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Just as Cillian had suggested, they didn't let the incident die. Within the next day, three quarters of Hogwarts was in an uproar.

Mary's friends were adamant about getting justice, and they worked carefully in spreading the word so as not to let any rumours cloud people's judgement. The four Gryffindors, who were notorious for their pranks and mischiefs, walked proudly through the castle as their work was passed on to the rest of the students, who took every opportunity they got to punish the Slytherins in their own unique way. The stink of dungbombs wafting out of the Slytherin dungeons was becoming a common occurrence, and the teachers were seen to turn a blind eye when enchanted paper planes swooped through the air to land on an unsuspecting Slytherin's desk, before erupting into harmless flames that required a special spell to be extinguished. The culprit would usually stall, and refuse to say the spell unless the Slytherin apologised for what had happened to Mary.

As was the custom of all good things, these protests against the Slytherins didn't last long. Mary returned to Hogwarts, looking pale and exhausted, like a candle inside her has simply stopped burning. Casualties in both the muggle and wizarding worlds continued to increase – many students have even been pulled out of school by their parents. Mulciber was given detentions every night for as long as he was a student of Hogwarts – a decision that was met with instant uproar. Although Dumbledore provided no explanation to this, it was clear that he wanted to keep the dangers enclosed inside the castle for as long as he could, rather than let it roam free. Not everyone understood this however, and protests continued for a while until that too, died down.

As if people weren't dying everyday and Voldemort wasn't growing stronger day by day, gathering more and more followers – as regular as clockwork, the exams drew nearer. The announcement of the exams during one dinner at the Great Hall was met with gasps and groans, and Dorcas herself felt surprised. With everything going on, her NEWTs were pushed to the back of her mind. But when flowers blossomed in the school grounds and welcomed the annual exams along with spring, the castle grew quieter and students once again returned to isolation, burying themselves in books and foot long parchment scrolls.

Dorcas entered the Great Hall one afternoon with Cillian. They were returning from Arithmancy, an elective that Maeve hadn't opted to take, and that Silver had dropped after OWLs. It was during these Arithmancy classes that she had first talked to Cillian, although their relationship had been strictly formal. Now she was glad that they were becoming friends, for she no longer had to get bored learning about numbers.

They split ways once they entered the Great Hall, and when she went over to the Gryffindor table to join Maeve, she was met with a peculiar look. "What's got your knickers in a twist?" she asked as she poured herself a goblet of orange juice.

"We need to talk," said Maeve, still staring at her. "About Cillian."

Dorcas frowned. It wasn't what she had expected. "What's there to talk about?"

"A lot." And with that, she returned to her lunch, refusing to talk about it further.

They had no class after lunch, although they did have loads of homework and Dorcas has been planning to get a progress on them during the free time at the library. But with Maeve suddenly acting strange, it seemed like she had to skip for now.

Not that she was complaining.

Maeve grabbed her hand as soon as they were out of the Great Hall and began to drag her through the castle. With a sigh, Dorcas complied. "I can walk, you know?" she muttered once, but Maeve didn't seem to hear her.

She dragged her across the Entrance Hall and in a minute they were in the Hogwarts grounds. Only a few people were around, for most have chosen to stay in the castle and prepare for the upcoming exams. Dorcas wished she was one of those people.

They went to the Black Lake and sat down on the edge, folding their legs underneath them. The water was stagnant and pure, reflecting the blue of the sky. Here and there ripples appeared that spread out for a while before slowly dispersing into nothingness. Dorcas watched the scenery quietly.

Finally Maeve decided to open her mouth, bringing her dark hair to let it hang in front of her left shoulder.

"Okay," she began. "Tell me what is going on between you and Cillian."

Dorcas was genuinely confused. "We are friends," she said slowly, staring at her best friend. "I'm not going to ditch you like Silver, don't worry."

Maeve groaned at her words. "Dorcas, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm not that selfish." She paused and looked at her, as though weighing her words. "Tell me. You like girls, don't you? Only girls?"

It all suddenly became clear to her, why Maeve has been acting weird around Cillian, why she has been giving her odd looks nowadays. Now that she thought about it, she has really been very close to Cillian for a few days.

She laughed, which she hoped would help to reassure Maeve. "Cillian and I are friends, nothing more. And yes, I do like girls, and only girls. There's nothing going on between us."

Maeve didn't seem to be convinced. "Well, if I ask him, I'm sure I'll get a different answer."

"What do you mean?"

"I think that Cillian fancies you," she said, staring warily at her, as though afraid of what her reaction may be. "I think he had fancied you for a long time. Silver told me how he used to stare at you longingly in Arithmancy class." She paused and scrutinised her for a moment. "Now if you like boys as well as girls, I have nothing more to say. But as you just told me, you are only attracted to women, which complicates things. The more you hang out with him, the more he will think that you are interested in him, and that wouldn't be a good thing to do."

Dorcas remained silent, for she was stunned at the load of information that was dumped all at once on her. She wanted to refute, but a lot of things suddenly made sense – how Cillian often touched her shoulders or her fingers, how he sometimes went into momentary bouts of silence as she spoke to him, how she sometimes caught him staring at her. She had never thought much about these gestures, dismissing them as mere quirks. But now she could see an uncanny resemblance between his actions and how she acted around Juliet.

She wet her lips, feeling an odd sense of nausea coming on her. "Should I – should I stop hanging out with him?" she asked in a whisper.

"No, don't do that," said Maeve, holding her arms. "He's a good person. Talk to him. Tell him you're not interested, that it has all been a misunderstanding on your part, and that you're sorry. I'm sure he will understand."

Dorcas suddenly began to sweat. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and the surroundings seemed to spin around her. She was panicking.

"What if – what if he asks me why I don't like him? What if he finds out that I am … lesbian?" The last word came out in a whisper, hardly audible. But Maeve understood, she pulled her into a hug and ran her hand through her hair soothingly.

"No, honey, he doesn't have to find out," she said softly. "Not unless you want him to. People have plenty of reasons to not be interested in someone. And guess what? You don't even need a reason. Do you really think all the girls here are head over heels for him? No. There's nothing to fear. Just tell him you only see him as a friend. That's all."

Her words, though comforted her, couldn't stop the panic fully. She was still breathing heavily. The idea of people finding out that she was a poof, that she was one of them, terrified her more than anything else, more than even Voldemort. She had only ever come out to Maeve and Silver, and her mother. She couldn't imagine telling anyone else, couldn't imagine the look of fear and disgust in people's faces as they looked at her.

Dorcas would rather face Voldemort in a duel than have the world know about her.

"Dorcas, breathe," Maeve continued to speak soothingly to her, helping her get herself under control. "You have nothing to fear. You will tell him only if you want him to know. But if you don't want anyone to know, they won't find out. It's fully under your control."

"It scares me," she whispered.

"I know. And I'm sorry. The world is cruel. It doesn't deserve someone as pure as you."

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baby dorc :(

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