good for his eyes, whether he was hunched over books of potions or those same cauldrons, and, all in all, the room was perfect for his work, allowing minimal distractions.
Indeed, when he noticed the time again, he realized he had spent not only the whole lunch hour, but also most of his free period in his lab, and he still had to set up the ingredients for his next class. It was a Gryffindor/Slytherin combined class of second year students, who he just knew he would have to watch over every second to make sure they weren't hexing each other or blowing up their cauldrons. He had less than ten minutes to finish up here and get it all assembled for them.
Thus, he was rushed getting out of the lab, practically tripping over that damned kneazle, who was scratching at his door, and rushed when he burst into the sitting room, and he was not inclined to be understanding when he saw the boy
On the couch.
'Merlin's pants, boy! Don't you know how to use the toilet?'
The only response came through chattering teeth, Harry's head still down, and now covered by his hands. 'Sorry, sir, sorry, please, I'll be good, please don't hurt me, m'sorry, sir . . .' over and over again like some sort of litany of his failures.
'Good grief,' Severus murmured, and reached for the boy's arm, only then recalling the bad ankle, and how he was supposed to take Harry to the Infirmary, and now there wasn't time before he had to be at class, and where were those infernal elves!?
With a grimace, Severus grabbed the tops of both of Harry's arms and swung him up from the couch and carried him bodily -- though keeping the boy's small, wet form as far away from his own robes as he could -- down to the bathroom, where he plunked the boy on the floor in front of the shower.
'Nelli!' he called, and when the House-elf arrived, hiding her face in her hands much like Harry still was, he growled at her, 'See that he gets cleaned up, then have Madam Pomfrey come down and take a look at his ankle. I'm late for class.' He was half way out the bathroom door before he added, 'And clean up that couch as well!'
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A/N: Thanks for all the enthusiastic reviews and encouragement for this story! Thanks, too, to Miri for her heartfelt beta-ing, especially her ubiquitous, 'You know you're mean, and sick and twisted and wrong, right?'
I should have a new chapter out in a couple of days. Harry Hugs for everyone! He's gonna need 'em.
*Chapter 6*: Chapter 6
Whelp II -- The Wrath of Snape
By jharad17
Chapter Six
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Honest. She's rich, blond and British. I'm not.
A/N: If you haven't read 'Whelp' before reading this story . . . well, why not? Really, you should, 'cause otherwise, you're gonna be plenty lost.
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Previously:
Once in his classroom, Severus was able to get a partial grip on his temper, even as he frantically started setting out potion ingredients. Hmm. Maybe he should start letting the students gather their own from the storage closet, he thought, as an added test of their skills. Not to mention, it would lessen the time he needed to prepare for each class. Time he should be spending with his son. His thoughts, as he set out jars of black beetles to be crushed, ginger root to be shredded, and monkey intestines to be chopped, returned to Harry, and the scene he had come upon in the sitting room.
What in the name of Slytherin had happened to make the boy behave so? It wasn't as if he didn't know where the toilet was, nor how to use it; he hadn't had an accident like that before, to Severus' knowledge. And his whimpering pleas had been utterly heartbreaking, as if he really feared Severus
But what had caused him to remain on the couch, when he was so obviously in distress . . .
Oh. Oh,
'
