Author's Notes: So, I found this quote in OotP, and decided to have some fun with it. After all, no one has any background info on dear ole Dorcas. And what could she have done to deserve being killed by Voldemort personally?

So … yeah. Read on.

Oh! I forgot. Angel's Touch? Yeah, she beta'd. And, uh, she's amazing. Trust me. Read her everything. It's fantastic.

Killing Dorcas Meadows

"This is Dorcas Meadows. Voldemort killed her personally." – Mad-Eye Moony, Order of the Phoenix

Voldemort was right outside my front door. I could hear him hissing orders at his little Death Munchers as he prepared to enter. The dark sky outside glimmered with light from the stars and the moon. A haunting owl cry echoed through the trees.

I propped my feet up on the coffee table and settled back into my favourite chair, casually flipping my wand out of my back pocket and into my right hand. I opened a book and began to read, all the while keeping an eye trained on the door. It would not do to be killed before I managed to put up a good fight.

It was lucky that he had come tonight. Tomorrow's plan was breaking up with Gideon, and he's such a sweetheart, it was going to be difficult. It's better than I could get out of it with minimal hurt to both of us.

All went silent outside. They would break in soon. I shut my book and placed it gently on the coffee table. I folded my arms across my chest and allowed a brief smirk of satisfaction crease my features. The door handle twisted—I didn't bother to lock the door, because locks could not keep out Voldemort when he wanted to enter—and the door gently swung in.

"Hullo," I said cheerily, taking a sip of tea. "Welcome to Meadows Manor. Would you like a spot of tea?"

The Death Eater scowled and pointed his wand at me. "Master!" He called, "She is here!"

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh, how sweet! I get the Big Man himself? You flatter me. Really."

A ridiculously tall…thing swept into my front hall, his robes billowing around him. "Voldemort!" I cried, leaping to my feet and hurrying forward. I grabbed his hand before he could protest and shook it heartily. "Great to finally meet you, old bean! Care for some tea? A crumpet? Anything?"

I was grabbed roughly by the Death Eater that entered originally and thrown into my own wall. "How dare you touch Our Lord!" He hissed.

"Actually, he's your Lord, not mine," I corrected. He pulled his fist back. "Wait!" I cried, adjusting on the wall. I pulled my head off of the corner and onto a flatter part. "Okay, that's better. Go ahead."

I watched lazily as the arm shot towards my head and ducked just as it grazed my forehead. The hand went into the wall. I let out a fake gasp. "Well, really, did you have to punch a hole in the wall? There are better ways to get rid of your anger. For example, a stress ball! A brilliant Muggle invention that I think you ought to try. I'll give you the number of someone who makes them, if you want…"

The Death Eater turned confused eyes to his master. "My Lord?" He asked sounding perplexed.

"Leave her to me," Voldemort ordered, his voice deep and terrible. His servant nodded and scurried out. I smiled and waved my hand at the door, shutting it. "Dorcas Meadows, I presume?" He asked, idly twirling his wand between his middle and pointer fingers.

I plastered a fake smile on my face, "So you've heard of me!" I cried. "Yes, I'm the one who burned the site of your mother's grave." Voldemort's aura burned bright with fierce anger.

How sweet.

He growled. "I could kill you in an instant," he spat, "But I don't think I will. I think I'll make it long and excruciating until you don't even know your own name."

"Yes, I thought you might," I agreed amiably. "I must admit, I was hoping to at least delay it a bit by sitting and having some tea…don't you just hate it when a perfectly good cup goes to waste?"

"Oh, Christ," he muttered. Funny, I didn't know he was Catholic.

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain," I scolded.

Voldemort let out a furious growl. "Enough talk!" He snarled, "Crucio!" The spell hit me with surprising force and I was bowled over. I'm sure I let out a scream, but I was a bit preoccupied with the fact that I was being skinning alive to be too worried with silly things like noise. I felt the skin being ripped off slowly, piece by piece—

He let up. "There," he said, looking satisfied, "That'll shut you up."

I took a deep breath. "O Contraire, my friend," I disagreed weakly. "I find that pain only increases my tantalizing wit."

"Miss Meadows," The Dark Lord said with a raised eyebrow (hey, cool!), "You have shown no sign of 'tantalizing wit' tonight. You have shown nothing but insanity and an obsession with tea."

I sighed. "I'll give you that. But I'm just warming up."

"You annoy me."

"And you're ugly. But there isn't much either of us can do about that, is there?"

"Is this the supposed wit you seem to think you possess? Crucio!" The skinning started where it had left off, the spot still sore. I could almost hear the rip as the skin tore. I felt myself collapse completely and something buried deep in my back and twist.

Ah. That would be a metaphorical knife. Thank you, Severus.

Voldemort stopped and flipped his wand carelessly into the folds of his robes. "Tell me, Miss Meadows," he mused, strolling casually forward, "Why you seem to nonchalant about death? I myself have spent my entire life seeking ways to avoid it and become immortal, yet you throw your life away."

I smiled at him and got shakily to my feet. "I'm sure you know of my research," I informed him. "In fact, that's why you're here. And through it, I have found what you refuse to accept: Death comes for everyone. We are both merely specs in Time's great expanse, and when our time is finished, so are we." I paused. "But that's all philosophical and sentimental: the true answer is that we both know you are stronger and more powerful than I. My only goal is to go out memorably."

"Fool," Voldemort spat. "And yet…a brave fool. A strong fool…tell me, Dorcas—"

"Oh! We're on first-name terms? Why didn't you tell me, Tom?"

"—How would you feel if I offered you a place among my ranks? You could continue your research with the best materials…"

I pretended to consider it, stroking my chin. "The best materials?" I asked thoughtfully. Voldemort nodded, a feral gleam in his eye. "Yes…I could make your victory all but written in stone…"

"Join me, Dorcas," he urged. "Join me, complete your research, and serve the greatest wizard on the planet!"

I blinked. "But, Tom…I already do." He looked confused, and I straightened. "Albus Dumbledore."

Voldemort let out a screech and yelled, "Crucio!" but I dodged it this time. I leapt onto the coffee table and kicked my tea set at him. It shattered on his cloak and he let out a grunt of pain.

"Oh, damn. A perfectly good, new set, and you've gone and ruined it!" I cried, distressed. "Well, I'll show you—Avada Kedavra!" He moved out of the way and I sighed. "You don't die easy, do you?"

"Don't be a fool, Dorcas!" He insisted, "You could still join me!"

I ducked the jet of green light. "You sound just like my father," I informed him, keeping behind the couch. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told him: sod off!"

His footsteps got closer and I spun around so I was on my feet. He had his wand trained on me and his eyes narrowed. "You've made your choice, Dorcas Meadows," he told me, "And now I'll give you the honour of being killed by the greatest wizard who ever lived!"

"Where?" I asked, looking around. "I don't see him."

"Avada Kedavra!"

I ducked.

The spell went over my head and hit the wall—it bounced back at me and I jumped to the side. "Hah!" I yelled. "Take tha—ah!" Someone had grabbed my arms behind my back and was holding a knife at my throat. "Oh, this is great," I muttered. "Just peachy."

Voldemort laughed. "Thank you, Severus. Dorcas, Dorcas, Dorcas...such a shame."

"Yes," I agreed, turning to look into Severus' eyes, "It really is." He looked away. Jerk. "Well, there's never a dull moment with you, Sevvie. I guess I should have expected it."

Voldemort turned to look at his servant. "Severus? What does she mean?"

"Oh, sure, talk about me like I'm not here, no big deal."

"Nothing, my Lord. We…shared a bed once."

"Or forty-three times," I put in cheerily. "He's quite good. You should try him out some time, Tommy, dear. It's great, there was this one time when he took my—"

"Meadows!" Severus interrupted, looking mortified.

I cocked my head the side but didn't move my neck for fear of being sliced. "What? Aren't you two intimate?"

Severus lets out a groan. "Not quite, Meadows! Shut up!"

Voldemort twirled his wand. "You're entertaining, Meadows, but foolish."

"You say the word 'fool', and variations of it, entirely too much, Tom. You ought to buy a thesaurus. They're such useful things in this day and age!"

"It's a shame, Dorcas. You had such talent…" The irony of the situation, having the Dark Lord spout off my many talents moments before he killed me, did not escape my notice.

"Dora," Severus whispered into my ear, "Listen to me. Dumbledore is coming. You need to keep talking until he manages to arrive, all right? Can you do that?"

I grinned at the Dark Lord and hissed from the side of my mouth, "Are you kidding me? This is great! I've never had a verbal spar with a Dark Lord before!" Severus' silent chuckle tickled my back. "How long do I need to hold him off for?"

"I don't—"

"Anyway, enough talk. I have places to be. Let her go, Severus…she will not leave this world painlessly."

"Okay, so, I take it you want me to submit myself to Crucio, et cetra?" Voldemort raised his eyebrows. I paused and suddenly felt the cool blade against my neck.

I couldn't hold him off long enough for Dumbledore to arrive. I knew that. Severus knew that—hell, Voldemort knew that.

I grinned.

"Well, I hate to soil your fun…but not really. It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Halfblood, sir. Maybe we can chat again some time."

I winked at him and pressed my neck against the knife, wrenching it to the side. The blade sliced through the skin and I felt blood dribble down.

"No!" Voldemort yelled, "Crucio!"

It was too groggy then, though, for pain, and my living room was fading. "Don't let the tea…go to waste," I called weakly.

I heard Voldemort swear as my eyes slammed shut.