“Harry, please pay attention to what you’re doing!” Hermione scolded. “You nearly added the hellebore before the crushed beetle wings.”

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, shooting another glare across the room at Draco. The blond boy smirked and continued his conversation with Pansy in a stage whisper, making sure Harry could hear.

“Anyway,” Draco continued, “I’m just wondering if that Chang girl saw the words on his hand and that’s why she’s been avoiding him. Took her long enough, if you ask me. Professor Umbridge certainly has the right idea, disciplining liars like Potter.”

“Shut up!” Harry roared, leaping to his feet. He had had enough of people calling him a liar, and it wasn’t fair. Snape could surely hear what Malfoy was saying, but of course he didn’t do anything about it. “Just shut your stupid face, Malfoy.”

Draco’s features twisted into a scowl and he also got to his feet but before wands could be drawn Snape had glided forwards to stand between them.

“Mr Malfoy,” he said silkily, “please take your seat.”

He then turned to face Harry, an unpleasant sneer on his face.

“Potter, might I enquire as to why you feel the need to stand and shout whenever you believe you are not getting enough attention?”

“Perhaps if Malfoy didn’t keep crapping on about me under his breath, I wouldn’t be shouting!” Harry yelled and Snape’s onyx eyes narrowed.

“Detention,” hissed the Potion’s Master icily. “And thirty points from Gryffindor for your language and behaviour.”

Harry swore loudly and stepped out from behind his desk, approaching the teacher.

“This is completely unfair,” he growled, emerald eyes flashing with anger. “Completely and utterly unfair.”

“Life is not fair, Potter,” Snape snarled. “Now get back to your seat before I deduct further points.”

“Harry,” Hermione said suddenly, fear in her voice.

“Silence, Miss Granger,” Snape said, not taking his eyes off the boy who stood before him.

“But Harry, your cauldron!”

Harry and Snape both turned their heads and horror covered their faces as they saw the hissing, spitting cauldron, smoke pouring from it angrily.

“Harry, you’ve added the porcupine quills too soon!” Hermione said shrilly. “It’s going to…”

Snape, knowing what was about to happen, threw himself at Harry, arms spread wide and knocked the boy to the ground just as the cauldron exploded with a great bang. Screams filled the air as the two bodies disappeared beneath a cloud of smoke.

“Harry? Harry!” Hermione and Ron shouted for their friend, coughing and spluttering.

Moments later the cloud of smoke began to fade and the forms of Harry and Snape lay on the stone dungeon floor, unmoving. Pansy burst into tears, but Hermione launched into action immediately, dropping by their sides.

“Harry’s breathing,” she called and Ron sighed in relief, watching as his friend checked the pulse of their teacher. “Professor Snape is alive, too.”

The Slytherins sighed in relief, and the Gryffindors managed to suppress their groans of disappointment.

“He’s hurt, though,” Hermione said softly, eyeing the countless shards of twisted metal that protruded from his back, the torn black robes sticking to his body with blood.

At that moment Snape groaned, and shifted slightly. Hissing with pain, he pulled himself off his student and, with great effort, off the floor. He swayed for a moment before looking around at the carnage that was the classroom.

“Class dismissed,” he said, teeth clenched against the pain. “Weasley, Granger, remain behind. Everyone else get out.”

The students did not need to be told twice. Grabbing their bags, they bolted, not even bothering to clean up. As soon as the door closed Snape staggered to the nearest desk and toppled into the chair, gasping at the searing pain in his back.

“Potter,” he grunted painfully.

“He’s breathing,” Hermione said, seemingly relieved that she had something to do now. “May I clear your desk and lay him on there?”

Snape nodded and Hermione cleared the desk with a wave of her wand before levitating her unconscious friend and lowering him gently.

“Miss Granger,” Snape gasped, eyes clenched tightly. “Through that door… My personal stocks…”

Hermione understood immediately and raced through the door that he had indicated, returning moments later with several potions. She handed one to her teacher and he drank it down in one large gulp before sighing in relief.

“For the pain,” Snape said in response to Ron’s questioning expression, before getting to his feet and swooping over to Harry. He inspected the unconscious boy carefully, and then turned to face the other two students.

“Miss Granger, Weasley, behind that tapestry is the entrance to my private quarters. Go through the first room, onto the second, where you will find a fireplace. Floo powder is on the mantle. Go straight to the hospital wing and I shall follow with Potter.”

The two students nodded and obeyed immediately, whilst Snape gently scooped Harry into his arms. The boy was lighter than he had expected, and his limbs flopped around as though he were a rag doll. Stepping towards the tapestry, Harry’s head rolled slightly and he groaned.

Snape froze, watching as the boy’s eyes fluttered open. When the green eyes met the black there was a moment of stunned silence, before Harry wrenched himself out of Snape’s grip.

“What…” he began, eyes darting around wildly.

“Potter,” Snape said silkily, trying to regain some composure. “Due to your incompetence, your cauldron exploded. It could have resulted in the death of your classmates, but thankfully only you and I were injured. I was taking you through to my quarters so we could Floo to the hospital wing. Weasley and Granger have gone ahead only moments ago.”

Harry digested this information and it all seemed to come back to him. He narrowed his eyes at Snape.

“You threw yourself in front of me,” he said. “Why did you do that? Why did you protect me?”

“Does it matter?” Snape asked, striding ahead and Harry gasped as he saw his teacher’s back.

“Sir, your back… You’re hurt.”

“Clever observation, Potter,” he said dryly. “Now come along, I do not wish to spend the entire day standing around with you gaping like a fish.”

“Tell me why you did it, first,” Harry said, regaining some Gryffindor bravado. “Why you jumped in front of me and took all the force.”

“Why do you think?” Snape asked, whirling on the boy. “I wasn’t going to let you be blown to smithereens by a cauldron of all things. The Boy Who Lived, killed in a Potion’s accident, under my supervision?”

“So you were worried about losing your job,” Harry said, sounding strangely relieved. “Good. For a moment there, I was afraid you cared.”

Snape snorted, striding through to his quarters with the boy at his heels. “If only you knew, Potter,” he said under his breath. “If only you knew.”