Harry watched Madam Pomfrey carefully as she worked. He watched her wand movements, watched how she cleaned and bandaged some of Professor Snape's wounds manually, and paid special attention to how she pronounced her spells.

He should know how to do this stuff. He should learn everything he could so that he could save the people he cared about.

The potions were easier. Harry could identify most of what Madam Pomfrey was using on sight, and what he couldn't, he could deduce through context.

It wasn't painting a pretty picture.

Professor Snape was suffering from heavy blood loss, judging by the astronomical amount of blood replenisher Madam Pomfrey had already fed him. He was in shock. He had been hit by some kind of dark magic, and it was messing with his magic's attempts to aid in his healing. Madam Pomfrey was worried that he was going to lose consciousness, and she wanted him to stay awake.

It was amazing yet terrifying to learn so much about his mentor's injuries by simply watching the medi-witch work.

"How's he doing?" Draco asked softly, once he'd managed to pry himself away from the Weasleys. Harry was reasonably sure that he would eventually find Draco's new fan club funny, once he knew for sure that Professor Snape was okay.

Harry explained Snape's condition as well as Harry's concerns. Madam Pomfrey gave him a sharp look as he outlined his unofficial diagnosis, but didn't stop working to comment.

"Dark magic?" Draco asked, startled. "There's no way Dumbledore okayed traps that use dark magic. It Cass back, yet? Snape must've been chasing Quirrell."

"McGonagall didn't mention him," Harry said, frowning.

"She probably didn't want to upset us. If Snape's in that bad of shape, then Quirrell either won and escaped or he's dead down there in that chamber. McGonagall would have brought him up too if he was alive."

Harry blanched. Quirrell was dead? Was still dead, lying alone in some trapped hidden passage guarded by a Cerberus, Guardian of the Underworld.

He had wanted Quirrell out of the school, and stopped so he couldn't hurt Harry ever again, but dead? Harry had never wanted that.

Snape moaned and shifted, prompting Madam Pomfrey to pin him down with a spell before she could continue to dig shards of what looked like rock out of his back.

Poor Professor Snape. Harry could not even imagine what it felt like to kill someone, but it had to be horrible. He'd confessed to Harry before that he'd ad to kill people in the war, but this was different. This was peacetime in a school. It shouldn't have come to this.

Professor Snape should never have been put in that position.

And now what? What if the aurors didn't believe that he'd been protecting the school? What if they took this as further proof that he was a murderer? A sick, sinking feeling took root in Harry's stomach. They couldn't take Professor Snape away from him! Not now, not after everything!

It wasn't fair.

"Draco!" Mr. Malfoy barged into the room, a manic look in his eye, and swept his son into a giant, unrestrained hug. "Are you alright? I couldn't find you outside and someone said you were here. Were you injured?"

"I'm okay Dad," Draco said, melting into his father's arms.

Harry felt an old, familiar twinge of jealousy and stamped it down viciously. It was good that Mr. Malfoy cared about his son. Harry didn't want to take that away from Draco, just because he didn't have the same thing.

Then Mr. Malfoy was looking at him. "Harry, are you alright, child?"

Harry nodded, suddenly unable to form words.

Mr. Malfoy looked Harry up and down, scrutinizing him for injuries.

Harry held his arms out to show that he was fine and Mr. Malfoy took that as a signal to grab Harry by the front of his robes and drag him into the hug.

One of Draco's elbows hit Harry in the ribs as he collided with them, but he didn't care.

He kept forgetting that he had people now who really, truly cared about him.

"Professor Snape got hurt bad, Dad," Draco said, muffled against his father's chest. "We're worried about him."

Mr. Malfoy frowned as he took in Professor Snape's tense, feverish form. "That's not from a fire. What happened?"

"We don't know the full story yet," Draco said, "but he was protecting whatever Dumbledore's been hiding all year from Quirrell, who wanted to steal it. Quirrell was the one why tried to kill Harry, too. He never should have been allowed to teach here."

Harry realized that Draco was letting his voice carry, ensuring that everyone who was listening in got the context surrounding what Mr. Malfoy actually needed to hear.

Harry nodded in agreement and approval. Professor Snape deserved to have everyone on his side, for once. "Professor Snape's a hero, Mr. Malfoy."

"I'm sure he is," Mr. Malfoy said. "Now what's this about Dumbledore hiding something dangerous in a school?"

Draco explained his theory, with Harry adding little bits here and there.

Mr. Malfoy clucked his tongue in and almost hissing sound of disgust. "First that ex-convict groundskeeper sets a dragon loose into the forest and now this? Traps and deadly beasts planted firmly in the middle of the school? Not to mention that whole troll affair and the horrifically negligent way Harry's near-death was handled. I have no choice but to call an emergency meeting of the Board of Governors, do I?"

"I want to feel safe here again," Harry said, adding a bit of a tremor to his voice. He might have overdone it a tad, but no one else in the room called him on his theatrics, so he supposed it couldn't have been too terribly obvious.

It was true, after all. What good was going to school if that school murdered you before you could graduate?

Harry was sick of not just his life, but everyone else's being put in danger.

"Professor Snape tried to warn everyone that it wasn't safe here," Draco said, also hamming it up. "No one believed him. They tried to pin Quirrell's crimes on him and send him away. They did that just to shut him up, didn't they Dad?"

"That's for the aurors to decide, Son," Mr. Malfoy said, "but it certainly seems that way, doesn't it? Don't worry. I'll make sure the Ministry gets to the bottom of this. I won't have either of you getting hurt. I promise."

Mr. Malfoy pulled back a bit and winked so only Harry and Draco could see. "Does anyone still need medical attention? I'm no medi-wizard, but I do have basic healing certification. Anyone with minor scrapes or burns, line up for me. Let's allow the esteemed Madam Pomfrey to focus on the severe cases without distraction.

Harry saw a small cart full of potions and wheeled it over to Mr. Malfoy.

He handed burn salves, pain relievers, and whatever else Mr. Malfoy needed over with confident ease.

Harry knew his potions. He could do this.

Percy Weasley jumped in began to help Mr. Malfoy apply bandages where needed, and Draco grabbed a stack of blank paper and began transfiguring the sheets into cushions for people to sit on if the potions they were given made them drowsy.

George Weasley took a few random objects from around the room and began to put on an impromptu puppet show for the younger students and a couple of small children who must have been in Hogsmeade.

Everyone was working together.

It felt good to be useful.