"Never assign me a night shift again," I said, collapsing into the plush chair situated across from the Headmasters' desk. Dumbledore had his hands steepled in front of his face as he looked at me, eyes twinkling.

"And why is that, Severus?"

I let out a deep sigh, exaggerating the movement of my chest as I exhaled "Where to even begin?" I said, letting my head fall down into my hands.

I'd been uninterested when the three muggle teens had approached, none of them posing a remarkable threat in their drunk and drugged-out state. I'd been able to overhear the entire conversation they'd initiated with Rose, hoping the group would move on quickly and that Rose would return back to the Dursley's soon. Before the group had arrived, she'd lain still for hour after hour as she rotated on the roundabout, working her way through the bottle she'd brought with her. My ring had flared with pain multiple times as I watched her, feeling her loss as she laid, broken, under the open night sky. But then, when she'd accepted the pills the muggle girl had offered her, looking more elated and alive then I'd ever seen her, I'd sensed such acute relief flow through the ring. As if a wish she'd harbored for ages had just been granted.

Rose was working all day and not sleeping in the night, that much was clear. She must've known that she couldn't continue as she had been for much longer, and the pills would surely help with that. I had tried many times to take my pain away after Lily had died, concocting new potions and desperately brewing to try and find something to help the aching hole I felt in my chest when I woke each morning; to stop the nightmares from coming in the night. Apart from developing an addiction to sleeping potions, which I'd long ago curbed, I hadn't been successful. I couldn't exactly blame Rose for trying to do the same thing, but I knew better now, and this was dangerous for her. She was so young, and if this became a habit so early in her life I shuddered to think what it might turn into. And these muggle drugs were less than reliable, who knew what the stimulants might contain traces of.

I hadn't confided what had happened to Bill Weasley when he'd come to take over the watch in the morning, instead murmuring under my breath that Rose had been in her room since breakfast this morning. At least they'd given her food today, unlike yesterday evening, though half a grapefruit and dry toast wasn't ideal.

"She's so infuriating, Albus!" I said, my mind returning to the conversation at hand "Such a dimwitted child who can't ever be trusted to make a rational decision!"

Dumbledore hadn't responded right away, giving me a moment to mull over what I needed to say before giving his input.

"She's started taking stimulants, Albus. She isn't sleeping, she's barely eating and now she's accepting muggle drugs!"

Dumbledore lowered his hands, his usual aura of energy and strength giving way to a look of concern and worry.

"I want to get her out of there Severus; I don't want her to start spiraling even more, but she must stay for as long as possible to ensure the blood protection granted by living in her family home remains strong. I'll give it another week, maybe two if she's resilient enough, then we'll bring her to Grimmauld Place. Being with Sirius will help, and we'll see if the Weasley's will consider relocating the family for the summer too."

"I don't know if she'll last that long, Albus. And with your theory about the connection between her mind and the Dark Lord's, he might try and take advantage at any point."

Albus sighed, reaching across his desk to stroke Fawkes who rested sleepily on his perch.

"I hoped to do better than this. I hoped having the weight of her parents' murders on her shoulders would be the only loss she'd experience, but I suppose what fate has in store for her, with the position she's in, she's bound to experience this again. We can't protect her from it."

"I know" I said, perhaps too sharply.

Dumbledore didn't comment on my reply, but continued "And we can't take the pain away, much as I wish to shield her. She's too stubborn and independent to accept help in dealing with this grief, but we must try and get through to her, Severus. I can't watch her do this to herself, I care too much."

"And preferably she'll recover without drugs" I retorted, understanding the logic of Albus's decision to wait on interfering for now, but not overly happy with it.

He nodded, still lost in thought "She must learn how to be more resilient, we'll get discreet counselors involved soon if need be, though given the circumstances I'd prefer to help her more privately. The Prophet is having a field day questioning her sanity already, thanks to Fudge"

I seethed at this, the lunacy of what had been written, in particular by Rita Skeeter, never ceased to amaze me. Half of what was speculated by the Prophet was utter rubbish, though people were taking it as fact. Wasting time by not preparing for the coming war. And while Potter had lied and tricked her way through school since first year, the truth of what she'd witnessed in the third tournament was undeniable.

"Will you send a few potions to her for me, Albus? I'll put together a few vials, sleeping potions and calming draughts and the like, I'd much rather she take those then the pills on a regular basis, and she'll be more ready to accept them if she thinks they came from you rather than me."

"Of course, that's a good idea Severus. I'll include a note, but please write out the dosage instructions too."

I nodded, and that very night watched from the owlery as the package flew off in the claws of a school barn-owl, hoping she'd use the fresh potions as a crutch rather than the stolen alcohol and pills.

—-

A week had passed since I'd last snuck out at night and I didn't feel the urge to go to the playground once I'd gotten my hands on the stimulant pills. I could easily work all day on whatever useless task Aunt Petunia gave me, then take another pill at night to keep me up. I would usually draw or read, my mind hyper-focused on whatever task was in front of me. Yesterday I'd taken the pills too close together, and had to go for a long run in the evening to occupy myself without climbing the walls, as the kid Todd had said could happen if I wasn't occupying myself.

I was going strong on my third day of using them when a package had arrived, thankfully in the evening when the Dursleys' eyes were glued to the television and not looking outside. I'd unwrapped it quickly, confused since Ron and Hermione had both just sent me food packages. I'd recognized the note as being from Dumbledore immediately, saying he should've given me more potions before I'd left Hogwarts but he was sending more now, that Snape had put together some vials again and I should follow his recommendations. Snape's spidery handwriting crawled across a folded note, explaining what each potion was, when I should take it, and which ones I was not to take together at the same time under any circumstances. He'd underlined that last instruction as if I would be stupid enough to ignore it. He'd also included another copy of the Potions summer homework assignment, a ridiculously difficult essay on Growing Solutions, with a note that read "No time like the present."

"Prick" I'd said when I'd pulled it from the package, tossing it beneath my desk only to pull it back out again an hour later when the stimulants demanded I find something to keep my mind busy.

I had started taking the potions the following morning, going through the sleeping draught like mad because it was the most effective. Thankfully Aunt Petunia had laid off on my workload, consumed as she was about preparing for the upcoming holiday, so I was able to sleep most of the day. I still itched for the stimulants at night, and usually gave into taking one, knowing it was throwing my sleep schedule way off track, but it was so much easier to avoid the Durselys altogether that way.

I left my room early on the morning of their departure, knowing Uncle Vernon would scream if the suitcases he'd lined up by the front door weren't neatly tucked into the boot of his car the moment they were up and ready to leave. They'd decided to eat breakfast at the airport, and promptly at 7:00 in the morning Aunt Petunia marched me over to Mrs. Figg's house before climbing in Uncle Vernon's idling car and driving away.

Mrs. Figg offered me tea and biscuits as she flicked through her old cat photo albums, telling me stories about her dearly departed pets as I sipped from a tea cup patterned with paw prints. I'd written to Dumbledore yesterday about the Dursley's vacation, begging him to let me move into Grimmauld Place while they were gone or preferably for the rest of the summer, but he hadn't responded yet. The Dursleys would be gone for two weeks, and it would be a long two weeks if my days would be spent with Mrs. Figg, though I knew I would be well-fed for a change. I'd taken a soothing balsam after rising that morning, but I already found my thoughts drifting and began feeling anxious, excusing myself to go to the loo and popping a pill into my mouth before returning to the sitting room.

The stimulant kicked in quickly, and my finger began to rhythmically tap my knee as I rocked back and forth in the rocking chair across from Mrs. Figg, a tabby cat curled in my lap. Mrs. Figg looked up from her photo albums, "Perhaps you'd like to play something on the piano for me? It's been so long since I've heard you play."

"Great!" I said, rising quickly and unceremoniously dumping the tabby onto the floor as I made my way to the piano, grateful for something to keep my mind busy.

I hadn't been playing for very long and had barely played at all in the past school year, though Professor Flitwick had actively encouraged me to.

I quickly tuned the piano, knowing it probably hadn't been since the last time I'd played for Mrs. Figg. I picked a mellow piece, chords floating lightly and holding in the air before the melody built to its conclusion. I'd made mistakes, even with the added advantage of the stimulant, but Mrs. Figg had clapped enthusiastically and asked me to play another song.

"Actually, do you mind if I go on a run first?" I asked, already wearing my athletic gear which I'd donned in anticipation of the day ahead.

"Not at all dear, just don't be too long. I do enjoy listening to you play."

"Of course, I'll play again when I get back."

I finished the remaining dregs of my tea before I left, thankful to get out of the stifling heat that had permeated Mrs. Figgs home despite how early in the day it was. I picked up my pace as I turned out of privet drive, heading towards the A3. The rhythmic pounding of my feet steadied my mind as I focused on the task at hand, and I quickly began to overheat as the sun blazed down on me. Cursing myself for not bringing suncream, I could feel my freckled skin start to burn as I drew closer to the neighborhood park, quickly stopping to slurp from the water fountain there before I continued on. I reached an underpass and decided to slow down for a moment to rest in the shade it provided. Putting my hands on my hips, I slowed down before coming to a standstill, suddenly feeling a cold, swift wind pick up and whip through the tunnel, chilling the sweat that clung to my back and neck. The days had been so warm since I'd returned from Hogwarts that I hadn't thought to check the weather before going out, but it was quickly becoming a gale outside and had started to rain. I had already been gone too long as it was, so I turned and prepared to run back to Mrs. Figg's through the storm, hoping the tread in my much-abused trainers would keep me from slipping onto the wet, rough asphalt.

Just as I made it out of the underpass, feeling the icy rain hit my skin, a horribly familiar feeling of dread came over me and I raised my head to see three dementors rapidly descending down upon me.