Dedicated to Lauren for the beautiful banner-thanks luv, you're so wonderful!

Chapter Six

Seeing

            Hills spread out in every direction, and snow fell in drifts around them. The Delacour-Weasley family walked through the gate towards the Burrow, glowing from within, laughter drifting out into the chilly air. Inside Molly and Arthur Weasley had all their children and grandchildren, along with a few close friends, packed in. The small cottages they’d built when they realized there would never be enough room were full as well, a cottage for each couple and a few more for guests, children filling up the rooms.

“Bill!” Molly opened the door of the Burrow and hugged her son, then his wife and each child in turn, including Teddy. “Come in, come in all of you! My goodness Teddy, don’t you look like the happiest man on earth? And Victoire, my darling-look at that exquisite ring! Louis, I swear you’re getting taller each time I see you! Such a handsome young man.” When she saw Dominique, her face portrayed distress, but Molly Weasley had always been good at putting on a happy and brave face for he loved ones. “Dominique, love…you’re looking very skinny; why, you’re thinner than my wand!”

“Don’t be silly Gran,” Dom said, embracing her “I’m fine.”

“You always are,” patting her granddaughter’s cheek, Molly ushered the family into the living room, which was nearly bursting already. Usually Dominique would be hanging out with Victoire, but she was with Teddy and some of their aunts and uncles; she would talk with Molly or Fred, but they were fifteen and although all the cousins all got along fabulously, Dom didn’t really feel like talking to them. Really, she just wanted to spend as much time as possible with Victoire, but her sister was slowly growing up in a way Dom couldn’t connect with.

“Here Dominique, have one.” Her Uncle Charlie said, handing her a flute of champagne “Your Dad said you’re old enough now, and who doesn’t like a little fun on Christmas Eve, eh?”

“Thanks Uncle Charlie, but I’m okay.”

“C’mon Dom, you don’t have to drink it all; maybe you’ll lighten up a bit.” Although Charlie had been deemed the black sheep of the family a long time ago, he had always been Dom’s favourite uncle; something about hiding up in the mountains with dragons seemed so mysterious and romantic. “Is school getting you down?” he asked, sitting beside her on the stairs. Below them the party was going full out, platters of cookies and pastries floating through the air and music playing, kids running around and adults just a little tipsy.

“Not school, no.”

“Boys?”

Dom let out a laugh “Yes, but in the way you’re thinking. My best friend, Ben…he’s just not acting like himself.”

“What do you mean?”

Sipping her champagne, Dom shrugged “He and my other best friend, Felicity, they’re both just…they keep on worrying about me when I don’t need to be worried about.”

“You don’t need to be worried about?” asked Charlie, looking at his niece. She was beautiful, with that orangey red hair, pale eyes and constellations of freckles; although she looked very skinny. The dress she wore seemed to hang of her shoulders, the delicate folds of blue barely holding her together.

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?” Charlie wasn’t surprised to see Dominique turn to him, eyes flashing icy blue “No need to get defensive love, I’m only asking. Now really think for a second, do you need to be worried about?”

Looking down, Dom thought of how her friends looked at her. The blood. The way her finger broke last week, as if it were a pencil-the pain at fixing it herself to avoid going back to Madam Pomfrey. But then there was the fat, the freckles; the looks she got from boys and the way Victoire wore that little black bikini.

No, she didn’t need to be worried about.

“Do you?” asked Charlie again.

“No, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Standing, Charlie smoothed back her curls and kissed the top of her head “Sometimes the outside world sees us differently that we see ourselves, Dominique. And sometimes we just have to see that.”

Sitting on the stairs, alone, her family having a good time below, Dominique wondered if she wasn’t seeing herself properly. But then she thought again, and knew she didn’t need to be worried about. She was fine.

‘I’m fine.’

            The Weasley’s were crowded around a table that started in the kitchen, and then wove around a bit into the hall and the living room. Molly was bustling about, piling food on everyone’s plate and shouting over the noise for everyone to eat.

Squished in between Luna Lovegood and her Uncle Percy, Dominique cut her food into very tiny pieces, shoving it around her plate and drinking sips of water with each minuscule bight. Christmas dinner had always been her favourite meal of the year, but now all she could think of was how much weight she would gain if she even ate a little of her grandmother’s famous pumpkin pie. Or the treacle tart, or the pile of cream puffs and profiteroles and meat pies and jelly and aspic and turkey and mashed potatoes and Christmas oranges or the pile of chocolate she’d received in her stocking, the mounds of after eight mints, brownies, pie, cake, cookies.

Dom wanted to eat it all.

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

Every last bite.

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

Who cares if it would take forever to barf it all up-

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

-or how much it will hurt!

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

It would taste so good after starving herself for weeks-months even.

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

Maybe just a small bite…

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

The smallest of small bights, then she would stop. No harm in it.

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

No harm at all…she would jus barf it all up later…

‘Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Don’t eat.’

That’s why, in the early hours of the morning, Dom sneaked out of the room she was sharing with Victoire and Molly, wrapping her house coat around her and walking down the stairs (skipping the steps she knew were creaky) and stuffed her face.

She took a whole box of after eight mints; Yorkshire pudding cold; a bowel of gravy; a mound of cookies, cakes, brownies and small pies; ice cream; chocolate sauce; the last of the profiteroles and cream puffs; and a whole jar of maraschino cherries.

Wearing an old cloak meant for visitors, Dominique ate it all behind the broom shed. Every last bight went down, in between swigs of milk or champagne. When it was all gone, Dominique felt as if she were going to explode.

Sticking her fingers down her throat, she gagged until it all came up. The cake and pies and oranges and cherries went into the bushes, a disgusting mess made by her stupid need to eat until she couldn’t eat anymore, and then eat more anyway. When Dom was just retching up nothing but milk, she slumped against the shed, snow seeping into her dressing gown.

‘I hate it.’ She thought, leaning her head against the wood of the broom shed. ‘I hate being fat. I hate throwing up. I hate it all.’

‘You can’t stop.’ Said her conscious ‘Not now, anyway…not when you’re so close…’

“But it hurts.” She whimpered to the cold air “It hurts so much.”

‘Stop now and you’ll never be pretty.’

Sucking in a deep breathe of icy air, Dom stood up and looked over the snowy hills. If everything were as simple as snow, then maybe it would be alright.

But nothing was ever simple, and Dom wouldn’t be okay.

            Platform 9 ¾ was bustling, people flowing around Dominique like a current. But from the centre of the platform, Dom had her head tilted to the ceiling; she could see a flitting grey bird trying to escape, pecking against the glass and cooing softly to its friends outside. Dom felt like the bird a little, somehow trapping herself outside the real world that others seemed to accept so easily.

“Hey, Dominique!” Felicity appeared through the crowd, throwing her arms around Dom and squeezing her tightly. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

Nodding, Dom smiled at her friend; she couldn’t stay mad at her. Not for long, anyway. “Yeah, lots of family and all that. How about you?”

“Same, but of course Nigel decided to set the Christmas goose on fire-again.” They laughed together for the first time in what felt like years, and they got on the train arm in arm. As they reached their usual compartment, Felicity stopped and stood in front of the door, blocking Dom’s way.

“Hey, Fellie, that’s the way in, don’t you know?”

“I know, but Dom…before you come in, do you think you could go to the caboose?”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

Fidgeting under Dominique’s gaze, Felicity hoped she could convince her best friend to give in for once “Please, D, just do what I ask just this once.”

Sighing, Dom threw her bag in the compartment and nodded.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Felicity cried, pushing her slightly down the hall “You won’t regret it, Dom, I promise!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your hat on.” Dom called back, smiling a little and walking to the end of the train. The caboose was a little glassed in box, in the autumn and summer it was out in the open. At the moment though, the glass was fogged up, the benches were cold-and Ben was leaning against the wall, staring out at the world passing swiftly outside.

“Oh. It’s you.” Said Dom as Ben smiled at her sheepishly, and turned to leave-but Ben slipped his fingers through hers.

“Please, Dominique.” He said oh so softly, voice soft like a summer breeze “Just hear me out.”

Closing her eyes briefly, Dom nodded and let her fingers slip from his and stood on the other side of the compartment, arms crossed and frowning. “What do you want, Ben?”

“I want…I want to apologize.”

“Oh really?” raising her slender eyebrows, Dom looked at him critically “And why would you want to do that?”

Letting out a deep breathe, Ben ran a hand through his ash blonde hair; it wasn’t like Victoire or Fleur or Louis’, but every colour of blonde you could thing of. White and dark and ash and straw and gold; there was even a hint of red. Dom had never looked at Ben like other girls had; the quirky Quidditch keeper who was clumsy off the field, shy and handsome in his own way. Those blue eyes were steely, like melted metal; she could see how some girls could swoon when they flashed happily, or how that smile could turn your knees to jelly. Dom supposed Ben was handsome, in the way that you only saw in bits and pieces; especially in the light.

“I want to apologize because…because well I even though I have every right to worry over you, I shouldn’t-I should be such a bother.” Smiling awkwardly, Ben tugged at the fitted black jumper he’d received over Christmas-his Mum had said he’d looked dashing, but Ben wasn’t so sure. “I owe you an apology, but I think…I think you owe me one, too. For dismissing me so quickly, I mean.”

Dominique didn’t say anything, just continued to look at him expectantly.

“Say something, Dom, please.” He whispered, heart beating a million miles a minute.

“Okay.” She said slowly, uncrossing her arms and stepping forward “I’m sorry. Can we be friends again now, because I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” He sighed, and she stepped into his arms.

In Ben’s mind, he lifted her chin with one finger and captured her lips with his. She would smile at him, maybe laugh a little…they would back up against the wall, and Ben would hold her up as she wrapped her legs around his torso…

Shaking away the day dream, Ben just hugged Dom and hoped she wouldn’t let go for a few more seconds.

A/N: Okay! There we GO! I like this chapter, because you see Charlie (who I love) and Dom finds herself on the brink of realization, then falls again...yet I still like it. I guess it shows how sometimes both people are in the wrong, that there are people who notice and try to help, and those who want to help and don't know how.

And please guys, no hate towards Bill, Victoire, Molly, Felicity, Ben, Fleur or anyone-one of the problems with eating disorders is that it's a very hard sugject to aproach. Families often sense that something is going on, but are too afraid to do anything. 

Question: What, so far, do you think of the story? Is it realistic or just plain dumb. Am I portraying Dominique right as a low self esteemed teenage girl, or is she just turning into a Mary-Sue?

Also, do you guys think I should make CMP longer or make a sequel? I'm sort of leaning towards a sequel...

Please answer guys!

Rose<3