I hear leaves crunch beneath his feet outside

As he mutters to himself, alone with his thoughts,

As I retreat inside the tent with my own.

But I know that I can’t leave him here on his own,

Even when the dangers of the world outside

Seem less malignant than Horcrux-poisoned thoughts.

As the watch shifts, sleep grants him reprieve from those thoughts,

His face in slumber less tortured, at least on the outside,

But he already has to battle serpentine dreams on his own.

I take his place outside, ashamed that my treacherous thoughts even considered leaving him on his own.