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"You little fool!" he spits out angrily, paying no heed to the 11-inch piece of holly she points directly at his chest. Her arm shakes with effort and her eyes are so unfocused that he'd easily be able to disarm her before she could even utter an 'Expelliarmus'.
He wastes no time attending to her injuries. He asks no questions, makes no demands for answers. He knows for all her jealousy, Petunia would never dare harm the girl in such a way; she knows retribution would come swift and she fears the Magical World more than she loathes it. While he doesn't know much about Vernon Dursley, he is certain that his wife would do what she could to keep him in line – that leaves only the son unaccounted for.
It is no wonder the girl abhors bullying – she has been a victim of it long enough to detest witnessing it happen to others. With the desire to champion those unable to defend themselves, it was no wonder the girl had been sorted into Gryffindor. Was that not the same reason her mother had found herself there?
Not for the first time, he wants to curse Albus Dumbledore and his meddling. It was he who insisted on placing the girl with her horrible Muggle relatives, it was he who forbade any contact with her until her arrival for her first year of schooling. And even though it was made clear in certain aspects of her behavior that her home life was less than stellar, it was he who insisted she return to them for the summer.
And if that wasn't bad enough, once word got out that that homicidal maniac Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, it is he who sent him - Severus Snape - to Surrey to check on the girl only to find her at the mercy of her piggish cousin and his cronies.
Now he is face to face with the girl, feeling those eyes of deep green regarding him with confusion, apprehension, and -- Merlin help him-- gratitude. This cannot do – he cannot bear feeling those eyes – Lily's eyes – regarding him in such a way! After all, is it not his fault her life has come to such a pass?
With her scrapes and bruises healed, he draws the girl to her feet. It takes effort to regard her with his usual dark sneer – especially what with the hopeful looks she keeps sending at him. Surely she doesn't expect him to take her away from here?
"Potter," he barks out.
She starts, much the same way she does in his classroom. "Sir?"
"I trust you can find your way from here?"
The hope dims and then fades from her eyes, but the gratitude remains. "Yes sir," she says, turning away from him. "Thank you again for helping me."
And she means it. He knows she means it, much the same way he knows she will never forget it. And why would she – clearly she has known so little kindness in life, that even the smallest act would remain etched upon her heart forever.
He has sworn an Oath to protect her at all costs. This means he cannot afford to be kind. "Potter!" he snaps.
She stops, turning to face him again. "Sir?"
His wand is heavy in his hand, but not as heavy as the guilt already weighing on his heart. "Obliviate."
~end