Chapter Twelve

Burning

            The hospital wing was a place Neville had spent a lot of time in whilst at Hogwarts, but upon returning found it nicer than he remembered. It was homey, with beds that smelled like cleanliness and the stern but caring touch of Madam Pomfrey was a healing miracle all on its own.

“Neville!” Madam Pomfrey said, rushing over to him “What brings you here? Another mandrake fainter, or perhaps a cat pansy bight?”

Chuckling, Neville shook his head “Not today Poppy; I’ve come to visit Ms. Weasley.”

“How nice, she just woke up a little while a go. Her head is much clearer now, not at all drowsy.” Poppy seemed genuinely happy that Dominique was recovering “Very bored though; is that book for her?”

“Yes, may I come in?”

“Of course, right this way!” they wove through the beds, and pulled back a curtain. Dom was sitting in the bed, pale but awake and reading the Prophet.

“Hello Ms. Weasley,” Neville said, pulling up a chair “How about some better reading?” he held up the book and smiled, hoping she wouldn’t ask Madam Pomfrey to kick him out.

Startled, Dom nodded “Thank you, I’ve read all the Prophets from the last month and corrected all the cross word puzzles.”

“Impressive.” Handing over the book, he watched Dom nod as she read the cover, then put it to the side. “Dominique, we have to talk. You know we do.”

“Do we? I wasn’t aware.”

“I know you’re witty, I know your smart-now what’s tumbling about inside that none of us are allowed to see?” Neville was a little angry, but he tried to suppress it-teachers didn’t get angry. Teachers were calm and cool, composed even when students frustrated them.

Neville had never noticed how blue Dominique’s eyes were, and as she stared at him, he saw for a moment the scared girl she really was. Not the popular beauty the rest of the school saw, not the brilliant mind the teachers witnessed-but a child, scared at the situation she had thrown herself into.

“Professor, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” said Neville, clenching his fists “Maybe this is the wrong way to go about it, but whatever you’re doing to yourself Dominique is not the answer to whatever turmoil is going on inside your mind.”

Dom frowned “I-”

“Hold a moment, Dominique.” Neville held up his hands in defence “I know you think you know what’s going on, what you’re doing-but you don’t. You have a problem, Ms. Weasley-and I will make sure you are helped.”

Sitting up, Dominique’s eyes turned icy “Thank you Professor Longbottom, but I don’t have a problem. I am perfectly healthy.”

“Healthy?” he asked “What about the tears in your oesophagus and stomach? Is nearly dying not enough warning for you, Ms. Weasley?”

“I have no idea how they became torn,” she said, voice flat “Now, I’m very tired and I’d like you to leave.”

The chair vanished as Neville stood, silently fuming-but not at Dom, at himself. He’d gone about it all wrong, and now he was even further from helping one of his brightest students.

“Good evening then, Ms. Weasley.” He said, tone discouraged “I hope you enjoy the book.”

“Thank you.” Dom’s voice was equally icy as her eyes “I’ll see you in Herbology class next week.”

Neville turned, but not before seeing a flash of fear ripple through Dominique’s arctic eyes.

            The Library was quiet, only a few students sitting in the round window seats, books strewn across the table top. The four girls were pouring over their books, trying to cram their brains with subject after subject’s textbook.

“I’d rather eat this thing than have to read one more chapter on the Goblin War!” moaned Nancy, gesturing to her history of magic textbook.

Maisy patted her friends back sympathetically “We know sweetie, but that would upset your tummy!”

“I am not a toddler, Mae.” Snapped Nancy “I was just implying that I hate History of magic. Why do we take it again?”

The rest of the girls –Una, Felicity, Maisy and Dom- spoke together, imitating the deep, gravely voice of Professor Binns “It enriches the mind, prepares you for the future by knowing the past; one is never fully equipped without a good dose of history!”

Collapsing in giggles, the girls were scolded by the stern librarian, quickly sobering. Laughter was stifled and hidden behind textbooks, and the five seventh years spent those few sunlit moments in forgetful bliss; they were eleven again, exploring the halls and running away from Filch and giving Mrs. Norris discreet kicks. There were sleepless nights thinking of a bed far away at home, crying into your pillow late at night because you missed your parents-Hogwarts had become their home so swiftly, welcoming them and holding them. The school wasn’t third parent, teachers helpful aunts and uncles-the students your siblings.

This next step of life, the biggest one yet, had come upon them so quickly none of them knew what to do. They had to be grown ups with jobs and real responsibilities. There would be tests they didn’t even know were tests, relationships that suddenly had so much more meaning than a good snog in the astronomy tower broom closet. There would be moving into your own flat, sudden death, losing and making friends, marriages, children and divorce.

In their last weeks of school, the girls felt as if the final wisps of childhood were being jaggedly torn away by a careless seamstress, laughing cruelly as if to say ‘So, what’s left now?’

            The world swirled around Dom, a whirl of green stall doors and black tile. The acid churning in her stomach was enough to make her sick without even trying; it burned her throat, made her tongue feel like lead in her mouth.

Heart pounding, Dom raised a shaking hand to wipe her mouth. Her whole body trembled, and sweat soaked her school shirt; Dom loosened her tie and took off the button down so she wore just the white tank top, curling up on the cool tile floor to retrieve some relief for her hot skin.

It felt as if someone had doused her in petrol just for a laugh, then lit a cig to watch her suffer; flicking the ash at her and watching as fire licked her skin. Cackling as she burned, burned away until there was only her charred, bird like skeleton left collapsed on the floor.

If she was so hot, why was she shivering? Why did it feel as if someone were tearing at her insides, picking apart her brain and playing Quidditch in her gut? To Dom, her body was no longer hers-it was still the enemy, but Dom was no longer winning the game. She had fought and fought, played the worlds twisted and cunning game-had even obeyed the rules. When had Dom ever uttered a word to anyone about what she did, or once thought of going to someone and ask for help? She had pushed everyone she loved away; insulted her sister on the last day of holidays, lied to her father, fibbed to her mother and told everyone she was fine fine fine. Everything was fine.

Dom had even lost her best friend, someone she now wondered thought of her more than a friend. More than a best friend. Benjamin Wood had kissed her, begged her to stop; he had held her, stroked her face and wiped her tears away. Kissed the lips that Dom hated, traced the freckles she detested; told her that he thought her beautiful. He had run his lips across her jaw and promised to never lie to her.

Tears dripped onto the floor, and Dom curled more tightly into herself. If she concentrated really hard, she could pretend that her own arms were Ben’s. If she thought very hard and blocked out the rest of the world, she could still hear him whispering into her hair, feel his fingers brushing her arms and knotting in her hair…

If Dominique closed her eyes, she could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist besides Ben’s phantom hands dancing across her skin.

            The room was brimming with the scrambled thoughts of forty or so seventh years, anti-cheating quills flying across the pages of their parchment. The atmosphere was tense, sweat dripped onto papers smudging the ink; students sighed, gripped their hair and wrote their final words-

“Alrighty everyone, times up!” Professor Flitwick ‘flicked and swished’ his wand so each parchment rolled up and made themselves into a neat stack on his desk, emitting groans from everyone in the room.

Filing out of the great hall, the seventh years cheered; exams were finished, the school year was on the brink of ending-there was one last day to say goodbye and pack, and then…then there was summer, and the end of their Hogwarts days.

From the middle of the mass, Ben caught sight of Dom’s head moving swiftly through the crowd-now was his chance. How long had he been planning this, thought of what he would say and practiced his face in the mirror? There was no turning back once he said her name, once she looked at him. He only needed to get her attention-

“Dominique!” he yelled, following her to the edge of the crowd.

“Ben.” she didn’t not, didn’t smile; barely acknowledged he was there. If only he knew how much Dom wanted him to hold her.

“We have to talk.” He said, straightening even as his heart sunk-what made him think this would work? When had confrontation ever worked?

“No, we don’t.”

“Yes, Dominique, we do.” Suddenly the anger that had bubbled beneath the surface began to boil over, and Ben found the words he’d tried so hard not to say for a long time come rushing forward. “We have to talk about why the hell you’re ignoring me, why you won’t eat-why you won’t look at me.”

“Go away, Benjamin.”

“I will not go away.” Said Ben boldly “I don’t want to, I can’t bring myself to; I never want to leave your side again, Dominique. I would stand by you for all eternity if you would only let me.”

Dominique was staring at him now, the noise of her classmates only a short distance away muting. “I…what?”

Ben realised he didn’t need his Quidditch robes to be confident, nor a winning game to kiss her-he only needed the confidence that had been there all along. “I love you Dominique Weasley, and I’ll love you forever if you’ll only let me. I’ll carry your books and make you eggs in the morning and watch you brows the library for hours-if only you’d let me.”

A burning heat had come to life in Dominique, flashing through her at an alarming speed. Her heart raced, stomach clenching and throat closing-what was going on?

“Say something.” Demanded Ben, blue eyes steely “Say something or I’m leaving, and I swear this time I’m not coming back. Let me love you, Dominique. Just let me.”

The world spun, and Dom had the terrible feeling that the words she’d been practising in front of the mirror weren’t going to squeeze through her wind pipe; it was closing, and she could barely hear Ben over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

Standing in front of Dominique, the girl he had loved for so long, Ben felt as if the world were crashing down. She was just staring at him, wide eyed and pale-he poured his heart out and she did nothing.

“Ben-” she gasped, blindly reaching for him. As their fingers brushed, the world went black and Dom felt herself falling into fire, burning sweetly in the afterglow of Ben’s words.

A/N: Yeah I know it's been around a WHOLE MONTH and I have no clue how my stubborness let me go on for so long. I was sort of putting it off, since this is the ultimate climax-y chapter and it's uber important and ack it's almost over!! I'm terrafied, can you tell? Utterly, truely terrafied. 

It's my birthday today...and I don't feel good. I don't mean I have a cold, but there's this...sadness weiging down on me, like a rain cloud above my head and I don't know what to do about it. The whole day I was trying not to cry, and I nearly did in the loos before History. I need a Ben everyone, someone to keep me up and smiling...and I don't have one here. Someone please cheer me up: say something to make me feel a little better. I don't feel good, I haven't for a while, and I'm desperat to rid myself of this feeling. I think I spelled like a million things wrong here, too. Oh no. I just wrote 'like'. 

I need help. Or sleep. 

I don't talk to anyone about it because I'm afraid and I don't tell my parents because they'll say they'll understand but they won't. They won't and I don't want to see that look on their face.

Anyway, question: How do you WANT this story to end, and how do you THINK this story will end? Also, Ben's declaration of love? Um...huh? Suddenly shy little Ben knows what he wants and is going for it!

Rose<3

P.S If you haven't read my book 'Living in Shadows' or the sneak peek for 'Set My Heart on Fire' I'd love it if you'd check it out. LIS is older, around twelve chapters or so at the moment I think? It's going to be long.