Here We Go Again

Chapter 35: The Power of Siblings

POV: Dominique

On the shore of a beautiful, peaceful beach, Mother Nature lived in perfect silence. The swift wind mixed with the flowing of waves, gracefully releasing that aromatic mist of tranquility into the atmosphere. It was such a serene moment that the clouds in the sky could safely assume that the world was finally at peace.

A small cottage stood mighty with magic on the lonesome cliff of the beach. And it was because of that particular cottage and its inhabitants, that the clouds were not fooled by the ocean's calm serenade. When a scream pierced and murdered the silence, seagulls taking off by the sudden commotion, those pesky clouds were satisfied that normality was restored.

"Sit still for a moment, Dominique!"

"Stop it! Unhand me, you beast! Stop!"

"I will not!" Smack. "I'm making you look like a woman! Now keep still or I will murder you!"

Groaning loudly and dramatically, as it is in my nature, I slumped against the chair I was being imprisoned in by my cousin Molly. She yanked a chunk of my long, red locks and reached for that awful, dangerous metal rod from the surface of the vanity table of my bedroom in Shell Cottage.

"There's a spell to curl hair, you know," I bitterly informed her with a huff as I crossed my arms over my chest. "This is a complete waste of time."

Molly tugged at my hair as a means to reprimand me. "Curling your hair with an iron is a form of bonding," she retaliated, "magic is impersonal. We can sit here, share the moment, bask in girl-talk, and remember this moment for the future."

Through my reflection in the vanity mirror, I rolled my eyes and watched as she wrapped a section of my hair around the muggle contraption.

"You know I hate sentimental talk."

"You like to pretend you do," Molly corrected in her authoritative tone she's always owned. "Don't forget you are the one that asked me to do this. You own a wand, Dom—I didn't need to be here for this."

I sighed, frowning at my reflection. "How else would I have been sure you would come if I hadn't recruited you for something so mundane as doing my hair? I was manipulating you, Molls; there's a difference."

"Why must you be so pouty?" she asked instead, dodging the subject that she was still unwilling to face. "You should be ecstatic, Dom. The weather is perfect, everything is set, Uncle Harry is alive, and your dad is in a fantastic mood. It's all happy, happy around here."

I grimaced at the rainbows and unicorns my cousin's last comment made me conjure in my head. "Dad's a total tosser. He's only happy because I'm back home. He acts like he hasn't seen me for years. I've only been living with Rowle for a month."

"Uncle Bill misses you," she, once again, corrected, as if she knew everything in the world. "My dad started singing tunes and dancing with Mum when I came home after moving away."

"Was that after he forgave you for abandoning the family for three years so that you could live as an anonymous, muggle girl?" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could contain them, which was very much one of my major flaws. I never knew when to shut up. I said what I wanted and never really processed whether or not it was an acceptable thing to say. Usually, I found it entertaining to see my mess flabbergast other people, but it was not particularly humorous for me to endure my word-vomit when I hurt the feelings of a person I very much love.

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