Chapter Six:
The Rescue
Snape found Harry whimpering in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, curled onto a fetal position in a puddle of red tinted water.
He gasped and rushed over to Harry, lifting his slight frame out of the pool of blood. Harry's whimpering turned to groans of agony, so Snape splayed Harry across his torso, kneading small circles in between Harry's shoulder blades. A quiet sniffling replaced the groans, and Snape made low soothing sounds to calm him further.
Harry curled his fists into the fabric of Snape's robes, burying his face into the side of Snape's neck.
Snape shivered, almost aroused by the close contact with Harry. The only thing stopping him being the knowledge that Harry was in pain. A great deal of agony, he suspected, since Malfoy had done a wonderful job tearing Harry to pieces.
Harry's body shuddered and his grip on Snape's robes tightened. He looked up at Snape, bright emerald eyes filled to the brim with tears.
Harry's nose was bloody, broken undoubtedly, and his glasses had been snapped in two. One half of his glasses was lodged into his nose, the other half was in the blood puddle.
"Hello, P-professor," Harry said meekly, the corner of his lips tugging at a smile and one of his eyes twitching.
"Hello, Harry," Snape echoed, a small smile playing at his lips as well.
"I'm s-s-sorry... about all this," Harry whispered, shoulders slumping down a bit more.
"Don't be. It wasn't your fault at all," Snape reassured him.
Harry shuddered again, and nuzzled Snape's chest.
"Would you like to come to my chambers, or go to Madam Pomfrey?" Snape asked gently.
"Your chambers," Harry mumbled into Snape's chest.
"Very well, Harry. I shall carry you there," Snape said.
Harry looked up at Snape, mouth open in protest, but Snape was already moving towards the door with Harry in his arms.
Harry fell asleep, curled against Snape's chest, as they made their slow decent to his chambers.