Slow motion. Warbled cries of distress and warning.

Harry Potter felt as if he had been flying through the air for hours before he slammed into Potions Professor Severus Snape, throwing them both out of harm's way. The exploding potion on Neville Longbottom's bench spewed dark liquid and shrapnel embedded itself in the space that Snape had recently vacated.

Harry blinked wide green eyes.

"Are you alright?" Severus was asking the room in general.

There were several verbal responses and a few nods. Harry pushed himself up on one elbow, he was still staring at the large piece of cauldron that had become one with the floor. Snape looked down at the boy.

"And you, Mister Potter?" There was a marginal softening of the tone.

Harry looked up, still stunned. "Um. Fine, Professor."

Severus reached a hand down and helped the student to stand. Harry brushed the dirt off his shirt.

"Thank you, Mister Potter."

"Uh-huh," Harry said. He blinked. "All in a days work...sir."

Severus shook his head.  "Gryffindors," he muttered in derision.