Dorcas sat by the window of the compartment and stared out absently, her eyes focused on the view outside, though she was not really seeing anything. Silver sat opposite her, legs propped over the seat, while the Daily Prophet rested on her knees. Her long ash blonde hair was tied into a high ponytail which she twirled between her fingers, chewing absently on her lower lip. Maeve was out on prefect duty.
"Voldemort is gathering more followers," said Silver with a sigh, letting her head fall back on the wall. She dropped the Prophet on the empty spot beside her, glaring at the picture and the article on the front cover which depicted the new Minister of Magic, Harold Minchum, a tough looking man with greying hair and sharp, brown eyes. "Minchum has placed several more dementors in Azkaban, though I don't see how that is going to stop or indeed, resist Voldemort." She paused and sent a meaningful look to Dorcas, who had abandoned the window to look at her friend. "I've heard some of the sixth year Slytherins have joined his forces."
Dorcas turned to look properly at her best friend, a small frown shaping on her eyebrows. She pushed her curls out of her face before saying, "Before even leaving school? What use will children be to Voldemort?"
Silver laughed, a laugh that held no humour whatsoever, only a resounding bitterness echoing through the cold compartment. "Don't you know what these pureblood families are like? They start whispering Toujours Pur to the children while they're still a fetus."
At other times, Dorcas would have laughed at the impossibility of the statement, but now she couldn't bring herself to do so. Straightening her back, she pulled her legs close to her, hugging them to her chest. The ride on the Hogwarts Express was always filled with laughter and planning their holiday activities, Exploding Snap, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean, and even more laughter. She wasn't used to this gloomy environment. "What's going to happen?"
"He'll try to impose his ideologies on us, what else?" Silver said, rather nonchalantly, as though she was merely talking about the weather. Dropping the Prophet rather aggressively on the floor, she stood up and stretched, before walking over to stand in front of the window. Silver was quite tall, thus had to bend forward slightly in order to look outside.
Dorcas went over and stood beside her, pushing open the window to allow the icy wind to flood into the compartment. Snowflakes drifted in, clinging to their hair and robes, and both remained silent and allowed the whistling gale to speak for them, to whisper words in their ears; soft, but cold words that said a war was coming, and that once they left the castle, they'd be plunged into chaos and disorder with the Dark Lord looming over them, that they wouldn't have the future they'd always dreamed of. Dorcas shuddered unknowingly, hugging herself tightly with her arms. Suddenly, she felt very cold.
An arm come over her shoulder, and she was pulled into a side hug by Silver. She looked up at her before giving her a small, tight lipped smile.
"Now don't you ruin the holidays thinking of all of this nonsense, Dork," she said in a stern, but affectionate voice. "And you do remember that you're spending Christmas at our place, don't you?"
"How can we not remember that?" a voice called out from behind them and both turned to find Maeve walking into the compartment, tugging on the scarlet and gold scarf around her neck. "You've reminded us only a hundred times."
Dorcas let out a shaky laughter, still unable to get rid of the coldness that had taken over her body and mind. Gently pushing Silver's arm away, she said, "I'll take a walk outside, okay?" and trotted out of the compartment, sliding the door close quietly.
A sudden warmth spread through her as the door clicked shut, the wind no longer seeping into her body through the openings of her clothing, and she embraced it gratefully. Running her numb fingers through the course strands of her hair, she proceeded to walk down the corridor, keeping her eyes on the windows through which she could see the countryside whipping past her.
Suddenly, Dorcas was shoved to the side and knocked onto the door of a compartment, causing it to rattle underneath her. A quiet gasp left her mouth as she attempted to balance herself, and she turned her head to see the Slytherin prefect from her year leering at her. "Watch where you are going," he hissed before striding away from her, his robes bustling importantly around him.
Frowning slightly, she straightened herself, and nearly jumped when the compartment door opened with a creak. She brushed her robes with her hands and looked, before another gasp left her mouth, this time quite audible. Juliet Dearborn stood at the doorway, her eyes creased with a disapproving scowl as she stared at the area where the prefect had just disappeared.
"Who in their right mind would make him a prefect?" she muttered quietly before focusing her attention on Dorcas, who suddenly forgot how to breath. Juliet frowned, apparently interpreting her expression as a result of getting hurt from being shoved into the door. "Are you okay? Did it hurt?"
Dorcas was vaguely aware of the students who resided inside the compartment behind Juliet, silently watching the pair. But every fibre of her being was focused on the girl that stood before her. She had never before been this close to Juliet, and her eyes trailed over the platinum blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, and the piercing blue eyes that struck her like the icy flakes coming in through the open windows, and yet that held all the warmth of the world, and the blue and bronze school robes emblazoned with an eagle that clashed magnificently against the orange scarf she had wrapped around her neck. Dorcas only let out a slow breath in reply, allowing herself to take in the beauty of the Ravenclaw girl who she had taken the pleasure of watching from afar over the years, but who now, stood just inches from her.
"Meadowes?" She waved a hand in front of her face. "Dorcas? Are you okay?" Juliet called out, clicking her fingers, effectively pulling her out of her trance. She shook her head rapidly, involuntarily taking a step back when the blonde reached her hands out to hold her.
"I'm fine," she breathed, not meeting her eyes. "Thank you."
And without giving her the chance to speak further, Dorcas turned and hurried down the corridor to reach her own compartment, not glancing back to see the bewildered expression on Juliet's face, and slumped down on the bench opposite Silver and Maeve who, she vaguely registered, asked her what was going on. But her mind was too busy with thoughts for her to answer them.
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Empty Gold • d.meadowes
Fanfictiondorcas meadowes had always scorned the idea of love at first sight. love itself was founded upon knowledge about the person; it could not burst into existence like a firework. all that changed the first time she saw juliet dearborn. with long golden...
