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Blood stains, blood stains on the floor by FOREVERwithYOU
Chapter 1 : Forgotten and lost, but in the end... Found.
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 7


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 It's bitter, that we live, isn’t it?



Depends on what kind of life you have, actually. You can have the life of a superstar; you can be popular, have a nice house, big car, lots of friends, who aren’t always real, but that doesn’t really matter, once you got all that money (and let me tell you, as a superstar, you're just rolling in money) or you can live like Dominique; quietly, awkwardly, alone. Not in the sense that Dom doesn't have a family; her family is huge, yet in that mass of people she still hasn't found her place. But how your life is going to be isn’t something you can just easily choose to have; If you look at it closely, the others decide how your life will be, depending on their actions, not yours. It’s quite ridiculous really, how people lie so often about their lives. They say ‘I don’t care’ like their life isn’t really ruined forever, but that annoying little voice in their head goes ‘I do.’ In the end, it’s actually our fault. Of course, as everything else in life, you have to allow someone to do whatever it is they want to do, but how is she, Dominique Weasley, delicate and weak, going to stand up against cunning minds, brave ones, the ones with brains and those, whose kindness can be easily faked and is supposed to trick you into believing, that there are people in the world, who you can trust. That enthusiasm is rather foolish and can end you up with no money, house, teeth and pregnancy at fifteen.

And that is rather bad.

Dominique always had problems with surviving. She wasn’t as smart or beautiful as her two siblings, neither was she as talented at sports as them. They were popular, not like Dominique, who barely had friends at all. The words ‘awkward’, ‘quiet’, ‘lonely’ would describe her better. Even the word ’sad’ would also do. There were many other words that seemed created just for Dominique, which she knew they weren’t. Why would someone create a word for her, the worthless girl, who nobody loves? Why would anyone waste energy and time on her

Nonsense. Nobody would ever waste time on you. Nobody loves you. Nobody cares about you. You're worthless. 

Pathetic, as she is, she sat in the corner of the Slytherin common room, reading a book. As her and Albus were the only Wotter/Delacours in the Slytherin house, she felt quite lonely and stupid to know that Albus had abandoned her with the rest of the family. They used to be good friends before, when he actually attended Hogwarts; they used to talk a lot. She thought he would send her letters, perhaps even smaller packages, but obviously, she was mistaken. Not a single word she heard from Albus, not since the summer holidays; the only news she received were from Witch Weekly, the gossip magazine, saying clearly that Albus, her Albus, was supposedly gay. But she knew he wasn’t; Al would have told her.

Would he? Did he not trust her enough? Would he think, like the rest of the family, that she was worthless and not to be trusted? But Albus had a girlfriend, as far as Dominique knew; Lucy Weasley, her cousin, once told her during lunch. She has seen her with Albus at end of summer holidays, when Albus acted as if he never knew Dominique, so it wasn’t possible for her to know.

In all those fifteen years of living, she never knew why all of her family disliked her that much; maybe it was simply the fact that she different in many, many ways. She wasn’t funny like James or Fred, she wasn’t smart like Rose, she wasn’t good at sports like Roxanne was and she certainly wasn’t as beautiful as Lily. Only Albus, Albus the lad she had so much faith in not to abandon her, which he of course did, understood; he was Slytherin too, the banned house in the Wotter household, he was quite socially awkward too and he didn’t like sports, he liked books just as much as Dominique did, didn’t like birds at all and was quiet and friendly. But most importantly, he cared. He cared about Dominique, and that was quite rare.

But he had forgotten her now, all of those times they spent together, unimportant to him. She was quite sure he was busy with his own life; training to become an Auror like his father and the muggle job he was having was supposedly quite hard (Al said the fast-food place –McDonalds, if Dominique remembered correctly- was always full of tired, annoying people, coming back from work. Al said, even if he usually isn’t that rude, that most people dinning there were very fat, so fat that he sometimes worried if they’d crumble in front of him, clutching their hearts, suffering a heart attack from all that nasty food. It stung Dominique; she was once fat too, not as fat as Albus described his customers to be of course, and felt uncomfortable every time someone would speak idly of fat people) and he had a girlfriend he had to pay attention constantly. She suddenly understood why Albus never wrote to her; he simply couldn’t find time for the lost cousin at Hogwarts because of all the work he had.

Her hair was tied now in a messy bun at her lower neck, silvery hair flying all around her face. If only Victorie saw me, she thought, I’d receive a howler from maman the next morning for my untidy hair. She’d be so disappointed in me for my sloppiness. Not like perfect Victorie with her perfectly groomed hair that always looks effortlessly perfect.

The nagging thought of Victorie’s degrading face expression kept creeping up Dominique’s eyes, the voice of her mother ringing through her ears. She decided to fix her hair up in a pony tail, but then thought ‘the pony tail would look even worse’ and dropped the idea of fixing anything. Frankly, Dominique knew that no matter what she would do to look better, she’d never look as good as Victorie. So her hair was just flying over her shoulders now, lifelessly.

It was quite sad, really. Dominique and Victorie looked almost the same; both had that lean silhouette, beautiful silvery blonde hair and wonderful blue eyes. But Dominique had freckles, which didn’t look like freckles on her milky white skin, they looked almost like acne from afar. But Dominique actually never had acne; her skin was always clear, not like Victorie’s face at age fifteen. Victorie’s face still wasn’t clear; not at all! It just seemed that way from all the spells she casted on her face. She always cheated her way out of things like acne, overweight, depression; some things Dominique couldn’t run away from. Perhaps now, that Dominique’s face and weight are completely in order, people would stop teasing her endlessly?

No. They wouldn’t. She was the one to get teased, lured into a corner and beaten half to death. It was always her, who’d receive criticism from people.

Flashing her eyes across a page of the book, she sighed deeply. It was the third time Dominique read this book and she knew it inside out. She put it down gingerly, as if the book would break if she threw it. Dominique was always scared, scared that something might happen, even if it were more bizzare than anything ever to occur to anybody. She was clumsy, Dominique was; she broke her mothers most treasured vase once, years ago. They put it together with magic again, of course, but her mother never seemed to forgive her truly for the accident.

She looked around. A seventh year suddenly caught her eye and her face flushed pink as she noticed his eyes were on her already. How long has he been watching me? What if he saw my horrendous hair before I fixed it? Or more likely tried to? She added to herself bitterly.

She’d been watching that boy for a while now. She always admired him from afar; his curly jet black hair, how it danced in the wind, those deep blue eyes, how they shined of happiness when Slytherin won the quidditch cup last year, and that dazzling smile. She was too shy to ever say anything to him, too afraid that he might look at her as if she was the last scum on earth.

He was the only son of Daphne Greengrass and her husband Blaise Zabini, a pure-blood, with a seemingly strong dislike towards anyone who wasn’t pure by blood standards. Dominique shook her head, trying to get those thoughts out of her head. Why would he like you, half-blood? Why would he want to waste his time on someone like you?

It didn’t work.

Dominique’s thoughts always drifted to him, when she laid half asleep in her bed. She couldn’t help it; needless to say, Dominique never had a boyfriend; she always imagined how it would be to have one, though; how it would feel to get kissed good morning, to get brushed with a hand so gently across the cheek, those quiet whispers in the ears of sweet words, but most importantly, she wanted to feel wanted. Like there was someone in the world who’d give anything for her just to be with her, just to be able to touch her and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

Now she was yawning. She got up and made her way towards the Slytherin girl dormitories. Quietly, like a mouse, she walked past the couch the few seventh years were sitting, including her secret sympathy. With the corner of her eye she saw the seventh year glance at her, but tear his gaze away quickly. She smiled bitterly at herself and walked on, into the darkness of the Slytherin dungeons.

“Hey you!” she heard from behind. Oh God, she thought. What was happening? Who was calling her? Was something on her back? 

Turning around, she saw a person with curly dark hair come to her. She felt her heart skip a beat as he came closer saying “Hey you’re Dominique, right? I’m Logan, Logan Zabini.” He reached out one hand and Dominique shook it.

“Yes,” she said quietly “I’m Dominique.”

“Well, nice to meet you. I thought, maybe, you could, you know, join me in Hogsmead for Butterbeer?” he asked kind of awkwardly, his cheeks flushing slightly pink, even in the dark was it visible.

Dominique was awestruck. No boy, let alone a seventeen-year-old one, ever invited her on a date. “I-I’d love to.” She said in the end, grinning widely.

“That’s great!” he said happily, and Dominique was sure she just saw dimples “I’ll see you around then.”

She nodded and waved at him, the happiness bursting inside her. Knowing that he waved back just as happily, made her feel amazing.

I think we’ve already said that Dominique, is indeed, very naïve. Very naïve when it comes to anything, including boys.

Logan Zabini is Hogwarts’ 1# playboy ever since James Potter left the school. Of course, Dominique didn’t know that, even if gossip like that is hard to miss. She never liked gossip; people used to gossip about her a lot too, called her The girl that wasn’t pretty, which left her scarred for life. She knew how mean girls could be, therefore, she didn’t listen to any of their so-called juicy and interesting chatter.  

The truth is, Logan wouldn’t be the boyfriend or lover Dominique dreamed about; he’d be the exact opposite, actually. He never treated girls like princess', never like queens; to him girls were simply thropies, rewards he collected. He was violent, any girl he's been before will tell you that. Of course, if she isn't too afraid of him to do so. 

That charming smile on his lips was fake, only there to invite in innocent girls into their doom. Those eyes were sparkling only because of the viciousness locked up inside of him wasn't released yet. But it would be quite soon. Quite soon would be the downfall of an innocent soul.

Dominique just didn’t know that yet. 

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A.N. 

So, basically, this chapter got 3 reviews and all were saying that this fic is really good, so I was like, "BWJBSJBDGDHJDBFJDCBVJGVBASKJJKBKBHJGHVBGG" and now I'm still like, "NJFBDBFHDVFXYCFNKLFGNVJXOMG" so yeah. THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS OMG. I'll update the next chapter sometime soon. I already started it. 

omg, I'm so glad you guys like Dom. I really like Dom too. Omg, we have so much in common let's be best friends and I'll bake you cookies as long as you read my work and when you stop reading this fic I'll send you to the place reserved for Taylor Swift fans and laugh at your face and then I'll go home and cry because I lost a reader. 

I kid, I kid. I love Taylor Swift. But I'm still going to cry, though. 

Anyhow, I'm so sorry for the long author's note. But thank you for reading it? :D 

If you leave a review I'll LOVE YOU FOREVER AND I'LL MASSAGE YOUR FEET AND BAKE YOU COOKIES AND SHIT. And just so you know, they told me my cookies are the best in town. 

Stay beautiful, lovely people. x 




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