Harsh exhale.
"Mr. and Mr. Wea…" Snape's voice shook and trembled.
Sharp inhale.
Snape finally was able to, in broken syllables choke out, "Weasley." He was exhausted, he was barely keeping it together, he was not "Professor Snape". Snape took scrunched his eyes close and tried to force a long inhale before he was overcome with tremors wracking his whole body. His right-hand grip on the chair tightened, if that was possible, and his left desperately reached out for the other arm.
It didn't take Fred or George long to decide that they didn't need to respect Snape's privacy right now. Snape wasn't in a position to demand anyone give him space. They needed to close the distance and do something. Do what? They didn't know, but something.
"Sir?"
"Professor?"
"Please, sir, Professor Snape…how can we help you?"
Fred and George were half kneeling and bent over their potions Professor not needing to build up any courage, confident they were in the right place doing the right thing. They both gently placed a hand on Snape's shoulder.
Snape didn't have the energy or his usual mask in place to scare off the Weasley twins. He just let his head fall and focussed on steadying his breath and eventually his trembling muscles.
"Boys"
"Professor Snape, looks like it wasn't a nice night out at the Leaky Cauldron, eh?"
"Yeah, sir… not to bring it up but, it does look like you may have come into contact with some beasts a little rougher than Cornish Pixies."
To everyone's surprise, include the potions master, Snape's mouth curled up in one corner. It wasn't a smile, you could barely even call it a smirk but for Snape it may as well have been a Christmas morning, new bike, ear to ear, teeth baring smile.
"Tough one tonight, lads." Snape said in a low, raspy and tired voice.
"Sir, what can we do? Fire whiskey?"
"Best make it a double."
Another almost smirk from Snape.
"Over in the corner, in the far-left cupboard. There's a wood box. Look behind it. Small vials, blue-opaque coloured liquid. Grab that, please."
Fred went over to the cupboard as fast as he could without looking like he was rushing. George stayed by Snape's side, monitoring for whatever good it was doing. There was still blood dripping from Snape's temple and his lip didn't look any better. Being close, George began to suspect that there were even more injuries that what they could see. For a man who was always impeccably dressed and held himself in the most stoic manner, there was definitely more going on.
"Here you go, sir"
Fred held out the vile and Snape reached out his hand. Snape tried to get the stopper out of the top of the vial but his hands shook too badly. He let out a frustrated, fractured sigh.
Without speaking, George took the vial from his professors' hand, opened it up and wordlessly placed it back into the older man's palm.
Snape didn't look up, didn't say thank you. Still shaking, he lifted the vial to his mouth and drank it all in a single gulp. George then again, wordlessly took the vial back and put it on the wooded work table top.
They all stayed standing for what felt like hours but must have only been minutes in silence. Eventually, Snape's breath evened out and he began to be able to hold himself still. Finally, he lifted his head.
"Fred. George. Thank you."