The Little One with Green Eyes

Epilogue

-December 8, 1991-
After a few hours of waiting, Draco finally woke up. During the wait time, Voldemort refused to let Little One go, so he spent the entire time with a lightly dozing toddler hugged tight to his chest. Death hovered near the pair, and it was obvious that the being didn't want to leave them alone.

Voldemort informed the Malfoys that their missing son was safe, much to Narcissa's relief, and within minutes of informing her, the Malfoy matriarch had arrived at his bedside. Lucius, still in recovery from Dumbledore's attack, was still at home.

Voldemort had been holding Little One when the boy woke, gently carding his fingers through Little One's hair, reminding himself that the child was safe. Draco made an inquiring mutter before he opened his eyes, a soft, "Mother?" escaping his lips.

"Oh, Dragon!" Narcissa cried, gently tracing her son's cheek. "I was so worried!"

"Where's Little One?!" Draco suddenly cried, jumping up. "We have to get him out---"

"Little One is safe, Mr. Malfoy," Voldemort drawled, interrupting the child before he could do anything drastic. "Although, your desire to protect him is appreciated."

Draco stared at Voldemort for a long second, his mouth wide as he owlishly blinked. Finally, he said, "Oh," and allowed himself to fall back against the bed. "That's good. I was scared he was hurt."

"Little One escaped without injuries, as did you," Voldemort said.

"But only just!" Narcissa cried. "What were you thinking?! How did you get there? Why would you just leave like that?!"

"I had to!" Draco cried. "It was my job!"

"Your job?" Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"The lady said I was a Guardian," Draco said matter-of-factly. "She took me there."

"The lady?"

"Well, I think she was a lady," Draco said sheepishly. "I couldn't actually see her. But she sounded like a lady! She was really cold and she told me I had to save him."

Voldemort looked at Death out of the corner of his eye, only to see Death shake his head, "Was not me," he said. "Sounds like my Dear Sister."

"Sister...?" Voldemort whispered in confusion. He frowned. "If you'll excuse us, I'll let you two talk." Voldemort said, standing up from his chair, adjusting his hold on Little One as the toddler sleepily sniffed and burrowed closer to Voldemort's chest.

Narcissa nodded, and Voldemort knew she was going to lecture Draco the second he left. He thanked Draco one last time for rescuing his son before he left, shutting the door behind him. The second the door clicked shut, Voldemort turned to face Death.

"Your sister?" he asked. "The same one who put Little One in danger?"

"That's offensive," a cool, feminine voice drawled from behind him. Voldemort whirled around to see a woman standing behind him, her long white hair contrasting against her mocha skin. Her eyes glowed a light green and a smile stretched across her face, highlighting her overly defined cheekbones. "I did everything for a reason, you know."

"Ah, Sister," Death said, leaning forward to lightly embrace her. "You had me on the ropes, I must admit."

"I told you all would work out," she said, her eyes twinkling in a very Dumbledore-esque pattern. "Are you not pleased?"

"I am not," Voldemort cut in, his hold on Little One tightening. "Why would you do this?! Why would you put us through that?! I thought my son was dead!"