Empty Gold • d.meadowes

-38-

The seventh year Gryffindor girls' dormitory looked like it has been robbed. Clothes were strewn over the beds and chairs, and whichever surface didn't have any kind of fabric was covered with piles of books. Plates and spoons were scattered here and there, and a half eaten sandwich lay abandoned on the table by Dorcas's bed.

The three girls were sprawled on the floor surrounded by books and rolls of parchment. Part of the floor was stained a deep black – someone must have spilled ink at one point, though Dorcas couldn't really remember it happening. She was leaning against Maeve's bed, eyes closed and sporting a nasty headache. Beside her stood an empty mug which was filled with firewhisky just half an hour ago.

Maeve had, once again, paid James Potter and his gang to smuggle some firewhisky for them from Hogsmeade. They were planning to loosen their heads a little and have some fun. After all, as Silver had said, they wouldn't be returning to this place after they leave.

Dorcas groaned as she pulled her quill and inkpot towards her. Soaking the tip of the quill with much more ink than necessary, she began to doodle on the floor. The sound of the tip scratching over the stone floor caused her friends to look at her in irritation. "Knock it off, Dorcas," Silver scolded, tossing one of her essays which hit her right on the side of her head.

"Hey, don't disrespect your essay," Maeve said in a garbled voice and smacked Silver. "Pass that to me, Dork."

"Disrespect my essay?" Silver exclaimed in shock. "That essay should be grateful that I even bothered to write it at all."

"Easy for you to say." Maeve crawled over and took the essay herself when Dorcas didn't respond in any way to her. She rolled up the parchment and cradled it lovingly in her arms. "You've already got a job. The NEWTs are just a formality for you."

"Not true. I can still lose the job if I fail Ancient Runes."

"Which you won't, even if you don't prepare at all," Dorcas piped in, speaking for the first time. She was still scratching away on the floor and didn't look up at them as she spoke.

"You too, Dorcas," Maeve continued, speaking in a slow, miserable voice. "You have a job too. You both are going to get busy with your adult lives as soon as you leave Hogwarts and I'm going to continue living with my parents, eating cookies and writing letters to the both of you even though you will never respond."

"Of course we will," said Silver half-heartedly. The scenario wasn't new to them. Maeve had been drunk a few times before, and each time she was, she wallowed about how lonely she was and how her friends would leave her. She usually didn't remember much of it after sobering up.

Maeve leaned over and took the half full bottle of firewhisky. Instead of pouring herself a small amount, she began to drink it straight from the bottle. Silver gave a loud cry and snatched it from her, spilling some of the drink over the books that lay on the floor. "No more drinking, Maeve," she said authoritatively. "You don't want to have a hangover now, trust me."

She corked the bottle and held it out for Dorcas. "Hide it somewhere, will you?"

But Dorcas didn't take it, nor give any indication that she has heard her. She continued doodling on the floor. The headache wasn't getting better, but it has stopped worsening, which was a consolation.

She heard Silver let out a sigh. "A little alcohol, and now I have to be the parent," she muttered to herself as she crossed over the books and clothes to come and sit beside her. "What's going on, Dork?"

"My life has been ruined," she answered monotonously. "What else."

Silver wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Dorcas didn't really feel like talking, but she couldn't deny that the physical contact didn't feel good. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not that bad. Who cares what those people think about you? What matters is that you are going to graduate in a few weeks, and then you will be out in the world all on your own, with no one to hold you back."