I sped through the final steps of the blood-replenishing potion I was making for Madame Pomfrey, who had begun stocking up on her wares for next years invalids. Dumbledore had assigned me to watch Potter for the first time tonight and I was running behind schedule; I would be taking over for Lupin and Bill Weasley would relieve me at dawn. Since I'd been summoned so often by the newly risen Dark Lord, along with all the old followers, my schedule had been too unpredictable to be given a shift stationed at number 4 Privet Drive. The summonings had become less and less frequent over the last few days, giving me time to recover from Voldermort's initial greeting. He had not been pleased with my long absence and had proceeded to question my loyalty with intermittent use of the cruciatus curse. I managed to convince him to believe the lie — that Dumbledore would be too suspicious had I left Hogwarts before the term ended. My long-dormant skill of occlumency had thankfully come back into play, and I had effectively been welcomed back into the Death Eater fold, much to Dumbledore's delight. The less frequent summonings had now earned me weekly shifts watching the girl.

I'd heard the rumors about Potter from the other Order members when we gathered at Grimmauld Place for our meetings with Dumbledore. Black and Tonks were still convalescing there, but had recovered enough to at least take part in the meetings. I was also still delivering weekly healing potions for Black, though the exchange was wordless and tense on both the giving and receiving end.

Everyone who'd been assigned to watch Potter whispered how, in the fortnight since leaving Hogwarts, she'd barely left her relatives house. If she did, it was at night, where she'd wander the neighborhood, sometimes stopping at a local playground where she would lay down on the roundabout, letting momentum carry her around and around until the early hours of the morning. Apparently, or so I had overhead Mr. Weasley whispering to Mrs. Weasley, she often had a bottle of alcohol with her for these nightly escapades, no doubt stolen from her Aunt and Uncle's liquor cabinet. Dumbledore had of course been made aware, but decided to give her more time and space before deciding to interfere. We were all on strict orders not to give ourselves away, as no-one was supposed to know we were there. We were to interfere only if she was in danger.

It was clear she had no idea about the Order watching over her, which was how Dumbledore wanted it. I understood Dumbledore's hesitancy to tell Potter about the Order, especially if his prediction about the connection between the Dark Lord and the child was correct. It would be a liability not just for the Order and I, but for the girl as well if the Dark Lord decided to take advantage of her fragile mind.

I quickly summoned one of the house elves to deliver the newly-made potions to Madame Pomfrey before pulling on my traveling cloak and walking out of the potions lab. I needed to get outside the grounds before I could apparate to Surrey.

As I walked by the open doors of the Great Hall I was taken back to the last day of term when the idiot Malfoy had tried to slap Potter. I'd noticed the group as soon as I entered for breakfast, thoroughly exhausted from being at Grimmauld Place assisting Madame Pomfrey with Black and Tonks for hours in the night. I quickened my pace towards the group, knowing things were bound to escalate. I picked out the word slut from the insults that Malfoy was hurling towards Potter, momentarily stunned that Malfoy was taking things that far. My rage escalated with each step I took towards the group, the exhaustion I had felt moments before replaced with fury.

The verbal lashing I'd given Draco was much worse than when he'd choked Potter in a hallway earlier in the year, which I'd only learned about after Diggory reported it. I'd been dismissive of the incident at first, telling Diggory that I was sure Potter was just exaggerating as usual. When he'd told me that she hadn't wanted to report it, and that I would regret not believing him when I saw how horrible the bruises were the following day, I'd reconsidered. Diggory had been near palpitating with anger, and my dismissive attitude hadn't helped. I wanted to kick myself and wring Malfoy's neck when I saw the thick turtleneck she wore to class the following day.

Humiliating Draco on the platform had been more satisfying than any punishment I could provide on my own, and it was impossible to keep the small smirk off my face. I'd noticed Potter seated in a carriage with her friends watching the incident, looking pale and haggard, but still smiling in amusement at what had just occurred on the platform. I'd nodded at her in acknowledgement before returning to the school. Yes, I tried to convey in the nod, I humiliated him to avenge you.

My desire to protect the child had become all-consuming in the past weeks, growing in strength each day. Being unable to see her was not helping me to assuage these feelings as I'd hoped. But anyone would feel sorry for her, I told myself. After the trauma she's endured, its no wonder you feel protective, as you would with any of your students.

I knew her emotions were all over the place, if the connection charm that tethered her bracelet to my ring was any indication. There were flashes of hot-white anger, of crushing loneliness, and of a giddy energy I would usually associate with shock. Most often it was either an aching sadness that I could feel pulsating throughout my whole body, making it impossible for me to work, or nothing at all. The connection charm was a tease to me more than anything, a tap into her mind and wellbeing but offering no way for me to help her. Even in my shift tonight, no matter what emotion I felt radiate through the ring, I would be powerless to help.

She doesn't want or need your help, fool. It's the same stages of grief you went through after Lily, I told myself.

I finely made it to the outside of the Hogwart's gates, a glow from the red sunset reflecting off the brass Hogwarts emblem mounted on the gate. I apparated, feeling the familiar squeezing sensation around my lungs and then a sudden release as I arrived. I quickly spotted Lupin hiding in the agreed upon spot on Mrs. Figgs property, giving a clear view of number 4 across the street.

"Severus," Lupin greeted me, always using my first name.

"Lupin" I replied as I walked to his side "Is she in the house?"

"She's in the back yard." Lupin had a few faded scratches around the tight, white collared shirt he was wearing. "They've had her working in this heat all day long."

"Will do her some good." I knew staying busy was vital to clear a grieving mind. "The sun is about to set anyway, its already cooled down."

Lupin let out a long-suffering sigh, "I'm glad Sirius is too ill for these shifts. If he saw his goddaughter like this, I shudder to think how he would retaliate."

"Yes, better for him to be his usual, lazy self and stay out of the way."

Lupin turned to face me then, "That's not fair and you know it. You know he'd do anything to help the Order, hell he almost just died on that mission with Tonks."

I inhaled deeply, not in the mood for this conversation "Dumbledore will be waiting for you Lupin, I'll take it from here."

Potter had just appeared in the front yard, wearing baggy and oversized clothes that were covered in dirt and plant matter.

"Right, I'll leave you to it." Lupin stepped back from me before apparating where I had just appeared a moment earlier.

I watched as the girl, pale and with sweat dripping from her face, bent over to turn the garden hose on before watering freshly pruned bushes around the house. She looked behind her shoulder for a moment, as if to make sure no-one in the house was watching her, before holding the hose to her mouth and taking big, slurping drinks. She quickly returned to watering the bushes, keeping a hand on her knee as if to steady herself.

She looks skinnier, I thought to myself. Though it was impossible to tell for sure with those ridiculous clothes. Who on Earth would wear that to garden in? Maybe she didn't want to get her other clothes dirty?

She quickly finished watering the plants before going through a gate to reach the back garden, reappearing with rubbish bins and dragging them out to the street. That task accomplished, she plopped down on the curb and sat with her head dangling between her knees, clearly exhausted. I felt a dull ache coming from the ring, probably indicating the return of another wave of crushing sadness. I decided to pocket the ring so I could think more clearly; I needed to be on top of it and I was just across the street from her if anything happened anyway, the ring would be of no help here.

"Girl!" I heard a man yell out from an open window in the house. All of the windows were hanging wide open, no doubt in an attempt to coax a breeze out of the sweltering day "Girl, get in here!"

Potter rose slowly before walking back to the house, carefully taking her shoes off before going inside. The door closed behind her, but it was easy to hear everything with the windows wide open. A familiar voice started to screech "Get those dirty clothes out of my house!" That was Petunia, I knew. I heard feet facing up a staircase before the sound of a shower started upstairs. Then there was the sound of cutlery against plates and I saw the family had gathered around the television, dinner plates sitting on TV trays in front of them. A massive boy, Petunia's son no doubt, had his plate piled so high with food, I was sure it would all be knocked to the floor whenever the boy laughed at something happening on the TV.

The sun set and the family looked to be retiring, Petunia cleaning up in the kitchen before heading upstairs. Did the girl even eat? I thought to myself, though I wouldn't be too shocked if she hadn't considering the nutritional supplements I had to brew for her every year after summer holidays. An upstairs window was suddenly pushed open a bit further, revealing a pale forearm with a snowy white owl perched on it. The owl flew off into the night to hunt, swopping low over the nearby trees before quickly disappearing from sight. The house was silent for about an hour and I sank to a seated position to give my sore feet a break, hoping the girl had gone to sleep after letting her owl out.

I saw a light appear in the kitchen window and could easily discern Potter quietly opening a cupboard and pulling out a muesli bar, which she finished off ravenously. She looked as if she could eat more, a lot more, but she turned the light off and slunk upstairs quiet and lithe as a cat. I heard bedsprings creek and a moment later Hedwig returned, flying through the same window she had been let out of.

Humidity saturated the air and it was a beautifully clear night with crickets chirping nearby. I looked heavenward at the star-filled sky and my body started to relax as I rolled my neck from side to side to try and loosen my stiff muscles. I returned my gaze back to the house, suddenly noticing a dark figure on the roof overhang near Potter's window. Drawing my wand and wishing my night vision was better than it was, I was about to sprint over to the house when I realized it was just Potter herself, climbing low on the roof before lightly dropping to the yard. She rose to her feet and began walking down the street, pulling a bottle out of her black jacket as she continued down the sidewalk.

It's going to be a very long night, I thought to myself as I rose to follow her.