A Trio of Serpents

42: To Tell or Not to Tell

Hey, guys. Guys. Guys (and gals and non-binary pals). See the cover? @khabootea made it. Isn't it pretty?

Summary: Harry decides to do something about his hand

Should I go? Harry wondered yet again, casting a glance to the doors of the Great Hall, in which Snape had just exited. The murtlap helped tremendously, but his hand still ached if he left it alone for too long.

As if sensing Harry's inner turmoil, Ron raised his head. "You should go. I have a good feeling about it."

Harry stared into his clear gaze and made his decision.

Snape had disappeared by now, but Harry knew by now that he spent most of his Saturday mornings in his office. He went there now and knocked.

"Enter."

Harry hesitated, suddenly overcome with anxiety and guilt. He hadn't told Remus and Sirius, yet here he was, about to speak with Snape. Was that a bad thing?

He jumped as the door opened. Snape stood in front of him. "Can I help you?"

"Um... maybe?" This was harder than he thought.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Snape seemed to soften ever so slightly. "Get in," he said, and this time, Harry obeyed immediately.

"It's about the detentions I had with Umbridge," he began. He paused.

"Potter?" Snape prompted. The concern in his voice, however small, made Harry straighten up and remove the bandage from his right hand.

Snape stared at the half-healed cuts for a few seconds in disbelief. "What did she do?"

"Had me write lines with a quill that did... this." Harry set the bandage back over the wound. "Sid wrapped it up."

"Have you told your guardians?" When Harry didn't answer, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yet you came to me."

"Yeah, I did," Harry muttered shortly. He wished Snape would stop staring at him like he had grown an extra leg.

After a moment of silence, Snape spoke again. "Do you have any more murtlap?"

"No."

"Accio." A jar holding something yellow came sailing through the air and into Snape's hand. "Go back to your friends, Potter. And take the murtlap. You'll need it."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, picking up the jar.

"You assume I'm going to do something?" But there was a gleam in Snape's eyes that belied his words.

Amusement bubbled up inside Harry. "My bad, Professor."

He left in higher spirit than he had all week.

"So?" Ron prompted as Harry sat down next to him. "Is that more murtlap?"

"Yeah. Snape gave it to me." Harry removed part of the bandage again and dabbed a little bit of the paste on the scabs, sighing at the relief.

"And is he going to keep silent about this?" Hermione asked tartly as he replaced the lid.

"He didn't say he was," Harry replied, and her expression lifted.

"See, Ron? Your Seer abilities can't be all that bad."

"I guess." But Ron looked quite pleased with himself. "By the way, Montague's holding a Quidditch practice at nine tomorrow morning. Want to come?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Hermione said. "You've still got homework to do."

"I'll be fine." Harry pulled out some parchment. "With any luck, I'll finish before then."