Author's Note: So I don't own Harry Potter, and I also don't own the phrase "I'm not that easy to kill" I borrowed it from First Knight... awesome movie.

Thanks so much for reading. Please review. It makes me feel loved.

Chapter 7

SPOV

I awoke to gentle hands softly caressing my face. It felt like a warm, damp cloth was being used to wipe my brow. There were delicate fingers stroking my hair. It was a very pleasant dream, and I had no desire to open my eyes and ruin it. A gentle humming was filling my ears, sweet and melodic. If I was a less practical man, I might have thought I was in heaven, listening to the song of an angel, but I knew that I couldn't be dead for the afterlife held no paradise for murders and betrayers like me.

"Professor, please wake up," my almost-angel whispered. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay right here experiencing her gentle touch, hearing her sweet melody.

"You have to wake up. We need you. Please come back to me." I frowned. She sounded worried. She shouldn't be upset. She was too good to carry the weight of concern.

"Professor can you hear me?" Against my will, my eyes blinked open. Thankfully the room was dim, lit by soft fire light rather than the harsh fluorescents of a typical medical ward. I felt the weight of my own body settle around my bones, losing the pleasant floating sensation from my dream. I fought hard to return to that utopia, but my steady mind would not allow it. Reality crashed down around me, and I accepted the memory of what happened along with the dull aching in my body.

I was in my home. Hermione Granger was attending to my injuries, which were caused by the Dark Lord's wrath. If I remembered correctly (it was all a little fuzzy) I'd taken quite a beating. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Miss Granger," I muttered. She stopped moving immediately and listened. "I have told you repeatedly that I am not your professor." I blinked the sleep from my eyes and turned my head so that I could see her.

There were tears pouring down her cheeks, but her smile was wide. The expression of relief was obvious. She must have thought there was a good chance that I wouldn't wake. I didn't allow myself to question her tears. I would lock the thought away for further consideration. Was it really so unbelievable that she would cry at my death? Would she miss me? Would anyone? I'd not doubt they would miss my skills, but there were few who cared for me personally.

"Are you in pain?" she asked.

"It's manageable. I would like a drink."

"Of course, Sir." She retrieved a glass of water from the bathroom and helped me to sit up. It was then that I realized I was not in my own room. It took me a moment to place the location. I was in her's. She'd put me in her own bed. Why would she do that? She couldn't get through the wards of my own room, I guess, or didn't try. But why not one of the other guest rooms? The couch in the library?

I sipped the water slowly and then she took it away, and I relaxed into the pillows, which carried her scent. She'd cast a warming charm on the blankets as well. It was incredibly comforting. A brief image flashed through my mind of my mother tucking me in as a child, but I pushed it aside. How ridiculously sentimental of me.

"Are you okay, Sir? Can I get you anything? I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't know if I could manage your injuries, but thankfully you have a well-stocked lab and library. This book was particularly helpful. I followed the instructions for the lacerations on your leg exactly as it said to, and it looked as if I'd done it correctly, but there could still be—"

"Miss Granger," I sighed. She was going to give me a headache. I much preferred her almost-angelic humming. "Stop rambling. You did well. I'll be fine."

You would have thought I was awarding her the Golden Goblin. Her smile was positively frightening in its width. She opened her mouth several times to continue talking, but snapped it shut each time, refraining herself. I wanted to laugh, but I wasn't sure my stomach could take it. The pain reliever she'd given me wasn't the one I usually took. I should have gone over emergency procedures with her before this. I had known that it was likely I would need her medical care at some point.

"Sir," she finally questioned, "what happened to you?"

I didn't really want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it, but I knew she would be an insufferable ball of curiosity until I told her. Might as well get it over with. "The Dark Lord saw fit to settle a duel for Lucius and me. He ended the argument by beating us both to a bloody pulp."

"You were dueling with Lucius Malfoy?" I nodded my conformation. "But why?"

"Oh, we are always fighting over something. I find it amusing to provoke him. We wouldn't have really hurt each other; we've been at it for years. He's still pissed that I was able to best him my fifth year. He's older than me. It was a blow to his pride." That was all true, of course. That was a part of it, but I was over simplifying. The part that I didn't tell her was that she was the primary cause of the fight. If I was done with the girl, Lucius wanted to give her to Draco. I, of course, had always been possessive of my toys. I wasn't known for my ability to share.

"That hardly makes sense. The Dark Lord saw you fighting, and decided to break up the fight by injuring you both? He had to have known that you wouldn't hurt each other. Clearly the amount of force that he used was dangerous and unnecessary."

I once again wanted to chuckle at her naivety. "It wasn't like he was trying to break up the fight in order to protect us from hurting each other. We were simply making too much noise, and he felt the need to make examples of us. We deserved it, quiet frankly. It was a stupid thing to do. We've both been around long enough to know better."

She looked confused, upset. She clearly did not find the whole situation as funny as I did. I could hardly blame her. The Dark Lord had severed a major artery in my leg. I'd probably have bled to death fairly quickly if she hadn't attended to me. It wasn't a particularly difficult thing to heal, but it was life threatening. She took everything very seriously. Usually, I too would have been more somber about the whole thing, but I was actually feeling quite elated. I wondered what mix of potions she had poured down my unconscious throat to make me feel this way.

"I don't understand at all," she whispered. I could tell that she was close to crying again, and it deflated my mood.

"There's nothing to understand, Hermione," I said softly. "He's completely insane. That's what makes him so dangerous. He doesn't care about anything except his own power and immortality."

"You almost died."

I gave her a weak smile. "I'm not that easy to kill."

"I almost sent you Hogwarts. I didn't know what to do."

"You did the right thing. No one there could have done better."

She paused for a moment and then produced a vial from her pocket. "You should be resting," she said. Bossy as always.

I took the vial from her silently. She was probably right. She made her way to the door.

"Miss Granger?" I called softly after her.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Thank you."

She nodded and closed the door behind her.

HPOV

I closed the door behind me and cast a silencing charm on it before slinking to the floor and balling my eyes out. He'd almost died. If I hadn't gotten that artery sealed up... I didn't even want to think about it, didn't want to think of a world without him. I'd come to value his protection and his company in the time I'd stayed here, and I was terrified to think what would happen in a place where he didn't exist.

That he could joke in the face of death like that. What had he been through before that had made him so numb to potentially fatal injury? Where was the man that I thought I had known for seven years?

I curled into a ball on the floor and let the exhaustion sweep over me. I was so scared. I had never done anything so difficult in my whole life. To have the life of another human being in your hands and be responsible for their every breath, there is nothing more terrifying. I knew that now, for an absolute certainty.

How did he live with this? How did he bear the weight of responsibility that came with keeping me alive? How many others were there? Dumbledore certainly. How many people's lives was he responsible for? Harry? Ron? Draco? All of his former students? How many had he let down? How many had died on his watch?

I had never held the responsibility before tonight. For two hours, I'd been the sole factor determining his life or death, and it had nearly destroyed me. I could not fathom what it must be like to live with that feeling every hour of every day.

The world blurred as the tears fell from my eyes. I hugged my knees to my chest and prayed for the emptiness of sleep.