Chapter 18
2 December, 1957 Watermead, Aylesbury
Cal was steadfast and absolutely unshakeable. Dorcas wondered how his constancy always seemed to surprise her. She should know by now not to test the bounds of his love. There seemed to be no limit.
If she feared that he would see her differently after showing him the memory of the night she'd killed someone, she needn't. When she and Cal emerged from the Black Dahlia, the tune of 'I'm Nobody's Baby' an earworm stuck in their heads, he pulled her in close and wrapped her up in his arms.
"I never wanted to show you that memory," she said against his chest, guilty tears warm on her cheeks.
"You can trust me with anything," Cal said again. He'd said this to reassure her before she brought him into the memory. She'd wanted more than anything to believe that statement. But her crime was so awful that she'd doubted his words.
There was little doubt left now, after he'd seen Dorcas cast the spell that had caused the man to fall.
"I know I should have called for the police. I know it wasn't the right thing, what Tom and I did," Dorcas wanted very much for Cal to think better of her. She wanted to impress upon him that she knew how very wrong her choices had been.
"Maybe," Cal said, stroking Dorcas's hair. "I'm not sure what I would have done in the same situation. I might have done the same thing Tom did."
Dorcas was surprised again. She couldn't think of two dissimilar people in temperament and motives than Cal and Tom. But, she supposed they did have common ground at one time or another. That common ground was her.
"Really?" She pulled back from Cal's embrace to study his face.
"Yes," Cal answered. "Watching that creep put his hands on you made me want to kill him. I'm not saying that it was right. I'm just saying that I understand your motivations and I understand Tom's."
"I'm such a hypocrite," Dorcas said, swiping at her tears angrily.
"No." Cal argued, resting his hands on Dorcas's hips. "You can't honestly compare what happened with that guy in the alleyway to what Tom did to that old lady?"
"Can't I?" Dorcas wasn't following. Tom had helped her to cover her crime. She didn't show him the same loyalty.
"Dorcas." He drew his arms around her again. "The man attacked you. You defended yourself. It was an accident. Tom planned that woman's murder. They are not the same." He kissed her forehead to emphasize his point.
Dorcas felt lighter. Cal made a lot of sense. She nodded and wrapped her arms around him, hanging on like a lifeline.
"Anyway," Cal said, pulling her behind him and out of the office. "You said he's gone, right? So, you don't turn him in, you don't cover for him. He's moved on and now, so can you."
She followed Cal to their bedroom. Dorcas finally felt like she could sleep. She hadn't had a peaceful night since before Hokey's death.
:::
31 August, 1940 Blackpool Abbey, Upper Flagley, Yorkshire
Dorcas was missing her mother. She'd visited Dorcas at Blackpool Abbey yesterday. Although it was plain to her that her mother was not comfortable on the grounds of her former home, Dorcas was glad she'd come.
She brought news of home with her and some sweets from a shop that Dorcas liked to visit down the street from their flat. Dorcas had wished that Morty could have come for a visit as well. But, her mother explained, he would not tolerate the long trip and would be too unsettled to be back at Blackpool.
Mary-Ellen described a bombing close to the waterfront only a week prior to her visit. This was several blocks from their home, but it made Dorcas fear for her mother and for her uncle. They'd had to evacuate to the Underground for two hours until the air raid warnings ceased.
With a tight hug, Mary-Ellen said that she was grateful that she didn't have to worry about Dorcas being in danger.
Walking down a forested path, a handful of wildflowers clutched in her fist, Dorcas could hardly imagine the terror of bombing raids anymore. Yorkshire seemed to be as far away from the war as one might hope to be.
She thought about the time earlier in the summer when she'd sat in the Underground clutching Morty to her and holding Tom's hand. She wondered how her friend was getting on now that London was on high alert. Would the orphanage have sent the children away to the country like her mother had sent her away? Had Tom changed his cavalier attitude toward Fritz and his bombs?
Dorcas stumbled over a tree root in the well worn path. She hadn't been paying attention to where she'd been going. In truth, she didn't recognize any of the scenery around her. She'd set out only an hour ago. Maybe it was longer. She wasn't too sure. She didn't want to spend the day inside again, hiding in the library. She was too distracted by her mother's visit and the worries and questions it had raised.
A thick copse of trees with an enticing little path winding through it seemed just the thing to occupy Dorcas's limbs while her mind mused. She'd picked flowers, watched a rabbit munching on some grass, and even spied a hawk.
The sun was getting lower in the sky. Dorcas couldn't judge how late in the day it was now. She wondered how long she'd been walking and in which direction. She spun on her heel and decided to head back the way she'd come. If the dressing gong had been rung, she'd probably receive a lecture about tardiness and keeping others waiting. She remembered how stern her uncle had been with Jonas and hurried her pace.
She knew she was missed at the dinner table when Gimlet met her at the door.
"Hurry, Miss," the little creature urged her. He held the large front door open and waved her in frantically.
Even with the elf's insistence that she hurry, Dorcas could tell it was no use. The rest of the family was already seated in the dining room. She had a choice to make: rush upstairs to change rendering her unforgivably tardy, or enter the dining room in the plain cotton dress and dusty shoes she'd been wearing out of doors. She decided to risk looking offensive, rather than to keep everyone waiting.
Still clutching her bunch of wildflowers, she approached the table with trepidation. She caught her Aunt Eden's eye first. Eden gasped and looked at Dorcas like a dog covered in mud.
Seated next to her mother, Gemma turned up her nose. "You are an absolute fright, Dorcas Clerey!"
Dorcas looked over Gemma's shoulder and made a dramatic gasp. Then she sighed and placed a hand to her chest. "Sorry," she said. "I thought I saw a spider."
Gemma reacted as Dorcas knew she would. She jumped in her chair and turned, knocking over her water glass in the process.
Jonas stifled a laugh under his hand.
Dorcas's uncle was the last one to react to Dorcas. He barely looked in her direction, but addressed her anyway. "Good of you to join us, niece." He motioned to Gimlet, who followed in Dorcas's wake, to pour the wine and serve dinner.
"These are for you," Dorcas said, laying the wildflowers next to her Aunt Eden's place before taking her own seat next to Jonas.
Eden eyed the wilted bunch laying too close to her cutlery and inched them a little further away with her pinky finger. "How lovely, thank you dearest," she said, endeavoring not to sneer.
It had been her mother's suggestion to do something nice for her hostess.
When dinner was finished and the plates were being cleared, Dorcas thought no more would be said about her lack of punctuality or the appropriateness of her attire. Before she could push her chair back and ask to be excused, her uncle set down his wineglass and looked in her direction.
"Before you go up for the night, Dorcas, I would like a word in the library."
Dorcas looked at Jonas who shrugged almost imperceptibly. She caught Gemma's gloating smirk as she turned back to her uncle and nodded.
"Yes, sir."
She couldn't decide if her uncle asking for a word was more or less frightening than a teacher asking her to stay behind class. Either way, there was a lecture in store to be sure.
:::
Dorcas took a moment to say goodbye to some of the portraits in the library. She studied the face that stood sentry over her hiding place on the second-level shelves. She was unsure if she would ever see him again after tonight.
He was a tall man with an intimidating bearing. She may even have thought him handsome, if he'd not been glowering. The first few days that she'd taken up residence in the shelves he'd stood silently next to a tall black charger in armor.
She'd mistakenly thought his was the kind of painting that didn't move.
"What will you do with the knowledge you gain from all of that reading?" a solemn question had voiced itself from over her shoulder.
She'd turned, nearly jumping out of her skin at the sound when she knew no one else had been there. The horse knickered and the man in fine ermine lined cape leveled a questioning glance down at her from his lofty perch.
"Do I have to do something with it? Can't I just know it?" Dorcas had asked.
This was the first of many debates she'd had with, the plaque below his portrait proclaimed, Tytos Rackharrow, his steed Capricorn looking on with a toss of his mane every once in a while.
Tonight, Dorcas was feeling nostalgic about their first conversation.
"Tytos," she called, coming up the spiral steps. "Just wanted to say goodbye. I'm off to school tomorrow."
"And what will you do with all of the knowledge you'll gain from school, young lady?" he said, recalling their first words as well.
She shrugged. "Use it to do something good in the world."
"Admirable," he nodded, patting Capricorn's neck. "Nothing too good, I hope?"
She smiled. "I may not see you again after tonight. I had nice chats with you."
Tytos looked down at her. "I hope that is not the case. I have enjoyed our chats as well. If this is farewell, then be good. But run mad a little for balance."
Her uncle strode into the room and closed the doors behind him.
"Dorcas, come down here, please," he said.
Dorcas waved at Tytos and Capricorn and descended.
Stepping behind his large desk, her uncle motioned to a chair opposite his. "Have a seat."
Dorcas obeyed him without a word, steeling herself for a telling off. At least, she reminded herself, if he lectured her tonight, it was her last night in this old and drafty place and she'd never have to come back again. She congratulated herself for having avoided a dressing down before this.
Lysander sat and appraised her from behind his desk.
"Have you enjoyed your time here, Dorcas?"
Dorcas thought it was a curious way to begin a telling off. Maybe he was setting her up to feel bad about her ingratitude. She didn't know whether honesty or flattery was called for.
"I've missed my mother and my," here Dorcas was about to say uncle, then stopped herself. Lysander was her uncle too. But she thought of him and Morty in such different terms. "Morty," she finished flatly.
"I know," Lysander said gently. "It's a hard thing to be so far away from home. I had hoped your mother would be able to visit more often. She hasn't been allowed much time off. But I'm sure she's explained all of that to you. Did you enjoy your visit with her yesterday?"
Dorcas was confused. This may be the most her uncle has ever spoken to her. And he was being solicitous, even kind. Her impression of him was so contrary to this figure before her now.
"Yes," Dorcas said. Not wanting to say more and remind her uncle why he'd asked her here in the first place.
"Have you been treated well during your stay?" Lysander continued his interview. "Have the staff and your cousins treated you with kindness?"
Dorcas thought about Tooey. She was the kindest and funniest little house-elf that Dorcas had met. She enjoyed the moments Tooey was able to spare to play the piano with her. Gimlet, though much more reserved, was a help to Dorcas. He always pointed out when she erred with little etiquette trifles at tea time before her aunt noticed.
Jonas had become a friend.
Dorcas thought about Gemma. She'd made her disdain for Dorcas quite clear. But, as Dorcas didn't share any classes or common friends with her older cousin, her opinion of Dorcas mattered very little.
"Yes, everyone's been kind."
"I am pleased to hear it." He seemed to be weighing his next words before he proceeded. It made Dorcas nervous. She got a sense that he was trying to tread carefully.
"I spoke to your mother before she left yesterday. Circumstances seem to be getting worse in London. Most schools are being shuttered and children are being sent north to the country, like you have been. If your mother determines that it is not safe for you to return to her at Christmastime, would you like to come here?"
Dorcas was crestfallen. The thought of being away from her mother for the holiday was a gloomy prospect. On top of that, the idea that things had become so dire in London that children were being sent away indefinitely worried her. She thought about the danger that her mother and Morty must constantly live under.
"We host a rather jolly holiday party every year. We may be able to get your mother and Morty up here to stay, if your mother can get the time away. What do you say to that?"
Dorcas had the impression that her mother had coached him on how best to entice her to stay for the holiday break. Her mother must be very worried for her to come home, in that case.
"I want to be with my family at Christmas," Dorcas said, trying to keep the hopelessness out of her voice. It seemed as though her mother and uncle had already decided for her. Her agreement to the scheme didn't matter in the least. She was so distressed she hadn't caught her thoughtless slip at the phrase "my family".
Her uncle's face showed an uncharacteristic amount of understanding and sympathy. "I know, child. That may not be possible this year. We all have to bear up as best as we can in these times. But the war won't last forever."
Dorcas nodded, but didn't respond.
"You may be excused. Goodnight."
She retreated from the library thinking she'd probably have preferred a lashing for being late to dinner over being told she'd have to return here in less than four months. The only thing that cheered her was the prospect of heading off to school tomorrow morning.
Dorcas opened her bedroom door to find Jonas laying on her bed with Bing perched on his chest.
"Let me guess," he said to her as she entered and shut the door behind her. "It wasn't a telling off at all, was it?"
"I wish it had been," Dorcas said darkly, pushing his foot aside and pulling her nightgown from beneath it. She retreated behind the dressing screen in the corner and changed for bed. "He wanted to know if I'd like to stay for Christmas."
"Excellent!" Jonas said.
"I'd rather be home," Dorcas said. Tossing her plait over her shoulder and emerging from behind the screen, buttoning her nightgown.
"Yeah," Jonas answered scratching Bing's head. "But I like you being here. It's less lonely."
Dorcas felt a pity for Jonas at his admission of loneliness. She knew what loneliness could feel like, but at least in London there had been plenty to occupy her. And, even though Dorcas didn't have siblings, Morty was as close as a brother to her. He was far better company than Gemma. She'd never stopped to consider Jonas's position in his family before.
She climbed into bed next to him and stared at the ceiling.
"Is your father always hard on you?" Dorcas had wondered if the scene she'd witnessed in the library a week ago was an isolated event or a regular occurrence.
"He didn't used to be. There was a time when he'd just ignore me. But now that I'm in school he's constantly on me about my marks. Going on and on about his legacy and the family name." There was a distinct note of irritation in his voice.
"It must be hard being the heir to a place like this," Dorcas thought aloud.
Jonas exhaled. "You have no idea. Nobody ever asks me what I want. It's always about what's expected of me."
"What do you want?" Dorcas asked.
Jonas thought for a while. "I want to be a Spitfire pilot."
Dorcas looked at her cousin. "Really?" She was not expecting that answer.
"Yeah, I've read about them. Flying planes sounds exciting. Battling in the sky, but not on broomsticks or with magic, but in a machine with real guns."
Dorcas smiled. Talking with Jonas felt so similar to talking with Morty. She hadn't realized, but he'd become her greatest comfort in this formal and foreign place far from any familiarity of home.
And his enthusiasm for Muggle things reminded her endearingly of Cherry.
"What do you want?" he asked her.
Dorcas blinked up at the ceiling and thought. She recalled their ancestor, Tytos Rackharrow's words to her weeks and weeks ago. "What will you do with all of that knowledge?" Her initial impression had been that Tytos was an archetypal male from the past. Ideas in a woman's head couldn't lead to anything good. But the more she'd talked with him, she'd gained a different perspective. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge was to be discouraged. Knowledge employed in a purpose was to be encouraged. She thought about her response to him tonight when he renewed the question. "Use it to do something good in the world."
"I might like to be a doctor," Dorcas mused.
Jonas inhaled sharply. "One of those Muggle madmen who cut people open and sew them back up?"
She pictured Victor Frankenstein and laughed. "No, like a healer. But Muggle doctors don't know magic. They have to rely on science and experimentation in order to heal people."
Dorcas became excited about the prospect as she spoke aloud her aims to her cousin. "Maybe I could help a lot of people if I could merge the two, magical and Muggle healing."
"Maybe," Jonas answered, sounding skeptical.
:::
2 September, 1940 Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dorcas was pleased to be back among friends and eager to begin another year of school. Armed now with a goal for her life after school, she was most especially keen to apply herself in any and all subjects that could help her to realize her ambition for medicine.
She sat at the Ravenclaw table scanning her new schedule, making note of the classes she would share with Anneliese or Cherry. She found herself skimming to see which classes she'd share with Jonas too.
Dorcas's schedule informed her that she would share History of Magic and Potions this year with fellow second year Hufflepuffs, including Anneliese. She would be in Potions again with Cherry as well as History of Magic. And her Charms and Transfiguration classes would be shared with Jonas and the other second year Slytherins. Dorcas thought this last bit of scheduling was a stroke of good luck as these were the classes that Jonas struggled with the most.
She intended to help him keep his agreement with his father to make better marks this year. She resolved to drag him along to the library with her at least once a week.
Dorcas was nodding but only half listening to June Riley's recounting of her two-week holiday to Majorca, looking away from her schedule long enough to make eye contact and smile at her roommate.
Astronomy would have one class at midnight on Fridays. Dorcas was already strategizing how she would stay awake in order to follow the lesson that late at night. Only, as she thought about it, she realized she'd been preparing for this all last year, she supposed, sneaking out at all hours of the night with Tom.
Thinking about their midnight wanderings, Dorcas's eyes instinctively found him over June's shoulder sitting at the next table with his housemates. He was politely listening to her cousin Gemma while he looked over his own schedule. Dorcas recalled her cousin's shrieks of terror, ringing clear as a bell, on the night she'd summoned every spider at Blackpool Abbey to Gemma's bed.
"Dorcas," June said waving a hand in front of Dorcas's face. "Are you listening to me?"
Dorcas shook her head a little and let the memory of her cousin's screams fade. She hadn't realized she was smiling at the pleasant memory.
"Yes, I'm listening," Dorcas answered, giving her roommate renewed attention.
"Are you? Because I am showing you a scar from where a fire crab burned me and you're smiling like a maniac."
Dorcas wiped the smile from her face. "I'm sorry, I was remembering something funny." She finished with a note of (hopefully) convincing sympathy. "That must have been painful."
Owls began to swoop low over the tables, depositing the days post and a fair amount of feathers. Their entrance spared Dorcas from further feigning interest in June's trip or her apparently near death encounter with a fire crab.
Dorcas was surprised that two of the letters carried in by the owls were addressed to her.
One was from her mum. Dorcas smiled. Her mum probably wrote it just after she'd visited Blackpool. It had only been three days since she'd seen her. But she missed her.
The other envelope surprised Dorcas and she ripped it open immediately, eager to get at its contents. It was from Harriet Finnigan, the author of the Wingate book that had fanned Dorcas's curiosity about what had happened to her uncle Morty there over twelve years ago.
She scanned the letter quickly and then read it again more carefully.
Miss Clerey,
I am astonished that you came across my little bit of writing. Not many copies of it exist. I had to overcome quite a few hurdles in publishing that work. Under strict instructions from the publishing house (who were under strict instructions themselves from authorities unknown) I was prevented from mentioning the specific incantations used in treatments at Wingate Institution. I am intrigued by your personal connection to that infamous place and would like to know more. However, I prefer not to discuss the particulars of my investigations over owl correspondence.
I wonder if you are free to meet in person? I would be ever so delighted to speak to another inquisitive mind on the topic at length. I will be in London until the end of September. I am a journalist and will be taking an assignment on the continent for several months. I most sincerely hope to hear from you before quitting the country.
Warm regards,
H. Finnigan
Dorcas's mind began to work out how she could get to London and meet with the woman in person. But she couldn't think of any practical solution to the insurmountable problem of geography. She was here at school and Ms. Finnigan would be leaving in a month for the continent. She thought about the kind of exciting life a journalist must live. What stories she must be seeking out in occupied France or Belgium? Or maybe she would be traveling to Franco's Spain or Stalin's Soviet States.
Dorcas shoved the note into her pocket along with her unopened letter from her mother. She walked with June and Zelda to Defense Against the Dark Arts trying to compose her response to Ms. Finnigan in her mind.
:::
6 September, 1940 Greenhouse 5, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dorcas tried to follow Zelda and June's conversation as they exited the greenhouse after a double Herbology lesson. They were debating their chances at gaining the vacant Chaser position on the Ravenclaw team. Dorcas was mildly interested in Quidditch. She enjoyed being a spectator, though she didn't support any British League teams. She felt inept at holding a conversation with a true fan, but knew enough to muddle along in near silence.
"What do you think, Dorcas?" Zelda asked, turning to her as they followed the gravel path up to the school. "Is being a good Chaser more about speed or accuracy?"
Dorcas thought about this question for a moment. She really didn't feel that she knew enough to contribute in any meaningful way. She figured a Chaser needed a fair amount of both. She thought about her friends' abilities. June was a very precise flyer and demonstrated quick reflexes. Zelda, on the other hand, had been the fastest flyer of the first years during flying lessons last year.
The thought of flying lessons made her shudder inwardly. That was a memory she would dearly like to forget. She never thought of herself as being afraid of heights before the lessons. But her inaugural flight on broomstick had proved that beyond any doubt.
She supposed she should not answer truthfully that if they could combine their skills, they would make one fine Chaser. As they could not. They would probably be passed over for an older student.
A thought came to Dorcas's mind that was not her own. She was unsure of the owner of the vision. It was someone close to the edge of the forest. She saw a scenario play out in her mind's eye in which he, for she knew it was a boy's thoughts she was experiencing, wanted to lure someone beyond the trees. Other boys were waiting just far enough into the Forbidden Forest not to be spied by others who may be on the grounds. She saw the target of the plan: it was the new boy, the overlarge one that had sat on the train by himself.
The sight of him in the unknown bully's mind made Dorcas feel a stab of conviction for her own choices on the day they'd boarded the train back to school. Even though she'd known what it felt like, albeit briefly, to sit by herself and to think that not a single soul would take notice of her or talk to her, she'd seen him sitting in an otherwise deserted compartment and passed him by in search of her group of friends.
She remembered how he looked, his wiry black hair stuck out at odd angles. He was quite a bit larger than the other students at school. He was far bigger even than Oliver Knott, one of the Slytherin Beaters. He was an absolute ogre of a boy. But the first year who sat alone on the train outweighed him, Dorcas was sure of it.
Dorcas saw the boy who was to be the victim of the ambush coming around the side of the paddock where he'd been feeding two mooncalves. Thinking on her feet she decided to call out to him and distract him before the boys had a chance to carry out their attack.
Oh, what was his name? She'd tried to think back to the Sorting Ceremony from almost a week ago now. She hadn't really been paying attention as she was excited to be back among her fellow Ravenclaw students. She could remember that she and Glynnis Howard had been chatting about spells they'd dared to try out over the summer despite the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. But then, her conversation had tapered out as the hall grew silent. When the enormous boy's name had been called, he timidly inched forward while Professor Maynard patiently held the Sorting Hat above the stool awaiting his approach.
Dorcas scrunched her eyes closed, trying to remember the name in Professor Maynard's voice just before the hall got quiet. "Rubeus Hagrid," she heard in the Charms Professor's ringing trill.
When the hat announced that he would be joining Gryffindor House, the students at the far table erupted. Darren Barton was heard shouting a welcome to Gryffindor's new Quidditch Keeper, patting the current Keeper, Cal Meadowes on the back.
"Dorcas," June said, waving her hands frantically in front of Dorcas's face as Zelda looked on with concern.
Dorcas snapped back to the present.
"Where do you go when you check out like that?" June asked in astonishment.
"Sorry," Dorcas apologized for letting her mind wander. "You two go on ahead. I think I left something in Greenhouse 5."
"Are you sure?" Zelda asked. "We could come with you."
"No," Dorcas said, turning back toward the greenhouse. "Just save me a seat at lunch. I won't be long."
She raced back the way they'd just come, but veered away from the greenhouses and toward the paddock as her friends disappeared inside of the castle.
"Rubeus," she called, hoping she'd gotten the name right.
The boy looked up, confusion on his face. He wasn't watching where he was putting his hand and the mooncalf he was feeding tore his sleeve rather than the chard he'd been trying to give it.
"Yeah?" the first year watched her approach warily. "I wasn't doin' nothin' ter him. I was jus' feedin' him and talkin' ter him a bit."
Dorcas realized that he took her shouting to mean he was in trouble. She was struck by how timid he seemed despite his size. A perfect target for the goons hiding just beyond the tree line.
"No, you're not in trouble. Besides, I have no authority to yell at you. I just think you should come with me up to the castle. It's lunchtime."
She knew this was a lame excuse to get him away from the boys who were probably in earshot of them right now. She cast about for the mind of the boy whose thoughts had invaded her own moments ago. She found the thread of the boy's consciousness and saw herself reflected there and irritation at her appearance.
"Nah," Rubeus said, looking at his feet. "I don' wan' ter go up there. Everyone jus' wants ter stare and talk 'bout me like I'm not there."
"I'm not talking about you like you're not here. I'm talking directly to you."
He didn't argue, he just continued to pull pieces of chard from a stalk in one hand and feeding them to the mooncalves, who stared back with goggled eyes that shimmered in appreciation.
"My name's Dorcas," she said, shifting her bag so that she could offer him her hand.
When he took it to shake, half of her forearm disappeared in his fist along with her hand. But he was careful not to shake too hard, she could see how aware he was of his size and his strength. All the same, she stumbled forward a little when her hand was shaken.
"Rubeus," he said. "But yeh knew tha' already."
She nodded and motioned for him to follow her up the path. When she was certain they'd left the gang of bullies behind in the forest, she explained.
"I heard some boys talking about how they were going to get you to go into the forest and then hurt you. That's why I wanted to get you to come up to the castle with me."
"Oh," Rubeus said, deliberately walking slowly to keep pace with Dorcas. "Well, I'm not afraid o' a few classmates. They probably can' do much ter me." He gestured to himself by way of explanation. Dorcas supposed he was probably right. But she didn't think that was a good enough reason to leave him on his own to be lured into a trap.
"I know you're not afraid. You were sorted into Gryffindor, after all," Dorcas said, smiling up at Rubues. "If you don't want to eat lunch in the Great Hall with everyone, I'll go and nick us some sandwiches and we can eat out here on the lawn. How does that sound?"
Rubeus looked thunderstruck. He stopped walking.
Dorcas wondered what she'd said, if she'd offended him in some way.
"Yeh want ter eat lunch with me?" he said, a hitch in his voice.
Dorcas laughed at the incongruity of this sight. Rubeus was large and lumbering, but also clearly sensitive.
"Of course I do," she said. "Wait right here. I'll be back with some food."
:::
23 December, 1957 Watermead, Aylesbury
Trying not to let the garden gate squeak too loudly, Dorcas opened it slowly. She handed her house key to Ryann so that she could run ahead and unlock the front door. Cal trailed the party with Wren asleep in his arms, her blond head lolling against his shoulder.
They'd spent a lovely evening at the circus. As Dorcas and Cal sat watching the acrobats with the girls between them, their hands finding one another's across the backs of the seats, Dorcas had a sense that everything was as it should be. She finally felt as if the business with Hepzibah Smith and Hokey the house-elf was in the past where it should be. Tom was gone for good. Dumbledore need not request anything else from her. She could move forward with her family and her career in peace.
As one act cleared the rings to make way for another act, Dorcas was reminded briefly of another circus she'd attended when she was a girl. It was on one outing to Hogsmeade in the spring. Rubeus, being particularly fond of animals, could talk of nothing else but the variety he'd hoped to see there. It was a magical circus, unlike the Muggle one that Dorcas and her family attended now.
There were some of the same types of spectacles and exploitations. But the creatures and performers were magical. This lent them an added air of mystery, Dorcas thought. She remembered how Rubeus's demeanor changed completely when he'd been confronted with the reality of the magical creatures lives, instead of the fantasy he'd imagined. He practically tore the bars off of a Kappa's cage before being thrown out of the circus altogether.
Somewhere between that altercation at the Kappa display and his walk back to school, Rubeus had procured an Acromantula egg.
Dorcas shook the remembrance from her mind. This was not a magical circus. Elephants did balancing acts, lions jumped through hoops. No one would be traveling home with a magical deadly spider's egg in their pocket.
She looked to Ryann, happy that her daughter was home. Even if it was just for two weeks at Christmastime, it made her family feel complete once more to have her children with her and Cal. She realized that in six short years, Wren would be at Hogwarts too. They would have an empty house. Dorcas felt funny about that notion. What would she and Cal be like together if they were not looking after children? Most couples have a small amount of time to acclimate to life together before a child comes. She and Cal had a mere three months alone together before Ryann was born.
Dorcas thought back to the beginning of her marriage to Cal. There was no getting to know one another. Dorcas knew that the blame rested entirely with her. Cal had a seemingly endless supply of forbearance when it came to her, she knew. But, she also knew that she tested the limits of his love and patience every day of those first few months.
Looking at her husband now, as he carried their youngest to her bed, she wondered if she was done with that chapter of her life yet? Did she see herself as the mother of two daughters, one of whom was already off to school with the second soon to follow? Or did she desire to have another baby in the house?
Cal, she knew, had always longed for a son. A small smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she thought about a child of hers that was the image of her husband. Would he be a little Gryffindor Quidditch player? Would he be a bookish Ravenclaw like his older sister? She daydreamed of the possibility.
Why hadn't they discussed another child? Two was never a number they'd agreed on.
Cal tucked Wren into bed as Dorcas turned down Ryann's covers and opened the enchanted Thousand and One Nights that sprouted a tree with little singing goldfinches.
Ryann came into the room she shared with Wren now that Theresa and her son were staying. In her nightdress and sock feet, she padded over to Cal and kissed his cheek. Then she crawled into bed. Dorcas sat beside her as Cal settled in beside Wren's tiny sleeping form.
"I'm so glad you're home, my love," Dorcas said, kissing the forehead of her oldest daughter.
"Me too," Ryann agreed. "I love school. But I've missed you two."
"We've missed you too, angel," Cal whispered, stroking Wren's curls.
"What's been your favorite part about school so far?" Dorcas asked. In Ryann's letters, her interests and likes and dislikes seemed to change moment to moment.
"Quidditch matches," Ryann answered instantly.
Dorcas shared a look with Cal. He beamed with pride.
"Daddy's girl," Cal laughed softly.
"What about classes and teachers? Do you have favorites?" Dorcas steered the conversation into more comfortable territory.
Ryann thought for a moment. "Professor McGonnagal. I like her and I like her class."
Dorcas answered Cal's curious look. "She's Professor Dumbledore's replacement. I met her when I was up at the school a few weeks back." Turning to Ryann she said, "I like her too."
Dorcas and Cal bid their children goodnight and closed the bedroom door.
Howdy Doody was restless in his cage in the dining room so she let him out through the kitchen window. The air was bracing as it gusted through the opening. Dorcas shuttered it tightly once again after the bird had flown.
Closing the bedroom door behind her, she walked across to the closet to kick off her heels. She removed her earrings as she watched Cal unbutton his shirt. She wondered why she felt nervous to begin the conversation that she'd wanted to have with him.
They shared nearly everything. It wasn't possible that he would ignore her or brush her request to the side. But she was afraid of rejection. After more than a decade married she still didn't feel as if she deserved him. That was really what lay at the center of her anxiety. That she never felt as if she truly deserved to be with him. That one day he would come to his senses and realize that he was entitled to better.
He cast his shirt aside and caught her eye as she stared back biting her lip.
"I can tell you're having some internal debate, Clerey," he said, patiently. "Am I allowed in on the secret?"
She turned to her vanity and deposited the earrings in a jewelry case. She struggled with the clasp of her necklace for a moment, stalling in order to decide how to bring up the subject of another child. She felt his hands on the back of her neck, taking over with the clasp. His lips replaced the necklace, which he tossed atop the vanity dismissively.
She felt her heart increase its beating as he tugged the zipper of her dress down, sliding it from her shoulders.
"Let's have another baby," she blurted, turning around to meet his stunned eyes.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, surprised.
Dorcas felt her heart sink in sudden disappointment. This was what she was afraid of. Wren had been unplanned. They'd never discussed what they wanted. In the case of both of their daughters they'd simply reacted to what had happened and made adjustments to their lives accordingly. She'd almost convinced herself that Cal would be enthusiastic in his approval of another child. This was a different reaction.
She self consciously slid her hands from his bare chest to cross her arms over her half-naked torso.
"I think so," she said, but she sounded less confident than she'd meant to. "But it's fine if you don't."
"No," Cal said, hastily reaching for her to pull her in close. "I do. I really do. But have you thought about your work at the hospital and your practice?"
Dorcas hadn't thought about either one. "No," she answered honestly. "But I still want another baby."
Cal didn't say anything to that. He was distant for a moment, thinking. Dorcas didn't have to ask what it was that occupied his thoughts. He was worried. If Dorcas was truthful with herself, there was a little hesitation in the back of her own mind as well. Dorcas had challenges with carrying and delivering both of her daughters. It felt a little like tempting fate to try for a third child.
"Cal, please," Dorcas pleaded.
Her husband looked for a moment like he wanted to argue. Then Cal smiled. "Well, we're not going to get a baby by standing here and talking about it," he said. Then he kissed her. The kiss was deep and passionate. Dorcas's knees trembled, nearly buckled. It was fortunate then that he was pulling her toward the bed because she felt as if she could no longer support her own weight.
:::
7 September, 1940 Library, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dorcas had used Cherry as bait. It was a shameless ploy, really. She'd tried for a week to lure Jonas into the library to study. Every time she'd gotten within spitting distance of the library's doors with Jonas, he'd made some excuse as to why he didn't have the time to spend with Dorcas pouring over Charms or Transfiguration notes.
On Friday they'd had a free period between Charms and dinner. Dorcas was determined not to waste this valuable study break. She'd left Charms with Jonas, casting about for a plan to get him to come with her and knock out a bit of homework. She'd considered threats or a guilt trip. But then her redhead friend came up to her chattering about plans she'd had to go flying with Darren after Gryffindor were done with Quidditch practice.
Flying. That was it!
"Cherry," Dorcas interrupted. "Have you met my cousin Jonas?"
"Hi Jonas," Cherry said with a smile and a wave. "We have Herbology together."
"Jonas shared something with me that I think you'll find very interesting," Dorcas said, heading down the corridor and subtly turning in the direction of the library.
Cherry's eyebrows raised with interest.
Dorcas looked to Jonas, encouraging him to take over the conversation. "About what you want to do when you leave school?" She prompted him with a nudge of her elbow.
Jonas seemed to have forgotten that he was capable of speech. Dorcas took over with an impatient huff.
"He is interested in becoming a pilot."
Dorcas didn't have to say anything more.
Cherry cut in front of her, taking Jonas's arm and leading him forward while rhapsodizing the invention of the plane.
Dorcas walked behind like a third wheel wondering if her plan had been too effective. Cherry, after all, was less inclined to step through the library doors than Jonas was.
"Wilver and Orbur White were the American chaps whose tinkering made the thing fly," she said with an excited giggle.
Jonas looked entranced and terrified at the same time.
Dorcas hastened to one side or another to steer the pair in the direction she chose like a prize sheepdog.
"And radar," Jonas explained in answer to a question that Dorcas hadn't heard. "Is how the pilots can tell when enemy aircraft are approaching. It works somewhat like a Trace Detection Charm, only it uses radio waves."
At Cherry's confused pout, Jonas clarified. "Waves of vibration that are undetectable without equipment."
Rather pleased with herself, but also feeling a little like a puppet master, Dorcas reminded Cherry that someone was waiting for her on the Quidditch pitch.
Cherry scanned the library, looking unsure of how she'd gotten there and fluffed her curls a little nervously. "My! But I can get carried away with the chatter sometimes."
Jonas smiled faintly as she waved goodbye and rushed out of the library. He realized that he was good and trapped. "That was diabolical, Dorcas."
"Sit," she answered cheerily. "Let's work on Professor Maynard's essay that's due on Monday."
:::
After an hour with Jonas, Dorcas was pleased with the work he'd produced on Summoning Charms. His conclusion was weak, but overall the effort should earn him good marks.
"This is a job well done, Jonas," she was saying.
He beamed at her praise.
She was about to suggest they go over her Transfiguration notes, but wondered if that would be pushing her luck. Maybe she should end on a high note.
"Hey, Birdie," Tom said, taking his usual study spot beside Dorcas.
At her right elbow, Jonas began to hurriedly pack his belongings, taking the essay back from Dorcas.
"Thank Mab!" he said. "A distraction." He threw his bag over his arm and tossed a goodbye over his shoulder at Dorcas as he left.
"Hi, Tom," Dorcas said, deflating a little as her quarry left. And she'd been so clever getting him there in the first place.
She pulled out Harriet Finnigan's letter as a break from homework. She scanned it once more. The edges were starting to curl from the constant folding and unfolding. She hadn't replied.
"What's that?" Tom said, nodding to the paper she held.
"A letter from the lady who wrote the book about Wingate Institution," Dorcas said, glumly.
"Bad news?" Tom asked.
Dorcas stared at her words on the page. I wonder if you are free to meet in person?
"Well," Dorcas said. "A little. She wants to say more about the hospital but doesn't want to say it in writing. She wants to meet."
"So, are you going to go?"
"She wants to meet in London," Dorcas added.
Tom raised his eyebrows as if it didn't change the context of his question.
"I'm here. That's far away from London, Tom."
He nodded. "Well, spotted. Nothing gets past you, Birdie."
She smiled humorlessly.
"Write her back and tell her you'll meet her next Saturday." Tom made it sound so simple.
"What?" she asked, furrowing her brow. She didn't like the cavalier tone he was using. He may have no connection to or interest in the hospital that destroyed her uncle's life. But it was not a joke to her.
"You can get to London and meet her. I will take you there myself," Tom said, smiling reassuringly.
Dorcas blinked and waited for more of a plan.
"Are you going to explain yourself?" Dorcas asked impatiently.
"No," Tom said, turning to his homework. "Write your letter, Birdie, and leave the rest to me."
A/N: Reviews are welcome and appreciated.
