Chapter 4
//Harry’s POV
Well these were news… definitely not good news but news. He found out what happened to him at night.
To be clear, he discovered who he was WITH. It could be a coincidence… something happening once certainly didn’t explain anything. But his newfound interest in Snape could have been a clue.
The night before hadn’t strained particularly from his usual, besides a slight sense of uneasiness. But still nothing weird right? Wrong! Cos as soon as he woke up he found himself in Snape’s private rooms, with said professor unconscious at his feet. And he was bleeding.
Harry considered calling Poppy for a second… she was the expert… but how would he explain this? He was in a (badly wounded) professor’s bedroom, after curfew and said professor was no other than his most hated one.
Yup he was NOT calling Poppy. So he quickly tossed Snape onto his bed and ripped his shirt, revealing a gash in his side and an ugly-looking (but superficial) wound on his left shoulder seemingly descending towards his arm. So OBVIOUSLY he torn the rest of the garment. Bad idea. Horrible idea!
He stood still for a couple of seconds, staring at the Dark Mark on the professor’s forearm. A Death Eater. Among the professors. At Hogwarts! He had to tell Dumbledore.
But he found he couldn’t leave like that. He was bleeding out. Who cares?! He’s a bloody Death Eater for Merlin’s sake! But he just couldn’t. So he turned and inspected the man. His side was bleeding profusely and his breathing was ragged. Fuck… Harry run and took as many potions and balms as he was able and returned to the room. Dittany was spread evenly on the wounds then he ripped his t-shirt into long strips and bandaged the wounds as best as he could.
Next were the potions… Blood-Replenishing and Dreamless Sleep potions, among others, were given to the professor… hoping (or not) to not kill him with the mixture.
Now that Snape was safe (?) Harry looked at him… REALLY looked at him, probably for the first time. His alabaster skin was littered with scars, he was extremely thin (even worse than what he imagined) and his long fingers looked like they were broken and (poorly) fixed multiple times. The body clearly showed signs of abuse, one that Harry knew quite well.
He covered his professor with forest green sheets… now what?
All desires to talk to the Headmaster momentarily left him. He couldn’t.
He found a note and scribbled, with shaky hands a quick “rest” but stopped short of signing. What was he thinking? It’s not like he could just sign himself as “Harry”! Snape would hex him into the next century! Especially with the quite evident Dark Mark poking from the covers.
He looked around desperate for something, anything and he saw it… on the ground there was a black shiny scale. He probably had to get rid of it. He couldn’t risk getting found out like that.
But was it really that dangerous? Just one scale didn’t really scream “dragon Animagus” to Harry. So, without much though, he slid the scale inside the folded note, put what seemed like Snape’s wand on top of it and fled.
This was probably a horrible idea.
Harry didn’t have time to mull over it because, as soon as he stepped foot in his rooms, he noticed Ron stirring awake. How much time did he spend with Snape? Dammit!
He got dressed and followed his friend to the Great Hall. He was exhausted. Hermione clearly noticed but didn’t say anything for most of breakfast.
But she obviously wouldn’t stay silent forever. “Harry! What is wrong? Professor Dumbledore is speaking…” “Oh sorry Hermione, it’s nothing, I just didn’t sleep well” “Well you better wake up. We have Charms in the first period and Potions right after that”
Fuck… He had to face Snape.