Chapter 3 : Lack Of Thought-Provoking Conversation
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Chapter Three: Lack of Thought-Provoking Conversation
“Dominique Weasley. Get your ass out of bed. Your sister owled you again.”
I rolled over in the warm, comfortable bed, buried in the layers of warmth. I knew investing in the down comforter was a good idea, especially with all these damn muggle air conditioners on.
I peek from underneath my fuzzy heaven to see Bobby standing above me, donned in a tight black shirt and running shorts.
“What. Do. You. Want. From. My. Life,” I ask slowly yawning and stretching. Everyone just tries to ruin my morning.
“Dom, you realize it’s like, 1:30 in the afternoon?”
“You realize you didn’t answer my question?” I snap back. Bobby is so sassy sometimes. “Like I told you before, floo your sister or she'll have a heart attack. She keeps going on about her new boy-toy's birthday.”
“SHIT!” I yell, sitting up quickly from underneath my covers. The sheets spread haphazardly across my bed. I look at Bobby who is laughing at me. “I promised her months ago that I’d help. Great,” I moan and flop dejectedly on the floor with a thud. Hopefully the cold hardwood will wake me up.
“Your sister’s on the floo network. Deal with that please.” I recognize LJ’s voice as she walks into the room. What the hell is this? Is my room some sort of daily gathering place?!
“FINE!” I get up angrily from the floor, wearing only a camisole and Bobby’s Christmas boxers (complete with blinking stars and reindeer). I stomp past LJ, already dressed in her coffee shop uniform with dark hair in a hot mess, to the living room where the fireplace was burning green with Victorie’s anxious face in it.
“DOM! Where have you been?” She starts. I ignore her and grab my keys from the coffee table. “Dom!”
I walk to the kitchen and see homemade scones. I grab one in each hand, stuffing them with utmost class into my mouth.
I give myself about two whole seconds to chew before I turn on the spot.
Suddenly I’m in Vic’s apartment - or should I say Ben’s apartment. Vic’s head is out of the fire and she’s dressed for the day modestly with cuffed white shorts. White. Haven't worn that in years. I laugh to myself at my own joke.
I look back down suddenly aware I’m not wearing a bra. I shrug it off. Ben’s not a perv...okay well Ben’s not here so no damage done.
“Vic! It’s been so long!” I run up and hug her. She unwillingly hugs me back and says, “I really wish you would reply to my messages once and a while, Dom,” I can tell from her tone of voice that she's mad.
“Ah you know I’ve been busy with work, friends, partying, and sleeping. But I’m here so what does it manner?” I smile at her sweetly. Vic is a sucker for my sweet side. “Love you too, babycakes,” she responds with a grin.
“Tell me you found a club for Ben’s party tonight. It’s his 21st birthday and I want it be extra special. I told him I would plan it,” Vic says slowly while walking to Ben’s (or hers; whichever) kitchen looking for her purse.
I look at the back of her head. Her hair is, as usual, in a perfect bun, with warm undertones that mine will never have.
“Well that’s your fault, and of course I did big sis.” Note to self, call Brandon and ask him to use his bar for tonight. “So why did you call me so early for a party that starts tonight at nine?”
“Dom, first of all it’s one thirty in the afternoon.”
“So I’ve been told,” I murmur under my breath.
“And second of all,” she continues not hearing me, “you promised to go shopping with me for a dress for tonight. I am the birthday boy’s girlfriend and have to make sure I look extra nice.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. So I’ll meet you here in an hour,” I say already thinking of the scones waiting for me. Two just wasn’t enough. Yeah, bite me for eating more for breakfast than most people eat in a day.
“Five minutes,” she says firmly (and insanely.) “Half an hour,” I retort, already walking away.
“Ten minutes.” Bloody crazy that she is.... “God damn it woman! Fine. Fifteen minutes. By the way I hate you,” I finish dramatically waving my arms.
“Heard that before,” I hear her say as I turn on the spot. Bloody Vic.
Dresses are so tedious. Shopping is so tedious. My life is so tedious.
I look at the clock in the (fifth) chic shop Vic and I are still in. It’s a jumble of sticks and what looks like blobs. Merlin please don’t tell me those are numbers. I fruitlessly try and decipher the meaning of the clock-thing hanging on the wall while waiting for Vic in the changing room.
“How about this one?’ she asks nervously coming out from the curtains. I give her a once over lazily, using my monotone voice of boredom.
“Vic, anything you wear you will look amazing in. And if you don’t just throw on the Veela charm.” It's true though; even with my Veela charms, Vic was always the skinny one. I look down at the tight dress I’m wearing, looking at the slight rolls of fat that’s probably my breakfast by now.
“Can you give some constructive criticism on the dress or something at least?” she asks impatiently. I take my eyes off myself to look at her.
“You look like a nun” I say seriously looking at the floppy square object on her body. She huffs back into the dressing room and I roll my eyes. At least I didn’t say Grandma Weasley. I decide to actually help, since it’s already four o’clock.
If I let her find a dress by herself that’ll keep going until say, six thirty? Then she’ll invite me over and I’ll have to sit through dinner with yet another one of her boyfriends that don't like me.
Then Teddy will make some dumb excuse to come over when he finds out that we're all having dinner. Her boyfriend will get mad for him coming since they are all the jealous type.
Then I will make some rude comment to him and he'll yell at me. Vic will yell at him and they’ll break up, making Vic move in with me like she always does when this happens. Teddy will be blissfully happy for about three weeks until she finds another boyfriend and falls madly in love with him. Or some guy falls madly in love with her. Then he gets depressed and this cycle repeats.
Long story short: I don't want Vic living on my couch again. So dress shopping it is! I look around the store for the first time since I walked in. Apparently all they sell is middle-aged pant suits and shapeless dresses. Merlin! Even mum wouldn’t shop here!
“Vic!” I call to her from the dressing room.
“Yeah?” she says, popping her head out of the changing room.
“Get dressed. I know I better store.” The sales woman throws me a withering glance. I raise my eyebrows for her to say something. She doesn’t. They never do.
Vic comes out dressed all cute and pretty and apologizes to the sales woman. The woman’s face transforms from a glare into a sweet smile.
Honestly, I don’t need charm or charisma like Vic, I have tough looks and a wand. We exit the store and Vic says to me, “Honestly Dom, that was rude! You shouldn't have said that so loud in front of that woman! And this place better be nice.”
Strolling down the crowded London lanes I reply, “Trust me, Vic, I know the perfect place. But first how about some coffee?” then add on an afterthought, “or Tea?”
Vic agrees and I lead her towards a nice French café with little outdoor tables and umbrellas. Sitting down, I decide for some hot coffee - black, of course.
“Really, Dom?” she asks five minutes later, looking at me sipping my coffee.
“Really what, Vic?” I ask back politely.
“Dom, you will get yellow teeth. AND decayed gums!” she added when I pulled out a ciggie.
“This is a French café. I'm just fitting in! Vic, has anyone ever told you to chill? Go with the flow? Live in the moment? I don’t plan on being here much longer, so live while you can.” I finish lighting the fag.
“Dom, what are you, suicidal?” I don't know if she's serious of joking. I smile a bit. I love her dry humor.
“No, Vic,” my deadpan voice reassures her.
“It was a rhetorical question, you idiot. And I live plenty. Even more than you,” she says, taking a sip of latté.
I laugh, “Then take a drag!”
“I do not give into petty peer pressure, and you’re the only person I know who smokes. Dom, seriously, look at Teddy even! He’s not succumbing to things like that,” she said pointing to my hand where my cigarette was loosely held. I laugh again at the irony that Teddy goes through more packs than I do in any given week.
“You’re right Vic, sorry.” I flick the ciggie to the ground and say, “So I’ve been thinking about your dress...hot with sequins.”
“Sequins?! Dom! That’s so trashy!” Vic says, looking aghast, but I see some spark of interest there.
“Not if you wear it right. Trust me, please? I have this dress I can’t afford on hold. And it’s too small for me.”
Vic laughs, “Why would you put it on hold then?”
“For inspiration. For me to actually get a promotion and work on that diet!” I say indignantly.
“Alright Dom, I’ll give it a go. But you’ll have to wear a dress I saw in a store last week....”
“Oh, come on Vic, have mercy!”
I am sitting here in my bathtub.
Taking a bubble bath. Let the record show I am 21 years old.
I lean my head back, watching the pink soapy bubbles rise and fall - magically enchanted, of course.
I let my thoughts wander to such things as Billy Markson. Back at Hogwarts he was our year’s resident super geek. I start wondering where ole Billy is today. He always said things that made me think, now looking back at it. He was one of those people who only said things that needed to be said. Not that he and I were buddies back then, but some of the things he said, other people in the school started quoting (of course not knowing where the newest phrase came from).
For some odd reason one of the phrases he said stuck with me all these years. ‘The heart always leans towards someone.’
I guess it does.
My heart always did lean towards one girl or another, even if I didn’t like them that much. Or maybe my heart always leaned towards Vic?
I grumble angrily and dip my head in the now cold bath water. Self-analyzing always sucks. My head is dripping as I emerge, looking at the tips of my fingers. I’ve been in here so long that they have become wrinkled like raisins. I look at them, wondering why that happens. I don’t know a lot of things, and probably won’t learn a lot of things. Billy is probably all-knowing right now.
And rich of course, from making a book of sentiments, he says.
I make a mental note to check the best seller list in the Prophet.
I make another mental note to start ordering the Prophet.
Thankfully interrupting my thoughts (before I can go deeper into my psyche) a bang comes from the bathroom door.
“Hullo! Anytime you want to come out and join the world, Lupin!” It’s the annoying voice of my nightmares. The one and only Beatrice.
“Ughhh Beatrice, I can’t have time to take a bath in my own bloody bathroom!?”
Beatrice is smart-arsed 25-year-old who couldn't pay the rent herself. I help her and get my independence as well. I refused help from the generous Godfather...you know, Harry Potter.
“It’s MY bloody bathroom as well, Lupin!” she yells back. I sigh, too lazy to put a silencing charm on the door. It doesn’t matter now because my mellow mood is disrupted. Why couldn't I have nice roommates like Dom, who cook for each other? They live in a nice apartment and go out together for coffee. Vic is really lucky, living in a fancy apartment with her significant other. I should really stop complaining about my life. It can’t be healthy.
I heave my body up from the cold water and wrap a towel around myself. Sighing, I open the door with old fixed brass (like everything else in this apartment) to reveal Beatrice.
If I could describe Beatrice, I would say she is the complete opposite of Dom. She’s short at 5’1” with mossy black curls and she’s always naturally tan. She doesn’t go to bars or clubs or pubs for that manner. She doesn’t drink or smoke, but instead reads a lot of books. She’s really book smart, but socially she hasn’t got a clue.
In the real world Beatrice and I would have never met. She works at a bookstore and drinks tea all day. I hate tea. So does Dom for that matter.
“At least that horrid smoke smell is gone. Are you even aware of what that does to you?” she says pushing me aside, going into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. This is what I mean. Who says ‘horrid’ in everyday language? Beatrice.
She doesn’t let me smoke in the apartment, but when I get really pissed at her I do it anyway. Sometimes I even smoke a whole pack. Then she magically changes the locks, leaving me to sleep in the doorway (or Dom’s couch, more often).
This is actually a common occurrence for us. So much that I wonder why I still live with her.
But I’ve done enough wondering today and decide to just go to my small excuse of a room, pull on some jeans and a shirt, and just think about Vic.
I was invited to her boyfriend’s birthday party tonight. I sigh. This is will be another night of getting wasted in my sorrows. I laugh humorlessly out loud as I head to the kitchen. Our half-broken fridge is probably from the 1960s (icebox included) but it's my favorite thing in the whole apartment, even though its powder blue finish is fading and the sliver tarnished.
I pull the door open looking for something to eat while absentmindedly pulling out a crumpled cigarette from my back pocket. I take a second to light it on the stove and see that the best thing available in the fridge is mustard. I make a face.
“TEDDY YOUR-ASS-IS-GOING-TO-GET-KICKED LUPIN!” I jump a mile up and turn around to see Beatrice’s dark rimmed glasses. “Are you SMOKING?” I cringe at her voice and pull it from my mouth.
“Jeez I’m sorry! I forgot!” still not bothering to stub it out.
“You’re going to be the death of me! Literally!” I force back laugher. Honestly the funniest people in the world are the people who aren’t funny on purpose.
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving! Love you Beatrice dear!” I say, hurrying to the door and waving my hand behind me. I can still hear angry mutterings from outside the door and decide where to go. Instantly Jacob, my best friend since after Hogwarts, pops into my mind. Ironically, I always thought he was a freak and he thought I was an inflated Quidditch player. We were both wrong and formed a bond tighter than any of my other friends at Hogwarts. Maybe it was because they were all successful now. Nah.
I head down the stairs and walk lazily through the busy London streets. I was halfway to his apartment before I realized that he away in Germany for the weekend. I declined the invitation for Vic’s boyfriend’s lame party. While Jacob’s getting drunk with hot foreign girls, I will be wallowing in self pity by myself. Typical.
Maybe Dom’s boyfriend will be there so I can punch him again.
Ah there’s that silver lining. I smile, changing my course and heading to Dom’s apartment for some free food and maybe a place to stay for the night.
a/n: so another chapter, another character! Beatrice! Also I planned on making this chapter go on, but Alas the scene in Teddy's apartment just got longer.
Also I am a little curious to who likes who's POV better, Dom or Teddy?
Next chapter I CAN guarantee Vic's boyfriend's party.
Stick around for some of that. ;)
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