He'd left for a minute, probably to chew someone else. Now he's back, checking I'm dead. Almost. Not quite.
He's sniffing now, and it's disgusting; repulsive. Where's my wand? Get off, you creep. Death, I can take, but this…
I can't see anything, feel anything, smell anything anymore. I can just taste Death in the air and hear War around me. And it burns.
I hear him against my neck now, the sound of teeth against skin. But then-
"No! Get away from her!" someone shrieks. Hermione Granger, you brilliant woman. And now I know… I'm going to live. Live…