Disclaimer: All things you recognize from the seven Harry Potter books belong to J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing for my own entertainment and do not earn anything, especially money, for writing these stories.

Here's chapter two! I hope it lives up to whoever is reading's expectations! If not, feel free to advise and criticize after you've read it.

Also, I realize I've updated in a week. But this most likely won't be a regular happening, as school keeps me extremely busy. There will be at least one update a month though, I promise. (At least for this story.)

And thank you to the three people who reviewed. All three of you empowered and inspired me – so much so I decided to post chapter two!

2020.12.4.

A Bloody Hand: Things Just Seem to Happen Together

Chapter 2

Harry was nervous, incredibly nervous. He couldn't believe this was happening! McGonagall looked extremely angry, and he was half afraid she would storm off to Umbridge right there and then and demand an explanation (she was smart, Harry knew that, and had probably figured out Umbridge was part of this) – and then Umbridge would do something to her. Harry didn't know what, but she would do something, he was sure, if she knew McGonagall had found out about his hand.

So he was highly relieved when McGonagall led them to her office instead of dragging him back to Umbridge's office. He wondered if he could somehow make up a story and get her to drop the subject and forget about her discovery.

McGonagall interrupted his thoughts. They had reached her office. She waved her right hand and the door opened quietly. "Sit, Potter," she ordered, taking out her wand and quickly starting a fire.

Harry sat on the chair he had sat on some weeks back after she had offered him a biscuit and watched his head of house cautiously. She was arranging the things on her desk, checking that the fire would not suddenly die down, and taking deep breaths. She still looked angry.

"Professor?" he tentatively said after a moment or two.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Explain, please, Potter," she said, sounding surprisingly calm.

"Explain what, Professor?" asked Harry, trying to sound innocent and glancing down at his swollen hand at the same time – he couldn't help himself.

McGonagall's nostrils flared. She had seen the action – and even if she hadn't, she would have known he was feigning innocence anyway. "Your hand! Why is the sentence 'I must not tell lies' on it?" she bombarded him with questions. "I can guess Professor Umbridge has something to do with this, but I don't know how, only have a guess. So – explain, Potter."

Harry swallowed nervously and looked down at his hands. "Well," he began, still unsure telling his head of house would be wise, "well – it's like this, ma'am, but please don't get angry and er – stay calm, okay? Please, Professor?" He looked up at her for confirmation and after seeing her nod once, he looked down again and continued, "I use a special quill to write lines with in detentions with Umbri – Professor Umbridge, and it doesn't need ink, because it uses blood, I think – well, in this case, my blood, because I was using it – and writing 'I must not tell lies.'" He paused. "At first the words appeared and then faded, but now it doesn't. That's all." He finished and looked up at her.

"She did what?" snapped Professor McGonagall, looking and sounding disbelieving.

"Gave me a special quill to write lines with, Professor," said Harry. "It's nothing though, Professor, I'm fine," he hastened to add.

Professor McGonagall looked furious. "This 'special quill,' Potter, is actually a blood quill, and it is a dark object," she informed him with forced calm.

"It is?" asked Harry in surprise. He hadn't known that.

"Yes, it is," confirmed Professor McGonagall, "and she needs to be kicked out of Hogwarts at once. She shouldn't be around students, she's dangerous." She stood up, a glare planted firmly on her face. "I think I will go now."

"But Professor," protested Harry at once, in great alarm, "you'll lose your job! Fudge is the Minister, and he's got power!"

"I won't lose my job, Potter," Professor McGonagall tried to reassure him, softening slightly when she saw the concern on Harry's face. "Fudge might not believe You-Know-Who is back and say you're crazy, but he doesn't like the Dark Arts, I can promise you that. And once others see your hand and we give Umbridge some tea laced with truth potion," she added, still standing, "he'll have no choice but to remove her."

"Oh," said Harry, slightly reassured. "Well, that's okay then, but maybe you should wait and tell Professor Dumbledore about this. He's the headmaster, after all, Professor," he suggested, even though he really didn't want Dumbledore to know, not after the man had ignored him for the past few months. But he guessed Dumbledore had more power than Professor McGonagall, and he definitely didn't want his head of house to lose her job, which she still might if she lost her temper and hurt Umbridge even though what Umbridge had done was far more serious, if Professor McGonagall was right, so it was for the best if Dumbledore knew and could make a plan – then Professor McGonagall would follow it and wouldn't go hex Umbridge.

She was considering his suggestion now. "Yes, I suppose he has to be informed," she said, and sat down again, much to Harry's relief. "But he is currently away, so I cannot tell him today. We will have to wait. When he is back, I shall tell him at once," she promised.

Harry nodded. "Okay, Professor," he said, "but there's something else you should know. I don't think it's just me; she must have given others detentions as well. Of course," he added, afraid he had insulted her, "you had probably figured that bit out yourself, Professor, I didn't mean to say you –"

But Professor McGonagall nodded and cut him off. "I understand, Potter, you didn't offend me at all," she reassured him. "I will tell the Headmaster other students may have been harmed as well," she said. "He will think of some way to find all of the students who suffered while doing detentions with her, I'm sure. Now," she briskly continued, "I'm going to get some sleep and you should too, Potter. Good night, you are dismissed." She stood up again and went to hold open the door for him.

Harry stood from the chair and walked to the door. "Thank you, Professor," he said, and gave her a quick smile, which she returned. "Good night to you too, Professor," he added.

Professor McGonagall nodded once and Harry walked out of her office and hurried back to the Gryffindor common room, feeling thankful when he didn't bump into anyone, not even the castle ghosts, finished his pile of homework – they were done badly, he knew, but he really couldn't be bothered about the fact that he might fail some of his assignments just now – and fell asleep, fully dressed, before his head had hit his pillow at four thirty in the morning.

XXX

Unknown to Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall had not gone to bed immediately after Harry had left. Instead, she had returned to her desk and heated up the fire in her office and sat at her desk, thinking about the conversation she had just had with Harry.

"Poor boy," she thought. "What would James and Lily think if they knew their son was doing this kind of detentions, I wonder?" She couldn't help it; a small chuckle escaped her lips. "James would come storming up to the castle and demand to see his son and curse Umbridge to pieces, I expect, maybe even worse." She thought of Lily's possible reaction to the news her son had been forced to use a blood quill by this woman. "She would probably come storming up to the castle as well," Minerva decided, "but she probably would do even worse to Umbridge."

Minerva sighed to herself. Harry would have had a happy and blissful life if James and Lily were alive, she knew. But with those Muggle relatives of his? She shook her head to herself. "Definitely not," she thought. "I saw them, they were horrible. And their son!" She gave a disgusted shudder when she remembered the way Harry's cousin, only some months over one then, had been spoiled by his parents. "But they would never spoil Harry that way," she thought. "They probably gave the cousin everything he asked for and more – and gave Harry nothing."

The Head of Gryffindor sighed to herself. "Oh well," she said to herself. "I suppose I had better go to bed – or else I won't be able to teach tomorrow."