He leaned down and kissed her neck, enjoying sucking on the supple skin. Her throat exposed to him and her pulse just beneath the surface he was kissing. His hand rubbed her bicep, then slid down and introduced his thumb to the soft inside of her elbow. Running his grip down the rest of her forearm until the pad of his thumb ran over those faded marks spelling out that awful slur his aunt had done. He remembered when it happened, he was just relieved she was still alive, but instead her very life was in danger. He heard her screams, her crying, the Cruciatus curse torturing her until she broke. He could hardly bear it, watching this girl go through the worst pain imaginable because he was weak and couldn’t interfere. She had looked over at him many times, eyes begging for his help as he was in the farthest corner of the room. He could only look away with regret.