This is a one-shot on the start of the relationship between Dom and Gerald. There's a bit more than meets the eye with that couple and I wanted to go a bit more in depth.

To say that Dominique Weasley was a puzzle was like saying toast was made of bread. She had been his private obsession for the better part of five years. Ever since she had entered the school, with her confidence, bold statements and gorgeous looks, she had intrigued him.

Gerald Lynch knew that if anyone found out how closely he had watched her, he was sure to be labelled a stalker. As she passed by him, flipping her hair and laughing, throwing her head back, Gerald gave an inward groan. She didn't make it easy for him to stop either.

His best mate, Michael Birch, nudged him, laughing. Ever since their first year, when Dominique had come in to the Great Hall to be sorted, Gerald hadn't been able to take his eyes of her and Michael never let him live it down.

"She is rather fit, isn't she?" Michael asked with a grin. Gerald scowled at him and said,

"Don't talk about her like that."

Michael rolled his eyes and they kept walking. Gerald's eyes never left Dominique even as she turned around and almost automatically caught his gaze. She smiled that secret smile she saved for him and winked, as she always did, ever since she had realised he was obsessed with her when they were eleven.

He sighed and made his way to Charms, cursing himself and his inability to do anything about his feelings.

As he took his seat, early, in the classroom, he pondered his predicament, blithely ignoring Michael as he spoke.

Dominique Weasley pretended to be full of confidence and swagger, but that wasn't all there was to her. She had moments where she would just look off into the distance and the saddest smile he had ever seen would grace her perfect face.

He often caught her in the common room, reading old love stories and sighing over them. When anyone passed by her, she would tuck the books away and her facade would be back on faster than he could snap his fingers.

Those were the only times she was alone, anyway. She had a large group of friends and was never far from her best mate and cousin, Molly. Having never been on a date before, Gerald was pretty sure he would make a fool of himself if he asked her. So, he waited for her to be alone, knowing that she never would be, and using that in his excuses for never asking her on a date.

He learned about her little by little, and yet he knew that with Dominique, he would never stop learning.

Earlier that year, at the Welcome Feast, he had been disappointed when she had moved down from where she usually sat, two seats away from him, to be with her cousins who had just been sorted into Ravenclaw. His disappointment was short-lived, however, when she spent most of the feast eye-flirting with him. Michael had called him a pansy for not just getting up and speaking to her, but he found it beyond difficult.

He was also Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He had been given the honour in his Fourth Year. They had joined the team in their Second Year. Dominique was a Chaser and Gerald was a Beater. Any normal person would use that as a chance to interact with her. Instead, if he had anything to say, he would speak to all the Chasers, instead of singling her out.

The Quidditch field was one of the few places where he actually saw her enjoy herself. She would throw her head back while flying, just enjoying the feeling, and he would be entranced. He had once even slammed into a goal post, quickly righting himself before anyone but Michael had seen.

It wasn't easy for him when they were playing, either. During matches, she played rough, and the other team usually returned the favour. There were only so many Bludgers he could hit at opponents trying to knock her off her broom before one actually succeeded. So far, he had been lucky.

Realising that class was about to start, he glanced at his watch before eyeing the door, expectantly. He saw Dominique and Molly step inside the classroom. He froze and stared as they walked past him. She glanced at him, smiling sweetly and said,

"Hi, Gerald," before making her way to her seat. Michael smacked him across the head.

"You idiot. That was a perfect in for you to ask her to Hogsmeade!"

As he rubbed his injury, he turned to see Dominique rummaging in her bag. When she glanced up and saw him still there, she smiled and winked. He immediately blushed and turned back to his desk, pretending to read his textbook.

"C-can I write to you this summer?" He asked, hesitantly. She smiled at him and whispered,

"Sure," before pulling out parchment and scribbling her address on it, handing it to him.

As she waved, walking off, he couldn't quite believe his luck.

She had been exiting the Hogwarts Express with the rest of her family and looked up, seeing him doing what he usually did, which was stare at her.

He wasn't sure if she really had forgotten something in her compartment, or if she had felt sorry for the pathetic, simpering git that he was, but she had gone back in, giving him the ideal chance to speak to her alone.

When he had entered, she had been facing the door, as if waiting for him. He had frozen at once and not been able to speak.

"Did you want something, Gerald?" she asked, in that soft, sweet voice that made a shudder go down his spine. It was then that he realised that that was the most she had ever spoken to him before.

All at once, he had blurted his request and now, holding her address in his hand, as if it were the holy grail, he left, grinning like a lunatic.

Dear Dominique,

I know you're probably wondering why I'm writing to you all of a sudden, but I just wanted to get to know you better.

So, if I may, can I ask you some questions? I will understand if you don't want to answer and I honestly don't want to pressure you.

Gerald Lynch

Gerald,

I figured you'd be writing me for that exact reason. To get to know me. I'd like to get to know you as well. We're both in the same class, and we've been on the team together for ages, but I don't feel like I know you personally.

I really don't mind. Ask away.

Dominique

Gerald's eyes had glazed over when he read her response and he had been a pansy for quite a while, clutching her letter to his chest and spinning... in a manly way, of course.

Dominique,

I'm glad you feel that way.

What's your favourite colour?

Gerald

Gerald,

That's a very easy way to start off. It's red. What's yours?

Dominique

Dominique,

Mine is blue. What's your favourite food?

Gerald

Gerald

Well that's a very bloke-like answer. Why do you like blue?

I appreciate a good Bouillabaisse when my mum's up to being very French. You?

Dominique

Dominique,

I'd prefer not to talk about the reason I like blue. I just do.

I don't think I've ever had that... Or can even spell it, really. I like fish and chips. Typical, but true. Did you want to get into Ravenclaw or did you want to go to Gryffindor like your sister?

Gerald

Gerald,

Now I'm very intrigued and I insist that you must tell me. Why do you like blue?

Fish and Chips isn't typical. At least at my home it isn't. We grew up with a mix of French and British cooking, but that's my dad's favourite as well. Since, honestly, I don't usually care what anyone outside of family likes, I don't have much to go on, though.

I've never really given houses a thought after Sorting, to be honest. For a while when I was younger, I wanted to attend Beauxbatons like my mother. I've since been glad to have changed my mind. I love Hogwarts and Ravenclaw, and there's now a large family presence there, so it feels like home as well. Does that make any sense? How do you feel about Ravenclaw?

Dominique

Gerald was grinning like a maniac when he realised that her letters were getting longer and more personal. She was offering information now. Did she really want to get to know him? She wasn't just putting up with him being a nosy git? Merlin, he hoped so.

Dominique,

I like blue, because they're the colour of your eyes. I know I sound like a right idiot, but it's a fact and I won't lie to you about it.

My mum always tells me that my obsession with Fish and Chips comes from the Irish in me. I'm half Irish on my dad's side. I'm glad that even if you're not usually interested in anyone outside of family, you're still talking to me.

I'm also rather relieved that you didn't go to Beauxbatons. I would have never met you if you had. And I'm glad that I met you.

It does make sense. Being part-Irish makes me appreciate big families and get-togethers. If you didn't know, I have three younger brothers, who are all also in Ravenclaw. My whole family, as far back as anyone can remember, have been in Ravenclaw, so I couldn't even think of going anywhere else.

Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.

Gerald

Gerald,

I am extremely flattered by the reference to my eyes. Usually, blokes don't remember what your eye-colour is unless they're looking right at you. Thank you.

I did, in fact, know you were Irish and have three little brothers. I've done my research as well, you know. I don't know why, but I don't mind telling you things. I may not seem it, but I don't usually open up to people on a personal level. It's different with you, I think.

I'm glad I met you too.

Having your whole family in one house puts pressure on you, though, doesn't it? I was the first Weasley to ever be sorted into a house that was not Gryffindor and I was terrified that my parents would be disappointed until two minutes later when Molly got sorted there as well. Then, it seemed fine. If we were disowned, at least we'd have each other.

There's my something no one else knows. Not even Molly. She thought I was perfectly fine with being sorted there.

Dom

P.S. You can call me that if you want. Only family is usually allowed, but I'll make an exception for you.

When Gerald read that Dominique Weasley had done research on him, he almost fainted. When he read that she was glad to have met him and that she didn't usually open up to people? His back hit the bed at once, mooning at the ceiling. When he read that she was letting him call her Dom, something, he knew she reserved for family, he had run around hugging his family, scaring them half to death.

Dom,

I'm very intrigued by the fact that you did research on me. I didn't know that.

Can you believe that the Summer is almost over? I'll be seeing you next week. In person. Have you gone to Diagon Alley yet to get your things? Maybe we can go together?

I know what you mean about the pressure. I spent my entire train ride praying that I'll be put in Ravenclaw. I've never been more Catholic in my life. My mother would have been proud. When the Sorting Hat was on my head, I didn't hear a word. I was too busy begging it to have mercy. Then when it did scream Ravenclaw, it took me a little while to realise it said something. Very embarrassing. I don't know if you remember it.

I have lucky boxers that I wear to Quidditch matches. That's my something that no one else knows.

I really wish I had something that no one other than family calls me, but there isn't. Most people call me Gerald. My brothers call me Ger and my mum calls me Gerrie. Please don't ever call me that.

What's your favourite potion?

Gerald

Gerald,

I can't believe you didn't know I was doing research on you. I was very obvious about it. I think I even asked your friend Michael some questions at some point. Very covertly, of course. Chaser to Beater about other Beater and all that.

I did go to Diagon Alley already, actually. I'm so sorry. Maybe we could meet in the train, instead?

Oh so you were the bloke who held up the rest of the Sorting? Good to know.

I have to say, when you mentioned something that no one else knew about, I didn't think it would involve underwear. As a return on the very embarrassing admission, I'll offer one up as well. I too, have lucky knickers for Quidditch games. They have little Quaffles on them. My aunt Gabrielle bought them for me. Rather more risqué than I would usually wear, but she's French, so I forgave her.

I won't call you anything you don't want me to. Until I see you, at least. I make no promises about then.

My favourite potion, and it's going to sound stupid, is Amortentia. Yours?

Dom

Gerald almost choked when he read what she had written about her knickers. As he got a rather uncomfortable feeling in his lower stomach, he groaned and sighed. This was a very common reaction when it came to Dominique Weasley.

As he read the bit about meeting on the train, his eyes widened and he grinned. Was that a date?

Dom,

I truly had no idea. I'll be killing Michael for not telling me.

I'd love to meet on the train. Do you want to meet at 10?

I'm not going to lie and say that I wasn't... fascinated by the idea of your lucky knickers.

You can honestly and without fear of reprisal, call me anything. I swear I won't mind.

That isn't stupid at all. Mine is Veritaserum. I've always found the fact that you can't help but tell the truth a very interesting concept.

What does Amortentia smell like to you?

P.S. If this seems rather short and blunt, it's because I've had a bit of a situation since you mentioned your knickers and I don't do my best thinking under these circumstances.

Gerald.

Gerald,

Or should I call you Oliver? I've always rather liked that name and since I can call you anything...

You make me laugh more than anyone I know. I rather like that.

10 it is. I'll see you there.

When I read about your "situation" I can't say I wasn't... fascinated, was the word you used, right?

Veritaserum, to me, has always been a scary thought. I'm not usually honest to anyone but family. And now, you. So, the thought of someone being able to ask me anything and I won't even be able to avoid answering, has something of a torturous quality to me.

I've only ever smelled it at my Aunt Gabrielle's earlier this summer, to tell you the truth. She uses a very diluted form for her line of perfumes. It smells like roses, peppermint and something else I'd really rather not talk about. What about you? What does it smell like?

Dom

P.S. If it helps your situation in any way, I'm finding myself in a very similar predicament.

Gerald groaned, pressing his head back, hard, against the bed and reaching down to adjust himself slightly as he read the letter. Dom would be the death of him.

Dom,

I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I don't think I've ever looked forward to anything with quite this amount of anticipation ever before.

I'm glad I can make you laugh. Your laugh is beautiful. Like you.

I've never thought of Veritaserum in that way before. When you put it like that, it really doesn't hold that much appeal.

Why won't you tell me the last one? I won't tell anyone, I promise.

Amortentia smells, to me, like freshly cut grass, baking bread and.. you. Your shampoo to be more specific. Please don't ask me how I know what your shampoo smells like.

P.S. You haven't helped my situation at all and I hope you're pleased with yourself.

Oliver

Gerald made his way onto the Hogwarts Express at 9:30 and knew he needed the time to calm down. He was far too eager to meet her and he might do something stupid. He hoped he could talk to her in person.

He didn't want to do what he usually did and clamp up like an idiot.

At 9:45, the door to the compartment he had been pacing in opened. He glanced up sharply and saw Dominique leaning against the door, smiling.

"Hi," she said, softly. He swallowed and stuttered,

"H-hullo."

"I read your letter," she said, holding it up for him to see and she looked away, a blush gracing her face.

This was the Dominique he wanted to know. The one who wasn't so sure of herself and just a little vulnerable.

"Yeah?" he said, stupidly.

"How do you know what my shampoo smells like?" she asked with a small grin, still not meeting his eyes.

"I-i sniffed your hair in Quidditch practice a few times."

She flushed an even darker red.

"Oh."

They were quiet after that and he murmured,

"I didn't think this would be awkward."

"It shouldn't be," she said with a smile and walked over, determinedly. He froze exactly where he was and could do nothing but gape as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for... a hug.

"I've always wanted to do this," she said, softly and it broke him out of his stupor long enough for him to wrap his arms around her waist. She pulled away and was about to let go when he tightened his hold on her. Her pale blue eyes flashed up to his and he saw the confusion there before he dipped his head and kissed her. It was soft and sweet, but he felt a shudder run through them both and she pulled away with a soft moan that had him wanting to do it again.

"W-wow," she said, smiling up at him. The vulnerability in her eyes was obvious now and he sighed, happily before leaning down to kiss her again.

She pulled away this time and moved her hands to his chest, seeming to steady herself before smiling winningly up at him.

"That was my first kiss."

Shocked and feeling a bit like a conquering warlord, he grinned.

"Really?"

She nodded and was about to step back, but his body didn't seem to want her to do that. He gripped her hips in his hands and held her tight.

"Don't go," he whispered. She nodded and leaned against his chest.

"It was mine as well, you know," he said, softly, inhaling the scent of her.

"Really?" she asked, pulling back to look at him. He nodded and asked,

"Does this mean that you'll go out with me?"

She flushed before looking away and stuttering,

"I-I don't know."

Confused, he frowned.

"What do you mean?"

She glanced up as someone passed the compartment.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" she whispered, looking at him, imploringly.

He knew that if she looked at him like that, he would always give her what she wanted.

"Luggage compartment?" he asked after a quick mental scan of the train.

"Yeah," she said softly and pulled away from him, leaving him bereft. She took his hand, though, and pulled him out of the compartment they had been in.

When they entered the luggage compartment, which was not very full, since it was where excess luggage was stored and almost no one was there yet, she pulled him behind a small pile of trunks.

"It's not that I don't want to," she said at once, leaning against the wall, and he took up a spot in front of her.

"What is it, then?" he asked, lifting her chin so that she was looking in his eyes.

"I-i'm scared," she admitted.

Without thinking, he took her mouth in another kiss. He pulled away only to move on to her neck.

"I won't hurt you," he said, softly, between kisses. She was clutching at him now and one of his legs was wedged, rather firmly, between hers.

"You don't know that," she said, softly, and he heard tears in her voice. He pulled away to look at her quickly and she turned her face to the side, her hair blocking her. He reached out, pushing her hair behind her ear and turned her face back to him. Tears were gathering, but she was obviously trying not to let him see.

"I won't. I love you," he said, quietly. Her eyes widened and she seemed almost amazed with him.

"Why me?" she asked.

He looked at her, wondering if she was serious, but from the obvious puzzlement in her face, she really didn't know.

"You're perfect," he whispered and she scoffed.

"I'm not perfect. I have relationship issues when all I'm surrounded by are perfect couples. My parents, uncles and aunts, even my sister!"

"You're perfect to me. You're beautiful, smart, a damn good Quidditch player," that earned him a small smile, "when you laugh, you make me happy. In fact, for the past five years, I've just been happy seeing you smile. When you're not there, there's a spot in my chest that's empty and when I see you, I'm whole again. I don't know how else to tell you this, but it's true. I've loved you for longer than I can remember."

She caressed his face, her hand trembling, so he continued.

"Maybe you're scared because you figure you have to have a perfect relationship. But you don't. You don't have to be perfect. At least not with me. I just want you. The real you."

Dom had started smiling but a tear fell out of her eye.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry. If you cry you'll break my heart," he said, kissing her tears as they fell on her cheek. She turned her head to the side, away from him, and he felt stung for a moment before he heard her say, almost silently, making him lean closer to hear her,

"Do you know what the Amortentia smelled like?"

He shook his head and she turned to look him in the eye to say,

"You."

His heart, which had, a few minutes ago, been feeling like it was being ripped from his chest, soared at the one word.

He kissed her deeply, pressing her back against the wall. She threw her arms around his neck and returned the kiss enthusiastically.

It was what seemed like only minutes later, but was probably a couple of hours, since the train was moving, when he heard gagging noises behind him. He turned quickly, blocking Dom with his burly build. At some point, he was quite sure, he had loosened a couple of her buttons. He tugged at his clothes, trying to cover the rather obvious proof that he had, in fact, been snogging Dominique Weasley. When he turned, he saw, to his relief, that it was only a couple of her cousins. Molly and Rose, if he wasn't mistaken. Which, considering where all his blood was circulating, he might have been.

"Do you mind?" Dom asked, snappishly and grabbed his hand, pulling him off towards the compartment they had abandoned. Relieved to find that no one had since occupied it, he took her hips in his hands and made to kiss her again.

"Wait," she murmured, gripping his face in her hands. He looked at her adoringly and she smiled back, kissing him softly before pulling away,

"Does this... I mean... Am I-?" she seemed very nervous, tucking her hair behind her ears, "Your girlfriend?" she finished, glancing up at him,

"Merlin, yes," he answered quickly, "I-if you want, that is," he amended.

"I do," she said, grinning, "I have to go to the compartment with my family, but I want to sit with you for dinner. Is that okay?"

He nodded, grinning, and bent to kiss her again.

Suffice to say, she didn't make it to the compartment with her family.

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!