Dominique Weasley would never claim to be beautiful, not because she wasn't aware of the fact, but because it was only applicable on some occasions.

On Friday morning when she was shaken awake by Keire having gotten only two hours of sleep on the hard benches of the common room, well, the adjective beautiful certainly wasn't applicable to her in that moment. A trail of drool wound its way out of her mouth, to be wiped away sheepishly at the first opportunity, as well as the creased robes that had somehow shifted around and gotten tangled during the early hours of the morning.

Eyes were bleary and red, face even paler than usual, along with the straight blonde hair that had become tangled in the struts of the bench and formed impressive knots for such a short time.

"Go 'way," she mumbled, having tried to lift her head only to be wrenched back to the hard bench that her hair had decided it sought to entrap.

A snort escaped Keire as she looked down at the girl's predicament, but she shook her head. "Lessons start in twenty, Princess. If you want breakfast or a shower you're going to have to choose between them, and if you don't get up now neither is an option."

"Don't call me Princess," Dominique replied, unable to understand the wave of disgust that swept over her body at the nickname, leaving her desperate for a shower. It was probably just the results of having not washed since the previous night, but it left her skin to prickle uncomfortably.

She tugged her head upwards more gently, easing the hair to uncoil from where it had tangled with the slats of wood.

Keire stood tall in front of her as her eyes watered slightly, the other girl shuffling up her papers, books, scrolls and journals with practiced order. She seemed to loom over Dominique even as the girl stood up, in spite of her smaller stature. "Well Dominique is far too long," she insisted without looking up, "such a waste of time to say. What do others abbreviate it to?"

"They don't," Dominique informed her, attempting to figure out what in Merlin's name had happened to her robes during the brief time she'd been asleep, wincing at the cricks in her neck.

"Dom? Don't your siblings call you Dom?"

"They do," she corrected herself, "but I don't let them. Dom is off the table."

"Nicky? Nic? Domino? Dominatrix?"

Dominique laughed. "The first one's a no, the second's clipped, the third sounds oddly tacky, and the fourth is longer than my actual name and far too suggestive."

"Minnie?" Keire offered, straightening up with her arms overflowing with papers that she crouched to push under the bench.

Dominique opened her mouth to shoot down the idea, then thought about it for a few second. "Actually, I kind of like that."

"Minnie it is," decided Keire. "See you later."

She picked up her pointed hat and settled it on her head, covering up her cropped hair almost completely, and then she was gone, heading off down the spiral staircase to the main area of the common room. Dominique let out a huge yawn, her eyes squinting as her mouth opened wide, swaying slightly on her feet.

Some people might have been able to function adequately on such low amounts of sleep, however Dominique was not one of them. She was an early riser, but at the same time she needed at least six or seven hours rest in order to feel human come morning, and while it was clear those such as Keire found it easy to handle going full nights without as much as closing their eyes, Dominique was regretting her past self telling the headmistress that she would be fine going to lessons that morning.

A shower was first on the agenda, prioritised over food.

She turned the water on as cold as possible and forced herself into it in an attempt to feel more awake, but the longer she stood under the relentlessly pounding jets the more the icy water numbed her brain, until she felt even more likely to collapse than before.

So she twisted the wheel full circle until the water scalded her skin, and that helped her wake up a bit. But the heat prickled uncomfortably, causing shivers to run up and down her body, reminiscent of the itchy uncomfortableness she had felt when Keire called her 'Princess' or when boys stared at her in the corridor.

She looked down at herself, at the pale skin that was mottled a deep pink from the heat but still didn't have a single freckle, at the long hair that was plastered to her shoulders and chest, still too light a shade even with the water darkening it. She imagined she could almost see a hint of ginger in it, compounded by the dim lighting, but even with that self-deceiving hope, something was wrong.

Her head ached from the dizzying heat of the water and the lack of sleep, so she turned it back to a temperature that was just a little too cold, her breathing heavy and ragged in the confined space. She tried to lean her forehead against the tiled wall, but somehow managed to misjudge the distance so that she stumbled slightly, and her hands hit the surface first, head following to rest on the cooling glaze of the white tiles.

In spite of how clear her skin was, she felt dirty to the point of wanting to wriggle out of it.

It didn't make sense. Sure, she usually took a shower each night before bed, but how could missing just one account for such a feeling of uncleanliness?

Bile rose in her throat, and she grabbed body wash, frantically scrubbing at herself with the rose and peach scented gel. Her fingers scraped at the outmost layer of her skin, removing the milky film of soap and dead cells and leaving wormlike pink stripes wriggling in the wake of their paths.

It wasn't enough. She needed an exfoliating mitt or something, but as her stomach growled she was reminded of the rush she was in to get to lessons.

The shock of normality brought her out of whatever stupor had overtaken her, and she hurriedly lathered up her hair with shampoo and rinsed the remainder of the suds off her skin, wondering if they were taking the horrible feeling with them as they swirled down the drain.

After quickly towelling off, she dressed, pulling on the largest set of robes she owned since she felt the need for the comfort and security they provided as they swamped her form. Her stomach growled, but she couldn't have handled food in that moment even if she had had the time to eat.

As it was she was cutting it fine to make her way from the highest point in the school all the way down to the dungeons for Potions, but she made it with a few minutes to spare and joined the line of assorted Ravenclaw and Slytherin students waiting outside the classroom, ignoring them all in favour of taking a few minutes to loosely plait her dripping hair and wind it into a bun where it couldn't bother her.

A single strand hung down and she tugged it out at the root.

Some of the students were looking at her again, even as she tried to recede into her robes, Ravenclaw and Slytherin boys alike. Aswan Boots was sneaking tiny, involuntary glances at her, while Jacob Cambridge pretended to be looking at the bare wall behind her. Mace Prince didn't even bother to add like he wasn't focusing on her, and neither did a few of the others.

Dominique wanted to rip her own face off. At least if they looked at her then it would be with disgust or horror, anything but the dazed expressions that slackened their features.

Mellie was staring at her with an unreadable expression, though if Dominique was pushed she would have guessed it held something like pity or concern. She couldn't even begin to decipher what Keire was thinking, but didn't focus on it for long because something unusual was happening.

Fortunately the majority of the other girls didn't usually pay much attention to her beyond the cursory glance that took into account her arrival, however now Mila Harris and Jess Schotte kept casting glances at her and whispering, while Sally Sussex was outright staring.

On the dot of the bell ringing, Professor Guertree stumbled into the hallway, making his way towards them with a benevolent smile outlined with toothpaste and a stack of squashed scrolls clutched to his chest. He elbowed open the door with some difficulty, and the students picked up their equipment and followed him in.

Dominique would never know how she managed to brew a passable cleansing potion that lesson, as she was practically dozing over her cauldron at several points, but it might have helped that Mellie was on the bench next to her and kept removing her knife from the equation so she didn't accidentally slice off her own fingers.

Professor Guertree looked disappointed as he assessed the potion that was clearly a darker green than it should have been, but he gave a shrug. "Not up to your usual standard Miss Weasley, but not bad. A little less of the ground mermaid scales never time around, and a little more time spent simmering before you add the puffskein. And be sure not to let it over boil, low heat is the key to this one."

Dominique barely had the presence to scribble down his recommendations.

She couldn't really remember anything about Double Charms, other than Professor Flitwick mentioning that he'd like her to stop by at his office some time to discuss her actions the previous evening, and then it was lunch.

She noted the whispers that followed her in the corridors rather than the usual infatuated pairs of eyes, and decided that there was certain admiration in their tone.

"Broke into Gryffindor tower--"

"A goat's arse crack I was dying--"

"Never thought she had it in her--"

"Roman said some disgusting stuff to Kit--"

Not really in the state of mind to process it that well, she did briefly decide that it was far better that they admired her actions than her face.

She intended to eat in the Great Hall, but the second she sat down her arms pillowed on the table and her head rested on top of them. There was no moment of uncomfortableness at the position or embarrassment at sleeping in front of everyone, her mind went blank immediately.

What seemed like a heartbeat later a finger was poking at her arm.

"Dom, Dom?"

"Don't call me Dom," she murmured blearily, lifting her head to look at her brother.

"Are you okay?" he questioned, then carried on without waiting for an answer. "The best thing ever happened! Roman's off the team and Leila's on it. It turns out she had actually spoken to Kit that day and they'd run a brief trial so Kit could see whether she was up to replacing Kerry as the Keeper, which obviously she was because she's amazing, and now Kerry gets to play Beater like she wanted and everything's perfect!"

Dominique frowned slightly. Perfect? Louie didn't have a place. But that didn't seem to be affecting his brimming enthusiasm as he relayed how Kit had told Roman the news very icily after Dominique and Professor McGonagall had left, before making her way back to bed.

"Why are you sleeping on the table?" he eventually asked, finally stopping to draw a breath.

"I got about two hours sleep last night," Dominique informed him miserably. "And guess what? Professor McGonagall gave me five-hundred hours of detention."

"Five-hundred hours!" Louie yelled, causing plenty of heads to turn in their direction. "Of detention! That's got to be a record!"

"Five-hundred hours," a Ravenclaw in the year above Dominique exclaimed. "Bloody hell, I think that is a record."

Soon people were weighing in on the situation, the general consensus being that the punishment was incredibly severe for what Dominique had done, and also that nobody knew of any cases where anyone had gotten close to that amount. Usually if the offence was that serious they were just expelled.

Just before they were all due to head off for lessons, Louie wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks, Dominique," he whispered in her ear. "For defending my honour and all."