Voldemort killed Dorcas Meadowes personally. Maybe Dumbledore was the only one he ever really feared, but he knew Dumbledore’s young lieutenant was dangerous. Why? She did not fear him.
“In Muggle America,” she once said over a game of exploding snap, “there are men like him all over, only they wear suits and shake hands with the president. They wanted to put my mother and me back in our place, and they got her eventually. But Voldy’s not putting me back in my place, Muggleborn or no.”
Without her muggle strategies, the Order couldn’t have survived. Without her, who would have thought of using famous muggle books to create simple ciphers no wizard could crack? Who would have thought to use payphones to communicate undetected by the ministry? Who would have thought to transport forces not by broom but on the London Underground?
In the end, Dorcas went down swinging–literally. When her wand was snapped in two by a curse, Dorcas tossed it away and suckerpunched a surprised Death Eater with a blow just as effective as a well-placed Stunner. Voldemort hit her in the back with the Killing Curse barely seconds later.
She was buried in her favorite thick-soled muggle trainers, a final “fuck you” to wizarding propriety.
(Karly Loyce by Alasdair McLellan for i-D Magazine)
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