Author's Note: Happy Independence Day to my fellow American readers! Sorry for posting a day late. This weekend really got away from me. Please leave a review if you feel inclined. I love to read them! Enjoy and sparkle on!

Chapter 60

6 March, 1959 14 South Audley Street, Mayfair, London

"The Minister of Magic is Dead."

Cal held the front page of the Prophet up for her to read the headline herself.

"How can that be?" Dorcas said, standing and snatching the newspaper from her husband's hand.

Wilhelmina Tuft, 26th Minister for Magic, Dead at 48

The picture of the Minster was one that had been taken with her son recently at a charity auction. She looked similar to how Dorcas remembered her from Cherry and Jonas's wedding only weeks ago.

"It says she was poisoned," Dorcas muttered as her eyes scanned the article.

"Alihotsy leaves," Cal supplied. "Apparently she was allergic."

"Does the Ministry know for certain it was a poisoning? Or was it accidental?"

Cal shrugged and lifted his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing the muscles there.

Dorcas's eyes dropped to the photo once more. Ignatius Tuft, her son was glancing at his mother and smiling proudly. Dorcas thought he was a bit of a knob when she'd met him at the wedding, but she felt sorry for him now. She knew what it felt like to lose her mother suddenly and without warning.

She read the article to the end, lingering on the terrible closing line, reciting the words in a horrified monotone. "She died laughing. A better ending than most could hope for."

"Awful joke!" Cal agreed.

Alihotsy, or Hyena Leaf, was the main ingredient for the Laughing Potion. Dorcas could imagine the eerie scene of the Minister's death, laughing uncontrollably while her constricted passageways strangled the life out of her.

"You're dressed up," Cal observed.

Dorcas lowered the paper and met his gaze.

"Where'd you go?"

There was no accusation in the question, just curiosity. But even his curiosity set her on edge.

"The warden didn't tell you?"

The corner of his mouth raised at her name calling. "I haven't spoken to Mrs. Frost, no."

Dorcas lifted the key to the bank vault box from the pocket of her skirt. "Down to the financial district, near Saint Paul's. Turns out I have a safe deposit box in my name that I never knew about."

Cal shook his head in confusion, taking the key. "Something your mother set up? Or your uncle?"

"Neither," Dorcas said, slipping her hands into her pockets. "It once belonged to Tom's grandmother."

Cal straightened and his expression became grave. "Tom's grandmother...I don't understand."

Dorcas shrugged. "Neither do I, really."

"What–" Cal began, swallowing as if to remove a lump in his throat. Dorcas watched his Adam's apple bob nervously. "What was in it?"

Dorcas waved at the stack of envelopes, the stack of banknotes, and the ring box.

Cal sat down in the chair opposite her across the coffee table as she took her seat on the couch once more. He dropped the key beside the ring box and placed his index finger on the velvet top of the case, sliding the box toward him. He paused.

His cool blue eyes flicked up to meet hers.

"May I?"

She nodded, feeling her eyes become glassy with tears. She couldn't explain why she was tearing up as Cal opened the little box.

"Was Tom going to give this to you?"

She could see the emotion behind Cal's eyes, though he was trying to conceal it.

"No. Tom never wanted to marry me. He made that abundantly clear." Dorcas flicked a finger across her lower lashes, wiping away the moisture that had collected there.

Cal swallowed again, seeming to choke back something he wanted to say, but chose not to.

She could guess what he'd wanted to ask without looking into his mind for confirmation. "But you wanted to marry him, didn't you?" If she had to answer that honestly, the answer would be yes.

"It was his brother's ring, Jack Hardin's," Dorcas answered, looking away. She reached for the stack of envelopes, searching for one letter in particular. When she found it and opened it, scanning to make sure it was the right one, she handed it to Cal.

She'd read this one along with all of the others only an hour ago.

It said:

To My Darling Dorcas (one day I'll be able to write To My Darling Wife),

The two enchanting days we spent together have changed my life completely. Once I only dreamed of getting as far away from that little hamlet as I could. I was resentful of the people who tethered me to that place. Now, my dream is different. I know now that I could be happy to live in that little cottage by the pond for the rest of my life with you beside me.

How my heart soared when you agreed to marry me! If only I hadn't been a complete idiot and forgotten to fetch the ring from London. But you're mine body and soul, and I am yours. The ring is just a formality, that's what you said. It's not much. Just a trinket that my mother inherited from her mother. But it's yours now. I hope you'll be proud to wear it.

I curse the conflict that keeps us apart. I curse anyone who keeps us apart. But you reminded me that wars cannot go on forever. And you promised you'd wait for me. Promise me again! Promise me a thousand times that you'll wait for me, my love!

End my torment and write to me soon!

All my love is yours,

Jack (soon to be your devoted husband)

There was a long silence that stretched between her and Cal as he read the letter. He must have read it three times at least before finally speaking.

"I never knew, Dorcas...I never knew you loved this boy."

Dorcas crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt down. "I didn't know it myself, Cal."

Cal's eyes darted from the letter in one hand to the ring in the other, then to her and elsewhere in her office, seemingly unable to rest on one spot for long.

Dorcas looked at her hands folded in her lap, her large and expensive engagement ring and wedding band glared up at her from her left hand. Neither adornment was flashy or gaudy, Cal had too much sense for what Dorcas preferred. But he had also been making the point to her that she was precious when he picked out the stunning pieces.

From the letters she'd read between her and Jack, she knew she was no less precious to him. His mother's ring, passed down from her mother, was the finest thing he owned. And he'd given it to her.

She placed her right hand over her left. The peridot and topaz rings Cal had given her for each of his daughters reminded her that she shared so much more than letters with Cal.

"How is that possible?" Cal whispered.

Dorcas looked up and into his eyes once again. "I don't know. Tom was always very jealous of Jack. Ever since he met him. Jack had a relationship with Tom's father and grandparents. Tom didn't have that. Jack had a sibling he cared for and Tom didn't. I can imagine that if Tom found out that I cared for Jack, he would do what he could to sever that connection."

"But he died, didn't he?"

"Yes. In Egypt in 1942." Dorcas reached for the stack of letters again, finding the last one in the pile. The last letter between her and her first love. She handed it to Cal and took back the letter he'd just read.

She carefully folded and replaced the letter, as if this was part of an important and carefully curated collection in a museum. She waited for Cal to finish reading. She handed him a photograph of Jack Hardin, worn around the edges as if it had been handled often. He was handsome in his uniform.

"So Tom erased Jack after he died?"

Erased.

That was an appropriate term. Jack seems to have been carefully and painstakingly deleted from her mind.

"It seems so."

The thought of Tom removing bits of her memory had unsettled her since the moment she'd become aware of his having done it. She hated that he'd manipulated her so completely.

With this revelation about Jack, it seems that he was able to manipulate much more than the series of events that was her past. He was able to manipulate her heart as well. It had become clear to her as she read her impassioned words to Jack and his to her, that her love for him was soul deep. And now, she felt nothing for him. It was so much worse than any violation of her body.

Tom had managed to transfer the feelings that she felt for Jack to himself.

Her heart was constricted with guilt. How could she let Tom take him away from her?

Who was left to mourn Jack Hardin after she'd forgotten him?

And you promised you'd wait for me. Promise me again! Promise me a thousand times that you'll wait for me, my love!

"We'll figure this out, my love," Cal was clasping her hands in his from across the table, the letter forgotten on top of the other items from the bank's vault.

Dorcas hadn't realized that she'd stood and was sobbing.

"I need to lie down. I feel a bit dizzy, Cal," Dorcas managed to say through her tears.

She wanted to retreat from him and hide herself in a dark room, but she didn't think she could manage to make it up two flights of stairs and to her room on her own.

Stepping numbly, one foot after the other, Dorcas allowed Cal to support her most of the way to their bedroom.

She barely registered that he'd slipped her shoes off her feet or covered her in a blanket. When the room was dark, she finally closed her eyes, but there was no rest. No peace.

:::

10 March, 1942 Secret Room, Seventh Floor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The small and silent space was a welcome sight to Dorcas as she pushed open the door to the secret room. Her quaint sitting room materialized once again in Tom's absence.

This was the first time she'd even attempted to return to the little reading nook that she loved since Tom had called her a tease and a whore.

Jack's letter seemed to vibrate in her pocket and she was anxious to curl up on the cozy sofa and rip the envelope open.

Her nervous energy seemed to multiply as her eyes scanned the page and gave her more information about how she might help his sick Aunt Penny. Another unsanctioned trip away from Hogwarts was just what she needed to keep her mind off of Tom and the increasing circle of influence he seemed to be cultivating around himself.

Dorcas, my angel,

You are sweet to think of visiting my aunt, though I seem to recall she intimidated you the last time you met. Much has happened since that dreadful party you hired on to serve at. My aunt has had an absolute wagon load of letters from me, all about you. She's mentioned several times that she wants to meet the girl who has captivated me so completely. Though I reminded her that you spent the evening in and out of her kitchen carrying a tray of champagne, she teases that she doesn't remember a girl, only a mouse in an apron.

Dorcas's eyes went wide at her failure to make a good impression on Jack's aunt.

That makes your offer all the more touching, visiting my poor aunt when I cannot be by her side even though she scares you. I want to make very clear to you that I don't expect anything from you. Please don't go out of your way to try and fix what ails her. My grandmother assures me that the doctor has her care well in hand. He expects her to be fighting fit in another week or two.

Speaking of my grandmother, I've written to her to expect your visit. If I could impose one request upon your kindheartedness, I would ask that you relay an honest report of my aunt's condition to me once you've visited. I know my grandmother means well, but I suspect that she's holding back the truth of the situation in order to spare me from worry. What she doesn't understand is that I worry already for my aunt and for her. I know she's taken on most of the burden of care herself and she's not a young woman anymore.

You visiting my aunt means more to me than you'll ever know.

I love you. Please write to me with news when you can.

All my love,

Jack

Dorcas read the letter twice before reaching for her school bag for quill, parchment, and ink. She wrote a reply to assure Jack that it was no trouble at all to visit his aunt. His family would one day be hers and her family would be his. It was a blessing to be able to help him in whatever way she could. She promised to give him an accurate accounting of his aunt's condition.

She signed it with love and sealed the envelope.

"Bugger!" she hissed as she finished addressing it to Jack in Egypt. She'd completely forgotten that the day she'd planned on visiting Jack's aunt was the same day she'd agreed to go into Hogsmeade with Mohit Singh.

Grinding her teeth with annoyance, Dorcas debated tearing open the envelope and amending the letter with a different date for her visit. But why should Jack's sickly aunt not have the priority of her time? Jack had never been anything but sweet and lovely to her. She needed to do this kindness for him. Mohit on the other hand was a blackmailing turd who was forcing her into spending time with him.

She shoved the envelope into her pocket, unopened, and made the decision to reschedule the date from hell with Mohit.

The opportunity presented itself when she stepped through the door into Ravenclaw Tower after sending off her reply to Jack. It had been sleeting by the time she'd returned from the Owlery and a hot shower was calling her name.

But Mohit was sitting with his friends in front of the fire in the common room and Dorcas wanted to get this over with.

Mohit grinned as he watched her approach.

Dorcas unfastened her cloak and pulled her sodden scarf from around her neck.

"Sit here next to me and warm up, babe," he called.

She couldn't help but cringe in response as he pushed Phillip Ransom off the sofa to make room for her.

"No, thanks. And it's Dorcas, not babe."

Phillip smacked Mohit's arm while Tiberius Quirke laughed at his attempt at establishing a pet name for her.

"Dorcas, then," Mohit conceded, though Dorcas doubted the correction would stick.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked in the sweetest and most patient voice she could muster.

Mohit seemed to take this request as a positive sign that she was warming to him and hopped up eagerly. "Sure, b–Dorcas," he corrected himself beneath her severe glare.

"Save my seat, fellas?" Mohit asked, before following Dorcas across the common room.

Tiberius winked.

"Sure, babe–I mean, Mohit," Phillip teased.

"Does Phillip often struggle with remembering only to use your bedroom name in the bedroom?"

Mohit rolled his eyes, but grinned at the joke. "Ha, ha! Very funny!"

"Seriously though, about the pet names. I didn't agree to that! We're not dating!"

The corner of Mohit's mouth raised in a lopsided laugh. "You agreed to a date. We're dating."

How had she ever imagined that this boy was handsome? Blood loss must really affect perception. That, or the fact that he was blackmailing her into a date was what made him less attractive.

"About that…" began Dorcas. "Saturday's not good for me. I have–"

"You're not canceling on me, b–Dorcas! It's all planned."

"I have a sick relative–"

"A sick relative! Good one!"

She really didn't like the way he talked over her while she was speaking.

"I really do have–"

"No way, Dorcas! You agreed to Saturday. It's going to be great. You'll have such a good time with me. You'll see, b–"

Dorcas smacked his arm as he began to call her babe once again.

"I will break you of that habit you seemed to have developed out of bloody nowhere, or I'll break you. Your choice, Singh!"

The excitement that the threat elicited in Mohit was plain on his face and in his mind. Eww!

"Let's save the kinky stuff for the second date, babe."

Christ! This was going in circles.

"How does next Saturday work? We could have a nice quiet game of chess here in the common room, sit next to each other in the Great Hall for dinner…"

She tried to make it sound appealing, but it sounded like a real shit time. He'd never go for it.

To her surprise, Mohit appeared to be considering this option. She became hopeful.

"Would you consider strip chess?"

She was so caught off guard by the request that her foot shot out and collided with his shin before she could collect herself.

"Bloody hell, Dorcas!" he cried, bending to rub his leg.

"No, Mohit. I will not consider strip chess. Will you consider being less of a wanker?"

Mohit snorted. "No. It's Hogsmeade this Saturday. Or I tell Professor Slughorn that the fainting fest was all intentional."

Dorcas bit the inside of her cheek and resisted vomiting curse words at him. Instead, she stomped off toward the stairs like a child.

"My favorite color is green, beautiful. In case you're still trying to decide what to wear," Mohit called after her.

Still biting down hard, Dorcas held a rude gesture aloft for Mohit's benefit while his friends laughed and jibed him for pissing his girl off.

His girl!

She wanted to tell them all to get fucked!

:::

13 March, 1942 Third Year Girls' Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower, Seventh Floor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Do you have anything green, Cherry?" Dorcas asked, rummaging through her friend's trunk at the end of her bed.

There was a snort from somewhere behind her.

"Do I have green? You're talking to a redhead. Of course I do!" Cherry nudged her to the side and summoned a silky green dress that was appropriate for summer months, not March. "What about this?"

Dorcas turned to her friend, admiring the emerald green silk of the tea dress.

"That's lovely, Cherry!" Anneliese cooed from Cherry's bed. "That color will be stunning on you, Dorcas!"

Dorcas chewed her lip. "Stunning is not really what I'm going for here, Anneliese."

Anneliese scrunched her nose up at her friend. "I don't get it. Mohit Singh is a perfectly nice boy. Why don't you want to look your best, again?"

Huffing in annoyance at having to explain the objective to Anneliese for the third time, Dorcas launched into the premise once again. "He's not lovely, Anneliese. He's a prick who–"

Anneliese cut her off. "If he's a prick," she paused and dropped her voice to a whisper on the word prick, "then why did you agree to go on a date with him?"

"He's got something on me that he's using to blackmail me into it, Anne."

Anneliese blinked and shook her head. "But I heard he was so nice, escorting you to the hospital wing when you cut your hand and–"

Cherry cut Anneliese off. "Doing something nice while being a prick is even prickier, Anneliese!"

"Exactly!" Dorcas cried, digging through her friend's things again, pulling out a pair of olive and brown checked wool trousers and a sort of kelly green fuzzy jumper.

"What about these and the dress?"

"All together?" Anneliese chirped anxiously.

Dorcas grinned. "Yes."

Cherry laughed.

Anneliese wrung her hands while staring at the combination. "Well, a dress and trousers is rather unconventional. And one doesn't ordinarily wear all of those shades of green together at once…"

"Excellent!" Dorcas said, turning eagerly to Cherry to help her unfasten the buttons at the back collar of her dress. "I'm going to make Mohit hate the color green by the time I'm through with him."

Anneliese sighed in exasperation. "What are you going to do with your hair, Dory?"

"Hmm…" Cherry mused, running her fingers through Dorcas's dark brown tresses. "I could make it green too."

"That might be overkill," Dorcas said, alarmed at the idea of green hair, even for a joke.

"Something asymmetrical? Half short, half long?" Cherry offered.

Dorcas turned around and lifted her arms so that Cherry could pull the emerald dress over her head. "Could you put it all back to the same length once the date's over?"

"Sure! I'll show you," Cherry said.

Dorcas finished dressing while Cherry reached for her wand.

"Hey! I don't think so, sis!" Anneliese yelled.

Dorcas whipped around, hopping on one leg as she pulled on the trousers, in time to see Anneliese raise her wand at Cherry. Cherry was pointing hers at Anneliese.

"I was only going to demonstrate the Trimming Charm we learned in Domestic Arts, Anne!"

"Demonstrate on yourself, Cher. I won't risk all this on your shoddy spellwork," Anneliese said, flinging her glistening curtain of blonde back from her shoulder.

Dorcas swallowed at the words "shoddy spellwork".

"Fine, you baby!" Cherry hissed. She turned to her mirror and pointed her wand at her auburn waves. "Arrado Maxima!"

A collective gasp sounded in the dormitory as Cherry appeared clean shaven, scalp shiny as if it had been waxed.

"Bugger!" Cherry screamed at her own reflection.

Anneliese laughed. "Maybe use Arrado Minima! instead."

"Finite!" Cherry proclaimed in a shaky voice.

Her hair returned as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.

"You weren't sure you'd be able to reverse it, were you?" Anneliese bellowed. "And you were going to experiment on me?"

"You have a cute bald head, Cherry," Dorcas complimented to lighten the mood.

"Thanks," Cherry panted, still shaken by her temporary hair loss.

Dorcas took out her wand and gathered half of her hair from the left side of her head. "Arrado Minima!"

About three inches disappeared on the left side of her head. The lack of weight caused the shorter side to begin to curl slightly.

"I think I should do the longer side in tiny plaits," Cherry said, carding her fingers through Dorcas's hair.

"Let's do it," Dorcas agreed. "What's the spell to put spots on your face?"

"T-to p-put them on your face?" Anneliese asked, appalled.

:::

Dorcas followed Anneliese and Cherry down to the Gryffindor common room, wishing she was going with them into the village instead of going with sodding Mohit Singh.

When she stepped into the room, a hush fell over the few students sitting by the fire.

Dorcas was relieved that most of Gryffindor Tower's inhabitants were either at breakfast, or on their way into Hogsmeade already.

Darren, Cal, and Beau were waiting for them, standing in a row as they approached. Beau laughed and Darren whistled.

Cal's mouth hung open as he stared.

"Meadowes is speechless!" Beau guffawed, as he took in all of the details of Dorcas's outfit.

Dorcas squirmed in embarrassment under Cal's gaze, her toes were sweating in the violently red Wellington boots that Cherry lent her.

"Green's a lovely color on you, Clerey," Cal finally managed to say.

Dorcas's hand reflexively shot up to tug self-consciously on her plait that was usually there, only to be reminded that she'd chopped her hair off on the left side.

She covered the awkward gesture by running her fingers through the short and curly side of her head.

"Dory's got a date," Cherry announced loudly.

Cal flinched at the statement. Dorcas thought he'd be used to Cherry's loud and brash voice by now.

"Who's the lucky fella?" Darren asked.

Dorcas felt herself redden in embarrassment. "Mohit Singh. It's a bit of a joke, actually."

"A joke date?" Cal asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

Dorcas nodded. "He was being a prat and wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed. So I'm going to make it the worst date of his life."

Cal smiled finally. "You're terrifying, Dorcas Clerey!"

"Thank you," she replied, doing a clumsy curtsy, holding out the emerald skirt of the dress she'd borrowed.

"Remind me never to date you," Beau chuckled. "Poor Mohit!"

"Bollocks! He's a wanker!" Darren argued.

"That's what I said!" Dorcas cried. "He was unconvinced."

They made their way down to the entrance hall, Dorcas soaking up the bad date advice that Cherry, Darren, and Beau offered her.

"Wherever he takes you, order the most expensive thing on the menu," Cherry instructed.

Darren added, "Use the loudest, most obnoxious laugh you can manage. Pretend everything he says is funny."

"Be really handsy," Beau offered.

Anneliese hit him. "Don't do that, Dory!"

"Don't worry, I won't. I wore lots of layers. So he can't be handsy either!" she pointed out.

Cal had been silent, hands buried in his pockets during the conversation. She knew the "handsy" comment had bothered him. After all, he was the one who'd found Clay Atwood stunned on the ground after he'd tried to have a go with her.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea, Dorcas," he said in a low voice, trying not to be overheard.

"We could be your chaperones!" Anneliese quipped. "What's more annoying than five extra wheels on your date?"

"It's okay, guys. I've got this handled," Dorcas said as she found Mohit waiting for her at the bottom of the main staircase.

Cal turned to her and opened his mouth to argue. Dorcas stopped him with a hand on his elbow. "It's alright, Cal. I can handle Mohit Singh."

"Okay," he relented. "But we'll be close by, just in case."

Dorcas smiled and then joined her date. "Hi, Mohit."

"Dorcas, what are you wearing?" he asked, looking her over with a pronounced frown on his face.

"I know, she's prettier than ever, right?" Cal asked conversationally.

Mohit's features darkened with jealousy at Cal's compliment. Dorcas rolled her eyes at him. "They're messing with you." Turning to her friends, she said, "Bye, guys. See you in the village."

"You two could walk with us," Anneliese offered with an innocent bat of her lashes.

"I only asked out Dorcas," Mohit glowered at her. "Not the whole lot of you."

"Rude!" Anneliese pouted as Beau laughed. But the group walked out of the castle and into the frigid late winter wind.

Cherry ran back to her and added in a whispered afterthought, "Lick your lips a lot on the walk into the village so that they'll be chapped and he won't want to kiss you."

Dorcas laughed as Mohit glared.

"Your friends are very annoying!"

Feigning offense, Dorcas placed a hand over her heart and scoffed. "Since we're dating now, pookie, you're going to have to make an effort to get along with my friends!"

"Pookie?"

"Why not? You have an annoying pet name for me?"

Mohit narrowed his eyes at her. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"I know I am."

:::

9 March, 1959 14 South Audley Street, Mayfair, London

Dorcas watched as Pippa snapped at a fanged geranium.

Miss Moody had finally put her foot down about the kitten accompanying Wren to her lessons. When Pippa was present, Wren found it difficult to pay attention.

So Dorcas had a tiny helper in the greenhouse today.

The kitten was amusing to watch, arching her back and hissing at the animated perennial. If the plant was more mature, it could do some real damage to the kitten, but since it was only a seedling, it was harmless to her.

She was repotting firethorn and star of Ishtar today. The work was calming after the last few tense days. Since the completion of Stephen Muybridge's trial and sentencing, Dorcas felt as if she was living in a constant state of frayed nerves.

Tom's unexpected intrusion into her mind in the courtroom, the seizures that followed, the removal of another modified memory, and the discovery of an entire relationship that she didn't remember having...it was enough to drive the sanest person to madness.

Ryann's constant refrain of, "You can't keep me locked up here like a prisoner" threatened to unravel the last thread of mental stability that she possessed.

The potting soil beneath her fingers felt divine.

Rolling her head from one side to the other to relieve the ache in her shoulders, Dorcas jumped at the unexpected sound of the hinges on the greenhouse door creaking.

"You startled me," she chastised as Cal stooped to pick up Pippa. "What are you doing home? I thought you'd be at the hospital until six at least."

Cal scratched Wren's kitten behind the ear and leaned on the wooden gardening bench that Dorcas was working on.

"I want to talk about Ryann," Cal answered.

Dorcas's shoulders dropped dramatically in mock disappointment. "And here I thought you were sneaking home for a quickie like old times."

Cal dropped the kitten lightly onto the bench and pulled Dorcas close to him. "Is that an offer?"

"I'm all dirty," Dorcas replied, wiggling soiled fingers in his face.

Placing his lips against her ear, Cal whispered, "I like it when you're dirty."

Dorcas laughed, but pushed him gently away, careful not to get dirt on his crisp, white dress shirt. She wouldn't want to start something only to be rebuffed by Cal when things became too intimate. The rejection would be too painful.

"Let me guess...Ryann wants you to talk me into letting her return to Hogwarts?"

Cal gasped. "Are you a mind reader?"

Dorcas buried the tip of the trowel she'd picked up into the worn wood of the work bench.

"Ha ha!" she said dryly. "Let's hear the speech, then."

"She will make it difficult, Dorcas. She's stubborn like you."

Dorcas nodded. Yes, her daughter inherited her forceful will.

"Do you remember when Dippet tried to force you to take that wifey course that you hated?"

That caused Dorcas to snort with laughter. "Wifey course! Domestic Arts. I remember, unfortunately."

"What did you do when you were forced to take a class you didn't want?"

Dorcas sighed. "I get the point. She's going to refuse to learn from any tutor we try to hire. Why do you two always gang up on me?"

"I don't mean for it to seem that way. But I know what it's like to be denied the opportunity to attend a school that I loved."

"I'd forgotten that your father tried to keep you from going back… How did you finally convince him?"

"He was never fully convinced. He thought magic was nonsense and had no real-world applications that could benefit the family. I told him that his money would be wasted at Harrow; that I would intentionally fail everything if he made me go there. My mother interceded for me. Ultimately, my brother returning from the continent alive was the only thing that made him back off… For a time, anyway."

"I'm your father in this scenario, Jesus!" Dorcas gasped.

There was a little levity in the comment, but Dorcas took the point to heart. Cal's father had been single minded in his determination to write Cal's future, especially once he'd unexpectedly become the heir to the substantial Meadowes properties. Dorcas had despised the man for his vice grip on his son's choices.

"That's not what I'm saying at all. I want you to consider giving Hogwarts another chance. Consider giving Dumbledore another chance. I know what happened to you there was an absolute nightmare, my love. But most people aren't as cruel as Tom was to you. Besides, we can't shelter her forever. She's going to have to learn to look after herself at some point."

"But the things that happened to me wouldn't have happened if the staff hadn't been so damned oblivious…"

"I trust Professor Dumbledore, sweetheart. Deep down, I think you do too. I trust him with my life; with our daughters' lives, Dorcas. If he says he will be vigilant and watchful over Ryann, I believe him."

"Cal...if something were to happen to her…" Dorcas's grip on the trowel she was holding tightened. "Cal, I would kill for her if someone dared to–"

Mercifully, Cal cut her off before she'd spoken the rest of the thought that was in her mind. Pulling her tight against his chest, taking the gardening tool from her hand, he stroked her hair and promised that he would beat her to the bastard who hurt their daughter before she could get to him.

"Will you consider it, my love? I hate seeing her unhappy. It's tearing me apart!"

"I hate it too," Dorcas agreed. "I'll think about it."

:::

13 March, 1942 Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, High Street, Hogsmeade Village

"So why did you cut yourself during Potions?" Mohit asked, scanning the menu at the all-pink tea shop he'd taken her to. "Are you like a masochist or something?"

Dorcas was trying to remember all of the advice her friends had given her before unleashing her on her victim. She was scanning over the prices listed looking for the most expensive thing, as Cherry had suggested.

She could tell that Mohit had tried to make the effort.

He was dressed nicely in a pair of black wool trousers and a blue dress shirt. He'd even worn a waistcoat. How fancy!

Dorcas was almost impressed when he latched on to one of the few things he knew about her and took her to Dominic Maestro's Music Shop.

"You play the piano, right?" he'd asked, sticking close to her side in the crowded shop as she perused pages of compositions from musicians she'd never heard of.

"That's right," Dorcas replied, greedily scanning a piece by a wizard named Zizair Vizzy. "Ooh! This looks complicated! I'm getting this!"

Her expression fell almost at once when she remembered that she couldn't visit her piano in the secret room without running into Tom.

"I'll get it for you!" Mohit offered, pausing when he saw the smile slip from her face. "What? You're not one of those women who insist on paying their own way, are you?"

"No, I was only thinking that it'll be months until I get a chance to try it out."

"Well, there's a piano right here!" Mohit responded, pointing to an upright in the display window, enchanted to play tune after tune for the patrons. "I'll be lookout. You get up there and impress the hell out of us!"

Dorcas forgot for a moment that she was supposed to be making Mohit miserable and took his hand, allowing him to help her up into the display. She eagerly spread the music out and fumbled through the first few stanzas of the piece.

She was clumsy with the tune, but her date cheered her on as if he'd paid for tickets to this concert.

"I would love to get really good at this one!" she enthused, climbing out of the display, continuing to read the music.

"When you do, will you play it again for me?"

Dorcas was surprised by the sincerity of the request and accidentally smiled. Not a sneering smile like the ones she'd given him earlier. But a genuine smile.

"Sure."

His grating voice and invasive questions snapped her back to the uncomfortable present.

"So why did you cut yourself during Potions? Are you like a masochist or something?"

The masochist comment just depleted the goodwill he'd earned by buying her the sheet music.

"Well, I'm here with you, so the evidence suggests that I am," she answered. "Speaking of being here with you…" Dorcas added, reaching into the pocket of her trousers. She tried not to notice the way Mohit raised his eyebrows as he watched her reach under the skirt of the dress she wore over the trousers.

She removed a piece of parchment, a quill, and a small inkwell.

"What's this?"

"Just an agreement. In writing. Saying that you'll never breathe a word to Slughorn or anyone else about what you saw that day in Potions class if I hold up my end of the bargain."

Mohit slid the parchment closer and read it. "What's your end of the bargain?"

"Two hours, a meal, and conversation. That's it."

"Three hours and holding hands," Mohit countered.

"Two hours and you hold your own hand," Dorcas rejoined.

"Two hours and a kiss at the end of the date."

The tea shop attendant came by to take their order and Dorcas realized that she hadn't decided what she wanted to eat.

"Tea, please," Dorcas squeaked, taking the agreement from Mohit and flipping it face down on the table.

"Is that it?" Mohit scoffed. "The agreement was a meal, babe."

Dorcas ground her teeth at the pet name. "You order first, pookie. I need time to decide."

"I'll have tea and the braised chicken, please. No onions."

Dorcas knew her face wore a disgusted expression when Mohit ordered his food with no onions and then pointedly winked at her.

"Mmm. That sounds good. I'll have the same," Dorcas smiled sweetly. "But I want extra onions, please."

The tea shop server was staring at her quizzically when Dorcas's head was turned, but wasn't fast enough to school her expression when Dorcas caught her.

"What an interesting hairstyle, miss…" the server attempted to cover for her staring.

Dorcas grinned. "Doing what I can to catch this one's eye," she replied, leaning over to Mohit and pinching his cheek for effect. She winked at the server and whispered loudly, "It worked!"

The attendant walked away with a perplexed expression but didn't say anything else.

Mohit leaned in and met Dorcas's gaze. "You think this getup is a turn off, but you're wrong, babe. I'm into it! Your spotty face and all!"

Dorcas was annoyed that he was trying to play her game against her. It was time to up the ante. She pulled a stricken expression and gasped.

"What did you say about my spots?"

Mohit sat back, his eyes darting down to the tabletop in front of him.

Dorcas was loud enough to draw the attention of several other couples in the tea shop as well as the server, who'd chosen that exact moment to bring their tea. She covered her pimply forehead and made her bottom lip quiver.

Someone behind Dorcas tisked at Mohit. The server set his cup and saucer down forcefully, sloshing half its contents on the table before him.

"I'm sorry. I thought that was part of this stupid costume…" he floundered.

Dorcas kept up the pretense until the server turned away.

"Well, it's not. I tend to break out a lot around that time of the month," Dorcas continued. "And the cramps are just awful. And I'm just so emotional!"

"Gah!" Mohit choked, slapping his hands quickly over his ears. "Merlin, Dorcas! Okay! Enough!"

Dorcas leaned in, dropping the act immediately. "Are you sure you want more than two hours of this, Singh?"

"I get the point," he muttered, removing his hands and flipping the agreement over and signing it. "Two hours and a kiss."

"A light peck on the cheek," Dorcas conceded, taking back the agreement with Mohit's signature. "Oh, and this is spelled so that you can't back out of the agreement."

"What?" he barked, looking nervously between Dorcas and the parchment that she was folding up once more.

"Just in case you were thinking about breaking it. Don't tell Slughorn and you have nothing to worry about!" She smiled angelically.

"Wait! You need to sign it too!"

Dorcas shrugged. "I'll hold up my end, don't you worry about that!"

"No way! You sign it too. That way it's fair."

"Fine," Dorcas growled as Mohit slid the quill over to her. She added her name and tucked the contract into her pocket.

:::

10 March, 1959 Headmaster's Office, Seventh Floor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Just three and a half months and she'll be home again," Cal reminded Dorcas, trying to comfort her by rubbing circles between her shoulder blades.

She knew Cal was right to insist that Ryann be allowed to come back to school. And he was right about Professor Dumbledore. She knew that if he'd had even the slightest suspicion that Tom was hurting her when they were students here, he would have put an end to it immediately.

The times they spent wandering the corridors at night, holing up in the secret room together, sneaking out of the castle...the teachers couldn't watch out for her completely when she didn't follow the rules.

She'd had this conversation with Ryann before allowing her to come back. Though very light on details, she explained to Ryann that when she went out of bounds and broke the rules, she experienced some very bad consequences. This was the reason she was worried about Ryann returning to the school.

Ryann assured her that she did not go out of bounds and promised to follow all of the rules of the school.

"That sounds like a very long time, Cal," Dorcas replied nervously.

"I know, sweetheart."

"But you were right to take Ryann's side. I don't think she would have been able to forgive me if I'd kept her from this place."

Cal looked down at her and smiled. "Come on. Sure she would have."

"Would you have forgiven your father if he'd gotten his way?"

His expression darkened instantly. "My relationship with my father was more complicated. There were other issues besides where I went to school."

Dorcas regretted bringing up Cal's father. It was always a sore subject.

"Why didn't we use the floo in Dumbledore's office to go home again?" she asked, belatedly noticing that Cal had led her out of the headmaster's quarters and into the seventh floor corridor.

"I had a thought about the problem of your missing memories."

"What memories? Of Jack, you mean? What was your thought?"

Cal dropped his hand from her back and wrapped his fingers around hers instead. "Do you remember where that mirror was that you wrote to him about?"

"The one that showed me with him in the future?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"It's on the third floor, Charms corridor." Dorcas hadn't thought about the mirror in ages. She wondered if Cal was right. If she saw Jack reflected back at her, would it spark some long lost memory in her?

What if there was absolutely no way to undo what Tom had done this time? The other memories she'd been able to lift had all been single events, overridden by a Memory Charm and replaced with revised events. How was she going to be able to recover an entire person in her mind?

They seemed to have arrived just as classes were beginning to start. Dorcas noticed the halls become instantly less noisy and crowded as black robed children darted into classrooms for their lessons.

"It used to be in here," Dorcas said, when they came to the empty classroom where she remembered standing in front of the large looking glass on several occasions.

"It's bigger than I thought it would be," Cal admitted, pushing the door open and lighting the room with a flick of his wand.

Dorcas was suddenly afraid. What if the mirror reflected what she remembered? She never recalled seeing Jack in the mirror. Only Tom and their daughter, Ryann. An older version of Tom and herself. What if the reflection had changed in the decade plus since she'd stood here?

"Stand in front of it, Cal. It'll show you your future."

She would be lying if she said she wasn't curious about the reflection that stared back at Cal. Was she part of his future? Or would it show him something else? Someone else?

"What do you see?" She rushed to add, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Cal blinked a couple of times, but didn't answer her. Then he turned and smiled at her. "It shows you. And our children, Dorcas."

The way he answered her was odd and strangled. There was something he wasn't saying.

"See if the mirror shows you what you remember," he encouraged.

Dorcas gathered a breath and held it, replacing Cal in front of the mirror. She trembled as she opened her eyes. She wasn't ready to see Tom there again. She didn't know if she could handle seeing Jack there either.

"Neither Tom nor Jack is your future, Dorcas," she reminded herself internally.

She opened her eyes and saw… "Cal?"

"Yes, sweetheart? What is it?"

"You. I see...you. And Ryann. And Wren. I see us."

She released the breath she was holding and felt tears wetting her cheeks.

Cal took two quick strides and wrapped his arms around her, planting a deep kiss on her lips.

"I'm so relieved that I'm your future, my love. But this means we're no closer to solving this memory problem."

:::

13 March, 1942 Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, High Street, Hogsmeade Village

"You know, you don't have to extort girls for dates, Mohit," Dorcas said, cutting up her chicken. "You're sort of a decent-looking bloke."

Mohit took a gulp of his tea, caught off guard by the moment of honesty between them.

"You wouldn't have said yes, if I hadn't."

Dorcas chewed her bite, considering. "Well, you didn't treat me very nicely during the Halloween dance. But you made up for it by being kind when I cut my hand. Then you ruined it all by leveraging it to force me to say yes. Can you blame me?"

"I suppose not," he admitted.

Dorcas sipped her tea.

"If I had been nicer at the dance, would you have given me another chance?"

She considered this. She did find him attractive, but obnoxious sometimes, and overconfident. "I said yes to you when you asked me to the dance because I was worried that Clay Atwood was about to corner me and ask. So I sort of used you too. Besides, I have a sweetheart already. So, I probably wouldn't have said yes."

Dorcas swallowed another mouthful of tea, wishing she hadn't intimated the last bit about having a sweetheart.

Mohit's eyes narrowed on her. "You don't have a sweetheart. I asked around. Riddle said you're not together anymore and he said I should ask you."

She shook her head. Tom was such a jerk. "It's true Mohit. I'm attached already."

"Who is he then?"

Sighing and sitting back in her chair, Dorcas wondered how much more of this she could take. There was over an hour left on this date.

"You don't know him. He doesn't go to our school." It sounded lame even to Dorcas's ears the moment it came out of her mouth.

Mohit snorted. "You're an awful liar!"

"What? It's true!"

"First you said you can't go out with me because you have a sick relative that needs you. Then you tell me you have a boyfriend who goes to a different school. Come on! Those are the dumbest excuses in the world." His face fell and Dorcas could tell that her comment had hurt him. "I get it. The outfit, the hair, the excuses. You don't have to be nice. I know you don't like me."

Dorcas reached over and placed her hand on top of his as he clutched his fork.

"Mohit, that's not true! I do like you! But you have to take no for an answer in the future. Forcing a girl to date you is not a nice thing to do."

He perked up a little. His mood shift allowed Dorcas to feel better about all of the teasing. She really was being a monster to him and he didn't deserve it.

She squeezed his hand briefly before releasing it.

"I'm going to go to the ladies' for a minute. Excuse me."

As she disappeared down the small hallway at the back of the shop, she removed her wand and muttered, "Finite!" In the ladies, she was relieved when her reflection above the sink was spot-free and her hair was all one length again.

She ripped off the fuzzy jumper that was becoming a little too stuffy in the small shop.

The door opened behind her as her head was buried in the kelly green monstrosity.

"Sorry! Someone's in here. I'll be out in a second."

"It's just me, Dorcas," Mohit replied, gliding his arms around her waist and spinning her around so that her back was pressed against the door.

Dorcas struggled out of the jumper and threw it aside.

"Mohit!" she hissed. "What are you do–"

Her protest was halted when his mouth crashed violently into hers.

"Dorcas, I knew you would come around," he purred as his hand crept from her waist to her backside. His lips were moving over hers as he spoke.

Dorcas shoved him hard away from her. "Come around?" she whispered. "Are you crazy? Half the dating population of the school is out there right now and they saw you follow me in here!"

Mohit made a giddy sound and stepped toward her once again. "I know! Isn't this fun!"

"Don't come any closer!" she warned, holding her wand between them. "What possessed you to follow me in here?"

"You said you liked me. I thought we had a moment. You gave me that look…"

"What look? There was no look, Mohit. And I said I liked you AS A FRIEND. When you're not being an absolute GIT!" She was struggling to keep her voice down in her anger.

"Babe, don't be that way–" Mohit whined as he approached her again.

There was a tap on the washroom door.

Dorcas held a finger to her mouth, motioning for Mohit to shut the hell up.

"You're taking a long time in there. People are waiting."

Dorcas's blood went cold. That was June Riley's voice. She wouldn't be discreet about this juicy piece of gossip under any circumstances. Her mind raced for a solution to this absolute fiasco that wouldn't result in rumors about her and Mohit having sex in the toilet at Madam Puddifoot's.

Fuck, she mouthed without realizing it.

"Your dirty mouth is so sexy!" Mohit whispered.

Dorcas glared at him. "Were you dropped on your head as a baby? How are you in Ravenclaw? And who says things like that?" she hissed. Raising her voice, she called out to June, "Sorry! I'll be just a minute longer!"

Dropping to a low whisper once more: "I'm going to put a Chameleon Charm on you and you're going to follow me out of the washroom, got it?"

"A what charm?"

"It doesn't matter! Follow me out and don't say anything or make any noise," whispered Dorcas, crossing the small lavatory to flush the toilet and then run the sink's faucet for a moment in order to sound authentic for June's benefit on the other side of the door.

She rounded on Mohit once again, brandishing her wand. He held his hands up, thinking she was going to curse him. She should curse him!

"Talpaer!" she whispered.

"Whoa!" croaked Mohit, a little loudly.

Dorcas glanced behind her once more to be sure that Mohit was completely concealed. Then she unlocked the door, stepping out and giving June a wide berth.

"You might want to give it a moment," Dorcas said, waving at phantom fumes, stopping June from hurrying in and shutting the door. She wanted to buy Mohit enough time to exit as well.

There was a low laugh. June narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Dorcas tried to cover with a low laugh of her own that dissolved into coughing. "That tea might have had a little hyena leaf in it, don't you think?"

"Cute dress," June said before slamming the lavatory door in Dorcas's face.

She scanned the small hallway for anyone else that might see her remove the spell from Mohit. Thankfully, it was deserted.

"Where are you, pervert?" Dorcas whispered, waving her wand.

"Here. I'm not a pervert, tease!"

Dorcas promptly removed the spell and while Mohit was distracted by his newly reappeared limbs, Dorcas aimed a tight slap across his cheek.

"This date's over!"

When she stomped back into the front room of the little shop, several pairs of eyes were on her. Worse than the whole restaurant staring at her, was the realization that Cal was also staring. He was at the counter, holding a tray of to-go cups for his friends.

All she could think about was a quick escape. She flew at the door and onto the high street before Cal could say anything, before the reactions of the spectators could form in her mind, and most especially before Mohit had a chance to catch up with her.

Cherry, Anneliese, Beau, and Darren were across the street watching her as she tore out of the tea shop. Dorcas didn't turn in their direction. She didn't want to have to explain the whole humiliating situation, she just wanted to disappear.

If she walked back to the school now, she could change and be in Little Hangleton in less than half an hour by the Knight Bus. She made it as far as the lane to Hogwarts before she heard footsteps behind her.

"Wait up, Dorcas!" Cal called.

Dorcas huffed with impatience. "What do you want?"

"What happened back there?"

"Why were you there, huh?" Dorcas asked, ignoring his question. "Spying on me? I don't need you watching out for me. I can take care of myself!"

"Where's your coat? And the jumper you had on?"

Dorcas stopped walking and threw her head back in frustration. "They're back at the tea shop."

"Hang on, I'll get them for you and I'll walk back up to the school with you. Here, take my coat" He was busy undoing the buttons down the front of his gray coat and talking rapidly.

"Stop it, Cal!" Dorcas screamed.

Cal blinked and stepped back a half pace, his fingers pausing instantly. "Stop what?"

"Stop hovering! You're not my boyfriend! Leave me alone!"

She instantly regretted her words when she saw how they hit him. He'd never done anything to hurt her. Never so much as had a single negative thought about her. He didn't deserve her wrath. It was really meant for Mohit, and all the other boys who listened to Gemma and Tom and thought she was a tease and a whore.

She wasn't.

"Right. Sorry," Cal apologized. "Sod off, got it." He shrugged back into his coat.

She watched as he turned in the lane and headed back to Hogsmeade with his shoulders sagging and his eyes on his feet as he walked.

"Dammit!" Dorcas cursed. She decided not to run after him. An apology was definitely in order, but it would have to wait. She had to visit Jack's sick aunt and be back at school by dinner.