As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you

Chapter 1

The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the dungeons, casting an eerie, muted light on the rows of wooden desks and bubbling cauldrons. Severus Snape, his robes billowing as he moved, prepared for another day of teaching Potions. His dark eyes surveyed the ingredients laid out meticulously, ensuring everything was in its place. He knew from experience that the slightest deviation could result in disaster.

The classroom began to fill with the subdued chatter of students. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger took their usual seats, Harry and Ron exchanging a look of wary anticipation. Potions with Snape was never a walk in the park, and today was no exception.

"Silence," Snape's voice cut through the room, immediately quelling any whispers. "Today, we will be brewing a Swelling Solution. If done correctly, it can be used to treat various ailments. If done incorrectly," he let the words hang ominously in the air, "the results can be... unfortunate."

He glanced at each student, his gaze lingering a moment longer on Harry. "Instructions are on the board. Follow them precisely." With a flick of his wand, the steps appeared in neat, flowing script.

The class set to work, chopping and measuring ingredients. Harry, Ron, and Hermione worked quietly, their heads bent over their cauldrons. Hermione's brow was furrowed in concentration, Ron's face was a mask of determination, and Harry, though focused, couldn't shake a sense of foreboding.

An hour passed, the room filled with the sounds of bubbling liquids and the occasional murmur. Snape prowled between the desks, correcting a student's technique here, criticizing another's potion there.

Then it happened. A loud hiss followed by a bubbling over of a cauldron drew everyone's attention. Neville Longbottom stood frozen, his face pale. His potion was frothing wildly, the liquid turning a dangerous shade of green.

Snape was at his side in an instant, his face a mask of controlled anger. "Longbottom," he hissed, "what have you done?"

Neville stammered, "I-I added the porcupine quills too soon, sir."

The potion was bubbling violently now, emitting a noxious green vapor. Snape's eyes widened slightly, realizing the potential danger.

"Everyone, get down!" he commanded, his voice ringing with authority. He raised his wand and cast a protective spell just as the cauldron exploded. The room was filled with a blinding flash of green light and the acrid smell of burnt potion.

Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione, pulling them to the floor as the explosion rocked the room. When the light faded and the smoke began to clear, the students cautiously looked up. The protective shield Snape had cast had absorbed much of the blast, but the professor himself had not been so lucky.

Snape lay on the floor, unconscious and badly injured. Cuts and burns marred his usually pale skin, his robes singed and torn. The room was in chaos, students crying out in fear and confusion.

Harry's heart pounded as he took in the scene. He quickly scrambled to Snape's side, his mind racing. "Hermione, go get Madame Pomfrey!" he shouted, his voice breaking with urgency.

Hermione nodded, her face pale with shock, and bolted from the room. Ron knelt beside Harry, his expression a mix of fear and determination.

"What do we do, Harry?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Harry swallowed hard, trying to remember what he knew about first aid. "We need to stop the bleeding," he said, tearing a strip from his robe and pressing it against a particularly nasty cut on Snape's arm. "Ron, help me turn him onto his side, we need to make sure he's breathing properly."

Together, they managed to roll Snape gently, checking his airway and ensuring he was in a stable position. Harry's mind raced as he worked, the reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in. Snape had saved them, risking his own life to protect his students.