Chapter Twelve

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Remus waited patiently for Severus to show up during the day, which wouldn't take long, the other wizard never slept for too many hours.

As predicted, Snape was still tired when he opened his eyes and as soon as he changed his position in the bed he felt tension on his neck and lower back, probably due to standing up all night. He wished his body could agree on sleeping as much as he needed but his sleep had always been light, and once awake, there was no going back.

He hated to admit that he would have to wash his hair right away. Standing over a boiling cauldron all night made him sweat and he was probably stinking like a salty mixture of all he had prepared in the high heat.

The black-haired wizard was fetching himself a clean set of clothes before going to the bathroom. He was particularly grumpy and couldn't avoid thinking potion making wasn't as glamorous as people thought. You don't get to simply add exotic ingredients into a cauldron, wait two minutes and get a perfect potion out of it while reading a novel. You have to read too much not to waste expensive ingredients due to mistakes. Some ingredients were tough to purify or cut in a precise way. You have to make sure everything is weighed and that once you began, you have everything you need at hand.

And also, nothing ever beats the fact sometimes he has to put his hair back and roll his sleeves up due to the heat coming from the cauldron, giving the world the image of him wearing only his inner shirt and sweaty face.

While taking a quick shower, Snape noticed he was slightly dizzy. Not sleepy or exhausted, dizzy. That was another danger of potion-making. You could get intoxicated with the fumes coming from the cauldron. Even when the final potion isn't poisonous, it didn't mean the preparation was always predictable or safe in all steps.

Snape got out of his bathroom, wearing black pants and a light white shirt. He sat on his bed to dry his hair better with a towel, but while flexing his neck forward to do so, the movement made his consciousness tremble. He felt the fabric of the towel slip through his fingers and heard it falling on the floor. All the bezoar the had was in this classroom. This wasn't good.

In the meantime, Draco was leaving the Slytherin Common Room by himself. He was feeling anxious about the Potions test he had taken the day before, afraid of what his father would think if he failed it. He always felt some extra pressure to succeed in potions, since Snape was the teacher. And sometimes, it was hard to write the answers to the most challenging questions on his tests because he was overly aware Snape would read it soon after.

Not being able to dismiss his anxiety, he decided to talk to Snape and see if he could correct his test before the others. He was going to the classroom, but in the way, he overheard students saying Professor Lupin had applied the tests this morning. That was most unusual. Was Snape sick? He never missed a day, even when he was unwell.

Draco changed his course and went to Snape's private dorms, feeling in trouble just for being at that part of the castle. While approaching, he heard a loud noise coming from inside the room. It seemed like a shelf had fallen and a lot of books came along.

The young Malfoy widened his eyes and started knocking Snape's door. When he didn't receive an answer in the first five seconds, he panicked and entered anyway.

"Severus!! Are you ok?!" The blond said approaching him fast

Snape was sitting down on the floor, but he seemed to be having a hard time getting up. By the looks of it, he lost his balance and tried to grab on one of his bookshelves, making multiple books fall.

"Draco... Go to my classroom and get a bezoar. It's in the wooden box close to the herbs," Snape said, feeling his jaw go numb and eyes get heavy.

"Ok, ok... did you get hurt?" Draco asked fast, still freaking out

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