Dorcas Meadowes

All your life, you wanted to fly, to soar higher and higher until you were up above the clouds.

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

hollowedlilies‌:

She has a mental image of Petunia’s face if an owl were to come flying through her window bearing news, happy or sad. If what she remembered was correct, Petunia was married and living in some cookie-cutter perfect house, probably decorated in pastels with vases everywhere. Dursley, that was her name now. Petunia Dursley and Lily Potter. No Evanses, not anymore. And Petunia Dursley would pull a face like no other if an owl came crashing into her house. Shriek and chase it right back out again.

Although Lily couldn’t be sure Petunia wouldn’t just throw out her letter as soon as she saw the handwriting. Sending it through the Muggle post would, at least, give her a better chance.

“I–no. Yes. No.” She was making no sense. “Muggle post would be better, I think…Petunia is…she doesn’t trust magic.” Understatement of a lifetime. How do you wrap up two decades of hate and bitterness and mistrust and jealousy and betrayal and unhealed wounds, deliver in a handful of words? To a stranger? Does Dorcas understand what it’s like to manifest magic early in life and be told it makes you wrong? She used to chase Petunia everywhere, want to be just like her–it stung more than anything, that repeated freak, freak, freak that turned the tables and chased her right back.

“I haven’t written it yet. Can I bring it to you once I have?” Merlin, God, fuck. This letter was easier to think about before it was a reality. Now she actually had to write the thing.

Family was important.

Dorcas knew that even though hers no longer mattered to her, she’d seen what family meant to others in the Order and it certainly was no surprise that they meant something to Lily either, not when she’d seen what the war could cause you to sacrifice. While some of her comrades had lost everything that seemed to matter, in one way or another, Dorcas had thus come out unscathed. Whether that was because she didn’t have much that she had cared about before she came into this war, she wasn’t certain, but it was clear in the way that Lily was acting that it mattered desperately what was going on and what her sister would know.

Still, to not trust magic? Well, it struck a cord and she opened her mouth to ask more questions for a few seconds before biting her tongue and just nodding instead. A private family matter certainly didn’t matter when it came to Dorcas, regardless of what her small involvement might be. “...I’ll figure out how to work that post then, I think that someone at the owlery will likely know.”

“No, of course, that’s okay, you don’t have to give it. to me right now -- it isn’t necessarily a now or never deal,” she said with a small smile. An attempt to be reassuring for a situation that was complex and problematic, something that might make it easier. Easier, as if that was a thing anymore.

[thearabellafigg-deactivated2021]

Date: mid-february, post-census announcement Location: town square Availability: @omg-dorcasmeadowes

Arabella was agitated and it was showing. A few books were by her side but her eyes were not focused on them. Instead she was staring in the void fingers playing with the little skins on her hands. She thought that coming here would help her concentrate, that fresh air would do her good. She had been pacing the interior of her modest home for what seemed like days now, ever since the news of the census reached them. A muggle-born census, as if no one learned from the mistakes of the past. A shadow was seen out of the corner of her eye and it brought the woman back to where she was. Tired eyes looked up and Arabella smiled at Dorcas. “Feels like it’s been an eternity since I last saw you.” Hours felt like days lately and days like weeks. “Sit with me?”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

Dorcas wished she could say that she had a solve or a fix for what was going on. Hell, she would even go for just a small sliver of hope in some kind of letter that she’d found but the world had been eerily quiet as of late. Ever since the letter that she’d handed off to Arabella earlier? Well, Dorcas was at a loss of what to do with her hands except serve pints and sort mail. If there was any kind of indication at all, well... Arabella’s exhaustion seemed to be seeping into her bones and Doe felt it when she entered the cottage, sitting next to her friend. “How are you, love?” she said softly, quirking an eyebrow.

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

hollowedlilies‌:

She blinked. “Oh–really?”

Dorcas agreed after a brief pause, looking like something enigmatic and enchantingly understanding, and Lily could only stare, dumbfounded, her justifications dying in her throat. Dorcas agreed–how could it be that easy? To ask her to slip in a letter, one that could endanger them, maybe, and have the request granted without even knowing what would be in it. Lily thought she was fairly good, by now, at figuring out who might toe the party line and who was willing to branch out, and she’d apparently been wrong about this one. Well, what did she know, anyway. Her mind was addled and her knowledge of the Order stunted by her trauma.

“Thank you,” Lily answered lamely, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I–um.” She cleared her own throat in turn. “My sister–she’s a Muggle. Is that okay?”

Was Dorcas really that involved in everything around her that she’d somehow missed that Lily was either a Half-Blood or a Muggle-Born? Doe wasn’t entirely sure and she wasn’t really sure that she wanted to think that far given the fact that she wasn’t exactly the most friendly individual at Hogwarts; no, if she wanted to be really honest with herself Doe would admit that she had been a selfish, self-involved bitch and more focused on what it meant to further her Quidditch skills than it ever had been for her making friends. After all, Lily was only a year older than she was, she shouldn’t have been so oblivious that she hadn’t known that. 

“I--she’s familiar with owls?” Doe wasn’t entirely sure how most families handled things, but for all she knew, Lily’s family could think t hat now she was just traveling the globe. “Or do you want it to go through the Muggle post to be safe? I can figure it out though.”

[witchbxnes]

omg-dorcasmeadowes‌:

Hearing it out loud was different than feeling that it was coming. Dorcas had known that, but the weight of the words hung in the air as she stared at Amelia for a few long moments before sinking down in a chair.

Alastor would have been where she’d put her money, that the man might be willing to buck whatever tentative peace with Kingsley to maybe see something, even if it was a small group that would inevitably go out. Never in a million years would Doe have put her money on the small woman in front of her. But it didn’t change the fact that she was the one asking and that there was a finality to the fact that this was happening, that there would be some kind of information gathered.

At the very least they would leave knowing that Ottery St Catchpole was eliminated from a list of possibilities where this second location may be, where the Death Eaters were honing in.

Raising her eyes to look at Amelia, she nodded her head. “Frank,” she said softly, nodding her head. Kingsley. The thought popped into her head and she bit back the word before it slipped out, the man wouldn’t dare come on something like this and he might end up having her head for considering to go as well. “Sirius would be good… maybe Pandora in case we have any injured, though I don’t know how good her defense is.”

“Not Pandora. We can’t risk losing our only healer.”

It was already a risk bringing in so many people. She didn’t need to lose the only person who could mend their wounds after a battle. If they got hurt they’d just have to apparate out of there. That had to be a requirement. You had to know how to get the hell out of there fast if things went sideways. This wasn’t the sort of mission for people who couldn’t fend for themselves. 

“Sirius and Frank are good. That’s four. I think Arthur should join. He knows the area well. His home isn’t far from the center of town.” That should be enough. If she trusted them more, Emmeline might have made a good sixth, but she couldn’t let someone come who might turn on them if any death eaters showed up. 

As long as everyone agreed to come, Amelia had her five. Her plan was coming together. Something was finally happening. It was about bloody time. Still, as she scribbled down the other three names on the piece of parchment in front of her, she couldn’t help but think about what Remus had said. They needed a safe place to apparate to. Somewhere other than Godric’s Hollow, just in case.

“Can you apparate? We’ll need to get out of there fast if something goes wrong. We can’t have anyone lagging behind.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

“There’s a good chance that Arthur will probably know what might be out of place from when he was last there, but he has the kids...” Dorcas’ stomach lurched at the thought of those children losing another parent, of someone having to explain to them that their father might not come back from this particular venture. Granted, it was something that was easier than not, it was something that held less risk than some things that they did with the Order, but Arthur felt like it was crossing lines. Though, the same could be said of Frank — Alice didn’t need to have someone else coming to her home and telling her that she’d lost someone else she loved.

“I prefer my broom, but I’m decent with Apparation,” she said softly, running a hand through her hair. “I’m mostly shit at remembering where the wards are here,” Doe joked, raising an eyebrow at Amelia and nodding. It was a risk, this entire idea was a risk if only because there was a likelihood that it could mean that Alastor and Kingsley would end up livid mad (who was Doe kidding, there was no chance that Kingsley wouldn’t be upset with them for risking this, even if it went good). 

No, she certainly agreed with Amelia that this was something that needed to happen, and it needed to happen sooner rather than later, before the Death Eaters had cleaned up anything they’d left, or before they made a bigger mess of things then they already did with Glenda. “Do you want to go snag everyone? I’ll gather a couple things and see if I can nick some potions from Pandora in case we need them.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

Title: of Dittany and of Slipping Out Date: February 3rd Location: Outskirts of Godric’s Hollow Availability: Closed, @pandora-goodlove​

pandora-goodlove‌:

Pandora had every intention of going through the proper channels to leave Godric’s Hollow. Every intention to discuss with Alastor and Kingsley her need to visit London to collect the supplies needed. Of course the men would understand that getting started on Remus’ Wolfsbane was her top priority, and that a conversation or two with trusted colleagues at St Mungo’s could help bring them closer to deciphering Glenda’s broadcast.

But when she saw Dorcas pass the windows of her tent all Should Haves quickly left her mind. Pandora wanted to go to London and she wanted to go tonight. Now. She hurriedly explained her intentions to Xenophilius as she packed a small duffle bag, promising her swift return and kissing her husband deeply. It pained Pandora to leave his side, even for such a short time. But he gently assured her he would be fine. She flew out the door of their tent, hair instantly whipped across her face by the chill wind.

Pandora had lost sight of Dorcas but she knew roughly where it was she entered and exited the Hollow. Sure enough Dorcas was their, preparing herself to leave the wards of safety protecting the village. She waved sheepishly and nodded, face flushed and out of breath it was no wonder Dorcas was asking whether she was okay. “I’m okay.” Pandora signed with a nod and a smile. “I was just wondering, could I hitch a ride to London with you?”

Sometimes she didn’t spend enough time in the Hollow, Dorcas was actually willing to admit that there were days that she avoided the town completely and she didn’t really know what to do with that. Certainly not push herself to be there more, that would be far too hard. The staticness of the owl post and the bustle of the pub was enough to feel like there could be something there, that there possibly could be something that comes up but it also made her want to do more. It didn’t change the fact that she sometimes didn’t spend enough time around the town to consistently remember that Pandora could only sign and there were moments that Dorcas stumbled over the movements.

“It’s –” she paused for a second, trying to think of the movement for fine, and the followup of broom, finally remembering and giving the woman a grateful smile for the patience that she must have built up over the years of people not remembering. “–fine. Broomstick fine?” she signed, biting her lip for a second.

Pandora had helped try to repair the damage after her accident, she’d been the one that finally got her hands pieced back together enough that they were usable but not quite usable to the point that Dorcas had been using them for the better part of her life. It wasn’t the fault of the woman in front of her, moreso the weather and the broom and whatever had happened on the pitch than anything the beautiful woman in front of her could have done or didn’t do. It was solely her that meant she was able to even move her hands anymore and Dorcas owed her a debt of gratitude that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to repay.

[pandora-goodlove]

Pandora froze at the familiar, but in her case oft unused sign for broomstick. Pandora had flown on a broom twice in her life, two anxiety inducing, stomach churning rides during her first year at Hogwarts. She had seen first hand the damage these flying death sticks could cause during her time at St Mungo’s, Dorcas herself was one of Pandora’s patients, Pandora could vividly remember carefully piecing together the bones of Dorcas’ hands after the skele-gro had failed to work, like some demented jigsaw puzzle that was missing several pieces.

Pandora knew she had disappointed Dorcas when she had to break the news that despite how tirelessly she had tried Dorcas’ hands would never be quite the same again, that her Quidditch career was over. Dorcas had never said so, in fact she had always seemed so genuinely grateful that Pandora had tried, but Pandora was sure. How could she not bear resentment towards the Healer that couldn’t heal?

And now here they stood, the only thing standing between Pandora getting to London was this flying twig. She wanted to shake her head and turn, back to the warmth and comfort of her tent, keep her feet firmly planted on solid ground. But she was working now with the frantic urgency she hadn’t felt since Benjy’s death. She nodded slowly, hands mirroring Dorcas. “Broomsticks fine.”

Not fine. Not fine at all. Pandora was screaming internally. Pandora dug deep into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out a small potion vial and a bottle of muggle pills. She shook two into her hand and chased them down with the potion, forcing a smile that felt so much more like a grimace. “I can read lips too… if it’s easier for you.” Pandora told Dorcas, her voice barely above a whisper, her words whipped away by the ferocious wind. “I haven’t flown in a long while.” Pandora confessed. “Thanks for this Dorcas.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

She’d remembered the many times that the Healers had come in and said that the likelihood of her being able to use her hands for much of anything other than pushing things around was a slim possibility, that she probably wouldn’t even be able to write and she likely wouldn’t ever really be able to function as a witch again, let alone a Quidditch player. Pandora was the one that gave Dorcas her life back, whether it looked a little different than what she’d planned originally? Well, Doe hadn’t really cared in the end, that had come much later, she was just grateful that there had been someone that was willing to put forth the painstaking effort to give her some semblance of a life without having someone constantly by her side.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that Pandora might not be okay with brooms, that she might be unable to stand the stick after everything that she said and Doe almost pried when she saw the hesitation flash in her eyes before just nodding and clearing her throat, a pointless action when she wasn’t using her voice. “...we can see if we can Apparate out of here,” Doe signed slowly, trying to get her fingers more familiar with the motions. It certainly wasn’t something that she commonly did, and the gesture to offer to read lips was certainly welcome, a grateful smile on her lips before she nodded. “Thank you — I’m certainly not anywhere near good at that.”

“I don’t know exactly where the wards are that Kingsley put up around the Hollow, we might have to walk a ways to get out, but that’s why I normally fly, it’s easier for me to know where I can come in and out. I promise I’ll bring you back here safe though,” she tried to reassure her. Sometimes it was easy to forget that not everyone liked flying, not everyone had spent their formative years flying in the air more than their feet were on the ground. It was a strange thought to Dorcas and she shoved it back to the edge of her mind before focusing on Pandora. “Are you ready to go?”

[the-shackled-king]

omg-dorcasmeadowes‌:

TITLE: Of Letters and of Sharing DATE: January 29, 1982 LOCATION: meadow outside of Godric’s Hollow AVALIABILITY: closed, Kingsley Shacklebolt/Dorcas Meadowes

She couldn’t just pretend that the world outside of the wards didn’t exist, though she didn’t believe that Kingsley was ever purposely doing that. Dorcas didn’t have it in her to just curl up and error on the side of caution and protect everyone around him; she didn’t feel the need to be included in that particular list, no matter the situation that she might walk herself into. It didn’t make anything easier given what had happened weeks before at the fire.

Merlin, that… Dorcas had tried to avoid dwelling on it, ignoring the fact that she had found herself on more than one occasion at the pub or her flat wishing that she could just go and invade his space again. It was impossible. It wasn’t something that she could even consider allowing herself in the grand scheme of things when she knew that it would complicate matters across the board; and likely create more arguments between them than she’d like to admit. “I think that you are underestimating the people around you and their drive to do something more than stay in this little town with all of these memories, Kingsley. I think it’s different when people are willing to risk their lives for the possibility of people being alive or for the people who may die if this war isn’t ended and that does include me. There’s no way that I can sit back and do nothing now.”

It didn’t make it easy – there was no way to make this particularly easy and there were parts of her that were conflicted, wanting people she cared about to remain safe and alive while the other portion of her was torn to needing to do something more than just sort through mail and suss out information in the pub. There was a desperation in her to stop sitting on her hands and do something; whether it stemmed from the days of Quidditch, the thrill of knowing that even if she didn’t see the Snitch she could control the situation and make the other Seeker believe she had and occupy everything. No, this wasn’t the same and Kingsley wasn’t something that she could manipulate – he wasn’t someone that she would manipulate and that thought had her stomach in knots.

Kingsley had kept his muggle attire on, and it was lucky he had a jacket on, a leather one in fact, because it allowed him to ball up his fists but hide them in the pockets, and try in some small way to release his frustration. The last thing he would ever do was take it out on someone. Moody usually poked and prodded him until he would finally come out with it, and finally let that wall down, that was the nature of their relationship, but Dorcas, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to start building something by revealing his temper. He could feel his nails stinging as it dug into the flesh of his palms. How was this complicated? Why was he the odd one out because his desire was to protect? “You don’t understand,” KIngsley said, turning away from her. 

It was all he could do to keep everything in check. But he couldn’t help imagining more of the Godric’s Hollow massacre, and then it was Dorcas being hurt, Dorcas going to Ottery St Catchpole and being captured, tortured, killed. He shut his eyes, but it made it worse, and then he couldn’t help himself. “I’m underestimating nothing,” Kingsley said, trying to keep his voice calm, but his eyes snapped to hers. “I’ve seen it. I’ve watched some of the best fall to Death Eater wands. They fell like they were nothing, like it was as easy as cutting a puppets strings.” Kingsley was breathing fast as the memories flickered in front of his eyes. “And everyone here thinks it’s so easy to be the one orchestrating this, but I send you to your deaths. How do you think that feels?” He shot the question at her, his hands flying from his pockets to gesture along with it. “That is why I don’t care what you want, whatever you think you can risk, I will do it, and when I die, I won’t sit on anyone’s conscience, like the many deaths I create continue to sit on mine.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

No, she probably didn’t understand what was going on in her head, but she did grasp what it was like to lose people important to you, to have the unknowing questions of what had happened to them and if they might still be out there. DOrcas knew that part of this equation and it didn’t seem as though Kingsley reacted to that kind of unknown the same way that she would be any mean. As much as her and Alastor had butted heads on when to make a move on the few conversations they’d had, her and Kingsley stood firmly on a different side of the fence and it caused a lump in her throat when she thought about how complicated that could get. “If I don’t understand, then make me!” she said, shaking her head for a few seconds.

“You’re underestimating the drive that these people have, you have to know that. This is their families out there with question marks everywhere as to what happened to them or if they might be alive, you’re acting like they can forget about those people and stay inside the safety of these walls though! I don’t understand!” The last thing that she wanted was someone else’s blood on the ground, someone else that wouldn’t be coming back to their home, but the weight that Dorcas felt was different, the reality that if it wasn’t one of them that was defending people it would mean that there were defenseless innocents that would be the ones that would have their blood spilled. That was the nightmare that Dorcas couldn’t live with. “Kingsley, you just... are you defending this group, or are you wanting to protect the Wizarding World? Because if we don’t here, I guarantee that others will do something, and it might not be the right thing.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

hollowedlilies‌:

She’d lost half her brain growing the baby, she used to joke, back when things like that used to be funny. Sometimes it felt that way. Everyone seemed to be so much more sure of their roles in the Order–and of their relationships with each other–than she was. Most of the time she’d been a member of the Order, she’d been pregnant or dealing with a baby, and throwing house parties to get to know people wasn’t really a priority with a war brewing. Now, though, it was embarrassing how often she blanked when it came to people’s names here. Nothing seemed to stick in her head the way it used to. Information slipped out of her mind if she didn’t try hard enough to focus on it. Just more reasons why she was, essentially, dead weight with a baby attached.

The lack of connection to anyone here was really what had drawn her to Dorcas in the first place. Lily needed more than what she had, and she knew Kingsley and Moody might not approve of what she was about to ask for. “The Owlery. I–want to send a letter. To my sister. And I was hoping you could help.” Lily wrung her hands nervously, more than half of her expecting Dorcas to say no.

It wasn’t as though Dorcas was able to say much of anything to question, to the favor that Lily had requested from her. There wasn’t a way that she could have anticipated it whatsoever and it certainly wasn’t something that she’d seen coming. Swallowing hard, Dorcas nodded at the request, clearing her throat for a few seconds to give herself some time to pull her mind back to the woman in front of her.

It was family.

It was family that Lily needed, and wanted, to somehow communicate with the woman. It wasn’t something that she had ever anticipated being asked and maybe she should have, but she still quickly spit out, “Of course.” Dorcas may not talk to her family, there was a good chance that she would never talk to them again after everything that had happened, but if there was a chance that she could make sure that someone else would stay in contact with their family? Well, she was willing to go toe to toe with Moody and Kingsley on something like that. “Just get me the letter and I’ll make sure that we get to her, I promise.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

witchbxnes‌:

“We need to go to Ottery St. Catchpole.”

It was only the second time she’d said it out loud. Only the second time she’d told anyone what she thought their next move should be. Dorcas was hardly the sort she looked toward for discussions of strategy, but Alastor had been unavailable as of late, and she knew Kingsley and Arabella wouldn’t even hear her out. 

She only managed to get a few sentences of her plan out to Alastor before he turned her away. I can’t know about this, he said, neither turning down her plan or encouraging her. Amelia knew what he’d meant. 

“Us, and three or four others. We need to go there, just to look around. We might run into some trouble, but we need to see why it was so important for the death eaters to be skulking around there. At the very least, Glenda had been there. Maybe she left something behind that could be useful. After all, in her broadcast It seemed she knew an awful lot more than we did.” 

Amelia pulled a piece of parchment and a quill from one of the drawers in the long desk they’d been using as a meeting table. She wrote down her name and Dorcas’, leaving space below for a few others. 

“Who else?”

Hearing it out loud was different than feeling that it was coming. Dorcas had known that, but the weight of the words hung in the air as she stared at Amelia for a few long moments before sinking down in a chair.

Alastor would have been where she’d put her money, that the man might be willing to buck whatever tentative peace with Kingsley to maybe see something, even if it was a small group that would inevitably go out. Never in a million years would Doe have put her money on the small woman in front of her. But it didn’t change the fact that she was the one asking and that there was a finality to the fact that this was happening, that there would be some kind of information gathered.

At the very least they would leave knowing that Ottery St Catchpole was eliminated from a list of possibilities where this second location may be, where the Death Eaters were honing in.

Raising her eyes to look at Amelia, she nodded her head. “Frank,” she said softly, nodding her head. Kingsley. The thought popped into her head and she bit back the word before it slipped out, the man wouldn’t dare come on something like this and he might end up having her head for considering to go as well. “Sirius would be good... maybe Pandora in case we have any injured, though I don’t know how good her defense is.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

TITLE: Of Letters and of Sharing DATE: January 29, 1982 LOCATION: meadow outside of Godric’s Hollow AVALIABILITY: closed, Kingsley Shacklebolt/Dorcas Meadowes

the-shackled-king‌:

Kingsley let Dorcas’ words wash over him as he looked away. They caused his ears to lift slightly, as if they had stung. Perhaps it was the abrupt change in tone, or that not so long ago they had been talking to each other very different. This Dorcas however was not the one by the fire. Kingsley shit his eyes briefly, not letting his frustrations escape beyond his own mind. Why would no one understand the difficulty of his position? If he were to let people act on missions he planned their deaths would be blood on his hands. He couldn’t stomach that any longer.

“You think I care what other people want to do?” Kingsley said calmly. He met her eye. “You think this operates because I take into consideration what other people desire to do? We’d have died out long ago if that was how this operated.” He wasn’t trying to be hard, or attempting to belittle her, but he was sure it may come across that way. He was merely tired of defending himself. It was true however. They had gotten this far by having people in charge who had experience in battle, and experience in loss. “I am merely stating that I will not risk them. I am not asking for nothing to happen just that no one else will involve themselves where it is unnecessary. That includes you.” The three words had fallen from his mouth against his will. Those hours by the fire had obviously rooted themselves deep into his mind, and he already knew the issues he was going to face with Dorcas now, and how much he didn’t think he could lose her.

She couldn’t just pretend that the world outside of the wards didn’t exist, though she didn’t believe that Kingsley was ever purposely doing that. Dorcas didn’t have it in her to just curl up and error on the side of caution and protect everyone around him; she didn’t feel the need to be included in that particular list, no matter the situation that she might walk herself into. It didn’t make anything easier given what had happened weeks before at the fire.

Merlin, that... Dorcas had tried to avoid dwelling on it, ignoring the fact that she had found herself on more than one occasion at the pub or her flat wishing that she could just go and invade his space again. It was impossible. It wasn’t something that she could even consider allowing herself in the grand scheme of things when she knew that it would complicate matters across the board; and likely create more arguments between them than she’d like to admit. “I think that you are underestimating the people around you and their drive to do something more than stay in this little town with all of these memories, Kingsley. I think it’s different when people are willing to risk their lives for the possibility of people being alive or for the people who may die if this war isn’t ended and that does include me. There’s no way that I can sit back and do nothing now.”

It didn’t make it easy -- there was no way to make this particularly easy and there were parts of her that were conflicted, wanting people she cared about to remain safe and alive while the other portion of her was torn to needing to do something more than just sort through mail and suss out information in the pub. There was a desperation in her to stop sitting on her hands and do something; whether it stemmed from the days of Quidditch, the thrill of knowing that even if she didn’t see the Snitch she could control the situation and make the other Seeker believe she had and occupy everything. No, this wasn’t the same and Kingsley wasn’t something that she could manipulate -- he wasn’t someone that she would manipulate and that thought had her stomach in knots.

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

TITLE: Of Letters and of Sharing DATE: January 29, 1982 LOCATION: meadow outside of Godric’s Hollow AVALIABILITY: closed, Kingsley Shacklebolt/Dorcas Meadowes

the-shackled-king‌:

It struck Kingsley in that moment how little he had seen of Dorcas lately. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps she had been avoiding him, but he banished it. Now was not the time to allow thoughts of that nature to cloud his mind or his judgement. He listened to her carefully however, letting the words wash over him, and drawing his own conclusions, or in this case, having them mostly confirmed. He had for some time believed there was another safe space. He had no hard evidence to back up this suspicion and occasionally wondered whether it was simply because he refused to believe that many of them were gone.

“I suspected something, both Moody and I have actually,” Kingsley said, biting his lip in thought as he looked back out over the green hills. The last part wasn’t entirely true. Moody had acknowledged this theory of his long ago, but was always quick to tell him that they needed to focus on what they had in front of them, not who may be hidden. “More and more I am leaning toward a scoutting mission,” Kingsley said, reluctantly taking his eyes back off the view, but he found the same kind of beauty once his eyes met Dorcas’. He realised his error quickly. “A lone mission,” he said hastily. He did not want to mislead anyone that his views had changed, particularly in light of the recent change of policy with blood status at the Ministry. He would not sacrifice another person. If there were missions to do, he would do them.

Glenda’s message had glaringly obvious issues with it, the biggest ones being the crypticness of the message in and of itself. What Dorcas wanted to know were the certainties, not the blanks in the large puzzle that seemed to be ever growing the longer that this war went on. This letter didn’t fill in many more details, except confirming the fact that there was possibly something more out there than what they had in Godric’s Hollow. Maybe it was even something that was more aggressive in their tactics to tackle the Death Eaters and the destruction that they were doing. After all, the Order had long passed by their recuperation timespan. None of that really made the decision for her on what she was going to say to the man in front of her, and neither had the night in front of the fire.

“There’s a reason some people wanted to do something more than just sit on their asses and hide in this little town.” The words might not have been meant to come out so blunt (they weren’t meant to, truly), but Dorcas was nonetheless frustrated by the fact that he still didn’t seem to understand what it was that people wanted to do. That Moody had wanted to do and herself included. No, she just needed to do more than sit on her hands and wait for people to fall in their laps. “Kingsley, people aren’t just going to sit back and do nothing if they know about this letter, not when it’s a light of hope.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

witchbxnes‌:

“You seem to fit that bill.” 

Amelia would be lying if she said she had a good first impression of Dorcas Meadowes. Months ago, when Arabella introduced her as their newest member, Amelia couldn’t help but sound off about how having a celebrity among the Order’s ranks would only endanger the low profile they were trying to keep. Amelia thought it even worse when Dorcas started leaving Godric’s Hollow to go out on runs for merlin knows what. 

But in the time since the Order had relocated, and since Dorcas found that letter, she’d proved useful, and as far as Amelia knew, she still hadn’t blown her cover, which seemed damn near impossible as a former quidditch star. It’d become clear to Amelia that Dorcas had more to offer than she’d first afforded her, and perhaps she could be useful yet again.

“You think you’d be up for another run? Something a bit more dangerous this time than just picking up cigarettes and sorting through mail?”

It wasn’t as though Dorcas had ever thought that people would welcome her with open arms when she’d joined the Order, to a degree she was a known entity walking in with her public image being the way that it was. People thought that they knew all that she could be, and if it had been a few years earlier? Well, they would have been more than correct; it didn’t really matter what Dorcas had thought at the time. Certainly she couldn’t have blended around the edges then like she managed to now, she couldn’t pull attention directly to her and away from something that needed to be avoided.

No, Dorcas would have been a massive mistake to bring on to a project like this, a mission meant to shift things for people.

“I mostly fit where I’m needed,” she said with a shrug, giving the woman a smile to help placate the situation. She’d never got the impression that Amelia was overly fond of her, granted... she was pretty damn sure that there were a number of Order members that were leery of her. It wasn’t as though she was a shining example of what is right or the most logical person for Arabella to bring on.

“As long as you’re not having me light myself on fire, I’m here for whatever is needed.” Though her eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. “What was running through your mind?”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

witchbxnes‌:

Amelia heard a click as the cottage’s heavy door swung open. These homes were so old it was almost impossible to do any sneaking around. It was almost comforting though. At least if the death eaters attacked, maybe a few of them would hear the enemy coming. 

She was relieved to see a familiar mess of curly hair. At this point, she’d almost come to associate Dorcas with cigarettes. Another run, another few packs of smokes, and she was running low. Amelia was relieved when Dorcas pulled a few out of her bag. She usually did supply runs herself; Alastor knew better than to stand between Amelia and nicotine, but it was nice to have someone other than herself bringing in a steady supply. 

“I don’t hide it because I’m ashamed. I hide it because I’m up to nearly half a pack a day, and I don’t feel like sharing my supply,” she laughed. There was some truth to that. Although Dorcas was right about her taking a moment to herself. 

The war hadn’t changed Amelia much at all. She’d always kept her emotions private, except for with Edgar. There was no use in that; he could always read her like a book. Still, there was a certain responsibility that came with serving on the Wizengamot, and with being one of the few vocal supporters of an entire group of disenfranchised people. Amelia never minded though. She was used to being the strong one, the one who did what needed to be done, no matter the cost.

“I’m just thinking about the letter,” she said, putting her cigarette out on the floor before lighting another. “That, and Glenda’s message. Might be smart to send a few scouts to Ottery. People who can cover their tracks and hide if need be. Last thing we need are some amateurs blowing our cover.”

Dorcas tended towards being a mess. She knew this better than anyone, but it didn’t change the fact that it was a little bit easier when other people were flustered. The only place that she had ever truly been organized and put together was on the Quidditch field, and that had certainly ended a long time previous. Instead it had left her in the Order, something that she likely never would have considered if she was still playing -- blessings in disguise, or something to that effect from what the Muggles would say. 

“Suppose that there are worse habits that you could indulge in,” she said with a shrug, though she’d put money down on the fact that even if Amelia had something going on that was in over her head, the general population of the Order might not pick up on it until far too late.

No, Dorcas was probably lucky that the woman had even asked for help to procure the packages of cigarettes even, let alone anything else. “You could just tell everyone to buggar off and get their own.”

She wasn’t going to lie if asked if she had perked up when the idea was thrown out about scouts -- she knew that there was a good chance that Alastor would be all for it, though Kingsley would be more reserved about what to do. No, Dorcas would jump at the ability to go forward and see if there was any kind of truth to this, or if it was all just fallacies or the potential of a trap hidden within a sliver of hope. Dorcas leaned towards the fact that it was likely just at trap than anything else, but it also wasn’t her call -- though... she knew that she hd a hell of a lot less to lose in this war than many of the others. 

“I think the last thing that we need is anyone blowing our cover,” she said softly, shrugging her shoulders. “You probably just need people that can blend in decently without seeming like they’re doing something they shouldn’t.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

Title: of Dittany and of Slipping Out Date: February 3rd Location: Outskirts of Godric’s Hollow Availability: Closed, @pandora-goodlove​

pandora-goodlove‌:

Pandora had every intention of going through the proper channels to leave Godric’s Hollow. Every intention to discuss with Alastor and Kingsley her need to visit London to collect the supplies needed. Of course the men would understand that getting started on Remus’ Wolfsbane was her top priority, and that a conversation or two with trusted colleagues at St Mungo’s could help bring them closer to deciphering Glenda’s broadcast.

But when she saw Dorcas pass the windows of her tent all Should Haves quickly left her mind. Pandora wanted to go to London and she wanted to go tonight. Now. She hurriedly explained her intentions to Xenophilius as she packed a small duffle bag, promising her swift return and kissing her husband deeply. It pained Pandora to leave his side, even for such a short time. But he gently assured her he would be fine. She flew out the door of their tent, hair instantly whipped across her face by the chill wind.

Pandora had lost sight of Dorcas but she knew roughly where it was she entered and exited the Hollow. Sure enough Dorcas was their, preparing herself to leave the wards of safety protecting the village. She waved sheepishly and nodded, face flushed and out of breath it was no wonder Dorcas was asking whether she was okay. “I’m okay.” Pandora signed with a nod and a smile. “I was just wondering, could I hitch a ride to London with you?”

Sometimes she didn’t spend enough time in the Hollow, Dorcas was actually willing to admit that there were days that she avoided the town completely and she didn’t really know what to do with that. Certainly not push herself to be there more, that would be far too hard. The staticness of the owl post and the bustle of the pub was enough to feel like there could be something there, that there possibly could be something that comes up but it also made her want to do more. It didn’t change the fact that she sometimes didn’t spend enough time around the town to consistently remember that Pandora could only sign and there were moments that Dorcas stumbled over the movements.

“It’s --” she paused for a second, trying to think of the movement for fine, and the followup of broom, finally remembering and giving the woman a grateful smile for the patience that she must have built up over the years of people not remembering. “--fine. Broomstick fine?” she signed, biting her lip for a second.

Pandora had helped try to repair the damage after her accident, she’d been the one that finally got her hands pieced back together enough that they were usable but not quite usable to the point that Dorcas had been using them for the better part of her life. It wasn’t the fault of the woman in front of her, moreso the weather and the broom and whatever had happened on the pitch than anything the beautiful woman in front of her could have done or didn’t do. It was solely her that meant she was able to even move her hands anymore and Dorcas owed her a debt of gratitude that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to repay.

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

witchbxnes‌:

date: february 10, 1982 location: war council cottage status: open

It was early when Amelia woke; the sun had only just begun to peek in through her ice covered windows. Most of the Order preferred living in the tents at the edge of town, but no matter how insulated they insisted they were, Amelia found it silly to live like vagabonds when there were plenty of cottages to house them all. She had plenty of her own ghosts to be afraid of; the ones that haunted this town made no difference. 

She reached out from under the covers for the pack of cigarettes she’d been hoarding in the drawer in her nightstand. Most people snuck out of Godric’s Hollow in hopes of finding their loved ones, or following up on a foolish lead they swore would help them win the war. Amelia knew better. The only thing she crossed the wards for were cigarettes. Everything else she needed to win the war was right here in Godric’s Hollow, as long as the Order got its act together. "Fuck,” she muttered. The pack was empty. She’d been hoping to stay in bed a little bit longer. A smoke and a few more hours of sleep might help drown out the words that kept circling her mind. Two letters, no more than two hundred words between them. The first, was hers and hers alone to bear. The second provided some hope, if she could figure out what it meant. 

Amelia’s chance at sleep was lost, but she at least knew where she could find more cigarettes. She’d left a pack under a floor board in the war council cottage for when things got especially tense, which had been often lately. Amelia threw on some boots and the warmest jacket she could find before leaving her cottage. She walked through the center of town as quickly as she could, praying no one else was up this early. The last thing she needed was someone asking her, well, anything at this hour. Luckily, she made it to the war council cottage unseen, or at least unbothered. 

Amelia pushed the large desk at the front of the room back a bit, before waving her wand over one of the floor boards. Thank Merlin, they were still there. After prying the pack out from underneath the board, Amelia plopped down against the wall, pulled out one of the cigarettes and lit it on the spot. She couldn’t risk being seen again, and she needed to take the edge off now.

date: february 10, 1982 location: war council cottage status: Amelia and Dorcas

There wasn’t much that Dorcas could do these days except her job, except for the fact that she could drive herself mad thinking about all of the possibilities of things that could happen or the what ifs on whether or not the situation cold have been different if they’d done something different. Dorcas knew that but yet it was something that kept her up some nights, the nights that she made it to Godric’s Hollow. Mostly she worried that everyone had what they needed, the things that she was able to at least get when she was out of the small town. For some it was answers, others it was teas, for Amelia it seemed to be that when Dorcas could make it into Muggle London, cigarettes were the desired commodity. 

It’d been over a month since she’d gone into London outside of Diagon Alley, though it had certainly been intentional that she’d found herself roaming around in Hyde Park, trying to clear the thoughts of her mind out and the worries that seemed to weigh everyone down from this war. They’d sat in the bottom of her napsack for a few days before she’d come back through the wards, roaming the street to try to figure out which place it was that Amelia was lurking around in again before seeing some movement in the cottage that housed the war council, when you could get all members in one place.

She knocked on the door first, not wanting to completely interrupt a train of thought before pushing the door open and chuckling when she spotted Amelia with a cigarette in her mouth. “You know you don’t really have to hide that, or hide that you’re taking a few moments to yourself even,” she said softly, digging to the bottom of her bag and pulling out a couple packs and setting them on the table. “I figured you could use those at some point. How are you doing though?”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

the-shackled-king‌:

She was right. She was absolutely 100% right. This wasn’t the place at all. How had he neglected his duty so much to end up in this position. He was on the brink of a spiral, but then she smiled, and suddenly he remembered exactly why he had neglected his duty. Her. He gave her a smile himself, feeling calm, and radiating that feeling. He leant back on his hands, very aware that she was still sitting on him. “Sometimes the best place isn’t always the right place,” he said with a low chuckle. “Still, I understand. Would you like me to walk you to your tent?” Somehow, he really did feel calm, and he knew he shouldn’t, he should be worried. What would Alastor say? Arabella even.

Over the months she hadn’t been able to really interpret what it was that was running through Kingsley’s head. He was quieter and a hell of a lot more peaceful than she was used to and certainly more patient than just about anyone that she had seen. Still, she swallowed and looked at him for a few long moments, clearing her throat and shaking her head; she shouldn’t probably allow them to cross anymore lines then they already did. “No, I’m sure you have some other things to take are of -- I’ll be okay. Thank you though.”

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

the-shackled-king‌:

He sat for a while lost in his daze. He wasn’t kissing her, but there was something about the feel of her skin on his, her forehead resting on his, and he kept his eyes closed. Then, like a loud gong, the world, their situation, everything just came flooding back. The haze that had been over him was fighting to lift itself. “I…” he tried to speak, but words, for the first time in a while, failed him. He’d felt a lot of indecision lately, but nothing like this. Part of him just wanted to start kissing her again, and another part wanted to apologise, for he knew this must be her fault. He compensated by smiling, albeit slightly nervously. “I feel I should apologise,” he said in his deep soothing voice. He looked up at her, meeting her eye, and the worry just vanished. “I don’t want to however.”

She wasn’t even entirely sure what it was that she was supposed to say; something, that was for sure. Dorcas wasn’t supposed to be doing this and she certainly wasn’t supposed to be lingering there; every instinct was telling her that she desperately needed get out of this situation and yet the fact that Kingsley wasn’t the one pulling back immediately and backtracking had her hesitating. Regardless, the not quite apology had her lips curving back into a smile before she nodded, licking her lips as she tried to figure out what even was the appropriate response. “I--still should probably go, this isn’t exactly the best place for this.” Or time, though she certainly wasn’t going to complain.

[omg-dorcasmeadowes]

hollowedlilies‌:

@omg-dorcasmeadowes

Moving with purpose across the streets of Godric’s Hollow was enough to attract attention, so Lily tried to make her gait leisurely, as if walking around aimlessly in the late afternoon was a habit of hers. She was so self-conscious these days. Assuming everyone in the town was paying close attention to everything she did, analyzing her actions, judging her behavior. Well, what reason did they have not to do so? She was a widow and newly single mother, all her friends dead or missing or undergoing severe trauma of their own. She had no one to turn to anymore and she was responsible for a toddler’s health and happiness. She’d be keeping a close eye on herself if she were them, too.

But today she didn’t want anyone paying any attention to her. “Going for a walk” was what she’d told Remus when she left Harry with him. Let them assume what they wanted; she was hoping not having Harry with her would make this easier.

Ah, there she was–Dorcas, the one they said had intercepted that letter. Lily approached her, abruptly nervous enough that her voice stuck in her throat. “Hi–Dorcas, right? I’m Lily.” If they’d met before, she couldn’t in good faith remember; most of the last six months was a blur to her. “I had a question about…your job.” Merlin, could she be any more awkward about this?

Dorcas hadn’t really met Lily, though she was pretty sure that she’d been in the year below her at Hogwarts, it hadn’t really mattered to her at the time and she figured that most of the people that she knew at Hogwarts wouldn’t really calculate into her life once she had finished -- once she was spending her life focused on Quidditch. Everything had changed since then more than a few times over and it seemed as though that was going to continue for a long while. And she knew enough to know that the changes that Dorcas had experienced were nothing compared to what Lily Potter was going through either. 

Still, she hadn’t expected the newly single mother to approach her, and Doe hadn’t had a chance to see if there was anything that the woman needed from outside of Godric’s Hollow (though she was certain that Kingsley was taking care of a good portion of that for her anyways, sometimes it was just nice to have a butterbeer every once in a while). “My... job, which one?” she said softly, giving her a gentle smile. “I mean, obviously the Order, but at the owlery or the one at the pub?”

Still, she didn’t look near as exhausted as Doe was sure she’d be if she was raising a child alone -- it was miraculous though, the support that the woman had garnered around her, but given how the Marauders were in school, Doe shouldn’t have been all that surprised that they were enveloping Lily in the absence of James.