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Chapter 1 : Real or Not Real
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The last thing she remembered before she woke up in St. Mungos hospital was having the wall come at her. She would swear on the life of her mother that the wall moved. She would swear on the life of her entire family the wall moved. One second she was on her broom in the middle of the field, next the brick wall of Hogwarts loomed in front of her. Dominique’s stomach twisted and she felt fear creep into her mouth moments before her body had collided with the wall.
The Wall. That terrible, awful, goddamn wall that ruined her entire life. It makes her sick to think about now, with her concussion, her brain trauma, and all the physical therapy she needed afterwards, how stupid could one person be. How ignorant, who the hell doesn’t see a wall coming at you.
By the time she had gotten out of the hospital, the seventh year of school had finished and everybody had already had their N.E.W.Ts and had gone off working, leaving Dominique in a lonesome trance, boredom and agony clawing at her limbs. Strange things were happening to her, giving her lonely mind things to puzzle over.
In the hospital, people had come to visit her. Sometimes in the afternoon, and sometimes in the wee hours of the morning. Her parents came in the morning, her siblings, her aunts and her uncles, which was normal, to be expected. But at night she came to visit her. Dominique would stare up into her own face, the exact image to herself with the exception of the bandages, the migraine and the hurt. Just as she had come to expect her parents and her siblings, she came to expect the other Dominique, too. The replica would come sit by her bed and tell her haunting stories about her life, which too mirrored Dominique’s.
The time the real Dominique had fallen out of a tree, been pushed out of it by the wind, the double had been pushed out the tree by her brother, who had laughed at her and started clawing at her with his nails. The time the real Dominique’s new cat had bitten her; the double’s new cat had savaged her arm. On and on her stories would go, first she would tell Dominique what had happened to the real Dominique, then she would continue to tell her the exact same thing with a sick twist on the end.
I’m glad that wasn’t me, the real Dominique had said once, that would have been horrible.
Well, you know what, you bitch? And the duplicate got on top of her, straddling her with her legs. I am you, and once you get that through your fucking thick skull, I think we’ll have something rolling. The replica beat her fists against Dominique’s face, her shoulders, and her throat. In the morning the Healers had questioned her, but Dominique didn’t want to give her duplicate up, so she told them she didn’t know. They said she needed psychological help, but she quickly dispelled that need after her brain was tested again. According to the Healers, there should be no more brain damage, and there should be no other Dominique. Period.
The double didn’t come again until the bruises healed. She lay on Dominique’s bed and sat there, staring into the silence. Finally she said, Is there anyone you want to see?
Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy.
I don’t know, the real Dominique had said, I like his hair. Yeah, and his eyes, he has nice eyes.
The next night Scorpius entered the room, but it wasn’t Scorpius at all. The real Scorpius, Dominique assumed, wasn’t actually in the room now. All he was was this duplicate, this evil twin. This…this… she couldn’t think of the word at the moment.
The replica looked like Scorpius on the outside, all soft tones and honey colors, but his walk was different. The way he moved his hips suggested something more, his shoulders didn’t sag under mounds of books and pretense of, he was dressed in black, the silk of the button-down hanging off his body like a curtain, his jeans low on his hips. He was, Dominique thought instantly, not at all the Scorpius she went to school with, but the epitome of sex, disguised in human form.
He only stayed long enough to answer one of Dominique’s questions. Who are you?
I’m Scorpius, he said, smiling, I was told you had asked to see me.
Not you, she said, not you.
Now Dominique sat by the window, her legs curled in front of her, to tired to complain of boredom and to bored to complain about the sleep her eyes felt, tugging the lids over her pupils.
It wasn’t too, too nice outside, hulking grey clouds sulked overhead and the garden looked sad and dropping underneath the ledge of the window seat. From what Dominique could tell, none of her gorgeous white roses survived through the spring storms in the French countryside. Her mother bustled around in the kitchen, making a dinner Dominique probably wouldn’t eat. She could smell the yeast wafting from the kitchen in the close quarters of their little cottage, the garlic as Fleur prepared the dough.
“Its not fair.” She said aloud.
“I know, amoureux.” Fleur called from the kitchen, “but some things are just the way they are. How’s you head?”
“Fine, but it’s still not fair.”
“And where do you plan on going with this conversation, Dominique? I do believe you’ve said that already.” Her father walked into the room through the side door. “Pouting, as much as you choose to think the contrary, won’t get you anywhere.”
“I was thinking,” Fleur entered the sitting room with a cup of English tea, “that you could take ballet up again, that made you the strongest you’ve ever been.” She gave Dominique an once-over. “And it might improve your posture. Again.”
“Ballet’s hard though, and I was never any good at it.”
“That’s only because you thought it was hard, Dominique, I think your mother has a point.” Bill laughed, his scarred face stretching out, “get it, your mother has a point, Pointe.” He stopped trying to make it funny when no one was laughing. “I thought you were good at it.”
Dominique huffed. “That’s only because you’re my dad, you’re supposed to think I’m good at it. And even if I started again, it’s not like I could actually go back en Pointe.”
“Stop making that face, amoureux, it will give you lines in the wrong places.” And Fleur escorted Bill back into the kitchen to direct him through clean up.
That night Dominique took the advice of her mother and started stretching. The agony of stiff limbs tore at her heart in a way she never expected it. She did miss dancing. It still wasn’t fair.
As the week wore on the weather got colder, the leaves fell off the trees surrounding their quaint country home leaving mounds to float through the air and arrange themselves in a random formation. Dominique had a pair of ballet slippers lying on the floor next to her.
“Why can’t I just wear socks?” She asked her mother again. “They have the same feeling.”
“No, they don’t Dominique.” Fleur snapped. “One feels like ballet, the other feels like an off hand remark, now put them on or put them away.”
Dominique wiggled her rainbow and sparkles socked feet into her baby pink ballet slippers.
Snow fell and so did Dominique’s hopes of ever seeing the duplicate of her again. The other Dominique never comes out of the strange hiding place her and the fake Scorpius must share, not once has she ever dropped in, cursing Dominique with rude remarks and innuendoes. Soon Dominique came to the conclusion that the Healers were right, there was no other Dominique.
“The tests have arrived!” Fleur dropped the pile on the sofa next to Dominique. “Just do your best, amoureux. You know all the good jobs come with schmoozing anyway.”
And so Dominique tried her hardest, always keeping what her mother said about schmoozing in the back of her mind. The N.E.W.Ts flew by with flying colors. All she did all day was sit on the couch asking her parents questions, hoping to cheat a bit while she had the pretense of a school surrounding, no matter how feeble it may be.
Within the next month Dominique had her tests back and marked, she had a plan to get the rest of her life on the road and find ‘love’ doing it. She didn’t know exactly what she meant by ‘love’, all she knew was that she wanted to be married, and have no kids until she had a stable income and a nice house for them to grow up in, and a prospect of a steady education at Hogwarts.
“Dominique, amoureux, how about we go down to visit you uncle and aunt?”
“That depends on which ones.”
“Ronald and Hermione. We could even see Harry and Ginny while we’re there.”
“I’m cool with Harry and Hermione, but Ginny reminds me of Grandma Molly.” Dominique replied, she would swear to god she had had this conversation before with her mother.
“What about Ronald.”
“He’s a douche.”
Fleur looked at her funny, like she was trying to hide a smile that was bound to surface anyway. “Don’t say that.”
“But he is, all he ever does is work. That’s what douche’s do.”
“He tries so hard.”
“Too hard,” Dominique replied. “I’ll go, as long as I don’t have to take my ballet slippers.”
“I’m sure socks will do.”
That night Dominique felt a hand on her face; she felt the mattress sag with a new added weight. Lips that were not her own brushed on her cheek and she was startled awake.
“Shh, just me.” A voice said from the darkness. The voice had his hands wrapped around her wrists lightly, calming her hands still.
“Who is that?” She asked, her breath hitched in her throat when she felt someone’s lips on her own.
“You don’t recognize me?” He sighed. “Hard to imagine why not, I’ve only ever said three words to you.”
“The one and only.”
“That’s not true,” She said, he was cocky; the other one wasn’t like that.
“Sure it is, when have you ever known the real Scorpius to act like me?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Savoring a memory.” He breathed on her face, air flowing out of him hot and foggy.
“I’ve been trying to see you, but Dom wouldn’t let me.”
“Who’s Dom?” She asked, thinking ‘Dom’ was the gatekeeper of the circle of hell this Scorpion crawled out of.
“Dom, Dominique, Queen of the Damned: Take Two. You remember her, don’t you? She looks exactly like you do, just she scares me.” He laughed low in his throat. “I call her Dom so I don’t get confused between the two of you. Sometimes I forget not everybody speaks Scorpius.”
“Nobody speaks Scorpius.” Dominique kicked out at him, her foot aiming to catch his side with her heel.
He caught her ankle inches away from his abdomen and continued like she didn’t just try to impale him on her leg. “Wrong, Dom speaks Scorpius. In fact, she speaks it very well, so well sometimes I don’t need to talk for her to hear me. She just knows my wants, my needs. My desires.” He licked down her cheek. He puckered his lips against her chin and kept talking. “She knew I wanted you. That’s why she couldn’t come sooner, it’s because she was trying to keep me in line.” He laughed again. Bass echoed from his chest to her bones.
“Yes, Scorpius, why don’t you leave, that sounds like an excellent idea.” An exact image of Dominique stepped into the room from the doorway, leaving it propped open without a care. “Why don’t you disobey direct orders from me and go gallivanting into the Wizarding world like a—”
“You probably don’t want to finish that sentence, Dominique.” Scorpion said. The hiss audible when he said the ‘nique’ part of her name. His face broke out into a sudden smile. “I was just having a little fun.”
“Too much fun,” she spat back. “Go home, go to bed, I’ll deal with you in the morning.”
Scorpion turned back towards the real Dominique and kissed her full on the mouth. “I like being dealt with.” He whispered so softly she could barely hear it herself. He climbed off her and walked out the door of her little bedroom, seeming to disappear on the other side.
Dom sat on the bed, the room felt as though moving with her breath. One second the weight of the presence of Scorpion was weighing on the air, next the weight of the world on Dom’s shoulders.
“Thank you.” Dominique said.
Dom turned around and grasped her wrist, “if you ever mention it, I’ll tear your throat out. Believe it or not I like him about as much as you like him.” And she disappeared.
Dominique lay back in bed, already missing what she could barely have of the other Dominique. Hating Scorpion for keeping them apart. She couldn’t pin point her exact feelings for Dom. Not romantic love, but love nonetheless. She loved the girl and still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she needs Dom more than Dom will ever need her, and she can’t protect her from Scorpion, but Dominique can’t protect herself from Scorpion.
“Doppelganger,” she said into the dark. That was the word.
Holy moly, it's been a long time. Here is an edited (slightly) version of this chapter that I did while thinking of what to write for future chapters. Alas, I fear this series might be coming to a end before it was even started. Check out my other stories while I figure this Doppelganger thing out.
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