"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards"
-Søren Kierkegaard
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Chapter 1
Dorcas Meadowes was ready to die. She knew she would die. She had to die.
"Birdie," the silky voice called out to her. She didn't hear it with her ears. Her ears only picked up the crickets and the gravel that crunched under her feet as she ran.
She was hearing him in her mind, as she had so often in childhood. His voice hadn't breached her mind's barrier in decades. She knew now that it only had because he wanted it to. He'd been a skilled Legillimens now for some time.
She only had herself to blame for that. There were enumerable transgressions she could lay at her own feet. But no time to do any of them justice.
She gripped her wand tightly as she ran.
"Expecto Patronum!" she huffed. She dare not stop to cast a spell, though her lungs protested with every breath.
The little silver bird that emitted from her wand fluttered in front of her, checked for opponents. Finding none in front of it, the nightingale flitted back to Dorcas, hovering inches in front of her.
"Phoenix," she gasped as she ran, dictating a message to the little Patronus. "Wingate's a trap. Do not send the team."
She put on a fresh burst of speed as the little bird flew off over the crumbling wall of the condemned hospital.
The wall to her right began to lean toward her, imperceptibly at first and then more noticeably as blocks of stone crashed in front of and beside her.
"Reducto!" Dorcas shouted, squeezing every ounce of air she could from her lungs to give voice to the spell. The large chunk of wall that lodged itself between her and the exit of the hospital disintegrated. The dust remaining swirled in the air and obscured her vision.
She ran headlong into an Impediment Curse. She felt her nose crunch as she smacked face first into the invisible wall.
Thrown backward to the ground, Dorcas blinked furiously to erase the stars from her vision. The wand she'd been clutching was thrown from her hand by the force of her impact with the cement foundation beneath her.
She could just reach it with her fingertips. Stretching her arm, she could feel the smooth acacia wood. She pulled it closer.
A booted foot came into view and crushed the wand and her fingers.
Dorcas cried out and cursed the boot's owner.
A tinkling laugh that contained no mirth greeted her ears. It belonged to her cousin, Gemma.
"Aw!" she said in a baby voice, crouching low over Dorcas. "Did I hurt your fingers, precious?" For effect, she ground her boot into the pebbles and dust, twisting and ripping the flesh of Dorcas's fingers. "I'm ever so sorry!"
Dorcas didn't say a word. She was working out how to get her left hand into her hip pocket to the tiny phial that she'd stashed there. Its contents were her own design. The potion she was proudest of.
Dorcas turned onto her side, disguising her movements as she reached into her pocket.
"Enough, Gemma," the silky voice commanded. Dorcas could hear it now, not in her head anymore, but as clear as if the speaker were standing mere meters from her.
Gemma stood, but never took her eyes off of Dorcas. She smiled a smile that relished Dorcas's pain.
Dorcas felt hot blood trickling from her nose. The broken fingers on her right hand protested as Gemma finally removed her foot from them.
"Leave us," he commanded. Gemma disappeared from Dorcas's view. She heard two other sets of footsteps receding into the background as well.
"Four on one?" Dorcas taunted. "Since when do you need anyone else to do your dirty work, Tom?"
"I don't need anyone. But it's nice to have friends, isn't it?" His face came into view over her as she lay on the ground. She was surprised at how altered he appeared. Every time she saw him he seemed less like himself.
Dorcas thought curiously that his appearance, his demeanor, his voice, it should unsettle her. But in this moment, the effect it had on her was of sympathy.
Of pity
Of loss.
There was nothing of her once dear friend in that face, in those eyes, in that voice.
She thought of her daughter. It used to be, looking at Ryann, she could not help but to notice the features she shared with her father. She once feared that others would note how much she resembled Tom. Now, Tom looked so far from himself that anyone could have mistaken Ryann for another man's daughter.
Tom crouched next to her, taking Gemma's place, but carefully avoiding her crushed right hand. He took it gently in his and kissed it.
"I'm sorry you're hurt, Birdie," he whispered. He removed his wand from inside of his robes and healed the bones of her broken fingers. He healed her bloodied nose.
"My entire life is an open wound that you inflicted, Tom," Dorcas said, softly, but with weight. "Let's not pretend that you have any guilt over your choices."
Something in his face changed, as if Dorcas had unmasked him somehow. The hand he'd gently kissed and then healed moments before was constricted in his grip, his nails biting into her flesh.
He stopped to consider his next move.
Straddling her and pinning her arms above her head, he bent and kissed her lips. Dorcas turned her head in the only act of defiance she had open to her.
"I could force you," he said. "What do you say? For old time's sake?"
Dorcas's voice was calmer than she felt. Knowing that this was the end had somehow liberated her from fear.
"Do what you must," she answered, the disinterest in her voice was far more emasculating than she'd thought she was capable of.
"Imperio!" Tom snarled the incantation, removing his weight from her and standing.
Dorcas was able to throw off the curse, but decided not to reveal her trump card at that moment.
"Stand," Tom commanded.
Dorcas's muscles reacted to her brain, her brain was being manipulated by a puppeteer. She did not resist the command. She reveled in the loss of control, luxuriated in it. It reminded her that they were close. Her team was so close to cracking this damned curse for good. Soon, no one would be imprisoned in their own body with someone else pulling the strings. But Dorcas was also saddened to think that she would not be around to see the solution realized.
Tom stood toe to toe with Dorcas and took her healed right hand gently in his left. His right hand slipped around her waist, he pulled her close.
"Put your arm around me, Birdie," he ordered. She complied.
He whistled a tune and they began to sway. He was dancing with her.
What was with the sentimental playacting? Why taunt her? They both knew what would happen here tonight. Why prolong it?
She knew the tune. She sang along in her head.
Stars fading, but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger 'till dawn, dear
Just saying this
"I want you to know that I'm going to find her," Tom murmured, close to her ear. "She's mine. You'll be dead. I'm the only family she'll have left."
Dorcas wanted to point out that family hadn't meant so much to him in the past.
She stayed silent.
Ryann would not be alone. She had Wren. They had each other.
Dorcas closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, cleansing breath knowing that her girls had each other and that they would be safe. Tom would never know where they had gone.
Sweet dreams 'till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worry behind you
The hand that Tom had commanded she place around his shoulder clutched the phial. With her thumb she unstoppered it.
In one quick motion she swallowed its contents.
Tom was visibly surprised by her quick motion. His red eyes became slits and then went wide, realizing that she'd duped him.
"I want you to know I did love you once," she said and kissed him.
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
A/N: Thank you for finding the summary and prologue interesting enough to get this far. The story jumps between two eras of Dorcas Clerey's life; school and adult life. The key is to pay attention to dates (1927: Dorcas's birth, 1939: Hogwarts Year 1, 1957: Dorcas's adult life). The story jumps around because in many ways, Dorcas herself does not have all of the pieces of the puzzle at one time in order to put it together properly, so as a reader, we are on that journey with her.
If you enjoy the story, please let me know. I love hearing opinions and interpretations.
