Chapter 9

Severus stalked through the dungeons to his rooms after a particularly painful class. Apparently, his third year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class could give Longbottom a run for his money. Muttering to himself about incompetence contaminating the gene pool, he barked out the password to his rooms.

"Shit," was all Severus managed to say upon stepping over the threshold. There was Harry, lying completely still on the floor, a vial clasped in his hand. He hurried over to the young man�s side and immediately began checking for vital signs. Nothing. Fear and Panic welled up inside his chest just as tears started welling up in his eyes. He quickly brushed them away and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. That�s when he noticed his dresser drawers were open and had clearly been rifled through. Swallowing hard, he looked through the middle drawer. It was gone. The vial was gone. Which meant that the vial Harry had in his hand�

Sighing deeply in relief, Severus turned his attention back to the unconscious boy. "It figures that you�d find it over the course of one class period when it took me hours to search for it," he muttered, then hauled the boy up and carried him to the Infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey was having an easy day. Aside from cleaning out a first year�s skinned knee, she�d had no patients. It was giving her plenty of time to catch up on her reading, which was precisely what she was doing when the door burst open and in stormed the bane of her existence carrying her most frequent patient.

"Pomfrey! We need a bed!" Severus demanded, and without waiting for a response, laid Harry out on the nearest cot.

"Severus! What did I tell you about using your failed potions on students?! This is the fifth one this week!" Pomfrey scolded, walking over to take a look at Harry. She stopped short, however, upon actually seeing him. He was deathly pale, even paler than he was after his encounters with the dementors. She was just about to check his vitals when Severus stopped her.

"Don�t bother," he said, his expression completely unreadable. "You won�t find any life signs." Severus realized that perhaps a little elaboration was in order as Pomfrey looked ready to kill him. "He�s not dead. He�s just�resting."

"Resting?! RESTING?!" Pomfrey exploded before forcing herself to relax. Finally, still glaring cold daggers of death at Severus, she said, "Explain."

"He found a modified Draught of the Living Death in my dresser. He drank the whole thing," he said, presenting the empty vial as proof.

"Modified? Modified how?" Pomfrey asked, taking the vial and eyeing it suspiciously.

"Modified as in he won�t be waking up for three days," Severus replied, then added, "but otherwise he should be fine."

"Oh, yes, fine and dandy," Pomfrey spat. "Yes, perfectly fine and in a bloody coma�"

"It�s not a coma�"

"I don�t care!"

"Now, now, what seems to be the�oh, dear," a new voice joined in as Professor Dumbledore entered the Infirmary. His eyes darted from Harry to Severus to Poppy before returning to Harry again. "�Severus? What happened to Harry?"

"This idiot put the poor boy into a coma, that�s what!" an irate Pomfrey replied, pointing an accusing finger at Severus, who shot her a poisonous look.

"I told you, he�s not in a coma! He�s just resting!" he said, temper flaring.

"Oh, yes, and I suppose that next you�ll be saying that he�s pining for the fjords!" she shot back, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

A very confused Dumbledore watched this exchange with only the slightest bit of humor before clearing his throat, effectively drawing attention back to himself. Looking directly at Severus, he asked, "Would you care to explain?"

"Certainly, Headmaster," Severus replied, quickly suppressing his anger. "Mr. Potter found a vial of modified Draught of the Living Death in my dresser. He took it, and now he appears to be dead. He will, however, wake up in three days� time. And he will be perfectly fine," he added, glaring at Pomfrey.

"I see," Dumbledore said, moving to stand beside Harry�s bed and placing a hand on the boy�s forehead. He was ice cold, and Dumbledore drew his hand back quickly.

Pomfrey, meanwhile, had returned to scolding Severus. "How could you leave something like that just lying about?! What the hell were you thinking?!"

"IT WASN�T JUST LYING AROUND!" Severus finally exploded. He�d had it with the woman�s accusations. The way she was talking, one would think that Severus intentionally put his students in danger, which was just absurd.

"Then how�d he get to it, Snape?!" she retorted. Severus growled.

"I had it in my private dresser," he replied as calmly as he could manage. "He wasn�t supposed to go into it. Apparently, I forgot to put a locking spell on it before I left for my class."

"So this is your fault!" Pomfrey persisted.

"Now, now, Poppy," Albus interjected, placing a hand on Severus�s arm before he could draw his wand. "We all make mistakes. What�s important right now is Harry." He turned to Severus. "Is there any way to wake him sooner?"

Severus sighed. "Well, yes, but that particular potion takes almost three days to brew, so it wouldn�t help anyway." Albus nodded slowly as Severus continued. "I brought him here because he should be kept under constant observation while under the effects of the potion. As I said, it�s a modified version, and still experimental. I�m only assuming that he�ll be alright based on the theory. However, even I can�t be entirely certain how it will effect him�"

"Lovely," Pomfrey interjected. "Just wonderful, Severus. I told you, Headmaster, that leaving a student in that man�s care would be a bad idea�"

"Fine!" Severus shouted at her. "I get it! I�m not worthy of caring for the precious Golden Boy! So sorry for being a mere mortal!" And with that, he stormed out of the hospital wing and down to the dungeons.

Severus sat alone in his rooms, glaring at nothing. How dare that woman accuse him of trying to hurt Harry! He would never, ever try to hurt him, regardless of how he may act toward the boy. He cared too damn much to hurt him. Damn it, this was so typical. Try to hide behind a mask, and everyone just assumes� They couldn�t be more wrong. Idiots, all of them.

"Merlin, Harry, sometimes, you�re more trouble than your worth," Severus muttered to himself, then shook his head. "Well, maybe not more than your worth�" He stopped. Why was he talking to himself like this? Merlin, what was he saying?! Sighing, he went and laid on his bed, deciding that now was as good a time as any to work out all these confusing thoughts and emotions.