Empty Gold • d.meadowes

-17-

Now that she was alone, with her friends at Hogwarts and her mother at home, Dorcas allowed herself to start thinking of her future. As a child, she had, for some reason, believed that she would be able to settle into a steady job right after graduating from school. But the more she grew, the more she realised it wasn't that easy. Not only was there the matter of applying for a job being an arduous process, she also had to take into mind the competition, especially in the singing industry. The authorities there rarely took into account the stress and the ordeal the competitors went through, and as far as Dorcas had seen, it was an inhuman process.

After buying a couple of sweets from the trolley lady who arrived shortly after, Dorcas leaned back against the wall and dozed off into a light sleep, her subconscious still alert enough with the frequent jerks of the Hogwarts Express. She may have fallen asleep, but a loud thud sounded that pulled her out of her semi consciousness and she leapt up abruptly from her seat, her brain slightly fuzzy and unable to process her surroundings. When she pushed her hair out of her face and blinked a few times, she was finally able to see what had caused the disturbance.

The door to her compartment was vibrating slightly on its hinges, showing that it had just been slammed shut. Near it stood Emma Vanity, a broad, sunny grin on her face that may have looked friendly had it not been for the sharp twinkle in her eyes that brought a cold shiver to run down Dorcas's spine. Crabbe was in the room too, whose presence brought a momentary bout of confusion to rise in her – if he had somehow entered the compartment without waking her up, she must have been in a deep sleep. He gave a rather stupid grin, possibly to match Emma's, but it only made him look like a pig that had been forced to wear human clothes.

Dorcas's hands itched for her wand, which has been stowed deep in her pockets, though she didn't need it. But the feel of the wand in her hand gave her a sense of security that she needed badly right now. She noticed that both her intruders were gripping their wands tightly, held aloft in front of them, and it gave her a momentary sense of relief – they were definitely afraid of her.

Emma was the first one to speak, and began with a menacing sneer. Dorcas wondered if all of the Slytherins were taught to sneer in their childhood.

"Going home, Dorcas?" she said in a sickly sweet voice. "Decided anything about joining us yet?"

Dorcas managed to hold her gaze, even though her eyes flickered dangerously. "I've told you before I'm not going to join your gang."

"You are a smart girl, Dorcas," she flashed her a bright smile, showing all her teeth. "Think about it. You're talented with your wand and you can do so many things. But Dumbledore or Flitwick will never give you any credit for that now, will they? You are meant for so much more than these stupid academics. Join us, and your talents will be rewarded."

Despite her thundering heart, Dorcas was able to scoff without effort, so ridiculous were the words that Emma spoke. She took a step back and eyed her intruders. "Tell your Dark Lord to keep the rewards for those who care," she spat, all the while her hand sliding into her pocket subtly, gone unnoticed by either of the Slytherins. She was already regretting having left the castle at all.

"Now, don't rush," Emma said in what could have been called a soothing voice. "You know –"

A strangled cry echoed inside the compartment, effectively cutting Emma off. Crabbe stood near the door, one chubby hand clutching desperately at the rough surface of the wall, and the other holding his stomach. A strange look was visible on his face – eyes closed, nose scrunched up, and cheeks red. A small smile appeared on Dorcas's face, but Emma looked beyond confused.

"What have you done to him?" she snapped, her hair bouncing as she whipped her head to look at the Gryffindor. Dorcas's smile only widened.

"Me? What makes you think I did anything?" she asked innocently, but only managed to anger the Slytherin further. Her face flared in rage, and she raised her wand, which she pointed directly at Dorcas's nose.

"Take the spell off him!" she ordered.

"What spell?"

Much to her amusement, this brought a look of confusion to take over her face. Wand still pointed at her, she swiftly flitted her eyes back to take a look at Crabbe, possibly trying to determine what spell she had actually used. It would have been easy, Dorcas thought, for they had learnt the spell in their second year. If only Crabbe had a normal way of laughing ...

Emma seemed to figure out her answer, and she glared at Dorcas again. "Is that a tickling spell?" she demanded.

"I don't know. Is it?"

This only angered her more, and the Slytherin girl charged toward her, her lips already moving to shape a word. But Dorcas had kept herself busy while Emma was scrutinising Crabbe – she had tied her shoelaces together – and it took only one step for Emma to come crashing to the ground. Her wand went free of her fingers and rolled away from her, and Dorcas hastily summoned it toward her.

The brief second inattention had lifted the tickling charm off of Crabbe, and she prepared herself to shoot another spell at him. But she was taken by a pleasant surprise when he gathered himself up and fled from the compartment, his beefy legs moving hastily, but incompetently. Dorcas turned her attention to the girl who was now raising herself to her feet.

"Do you want me to put a tickling charm on you as well?" she asked sweetly, and was met with a venomous glare in response.

Emma took a few steps back, her eyes never leaving Dorcas's, and nearly spat out her next words. "You think we're fooling around?" Her eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks flushed in anger. "The Dark Lord doesn't like being messed with. You will pay, Dorcas. I'm telling you. You are going to pay."

She wrenched her wand out of Dorcas's hand and stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind her. Dorcas remained standing for a few more minutes before her legs collapsed underneath her and she crashed down into the bench.

That had gone far better than she had expected it to go – that she couldn't deny. But she couldn't deny either, the fact that she had angered Emma Vanity, whose hate for her muggle father had amplified to hatred for everyone with no pureblood in their veins, and for those who refused to bow before the Dark Lord. She drew her legs close to her chest and curled up on the bench, waiting for her heart rate to slow and her shivering to stop.

Dorcas badly wanted to take a nap, but didn't want to risk it. Though, she wasn't disturbed throughout the rest of the journey, she kept herself alert, and trembled each time someone passed by the corridor, or jerked up each time a door was opened somewhere else. She only hoped her mother wouldn't question why she looked so frazzled once they met, and her anticipation to see her again was what pushed her to live through the excruciatingly long train journey.