SOULLESS ° BLAISE ZABINI

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"PLEASE! PLEASE SAVE HIM!" the woman begged, her words a rising shriek. She reached out, imploring, her elegant fingers splaying out in desperation. "He's my baby!" Her voice weakened to a breath. "He's my boy..." She sobbed, her tears dropping down her nose and onto her hands, which began to shake. "Please. Please." Dropping to her knees, she choked on a cry that refused to come. "He's all I have left of my husband."

The nurse shook her head. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry. He's a weak boy. We can't save him." She bent down. Suddenly, the woman's desperate sobs turned to anger.

"We are witches, are we not? We have magic. So find some way to save him! Do it!"

"There is no way. There is no plant, no healing spell. He is not sick. He is weak." The nurse put a calloused hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Come on, ma'am. Get back into bed." She helped the shivering woman up, supporting her weight, though she was a slip of a thing, very pretty, and not heavy at all. She put the woman into the ward bed, smoothing the pristine white covers whilst glancing around the ward to see if they had woken anyone up.

"Please," the woman whispered over and over again.

"What is your name, dearie?" the nurse asked, dropping all formalities in her attempt to calm the patient.

"Mendax Zabini," she said, pulling away impatiently.

"Are you married?" The nurse glanced over at the cradle with the failing baby in it, listening to its feeble breaths.

"I- I was." The woman's voice shook. "But he died a few months ago. This is all I have left of him." The nurse knew she meant her little son.

"I'm sorry for you, sweetheart." She knew she was treating her like a child, but she was little more than a girl, too young to have a child. Maybe that was why the boy was so weak - his mother wasn't old enough to give him what he needed. Sighing, she looked down at her hands. Then there was a quick shift of weight in the bed, a scrabble on the bedside table with the dim lit lamp, and then a wand was pointed fiercely at the nurse's throat.

"Tell me." The nurse tried to scramble away, reaching for her own wand. "I can do it, you know," the woman said with a smirk. "I've done it before." Choked up with fear, the nurse shook her head. Now she was the one pleading.

"I - there is no - " She looked around, desperate for someone to wake up.

"Please," the woman whispered. Her eyes had turned sorrowful, innocent again. "Please help me save him." She lowered the wand. "I don't want to hurt anyone." She placed the wand on the table. "I just want to save my son." The nurse met her eyes, her dark brown eyes filled with dependence and youth and too much sorrow.

"There is a way," she whispered. Mendax's face lit up, her tears stopping.

"Tell me," she demanded.

"Not here!" The nurse took her skinny wrist and pulled her down the corridor, her heart thudding. She would lose her positions if she was caught. The door swung open silently without its usual squeal, a sign she took to be a good one. Quickly, she dragged the woman, whose fumbling steps seemed far too loud, down a narrow corridor. Shadows danced over the walls, sending shivers up the nurse's spine. Through the windows everything was black, and she couldn't risk turning on any lights in case they were discovered. Slipping a hand into her pocket, she drew out her wand.

"Don't!" Mendax hissed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the nurse whispered. "Lumos." A tiny light flared in the darkness. She fumbled at her waist for a key, then the lock of the door opposite them. When it opened, she pushed Mendax in and followed, shutting the door behind her, before she turned to the woman who was looking around her.

"What is this place?" Mendax asked, awed at the shelves of remedies and potions that appeared as the nurse lit the candles.

"Secret," the nurse said bluntly, pressing her ear to the door. "And a place you should not be in."

"I need to be here," she said with self-importance. "I need to save my son."

"And I will help you," the nurse promised. "But be quiet while I tell you how." Mendax's eyes lit up with eagerness.

"Be quick," she said. A shadow crossed her face. "What if he dies while I'm not there?"

"He won't," the nurse assured her, though she was not sure herself. "Now, listen." She rummaged through the shelves until she found what she was looking for - a vial closed with a stopper, swirling with a black, inky substance inside. "This will save your son."

"Give it to me!" Mendax demanded, reaching out for it. "I don't have much time."

"Wait!" the nurse hissed. "This is a piece of dementor soul." Instantly, Mendax recoiled. "I thought so. But it will make your son strong enough to live." A flicker of conflict swept over Mendax's face, but she nodded.

"Anything."

"But you must listen. The longer your son has this in him, the more it will suck at his soul, until there is nothing left."

"What?" Mendax felt tears stinging her eyes. "There must be another way!"

"I can assure you, there is none. It - It might be kinder to let him die."

"No!" Mendax blurted. "No, he is my son! I will not kill him. I would be a bad mother." The nurse pressed her lips together, not choosing to mention that it was just as bad an act to let her son grow up without compassion, love or happiness.

"It will affect everything about him," the nurse continued bluntly. "He won't be nice. Or kind. He will never find love -"

"Shut up! You're trying to stop me. Well, I won't. I will save him. For my husband. For me." She snatched the vial. "What do I do with this?"

The nurse realised the woman would not be swayed. Coldness prickled over her skin. She had thought to dissuade Mendax with the darkness this cure would bring. "Don't use it, Mendax," she begged. "Don't you know what it will do?"

"I will save my boy. You told me to use this. You told me it is the only way. I will brave anything to save my son."

"You won't be braving anything! It is your son who will suffer." Mendax's eyes brimmed with tears.

"I will sacrifice the way I want him to feel for me. Now tell me what I have to do with this."

"Give it to him."

"What?"

"Let it out the vial and give it to him. It will make itself at home inside his soul," the nurse spat. "Then leave. And don't ever come back."

Mendax frowned, before pushing open the door and scampering away down the corridor. The nurse sank to her knees. She knew, out of fear, she had done something very, very wrong.

[plot credit to somniatis_ ]