Hullo lovelies!

Quite a bit happens in this chapter. One scene in particular I've been looking forward to for a while! I am also TERRIBLY sorry in advance. I shall not say anything further.

Please, please leave a review and let me know what you think x

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me


One of the first days of the year. Bright, frigid and a fresh snowfall. Bright blue skies, wispy clouds. Lily Evans was in the Manor's kitchen, humming as she flipped the bacon in the pan in front of her; the sizzling sound crackled against her eardrums.

James was slumbering upstairs in their room, entangling in blankets and quilts, hair mussed. She'd spooned him last night, wrapped onto him like a koala. Normally she was the little spoon, but she'd gone to sleep after him.

The room Lily had stayed in during her prior visits to Potter Manor houses a great deal of her belongings, most of it had been unpacked, but there were still boxes of books and knick knacks piled in the corner of the room. Thoughts of finally unpacking it all skipped through her mind as she cooked.

"That smells good," came from the door. Lily looked up from her pan and saw Draco and Remus crowding the doorway. Both flush, sweaty and panting heavily.

Draco woke with the dawn, and dressed warmly: grey knit cap on his head, he'd transfigured a pair of trousers into black leggings, tossed on running shorts, pulled thick socks onto his feet that he shoved into his black trainers, a long-sleeved cotton turtleneck shirt underneath a black hoodie. On his hands were his knit gloves. He'd jogged over to Remus's room, and roused his friend. (They were also going to use warming charms.)

Fifteen minutes later, a groggy Remus was dragging his feet, following his best mate and grumbling about how it was too bloody early for this shite. He was wearing a similar getup to his friend (who had organised his outfit). That was an hour ago.

"Did you wrestle a bear?" Lily asked, looking up at the boys. She moved the pan off the heat. Her bacon was done. Cripsy, but with enough fat and give that it would melt in the mouth. The smell was intoxicating.

Draco laughed breathily, shaking his head as he entered the room. He discarded his gloves on a spare bit of countertop, and headed for the cupboards behind Lily to grab glasses for water. He stuttered to a stop, his trainers squeaking against the kitchen tiles when he rounded the island and got a better look at Lily.

Lily was oblivious to Draco's intense observation. His mouth was wide open in delighted shock, his eyes rounded, hands on his hips as he tried not snort out a laugh.

"What's wrong—" Remus started, crossing the room in several long strides, but he too stopped short once he saw Lily's rear.

Lily Evans had reached the partial transformation phase of her animagus training, and she could not be more thrilled. A few changes: her hearing had sharpened partially, her nose twitched randomly, and smells were more potent than before.

Unbeknownst to her, Lily had a bushy tail swishing merrily underneath her plum sundress; it prominently protruded from her rear, the fabric of her dress draped over it.

Draco couldn't hold his laughter any longer, and it bubbled out of him. A pure sound like a bell tolling swam from his lips in a carefree, airy way. He clutched his sides, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He knew he shouldn't laugh, but it was the cutest thing.

Lily exacerbated the situation as she spun in a circle, asking if she had something on her dress. She was chasing her tail, her cheeks and ears burning red.

Remus remarkably kept it together, hand over his mouth as he stifled his laugh. Hazel eyes glittering with amber and gold.

In between gasping breaths and wild laughter, Draco eventually told her. Lily turned pink from her ears to the swell of her breasts, gobsmacked. Lily's body was twisted, one hand reached behind her, patting for her tail. Once she found it she let out a soft, embarrassed gasp. "Oh."

After he'd gathered himself, Draco went over to Lily, placed his hands on her shoulders, instructed her to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly, and spoke to her in soothing tones. About nothing in particular. Random facts that popped into his head. Nothing that mattered in the grand scheme of things.

Several minutes later, Lily made an odd noise, and with raised brows felt her arse. A relieved sigh blew through her parted lips. Her tail had vanished.

There was a sadness to Draco's smile after she informed him. "I thought you would look more glad, or—I wasn't expecting you to be sad."

Draco seemed unaware of his own emotions because he blinked blankly at her, lips pursed. "I was just thinking about how I helped Pete out of a similar situation years ago."

"Ah." Left Lily's mouth. She was unsure why that made Draco unhappy. "I wish Pete would come round more often."

"Me too," Draco said tightly. He released Lily's shoulders, and shifted to his right, opening one of the upper cabinets before withdrawing two glasses. A tightness wound his jaw shut, and melted snow on his eyelashes glinted in the light. There were darker patches on their clothes where the snowflakes had melted.

Remus refrained from commenting. He silently leaned against the nearest countertop, arms folded over his chest. Remus's bonds with his fellow pack members and Lily had strengthened since they graduated, something he didn't know was possible, whereas the one tying him to Peter was stagnant, no stronger or weaker than when they'd been seventeen.

In an attempt to liven the mood once more, Lily chose to change the topic. Lily smiled brightly—pearly white teeth on display (the two in the middle of the bottom row were slightly turned, but she didn't care)—held up her spatula, and asked, "Breakfast?"


Saturday, January 6th, 1979

Potter Manor

The first sensation that kissed her skin as she woke was the clamorous cold rolling around the room; clinging to everything it touched. Lily pried an eye open. It was dim, the drawn curtains blowing furiously in the Winter air. A few snowflakes were blown in with them.

Lily rolled over, hand blindly fumbling about the bedside table until she found her wand. Her fingers were numb with sleep and almost knocked it onto the ground. She firmly grasped it, and with sleep clogging her brain's gears she waved it at the window. It shut harshly, the casement windows slamming against the mullions. The wind whistled as it kissed the glass.

Lily returned her wand to her bedside table, and rubbed her cold hands together—her fingers prickling—before she tucked herself back under the duvet; up to her cupid's bow. It was much darker now, the meagre light fighting its way past the translucent turquoise curtains.

When did our curtains change colour? I didn't do it…did Mipsy? Lily wondered as her brain warmed up. A unruly head of raven curls was peeking out from the duvet in front of Lily, and she slowly came to the realisation that a warm body was beside her, a body that was not James.

A few seconds later it all came back to her; she was in Hermione's room. The pair wanted to have a girls night: Hermione had braided Lily's hair, they painted their nails a matching royal purple colour, and they'd nicked Sirius's record player and listened to far too many vinyl records and sang at the top of their lungs whilst jumping on Hermione's bed. Some Firewhisky might have been involved.

Lily stared at the back of Hermione's head for minutes, or perhaps an hour. Her eyes followed all the curves, kinks and twirls Hermione's hair made; she'd always loved her wild curls, they had a life of their own.

Lily was watching her so closely, she noted when Hermione's breathing pattern changed, and the witch made a few soft sounds as she roused, greeting a new day. Hermione rolled onto her back, eyelids drooping with sleep, mouth working into a sizable yawn. The mattress dipped and the duvet shifted as the witch woke.

"Good morning," Lily whispered.

Drowsily Hermione's head fell to the side against her pillow, a dreamy smile playing with her features. Hermione's warm hand found one of Lily's, and she squeezed tightly. "Morning, Lilypad."

"What do you want to do today?" Lily asked. The boys were thinking about camping out in the Orchards for the weekend, just because they could. The Potters had a magical tent stashed somewhere according to Mipsy, and all the boys lit up with excitement upon that discovery, announcing that they simply had to find it.

A strange expression contorted Hermione's features; unease braided with fear and anxiety. "I have something to tell you."

Lily opened her mouth to speak, but instantly closed it. Hermione adjusted into an upright position, she leant back against her upholstered headboard, her curls a mess from sleep, and pulled the duvet up to her ribcage. Their clasped hands were outside the warm cocoon resting on the duvet in between them, and thankfully the room had warmed a touch.

Hermione's other hand played with the front of her old Quidditch jersey. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Lily emerged from under the duvet, taking a similar position to her friend, but she twisted onto her side, her entire body facing Hermione.

Lily rubbed her thumb across Hermione's hand, and found herself examining the tiny faded scars (only a handful) that the girl had gotten after years of brewing potions. The occasional nick or burn occurred during the brewing process; Lily had more than her fair share of matching blemishes. She could have healed them completely with dittany, but she'd let hers heal naturally, it seemed Hermione had as well. There was pride behind each scar, a story, and an accomplishment.

"We—I should have told you before. I feel dreadful keeping it from you all this time… but I can't any longer." Hermione drank in air in an unsteady, cautious manner, eyes trained on the ceiling above her. As if looking at Lily would break her resolve, or she wouldn't be able to bring the words forth. Normally Hermione was brave to a fault, something Lily had always admired.

What could be so bad that she's afraid to tell me? Lily thought. Outwardly she tried to soften the tense aura woven around the pair. "Is it about James? Some big family secret? Is there a dungeon under the Manor?"

A disbelieving laugh erupted from Hermione, and she finally looked Lily in the eye. "Lily Evans, you are a delight."

"Thanks, love," Lily said, squeezing Hermione's hand. Their legs brushed against one another as Lily scooted closer to her friend. Hermione didn't break eye contact as she mustered the courage to speak once more.

"I suppose it does fall in the family secret category. There isn't a delicate way to put this—" Hermione took a deep breath in and out before words spilled out of her mouth like rocks tumbling down a cliff in a landslide, "—Draco and I aren't siblings."

Lily blinked. The words didn't register in her brain before Hermione continued. "We were adopted by the Potters when we were eleven years old—a month before we started Hogwarts. But we aren't James's cousins like we led everyone to believe."

"What?"

"Draco and I aren't related—"

"Oh, I heard you," Lily said. Flabbergasted, her world was spinning. "WHAT?!"

Hermione winced at the exclamation but persevered, finishing dropping a bomb—a bloody nuke—on Lily's morning. "I can't say anything more than that about our past because of our Unbreakable Vow, but I thought you should know. You're family, and I feel awful about keeping this a secret from you for so long.

Lily raised a hand, the one clutching Hermione's fled her warm grasp and cradled her cheek in shock. Her mind was not working fast enough yet to compute everything she'd just learned, it was on the brink of short-circuiting. She was like a broken telly whose antenna was never in the right place so the picture was jerky, disjointed due to the poor connection.

"I need a minute," Lily said. She rocked her head side-to-side, gaze fixed on Hermione's hand and her purple nail polish, and the edges of the white duvet blurred in front of her. "I need a minute. You're not siblings?! Why in Merlin's name would you pretend to be?"

"For our safety," Hermione replied simply. The statement was short and sweet, allowing for no further inquiration. Hermione cleared her throat, and tacked on casually, "and…we're dating."

Lily froze, eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Her mind blank for several long moments. She didn't blink, so her eyes burned by the time she recalled that she should. She became overtly aware of the process, focusing on blinking once, twice, thrice. Air was trapped in her lungs, and she released it in a huge heave.

"Lily?"

"You're fucking what?!" The words burst out of Lily. She hadn't fully processed the words leaving Hermione's mouth; she technically understood all of them individually, but when Hermione'd strung them together in complete sentences, that baffled her. Lily jumped up onto her feet, rocking the bed in the process. She was holding her face in her hands, and an unbearable heat built up across her flesh.

"We're dating?" Hermione tried, holding herself in quiet shock, it was unclear she was masking her emotions, trying to maintain a calm façade.

"Merlin's sweaty bollocks. You aren't related and you're dating?" Lily asked, falling to her knees, causing Hermione to bounce in place for a second. Lily dove forward, grasping Hermione's face earnestly. She had so many questions.

A thought knocked on her mind's door, taking precedence over the other questions. "Wait, so when I thought you were secretly dating Remus again in Sixth year, cause you were all glowy and shite, it wasn't him at all, but DRACO?!"

"Yes," Hermione said carefully. Lily was smushing her cheeks together, playing with her face as her eyes widened in wonder as so many things clicked into place. So many details her mind had skipped over before now vividly bloomed, taking her on a stroll through her memories and shouting to make themselves known.

Lily's hands fell to her sides, and she collapsed sideways onto the bed, her arm stretching above her head towards the foot of the bed. Disbelief coursed through her veins. The silence was a tangible figure in between them, holding a hand over both of their mouths. Hermione made to break it first, her lips parting, but then another thought prodded at Lily's brain.

Lily flew up once more, this time her nose was inches away from Hermione's, and if she'd used any more force their faces would have collided painfully. "You've been dating for over two bloody years, and you didn't TELL me?!"

More questions. Lily asked about James, if anyone else knew. She was disappointed to find out she was the last of Potter Manor's occupants to know. She fired quick inquiries and was rewarded with swift answers. Who did know? Remus, Sirius, James, Dorea and Charlus had known whilst they were alive, and Minnie had probably guessed. Minnie? Long story. Not Peter? No. Were they planning on telling anyone else? Riley, one day.

"So James…?"

"We both consider him our brother. He is our brother, in every way but blood. But obviously, we don't consider each other siblings…it's fucking mental I know."

Lily wasn't quite as close to Hermione's face now, but she was playing with some of her curls as she asked questions. The locks were like dark silk under her fingertips. "How did it start? I am still wrapping my head around this, but blimey, Mione. I need details."

"That evening you left me with Smith," Hermione confessed sheepishly. Lily's jaw dropped, her fingers stilled.

"No way," Lily breathed, bewildered. She was on the world's most raucous rollercoaster and she was holding on for dear life as it did insane loops in quick succession.

"Draco found me with Smith's tongue down my throat, and hand on my arse. It didn't go well. Draco basically told Lysander to fuck off, and then stormed off in the foulest mood I think I've ever seen him in. Which is saying something."

"Keep going!" Lily bounced up and down, enthralled by an unknown tale. She'd missed out on too much of their relationship already, she wanted to know everything (within reason). Hermione had always been there to listen to her boy troubles and woes. Lily's heart squeezed sepulchrally at the thought that Hermione had gone through all of this on her own without anyone to pour her heart out to.

Hermione told her the whole magical tale. Lily observed as Hermione's face crinkled with happiness in a way she'd never seen before as she talked about Draco, about loving him, and what it was like to be loved by him. About him buying her potions ingredients for Valentine's Day, gifting her with bouquets of Calla Lilies, of being her support in difficult times, listening when she needed him to.

Hermione gave Lily insight into what it was like in the weeks following Dorea's death for the first time, and Lily wiped away the stray tears that rolled out of Hermione's eyes.

"I had feelings for Draco for a long time. We were twelve I think when I realised it wasn't sibling-like affection I held for him, but I also really liked Remus, and Moony deserves all the love in the world—in the universe," Hermione smiled wistfully.

"You did really love Remus. Didn't you?" Lily pried gently. She knew the answer. She'd seen the way the two of them were together, they were absurdly cute and in love at the time.

"I did. I still do, but not like that anymore. Moony is ours—"

"I don't think I'll be able to handle it if you tell me you lot are a thruple of some kind."

"What? Circe, no. Fuck. Remus made a joke along the same lines when we first told him."

"Was that hard?" Lily tried to envision Remus and Sirius's reactions; how they'd taken the news. She couldn't quite picture it.

"Remus took it surprisingly well…Sirius not so much. Which he was entitled to. He found out his best mates had been lying for six years, he was allowed to freak out a bit."

After listening to Hermione recount her grand love story with Draco, Lily came to the firm conclusion that the witch loved the man with everything she had. She loves him like I love James, Lily thought.

"You and Draco are an attractive couple," Lily mused aloud. Hermione's cheeks tinged a rosy pink in surprise at the admission. "What? I'm just telling the truth. You're both gorgeous." Lily harrumphed, "you know I wondered why neither of you had dated since your respective relationships with Remus and Marlene ended…Godric it makes so much sense now."

"You're taking this surprisingly well."

"Trust me, on the inside I am squealing like a schoolgirl, freaking the fuck out whilst compartmentalising all of this information for later."

"Understandable."

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to have a conversation with the young dragon." Lily blinked after the words left her mouth, and like a goldfish it opened and closed as she sputtered out, "the dragon on your back is for Draco isn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione said smiling deviously, looking rather smug and proud of the revelation.

"That is absurdly romantic, adorable and ridiculous all at the same time."

Hermione re-centred the conversation on Lily's previous declaration. "A conversation with Draco?"

"Don't worry your pretty head about it," Lily said. She pressed a chaste kiss to Hermione's forehead, and nimbly rolled out of her friend's bed. She determinedly ambled out of Hermione's room in a long-sleeved pastel pink shirt with the top two buttons undone (it had a rounded neckline), a pair of black cotton shorts, and pink woollen socks—one came halfway up her calf, the other was bunched up around her ankle.

Lily searched for her target in all the likely places: his room, the Sun room, the kitchen, their most frequented living spaces, the wondrous library, and she lingered outside Hermione and Draco's Potions room but decided against it. She was about to throw in the towel and wait until later when jolly sounds came from outside (the back of the Manor) through one of the open windows.

The skies were clear, the snowfall ceased, leaving behind fresh downy snow and three pairs of footprints curved from the base of the porch's steps and wove across the powder. Lily followed them like a hunter tracking its prey; shivering. She hugged her arms around her, teeth chattering. Lily was freezing in her thin clothes, but she had a mission.

Lily found Draco and Sirius standing beside the pool, both dressed in several layers. Hermione, Draco and Remus had worked together to weave strong warming charms into pools' walls and floor; so they could still use it during the winter. Remus was bundled in a thick blanket, a veridian jumper, black trousers, and black leather boots. He was reclining on a chair he'd moved from the back porch, and surrounded by the fresh snow. A dusting of the white powder clung to his sandy blond hair (it had returned to normal a couple weeks ago). He was languidly perusing the book laid in his lap.

Draco and Sirius were up to some tomfoolery or another; they were waving their wands at the pool water, creating tiny tornadoes that skipped across the surface. The cold bit at the soles of her feet, having soaked through the bottom of her socks instantly. She should have grabbed shoes.

Neither wizard noticed her until she was right on top of them. "Lily? Why are you dressed like that? You'll catch a cold—" Draco attempted, but Lily picked up speed and the redhead hurtled into the boy using all of her might and determination; she wrapped her arms around his waist and tackled him straight into the pool.

They emerged, breaking the water's surface violently. Lily clung to Draco's front, a fire burning in her bright green eyes. Draco was stunned.

"Evans! What the fuck."

"That's just a glimpse into my wrath if you ever hurt Hermione. AND for keeping it from me for so long." Lily swatted him. She was treading water, and her hands momentarily left Draco's water-logged jumper to push her crimson hair out of her face.

Draco put the pieces together, comprehension working its way into his visage as he also treaded water; they were in the deep end, and he wasn't tall enough to stand. "Hermione told you?"

"Yes. Just now."

The witch in question had thrown on a winter coat, and with bare legs and a pair of brown house slippers had trekked out into the snow, halting beside Remus's chair. The boy was thoroughly enjoying himself. "She definitely took it well."

"She just tackled him into the pool. That's your definition of taking it well?" Sirius asked, hand tucked into his leather jacket as he ambled over to them. He'd managed to avoid getting splashed by pool water, and amusement danced about him.

"I would have preferred if you hexed me. These shoes are rather nice. The water is going to ruin them," Draco sighed. Lily shrugged, and she made to swim to the pool's edge, but Draco had other ideas. Smiling mischievously, he swam after Lily, and once he reached her he placed a firm hand on her head and dunked her. He hastily retreated afterwards, swimming to the opposite end of the pool, his clothes billowing about him and slowing him down.

"DRACO!"

The pair caused quite a ruckus, laughing and shouting merrily as they splashed each other, play fighting as they tried to leverage and dunk each other. Draco was heavier, but Lily had a trick or two up her sleeve. James came outside with his red tartan blanket round his shoulders, yawning as he came to see what all the fuss was about.

"Victory is mine!" Lily roared triumphantly, her hands pushing down on Draco's shoulders. Successfully dunking him. The water in the pool is rocking, splashing and spilling over the edges.

"Fuck it," Sirius said. He unzipped his jacket, shrugged out of it and dropped it in Remus's lap. The wizard sprinted towards the pool, stopping to hop and remove his shoes and socks along the way. He cannonballed into the water, spraying water everywhere.

Lily's reaction to their secret was unforeseen, it hadn't gone as any of them had predicted. Aside from the fact that she didn't hate them. She definitely didn't hate them. The witch perpetually surprised the Marauders, subverting expectations flawlessly.

The rest of the pack shared a knowing glance, and before they knew it they too were racing for the pool, abandoning their heavier outer layers on the way. It would be a nightmare to get back inside, and they would most likely all immediately take hot baths and then curl up by the fire for the remainder of the day. (Mipsy would later assist them by gathering their things, and apparating their dripping persons directly into their respective bathrooms.)

One after the other they jumped into the pool. Lily was on Draco's back, arms loosely wrapped around his neck, grinning toothily as she welcomed them.

Hermione and Draco aren't related, and they are dating, Lily pondered with a soft snort. Draco was the most mysterious Marauder, that was true, but she felt as if she understood him better now through Hermione's earlier stories. They only confirmed what she'd known all along about Draco's character; he was kind, and one of the best people in her life.

Lily supposed she should have been more upset by how long they'd kept it from her, but she'd seen the conflict in Hermione's body as she worked up the nerve to confess to her. She was just happy that they'd trusted her enough to finally confide in her; to reveal their big secret.

Lily laid her head against Draco's as he swam over to their friends. It would be weird re-learning Hermione and Draco's dynamic with one another, and she couldn't promise not to swoon at the sight of them kissing or displaying romantic affection the first time she witnessed it. But, she found she didn't mind much. Her friends were both happily in love, and that was the only thing that really mattered.

Lily sighed contentedly, tightening her grip on her friend. She met his eye, and saw the relief and happiness held within his grey orbs. "I love you, Dray." Draco's eyebrows rose at the admission, and an expression she'd never witnessed Draco make crossed his features, it was vulnerable and raw; his smile wobbled.

"I love you too, Lilypad…even if you ruined my shoes."

"We were having a moment, you toerag."

"I thought that term of endearment was reserved for my dear brother."

Lily shook her head, reaching around to grasp his cheek. "Nope. I just call them as I see them."

Sirius interrupted the moment by splashing them both in the face. They sputtered, made eye contact and with swift agreement decided to take their revenge.

As they chased after Sirius, Lily briefly contemplated that none of them were related by blood (except James and Sirius), but their choices and circumstances had all led them here. They weren't bound by blood, but they were a family all the same, and she wouldn't trade any of them for the world.


Tuesday, January 30th, 1979

Potter Manor

Lily Evans' 19th Birthday

It was the worst birthday gift one could get. They were woken with tragic news of a friend's passing; the terrible, dreadful news that a friend had been murdered gruesomely.

The occupants of Potter Manor were in heady shock.

Sharp blue eyes, dark hair that swept down to the small of her back that was oft braided and arranged in elaborate hairstyles. Her aversion to dressing properly for any occasion. She laughed with her whole body, often clutching her sides or stamping her foot on the ground. Pandora, Emmeline and her had often gone into the Forbidden forest on weekends in search of magical plants to use in whatever experiments tickled their fancy.

She had just been vibrantly alive in their ballroom a month ago: glittering flowers made of silver had been braided through her thick plait that swung down her back, inky blue ribbon woven amongst the sections. Her midnight blue dress was low-cut, the bodice's fabric sheer (her nipples shamelessly visible) and ending in a black waistband and the skirt was loose layers of translucent blue tulle that floated as she moved.

The intel shared amongst the Order members revealed that the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort, had carried out the deed. He had personally seen to Dorcas Meadowes demise. The lingering question that had yet to be answered was, why?

Hermione wondered why Moody and the team of Aurors that had inspected the scene were so sure it was Voldemort. Perhaps he'd left a message. Perhaps they recognised his magical signature. Regardless, such an act was fearless, taunting the Aurors and the Ministry, telling them that they were powerless before his might.

Moody requested a floo call early that morning. He was paranoid as ever, and had boarded himself up in his office when he told them the news. Sirius boldly asked for details, tears marching down his cheeks, fists shaking. Hermione told him he didn't want that knowledge burdening him. Moody travelled the middle path—omitting gory details—and simply told them that there were signs of a struggle, and she'd been severed in half. It was a strange sight, she appeared to be peacefully sleeping when they found her top half.

Moody gave James and Sirius a couple days off to grieve, he did the same for Frank and Alice. His tone was dry, lacking emotion as he spoke. The man looked tired.

The loose plans the Marauders had to celebrate Lily's birthday fell apart. As did they. A dear friend had been cruelly ripped away from them, and numbly they mechanically gathered in the living room, bundling up in too many blankets, dragging pillows with them onto the floor. They stared into the fireplace, but saw through it, memories playing in their mind's eye.

Mipsy tried to get them to eat, but none of them heard her. They were entrenched in shock, it sizzled across their flesh.

Dorcas Meadowes was dead. And Lord Voldemort had killed her. She wasn't even nineteen years old. She had a crude tongue, sharp wit, fell for wizards too easily, and wrote poetry in her spare time. A curious girl with outrageous ideas.

She'd left behind mountains of books, sketchbooks filled with both masterpieces and shoddy doodles, notebooks half-full, their spines worn, and far too many paints and pencil crayons.

Dorcas'd lived with Emmeline in a small flat on the outskirts of Muggle London. Emmeline was away, in Bath visiting her elderly parents, and had come home to find her friend's body on their light, stained wooden floors.

Dorcas was the first person their age they'd known to die, ever. She was the first child soldier to die during a war she shouldn't have been fighting. Her death rocked them to their cores, bursting the pink bubble they'd been living in, reminding them that no one was safe. They were not invincible.

Dorcas was the first, but they knew she would not be the last.