Chương 114: Chapter 114

He could feel his rib cage being brutally crushed by the surprise move. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Like someone had just dropped an anvil on his chest, then decided to have a several ton elephant jump on him for good measure. It was pain beyond all belief and comprehension and nothing, not his spars with Master Wei, nor the occasional lashing he received from Vernon when he was younger, could have prepared him for this.

His vision began to blur. Everything became fuzzy, like the white noise you see in old black and white photos. Blackness invaded the edges of his vision.

Blood was beginning to fill his lungs. His mind, hazy from the pain and beginning to darken, could not even begin to catalog the damage done to him. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he could tell that his ribs had been crushed and several bone fragments from his ribcage had penetrated his lungs.

Breathing was becoming difficult. Already he could feel himself choking on the blood filling his air passages. Each breath brought not only excruciating amounts of asphyxiated agony, but also blood that spilled out of his mouth and ran down his chin.

Somehow, he wasn't sure how, or even fully aware of it, he still managed to keep a grip on his wand and the rope.

He couldn't help but wonder, as darkness continued to encroach on his vision, was this how he was going to die? Was this his end? Dying at the hands of a stupid beast that somehow snuck into the castle? Killed before he could ever achieve his dreams?

Such a thought would have normally left him in a rage, but he was beginning to feel tired. Too tired to call up even the smallest hint of anger, or any emotion for that matter. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Yes, that sounded nice. A good long rest. He felt he deserved that much at least.

"HARRY!"

Harry's eyes snapped open as the sound of five voices made him realize that his friends were still there. If he died now his friends would be killed. And despite any attempts at telling himself otherwise they were his friends. They weren't a means to an end anymore. He couldn't pretend that he was only concerned about what an alliance with them would bring. Where once it was all he concerned with, the benefits brought about by their friendship now seemed a trifling matter.

He might not care for them as much as he did Lisa Crawft, but he did care for them. Over the course of this past month he had come to greatly enjoy their presence. They were all so different, yet at the same time, they meshed together so well.

If variety is the spice of life, then they brought a lot of spice into his life.

He couldn't let them die. He wouldn't let them die.

In a last act of desperation, Harry completely opened the gates that kept his magic at bay. He could feel it beginning to flood into his body, could feel the excess leaking from him like an overflowing sieve.

And he could feel the small speck of darkness. The kernel of something that was not him, but still there, an evil that he had always known existed inside of himself, but had never been able to get rid of.

Those thoughts and others were washed away as soon as they came. They disappeared in an instant as the effect's of unblocking all of his magic became reality. The blood that had been choking him before stopped flooding his lungs. The intense agonizing pain that was his crushed ribcage diminished. And the fuzzy blackness that threatened to overwhelm him was pushed back.

XXXX

Snape kept the near permanent sneer on his face as he looked around at all of the other occupants within Dumbledore's office. Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout stood off to one side, speaking in hushed tones, the more diminutive of the two making slight hand gesticulations while the other one looked nervous. Knowing how excitable they were Snape had no doubt their conversation was about what happened with Potter and the troll.

A frown made its way to his face and the urge to scowl was just barely resisted. Snape wasn't quite sure what to think of Potter. The spawn of the man he hated most. The child of the woman he loved. When he first saw the brat during the sorting ceremony, strutting up to the hat like he owned the place, he had been sure the boy would be just as arrogant and insufferable as his good for nothing father.

Now he wasn't sure what to think.

Off to the side opposite of him stood Minerva McGonagall, his counterpart in many ways. She was his exact opposite in all the ways that mattered, as a teacher and a person. Her lips were drawn into a thin line and, though it was slight, Snape could feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. Most would never notice, but he had, and he was sure that Dumbledore could see it as well.

The other teachers were there as well. The dark-skinned beauty and Astronomy professor, Aurora Sinistra stood between Professors Babbling and Vector, the Arithemancy and Runes teachers respectively. Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies Professor, stood a little ways away from the others, and Quirrel had squirreled himself in the back close to the door.

Snape's sneer increased.

"Before we begin any extensive investigations into the troll's appearance," the old headmaster began, forcing Snape to look away from the turban wearing teacher and focus on him. The required shifting needed to move that little bit from staring at Quirrel to the aging headmaster forced him to aggravate his right leg. He winced and quickly shifted so that he favored his left. "I would like to know how all of the students are doing. Minerva?"

The Deputy headmistress stepped forward.

"The Gryffindors are all fine and accounted for," she started, then grimaced. "With the exception of Mr. Potter." Snape followed her example. Thankfully, it went unnoticed. "The only other two I am worried about is Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. From what I understand, Harry rescued Hermione from the troll when she was crying in the girl's restroom, and Neville was there when Harry killed the troll. He is a bit shell shocked right now. Not that I can blame him."

The line's around Minerva's eyes softened. It was almost unnoticeable. She was very good at hiding her feelings, but Snape could see it clear as day.

"Speaking of Harry, how is he doing?"

"He will live," Albus informed the room. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone except Snape, who would never show such emotion to show, even if he was relieved that the son of Lily Evans hadn't died. "Though Madam Pomfrey informed me that he has a long way to go before making a full recovery. I did not get much more out of her before she kicked me out."

His attempt at humor fell on deaf ears. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Now then, Filius, Pomona, Severus, how are your students doing?"

"My Snakes are all fine," Snape drawled, yet on the inside he was frowning. Two of his students had been quite nervous when they heard the troll had landed Potter in the hospital wing. Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini. He had no clue how they heard of the incident so quickly when all the students had been confined to their common rooms, but then, the Hogwarts rumor mill had always been quick when it came to doling out information like this—even if more than half the time that information is completely inaccurate. He suspected the portraits to be involved somehow. "They are, of course, a bit shaken. The troll had first been spotted near the dungeons, after all."