Note: So, I'm hoping that this will be my first full story uploaded to . This story will most likely be a Dorcas Meadowes/Remus Lupin story. Dorcas Meadowes has been mentioned all of one time in the Harry Potter series, but what really intrigued me was the fact that Voldemort had to personally kill her. It leads me to believe that she was an important piece of the war if Voldemort himself did the "honors." I see Dorcas as being in the same year as the Marauders and all that, and I think she's unique. Anyway, enough of my rambling and on to the story!
Disclaimer: Absolutely none of this belongs to me.
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The picture was old and faded, just a mere memory of better days. Alastor Moody's mouth turned down in a crooked grimace as he looked at the old friends and colleagues and comrades, many of them long since dead. He didn't know why, but he liked to carry the picture around with him. Perhaps to serve as a reminder of those who had died fighting so valiantly for a peace that had not yet come. Nearly every face represented some sort of tragedy. The Potters, both dead at the hands of Lord Voldemort, their son left an orphan to fend for himself. The Longbottoms, two promising young Aurors who were not withering away in the likes of St. Mungo's. Caradoc Dearborn, who'd disappeared a scant half year after this very photograph had been taken. Marlene McKinnon, who'd died very soon after the picture had been taken, along with her entire family. One beady eye drifted to the young woman who's arm was slung around Marlene. His magical eye whizzed about in no clear pattern, but his one good eye would never forget that face. Dorcas Meadowes.
Dorcas had been an extraordinary young woman from the start, and Moody remembered, somewhat sadly, that she had been his best Auror at the time of her death, despite her diminutive stature. Her small features smirked up at him confidently from the picture, mocking him. Her death, it had turned out, had been his fault. Indirectly, of course, but that couldn't change the guilt that had gnawed at him for years afterward, that still gnawed at him every time he looked over and saw Remus Lupin tiredly conversing with some of his old friends, smiling, but never really meaning it. Moody sighed. He'd been too eager to catch more Death Eaters. Things had been getting worse by the day and his most pressing concern had been keeping the Potters and their young son safely hidden. As the head Auror at the time, he'd had to make some decisions, but none had come back to haunt him so much as the one to send Dorcas Meadowes on her final mission. But she really had been a talented young witch.
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"But, Mom! I don't—NO!"
From inside the cheery little house in Cornwall, a small girl with black hair struggled as her mother tutted and pulled a ruffled, pink dress over her head. The young girl folded her arms once in the abhorred dress and pouted up at her mother, who shook her head.
"Dorcas, don't be difficult for your poor mum," she said, her English tinged heavily with a Japanese accent.
Dorcas grumbled something incoherent and pulled at the itchy material, but obeying as her mother motioned for her to sit down so that she could style her hair. For as long as she could remember, Dorcas had always hated dresses. They were just much too stuffy, and made it all the more difficult for her to run in. Every time her mother was somehow able to force her into one, she would go outside and play and return hours later, covered in dirt, her knees scraped and the hem of the dress in tatters. She was an adventurous child and no dress was going to hold her back, no matter how much her mother might like the garment. At this point, the older witch pulled a short, ebony wand from the pocket of her apron, pointing it at the long, straight black hair that Dorcas had always worn in a lopsided, messy ponytail. Almost at once, the tresses began weaving amongst themselves, twisting and curling until a pile of ringlets sat atop her head. The woman murmured something else and a pink bow slithered from the wand, holding the curls in place.
"Mum! I look like a poodle!" Dorcas complained, horrified. "Please don't make me go to London like this!"
"But, honey, you look like a little girl now," her mother said, smiling and winding her finger through one of the curls.
Suzume Nakasato smiled down fondly on her daughter. She had hoped her daughter would enjoy dressing up, but one could never help these things. Dorcas had taken after her father for the most part. Though, she couldn't say that she minded this so much. Dorcas was a living relic of the love she and Charles Meadowes had felt for one another. He had been a Muggle in the British Army, stationed in Japan for a short time for some training exercises. The two had met when Suzume had wandered close to his base, looking for magical plants. From then on, it had been love. When Charles had returned to England, he'd brought Suzume with him, but had died shortly after, of Tuberculosis. Her heart had been broken, but not quite 9 months later, little Dorcas had arrived and she, along with Charles's parents had taken care of her. His parents had been more help than she could have hoped for and she was happy that they all still lived together, so that Dorcas would know both sides of her family.
Now, however, the girl in question was pulling at the dress, looking fretful. Suzume couldn't help but chuckle softly as she watched the eleven year old. She had most definitely taken after her father. And, seeing the girl wouldn't relent, she had to concede.
"Fine, Dorcas, go change then," she said good-naturedly, shaking her head, but grinning all the same.
"Thanks, mum!" Dorcas shouted, bounding out of the room and up the stairs, nearly tripping on the way up.
"What's all that racket?" Aldon Meadowes asked as he poked his head out of the kitchen, newspaper in hand. His white moustache twitched as he saw the last of Dorcas running up the stairs.
Once up in her room, Dorcas all but tore off the pink dress, throwing it on her bed. Instead, she hurriedly pulled on some jeans and a faded red t-shirt. She crossed to the closet and dug around a bit before finally finding her pair of old-worn trainers, which she promptly pulled onto her feet. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, the girl cringed at her hair. Pulling the ribbon out, she flipped her head upside down, shaking it out. The curls came out easily in her silky hair and soon enough, it was back into its customary ponytail, leaning to one side, a few pieces falling out here and there. It wasn't perfect, but this always seemed to suit her quite well. She headed back into the hall, and then looked around, being sneaky. The coast was clear. Without a further thought, she hopped onto the banister and slid down. Though, she didn't slow down enough at the end, and so when she hopped off, her momentum took her straight into the front door. Luckily, she was able to catch herself against her hands and despite the loud bang, she was uninjured. Her grandmother came out of the kitchen at that point, eyes wide. When she saw her smiling granddaughter though, she put her hands on her hips, unable to keep a smile from her face.
"Dorcas, was that you, worrying your Grandma like that?" she asked. "No matter, I made breakfast, so come and eat something before your mum brings you to King's Cross."
Dorcas followed her grandmother into the sunny little kitchen, taking a seat at the wooden table that occupied one corner of the room while her grandmother served her some bacon, eggs, and toast. Dorcas smiled and thanked her grandmother before digging in. She hadn't thought she was hungry, what with being so excited for Hogwarts, but she supposed her appetite was bigger than she thought.
"You may want to slow down there, little one," her grandfather suggested, glancing at her over the top of his paper, his spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.
Dorcas, heeding his advice, put her fork down, her cheeks bulging with all the food she had in her mouth. She took a moment to chew it completely and then swallow before taking a large gulp of orange juice. She then finished breakfast, eating more slowly, though wanting nothing more than to inhale the whole plate and then apparate into London with her mother as soon as possible. Cornwall was a fair distance away, and so it was decided that tandem apparition might be the best way of doing it. But, soon enough, it was 10:30 and Dorcas hugged and kissed her grandparents goodbye, promising she'd write them. She then took her trunk in one hand, and her mother's hand in the other, and once Suzume saw that her daughter was ready, apparated them to an isolated alley outside of King's Cross Station. Dorcas shook herself, recovering from the unpleasant sensation of being squelched into nothingness. But, she didn't have time for that. Grabbing her mother's hand again, she dragged the woman across the street to the busting train station. She saw an older boy pass her, also carrying a large trunk, but with an owl perched on top, that was drawing quite a few stares and Dorcas turned to her mum excitedly.
"Look, mum! He's going too!" she said, her face lighting up.
Suzume only smiled as her daughter led them through the crowds of people, following the boy she'd seen. Dorcas then stopped, and watched amazed as he disappeared into the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. Dorcas looked up at her mother in wonder.
"Is that what we do too?" she asked.
Her mother had been born and raised in Japan, so although she'd never attended Hogwarts, she'd read enough about it to know that it was, indeed, the correct entrance. She leaned down to whisper in her daughter's ear.
"Just make sure you don't draw too much attention. Lean back against the wall like you're waiting, but be careful not to fall."
Dorcas nodded and sure enough, when she pretended to lean against the stone wall, she found that it wasn't solid in the least, and she slipped right through along with her mother. What greeted them on the other side was a completely different world. A scarlet steam engine awaited, and all around them, children were saying goodbye to their parents, or greeting their friends that they hadn't seen in a long while. Dorcas took her trunk to the steadily growing pile in front of the cargo car and then turned back to her mother. Reaching up, she hugged her tightly and smiled a bit as her mum kissed the top of her head, telling her to write often and be good, and that she would see her at Christmas. Dorcas hugged her once more and then watched as she headed back through the barrier. She then turned and couldn't keep the smile off her face as she jumped onto the train, making her way through the crowded halls, looking for someone her age to sit with. She poked her head into a compartment that held 4 people that looked her age, a girl with red hair, a pale boy with black hair and mismatched clothes, and two other boys looking at the one with mismatched clothes half curious, half disgusted. Dorcas merely smiled, and moved on, seeing that it was full. The next compartment she came to held just one occupant, a round boy with a mop of blond hair and watery blue eyes. He looked up at her nervously as she entered.
"Hi, can I sit here?" she asked, smiling in what she hoped was a friendly way.
"Oh. Uh, s-sure," he stuttered, looking down at his hands.
Dorcas entered and slid the door shut beside her, taking the seat opposite the boy.
"I'm Dorcas Meadowes," she announced with a grin. "What's your name?"
"P-Peter Pettigrew," he said, looking up at her.
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Note: So, that's it for this chapter, and I really don't plan on spending much time on their younger years, but I figured it'd be a nice foundation of sorts. Hopefully you'll enjoy this though, and be sure to review to let me know that you're reading!