The newest batch of Hogwarts students have entered this historic school and no one knows how their future will turn out - will you be a quidditch pro or maybe a prefect? The year is now 2021, and now it's time for the next generation to make their mark. The newest batch of Hogwarts students have entered this historic school and no one knows how their future will turn out - and that is where the fun begins.
The plot will be determined by the characters of the site as of now - future plots will change as these forces weigh in on the Wizarding World, and we see where these characters take us. So join in and let your character make their mark!
Minimum word count is 200.
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Mar 30, 2018 14:07:36 GMT
Dominique Weasley didn't know which professor's idea it was to have a Valentine's Dance on the evening of a school night, but she was entirely sure that she was going to hunt them down and kill them. Well - she paused, as she considered this - maybe not kill them, but perhaps do some serious bodily harm. Maybe destroy some of their property? she wasn't actually sure yet. All of it was a bad idea, but as another wave of nausea hit her and made her stomach roll, all Dom could do was rage at the fact she wasn't actually laid in bed when she felt this bad. Taking a deep breath through her nose, and then exhaling shakily through her mouth, Dom clutched the nearest wall to her in the corridor and came to a stop. She'd been on her way back to the dormitory anyway, but it was taking her longer than it should to reach there. She probably should have admitted defeat earlier in the day and just gone straight to the Hospital Wing, but she'd been reassured earlier in the day that it was just the remnants of the potion just working its way out of her body, and there wasn't much that could be done except to rest up and maybe have something to settle her stomach as she slept.
As mortifying as last night and the ensuing morning had been, there had been something in Dom that refused to stop and mull over it - there were classes to go to and things to do, and she wasn't going to let this potion ruin any more of her week. It hadn't affected anyone else this badly as far as she was aware - the Hospital Wing had had a few complaints, but Dom got the impression that a few of them were just hangovers masked as a bad reaction to the punch to avoid class. But Dom had been one of the unfortunate ones, and the nausea that had just began to set in in the early hours of the morning had only got worse as she tried to fight through the day on basically no sleep. She'd had to give up, eventually, as much as she loathed it, and she'd been fighting her way up to the dorm ever since Professor Morris took one look at her with his own tired eyes and said, "Weasley - go to bed. I'm a sympathy vomiter, and I literally refuse to do that today in front of a group of people."
Just a little breather, she thought to herself as she slid down the wall to sit on the floor of the hallway. Five minutes, and I'll get up. Only one flight of stairs left.
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on Apr 7, 2018 5:08:09 GMT
The professors at Hogwarts, according to Miles’ gay dads, were far more progressive in modern times than they ever were during their times. His Ben bashed and dragged all of them who knows how many times. The only one he maintained contact with was Flitwick. His dad was generally more understanding, kept up contacts with a bunch of people. Was probably the reason his Ben was even elected anything. At any rate, he was living for this stuff. He was half dying of laughter. He had gone to the dance with the vague plan of making sure that Charles didn't accidentally push Dom to commit homicide. Without him. How on earth was he supposed to be ride or die if she got herself thrown into prison? Of course, his dad would take her on as a client and argue, likely correctly, insanity. Because Nott drove her mad. And maybe Miles was also going to make sure that Evadne Fitzy had fun, too. But that was before the potion. He spent the rest of the time trying to do rollicking damage control.
He was outright offended no one had fallen in love with him. For six minutes and thirty-three seconds. Then he was thankful because the entire concept of a love potion was terrifying. The concept of someone completely falling in love based on what? Who you saw first? Maybe making him inhale something awful, like their hair or their toenails? So disgusting. Wizards could be so gross. For all he knew, he could have been a muggleborn. Something that plagued him because muggle stuff was fascinating - their culture utterly blew his mind. The point was, he had his friends to look over and make sure were fine. Last night, when he dropped them off, they seemed to have been okay. Nothing that some sleep wasn’t going to be able to cure. He did, however, feel awful that his friends had been so affected. As if years at Hogwarts hadn’t taught them better than to trust whatever was in the punch bowl. He knew none of them were exactly screaming examples of party kids. Actually, considering this was Dom, she was on the opposite spectrum of partier.
He had been making his way back towards the Ravenclaw dorms after class. He hadn’t done his homework and he’d been one of the first ones out of the door. He might not have been suffering any hangovers like a nice chunk of the Slytherin and Gryffindors, but that didn’t mean he’d wanted to stay and listen to another lecture about how it was his last year and he needed to apply himself. He applied himself plenty - to other events. He’d been searching for some gif to perfectly reflect his thought process when a hext from his Best ½. That is to say, Dom. Miles supposed the fearless Weasley leader should have counted her blessings that he loved her because he doubled his speed, taking two stairs at a time. The problem was that Hogwarts was massive and the seventh floor wasn’t exactly the most telling of places. He felt bad for it. He did, really. Nothing sucked more than people yelling when you were in pain. “Dom!” He shouted, cupping his mouth. “Groan pathetically if you can hear me!”
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Apr 8, 2018 12:18:52 GMT
The floor was nice. It was nice, and steady and cool - and so was the was the wall. Dom liked the wall as well - leaning back against it meant the world was spinning a lot less violently, and in general she felt like she could get on board with that. Less spinning and less stomach churning - her newest and noblest cause, because nobody deserved this. Dom let her eyes fall closed and leant her head back against the cool stone, enjoying the way it was soothing against her skin. She was probably a pathetic sight, sat there somewhat crumpled on the floor, and usually she'd hate to be in public like this. Well - even now there was a small part of her that was cringing at being this indisposed in public, but in the emptiness of the hallway, and with how exhausted she felt, Dom also couldn't bring herself to care all too much. She sighed a little to herself again, and moved her head slightly as she settled more comfortably.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she felt a buzz come from one of the inside pockets of her robes - she blinked a little deliriously, and fumbled around until her Quiv was in hand, and she was looking down at three consecutive hexts from Miles. Frowning slightly, she opened up the conversation and her eyes narrowed a little as she read through it because - huh - apparently she'd sent a message to Miles while she'd been sat here. And she should probably be able to remember that. Hm. Thankfully, Miles' response was one that she hadn't realised she'd been waiting for: i'm omw. And if she had the energy to roll her eyes at the next hext, she would have done because Miles should know that Dom didn't think about things like spiked punch. Well - she supposed from today she was going to start thinking about it a lot more, because actually now that she was starting to think about it, adding potions to drinks like that is really messed up, because the people drinking it haven't given any sort of consent to how it's going to effect their bodies -
Dom's mental tangent was finally interrupted by Miles' arrival some way off - apparently after looking at her Quiv she'd let her eyes fall closed again without realising it, so with a lot of effort she cracked them open again when she heard his voice down the hallway. "I'm here," she replied as loudly as she could muster. She wasn't sure where 'here' was, but Miles was just going to have to suck it up and find her, because she wasn't in the best place to try and move herself towards his voice. "Why would I be suspicious of punch?" she complained. "It's punch. Who thinks about punch?" She would be a lot more eloquent in her argument, but she couldn't give her usual Dom Weasley energy to her speech when she was sat on the floor of the Seventh Floor corridor.
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on Apr 25, 2018 18:20:00 GMT
Given the amount of students that had fallen victim to the love potion, he really couldn’t blame his best friends for not knowing any better. He really couldn’t, but he also wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t tease them about it later. Like when they weren’t feeling like they were shoved into a muggle blender with some fruit and turned into a smoothie. Which, actually, would probably be a good option for Dom if she was feeling sick. He’d try to remember that after he managed to get her into one of the towers - either hers or his. Right now, he had to focus on the very important task of actually finding that stubborn redhead. It was only because she was feeling sick that he wasn’t going to make a bigger deal out of the fact that he had no idea where she was. Also, it was because it was an invasion of privacy that he didn’t suggest they install some sort of app to track her. He settled, instead, for finding her the old fashioned way. Like some sort of old archaic investigator.
Admittedly, this was probably much easier than doing any actual sort of impertinent work. Because she could call out and following the sound of her familiar voice was basically enough to zero in on where she was. Dom was also small enough she was easy to carry on his back. He just had to make her promise that she wasn’t going to puke all over him. He hummed and consulted his phone again, although there was no reply. Not even an emoji telling him what direction he would be better off going in. He thought about sending her another text, especially when it was that he heard a faint voice that sounded a lot like hers. So, Miles Phillip would be exactly the third person to admit how philosophical and lost in his head he could get. Third because he would argue, and begrudgingly admit defeat, that it wasn’t all the time and that there were worst people than him. Like his Ben. And also his best friend. Because if anyone else had a tendency to get to high up into her britches, it was his bomb dot dom.
He ran a hand through his hair and picked a direction. He had about a fifty-fifty shot of picking the right direction, and then a forty-sixty percent chance of getting lost because Hogwarts liked to pick and choose. Move things around until he found himself in exactly an unfamiliar location. Learned all he could about it and promptly never found it again. That was just this ridiculously thought out castle. He found the odd lump of a familiar shape crumpled on the floor and resisted the urge to snort. “Literally everyone thinks about the punch, what are you talking about?” He laughed. Because he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t crack up. Maybe it was true that Dommy was likely to get lost in her head; to try to believe the best in people. It was one of the things that they most had in common, but it was just a little naive of her to think that the punch wouldn’t be the first think to spike. “It’s a game, honestly. To see who could spike the punch first without getting caught. It was just unlucky that Peeves won.”
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on May 7, 2018 20:43:55 GMT
The longer time went on the angrier Dom was starting to get about this whole situation. If she hadn't been so exhausted when she'd come to and realised what had happened, she would have been immediately furious in the typical way that her somewhat fiery temper demanded. She was known for her unfortunate 'flare ups' at this point, and that was putting it politely. She didn't like losing her temper - she didn't, honestly, no matter what some people might say. It made her feel weak and that it gave people reason to invalidate her opinions as being hysterical - but she just couldn't help it, when it came down to it. Dom was the sort of person that when she felt something, it was an all-consuming feeling that couldn't be ignored and overtook her entirely. She was a girl that was always at her maximum capacity of feeling, and never anything less, and that was just how she functioned. It was strange then, to have felt this bubbling up in her over the course of the day. But the fact of the matter was, she was even more exhausted now than she was earlier, so frankly all of this rage was going to have to wait for a more convenient time. Though even then, her on-brand unimpressed voice and determined frown was still making an appearance no matter how bad she felt.
From what she could gather, Miles was finally getting closer to her, and whatever part of Dom that might have been stressed about how she was going to actually move to lay somewhere that wasn't a stone slab, finally settled. If there was anyone in her life that she felt like she could depend on for anything, it was Miles, and she knew no matter how much of a roasting he might give her over it, he would never not do his best to get her out of any bad situation. So - he might make fun of her along the way, but she at least knew there was going to be a bed somewhere at the end of it. It spoke to their friendship that no matter how ridiculous her hext to him had been, he'd still come to her right away. She'd have to thank him properly when she was better. But for now -
"It was a school sanctioned event not a - " she broke off to look for the words. " - romp in the Hufflepuff Common Room. There were teachers for crying out loud, isn't it their job to watch out for stuff like this?" She sighed and finally she lifted her head high enough to take a look at her friend for the first time. She cracked her eyes open a little pathetically, and she had no doubt that she looked like an absolute state from where Miles was stood next to her looking down. She took one look at his amused face and tried her best to scowl, even just a little. "This is why I don't do parties in term time. Or ever, I guess, anymore. I'm never drinking punch again." It took a lot of energy to say all of this, so after a moment, she just let all the fight leave her. She frowned. "Please help me somewhere I can lay down that's not on the floor of a hallway." Again she'd be more embarrassed at looking this pathetic but 1) tired, and 2) it was Miles.
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on May 17, 2018 21:53:46 GMT
Seriously, for someone who knew a lot about all of the good things in the world, Dom should educate herself some more on all the bad things. To combat it. Or purely for the sake of knowing. Hogwarts had an entire underground; one that he occasionally dabbled in. If for no other reason than to know about it. Blah, blah, something philosophically wise about knowledge being power, or whatever. There was always one punch bowl at the parties that were spiked with alcohol or the likes. It really was just unfortunate that Peeves had decided to use something much more devastating than alcohol to students - love potions with zero thought out targets. The chaos of everything was just as destructive as intended marks. Maybe he would put forth the effort of introducing his friends to some of the more obvious underground tricks. Maybe he should also ask their fearless leader if she had heard anything from the youngest member of their trio. First and foremost because he had been the only one of the three not to have taken any of the punch. That and he theorized that he was one of seventeen members of Ravenclaw that sagely stayed away from any spiked drink, both love potion and whatever the hell it was that the Slytherins concocted in their overly dreary dungeon.
As if they had never heard of interior decorators and rebranding. He was twenty-five percent assured that Charles had taken some of the love potion and twelve percent convinced that she had something else in her system. Why else would she had gone anywhere alone with James Potter? Arguably the most distasteful of the Potters. Seriously, why couldn’t they all be like Lily? Or like Dom. He’d probably like Dom’s family more if they were more like her. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t get along with her excessive amount of family. It was just that they were that. Excessive. You could turn your head one way and had a high chance of having an eye catch a Weasley. Or a Krum. Or a Potter. Someone tied to the family. He knew that, but that didn’t mean Miles expected it yesterday. Not with Charles. Blech. He had to steer the conversation away from Lottie, lest he spill everything without getting the full story. Not that he thought he wanted the full story. Or even an eighth of it. It was enough to know Charlie didn’t make the best decisions.
The whole friendship thing with boy Nott generally proved it, but seeing her and Potter together really just cemented it. “Oh, you mean like Professor Laffy Taffy and the like? As if they weren’t preoccupied themselves? Bonus points to those who manage to take down some professors. And the visiting dude, too.” He rolled his eyes, kneeling down. He couldn’t even begin to question why a hot shot like Rosier-Rowle even doing at a Hogwarts shindig. He might have asked the man himself...equipped with some sort of sarcastically charming witticism to boot. If only he hadn’t had his hands full...and still full. “Bah. Like you’re going to have to avoid that for much longer. You’ll just have to go to mind numbingly boring social parties with me, like the Corporate Relations dinner.” He shuddered at the thought. One would think that when Ben Fawcett-Vance quit the whole Ministry thing, he would quit forcing his spouse and child to attend such events. One would think wrong. “You need to build up a tolerance to this stuff. Seriously, always escaping to my dorm during the Gryffindor ragers did you zero favor. Your hand milady in distress or are you going to make me literally have to pull you on my back?”
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on May 27, 2018 18:05:06 GMT
Dom would have been more sympathetic upon hearing that their teachers had shared similar unfortunate incidents the previous evening if she didn't feel as crap as she currently did. A Dom who was sick was not a generally sympathetic Dom - it was probably one of her only true selfish states, and it made her all around a bit pathetic and useless as she moped about how bad she felt. All of this negative feeling was naturally exacerbated by the fact that she got annoyed at her body for betraying her, and sad about how useless she was when she was sick as she thought about how much stuff she could be getting done if she wasn't completely bedridden. All in all, this self-pity cycle made Dominique Weasley a less than friendly presence to be around when she was under the weather. Any person who put up with her in this overly dramatic state should really be praised more often than they were.
See: Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance.
"I barely noticed anyone else there," Dom grumbled. "I could have been the only one affected by it for all the attention I paid to other people. I was a little...pre-occupied." Her cheeks involuntarily tinged a little pink at that last part - though for how terrible she felt she wasn't sure that her flush couldn't be attributed to something else. But Miles could read her like a book, and was more than likely to note her embarrassment. Especially considering they were talking about last night aka the night that she fell in love with their other best friend. There's no way for either of them to forget that in a hurry. She pressed on anyway. "And if you think Lottie's going to let us get away with not going to parties just because we're out of Hogwarts, you're kidding yourself." She grimaced slightly, as she pushed herself up a bit to sit straighter against the wall. Talking a little more was bringing her back to reality, and slumping on the floor like she was wasn't going to do her any favours. "If anything it's just going to get worse with no teachers to stop anyone. Merlin knows what James is going to get up to, le connard."
And despite herself, she couldn't help but smile at Miles then, as he knelt before her, all snarky and blasé as he was. She was glad he was here. "And you know I don't mind those dinners too much. I like having the opportunity to call those corporate types 'mindless cogs of an oppressive machine' to their faces." She never had been one to keep her opinion to herself, even if it was a little too heated for polite dinner chat and schmoozing. As he offered her his help (finally, the ill and mopey part of her brain grumbled), she weighed up her options. If she could have got away with getting to her dorm herself, she would have done, so ideally all she'd need was a hand up off the floor and a push in the right direction. Realistically however, she knew that her energy levels might require a piggyback, as undignified as that might be. She decided to settle on something in between. "A hand up and a body to lean on would be ideal, thank you," she said, as she shuffled forward and held her hand out to be helped up. "And on the way you can catch me up with everything that I apparently missed last night in my potion haze."
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on Jun 20, 2018 20:48:25 GMT
The part of Miles that occasionally indulged in mind-altering...whatevers was genuinely annoyed that he hadn’t partaken in the potion. He imagined it would have been an experience. Then again, he wasn’t inclined to be as messed up as many of the other individuals. Still, his brain wouldn’t leave the problem alone. He could only wonder who he would have been smitten with - who he would have found to be the center of his world. If it would only be one person or if the potion would adapt to who had taken it. That was always something he wanted to experiment with and explore further, but then there were important things like human rights that had to be taken into account that made it easy to ignore. There were just so many students crammed into that Great Hall. It seemed statistically implausible that all of his friends seemingly managed to collectively lose their minds over each other. It seemed almost impossible that the potion didn’t just tap into something underlying - emotions that were, perhaps, already there. Just not enhanced enough to explore. Perhaps it would be something he visited with them honestly when it wasn’t so fresh.
When the color on Dom’s face did not match her hair. When he could forget that he saw Bundle-of-Lots with both Nott and Potter. He didn’t begrudge either boy anything, really. He had no ill will towards them. In his effort to annoy Dom, Nott only succeeded to bother him as much as the next fellow. James he got along with marginally better. Enough that it annoyed his Ben that his son was friends with James Potter’s grandson. “You weren’t the only one preoccupied and you weren’t the only one acting out of character.” He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. Dom probably couldn’t see him, but Miles genuinely felt like there needed to be a well-timed eye roll regardless of who could see. “The important part is that we get to enjoy an entire year of being away from Hogwarts parties. Maybe we can drag her to meetings with like minded individuals who don’t want to talk about who snogged who.” Like he did not want to talk about. Like he did not want to think about. Which is why he was for a changing of topic.
He did not want to be the one to tell Dom about the actions of their third best friend. He’d send Charlie incredibly gif-fted encrypted hexts that disliked being the keeper of his knowledge. It was honestly the part that bothered him most about seeing the whole Potter-Charles fiasco was that he as so against having the knowledge. That he honestly would have prefered to be ignorant. “The same cogs who fancy themselves enlightened. How do the muggles say it? Woke. Just because their practices aren’t as awful as their muggle counterparts.” Miles liked the way Dom didn’t shy away from talking. The fact that her parents were well known gave her enough of a voice to use; a freedom that he did not have. Dom and he were of a radical mindset - if only because the radicals were those with basic human decency. “Sure,” he shrugged. “I can do that.” He got back up and braced his legs to pull her up to her feet. “Just tell me if we’re going too fast, if you’re seconds from throwing up, if you’re about to fall over. It helps neither of us if all your weight suddenly shifts too far over.” He thought about what would interest Dom the most - something that did not involve incriminating facts about Charlie. “I mean, what’s to say? Too many people drank the punch and fell in some semblance of love.”
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Jun 26, 2018 13:11:29 GMT
It was a relief at least to know that she wasn't the only one who had...made a scene at the dance, so to speak. It hadn't even been just among their group of friends who'd been affected by the mysterious potion-spiked punch - the whole school seemed to have been affected in some way. Because of that, it hopefully meant that people had paid barely any attention to her actions, with so much happening on around them. As far as she could remember, James had already been drawing interest before any of the Potion shenanigans had gone down and from what she could tell he hadn't even drunk any of the damn punch. It was one of those times that Dom felt strangely thankful that Hogwarts parties were as ridiculous as they were - she was hopeful that not too many heads had been turned her way, and even if they had they probably wouldn't have been focussed on her for long. It wouldn't be all too long before the next ridiculous social event happened, and the rumour mill had found its next bit of gossip to obsess over. She grimaced all the same though - she wouldn't call it an entirely comforting thought to know that even more people had had their emotions dictated to them by a potion without their consent.
If anything was comforting though, it was talk of their future. So much possibility - so much potential of people outside these limited walls. "Oh Merlin, imagine that," she said. "People who want to talk about actual politics rather than school politics." Her eyes flashed determinedly. "We need to agree to use this time wisely and introduce her to people who are the anti-Notts of the world." And as much as Dom knew that their friend had hoped for some miraculous turn around last night between her and Nott, it really hadn't happened. Frankly, she knew it would never have happened anyway, even if that had managed to spend some semblance of time together amongst all the mess, and she wasn't sure when she was going to have to put her foot down trying to humour it (though honestly, Dom's effort at 'humouring' the situation had been pitiful at best). Dom was kind of hoping that once they were out of school, they'd drift apart naturally - she just wanted good things for Charlotte, and he was not it.
When he held out his hand to her, she grabbed at it thankfully, and together with Miles to anchor her, they were able to get Dom upright and standing. "You're a saint," she said, and couldn't help but lean in to his side a little as she took her first step. She was eager to be out of the hallway and be in a bed, but she knew that it wouldn't be an easy ride to get there if her previous effort to travel through the castle was any indication. "Also let's not talk about throwing up right now - I'm trying to breathe through it, and thinking about it will not help." As if on cue, her stomach churned unhelpfully, and she let out a deep breath through her mouth in an effort to fight back the roll of nausea. Thankfully the moment seemed to have passed, and she was happy to keep on moving along, as slow as her shuffling may be. Talking about something other than how she was feeling was a good enough distraction as any to get her to keep going without thinking on it too much. "Weren't you on some kind of date there?" she asked, looking up at him questioningly. "How did that end up with the craziness going on?"
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on Jul 3, 2018 19:16:52 GMT
Miles was Miles. One third of an aspiring trio wanting to change the world. Blah, blah, blah a whole thing that was somehow poetic about leaving the world a better place than they had left it. With more access to information or something. He was the one who had hella random information that was all seemingly useless when he acquired it, but useful when out of hand conversations were to be had. He tried his hardest to be the brains of the group. Who tried his hardest never to present a front that invited emotional conversations. He understood them. Felt them. He wasn’t as robotic as his Ben, after all. Emotions confused him only as often as the confused every other teenager. It’s just that it wasn’t his thing. It wasn’t what he was known for. It wasn’t what he wanted to be known for. Dominique Weasley was just like him, in that sense. Sometimes his redheaded friend was even more emotionally stunted than he was. He would never say that to her face...in such a public setting. Had said it privately when it was just the two of them. Probably teased it back and forth with Charlie St. Bad Decisions whenever the trio was together.
Long-Needed-To-Provide-Explanations, actually, was the competent one. Which made what she did so much worse. And how the hell was Miles supposed to keep it a secret? For how long was he expected to hold onto this bomb? He wanted to get ahold of the emotionally qualified, younger student. It was what he normally did, whenever people had the audacity to ask him for advice. He stared blankly and passed along her name and occasionally, if he could be sure that they weren’t all creepy, her quiv info. “Real politics is boring.” He said, mostly to get a rise out of her. To get her to focus on something else besides the very real possibility of whatever was inside her stomach ending up on his shoes. “It’s too easy to predict exactly how everything is going to turn out. How people are going to view things. What motivates. It’s all the same. Money. Power. Information.” He still laughed at her. Because Dom was very single-minded sometimes; as if Nate Nott was the biggest of their problems. Merlin, his brain was back on the problem. If Potter had pissed her off all those months ago with the Quidditch thing, this was going to be catastrophic.
Maybe he would suggest to his dad that spend a fun little trip abroad, family styles. “I hope you mean you. I’ll get you into these parties, but I’m so tired of schmoozing.” It was why Dom was the literal face of everything that they ever did. Because she had that leadership. She inspired others. She actually wanted to be the spokesperson. Gross. It was all so gross. “I’m a sinner.” He snorted, rolling his eyes. Probably. He had gone to the whole thing with only the best intentions in mind, but it wasn’t what ended up happening. TO be fair, only the very few gifted could have seen what was coming, and even then they hadn’t. “I meant to go make sure that none of you got into trouble, and I stumbled upon a pretty Fitzy. I didn’t have a date and you both did, so I figured why the hell not go together? Then it all went to shit.” If Miles had been more romantic, he would have asked a certain Hufflepuff if he had any plans. Maybe he even would have asked Lucy, if he knew whether or not she had a date. As it were, he was going to stay as far away from the Weasley clan as Dom needed him to.
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Jul 20, 2018 12:38:33 GMT
There were some people that would say Dominique Weasley was intolerant. She'd once overhead someone snipe that whoever was near her better not have a differing opinion to her or her glare would 'turn them to dust'. She'd bristled at that, and only a distracting conversation with Lottie had turned her away and stopped her from marching over there and potentially proving their point. But it wasn't true - not really. Sure she had a bit of a reputation for being argumentative and rising to bait - and yes, she had strong opinions that she felt compelled to stand by at all times (what exactly was the point in believing in something if you weren't willing to commit to it?) - but all of this wasn't to say that she couldn't get along with people who challenged her. You only needed to look as far as one of her best friends to know that that wasn't true. You could call many things but a 'yes-man' was not one of them. He was not the sort of person who would just blindly agree to mollify her, and she liked that about him.
She peered up at Miles from under her brow, something akin to determination etched into her features. "Predictable, sure - but when it's all held up by corrupt systems, it's only ever going to breed the same kind of greed. And what's boring about standing up to that?" She smiled then, because what indeed could be better than dedicating yourself to a cause as noble as that? "Besides," she continued, "it's not about what's interesting, it's about what's right and just."
And still, they limped on, Dom keeping them at a frustratingly slow pace. But even so, she was immensely glad of the company (on top of the fact that he was the only thing that was currently keeping her semi-upright). And even if they were still talking about the dance - aka, the reason she couldn't make it back to her own bed without aid in the first place - it didn't really matter what they were talking about. Dom was always happier in Miles' company, and in conversation with him. "Well I wish I had gone with you now," she confessed, grumbling a little. "I know you make fun of us, but me and Lottie clearly need someone else around to tell us not to drink the punch." She swallowed a little. "So - uh - sorry if that ruined your date, or anything." He'd never mentioned any interest in Evadne Fitzgerald, but for all she knew he could have just kept it to himself - she and Miles weren't exactly the type of friends who talked about that sort of thing all too often. And honestly, Dom was comfortable keeping it that way for now - thinking of Miles romantically involved with anyone was frankly as disturbing as she found listening about the love lives of her brother and cousins.
She leant into his arm a little as she paused then, thinking about what other way she could add more to that to make it a better apology, without making it more awkward. She wasn't sure there was a way, but she pushed on. "Is she...okay?" she asked slowly. "I, er, wasn't really thinking about anyone other than Lottie. Well - I was raging about her and Nott, but I don't think I really needed a potion for that." She grimaced, as her mind flitted back to the image of Lottie draping herself over him, and the weird sort of jealousy that had overcome her - even just thinking back on it made her feel uncomfortable.
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on Jul 20, 2018 19:14:47 GMT
Dom’s political views always made him smile. That had been one of the driving forces behind his last breakup, although he doubted that was something Dominique had paid attention to. Perhaps she was aware of there being a relationship, but all of his romantic entanglements were colored by the strength of his friendships. It was a wonder his Ben pushed so pointedly that the leader of their trio would be his perfect partner. Or, rather, Dom would be near his female counterpart. His Ben had even said, on occasion, that she would have made one hell of a case for reincarnation if he was dead. Which did little to inspire Miles to feel anything for his friend but the textbook definition of best friend. Probably a third dad. Actually, that left an avenue for more nicknames. Nicknames he couldn't call his real dad's because they would roll with it and make him call them by those nicknames in public. His Ben was such...His Dad's drove him crazy. Not because they were stereotypical and had rules for him. A little because they didn't. Because the teenaged boy was given a little too much freedom.
His shorter friend was much more….what was the world? Need there be a word to describe just how she was? No. Incomplete sentences felt enough to get his point. Besides, it wasn't like someone could read what was going on in his head. Perfect. Dom Estelle Weasleyheimer Schmidt was sometimes too much more. End thought. “I do enjoy your protests signs. And passionate speeches. And a good pot luck for a better cause. And seeing the ridiculous looks on the faces of politicians who are as quick to dismiss us as to accept bribes.” She had a point and Miles were less contrary of a person, he would have conceded. The problem was he was exactly as contrary as he was and couldn't resist continuing to tease her. Make it to where his G.I Political Barbie didn't think about blowing her gi tract. Ahaha. Why couldn't more people hear the commentary in his head? “So if the cause is simultaneously interesting, right and just what do we consider it? A bonus? Intentional? Who decides what cause demands immediate attention?”
That was always the problem, wasn't it? If they were young, did that mean that they needed to focus on the problems currently facing them? Did they need to focus on that which would concern them, early approaching adulthood? Could they feasibly make those who so easily cast them aside acknowledge their work and effort? Why was it that he always had so many questions when locked in his mind and seemingly all the answers when others asked them of him? “I meant to walk out with Argus or a little after and got distracted.” He apologized. Not necessarily because he was too sorry, but because he was. It was a learning experience for her and Miles could never bring himself to regret learning moments, but this one hadn't just physically affected her. Argus had disappeared and, truth be told, he hadn't really wanted to go. Not enough to justify the effort and present himself as a willing participant when Dom did need a date, but enough in the aftermath that made him skip steps. “I should probably find or hext Fitzy and make sure she's fine. With a joke that I could have kept Argus or Lottie or both busy if she wanted a moment with you.”
That wasn't quite fair and Miles was moving slow enough to reflect and regret. But giving that he hadn't said it to Fitzy and the living personification of a insert-whatever movement was currently clinging to him for balance. “I think so? It was a kind of date, but not romantic. I don't think Fitzy could tolerate me in a relationship. The people I actually wanted to ask went stag and...well, details.” He got that panicky feeling in his stomach that told him he was veering too close to a personal conversation that would involve telling Dom that he wanted to snog her one of her little cousins senseless and that he was fifty-six percent certain that she would welcome it. That was almost worse than telling her that...well. Actually. Wasn't that technically what Lottie did? Only it wasn't a high probability. She straight up had bad intentions for Potter. Blech. No. He wasn't going there. “I got her to the common room. Made sure you didn't kill Nott. Found Lottie. Decided she was capable of making her own decisions and retreated to make sure all of Ravenclaw survived.”
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Aug 20, 2018 14:41:00 GMT
There probably weren't a lot of people in Hogwarts that could say that they found talking about politics comforting - in fact, that was probably a phenomenon that wasn't entirely limited to Hogwarts. Dominique was definitely unique in that way - there was something about a good debate that got her energy and spirit up. She couldn't really help it, she just always allowed herself to get so invested in it all that now instinctively when she could feel Miles begin to tease the beginnings of a discussion out of her, she felt some of her old familiar strength come back to her. For a minute, she forgot that she was limping down a hallway clinging to her best friend to keep her standing, as her mind focussed in completely on the topic at hand. "Sure - a bonus, why not?" she said, frowning, but not unhappily as she considered Miles' stance. "But I find anything that is just is also interesting, so that's kind of irrelevant for me." She continued more thoughtfully. "That's why we have the democracy of the group, though - it's the group will to bring forward and choose what we all consider timely and important projects, rather than just following one person's understanding. People have bias, sure, but the numbers of the group can more effectively spread our time and energy wisely -"
She was about to take a breath to continue her speech, when she was hit all of a sudden with a wave of nausea and slight breathlessness, which made her come back to herself a little. There'd been a minute there where she'd almost let her mind and mouth run away with her, and she hadn't let her body catch up - using up all of what little energy she had on debate was probably not ideal, as much as she wanted to continue this discussion and as useful as it had been to distract her from her illness. She'd have to table it for later - but at least Miles had tried. He really knew how to distract her. She came to a bit of a halt as she gulped a breath and tried to come back to the present a little bit. "Sorry," she murmured after a second, willing the heaving in her stomach to pass. "I think I got a bit too excited there for a minute." She looked up and around, and they'd made it to the end of the hallway, so at least she felt like this was an appropriate moment to have a little breather.
She considered as she stood, what he'd said about the dance. Though she was still a little bit mortified at the idea of having to discuss with the younger Ravenclaw herself how she was, because it meant having to face the idea that there had been romantic feelings between them for even a second - it would be nice to hear that the girl was okay, all the same. Dom was simultaneously surprised and not that Miles hadn't really followed up with her. It hadn't even been a full day since it had happened, but then Dom had always assumed that Miles was a little more...on it (? Is that the phrase she was looking for?) when it came to dating and things. She wasn't really sure why she thought that - he had been the one that had to ask whether him and Dom were dating in fourth year - but she didn't really think about these things all too much to question where that assumption had come from. Fact was she hadn't even guessed that he might like anyone enough to ask them to a dance - and just that little small aside about 'people he actually wanted to ask'. It made her pause, for a moment.
Did he want to...? Say anything about it? Probably not, otherwise he would have elaborated on more than just 'details'. And Dom was really okay with not knowing. More than okay, in fact. Romance, as was incredibly evident from the past twenty four hours, was not her forte, and neither was talking about it with other people. Miles was fine. If he wanted to tell her, he'd tell her, like they always told each other stuff without fear of reproval. "Well I'll be happy to put the whole night behind me," Dom said, with a sense of finality. "If we could never think or talk about it again, I think that would probably be for the best."
Post by Miles Phillip Fawcett-Vance on Mar 4, 2019 22:23:32 GMT
Dominique was so cute. In the sense that he knew she was very likely to throw up on his shoes at any moment. These weren’t his good shoes, thank Merlin. (Not that he particularly cares about having good shoes. Miles was just as likely to head to class in any of his roommates’ shoes or in his socks if he was running late and knew that Dom was going to prepare some sort of speech for him about how he needed to be responsible or…something. Something that was uniquely in the voice of his best friend. If he ever allowed himself to feel truly guilty, there might be a nagging feeling about getting her so worked up to the point where she might heave. Then again…he had gotten her mind off how awful she felt, didn’t he? He was a saint. He didn’t see Charles anywhere around making sure that Dom could make it to her dorm without collapsing somewhere in the hall, ready to be the unwilling victim of some horrible quiv pictures. (Miles would never do that, but he would be so tempted to snap a picture for himself to keep as maybe her profile picture. He would get a kick out of it every time that she called him and it popped up on his screen.
But that was also rude and he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t somehow get a hold of his quiv and delete it. The tragedy of having the picture and having lost it was enough to keep him from doing it. That and because he’d have to leave her on her own long enough to reach for his quiv. He was pretty sure she was going to topple over and that would make him feel bad. Actually, he so reflexably thought about Charles that he forgot that he was actively trying not to think about their third. Miles could keep a secret if he needed to. But he didn’t know if this was supposed to be a secret and he didn’t want to be the one to tell Dom that her cousin and her best friend were going to sha- “Urgh,” he burped, shaking his head. Gross. Gross. Gross. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about what Pot-Head Extraordinary-in-not-being-Extraordinary was doing to Char-Lots-of-Bad-Decisions. “Sorry. I think the thought of you spewing all over the floor was too much for me to handle.” Which was not at all true because he didn’t normally have a queasy stomach.
“I’m good now! You?” And he didn’t want to slut-shame one of his best friends. He wanted her to go out and enjoy her life and he would never tell her who she could and could not sleep with, but also he felt like someone needed to tell her that she was making bad decisions because Pot-Master-of-Drugs was not a good decision. And he was saying that as someone who appreciated how handsome the dude was, aesthetically. The kind of handsome that made you take a second look, but not a third because you could kind of see how much of a mess you’d be getting. Telling Chow-Could-You-Do-This-To-Me-I’m-Such-A-Good-Friend-I-Didn’t-Ask-For-This that her decisions were less than idea was not on his brand. Not that Miles tried hard to do anything ‘on brand’, but it was very much Dom’s brand and if she were feeling better and not about to collapse on him…he’d probably tell her. Because if there was one person in the world that he didn’t like to lie to or do a semblance of a lie via the omission of truth, it was his G.I. Magidoll. “I want you to know that we are going to talk about it. But later. Not today. I need to process things first and then we’re going to have a very lengthy and uncomfortable conversation that neither of us really want to have but need to because Things Happened Last Night That Warrant Discussion, Dommy-Dear.”
And saying that would open the door for Char-Lots-of-Discussions-Need-To-Happen to have these talks with Dom because it was not going to be a good conversation if he had to be the one to tell her. Besides, he trusted them both. He figured…if he had a hard time keeping anything from Dom, Charles probably did…too. Right? Made sense.
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Mar 15, 2019 23:39:18 GMT
Really it was reaching a point where Dom was going to have to realise that there was no dignity to be saved here in this situation. She was clinging onto her friend and nearly puking in the middle of a school hallway - she thought back on Professor's Morris' words earlier and could only be thankful that class still seemed to be in session and other students weren't filling up the halls yet to see her in this state. And like - look - theoretically she knew that there was nothing to be that embarrassed about, because people get sick, and vomiting happens, but in high school even the smallest of things get blown way out of proportion, and you could never really know what could set off the Hogwarts gossip chain and get people talking down about you. And if people were talking about her, Dominique would much rather it be for something that actually mattered - and that's what was stupid about everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours! It was all crap! Vapid school drama nonsense! Why people could be so occupied over such pointless things and yet were completely happy to ignore the stuff she did with WFABW felt like something she could never come to understand.
She let her eyes fall closed and huffed a little under her breath in frustration. There was no point losing what little energy she had over an argument she was having with herself in her head. The unfortunate side effect of being Dom Weasley was just that as an individual she expended a lot of energy - which is fine normally, when she constantly found things to re-energise herself with, but spelled terrible things when she was ill. If she wasn't careful, the true force of Pathetic and Moody Sick Dom was about to start making a re-appearance, and Miles didn't really deserve to be on the end of that when he'd helped her out like this. Still, she couldn't help it entirely. "I hate this," she said miserably, as she bent over and leant on her knees, waiting the churning sensation in her stomach to subside. She took a few deep breaths in through her nose, and exhaled through her mouth, just like her Dad had taught her when she first got sea-sick. Merlin, that would be good, wouldn't it? Just floating off into the ocean and not having to deal with whatever all of this was?
And yeah, maybe Pathetic Dom was actually setting in properly now.
"No, not good," she moaned. She chanced a look up at him next to her, and from her angle he was looking down at her with something close to discomfort etched into his features. Was this comforting? Maybe. The fact that there were apparently still things to be said about the dance made her feel the same way in all honesty. When did they have to become friends who talked frankly about things? Could this night just lie, untouched and unthought about ever again? "Well it's going to be a short conversation, because I have very few thoughts to share on it except, 'No'," she said, her voice bordering on petulance. "I don't deserve this. Dances are stupid. Remind me to never let me think they're a good idea ever again. I do stupid things like drink the punch." She squinted her eyes at him. "Can I blame you for thinking that leaving me alone was a good idea?" And yes, she was conveniently ignoring that she was the one who'd asked to go with Barbary, thanks for asking. And was she abandoning all moral principle she had about being an independent woman who didn't need a man's opinion on what she decided to do? Debatable - but even healthy Dom would point out that Miles was Miles, and he was one of the only people in the world she'd ever listen to. Gender didn't really factor when it was Miles - their levels of co-dependence tended to transcend gendered expectation.
She was getting off track.
She blinked up at him then with wide, tired, and patently pathetic eyes.
"Are we far away from a bed? I think I need to sleep now."