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There's Something About Dom by hpfan45
Chapter 5 : Somebody's Somebody
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 3

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Finally get to have a glance at LJ :)

Chapter Five: Somebody’s Somebody


The late summer sun flitters through a window as I try and disconnect my body from a hard floor.

Where am I again? What happened last night?

I try to think back, but all that does is make my head pound. So instead, I settle for unsticking my body from the floor.

Getting up, I recognize that I’m in Dom’s apartment. Oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no.

No good could have come from last night.

“Well hullo there handsome.” I glance upward, internally groaning. Just my luck to run into Dom’s gay roommate, Bobby... naked.

Trying to cover myself and preserve what dignity I have left, I answer, “Err...hi Bobby! Nice to see you! You’re up early. Hey, what time is it anyway? I probably need to go. Is Dom up? Well if she isn’t then let her sleep. I think I have a coffee date with Beatrice... and when I say date, I mean we’re going to buy some coffee for the apartment. She always gets South American blend and I need me some Italian roast! No respect. You guys have good coffee. I bet it isn’t South American blend. You know I heard a stor-”

“Calm down Teddy,” Bobby says, thankfully cutting off my ranting. “It’s about 6:30 a.m. and I am just coming back from my 5:30 run. No one else is up, and I doubt you have a coffee buying excursion today,much less with Beatrice. Take a shower, get dressed and just relax. Then you can tell me about Vic’s boyfriend’s party,” he finished, raising his eyebrows.

I groan and respond, adding, “You don’t want to know. I don’t even know! But yeah, I am going to take shower,” I say, rubbing my eyes walking away.

“Watch out for the-” I hear Bobby exclaim right before I slip on something lumpy and wet.

“...vomit. It’s your own if that makes you feel better,” he finishes.

I am face down in my own cold vomit. I don’t know if it being cold is a good thing. Would I rather be in warm vomit?

On second thought, I’d rather not be in any type of vomit.

“I’ll clean that up for you later... and start some coffee,” Bobby says, while I gingerly get up from sticky, vomit-covered floor.

“Thanks man, I owe you one,” I say, the second trip to the floor giving me a painful thudding in my head.

“By the way, we do use an Italian blend,” he adds.


I wake up, my throat sore and my eyes burning. I feel like I was just run over by the Hogwart’s Express. Twice.

The sunlight blinds me as I stumble out of bed to draw my curtains closed.

The light seems just as bright. I groan trying to remember what got me into this state; thinking only makes my head hurt.

I look around the floor of my messy bedroom trying to find something to throw on. My eyes bypass empty tubes of lipstick, old Quidditch tickets, half-full potion bottles, and piles of clothes. I finally find a simple Muggle sweatshirt with a huge faded picture of France colored in with flag. In the center of cartoon France is a cartoon smiley face. Scrawled in French underneath is ‘Joie de vivre.’

Translated literally it is the ‘joy of life,’ but in French it means something more, like a spectacular feeling of happiness.

I got it on my last trip to France five summers ago. How I miss it there. The air was always hot and wonderful, the boys sweet as the cigarettes, and time didn’t matter.

The summers here in London weren’t that way. The air was hot, yes, but it was always tense. Honestly, I smoke so much because it helps me ignore this stress.

Which explains the excessive chain smoking.

My sweatshirt barley covers my arse, but I really don’t care. I just need some potion for my throat, a hot cup of coffee, and a shower.

In that order.

I walk out of my bedroom right into Bobby, who just finished waving his wand at the floor.

Strange, but I’ve seen stranger.

“Morning Bobby. Qu'est-ce que c'est?” I greet him, asking in French ”What is this?” Bobby has taken to French and wants me to speak more so he can learn faster. I only know enough to get me by, but he insists on it (and has threatened to stop making me coffee).

“Oh! salut Dom, ce n'est rien, rien du tout,” he says nervously. He’s doing nothing? Well alright then.

“Bobby, can I honestly tell you I’m too tired to try and speak French? Is coffee on the stove?” I ask, already walking away from him.

“Yeah... so how was Vic’s boyfriend’s birthday party?” he asks, following me into the kitchen. I notice that he’s still wearing his workout clothes.

“My head hurts if I think about last night, so it must have been good, huh?” I laugh. “And what time is it? It must be early if you’re still in your running shorts.”

“Little after 6:30. You look sick, Dom. Please don’t tell me you finally contracted a STD?”

“My Buddhist God! It’s bloody early, and I actually have a sore throat, dear friend,” I snap jokingly, taking out a potion bottle from one of our five cabinets.

I hear Bobby clear his throat as he pours me a cup of black coffee. “Well I know what you did last night,” he teases.

I down the potion and give him a deadpan look.

He probes again, “Or should I say who you did last night?”

I feel the potion already working through my veins and my throat healing. I take the cup of coffee from the chipped counter. I can tell he’s waiting for me to reply.

“We need some fresh flowers in loft. I think I’ll run down to-”

“Dom!” he cuts across my effort to leave.

“We really do need some flowers...maybe some daises?”

“Listen, I know you’re probably disappointed I cheated on Garland, but I honestly don’t remember who with. It’s probably one of Vic’s boyfriend’s sleazy friends anyway. You don’t even like Garland so what’s the matter? And no, I won’t tell him, because I bet my life he already cheated on me with dozens of edgy brunettes or-”

“Dom I don’t give a flying fuck if you cheated on Garland a hundred times! Well I do, but last night you didn’t just sleep with anybody!”

“Just tell me then!” I demand, walking out of the kitchen into the wide, empty living room. Yellow light is coming through the skylight and splashing across the furniture.
Bobby opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by Louis’ owl from France sweeping through the window.

My short lived curiosity for what happened last night leaves my mind as Louis’ letter takes all my hungover attention.

Through it all, Louis is the only thing I think that keeps me sane. When the closest thing to a sane person in your life is Vic... and maybe your gay roommate, something is wrong.

I rip open the letter, vaguely aware of Bobby watching me as heflops down on one of the scarce chairs in the room.

Dearest sister, my Bella!

Sorry, I had to. I am just in such a good mood that I want to spread it around, and thought, ‘who better to spread my joy with than my suicidal sister, Dom?’

So Domsters (I know you hate it, but it’s sometimes endearing), I am in seventh heaven because I have taken your advice and met a girl. Not just any girl, the girl. I might marry her! She’s beautiful, Merlin, they only make them like this in France Dom.

I was just walking one night, alone as per usual, seeing as I haven’t met much friends in France, and I saw her drinking a espresso and reading some magazine- that was in English! Of course I went up and talked to her seeing how bad I am at French and here I am finally meeting a girl that speaks English!

So she says yes, she speaks English (and French for the record) and then invited me to go out this bar with her and her friends (blah blah underage drinking I know). Turns out she has lots of friends and they all like me and now I have this beautiful girl and many friends and long story short, this summer is brilliant. Knock on a broomstick.

Anyways I really hope you and Teddy settled your differences (you always do). By the way, I don’t believe you were the bigger person this time until I talk to Teddy personally. Sorry Dom, but you’re the most bloody stubborn girl (woman?) I have ever met.

I smile ruefully at Louis’ words, my heart going soft from missing him (the only guy my heart will ever go soft for). I feel his excitement through the pages of the letter, scoffing in humor at every little joke he makes. I wish I could escape into his letter and live the France summer; it’s been ages.

Actually you and Teddy better be a good terms because (guess what?!) you are coming to France!

I sputter on the sip on coffee I just took. FRANCE?! I quickly scan the page again, trying to find my place while ignoring Bobby’s cry of “What happened?!”

You’re probably freaking out with excitement. Of course you are! You are going to be seeing me!

And the real reason you’re coming is Allura. You remember her of course, Vic’s best friend back in France, you know.

Of course I know, Vic can afford to go to France every summer to stay with Frenchies. And of course I remember Allura. Ugh. The name itself. Allura. She’s even more gorgeously gorgeous than Vic. They look the same except Allura is thinner and blonder... and I guess her nose is a bit straighter. She’s just as a goody-goody as Vic. It is impossible to have fun around her. One thing I haven’t missed in France was seeing Allura coming over and being all pretty and nice. She’s too nice. I hate people who are too nice. And pretty. I hate Allura.

I know she’s not you’ cup of tea, but she invited the whole family to her wedding a while back. She just put us all on Vic’s invite list and plus two, for Vic and your ‘significance other.’ Her words, not mine. I already told Teddy about this a while back so I decided that you can just bring him. Don’t make that face Dom, you always have fun with Teddy.

You four would be staying with Allura at her house. She insists. So don’t worry about a hotel.

Anyways, talk to Vic about the date and such (I know you love talking to her) and give her my love.

With celestial love,


France sounds so amazing right now. Even though I do hate Allura, France is lovely in the summer. I can just imagine taking day trips to the French Rivera...

Teddy’s coming? Well we have been getting along great so I guess it won’t be too bad. At least I have someone else to talk to besides Allura and Vic and Vic’s dumbarse boyfriend.

I look up at Bobby who is drinking his coffee, reading some fashion magazine and waiting for me to finish my letter. That’s something that I will never have - Bobby’s patience.

I blaze a cigarette from the pack lying on the coffee table, still thinking of France. I wouldn't have to pay for much besides travel if we’re staying at Allura’s.

“Dom, listen to me,” I look up to see Bobby leaning in and giving me a serious look.

“Oh yes! You needed to tell me something... potent?” I answer tiredly, last night’s party catching up with me while I lean back into the soft couch.

“I am telling you this as your gay best friend, and you should not freak and throw a fit.”

I raise my eyebrows and take another pull of my fag. I do not throw fits.

“You slept with Teddy last night. He is aware of this. He is in the shower right now.”

“Oh shit. Garland is going to be pissed” I stub my cigarette quickly on the already burned surface of the table and stand up, taking a hasty gulp of my coffee.

Bobby follows me to the door, “What are you doing?”

“I have to get out of here and tell Garland before he hears about this from someone else, and I - I don’ think I can face Teddy after last night - not yet.” I feel my heart pounding at the thought.

“What should I tell him?” Bobby asks while I throw on Teddy’s battered green jacket. It hangs low enough to cover me decently.

“Just give him Louis’ letter and tell him you told me what happened last night,” I hear the shower turn off in the background and rush, “…and that I’ll be at his flat later”

I put on some slouchy boots quickly and open the door; a few pieces of chipping yellow paint fall off. “Bye!” I say before turning on the spot.

I find myself outside with the pleasant early-morning feeling of a hot day. I walk down the street for a while, closing my eyes and imagining strolling along the avenues of Paris instead. I open them when the scent of flowers wafts past my nose.

Next to me is a small flower shop where workers are putting out overflowing tulips, lilies, roses, asters, amaranths mixed with bright gladiolus. I stop and bend down, smelling in their fresh scents. We do need some flowers for the flat. I pick up some gladiolus, my favorite, and daises, Teddy’s favorite.

Ah, Teddy. I wonder if he’s mad at me. I don’t remember what happened last night, but it was probably bad. Maybe we can just laugh at it and say ‘shit happens.’ Then we can go to Paris and everything will be normal again. Maybe.

I decide to stick to my word to Bobby about seeing Garland. I know he won’t be up but I don’t care much. I still need to tell him and to see him. It’s been so long.

I pay for the flowers and Apparate around the corner at Garland’s.

Garland lives on the other side of London near a strip club and across the street from the local drug dealer. Everything’s a gray or black color; the flowers in my hand contrast starkly. I let myself into his apartment.

It’s small, messy, and smells like cigarettes and booze. I lay my flowers carefully by the door and find him passed out on his couch. I sit on the floor next to his head and brush his long black hair gently.

Garland’s nose is a little crooked and he has a hard face with a rough feel; it’s the total opposite of Teddy’s smooth shaven baby face. He’s dressed in his uniform leather jacket and black jeans with some silver boots. Said boots lay on the worn carpet. Garland started smoking at the age of thirteen and by the time I was a first year, he was a fifth year. We never knew each other at Hogwarts. Teddy remembers him and would just say he was ‘bad news.’

I love bad news though; he’s like a drug. Yeah he cheats on me, but I slap him around and let him know it’s bad. Yeah he’s a bad boyfriend and doesn’t give me presents, take me out to dinner, or do anything for Valentine’s Day, but he buys me bogies whenever I need them.

Garland’s rough and Dutch, or whatever they are in The Netherlands, and moved here at a young age. He doesn’t talk to his parents anymore and he’s in a rock band. I love everything about him, mostly because he’s the complete opposite on everything Vic and her boyfriends are.

“Mmm what are you doing here so early? You little slut, I haven’t seen you in days,” he moans, ruefully sitting up on the couch.

“Well arsehole, I’ve just been missing you and I have to tell you something,” I say, a bit hesitantly.

I see him glance at me, “does it have to do with the owner of that jacket? Cause I don’t want to hear it if it does,” he rubs his eyes.

“Well I’m going to France with Teddy for my sister’s friends’ wedding.”

“Why are you going then if it’s not your friend?”

“I have to.”

“Well I’ll miss ya darling, but don’t ask me to wait for ya.”

“I slept with Teddy.”

“Why ya telling me this?”

“I dunno,” I say leaning back on his rug.

“Okay,” he responds, taking a sip of some leftover scotch, “Ya want a drink?”

“Gar, why don’t you care?”

“I’m not going to fight for ya Dom, especially from the likes of Lupin. Is this to get even with me? Fine Dom, we’re even.”

I don’t say anything. He takes another sip and says, “Ya coming to my show tonight? It’s at Ole Harry’s.”

“Maybe. I don’t like your groupies though.”

“You used to be one of my groupies. What happened to being friends with Melissa and Amber?”

“Melissa’s a bitch and Amber’s a freak.”

“Ah I see, ya hang with pretty bitches now.”

I get up to make a cup of bad coffee.

“Paris with Teddy, eh?”

“It’s not like that Gar.”

I give him a cup of coffee and sit on his counter. He heaves a huge sigh. “Dom, we’re over.”

I feel the tears brim and I don’t know why. It’s not like we were anything serious but I love him. I love his raw edge, and his rough voice and they way we come together.

“Don’t get like that Dom,” he says, still sitting on the couch.


“Ya know why, I need a girl who can give it to me whenever, who adores me, who comes to my bloody band shows! I feel like you’re not even here Dom, like you’re always thinking of something or someone else, even now.”

“Is this about Teddy?”

“Well ya just made it about Teddy, so yeah.”

There’s silence.

“Would you hate me if I said we could be friends?”

“Yes. Gar don’t do this.”

“I love everything about ya Dom, including your free spirit.”

I jump off the counter sit beside him on the couch and kiss him. He kisses me back growling, “Damn you Dom Weasley and the things about you. Tell me why I keep coming back?”

“I ask myself the same thing every day,” I say before leaning back into my boyfriend, my lips finding his unshaven chin. I blindly kiss him, closing my eyes.


I ran into my apartment after what Bobby told me and after reading Louis’ letter, which also told me that I need to start packing for France. Right before I left Dom’s I sent an owl to Vic asking her when we’re leaving and a sorry that I didn’t see her much last night.

Oh shit, Dom. I wonder what she makes of this. I don’t even know why I stopped midway of doing her. Why would I care if she thought I wasn’t her studly stupid boyfriend?

“Look who decided to come home. So what poor soul fell for your bad pick up lines last night?” Damn Beatrice.

“Ah, how could I have stayed away from your lovely voice so long, Beatrice?” She’s in the kitchen making tea. Disgusting.

“Shut up, Lupin. And it’s your turn to sweep the room.”


“Ha, ha, now” she says humorlessly.

“I’m waiting around for someone.”

“Aren’t we all in this world?” And with that cryptic remark she leaves for her dusty room. I sigh. That wasn’t as rough as usual. No yelling, even. I walk over to the far window and push it open, sitting on the ledge to light a cigarette. I carefully blow wisps out the window so Beatrice can’t tell I’m smoking.

I really am pathetic.

I look at the clock to see it’s almost eight. I wonder when Dom’s coming. I’m nervous to hear what she says, but the cigarette mellows me out and I let my mind wander to Vic.

Sweet, beautiful Vic. Men can write sonnets about her. I haven’t talked to her in forever. I mean really had a conversation with her. That bloody boyfriend of hers. Hopefully, unlike what Louis said, he won’t be coming to Paris. It’s the city of love, maybe Vic can finally see the way I love her.

Hopefully Dom doesn’t tell her that we had sex. That might taint the image of me in her mind. Then again, Dom tells Vic everything. I have to no idea. She acts like she hates her but tells her everything. I know Vic is Dom’s best friend. I know this for a fact. How can't I knowing them so long?

The city gets louder as time ticks by and my pack of cigarettes dwindles. Beatrice hasn’t come out yet and I peacefully rest my head back against the window frame.

I hear the soft knock on the door. Three slow knocks and one for good luck. Dom.

I get up quickly then slowly walk to the door, absentmindedly taking a drag.

I swing it open and there’s Dom. “Hi.”


She’s dressed in my jacket and showing her legs a lot. She’s carrying a bundle of flowers in her hand, some of her messy blond hair falling into them.

She licks her lips, coming in. I courteously give her a cig. She brushes past me.

“Daisies?” I ask closing the door behind me.

“I know they’re your favorite. Thought you might need something to freshen up the room. Saw them at that flower shop by the intersection this morning. Do you have a vase?”

I shrug in response to the question. She sighs and puts the flowers on the counter, starting to look through the cabinets. “So is that where you were this morning?” I ask.

“Obviously,” I smile at her dry humor.

I don’t answer waiting for her to speak, "How was your morning?” she finally cracks. I smile discreetly.

“Besides waking up in a pool of my own vomit, butt naked to be found by a gay guy then trip again in said vomit? Take a shower to find the girl I just slept with gone - from her own flat. That boosted my self-esteem a bit. Then spent the rest of the morning chain smoking out my own bloody window cause I get bossed around by my own roommate.”

There’s a ringing silence right before Dom bursts into loud laughter, much more than any girl’s giggle. I start to laugh along with her. The situation is becoming more and more funny than awkward.

“Oh Teddy!” she leaps into my arms and hugs me. I laugh hugging her back. “What?”

She pulls away, her arms still over my head and I see her closely for the first time in ages. “Come to Paris with me!”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I grin back.

We laugh and Dom lets herself become excited for Paris. I can’t remember her being this excited for anything in ages. I feel happy just watching her waltz around my decaying living room talking fast in French then more slowly in English. She jumps around singing old French songs. I find a vase and fill it up with water, putting the daisies inside.

I look at Dom’s gladiolus on the counter. She thinks she’s like that, bright colors and thin delicate flowers, but that’s more Vic. Dom’s a daisy: Simple, beautiful, sunny, and bright.

“Hey Teddy?” Dom calls from the other side of the room, “I decided I am going to help you out in Paris. I’m going to help you finally get the girl of your dreams... Vic!”

a/n: I feel like its been forever. So the plot moves forwards, and now a wedding in France seems like the perfect remedy for Dom...
Ah first time we see Garland. Does he live up to your expectations?
Dom and Teddy...friends? Again?
More on Vic and France...and obviously Teddy and Dom next chapter :)

becca xx

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