Chapter Text
Nicotine is terrible for your health. But then, so is being forcibly removed from your home and support network of seven years. Did one cancel out the sting of the other? Or do they just leave you doubly poisoned when the doctor leaves the room?
Sitting in a secluded corner on the library floor, Dorcas lit another cigarette and remembered their first day at Hogwarts. They'd been an unnaturally gangly preteen (giving way to a gracefully tall almost-adult), able to see over all the silly black hats.
Merlin, they’d been so nervous. Now, Dorcas couldn't picture any life outside of the school. Their mind just sort of blocked it out whenever the thought came up.
"Dorcas?" A familiar voice, an oh-so familiar voice, hollered through the quiet library. And… there it was, the answering "sshhhh!" from the librarian. Smirking, Dorcas took another drag. "Dorcas!"
"I'm here, babe," they said at a normal volume.
A second later, Marlene crashed into them, collapsing on the floor and flinging her arms around them. Dorcas nuzzled her blonde hair automatically.
"I missed you!" Their girlfriend's voice was now muffled in their school sweater.
"Oh, I'm sorry…"
"It's fine. We guessed you'd be in here."
"I like it here."
Dorcas let their head rest back on the bookshelf and looked up into the stream of sunlight that poured overhead like an aqueduct from the tall window. Apart from the two of them and the librarian, the library was empty. Exams for the younger years were over and everyone was enjoying the sunshine.
As a seventh year, Dorcas' exams weren't over for another week and really, they should be revising right now. Marlene, snuggled into their side, reached up a hand and snagged the cigarette from Dorcas' lips. She tutted.
"You know these will kill you, right?"
"You sound like my mom."
"Nah, your mum doesn't know you smoke."
"Got me there," Dorcas said. They watched Marlene stub the cigarette out and vanish it with a spell. Honestly, they didn't care that much about the drug to stop her.
It was a pastime for them, unlike for others in their friend group, namely Remus Lupin, who was more likely to be found with a cigarette these days than a full meal. Exam season was a toughie.
"I can think of something much better to have between your lips," Marlene teased, dragging them from their thoughts.
She took Dorcas' face in her spare hand and pressed their lips together. As if there was no rush, as if it wasn't the last fortnight of their old lives, as if they weren't one birthday away from adulthood. Dorcas forgot everything when Marlene kissed them. The oblivion was blissful.
It was shattered by the librarian, who dropped a tottering stack of books right behind them. Dorcas jumped, accidentally shaking Marlene away.
"Excuse me, do you mind?" Marlene asked the librarian indignantly. "We're in the middle of something!"
"Library's closing," Ms Jones said. She had dropped the books on purpose, without a doubt.
Dorcas and Marlene scrambled to their feet, Marlene managing it with her hands still tangled in Dorcas' sweater. The librarian pursed her lips and Dorcas spread their arms out like what can you do?
" Out. " The library doors thudded closed behind them. Marlene sighed her fringe out of her eyes.
"C'mon," she said. "My common room?"
Dorcas nodded assent and they ambled off together. Sunlight slanted over the stone floors vapidly and all was stillness. Marlene held Dorcas' arm in both hands like a flower vase she wanted the world to see in her possession. Dorcas breathed in. A lungful of this beat a cigarette any day.
"Miss Meadowes!" the voice of Professor Acer wavered after them. Acer was the Herbology prof and head of Hufflepuff house. She was new, and considerably shorter than Dorcas.
"Just Meadowes is fine, prof," Dorcas reminded as they spun on a heel.
"That's professor to you, Meadowes," Acer said. "Would you step into my office a moment?" Marlene followed, attached, but Acer put out a hand. "Just Dorcas and I, please."
"But professor," Marlene pleaded.
"No buts."
"Hey." Dorcas squeezed their girlfriend's hand. "I'll meet you in the common room?"
Marlene left looking backwards. Following their professor into the office, Dorcas selected a chair.
"I expect you know what this is about?" Acer said as she took her own seat.
"I - yes."
"You understand that we've reached the limit for you to postpone this meeting?" Despite the warning, the professor's eyes twinkled and Dorcas chuckled abashedly.
"It was supposed to happen in September, wasn't it?"
"It was, yes. Well, it's always best to have an idea of your career direction before we make too much headway into your final year…" Acer trailed off.
"...but things are seriously different this summer," Dorcas finished.
"You don't have to tell me, Meadowes. I know too well." The professor set her glasses on the desk and rubbed her eyes with a sigh. "Have you heard about the Gryffindor shenanigans poor Professor McGonagall has had to put up with recently?"
"Not shenanigans, professor," they said quietly. It was all their friends had been talking about for a few weeks now. It had been the cause of the worst fight Dorcas had ever seen between Remus and James. "They're certain about it."
"Dorcas. Please don't tell me you're here to say you intend on doing the same thing."
"No, professor." Dorcas paused, weighing words. The sun streamed in. Professor Acer's hands were lit up like a negative in the direct light. Only a short time earlier, the sun hadn't reached the middle of the desk yet. The afternoon - one of the precious, last afternoons - was passing so quickly. Their voice, always soft and unobtrusive, dropped to a breath. "I wasn't invited to join the Order the way James, Lily, Sirius and the others were. I don't want to become a soldier, professor."
A visible weight dropped from Acer's shoulders. "We’re all glad to hear it."
“We, professor?”
Acer shifted, a little uncomfortable. “You know I don’t like to speak out against employers. But this year… all staff have been put in a very difficult position with the seventh years.”
"Do you not agree with Dumbledore's scheme, professor?" Dorcas tilted their head to one side.
“I can’t - I wouldn’t go so far as that. Besides, Meadowes, that is not what I called you here to discuss.”
It had been hard to get political talk out of any professor lately, not that Dorcas’ friends hadn’t been trying. Every time it looked like the conversation was going in an interesting direction, the adult in question would change the topic.
“Remind me of your OWL grades, please...”
Dorcas slipped from Professor Acer’s office after a subdued goodbye, with information leaflets in hand. They saw almost no one on the whole walk up to Gryffindor Tower, except a few ghosts and some harried-looking fifth years. The sound of conversation grew as they approached the Pink Lady’s portrait. She smiled benevolently down on Dorcas.
“Ah, my favourite Hufflepuff.”
“Very kind, m’lady.”
“Password?”
“Marlene McKinnon.”
“Come now, that’s not even close.”
“Yeah, OK.”
The Pink Lady winked and swung aside for Dorcas to duck in. Immediately, they were bombarded with noise.
“- BEING TRUCULENT! THIS IS A LIFE OR DEATH MATTER!”
“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT? YOU THINK I’M AN IDIOT? I-”
“TIMES LIKE THESE, YES! I DO.”
“Whoa,” said Dorcas at a normal volume.
At one side of the room, heavy book in each hand, James Potter stood with exclamation in every line of his body. Lily Evans stood on an ottoman across from him. She seemed to be holding herself back from attack. Dorcas slid onto a sofa facing the duel and wrapped their arm smoothly around Marlene’s shoulders.
“I have no idea, I found them like this,” she said.
Peter, on Marlene’s other side, explained, “Mother and Father are having a disagreement.”
“THIS IS NOT A TIME TO BE REASONABLE, JAMES!” Lily bellowed. It was quite amazing how much sound could come from two such short people.
“What are they fighting about today?” asked Dorcas.
“Oh, the usual. If they were in an ambush with Death Eaters on all sides, who would sacrifice themself for who.”
“Seriously?”
“Don’t underestimate true love, Dorcas,” Peter warned.
“Oh, believe me,” they started, hugging Marlene closer.
Up the stairs, the seventh-year boys’ dorm door banged open. A furious head covered in a mess of curls and wreathed in cigarette smoke stuck out.
“For the love of God, will you please shut up, ” Remus growled. “Some of us are trying to study.”
James looked abashed. “Sorry, Rem.”
“ Remus .”
“Remmiekins.”
“Get lost.” The door slammed again.
Marlene sighed wistfully. “Oh, it’s so lovely everyone living together in such harmony. I wish it could be like this forever.”
“I don’t live here,” Dorcas objected.
“You basically do.”
“Speaking of which,” Peter put in. He was holding a packet of crisps in one hand and a thin, white envelope in the other. “Would you give me a hand with something, Dorcas?”
“‘Course I will, Pete.”
He stood up. Dorcas stared. “Oh, now?”
“Yeah, please.”
“ ‘K.”
Marlene made a baby-sheep noise at Dorcas untangling themself from her, which Dorcas replied to with a kiss on the head. Peter led them out of the common room and a little way down the quiet corridor.
“It’s nothing shady, don’t worry,” he said with a chuckle.
“I wasn’t worried.”
“It’s this.” He held the envelope out. It was a thin and slim white thing, with a Muggle stamp and a sticker printed with Peter’s full legal name.
“A Muggle letter? Did your owl mug a mailman?”
Peter laughed. “Me mum sent it by owl, it came to our house. Bit weird for her, seeing as we’re wizard through-n-through. But I know what it is, I’ve been waiting for it.”
“Well? Spill.” Dorcas fingered the corner of the cigarette book in their pocket lazily, like a casual addict.
He slipped a piece of paper out and reread it. “You know how James and Lily have a place for after graduation?”
“Yeah, in London too, the lucky rich sods.”
“Reckon Remus and Sirius will have one too, soon enough.”
“I mean, have you seen the size of that boy’s bank account?”
“Shouldn’t be allowed,” Peter quipped back. “Well, my maths isn’t the best but that seems to me as if it’s all the men in my dorm taken care of.”
“But you,” Dorcas pointed out.
“Exactly. You see what I’m getting at?”
Dorcas squinted at the upside-down letter. “Is that from a real-estate agent or something?”
“Right on the money, Dorc.”
“OK.” Dorcas leaned against the wall. “Look, I’m happy you’ve got it all sorted out, Pete, I really do. I just don’t see what you need me for here?”
“Look, it’s not just for me,” he said earnestly. “Not meaning to be crass, or…”
Dorcas rolled their eyes indulgently. British people had such a weird taboo against talking about money.
“ Stop that. It’s not crass. What do you need from me?”
“Well… It’s more a case of what I can do for you. I’ll be honest, it’s not the comfiest house in London I’ve managed to let, but it’s a two-bedroom. And, truly, three people pooling for rent and expenses would leave us more than comfortable-”
“Oh! I see…”
“Good,” Peter said. “So… what do you think?”
Dorcas briefly thought back to the previous week. Their mom had sent quite an incomprehensible owl, with newspaper clippings and all - news of the ramping-up conflict had made it to New England and Dorcas’ mom had done what she did best: panic on her childrens’ behalf. “ You are studying hard, aren’t you, Cassie? Entrance exams are no joke, but even under the circumstances…”
And then Marlene’s mum and dad, who’d quit their Edinburgh jobs, moved to Norfolk and turned Marlene’s world upside down in three days. Everything had been so hectic, Dorcas had been putting off the question of “where the hell are we gonna live?” in favour of literally everything else.
And now the answer was being handed to them on a friend-shaped, low-rent plate? Too good to be true, or a happy coincidence they should grab with both hands.
“You’ll have to talk to Marlene,” they said finally.
“But when I ask you,” Peter urged. “I mean, not to rank friends. You’re just a little more sensible, you know.”
Dorcas laughed darkly. That was certainly not a new one. “OK. Well, it hinges on Marlene for me. She is my beloved girlfriend, you know-”
“Everyone knows,” he put in teasingly.
“-but if she says yes, I’m in.”
“Excellent!” Peter’s kind, round face split into his pumpkin grin. Dorcas couldn’t help but smile back, and clap his shoulder.
“And Pete? This is really good of you.”
“What are friends for, Dorcas?”
The smile he gave them was a world away from the shy boy who shadowed James and Sirius in their younger years, and the strange tiptoeing he’d performed when Dorcas had come out to the boys. Their heart filled with sudden gratitude to be surrounded by people like this: true friends, with love and helping each other as the first priority.
“What indeed,” they said, looping an arm around his shoulders as they walked back to Gryffindor. “Now let’s go ask my girlfriend to move in with us.”