Easter Eggs, Part 2
Five down, twelve to go.
TEA AND APATHY
Minerva remembers explaining gently to sixteen-year-old Severus over tea and watercress sandwiches that Sirius cannot be expelled for attempted murder, because McNair would behead Lupin, Sirius's weapon. She recalls saying that Dumbledore's arrangement protects Severus too; in revenge, he cursed Potter and Black with Crucio…and he's escaped Azkaban.
Now Snape blatantly favours students from his House. He encourages arrogant egotism, permitting them to escape just punishment for offenses that Gryffindors suffer for doubly.
He cannot punish Black or Lupin now; he cannot help his outraged younger self.
But he can support Slytherins in a world where the rules favour Gryffindors.
***
DORCAS
(A/N--Dorcas Meadowes is mentioned in OotP. We know nothing of her looks or her house; all we know is that she was a member of the first Order, and that she was killed by Voldemort personally some time prior to Halloween 1981.)
Dorcas Meadowes was nothing special.
She was a member of the first Order, a plump Ravenclaw with a round, agreeable face. Her chief value to the Order lay in her genius for finding unsuspected countercurses.
Dorcas was useful. And the other Order members were grateful, in a vague, tepid way. It was hard to be enthusiastic about a researcher, no matter how able, when others were risking their lives--and often dying--in battle.
But Peter saw more.
He liked her short dark hair that glistened a warm brown in sunlight. He liked her mischievous brown eyes that shone with pleasure when she saw him. He liked her infectious laugh and her low, husky voice. He liked her sharp mind and her quick wit, and how, when they debated current issues, she never backed down, never once kept silent when she thought she was right.
Dorcas, for her part, found much to like in Peter as well--the awe and wonder in his pale blue eyes whenever she glanced at him, the slight stammer that showed he'd been carried away by the intensity of his feelings once again. She liked his practicality and his logic; she adored his passion for reading. She was moved by the solemn, gentle care he gave to tortured, injured and dying.
Most of all, she liked his smile--not the good-humoured, hail-fellow-well-met grin he used for public consumption, but the private smile only she seemed able to surprise out of him, the smile that briefly lit his face with astonished joy.
It was Dorcas he turned to with the news of his treason--not the friends whom he feared would kill him out of righteous wrath. It was Dorcas who held him tightly as he stared into nothingness, his face burning with shame, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to describe the unspeakable.
Going to Dumbledore was unacceptable. Though Peter said nothing, Dorcas knew that he could not bear the idea of beseeching Dumbledore to free him from slavery; it would be no more than exchanging one owner for another. She knew that no matter how hard it was, no matter how much pain and effort it cost him, Peter needed to free himself.
Dorcas never once considered that she not help him do so.
She found spells of unbinding--spells that sorely weakened the Dark Mark--fairly quickly. It was not long before the bond enslaving Peter to Voldemort began to weaken as well.
It was unfortunate that Voldemort, like Peter, could feel the bond weakening.
Slaves who attempted to break free needed to be taught a lesson.
The Dark Lord did not punish Peter. He punished Dorcas. And he took his time.
Ages before the Dark Lord's wrath against her was slaked, Dorcas Meadowes ceased to be human. Mercifully, the thing that had been Dorcas screamed itself into insanity before Voldemort wearied of the harsh howls being torn from its de-evolved throat.
Peter was forced to watch.
He was not permitted to escape into madness. Voldemort saw to that.
The grotesque remains were found by Mad-Eye Moody, along with certain scraps of information which told him that Voldemort was the killer. He and Dumbledore decided not to tell the rest of the Order what had happened to Dorcas; it would be bad for morale.
Most of the Order members simply assumed that Dorcas had been slain with the Killing Curse. They mourned her at the funeral with formal indifference, and speculated idly about her death over the funeral baked meats, and went on.
Peter did not join in the speculation. He lost interest in eating, and lost weight as well. His blue eyes grew clouded and dull, and now and then his hands shook while performing the simplest tasks.
He said nothing. He dared not. His first refusal of Voldemort had cost his sisters' lives; his attempt to break free had cost him his love.
Who else would die, if he spoke again?
Few people noticed that Peter was not himself. Those who did presumed he was sick, and that he would soon recover. No one connected it in any way to overwhelming grief...or overwhelming guilt.
After all, it was only Dorcas.
And Dorcas was nothing special.
***
TEA AND APATHY
Minerva remembers explaining gently to sixteen-year-old Severus over tea and watercress sandwiches that Sirius cannot be expelled for attempted murder, because McNair would behead Lupin, Sirius's weapon. She recalls saying that Dumbledore's arrangement protects Severus too; in revenge, he cursed Potter and Black with Crucio…and he's escaped Azkaban.
Now Snape blatantly favours students from his House. He encourages arrogant egotism, permitting them to escape just punishment for offenses that Gryffindors suffer for doubly.
He cannot punish Black or Lupin now; he cannot help his outraged younger self.
But he can support Slytherins in a world where the rules favour Gryffindors.
***
DORCAS
(A/N--Dorcas Meadowes is mentioned in OotP. We know nothing of her looks or her house; all we know is that she was a member of the first Order, and that she was killed by Voldemort personally some time prior to Halloween 1981.)
Dorcas Meadowes was nothing special.
She was a member of the first Order, a plump Ravenclaw with a round, agreeable face. Her chief value to the Order lay in her genius for finding unsuspected countercurses.
Dorcas was useful. And the other Order members were grateful, in a vague, tepid way. It was hard to be enthusiastic about a researcher, no matter how able, when others were risking their lives--and often dying--in battle.
But Peter saw more.
He liked her short dark hair that glistened a warm brown in sunlight. He liked her mischievous brown eyes that shone with pleasure when she saw him. He liked her infectious laugh and her low, husky voice. He liked her sharp mind and her quick wit, and how, when they debated current issues, she never backed down, never once kept silent when she thought she was right.
Dorcas, for her part, found much to like in Peter as well--the awe and wonder in his pale blue eyes whenever she glanced at him, the slight stammer that showed he'd been carried away by the intensity of his feelings once again. She liked his practicality and his logic; she adored his passion for reading. She was moved by the solemn, gentle care he gave to tortured, injured and dying.
Most of all, she liked his smile--not the good-humoured, hail-fellow-well-met grin he used for public consumption, but the private smile only she seemed able to surprise out of him, the smile that briefly lit his face with astonished joy.
It was Dorcas he turned to with the news of his treason--not the friends whom he feared would kill him out of righteous wrath. It was Dorcas who held him tightly as he stared into nothingness, his face burning with shame, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to describe the unspeakable.
Going to Dumbledore was unacceptable. Though Peter said nothing, Dorcas knew that he could not bear the idea of beseeching Dumbledore to free him from slavery; it would be no more than exchanging one owner for another. She knew that no matter how hard it was, no matter how much pain and effort it cost him, Peter needed to free himself.
Dorcas never once considered that she not help him do so.
She found spells of unbinding--spells that sorely weakened the Dark Mark--fairly quickly. It was not long before the bond enslaving Peter to Voldemort began to weaken as well.
It was unfortunate that Voldemort, like Peter, could feel the bond weakening.
Slaves who attempted to break free needed to be taught a lesson.
The Dark Lord did not punish Peter. He punished Dorcas. And he took his time.
Ages before the Dark Lord's wrath against her was slaked, Dorcas Meadowes ceased to be human. Mercifully, the thing that had been Dorcas screamed itself into insanity before Voldemort wearied of the harsh howls being torn from its de-evolved throat.
Peter was forced to watch.
He was not permitted to escape into madness. Voldemort saw to that.
The grotesque remains were found by Mad-Eye Moody, along with certain scraps of information which told him that Voldemort was the killer. He and Dumbledore decided not to tell the rest of the Order what had happened to Dorcas; it would be bad for morale.
Most of the Order members simply assumed that Dorcas had been slain with the Killing Curse. They mourned her at the funeral with formal indifference, and speculated idly about her death over the funeral baked meats, and went on.
Peter did not join in the speculation. He lost interest in eating, and lost weight as well. His blue eyes grew clouded and dull, and now and then his hands shook while performing the simplest tasks.
He said nothing. He dared not. His first refusal of Voldemort had cost his sisters' lives; his attempt to break free had cost him his love.
Who else would die, if he spoke again?
Few people noticed that Peter was not himself. Those who did presumed he was sick, and that he would soon recover. No one connected it in any way to overwhelming grief...or overwhelming guilt.
After all, it was only Dorcas.
And Dorcas was nothing special.
***