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Snape lay on his side in the hospital bed, head propped on one arm.
His face was paler than usual, his lips drained of color, but those black eyes remained as sharp as ever.
"What is it?"
Snape's tone was short and direct, like even one extra word was a waste of energy.
Lucien stood beside the bed. "I heard you were hurt, Professor. I came to check on you."
Snape stared at him for two full seconds. His gaze softened slightly.
"Is there something else?"
Whether from the headache or something else entirely, Snape's voice came out even colder and harsher than usual.
"I'm fine. If you've got questions, spit them out!"
He refused to show any sign of weakness or helplessness because of one idiot student's "mistake." That would be too humiliating.
And now Lucien had shown up, which meant the story was already spreading through the school.
Snape ground his teeth in his head, silently cursing the name: Seamus Finnigan!
Useless, disruptive, and now assaulting a professor…
Points were nowhere near enough punishment for this.
Once he was back on his feet, that Gryffindor was going to clean a thousand—no, three thousand—toads. Guts removed whole, not a single tear in the organs!
Gryffindor really was the house he hated most.
Nothing good ever came out of it.
Dumbledore, sitting nearby, hid a faint smile in his eyes. He gave Lucien a small nod, silently telling him to go ahead and ask.
Lucien understood. He pulled a stack of notes from his pocket and held them out to Snape.
They were filled with his thoughts and improvement ideas for brewing Wolfsbane Potion.
"Professor, these are some ideas I've had about potions lately. I'd really appreciate your feedback."
Snape snatched the notes and began flipping through them with one hand.
He'd almost sat up, but the thought of the bald patch on the back of his head possibly being visible made him stay on his side.
Lucien stood quietly, watching Snape read. His own thoughts wandered.
Snape ending up in the hospital wing because of an exploding cauldron still felt completely absurd.
He was only covering Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the curse on the position was already this strong?
A Potions Master with serious dueling skills, nearly taken out by one student's cauldron.
The curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job really was ridiculous.
Lucien made a mental note. Once he finished dealing with the blood maledictions, he should look into whether these "position-targeted" curses could be broken too.
The throbbing headache made reading difficult for Snape.
The dense handwriting swam in front of his eyes like a swarm of restless ants. He blinked hard, trying to focus.
But he'd been the one who demanded Lucien ask his questions. He couldn't back down now and lose face.
Wolfsbane Potion.
Why did it have to be that troublesome potion?
Snape's brow furrowed slightly. Wolfsbane… werewolves…
The two words pulled up some unpleasant memories and made his already aching head feel even worse.
Still, the improvement ideas in the notes were actually quite interesting.
He was just about to keep reading when—
Whoosh.
The curtain was yanked open.
Madam Pomfrey stepped in, white cap on her head, carrying a bottle of potion that gave off blue smoke.
Her eyes swept over the scene. When she saw Snape trying to read while propped on one elbow, her expression darkened immediately.
Her voice was quiet but carried absolute authority.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Snape barely had time to answer before Madam Pomfrey marched forward and snatched the notes right out of his hands.
"You should be resting!"
She scolded him, glanced at the content, saw it was about Wolfsbane Potion, and her face grew even darker.
She turned to Dumbledore, her tone full of obvious displeasure.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, Snape may be a professor, but right now he's a patient. He needs rest. Stop giving him work."
Madam Pomfrey had been giving Dumbledore fewer and fewer pleasant looks these past few years.
Too many young wizards kept having accidents at school. The safety of the castle and its students was the headmaster's responsibility.
"Lie down properly," Madam Pomfrey said, shoving the notes into Dumbledore's hands and shooting Snape another glare. "Now. Medicine first."
Snape's expression grew even uglier.
But when it came to Madam Pomfrey, not even he could argue. And in the hospital wing, even Dumbledore had no choice but to stay quiet.