Valkyrie

June 1978

On the last day of classes, as Minerva McGonagall is tidying up her classroom, she hears a familiar sound, like a twinkling of bells.

Straightening up, with her back still to the door, she calls out. “I’m still not joining.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Albus Dumbledore’s soft, lilting voice responds.

Minerva turns. Albus is leaning against the door frame, arms folded at his chest. Sometimes, looking at him like this, it reminds her how old she is. Nearly thirty-one years ago, she was stood in this very classroom as a bright-eyed first year.

How times change.

“Your position is important. I wouldn’t dare compromise that.” Albus adds, sagely.

“What is it that you need, then? I can’t promise that I’ll do it.”

Albus nods and drops his cool façade, straightening up with his hands by his sides. She appreciates that about their relationship: Albus does not mince words or sugarcoat with her, he knows she won’t stand for that.

“I need your help assembling a different team.”

~*~

They wind up, predictably, at the Three Broomsticks.

It’s not busy, since it’s midday and most people are out enjoying the warm weather, but Albus chooses the smallest table in the far corner to sit. He flashes two fingers at Rose Rosmerta, who winks at them and swishes back to ready their drinks. Minerva watches her disappear into the back.

“Still weird to know that some of my former students are adults now.” She remarks.

Albus snorts. “Imagine how I felt when you showed up at the castle door, demanding a job.”

“I wasn’t demanding!”

“I distinctly recall you telling me you would turn my ears into teapots if I didn’t comply.”

Minerva flushes. Nobody seems to poke the same buttons to infuriate her as Albus does. It makes sense: as her mentor for nearly thirty years now, he seems to know her better than anyone.

Well, not everyone.

“Are you and Poppy heading home together this summer?” Albus asks mildly, pressing his fingernail into the groove of the wooden table.

Rose chooses that moment to deliver their drinks. Minerva flashes her a tight-lipped smile but waits to respond until she’s out of earshot. “Not this year. It’s still… well, we’re not quite back to where we were.”

“You mean after Alphard Black?”

Minerva nods solemnly. “Yeah, after Alphard.”

Alphard dying seemed to push Poppy away more than she’d ever been. Minerva should have expected it. It was exactly what she’d predicted back when they were seventeen, and Alphard had approached her about marrying Poppy to appease his family.

It’s not about that… she’s my friend. I do love her. And she’s pureblood, technically family. It’s just to save face, I promise, Minerva. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.

It’s true, he hadn’t. neither had she. Minerva knew it had been platonic from the start, all the way until he died. But it seemed one of the few remaining threads tying her to Poppy had been snapped.

Now, all that was left was their shared place of employment. Speaking briefly in the halls, cordial nods. The closest they’d come to being friends was over the care of Remus Lupin, but he would be gone as of today. They were back to being coworkers, and coworkers alone.

Minerva ducked her head to hide the emotions that swelled in her chest, refusing to let Albus see them. She wanted to preserve some of her dignity in front of him, at least.

Composing herself, she straightened back up, staring at him directly. “What was it that you needed me for?”

Albus sets down his Butterbeer, a line of foam coating his mustache. He seems to be thinking through actively how to communicate his point. Finally, he speaks, even quieter than his usual timbre. “The Order has become too high-profile, already. Some of the names of our members have been leaked. We cannot afford to lose the edge, the element of surprise against Voldemort.” Minerva shudders at the name, an irrational fear she still can’t quite shake. “What I propose is the development of another team, a sub-division of the Order, and I want you to be their leader.”

Minerva stares blankly at him for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

Albus, thankfully, doesn’t interrupt her.

Finally, wiping tears from her eyes, she looks back at him. “You want me? I’ve already made my intentions in this war clear, Albus.”

Albus leans forward on the table. “I want this team to be filled exclusively with witches.”

Now that, that is intriguing. Minerva can’t quite figure out the angle, here. “Why?” She asks, gaze scrutinizing.

He can tell he’s got her exactly where he wants her, that glint in his eye confirms it. Leaning back, satisfied, he takes a swig of his drink. “Less suspicion thrown onto them. A majority of our leaked names right now are the men, Moody and Longbottom and such. It would be a chance to enlist some of the more…gifted witches, who are hesitant to join the Order.”

“You can’t force these young women to join your war, Albus.”

“I can’t.” Albus holds her gaze. “But you can.”

~*~

Minerva does not like this plan.

It is cruel, to bring these young women in.

But it is not foolish.

From what the Order knows about You-Know-Who and his followers, they seem to hold women to a lesser standard. Minerva knows from her own past that it’s a custom among most pureblood families to begin with. Recruiting witches who already aren’t in the public eye with respect to the war may be an asset to the cause.

Dumbledore is not always kind. Minerva knows that first-hand. He is smart, though.

Above all, she trusts him. He would not be asking her of this without knowing all the risks. He knows that she will look after these young women even despite her trust, because she is wary.

So, she begins compiling a list. A shortlist, including every one of the gifted young witches she’s taught.

There are the women who have already joined the Order, only two:

Alice Fortescue. Established Auror, known for her use of Herbology. Preferred method of combat is long-distance, manipulating surroundings to cause damage. Clear dedication to the cause, alongside her husband, Frank Longbottom.

Dorcas Meadowes. Freshly minted Auror, protégé of Auror and Order member Alastor Moody. Described as the “Queen of Death.” Known for her use of fire and exploding charms. Gifted in both close and long-distance combat.

Then there’s some of the older graduates:

Andromeda Black. She’s no sure bet, given her family allegiances, but she could be convinced. Whip smart, with a proficiency for dark magic, like the rest of the Blacks.

Amelia Bones. Established clerk at the Order, probably the one Minerva knows best given her spying. Rational and even-tempered, holding a special gift for ancient runes and scripts.

Emma Vanity. Gifted flier and star Defence Against the Dark Arts student. Currently abroad in Sweden studying alchemy, had previously expressed an interest in fighting.

Septima Vector. Another student gifted in ancient runes and arithmancy, but also a polyglot. Had previously refused to join the Order and was studying up north to become a Runes Master. Quiet and studious, likely to refuse again.

Maria-Gabrielle McGonagall. Minerva’s own niece. Also a good flier, but with an aptitude for Transfiguration, like Minerva herself. Prone to recklessness and instability.

Then there’s the newest graduates:

Lily Evans. Best student of her year despite being muggleborn. Particularly gifted in Potions and Charms. Boyfriend James Potter had already attempted to join the Order several times while underage, likely a lock.

Marlene McKinnon. Talented spellcaster, shows great promise towards curse breaking. Known for her energy and willingness to fight but demonstrates a lack of maturity in her attitudes towards the war. A sure bet but requiring further supervision.

Mary Macdonald. Demonstrated prowess with protection and shielding charms. Is of flight risk to returning to the Muggle world due to clear impostor’s syndrome. Could be a valuable asset to the team, key to reaching Mary is likely through Lily Evans.

Emmeline Vance. Strong flier and has an eidetic memory. Good with magical creatures and magical theory. Has already expressed interest in joining the order. Takes orders well but isn’t as strong of a fighter in combat.

Hestia Jones. One of Poppy’s more gifted proteges with relation to healing. Uncertain where she stands in relation to the war. Her skills would be needed in the background.

She brings this list to Dumbledore, a week after they first spoke. She watches as his electric blue eyes scan the parchment. Finally, he looks up at her.

“Add Olivia Gleaves, and it will be complete.”

Olivia Gleaves…? Who is Olivia Gleaves? There was no student by that name at Hogwarts, certainly not one Minerva ever taught. But...

There isn’t time to spend wondering. Minerva gets to work.

~*~

From James’ house in Merlinspire, the three girls take the portkey together.

It’s a measure of safety, certainly. Dumbledore had requested that the three come on one portkey to reduce risks of being tracked or followed with too many magical traces. They would have come together anyway, Marlene knows that.

There’s an electric thrum in her veins. She’s an Order member already, sure, but no missions yet. Marlene wants to fight.

Lily and Mary are less certain. Over the telephone, minutes after receiving Dumbledore’s patronus, Mary had admitted quietly on the phone to Marlene and Lily, who were up in Marlene’s bedroom, that she didn’t want to go. Mary was back home in Woolwich since school ended. Neither of them had heard much from her, even though Marlene and James had both invited Mary to come stay with them.

The whole group had set up camp somewhat with James’ parents, Fleamont and Euphemia, while waiting for their official order summons. Only Sirius had his own flat, but he was over every day anyway.
Pete and Marlene had started sleeping at the Potters’, it was easier. Besides, it was good to know where each of them was at all times. Paranoia had already begun to set in, even this early on.

Mary had refused every attempt to stay with them. She missed her family, she’d said. Lily had shaken her head imperceptibly out the corner of Marlene’s eye when she’d asked over the phone when she’d be coming.

It’s the first time the three of them have been together since their leaving party back in June. Mary is all freckled across her shoulders and nose, curls cropped shorter and tied back. She greets them with
a smile, but Marlene catches her grimacing as they grab onto the Portkey, an old hat.

They appear in the deep woods, momentarily disoriented from the travel. Lily is the first to recover.

“Dumbledore said to follow the trees with the markings.” She points at a small X carved into the base of an oak tree. She glances back at them. “You coming?”

Marlene bumps Mary’s shoulder as they walk. “How are the kids?”

Mary keeps her head down as they walk, carefully stepping over branches while Marlene obliviously stomps over them. “Yeah, they’re okay. Rafe’s gotten really into skateboarding. Nico’s got a girlfriend, she’s super cute, very shy. And Ana just turned eleven…” She trails off, features settling into a frown. “I think she was waiting for a letter.” Her voice is small and cracks on the last syllable. Marlene hesitates.

Mary is unhappy. It is clear now, and Marlene has no idea what to do about it.

Were she a better, more perceptive person, she would take cues, match Mary’s body language to make her more comfortable. She could talk it through, gently, to understand what she’s going through.
Marlene doesn’t know how to do any of this, hasn’t throughout her life. She bulldozes through.

“You’re special, Macdonald! Nobody could match you. It’s why we keep you around.”

Mary’s shoulders slump even further down. She doesn’t say anything for the rest of the walk.

The cabin comes up ahead. Lily motions for them to stop, and moves forward first, wand at the ready. A figure is standing by the door, tall and white. Dumbledore, somehow looking older than Marlene has seen him in the month since leaving.

Lily, keeping her wand hand steady, aims for Dumbledore’s chest. “What is the wizarding candy that was confiscated from me in third year by Albus Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore smiles. “Fizzing Whizbees. I’m glad to see that someone has picked up on that practice. Your paramour seems prone to forgetting.”

Lily shrugs, lowering her arm while a smile dances across her lips. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t control him.”

“Nor would I expect you to.” Dumbledore inclines his head to Mary and Marlene. “Good evening, ladies. Ms. Macdonald, it is good to see you again.”

Mary smiles, but only with her lips. Her eyes are dark and sad.

“Please, enter. The rest should be arriving shortly.”

Lily and Marlene’s eyes meet. The others?

What the fuck is happening, Marlene wants to ask. It is Lily’s warning look that just keeps her from opening her big mouth, instead she just bows her head and follows Lily in.

The first person she sees is Alice Fortescue. Thank god for Alice Fortescue. She spots them coming in and smiles at them, but there’s something tight in her face.

Minerva McGonagall is muttering to her niece, Maria-Gabrielle. Marlene is also glad to see them both. MG doesn’t seem to notice them yet, but she’s waving with her hands as she speaks in hushed tones. McGonagall does not look thrilled.

Septima Vector is also here, which is surprising. She and Marlene grew up together, but Septima was always kind of cold and unwelcoming. Here, she’s nose-deep in a book, ignoring all of them. She and Remus would get on like a house on fire, surely.

Finally, the final figure, whose back is turned to them, tosses her dark braids over her shoulder and looks back at them. Marlene’s mouth goes dry.

~*~

“That’s Dorcas Meadowes!”

“Who?” Lily asks, trying to paint her toenails with one hand while the other fans in the air to dry.

Marlene bounces down off the bed, falling to her knees in front of Mary’s bed. “Only the most talented and intelligent and cutthroat Auror in a century!”

“What’s an Auror again?” Mary’s voice, muffled by the magazine she has covering her face.

“Wizard police.” Lily doesn’t miss a beat.

Marlene ignores them both. “She literally graduated and went straight into the Auror program, which is practically unheard of. She managed to get Outstandings in eight OWLS! Rumour has it, she disarmed Mad-Eye Moody when she was twelve, and managed to catch his attention! He’s been her mentor since she was our age, can you believe that?”

“Can’t tell if you want to be her or date her.” Ellie mutters from the furthest bed.

“Fuck off, Ellie.” Marlene makes a crude gesture in her direction. “Last I heard, you failed Potions so badly Slughorn was using you as an example to the first years of who not to be!”

Ellie’s ears flush, and she ducks back under her covers.

“I mean, yeah, she’s impressive Marls, but what’s with the raving?” Lily finally finishes her toenails and wiggles her foot around in the air to dry them.

“Well, my darling Lily,” Marlene turns to point at her. “Rumour has it that Dorcas Meadowes, known as the Queen of Death, is joining the resistance movement.”

“Isn’t she a Slytherin, though?” Mary levitates the magazine off her face, plopping it neatly in front of her crossed legs.

“Not all Slytherins are bad, Macdonald. Besides, Dorcas is more than just a Slytherin.” Marlene’s eyes glitter. “She’s a God.”

“Your mother would be so disappointed in you.”

“My mother can suck Jesus’ unbelievably huge cock, Lilith.”

“Marls,” Mary sits up to look Marlene in the eye. “We’re still underage. We can’t join the Order. Besides, Dorcas is an actual wizard cop. It’s not like we can just join with our basic DADA knowledge and expect to survive all so you can fight alongside Wizard God.”

Marlene waves a hand in the air. “Potter says the resistance isn’t doing so well, so there’s definitely room. Besides, we should fight. It’s not like we’re doing anything by just staying in school.”

“If you would think this through instead of being led by your lady boner—”

“Mary.” Lily demands, and Mary promptly shuts up.

Marlene leans back in bed, examining the magazine in her hands. Exclusive Profile on Rising Young Auror, Dorcas Meadowes. She’s glaring out at Marlene, sharp eyebrows menacing. Her hair is in twists, falling to her mid-back, and she’s in the Auror uniform. Even in the image, she looks tall and broad shouldered, arms so muscled it makes Marlene’s mouth water. She remembers those firm arms swinging the Beater’s bat in the first Quidditch match Marlene ever saw at Hogwarts: Gryffindor vs Slytherin. She sat in the crowd, James and Pete on either side of her, watching as powerhouse fourth year Dorcas Meadowes slammed a Bludger into Stephen Gould’s temple.

I want to be you, Marlene thought.

Later, she realized that what she actually thought was: I want to be with you.

~*~

Dorcas Meadowes is even taller in person. 6’, easily. Dark hair braided all the way down her back, accented with deep purple strands that make her look drawn with ink. Sharp eyes, sharp jawline, sharp scowl.

God, Marlene is so gay. Somewhere, deep down, a voice that sounds like her mother protests. She ignores it, too infatuated by the sight in front of her.

She doesn’t have long to drool. The door opens behind them, and three other bodies press in. Emmeline Vance, Emma Vanity, and Hestia Jones. The latter shoots a curious look at Mary, who studiously ignores her.

Dorcas is looking at her. Shit, shit. Her eyes are so dark, like pools of night. A scar runs down her cheekbone to her jawline. She looks so rugged and cool, like Ares, the god of war.

“Ladies, please.” Dumbledore is here now too, clapping his hands together to bring them to order. They’ve sort of gathered in a strange circle, Marlene between Mary and Lily. Hestia, next to Lily, is still eye-fucking Mary.

“We don’t have much time here, I’m afraid.” Dumbledore gives them his crooked half-smile. “But Professor McGonagall and I have a very particular request.”

“Is this about the Order again?” Soft-voiced Septima asks, having closed her book over her index finger to keep her page. “Because I already gave my answer.”

“Yes and no.” McGonagall responds, voice stern and comforting. Marlene’s missed her looming presence, like an overbearing mother. “This is about a different organization, one which is not known to the public.”

“An all-women team, led by myself and Minerva, fulfilling different roles both in conjunction with, but also separate from the Order, all with the ultimate purpose of defeating Voldemort and his agenda.” Dumbledore explains, spreading his hands out as though that makes him more welcoming. “Several of you are already Order members, but others have refused – as they are entitled to. Each of your skillsets are deeply valuable to the cause.”

“And what if we refuse?”

Everyone turns to Mary, who doesn’t shrink in on herself. Her eyes are trained on Dumbledore, unflinching.

“What if we say no? Will you accept that?”

“As this is a top-secret organization…” Dumbledore clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “None of you will be permitted to leave this cabin without accepting.”

“Albus, they’re just kids!” Alice exclaims, stepping forward with an arm out as though to shield Lily, Mary, and Marlene. “You cannot take away their choice!”

“I’m afraid I already have, but only in the service of good.” Dumbledore does, for a moment, look truly sorry. Next to him, McGonagall is silent, jaw clenched.

“I don’t want to join.” Septima declares.

“Me neither.” Mary agrees.

“Not without knowing what this means.” Hestia Jones, quiet but firm.

Dumbledore sighs. “I cannot disclose what each of your individual positions will be at this time. That will be determined later and relayed in private.”

“No.” Mary turns and goes to grab the doorhandle, but it refuses to budge. Lily is frozen, staring at Dumbledore, confusion and shock and horror playing across her face in real time.

Across from her, Dorcas’ face hasn’t moved. Her eyes suddenly shift from Dumbledore to Marlene. They stare at each other for a moment.

Marlene steps forward, still watching Dorcas. “I’m in.”

The ghost of a smile darts over Dorcas’ lips. It’s gone in an instant, but Marlene’s heart beats faster.

“Me too.” Maria-Gabrielle also steps forward. “I want to fight.”

“You already know my commitment to the cause.” Emmeline Vance adds, though her voice is shaky.

Dumbledore and the rest of the room look to Lily.

Her jaw is working, the cogs spinning quickly in her head clear to see. She does not look at anyone but Dumbledore, eyes narrowing and widening as she thinks.

In the past, Marlene has loved to watch Lily’s brilliant mind on display. Not so now, though. She feels the goosebumps rise on her arm in anticipation.

Lily, head and eyes unmoving, finally speaks: “Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.”

Then, and only then, do her eyes dart to Mary, who is staring at her with such desperation, all crushed in an instant.

“Ms. Macdonald…?” Dumbledore prompts, not unkindly.

Mary is still looking at Lily’s side profile. Marlene has never seen her look this scared and vulnerable, like a little kid. For a second, she remembers Mary as a first year next to her in line for the sorting. Their eyes the same, now and then: big and dark and grieving all she had ever known.

“Okay.” Her breath punches out into a whisper. She looks so utterly defeated, the blood drained from her lovely brown skin.

Hestia, also watching Mary, echoes, “Okay.”

“I hope this bites you all in the ass.” Septima says, but her glare at Dumbledore reveals that he has won.

Dumbledore smiles widely now. “I am glad we are in consensus. Now, for the unbreakable vow.”

Everyone around the room has some variation of fear or trepidation on their faces. Not Dorcas. She is stone-faced, almost bored-looking. Her eyes keep finding Marlene.

So Marlene straightens her posture, tries to morph her facial expression into one of neutrality, desperate not to reveal either her fear or her excitement. She looks to Dorcas for confirmation.

Again, Dorcas almost smiles.

Maybe, once this is all over, it will be worth it.