Cleary, her sister did not love her.

It had already been established that she did not trust her sense of style which, she must admit, was almost nonexistent. But this, this went too far. Dominique tilted her head to the side in the mirror, scrunching up her nose as she took handfuls of the hideous dress in her hands. She had a strict no ruffles policy, one that her sister had taken great care to ignore when she went shopping for bridesmaid dresses.

“You are the maid of honor, Dom. Everyone knows the maid of honor gets a different dress than the others.” Victoire had said, before shrugging indifferently and sauntering off.

Despite what Victoire may have believed, Dom was not stupid, but she refused to complain, to give her sister the satisfaction. So now, thanks to her pride, she stood in front of the tall mirror of the dressing room, clutching the frilly pink fabric in her fists with a drawn out sigh.

The bell on the door to the boutique rang, signaling the arrival of a new visitor. It was only Dom and the shop owner here to day; an old friend of her mother’s who had agreed to close to the public for the day. A moment later the old woman began shouting at the visitor, and judging by the confusion in his voice when he responded, she guessed that since he did not know fluent French, he could only be one person.

She pushed the curtain to the dressing room aside and stepped out into the main part of the boutique, smiling a little at the sight of the tiny woman franticly trying to push Teddy out of the shop.

“I’m the groom! You know, for the wedding? I’m marrying Victoire, you must have heard of her. Her sister’s back there and she’s my friend. Hello? Are you even - ow!” The old woman had somehow acquired a broom, and was now hitting him on the head with it.

It appeared to have made up for the height difference.

Dominique hurried over, grabbing the woman and pulling her away from him, ducking when the broom swung dangerously close to her face. “Eloise, arrêter! Ted est mon ami!” At her words the woman slowly lowered her broom, still scrutinizing Teddy suspiciously. “It’s okay, Eloise, I can take it from here.”

“You can speak French?” Teddy asked, clutching his chest as his eyes trailed the old woman, afraid that she might change her mind and come back.

She laughed and shrugged indifferently, focusing on her nail beds as she replied.

“A little. Maman would be highly disappointed if I didn’t.” Dominique turned back to the dressing room as he straightened up. “Apparently you would’ve been, too.” She added with an amused smirk at him over her shoulder.

“Hey, I had it under control.”

“Sure, sure.” She laughed again, pushing the curtain aside and going to stand infront of the mirror again with a heavy sigh.

“So this is it?” The look of shock did not go unnoticed by Dominique, who could see it clearly in his reflection. She rolled her eyes and exhaled deeply, running her hands over the ruffles.


He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, obviously trying to suppress a laugh. “Looks nice.” Teddy lied.

Dominique spun on her heel and punched him in the shoulder. “It is not funny! You better start looking for a new fiancé, because I’m going to murder your current one.” She seethed, picking up the dress as she stormed into the dressing room where she’d left her less ruffled and ridiculous clothes.

The moment the door slammed behind her, she unzipped the dress and stepped out of it, a strange sense of freedom flooding her body. When she finally felt the familiar feel of denim caressing her skin as she pulled her jeans on, she let out a sigh of relief. She buttoned her blouse up and opened the door, only to find Teddy standing on the other side of it, blocking her way.

He was still trying to refrain from smiling. “You’re not going to murder her.”

“Yes I am. Feel free to watch.” Dom retorted, pushing past him and shoving her feet into a pair of golden ballet flats her mother had insisted she wore.

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Teddy gestured over his shoulder at the discarded dress with his thumb. She shot him a look that could make hell freeze over, but otherwise did not bother him in the least. He was so used to her death glares that he was practically immune.

Resigned, she stalked over and snatched it up off the floor.

“I’m still not wearing this thing.” She muttered as she passed him. “I’d rather go in my bra and knickers than in this frilly excuse of a dress.”

Teddy laughed.

“As much as… every guy there would love it if you did, you know your father would be furious and mother embarrassed to the point of fainting.” Dominique rolled her eyes, pushing the curtain aside and crossing the main part of the boutique with Teddy in tow.

“For some reason I don’t think I would mind.” She admitted with shrug.

“You know, you’re so cute when you’re being rebellious.” He teased as they stepped outside into the bright mid-day sunlight. Dominique stopped walking abruptly, turning to narrow her eyes at him.

“If you know what’s good for you, Lupin, you’ll take that back.” Dominique shot back with her finger in his face. His eyes shifted from warm brown to a playful blue.

After a long moment of staring him down, he didn’t budge. She threw her hands up like she didn’t know what to do with him, dress flailing in the wind and attracting the very unwanted attention of the nosey French solicitors that littered the street. Dom blushed and Teddy guffawed behind her.

He was so childish.

Maybe that was why they were friends.

“Oh come on, Dom, wait up.” He called as she took a sharp left down a narrow, cramped street lined with quaint tables occupied by well-dressed locals sipping on tea and nibbling on croissants. The few people that looked up were clearly annoyed. “You’re making a scene.”

“Merlin, you sound like Vicky.” Dom observed, rolling her eyes. Glancing back at him, it was clear that he was trying not to smile at her nickname for her sister.

Teddy squeezed by a waitress balancing a tray on one hand and clutching a pitcher in the other. “What else would you expect? I spend more time with her than humanly necessary.”

Dominique snorted, crossing the next intersection without bothering to check for oncoming cars. The familiar buzz of a Vespa reached Teddy’s ears and he ran forward, causing them to hit the ground as the silver moped zoomed by, the rider shaking their fist and shouting in French.

She spat her hair out of her mouth and pushed it out of her face, only coming to realize that he was straddling her in the middle of the street. A few feet away, her dress lay in a dirty, shredded pile. A satisfied smile spread across her lips.

“Are you alright?” Teddy inquired, his breathing returning to normal.

“Yes I’m fine, but I don’t think my dress will agree.” He followed Dom’s gaze to the mangled pile of fabric a few feet away and laughed. “Now will you get off of me? People are already staring at us like a couple of loons and you don’t want to know what they’re saying.”

“Right, sorry.” Reluctantly, he quickly stood up and offered her his hand, which she took, muttering her thanks. “I suppose I overreacted there.”

Dom walked over and picked her dress up gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. “Yes, a bit.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked over. “Victoire’s going to be rather upset when she finds out about this.” Teddy said, watching as she dropped it again. “Though you don’t seem to be too torn up about it.”

“That’s because I’m not.” Dominique told him, looking up at a boutique across the street where women were endlessly coming in and out. “Besides, what Vicky doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” She then took Teddy by the arm and dragged him toward the store. “Now hurry up, the opportunity for revenge waits for no man.”

Disclaimer Everything you recognize : JK Rowling's. Everything you don't : Mine.

Author's Note New story! :D This was written for Miss Lily Potter's Where's All The Flirtiness Gone Challenge with the quote "Those three words are said too much... They're not enough." to work with. So there you have it, chapter one! Let me know regardless if its great or horrible, reviews are reviews!

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