Work Text:
A Healing Hand
Harry took a shaky breath as one of his hands covered the other. If he looked, it would be covered in the excess blood from the deep wound.
He winced as pain shot through the wound and up his wrist with each step. Fuck! He couldn’t let it get more infected than it already was.
His stomach was queasy at the thought of removing his hand. He knew what he would see. At first, he didn’t think his hand was that bad. Sure, it had been bleeding a lot even after his detentions. But you could start to see pus mixing with the blood.
Perhaps if he had been in his normal state, he would have seen a shadow around the corner, almost following him. But even only he could only stand so much pain. Enough to make the risk, the wrath of a certain Potion’s Master.
“A Gryffindor breaking into the dungeons, what a surprise.” Came a deep voice, you could hear the sarcasm.
Harry spun around in shock, only just suppressing the scream that wanted to burst out at the arrival of the intimidating former Slytherin Headboy and Quidditch Captain. He had given those titles to the next Slytherin, a decision that Minerva McGonagall finalized.
"Flint" Harry gasped, his uninjured hand flying to his chest while the injured hand flew to hide behind his back.
"Want to tell me why a Gryffindor, a reckless one that that, decided to wander down the dungeons and break into Professor Snape's classroom?" Marcus crossed his arms.
"What's it to you!? I don't have to answer to you! You're not a prefect or Headboy anymore!" Harry snapped, his temper flaring.
"Alright, I guess I will just have to escort you to Professor Snape then," Marcus smirked, "and he is even worse when he is woken up in the middle of the night to handle dunderheads"
Harry looked hesitant, the one person he wanted to avoid was Snape.
"What do you want?" Harry bit out.
"Dangerous question to ask a Slytherin, Potter," Marcus smirked with a chuckle. "But for now, I want the truth. What are you doing breaking into Snape's storeroom after hours?"
"Technically you aren't a Slytherin anymore," Harry pointed out. That was when he sighed, a defeated looked came across his face.
Would it really be so bad to let someone help him? Even if it was an ex-Slytherin. He had never been one to accept help. So, he slid his hand from behind his back and showed it to the former Headboy.
"What the fuck!" Marcus growled, hand shooting out to grasp Harry's wrist. Pulling it closer to examine under the light.
"This is Blood Quill damage," he gaped; he had never seen anything this bad before. Blood Quills were used by goblins and lawyers for binding contracts, but you had to dip your hand in specific potions to heal without a scar. But it was undeniable. This was a severely infected wound caused by the prolonged use of a Blood Quill.
"I've got to get you to the Hospital Wing," Marcus said sternly, opening the storeroom door.
"Hospital Wing!?" Harry's voice went higher. "It's not that bad!"
Despite his words, Harry knew it was a lie. He had never heard the Slytherin so furious about something. And he played Quidditch against him for years. Though he didn't know it had been a Blood Quill. He didn't even know what they were used for.
"Potter, you could die of blood poisoning!" Marcus snapped. "Not only is that severely infected but Blood Quills are very dangerous to a magical's core. If you were a muggle, you would dead or in a coma by now. A coma that you would never wake up from!"
Harry gulped at that; he hadn't known it could be that bad. Though he supposed that would be better to dealing with Umbridge or even his own relatives.
"Madam Pomfrey didn't know what else to do besides apply Murtlap," Harry said, his voice small.
"You've been to Madam Pomfrey already?" Marcus suddenly stopped, turning to stare at the small Gryffindor. It was hard not to notice that the teen barely reached his own shoulders.
Harry crossed his arms in a defensive manner, "isn't that what I just said. So, a trip is pointless. Just going to get the usual lecture and a vial of Murtlap."
"Murtlap won't do shit besides try to burn the edges of the wound and dissolve dirt." Marcus scowled, "even I know that." He was baffled, how could Poppy only give Harry Murtlap for this and not report anything? It made no sense to him.
"Who made you use the Blood Quill anyway?" Marcus asked as he forced Harry to walk in front of him, continuing the way to the infirmary.
Harry stiffened, "it's not like you don’t already know... everyone else does..."
"Everyone knows?" Marcus repeated dully, "What is going on? Who did this?"
"Who else," Harry growled, "and if you need a hint. They like pink."
"Fucking Umbridge," Marcus snarled, shivers ran down Harry's spine at the sound of it. The former Slytherin sounded angry on his behalf and almost feral.
"Why Dumbledore hired her will never make sense to me. The stupid witch is constantly making new laws to make things harder for those with creature blood or are lesser in her eyes."
"Wait... you don't believe what she is doing is right!?" Harry asked. This was new to him; he had assumed all Slytherins were like Malfoy.
"Of course, I don't!" Marcus scowled, looking pissed off. "What? You think all Slytherins are evil like Voldemort or just high and mighty narcissists like Malfoy?"
Harry gave a sheepish grin, "Malfoy and his goons certainly made it look that way. And it's not like Slytherins go out of their way to be nice either."
"Why should we?" Marcus asked, "We get lumped in with the rest and everyone makes their assumptions before we can even speak. We will lose more points than any other house for the same thing and unless we have the right allies, we won't get hired anywhere. Why should we break our necks for those who judge us on our house alone?"
"You know there are students that don't believe in that stupid rivalry. And as much as I hate to admit it, you're right. Though, I already knew Terence wasn't like that, he doesn’t cheat in Quidditch," Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"Terence should have been a Hufflepuff," Marcus scoffed fondly, he still got daily letters from him.
"I know not everyone thinks that way, I've got friends from all four houses. But I am not going to change who I am or kiss ass to get approval from people who don't even try to get know me."
"You are also known for cursing first," Harry pointed out. "It wasn't on my high list to get cursed for asking for help."
Marcus snorted, "I only curse those who deserve it. Like Malfoy on more than one occasion."
"And the Gryffindors," Harry asked.
Marcus ignored the question as he opened the door to the Hospital Wing.
"Good, it's empty," he muttered.
"You never answered my question," Harry said.
"It's called being on the defensive. I'm not going to leave myself defenseless."
"Come, sit down," Marcus ordered pointing to a bed as he opened the infirmary's storage room. Rifling through all the potions, balms, ointments, and creams to find what he needed.
Harry frowned, that was more because of his last few words. He felt uncertain and it wasn't like he suddenly trusted Marcus. But he knew he had to.
He watched as Marcus pulled out what he needed, letting them float beside him and he kept looking. Harry's green eyes got wide at the number of vials Marcus seemed to think he needed. He looked at his hand with a frown trying to flex his fingers only to gasp in pain at the movement.
"Don't move your fingers or touch it," Marcus called over his shoulder without even looking. "Ah-ha!" He cried as he finally found the last thing he needed and made his way over, the floating vials following him.
"Mind reading Slytherins..." Harry muttered. Though he definitely wasn't going to try that again. He still wanted that Murtlap, it helped at least, even if it was only temporary relief.
He froze when Marcus threw up a Silencing Charm around them.
"This is going to hurt; it is already severely infected and to make matters worse you have using Murtlap. Fixing this isn't going to be as easy as mending broken bones. It's dark magic that has infected your hand. But to get rid of it, you are going to scream, and I can’t give you Numbing Potions or else we won't be able to tell what's healthy still."
"What about pain potions?" Harry asked tentatively, although he already suspected the answer.
"They will interact with the other potions. I am sorry but you can't take one until the worst is over." Marcus grimaced. "Here, this potion will stabilize your core and this one will start fighting any blood poisoning." This was said as he handed over two potions, one bright pink and the other black and sludgy.
"Which one is first?" Harry asked, his lips were tight, as if expecting the pain to hit any moment.
"Doesn't matter," Marcus, watching with an eagle eye as Harry shrugged and downed both as quickly as possible. Forcing down his gag reflex.
"Merlin those are bad." He cried, as he forcefully swallowed, refusing to throw up.
"Yeah, unfortunately, ingredients to help with taste will throw off any potion and can change a normal healing potion to poison or make it useless," Marcus nodded as he nonverbally cast Lumos and his wand lit up. He carefully pulled Harry's hand up to examine it carefully.
"Least we know it wasn't because it was to torture us..." Harry remarked, it had always seemed a thing Snape would do.
Marcus laughed, "Yeah, I believed that for a while as well." He admitted, "alright, brace yourself, Potter." He warned as he raised his wand, with a soft-spoken incantation, he removed the top layer of dead and infected skin, eyes darting to look at Harry in surprise when the boy didn't even flinch. The wound was now inflamed red, but he could see it a lot clearer.
The edges of the words carved in the skin were all torn and singed, thanks to the bloody Murtlap. The thick yellow pus seeped out slowly, he was as careful and soft as he could be as he dabbed it softly, keeping the area clean. Squeezing out as much infection as he could.
"Alright, I have to flush out the wound with distilled water," he warned.
Harry nodded, his eyes peeking at the wound on his hand. So, maybe Marcus had a point that it was bad before looking away. Even the pain wasn't that bad, unless it got worse later.
Marcus carefully lifted his wand and pointed it at the wound, "Aguamenti," he whispered, keeping the image of the spell in his head. With practice and focus he could control the water flow and intensity. Right now, he wasn't using it in a duel and did not need it to explode out and push his opponent over.
The small jet that came out was enough pressure to clean the wound without doing further damage. "You alright?" He asked when he felt Harry's hand shudder under his.
"Just cold," Harry murmured, blushing when Marcus' large hands cupped his gently and he grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, forgot to warn you about that, hot water will just irritate the open skin unfortunately."
"Duly noted," Harry muttered.
"Alright, we need to remove this dead tissue here," Marcus said as he inspected the hand. "It will hurt but thankfully I can use a small Numbing spell, it won't last long, and you will still feel tugging."
Harry groaned and closed his eyes with a nod, flinching when he felt Marcus' wand prod the area and slowly cut the dead skin off with a precise Cutting Charm.
He was a bit thankful that there wasn't much dead tissue for Marcus to cut away. The pain wasn't bad enough that he would have screamed from it. But he did feel the tugging and whatever Numbing spell Marcus used, he didn't feel it at all. Unless the spell hit most of the pain, but he was doubting that.
"There we go" Marcus grinned, "alright that charm will be wearing off right about now, and I need to rinse the wound again with a saline solution this time. It might sting but shouldn't be too bad."
Harry gave out a breathy sigh before nodding, he still was refusing to look back at his hand. Given the fact he almost got sick at its earlier state. But it did feel better, given how many times Umbridge made him use that quill. That part wasn't a surprise given Marcus was healing it. But it was hard to think back when his hand wasn't in pain.
The sting was minuscule, Harry noticed, he could feel it but only just.
"Is that it?" He joked, grinning when Marcus chuckled, deep rambles.
"How much is left," Harry asked, turning serious. He felt like he had been in the Hospital Wing for hours. He wasn't sure if he had been or not.
"I've got a potion to drizzle on it, this will hurt awfully, but I can't use the numbing spell again. Otherwise, it will interact badly," Marcus said holding up a sluggish purple and brown sort of potion vial. "Then I have a paste that will seal and protect the wound and I can close the wound."
Harry looked at Marcus in determination, "do it," he ordered. The faster they did this, the faster the pain would be over. He didn't want to stew over the fact it would be painful.
Marcus nodded and squeezed Harry's hand softly before opening the vial and pouring it over the letters engraved in the small hand. His grey eyes darted up to look at Harry expecting an expression of pain and screams.
But what he was met with a slight wince from the Gryffindor.
Harry didn't get why Marcus said when it would really hurt. Sure, it did sting a lot, but it wasn't like it was going to make him keel over in pain. He made a slight wince at the initial contact of the potion meeting his hand. But that was really the only reaction he made.
The potion was bubbling over the wounds turning a dark blue, which indicated it was finished but Harry hadn't made a sound.
"How are you not screaming or moving around?" Marcus gaped.
Harry shrugged, "it stung a little, but it really didn't hurt that much. I don't know why you're so worked up about it."
“Merlin, Potter,” Marcus shook his head, “this usually brings people to tears and to their knees.”
"Pretty sure you're exaggerating; it wasn't that bad. Peeling the skin off hurt more than that. And in case it slipped your notice, I can't be like most people," Harry huffed.
"Harry," Marcus said softly, Harry looked up in shock at the use of his first name. "I've had this potion when a dark Cutting Curse sliced my calf when I was 14. Graham and Terence had to hold me down as I screamed." Marcus felt vulnerable but knew he had to get his point across, it wasn't normal that Harry wasn't reacting.
The Gryffindor looked taken back at that.
"What do you want me to say, then? Just because I seem to have a higher pain tolerance than most, apparently," Harry crossed his good arm around himself, feeling self-conscious.
"Look, I am just going to ask because I don't know how to be delicate. It just ain't me." Marcus grunted, "your family hurts you? Enough that this isn't a major pain to you."
"What family," Harry grumbled, not quite revealing the truth about his relatives. That was something even he didn't want to admit to himself. Not because he believed they would eventually care for him. But because of the truth.
"Mine did too, loved to curse me and my brother."
Harry blinked, looking up at Marcus as the large ex-Slytherin calmly applied a moss green paste over the wounds. "He got me out the day he turned eighteen, I was fourteen and had just gotten the cutting to my leg and he had used his own private vault to buy us a house."
Harry listened carefully as the paste started to work and suddenly there was such strong relief. No pain, no throbbing, and no tenseness.
"Wow," he whispered, flexing his fingers, Marcus chuckled again, causing Harry to blush.
"Yeah, that paste is amazing," He laughed.
"So, you live with him still? Your brother?"
Marcus nodded, "when I'm not living here in one of the spare rooms. He's usually doing some job abroad. The Goblins like to run him all over the country."
"Must be nice having a brother that loves you." Harry smiled "I've always been jealous of the Weasleys for that." He sighed as Marcus started to use his wand to stitch Harry's skin together. Harry watched wide-eyed as there was only a light scar left behind. Magic was amazing.
"What's going to be done about Umbridge?" He looked back up at Marcus. "She is just going to find another reason to make me use that quill of hers."
"Not after tonight, she won't," Marcus scowled as he finished the stitching. "She is going to wish she was dead."
Harry’s eyes brightened at that, “what are you going to do?”
"I may know a few spells that are still legal enough that the wards won't detect it," the smirk that Marcus gave was sinister.
"Can I come?" Harry asked biting his lip as he grinned.
"You really want to watch me possibly cut her head off or bleed to death?" Marcus asked, baffled.
"She has been using dark magic on me all year," Harry sneered. "She cursed Fred and George so they can't talk about whatever went down in their detention, I haven't found a counter yet, but they flinch whenever she walks into a room. With the shaking after the detention, Lee suspects the Cruciatus."
"How sure are you?" Marcus asked seriously, "Cruciatus shaking means they were under it long enough to need treatment."
Harry gave Marcus a scathing look, "given that I've been hit by it numerous times. I'm sure, I may be a Gryffindor, but I am not stupid nor a liar."
“Who hit you with and when?" Marcus demanded with fire in his eyes. He quickly waved his wand over Harry testing his nerves for damage.
"Uh, Voldemort last year at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, Umbridge this year about a week ago. She thought I would know where Dumbledore disappeared off to. And apparently she used up all of Snape’s Veritaserum."
“That fucking toady bitch!” Marcus snapped.
Despite the tense conversation, Harry couldn't help the snicker that slipped through his lips. A toad definitely would describe that witch perfectly. Though it was weird feeling that a Slytherin that he didn't know much about, was that concerned about him. It was weird and odd, but he liked it.
"You need the Cruciatus Nerve Restoration Potion," Marcus growled, "I am betting your twins need it too." He quickly Accioed the black potion to his hands.
Harry swallowed without complaint beyond a scrunched face.
"Here, give these to the Weasleys," Marcus added handing over two more vials. Harry nodded seriously shoving them into his robe pocket.
"Did you make this?" Harry asked, he noted that Pomfrey had never used the cupboard Marcus was grabbing Potions out of.
Then he realized something.
"Wait... is there an unbreakable charm on them?" He paused to ask, last thing he needed were for them to break in his robes.
"Yeah, now I am training here I get my own supply that I have to keep stock of. Every Monday I am making every potion that is required for Hogwarts to stock." Marcus nodded with a grin. "As a Medi Wizard, you need to be able to keep track of potions and what you will need for worst-case scenarios. And yes, those vials are protected."
Harry looked intrigued by that; he never would have thought that a Slytherin would like to heal. But he was learning that not every Slytherin was like Malfoy and would follow their father's footsteps.
"You still want to come with me? I am going tonight," Marcus asked, "and if you want to learn more about my apprenticeship, I will gladly tell you more."
"Do you really think that I will skip out on missing Umbridge get her own medicine?” Harry scoffed.
A dark grin came over Marcus' face as he led Harry out of the infirmary, "You've surprised me tonight, Potter, could've been a great Slytherin" he winked.
Harry laughed, a light blush on his cheeks, "what makes you think the hat didn't want me one?"
"No shit?!" Marcus cried spinning around to face Harry, walking backwards. "The hat wanted you in Slytherin but put you in Gryffindor?"
He shrugged, "Malfoy didn't make the best impression on me and I didn't want to be living in the same dorm as him for seven years."
Marcus erupted into laughter.
"Yeah, I can understand that. The Malfoys are the worst and give Slytherin a bad name. But Draco is the worst yet, mostly because his mother is an insane Black." Harry snorted as Marcus continued.
"Not as crazy as her sister Bellatrix, but insane in her own way. Every one of Black blood is slightly affected by the Black curse but in varying degrees or ways."
"What would that make Sirius Black, then?" Harry grinned., curious on what the Slytherin would say.
"Probably one of the only good Black's alive. That man wasn't any Death Eater. I don't know who framed him, but my father used to laugh about it a lot. All of the Inner Circle knew and they were loud when drinking together."
"He's my godfather," Harry whispered as they reached the moving staircases.
"I know," Marcus smiled, "I also know you are in contact and that you are the one who rescued him from the tower."
"How?!" Harry gaped.
"Me, Graham, and Terence were in the courtyard when you two were saying goodbye," he chuckled. "You guys weren't exactly subtle hugging and swearing to stay in touch."
Harry blushed before muttering, "eavesdropping Slytherins...."
Marcus just shrugged with a smirk as they got off the stairs on the third floor. Heading left instead of right where the Cerebus, Fluffy had lived for most of Harry's first year.
"You know, I am a Black," Harry with a devious grin and side-eye at Marcus looking for his reaction.
Marcus tripped back over his feet, stumbling for a moment. Dark eyes were wide in shock and mouth open. "Uhhh, what!? I never read about that family line connection." Marcus finally got out as he straightened up.
Harry snickered, "wouldn't be hard. "Dorea Black was Cassiopeia's sister. But she married my grandfather, Charlus Potter."
"Ah, the famous Dorea. A strong and magically powerful dueler, who never bowed to any purist or family." Marcus grinned. "She was disowned for marrying a Gryffindor Light Wizard. Kind of my brother, Callum's hero and he used the escape plan she did." He laughed, Harry, joining him. He loved hearing about his family. Turns out his Father got his dramatics from his Mother.
"She was never marred from the Black Tapestry," Harry recalled. Sirius had explained to him that when a Black was disowned, it was burned off.
"I don't think she was ever disowned," Harry brought up.
"If she wasn't, then legally you have access to every Black vault from her line. I don't believe any of her sibling's children are alive. So, you would inherit all of their vaults and belongings as well." Marcus mused.
"Except Malfoy, but his connection is one generation more than you, so you are closer and more likely to be ruled the heir."
Harry made a small laugh, “that would make his day if that’s true.”
"We could go to Gringotts, with Sirius as your Godfather and Dorea as your Grandmother, you should be eligible for the Black Lordship. Which would make Malfoy furious." Marcus smirked; grinning Harry burst into laughter. They both went silent quickly as Marcus realized how close they had gotten to Umbridge's sleeping quarters.
"Ahhh... dear brother of mine, why so quiet? It's not like you're going to bother anyone of worth," came a deep voice, who happened to come from the direction they were heading in.
Harry jumped in fright, whipping out his wand with a curse on his lips.
"Whoa, little lion!" The voice chuckled, stepping out of the shadows was a near perfect image of Marcus.
Though his hair was a bit longer and had a wave to it.
"I can see how he held your attention, little brother," the older Flint said with a glint in his eye.
"Callum," Marcus groaned, "what are you doing here?"
The older brother grinned before teasing, “what? Can’t a brother be nice and visit their baby brother?”
Marcus snorted, "yeah... but you and nice don't go in the same sentence."
"What's going on?" Harry asked baffled, eyes shooting between the bantering brothers. In the light, he could see more differences between the two. Callum was leaner and taller, his jaw sharper, but it was the giant scar going down his face that made Harry blink. It went from the left side of his forehead and down through his eyelid, over his nose and ending halfway down the right of his neck.
"So how did you end up with a pet lion?" Callum asked, leaning sideways to rest on the brick walls.
"Found him sneaking into the dungeons, about to break into Professor Snape's private stores," Marcus revealed.
"Marcus!" Harry hissed, blushing as Callum looked over him appraisingly.
"Ooh, naughty lion." Callum chuckled, “and just what were you doing there?"
"He was trying to find Murtlap for a Blood Quill injury," Marcus groaned, dropping an arm over Harry's shoulders. "But I managed to save him and heal the wound."
"Well done baby brother, always knew you were made for good things." Callum smirked. "Of course, he would come to the rescue of Umbridge's victims.
"Hang on, we never said anything about Umbridge," Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Why you are here?" Marcus asked with a sinking feeling in his gut.
His older brother smirked, "may have taken care of a problem long time coming. And... because of this."
Callum Flint held up a letter.
Marcus recognized the writing immediately, "Terence? Why would Terence write to you?"
"Probably because he thought I was out of the country. I figured it be as good as invite as any. So, I decided to pay Hogwarts a little visit," Callum grinned.
"Give it here." Marcus rolled his eyes and grabbed the letter. He felt the anger bubbling up inside him as he read.
"The fucking toad did something to Tiheria!" Marcus snarled, looking ready to smash the door in front of them down.
"Yeah," Callum nodded looking serious. "She couldn't say much in the letter to Terence, some kind of a dark magic Silence Curse. But it was enough to make him worry, he only wanted advice, but I knew I had to get here."
"What did you do to her?" Marcus asked, he knew his brother would have done something if he was this calm.
Callum gave a sinister smile, "she'll be spiller her guts for a bit..."
"You killed her without us?" Harry scowled as Callum let out a startled laugh. "And who is Tiheria?"
"Looks like you stole his kill, brother dearest," Marcus muttered sarcastically.
"She's Terence's youngest sister, a Slytherin," Callum explained.
"She's twelve" Marcus scowled. "I will track her done tomorrow and see what's wrong. With the Toad’s death, everyone can come clean and tell people what happened."
"It won't change that Terence will be upset about what really happened," Marcus continued. “But I know him, he will be satisfied that the toad suffered."
"Good," Harry muttered vindictively, the two Flints chuckling.
"Who knew a Gryffindor could be so bloodthirsty," Callum smirked.
"Technically was supposed to be a Slytherin," Marcus cut in as he crossed his arms. He still felt insulted that he could have had an amazing Seeker for Slytherin and got stuck with Draco Malfoy.
"I think I can deal with my brother wanting to be with a Slytherin then," Callum grinned.
Callum!" Marcus yelled, embarrassed.
Harry blushed bright red and shuffled his feet, anxiously wringing his hands.
"Right well, I will leave you two to it." Callum winked and nudged Marcus before sauntering off leaving Marcus cursing behind him.
"So, what now?" Harry asked softly.
"Well, I suggest we leave before anyone sees us and places us here at her time of death," Marcus muttered as he surveyed the area. "Come on, I will walk you back to the Gryffindor Tower." He smiled.
The walk seemed shorter to Gryffindor Tower than Marcus had remembered. Yet when Marcus turned to face Harry, he felt nervous.
"Any chance you'll accompany a grumpy ole Slytherin to Hogsmeade next weekend?"
"As long as you promise it not to be Madam Puddifoot's," Harry grinned back at him. And with Umbridge gone, there was no way he wasn't allowed now.
"Never," Marcus laughed, his eyes seemed to be searching Harry's face for something, and Harry felt his breath hitch when he leaned in and softly kissed him.
Harry melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Marcus' neck, toes barely touching the ground. Marcus' wide and thick arms tightened around his waist as he pulled him close. They didn't pull away from each other until their chests were screaming for air. Foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath, unwilling to part just yet.
"I will meet you by the entrance hall at noon tomorrow?" Marcus asked, his deep voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Yeah," Harry nodded dazedly. "I can't wait."