That night, Harry was given detention for talking back to Umbridge again in class that day.
He staggered out of Umbridge's office and into the Tower's dim corridor, every step down the spiral staircase feeling heavier than the last.
The wounds Umbridge's quill had left on the back of his hand were still oozing blood, staining a corner of the wool scarf wrapped tightly around it dark red. He had long since used up the potion Jerry had given him. Harry thought he would have to ask Jerry whether he had any more when he saw him tomorrow.
As he entered the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry had expected silence and empty seats. Instead, Hermione and Jerry were sitting there, apparently waiting for his return.
"Jerry, what are you doing here?" Harry asked in surprise. When his gaze landed on Hermione, he hurriedly hid his injured hand behind his back.
"Hermione brought me in," Jerry said with an easy shrug. "The Fat Lady was in a particularly good mood tonight. She didn't ask many questions."
"Don't bother hiding it. I've already seen it!" Hermione turned to Jerry, her eyes slightly red and her voice thick with tears. "I knew Umbridge's detentions weren't that simple. Is this what you meant by just 'writing lines'?"
"Jerry, you always hide the bad things from me!" Hermione's reproach was tinged with concern.
"Actually, it's not all Jerry's fault. It's Umbridge's! She forbade us from telling anyone what happens in detention!" Harry hastily came to Jerry's defense.
"Let's treat Harry's wounds first." As he spoke, Jerry held out a fresh bottle of potion to Harry.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath as the cold potion touched his wounds. Then, as though gentle moonlight had caressed the ugly, bloody marks, the pain eased at once.
"Come on,