h. five

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Shaky, pale fingers slowly traced the wooden shelves covering the room, not an inch of the walls was to be detected, the shelves starting from an inch away from the floor, and finishing up as books touched the ceiling.

He's known what each and every book in the room was about, and exactly where it was placed, but he couldn't bring himself to give the girl the book she was asking for.

"A book about such dark magic, for such a young girl as yourself?" he whispered, glass eyes not having to see her to know she couldn't be past 17. Not even a legal adult in the wizardy world.

"Sir," Sawyer was getting annoyed. He was taking his time with her, it's been two whole hours of her sitting and looking at him crawl around the room, torturingly slow, tracing his way in the dust on the shelves, every once in a while reaching for a book. "I've told you before. I am not looking for it because I want to do something. I am looking for it to kill the Dark Lord."

"All of the more reason not to give it to you. Delusional little girl," the man sighed. Sawyer was prepared. No one believed the Dark Lord was back, of course, but she knew. "Thinking you can beat the Dark Lord!" he laughed, whipping out his wand, glass eyes not helping as he aimed the wand right at her. "Any last words?" he asked, and she looked at the wand in her hands. There wasn't even a need for that, was there?

"I was just about to ask you that, sir."

He looked at where her voice came from, and within a moment something lowered his wand. It couldn't have been her though, she was so far away just a second ago.

"Wha-"

"I'm sorry, but I really think death by my hands would be much more merciful than what your lord has planned for you, and so soon too. Don't worry, you'll leave me hurt too." She placed a gentle hand on his forehead, the other on his left arm, shutting her eyes- that no longer shone green at that moment, but were a dull red.

"Goodnight Gerard Allen."

::

Tom Riddle was a messy torturer.

Sawyer looked down on herself, he was supposed to kill Gerard so horribly, after so many hours of torture, and the man did nothing but be loyal. No one would even know he died- no one would even know his loyalty to the Dark Lord.

Sawyer's knees failed her.

His death was quick and peaceful, but her body ached, and the blood stained her clothes.

Did he realize she was almost a saving grace for him? All the pain she's taken on herself when she killed him, the murders he would commit in just a few months that would haunt his nights? All that she helped him avoid?

Her body wouldn't be able to take it for much longer, she realized as she couldn't climb to her feet.

At the end of the day, Tom Riddle left him to bleed to death. And at this rate, she will run out of blood soon.

Her mind was too cloudy to disapparate to Grimmauld, and the nausea was making it even more impossible to climb to her feet. The metallic taste in her mouth was making even the last idea she had sound faint in her ears, as her drumming heart deafened her.

"Kreacher."

::

"Filthy blood traitor," Kreacher walked right into dinner, looking straight at Molly Weasley's eyes. "Kreacher need help of the blood traitor."

"First, Kreacher, you could not call her a blood traitor when you ask for help." Sirius commented smartly from beside Harry, looking smugly at his house elf, that was looking as sour as usual since Sawyer's disappeared. When the house elf turned to his master, Sirius saw a look he hasn't seen in too long however.

The last time he saw Kreacher look like that was when Regulus was burning with a fever and was admitted for ten whole days to St. Mungo's.

"Kreacher, is something the matter?"

"The b..." Kreacher stopped. "The lady could help." he looked at Mrs. Weasley with a pleading on his ugly face.

"Well, I..." Mrs. Weasley stood. "Of course."

He grabbed her hand, and the two disappeared with a crack.

"Where do you think he's taken her?" Harry wondered.

"Could be just about anywhere," Sirius said suspiciously. "I still don't trust that piece of--"

"Hold on." Remus stopped him. "Kreacher wouldn't talk to any of us, right? Even when he insults us, he almost never speaks directly to any of us. Not unless it has something to do with Sawyer. And for him to ask help from... well, what he defines as a blood traitor?"

"You don't think..."

"Sawyer's back?"

Fred and George disappeared with a crack, appearing at the door to Sawyer's room, the one that once was Sirius' brother. The door was slightly ajar, and they could hear their mother mumbling in worry, as they pushed it open.

"Mum?" Fred wondered.

"Sawyer!" George realized. She was wearing pink and white plaid shorts, and a tank top, and both of them were soaking with blood. George's stomach was doing flips.

Her pale complexion was paler than ever, and Kreacher was standing by her bed silently, but he wasn't looking at her. He was watching a moving picture that was hanging next to the bed, a woman waving at the photographer, next to a handsome dark haired young man, who resembled Sirius very much.

Remus and Sirius reached the top of the stairs and quickly entered.

"Crap," Sirius managed as he rushed to Molly's side. "What can I do? Is there anything I could do to help?"

"No, no, I am stopping the bleeding now," she assured. "She'll be safe, she will just need a lot of rest."

But all Remus was seeing was the corpse of his daughter, pale, and bleeding, and he couldn't help.

"I did this," he whispered. If he was there for her, if he would make her feel safe, if she would feel like she could turn to him for help, it would never happen.

"I did this to her."

::

When her eyes opened at last, Remus was sipping from his coffee, reading in a book about Astrology he probably found amongst Sawyer's scattered books. She couldn't bring herself to say something, since there was something so peacefully nostalgic about him sitting next to her bed and just minding his own business. As a young child Sawyer was sick quite often, and this situation happened often.

Plus, her throat was burning and she couldn't croack anything without sounding like a basilisk' hiss.

His eyes jumped from a word to another, sentence after sentence, turning a page, and then another, and then he raised a glance just for a moment, before averting it back to the book.

It took him a few seconds more, before his brown eyes turned to her again. "Sawyer?"

She grinned, waving casually. Sitting up, she felt the pain of Gerard's injuries, and sighed. "May I have some water?"

"Of course!" he grabbed a new bottle of water, that stood next to his own used one. "Drink slowly. Not all at once." She nodded, obeying.

They settled into silence, and it took only a few minutes for Remus to set down his book.

"I wanted to say I am sorry."

Sawyer looked at him, confused. "What for?"

"For everything I've done and said ever since I found out. And mostly, about all of the things I didn't say."

"It's okay Remus," she grinned, and Remus didn't recognize his daughter in that face. Her eyes were dull, and her smile was fake. Her cheeks caved in, and paler than ever. It seemed as though just like her biological father, something terrible has happened to her.

"What happened?" he asked as he took a seat next to her on the bed. She shrugged, feeling her wounds aching with the action.

"Nothing much, that's just life now."

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