A/N: My first story ever posted! W00T! I'd really like reviews. Good, bad or indifferent! As long as it's constructive I'll do my best to change and make this story and future ones better. So here goes, tell me what you think.

How had she gotten to this point? When had she made the mental transfer from doctor-patient to friend? It was a lonely job, being his friend. No one wanted to associate with the former, thought still considered loyal by the populace, Death Eater and the woman in charge of his rehabilitation.

When the ministry had decided that extensive therapy might be able to bring back some of Voldemort's followers into proper wizarding society most of those who were actually members of said society had doubts, if not out right disdain for the project. She had been chosen to be the first, hopefully of many, to work with patients. And the very first patient to go through the process would be Barty Crouch Jr. He had originally been set to receive the terrifying Dementor's Kiss 7 months after his capture but he seemed perfect for the program. Primarily, he was willing. This was more than could be said for most of the prisoners in Azkaban. She found it amazing that so many would rather rot away in that horrid prison awaiting either death or the aforementioned Kiss but that was how powerful the Dark Lord was. And considering the recent break out of several of his followers, she supposed they all thought there was a third option. But not Crouch. He appeared to have lost that hope, which was good for her, and hopefully for him as well.

She peered down at him, lying motionless in a bed, stashed away in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. The safest place for both of them. A lot of people wanted Crouch dead, or at least tortured, and they were willing to do it themselves if the Ministry wouldn't. Of course a lot of people also wanted her dead merely due to proxy. She thought it remarkable that Dumbledore allowed him back into the castle. Crouch's betrayal was still in the forefront of many minds, and most definitely the head masters, but it was also well known that Albus Dumbledore was a forgiving man. She genuinely hoped that he would practice some of that forgiveness when Crouch regained consciousness.

She knew why Crouch had done what he did: to protect her from Malfoy. Not to mention send a warning to anyone left in the castle that might be vengeful or sympathetic to the Dark Lord. He'd have none of it in Hogwarts, and most especially in the vicinity of her. It had been an ongoing problem for them. Half the school, those who believed Potter and Dumbledore, hated Crouch for his betrayal. And the other half thought Crouch should've been left where he was due to his past. Then there was a handful that didn't fall with either group, like Malfoy, and they were the most irritating. At least they had been until a few hours ago, when they had become dangerous. In their eyes, and their parent's eyes Crouch had turned on them and more importantly the Dark Lord. Evidently someone decided that action must be taken. It had started out small, eventually escalating to the events of the current evening. It was yet another river to cross in their time together.

She'd watched him sleep countless times but this was different. It felt almost like a vigil. She supposed that made sense. He had indeed saved her. Without hesitation or prior thought to the outcome. Barty Crouch Jr. became her hero. No one but her might ever see it that way but it was the truth. The candle on his bedside table flickered violently, as though it would go out. It suddenly transported her to earlier that day.

She had been alone in a corridor, suddenly she was being bull rushed by too large men. Slammed against the stone wall, the crack from her head had echoed, at least she thought the sound hadn't come from inside her head at the time. Malfoy's smug smirk and pretty boy features came into focus. He looked pleased and that never accompanied something good for the person he was grinning at. She had tried to take action of some kind. Scream, run, kick, anything to alert a random chance passer-by. He was moving in on her, taunting his prey. Just as he was about to open his mouth and speak a brown streak shot into view, grabbing Malfoy and tackling him to the ground. It was Crouch.

She was dropped by her human restraints as they ran in the opposite direction of the escalating fight between Malfoy and Crouch. She could hear Malfoy whimpering as fists made connection with his face. A flash of red appeared between the opponents and the previous brown streak went flying again, this time against his will.

She grabbed inside her robes for her wand. Drawing and pointing it into Draco's face. Crouch had saved her, it was only right that she return the favor. She knew that Crouch had no wand and was now unconscious to boot, but she needn't worry because Draco was a true Malfoy and promptly peeled out of the corridor. She assumed any direction was better off to the boy than the one he had been headed in. She found a near by student, who had come looking for the source of the uproar, and sent them for help. Eventually winding up in her current position, standing at a bedside vigilance of a former dark wizard who had yet to awaken from his injuries.

She could hear shuffling and voices outside the hospital wing. It sounded like Professor Dumbledore and the Minister were attempting to have a hushed conversation and failing miserably.

Deciding to leap into the lion's den and be done with it she left her post and headed for the now heated commotion in the hall.

"We were wrong Albus, I'm sorry, but Crouch is just too dangerous."

"What would you do with him Cornelius? Throw him back in Azkaban and let the Dementor's have him? You've given him a chance at freedom; you can't just take it away."

"Exactly! We gave him a second chance and look what he did with it?! He attacked a student!"

"Actually, the student attacked me." All eyes fell onto her.

"What did you say Miss Birch?" Apparently Draco left a few parts out during his assured discussion with the headmaster.

"I said the student attacked me. Crouch was defending me when Malfoy did this to him," she replied evenly and continued with the same calm tone, "If anything, Minister Fudge, it proves that the therapy is working."

"How so? He stilled attacked someone, even if it was with so called 'good intentions'."

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye returned after a long period of being absent as he spoke, "He attacked the son of not only a well known pureblood family but of a fellow Death Eater. To save a half blood witch whose job it is to set him against his former master."

"Precisely Professor," she was glad someone was on their side. "What was he supposed to do in that situation? He had no wand, and the closest thing he has to a friend right now was at the business end of Mr. Malfoy's wand, who I might add probably didn't have the best of intentions. He did what anyone would've done. And for that I don't think he should be punished."

"Alright, alright. I'll allow his rehabilitation to continue, but this can't get out Albus. It would be detrimental to the project."

"I'll take care of it Minister," Dumbledore said assuring him. Fudge turned on his heel and exited the hall.

She turned to the headmaster, "I assume 'detrimental to the project' translates to 'bad PR for the Ministry'?"

"Essentially. Do you truly believe he's getting better Scarlett?"

"Well sir, he's been here 8 months and this is the first time he's had a violent outburst, so I'd say he's making progress, yes." The headmaster couldn't help but smile wryly at her answer.

"Oh I agree completely, but how much better do you think he can get?" He inquired sobering.

"Honestly sir your guess is as good as mine. No one thought he would get this far, so who can tell what lies ahead but I'll be here to see it through, that I am certain of."

"Barty couldn't have asked for a better person to look after him. Get some rest Scarlett, I'll have Madame Pomfrey send for you if his condition changes." She nodded in agreement, bid the headmaster good night and headed for her quarters.

Upon arrival she put on a kettle for tea and sat down to think. What was next? Where did they go from here? The kettle squealed and she poured her tea, trying to decide what to do. She thought back to her earlier question, when had things changed? She finally decided that the best way to answer the questions of the present and future were to look to the past.

Standing up from her chair by the hearth she moved to her desk and pulled out a large brown leather book. Its only markings were a few embellishments down the spine and a cross with forked ends on the front cover. Opening the book, she sat back down and began to read.

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