Hello, this story came to me as I was picking up dinner from my loving mother. I have a terrible reputation for updating, but I am going to try my best. I have a break from work at the moment so I should have a bit of down-time. Anyway, I hope you like it.

It's based in Marauder-era, non-canon AU.

Doe

And with a final thud, the boy with the lightning scar and the weight of the world on his shoulders fell to the floor. Dead.

Gasping, Doe shot upright in bed, her heart pounding as she struggled to catch her breath. Blinking furiously she put her fingertips to her face, looking at them strangely when they came away wet. Tears, she realised. She was crying. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on what she had just seen. It had been years and years of war. Of fear, torture and murder. A boy, with black hair and familiar green eyes who carried a scar on his forehead. His parents murdered young and he left to be raised in the Muggle World. Familiar parents. Lily Evans and James Potter, two Gryffindors in her year who, as far as she knew, hated each other with a fiery passion. Well, at the least, Evans hated Potter. And there were others she recognised. Remus Lupin, older and also dead. Sirius Black, imprisoned and then gone. Marlene McKinnon, murdered. The Prewett brothers, murdered. Benjy Fenwick, a Gryffindor in seventh-year, murdered. And Dorcas Meadowes, Doe herself, murdered personally by Lord Voldemort before she hit her 21st birthday. Could it be real? It had seemed too real. Years condensed into one night of terror.

Already, she could feel the memories fading, slipping in their clarity. Frantically, she opened the curtains to her four-poster, being careful not to disturb her roommates, and grabbed an empty notebook she had stashed in her bedside draws. With it, she found a muggle pen she had smuggled into the school, and uncapping it clumsily she tried to write it all down.

Lord Voldemort, he had had a name, hadn't he? But she just couldn't find it. The first thing lost. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, it was gone, what she had seen. All she knew was that people would die, kids like her, in both her future and the next-generations, if she didn't try and stop it.

The thought hit her out of nowhere and she jerked upright, shocked at herself. If she didn't stop it? Who did she think she was?

She was no one special. Doe Meadowes, fifth-year Hufflepuff, the quiet half-blood who kept to herself. Not a brave bone in her body. Then it hit her quite suddenly, Professor Dumbledore could help her. He would know what was going on, reassure her that it was just a terrible dream. Sighing heavily, she put the notebook back in her draws and curled back under the covers. It was still so early and she had hours before she needed to be up.

"I'll see Professor Dumbledore tomorrow," she whispered to herself. "After I've slept. Maybe it'll all be clearer."

Settling back into her pillows, she tucked her legs up into her chest and closed her eyes tightly, waiting for sleep to come back to her.

It didn't seem like too much time had passed before Doe was woken by movement in the dorm room. Groggily, she opened her eyes and yawned, stretching herself out as she got out of bed. Around her, her dorm mates were getting themselves ready for the day, chatting as they did so.

"Lottie, have you got my yellow hair slide?" Sylvie Fawcett called out from the bathroom.

Lottie, Charlotte Andrews, looked around her space for a moment before brightening and brandishing the aforementioned hair slide in the air triumphantly. "Got it!"

Sylvie popped out of the bathroom and took it, thanking Lottie with a quick hug. She noticed Doe then, just finishing up the buttons on her school shirt and beamed brightly. "Morning Doe!" she called, waving enthusiastically.

Doe waved back, "Morning," she said quietly, unable to resist the sincerity of her roommate as she flounced back into the bathroom.

"Morning, Doe," Lottie said to her, just as kindly. From her side, Arabella Jones smiled at her too. It seemed their last roommate, day-dreaming Pandora, had already left for breakfast.

"Do you want to walk with us to breakfast?" Sylvie asked as she came from the bathroom, swinging her bag onto her shoulder.

"I'll meet you down there," Doe said, tugging on her hair. "I need to sort this mess out." It seemed that all of her tossing and turning had knotted up her usually manageable dark hair.

"Yes, I can see it is a tad messy today," Lottie said with a grin. "We'll save you a seat," she said as the girls exited the dorm and out into the common room.

Doe watched them go, smiling fondly. She was not particularly close with her roommates, kind as they were, but even so, they did their best to make her feel included in their activities. The truth was, Doe was not very good at making friends with people. Marlene McKinnon, a Gryffindor in her year had once described her as being more timid than a porlock in a new field. That had stung a bit, but she had let it brush over her, content in living on the outskirts, staying out of the way as best she could. Her mother had warned her years ago that drawing too much attention to herself could be a problem.

Finally ready, having untangled her hair and piling it into a loose bun on the top of her head, she headed down into the Common Room, which was empty. Everyone else must already be at breakfast, she realised. Hopefully she'd be able to sneak in quietly and without commotion. As she made her way up towards the Great Hall she thought on the dream she had had. Well, nightmare, she supposed. It was growing more and more hazy as time passed and she thanked her lucky stars she had written down what she had been able to remember. That notebook sat in her book bag now, nestled in tightly between her favourite copy of Pride and Prejudice and Hogwarts: A History. It should be safe enough there, she figured, at least until she could go see Professor Dumbledore. Like she had predicted, the Great Hall was full when she made her way through the doors, and thankfully loud enough that her late entrance didn't draw any eyes.

Suddenly, her name was being called over the cacophony of noise and Sylvie's hand was waving madly in the air. "Doe!" she cried. "Over here, Doe!"

Doe winced a little at the attention, shrinking into herself as eyes turned to her in the doorway. Thankfully, a sudden commotion over at the Gryffindor table distracted everyone and Doe was free to hurry towards her housemates.

"Thanks Sylvie," she said gratefully as the other girl slid over to fit her in.

"Can you believe them?" Arabella huffed indignantly, glaring over at the Gryffindor table through narrowed eyes.

As everyone turned to look, Doe realised she was talking about the so-called Marauders. A group of four fifth-year Gryffindors who made it their life's mission to prank the general population of Hogwarts something awful. They were ridiculously popular, evidenced by the way Sylvie and Lottie sighed dreamily in their direction.

"Sirius Black is so gorgeous," Sylvie sighed, "I'm so pleased we have some classes with the Gryffindors this year."

"As long as they don't distract from our O.W.L.S, I'll be fine," Arabella grumbled.

"Oh, you're just sore that they beat us in Quidditch last year," Lottie giggled.

"I just don't know how Potter could have possibly got that last quaffle past me!" Arabella exploded. "It's just ridiculous!"

Arabella was the Keeper on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and had not been pleased when they had been knocked out of the finals by a last minute goal from James Potter.

"And that Black is just so arrogant," she continued, scowling over at them now. "You know he asked out Hestia last year? She was a seventh-year and he thought he had a chance!"

"What do you think, Doe?" Lottie asked, turning to Doe who choked on the kipper she had just put in her mouth.

Hurriedly, she swallowed, and reached for her goblet of pumpkin juice. "Sorry," she said, "What was that?"

"Potter and Black? What do you think of them?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh, well, I suppose they're okay," she said slowly. "Potter's quite good at Transfiguration, and they're both good Quidditch players."

Arabella groaned, letting her head sink to the table.

"Sorry," Doe said, wide-eyed.

Sylvie and Lottie burst into giggles, leaning into each other as Arabella mumbled under her breath.

"You're very good at Quidditch too, Arabella, I'm always quite impressed when you play," Doe went on, hoping that the other girl would lift her head.

No such luck, instead, if anything, the grumbling grew louder. However, before she could give it much more thought, the owls flew through the Great Hall, and Bingley, her mother's tawny was landing in front of her.

"Thanks, Bing," she murmured, slipping him a treat as she took the letter. He nipped at her fingers affectionately before flying off.

Unravelling the letter, she smiled as she read through her mother's stories from the past week.

Dearest Doe,

Your father and I miss you very much, my darling. It's only been a week and already we are absolutely bored to death without you here. And on top of you leaving your poor mother behind, your father's gone and got himself a promotion at the Ministry. He is now working directly under Alastor Moody, which he is enjoying greatly although I am not quite as pleased.

I hope your first week hasn't been too awful, O.W.L.S are just dreadful, I absolutely hated mine. But I trust you to keep working hard and stay focused. If you need anything, let us know. And try to join a study group or something, Doe, a few close friends to see over the holidays wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Stay safe, be good, and we'll see you at Christmas.

All our love,

Mum and Dad

P.S, Doe, your mother's being dramatic. She's not alone as nearly as much as she would have you think. She and Mrs. Prewett from over the hill have begun a weekly game of poker that they don't think I know about.

Love you, be safe.

Dad

Doe snorted at her mother's dramatics, imagining clearly the self-satisfied smile she would have on her delicate face. Her father too, would be beside her, rolling his eyes at his wife's antics. They were just as playful with each other now, after seventeen years of marriage as they had been when they met in Hogwarts.

"Something funny, Doe?" a new voice asked her, and she turned to see Henry Pickett, a boy in her year, smiling at her.

"Just my mum," she said, "She's a tad dramatic."

He nodded understandingly. "Yes, mine too," he laughed. "Funny, aren't they, mums?"

Doe smiled in agreement, before once again, someone called her name. She turned around, in utter shock at the impossibility that so many people would want to speak to her in one morning. And there, coming towards her, was Gideon Prewett, the son of the woman her mother was now gambling with. Doe felt her face redden and her heart pound.

"Wotcher Doe," he said pleasantly, coming to a stop in front of her. Her dorm mates and the other Hufflepuffs around them stopped what they were doing and watched the two in interest.

"Hi, Gideon, uh, how are you?"

"Great, Doe, thanks. Listen, I was chatting to Hagrid and he mentioned that you had a great book on Hippogriffs, I'm basing an extra-credit project on them and wanted to ask if I could borrow if?"

"Oh," she said, quite surprised. It was rare that Gideon Prewett needed anything from anyone. He was easily top of his year, and a shoe-in for Head Boy the next year. "Sure, I can bring it to dinner, if you'd like?"

"That'd be great, thanks Doe," Gideon said, smiling so brightly Doe felt like she was going to faint, "I'll catch up with you later?" he said, waving as he turned and headed back to his brother at the Gryffindor table.

Doe blinked at the table in front of her for just a moment until she came too, Sylvie whispering eagerly in her ear. "I didn't know you liked Gideon?" she hissed, her eyes bright and excited.

"No, no," she tried to protest. "I don't, I don't really know him."

"Nonsense," Lottie added, just as excited. "Look at you blushing, and you got all tongue-tied and nervous. I've never seen you like that before," she giggled.

Feeling the heat creeping back into her cheeks, Doe forced a laugh as she quickly drained her goblet. Standing quickly, she sprung away from the table. "Would you look at that, better get a move on or I'll be late for Potions," she said awkwardly as she rushed away from the table, ignoring the calls of the girls behind her.

Heading down into the dungeons alone was always a daunting experience as the usually well-lit castle dimmed and the corridors grew cold and damp. Usually, she would try and tail the others in her class but in her haste to escape her own embarrassment she had left her year mates behind. Finally, she came to the Potions classroom and was pleased to see she would not be waiting on her own. Potions was one of the classes they shared with the Gryffindors, and it seemed the fifth-year girls had had the same idea as Doe. Lily Evans stood with her friends Mary and Marlene, chatting quietly. As she caught sight of the girls laughing face and the way her dark red hair swung around in her mirth, Doe felt a sharp pain in her chest.

Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -

Doe stumbled as the memory of those voices reappeared. The terror, the pain, the hopelessness. James Potter lying dead, Lily Evans dead. A baby left all alone. Merlin, this had to be a dream. Anything else and they had an entire world poised on the edge of disaster.

"Meadowes, you okay?" Doe realised she had faltered and was leaning heavily on the wall. The Gryffindor girls were looking at her strangely. Mary MacDonald was the one who had spoken, her dark eyes scanning Doe as she blinked at them blearily.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Sorry," she said.

"You sure?" Mary said, walking towards her. "You look a bit pale."

"Paler than usual anyway," Marlene McKinnon chimed in, giggling to herself.

Both Mary and Lily rolled their eyes at their friend.

"Mary's right, Meadowes, you don't look well," Lily said, stepping forward with her hand outstretched as though to press it to Doe's forehead.

Doe pushed herself off the wall and away from the others. "I'm fine, I promise, just a poor night's sleep, you know?" She tried to smile but knew it came off as more of a pained grimace.

"As long as you're sure, we can always tell Slughorn where you are if you need to go to the Hospital Wing," Lily offered kindly.

"I'm sure, thanks though," Doe assured them.

She was thankfully spared any more of an interrogation by the arrival of the rest of the class, lead by two very loud boys. James Potter and Sirius Black were laughing uproariously as they came down the corridor, their friend Remus Lupin behind them looking on fondly, while their fourth Peter Pettigrew looked up at them in admiration. Doe couldn't explain it but the second she saw Pettigrew a wave of burning anger flooded her body. She caught herself curling her lip at the boy and glaring furiously before she shook herself out of it, utterly confused. She hadn't ever felt angry like that before. Let alone at someone she didn't even know. She couldn't recall a time where she had even spoken to the poor sod.

"Evans!" James Potter's boisterous voice rang out, his eyes bright as he caught sight of Lily. "You didn't wait for me to walk you," he teased, winking showily.

Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off –

This time she did feel herself falling, a quiet groan leaving her mouth involuntarily as she sagged against the cold stone. Lily started towards her, eyes wide and concerned. The group approaching them had stopped too and were watching her strangely.

"Doe, are you okay?" Sylvie pushed her way forward, coming to stand beside Doe and resting a careful hand on her waist.

"Can you – I think I need to go to the Hospital Wing," Doe said breathlessly. "Can you tell Slughorn?"

"Lottie and Arabella will," Sylvie said. Doe looked at her and was rather concerned to see the blur that her face had become, her curly hair fading.

In fact, everything around her was fading. Dimly, she could hear frantic voices.

"I don't know what's wrong, she was fine this morning!"

"She looks rather peaky –"

"Ruddy hell, someone catch her!"

Doe felt a pair of arms encircle her and lower her gently to the ground, seeing a pair of sharp dark eyes looking into hers, concerned, before she succumbed to the black surrounding her.

Leave a review if you have any critique or comments. I would love to hear them.