part 1
The loud sound of wood splitting cracked across the quiet classroom, when then was followed by a sputtering hissing like opening a can of soft drink. Head turned in his direction like lightning, and he tried to duck his head and look away, but the evidence was already in splinters over his desk.
His third wand had just broken all over his potions table, the handle somewhat intact and tilting precariously off the edge. He winced when he saw Snape’s looming figure slowly turn in his direction from where he had been having a go at Potter again. Sharp black eyes focused in on him, and it was all he could do but shrink as far into himself as he could.
“Terran,” Snape’s voice was soft but dark as he swept forward. The dark blonde boy took a deep breath. “That is your second wand in this class alone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I cannot possibly begin to understand why your wands hate you so,” The professor approached the desk, picking the handle up from the table with long fingers. “But your little issue needs to be sorted.”
Celio Terran flinched terribly at the word issue, but no one spoke. Just watched in entertained silence as a Slytherin was berated by his head of house. It wasn’t every day this happened. Celio almost couldn’t blame them.
“Yes, sir.”
“One more time and I will be writing home to your parents,” He sneered. “And Merlin knows how they’ll react.”
Celio prayed for his life on Salazar Slytherin that Snape would just leave him alone. If his mother got that letter, he’d get three howlers in furious Italian that Terry Boot would certainly take the piss out of him for. Snape glared long and hard at him, waiting for his response.
“Yes, sir.” Celio said once more, voice meek. From the side of his eye he saw the Gryffindors on the other side of the walkway grinning and mouthing words at each other and he just felt all the fight rush out of his body with an exhale.
Snape said a quiet ‘Good,’ and then waved his wand over Celio’s awful potion, erasing it. “You will receive a zero. If you do not have a new wand before the next lesson, you will be receiving a week of detention. Am. I. Clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Celio dropped his head. Immediately the Gryffindors burst into excited whispers and the soft sound of bells swept through the room signalling lunch.
“Terran,” A voice came from his left and he glanced at Blaise Zabini. “Again? How do you keep getting wands that clearly can’t handle you?”
He gave an awkward smile, scratching at his neck. “Dunno. Wands pick me wrong, probably.”
Zabini gave a light laugh and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I have an aunt that makes wands custom for the user. She’s expensive, but maybe that’s your next option.”
“Oh. Uh, yeah, maybe. Thanks, though.” Celio smiled gratefully before gathering his books and sweeping his broken wand pieces into his bag.
“Blaise. Let’s go.” Draco said from next to the taller male. Zabini gave a short wave to Celio before following the scowling boy from the room. With an anxious glance at Snape’s watchful eyes, he left the classroom quickly too.
Somehow he ended up behind Harry Potter and his two friends that he didn’t really remember the names of as he walked to lunch, intent on picking up a chicken salad sandwich and heading straight off to the second floor of the Astronomy tower to work on his Magical Arts OWL, but they were speaking loud enough for him to hear them.
Potter seemed to have something against him for having green accented robes, so naturally Celio was on the defensive around him. His redheaded friend, who was definitely a Weasley now that he thought about it, just stared him down a lot. It was weird, to say the least. They were only a few weeks into the new term, too.
So Celio trailed behind them as they walked painfully slowly.
“What on earth will we do for Defence Against the Dark Arts with that awful toad around?” The girl was huffing, bushy hair barely moving as she shook her head. “She won’t teach us spells or about the creatures we need to know about for our OWLS - We just read from the book!”
“She’s foul,” Weasley grumped. “Worse than Snape, nearly. Did you see her eyes on Harry when he leapt up to have a go at her?”
“I didn’t have a go,” Potter snapped, swinging his bag over his shoulder properly. “Just told her the truth. Or do you two not believe me either?”
“Harry, you know we believe you.” She said, exasperated. “You have got to understand what it looked like last year when you came back with Cedric’s body and everyone was just supposed to take Dumbledore’s word as truth-”
“Because it is true!” Potter exclaimed. He was getting angrier by the second. “Everyone is just clinging onto a false hope that’s not there!”
Celio’s stomach went cold.
The girl went quiet and glanced around, finally seeing the boy behind them. Her gaze on him caused the other two to turn as well, and Celio schooled his face into what he hoped was blank instead of the gut-dropping horror that had just gripped him.
“Oh, finally. Can I get past, then? You’re really… uh… slow.” Celio brushed a stray curl away from his face. The three of them glared.
“Shove off.” Weasley bit out. Celio very nearly sighed.
“What do you want me to say? I can ask nicely. I know my manners.” He clasped his hands together. “Please may I get past you, oh holy ones that need an entire length of a hallway to walk side by side?”
The girl seemed to realise he actually wasn’t there to have a go at them and pulled the two to the side but didn’t apologise. With a relieved ‘Thank you,’ Celio was past them and on his merry way to get the best sandwich of all time.
“Who’s that again?” Harry asked once he was out of earshot.
“Celio Terran. He’s in our Potions, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration classes.” Hermione supplied immediately. “I think he’s one of the only alright Slytherins.”
“No Slytherin is ‘alright,’” Ron said immediately with Harry’s agreeing nod. “Did you not just notice his tone when he was talking?”
“We were taking up the entire walkway.” Hermione rolled her eyes.
“So? He called us ‘oh holy ones’, sarcasm written all over him.” Ron huffed.
“Almost like the sound of that, especially if it's what Slytherin thinks of us.” Harry said as his eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t he the one who’s killed his wand twice?”
“Three times. Once at dinner last year he tried to spell a plate towards himself and his wand cracked clean down the middle.”
“Wacko.” Ron huffed, pushing forward making the other two follow.