Chapter 27
As Harry slept well into the afternoon, a noise protruded his dreams. The distant sound of running water seemed to be getting closer or at least louder. Though Harry tried to block the sound, it kept getting louder and eventually shook him out of his sleeping state.
Opening his eyes, Harry noted that the water was still running but the sound was now at a constant level. He also noted that Prof. Snape was lying down next to him, still asleep. Recalling the events of the previous night, Harry propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the Potions Master. His vision was a bit blurry without his glasses but he could make out several cuts and bruises on the small amount of the man that wasn't covered by a blanket.
Turning his attention back to the running water, Harry swung his legs off the side of the bed and brought himself into a sitting position. The sudden movement caused his head to spin. He waited for everything to settle before getting on his feet. Pulling his blanket around his shoulders, he made his way to the other side of the room where his glasses were. His legs were a bit wobbly but he hadn't stood in a while, so it wasn't anything unusual.
Harry took hold of his glasses with one hand while using the other to hold up the blanket. Unfolding the glasses, he set them on his face and made his way to where the noise was originating.
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Phaedrus was standing in front of the sink scrubbing the bloodied cloths that he had used the previous night. The sound of the water was overpowering any other sound in the room so he didn't hear Harry walking toward him.
"Phaedrus?" Harry was surprised how weak his voice sounded and at how the man reacted to it.
Spinning around in shock, Phaedrus leveled his eyes on the boy. "Harry?" he said between slightly labored breaths. "What are you doing awake?"
"I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "I didn't mean to… I just wanted to ask if Prof. Snape was all right."
"Professor Snape?" Phaedrus inquired. He didn't like the sound of that. "I thought that man was your father."
Harry opened his mouth to explain but he couldn't think of any good explanation without having to tell Phaedrus about the world of magic in which he had only become recently acquainted.
"What are you doing out here with a teacher?" Phaedrus demanded now sounding angry.
"It's not like it sounds," Harry answered quickly. "He tried to help me and then he got mixed up in it and-"
"Mixed up in what?"
Harry started to back up involuntarily. "I… I can't explain," he stammered.
Phaedrus was now taking long strides toward Harry who was still backing his way to the room with his professor.
"Harry, stop!" Phaedrus said a bit louder and angrier than he had intended.
But Harry wasn't about to stop. He didn't know what to do. Phaedrus was obviously angry and Harry could probably imagine why. "It's not what you think," he said.
"Then explain it to me," the man commanded.
Both Harry and Phaedrus were too involved in what was happening to notice that the volume of their conversation was beginning to wake Severus. Opening his eyes, the Potions professor was presented with a sight that he didn't like at all. He could see Harry backing away from the man that had brought the boy to him earlier. That man's kindness, it seemed, had evaporated into a rage that appeared to be directed toward Harry.
Severus tried to say something but his throat was too dry to speak. He watched helplessly as Harry continued to back his way toward the wall that the bed was leaning against. Suddenly the teen tripped over something and landed with his lower body on the floor with his head and back against the wall. Severus shot a look toward the man now closing in on Harry who was sitting still against the wall next to him. He imagined that Harry had probably hit the wound on his head and might have knocked himself unconscious or stunned himself.
Doing the only thing that he could think to do in the situation, Severus rolled off of the bed and landed hard against the wooden floor on his side. A sharp gasp of pain escaped his throat but he had achieved his goal. He was now between Harry and the man pursuing him.
Phaedrus stopped out of shock from what just occurred. He couldn't believe what that man had done. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain that he had just caused himself.
Taking the opportunity Severus used his one uninjured arm to prop himself up and straightened his hips so that he was now completely blocking Harry. He took in sharp breaths and did his best to forget about the aching over his entire body. He was concentrating all of his strength to keeping the boy safe.
Recovering from his dazed state, Harry got to his knees. He could see that Phaedrus was angry and he didn't want the man to hurt his professor. Positioning himself in front of Severus, Harry, still on his knees raised his hands in front of him so that Phaedrus could see from his body language that he just wanted to talk.
"Please, just don't hurt him," Severus heard Harry say.
Seeing that Harry was truly frightened, Phaedrus backed away a few feet. He hadn't meant to scare the boy but he couldn't rationalize why he would be in the middle of nowhere alone with a professor.
Severus' arms couldn't handle the strain any longer. He collapsed on his back with a groan. He fought to stay conscious for Harry. He didn't know what was happening; only that it wasn't good.
Harry's head snapped around when he heard Severus hit the floor. Turning his body toward the heap behind him, the Gryffindor dropped on his hands. "Professor?" he whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly would somehow hurt the man.
Severus stared back at Harry from the floor. When Harry had fallen back, the blanket had fallen from his shoulders and now it was separating Severus' upper body from the cold floor.
Harry had never felt more helpless in his entire life. He didn't know how to help Snape but he knew that the man desperately needed someone to help him.
Suddenly Harry felt two arms pulling him away from his professor. Struggling against them, the teen slipped out of Phaedrus' grasp, landing on his back next to Severus. Staring back at Phaedrus, Harry pleaded with the man, "Please, he needs help. I'll explain everything, just please help him."
Phaedrus kneeled down so that he was at eye level with Harry. "It's all right Harry. I'm sorry that I let things get out of hand." He glanced at Severus before looking back at Harry. "I'll do everything that I can, I promise."
This reassurance seemed to relax the boy a bit.
"I'm going to get him back in bed," Phaedrus said, turning his attention back to the man on the floor. "Why don't you get some clothes and then help me redress his wounds?" Phaedrus suggested, knowing that Harry would be more agreeable if he were allowed to stay near his professor. "You'll find some clothes in that dresser," he said, pointing to a chest of drawers in a corner in the far side of the room.
Harry quickly got to his feet and made his way to the dresser. As Phaedrus bent over Severus, he could hear Harry opening the drawers and shuffling through their contents.
The eyes of the man lying vulnerably on the floor were darting back and forth between Harry and Phaedrus. Nervously licking his lips, Phaedrus wondered about the best way to go about this. He knew that the man would be distrustful of him after what just happened and he didn't blame him. But any progress made from the previous night seemed to have dissolved and time was not on their side.
Taking the professor's uninjured arm, and draping it over his neck, Phaedrus hooked his free arm under the man's injured arm. He was stiff, obviously not wanting to be touched. Phaedrus ignored it and using the leverage from his legs, pulled the man up to a sitting position on the bed. Next, he swung his limp legs on the bed and gently lowered the man's body back on the bed.
By this time, Harry was back at the bedside looking anxious.
Phaedrus adjusted the man's body so that he would be more comfortable and untangled the blanket from the man's legs. Glancing at his face, Phaedrus noted that his cheeks were flushed.
"Harry, could you go into the kitchen and get those cloths that I was washing?"
"Yeah, anything else?" Harry asked, already heading for the kitchen.
"A bowl of cold water."
Harry retrieved both items and was back within a minute.
"Thank you," Phaedrus said as he took the bowl and set it on the table next to Severus. "Can you fill a pan with water and put it over the fire?"
Harry nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
Phaedrus took a cloth and dipped it into the bowl. Ringing out the excess water, he placed it over Severus' forehead. Seeing that the man was staring at him with a look that was anything but friendly, Phaedrus took another cloth and repeated the process, this time dabbing Severus' cheeks.
"I'm sorry about before," he began, "but you must understand that I was worried about Harry. You must admit that your circumstances are a bit strange."
Severus made no indication that he understood but by this time, Harry had returned, placing a large pan of water on the fire.
"Thank you, Harry. That should be enough for now. Why don't you take a seat?"
Harry looked around the room and located a chair that would be easy to move. Pulling it next to the bed on the opposite side of Phaedrus, Harry sat down in the chair and took hold of Severus' hand that was closest to him. It was still stained with blood and it was cold but Harry didn't want to let go.
Severus turned toward Harry, apparently deciding to ignore Phaedrus as he took off some of the bandages covering his wounds.
Harry could see that Severus was struggling to stay awake. He looked concerned, but for Harry's sake instead of his own. Harry turned his head to see what Phaedrus was doing. He was amazed at some of his professor's wounds, especially the one in the middle of his chest. It was a glaring red and looked like it might be infected. There was fresh blood seeping from a few of the wounds where he must have torn them.
Phaedrus dropped the old bandages on the floor and turned to the fire where the pan of
water was already boiling. Holding a cloth in his hand, he pulled the pan from the fire and placed it on the floor next to him.
Harry turned back to Snape and found the man already asleep. It was probably better this way, he thought. He couldn't picture Prof. Snape letting anyone dress his wounds.
Phaedrus waited for the water to cool enough so that it wouldn't burn. Dipping a clean cloth in the water, he wrung it out and began wiping the largest wound.
"So," he started, "are you going to explain?"
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Author's note: Wow, two chapters in one day. It's always easier to write when you're procrastinating something else. Thanks to those who have already reviewed the last chapter. I hope that you enjoy this chapter as well. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. Thanks again!