Harry Potter 1. Sunshine

**Glory and Ashes**

_Sunshine_

The sun is bright in his eyes, and with a bit of imagination this might be just another Quidditch match, lobbing the Bludger at the Snakes, with his brother laughing and whooping from the other side of the pitch.

But this is a more serious game. Gideon sends another hex at the Death Eater in front of him, hearing Black cursing and Marlene shouting from behind, and wonders where Fabian even is. He lost sight of him in the initial melee of the Death Eater ambush, and he hasn't seen or heard him since. He can hear Molly's voice in his head: _"Take care of yourselves. And each other. I worry,"_ and almost smiles. "I'm trying, Moll," he mutters, as his next curse hits his adversary full in the face, "but I don't know where the hell he is."

Moody yells, "Get out of here! We can't win this one!" and Gideon looks round frantically, the fear in his chest half choking him. With a fresh jolt of dread, he sees a familiar figure face down on the ground beyond where Moody is still battling two opponents at once, and launches himself past the fighters, half-flattening one of the Death Eaters in his desperate passage.

"Fabe…" His voice is a whisper, halfway to a sob, and the relief when he feels his brother's hand clasp his weakly as he grabs it nearly undoes him completely. He grasps Fabian roughly round the shoulders, pulling him up against himself and Apparating the pair of them back to Headquarters. He is dimly aware that Black and Marlene have retreated already, and that Moody, still sending curse after curse at the Death Eaters surrounding him, is waiting for him to leave before Disapparating himself.

The Death Eaters are left alone in the sunshine-filled clearing.


	2. Constant Vigilance

_The prompt for this one was "continually", but that doesn't make much of a title!_

* * *

**Glory and Ashes**

_Constant vigilance_

"This isn't a joke, Potter!"

James rolls his eyes at his friends, and Black snorts with laughter. Even little Pettigrew's lips twitch. Only Lupin – the one whose awareness saved their sorry skins tonight – remains serious. Moody turns his glare onto all four of them.

"You have to be continually on the alert. Cont-in-u-ally." He stretches the word out, as he looks from one young face to another, the feeling growing within him that he is not getting through to two of them at least. It will take a closer call than tonight's before they realise how serious this is.

Tonight, they got away with their lack of attention to the house they were supposed to be watching, with the fact that they were laughing so much at some kiddish joke that they almost missed the enemy coming up in a wide circle behind them.

Lupin's sensitive hearing had saved them – that and Moody's own intervention when their defeat seemed inevitable. Dumbledore had advised him against being there, had wanted them to do it alone. (_"They won't learn unless you let them try, Alastor. They have to believe we trust them."_) The old man was too trusting by half. These boys were three months out of school, still wet behind the ears, and boy did it show.

"Get out of here!" Moody growls. "Constant vigilance. Constant. Next time you won't have me nannying you, and you won't be so bloody lucky. This is war, in case you hadn't realised."

He sees Potter roll his eyes again and Black twist his elegant mouth in a sneer, but decides to pretend that he hasn't. Pettigrew and Lupin look more serious, one frowning, the other set-lipped and white-faced.

Perhaps they will get through to their idiot friends where he has failed. Moody hopes so.


	3. Behind Closed Doors

_The prompt for this one is "closed"._

**Glory and Ashes**

_Behind Closed Doors_

Alice looks at the golden potion and feels the room spinning around her. She has forgotten how to breathe, how to think even. She gropes her way to a chair and sits down, her head resting on one hand, the tiny vial that means disaster in the other.

What are they going to do? How could they have been so foolish, so criminally careless? She is twenty-six, Frank is nearly thirty. They aren't children. They are old enough to know better.

What kind of a world is this to bring a child into? How can their child ever be safe with parents so deeply involved in the war against You-Know-Who? What on earth are they going to _do_? How _can_ they have a baby now?

Alice is still sitting in the chair, unmoving, white-faced and tearless, when Frank comes in.

She shows him the tube wordlessly, and sees her own fear and horror reflected in his eyes. But he takes her in his arms and kisses her and whispers that it will be alright somehow.

She almost believes him.

* * *

Lily looks at the potion in the tiny tube. It is definitely golden in colour. She is sure now. This is the third time she has done the charm, and the result has been the same every time. She is going to be a mother.

She puts a hand over her stomach and smiles. A baby. A baby for her and James – and for Sirius and Peter and Remus, who Lily knows will inevitably claim their share in him (or her).

She cannot wait for James to come home.

When he does, and she tells him her – their – news, he is as happy as she is.

A baby – hope for the future in a terrifying world.

What could be better?


	4. Maniac

**Glory and Ashes**

_Maniac_

"Of course, he _is_ a maniac." Benjy says it so casually, between sips of his Firewhisky, that at first his companions do not register whom he is talking about.

It is Edgar Bones who gets there first. Edgar, who has only been in the Order a month, and is still finding his feet, but who can always be trusted to get to the root of what anyone is getting at. He puts his own glass down with a bang, and fixes his friend with a stare that would frighten a man who was more easily scared than Benjy Fenwick.

"Moody?" he demands. "You're talking about Alastor Moody? He's on our side… I thought the maniacs were You-Know-Who and his cronies."

Benjy shrugs and grins unapologetically. "There are different types of maniac," he says. "Bellatrix Lestrange and Mulciber and co are one sort; our Moody is quite another."

Caradoc Dearborn wipes his mouth after a long draught of ale, and smiles his slow smile.

"I see what Benjy means, Edgar," he says. "You've not been in a tight corner with Moody yet, have you? If you had, you might understand better. The way the man fights…" His voice trails off and he takes another swig of his drink. "Well, 'maniac' is about the right word for it, I guess. There's a reason he has those scars and only one leg and eye. I've never seen anyone fight like he does. Not even the maddest Death Eater."

"Nor me," Sturgis Podmore, who has been sitting quietly up to now, puts in.

Benjy nods in agreement. "That's what I meant, Ed."

"Just as well he's on our side then," Edgar says. He raises his glass. "To Moody. Long may his maniacal tendencies continue."

The others laugh and raise their glasses too. "To Moody!"


	5. Empty

**Glory and Ashes**

_Empty_

It feels wrong to be in the house when it is empty. Dorcas expects to hear her father's booming voice from the study, the French accent still discernible despite his years in England, _"Is that my girl?" _She expects her mother to come tip-tap-tapping from the kitchen in her high heels, her long dress protected by one of her flowery aprons, and her hands covered in flour. She expects to be feted and welcomed as she always has been, and instead there is emptiness.

Of course, she knew that that is how it would be. How could it be otherwise? Her parents are long gone, and she should be – she _is_ – glad of it. In France with Tante Emilie and Oncle Jacques, they are safe, at least for the time being. And Dorcas understands why they left, why they would not stay and fight. Papa is old, even by wizarding standards. He remembers Grindelwald; he says he physically and mentally cannot face another war. And Mummy – well Mummy would follow Papa to the ends of the earth if he asked her to. Dorcas knew that she would not stay here alone.

They wanted her to go with them. She is their only child, their pride and joy. They want – need – her to be safe too. They cannot – or will not – see that if You-Know-Who prevails, they will not be safe for long, even in France. And Dorcas has to fight, as her father had to against Grindelwald. She has no choice, as he had no choice then.

Seeing the house dead and silent like this is almost more than she can bear. She goes to the study and fetches the papers she has come for as quickly as she can, and leaves without looking back. Her life is elsewhere now.

* * *

_Dorcas is Dorcas Meadowes - and I know that I have made her father French and that Meadowes is not a French name. I think he had an English grandfather...._

_Calling your mother "Mummy" into adulthood is an English upper-class thing. I like to think that happens even in the wizarding world, and "my" Dorcas's mother comes from a definitely aristocratic family, despite the apron and the flour._


	6. Marked

**Glory and Ashes**

_Marked_

Marlene grins at Sirius as he lights the two cigarettes in his mouth and passes one to her.

"Close call tonight, eh kid?" she asks.

Sirius scowls. "Less of the kid, McKinnon. I'm barely eighteen months younger than you," he growls. "And… yeah. I was glad you'd got my back."

She smiles again, blowing smoke in his face. "Any time, kid."

Part of him wants to be angry with her, but another part, the bigger and stronger part, wants something very different. His mouth twists as he tries to think of something to say that will put him on top, where he wants to be, where he is used to being. Right now, he is only too aware that she is playing with him, laughing at him.

She knows what he is thinking. She laughs and throws her cigarette into the gutter, sidling up to him, and throwing his cigarette after hers. Her arms are round his shoulders, her face inches from his, and he finds his body responding to her without conscious thought and despite his continuing annoyance with her.

She leans forward and kisses him hard and deep and long.

"Better?" she whispers, and Sirius can only nod.

She pulls away from him, winds her arm in his and pulls him into the alley nearby.

"Thing is…" she drawls, as she rips open his shirt and moves down to his belt. "Thing is, Sirius love, that this is a war. And war marks people like nothing else does."

He gasps and tugs at her blouse wildly, but she can tell that he is listening.

"We wouldn't behave like this if time wasn't precious," she whispers. "Would we, love?"

Sirius doesn't answer. His mouth comes down hard on hers and silences her. This is war, and they are young.


	7. Purple Sky

_The Prompt for this one is "amethyst"._

* * *

**Glory and Ashes**

_Purple sky_

They know they are too late when they get there. The sky above the old house is a sickly shade of purple and the Dark Mark curls, green and menacing, above the roof. Sirius and Peter lower their wands and Moody frowns at them and growls, "Constant vigilance! We don't know they're not still in there!"

Sirius and Peter exchange a look, but say nothing as they raise their wands once more and follow Moody up the path to the house. Emmeline Vance brings up the rear. At the front door, Moody sends Emmeline around the side of the house with a jerk of his head and motions the two younger men to stand back.

Peter can feel his heart beating far too fast, and his mouth is dry. There had been relief mixed with the horror and disappointment of seeing the Dark Mark – he had thought the danger was past. But now, Moody's "constant vigilance" and expectation of trouble has him as nervous as he was earlier.

Moody crashes the front door open with a curse, and Peter and Sirius follow him into the darkened hallway. They can hear breaking glass as Emmeline comes in through the back. Moody nods his head at the stairs, and Sirius and Peter head up them, wands at the ready. There is no question of not being vigilant now: Moody's caution has infected them.

Peter finds them – mother, father and three children, one only a baby – huddled together in the corner of the smallest bedroom. Killed for the crime of having Muggle parents or grandparents. There is no sign of any of their enemies. They arrived too late.

The Dark Mark has faded as they Disapparate away, but the sky is still amethyst-toned, subtly wrong.

There are too many days like this one.


	8. Dancing

**Glory and Ashes**

_Dancing_

The music is very loud. It encases them, insulates them, separates them from reality. Which, just for today, is exactly what they want.

Caradoc spins Dorcas around once more as the music swells, and laughs as she overbalances and clutches at him to remain upright.

"Bastard!" she says, but she is laughing breathlessly as she says it. The song comes to an end, and they fall together, Dorcas' head on Caradoc's shoulder, his arm round her waist, both of them gasping for air, but both happy in their forgetfulness of the real world they face every day.

On the edge of the dance floor, two couples are sitting at a table and regarding them with a frown. Benjy Fenwick was one of the first members of the Order, his friend Edgar is a relatively new recruit. Their wives are not in the Order because of family responsibilities, but they know all about it. All four of the people at the table know the seriousness of what they face every day and are inclined to regard the antics of the younger couple with disapproval.

Dorcas and Caradoc, coming over hand in hand for a swig of their drinks, see the looks on their elders' faces and know exactly what they mean, although Jenny Fenwick smiles at them and asks them if they are having a good time. They are not stupid, they know that Benjy and Edgar and their wives think that this is not a suitable way to behave in the middle of a war. But they know too, that the others are wrong.

A new song starts and Caradoc grins and pulls Dorcas into his arms and back onto the floor. Within seconds they are dancing again, forgetting the world and the war.

This is exactly what they need.


End file.

Harry Potter, Drama