Author's Note: Yes. You're right. This is another James comes back. But it's hopefully more unique. I hope you enjoy. No flames, and I'd prefer no reviews. They put pressure on me to update. Only if you truly want to. Otherwise, no reviews please. Umm, think I covered it all. Yeah, bye. Oh wait, I also changed some things. Well, a lot, but nothing that changes the true plot.
Until The Very End
Chapter One: Crucio
Harry laughed as Ron shied away from Hermione's glare. "Ronald!" she screeched. "You have to study!" Ron rolled his blue eyes. "Why must you insist on all the boring things in life?" he groaned. Harry doubled over in laughter as Hermione hit him with a book.
Harry was now fifteen years old, in the beginning of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He looked more like James, his father, than ever. His mop of dark brown hair fell into his bright emerald eyes constantly, and his facial features were identical to James'. Harry wasn't as tall as Ron, but was still lanky like his dad at the height of 5'7, and was still growing. His parents' deaths had always pained Harry more than anything else, and gaining their features hadn't helped at all.
"And you! You take my notes instead of making your own!" Harry jumped back as Hermione began to advance on him, her hazel eyes narrowing. Hermione was extraordinarily pretty, with sandy colored waves to almost her elbows, and copper eyes that seemed to pierce right through one's body. She was smaller than the boys, at 5'5, but had an unbelievable reign on the two troublemakers. The other occupants of the Gryffindor common room left, leaving the three teens alone
"Sorry, 'Mione. But you're so smart that I would only want your notes," Harry said, trying to soften his friend up. He gulped when he noticed that Hermione knew what he was doing. Uh oh. "Harry Pot-Harry," her stern voice turned into a sigh as she snatched his hand and held it gently. "You have to tell Professor Dumbledore, Harry."
Professor Dolores Umbridge had given Harry detention for saying that Voldemort was back, and illegally made him write, "I must not tell lies" with a Blood Quill. He'd been having detentions since the second week of school, and the scars bled constantly, a reminder that they would forever be inscribed on his hand.
Ron moved in now, nodding his head in agreement with Hermione. Harry yanked his hand away, a downcast expression falling over his face. "No. And you both swear on our lives that you won't tell anyone, and I mean anyone. I don't care if it's Sirius, Remus, or Neville! It doesn't matter! I have to go, I'm going to be late for detention," Harry said, his voice quieter. Hermione and Ron watched their best friend leave swiftly.
"He doesn't deserve any of this. If only the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders," Ron murmured. "That toad-faced woman who calls herself a professor isn't helping," Hermione hissed under her breath, her sight going red at the thought of Umbridge. "Those scars are never going to go away. He's going to be 30 years old, and having a great time with his kids and whatever, and then see those scars and become depressed again. It'll ruin him!" Ron added angrily. The two continued to make comments on the mistreatment of the one person they cared about most, not noticing the purple flashes in the night sky.
"Mr. Potter, please take a seat," the toad-like woman dressed in pink said sweetly. Harry slammed the door, shuffling to the desk he knew all too well. "You're hideous," Harry snarled at her. Umbridge's eyes widened. "Why, Mr. Potter, I believe you might need some extra discipline, and I-"
"No, shut up. You're a Ministry worker who is against anything that Fudge disapproves of. But although Fudge disapproves of Blood Quills, you continue to use them on students. What would Fudge say if he saw this? You'd surely lose your jo-"
"Mr. Potter! From now on, your detentions will be from 5-8 until I believe that you have learned your lesson. Now, begin your lines, dear," Umbridge huffed, fluffing her short hair and standing behind him. Harry put his pen to the paper, and began to trace the phrase that was carved into the back of his hand. "You know Voldemort is back," Harry challenged, not beginning the lines.
"Harry Potter! Make your detentions until 9 PM!" she cried.
"The MInistry is trying too hard to hide it!"
"10:00 PM, Mr. Potter! Now do your lines!"
"It's true though!"
"Crucio!"
Harry buckled to the ground in agony, writhing on the ground. Umbridge stood above him, smiling. "You see, young Mr. Potter, it's best to respect the Ministry and learn to keep false opinions to yourself, hmm?" she said, tilting her head to one side. Harry looked up at her with pain-stricken eyes.
"He's back, and you kno-"
"CRUCIO!"
The night was spent with Harry's torture, both with the Blood Quill and the curse. At 10:05, he limped back to the Gryffindor common room, his injuries weighing him down. He finally collapsed on the ground of the corridor, rolling to the side. Dumbledore…please…
Harry awoke in the Gryffindor boys' dorm, Ron sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning against the post, sleeping lightly. Harry sat up slowly, causing Ron to jolt awake. "Harry! What happened? I found you last night in the corridor, all injured. Well, you're still hurt, but Hermione managed to heal the broken leg. The broken arm…not so much. Did Toadface…hurt you?" Ron lowered his voice, so as not to wake the other Gryffindor boys. With a roll of his eyes at his own stupidity, Ron put up Silencing Charms around Harry's bed.
"She…she tortured me, Ron," Harry whispered brokenly. Ron growled. "That bitch! I'll kill her! Harry…how many times?" Ron asked his best friend softly. Harry looked up at the taller boy. "Twelve." The word sent Ron into a rage. "Blood hell, Harry! I was going to say that if you truly wanted, we could keep this a secret, but Harry, that bitch has got to pay! We'll tell Dumble-"
"No."
"What?"
"No. No Ron. Please no. Just tell me what's wrong with me," Harry pleaded. Ron stared before giving into a sigh. "From what Hermione could tell, you have two broken ribs, your blood quill scars, your broken arm, a large bruise on your waist, and a sprained ankle."
"Hell, Quidditch is tomorrow! Against Slytherin, oh hell, Ron, what are we going to do?!" Harry wailed now, knowing Sirius and Remus would be there to watch, as always. He couldn't let them see his injuries. They'd freak out, but 100 times worse than Ron had. Ron's eyes bulged as he got Harry's point. The two Marauders thought of Harry as their own son, and would both barge into Umbridge's office and do who-knows-what to her.
"Listen, mate. We'll get you to Pomfrey, but we'll just say you fell off the moving staircases. The quill scars can be hid with an Illusion charm, though those don't last too long," Ron mused, trying to help Harry in any way possible. Harry nodded and with much assistance from the tall ginger, Harry and Ron made their way to the Hospital Wing.