Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
I feel like you can see the influence being in exam leave has had on my writing - i.e. I'm projecting my lack of revision onto Terry being great at revision
"Alright," Terry slammed the book into the desk, frustrated, "that's enough for today."
Harry yawned, before nodding and getting up to return most of the books to the shelves. "Any useful ones?" He asked.
"Just this one." Terry added the book to the small pile Harry had made. They'd been in the library since lunch time trying to find useful spells and jinxes that Harry would be able to use if he was forced to compete in one of the final two tasks. "I was trying to work out what you would have done for the first task - if we'd prepared." He gave Harry a pointed look, who in turn rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I think Krum's idea was probably the most simple - the conjunctivitis curse - so maybe you'd have done that, but then I read something in here," he pointed to one of the book's he was filing away, "and it said that dragons were relatives of snakes."
"Parselmouth." Harry replied and Terry nodded. "Ok... I still don't get why that's important though."
Terry shrugged. "We have no idea what the next two tasks will be-"
"Except that they definitely won't be dragons." Harry interrupted.
Terry rolled his eyes. "When you revise for a test, how do you do it?" He asked as they walked over to Madam Pince's desk.
"Um, flashcards, study notes, past pape-"
"Exactly," Terry grinned, "past papers. The dragons are a past paper. It's good to have game plans for whatever the situation is. Besides, I read that in one of the earlier tournaments the final task was a cumulation of both of the previous tasks."
"Shit." Harry whispered so that Pince couldn't hear him swear, and Terry nodded gravely as the two walked towards Pince's desk.
"Thank you." Terry obliged his head in the librarian's direction as she signed their books out, the two leaving the library and the crowds of Krum fans who were permanently roaming around the shelves.
Harry glanced at his watch. "An hour 'til dinner."
"I want to shower - we both know if I wait until after dinner Mike's going to spend hours in there and I won't be able to." Terry commented causing Harry to laugh as they made their way through the Hogwarts corridors to the Ravenclaw common room.
With Christmas approaching rapidly the castle had been decked out with various decorations and charms. A corridor on the second floor had been spelled to snow constantly, whilst every single suit of armour in the entire school had been charmed to serenade the students with Christmas carols. There were icicles stuck to every banister (which was actually more annoying than festive in Harry's opinion) and huge Christmas trees in the hall.
The decorations were even more lavish than in previous years - the Hogwarts staff clearly trying to impress the foreign visitors - to the point where it looked as though Santa had thrown up on each of the trees, you could barely even see the green of the leaves.
Terry hit the knocker and a riddle drew itself on the door.
A woman shoots her husband. Then she holds him under water for five minutes. Finally, she hangs him. But five minutes later they both go out together and enjoy a wonderful dinner together. How can this be?
Harry exchanged a look with Terry. "Festive." He muttered sarcastically. "Shoots... photoshoot?" he asked Terry who nodded in agreement. "She took a photo of her husband then processed it in a dark room and then hung the photo." Harry replied, grinning as the door swung open.
"Nice." Terry muttered before sighing. "Hey, just hang back one sec, we need to talk... privately."
Harry glanced towards the common-room, "It's too busy now."
"Agreed. I'm just warning you that we do need to talk at some point - preferably today."
Harry's stomach bubbled nervously, his mind already rolling through all the possibilities of what they might need to talk about. "Ok." He nodded briefly and Terry offered him a small, oddly sympathetic smile.
"I'll see you in a bit." Terry walked off towards the dorms - and the showers.
Harry made his way over to Michael and Anthony who'd managed to get a couple of armchairs and had pulled out a chessboard.
"Look who it is," Michael grinned as Anthony mused over his move. "haven't seen you two since lunch. Off snogging in a broom closet again?" He asked and Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised you haven't asked him out to the ball yet..." Michael teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.
"I already have a date." Harry replied with a smirk.
Michael scoffed. "Right. So, if you 'have a date'," he made finger-quotes in the air, "then who is the not-so-lucky girl?" he questioned sceptically.
"Daphne." Harry grinned as Mike's jaw dropped. Daphne Greengrass was the most sought-after girl in their year by a country mile - Harry had even seen an attractive sixth year snake ask her out the day before. They were just going as friends, but Harry was really looking forward to it - something he definitely wouldn't have been saying a week ago.
"Your go." Anthony reminded Michael, who, still shaking his head in disbelief, turned his attention back to the chessboard.
"Who are you going with?" Harry asked Anthony.
"Hannah - from Hufflepuff." Anthony replied and Harry smiled. He'd suspected Anthony had a crush on the Hufflepuff since that Herbology class.
"And you Mike?"
"Well, I haven't asked anyone yet, but I was thinking about asking Ginny or Lisa maybe."
"You should probably get started on that." Harry urged him, knowing that she was likely to get asked sooner rather than later. Michael shrugged, moving his bishop.
"Check." He said triumphantly, but seconds later Anthony took his bishop, and on Anthony's next move he got Michael's queen as well, and the latter's shoulders slumped, deflated.
It wasn't until after dinner two days later that Terry followed through on his earlier warning, and honestly the past forty eight hours had been hell waiting for this conversation. It was like whenever Luke told him that 'they needed to talk' - even when Harry was 100% sure he hadn't done anything wrong, he still felt a pit of nerves growing in his stomach.
In this instance it was different. Harry knew he'd done something wrong. He'd kept his identity secret for four years, and only ever revealed it because Terry found out - and that only happened because he'd been entered (against his will) into a magically-binding tournament with more history books written on how many people died in the tournament than on how many people survived it.
Harry had, admittedly, delayed this talk for a long time. The night before he could have easily gone up to the dorms early where he knew Terry was doing homework, but instead he had surrounded himself with people - playing chess with Anthony, doing an extra study session with his Slytherin friends, practicing some quidditch drills with Mike (just because the season had been cancelled didn't mean they didn't need to stay in shape for next year) - knowing that Terry wouldn't be able to talk to him unless he was alone.
Until tonight that is, when Harry realised that the anxiety caused by delaying this conversation was growing into something far worse than what the conversation itself would entail. So Harry had excused himself from the common room early, and got started on a particularly gruelling Transfiguration essay. It was as Harry was writing the conclusion that Terry had walked in.
"Now?" Harry asked, recognising the look in Terry's eyes.
"Now." Terry affirmed, before taking in a deep breath. "You need to tell them."
Harry froze, flicking his eyes between Terry and the dormitory door, reassuring himself that it was shut. "No." He replied firmly, quickly casting a silencing charm on the door so no one could eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Harry, you need to tell them, not only can they help but they deserve to know."
"It's too dangerous." Harry said, gently putting away his quill to avoid getting yet another ink blot on his bed.
"I'm not suggesting you tell everyone, just Mike and Anthony. We can't keep sneaking off to the library, and doing secret projects in the dorms we share with them. They're getting too suspicious." Terry said, leaning against the side of his bed.
"I'd prefer them to be suspicious than to be dead." Harry retorted, angrily shuffling his parchment.
"You're over-exaggerating the threat," Terry accused, "I know, and I'm fine."
"For now. If You-Know Who is bac-"
"If." Terry interrupted firmly. "Besides, we'd all fight by your side either way." Terry said with a nonchalance which annoyed Harry. Does he not realise what fighting in a war means? It means death, losing your friends, losing your family - losing your parents. War isn't good, and it isn't something to be so casual about. They're fourteen. Why the fuck should they be fighting in a war.
"I don't want to fight!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't want to fight, and I don't want you to fight. We're kids. We shouldn't be some pawns in a war, getting injured or worse. I'm not risking it."
"That's not your decision to make."
"It's for their safety."
"No it's not." Terry scoffed. "It's because you're scared. Scared that they'll reject you. Right?" Harry didn't even need to nod. His gaping silence told Terry all he needed to know. "Well, they won't - I didn't. They'll be angry sure, but they'll understand. You just need to tell them."
"Fine!" Harry conceded angrily. He knew it was inevitable that he had to tell them anyway, he just didn't want to. Terry was right, he was scared. Scared for them, for their safety - for their lives... but also scared to lose them, for them to reject him or not forgive him. "Just... not yet."
"Then when - it's already been four years." Terry hissed furiously and Harry flinched. He knew that Terry wasn't really okay with it, that there was still unspoken tension simmering under the surface of their friendship. That he'd lost Terry's full trust, and that Terry hadn't forgiven him.
"It's dangerous Terry!" Harry whipped round to face him. "Do you not realise that? My life is under constant threat, if the world knows who I am, I'm screwed - especially if those rumours are true. The more people I know, the more at risk I am. The more at risk I am, the more at risk you are - them included. Do you not realise that being friends with Harry Potter means openly declaring yourself as an enemy of You-Know-Who?"
Terry stopped still before collapsing down the side of his bed. Flickering across his face was the realisation of his new status; a black tag was on his body now. He was all but marked for death.
"They're going to find out at some point. It might as well come from you, you should at least give them the truth, time to prepare and make decisions for themselves. After four years of lying to us... you owe them at least that."
"Ok." Harry nodded reluctantly. "After the ball... They can at least have Christmas without this burden." Harry said, gesturing to himself.
"Fine." Terry accepted through gritted teeth. "Until Christmas."