffee?" Dominique frowns. "Like...on a date?"

Lorcan, ever so socially adept, he sarcastically thinks to himself.

"No. No! Of course not!" He cries, throwing his hands up into the air, as though proclaiming his innocence in some way. "Not like that! I mean, just casual, right? We're pretty good friends now, right?"

"We are pretty good friends," she agrees, and Lorcan doesn't know why, but he thinks he hears a twinge of disappointment in that statement. "You've helped me adjust to Boston, and now I actually kind of feel like I belong here."

"Yeah. So, like friends?"

"Yeah. Okay, like friends, I guess," she mutters, and Lorcan doesn't know why she's so sad.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks after a moment of silence.

"Nothing," she mutters. "But just one thing," she adds, picking up her tone again.

"What?" He asks warily.

"Let's go out for lobster and clam chowder, okay? I've always wanted to see what Boston's seafood is all about."

Lorcan grins. "Of course."

Follow what you feel inside.

It's a lesson she was taught by her mother since she was four. Follow what you feel inside, Dominique; you're smart and wise, you'll know what to do.

But the thing is, she doesn't know what to do. He's weird like that. With anybody regular, her Veela charm would have already caused them to act differently around her, yet he seems not to be able to see it. He seems so oblivious at times she wants to scream at him and throw something sharp at his cute face.

Arg.

She feels a crush bubbling up. It's just childish, she tells herself. It's just because he really helped you out adjusting to life here, she thinks. It doesn't mean anything.

But one look at that oblivious idiot, and all she wants to do is hug him and never let go. It's a strange feeling. She doesn't want to kiss him or shag him or anything like that; all she wants to do is hug him. She's lonely, and he's her only friend. He also happens to be the nicest, least sanctimonious person she's ever met. She doesn't want to sound like a fragile doll waiting for her boy-toy, because she's strong, okay? She's just as strong as any man, no doubt about it.

But love doesn't mean weakness, right?

Follow what she feels inside?

"Hey, Lor," she punches the unmoving boy – no, man.

"Wake up," She commands.

"Go 'way Ly," he mumbles softly. She laughs.

"Merry Christmas," she giggles. He recognizes that giggle, apparently, because he bolts up in bed.

"Merlin, Dom!" He yells. "What are you doing in my flat?"

"Nothing a little Alohomora can't fix," she answers. "You really ought to have better security in this flat," she suggests, offhandedly.

"Gosh, frightened me to death, you did," he mumbles.

"Merry Christmas!" She yells in his ear.

"Get dressed, then come to the living room so we can exchange presents," she orders, before sprinting outside and closing the bedroom door behind her.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbles after her rapidly retreating back.

"Well, this is certainly awkward," she says matter-of-factedly.

"It is."

They stare at each other, each holding a copy of The Odysseus in their hands.

"How did we manage to get the same book for Christmas for each other?" Dominique asks.

Lorcan shrugs. "I thought you might like this, since you say you like Muggle literature all the time," he explains.

"And I thought you might like this too, since you always say you're interested in the Ancient Greeks."

They stare at each other. Finally, it becomes all too much; they begin laughing uncontrollably. Finally, they topple over on top of each other, collapsing due to their laughter. Even in the little pile, they keep laughing, their chests heaving up and down and their souls lightening.

"Wow, we have a knack for coincidences," Lorcan finally says, underneath Dom, being the first of the two to stop laughing.

"We do," Dom agrees.

After a hearty Christmas breakfast, Dom leaves.

"Oh yeah, one last thing," Lorcan adds at the end. "Check your book for a note!"

"Oh yeah, you too!" She replies, waving, and hobbling back to her flat.

Dear Lorcan:

I hope you like this. I thought you might enjoy The Odysseus since you often speak of the Ancient Greeks. Also, I hope your family is well, and that our friendship may continue into the next year.

I hope it's not too awkward for me to say, but how does the prospects of a date sound? A real date, mind you, not some casual friends thing. Life isn't always easy, but you always seem to be smiling and there for others. Life really isn't easy.

You're honestly the nicest person I've ever met, and my mother's always told me to follow what I feel inside, so.

Best,

DW

Dear Dominique,

I got you The Odysseus since you seem to love the classical literature of the Muggles. Hopefully we can both read it after I somehow get a copy of this – this is a limited edition, mind you! – and we can talk about it! I also hope that the Weasleys are well.

Truth is, you're one of the most compassionate people I've ever met, and whenever I'm with you, I just feel exponentially happier. I know I may not be as handsome or even as smart as some other guys, but I really hope you will give me a chance when I say that I maybe love you? I mean, I've always tried to follow what I feel inside, so.

-Lorcan

A/N: Please review if you read it! NGF members, you get points for reviewing!

Please don't favourite/alert without reviewing, thank you =]