A/N: This story will have ten unrelated chapters, each focusing on a different relationship.

This one takes place in the year 2026, the Hogsmeade weekend little before Christmas holidays' beginning. Hugo and the Scamander twins are in their final year, Louis is in fifth, but he was born in October, so he's already 16. Davina is Neville's youngest and Rigel Draco's. Johnny, 'little boys' and Juliet are four youngest children of George and Katie Weasley's (in my little world such thing as George/Angelina doesn't exist).

Lorcan/Dominique

Dominique Weasley was sitting in the Three Broomsticks waiting for her date to show up. She tasted her Firewhisky and thought that she probably should have suggested some other place where they would meet, because the pub was already packed with students – and since it was snowing outside, it wasn't very likely that the crowd would disappear very soon.

Well, at least most of the cousins had already graduated – Hugo, Johnny, Louis and the little boys were only ones left, little Juliet hadn't even started Hogwarts. Little boys were too young to go to Hogsmeade yet, and Johnny couldn't have cared less who she was dating, but if Louis or Hugo would see her with Lorcan Scamander... Well, then the whole family would know about this date before tomorrow.

Oh, the joys of having a large family.

Dominique took another sip from her drink and glanced her watch. She had a bad habit of being always late, so this time she had wanted to be sure and had come almost twenty minutes early. No doubt it was better than arriving late, but it had its disadvantages – like that now she had to wait. And Dominique had never liked waiting.

The door opened and Dominique was quick to check, who was coming. Not Lorcan, but another blonde boy, Rigel Malfoy, his arm wrapped possessively around Davina Longbottom's waist. Dominique smiled while imagining Uncle Neville's face if he saw how 'Slytherin's Bad Boy Number One' was holding his precious little girl.

Dominique tapped her blue nails against the table, looking out of the window and wishing to see Lorcan's fair head somewhere. Madam Rosmerta's pitying glances were starting to make her nervous. But she had nothing to worry. Lorcan was honest, reliable boy, not at all the type that would stood anyone up.

Right?

Suddenly Dominique saw one tall boy with short, light hair. No, not Lorcan, but Louis. And – was he with a girl? Dominique forgot Lorcan completely for a moment and almost pressed her face against the cold window. Yes, it was Louis, walking through the main road holding some girl's hand and grinning like an idiot. How sweet. Those two were probably waddling to Madam Puddifoot's, where they would spent a grossly romantic evening snogging and cuddling.

Dominique grimaced and checked her watch once again. With a little startle she noticed that her date should arrive any moment now. She arranged her red hair nervously and was just about to order another drink, when she saw the third familiar blonde boy that day, and finally the right one.

Lorcan had walked in, his hair wet and messy. He didn't see Dominique right away, and for a short moment he thought that she hadn't come at all, but then his heart jumped and he saw Dominique sitting in a corner table next to the window. She waved at him and Lorcan smiled to her.

He ordered one Butterbeer and then hurried to Dominique. He sat down and knew he was smiling more goofily he had ever smiled.

"Hey."

Lorcan's cheeks were pinkish from the cold wind outside, and Dominique felt how her heart started to melt. "Hey", she said quickly. "I was already thinking that you'd never come."

His expression changed from ecstatic to worried. "Am I late? I'm sorry, Dom, I didn't think I'd –"

"No no no!" Dominique interrupted with a little laugh. "You're just in time, that was really perfect timing! I just came little too early. It isn't your fault, you are –" She stopped and realised that she was not only rambling, but also blushing. Damn those Veela genes for abandoning her completely. Why both Victoire and Louis were tall, slim blondes who never blushed? So unfair.

Embarrassed silence. Dominique felt her cheeks burning even more fiercely and hoped she would have ordered another drink, so she didn't have to sit there and look like an idiot. An overwhelmingly soppy idiot. Lorcan was of course starting to wonder why he had asked her to go out with him in the first place. She really knew how to mess everything up. You could always think that once you are over twenty, you have some sense in your brains, but no. Wait, was Lorcan saying something?

"Did you see Louis?" Lorcan asked and put his mug down.

Dominique's spirits rose immediately. She loved family gossip – as long as it wasn't about her, naturally. "Yeah, he walked by little before you came. Who is that girl?"

"Her name's Eden Appleton, she is a sixth year Ravenclaw", Lorcan told and Dominique found herself staring at his eyes like some psycho stalker. "Really nice, I've heard. A prefect."

Well, she wasn't going to be pleased with such a little information when it was about her little one's girlfriend. Dominique furrowed her brow and tried to remember any Appletons from her school years, not succeeding.

"Appleton... That's a Muggle name, right?"

Lorcan nodded. "Yes, she's a Muggle-born."

"Great", Dominique grinned. "Granddad will be pleased."

"I don't think he is very serious with her. Probably it will be over before Easter. If you ask me, Arianne Goldstein is the one he will end up with."

After Dominique had laughed at Lorcan's professional matchmaker's voice, another silence followed, but this time it wasn't embarrassed. Lorcan drank his Butterbeer slowly and Dominique was starting to relax.

And then he took her hand.

Dominique inhaled deeply and realised she was blushing again, and kept hoping no one would notice it. A little voice in her head told her how foolish she was, acting like a silly sixteen-year-old little girl. She was twenty-three, for Merlin's sake!

She smiled uncertainly to Lorcan. "I'm such a pedophile, am I?"

He grinned, still holding her hand. "No, you're not. I'm already seventeen."

"Hooray."

He squeezed her hand. "Hey, look, it doesn't snow so much anymore. Do you want to go for a walk or something?"

Dominique looked at his eyes (in those trashy novels Victoire kept reading, his eyes would have been described as "lovely cerulean blue eyes") and nodded. A walk sounded nice. Very nice, actually.