GwL: Late Night Plea

He entered the Infirmary under the cover of a Disillusionment charm to find it dark and empty of staff.  Given that there were no signs of the mutt – in either of his forms – he could only assume that Albus had dragged him back to Headquarters.  

Of course, that meant that the child was alone.

A quick scan of the room revealed her laid out in her usual bed – the fact that she frequented the Infirmary often enough to lay claim to the bed was disconcerting enough – her bandaged face drawn and pale in the moonlight filtering in from the window behind her.  A gentle thrum of magic alerted him to the numerous monitoring spells woven around her.  He opted to keep his distance lest he trigger one and alert Poppy to his presence.

Seating himself down in the empty chair at her bedside, he noted a small empty vial next to her glasses lying carefully folded on the table beside her.  A quick sniff revealed it to have once contained Dreamless Sleep potion.

His gaze darkened.  What could she have possibly witnessed in the graveyard to warrant to use of such a powerful sedative; the death of a classmate, the revival of a feared and reviled Dark Lord?  And of course, let him not forget whatever the Polyjuiced Barty Crouch Jr. had done to her before Dumbledore and the others had managed to calm the crowds down enough to notice her absence.  He had noticed those emerald green eyes pale and wide with fear long before the bloody arm hanging limp at her side.

He'd sworn an Oath to protect this girl, this spawn of his hated enemy, the symbol of everything he'd lost as a result of his weakness, arrogance, and foolishness. Year after year he'd done everything in his power to keep this child out of harm's way, and yet at the tender age of 14 she'd already battled a troll and a possessed wizard, slain a basilisk, evaded Dementors and rabid werewolves…

A surge of rage filled him only to fizzle and die as the young girl let out a distressed whimper in her sleep.  The invisible of field of magic energy surrounding her flickered slightly in response, and in a few moments she quieted and grew still again.

Yes, the girl had done all these things and survived, but now…  He glanced at his arm, acutely aware of the grotesque tattoo growing steadily darker beneath his sleeve.  The Dark Lord was back, using a perversion of the very magic that had spared the child from death in their first encounter.  He had returned to His side as planned, ingratiated himself to his cause, and vowed his allegiance to His mission… all so that the girl would remain safe.

But would she…?

He gazed at her face again, starting as he realized that the absence of her glasses drastically lessened the resemblance between her and her male progenitor.  In fact, the way her lashes lay flush against her cheeks, the way her lips relaxed into a cupid's bow… if only her hair were longer and red, she would be the spitting image of---

He halted that thought with a savage snarl, clenching his fists tightly enough to cause himself discomfort.  He could not allow himself to think such thoughts!  Not with so much at stake!  It was one thing to watch over the girl, to protect the girl, but he could not allow himself to care about her!  If ever the Dark Lord were to learn of such a thing…

"Oh Merlin…" He hunched forward, clutching his hands together in penitence.  There was so much at stake, so much to lose!  The Dark Lord was alive and corporeal once more, and it was only a matter of time before he set his sights on the girl once again.

Recalling the anguish on her face as she clutched desperately at the Diggory boy's corpse – a scene that brought up far too many bad memories – brought a sharp pain to his chest.  She would need time to heal, time he knew she would not receive as he knew in due time she would be shipped off to the  Dursleys to make use of what remaining protection Lily's Blood wards could provide.

And if his hatred of Potter and Black still burned strongly after all these years, there was no doubt in his mind that Petunia Dursley née Evans would certainly have no compunction for transferring her resentment of her dead sister to her niece.  If the girl did grieve, she would do so alone.

Clutching his hands even more tightly together, he whispered to silent plea to anyone would deign to listen…  

Protect her Lily… Please watch over her…Protect her… Help me keep her safe…

Please… Help me…