Empty Gold • d.meadowes

-30-

Dorcas's hair has somewhat returned to its curly state, although it hasn't become as fully voluminous as it used to be. But as she continued stirring the potion, causing dense fumes to rise into the air, she could see it wouldn't be long before her hair would be fully back to normal.

She wished she had tied it up.

But there was nothing she could do now as the potion in front of her needed constant stirring, without which it would lose its consistency and perhaps turn as hard as cement, or if she was unlucky, explode into flames. She didn't know the outcome, but from what Professor Slughorn had warned, she could guess it would be something highly undesirable.

With only two weeks left for NEWTs to start, their classes have been called off to allow the students to revise on their own. A room in the dungeons with rows of cauldrons lined up in tables, has been made accessible to the students to allow them to come in and practise making potions whenever they wanted. Dorcas suddenly began to wish Juliet was here. They had practised potion making in here a few times together, but after she had snapped unfairly at her the other day, Dorcas had resorted to avoiding her.

She felt terrible about her behaviour. Juliet didn't deserve being yelled at like that. Dorcas was evidently annoyed by her insistence that there was something between her and Cillian, but nothing could justify her behaviour. Juliet didn't know that Dorcas was lesbian, she didn't know that she has been head over heels for her since fourth year, she didn't know that there was only one person who could possibly have a place in Dorcas's heart.

She didn't know. And she never would.

Dorcas wanted to scream at the unfairness.

Perhaps she could tolerate watching Juliet kiss another boy if circumstances were different. If she were a boy, and if she had confessed to her, and if she had told her that she didn't feel the same way about her, she could move on and perhaps find someone else. But the circumstances were against her. She couldn't confess. She couldn't tell her that she liked girls and take the risk of Juliet being disgusted by her. She couldn't take the idea of Juliet turning her back on her.

Dorcas felt that it would be more self-respectful if she came out to Juliet and told her everything she felt. If she didn't, she would be grasping onto someone who would quite possibly hate her if she knew the truth. For her own sake, she should tell Juliet everything.

But she couldn't. And she wouldn't. Dorcas was a Gryffindor, but she knew she didn't have the courage of facing Juliet and telling her the truth. She didn't have the courage of finding out if she would cease being her friend if she told her. The picture she had painted of her was beautiful, with talents and flaws and everything that made Juliet who she was.

But there was one thing that lacked. The details behind her eyes.

Dorcas didn't know how she would look at her if she knew that she was gay. And that particular detail would always pick at her, prod her hands, tell her mockingly, She will hate you if she knows. Her hand itched to put in the last details, but she held them back. What her eyes looked like currently were beyond breathtaking, and she didn't want to find out what was beyond them in fear of completely destroying the painting.

"You should have tied your hair."

Dorcas jumped up with a yelp as someone moved her hair from front of her and pulled it back, before tying it into a rather messy knot. It was Cillian.

"And, I'm afraid you have messed up your potion."

She looked into the cauldron. Indeed, the liquid has turned pitch black, bubbling like boiling tar. A high pitched whistle came out of the potion, drawing the attention of the other people in the room. She may have stirred it a little more than necessary.