October Twilight
Chapter Three
The Id, the Ego, and Sirius Black
Over the next few weeks, Dorcas's life settled into a somewhat predictable routine that she felt comfortable with. Healer training became more difficult as the semester progressed, but she had expected that. She adapted to the increased workload as any serious student did: by reading textbooks while eating lunch and buying a top-notch dictation quill so that she could do her homework while in the shower and walking through the corridors of St. Mungo's.
The Order of the Phoenix hadn't had an official meeting, but assignments had been passed onto to Dorcas through Healer Bones and Lily. Dorcas's responsibilities had increased greatly during the six weeks she had been a member of the Order.
The hospital ward was almost complete. The cabinets were stocked with potions ingredients, and she and Lily had spent an entire week brewing everything from Sleeping Draughts to Numbing Tonics. Lily had left the more advanced medical potions for Dorcas, but she appreciated the company nonetheless. The chest of drawers between each bed were filled with supplies, privacy screens put into place, and the ward charmed to be sound-proof. The small room next to the ward had become something of an office for Dorcas, who spent a week arranging the reference books and setting up a filing system.
One night while she was writing an essay about the dangers of using transfigured medical items, a brilliantly white stag-Patronus appeared in her study. The Patronus belonged to Potter, and although Dorcas had received many similar messengers, she had never received one from Potter, nor had she ever expected to. She was friends with Lily and Remus and was getting along with Black better, but she and Potter were still ignoring one another as they had done all through their school years.
He asked her to come to Holly Falls, but didn't say why in the message. As she found out upon arriving at headquarters, the request was a result of an injury Lily had received doing secret business for the Order.
"Merlin!" Dorcas exclaimed, as she entered the hospital ward.
She stopped dead in her tracks, staring horrified at Lily. She was pale and unconscious, and the fabric of her robes around her left shoulder had been ripped and badly burnt. Dark blood seeped freely from the wound, despite Potter's best attempts to staunch the flow. He leapt up from his place when he saw Dorcas, and Black turned sharply, startled by her sudden entry. Black didn't look much better than Lily. His face was pale and dirty, and he had a long, deep gash on the side of his face.
"What do you need?" Potter asked. He spoke rapidly and his voice was high-pitched.
Dorcas physically shook herself out of her trance. She had almost completed her first semester of practical courses, but she had never been trained to see her best friend bleeding to death.
"I … uh … I need …." Dorcas swallowed thickly, her eyes traveling back to Lily.
James was waiting anxiously. Moisture glistened in his hazel eyes as he followed Dorcas's line of sight. She was struck by how powerless he looked, and she knew she had made the right decision in never telling Lily about how he and Black had harassed Snape throughout seventh year.
"I need," Dorcas began again, "Blood-Replenishing Potion, the Sinduela Potion labeled 'two dash three,' warm water, towels, and bandages."
She hurried over to Lily's bed, pulling out her wand. Black had produced the towels and bandages from the chest of drawers and was filling the porcelain basin on the chest with water from his wand. Dorcas waved her wand deftly, performing the charm she had practiced many times.
"Claudio Corpus!"
The wound sealed for a moment, but split open again before any of the blood could be cleaned away. Potter stood behind Dorcas, watching her perform the charm again. He thrust the potion bottles in her direction, wordlessly motioning to the reopened wound. Dorcas paused, not knowing what to do. After trying the charm twice more, she did the only thing she could think of.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Her silver gazelle shot from the room. Hopefully, Healer Bones would be able to come quickly. She handed Black and Potter wet towels and told them to put pressure on the wound while she used a Severing Charm to cut away the fabric around the wound. Lily's skin was tinged purple, as if a spell had embedded itself into her skin.
"What spell did this?" she asked.
Black shook his head. "I was too busy ducking the Killing Curses. Prongs?"
Potter also shook his head. "I got there after she was already unconscious. I grabbed her and Disapparated."
Dorcas looked up sharply at Black. "What were you and Lily doing together?"
He bristled at the implication, but answered through clenched teeth. "Standing guard in Hogsmeade, if you must know."
A cold chill passed down Dorcas's spine. If Dumbledore had Order members in Hogsmeade, then Hogwarts wasn't the safe haven she had always thought it was. Darius could be in danger, her father was a Hit Wizard hunting Death Eaters every day, and Dorcas had joined the Order. It was possible that no one in her family would survive the war.
When Healer Bones arrived, he ordered Black and Potter out of the room. The latter protested, but Black pulled him out of the hospital ward.
"We'll only be in their way," he said soothingly. "It'll be faster if we wait outside."
Healer Bones sealed the wound in no time while Dorcas measured out the potions and prepared the bandages. The old man looked troubled by the injury, especially when Dorcas asked him what had inflicted it.
"The Curse of Marked Death. It's a unique curse, one that is designed to cause death only after severe physical pain. No one has yet figured out the incantation, not even Dumbledore, because he will not experiment with Dark magic, but he did find a cure."
"Sir, if no one has figured out the incantation, then how did someone cast it on Lily?"
"You misunderstand, Miss Meadowes. No one but the inventor of the curse knows the incantation. It's his trademark, a way for the whole world to know who marked the victim for punishment. He only uses it when he would prefer the person to remain alive, because he has a purpose for him or her."
"So … who hurt Lily?"
Healer Bones looked away from Dorcas to study Lily's pale face. "Voldemort."
Even weeks later, Dorcas couldn't deny that the incident was still troubling her. Without so much as a completed semester of training, she was now on Healing duty for the Order. It seemed that the Aurors-in-training were being similarly used. Every time she saw Alice Hall, Frank Longbottom, or Black, they had bandages in new places.
She began spending more time at headquarters than at her own home. Her father had grown increasingly suspicious of her late-night disappearances. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw him gazing intently at her left forearm on several occasions. She wanted so badly to assure him that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn't know about her ability and that she hadn't joined the Death Eaters of her own volition or under the Imperius Curse, but joining the Order of the Phoenix wouldn't be much better in his eyes. All he would register was that his daughter was putting herself in harm's way.
It was true that Dumbledore was relying more heavily upon the younger members than anyone had anticipated, possibly even himself. Despite his decision not to become an Auror, Potter was second in dueling only to the experienced Aurors like Moody and Healer Bones. Being inside the Ministry every day, and yet going unnoticed for the most part, the trainee Aurors were in an excellent position to gather information.
Dorcas also had been asked to gather what intelligence she could. Healer Bones had instructed her to approach the foreign students and gage their reactions to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, particularly the Durmstrang graduates. She was attending more study sessions than ever, just to listen in on gossip.
As Christmas approached and final exams drew closer, Dorcas felt more fatigued than she had in seven years at Hogwarts. Between cramming for the hardest finals she had ever taken, working for the Order, and visiting Lily to check on her healing progress, Dorcas didn't have a moment of free time. She was working on three hours of sleep a night and was relying heavily on her dictation quill to write out her homework while she was in the shower and even during meals.
Dorcas tossed down her quill and slammed Understanding Lycanthropy shut. Her eyes itched with tiredness, and this book was reminding her of how little she had seen of Remus since graduation. When she thought about Remus, she thought about Lily, and all the fun times the three prefects had spent together at Hogwarts while their other friends were practicing Quidditch or sitting in detention.
She was frustrated and worrying constantly about Lily. She had been contemplating what to do for two weeks, but she wasn't overly thrilled with her conclusions. Finally, unable to sit at her desk doing nothing any longer, Dorcas slipped out of the house and walked to the gate surrounding Meadowes Manor.
She Apparated into the last place she ever thought she would see again. Godric's Hollow hadn't changed much since Dorcas attended Potter's tenth birthday party. The old homes reflected an earlier period in history than Meadowes Manor did. Yellow electric light leaked out of small, box-shaped windows and shiny automobiles sat in most driveways.
In contrast, the Potter's home looked like a palace among cottages. She guessed that the family had made magical renovations during the Victorian era because of the sweeping ceilings and elaborately fluted woodwork. Steeling herself, Dorcas walked up the street, keeping the house in her vision.
The door opened after Dorcas pulled the bell for the second time, just when she was about to Apparate home. She was surprised, but felt that she shouldn't have been, to see that Black had answered the door. The gash on the side of his face had healed and he wasn't sporting any fresh bandages.
"Meadowes," he said, equally surprised to see her standing on Potter's front steps. "Lily is at her parents' place."
"I know. I am her Healer," Dorcas answered, natural sarcasm kicking in. "I'm here to see Potter."
Black stepped out of the way, eyeing her suspiciously as she entered the atrium. Dorcas suddenly remembered that she was not the only person to have lost family members in the past year. Potter's parents had died of the Dedolar Virus last winter. They had been old even by wizarding standards and the illness had taken its toll on them. She felt a rush of sympathy for Potter, knowing how painful it was to lose family, and guilt for never having offered her condolences.
She knew the layout of the house well enough to find the drawing room. Potter was prodding his last remaining pawn with the end of his wand while the chessman pleaded against sending him to face Black's rook.
"Looks like you're losing pretty badly, Potter," Dorcas said, announcing herself.
Potter looked up in surprise. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme. It wasn't everyday that Dorcas Meadowes spoke to James Potter, let alone came to his house without being forced. Even in their childhood, it had been her mother who demanded that Dorcas attend Potter's birthday parties every year. He abandoned the struggling pawn and laid down his wand.
"I'm here because of Lily," the woman said, wasting no time in getting to the point.
She didn't want to endure small talk with Potter and Black. Potter motioned for her to sit. Dorcas had to admit, though she didn't want to, that he looked greatly troubled. So, Potter really did love Lily. That was disturbing, because she'd never known him to love anyone but himself. It was like the world was turning upside down.
"What did Healer Bones or Dumbledore tell you about Lily's wound?"
Potter shook his head. "Not much. Bones said it was rare, but he'd seen it before. Dumbledore said Bones taught you how to tend it, so if anything went wrong, I should ask you to come again."
Dorcas sighed audibly. That was so like Dumbledore and Bones. They were always teaching their students, even outside the classroom. She should have guessed that since she was the first person to look at the wound, she was technically Lily's Healer, and it was her responsibility to keep the information confidential. She was already breaking the Healer's Oath before she even took it.
"If anyone finds out that I told you what I'm about to say, I'll be kicked out of the Healer program and barred from medicine for the rest of my life, so keep your mouths shut," she said, looking between Potter and Black. "The curse that caused the wound is called the Curse of Marked Death. It's meant to inflict pain and suffering over a prolonged period of time, but that's not the worst part. It's only used when the wizard who casts it has a use for the victim, when he doesn't want them dead and thinks that the Cruciatus Curse will not be enough to break their will."
Potter had placed his head in his hands, and Black looked unnaturally somber. Dorcas took a deep breath. The rest of her career would be spent delivering unpleasant news to patients and their family members, especially in the Creature Induced Injuries ward where many of her patients would never fully recover.
"It gets worse," she plowed on. "There is only one wizard who knows the incantation, so it is an absolute certainty that he used it on Lily."
"Who?" Potter demanded.
Dorcas swallowed thickly. "You-Know-Who," she whispered.
Potter stared at her blankly for a moment. "I do?"
"She means Voldemort," Black clarified.
Normally, he would have laughed at the confusion, but there was nothing funny about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seriously injuring Lily.
"Voldemort was in Hogsmeade? With the Death Eaters?" Potter asked incredulously.
"He's been gaining strength. Maybe he's not as afraid of Dumbledore as he used to be," Black suggested.
"Or maybe he just really wants Lily."
The young men looked at Dorcas silently, fear and confusion evident on their faces.
"But she's Muggle-born," Potter protested.
Dorcas nodded. "That's what's been troubling me since I found out You-Know-Who hurt her. If he's willing to overlook that, then he has a purpose for her. That's an even more dangerous situation than working for the Order. That's why I'm telling you this, because I know you'll protect her. Lily would kill me if she knew I was here talking about her like she's a damsel in distress, but she's been marked. You-Know-Who won't stop until she's on his side, and we all know that Lily would die before joining him."
Silence settled between James and Dorcas as they gazed at one another. Both had lost parents in the last year and both cared deeply for Lily. It felt odd, suddenly relating to Potter and Black. Dorcas wasn't sure she liked it.
She left quickly after that, having nothing else in common with Potter. The little annoying voice in her head reminded her that she had had amicable conversations with the two Marauders she despised the most. It was almost too much for her to handle. She would have to make a point of avoiding Pettigrew, not that she saw him often anyway.
The pale moonlight reflected off the piles of snow lining the streets and the soft flakes drifting from the sky. Godric's Hollow looked like a tranquil Christmas card with the houses blanketed in snow and Christmas lights shining red and green in the windows of Muggle homes. It was difficult to imagine a town looking so peaceful during a war.
"Meadowes!"
She waited while Black jogged through the front yard. Once again, she was struck by the difference between the man standing in front of her and the boy at Hogwarts. He looked tired, like most of the Order members did, and worried. She had never known him to look and act so … common. But then, they were in the middle of a war, not just the rivalry for the House Cup.
Dorcas shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Black to say what he'd run out of the house to say. His eyes focused on the line of broken stone between the shoveled sidewalk and frozen earth as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.
"James will take care of Lily, so don't worry. He'd die before he let anything happen to her."
Dorcas cocked her head to one side, scrutinizing Black's face. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he looked awkward. That would have been a first.
"Why are you telling me this?"
He looked up suddenly, caught off guard by the question. "Because I know that Lily is your best friend," he said, as if the answer was obvious. "If it was James …"
For the second time in two weeks, Dorcas was astounded by a conversation she'd had with Black. He was showing empathy. Of all people, Sirius Black was displaying empathy. It must truly be the end of the world, Dorcas mused.
"Thanks," she replied, holding back her sarcasm. She kind of liked this side of Black and didn't want to ruin the moment by snapping at him. "She is, and I've already lost a lot people in this war."
Black nodded slowly. "We all have, in one way or another."
She wondered what he meant by that, because none of the Blacks had been killed. They were "respectable" purebloods who didn't associate with Muggles or Muggle-borns, the kind of wizards that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wanted on his side.
"It just seems like we're all going to die for something or someone before this over," Dorcas said.
The words had escaped her lips before she could stop them. It was a habit that she'd picked up from her gossiping mother and aunts. Professor Sprout had forever been scolding her about controlling her thoughts. Occlumency had helped a lot, but sometimes, the urge to spill her emotions overpowered her better judgment.
"We're not all going to die," Black said, looking taken aback. "Dumbledore will stop Voldemort, and we'll get on with our lives."
"They found Benjy Fenwick. Or I should say, they found parts of him."
"You mean …?" Black's face contorted in disgust as Dorcas nodded. "How do you know?"
"I heard the coroner telling Healer Bones before class the other day. Gideon Prewett found half a leg and three fingers."
Black looked like he was going to be sick. Dorcas had experienced that feeling many times during the beginning of the semester. The urge was beginning to wane with the more grotesque diseases she studied and learned to treat.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, her nurturing instincts kicking in.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Black said, trying to shrug it off. He laughed hollowly. "I guess you know why I passed on Healing."
"Really? I thought it would have had something to do with your personality. You being the manifestation of Gryffindor House and all."
She realized too late that she had complimented him. Naturally, he grinned roguishly at her, his ego fully inflated. Dorcas cursed her comforting nature. If he were on his death bed, he might have deserved that comment, but in any other circumstance, his ego was already too big.
"Anyway," Dorcas said, before Black could make some suggestive comment about how he always knew she was harboring secret lustful fantasies about him. "I should be getting home. I'll see you around."
Black's face fell. Dorcas grinned cheekily, happy that everything was back to normal. She turned sharply and Apparated to her house. She cast the wards on the gate and front door before heading up to bed.
As usual, her father was hovering in the drawing room when she walked through the front door. He didn't say a word, but handed her an envelope addressed to her in Darius's handwriting. It had been a long time since her brother had written to her, which she took as a sign that he was recovering and getting on with his life.
Upstairs, she plopped onto her bed and read the letter over twice. He sounded as happy as she had always felt at Hogwarts. She was glad that at least the students at Hogwarts were somewhat shielded from the war. The walls of Hogwarts Castle were a solace she had never fully appreciated until she was too old to go back.