Complete Summary: During the first war, an order member is called to live a double life & she realizes just how much she has to sacrifice to be able to fight the good fight. On one hand, she has to denounce everything she believes in. On the other, she tries to cope with the hostility & mistrust of her contact, Sirius Black, her only connection to the light.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the books and characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic and Warner Brothers. No money is being made from this. No infringement on copyright is intended.
The Lonely Choices of a Strange Season
Moody to Harry in OotP:
"... That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally..."
Chapter Twenty-three
Dorcas caught herself rubbing her forearm once again, an unconscious act on her part and one that Moody commented on viciously when she passed by Auror Headquarters that afternoon to coordinate the Riley Attack. The Dark Mark had been tingling the entire day, slowly building up to a constant sting for the last hour. Soon, she knew, the stinging would change into a bone deep pain as the time drew near.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing to control the pain, but the moment her eyelids shut and the darkness enveloped her, the sensation of being embraced haunted her. The recollection of the warmth the embrace evoked was comforting, but the thought of the how his breath stirred her hair and how low the timbre of his voice was started a slow heat deep inside.
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, cutting the vision in her head.
She wasn't naive, and she knew from experience that refusing to acknowledge things could make them weaker.
It was nothing. Nothing.
She shouldn't be distracted.
8888
The Whispering Lodge was an old Scottish castle that appeared like a big pile of rubble to muggle history buffs- complete with a hefty stone plaque designating the date it had burned down. The Rileys, despite their wealth, bought it for a song because the previous owners were a very old Wizarding family with too little brains due to too much inbreeding.
Getting rich by having a muggle business didn't stop Voldemort from ordering the Death Eaters to milk the family for funds, a decision that wasn't popular with the entire group. But galleons were still galleons it seemed, regardless of how they were made.
Crouched behind a tall oak, Dorcas waited for the signal from across the field where a scouting party had gone ahead. Another Death Eater, not Regulus, was beside her; someone she did not know. His only distinguishing characteristic was his smell, which was rank and assaulted her nose despite the small nose slits of their mask.
However, it was his silence that disturbed her more. It was almost inhuman. He had not spoken, not even during the briefing and she found herself missing Regulus' nervous breathing.
A brief flash of green went off at the opposite end of the vast expanse of field. Her companion gave her a nod before running through the shadows to reach the side of the house. She kept her wand out and covered her partner's progress. Once he was well away from her, she checked a pocket watch. In thirty minutes, the Aurors would be barging in.
By the time she reached the sidewall, her companion was already tapping the bricks in a pattern that only he knew. The bricks started to glow and shifted to reveal a gap wide enough for them to pass through.
Wordlessly, he motioned her inside.
The gap opened into the kitchen. From there, they made their way onto the second floor, throwing doors open in their search for the study, which they found on their fourth try.
Shelves lined the walls of the study and in the middle of the room was a mahogany desk filled with parchment and quills in disarray. She spied the very old and very muggle grandfather clock by the door.
Twelve minutes before the Aurors come.
Her companion headed for the desk and methodically piled the paper. She pulled out drawers and perused the contents, adding all of the parchment that she could find onto the pile on the table.
"That's the last." Dorcas closed the bottom drawer.
"Check the books."
Dorcas started pulling books from the shelves, leafing through the pages and tossing them on the floor when she was done.
She glanced at the clock- seven minutes.
The other Death Eater finished his perusal of the contents of the desk, shrunk the stack of parchment he collected and pocketed them. "Get all the parchment."
Dorcas did the same and pocketed the other half.
"Good," her companion said in his harsh voice. "The Dark Lord wants-"
"AURORS!"
The shout reverberated from the first floor of the mansion. Already, they could hear shouts and the ricochet of spells being cast.
Without speaking, they left the study and made for the stairs but the thunder of footsteps stopped them in their tracks. They changed direction and headed for the farthest of the rooms.
"Stupid Apparition barrier." Dorcas muttered as she locked the door behind her. A quick glance revealed that they were in one of the children's rooms. Richly furnished, a four poster bed looking ridiculous with a Hollyhead Harpies bedspread, had a place of honor on a dais. Very expensive brooms hung on the wall and a snitch buzzed and zipped by. Glass covered and framed Quidditch posters adorned the walls and the photographic selves of players stopped zooming long enough to shake their fists emphatically at them.
Her companion was attempting to charm the lock of the window open.
"Help me get this open, unless you prefer getting caught." Her companion's harsh voice almost overpowered his words as the sounds outside the room got louder.
Outside the door, they could hear the footsteps getting louder, the spells more furious.
Dorcas pointed her wand on the lock. "A blasting spell on the count of three. One. Two. Three."
The lock disintegrated and the window flew open.
"Accio broom." They shouted in unison as the door swung open with a bang.
"Expelliarmus!"
Dorcas ducked the spell on instinct but it was directed towards her companion. "Reducto!" Her companion shouted, already on his broom.
She was already out of the window and halfway across the property when she felt the spell rush over her head, missing her by inches. There was a flash of green in her peripheral vision and she turned around in time to see a body fall. There was no frightened scream as the body gained speed in its descent. Robes spread out gracefully around the body like a bird unfolding its wings, but there was no flight, only the sickening crunch and the dull thud of impact.
The robe the wizard was wearing wasn't black. It was royal blue, deep and dramatic against the green grass turning black with the seeping blood.
This is a brilliant idea.
Sirius repeated the line to himself for the hundredth time that evening, but as- well he forgot her name- pressed her well-endowed chest closer to his side on the business of topping off his glass, he was finally starting to believe himself.
Why didn't she tell him? Why didn't Regulus tell him?
And why the bloody hell did he feel the need to embrace her last night?
Sirius knocked back his drink and half of the refill, and suddenly found himself not caring about the unanswerable questions. It was effective, as long as he kept a drink handy every twenty minutes or so.
After meeting with Dumbledore this morning, he went to Auror HQ to talk to Moody about the Riley mission; it ended up being one part nightmare and one part reminder of his Auror training days.
Intimidation is an integral part of interrogation. So are deception and Veritaserum. Everything short of physical harm and psychological questioning that may cause undue duress is allowed, or so said The Art and Magic of Truth Telling- An Auror's Guide.
Moody must have taken the required text to heart because he stuck Sirius in a darkened interrogation room and drilled him with enough questions, that once it was done, Sirius had an irrepressible urge to hit the bottles.
Then an idea hit Sirius and later grown out of proportion that here he was, with twenty or so bags of crisps and much more bottles of alcohol- both muggle and wizarding because Merlin forbid he'd be elitist and thus uncool- holding an impromptu party in his flat.
Sirius surveyed his living room. Most of the people were from Hogwarts but there were a few whom he didn't recognize at all, invited by someone or the other by word of mouth.
Peter, Sirius saw, had taken to standing by the wireless and was playing DJ, making sure that in between the hits of the Warbling Wonders and the Weird Sisters, there was muggle music playing. A girl had taken residence next to Peter, discussing the merits of the music and while Peter looked out of his depth, he seemed to be enjoying just staring at the cute blonde.
Satisfied that Peter was enjoying himself, Sirius looked for Remus but didn't see him anywhere. Probably hiding in his bedroom.
All the party lacked was James, who decided to sit this one out and instead waited for Lily to come home from work. Sirius thought about Flooing James, but the redhead that was pressing herself against him had brushed against him seductively in the middle of what she was saying, confirming in his mind that James was better off sitting this out and waiting for Lily.
"...so I told my friend that I looked better with red hair," the buxom girl finished with a flourish. "Don't you agree."
Sirius bit back the impolite comment about her body, paper bags and her face and gave her a charming grin instead, hoping it would serve as a good enough excuse. "I'm going to call my friend James."
"Darling James! I was wondering where he was." As the redhead fluffed her newly colored hair, light suddenly dawned on Sirius.
"What's he doing now?" She asked.
"Bumming around." Sirius commented nonchalantly.
"I always thought he'd go pro. He was amazing! I bet he has a really good physique to be able to fly that well," she gushed. Then laying a hand on his arm, "not that I don't think you have a hot bod as well."
"I'm sure." Sirius resisted a laugh. "Actually, James's a scrawny bloke. If you'll excuse me."
Foregoing the fireplace in his living room for the one he magically installed in his kitchen, he made his way there, where he found a Gryffindor three years below him and two Ravenclaws in his year sharing a joint and going through the alcoholic drinks that haven't been brought out. He shooed them towards the living room, plying the bottles into their arms as bribes and after sharing a few lewd jokes, shut the door behind them.
The fireplace sat at the end of the room, near the head of a roughly hewn wooden table. He didn't notice it until Remus pointed out the similarity between his kitchen and the one in Grimmauld Place, albeit in miniature. He started a fire magically, threw in some Floo Powder and called for James and Lily's flat in the wizarding part of London.
James' face appeared amongst the logs, pushing up his glasses. "Sirius."
"You said you'll follow."
James snorted. "Whining doesn't become you."
"With my mug, I can whine all I want. Well come on, get your arse out here."
"I'll pass Padfoot. I haven't seen Lily in a while, with her crazy schedule and with the jobs Dumbledore asks."
"How can you not see her? You live with her."
"Moody's assigned her to night watch. She's asleep even before I leave in the morning and gone by the time I get home at night. You did Auror training. You know what it's like. Anyway, this is the first night that she gets to spend at home. You know..." James paused.
Sirius raised an eyebrow.
"Never mind," James said. Then: "Mate, I think your pocket's whispering."
The communicating speculum was out of Sirius' pocket with the speed of a snitch and reflected in it was Dorcas looking furtively over her shoulders rather than at him. The slight tightening of Sirius' grip around the mirror didn't go unnoticed to James.
Sirius turned to James. "Will you wait a bit?"
"Yeah."
Instead of leaving the kitchen, Sirius locked the door that led to the living room and took a seat by the table.
"Sirius? Is it safe to talk?"
Shadows covered most of Dorcas' face. He could barely make out her eyes, but her voice sounded strained and breathless.
Sirius double checked the locks but there was nothing he could do about the volume of the music.
"Go on."
"An Auror's down-"
"Lily?" Sirius interrupted
"No."
He breathed easier then motioned for her to continue.
"Male, I think. I'm not sure who. AKed by my partner in the mission. I don't know who my partner is."
He heard the guilt in her voice over the death and part of him wanted to reach out and comfort her, the way he had that time in the safehouse or the night before in the shop. Yet a barely formed thought, merely images of her and Regulus, and this unknown feeling beginning in his chest stopped the words he wanted to say.
What came out instead was curt and direct to the point.
"That's all you want me report to Dumbledore?"
"You can but there's no need. The Aurors will report to Moody and he'll talk to Dumbledore. Tell the Headmaster that they separated us into three teams of two. My team and another one went after documents while the third team was supposed to kill the Rileys." She had calmed down but there was a strange tone to her voice, a sort of question that echoed in her report.
"What were you after?" He asked, all business.
"They never told us. Just asked us to collect all the parchment that we could find. I still have some of the documents. I need to give you copies to hand to Dumbledore. Maybe it would give us an idea of what Voldemort is after. Do you want to meet up in your shop in Knockturn Alley?" She sounded hopeful.
"No." Sirius said flatly. "Starting now, Dumbledore wants your contact with all Order members minimized, including me."
"It might be all right if we exchange in the middle of the night."
They had done it before and doing it again appealed to the adventurous side of him. But agreeing would mean that he would spend time with her alone, time that he shouldn't be spending with his brother's fiancée.
Unless their meeting wasn't inappropriate, that she thought of it as part of her job as a spy. She probably thought of him as a friend, a mate. Or maybe much less- a contact, someone to work with. And if that was so, then they wouldn't be betraying Regulus trust if they met up.
Still, Dumbledore said to restrict contact.
"It's an idiotic plan! We shouldn't even have done it the last time. Too bloody risky. Just come in during shop hours and leave it in some puffskein like the last time."
"I can't always leave your place without buying anything." Her voice had dropped and on her face was an expression he had never seen before. "Not exactly the type of store to go window shopping in. Once was okay. Twice is suspicious."
"Then buy something." He said shortly. "We'll exchange at the counter when you're making payment." Then he cut off communication abruptly and ran a hand over his face. It just occurred to him what her last expression was. Confusion. And disappointment.
He desperately needed a few drinks. Maybe a cigarette.
Sirius jumped in surprise when a hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw James had Flooed in and had the gist of the conversation with Dorcas.
"I'll get you something strong and Russian, yeah?" At Sirius' sigh, James added, "maybe two of those."
Sirius heard the soft click of the door as James went into his living room to get some drinks for them. He pulled kitchen drawers out randomly, searching for the pack of cigarettes he could have sworn he stowed in there somewhere.
A few moments later, a glass plopped in front of him and James waited quietly, sipping his own drink, while Sirius rooted around the drawers.
"Ha." Sirius waved the pack in success and proceeded to light one with a relish.
"I couldn't find Remus in there," James began, after Sirius finished a stick and calmed down a bit.
"Probably upstairs, hiding. I think he was surprised by the Mark and Archie show in the corner."
James raised an eyebrow. "Well a girl asked for him."
"Brunette, short hair, legs that go on for miles?" Sirius continued after James' nod. "She was winking at Remus earlier and I reckoned it doesn't matter how smart the chap is, he couldn't get a bloody hint even if it was handed directly to him properly labeled in green ink in big letters- B-L-O-O-D-Y H-I-N-T."
"He gets it," James said, amused. "He just doesn't want it."
"Oh he wants it. If he says otherwise, it's just Prefect Remus speaking."
"Well, a few girls out there were asking about you." James broached the subject. "Not having fun?"
"On the contrary. I thought this is one of my finer ideas to date." Sirius had a meaningful look on his face. "And mind, if you remember Hogwarts, I've had some fine ideas."
"So that argument with Dorcas-"
"-We weren't arguing." Sirius interrupted and started pacing. "We were discussing the logistics of meeting up. It's all Order business." Seeing James' doubtful expression, Sirius continued earnestly. "I'll admit that in the past I tended to overreact around her, because I thought she'd double-cross us. But now were friends. Mates. That's all."
"Nobody said you were anything but," James pointed out. "Besides, is there anything wrong with being friends with her?"
"No. Nothing at all."
"So how come you're avoiding meeting up with her?"
"I'm not. Dumbledore's orders," said Sirius firmly.
James raised his eyebrows. "Dumbledore's orders?"
Sirius threw back the drink and contemplated the bottom of his glass before answering, "yup, Dumbledore's orders."
"I get that you didn't trust her before, but I thought things were getting better. Civil. Friendly. So what was that?" James asked firmly.
"You just can't bloody let it go, yeah." Sirius stopped pacing long enough to light another cigarette. "Like a dog after a bone."
"You're the mutt here. Arse headed mutt."
James gave him a pointed stare while Sirius concentrated on blowing smoke rings. Finally, he turned to James.
"My brother never told me they were engaged."
"Engaged!" James opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Oh... Erm..."
Sirius lit a new cigarette from the one he last smoked, stubbed out the one he had just finished and took a couple of deep drags. His fingers fumbled a bit.
"She didn't tell me either, for that matter," he muttered. "It doesn't matter. I know Reg and I don't talk, but I reckoned he would at least tell me something this important." He shrugged. "Perhaps I overestimated what the little bugger and I had, being brothers and all." The nonchalant way the last statement was thrown in belied Sirius' hurt.
"Wait for it. He'll probably tell you. Maybe he's just waiting for a good time to tell you without having Malfoy looking over your shoulders."
"Maybe."
James looked sympathetic but there was an assessing look as well; Sirius knew that soon enough James would return to the topic of Dorcas. Sirius didn't like the implications of that look, particularly when he didn't know the answers even to his own questions.
"If it's Regulus who should tell you, why are you taking it out-"
"Isn't Lily waiting for you?" Sirius spoke harshly over the question, effectively ending the conversation. James took the hint.
"Yeah," James said curtly. "Sorry I can't join the party."
James made to leave, but at the edge of the fireplace, he stopped for a minute. Then he faced Sirius and gave him a small smile. "But you have fun. Might be good for you. And find Remus, make sure he enjoys himself."
Sirius accepted the truce by touching tip of his eyebrow with his glass in a small salute. "Yeah. Give my love to Lils."
"Too late for that," James kidded. "Who wants some old mutt when she's got me."
"Ha! You think you're pretty witty."
"Aren't I?" James flung back and stepped into the fireplace and through a series of grates to return to his own home in the other side of London.
There was a knocking on the kitchen door and a feminine voice muffled by the music called out, but when Sirius opened the door, she was no longer there. He contemplated on slamming the door behind him but realized that he didn't have the urge to do so anymore. The toned down argument with James had diffused his anger, and it dawned on him how well his friend actually knew him, probably much more than he knew himself.
The party was well underway. The music was louder and the people more drunk.
The redhead he was talking to earlier headed his way.
"Where'd you go off to?" She plied a new drink into his hand. "I thought I heard James Potter through the kitchen door."
Sirius threw her an amused look. Her tank top was low-cut and if the view wasn't so engrossing, he wouldn't give her the time of day.
"Actually Caroline, I thought I saw James with those blokes over there." A hand pointed towards the window through which a group of guys could be seen outside. Sirius followed the hand, up an arm and saw that it belonged to a petit blond- Zoe Fowler, he was certain- who was a year above him and used to be in Ravenclaw. She played chaser and was Quidditch captain in her last year. More importantly, she was one of those birds people talked about constantly, even after she had left Hogwarts and while she was there, majority of the male population claimed to be in love with her. The remaining minority (and Sirius admitted that he belonged to this group) claimed that they could make her fall in love with them.
"Are you sure? You truly saw James out there?" Caroline, the redhead gushed.
"Oh yes!" Zoe exclaimed. It was a pretty good imitation of Caroline, who didn't seem to notice. "And he didn't look scrawny at all. Quite the opposite, very buff and yum."
Sirius eyed the redhead's departing form then turned to Zoe and grinned. "Hullo."
"Hullo? Is that all you could say?" She raised an eyebrow. "Then I think your reputation has grown out of proportion in the telling."
Sirius gave her an appraising look then deciding, he stepped closer to her, doing nothing at all just invading her personal space. He waited for her breathing to become erratic, focusing on the rise and fall of her chest and the throb of the pulse on her neck. After he was certain he disconcerted her enough, he stepped back just as calmly.
"Zoe Fowler, Quidditch captain. Bloody brilliant save with the Potter fan. Apparently you have many talents aside from amazing Quidditch strategies." His tone was conversational, his expression bland. They could have been talking about the weather.
Zoe gave him a throaty laugh, not at all nervous, then licked her lips. "You have no idea."
Sirius gazed down at her lips then up to her eyes then back again to her lips. Then lower still. "Are you going to give me a clue?"
"I can give you a clue..." She cocked her head meaningfully towards the stairs. "...As long as it's in some place quiet."
On the landing at the top of the stairs, Zoe had Sirius pinned against the wall. She had pushed him hard enough to make the man in the loo step out for a moment in a cloud of illicit smoke to see what the disturbance was about. The man gave them a glassy eyed wink and returned to the bathroom.
Sirius took a deep breath of the narcotic. "The expensive kind, that one."
They laughed for a minute then she had her lips against his again, her left hand in his hair and her right hand inching its way downwards. He responded in kind, brushing his hands against her breasts.
He liked that she was aggressive, that she took the choice out of his own hands and made sure that this was all fun. He had an inkling that if Zoe had been Her- the only female that he had thought about often enough to merit a capital pronoun- he would have to meet her as an equal, measure for measure.
He liked that she was blond and petit, and hard to mistake for someone else. Yet when he closed his eyes, images of dark brown hair and hazel eyes flashed behind his lids, so he kept his eyes half open when they kissed.
He especially liked that there was no thinking and no feeling- at least nothing above his waist- involved. This was the old him and it was uncomplicated.
He led her towards his room and rested his hand on the knob.
"The door is unlocked."
Then he leaned against the door and crossed his arms, as if to prove that he can resist her. He waited for her to press her body against his, reach around him and open the door.
Dorcas stared at the mirror blindly then after a long moment she slid it into her robes. She didn't know what she expected from Sirius. Teasing to make her laugh? Reassurances that things would turn out right in the end? What she didn't expect was the cool reply, like he could barely stand the sight of her. It was as if they were back to their first meeting. Except he, not she, was the cool one now.
What was his bloody problem, she thought and studiously ignored the ache in her chest. After all, if there was anything she learned from being an Unspeakable it's that a person can be trained to withstand a great amount of pain. It was all in the mind, she was taught and Sirius had occupied too much space in there already.
The crunching sound of undergrowth meeting its early demise from being trampled upon was faint against the chorus of chirping crickets, rustling leaves and the occasional hooting owl but it signaled that she should start moving away from the forest that had served as a temporary hiding place, only a hundred or so kilometers from the Whispering Lodge. It could be Aurors or the other Death Eaters. With the former, there would be too much explaining to do- that's if they didn't use an Unforgivable first- and the latter would entail the rest of the night dissecting the mission and what went wrong, which they would do in tomorrow's revel anyway. Either of which she wasn't in the mood for.
She shrunk the broom she had flown on and transfigured it to resemble the leaves of the tree she was sheltering under. As what was once an expensive broom fluttered from her fingers, she mouthed a silent I'm sorry to the owner who would not hear it and never know and Disapparated.
The scent of muggle London was the first thing to assault her, even before the world stopped spinning around her and the colors solidified into actual surroundings. The heavy smell of soil, still wet from yesterday's shower, indicated a small urban garden, which she spotted the moment her eyes regained their focus. The aroma of baking bread drifted from an all night tea shop across the street where its big glass windows revealed men with collars pulled up to hide their faces and women with tiny muggle clothing. Next to it was a bank of closed shops with their shutters pulled over display glasses and massive chains with heavy metal locks embracing their doors. This was a relatively new addition, only this year Dorcas was certain, in response to the recent spate of break-ins the area had experienced. She and Benjy had been sent some time back, before the Death Eater rally in Alley Square, to investigate if they were wizarding related. Much to their surprise (and consternation for being ordered into one of the seediest parts of London) it wasn't.
She studied the street traffic from the alcove that she had Apparated in. They were mostly bone weary contractual workers and women peddling their wares. They were all tired, uncaring and unobservant. Casting a charm to make her robes look like a long coat, even if it was inappropriate in the summer, she stepped out and headed for the closest station.
The nearest station was a mile away and she was only halfway there when she felt a strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck.
Trust your instincts.
Tutela's voice echoed in her mind, a remnant of her early days of training.
She quickened her pace, heading for the shadowed portion of a stretch of blank wall part of a closed shoe repair shop. Her back pressed against the wall, she tightened her grip on her wand but kept both her hands hidden in the folds of her robe.
Closer to the station now, the street traffic was slightly different. There were fewer people on the streets, majority of whom were homeless rather than the late night workers. Someone was following her. Her gut was certain and her sight alighted on each of their faces, looking for something suspicious- a small movement that indicated a call sign, an unusual article of clothing, even the outline of a wand. But they all seemed innocuous.
She weighed her options. She could stay here and wait out an attack, finding out once and for all whether her tail was a seeming enemy like the Aurors or a seeming friend like the Death Eaters. The problem with waiting was that if she was wrong then she'd be standing in the middle of muggle London for the rest of the night. Or she could keep moving, hoping to lose the person. But if she was unable to, then she would be leading him directly to her home.
Her pulse had speeded up but remained regular, a deep insistent thrum in her veins. It wasn't fear, she realized, almost like excitement and the adrenaline rush was heightened by the anticipation.
Then she smiled and headed for the stairs leading to the Underground.
She stopped first at the loo and this time changed the charm to make it look like she was wearing muggle jeans and a T-shirt. Then she cast a Confounding charm to disguise her trail.
Reaching the booth, she realized she was too late for they had already closed, but she knew that there would be one more train. Deciding, she broke into a run and vaulted the barriers. There were no alarms raised, no shouting guards. Once she reached the platform, she slowed her speed to a walk and tried to remain nonchalant. Three teens in chains and black clothing were standing by the edge of the platform and talking noisily. The one with the gravity defying spikes and nose ring gave Dorcas a low whistle. Sitting on one of the benches, the woman in a rumpled office dress and an equally rumpled expression gave her a passing glance.
Aside from having to cast a weak Confounding charm on the muggles, the trip remained uneventful, although the feeling that she was still being trailed remained with her. She changed trains every so often and sat next to the doors. The thought that she was being paranoid crossed her mind and she dismissed it as not being so bad. She was trained by Tutela to be paranoid. If Moody could see her, he would approve.
Once returned above ground, she Disapparated again to a different location. She made sure she disguised her trail, stopping after every Apparition to cast a Confounding charm, using muggle transport as often as possible and maintaining a circuitous route.
It was a block away from her home when all the lights on her street went out.
Immediately, her wand was trained on the person she was certain was behind her, only to find that that person had a wand trained on her as well.
In the light of the moon, all she could make out was the glint of the Death Eater mask.
"Miss Meadowes." It was the gravely voice of her partner in the mission. "As much as I enjoyed hunting you up and down London, I think we both know that this is over. I won. You might as well put your wand down and listen."
Dorcas schooled her expression to appear blank but her wand remained steady.
"You would not have lead me to a merry chase through half of London if it you did not fear the Death Eaters," he growled.
"You could have been an Auror," Dorcas countered.
She was halfway through a spell when she found herself unable to move and floating above the ground. All she could see was the Death Eater mask looming close to her face. She could almost taste as well as smell his stench. The man's hand was out of her field of vision and since she could not move, she could only anticipate what he was going to do.
Then she felt his hand slip into her robes. She felt his long nails snag against the cloth as he patted her down until he reached the hidden pocket sown on the inside by her hip. Then he raised the communicating speculum to her line of vision.
It seemed like eternity before he spoke.
"This is a very rare magical item. Very few wizards could afford to own something like this. Who were you calling?"
"It is an heirloom," said Dorcas a bored voice. "I come from a very old Wizarding family. Unlike some."
The implication was unmistakable and the Death Eater took the bait.
Growling, he said, "do not play with me. Who will you talk to with this? Your parents in their graves? If I say Regulus Black would his face appear?"
"Are you questioning my loyalty? We can go to the Dark Lord and have him settle this."
She threw the threat out cavalierly but she hoped he would not call out her bluff.
The man drew closer and inhaled deeply. Then threw his head back and sounded a coarse laugh.
"A while ago you smelled different. The chase excited you. It was almost second nature to you, this secrecy, running, hiding. But now, your scent has changed. You reek of fear. I think I can guess who holds the other mirror. I remember that Meadowes had two little girls. You have a sister. A squib. Tell me, how would the Dark Lord react if he found out there is a squib in the family?"
"You insult me," she spat out. "I have not spoken to my worthless sister ever since I've entered Hogwarts."
The man cupped her chin. His foul breath fanned her face as he spoke. "Is that the truth?"
Dorcas kept her face expressionless and stared him down.
"Remember your loyalties," said the man. "You think you came close to a Cruciatus or an Avada Kedavra. But what I will do to you I will enjoy much more than an Unforgivable Curse."
He ran his hand down her neck.
"Such soft skin, such fragile bones. So much fun to hunt."
And with that, the man turned around and disappeared into the night, a hunter blending in with the shadows.
It was only when he Disapparated that the spell was broken.
The first thought that rushed through her mind was that she would have to do something about the mirror, which the Death Eater had taken. She needed to inform Sirius not to use it because if he did then the Order would be found out. But aside from using the communicating speculum- which was now out of the question- or going to his shop tomorrow, she didn't know how to get in touch with Sirius. She realized she did not even know where he lived. Her mind didn't appear to be working properly because the answer to her problem eluded her and she was much too weary to go hunting for a Death Eater. And if she did find him, given her state, there wasn't any way that she could physically beat him or mentally out wit him into returning it.
Lying like a broken heap in the middle of the street, Dorcas willed herself to stand up. Her house was only a block away but she couldn't direct her feet to move in that direction. Instead, the urge to stay out in muggle London overwhelmed her. She knew logically that since she has already been threatened that they will not try anything else tonight. But emotionally she needed to move away from her home to keep it safe. It was only place untouched by the war; the place where she was just herself and not playing a role. And running around London would be more for her peace of mind than anything else. Part of her deeply ingrained training reminded her that a moving target was harder to kill.
In the end, rather than wandering around London she stayed outside for half an hour watching the darkened street and jumping at every sound. Her mind was cruel to her, bringing to fore the memories of a much-needed embrace and the feelings of comfort and- yes, she would admit it in the dark- attraction that it evoked. Anything else but this helplessness that overwhelmed her, crawling down her throat to suffocate her. Yet, with how things were between her and him, the memory served more to torture than to comfort.
Added to this, the hysteria that lurked just beneath her tenuous control evident in her hands that wouldn't stop shaking, disturbed her. Her hands never shook before.
How she made her way home eluded her, only the moment she had locked her front door and reset her wards, she refused to think anymore and the draught that Sirius had once given her was a welcome succor.
AN:
Thanks for the reviews! Virtual chocolates for all- I know it isn't productive but it's the thought that counts (I hope). :) I try to reply to reviews with reply links but if there isn't one, to comply with ffnet's policies, I can only write a general thank you. I hope the virtual chocolates make up for it.
I have to say sorry if there are any Londoners reading this as I may have butchered the Underground. I wanted to give a specific station and write a better description of the street above it, but was unable to do so because of lack of research on my part. My fault entirely. Considering how much time and effort a lot of the fanfic writers put into their works, I feel remiss and see the need to apologize for it. I have a longer message on my profile page, if anybody feels the need to read it, but this is generally the gist of it.
Anyway, thanks again! I hope you enjoyed this.