Chapter Text
Oh god, his arm was on fire.
Snape reached out a hand to grip the desk before missing it completly as his knees crashed to the floor. Gritting his teeth, he leaned against the wood paneling as the mark on his arm reached a steady boil.
Harry looked up from where he had been scrubbing condensed snail residue from third year cauldrons. Something Snape had set aside specifically with him in mind when making his weekly detention schedule.
The man let out a low moan, his eyes sliding shut as the skin on his arm slowly turned black and started bubbling.
Running over, Harry just managed to catch Snape's head from hitting the ground as he lost consciousness.
Pulling back Snape's fingers from the vice like grip on his left arm, Harry drew in a sharp breath. Swallowing hard, he pulled up what he could remember from numerous hospital wing visits and laid a hand over the Dark Mark, which by this time was so swollen the snake was indistinguishable from the skull, and shut his eyes.
Breathing deeply, he tried to clear his mind the way Snape was always going on about in occlumency lessons.
Slowly, slowly he gripped the thread that connected to his core and tugged, pulling a bead of light toward him and out through his hand as it rested on Snapes arm. He pulled in a shuddering breath as he carefully visualized the light pushing out through his fingertips.
"Please" He thought desperatly.
Then a soft voice in his mind whispered;
"What do you want little healer?"
"I want him to live."
"I will need a replacement."
"I have one."
Silence....then, "...very well, if you insist."
Harry opened his eyes and stared down at Snape's arm...Snape's MARK FREE arm, before he slowly moved his hand to his own sleeve. Stealing himself for what he already knew, Harry pulled it up.
There, against the pale skin of his forearm, as crisp as a painting on canvas, was a snake peering at him through the eye of a grinning skull.
"Shit, Snape's going to kill me."