they were cute, in that weird sort of way that makes everyone else uncomfortable. they did weird things like sit on each other's lap, or lick the other's face. i'm all for 'to each his own,' but licking your boyfriend's face and then the two of you...
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September 13, 1981. A small cottage in Fawley, England.
"Well, Sully, I've cleaned out the attic, I've swept and mopped both upstairs and down, and I've finished reading the last unread book in the miserable hovel." The curly haired woman sat on her glistening floors. "All, I would like to add, without a wave of my wand."
Sully gave no reply. How could he? He was a three year old german shepherd. The witch did not seem to expect a reply, for she was quite satisfied with his silence. So satisfied in fact, she let it go on for several minutes.
"Merlin's beard," she sighed. "What is Dumbledore thinking? I can't stay here alone much longer." This was addressed to the cottage in general, and if it had feelings, it would be insulted.
It was quite a nice cottage with the late blooming flowers and the green lawn that was bordered by a white picket fence. The September air was invitingly warm and the birds could be heard singing. It was the most picturesque of cottages, but Dorcas Meadows was not happy. There was a war going on. A war that had taken her friends and family. A war that was a stiff contrast to the cheerful home. Everything around her seemed to mock her saying, You sit here, safe, while your friends risk everything, every second, of every day. Just three weeks ago, Madeye had come by to tell Dorcas that Fabian and Gideon had been caught by five death eaters. She still cried about that every night. Fabian had, after all, taken her to the Valentine's day bash. Dorcas still remembered how good of a kisser he was. STOP! She could not let herself go down this path, it would only end in more tears.
Dorcas had to think about the good things. Sirius, James, Remus, Peter, Lily, Alice, her new husband Frank, Pandora, and Regulus were all still alive. They were all still safe. James and Lily had a son, Harry was his name. There were still good things.
But then again, most things were not. Benji, Fabian, Gideon, and Marlene. Poor Marlene had died only two weeks after her birthday. The birthday Dorcas had missed.
"Miss Meadows!" It was the voice of the neighbor's son. "Miss Meadows!"
Dorcas sprang to her feet. Dumbledore had strictly told her not to associate with any of the surrounding people, muggle or not. Dorcas had listened for two days. Then young Ben Astors had been playing outside her home. He had cut his knee and Dorcas had helped him. She was now close with the boy and his grandmother. She knew that his parents were dead and the two of them lived alone. Dorcas often went over to help the two of them with the chores or making food.
"What's wrong Ben?" Sully followed Dorcas out into the yard. He loved to play with Ben.
"It's my gran," he panted. "She-she's hurt. Bad."
"Show me." Dorcas didn't know it, but those would be the last words she remembered.
The two darted across the small field that separated their relative cottages. No one saw them, for there was no one living close enough to glance out the window and notice the brunet boy leading the caramel skinned girl by the hand. As they neared the somewhat crumbling Astors dwelling, she noticed no signs of distress. The door was swinging agar from when Ben had darted out of it to get Dorcas.
Ben got ahead of Dorcas as he entered the house and led her rapidly up the stairs. The pounding of their feet on the hard wood and their heavy breathing. In through the first door on the left and a flash of green light.
- this was an idea i had as i reread the order of the phoenix
