Search found 16 matches for Domlan

Graduation Beyond Naiveté

Dom had never worked so hard.

After she came back from Ilvermorny, life had taken a little while to get normal again. She was anxious to see Declan return after his shock, and she couldn't but actively follow the recoveries of her cousins. Once everyone seemed to be relatively okay, her attention was turned back to culinary school, which she had completely dropped. She managed to explain her absences away, but the work still had to be made up and she had to catch up. She caught up just in time for the certification exams. After this, she would be a cook. Couldn't call herself a chef quite yet. She'd have to take this degree and enter a more advanced program but that all counted on her being able to pass this first round anyway.

It had been exhausting, really. Her nights were spent in her kitchen, and she wouldn't care to admit how much she had spent on food to practice... or how many dishes had been broken in frustration. But Dom was beginning to grow up, beginning to resemble an adult.

She was still relatively naive, however.

So when Aunt Hermione owled her to drop by, Dom assumed it was to return to sweater she had borrowed the night of the party. Of course. What else could it be?

Dom walked up the path, tugging the zipper up on her jacket. She had changed moments before leaving, deciding a tomato-sauce-covered frock wasn't exactly fashionable. The dress jacket combo had been convenient enough, but the slight winter chill was making her regret not choosing pants.

She hugged the grey sweater to her chest as she reached the door, knocking twice before opening the door. Hermione knew she was going to drop by and anyone who could get past the wards were typically welcome to come on in. "Hermione! Ron! It's your favorite niece!"

The Worst Year to Have a 50th

Hermione peered out the window, cringing slightly at the sight before her. It was far too much, September 19th or not. Even for her fiftieth, it didn't feel appropriate. She didn't need floating candles in the backyard, nor did she particularly desire the covered tables with flowers and an astounding number of plates. There really were so many relatives on Ron's side. She was looking forward, however, to seeing the family members who weren't around very often anymore. Rose and Hugo would undoubtedly arrive at some point. Ron's siblings - those that were left. Dom would perhaps bring that man Rose had mentioned, though Hermione hoped that most would keep to family unless they had asked her ahead of time.

After all, their yard was lovely but it wasn't big enough for the entire progeny that was the Weasley and Potter clans.

The Longbottoms had been invited, of course, as they were basically family anyway, which was why she was watching Frank help Ron levitate plates around and set them on the tablecloths.

It wasn't that she didn't feel appreciative, or that birthdays weren't a brilliant excuse to see the people she loved the most. It was that the year was 2029. Twenty years ago, Harry had vanished, and now she was meant to spend one of her biggest birthdays without one of her first friends at Hogwarts. One of her first friends in the Wizarding World. In truth, Harry had been nicer to her than anyone else at the start, even if he was rather quiet about it. Her lie had solidified her friendship, and she had never regretted telling Minerva something that was utterly untrue.

The door opened, making her jump and turn to see who had come in, finding Frank standing there. He always looked so bored with everything, didn't he?

"I think some of the others are arriving," he said, gesturing towards the pathway that led through the back garden and around to the front of the house. They had asked people to go ahead and come round, so she nodded and offered a firm smile, afraid mainly that it might be a Potter that walked through. That she wouldn't be able to hide the disappointment she felt despite the grandeur of the day's events and planning.

So she followed Frank outside, looking around for Ace as she made it to Ron's side, passing a hand over his hair to guide it into place. He frowned slightly but didn't comment, either from years of dealing with her habits or as a silly gift to her on her birthday. Either way, she turned towards the path and leaned a little to see who was coming in.

the Severely Incompetent but Sincerely Determined Rescue Squad

Dom's fingers threaded with Declan's, glancing behind her at the castle. Jack had helped them get into the castle unnoticed through a passageway Dom had ever heard rumors of, before giving them both a pat on the back and old Potter's Army tokens. Apparently she had kept them and they had continually come in handy. Oliver had one too so they would all be in the know if, and when, Dom and Declan made it.

Dom was reeling. Jack had taken off to confront the Headmaster, Oliver left to deal with his significant other after helping Ace and Christian figure out their next step, and she and Declan were off to see what the problem was with this American school... besides the fact that it was America. Ay-o.

No, not funny. Not in this context. Okay. Moving on.

They had to be getting close, and she was not going to be the one to admit that the excitement of the adventure was beginning to wear off now that they would have to face... whatever there was to face. After all, her investment was personal. Or, what if everything was normal, all fine? Or it was so subtle she had nothing to say? No, Jack and Oliver should have come. They knew what they were looking for. She was just a... just a person. And a useless one at that.

Declan shifted his hold on her hand and she glanced up at him, so resolute, so willing to throw himself into the cause. She lifted her chin. No. They could do this.

They were doing this.

A Mid-Morning Housecall

It was one thing to be the sole person in a relationship to have a job and thus a semblance of a life outside of the flat, but for Oliver it was a different animal all together. His other flatmate, Ariel, at least had people to go see. Oliver, however, spent his days in his flat - probably in his room - at the desk where he wrote the novels he published under a fake name. As much as he enjoyed writing, fame wasn't something he wanted, and it would also be safe to say that he wasn't a fan of hearing about it directly if people disliked his work. At least his girlfriend approved, apparently.

If he left the flat, it was to grab food, meet Alice, or take the dogs for a walk. He didn't have much of a life, and that was alright, Oliver supposed. He could deal with this. He was also the co-owner of Flourish & Blotts, and while he wasn't there most of the time, now that they had hired on Athena and because Keiran was there so often to be near his wife and children, that gave him a little bit to do.

Just a little bit.

At least, that's how he wanted his life to be perceived. In truth, he was breaking the law daily, and helping two others do the same. In truth, he had taken back the Order and was determined not to ruin it and find himself giving up on the whole ordeal again. He had a plan in place, a council to build, and students to get back from their exchange year at Hogwarts. He had his check list made and ready to go, even if it was a mental one.

That is, he had it sorted out until a patronus had bounded into his room, declaring that its creator needed to meet with him right away. He wasn't actually that spectacular with remembering voices, but this one did sound familiar. Either way, it sounded urgent, and as very few were in the know about who held the keys to Grimmauld Place, now, Oliver doubted it was actually anything untoward. He didn't exactly want to be proven wrong, but it was possible. So, wand in hand, he waited for his patronus to reach Dom Weasley, asking her to come to his flat and discuss whatever it was that was so important.

That didn't... go well

The events of the train swirled around her as she stood uncertainly on the Hogwarts Express platform, seemingly incapable of understanding where the rest of the train had gone. Her heart was pounding heavily, mind racing, but she looked blank as she wavered on the platform, trunk slowly slipping from her fingers.

The rest of her coworkers had immediately twirled into action, speaking fast and moving quickly. She didn't even know where to start, didn't even know how. How did a train just... disappeared?

Oh... Merlin. Her cousins were on that train.

She spotted Declan's face from across the crowd but she couldn't move, couldn't reach him. Her mouth was open ever so slightly, and she shook her head. At a loss.

What had happened?

So... don't call you Mummy and Papa Arryn? No? Okay, fair.

What had Dom been up to?

After she and Declan had finally found an agreement upon their situation, they had settled comfortably into their new undefined relationship. Even so, they had never been more couple-y. Dom was pretty much a staple in the Leaky, even unofficially helping out behind the bar or when a waiter called in sick – mostly to help through the rushes so she could continue to annoy Declan while he bartended. She also had taken to spending nights at his place, even finally leaving a toothbrush and other toiletries in his bathroom.

Of course, Declan didn’t mind. Or, if he did, he didn’t say anything. But she gave him his space when she felt the need, she continued to go out with her friends, and she had even introduced him to Rose.

Things were going well.

She had followed up on Declan’s ideas for her careers, only after biting her nails and lamenting her inevitable failure to Rose for an entire weekend. Rose surprised her by forcing an introduction with a friend of hers from the Prophet, and the dream seemed to end as quickly as it had begun – she had no experience in either journalism, critiquing, hospitality, events, or food. Rose’s friend, however, suggested she either take hotel management courses or enroll in culinary school, and as the woman had a pamphlet for the latter, it was culinary school that Dom had settled on after another three days of nail-biting and dramatic flailing. It was an accelerated program with night classes, and the cost was low. She had to jump on it.

Declan had work, so she had to prepare for her first day on her own, with only Rose to keep her calm. She was ridiculously excited, having invested in a knife set, a chef’s jacket, and one of those poofy hats the chefs wore. With an excited thumbs up, Dom apparated off to her fate.

And a few hours later, she limped home in defeat.

Her jacket was covered in tomato juice, despite the day simply being knife skills. She had the wrong set of knives, no one else was wearing the poofy hat, and she had learned the hard way why nonslip shoes were a necessity.

She had not mentioned to Declan coming over, though she had promised to send him a note, vis a vis how her first night had gone. However, she felt the absolute need to see him, and so she apparated off to his place and slipped inside, used to coming in with no other warning than her voice.

“Dec?” she called. She could hear clanging coming out of the kitchen and, hoping he had dinner and beer that she could partake in, she wandered that way, her voice tremulous with the emotion of the day. “It was horrible, Dec! I fell, I spilled all over me – they called my knives toys! Even though I spent good money – that salesman, Dec, ripped me off- Oh! Also, I wore my favorite pants for good luck and these women laughed at me when they thought I wasn’t looking, those bitches-“

Reconciliation

France had been beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. She had been gone for about three weeks, enjoying the sights with her cousin. Rose had been going through a rough patch as well, and had tracked her down after the anniversary party gone sour, and the two had reconnected. It had been Rose's crazy idea for them to go on holiday, and Dom hadn't been convinced until Rose showed up with the gold to afford the trip. Promises and kissies smothered Declan until he admitted that she could probably use the time on her own, and soon the girls were magically expanding their suitcases and clearing out their closets.

It was perfect. Their time was split between beautiful bistros, bright beaches, and bumping bars. Rose seemed to be on a mission to expand her horizons, once dragging Dom to a nude beach, and disappearing with a few cute men now and again. Their little villa, borrowed from a friend of Rose's, was ridiculously quaint and Dom had even rented a bicycle to get around.

It felt magical.

Until she had run into Nico.

It was about halfway through when she looked across the swimming pool at the club they had taken to, and seen her friend Nico pressing a kiss on a woman who then hurried off to the bistro. Their eyes had met and they decided to cross the distance and greet each other.

Coffee with Nico was strange. He was doing well, according to him. Brigitte was a fashion journalist, but very hardworking and incredibly classy. He was madly in love with her, and she loved him deeply too. He had a good few mates, and was working in the French Ministry, and was feeling better than ever.

She didn't share much. She couldn't. She kept it to her trip, to the fact that she was seeing someone, that she was... happy.

The conversation just fizzled.

She felt strange after that. She struggled to engage as she had before, and Rose could sense it. As their holiday began to approach it's final days, she found herself not just missing Declan, but needing him.

"Come on, Dom, stay. It's one more day."

Dom snapped the suitcase shut and stood up, looking at Rose, who was lounging on one of the chic couches, a passed out French men resting his cheek on her knee as she stroked his hair. Dom smirked. "He looks like your cat."

"Dom," Rose warned.

"I just want to surprise him," Dom said lifting a shoulder, smiling.

Rose huffed out a sigh, rolling her eyes. "You're really going to leave me with him?"

Dom smirked. "Maybe you can declaw him."

"Shut up," Rose quipped. "Well, you better make it worth it."

Dom grinned. "I will."

She didn't even drop off her suitcases. She dragged it along with her after apparating and composed herself outside of the door. She had put on a dress, hoping to make the sight a little special, a little exciting. She felt her heart pounding and she wasn't sure why. She knocked three times and rocked back on her heels, biting her bottom lip and trying to shake the nerves from her shoulders with an excited shiver.

Reconciliation

Declan got off work early that afternoon, leaving the Leaky in the hands of his second shift manager, stopping off at the shops on his way home to pick up groceries and a few things for the flat. He had work to do, though, so he didn't linger for very long. Upon returning home, Declan set to work cleaning up, knowing that he wasn't particularly messy but also that Dom would be coming home tomorrow and he would want to have his place looking at least a little better than usual if he was going to invite her around. He'd planned out what he would cook if she decided she wanted to come over, but he didn't want it to seem like he was up to anything untoward.

He sent a series of cleaning charms around the flat as he put away the groceries he had purchased. Some of the fruit was left in a little basket on the bar above his sink, but most of it went into the fridge or the freezer. Even as he was putting it away, he mused over whether or not Dom would actually like any of the things he had picked. He wasn't sure what time she would get in the next day, but perhaps she would regale him with stories while he cooked, or maybe while they both did.

Merlin, he hoped nothing had changed. He couldn't begrudge her a holiday, couldn't have said she shouldn't go. He'd missed her, though, despite the postcards. It certainly seemed as though nothing had changed, if only because of that, but Declan really just couldn't tell with Dom sometimes. It was a great sign that he had missed her, he thought. Just like last time.

Declan sighed as he shut the fridge door, then crossed over to the sink to add some water to the vase of carnations he had bought. He didn't know if Dom liked them, but he thought she might be entertained by the fact that he had also bought food dye. Surely she would get a kick out adding colors in and watching the petals change? If she didn't, he'd do it for her. One day he would have to find out which kind were her favorites, though.

The vase he sat on the coffee table of the little living room area of his flat, and moved into his bedroom to hang up a few clean shirts.

Shell Shock at Shell Cottage

Fleur had lost her mind.

Teddy knew that Fleur was a little different. She had been the woman, after all, that he had at one time regarded as his potential future mother-in-law. Perhaps it was this perception that made him look at Fleur with a bit of fear, or perhaps it had something to do with her fierce French attitude, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that she was currently wielding a large cutting knife as she spoke to him, waving it around.

"-and now, we are using some random caterer zat Roxanne suggested, and I just 'ope no one zinks I did not plan-"

"Fleur, everything looks spectacular-"

"Because thirty year eez not something you wave a 'and at-"

"Fleur, I was going to go give this camera to-"

"And eet's already bad enough zat I am aging myself-"

"You look great Fleur. I'm going to take this camera to Molly."

He dodged out, heaving a big sigh the second he exited the kitchen. He hurried out of the cottage, nodding and smiling at the select women that were brave enough to venture in to help the French woman in her crusade. He slipped outside and once again marveled at just what Fleur had pulled off. The sand had been charmed into a grassy knoll, picnic blankets and beach chairs placed strategically. Some white wicker chairs and table sets had been gathered under a small gazebo, and a long table that the caterer would soon be filling with food blocked off the party space from the rest of the beach.

"Hi Teddy."

Teddy turned to see Alice Longbottom smiling serenely at him. "Oh, hi Alice. Glad to see you here."

"Mum insisted," she said. "Thought it would be a nice gesture, even though Dad is scared of Fleur."

Teddy chuckled. "Where is Neville? I could hide with him."

"Talking to Sawyer. What's with the camera?"

She pointed to the camera in his hands. He glanced down and sighed. "I'm looking for Molly."



Molly Weasley was sitting on a rock a bit away, where she could not be seen from the party. Clementine wasn't there to ease her agitation, but was frolicking at a huge floral convention in Bristol. Her family had slipped into the crowd and had not seemed to notice she was gone - if they had, they were too used to her solitary behavior to mind too much.

Her cigarettes had eased the solitude. The little sticks had been her companions for as long as she could remember, and it family events usually ended with her sneaking off for a cigarettes. She doubted it was an actual secret, but she supposed it was respectful to slink off to get her kicks. She was rarely stumbled upon unless it was...

Someone sat next to her. She continued to look out at the ocean, bringing the cigarette o her lips and exhaling. Her new companion reached out and Molly passed the cigarette.

Lily brought the stick to her lips and pulled the toxins into her body, before pulling the cigarette away and handing it back to Molly. Not a word passed, just the way Lily preferred. Lily had felt a bit indebted to Molly ever since the summer incidents, but they never really talked about it. Still, Lily found herself treating the girl like a beacon, someone she was drawn to to find shelter. Molly had not disappointed her.

Molly looked over at the figure next to her, who had long closed her eyes. "Come on," Molly murmured, standing. "Food will do us good."

Lily nodded and stood, spindly legs unfurling beneath her. She reached out for a last drag of the cigarette, and Molly finished it off.

"Molly! Hey, so Fleur needs-"

The words died in Teddy Lupin's throat as Molly slowly turned to look at him. His eyes had fallen on Lily, who was absently looking past him, trying to avoid... whatever talk he wanted to have with her. He had finally stopped showing up at her place to try to tempt her into accepting his help, and had resolved to just send her care packages. But they hadn’t seen each other, face to face, in months.

Molly dropped the cigarette and toed it into her rock. “What’s Fleur need?”

Teddy’s eyes darted back to her and he cleared his throat. “Um, she wants pictures? She found this old digital- she knows you like taking pictures-“

“I have my own camera,” she said, patting her side bag, where one of her polaroid cameras waited.

“Lily-” Teddy began.

“Will help me,” Molly finished, pulling the camera out. “Let’s get started.”

Lily followed Molly, eyes glazing over Teddy’s face. The Lupin man’s body clenched and he stared out at the sea, the view the girls had been taking in. He wondered if they had appreciated it.


“So, my mum is crazy,” Dom repeated.

She had been briefing Declan for hours now, it felt like, and had changed her outfit three times. Declan had really been brave through it all, so far, but she knew that he would understand the second he met her family. She realized it probably seemed a bit… quick… but she would have taken any good friend to such an event, to save her from her own DNA. She was hoping this was less of a “meet my parents” type deal and more of a “please help me not get bored or embarrass myself” sort of milestone. That was much safer.

Shell Cottage was just down the lane. They walked along the path, her polka dot dress swirling around her knees as her hat flapped gently against the breeze. She knew she looked cute – she didn’t care much what she wore as long as she looked cute enough to keep Declan’s eyes on her. That would distract him from the mess they were surely walking in to.

“I know I’ve said it,” she continued, “but I want you to really understand – she’s kind of crazy. And we always were… I dunno. Weird. My dad’s so cool. You’ll like him. And then there’s all the aunts and uncles – Lily might be here. Don’t bring up you-know-what. We don’t talk about it, and it’s a big secret. Annnnd Ron sometimes drinks a bit… Like, it’s funny. But just… he’ll tell you so many stories. Don’t believe most of them. Am I overwhelming you? I’m overwhelming you. I’ll stop. Just… it’ll be fine.”