It started when Draco and Granger had both reached for the same newts eyes, knocking the bottle to the ground.
"You bitch! I needed those," Draco hissed.
"Piss off Malfoy!" Weasley yelled, shoving the slytherin boy into a shelf. Severus rolled his eyes hoping Draco would hex the boy and end the fight.
"You dare pull a wand on me!?" Draco shrieked at Granger, she had pulled her wand the same moment Draco had.
"I pulled mine because you pulled yours you overgrown ferret," She said, getting into a battle stance. Severus knew it was time to intervene.
"Wands away before you poke an eye out," he sneered sweeping past them to restore the jar of newts eyes.
"Fuck off Snape," Weasley and Draco said at the same time, glaring at each other.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor...and Slytherin," he said his eyes glittering. He waited to see what the blonde would do. No one got away with disrespecting him, not even a slytherin.
"You think a couple of points are going to stop me?!" Draco seethed getting into Severus face.
Severus raised an eyebrow and flicked his wrist sending Draco to the floor.
"Possibly," he answered, walking away to his desk.
He heard Draco muttering, he tensed casting a silent protego around himself. The boy got up and strolled back to his station glaring bitterly at Severus.
Weasley and Granger stared at the them for a moment before hurrying to their own stations. Not looking at each other. Odd, Severus thought. The class continued, everyone glancing periodically from Severus to Draco nervously.
He was marking essays when he heard it. Draco was muttering something in latin staring intently at his open office door. Before Severus could process what he was saying he heard Harry scream.
"Daddy! Dad-" something cut him off.
He bolted from his desk, letting his quill fall to the floor. He slammed the door open fully and took in the scene before him. Thick black smoke filled the room, it was covering Harry smothering him. He couldn't breathe. Severus cursed and began to chant in Latin, while trying to get too Harry through the thick fog. The smoke surrounded him, slowly cutting off his air. He kept pushing, Harry needed him.
His spell began to take effect, the smoke dissipating. He surged forward and grabbed Harry bringing him into the lab. Harry was coughing violently, his lips blue, tears running down his face.
His head snapped up as he heard a scream of rage. Granger and Draco were dueling in the middle of the classroom, Weasley glaring at Dracofrom the side, not helping the girl.
Draco threw a nasty hex her way sticking her to the wall, he smiled sarcastically at Severus.
"Did the baby make it? Pity," he said, pouting at a crying Harry.
Severus sneered at him, and held Harry tighter running a hand through his hair. The poor boy was crying so hard his entire body was trembling.
"Hush, you're alright, you're alright," he kept repeating, watching Granger and Draco. She had freed herself and countered with a harsh stinging hex sending it to his face. He saw Draco's eyes flash dangerously and knew he needed to stop them at once.
He shifted Harry to one arm and pulled out his wand, flicking it at each student in turn. Draco flew to the other side of the room, ropes tying him down, his wand flying to Severus, the same happened to Granger.
He breathed in deeply, "everyone else out, now!" he barked.
The rest of the students who had been cowering in the corners fled quickly leaving their half finished potions. He banished them all with a wave of his wand, also shutting off the flames.
He went to the floo and fire called Minerva, telling her all that had happened. She fumed as he came through. He left her to deal with them. He needed to make sure Harry was alright. He left the classroom. Minerva yelling at both of the protesting students.
He sat down on the couch.
"Does anything hurt?" he asked feeling him for any injuries.
"N-n-no Dad-dy," he sobbed. Severus could feel Harry's rapid heart rate.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he said quietly, not sure what to do. He had never seen Harry so shaken before.
Harry whimpered and buried his face in his neck, clutching his robes in a death grip.
He had almost lost his son.