Dominique Weasley would never claim to be beautiful, not because she was aware of the fact, but simply because it wasn't something she would wish to acknowledge.

What was the point be? What did she gain from it when it made her so incredibly uncomfortable?

Even as Mellie was tugging her down the corridor towards the dungeons she could she people staring, eyes running down her body almost by instinct.

Appraising, glazed, stupid.

It was almost too much to handle, even though after such a long time she should have become desensitised to the constant looks. But no, every stray eye and brief glance sent shivers down her spine, and not the good kind. The kind that made her wonder if throwing up would displace some of that unquestioned admiration. The kind that caused something akin to grief to rise in her throat.

Dominique could not tell you why exactly she struggled so much with the simple matter of people looking in her direction; surely attention should make her feel more human. More present. But instead of reassuring her, the feeling of people's eyes on her body made her feel invisible.

Not in the sense of that she wasn't there, the very fact they were looking at her proved as much. But more the fact that she knew with certainty that they weren't seeing her. Only her body.

Rationally, Dominique knew it was the same for everyone. Nobody got seen for who they truly were, they were coloured by house allegiance, blood status, appearance, gender, the list went on. But the likes of her mother and Keire didn't seem to have a problem with accepting that and commanding that people looked deeper. In fact, not one person other than Dominique appeared to have an issue with being seen as nothing more than a body.

No one even seemed to notice.

Dominique kept her eyes fixed on the floor as Mellie kept a firm grasp on her wrist to pull her along, not paying a deal of attention to where she was being led other than to make sure she didn't trip down flights of stairs. She relaxed a little once they were walking through empty corridors, the strange tightness in her chest seeming to ease somewhat.

Looking around to see unfamiliar paintings gossiping on the dark stone walls, Dominique realised that the lack of windows must mean that they had ended up in the dungeons of the castle, but while she might have expected it to be cold, she was strangely warm. Perhaps due to the matter of it being far colder outside that anything seemed warm by contrast, but she suddenly found herself acutely aware of the way Mellie's hand way wrapped around her wrist. There was very little that was intimate about the touch, except for the way that the tip of Mellie's thumb pressed ever so slightly into the base of her palm.

Without even thinking about it, she tugged her hand away, more out of confusion than anything else, and immediately regretted it, even though Mellie barely seemed to notice.

"We're here," the Slytherin declared happily.

Dominique looked back and forth along the empty corridor, blinking in confusion. "We're where?"

Mellie shook her head. "Tickle the pear."

Dominique allowed her eyes to flit from side to nervously, wondering what in Merlin's name Mellie was going on about. The corridor was completely empty other than the two of them, with no illusive pieces of fruit in sight. "Er... Sorry?"

"The pear," Mellie said seriously, nodding at a painting that hung on the wall opposite them. "Tickle it."

Dominique narrowed her eyes slightly and turned to the painting, which turned out to be a bowl of fruit. She searched for the pear and found it nestled at the edge of the bowl, fairly small within the painting's overall composition. With a brief look of disbelief towards her friend, Dominique reached a hand out to touch it.

Her fingertips rested on the canvas that was smooth with layers of paint, before she took a deep breath and crooked her forefinger slightly. If Mellie was attempting to play some form of prank on her she had certainly fallen for it, but it didn't really seem to be the other girl's style. And the leap of faith paid off, as the canvas swung aside to reveal a busy room full of house elves.

Dominique jumped back, eyes widening, but her heart rate quickly returned to normal as she realised that this must be the kitchen. A wave of warmth washed over her from the heat of the ovens as she turned to Mellie with a look of surprise that the girl had known to bring her here. Her Uncle Ron had mentioned that the kitchens were under the Great Hall, but he'd never specified how to get to them, mainly just talking fondly about the house elves that had helped during the battle of Hogwarts.

The two of them were pulled into the room within a few seconds by a group of house elves who were quick to greet Mellie and seemed to welcome Dominique without question. As they were pushed to sit down on stools by the fireplace, a house elf who was tiny even by the standards of the species came bounding up to them, liquid sloshing out of the mugs they she held on a little tray. A few of the nearby house elves hurried to clear up the mess, shaking their heads at her, although she didn't seem to notice.

"Miss Igwe, oh Miss Igwe. Flea is so glad you are here! Flea--" she seemed to remember herself. "Would Miss and Miss's friend care for a drink?"

Mellie accepted the half empty mug of warm milk with a warmth that Dominique hadn't known her capable of. "Thank you Flea," she said, taking a sip. "Is that honey? It tastes amazing! What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"This," Flea declared grandiosely, setting down the tray. She raised her left hand with great preamble, and with a snap of her fingers and a loud crack she disappeared. An excited squeal came from behind them, and the two girls spun around so fast they almost fell off their stools to see Flea jumping up and down behind them. "Did you see? Did you see? Miss Igwe! Did you see what Flea did?"

"Hard to miss something as awesome as that Flea," Mellie enthused. She seemed about to go on, but Flea cut her off in her excitement.

"Guess the best part Miss!" She didn't wait for Mellie to make a guess. "Fresco can't yet! Fresco is always claiming to be better than Flea at everything, but Fresco is already eighteen whole months old, and Flea is only fourteen months--"

"At least Fresco can pass drinks without spilling them," a house elf with dark eyes scolded. "Flea should be focusing on her work rather than snapping her fingers all over the place. Disapparation is not necessary for Flea or Fresco until they will be much older."

They picked up the tray that Flea had left and walked off, a grumpy expression on their face, leaving Flea looking disheartened.

"I think it's really cool," Mellie whispered to her, leaving the house elf's eyes to brighten considerably. She glanced around nervously before taking a seat at their feet, head propped on her hands, elbows on knees.

"Who is Miss's friend?" she asked curiously, pale eyes focusing on Dominique.

"This is Dominique, but I'm sure Minnie is fine," Mellie told her, before quietly explaining to Dominique that Flea sometimes struggled to remember big words.

They spoke with Flea for a while longer, with the younger house elf appearing far more interested in their lives than speaking about herself now that she'd gotten the matter of her new disapparation skills out of the way. She constantly asked after what they were doing in classes, most of her excitement revolving around potions. Dominique answered as well as she could, touched by the house elf's enthusiasm, but while many others dropped by to offer them a greeting or morsel of food, Flea was soon perceived to be slacking off.

As she was dragged away to wash dishes, she called out a sentence that made Dominique's blood run cold. "Goodbye Miss Igwe, Master Minnie!" And then the little house elf was gone, as dread and elation writhed just under Dominique's skin.

She tried to place the feeling that seemed liable to burst her chest, but she couldn't classify it better than terror or joy, and it left her paralysed with shock.

A few infinite moments later she turned to Mellie. "D-Did Flea just say Master?"

Mellie looked mildly surprised, her expression neutral next to what Dominique was feeling in that moment, strangely euphoric yet on the verge of being sick. "I think she did. I suppose it must have been a mistake."

"A mistake?" Dominique's voice was pitched strangely high, foreign in her own ears.

"Yes," Mellie gestured at her clothing. "You're wearing a jumper and jeans, and from the front you can't really see that your hair's tied back, so it just looks short. Not to mention that Flea is really quite young and we aren't even her own species. It isn't surprising that she might not pick up on all the physical cues that show another onlooker you're a girl, I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

Dominique swallowed. She knew that Mellie was right, and that logically Flea hadn't known that she was saying anything wrong, but somehow she felt disappointed at the way her friend laid it out so clearly. She didn't know what tentative hope Flea's words had been building inside her, but Mellie's logic had quickly dismantled it.

"How did you find this place anyway?" she asked quickly in an attempt to change the subject.

Mellie chuckled, going along with it. "You aren't going to believe me."

Dominique pushed aside her inward turmoil and tilted her her with a smile. "Go on?"

"Ricky Jordan gave me directions here one time, not out of generosity or friendship or the like though. He was camping behind the statue of Tizard the Tyrannous on the second floor waiting for Professor Shoebridge to pass and he got hungry. But he wasn't willing to leave his little hideout to get food, so I was dispatched for snacks when he saw me walking past, in return that he wouldn't drop one of those water balloons -- you know, the ones that are impossible to dry -- on me. Originally I didn't want to help at all, but looking back it was such a good decision. I've been here through Flea and Fresco and a lot of others being born, not to mention it's so warm compared to the Slytherin common room during winter, and all the house elves are actually incredibly happy to chat, tell stories, and giving someone food is like their dream. Honestly it's kind of like having a family away from home."

Dominique could see what she meant. Even though the house elves were bustling backwards and forwards busily, their little corner was slightly removed from the action, and the wide space made the warmth comforting rather than stifling. Not to mention that numerous desserts had been pressed on them in the half hour they have been sitting there. It seemed a shame to let them go to waste as Dominique was honestly completely stuffed, but Mellie seemed bottomless as she would polish off whatever Dominique couldn't eat.

It definitely reminded her of the time spent in the Burrow when she would sneak her cousin James Sirius her leftover food under the table so that Grandma Molly didn't become concerned that she wasn't eating enough. It wasn't that Dominique didn't love her grandmother's cooking, but the plates were often stacked so high at the Burrow that you could barely seek to see people behind them.

The warm memories of home stayed with her even as she was curling up in her bed later on that evening, but as she faded off into sleep Dominique's mind returned to the mistake that Flea had made, and the strange, fragile, hopeful feeling started to sprout again in her stomach.