After getting Harry's reply, Severus turned his attention to sending a message; but the name was missing. Somethbg cold settled into Severus' stomach. He went to the phone; dialed the front desk, spoke very briefly to the person who answered
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Call it a sixth sense, but he felt that something was off, and decided to seek him out. Hermione wasn't likely to wake up for a time anyway.
He briefly hesitated at the top of the stairs leading to the basement before descending.
"Severus?"
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Still, there's some time until he answers the door; collected as he ever is. Hair mussed, eyes hard as flint and just as sharp. Harry Potter has never been in Snape's suite in all the time he has been here, and so the dark-hued rooms beyond should not seem amiss or out of place. The chemical tang that wafts off Snape and out of his quarters, neither, is really amiss.
"Harry," he says with a cool distance,"Is Miss Granger doing well?" he asks, as he steps aside, to let the boy into the antechamber before the rest suite. "Recuperating quickly?"
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"As well as she can be, all things considered. She's very confused." He sighed, following Severus inside. "I healed what I could and gave her half a dose of Dreamless Sleep."
No, Harry had never been there. But that still didn't alleviate the sense that something was off.
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"I am-- unaware of the tender mercies that Bellatrix had for her," Severus says slowly; there was a lot he couldn't stop or change in the war, and this is one of them. The torture of children -- real torture, not just being a raging ass at them -- was something he didn't really have truck with. "Is she injured? Or was it all magical?" No marks left, but the ones that cannot be seen.
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