“Should I still plan on going to the papers if the Headmaster tries to fight you on this, Severus?” Sprout’s voice fades into his awareness.
“Yes,” His pillow rumbles again. The hand in his hair is so so gentle. “We will have to warn Mr Potter of the possibility, of course. That’s why it’s a last resort. I don’t want to have to have more put upon him than necessary.”
“ . . . full support of the Goblins, Severus. They have frozen his accounts, and should he fight you on Mr Potter, they are ready to bleed him dry,” Flitwick says.
McGonagall asks something that Harry doesn’t hear.
“Mostly figuratively, Minerva,” Is Flitwick’s reply. “Although, the Goblins take the deliberate harming of a child--any child--as a very serious offense indeed. In fact . . .”
. . .
“Are you awake, Mr Potter?” Snape asks in a low undertone some amount of time later.
He blinks his eyes open suddenly. They are alone. And Harry is still using Snape as a pillow.
“‘m sorry, sir!” He whimpers as he scrambles upright.
“I’d say you were in need of it,” Is all that Snape says. “I trust that you will keep what happened here today to yourself?”