I opened the dark brown door and took a seat before the man who finished putting on his white cloak. I know this room as well as I know mine, after all, I have been visiting it frequently for the past decade.

"So, the usual?" Doctor Andy asked.

I nodded.

He motioned for me to lie on the bed, took up his stethoscope, walked over and pulled up my shirt. "About the new medicine," he said as he was checking my major vessels, "any side effects?"

"No. Anything wrong?"

"Your pressure at the arteries are a bit high and some nerves are a little swollen," he paused awhile. "No headache?"

"No."

Five more minutes and he finished the body check. He sat down across me by the desk, scribbled some notes in the typical illegible doctor's scrawl on my profile, and bit on his pen to think about how to explain my condition to me. When Andy is thinking his eyes roll all over the place and he will avoid your gaze especially. I waited until his eyes settled on me, which usually signify the end of his thinking session, before I question him.

"So? How far am I gone?" I asked eagerly.

From his sad eyes I know that the day I dread is not far away.

After the session I Apparated back home. In the solitude of my room, I reflected on the past on my cushioned armchair. Since the day I knew that I might die any minute I hated the bed. After all, it is in that position which I will finally rest forever. No point reminding me about the cruel facts of my health.

I disobeyed direct orders from Alastor Moody and touched the portkey...and found myself in a cemetery. Only that it wasn't a normal cemetery. The tombstones reeked of Dark magic and were embrossed in red that resembles blood. I realized that this was the cemetery for Death Eaters!

There were so many weeping willows and ancient yews around me, surrounding me and overwhelming me. It was very creepy there and all I wanted was to find the Trio. Concentrating hard, I heard voices but I wasn't sure whose. It never occurred to me that I could be walking into a trap or worse, into a group of Death Eaters.

As I got closer, I stumbled upon a trail of blood and bodies of both Death Eaters and some of our people. Ignoring the voices, I followed the trail of blood and came to a tall hedge. I was positive that the voices originated from behind the hedge and belonged to Harry, Hermione and Voldemort. Just as I was guessing where Ron was, something hit the hedge real hard and came through it. Immediately, I recognized the red hair. That got me panicking. If Ron was sent flying through the hedge, it might mean that Voldemort is having the upper hand. Without further ado, I parted the hedge.

It was a very small area of clearing, perfect for dueling. Luckily, there was no other Death Eaters around. If not, I might be taken down even before I could say "Dumbledore".

Hermione was a metre or so in front of me. I scanned around and saw Harry beaten and bruised on the ground across the clearing. He must have been Stunned, because he was lying on the ground in such an awkward position. Perhaps several bones were broken.

That left Hermione alone to face Voldemort.

He was taking his own sweet time since he thought she had no chance against him. He faced her with an evil grin, smirking.

"Granger," his smirk got wider, "Finally I have revenge." He cackled. "No Weasley or Potter to come to your aid... you won't be as lucky as last time... it's just me and you this time."

She drew her wand and he let her. What arrogance!

He straightened his hand and muttered a curse.

I did as my instinct told me to- I jumped forward and shoved her sideways, and in turn, caught the curse full blast.

However, I didn't have the luck of escaping with a scar like Harry. At the instant the curse hit me I fell and lost consciousness.

I woke up in St. Mungo's a week later, hooked up to machines of all sorts. Doctors deemed my waking as a miracle, since my body showed no signs of me recovering.

Doctors tried to explain what happened to me. But their explanations all lead to the same point: that I might drop dead any moment. They ran tests on me everyday, monitored changes in my body after I got cursed, controlled my diet and did whatever they could to find the root of my problems. Apparently, Voldemort threw a known curse at me (not the Unforgivables though). It could be cured, but my body sort of mutated it and it became resistant to the usual treatment, so I ended up with the threat of dying any minute with puzzled doctors beside my bed trying to save me.

During my three months stay, Hermione visited twice. The first time, she came alone. She expressed her gratitude and asked for side effects of the curse. I bluffed her, saying there were none, and that after a while I would be as healthy as I used to be.

The second time she brought along Harry and Ron. But anyone who had eyes could see that there was something more than friends between her and Harry. When he casually held her hand, she radiated happiness. Like any other woman in love, she glowed. On the other hand, Ron was very quiet during their visit, which was not like him at all. I wondered if he was disturbed by them getting together.

After they left, I blessed the couple inwardly.

Since the day I loved her, I know that I can never be the lucky one. I also know that the only thing I can do is to bless her, to wish her partner and her good luck and cast my love on her. I know she's strong, that she doesn't need physical protection, but inside she's still human. She still needs love like anyone does. I can only try hard to be her protector, to bury my love for her so deep inside that no one ever will know and be her guardian, her benefactor.

Maybe it was foolishness on my part, to love a person who can never love you back. To continue loving that person even though she has already found her own happiness. I don't really think I will ever stop loving her.

Maybe I love her the moment I saw her at the Gryffindor table. Maybe, when she coached me potions. Or maybe it was because of our sessions at the library.

I woke up one day and suddenly realised that I love her.

But still, loving her probably more than anybody else on earth is no use. My love has not made her happier in any way. It has only protected her from harm, because loving her made protecting her my instinct. And in my current conditions I don't even know if I can go on and be her guardian when Harry can't. The whole lot of my love can't make her as happy as a small portion of her partner's can.

So from the day I was conscious of my love for her, I guarded myself. I learnt to accept her crushes, learnt to let her go. Go to where she deems fit, where she feels she is happy. A part of me will be sad that she's leaving, but will bless her and hope for her all the same. The other part will remain at the same spot she left, waiting for her return, waiting to help her recover.

So many a times she went and returned, each time less heart-broken than the last. But from the second she walked in with Harry, I knew that this time, my wait would be in vain.

I know that she has found what she set out to.