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The words in her Charms book flew right over her head and the hushed murmur in the Gryffindor common room did nothing to help her concentrate. Dorcas squeezed her eyes shut as she repeated the same line she has been trying to memorise for the past half hour, but continued to fail. Her mind wondered, her brain refused to cooperate, constantly telling her to stop worrying about the exams and to start worrying about what really mattered – the inevitable war.

Maeve, who was seated beside her on the floor, leaning against the sofa, had given up trying to study long ago, and was now reading the Daily Prophet with stark concentration. One of the Gryffindors had brought a few copies of the newspaper, and they were being circulated around the room as everyone flipped the pages to look for any news on Voldemort. Dorcas, however, chose to ignore it. Thinking about the death eaters always made her stomach twist painfully.

Their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had gone missing. It wasn't as surprising as it should have been given the fact that the position was supposedly cursed, and they have been having new teachers every year since first year. But the manner of disappearance was new, terrifying. Many of the students had reported that the teacher had been acting strange for days, normally taking classes one minute, and erupting into mindless blabber the next. Dumbledore had instructed him to take a week off from work and visit home, but he had refused, choosing to stay at the castle. Then one morning, he just disappeared.

Copies of the Daily Prophet were being shipped to Hogwarts as more and more students had written for daily subscription. Maeve too had sent them a letter so that she would be receiving a copy each morning from now on. A few people have brought radios from home, and it was becoming a common sight for a small group of students to huddle around the radio at particular times, sitting in eery silence, holding their breaths and fearing about hearing the name of one of their loved ones.

Dorcas finally conceded and closed her book, before drawing her knees closer to her and curling into a ball. Out of habit, she made to tuck her hair behind her, as it always managed to slip past her shoulders. But then she remembered that her hair was no longer curly, at least not for another week or so. Silver had done a remarkable job in altering her hair. The curls were pulled tight, so that her brown hair was sleek and straight, much longer than it has ever been. She enjoyed having hair like this, as it was much easier to look after, although she had to admit she missed her curls. Silver had even dyed her hair a little, so that the brown colour gradually changed to red at the tips.

Maeve huffed beside her, dropping the Daily Prophet aggressively on the floor. "Can you believe it?" she exclaimed. "Not a word about our Professor. You would think he should at least deserve to be written about in the papers so that people would know to keep a lookout."

"I guess they just want to prevent a panic," muttered Dorcas, closing her eyes. She was in no way eager to talk about it, but knowing Maeve, she would have to.

"Well, don't you think it's better to keep everyone updated so that they wouldn't be completely unprepared when the war starts? The way the Prophet is acting, it almost seems like You-Know-Who doesn't even exist."

Dorcas opened her eyes to glance at her friend. Her use of the word when as opposed to if hasn't skipped her attention, though she decided not to focus on that for the moment. "You really think there's going to be a war?" she asked in a small voice.

Maeve pressed her lips. "There has to be. There's no other way that You-Know-Who is going to back down. People are going to fight back. It's normal."

Dorcas scooted closer to her, feeling cold all of a sudden. "What are we going to do?"

"We'll fight," she answered without an ounce of doubt in her voice.

Dorcas wondered how she did it. How was she so impassive about the war? The thought of fighting in a war, raising her wand to fight death eaters who were cruel ruthless beings, the thought of pushing her whole life, her dreams, her aspirations behind her and risk her life to fight for a cause was truly, utterly terrifying to her. A sudden shiver ran down her spine and she hugged her knees close to her, all of a sudden craving the presence of her mother near her.

Empty Gold • d.meadowesWhere stories live. Discover now