October Twilight

October Twilight
Chapter Five
“Witch Under Pressure”

October 3rd, 1973
3rd Year

Dorcas hurried along behind Professor Sprout. For a plump woman, the Herbology professor walked quickly, and the considerably shorter student had to almost run to keep up. It didn’t help matters that Dorcas’s stomach was knotted up.

At breakfast, Professor Sprout had informed Docras that she would be meeting with Professor Dumbledore after dinner that evening. She had spent the rest of the day fretting over what she could have done to warrant a meeting with the Headmaster. In her distracted state she had made a mess of all her classes. Her Sleeping Draught had been nothing more than diluted clover congealed at the bottom of the cauldron, and she had accidentally repotted a mandrake in the wrong soil, which caused the plant to choke on a rock and die. Professor Sprout hadn’t been happy, which was probably why she was ignoring Dorcas.

The professor led Dorcas to an area of the castle that she’d never been in before. It was somewhere past the Defense Department between the hospital wing and main staircase. The hall was bare except for a bust of Devin the Deranged, who was murmuring in gobbledygook, and a magnificent statue of a gargoyle.

“Fairy Twinkles,” Professor Sprout said.

For a moment, Dorcas wondered why her professor had randomly mentioned the multicolored fizzing candies, but then the gargoyle jumped to the side revealing a hole in the wall roughly large enough for four people to stand comfortably.

“In you go,” the woman said, prodding Dorcas’s back until she stepped into the niche. “See you tomorrow.”

Before Professor Sprout had even finished her sentence, the floor beneath Dorcas’s feet had begun to rise. She rode the stairs up to a door with a shiny griffin knocker. Of all the staircases at Hogwarts, that had to be the weirdest, she thought.

“Come in,” Professor Dumbledore called when Dorcas knocked.

She opened the door slowly, peeking through the slit as she did so. Whizzing metal objects sat on every surface in the room and portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses snoozed in their frames. Professor Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk and waiting patiently.

“Have a seat, Miss Meadowes.”

He waved his wand and a chintz armchair appeared. Dorcas sat, her attention captured by the large bird asleep on a perch to the left of Dumbledore’s desk. It was a phoenix, one of the most fascinating and rare magical creatures.

“I suppose you know why you’ve been asked to meet with me,” Dumbledore said, peering at Dorcas through his half-moon spectacles. His voice was slow and gravelly, but calming at the same time.

“No, sir,” Dorcas admitted. “Professor Sprout didn’t tell me anything.”

“Oh dear,” the Headmaster said, but smiled as he said it. “Lemon drop?”

The girl gazed into the tin full of yellow sweets, confused as to what they were and why the Headmaster was offering her candy at such an unexpected moment. She accepted one of the sweets so that Dumbledore would explain the situation to her.

“You must be most confused! You, a model student, being summoned to the Headmaster’s office.” He laughed genially. Dorcas, who was trying to hide her dislike for the strange candy, only nodded. “I shall explain to my best ability why I have asked you to meet with me. Professor Almida has recently brought it to my attention that you possess a rare gift.”

Dorcas got along well with the Divination teacher, and she wondered why Professor Almida hadn’t talked to Dorcas personally rather than sending her to the Headmaster, who was rumored to not like Divination much.

“I must admit, Miss Meadowes, I am skeptical of the … ah, art … of Divination. As much as I value Professor Almida’s opinion, I wanted to speak with you personally so that I might see if her claims are correct or not.”

Dorcas had some idea of where this was going. She had not, until sitting through her first Divination lesson, thought that her usually correct premonitions had been anything other than intuition. She had tried to explain that later to Lily, but her best friend had only laughed and praised Dorcas’s creative mind.

“What would you like me to do, Professor? I haven’t memorized the tarot cards, but I could do a reading with my book open. I can do palmistry very well now, and my mum taught me astrology a long time ago.”

Dumbledore smiled peaceably. “I would like you to look directly into my eyes.”

Dorcas did as she was asked, not able to resist the Headmaster’s commanding nature, but not sure why he only wanted to look into her eyes. The office around her blurred and rippled as the memory of her first Divination lesson played behind her eyes.

She was taking Annabel’s cup and peering into the tea leaves … the shapes in the dregs were coming alive … a story was unfolding itself …

The office slipped back into focus as the memory ended. Dorcas blinked a few times, wondering what had just happened.

“Well,” Dumbledore said a moment later. “You certainly believe you have the Sight. Perhaps I could persuade you to give a demonstration? But as Professor Almida has said so many times, the Eye does not See upon command.”

Dorcas giggled at the airiness in his voice, and he smiled back at her.

“I’ll need your hand, Professor.”

“Oh, Miss Meadowes, I do not put stock in palmistry, I’m afraid. Age has given me too many lines for them all to mean something!”

“Yes, sir. I didn’t mean to read your palm, professor. I take it that you’d like a real demonstration, not just reciting what I’ve learned in class.” Dumbledore nodded slightly. “Then I’ll need your hand.”

Dumbledore reached across the desk, his sparkling blue eyes studying Dorcas intently. She grasped his large, wrinkled hand in her own and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and clearing her mind of all thought.

A tall man with waxy skin and glowing red eyes raised his wand … a ring buried in the earth below rotting floor boards … two dementors brought a sobbing young man into a dungeon … a phoenix burst into flame … a building in flames … an archway with the words Holly Falls etched into the stone … a white tomb beside the Hogwarts Lake …

Dorcas released Dumbledore’s hand and sat back in her chair, mulling over what she’d just seen. All the while, the Headmaster watched her closely.

“Sir, you need not worry about the man with red eyes. He’s no threat to you, but be careful with his ring.”

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Yes, it is as I thought. Professor Almida was right. Divination lessons alone will not be good enough for a true Seer. There are special skills which you will need to learn, Miss Meadowes. If you do not protest, I will arrange for these lessons with Professor Colburn--”

“No, Professor!” Dorcas had shouted before she could stop herself. It was as if looking into Dumbledore’s future had opened the floodgates. “Colburn can’t be trusted, especially not after you fire her in June.”

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, his eyes scrutinizing the student sitting in front of him.

“I see. Yet, it is crucial that you learn these skills. I will need to contact your parents before we proceed, of course. I cannot teach you Occlumency without their permission when I know how your father feels about such magic.”

“Y-You’re going to teach me, sir?”

Dorcas had never expected this meeting to end with the conclusion that the greatest sorcerer in the world should teach her such advanced magic.

“Yes, Miss Meadowes, I shall give you private lessons until such a time as you’ve mastered Occlumency or the need to hide your gift has passed.”

The latter part of the sentence confused Dorcas. She had been making predictions since she was a small child and no harm had ever come from it. Except for when she purposely told Darius to do something to get him into trouble.

“Oh, yes,” Dumbledore said gravely, “There is coming a time when the Sight will be a great hardship upon all those who possess it. You are so young. I would see you free of that burden.”

*~*~*

December, 1979

Lily arrived at Meadowes Manor well after when she had said she would arrive, not that Dorcas noticed. She was perched at her desk, studying the list of classes offered in the upcoming semester with growing frustration. Thankfully, she could give up Muggle Remedies, as only one semester was required. She couldn’t decide which class should fill its place, and every time she found a suitable subject, the times it was offered invariably conflicted with another class.

“Miss Lily is here to see you, Mistress,” Millie the House-elf said, bowing low.

Dorcas dropped the parchment and her quill when her best friend entered the room. She was still in her dressing gown, having not noticed the time.

“I’ll get changed, then we can go shopping.”

“Good idea. A dressing gown would draw even more attention than robes.”

Dorcas disappeared into her closet, searching through the rails of robes for her Muggle clothes. She hadn’t worn them in such a long time. Between classes and Order duties, she was constantly in the wizarding world.

“I would apologize for being late, but it seems you didn’t notice,” Lily called, a hint of laughter in her voice. “We had such a long night. Pete was late arriving for his shift, so James and I waited with Marlene. I didn’t get to bed until at least three.”

“Don’t worry,” Dorcas replied, pulling on a pair of blue jeans. “I only woke up an hour ago. I probably got home around three, too.”

There a long pause during which a mischievous smile stretched across Lily’s lips. “Really? What exactly were you doing between nine and three?”

Dorcas emerged from her closet fully dressed. She stopped short, a pained expression crossing her face as she realized she’d basically told Lily that she had spent six extra hours with Black.

Lily responded by laughing. “Anything interesting happen?”

The brunette scowled deeply. “Nothing I shouldn’t have expected.”

Lily wanted to know more, but Dorcas refused to say. She wouldn’t allow herself to be humiliated by Black like she had been in fourth-year.

“What were you going to tell me last night?” Dorcas asked, changing the subject.

The other woman looked perplexed for a moment. “Oh! Right, well … maybe you should sit down.”

Dorcas lowered her hairbrush and gazed sternly at her best friend. They had only ever had one conversation that started out like that. It had occurred in seventh-year when Lily told Dorcas that she had started dating Potter. Reluctantly, she crossed the room and took a seat on her bed.

Lily was grinning widely, but also looked a bit nervous. She stretched out her left arm and slipped her hand from the sleeve of her sweater. A glittering diamond ring adorned her normally bare fingers. At first glance, Dorcas thought it was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. A moment later, when all the pieces clicked into place, she sighed deeply.

“Oh, Lily. He knocked you up.”

“What? … NO!” Lily exclaimed, slapping her best friend’s arm. “No, he did not.”

“Oh. Well, then why--”

“Because I love him!” Lily sounded exasperated with her friend. “I’ve been telling you this for two years!”

“I know,” Dorcas whined, sounding very much like a young child who was denied dessert before dinner.

“I know you know. James said you came to see him. You would have never gone to him unless you knew how much he cared about me.”

Dorcas’s foul mood slipped away. She should have been mad at Potter, but she was more concerned that Lily was going to yell. She’d seen Lily yell and she never wanted to be on the receiving end.

“You don’t sound angry,” the brunette said slowly.

“Oh, I’m furious! Don’t ever treat me like a damsel in distress again. But Sirius managed to calm me down. He told me how upset you were and that you only told James because you want to make sure nothing happens to me.”

“I’m sorry. It was You-Know-Who, Lily! I didn’t know what else to do. Someone else needed to know, just in case.”

Lily smiled indulgently and wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Forgiven. So, will you be my maid-of-honor or do you hate James so much that you’ll make me ask Petunia?”

Dorcas snorted indignantly. “There is not a chance I’m letting Petunia stand in my place! I’ve earned that right!”

The redhead grinned and laid her head on Dorcas’s shoulder. “I knew you would! Because I would never let anyone else stand in my place at your wedding.”

“You’ve got a while to wait.”

“Really? I was under the impression that you and Sirius were getting along very well these days.”

Dorcas fairly growled at her best friend. “If you ever insinuate that there is something between me and that troll again, I will not hesitate to hex you. I’d eat my wand before I dated that arrogant, insolent prat!”

“Do you want to tell--”

“No, I want to go shopping.”

Their traditional day-after-Christmas shopping started in their second-year, when their mothers had wanted to get to know one another better. Mrs. Meadowes had happily ushered Mrs. Evans around Diagon Alley while Lily showed Dorcas Muggle London. Every year, they spent the whole day shopping at Muggle stores, eating at Muggle restaurants, and topped the day off by exchanging Christmas presents.

Then, it had been a way for Lily to do all the things she loved in the Muggle world and involve her best friend. In the recent years, it had been more of an escape from the escalating war in the wizarding world.

They passed the day as they always did, starting out at Harrod’s and moving on to the antique stores on King’s Road. For lunch, Dorcas insisted on pizza, something she only ate when she was around Lily. After lunch, they took the Underground to Portobello Road and browsed through the pagodas. When they returned to Meadowes Manor that evening, they were so loaded down with bags that Dorcas could scarcely cast the wards on the front gate.

“Lily!” Mr. Meadowes exclaimed. “How have you been?”

“Good. And you?” Lily asked, breathless from lugging around shopping bags all day.

“Here, let me help.”

He waved his wand once and all the bags shot off to Dorcas’s bedroom in a straight line. He inquired about Lily’s studies and was shocked that she wasn’t pursuing a definite career just yet. Dorcas watched her father closely. He looked relieved to see Lily and much happier than Dorcas had seen him for months.

“It’s so good to see you.”

“Remus is coming over later,” Dorcas said.

As she had expected, her father looked even more reassured to hear this. His suspicions about her late night activities must not have been as innocent as she’d hoped. Knowing that she was still friends with Lily and Remus seemed to confirm something for him, and that pained Dorcas. She had hoped her father trusted her enough to let her live her life, but in these dark times, trust seemed hard to come by.

The moon was already up when Remus arrived at Meadowes Manor. From upstairs the women heard Mr. Meadowes greeting him as warmly as he had done with Lily. They had just managed to untangle themselves from the mass of clothes, piles of books, and assortment of Muggle items they had purchased when Remus appeared in the doorway. He laughed at the mess of plastic bags, piles of new Muggle clothes that the young women would only wear a few times, and heaps of shoe boxes.

“Congratulations,” Remus said, smiling at Lily. “James told me.”

“It’s been so long since you’ve been home!” Dorcas exclaimed, embracing him tightly.

“I know, I know. I only just found time to get away because of Christmas. I have to leave tomorrow night. Which reminds me, I’m supposed to pass a message on to you both. There’s an Order meeting tomorrow at eight o’clock. We’re reporting on what we’ve been doing, so make sure you’re there.”

In the two months Dorcas had been in the Order, there hadn’t been any formal meetings, which she had considered very odd. The number of deaths and disappearances had only increased in those months, despite the Order’s and the Ministry’s efforts. She thought Dumbledore would have wanted to share more information.

“So … we get to hear what everybody else is doing finally?”

“Not everybody,” Lily said. “Most people, but Dumbledore wants to keep the identity of the spies as quiet as possible. It’s really just a lot of different people saying the same thing. This family escaped, that one didn’t, we need to guard this person, and stuff like that.”

Dorcas eyed her friends carefully, judging Lily’s nonchalance and Remus’s nodding. It seemed that they knew exactly what to expect, almost like they had been to an Order meeting before. The horrible truth hit her in that moment.

“You’ve been in the Order since before October,” she said quietly, the hurt evident in her voice.

Lily and Remus exchanged worrisome glances, confirming Dorcas’s suspicions.

“Since June,” Lily admitted.

“So, why wasn’t I asked until October?” Dorcas inquired, her voice rising in pitch. “Was it because I’m a duffer Hufflepuff? Dumbledore didn’t think I was brave enough? Or because he just doesn’t trust me?”

“No! He waited because you needed to settle into Healer training. It’s the hardest educational program in the wizarding world, and he didn’t want to interfere with that.”

“So I couldn’t have done anything during the summer? And how do you know that anyway? Because it sounds like that’s your answer, Lily, not Dumbledore’s.”

The redheaded averted her eyes guiltily.

“What? Did he ask your opinion and that’s what you told him?” Her voice was growing steadily louder as her anger rose.

“Don’t take this out on Lily,” Remus said, speaking for the first time. “We were only looking out for you.”

The brunette nodded slowly. “Okay, I can see that. Since I did the same thing to you, Lily, I’m really in no place to hold a grudge. I just have one more question. How long has Black been in the Order?”

For the second time, both of her friends averted their eyes. The momentarily repressed anger returned full force. Black was in the Auror program, the second most difficult training program in the wizarding world, but he had been asked to join before her.

“Sirius won’t take no for an answer,” Remus reasoned. “Dumbledore tried to explain it to him, but he threatened to turn vigilante if Dumbledore didn’t give him something to do.”

“Oh, and I would just sit back and take it calmly?”

“Dorcas,” Lily pleaded. “Please, don’t be angry. You have a very rare and very dangerous gift--”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Lily looked on the verge of tears as she groped for answer. Dorcas felt all of her anger deflate as she stared at her best friend. She felt as though a hundred white-hot knifes had just pierced her heart. Lily didn’t have to respond for Dorcas to know the answer.

“So … what? You advised Dumbledore to watch me for a few months, to make sure I didn’t go join up with the Death Eaters?”

“Dorcas, it wasn’t like that,” Remus said.

“Wasn’t it, Remus? Tell me, have there been Order meetings between when I joined and now?”

The young man turned his gaze towards the carpet, unable to lie to his friend. Dorcas felt angry, hurtful tears welling in her eyes. The truth had finally come out. No one really trusted her, the freak with the dangerous ability. Maybe they never had. Everyone--her father, Dumbledore, her friends--believed that she could turn traitor at any moment, and they had been watching her just as they watched known Death Eaters.

“Get out.”

Lily made a move to reach out for Dorcas, but Remus stopped her.

Dorcas didn’t sleep at all that night. She spent the restless hours sitting at her desk, staring into the black sky, cursing her ability, and pondering her fate. What had began as an idyllic life had transformed into something entirely different. She thought about Dumbledore’s belief that it is choices, not abilities, which define the person. She wondered if it had ever been true. Her ability was the reason she had been labeled as a potential traitor. Perhaps it really was the abilities that defined a person.

Dorcas spent the next day filling out paperwork and trying to keep her mind off of what Lily and Remus had told her the previous night. The meticulous forms for the Healer training program put her into a stupor, which was better than nothing. The term didn’t begin until the middle of January, which gave her three more weeks without a major distraction.

What to do about the Order meeting had been gnawing at her all day. She could go and pretend to not know that no one trusted her. Or she could not go. Or she could drop out of the Order. She knew how childish the last two options were, but they were certainly easier than facing a room full of people and wondering who trusted her and who didn’t. Finally, she decided to follow the advice her mum had always given her. If it’s easy, you’re doing something wrong.

By that evening, what had started out as a dull ache in the back of her head and turned into a throbbing pressure migraine right behind her eyes. Several times she had to extinguish all the candles and lay down with a wet rag on her forehead. Even the Numbing Tonic she took didn’t subdue the pain.

At seven-thirty Dorcas descended the stairs while wrapping a heavy cloak around her shoulders. It had started snowing earlier in the day and there was sure to be a knee-high drift across the lane, so she pulled out her wand as well.

“What’s the Order?” her father’s voice called from the drawing room.

Dorcas paused on the last step. Her brain was frozen, unsure of what to say because she didn’t know how he had found out about the Order. There was the possibility Lily and Remus had told him, but it was doubtful. He might have found out from someone at work, him being in the Magical Law Enforcement Office.

“And why is it so horrible that Lily and Remus joined before you?” he asked, appearing the hallway.

“You were listening to our conversation yesterday?” Dorcas asked incredulously.

Her dad shrugged. “I was passing by and I heard yelling.”

“Seeing as how there are only four rooms upstairs and those are all mine, I don’t see why you would be upstairs. Secondly, my door has had a Silencing Charm on it since third-year, which is why the Ministry sent me the warning for using magic, and the door was shut yesterday. So if you heard our conversation, you cast the countercharm deliberately.”

He took a deep breath. “It is my house.”

Dorcas let out a frustrated growl. “And it’s my privacy!”

“You’ve been using that excuse at lot lately. I want to know where you’ve been.”

“Well, now you know. I’ve been working with Dumbledore for the Order of the Phoenix. We’re what the Ministry calls a vigilante group, so if you want to arrest me, I’ll understand.”

“Drop the attitude, Dorcas! We’re both adults, let’s be civil,” he replied hotly. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Why have you put yourself in harm’s way? I’m a Hit Wizard, I can take care of you, but you have to be honest with me about where you are.”

“Dad, you know that’s not true. A million things could happen to me anywhere, in the wizarding world and the Muggle world. You said that I’m an adult, so let me act like one. I can’t rely on your for everything. I have to protect myself and my secret.”

“You-Know-Who doesn’t know about your ability!”

“But he might find out!” Dorcas countered. The pressure behind her eyes was building the longer this conversation continued. She just wanted to go the meeting. “This is not about you and me, dad. This is about the hundreds of people who could die because You-Know-Who will use me as a weapon. I can’t allow that, dad.”

“If you just tell me where you go, I can keep you safe. I have contacts, Dorcas, and subordinates who will do what I say,” he pleaded.

Dorcas shook her head slowly. “You would guard me rather than the dozens of people those Aurors and Hit Wizards could protect? I can’t allow that either. Dad, if I sit back and do nothing and You-Know-Who finds out about my ability, if he puts me under the Imperius Curse or breaks my mind to find out what I know, the blame lies with me. It’s my responsibility to guard it well.”

Mr. Meadowes looked shocked to hear his own words turned against him. He had said that very same speech to Dorcas when she began learning Occlumency and complained that it was too difficult.

“How is putting yourself in danger guarding your ability? If anything, it’s made you a target!”

Dorcas sighed heavily. “I don’t know, dad! Maybe it’s absolution for the havoc I know I’ll cause one day.”

Dorcas pushed past her father and stepped into the biting wind. She put her head down and melted a path in the snow with her wand tip. Angry tears were stinging her eyes. She hadn’t meant to tell her dad about seeking absolution, and she hadn’t even realized that was why she had joined the Order.

With a sharp turn, Dorcas Apparated just outside the stone archway that led to the Holly Falls housing addition. It wasn’t snowing in London, and the Muggles had shoveled the sidewalk, so Dorcas stowed her wand and hurried through the gate. According to her watch, she had less than five minutes to reach headquarters.

A loud popping sound prompted her to spin around. Instinctively, she pulled out her wand. Peter Pettigrew flattened himself against the stone archway to stay clear of the wand.

“Sorry, Pettigrew. Instinct,” Dorcas said, tucking her wand back into her robes. “We better hurry or we’ll be late.”

Pettigrew looked wary of walking with her to headquarters after she had just threatened him. He always looked so timid, his watery eyes constantly on the move. Dorcas couldn’t fault him for it. He was a poor wizard when it came to dueling and he knew it. She would be apprehensive too if she weren’t good at defense spells. She wasn’t particularly fond of Pettigrew, as he had stood back and let Potter and Black hex innocent students, but she couldn’t pretend that he really had any control over his friends.

“So what are you doing these days?”

“I’m just working for the Order, like James.”

Dorcas resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She reminded herself that people like Pettigrew looked up to people like Potter, as sad as it was.

They reached Number seventeen in record time, and Dorcas pulled the bell. A moment later, Moody’s scarred face appeared through a slit between the door and the jamb.

“Edgar gave me some good fish tonight,” the Auror growled.

Dorcas suppressed her smile as much as she could. “But what if he had caught it from a poisoned lake, Mr. Moody?”

Moody’s face twisted into a smile. “You would have been a good Auror, Meadowes. You catch on quickly.” He turned towards Pettigrew. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Peter Pettigrew.” Moody scowled deeply at the timid-looking young man. “Oh, umm, Pettigrew, what have I called you since second-year?”

The young man shifted uncomfortable. “Owl-killer.”

“It’s him, Mr. Moody.”

The Auror moved aside and let them enter. He grabbed Dorcas’s wrist as she moved past him. “You should’ve asked him that when you first saw him. Remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Bet they don’t teach you that at St. Mungo’s, eh?”

“Of a different sort,” Dorcas replied, rubbing her temples. Moody’s yelling had only made her headache worse.

The meeting was about to being when Dorcas entered the room. An odd assortment of witches and wizards were seated at a long wooden table. She knew some people, like her Hogwarts classmates, Healer Bones, and Marlene McKinnon, the welcome witch at St. Mungo’s. Other people she recognized. The redheaded twins Fabian and Gideon Prewett, whom she had met just recently, were sitting beside Dedalus Diggle, whom she had served a guard duty with, and Elphias Doge, an elderly man who lived in Hampshire Village. She refused to make eye contact with Lily, Remus, or Black, but moved towards Marlene.

As Dumbledore stepped out of the fire, the Order members quieted down. Judging by the assortment of chairs surrounding the table, Dorcas assumed that each person had transfigured their own seat. Waving her wand, she produced a cushioned desk chair.

“I didn’t know you were in the Order,” Marlene whispered. “This is my first meeting.”

“Mine too,” Dorcas replied, somewhat bitterly.

The young women turned their attention towards the Hogwarts Headmaster. Dorcas found it hard to concentrate as Dumbledore began the meeting. She wondered who else in the room knew about her ability and distrusted her for it. The more she thought about it, the worse her headache became. The candle flames danced brightly around the room, causing spots of color to dance in front of her eyes.

“There is now a hospital ward here at headquarters, thanks to Dorcas Meadowes.” She tried to nod in acknowledgement, but the slightest movement sent waves of pain through her head. “If it is more convenient for you, or if you feel your injury is suspicious in any way, please come to headquarters rather than St. Mungo’s. Edgar and Dorcas can be contacted by Patronus, and I believe Marlene has some training in these matters as well.”

The rest of the meeting was rather blurry for Dorcas. Dumbledore gave a report about what the spies had found out. She vaguely heard something about the families of Aurors and Hit Wizards being targets, but she had known that long before her mum and sister had been killed. Caradoc Dearborn gave a long list of people he thought might be interested in joining the Order, Moody arranged guard duty for three more families, and Dedalus Diggle reported that unnatural fog had been hanging around Canterbury for three days.

“It is the dementors,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head sadly. “They have joined Voldemort as we always suspected they would.”

A shudder passed through the room, both from the use of the Dark Lord’s name and the mention of dementors.

The meeting barely lasted half an hour, but Dorcas felt as though it had been days since she’d arrived. Her headache was so bad that the room around her was spinning. She shut her eyes to block the light and when she opened them, was surprised to find that the room had cleared out.

“Dorcas?” She looked up sharply at the sound of Lily’s voice. “You don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie down.”

Dorcas rose from her chair, ignoring Lily. She only wanted to get home and sleep. The headache was probably a side effect of being awake for almost twenty-four hours, which was partly Lily’s fault, Dorcas reminded herself.

“Lily’s right, you should lay down,” Black added.

Dorcas scowled at him, wondering why he had even come back into the room. She blinked slowly several times, trying to clear her vision.

“I don’t want to talk to you. Or you, or you,” she said, turning to Lily and Remus in turn.

She hadn’t remembered seeing Remus a moment before. She shrugged it off as just not paying attention, but a warning bell was sounding in the back of her mind. She was sure everyone had left the room, but they couldn’t have left and came back in without her noticing it. She turned for the door only to find Potter blocking her way.

“Meadowes?” he asked, reaching out for her.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. A millisecond before Potter’s fingers touched her forearm, Dorcas realized what was happening. She tried to move away, to block his touch, but it was too late. His fingers closed around her wrist.

Pain like a stabbing knife shot through her head and the room around her disappeared. Vaguely, she felt her knees buckle, but she was already lost to that world. The edges of this reality were blurred, like a reflection rippling in water.

Potter was standing in the drawing room of his home in Godric’s Hollow … a rushing sound … the brilliant green flash of a Killing Curse …

Unknown to her, Dorcas screamed as Potter’s body hit the floor. Having experienced this once before, Lily rushed forward to catch her friend before she fell.

A high, cold laugh filled the room … Lily stumbled backwards … “Stand aside you silly girl!” … A scar shaped like a lightening bolt …

Dorcas sat up, screaming shrilly. Someone wrapped her in a warm embrace and demanded a cold towel. As the world slipped back into focus, Dorcas realized that she was in the hospital ward at headquarters.

“It’s okay. You’re all right,” Lily said softly, smoothing the damp hair away from Dorcas’s forehead.

“I need a moment with Dorcas, if you please, Lily.”

Dorcas peered over her best friend’s shoulder to see Dumbledore waiting calmly. Behind the Headmaster, Remus was gesturing wildly for Black and Potter to shut up. When they cleared out of the room, Dumbledore conjured a chintz armchair beside Dorcas’s bed.

She looked down at the sheets, not in the mood to have her thoughts dissected as Dumbledore had always done after episodes like these. The headache was mostly gone, but the dull ache would stay with her for a few days.

“Perhaps we did not discuss this thoroughly enough,” Dumbledore began sternly.

Dorcas stiffened immediately. She did not want a lecture from the Headmaster about how she hadn’t practiced Occlumency well enough. It wasn’t her fault she was emotionally connected to the world around her. Unlike him, she couldn’t just disengage and stuff away all of her feelings.

“You are in grave danger. Voldemort believes strongly in the power of the supernatural, and you have that power in droves.”

Dorcas bit her tongue. Loosing her temper while receiving a lecture about controlling her emotions would only prove Dumbledore’s point. As much as she hated to admit it, he was partially correct. It was her responsibility to close her mind, no matter the cost to herself. If she didn’t, she could harm hundreds.

“You know the warning signs. When you are under pressure and have these headaches, you know what is coming, or at least you should. There is always a Pensieve waiting for you in my office.” Dorcas only nodded in reply. “Good night. Get some sleep.”

Dorcas rose from her bed a few moments after he was gone. She wasn’t going to give her father any more reason to distrust her, so she was going home whether Dumbledore liked it or not. She stopped short at the door, not expecting to see Lily, Remus, Potter, and Black waiting for her.

The full force of her premonitions hit her at that moment. She had witnessed Potter die, and from what she could recall, he wasn’t much older than he was now when it happened. Lily had faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No, not past tense. Future tense, she reminded herself. Potter would die soon. Lily would face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

And Dorcas couldn’t warn them. Lily had made her promise in second-year that she would never, under any circumstance, tell Lily her future or anyone else’s close to her.

A heavy feeling settled into Dorcas’s chest. It constricted her breathing and made movement difficult. She suddenly understood why her parents and Dumbledore had been adamant that Dorcas learn Occlumency.

These premonitions were a burden such as she had never had to carry before. It was her secret. And it would be her undoing. She knew this without using the Sight. Her ability would be her destruction and the destruction of all those whom she loved.