In Plain View
Harry's fifth year was not going well at all. First it had started with the Dementors that had been sent after him. It definitely had not escaped his notice that Dementors had just happened to be in a muggle suburb, one that he happened to live at. He didn't need for them to point it out in the courtroom.
He didn't even want to think of if Dumbledore had never shown up. He had gotten him at least off the expulsion that the Minister wanted. So, for now, he was still attending Hogwarts. But he could feel the rage within him as the talking went on. Dumbledore knew… he knew the entire time. Arabella Figg had babysat him for years since the Dursleys would never let him stay by himself in their house. There was too much of a chance that he may actually have fun.
There was a stream of betrayal that ran through him. He did not have any doubt that she told everything to Dumbledore. Every little thing. He wouldn't have known anything about this if not for those Dementors. He wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or not. He could still feel the anger from it. He had believed for years that Dumbledore just didn't know, when he had known all along. Despite that he had begged every year to not go back. But every year his pleas had gone ignored.
And now he had to deal with Umbridge on top of everything. This was the year that he had to take his OWLs. So, the fact that she refused to allow them to learn any defensive or offensive spells. Didn't she realize that he had a practical that he needed to pass. Why did he have to have such horrible professors? The only ones that really taught them anything was Professor Lupin and Professor Moody. Though, technically that wasn't Moody, but that didn't change he actually knew what he was talking about.
He could already feel his hand throbbing from that damn quill. He lost track of how many times his hand started bleeding. He had never hated someone so much in his life, unless you were the Dursleys. He didn't even hate Voldemort as much as he hated Umbridge. And Voldemort was responsible for murdering his parents.
He didn't want to admit that maybe the Slytherins had been right. He had heard so many comments about Dumbledore over the years. But he had never believed them, that Dumbledore didn't deserve all those insults. But now he was starting to see their side and he didn't know if that was a good thing. He had never expected to see the day that he would agree with a Slytherin. Any Slytherin really. And he didn't want to admit to anyone that they may have been right, and he had been so naive.
So, maybe it wasn't so surprising that he would wander out to the grounds and find a spot for himself. He didn't want to be around his friends. Hermione would always lecture at him and tell him off for something he did. First, it had been about not saying anything to Umbridge. And now that he finally did, it was about to not to antagonize her. And then it was about Defense and everyone needed to learn about spells, which Umbridge wasn't doing.
Harry finally got tired of it and it got to the point of him avoiding her. He just wanted to be by himself. It was getting too much to handle it all and that wasn't even including the nightmares.
Harry trailed his fingers down the Snowy Owl's feathers beside him. Assuming it was Hedwig since he was the only one that owned a Snowy Owl that he knew of. Though he didn't notice that the owl didn't have her golden eyes, but blue ones.
"I thought last year was bad… even with the entire school against me. I would have preferred that to this year. Anything over having a professor that doesn't teach that likes to torture the students."
The owl beside him gave a low hoot before ruffling their feathers.
Harry had a sad smile though had to jerk his hand back. He had felt his hand slightly spasm, the same hand that he used that cursed quill. He gently massaged it.
"Sorry," Harry muttered. He let his hand gently ease down and soothed their feathers.
"Sometimes I really hate Umbridge…" he glared down at the words on his hand.
His frown turned into a small smile when he felt a slight nibble on his finger in affection. It was nice to know that someone was listening to him, even if it was just Hedwig. At least he knew that she would never judge him. He had never met a more intelligent creature.
"It's already bad enough with the nightmares… I thought it was horrible to have to deal with seeing my parents' death. But Cedric… he didn't need to die all because he was there. He had a life ahead of him and now he's dead because of me…"
That was when the owl went from beside Harry to flying slightly and landing on Harry's shoulder.
Harry froze slightly, believing that Hedwig was going to fly off. He could express on how glad and relived he felt that she stayed. As much as he didn't want someone to be around him, he still wanted someone there. Someone to listen to him rant, that maybe some things weren't as bad as it was. He had Hedwig since he was eleven years old and he couldn't ask for a better birthday gift. But at least he knew he could rant to her and she would never judge him. Not like everyone in this damn school or his relatives.
He could feel Hedwig nipping at his hair and hummed.
"Least I know you won't lecture me like Hermione will. First its usually something about not putting enough effort into my work. Then its where I should correct on Umbridge and tell her that she's wrong. But when I do, it's about that I need to ignore her and go to Dumbledore. Last thing I'm going to do is go to him… not after everything," Harry growled.
"Higgs," Harry snarled, Hedwig was on his shoulder.
Terence rolled his eyes, "I'm not here to curse you, Potter. I have better things to do than waste my time on that. So, lower your damn wand, unless you think I'm going to take your owl. Which is definitely not going to happen."
Harry frowned as his wand faltered. Though he didn't miss the rub about Hedwig.
"Since when has a Slytherin not wanted to curse a Gryffindor?"
"Then you know all the wrong Slytherins," Terence crossed his arms.
"And what… you're one of the decent Slytherins?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"Is that so hard to believe?" Terence smirked.
"Given that Slytherins tend to give me hell this year, yeah it is," Harry retorted.
His fingers strayed to brush Hedwig's feathers, as she was glaring at Terence. Though he yelped when she bit him harder than usual. It was usually a playful nip, but this one actually hurt. But he didn't know what he did to make her mad at him.
"Not all of us believe that hag of a toad."
Harry snorted, "and you would actually believe that Voldemort's back? Please…"
"And if I did…" Terence commented.
Harry's jaw dropped but couldn't help but ask, "why?"
"You're not the type of person that would cause panic. If you say he's back, then he's back. Even last year, you weren't the type of person to lie, not even about the tournament."
"And you actually believed me?" Harry was stunned.
"Wasn't hard to. Even an accomplished wizard would have difficulty bewitching the Goblet of Fire. You would have to have a mastery in runes to even begin to understand how it works. No student here would have that knowledge," Terence shrugged.
"Then why the thing with the badges?" Harry wanted to know.
"You can blame Malfoy for that one. Since he has this childish vendetta against you. There were a lot of Slytherins that were on your side, but they would never tell you. Because technically they are supposed to hate Gryffindors."
"But you don't…"
Terence nodded, "I only dislike the Gryffindors that try to curse me when I haven't done anything but be a Slytherin. Or the ones that like to disrupt when I'm studying."
Harry had to admit that Terence did have a point. Though he had originally thought that Slytherins tended to attack first. Maybe Gryffindors did also have some fault in this too. But it was known that Gryffindors and Slytherins don't get along.
"Why talk to me? Why not still pretend that you probably hate me and Gryffindors?" Harry asked.
Terence's eyes narrowed in anger, though not directed at Harry.
"Because of your bloody hand. If I had known she was using a Blood Quill, I would have intervened myself. To hell what the Ministry thinks. But you're going to wind up losing it if you don't get it treated, providing it's not already infected!"
"You were spying on me!" Harry accused.
"I wouldn't call it spying, more of trying to help a Gryffindor that looked lost and was in need of help," Terence corrected calmly.
"And you couldn't just walk up to me and ask about it?"
"Would you have admitted anything to me?" Terence shot back.
Harry blushed, he doubted that he would have.
"Exactly, but it looked like that you needed to rant. Are you really mad that I tried to comfort you when you needed it?"
Harry sighed, "I guess not…"
"You're still getting your hand treated," Terence pointed out.
Harry groaned at that, "but why a Snowy Owl?"
Terence raised an eyebrow, "I'm sure even you know that you can't pick your animagus form."
Harry bit his lip before nodding, "I think that is why Hedwig is mad at me…"
Terence laughed, "probably thinks I'm taking all the attention away from her."
Harry gave a wry grin at that; Terence probably was right about that one. That didn't mean he was going to tell him that though.
"Maybe I like the attention," Harry grinned at him.
That actually got a grin out of Terence, "I thought you hated the attention."
"And yet not once have you made mention of my so-called fame," Harry pointed out.
Terence shrugged, "it's not hard to see that you hate it. And why credit you for something you never did."
"Never did?" Harry asked.
"Do you really expect me to believe that a baby was able to do something that no wizard or witch could have done? If anything, Lily or James Potter did something. She was known for her runes for a reason," Terence replied.
Harry's eyes widened; he had never known that. But it wasn't like anyone would actually tell him stuff about his parents.
"But you are still getting that hand looked at."
Harry sighed and decided to follow Terence. The Slytherin would wind up dragging him if he didn't. He may not know Terence personally, but he was a Slytherin for a reason. If not that, he definitely would petrify him.
"You're not taking me to Snape!" Harry hissed when he saw where they were going.
"Do you really think that he's the only one good at Potions?" Terence crossed his arms.
Harry's cheeks flushed; he hadn't thought about that.
"Now shut up and let me see your hand," Terence demanded.
Harry was not about to admit that Terence had actually helped. And he knew by the smirk on his face too. But he knew that he would be gloating about it if he hinted anything.
The Slytherin had first grabbed at his wrist and studied his hand. He didn't need to look in his eyes to see the rage there. The feeling on his hand told him enough. But the grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, which he was thankful for.
A Slytherin worried about him? It didn't make any sense. But yet the truth was right in front of him.
But Terence had studied the words on his hand, fingers barely brushing over the deep cuts.
Harry would have flinched back if he could, but Terence had a firm grip. Though he didn't do it again. He did notice he was muttering under his breath.
A diagnostic spell?
Then he started on a cauldron and wasn't even looking at any book. What was he even brewing? So, Harry took a seat in a nearby chair and fiddled with his thumbs. He didn't dare to meet Terence in the eyes, but he had never seen someone so focused. It was a bit thrilling to watch. That was when he began to notice more about him. He was very lithe, probably from playing Quidditch. His dark hair had to ever so often be brushed out of his eyes. It was wavy and curled around his face. His robes were well fitted to him and could actually get an idea of how much muscle he had. It brought a blush to his face.
What was wrong with him? He had recalled liking Cho, but she hadn't even crossed his mind.
Harry bit his lip; he couldn't like Terence… could he? Yet here he was looking at him, even ogling at him. It was all so confusing. He didn't even know the Slytherin…
"If you're done staring, I need your hand," Terence's voice cut into Harry's thoughts.
Harry's face went red, but he outstretched his injured hand to him.
The touch was warm and then something cold hit his hand. He would have jerked away but the pain on his hand was starting to fade.
"What is that?"
"A paste, it's something I created. Nobody has ever used a Blood Quill as a torture device. Not until this year. Most may dip their hand in Essence of Dittany and it will help relieve the pain. But it never fully takes it away. It will relieve most of the scarring and the extensive damage it caused," Terence explained.
"Damage?" Harry asked.
Terence sighed, "your hand is severely damaged. I am surprised that you have any nerves left. Any more use, I doubt you would be able to hold a quill again. You'll need months of applying the paste if you have any wish to use your hand again. Using Essence of Dittany wouldn't help you at this point. Not even Murlap will help, not anymore."
Harry's face went deadly pale and pressed his hand to his chest. He never had realized it was quite that bad. He could feel nothing but rage for Umbridge.
"Months?" his voice croaked.
Terence looked solemn before nodding, "I would limit your use of your hand if you can. Maybe if you can learn to write with the other would certainly help. Just holding a quill with the amount of nerve damage is making it worse."
It was probably good that Harry had been sitting, since he would have fallen from this revelation. He never felt so thankful that Terence was the one helping him.
"I know it probably don't mean much, but thank you," Harry whispered.
Terence was slightly taken back at the words, not expecting them. Perhaps there was more to Harry Potter than he had realized. He hadn't even expected him to thank him. Of course, he knew that he didn't need to do this. But there was this protective urge that wanted to help. Ever since he saw that accursed hand. He knew it was from the Blood Quill but hadn't expected the damage to be as severe as it was. Usually dipping it in Murlap would be fine. So, that meant that Harry was kept in detention with her on a daily basis and for hours.
Though he chanced something he normally wouldn't have done. He curled his fingers in Harry's hair before placing a peck on his cheek. He left before he could see Harry raising a hand to his cheek, a smile on his face.
