Kim: Okay, I've had this idea in my head for quite a while now but I had no idea how to write it out. This is my attempt. Hope you enjoy!

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Guardian Angel

(May be renamed)

Prologue

-Circle-

Tuesday, April 10th, 1990

"C'mon, Harry!" Yelled a brown-haired girl of about twelve, her hazel eyes dancing with mirth as she tried to pull the almost ten year old to the park near Magnolia Crescent.

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "I can only go but so fast, Angie," he replied, wincing as he put weight on the foot his Uncle Vernon had injured. Angie stopped pulling, having felt the wince.

"What's wrong? You're not hurt, are you?" She asked, concern filling her gaze.

"M'fine," Harry said quickly. "I should be the one asking you that. You haven't been lookin' so good as of late," He pointed out, taking in her too pale skin and lank hair. The girl looked down, holding Harry's left hand tighter in her right.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, worry lighting in his brilliant emerald eyes.

Angie looked back up, a tear rolling down her cheek as she looked into his eyes. Slowly, she shook her head. "I-I'm sick, Harry. Very sick," She said, crystal tears sliding down both of her cheeks. "I don't have long to live."

Harry shook his head. "W-what do you mean?" He asked, voice trembling. Angie looked at him sadly, pulling the too small boy in for a hug. "Mama took me to the hospital last week to get me checked out and... and- Oh, Harry!" She held Harry tightly, sobbing into his unruly black hair as the boy tensed, unused to any kind of physical contact that wasn't hostile.

Angie pulled back after a while, grabbing Harry's hand again.

"Thanks for being there, little brother. Now, C'mon! I want to spend what little time I have left with you!" She said softly, dragging him the rest of the way to the park.

~Time Skip~

Monday, July 23, 1990

Harry ws silent as he entered his best friend's - almost sister's - hospital room, a small flat box wrapped in light blue paper cradled in his hands. He stopped just inside the door frame when he saw the state his only friend was in, a quiet gasp leaving his throat.

Angie was paler than the sheets that she lay on, her dark brown hair lank and lifeless, her once bright hazel eyes dull. Tubes were pumping different fluids into her body, a tube in her nose helping her breathe while a beeping machine monitored her slowing heart. A hand descended on Harry's shoulder, and he looked up.

Mrs. Weller - Angie's mother - was smiling sadly at him, tears in her eyes as she encouraged the young boy to step up to the bed.

"Hey, little brother," Angie rasped out as soon as Harry reached her sickbed. "Happy early birthday!" Her voice was cheery, but Harry could tell she was in pain and trying not to show it.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, not happy at all. Angie laughed, coughing slightly.

"No you're not!" She said between laughs, her face paling further.

Harry tried to smile at her, but only succeeded in turning up one corner of his mouth. When her coughs subsided, Angie turned her face to Harry's, staring into his eyes.

"I-I haven't got long now, Harry," She said, smiling sadly at him. "I'll be dead before you leave this room. That is, if you don't mind staying with me?" Harry nodded, taking the chair by her bedside. A silence descended upon the room, the beeping of the heart monitor echoing in Harry's head.

"I-I've gotten you something" He said, breaking the silence, holding up his small gift.

Unwrapping the paper for the frail girl, he handed her the box, watching as she lifted the lid and pulled out a silver charm bracelet. Angie smiled, holding a tree shaped charm between her thumb and forefinger.

"I love it!" She smiled wider.

"R-really? I spent all the money I had on it. I wanted to get you something special, ya know, before you..." He trailed off.

She nodded, slipping the bracelet onto her free wrist, her breathing beginning to slow as she quickly grabbed Harry's warm hand in her cold one.

"H-H-Harry! I wa-want yo-yo-you to know t-that I'll a-al-always be wa-watching ov-er y-you... I-" She was gasping now, her head hitting the pillow as her body gave out, her hand slackening in Harry's firm grip.

The machine beside her bed flatlined, droning a continuous 'beeeeep', until a nurse came in and silenced it.

For the first time in seven years, Harry Potter cried.

...

Kim: I hope that was okay. Oh, and for those of you confused about where Harry got the money, he did odd jobs around his neighborhood. Read and Review, Please!