Dedicated to Anna for the beautiful banner and her sweet words-what would I do without her?
And a very happy brithday to Lily Evans, who pulled off the red hair oh so well. James Potter fell for it, and countless boys after him. I think Dominique and the other Weasley girls know what their doing.
Chapter Five
Hollow Bones
When Dom was little, her father used to take care of her when she was sick. Fleur couldn’t stand any sort of sickness or injury, but when she had fallen asleep she would sing to Dom to her, voice lilting in French and soft; rivers and wind, sending Dom off to a dream land were her prince awaited and the grass was green. Although Dom loved to listen to her mother sing, her father had always sang Dom to sleep. His voice was deep and rich, soothing in the way it promised peace and comfort; she always fell asleep easier with Bill’s large hand rubbing her back and voice carrying her off to adventure.
As Dom leaned over the toilet, she wished her father could be there to hold her hair back and rub the spot between her shoulder blades. Her stomach seemed to be sloshing with acid, not milk and a few bites of porridge; Dom’s throat felt like someone had stuck shards of glass like they might on top of a wall to keep out unwanted visitors. Somehow there was no thrill in throwing up anymore, any feeling of accomplishment or high or super human sensation.
Dom just felt empty.
Opening her eyes, the now familiar slick of blood came back on her hand when she wiped it, and the toilet water went red as she flushed. Looking in the mirror, Dom once again wondered why she was given the face she had, and Victoire was given the face she had. Was there a reason Dom wasn’t skinny or beautiful and covered in freckles?
“What did I ever do to you?” she asked her reflection, but it didn’t reply.
~*~*~*~
Sometimes a question hit Ben straight on, and it took him a while to figure it out. Such as, do old people get sad sometimes? Or, do girls ever just want to hit guys over the head? Maybe birds didn’t always have hollow bones. Why does his brain go to mush whenever he smells Dom’s cherry blossom perfume?
As he walked down the stairs to one night, a complicated question on his mind, Ben as surprised to see Dom sitting on one of the couches, feet tucked beneath her and staring into the fire.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked softly, sitting on the other end of couch.
Nodding, Dom didn’t take her eyes of the flame “To much on my mind.”
“I know what you mean.” Ben snuck a glance at her, surprised to see how her face seemed twisted in concentration-what was she trying to suppress?
They sat in silence, not a word spoken; sometimes Ben wondered if all the things that he wished he could have said rung in his silence.
“Do you ever wonder if you’ve done something to deserve the life you have?” asked Dom, tilting her head to the side and raising one hand.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t even really know,” she said softly, flexing her fingers “Why do I have freckles? Why are you good at flying? Why do any of us even exist at all?”
Ben wasn’t sure what to say, so he settled on “I like your freckles.”
She looked at him sharply, translucent eyes burning with shadows and flames; Ben could see himself in them, his hair sticking up in the back. Suddenly he wished he weren’t wearing his old blue robe, maybe his Quidditch uniform instead-it always gave him confidence.
“Don’t lie.” She said bluntly. “No one likes freckles.”
“I do,” he said, pinching her fingers gently in his own and laying her palm on his, so her fingers rested on his wrist. Tracing the spangled freckles, he didn’t look Dom in the eye; just focused on how the freckles made patterns in his sleepy, fire lit haze. “No one has the same patterns…yours, the ones on your wrist, are like…like a loosely woven bracelet.”
Looking up, he saw Dom had her head tilted and was staring at him in wonder, as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“They’re beautiful.” His voice was barely a whisper as he traced them up her bare arm; goose bumps rising were his fingers had brushed.
His fingers ran over her shoulder and along the ridges of her breast bones, then up her neck and across her cheeks. Her skin was a pale sky, the freckles stars guiding him along the earth; if he just read their code properly, knew what was up and what was down, maybe they could meet halfway.
“Don’t lie.” She said again, voice breathy and eyes wide as they glanced from his.
Somehow they had gotten very close, and Ben let both his hands trace the constellations of Dom’s face. Something about the lucidity of her eyes and pallid skin, the freckles and her bird like body made his heart pound and body hum.
One of his hands tangled in the back of her curls, and Ben let his lips barely brush her jaw-he had no idea what he as doing, but Dom was frozen beneath his fingertips and something inside him just knew what to do.
“I would never like to you, Dominique. Never.” His voice was low and husky, and Dom shivered “I think you’re beautiful.”
Dom let her eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of Ben’s fingers knotting in her hair, how his fingers brushed her skin with such care-as if she were so delicate she could shatter if he was anything but temperate.
The fire had died down, the wind outside continued to howl and Dominique’s body shuddered beneath the exquisite trailing tips of Ben’s fingers. To Dom it felt as if she were a bird, stripped of her feathers and hollow bones vibrating with the knowledge that Ben thought she was beautiful. The word –beautiful-slipped through her like warm honey, slow and warm and soothing; she could feel it accenting every curve and kink of her being.
Sharp edges melted into soft flowing ways of moonlight, fingers turned to wind sweeping the hurt from the floor to reveal smooth marble and reflecting the sky; stars laying a path for them to follow. Pools of Sistine blue, melted drops of silver spread across a glass floor; to stare into those eyes and let yourself float, feel the waters hold you up and carry you away.
Fingers entwined like ivy, foreheads resting against each other and hands tracing freckles with such care. Nothing happened, yet everything did; it as was so hard to let go, to leave and to separate back to bed.
Dom dreamt of flying, bones hollow; Ben dreamt of following a path of freckles, Dominique waiting at the end.
Weeks passed, snow fell and no words were spoken of the night Ben called Dominique beautiful. Life carried on as it had, and soon the students prepared to return home for the holidays.
The days had passed slowly, Dom holding the word beautiful with her every moment. She didn’t really believe what Ben had said, on some level knowing she wasn’t quiet there yet-though those few words he’d whispered to her meant everything.
The carriages pulled by invisible beings brought the students down to the platform. Snow swirled down from the sky, catching in Dominique’s ginger lashes and fiery curls; Ben watched as she twirled; arms out and tried to catch snowflakes on the tip of her tongue.
Felicity joined in, and soon students from all years were twirling by the platform, trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues; Ben watched Dominique. Sometimes he could picture her as a bird, bones hollow and body covered in fiery feathers, belly and underside of her wings snow white-her eyes would be so pale, the sky would reflect perfectly in them as she flew from earth, leaving him on the ground.
As they filed onto the train, Ben, Dom and Felicity headed to their usual compartment. The ride was going smoothly, friends visited and they shared food, though Dom only nibbled, and snow fell heavily outside the window. The journey was coming to a close however when Dom and Ben found themselves alone in the compartment.
It was then Ben decided to do something drastic.
“Dom?” he asked, hesitating only a little.
Looking up from her book, Dom smiled across the compartment at him “Yeah?”
“I think…I have something I want to say.”
Putting her book down, Dom stretched her legs out along the seat and crossed her ankles. Her smile slipped as she saw he serious set of Ben’s jaw “Okay.”
Clearing his throat, Ben leaned forward and rubbed the back of his neck nervously; he had to tread carefully around this subject. He knew if he said the wrong thing then Dom would get mad and he would be shunned forever-and if he ever wanted to kiss her again, angering her wasn’t the way to go about it.
“Dominique, we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Since we were five; you, Fellie and I. At that wedding.” Supplied Dom, smiling slightly.
“Yeah, Luna’s wedding.” Ben remembered every moment of that day perfectly. Dom had been wearing a long green dress that shimmered purple in certain lights, her hair already long and tumbling down her back. He couldn’t remember exactly what he himself had been wearing or more about Felicity other than she wore pink, but the first words Dom ever said to him still made him smile.
“Hey, want to hear a secret?”
“And in twelve years, we’ve been through a lot and I-”
‘Have fallen so deeply, spontaneously in love with you I don’t even know how to breathe when you smile.’
“-have come to care a lot about you, and I can’t just sit around and-”
‘Not say what’s on my mind. I’ve always wanted to tell you how much I love the way you stick your tongue out when you study, or dance when your happy and sing when you think no one is listening.’
“-watch you destroy yourself.” His face grim, not portraying the words that tumbled inside him, Ben looked Dom in the eyes and begged her silently to listen “You’re not okay, Dominique. What you’re doing…you barely eat, and it’s killing me and Felicity to watch you waste away. You’re sick, Dominique, and I can’t let someone I lo-care about kill themselves while I’m forced to watch.”
Eyes flashing, Dominique stood, hands clenched by her sides; her fingernails dug into the flesh of her palms, drawing blood. “How dare you!” she hissed “You dare you say such things-I am not sick, I am not wasting away.”
“Dominique, please-” he reached for her hand, finally gathering the courage, but she yanked it away.
‘Please don’t ever go, because every time you leave I wonder if I’ll ever manage to convince you to stay.’
“And you, Benjamin Wood,” she said fiercely, eyes blazing and hands shaking with anger or fatigue, neither knew “Are no longer my best friend, so don’t bother coming around this week-or ever again.”
Eyes burning with tears, Dominique fled the compartment, leaving Ben alone. He stood in the middle of the compartment, watching the door slide shut with a bang. Ben wished he knew what he’d done wrong, how to make it better…how he wished he had a time turner.
Sinking into one of the seats, Ben held his head in his hands as he watched the sun play tricks on his eyes-for a moment he swore he heard a sob coming through the walls, but knew it was just his imagination. Dominique would have gotten as far away from him as possible, flying easily with her fiery feathers and hollow bones.
Shell Cottage had been Dominique’s home all her life, and though Hogwarts was her favourite place in the world, the Burrow her second, Shell Cottage was the third. Snow piled up around the cottage, perched on the dunes over the beach; the beach itself was frosty, strands of grass dead beneath the piles of snow.
Trudging up the icy path, Dominique and Louie followed Bill into the house; Fleur had stayed home to finish supper. When the door opened and an icy wind blew in, the first thing Dom saw was her sister standing in the hall, arms open and dark blue eyes shining.
“Dom!”
“Vic?” she cried as they embraced, gold and red hair tumbling together, straight strands tangling with curls. “You said you wouldn’t be home until tomorrow!”
“I know!” beamed Victoire, pulling away and looking at her little sister; she was surprised to be able to feel Dom’s spine beneath her fingers as the hugged, how her shoulder blades were sharp against her arms and collar bones pressing against her painfully as they hugged.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Vicky, there’s so much I want to tell you and-oh Merlin I missed you so much!” Dom laughed and hugged Victoire again, not seeing the distress in her sister’s eyes.
“Dom, are you okay, you look-”
“Dominique, Louie!” Fleur cried, rushing into the entrance way from the kitchen and embracing her children.
“I thought you were making dinner, Mum.” Louie said, grinning at her. Fleur was just as beautiful as the day she married, and really Bill had always done the majority of the cooking; her silvery hair shone and dark blue eyes sparkled as she kissed each of her children on both cheeks. She was also dressed much to nicely for cooking; her light pink blouse was silky and flowing, hair piled up on her head in a bun and black skirt long and swishing against the ground as she walked, her heels clicking.
“Oh, Teddy fineeshed it for me; such fine young man, don’t you theenk, Victoire?” Fleur’s French accent had faded over the years, but it still blended with a bit of British once and a while.
Victoire giggled and Teddy, who appeared from the kitchen wearing a bright pink apron with ‘Kiss le Cook’ written on it, pulled her close, kissing her temple. “Yes Mum, I think he’s wonderful. I am marrying him, after all.”
“Yes, yes, we know darling. Now come, Teddy has fixed all my meestakes and supper with bee lovely.” Fleur ushered them into the dining room, were the family sat and enjoyed the fish Fleur had burned and Teddy then fixed.
Dom pushed her food around, trying to enjoy being home and surrounded by her siblings and parents, but with each miniscule bight she took pained her. She hadn’t eaten a full meal in weeks; she couldn’t start now-not when she was so close to becoming perfect.
Managing to hide a bit of her food in a napkin and taking teensy tiny bights between sips of water, Dom refused dessert and said she was very tired. The family had always eaten late, and giving out excuses of a migraine, Dom rushed up to the third floor and into the bathroom she shared with Victoire.
Shutting the door, Dom turned the key and guzzled the glass of milk she’d brought up with her; leaning on her knees and sticking her fingers down her throat, Dom threw up.
She threw up until she couldn’t hear her sister and mother’s tinkling laughter.
Until all she could hear was the sound of the waves crashing on the icy beach.
Dominique threw up until she could throw up no more, and then continued, because she wanted the disgusting feeling in her to go away.
~*~*~*~
Soft light came from the floating orbs dancing about Dom’s ceiling, casting shadows as she read her book. It as an old volume, a favourite from her childhood; the Wizard of Oz still held magic for her, even when she knew all about real magic. When she was a kid, she would pretend to go down the yellow brick road-once her Uncle Harry showed her the movie, and her mother had made her a blue dress just like Dorothy’s and sparkly red shoes. She never did get a dog named Toto, though.
The dress still hung in her closet, tiny and faded.
A soft knock came at her door, and Dominique looked up as Victoire poked her head in. The sister’s looked at each other silently, and Victoire tiptoed across the floor and sat beside her. Tilting her head to the side, Dom let her head rest on her sister’s shoulder; somehow it made her feel better.
“I missed you.” Whispered Victoire, catching a ruby curl in her fingertips. The pale blue walls around them turned violet as the orbs changed colour, the old tiffany rainbow lamp on the desk suddenly beginning to spin; the room was a whirl of colour.
“I missed you, too.”
Shifting on the bed, Victoire looked at her little sister. How many times had she longed to look like she did, with auburn curls and light blue eyes-she was even envious of her freckles. Sure, she had the sort of in-your-face beauty that dazed people, but Dominique…her beauty snuck up on you, and once you saw it you couldn’t take you eyes off of her. Sometimes Victoire worried Dom didn’t see it, see the flits of jealously in Victoire’s eyes and realizes just how beautiful she really was.
“Are you okay, sis?” she asked, dark blue eyes trying to catch Dom’s light ones. “I mean really okay, not just relatively. Is it…is it a boy?”
“No, definitely not.” Scoffed Dom, putting her book aside and lying on her back. The sisters easily fit together on the double bed, and Victoire lay down, too.
No words passed between them for a few minuets as they watched the curved silver moon spin from Dom’s ceiling; it mimicked the real moon outside, and tonight a small silver girl sat in the bottom curve, dangling a small fishing rod and swinging her bare feet in the air.
“You can tell me anything, Dom.” Said Victoire quietly, grasping her sister’s hand in hers tightly-so much was said in that simple gesture, and yet Dom couldn’t bring herself to tell Victoire everything.
“You’re going to be so happy, Victoire.” She whispered instead, keeping her secrets and sins and shameful acts tucked away inside, under lock and key deep in her mind. “I know you will be.”
“We’ll be happy, Dominique.” Victoire watched the colours dapple the ceiling, pretending for a moment that she was a little girl again and the ring on her left hand was just dress up. “You’ll be so happy that one day, all this…this life and these hardships will seem like a dream, a simple, blurry dream.”
A/N: I know I was supposed to update EOA...but I had to write this down.
Question: Just general thoughts on Ben, Dom and the story...yeah. Also, new cover! WHat do you think?
Rose<3