Chapter Text
Harry was watching the Slytherin table closely the next morning at breakfast. Something seemed to be happening. He saw the older years whispering amongst themselves and throwing murderous looks down at Tim’s end of the table. His eyes was drawn to one dark-haired Slytherin that looked around sixteen. Beside him, Ron was giggling to himself.
“That’s Hugin Carrow,” Ron whispered to him.
“How’d you know that?” Harry asked. He didn’t like how the older boy was starting at Tim like he was deciding whether to remove his organs alphabetically or from top to bottom.
“We’ve grown close,” Ron laughed, “I think he was reluctant at first but now we’re best friends.” Carrow gaze flickered over to the Gryffindor table.
“Are you sure?” Harry said. Carrow’s dark eyes found Ron’s face and they looked anything but friendly. “Isn’t he the one who’s been hurting Tim?” Harry was tempted to cause the jug of pumpkin juice voice in front of the boy to tip all over him. He might have done it too if he didn’t fear that Carrow would take out any anger on Tim. Harry hadn’t been able to talk to Tim last night about the Slytherin purebloods. He hated the thought that he couldn’t do anything to protect his brother.
“He was,” Ron said darkly, “but I think he’s going to turn over a new leaf. I bet he’s about to stand up and apologise to him.”
“You bet?” Harry sceptically raised his eyebrows.
“Yep,” Ron popped the p, “I bet you five galleons he will.”
Just as Ron said this, the sixth year stood up and a hush fell over the Slytherin table. Harry leant forward to try and hear him better.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Ron’s grin widened, “you’ll hear him just fine.”
Carrow cast one last deadly look at Ron before turning to Tim. He moved down the table until he stood directly beside Tim. His face pinched like he was being forced to drink off milk, he extended a hand to Tim. His voice could indeed be heard across the hall, even the teachers had fallen silent to watch. “On behalf of the house of Carrow, I extend my apologies,” Carrow ground out. It was probably the least sincere apology, Harry had ever heard and he'd been there when Dudley pretended to apologise to their neighbour for throwing a tortoise through her greenhouse. Still, Tim accepted it gracefully. He gripped Carrow’s forearm and bent his read respectively.
“Apology accepted, Carrow,” Tim said, his words could just be heard over the silent hall. Carrow ripped his hand out of Tim’s and returned to his end of the table sulkily. Harry was satisfied to see Malfoy’s mouth hanging open at the display. The shocked silence across the hall lasted for nearly a solid minute before it filled once more with the clatter of cutlery and sleepy conversations.
Harry hurried over to Tim as soon as breakfast ended. “What happened last night?”
Tim simply smiled. He turned to Ron, standing just behind Harry. “Carrow slipped me this. I believe it’s for you.” Ron took the five galleons and shoved them deep into his pocket.
“Well, whatever you did,” Harry said, “keep it up.”
“Believe me, I intend to,” Ron grinned.
“Just be careful who you upset,” Tim warned him, “some of these people…”
“I know, I know,” Ron said, “but it’s not they’d ever like me anyway as a Weasley. At least this way, they get what’s coming to them and I get five galleons.”
Something made Harry glance up to the Slytherin table and saw Professor Snape looking down at them. He had a considering expression. Tim followed his gaze and snapped his fingers.
“Ah, that reminds me. Does Gryffindor heads of houses make you do medical checks?”
“I’ve never heard of that,” Ron said.
“Alright then,” Tim gripped Harry’s end, “I’m taking you to the hospital wing.”
“But I’m not sick,” Harry protested.
“When I got here, there was a list of wizarding vaccinations I needed,” Tim explained, “you’ll need them too and I think you should get your eyes checked.”
“I can see,” Harry had no desire to be prodded and poked by a doctor. He’d only been to the doctor once and it had been a thoroughly unpleasant experience. People kept asking a lot of questions about how exactly he broke his collar bone. Aunt Petunia locked him in the cupboard for almost a month afterwards.
“It’ll be quick,” Tim assured him, “I was just in and out for mine.”
“I remember getting my vaccinations,” Ron had decided to join them. It was a Saturday so they didn’t have any classes to get to. “They gave me a liquorice wand. You’ll be fine.”
“It’s not needles I’m afraid of,” Harry muttered but he let himself be dragged away. Tim could get like this sometimes and it was always easier to go with it. He remembered an incident early on after he’d teleported to Gotham. Harry had let it slip that he’d never been to the dentist. Tim had basically refused to let go until of Harry until he agreed to follow him to a free dentist clinic.
“Madame Pomfrey doesn’t ask too many questions,” Tim clearly picked up on Harry’s real fear, “just pretend it’s a muggle thing. She barely asked me anything in my appointment except for a bit of confusion about when I got shot.”
“EXCUSE ME?!” Harry whirled around. “YOU GOT SHOT!”
A few passing Ravenclaws stared at him.
“Oh, yeah,” Tim laughed awkwardly, “it was ages ago, way before you came.”
“Was it related to…” Harry glanced at Ron, not wanting to speak in front of him.
“No, no,” Tim waved the comment away, “it was even before that. I was seven, I think. Some discount thugs kidnapped me from my primary school and they didn’t much like that my parents refused to pay the ransom but I got away fine. They didn’t think I could get out of those handcuffs. That was around the time, I was getting the hang of my meta healing. It all worked out in the end, there’s not even a scar. I just never got the bullet back out again.”
“I have so many questions?” Ron said, “you were kidnapped?”
“It’s pretty common in Gotham,” Tim said easily.
“Were they caught?” Harry asked.
“Yep,” Tim said, “it was really easy too. I found CCTV footage which got a full view of their faces. Turns out they’d been involved in a series of kidnappings and the police caught them outside the school."
"Do you need to see the doctor as well?” Harry said, “To get the bullet out?”
“I never did tell you about it,” Tim shrugged easily, “I got it removed months ago. It only took like a second so I guess I just forgot to tell you.”
“You forgot,” Harry said fainty.
“And here it is.” Tim gestured at a door in front of them. Harry hadn’t even realised they had arrived. They entered a clean, white space with rows of neatly made beds and cabinets full of various potions, bandages and empty glass vials.
“What can I do for you?” A stern looking woman in an old fashioned nurse’s outfit came up to them.
Tim pushed Harry forward. “Um,” Harry fiddled with his glasses, “I need to get some wizarding vaccines.”
“And his eyes need to be checked,” Tim added.
The woman, Madame Pomfrey, clicked her tongue, looking Harry up and down. “Get up on a bed. Do you want your friends to stay?”
“Maybe just Tim, sorry Ron,” Harry said. He knew his time at the Dursleys had left marks that he didn’t want anyone to know about.
“No problem, mate,” Ron said, “I’ll wait outside for you.”
Harry sat on the bed, fiddling with the fitted sheet.
“I’ll just need to perform a basic diagnosis spell,”
“Do you have to?” Harry interrupted the medi-witch, “Can’t you just give me the vaccines?”
Tim gripped Harry’s hand. “It’s ok,” he whispered softly, “let her do her job.” Harry tried to relax as Madame Pomfrey performed a quick spell on him. He felt a strange sensation, similar to the disillusionment charm and a roll of parchment appeared in Madame Pomfrey’s hand. It grew longer and longer as the cold sensation slid from Harry’s head to his toes.
The medi-witch looked between Tim and Harry. “You live together, correct?”
“Yeah, we do.” Tim spoke for Harry.
“With your parents?”
This was the part Harry dreaded. The conversation always came back to the matter of parents. “I think I should get your head of house, Mr Drake," the medi-witch said to Harry.
This was the last thing he wanted. “Can you get Professor Snape instead?” he asked, a little desperately. Professor Snape had said his office was always open. Of course, he was talking about Harry asking questions for Harry Potter but he hoped the potions master wouldn’t mind being bothered with this.
“If you want,” Madame Pomfrey said. She waved her wand and muttered something like “expect patronum.” A silver blackbird appeared from her wand. “Go get Severus,” Madame Pomfrey said to the bird, “let him know that he better come quick.”
“I can give you the vaccinations as we wait,” Madame Pomfrey said in a clipped, professional voice, “it seems you’ll also need your muggle vaccines. What arm is dominant?”
“My right,” Harry said.
“Pull up your left sleeve then.”
Harry did as he was told. Madame Pomfrey left and returned with a tray full of needles. Harry wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t afraid of needles. There were quite a lot of them but Harry didn’t feel a thing.
“When did you last get your eyes checked? Madame Pomfrey took off Harry’s glasses, examining them in distaste.
“By a doctor?” Harry asked, confused. “My aun-I mean my parents just got me these from the Salvos.”
“Right,” Madame Pomfrey said shortly. She went to another cabinet and drew out a collection of glasses in all different shapes and sizes. "Pick one you like.”
Harry chose a gold rimmed, circular pair, quite similar to the ones he already had. The medi-witch tapped them with her wand and handed them over. “I want you to look at that poster over there and read out what you can see.”
Harry squinted through the glasses trying to make out the small lettering on the other side of the room.
Madame Pomfrey kept tapping the glasses and asking Harry to read the poster until the blurriness faded and he could see all the letters, even the tiny ones at the bottom.
“Did you enhance my eyes?” Harry asked in wonder. He spun around and saw that everything was so clear. Out the window, he could make out the edges of the clouds rather than just seeing fuzzy blobs and he could make out each blade of grass.
“I think you’ll find that’s how everyone sees,” Madame Pomfrey said with a hint of amusement.
“Wow,” Harry breathed out.
The hospital wing door opened and Professor Snape stormed inside, his robes billowing around him.
“Good, you’re here,” Madame Pomfrey said. She beckoned for Snape to come closer and pulled the curtain around Harry’s bed so Tim, Harry and Snape were cut off from the rest of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey handed over the roll of parchment she’d created earlier and Snape scanned its contents, her expression changing from a kind of sad understanding to pure fury. Harry shrunk back against the bed, away from him. Snape noticed the movement and visibly relaxed, his face going blank.
“I see,” Snape said at last. He looked at Tim and Harry. “I think we have a quite a few things to talk about.”