October Twilight

October Twilight
Chapter Twelve
“Encounters”

September 30th, 1973
3rd Year

The newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor stood in front of his third-year class surveying them silently. Jonah O’Brien had been a Ravenclaw during his days at Hogwarts and didn’t particularly care for the practical side of Defense. At least, that’s what he had told the mixture of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws on the first day of class. He had been even less enthused after the first test when he discovered the third-year Ravenclaws were taking fifth place in grades to Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, and Dorcas Meadowes. Upon further checking, he had discovered that this was true in all their classes. Since then, he had taken to glaring at Dorcas during lectures.

His announcement that the class would finally be using their wands came as a great surprise. There was a boggart hiding in his desk, and he wanted his third-years to deal with it. The way he smirked arrogantly at the Hufflepuffs revealed his true intentions. He was desperate to prove that Ravenclaws were better. At least, that’s what Dorcas thought.

Annabel didn’t believe it, and Jeremiah Abbott had laughed at her expense, but Dorcas wouldn’t change her mind because two of her friends didn’t agree with her. She knew how Ravenclaws operated. O’Brien probably thought the Hufflepuffs would faint upon seeing their greatest fear embodied. Dorcas knew better. She and her classmates weren’t “leftovers” from the Sorting like some people claimed. They were honest and kind-hearted, and that took a different kind of courage than the Gryffindor variety.

“Can anyone tell me what a boggart looks like?” O’Brien asked, once all the students had crammed themselves into his office.

Dorcas raised her hand, as did three-fourths of the Ravenclaws. She growled in frustration and rolled her eyes. She hated having classes with that House.

“Bloody know-it-alls,” she mumbled.

Annabel stifled her laughter while Sun Kim rattled off an unnecessarily long answer and received five points for it. After ten more minutes of lecturing and practicing the incantation, O’Brien ordered the students to form a line. Dorcas and Annabel queued up behind Sun and in front of their other Housemates.

The Ravenclaws took their time challenging the boggart. Half of them, so intent on memorizing the theory, had completely neglected the wand movement. When it came to her turn, Dorcas was in such a good mood, she knew she wouldn’t have any trouble defeating the boggart.

She stepped in front of the hissing python with her wand ready. With a sharp crack! the snake disappeared. It was replaced by a great black dog, growling ferociously and baring its huge teeth. Several people gasped, and a few students shuffled away from the Grim. Dorcas faltered, her mind painfully blank as the spectral dog approached.

She had expected a chimera, the most frightening of Greek monsters. She could have handled tying together its many serpent heads. She didn’t know what to do to make the Grim funny. Death wasn’t funny! There was no way to make it funny! She groaned audibly as the truth hit her. She hadn’t dug deep enough when contemplating her greatest fear. Yes, she was terrified of the serpent monster, but not because it was a many-headed snake. She feared it because no one had ever survived an encounter with a chimera. It was the inescapability of death that truly frightened her.

“Perhaps I should take over?” O’Brien drawled, a cold sneer lifting one corner of his mouth.

Dorcas swallowed thickly. She refused to fail this lesson and prove O’Brien’s point. She had always done well in practical Defense before, and she was determined to do well now.

“It’s just a dog, not death. It’s just a dog. It’s just a dog,” she whispered. She took a deep breath, flicked her wand and cried, "Riddikulus!”

With another crack! the Grim turned into a shaggy black Labrador gnawing on a fuzzy pink slipper. Her classmates laughed appreciatively, and Dorcas moved to the back of the line.

“Half marks, Miss Meadowes,” O’Brien announced dryly as she passed. “Had that been a real Grim, you would have died before you could have defended yourself.”

Dorcas paused, not sure how to respond. On the one hand, she had never talked back to an adult in her life. However, her dislike of O’Brien and Ravenclaws in general prompted her answer.

“Well, sir,” she replied, forcing herself to stay calm. “Considering that the Grim is a spectral dog, there really is not much I could do it in the first place. So really, I could stare at it unharmed until I died. No pun intended.”

“You should leave the cheek to your friend Evans, she does it much better. Fifteen points from Hufflepuff.”

*~*~*

May, 1979

As the sun settled behind the horizon, Dorcas rose from her place on the balcony. She had been sitting on the ledge, looking out at the city that had been her summer home for eleven years. Athens was glorious at sunset, with the fading light painting the Acropolis and the Parthenon red and the crashing waves creating a never-ending song. It was easy to see how the Greeks lived so joyfully, and Dorcas missed it dearly.

“It’s time?” Sirius asked, rising from the bed.

“It’ll take us half an hour to reach Delphi. All the tourists should be gone by then.”

Dorcas had tried to deny that the witch she and Sirius had been sent to find was at Delphi. For two weeks, they had searched magical sites from Sparta to Thessalonica to Crete. Finally, Dorcas had to admit that the witch Dumbledore had sent them to find was at Delphi, the most magical place in all of Greece.

Muggles flocked to Delphi, claiming that the god Apollo had once resided there and some believed that he still did. Many Muggles claimed to have “felt something” there. Indeed, they had felt something. There was so much magic around Delphi that even some Muggles acknowledged its existence.

What concerned Dorcas wasn’t the myths about magic at Delphi, but the fact that no one, Muggle or magic, had ever been able to prove why there was magic there. Most wizards had come to believe that it was the place where Dark magic had first been created thousands of years ago. No respectable witch or wizard dared go there.

It was these arguments that finally convinced Dorcas Delphi was the only place in Greece He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would care about. And Dumbledore wouldn’t send two Order members to search for anything or anyone that wasn’t important to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

On Sirius’s motorbike, they had crisscrossed the country in a fortnight. The speed and charms on the bike had greatly eased their search. Dorcas had come to love the vehicle almost as much as Sirius did. She had never been much of a flyer, but when she sat on the back of the motorbike with the wind whipping her hair and the sun above the clouds warming her skin, she could understand why so many wizards enjoyed Quidditch.

Sirius landed the motorbike on an empty stretch of motorway at the base of the mountain. Dorcas craned her neck to see the ancient monument where the oracle was said to dwell. The silvery last quarter moon cast dark shadows along the craggy foothills and broken stone paths leading to the temple of Apollo. The white rocks gleamed in the moonlight, and the branches of olive trees swayed in the chilly breeze.

“Let’s go,” she said, pulling on a rucksack and thrusting another at Sirius.

“Can’t we just conjure up whatever we need like we did at all the other locations?” he sighed.

“If you think you can conjure up advanced spellbooks, ancient rune translators, and secrecy sensors, then I’d be happy to leave all this behind.”

Dutifully, Sirius shouldered the pack and followed Dorcas. At first, she led him along the tourist footpaths. Every few minutes, she would pause and glance around. Once, she crouched down and placed her palms against the steps.

“Are you doing it?” he questioned. “What do you See? Is she here?”

Dorcas opened her eyes slowly. “Considering that I don’t know what she looks like …”

Sirius fell silent, sufficiently chided by her snappy comment. She had been snipping at him a lot lately, not because he was doing anything wrong, but out of frustration. She had used her ability to search for Aradia, but hadn’t found a single trace of the witch anywhere. What she had seen were glimpses of Muggle tourists gaping at the splendors of Greece and Dark wizards practicing magic in the dead of night. She knew more about these future visitors than she wanted to and it was taking its toll. Sirius had been a great friend through it all. He stirred clover into her tea to help her sleep and powered root of narcissus for the headaches.

“Get off the path!” she hissed.

Without waiting, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the footpath and along the rocky cliffs.

“There’s no one coming,” he protested, peering down the steep slope.

“That’s what you know. Hurry up!” Dorcas barked. “Remember that I’ve just seen the future, not the present. Delphi isn’t a place we want to be seen. Especially not by the person who is coming.”

“Then shouldn’t we go back and wait to come until later?”

Although she was standing mostly in the shadows, Sirius could see that she was debating. Finally, she turned and began climbing up the slope again.

“I can’t say for sure when is safe. All I know is that he’s coming … soon.”

“Who?”

Dorcas ducked into a low hole in the cliff face and emerged into a domed cavern. Sirius followed after her, cursing in a low voice about wild animals and Dark wizards lurking everywhere. She laughed, but stopped abruptly when the sound echoed.

“What’s this? My brave Gryffindor is afraid of an animal?”

A slow smile crept onto Sirius’s mouth as he edged closer. “Your brave Gryffindor?”

Dorcas bit her lip and cursed silently. She hadn’t meant to say any of the thousands of thoughts that had been swirling around in her head for the past two weeks. In isolation from Lily and Remus, unable to vent her frustration, and without an effective Occlumency shield, she had been forced to deal with her emotions rather than superficially rage about them.

“This isn’t the time, Sirius,” she answered, moving away. “We need to find Aradia and go. Delphi isn’t a safe place.”

She laid her palms flat against the wall, and for a moment Sirius thought she was going to close her eyes and concentrate. Instead, she pushed on a flat expanse of rock. Next moment, an archway leading down a long, pitch black tunnel appeared in the rock face.

“How did you know …?”

“I Saw it when I touched the path.”

The moment Dorcas stepped inside, a series of torches flared to life. The fires sat in brass sconces shaped like chimeras and the flickering light reflected off the rough jewels embedded in the cave walls. In the stone of the narrow walkway was carved ancient Greek symbols older than the modern alphabet and heavily influenced by Egyptian hieroglyphs.

“Come on,” she whispered, moving down the path.

Behind her, Sirius stepped through the archway and was plunged into darkness. The secret door snapped shut, cutting off the moonlight just as Dorcas moved out of sight. He groped for his wand.

“Lumos!” He stared into the darkness towards his right hand. “Lumos!” he repeated. Again, nothing happened. “Lumos! Lumos! Lumos!”

“What are you doing?” Dorcas demanded, grabbing his left wrist again. “Come on.”

“My wand doesn’t work.”

“Of course it doesn’t. Do you think ancient Dark wizards wanted Aurors to come storming into their secret lair? No wand magic will work in here or in most historical magical places in Greece. That’s why so many Dark wizards come here. Only wandless magic or Dark magic works in places like these, and it’s a very rare Auror who can cast powerful spells without a wand or is willing to study and use Dark magic.”

For several minutes, Sirius followed Dorcas down the path. She had released him awhile ago, but he clung to her wrist with one hand and groped around with the other.

“Are you claustrophobic?” she wondered.

“No.”

“Then why are you cutting off the circulation to my fingers?”

“How can you stand it?” Sirius asked. “It’s so black in here!”

Dorcas glanced around at the sconces and elaborately tiled floor. “I didn’t think your family would opt for the ancient Mediterranean décor. It’s a bit too cheery for them, isn’t it?”

After a slight pause, Sirius chuckled appreciatively. “Yes, this pit of darkness would be too cheerful for the noble and most ancient house of Black.” He spat the last words with such venom that it sent chills up Dorcas’s spine.

“Pit of darkness? Isn’t that a bit strong? I mean, the ancients used these symbols. The chimeras are a bit frightening, but—”

“Chimeras?” Sirius asked, jerking backwards as if one of the creatures was advancing on him. His skull connected with a heavy metal object.

“Yes, chimeras,” Dorcas huffed impatiently. “Honestly, you act like you’ve never had a Defense Against the Dark Arts class in your life.”

Sirius looked dumbfounded. “Are you telling me that you’re willing to fight a chimera?”

Dorcas shook her head slowly, equally perplexed. “Stop messing around, Sirius. We need to find Aradia.”

“Not if we have to get through a chimera to do it.”

“What are you talking about?”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the path. He resisted and tried to pull out of her grasp, like a dog that doesn’t want to walk on a leash.

“I’m willing to try a lot of things, but fighting a chimera is not one of them!” Dorcas raised her eyebrows at him. He misunderstood the impatient gesture and added, “Not without a properly functioning wand, that is.”

Dorcas gave on final tug on Sirius’s hand. They stumbled into an antechamber filled with pale blue light. Overhead, a series of slits had been carved into the stone and the moonlight filtered in through the cracks. Six arches, identical to the one they had just emerged from, with ancient symbols carved in the stone, surrounded a fountain spewing tiny baubles of light.

Dorcas edged closer to the fountain, enchanted by the sparkling and splashing dots of light. In the floor of the basin was painted a perfect model of the night sky and the corresponding astrological signs.

“Oh, damn. There’s nowhere to go. I guess we’ll have to let someone else find the chimera,” Sirius intoned.

Dorcas grabbed Sirius just before he walked into the tunnel. She glanced down the long corridor, eyeing the sconces closely. They were indeed chimeras. Beside her, Sirius was staring into darkness, unable to see the rock wall right in front of his face.

“They’re just brass, Sirius. Merlin, you’re acting like a scared Ravenclaw. And there are plenty of options to choose from. Come look at the fountain.”

Sirius turned around slowly, studying Dorcas through the pale light. She was bent over, gazing intently at thin air.

“You know, most Hogwarts students use the phrase, ‘Scared as a Hufflepuff.’” When she didn’t respond, he moved closer. “Did that tunnel addle your brains?”

“What? No. Isn’t this beautiful?”

Sirius glanced around, first at the damp walls of the domed cavern and then at the rocky dirt floor Dorcas had motioned to. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very concerned about her mental health. Maybe he shouldn’t have encouraged her to use the Sight so much. Most Seers were a bit loony, possibly as a result of Seeing too much.

Dorcas placed her palms on the marble basin, leaning over further to peer through the lights. The painting of the zodiac began swirling rapidly until all the stars blurred together. Just as suddenly, it stopped dead, and Dorcas was staring down into the face of the Water-Bearer, the symbol of Aquarius.

She stumbled backwards, amazed and disconcerted at the same time. Somehow, the fountain knew her sign just by her touch. She swallowed thickly and rubbed her palms on her robes. What looked beautiful and alluring was often the Darkest of magic. Still, something drew her to the fountain. The sparkling lights seemed more than what they were, almost as if they were alive and teeming for release.

“Sirius, come here.”

He approached slowly, regarding her cautiously. “Touch the basin.”

He blinked several times. “What?”

“Touch the basin.”

“Umm … Dorcas. Look, maybe we should—”

She grabbed his wrist and forced his palm against the marble. Sirius jerked away wildly. “Holy shit! There really is something there!”

Dorcas made to answer him, but the words died on her lips. Sirius had stepped forward and laid one hand against the marble. Instead of spinning and stopping on his zodiac sign, the lights began to swirl frantically. The baubles splashed against the basin like so many glittering waves. As Sirius stepped away from the rim, three of the dots of light lurched over the side. They fell to the floor and shattered like glass. Sirius jumped backwards, having not seen the lights break. Dorcas watched in horror as smoky figures rose from the broken glass.

“… as the Archer rises one will be born to generations of …,” the first figure said.

“… darkness and despair shall …,”

“… born to guide and love the one who will …,” the third continued.

Together, the figures concluded, “… destroy he whom his family serves.”

Dorcas backed away from the fountain, her fascination turned to horror. The spheres were not just lights, they were prophecies. No, she thought, they were oracles. The fountain was the famous oracle at Delphi. Or rather, it was a place of storage for the oracles.

“What the hell was that?” Sirius asked.

His voice snapped Dorcas out of her trance. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Did you … did you hear that?”

“Breaking glass and voices speaking Greek? Yeah, I did.”

Dorcas turned away, fighting back the tears that stung her eyes. She had studied Divination more deeply than any other subject at Hogwarts. She had combed the Restricted Section of the library, absorbed Professor Almida’s lessons in ways that none of her classmates had, and even ventured into Knockturn Alley for some dubious objects and books. She knew that those oracles would have only leapt out of the fountain for the person they were made about. She had forced Sirius to touch the basin and now she was responsible for his future. She would have to think of someway to change it. Sirius had already had such a hard life. She couldn’t let anymore bad happen.

“Do you know why Delphi is famous?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t really pay attention in History of Magic.”

“No, Binns wouldn’t have taught it. We learned about it in NEWT Divination.”

“I didn’t take … Wait, Divination? You mean ….”

“You can’t see the fountain or the torchlight in the tunnel or the six archways or the ancient runes, can you?”

Sirius looked around again, as if looking for the tenth time would make something appear. “All I see is damp walls.”

Dorcas paused at each arch to read the symbols above it. She wished she had paid more attention to retaining knowledge rather than just getting good scores on tests. She knew Professor Vector had gone over ancient Greek runes before the OWL, but Dorcas had been so worried about Arithmancy, and so sure that she could learn ancient Greek on her own, that she had studied equations and conversions during the lecture.

“We should go this way,” she stated finally, pointing to her left. “I think it says ‘He who passes here passes unto knowledge.’ All the others refer to specific locations.”

“You think it says? How positive are you?”

She sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her hair. With a flick of her wand, the long tresses bound themselves in a ponytail.

“It’s about fifty-fifty. I never did well in ancient runes. I only know these because they’re Peloponnesian.”

“Hey! Your wand works!” Sirius exclaimed, not at all bothered by the runes anymore.

“Yes, my wand would work, since I am a Seer.”

“Well, let’s get this over with then.” He glanced around the cavern again with his brow furrowed. “I don’t like being unprotected.”

Dorcas walked through the archway. The rock formed a bowl-shaped path with tall spikes like groping digits rising high above the cave floor. For a moment, Dorcas was plunged into total darkness, and then the second antechamber appeared, bathed in dazzling pearly white light. A glittering river of oracles flowed between the cliff faces, and a narrow wooden bridge connected the two sides of the chamber.

Sirius stepped up behind her a moment later, massaging his forehead. “You could have guided me through, you know. I can’t see anything.”

Silently, she reached back and clasped his hand in hers. Sirius tightened his grip, and Dorcas began walking along the narrow path that zigzagged down the cliff face. Thin beams of moonlight entered the chamber through cracks in the high ceiling. It was just enough light for Sirius to notice the precariousness of the path they were on.

When they reached the river and the bridge, Dorcas turned around to face Sirius. He was gazing at the other side of the chamber with narrowed eyes, searching for some way across the chasm or even for a reason to cross it.

“There’s a bridge.”

Immediately his eyes flicked to the gaping expanse at their feet. He seemed much more reluctant to follow this time. Dorcas took both of his hands in her own and stepped backwards onto the bridge. Sirius blinked several times and shook his head.

“You’ve no idea how strange it is to look down and see nothing.”

Dorcas smiled kindly, trying not to focus on her own fear of approaching the opposite side of the oracle river with her back turned.

“I think I know why Dumbledore chose us to come to Greece,” she said.

He looked up, momentarily distracted. “Yeah, because he knew you’d see all of this, or at least suspected it.”

“Yes, but there’s more to it. He needed someone who knew about my ability and trusted me. It would have been pointless to send someone who wouldn’t walk across an invisible bridge just because I said it was there.”

“Someone impulsive too,” he grinned.

“Yeah, that helps. But there is one other reason.” Sirius arched his eyebrows, prompting an answer while glancing surreptitiously at the nothingness below his feet. “I needed to trust my companion as well.”

Their eyes met for the briefest moment before they stepped onto the other side of the underground canyon. In that instant, something unspoken passed between them, a kind of shared epiphany about the subconscious feelings and thoughts they had both been repressing until that exact moment. Dorcas averted her eyes, the discomfort of exposure unnerving her first.

“It’s this way,” she mumbled, reading the runes above a pentagonal doorway.

Sirius followed her through the seemingly solid rock wall. To him, the next chamber looked exactly as the first had: damp walls covered in moss and pale moonlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling.

To Dorcas, this room was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Tapestries of ancient Eastern myths lined the walls, the pungent smell of burning incense filled the air, and brilliantly colored fabrics draped every surface from the stone floor to the plush settee. Murky images danced in crystal balls and reflected onto the pearly white mural painted on the ceiling.

While Sirius glanced around curiously, Dorcas’s attention was riveted by the woman standing in the far corner of the room. The moonlight cast blue shadows across her aged face. Her black hair was knotted, and her protuberant eyes reminded Dorcas of a frightened owl.

“You can See.”

It wasn’t a question or even a statement of surprise. Dorcas knew it was a recitation of what Aradia had Seen long before she and Sirius had ever arrived at Delphi, perhaps before they had even been sent to Greece.

“Another Seer has not dared come here for many, many years. And you so young! You must be brave—or foolish—to wander into this Dark place. Why have you ventured so deep into my sanctuary?”

The old woman’s voice was gravely with age and lack of use. Her penetrating glare disconcerted Dorcas, but remembering that Dumbledore had sent her for a reason, she ignored the prickling on the back of her neck. When she answered the question, Sirius started, not knowing there was a third person in the room.

“We’ve been sent by Albus Dumbledore. You are Aradia, aren’t you?”

“My, my, my,” the witch chuckled, shuffling forward. She limped slightly, and hump from permanent stooping stood out predominantly. “You’re quite a piece of work, aren’t you, Dorcas Meadowes? A Seer who does not want to know, a Legilimens who does not want to invade, and an Occlumens who meddles in everybody else’s business without sorting out her own first.”

Dorcas tried to ignore the building irritation. She wasn’t used to someone reading her future and using it against her. She didn’t like it one bit. She was especially chagrined that Aradia had looked into her future so extensively as to have been able to piece together her personality.

“Dumbledore said we would know why we were sent when we found you. Do you have a message for him?”

Aradia smiled grimly. “You’re like the deer who wanders blindly to the river. You deserve what is coming to you, girl.”

Sirius watched Dorcas’s expression change from wonder to annoyance to fear without knowing why. He heard only one side of the conversation and could only guess at what Aradia was saying. At least, he hoped Dorcas was speaking to Aradia and not conversing with thin air.

“And what’s that?” Dorcas snapped reflexively.

“Death. And worse.”

For a moment, Dorcas could neither think nor move. She hadn’t expected an answer to a rhetorical question. Even if she had wanted an answer, she wouldn’t have expected that particular prediction made so casually. She swallowed thickly before speaking again.

“Do you have anything to say to Dumbledore?”

Aradia remained silent for a long moment. “I’ll play the same part in this war as in the last.”

The witch turned slowly, her old bones creaking as she hobbled away. Dorcas could only watch her leave in stunned silence. Surely Dumbledore hadn’t sent her and Sirius so far with so little guidance when he could have guessed Aradia’s answer. She made to ask the other witch to elaborate, but Aradia spoke first.

“He’s here,” she gasped, peering over her shoulder.

Dorcas felt her blood run cold. She knew who Aradia was referring to without having to ask. She had Seen him enter temple of Apollo through the cave, but she had hoped he wouldn’t arrive so soon. She turned towards Sirius, who was watching her closely. When he saw that the color had drained from her cheeks and the wild, panicked look in her eyes, he rushed forward.

“What is it?”

“Run.”

Without asking questions, Sirius made for the door. Before they had taken three steps, however, a dark shadow appeared in the pentagonal archway. Sirius stopped abruptly. Dorcas whimpered softly as Sirius stepped in front of her, shielding her from the stranger. She clutched the back of his robes and peered wide-eyed over his shoulder.

From the shadows stepped a wizard tall and thin with skin as pale as parchment and maliciously gleaming red eyes. The wizard whose name so many feared to speak approached silently, his wand clutched in one hand and a calculating look in his inhuman eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you, Dorcas.”

His high, cold voice sent chills up and down Dorcas’s spine. She was trembling with unsuppressed terror. She felt Sirius shuffle backwards, his usually calm façade all but destroyed. His fear only increased her own. Inside the temple, his wand didn’t work, which meant she was responsible for their defense. She didn’t think she could ever summon the courage to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

The mere shadow of a sadistic grin twisted the Dark Lord’s mouth. “Sirius Black. I’ve recently met your brother.” Sirius stood up straighter, his jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed dangerously. “You’ll both spare yourselves much hardship if you join me now.”

“Never,” Sirius replied, his voice deadly cold.

“You stand between me and the weapon that can win me this war,” the Dark Lord said, raising his wand. “You might want to reconsider.”

“Death first!”

“No!” Dorcas cried.

An evil smirk curled the Dark Lord’s lips. “Don’t worry, Dorcas. I won’t kill your boyfriend … yet. Crucio!”

Sirius’s screams, magnified a hundred times, echoed off the cavern walls. He fell to the floor, his limbs bent in unnatural positions while he twitched and writhed under the curse.

“No! Stop it!” Dorcas screamed.

The Dark Lord lifted his wand, and Sirius’s screaming died away. Dorcas was trembling violently, and all rational thought had fled. She could no longer think clearly about escape or noble death. She wanted only to curl up and hide from the terror pervading her every fiber of being.

“Join me,” the Dark Lord commanded.

Her voice caught in her throat when she made to answer, and she could do nothing but stare at Sirius while he pushed himself slowly to his feet. When she looked at He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named again, she was startled to find his wand pointed at her heart.

“Don’t do it,” Sirius called. His voice sounded strained, but he stood up straight and refused to give into the pains of the Cruciatus Curse. “He’ll kill me even if you do.”

Dorcas’s eyes shifted between Sirius and the Dark Lord. She could not answer either of them, for the sheer terror that had seized her. Adrenaline surged through her paralyzed body and blood pounded in her ears. Everything seemed so distant, like she was viewing the scene through a long tunnel.

As darkness crept into the edges of her vision, a figure moved into the foreground, momentarily blocking her view of the Dark Lord, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn’t pay any mind to the newcomer. The wizened old witch raised her wand, but still the Dark Lord stared through her, demanding again that Dorcas join him. Next moment, he was thrown across the room by the force of Aradia’s spell.

Dorcas felt herself being ushered out of the room and vaguely heard Sirius urging her to move faster. She blinked furiously, but the dark edges of her vision would not go away. The wooden bridge over the river of oracles was just ahead. She moved past Sirius, grabbing his hand as she rushed towards the chasm.

Dorcas was violently jerked back into reality a moment later. Her vision cleared and her hearing returned to normal as her foot sank through the bridge. A moment too late, she realized that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had used magic inside the temple. The false bridge dispersed in a thousand tiny fragments, leaving nothing but the glittering lights of the oracles beneath her feet. She teetered on the edge of the chasm, one arm flailing wildly and her mouth forming a perfect O.

A thousand frantic prayers to gods she had never truly believed in consumed her thoughts. The rock beneath her feet crumbled and her heart jumped into her throat. This wasn’t how she had imagined her death. She was too young, too unprepared.

Her knee crashed against a sharp outcropping, tearing her trousers and slicing into her thigh. In that brief moment, when the momentum of falling ceased and pain exploded in her leg, a strong hand clasped around her forearm and she was hauled onto solid rock.

Dorcas spun around, threw her arms around Sirius’s neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. She let him lead her away from the edge, unaware that he was glancing nervously towards the pentagonal doorway.

The episode had been extremely bizarre from his perspective. He had watched Dorcas converse with an invisible woman, who apparently was on their side and had hexed Voldemort. The absurdity of it all was the least of his worries, however. At the most crucial moment, Dorcas had fallen to pieces and only she would be able to find a way out of Apollo’s temple.

“Dorcas, we have to go now. Look around. I need you to tell me where to go.”

“It’s no use,” she cried, pulling away. Tears were staining her cheeks, making her look even more terrified than she had a moment before. “He could have used Dark magic on anything!”

“We have to take our chances. Aradia can only hold him off so long.”

Dorcas wavered for a moment, glancing around nervously. She was caught between two options and both might result in her greatest fear. She could unknowingly lead herself and Sirius to their deaths or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would kill her after he’d used her for his evil purposes. She decided that if death was inevitable, then she was going to die on her own terms, not after a Dark wizard had broken and abused her.

“This way.”

She made for a narrow precipice that sloped along the cliff face and disappeared into the rock wall two hundred feet down. From there, she would have to trust her instincts more than her vision. Sirius followed behind her, keeping a tight grip on her hand. With every step, she tested the ground, praying that it was as solid as it looked.

Sighing in relief, Dorcas slipped through the archway. The tunnel was dim, but the brilliant light from the oracle river shone just enough for Dorcas to make out several runes on the wall. She traced them with her finger, not completely trusting her sight.

“I have no idea what—”

Sirius pressed his hand over her mouth. The instant she stopped talking, she heard disturbed pebbles causing the faintest scratching against the rock as they scattered over the edge of the precipice. Dorcas turned her head slowly, not daring to move her body or even breathe. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named stood squarely in front of the entrance, surveying the rock closely.

This time, Dorcas’s mind did not freeze as it had just moments before. From the pensive look on the Dark Lord’s face, she knew he could not see the archway because he was not a Seer. If he suspected it was there, however, he would surely have some Dark magic to make it visible.

Just as the Dark Lord raised his wand, the bright red light of a powerful curse came flying towards the entrance. For one heart-stopping moment, Dorcas thought it was going to pass through the archway, but it ricocheted off the cliff, spraying the Dark Lord with fragments of rock. Once again distracted by Aradia’s spells, he turned away from the hidden entrance and raced down the precipice.

Dorcas exhaled deeply, her shoulders sagging with relief. Sirius rested his head against the wall, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Listen, Dorcas,” he said a moment later, after catching his breath. “We have to go now, while Aradia has distracted Voldemort.”

She whimpered softly at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name. After facing him, she was even more frightened of the name than she had been before.

“You have to keep it together, all right? We can cross over the way we came if you can cast a strong enough Pontus Charm.”

She nodded slowly, looking away and blinking back the tears stinging her eyes. “I’m not like you, Sirius. I can’t face my greatest fear so easily.”

“Who said it’s easy?”

Dorcas looked up sharply. The truthful admission steeled her resolve, and she nodded shortly. She moved towards the archway, but stopped just before emerging onto the precipice.

“We could still die.”

Sirius nodded slowly, gauging her warily. “I’m not hiding here until I rot.”

The tiniest of grins crept onto her lips. “Neither am I. I’m only explaining now that I’ve decided to take my chances, I have to prepare for what might come.”

“And if the worst should happen?”

“I don’t want to have any regrets.”

With those words, Dorcas closed the distance between herself and Sirius. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pressed her lips to his. For a moment, Sirius didn’t respond, perhaps out of shock or revenge from all the times she’d done the same thing. When he did kiss her, Dorcas felt the passion in his kiss as she never had before. She wondered if it had always been there and she had ignored it, or if this was a development from their new friendship. They parted a moment later, the present danger preventing them from becoming lost in the kiss.

“Now let’s get the hell out of here,” Dorcas said, stepping through the archway.