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Chapter Ten: Sacrifice

He stared at me with what I guess at some point before could have been considered a half-amused expression; now, it just looked like he had some uncomfortable digestive issue. “What, can’t the father of your child come and visit every now and then?” he asked in an attempt at light humor.

“No.” I said, still holding him at wandpoint.

He looked taken aback at my blunt and angry answer, “Merlin, who pissed in your pumpkin juice?”

I let out a shrill laugh, “Really? Are you honestly confused about why I might be more than a bit angry with you?”  I said, finally lowering my wand only to cross my arms. He still looked confused, so I continued, “You’ve been MIA for the past few days, haven’t you? I guess I just don’t consider you a father to this child when you don’t even care enough to inquire after its health when I’m in the hospital because the fetus was under a great amount of stress.” I crossed the room and pulled a chair from the table to sit down; my feet were killing me.

At least he has enough heart to look a tad abashed as he came and sat across from me at the table, “I’m sorry, Dominique. It’s just been really rough –”

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to Merlin I will curse you so badly you won’t remember your own name,” I growl slamming my hands on the table. “You think that your life has been ‘really rough?’” I raise my voice in disbelief. “Sure, you lost Victiore, but so did I, Lupin. I lost her and my Maman and my job and, on top of all of that, my feet are killing me, I’m getting fatter and fatter by the day, my back aches, and every now and then I feel like throwing up my last meal!”

He paled, “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

I scoff and cross my arms again, looking away from him and out the window. “Why are you here?” I ask, watching the clouds and trying to calm down.

He sits in silence for a while and I look back at him; he’s tracing the patterns on my wood table, “I…” he starts, then pauses and takes a breath, “I need your help.”

I laugh again, humorlessly, “You are unbelievable.”

“No, listen,” he looks at me and I’m startled by the new look of determination in his otherwise dead-looking eyes. “I need your help to get Victiore to talk to me again. I know that she hates us now, but Dominique, I love her.” His voice cracks and I feel the wall of hatred I have towards him cracking with sympathy, “We can talk to her again. I can tell her that I need her; I know she needs me too, that she loves me. I know it. And you know her best, you can help me.” He stops talking and looks out the window, trying discretely to wipe his eyes. I look down at the table and unfold my arms.

Why did he have to do this? All he ever causes for me is trouble and then he expects me to help him fix it? Honestly, I can’t see how Victiore would ever talk to me or Teddy again. But then again, I truthfully can’t see her without Teddy. They were always like two flowers from the exact same plant. Anyone could see by just the way they looked at each other that they were in love – it was the same way that Aunt Ginny looked at Uncle Harry, that Maman looked at Dad back when we were growing up.

But what does he want me to do about it? Yeah, so they’re supposed to be together, or they were before I came into the picture and he knocked me up. But can love really just change like that? I sigh. What did I look like, Dumbledore? I couldn’t pull miracles out of my arse, as much as I wish I could.

“Teddy, I don’t know if my help will get you anywhere,” I tell him. “You know she hates me now – probably even more than she hates you.”

“I don’t believe that she hates either of us,” Teddy said in a small voice. “Not really.”

We sit in silence for a while again. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Teddy. Or what I can even expect from you in my life or the baby’s life…”

“I’ll help you, and the baby. I know that I’ve been gone, but you have to understand… I need Victiore, Dominique. I need her.”

“And this baby doesn’t need a father?”

“No! That’s not what I mean,” Teddy exclaims. “I’m just saying…” he looks uncomfortable, “that Victiore comes first.”

I blink at him. I can’t say I’m shocked, not really. Half because Victiore always seems to come first, at least when compared with me. But I wasn’t suggesting that Teddy take me and not her – I was saying to put his child in front of her. I guess my face betrayed me because Teddy looked ashamed, “I’m sorry, Dominique. I know you probably expect more from me… I just… I can’t do this!” another tear escapes and I begin to thaw. Does anyone else know what it’s like to try to stay angry with a crying man? Fucking hard, that’s what it is.

“I – I understand,” I say, reaching my hand across the table and covering his.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“I’ll talk to Victiore,” I tell him. “Or I’ll try to.” I muttered.

“Thank you,” he whispered as I began to hate the fact that I was so susceptible to guilt trips.

The rest of Saturday and Sunday passed mainly with me mulling over ways to get my sister to stop hating me. I knew that I had to get her alone if I even had a chance; I figured that she had probably moved back to her flat by now, but that didn’t mean that Mum hadn’t moved back with her. Though Victiore was usually pretty independent of my parents nowadays, this was a pretty big thing to deal with. However, I know that if it were me, I’d kick everyone out and deal with it myself. But Victiore and I were different, that much was blatantly obvious, and while I was more keep-to-myself she was more friendly with people in general. Usually I like people to admire me from afar, but Victiore is more of an up-close-and-personal kind of person.

Either way, I knew that on the first Monday night of the month Mum and Dad flooed to France to have lunch with Mum’s side of the family and that tomorrow happened to be the first Monday in October. As I remembered this, I couldn’t deicide if I was lucky or not to have such a convenient time so close.

So it was with that confused frame of mind, and with no real idea whatsoever that I said goodbye to Uncle George after my first day of work (during which he fretted over my constantly and basically tried to pay me for standing around doing nothing) and apparated to the hallway outside of what used to be my sister and Teddy’s flat.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I thought grimly as I knocked. I strained to listen for any sound on the other side of the door, but I should have known better – my sister, like I used to be, was so petite that she could stomp to the door and hardly make any noise. Hoorah for veela genes.

The door swung open until the chain caught, only enough to see a sliver of the gorgeous blonde in front of me. I wanted to ask the purpose of the measly silver chain-lock, as any wizard or witch that visit would simply slice through it with magic, but I refrained. Victiore’s eyes landed on me and immediately darkened. The door slammed shut. Lovely.

“Victiore,” I yelled. “I need to talk to you!”

No answer.

I banged on the door again, “I’m not leaving until we talk, so you might as well give in.” I looked at the floor as I said this. It looked very uncomfortable, but I knew I’d win if it came down to a who-was-more-stubborn contest.

I pounded the door again, “I really hope you don’t think that I’m kidding. I sat outside your door for seven hours before when Tommy Fairfield gave me a flower and not you, and I’ll do it again, goddamnit.”

“I see you remember taking all my other boyfriends, then!” she finally took the bait.

I grimaced. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the right example. “Bollucks,” I yelled back. “Not all of them; I wouldn’t have touched that French bloke you dated in fifth year with a ten foot pole.”

The door swung open and the chain was violently pulled tight, “That’s not the least bit funny!” her volume didn’t go down at all as the door open. “I can’t believe –”

She was cut off suddenly as a door to my right swung open, “I’m trying to have a peaceful dinner with my husband, would you mind keeping this night little argument down, or do I need to call the attendant?”

I opened my mouth to tell the lady to mind her own fucking business, but Victiore opened the door wide and spoke first, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Yates, we’re done with this conversation.”

“Like hell we are,” I said as I pushed past her and went to sit down. After spending all day on my feet, I was exhausted and my feet were killing me.

“Dominique!” my sister screeched like only a part-veela could. I heard the door slam and I collapsed onto the very couch Victiore had been on when we broke the news to her. Irony. “Get out of my flat!”

“We have to talk, ‘Tiore, honestly, please just listen to me,” I put on my begging face and literally licked her shoes. Now, if I were only doing this for Teddy, I’d have left after she slammed the bloody door in my face. But seeing my sister looking so depressed, even through that little crack in the door, had made any pride I had vanish. I needed her to not hate me; I had to make everything right. I had never felt a need to do anything more than I needed to do this.

“Why should I?” she asked, her face falling as she folded herself into a chair opposite the couch. “Why shouldn’t I curse you so that you’ll never be able to have children again?”

“Because I’m sorry!” I exploded, leaning forward. “What I did was awful, but I was one night. When you two were apart. It didn’t mean anything; hell, I can’t even remember most of it! I would do anything, anything to make you not hate me anymore. You’re my sister, ‘Tiore. I love you.”

I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not… fuck it.

“Would you get rid of the baby?” Victiore asked so quietly I barely heard it.

But I did. And my jaw dropped and my brain froze. A horrible pain shot through my chest at the thought of the awful thing my sister had just mentioned. I took a deep breath and quickly weighed the options, “Yes.” I whispered.

Victiore looked up from staring at her hands, surprised that I had agreed. Then she shook her head, “You would not.”

I shook my head, too, “No, I wouldn’t,” I admitted. “But it’s not because I’m in love with Teddy or because I want to have his baby! You have to understand that! If it were up to me, I’d let him pay for the kid’s nappies and never see him. You know he doesn’t love me like that, not at all. After all you’ve been through, after all you and I have been through, how can you not see that?” I asked her. It was really quite obvious that Teddy and I didn’t care for each other anymore than cousins. Honestly, that’s how I’d always pictured him; just another cousin. Well, except for that night we had sex; that would be gross.

Victiore looked back at her hands, her clear blue eyes sparkling with tears and her long almost white-blonde hair falling over her face. As I studied her, I noticed how unkempt she looked. Her hair was frizzy and greasy and her skin didn’t look as perfectly smooth as it always was. My heart ached at her heartache.

“Look, Victiore,” I started. She had to be happy, I could suffer. Hell, I deserved to suffer, but she didn’t. “If you can’t forgive me yet, I understand. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” I took a deep breath and couldn’t believe what I was about to do. I was in no way a selfless person. I cared about my appearance too much and I thought that because I was beautiful I deserved special treatment. Or I did before this whole fiasco. Now, I knew that I had to work for whatever I wanted and that I deserved nothing. Victiore, however, deserved to have her life back. “I seduced Teddy. It’s not his fault at all. He was trying to cover for me to save our relationship, but I see now that it’s not going to work. I was upset that night because of my break up, I saw you and Teddy fight and break up and, well, I used him. At least give him another chance to talk to you, you love him and he loves you. Don’t let me come between you.”

Victiore looked up and anger flashed in her eyes, “You seduced him?” she said in a low voice.

I nodded and didn’t even have to pretend to be ashamed, “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t easy, either, but we are part veela. He didn’t stand a chance, truth be told.”

My sister gaped at me, “You… you little…”

“I know. Trust me. Give him another chance, even if you never talk to me again,” I said. I got up and walked over to her. She didn’t move as I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m so sorry.” I began to walk towards the door.

“Dominique!” I turned as I heard my name called and Victiore walked up to me.

“Wha –” I began to say but Victiore raised her hand and cracked me across the face so hard that everything went black for a second.

“Stay away from him,” she growled as she pushed me through the door and slammed it hard behind me.

I held my left cheek gingerly as I stared at her door.

That went well, I thought bitterly as I apparated to my flat. I had a letter to write to a certain metamorphagus that had helped cause way too many problems.

I woke up the next morning, at eight, and rolled out of bed to walk into the bathroom. My eyes were slightly puffy from the bit of crying I had done and my hair was most definitely resembling a bowtruckle nest, but I decided I didn’t care enough to shower before heading to work. I threw my hair into a ponytail and left my makeup in its bag. Most of what I’d done yesterday was in the back room, and its not like there was anyone I’d see at Weasley Wizard Wheezes that I’d want to look good for…

Or so I thought.

I had just returned from my lunch break when Uncle George decided that I shouldn’t be doing any more heavy lifting ‘in my condition’ and sent me to man the register. I didn’t really mind, my bad was getting a bit sore, so I grabbed the copy of The Headway (a magazine that thought the world would explode if they actually reported legitimate news) the last worker had left behind and took up the post.

I had just begun to read an article entitled Percy Weasley Spotted in Barmy-Character Boxers! when someone put a bag on the checkout counter. I hadn’t noticed anyone in the store so, naturally, I jumped at the sudden appearance. “Holy –” I looked up and barely restrained myself from saying many impolite words.

“Dominique?” Hayes Landon stared in shock and in all of his handsome glory.

Why in the name of Merlin’s sock hadn’t I showered this morning!

I think I was too shocked to speak. That, and my jaw had dropped making my attempt sound more like a dying animal. Perfect, just if he didn’t think I was a freak, I had to go and look like shit and make incoherent noises.

“I can’t believe it’s actually you!” he smiled.

I glared and blushed at the same time, “Sorry, I usually don’t look like this. I’m usually … showered.”

This time, he blushed, “No, no,” he said quickly. “That’s not what I meant! I just meant that I can’t believe I’m running into you, of all people.”

“Oh,” was my brilliant response.

“Is this where you’re working now?” he asked.

I tried not to laugh or sound sarcastic, “Obviously.”

Yes. I failed.

He blushed again, “Oh, well, yeah, I just –”

“My uncle owns the shop, George Weasley. Dominique Weasley, remember?” I told him. It was weird to have to make the connection for him; I was so used to just being known and remembered due to my incredibly famous family.

“Oh!” his face shone with understanding. “Sorry, I’m just not used to England yet, I guess.”

Oh, yeah. He was from France. And he was gorgeous. He ran a hand through his jet-black curls and surveyed me with his deep blue eyes. I was immediately conscious of my gross-looking state and growing stomach. Why did I have to be pregnant when I met the most attractive male I’d even seen? I could say one thing for sure, if I weren’t, I’d have been putting on all my charm to get this bloke to fancy me… screw me… whatever else I could think of with me…

“It’s okay,” I managed to pull myself out of my lustful and regretful thoughts and answer him. “It’s actually kind of nice not to be known because of my family.”

“I can imagine,” he looked relieved for some reason.

“What brings you in here, Hayes?” I asked him, liking the way his name sounded. I may have been subtly flirting. Don’t judge me. It’s not like I was in a relationship.

“Oh,” he blinked. “Er –” he looked down at his bag and I felt stupid. Good one, Dominique. Ask the question with the most obvious answer. “I was getting some of these products for my little sister. She’s at back at Beaubaxons. Someone at the hospital told me about this place and I had to check it out for myself. I decided to get her some of this for her own enjoyment.” He grinned crookedly, just like a cliché, and I thought I was going to melt into a puddle right there. His perfect teeth reminded me that my breath probably stunk due to the soup I’d just had for lunch. Merlin, could I be any more unattractive today? Probably not.

“That’s nice, how old is she?” I said when I remembered that he was waiting for me to respond.

“She’s thirteen. My parents weren’t expected to have another kid after my brother,” he laughed.

I smiled, because with him smiling like that, I couldn’t not smile. “My cousin Fred, he’s in his last year at Hogwarts, he’s seventeen and he has a three year old sister. I know what you mean.”

We both laughed, “I guess parents should just learn to use birth control, eh?” he said.

I blushed and grabbed his things to check him out, “Yeah,” I mumbled. I sent a mental curse to the universe in general for making the subject of birth control come up between me, a pregnant eighteen year old that isn’t in a relationship, and this incredibly sexy guy.

I heard Hayes mutter something in French then, “I didn’t mean it like that, Dominique! Merlin, that would probably the stupidest thing I’ve said in all my twenty years of life. I-”

“It’s fine,” I told him, smiling somewhat awkwardly as I rang up his total.

“No, God, I wasn’t trying to – I didn’t mean… I don’t think less of you for –”

“Honestly, it’s okay,” I told him, now trying not to laugh at his flustered state. He looked so cute when he was blushing and trying to explain away his comment.

“No, okay, let me make up for it,” he suggested as he handed me the money.

I flushed, “Oh, no. I can’t let you – you don’t have to –”

“That sounded wrong,” he said, getting more and more flustered as I handed him his change. “I want to take you out. I was going to ask you when you came in for your check-up next week, but I guess it’s more appropriate here.” He ran his hand through his hair nervously and mumbled a bit.

I was completely in shock. He had actually been planning to ask me out to dinner when he knew I was pregnant. And after he’d seen me looking my absolute worst, at the hospital first then again just today. Surely this meant that behind his perfect looks, he was some kind of crazy psycho freak hell bent on seducing and/or murdering pregnant women. Or maybe he was blind and dumb.

I’ll take my chances.

“O-okay,” I stuttered. “That sounds great.”

He grinned. He genuinely looked happy that I’d agreed. I was beyond confused. Maybe he was plotting my murder or something. But hell, if I died after being seduced by Hayes Landon, surely I’d die somewhat happy.

And Victiore would probably be thrilled.

“Oi! What’s going on here? Why do I sense that something other than product sales is going on here?” Uncle George chose that moment to waltz into the room with a pile of boxes.

“No, Uncle George, I was just giving this man his things,” I said quickly, my ability to lie saving my arse. I picked up the bag and handed it to Hayes, subtly mouthing ‘owl me.’

He nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Ms. Weasley,” he said nodding.


Hayes grinned to me, my uncle, then turned and walked out the door. I watched him until he was gone. “Sketchy bloke,” Uncle George remarked as he began to restock the depleted supplies.

To say I waited patiently that night at home for the letter from Hayes would be nothing more than a boldfaced lie. In fact, to use any word that implied I wasn’t pacing my living room and harassing my own owl until she too flew out one of the open windows would be incredibly dishonest.

What can I say? I’m not a patient person. One time, on Christmas morning, I woke up at five in the morning and would not rest until everyone else in the house was awake so I could open my presents. The situation may or may not have involved the banging of pots and pans when my parents told me to go back to sleep.

I jumped when I saw Teddy’s head in my fireplace upon tuning to pace in the opposite direction, “What are you doing here?” I said with hardly any surprise. Honestly, I was getting used to Teddy just popping up in my flat.

“I need to thank you,” he said. I studied what I could see of him and noticed that he looked a but happier than he had this past weekend.

“You should,” I muttered.

“Victiore showed up at Harry’s house and asked to talk to me. I think we are going to be able to work things out… eventually.”

“That’s fantastic,” I said without any real enthusiasm. Well, my plan had worked. My sister hated me but had the love of her life back. Whoop-de-fucking-do. I was a bit peeved at Teddy for interrupting my waiting.

“I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate what you did, ‘Nique. I know that I couldn’t have given up Victiore like that,” he continued.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m practically Father Christmas, spreading love and joy to all,” I answered sarcastically, turning my back on him and continuing to pace.

“I’m trying to be serious, Dominique.”

I turned to face him, “I know you are, Teddy. I’m sorry I just can’t be too thrilled about the fact that my sister hates me. Sure, it solves your problem, but I’m still freaking knocked up!”

He looked ashamed, “I’m not going to make you do this on your own.”

“I might want you to, Teddy,” I told him what I’d been thinking ever since I’d talked to Victiore.

“What do you mean?” he asked, sincerely surprised.

“If you’re going to be with Victiore and she’s going to hate me like she does, I can’t really see her being all peachy about having her half-niece/husband’s child spend weekends at the house!”

“What do you want me to do, then?” he asked, getting upset. “Turn my back on my own kid?”

“You didn’t seem so opposed to it a few weeks ago,” I pointed out.

“I wasn’t thinking straight then! Harry and Ginny would kill me! Everyone in the family would hate me except for Victiore!”

“Yeah, well, life’s a bitch.”


“I’m not saying you won’t ever see him or her. I’m just saying that I don’t expect you to take full responsibility! If you want to do something, you can pay child support or something, I don’t know.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“Anyone who really wanted to be a father would be pissed at my even suggesting that,” I told him dryly.

We stared at each other in silence as the truth of this statement sunk in. “Can we just talk about this later? What, we have another like five months.” I sighed.

“Fine,” Teddy agreed. “I just popped in to thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

More silence. “Well, I’ll be going now.”



And he was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed like I was always more stressed with Teddy was around. Which, I guess, is to be expected with him being my illegitimate child’s father that is in love with my sister.

I collapsed onto the couch in front of the fireplace and closed my eyes. Maybe Hayes just felt bad for me so he asked me out even though he didn’t really mean it. Maybe he left and moved back to France to avoid me. Maybe –

I opened my eye as Charlotte landed on my shoulder and pecked my ear, “Ow!”  I was about to berate her for messing with my relaxation time, but I noticed she had a letter tied to her leg. “What’s this?” I untied it and saw that I didn’t recognize the handwriting.

Charlotte flew away and onto the top of a beau, clearly wanting to relax herself. I unfolded the letter; it consisted of two pieces of paper.

I was just about to go to the post office to get an owl and send this because mine is currently delivering a letter to my parents when this owl appeared and tried to pry it from my hands. I mentioned your name and it hooted, so mainly I hope that you do end up with this letter. If the receiver of this letter is not Dominique, then please ignore it.

I laughed, “Thank you, Charlotte.” She hooted. I opened the second letter.

I was wondering if you were free this Friday night at around six o’clock for dinner. I was serious when I asked you out, though you may have just been shocked into accepting. Sorry if that was the case. Anyway, if you could just give me your address I would be honored to pick you up at around six and take you to dinner. I probably sound repetitive and stupid so I’ll end this before you decide I’m definitely daft.

I’ll admit it; I grinned like a Hogwarts schoolgirl. I hurriedly ran over to get new parchment and a quill and responded.

Friday at six is perfect; dinner sounds amazing. I live in the Dewward Building not far from King’s Cross. My flat is on the third floor, number 305. See you Friday.

Charlotte did not appreciate being sent off after doing such a good deed on her own, but with a bribe of too many owl treats, she let me tie the letter to her leg and flew off. With a giddy feeling that I hadn’t felt in a very long time, I skipped off to take a shower, forgetting, for the first time in two months, that I was pregnant.


A/N: HEY AGAIN! It's been for-freaking-ever on this story, I know. Life has been freaking hectic. What with senior year, getting dumped, family members hospitalized, and THEN the queue closes... haha. But its really no excuse. I'm SOOO sorry. Please still love me. And review. I got SO MANY on the last one. I was SOO happy. Thanks so much, guys, you make me keep going sometimes! :]
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