Graduation Beyond Naiveté

Dom was digging the pair of them into a hole that she would be incapable to clamber out of. Her eyes were somehow still wide with the innocence of worry and uncertainty, but her eyebrows had drawn together in a concentrated effort to sort out her own rationale. But, as always, this is as far as she could get because... she didn't understand her own rationale. And so was the trouble she always had. A childish spirit, but adult circumstances. She had always managed to laugh away every problem, but she had finally grown old enough that her problems were not to be sent away with mirth.

She thought of Nico, a friend who might have still been in her life was she not such a disappointment. He loved her, loved her sincerely and was a good friend, but even he had been left no choice but to leave when it became evident she was destined to disappoint him at every turn. It was who she was. She had always been so willfully defiant of what was expected of her. No matter how much she loved someone, the second they had her figured out she felt compelled to remind them that she was a puzzle to never be understood.

It was rotten. She was rotten for it. And if she cared about Declan less, she would have had no trepidations in dragging him through such a wreck.

But she had dragged him through that, with the Roxi business. And he had stuck around. And since then she had actually... tried. Despite her certainties of failure, she had worked hard to never give him reason to doubt. And as far as she knew, she had never done so.

Her eyes slid closed and she remembered the hesitant smile she had finally taunted out of his face the night of the Yule Ball. Yule Ball. Huh. And here it was almost Christmas. Had he really been putting up with her for so long?

She wasn't sure Hermione was grasping how much this had to do with no one but herself. Dom, as selfless as she could be with friends, was a fool in that most of her problems revolved around her. Dom had no complaints of Declan. She would certainly deserve for him to fall in love with someone else, to slip into an accidental flirtation, to lose his passion. In fact, internally, it was her stipulation. If they were to take on the obligation of each other's hearts, it could only end with him breaking her own heart. She could not stand for it to be the other way around.

There was enough wisdom in Hermione's words for Dom to know that, of everything, she was right to say clarification needed to come sooner rather than later. And it had to be of the sort that could not be mistaken.

She stood up suddenly, her chair screeching against the ground and almost toppling. She quickly turned and caught it, wincing as she quickly let out a stream of "Sorry! Sorry, so sorry!" Chair righted and wits gathered, Dom turned to look at her aunt. "I, um, thank you. Sorry. My head's a mess, like usual. But I understand what you're, what you- thank you. I needed an outside perspective, I think. I'm going to go... set things right." She exhaled and offered her aunt as bracing a smile as she could.

((Figured you could comment as Hermione and then maybe as Declan to set me up to have Dom drop in on him?))

Although Hermione could think of little to say out loud, and thus merely offered the younger woman a good luck and a good bye, across the country and deep in the heart of London, one Henry Tross had a great deal to say. He had already been put on edge upon seeing Maude with some bloke that looked far too friendly - which, he reminded himself, wouldn't have been a problem were it not for the tosser who had taken advantage of her last time. But then this? Merlin, no.

"Bore da, sleeping beauty."

Declan's eyes clenched more tightly together and Henry frowned. "I said Good Morning, mate. Typically the polite thing to do is to say it back."

It took a moment, but Declan finally sat up, frowning at his best friend. "Yes, hello."

Dec threw back the covers, pushing himself out of bed before he wandered about the room to find clothes to put on for the day. Assuming Henry had come by for breakfast as he so often did, Declan just made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving the door open behind him. A thud and a shuffle of fabrics later, Dec could only assume that Henry had jumped onto his bed.

"You didn't ask how I get in," Henry pointed out.

Toothbrush clenched between his teeth, Declan leaned around the doorway with a lifted eyebrow. Henry was, indeed, lying across the foot of Declan's bed, watching him upside down. "I never do," he replied, tilting his head back to keep any paste from escaping.

"True," Henry conceded. "...You have something on your shirt."

Declan looked down sharply, but found nothing. Glaring at Henry, he shook his head, and the Welshman could only laugh as Dec ducked back inside. As soon as Declan had rinsed his mouth out, Henry spoke again. "So Will told me about what's been happening this week."

Declan knocked his toothbrush against the rim of the sink a couple times before putting it in its slot next to Dom's 'I'm-staying-over-sometimes' one, then left his clothes and instead stepped into the bedroom again.

"Which part?"

"How many parts are there..?"

".....Breakfast?"

Henry's legs were over the end of the couch and carrying him to the double door exit before Declan could even realize it. While Dec had lost most of his quick reflexes, Henry's quidditch years had stuck with him. It brought out a serious scowl from the pub owner and a look of genuine concern from the Ministry department head.

"How many, Dec?"

"..Three?"

Declan stepped around Henry and into the kitchen, where he set about making coffee and breakfast. Four squares of toast, and two full Englishes later, their plates were empty and Declan was downing the last half of his second cup. It had taken that long to explain Anette, to talk about Hermione's party (which Henry had of course been supremely jealous about), and to explain that he missed Dom but was also glad she wasn't around twenty-four-seven to see everything.

Henry, surprisingly, focused on the girl instead of Dom, as he so often liked to.

"You don't know where she is? How could you just let her leave?"

Of course, it took Declan a minute to put those questions together and understand that this was about Anette. "What was I supposed to do? I'm not her family, Henry. I don't even know if she's from around here. Maybe she went back home."

"Why would she, if it's as bad as she says? Hardly sounds like a common thief, though I must say, you'd be easy to trick from the way you tell it."

Declan shrugged. "I know. I don't think she was lying, though."

So he dumped his mug and plate in the sink, watching the last dregs get washed away by the water. And from there they tried to figure out not only what to do about Anette, but also whether or not Declan needed to look through old Prophet articles to find out about her family. What if she didn't have one at all anymore? She had implied as much, but Declan couldn't tell.

And once they failed to come to a conclusion but had exhausted the subject - judging by Declan's expression - Henry reverted back to asking about Dom and the things he was keeping from 'the lady,' since she didn't have an appropriate title, really.

It was the memory problems. The night terrors, or lack of sleep at all when she wasn't there, sometimes. The fact that, for the first time in his life, he'd been afraid when he saw lightning outside his window during a bad storm, making him shutter up and turn the television on too loud.

It was-

A patronus, coming in through the wall? What? oh. Will.

"She's back, Dec. Something's wrong."

And so Declan snatched up his wand, telling Henry he could either come with or get lost, because all this talk was making him feel pathetic. Henry said he'd rather give his not-brother-(but-basically-brother) some time, and took off moments after Declan did.

And so he landed in the Leaky, spinning around when he realized he'd materialized facing the doorway and she wasn't there.

"Dec," Will called out, waving a hand from behind the bar. And then he was at the side of the bar, where the bartenders could go into the back to get things as needed so the wooden bartop ended. And she was standing there, tiny as ever, just crying.

"Oh, Merlin," he muttered, crouching down as his eyebrows pulled together sympathetically. He reached a hand out, just a little, but then took it back as he remembered the last time. She'd held onto him when they'd apparated. Not the other way around. She didn't like it when people reached for her. "Anette? Ant, what's happened, love?"

Her eyes were so wide he thought she might never be able to close them again, but she did. She closed them as she flung herself forward, arms clinging desperately as they circled his neck.

Will stared at him, and Dec could only lift his eyebrows in a sort of shrug-like gesture. And one of his arms curled loosely around her, afraid of scaring her off. But she held on tighter when she noticed, so he gave in and did what he'd wanted to from the start. Both arms held her to him as he stood, pressing his cheek against the side of her head as she buried her face in his shirt collar.

So engrossed with his attempts was Declan that he didn't notice when Dom arrived, had no idea what she had seen or would think. Moreover, he didn't notice when Will gave her a thoroughly confused look and just shook his head, wandering off to a table he needed to greet.

She had apparated home, as though that would help sort her out. Right. Between the mess and the telly she had left on, playing some rubbish sitcom, there was no free space for her to think. She went to her room to find a better jacket, feeling silly having a serious conversation in a red leather jacket and sneakers but one glance into her closet assured her that she was going to feel silly no matter what. So she went into the bathroom, at least looking over her hair which had been blown about in the cold wind.

This was stupid. She didn't want to be at her apartment.

She left her room and her eyes fell on her kitchen table, where books and cutting boards littered the tabletop. She was so happy when she was cooking. She didn't think about whether or not she'd be cooking forever. She just enjoyed it while it was hers, poured everything she could into it, and hoped to be good enough.

She was such an idiot.

She rarely warned Declan she was coming by, having always been one of those plans-what-plans, spontaneous sorts of people, and now was no different. Grabbing her bag and her wand, she apparated just down the street from the Leaky, wanting to give herself the walk there to pull on a less manic expression, and strode through, drawing together a smile as the warmth of the pub drew her in.

Will caught sight of her and she offered a wave and a smile as she made her way towards him, lips parting to ask after Declan. But Will's eyes were moving and Dom's were following and her feet were stopping because she was just so... confused.

"Dec?"

She blinked, a hand reaching up to catch her bangs, as though it were their fault she was seeing things. But the apparition did not change. She stepped forward, face crumpling into confusion and concern, hands flattening on the bartop, a useful barrier for now. "What's happened?"

Was it Ilvermorny all over again? Not more kids under attack, Merlin, not in this lifetime.

The higher in the air he took her, the tighter Anette held on, and Declan wondered if this was what it felt like when your child was hurt and you couldn't stop it. Not that this counted, or that he thought he was ready enough to be good with children. He'd been a rubbish professor and a failed hero, after all. When he tried to sit her on the counter so he could lean back and really look at her - to check for the bruises or anything else he hadn't thought to expect before - she flinched, scooting closer to him.

Dom? What-?

He realized he hadn't said anything out loud, instead holding a hand out to keep her away from Anette. His face went from protective to apologetic, fingertips reaching for her cheek. He mouthed a sorry, shaking his head.

"I don't know, love," he told her gently, pulling away to try and draw Anette out. Into her ear, he asked what had happened. She wasn't really listening, though, because she had finally turned her head to look at Dom. "Ant, this is Dom. Remember, I told you about her. Dom, this is Anette. I met her a few days ago."

Once introductions were out of the way and Ant made no attempt to shake hands or let go of him, Declan sighed a little. "Do you two want to come round to mine? Might be a bit less scary with fewer faces around."

Anette was watching Dom carefully, as though she could size up the woman that Declan had told her so much about. The other Ilvermorny one from the paper. That's how he figured she knew Dom best, at least until the other evening when neither could really sleep.

"I'll tell you what," he added with a smile, realizing belatedly that she'd stopped crying. "I'll make up the couch for you and we'll bake something, us three. How's that sound?"

Ant nodded, finally, and he mirrored her, though his motion was much more firm. "Okay. Give me two minutes, Annie. Tell Will he has to make you a hot chocolate and I'll be back as soon as I change the schedule for tomorrow, okay?"

She didn't look pleased, but accepted it either way. She didn't really know what the schedule thing meant, but that was alright. Weirdly, she trusted him. Stranger yet, Declan knew it and hadn't been scared off yet. So he stepped around the bar and took Dom's hand and encouraged her to walk with him to his office. "I should've asked if you were free before assuming you would come with us. Sorry. But-- You need to get to know her, Dom. I- Something's wrong and I can't figure it out."

He turned to her once they were inside the office, hands moving to her waist. "Stay over tonight. Please? ...She has nightmares and if she actually sleeps this time, -- I don't think I'll know what to do."

She barely made a move towards him and was reproofed by such a quick look from him, forcing her to a halt immediately, her heart squirming with uncertainty. He recognized the effect instantaneously and his features melted into one of sincere apology, and the look of hurt wobbled, trying to find its strength but incapable of throwing the look of confusion. How could she? She was completely out of the loop.

She took a step back, her fingers rubbing together as though desperate to find purchase on something she could do, something she could help with, but there was nothing but to wait for clarity.

Declan admitted to not knowing what was happening and she caught her bottom lip under her teeth, anxiety now coursing through her. He finally disentangled from the child, and Dom felt a strange surge of surprise jolt through her when Declan said her name. Ant? Was that her name? There was something familiar in the way he addressed her, and the look of confusion doubled down, her eyes searching Declan's face for any sort of hints.

She looked towards Will but he seemed to be avoiding her eyes.

She didn't understand. He had met this little girl a few days ago? On what grounds? What had he said about her? Why? Her eyes met the gaze of the little girl, gaunt and thin as she was. A girl who had seen tragedy, who had discussed her.

Dom couldn't agree, it seemed, until Declan had assuaged the little girl, Anette. Dom nodded numbly and followed Declan only because he was firm in his guidance - on her own, she didn't know she would have gathered her wits enough to get her feet moving. He whispered what was supposed to be an explanation in her ear but nothing seemed to stick, didn't compute.

He turned to her, and his eyes were so sincere and so in need. She blinked, nodding again, though words of affirmation could not follow because she simply didn't understand what she was agreeing to. "Dec, if you need me, I'm here. I just- sorry, what's going on? I'm... completely lost. I just saw you Saturday. And now you have a... and now some kid needs your help? I just- what's going on?"

"I know. I know, I'm sorry. I thought about telling you, but I didn't really expect that she would come back. And certainly not like this. But," he added with slight amusement behind his eyes, "I do not have a daughter I never told you about. Or one I didn't know about, for that matter."

It didn't take long for him to come back around to his serious side to finish explaining himself. She needed to know, particularly now with Anette acting the way she was and with her at the bar, waiting on them. He didn't have a guess about what had gone wrong but he knew it had to be terrible to draw that reaction from her.

"At the beginning of the week, one of my employees found her stealing food. He looked like he was going to hit her or something, and he had been a nightmare for a while anyway, so I fired him. But there was something about her, Dom. She's older than she looks, and so clever. She talks about her life like it's all fine, like just being blunt makes it easier. Her brother died at Hogwarts when the werewolves attacked," he explained gently, shaking his head and holding her a bit closer. "Apparently she ran away when her parents handled it really badly. She made it sound like they were gone or something."

"A couple days later she came back, asking for me. And I think she was shocked that I actually showed up to see what she needed. I found out that she doesn't have a place to stay. I - and you don't need to yell at me about it because Henry already did - but I let her stay on the couch. But neither of us really slept so we just talked. She asked about work and my friends and-- I mentioned you."

Declan looked away, out towards the main part of the pub as if he expected Ant to come looking for them. "Whatever happened to her, I can't just leave it."

So he stepped back, changing the schedule for the next day to let his managers know that he wouldn't be in the next day. Declan got the distinct feeling that he wouldn't be ready to come by after whatever happened that night. If nothing else, he needed time to help Ant and try and make things right with Dom, who looked so lost that it just broke his heart. Technically together or not, he had been keeping so many things from her that he shouldn't have. And it was just tiring, now, to be unable to share with anyone. Maddie was right, really. If they were together, it would be necessary for him to share the burden so she wouldn't feel left out. But they weren't, and he had told Hermione as much not long ago. What sort of planets had aligned to cause all of this?

"Dom," he continued once he looked up at her over the desk. "There are... a lot of things I haven't told you because of exams and you being busy. Once we get her to go to sleep, I think we need to talk."

His joke was enough to jostle her out of her tragic look of worry, and tempt a reluctant smile on her lips, though something in her large blue eyes certainly betrayed the fearful state that had overtaken her. Something about the situation had raised alarm bells. This was Declan, after all, who had almost derailed their entire whatever by oversharing his feelings. And now that he had practiced some restraint, she felt so weird.

That was it, she guessed. He had changed. He kept secrets now. Was that her fault? Had she really made him feel like he couldn't tell her something like this? Something he surely could have used her support through? The more he told it, the more she was reminded of how good the man before her was, how generous and kind and selfless. So selfless that he had completely abandoned his own desires for the sake of her weird hang ups. And the moments of frustration she had felt towards him for not challenging her, for not fighting her... how petty of her. This man was not a fighter. He was a protector. The world didn't need more fighters.

She nodded and he stooped over his schedule, quickly sorting it out. He spoke again to her and she nodded again, her voice seemingly absent. A talk. Exactly what she had come for. Perfect.

He turned to leave the office and suddenly her voice found her. "Declan, wait." Her hand reached out to catch his and turn him around, immediately dropping it once he had turned to face her. She searched his face, as though it had the words she wanted to say. But it wasn't speaking she wanted to do.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling him into a tight hug, hands skipping up his bag to grip his shoulders, to hold him tight, to offer him any of his strength, to say the words she seemed so unable to utter.

I'm sorry for what I've done to you.

Declan was preparing to explain that she should avoid reaching towards Ant, since the girl seemed particularly adverse to that - or, well, she had done. He wasn't sure what was going on with that, now. That was why it took him so long to come up with a way to phrase it. Too long, in fact, because he determined that they had already taken a while and that either Will would shoot him an annoyed look, or Anette would when they returned.

Her voice halted him as much as her reach did, and he turned, eyes questioning even as his eyebrows pulled together. She released him but he merely tilted his head to the side, drawing it left to right once as he tried to determine what she wanted.

"Dom?"

She stepped forward and although he stared over her head at the desk with wide eyes, he held her to his chest without question. Whatever had just flicked through her mind, it worried him. But at the same time, they didn't have much time. He still didn't know what was wrong with Anette. So he needed to make sure that Dom was good to help.

"It isn't as bad as all that, I promise. I've just had some problems lately that I need your help with. Okay? We'll sort it out. Always do, it seems." He dipped his chin so he could plant a kiss on the top of her head. "But there's a little girl out there who was crying her eyes out before you got here. We need to get her home."

Declan drew back to look at her, still a little confused by her sudden choice to cling to him. "Or, you know, to the flat." He shrugged, laughing a little bit at himself for the slip. "C'mon."

He took her hand and led her out, closing the door behind them. Anette was waiting for them with surprising patience, but he supposed that he wasn't allowed to be surprised when he hardly knew her. And so far, she hadn't really seemed like the sort of girl to get worked up over nothing. Waiting was just waiting. But the thing that had brought her here? Now that must have really been something.

"Come on, then! Let's head off. Thanks, Will," he added over his shoulder as he came up alongside Anette. Declan grinned at the fake salute he was given, holding a hand out to Ant. "What should we make?"

"Something chocolate," she decided immediately.

Glancing at Dom, he couldn't believe how much he wanted to laugh. "At least one of us is decisive, hm? Less trouble for you, love."

"This is Dom?" Ant interrupted, leaning to the side on her bar stool to look at the blonde curiously. He just nodded as her gaze drifted to their hands where they were clasped together. "She's quieter than you said."

With a smirk rapidly forming, Declan helped her down from the stool so she could hold on properly as they left. But just before he turned, he gave Dom's hand a squeeze. "Trust me, Ant. You'll see soon enough."

Almost as soon as they had landed in the flat, Ant had let go to take off her coat, and Declan was still trying to tamper down his amusement. It was just great, really, to have Dom there and to know that they were going to talk about what had been happening. She wouldn't be in the dark anymore, and they were helping this little girl who had nowhere else to turn, it seemed. It all seemed quite wonderful. So he kissed the back of Dom's hand before letting go and walking over to the kitchen as he too divested himself of his winter outerwear.

"Chocolate, you said."

"Yep."

"Well, we could do... a cake. Or - Oh, look. Apparently I have mint chips. We could do brownies with those in."

"That sounds good."

"Alright, how about you help Dom get us started while I fix up the couch for you?"

Anette shrugged, leaning around the end of the bar to look at Dom again. "Sure."

Declan stepped around her, careful not to brush her as he went, and gave Dom a reassuring smile and nod as he went into the bedroom to get the extra pillows and blankets. Once he was out of sight, Ant stepped around and looked up at Dom with a serious expression. "I've never cooked before." Then, pointing towards the kitchen, "Do you know how to...?"

He didn't understand. That was okay. She wasn't sure she did fully, either, but she knew with certainty that she wanted to draw close to him, wanted to feel like they were on the same team again. She remembered those stolen moments on the ferry, fear thumping through her chest, this horrible anticipation of the worst and yet... Declan's hand in hers, his gaze steady on the horizon. With their odds stacked against them, they forged ahead into what both was certain would be a horrible failure (which proved true and false). Having him on her side changed her entire perspective. And maybe that was all she had ever needed. A change of perspective.

She didn't respond to his assurances, having nothing more to add, only nodding at his reminder that the little girl on the other side of the door needed their help. She stepped away and she could sense his uncertainty but he was right - they had another task at hand. All of this could settle, could become an undercurrent. She could wait. The girl - Ant? - could not.

She followed him out and tried to summon an expression of calm. The look of mild panic had probably done little to ingratiate herself to the little stray. Now that Dom had calmed her own nerves, she could take in the dire circumstances of the girl. Something grungey about her, and certainly not enough meat on her bones - Molly Weasley the first would have had an absolute fit. She grinned at the girl's suggestion, always keen on chocolate.

And suddenly, the girl was regarding her, and Dom's eyes widened and she turned into a ball of insecurity again. Was that an insult? Had Declan been complaining about her talkative nature? The wide eyes turned to Declan but his mirth was enough to remind her of her own ability to self depreciate and find the funny in any situation.

"It's nice to meet you, Anette."

And so soon they were in Declan's flat, a place of comfort for the blonde. Her visits had become less frequent and she often found herself longing for the comfort of a kitchen broken in by another chef, for the scent of Declan on the fabrics, for the comfy sofa in front of the television where they often tangled up to watch football.

Dom, too, slipped off her leather jacket and hung it up, drifting towards the kitchen to find her apron. She straigthened up meet Declan's gaze and then turned around to face the little girl, alone with her.

"Here," she said, handing her one of the aprons that rarely got much action, as she began to tie her own on. "About a year ago, I had never cooked either - I mean, besides burning toast and following instructions on cheesey noodles. But that's really all it is - instructions. And some pizzazz if you're feeling zesty." She wiggled her shoulders a bit. Dom had always been handed off young children at parties and get togethers. Her personality made her very relatable to the little creatures.

"Sometimes I get a little lazy," she said, waving her wand. The cupboards and fridge opened, and the ingredients began to line themselves up on the counters, as well as a pan, a bowl, and a mixing spoon.

She began to measure out some of the more precise of ingredients, instructing Ant on how much of the flour and cocoa. Finally, they were all dumped into a bowl and Dom handed the duty of mixing to Ant while she preheated the ovens and put away the ingredients. "We'll pull the brownies out a bit before they finish cooking and sprinkle the mint chips on top. I like adding them that way you get these nice little chunks of minty chocolate."

She watched Ant mix and busied herself with wiping down counters. "Do you mind me asking how you are, Ant? Er, Anette? Or is Ant what you prefer to go by?"

Declan returned to the living area quietly, careful not to disrupt whatever bonding - or, at the least, friend-making - was going on in the kitchen. Anette was staring, wide-eyed, as things flew from cabinets and settled on the counter as though they hadn't just danced through the air because Dom asked them to. He had wondered - on more than one occasion - whether or not she had any magical ability, but the right time to ask had never come up. Surely she wouldn't have been wandering about in the Leaky without it? Muggles didn't exactly wander in very regularly.

He'd finished spreading out a layer of sheets and then setting down the folded blankets and a couple of pillows, but they were still working. And he couldn't bring himself to interrupt them.

Ant, unsurprisingly, was quite blunt with her reply. "Well, I think Declan likes to call me Annie but my friends call me Ant. I'm not really bothered either way, though."

At that, he couldn't really resist. Coming around the end of the counter, he leaned against one of the drawers as Dom approached the clean the surfaces. His fingers found her arm for a moment and his expression was one of thanks, but Ant hadn't answered the question. "Do you want to talk about what happened? I never thought I'd see you upset like that."

Something about the tilt of her head and the way her fingers reached to tug on her hair suggested that she hadn't anticipated it either. "I don't know."

Her eyes flicked between the two of them and Declan let his disappointment show for just a moment before he reigned himself in. "I'd like to help if I can. But you know I can't do that unless you tell me how. It doesn't have to be right away, but you can trust us, Ant. I realize that may not be easy, but we're your friends, if you'll have us."

And although he felt a bit bad about presuming for Dom, he got the feeling that she wouldn't turn away a child, but moreover that Anette wouldn't see fit to talk about it when Dom was around if she didn't think it was alright.

"Just... tell us if you're okay. Or, at least mostly okay."

She nodded a little at that. "Mostly, yeah."

Declan nodded, reluctant to drop the subject despite clearly knowing better. But something had to change because the brownies needed time, and standing there staring at her until she caved or panicked or whatever else just wouldn't do.

"Well," he said, attempting to lift his tone to something more bright. "Shall we see about holiday films? Or did you want to do some drawing? I can get you some more paper if you want."


[ooc: Feel free to jump to her falling asleep if you want. It'd probably be 'oddly early' in his opinion, but given the day's stress and all.. *shrug* Whatever works.]