October Twilight

October Twilight
Chapter Thirteen
“The Art of Change"

June 2nd, 1974
4th Year

The invitation arrived at three o’clock in the afternoon on the Tuesday after the A.W.E sit-in had ended. Dorcas could scarcely believe what she was reading. She thought it had been pure luck and the eccentricity of Dumbledore and Sprout that had spared her punishment. Now, she was beginning to rethink that assessment. Professor Slughorn, Head of Slytherin House, had just invited her to a Slug Club dinner.

Annabel grinned appreciatively, but didn’t seem as enthusiastic about it as Dorcas was. She hadn’t joined the Association for Werewolf Equality and she wasn’t part of the Slug Club. Professor Slughorn often unknowingly (at least Dorcas hoped it was unknowingly) caused tension among the student body by picking favorites.

“Have fun,” was all Annabel said before heading into the Charms classroom.

Lily had been much happier for Dorcas. After dinner, they met up in the library for their usual study session. Lily told Dorcas all about the dinners, parties, and how Slughorn behaved towards his favorites while they checked Arithmancy equations and Rune translations.

“Anna’s not pleased,” Dorcas stated, crossing out her answer and rewriting the correct translation.

“Of course she’s not. She doesn’t like werewolves and you’re in the Slug Club now because you took a political stand on werewolf equality. She’ll get over it. We’re too good of friends to let some dinners and parties once a month come between us. I mean, if the Marauders can stay friends through it, we certainly can.”

“All right, then,” Dorcas frowned. “I’ll let you explain that to her, because she’s never had a problem with you being in the Slug Club.”

“That’s because I’m not her best friend. I’ll talk to her if you won’t, but I think she should hear that from you.”

“Hear what from whom?” Black asked, crashing onto the chair beside Dorcas.

The girl lifted her chin and turned away from him. Lily chuckled softly at his expense. He really couldn’t take a hint. Even after Dorcas had hexed him, he still thought their date had gone relatively well. Lily’s smile slipped off her face when Potter sat down next to her.

“Hey, Evans,” he greeted, messing up his hair and flashing her a roughish grin.

Black reached across the table and snatched the invitation from Slughorn. “Looks like Meadowes is going to be joining us at dinner tomorrow night.”

“Well done, Meadowes,” Potter said. “Always knew you had it in you.”

Dorcas arched one eyebrow skeptically. “Had what in me, exactly?”

“You know,” he answered, surveying Lily’s homework and tossing it onto the tabletop again. “Popularity.”

“Is that all you care about?” Lily demanded. “You’re pathetic, Potter.”

“Come on, Evans,” Black cajoled. “You know you enjoy the attention as much as we do. You’re just afraid to show it because none of your goody-two-shoes friends are in the Slug Club. Well, now Meadowes is, and you can finally join our side.”

Lily’s cheeks were splotched with pink and her lips pressed into a thin line. “Firstly, Black, don’t ever think that an invitation to join ‘your side,’ as you call it, is ever what I wanted. Secondly, some consider modesty a virtue. And lastly, if you ever accuse me of being afraid of anything again, I will personally make sure you’re terrified of even peeking out of your dormitory. Do you understand?”

Dorcas was hastily shoving her and Lily’s homework into her bag while her best friend lectured Black. She was torn between laughing at his affronted expression and trembling from nervous excitement. Lily and Amos Diggory were in the Slug Club and were wonderful people. Others, like Black and Potter, were not so nice. All of the Slug Club was popular, smart, and talented. Although she might not say it, Dorcas knew that she was intelligent and talented. Popular, she was not.

Before her impulsive speech in the Great Hall the previous week, most people had not known her name. Her scope of acquaintances ended with Hufflepuffs and the fourth-years. She spent nearly all her free time with Annabel, Lily, and Remus, and if none of them were around, she sat alone in the Hufflepuff Common Room or in the library reading or studying.

She didn’t know how she was going to handle being thrust into a room full of the most popular people at Hogwarts. For the next twenty-four hours, she fretted over how she should act, what she should say, where she would sit, and what she would wear. The nervous chatter of her own voice in her head drove her to distraction.

Twice she nearly severed the tentacles of the writhing Basebark root in Herbology, and the good favor she had earned from Professor Sprout was nearly depleted. Class with Professor Slughorn was the worst, however. He seemed to be watching her extra carefully, as if sizing her up to see if he had made the right decision. Her potion making skill had always been dubious, but with Slughorn checking her cauldron every five minutes, it all but disappeared. She managed to produce an acceptable Strengthening Solution that any half-wit with a self-stirring cauldron could have whipped up.

Finally, Wednesday night arrived. Annabel had disappeared earlier in the day, which annoyed Dorcas. She needed help deciding on her outfit. When she’d asked Lily about what the other girls wore, she had just rolled her eyes. Lily was like that, able to disregard what others thought about her. Dorcas wasn’t.

After pacing, cursing, and kicking her trunk in frustration, Dorcas decided on the new outfit her mother had bought her in Madam Malkin’s over Easter holiday, but she put her Hogwarts robe on over the clothes, in case everyone else was wearing school uniforms. At ten ‘til six, she left the Common Room and headed towards Professor Slughorn’s office for dinner.

Lily was waiting for her at the bust of Bernadette the Beautiful like she had promised. She rolled her eyes at Dorcas’s new clothes and freshly applied make-up. Lily hadn’t yet seen the need for all that junk. Lucky her, Dorcas thought, because it really was a pain.

Professor Slughorn’s office was decorated to look like a fancy French restaurant in Diagon Alley. House-elves in tea cozies hurried around the room carrying stacks of fine china plates, filling goblets from shining silver pitchers, and arranging gleaming platters of succulent food on the long rectangular table. A number of students were already sitting at the table and chatting comfortably with one another.

“Ah! Miss Meadowes, welcome to dinner! I’m so glad you could come. And Lily, of course, always a pleasure,” Slughorn said, rising from his seat.

He ushered the two girls to the other side of the table, chatting gaily the whole time. His round belly shook as he waddled across the room, gesturing to students and giving Dorcas unnecessary introductions.

“I know you two are such good friends, so I sat you together.”

Dorcas saw for the first time that each table setting had name cards. She picked up the thick parchment card, amazed at the intricate gold script. Dorcas Anstice Althea Meadowes; Fourth-year; Hufflepuff House. Professor Slughorn, or rather some house-elf, had gone to a lot of trouble to find out her middle names just to put them on a place card.

“And I put Sirius on your other side,” Slughorn finished, winking at Dorcas.

The card slipped from her fingers and she fumbled to catch it as it fell. Another hand closed around the delicate card just before it hit the floor. Dorcas looked up into the gray eyes of Sirius Black. She didn’t have to see the sly smirk on his lips to know some suggestive comment was forthcoming.

“I know I have that affect on some girls, but I expected more of you, Meadowes.”

Dorcas snatched the card away from him. As she sat down and put the card back in its place, she lamented that the corners were crushed and the perfect crease dented. It was such a trivial thing, but so beautiful too.

“Just ignore him, maybe they’ll leave us alone,” Lily muttered, glaring at Potter as he took his seat on Black’s other side.

Dinner was a relatively peaceful affair. The French cuisine was completely new to Dorcas, but she liked it well enough. Slughorn kept everyone’s attention focused on himself as he boasted about his former students who were now famous. When desert arrived, he turned to other matters, namely the students currently sitting at the table. He surveyed each face, as if trying to recall what they had done to merit an invitation. Some of the students had been in Slug Club since their first-year and their presence required no explanation, or so it seemed.

“Of course, of course. A simply fabulous last goal, even if it did mean Slytherin lost,” Slughorn said to Elijah Diggory. “Hufflepuff does have a spectacular team this year, between you and your brother.” The professor took a deep drink from his goblet. “But there’s more excitement in Hufflepuff House than just Quidditch, eh?”

He turned to Dorcas with inquisitive eyes. Her hand froze with a forkful of truffle halfway to her mouth. She laid the utensil down quickly and cleared her throat. Her eyes shifted from Slughorn to the other students to the tablecloth and back. She didn’t know what to say without repeating what she had already said in the Great Hall.

“It’s been ages since there has been a proper political movement among the student body,” Slughorn began. “The Minister of Magic herself wrote to Dumbledore for an explanation. Terrific, really, Miss Meadowes, absolutely wonderful. Are you considering a career in politics? Perhaps in the Magical Creature Liaison Department? I haven’t many contacts in that area, I must admit, but an old student of mine, Abbott Spencer (he’s a member of the Wizengamot now, you know), started there. He’ll be looking for another assistant in a few years, I shouldn’t wonder.”

Dorcas listened to all of his with her mouth hanging open. She wanted to shake her head or say that she did not want a career in politics, because there was entirely too much public speaking and she didn’t really see herself working for the Ministry, but no words would come out. The longer Slughorn kept talking, the more excited he became. For a moment, Dorcas thought he might love the sound of his own voice so much that he would forget to let her speak.

“Why the interest in werewolf equality specifically? Why not house-elves or trolls or goblins?”

Dorcas’s jaw moved soundlessly for several moments. Her brain refused to think of a reason that didn’t include ‘One of my best friends is a werewolf.’ Finally, she found the words to explain that she was interested in total magical equality, but werewolves had just happened to come up in class.

“How marvelous!” Slughorn exclaimed. “Total equality. What an absolute utopia! Now, shall we gather around the fire for a more comfortable conversation?”

Dorcas blinked a few times and glanced at Lily, who was trying very hard not to laugh.

“He’s like that. Don’t worry, he’s impressed. He wouldn’t have even commented if he wasn’t.”

“You’ll get used to it, Meadowes,” Potter assured her, moving past the two girls.

“Yeah, you’re one of us now,” Black added.

“I’m not one of you!”

The words had left her mouth before she could stop them. Black and Potter turned around. After her speech in the Great Hall, they were only mildly surprised to hear the normally demure Dorcas Meadowes raise her voice.

“I’ll never be an arrogant, pompous prat like the two of you. I don’t want the whole school fawning over me or running away when I raise my wand. Unlike you, I don’t enjoy egotistical power trips.”

“You’re popular now, Meadowes, whether you like it or not. You’re in the Slug Club now. Nothing can change that,” Potter responded, not taking any offense at her insults.

“You have no idea what I can change, Potter,” Dorcas said darkly.

When she saw that Potter was about to demand she elaborate, Lily grabbed her friend’s elbow and pulled her towards the door. Lily was scowling deeply the whole time she dragged Dorcas around the castle. Finally, she shoved her friend into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Why did you say that?” Lily shrieked.

The sorrowful weeping coming from the last stall ceased abruptly and the silvery form a chubby with girl glasses peered over the swinging door.

“Why don’t you just shout it out for the whole school to hear?” Lily continued, pacing in front of the sinks. “I know you don’t like them, and neither do I, but threatening them like that will only make them more curious. You really don’t want those two trying to find out your secrets, Dorcas, because they will get it out of you, no matter what it takes.”

“I don’t want to be in the Slug Club, Lily!” Dorcas whined. “I like having three really good friends and being able to sit alone in the library without half the school bothering me and going to lessons with Dumbledore every week and no one even noticing because they hardly know me. It’s hard enough keeping this secret when only a fourth of the school knows my name. How could I do it with the whole school worshiping me? I hate that they do it to Potter and Black, I don’t want anyone doing it to me.”

Lily leaned against the porcelain basin of the sink that was always dry (the tap hadn’t worked in “ages,” or so Myrtle said).

“You know, they are right about one thing. You can’t change what other people do, Dorcas. Whether you like it or not, you’re destined for popularity. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate. What’s not to love about that? It’s up to you what you do with that popularity.”

“But, Lily, I can change what people do. If I wanted to, I mean.”

Lily took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. “No, Dorcas, you can’t. You might think you can, but you can’t. Will you make me a promise?”

“Anything.”

“Never, under any circumstance, tell me anything about my future. I’m sure it won’t work, Dorcas. No matter what you See, you’ll never be able to fully understand until you get it into your head that you can’t change anything except your own thoughts and actions.”

“But, Lily, what about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? What if the Ministry can’t stop him? He’s after Muggle-borns.”

Lily’s lower lip trembled as she shook her head. “No, no exceptions. Ever. Promise me, Dorcas, you must.”

Dorcas slouched against the sink on the far end of the row. “You’ve wanted to make me do this for a long time, haven’t you?”

Lily nodded. “I only realized tonight how much I need you to promise me. You just threatened to change Black’s and Potter’s futures, Dorcas. That’s serious.”

“I didn’t mean it,” the other girl mumbled.

“I know you, Dorcas. You would go to any lengths to protect your friends and family, even that.”

“If that’s what you really want, Lily. I promise I won’t tell you anything about your future.”

Lily nodded slowly, not realizing that her best friend had intentionally made a promise with a loophole.

*~*~*

June, 1979

Rain splashed against the blank windows of the apartment complex towering over the empty London street. At the corner, a Muggle vehicle hummed loudly at the stoplight, and in the distance, a dog howled pitifully at the moon. A flash of lightening was accompanied by the low rumble of thunder and a flash of lightening illuminated the gray sky.

Inside the complex, a young woman wrapped in a blanket sat beside the window and gazed pensively at the rain drizzled on the glass. Her amber eyes were vacant and, judging from her expression, she was a million miles away from the stuffy sitting room littered with half empty bottles and used dishware.

“Dorcas?” a man’s groggy voice called.

Sirius appeared in the hallway, holding his wand aloft and shielding his eyes from the magical light that cut through the darkness of his drawing room. Dorcas didn’t turn when he called her name or stir when he crossed the room and eased onto the window seat beside her. She was wrapped in the duvet from his bed, her bare back and tousled hair a pleasant reminder of what had happened hours before.

“I don’t know if I should be more concerned that you’re not responding or that you couldn’t sleep after I was done with you.”

Dorcas started when Sirius touched her shoulder. She pulled the duvet tighter around her body as she turned to face him. He looked dead on his feet, his normally perfect hair messier than James’s and his gray eyes watering from the brilliant light of his wand tip. She was touched that he had come looking for her, presumably concerned about her absence.

“What was that?” she asked distractedly.

“Never mind,” he yawned. “You’d probably slap me for the impropriety of the comment anyway. Come back to bed. There are still a few hours before dawn.”

“I can’t sleep until I can stop thinking.”

She turned back towards the window. Silence fell between the couple, and the rain pounding on the roof three stories above filtered through the sleeping building. Sirius wrapped one arm around Dorcas’s shoulders. Her bare back connecting with his naked chest brought fresh memories of the passionate coupling of their new relationship, and Dorcas couldn’t suppress the pleasurable chill that passed up her spine.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

His warm breath danced along her skin and rustled stray hairs that tickled the back of her neck. Her eyes slipped closed, and she fought hard to remain focused.

“How we got here.”

“Well, I believe it involved a mad dash from the Temple of Apollo and a midnight flight home. Then you professed your undying desire for certain carnal pleasures I happened to be all too happy to accommodate.”

“That’s how it went, was it? I thought it involved a few hours of lengthy discussion and pleading and promise-making on your part.”

“The truth is probably somewhere in between.”

“Probably, but that’s not what I meant. I was thinking about last June, when we left Hogwarts. I remember being so furious at Lily for making me sit in a train cabin with you and James. I could barely contain my loathing of you.”

“Actually, I don’t think you contained it at all.”

“I tried.”

“And failed.”

Dorcas allowed herself a tiny smile. “I’m just trying to process this past year, I guess. So much has changed, and I don’t think things will ever be the same again.”

“Sure they will. When Voldemort is dead and the Wizarding world is at peace, things will get back to normal.”

She shuddered at the Dark Lord’s name. “You seem so sure, Sirius. How can things ever be normal when I’m an orphan, after I’ve learned that Dumbledore doesn’t trust me, now that Lily and Remus aren’t my best friends anymore?”

She leaned forward suddenly, and the separation of their bodies sent goose pimples spreading over their skin.

“Ever since I opened my mind to the Sight, I haven’t been able to block out the images.”

Sirius reached out convulsively to comfort her, but withdrew his hand, suddenly remembering what a simple touch could do to her mind. Dorcas pulled the duvet tighter around herself again and sank down into the fluffy warmth.

“I’ve seen things that will never leave me. Some of these things must be memories, but I could swear they’re premonitions. I can’t make sense of any of it, and I think I Saw … my--my own … death. And I’ve seen the inside of Azkaban, and I don’t know why or through whose eyes.”

Tears sprang to Dorcas’s eyes and clogged her throat. Her voice shook more the longer she talked. Heedless of the consequences, Sirius embraced her tightly.

“If I can’t make sense of what I’m Seeing, how can I change these terrible things?”

“It’s not up to you to change them,” Sirius returned immediately, almost automatically.

It was what Dumbledore and her father had always said, but Dorcas didn’t believe it anymore. The premonitions had begun so simply. It wasn’t difficult to keep a secret about a pop quiz or a crush. So much more was a stake now.

“Lives depend on it, Sirius.” Her eyes turned towards the window again. “I keep thinking that if I can figure out how I ended up here, then I’ll know where we’re all going. If somehow I can understand the path we’re on, I’ll be able to predict where these paths will lead.”

“Whatever we’re doing now, yes, those actions have consequences, but they’re not written in stone or in the stars. You have a very unpredictable … unscientific gift.”

“Then why has everything I’ve predicted come to pass?” she inquired coldly.

“Because you made it happen,” Sirius answered plainly. “We’re not puppets of the cosmos, Dorcas, we make our own destiny.”

Dorcas let Sirius lead her back to the bedroom. He fell back asleep quickly with one arm hooked around her waist. She lay stilly, her jumbled thoughts making sleep impossible.

Maybe Sirius was right and all her premonitions had come true because she made them so. In that case, she wasn’t seeing other peoples’ futures at all, but rather the consequences of herself meddling in their lives. If that was true, then Lily and James would die because of something she would do … or had done. Had she been wrong to try and change the future by telling Sirius? Was that what ultimately led to their deaths? And if that was true, then should she tell someone about the oracles at Delphi so they could look out for Sirius? Or would that decision make the prophecies come true?

Dorcas squeezed her eyes shut, holding back the tears of frustration prickling behind her eyes. She didn’t know what to do, and the people she used to turn to for advice viewed her ability with suspicion and doubt. Dumbledore would be livid that she couldn’t perform Occlumency anymore, Lily would scold her, and Remus, the one person who would listen and not judge, hadn’t been home since James’s and Lily’s wedding.

Her only confidant was Sirius. The possibility still seemed unfathomable to her. Only a year ago, she had taken every opportunity to deflate his overlarge ego. Now, she was … was she his girlfriend? She was uncomfortable with that title, knowing how Sirius had treated most of his girlfriends in the past. She preferred to think they were very, very good friends. There was trust and companionship, the basis of friendship, but not necessarily of a romantic relationship. That took something more. Something Dorcas wasn’t sure she was ready to admit feeling.

“Have you slept at all?”

Dorcas started, her eyes slipping back into focus. Sunlight was pouring in through the window above the headboard. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the sunrise.

“No.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and collected her clothes scattered around the room. “I have to go to the Ministry today and make some arrangements for Darius. I can’t believe it’s almost the end of June already.”

Sirius climbed out of bed, snatching his discarded robes off the floor. “When you’re done, owl me, all right? James and Lily invited everyone over tonight.”

Dorcas paused, on the verge of making an acidic comment. She knew Sirius would have told James about seeing Voldemort in Greece, and James would have told Lily. The cards seemed stacked against her, and she didn’t see any way of permanently patching her friendship with Lily.

“Are you sure that includes me?” she asked, pulling on her shoes.

“Of course it does. Why would Lily not invite her best friend?”

“I think, Sirius, that James is Lily’s best friend, and that she didn’t invite me because she suspects I’ve been put under the Imperius Curse and am going to kill you all tonight.”

“Don’t joke about that!” he hissed. “It’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

She grabbed her knapsack from the coat rack and slung it over her shoulder. It was much lighter now that she wasn’t lugging around textbooks.

“Dorcas—”

“I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

She kissed him lightly before heading out the door and racing down the steps.

The rain had stopped sometime in the night, and the only reminder of the storm was the humidity hanging in the air and the occasional wet patch of pavement. Dorcas was too disconcerted to bother with magical transportation. She needed some time to clear her head, so she continued walking through the crowded streets when she could have easily Apparated into the Ministry atrium.

Lately, she had felt like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. With her parents dead, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named searching for her, Order duties, the mistrust of her oldest and dearest friends, and Darius coming home, Dorcas felt like she had nowhere to turn for some reprieve. Sirius had an amazing ability to shrug off his troubles and have fun. She needed that from him, not the conversation he’d been trying to have.

At the moment, her biggest concern was getting everything in order for her to become Darius’s legal guardian and settling Angelica with her Muggle family. If she focused on her friends too much, she would become overwhelmed and no good to anyone. It was better that she be there for Darius than trying to fix all her troubles at once. She would think about her next problem when this one was settled.

The fog of worry still hadn’t cleared when Dorcas Apparated to Godric’s Hollow later that afternoon. Her visit to the Ministry had been less than comforting, to say the least. Barty Crouch’s assistant had interrogated Dorcas for hours about her daily activities and habits, because Mr. Crouch didn’t feel a nineteen-year-old was mature enough to finish raising her fourteen-year-old brother. She had made the grievous error of insulting Crouch and demanding to know why the Magical Law Enforcement Squad was involved anyway. She had the necessary documentation, but the process of attaining it had taken all day and put her in a foul disposition.

“How did it go at the Ministry?” Lily asked, leading the way through the atrium.

Dorcas sighed and shrugged. “As good as anything can go there lately.”

The two young women entered the drawing room a moment later, and Dorcas was struck by how different the Potter’s home looked now that Lily lived there. Colorful flowers in beautiful vases replaced Quidditch trophies; there were no dirty dishes or cans of fizzy drinks lying around; and the furniture had been reupholstered with dusty pink and white fabric.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa drinking butterbeer while Pettigrew was losing badly to James at a game of wizard’s chess. Dorcas paused, eyeing the short, chubby man warily. She could hardly believe she had considered telling him what she had heard about Sirius in Greece. He was a poor wizard, and she doubted he could make a significant change. Still, he was the only one left to tell with Remus constantly away. If she was going to try and change what she’d heard, Peter Pettigrew was her only hope.

Sirius put his arm around Dorcas’s shoulders and pulled her close to his body while the others discussed dinner plans. If Dorcas had heard the plans to magically char steaks instead of waiting an hour for them to cook on the grill, she would have joined Lily’s protests, but she was straining very hard to listen to what Sirius was whispering in her ear.

“They’re your friends, Dorcas, no matter what. No one here thinks you’re going to turn traitor and kill us all. We’re--they’re frightened because you don’t realize what you’re doing with the Sight.”

Dorcas eyes narrowed. “What? Did you talk to them about what I said this morning? And what do you mean, I don’t know what I’m doing? I’ve had the Sight all my life, I think I know what it can and cannot do.”

“Dorcas, the future isn’t written, and we all know that, but you don’t. You think you can change something you’ve Seen, but you haven’t Seen the whole future. You’ve only Seen the outcome of your own actions.”

Dorcas shook her head. “You don’t understand, Sirius. It’s easy to say that when you’re not the one having these premonitions! You don’t see people suffering and dying. You don’t have to live with that knowledge.”

“Actually, I do. You told me about--”

“Oi, Padfoot, are you going to help me with these steaks or just gnaw on the bones?”

Sirius glanced at Dorcas one last time before leaving the room. She remained frozen on the couch, his accusatory words piercing something deep inside of her. Yes, she had told Sirius about James’s and Lily’s deaths, but for a reason. She knew Sirius, and he would make sure they didn’t die. But who would protect Sirius?

That was her final thought as she rose from the couch and stepped into the hallway. Lily was busy carrying plates and utensils to the picnic table in the backyard. There was only one other person left inside, hovering around the refrigerator. Pettigrew was trying and failing to open the butterbeer bottle with the Muggle utensil Lily had in the drawer.

“It’s easier with your wand,” Dorcas said.

Pettigrew grinned sheepishly and tossed down the metal instrument. He made for the door without opening the bottle. Dorcas guessed he didn’t want her to see if he cast the charm incorrectly or used the wrong charm altogether. He had always been bad about that in school. Just as he reached the door and was about to go outside, Dorcas summoned all her courage, took the plunge, and made her decision.

“Hey, Peter? Can I talk to you for a minute?”