A/N: Written for the Rubik's Cube Challenge on the HPFC Forum! Pairing prompt: Dorcas/Gideon.
He met her after the jump.
He watched her tumble downwards, seemingly in slow motion, like a bird with its wings clipped. As she hit the water with a loud splash, he heard a strangled cry, and realized shortly after that he had made the noise. As he levitated her to the hospital wing, his hazy mind vaguely registered that she was beautiful.
He visited her every day. She was in the hospital wing for three and a half weeks, and didn't awaken for two. On the first day, he learned her name. Dorcas Meadowes. He thought it fit her. Madame Weller was strict about visitors, but whenever he turned up, she would only give him a small smile and let him in. He would sit by her bed for hours and talk to her. He knew, of course, that she couldn't hear him, but nonetheless, day after day he would be there, at 6:30 sharp. He would tell her stories of how the day had been, their crazy new DADA teacher, the weather, anything. When he wasn't talking, he was imagining. Imagining what she was like. One day she was an undercover agent for the Ministry, the next she was a famous muggle violinist who had found out about magic and lied her way into Hogwarts fueled on pure curiosity. He spun stories of each of these personas, and he wrote them all down, his dorm soon becoming cluttered with books upon books of paper lives.
His friends became concerned. "Gideon," they would say, "You don't even know the girl," "Gideon, this is becoming an obsession," "Gideon, you already saved her life. You don't owe her anything."
But it was more than that. He didn't know how, exactly, but the unmoving girl in hospital bed number six was quickly becoming the most important thing in his universe.
Then, one day, she woke up.
He was telling her a story he had created, a story about a dog who had run away from home and was adventuring out in the wild. It was utterly childish and stupid and he loved it. He was in the middle of a bit where the dog had been caught in the midst of a particularly vicious snowstorm when a light voice piped up from beside him.
"It's your story, so by all means continue, but for the love of Merlin, don't kill off the dog."
He nearly fell off of the chair in surprise. She smiled at him weakly. "I never could handle the ones where the dog dies."
He mumbled something incomprehensible and fled. As he exited, he heard her ask, quietly, who he was. Madame Weller's voice responded softly.
"That, my girl, was Gideon Prewett. The boy who saved your life."
He didn't return for a week.
When he did come back, he perched awkwardly in the bedside chair, waiting for the right moment to speak. She solved that problem for him.
"So, you're the one that kept me from dying, huh?"
He nodded.
She sighed. "I appreciate the sentiment and all, but I really wish you hadn't."
He didn't respond to that. How could he?
After a beat, he blurted "Why did you do it?" and then "Oh, shit, sorry, um, that was... insensitive... Merlin..."
She gave an amused smile. "I was tired," She said simply.
He tilted his head to the side. "Of what?'
"Living."
And that was that.
When he returned a few days later, she was sitting up in her bed and systematically sorting through the piles of cards that had accumulated. She looked up when he entered.
"I get to leave as soon as I get rid of all these," She said softly.
He blinked. "Oh."
She laughed lightly. "Weller tells me you were much more talkative when I was comatose. What happened?"
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well... it's much easier to talk to someone you don't know when they can't hear you."
"What time is it?" She asked suddenly.
"Uhm, just past 7:30, why?"
She set down the card she was holding. "I'm about finished with these anyway. I'll just..." She swept them into the bag sitting by her bed. "Undetectable Extension charms, man." She said, almost fondly, as she snapped the bag shut and swung it over her shoulder. "C'mon, Gideon."
He didn't ask where they were going.
She ended up leading him to the top of the Astronomy tower. She dropped to the ground and patted the spot in front of her, inviting him to sit. He did.
"Tell me a story," She said. "I was told that you came up with some interesting ones while I was asleep."
He ended up telling her everything. All the stories, all the lives he spun for her.
When he finished, it was nearly two hours later. "You're a very good storyteller," She said. "I bet you would make a great writer some day."
He shrugged. "I've always had my sights set on auror, honestly. What about you?"
"Ah, you see, I'm a special case, because I never made any plans for the future, seeing as I didn't plan on living long enough to have one."
They were quiet after that.
The next time they saw each other, it was far past curfew, and they both were still out. She was walking outside, along the edge of the lake, and she saw him, sprawled out underneath a large oak tree.
"Fancy meeting you here," She said with a smile.
He stood hurriedly. "Hey."
"And what are you doing out this evening?"
"I come here to think sometimes, it's nice. Though the shadows are a bit creepy, no?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Quite on the contrary. I'm not afraid of the dark, I embrace it."
He tilted his head to the side. "You are an enigma, Dorcas Meadowes."
She smiled. "I do try."
They stood in companionable silence for a moment or two, then she swiveled on her heel. "I best be going." She paused for a moment, glancing up at the sky. "It's a shame it's so starless tonight," She murmured.
"Why's that?"
She looked back at him. "Because if it wasn't, it would be the perfect sort of night to start walking and not stop until you find what you're looking for."
He quirked an eyebrow. 'And what would that be?"
She smiled. "I'm sure I'll find out when I get there."
End.