"That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally..."

Dorcas Meadowes wasn't easily scared, it's what made her so damn good at her job. She was fearless, always the first in line to put herself into deadly danger. She had been threatened and tortured and been put through things that no nineteen year old should ever have been put through. Her parents died when she was twelve, her grandparents and brother were killed a week before her nineteenth birthday. She'd lost almost everyone close to her which is why she was so reckless; there was no one to stop her from putting herself into danger, there was nobody to come home to.

It was two days before her twentieth birthday when she was taken, she'd been at a party with some old school friends. A few of her Slytherin class mates who she hadn't had a chance to catch up with for a while, it just so happened that she and a few of the others at the party were some well known blood traitors. She knew she shouldn't have been drinking, it was a bad idea when she was perhaps one of the most wanted blood traitors, wanted by the Dark Lord; dead or alive. She drank anyway, she wanted to let go and have fun and she wanted to pretend that she wasn't living in a war zone.

Then they came, in their dark cloaks and masks, throwing curses at everyone in the room. She tried to sneak away, she knew she couldn't let herself be caught, but she'd had a few too many drinks and wasn't as fast as she wanted to be. One of them recognised her, she had been quite popular in her days at Hogwarts so it would've been very wishful thinking to hope that none of them would recognise her. In the blink of an eye she was apparated away before she could throw a curse or hex at whoever it was that had gotten her.

She woke up later in a cold, dark room; tied to a chair with masked figures surrounding her. She was scared then, but she put on a brave face, she had been tested for things like this, she thought she knew what was coming.

Then it came.

Or rather he came.

He walked into the room, and Dorcas Meadowes was looking straight into the eyes of Lord Voldemort; and she thought she was going to be sick. She had never been so scared in her entire life, the murderous look in his eye was enough to send chills up her spine. She knew what was going to happen to her, and as much as she wished she could accept it, as much as she hoped that she could go quietly and peacfully but she had rejected the Dark Lord and she had to be punished for it.

She had no family to miss her, and her friends had lost so many people over the past few years that she doubted her death would make a difference to anyone.

She looked around the dark room, looking at the masked figures, people she had no doubt gone to school with, people who had been her friends, but would now stand by and let her die because that's what the world was like now.

He said something to her, but it fell onto deaf ears, she was too caught up in her thoughts to listen or to care about what he said. Perhaps he was giving her a second chance, but she wouldn't know, she would never know. All she would know for the next day was pain.

Dorcas tried to be strong. To be strong for her parents, for her grandparents. She thought of her brother and prayed that his death had been far swifter. She thought of all the friends she had lost, she thought of Fabian and Gideon, she thought of the McKinnons. She couldn't be strong, she was a lot of things but she wasn't strong.

The day before Dorcas Meadowes would have been twenty years old, she was murdered. In her final moments Dorcas screamed for mercy, and it was given to her in the form of a flashing green light.

Fin.

A/N:

haven't written or uploaded anything in such a long time, but I thought I would now because I just wrote this and I'm kinda proud.

Obviously my interpretation of Dorcas has changed since I wrote Birthday Girl.

It was inspired by this prompt on Quoll Writer:

I was now for the first time frightened, and I yelled with all my might and main.
- Carmilla by J. Sheridan LeFanu