The "Oldies"

The flinch did not go unnoticed. The logical part of Dom - always a little outnumbered as it was, but especially now that she was so angry - knew that he was reacting with such aversion out of fear for his reputation, and his job. But the part of her that was all worked up because he was freaking out over something that should have been much simpler than he was taking it... that part was throbbing, and it jumped to the conclusion that he was ashamed of the whole act. So who was he to call her the one who had done the using. At least she would own up to what they had done, without regret, without shame.

He began to go on and on about feeling horrible and she felt her heart tearing - how the hell was she supposed to know all of this? She was barely over two decades old - what the hell did she know about anything? She had been treated like a mistake before too. Sure, not by anyone she cared about, but it was for that reason she did not care. Emotion and sex were separate - that's how people kept their hearts safe. Why didn't Declan know any of this?

"How was I supposed to know any of this?" she demanded, her voice squeaking a little, eyes shining. "We're friends, and we had sex. I don't see how those things come into conflict or affect the other! You're still my friend. How did I make fun? It was one night! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

As soon as the word slipped out, she gasped and her hands jumped to her mouth. She did not remember the particulars of that night, but she remembered his confession, and she could not believe she could not have slowed down enough to choose her words more carefully. She had just made a horrible mistake and she knew there was no taking it back.

Her eyes watered as she lowered her hands. "Dec... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that."

Declan would have replied to her question, would have tried to explain that he hadn't meant to care but that he actually did now. Except she had to go and mention what he had confided in her. His eyes widened immediately, and Declan pulled his torso back as though she had swiped at him with some invisible hand and he was ducking out of the way. It took him a moment to reply, and all he could think was how grateful he was for the fact that she didn't try and touch him.

"How the hell did you get like this?" he asked, his voice some strange mix between a hiss and a whisper. "You," he pointed a finger at her as his eyes narrowed, "should know by now that there's a difference between pretending not to care and actually caring for someone. You think you take risks, Dom, but you just do the same things you always have, and that's not going to make you happy. I won't claim I know what will, because I clearly don't know you as well as I thought I did. But I don't think that going on like you are will get you whatever it is that you want. Especially if you want to be serious about someone someday. So just... think about that next time you decide it's great fun to poke knives in old wounds."

Declan hesitated, half wanting to continue, but he was worried he might have gone a bit too far with that one already. So he shifted his weight, then dropped his gaze to the floor as he shook his head. "Just leave it, Dom. You won't have to worry about making the same mistake twice, eh?"

And, really, he should have stayed to listen to whatever explanation she might have tried to offer, but he was positively fuming, and even his shoulders had lifted around his ears. If he had been some cartoon, he probably would have been huffing instead of merely grimacing. Regardless, it seemed more wise for him to leave and keep from saying something he would genuinely regret. He felt bad, to be sure, but at least he had not taken something spoken in confidence to dig into her yet. So he pushed his other hand into his pocket and stepped around her to make his way to the classroom.

She could not be surprised that she had screwed up so horribly. Wasn't that how it went? She was surrounded by siblings and cousins who were all brilliant in their own accord. Writers, Unspeakables, straight A students, born Seekers, born duellers, popular, lovable, clever. But Dom Weasley had nothing, except maybe a sweet face. Even that paled in comparison to the angelic look of her sister Victoire, the dark beauty of her cousin Lily. Dom Weasley wasn't anything more to the family than a royal f*ck up. So why was she at all surprised to have done something that came so naturally to her.

He spoke at her and for once in the conversation, maybe once in her life, she just had nothing to respond with. Never before had someone been so willing to call her out, to call into question whether or not her behavior was normal. The closest someone had ever gotten had been when Nico had gotten tired of waiting for her to abandon the party scene and be his friend again... and she had been forced to say good bye to him, the best friend she had ever had. Roxi had stepped in to fill the void, but Roxi never called Dom out and urged her to better.

Not like Declan was now.

She swallowed, lips quivering, trying to look brave. She managed to steady herself, though her eyes shone brightly and her jaw worked continually to keep any sort of sob from rising out of her throat and into her mouth. And then, just like that, he was gone.

She had f*cked up again. Big surprise.

Christmas came and went. She went to her parents' home, celebrated with siblings, visited cousins at the Burrow, exchanged gifts, and tried to ignore the churning identity crisis in her ribcage. She did not want to give any power to Declan's words, because, if they were true, she was definitely in trouble.

School started and she returned back to the stone prison where the hopes and dreams of children and adults alike went to die. Hogwarts wasn't that bad, but Dom had been realizing that any place that kept people so cooped up for so long was a recipe for disaster.

Oddly enough, she was early for the first feast back. She took her seat, and spots began to fill up around her, until only one empty seat remained. She was so stuck in conversation with Kip Parsons, the Ancient Runes professor, that she didn't realize that fate had arranged the one person to not be early to be the one person who did not want to sit with her.

Declan hadn't expected to come back to Hogwarts right away over break, and although he had spent it quietly - aside from the ridiculous problems with the snow that meant he had to be at the Leaky more than intended - he was actually glad to be getting back to the school. That is, until he remembered who he would find there. Not only was he incredibly unprepared to teach his lectures in the morning, but Declan was running late.

He came in through the doors after the welcome back speech had been given, and passed by the professors Hayes. Declan stopped to greet them, his hand falling to the back of Millie's chair as he offered a cheeky smile along with a completely false excuse. Keiran didn't seem to mind, though, since he just laughed and waved Declan on.

So Declan kept the fairly pleased expression settled on his face until he searched the rest of the table and slowed to a stop, his gaze sweeping back up the other side of the table before he looked back down at where the blonde was sitting. An audible groan escaped, but the chatter of the Great Hall was overwhelming by then, so Declan assumed that Kip couldn't catch it. Reluctantly, he stepped past Dom, preparing himself for a silent dinner. Never again, he promised himself, would he be late. No matter the circumstances.

Sinking into his chair, Declan reached for his drink, grateful that his place quickly sorted itself and provided food for him. His gaze lingered on the students at their tables for a time, but he couldn't stand it much longer, eventually glancing over at Dom. Part of him wanted to know if it was affecting her as well; it felt like the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and it took serious effort to focus on just eating his meal. He wanted to make the brave choice and offer some sort of well-wishing comment about her holidays, but instead, he just attempted a smile (and failed) before dropping his gaze to his plate.

This was, in his opinion, the actual worst.

Kip was using a lot of big words, a lot of complicated phrases, all about very intriguing subjects that she had thoroughly no knowledge about. He was a very interesting man, one of the few intelligent people who did not bore her to death, though she certainly had no interest in Ancient Runes. She was staring at Kip with a fairly blank expression, her brow slightly furrowed, nodding along, though she could not fully invest. Her attention was diverted, however, when Kip glanced up and offered a smile and a wave to some newcomer. Dom turned her head eagerly to greet whoever was joining the table, taking the seat next to her.

It hit her a second before he sat.

He wasn't looking at her so she quickly turned back to Kip, but he was excusing himself and turning to speak with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Dom turned back and stared at her plate, where a generous slice of shephard's pie was waiting for her. She picked up her fork, which felt heavy, and began to pick at the pie.

How was she supposed to talk to someone who had torn her apart? She would be absolutely lying if she didn't admit that his words had stayed with her, stung her. But she could be stronger.

She plopped a bite of the pie in her mouth and chewed the food down, swallowing hard. "Merry Christmas, Declan."

Declan had just lifted his fork to bring the first bite of his dinner to his mouth when Dom spoke. He hadn't been looking at her, but he swallowed and turned to look at her, his expression guarded despite the fact that he felt strangely vulnerable. That wasn't a feeling he was used to anymore, and Declan did not like it. Deep down, though, he knew that was not entirely her fault. He had reacted badly, and for that he truly felt sorry. On that same token, however, Declan was unsure how to handle what she had said and the way she had acted. Perhaps he was being too sentimental or something. He really wasn't sure.

"Um, yeah. You too, Dom," he replied after a moment, nodding and offering a gentle smile. Just talking to her felt good, and Declan realized that he had actually missed her more than he cared to admit after everything. At least, he was proud to say, he could never be the sort to miss the sordid parts instead of the person. It was Dom that he missed, not what they had done (although he wasn't going to suggest that it was bad, to be honesty).

So, after a pause and a realization that he wanted things to not be so awkward, he turned to face her more properly and drew in a big inhale before sighing. "Dom, I don't like this," he explained, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have said all of that, and I know that. But... But neither of us handled it well, so this isn't fully on either one of us. I understand if you're mad at me. But, if I'm being honest, Dom, ...I was furious and I probably would have said anything to get away. I'm not saying it's fair, but I didn't know what to do. This isn't the place to talk about it, I know," he added apologetically, "but... I am sorry, Dom."

She felt him turn to look at her, and she blinked, her head very slowly turning to look at him. She was surprised he was bothering to look at her at all, surprised he was willing to look at her considering what he thought of her. He had treated her like she was a monster or something, had ripped the bubbly exterior and revealed her inner demons, exposed all of her nastiness and called it as such. And that was without proof, without really knowing how horrible she truly was. He didn't know the half of it... and he was willing to look at her?

She struggled to look at herself some days.

She almost wanted to cry again, but she reached out and took a drink of pumpkin juice, swallowing down fear and distaste with the drink. She turned back to her plate and began to scramble the shepherd's pie, trying to be casual, trying to seem okay. Why his opinion mattered anyway... she could not tell. He was just a coworker, and was relatively new to being her friend. She didn't care this much about what her friends thought of her...

He spoke and she tilted her head to look at him. What he was speaking was maturity and wisdom, plain and simple. He spoke in a way she could not even think, for she was governed by emotion rather than logic and clarity. What he said so simply and easily was a conclusion that would have taken her months to come to if she had not been helped. He was putting down his own pride, the fact that he felt himself in the right, and speaking truthfully.

Her heart ached - she wasn't sure she knew how to do that.

Her eyes were shining again, but she blinked the shine away and smiled. "I'm sorry, too. I miss being your friend."

Was she about to cry? Declan tensed, terrified that she might do so in front of everyone and then be all the more upset for it. Glancing about, he noted that some of the students had already finished and were just chatting with their friends. Others had seemingly gone off somewhere, but the hall was as busy as ever. This was not at all the place for the conversation they were trying to have. Or, he was trying to, anyway.

So Declan made a potentially stupid decision and pushed his chair back, rising from his seat to stand next to her. "Come with me," he requested, holding out a hand. An imploring look was sent her way until she agreed to follow him. From there, it was down to the kitchens that they went, Declan holding onto her hand as he led the way. They had not had a proper meal after all, and without the students watching, they probably had more options. He only released her hand to pull out two stools.

Declan, for one, went for a whisky despite the slight worry that crossed his expression upon picking up the glass. It wouldn't go the same way it had last time, but he felt that the liquid courage might do him some good. He waited until Dom requested whatever she was hungry for, then did so himself.

Turning back to the blonde, Declan swallowed hard and allowed his fingers to terrorize his previously-styled hair. "I miss you, too, Dom." It was a bit belated, as far as replies went. But it was honest, and he hoped that counted for something. "I don't usually have friends, and I just-" That sounded rather lame, didn't it? His eyebrows pulled together with the effort of trying to say something intelligent. Excuses weren't really helpful in this case.

"I'm not going to ask that you pretend it didn't happen," he explained. "That is unfair, and it implies that I didn't want it. It wasn't one of us choosing it and the other wanting out. I should not have tried to tell you off like I did. I have no right to judge after what happened. And... I can tell you what went down if you need me to. I won't force any of the heavy stuff on you if you don't want it. But that's an option if you don't understand."

Declan shook his head, then extended his hand palm up, asking silently for Dom to set one of hers atop it. "Dom, I wish it hadn't ended up the way it did. I just don't understand why..." he faltered, afraid of offending her. "Dom, you acted like it was nothing. And maybe it was, but... I guess I didn't expect you to react that way, mostly."

He saved them both - she imagined he was probably the more wary of the public eye of the two of them, but it was a welcome relief nonetheless - by making the executive decision to move on. She rose, dropping her napkin on her plate, and followed. She kept her head raised and her gaze level, hoping that it just looked like two professors who had decided to turn in early. Of course it did not look so innocent, though. Word had spread, they had rowed in the corridors. Declan and Dom could not be discrete if they put bags over their heads. They were items of interest.

They walked in relative silence, the sounds of her lifted boots against the stone, fabric swishing with movement, the general roar of the students fading in the background.

She released his hand as soon as they entered the kitchen, but she almost wished she still had it in her hand. But touch was forbidden, now, because it was what had gotten him so worked up before, and she was not going to be the one to cross that boundary again... not after the accusations he had levied against her.

He set up two stools for them and she sat, sighing as she did so. Elves immediately surrounded her and she asked for some chips, deciding she wasn't very hungry anymore. Their brows furrowed but they went about preparing some chips, and a particularly squeaky elf offered up a mug of Butterbeer, which she immediately took, taking a deep drink - that was one way to lighten the soul, certainly.

Finally, they were sitting, facing each other, and he spoke. She kept her gaze level on him, holding eye contact, trying not to feel with her face. She just needed to take this all in, think before she spoke, before she acted. And, really, she was hearing all good things. Really - in essence. But it began winding down to the meat of their problem and she knew she wasn't going to be able to brush everything away when there was still a major misunderstanding.

"I didn't mean to treat it like it was nothing," she said, looking apologetic. "But, I mean, it's not like it was something, you know? Do you know what happens when you wake up the morning after sleeping with a friend and treat them like it was something, like it was something really important? You lose friends. Sometimes sex is just sex. But that doesn't mean we're not friends."

"Right," Declan replied immediately, pulling back his empty hand and letting it fall onto his leg as though it hadn't been out there. "Yeah, nothing..."

It took a moment, but he cleared his throat. Declan knew he was making a mistake with what he said next, but he genuinely couldn't help it. He was tired. Tired of being the guy who was furious all the time just for the sake of being furious. Just to push people away. Especially people he cared for. Equally, though, he had had enough of pretending not to care. It just made him all the more difficult to understand, and to talk to. Declan knew that. So he didn't care whether or not it screwed things up.

"Actually, Dom," he added, setting his glass down. "No. No, you can stick with your nothing. I don't want nothing. But I'll deal with that. Because I can't deal with whatever you want this to be. I won't. Do you know what happened, Dom? I thought I was dating someone exclusively for a year. I knew, one hundred percent, that I loved her. Then we went dancing, because she thought it would be fun. I proposed, and asked her to move in with me, and she informed me that she had been married the whole time. So I will absolutely not do this." He snapped.

Declan let his elbows rest on the top of the kitchen island, pressing the palms of his hands against his temples as he paused to find his footing again. When he looked up again, the only expression he could manage was one of resignation.

"I don't separate things the way you do. And I don't want to. I'm sick of resenting her. And I don't want to resent anyone else because they remind me of her, or say things that they regret in hindsight. So I can only see two options here. Either we don't bring this up again, and just do the casual hanging out thing, or... or we just start over as two people who work together but don't really talk. ...I am extremely uncomfortable and painfully unsure of things right now, so I really need you to say something or make a decision so I know what you want. I need to know what you want."