"I haven't got any ink." Harry said.
"Oh, you won't need ink."
Harry put his quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.
He let out a gasp of pain. The words on the parchment appeared to be shining red.
He glanced down at his hand and saw that the exact same words had been sliced into his hand.
Ha stared, horrified at it.
Harry looked round to Umbridge.
"Yes?" She asked softly.
"N-Nothing" He replied.
He turned his attention back to the paper and wrote it again. I must not tell lies.
Again, he had the words sliced into his hand.
I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies.
After what seemed like hours she called him to her.
"Hold out your hand." She ordered.
He held out his raw and bleeding hand.
Umbridge examined it. She smiled. "It looks like we haven't made much of an impression yet. You will come back here tomorrow evening. You may leave."
Harry turned and left the office.
He didn't have time to do any of the homework that had been assigned to them so he skipped breakfast to do it.
"what'd Umbridge make you do last night?" asked Ron as he returned from Breakfast.
Harry hesitated. "Lines." He said.
"Well, that's not too bad, eh?"
"Nope." Replied Harry.
Angelina Johnson came at him at dinner learning that he couldn't attend Fridays Quidditch tryouts.
"I'm in detention!" Harry yelled after her. "I'd rather be going to tryouts than stuck in that room with her!"
" At least it's only lines." Said Hermione digging into a stake.
Harry opened his mouth, then closed it and just nodded.
He had no idea why he was keeping what really happened in Umbridges office from them.
The second detention was as bad as the first, if not worse. Each time he wrote the line, the cuts in his hand became increasingly deeper.
He said nothing apart from "Good Night, or "Good evening".
His homework situation had become desperate. He just wrote answers Professor McGonagall had sent them, then put something together for Professor Grubbly-plank.
Once he was done, he threw himself on the covers of his bed and fell asleep instantly fully clothed.
Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. Harrys third detention passed as his first and second.
Harry wrote the message into his hand for two hours.
It dripped blood and splattered the piece of parchment.
Sensing the pause between the scratch of the quill, Umbridge looked up.
She smiled."That ought to prove enough of a reminder for tonight."
"Do I have to come back tomorrow?"asked Harry, guessing the answer.
"Oh yes." She grinned even wider."I believe we can etch the message in a little deeper than it is right now."
Harry picked up his school bag and left the office.
Harry was walking up to the Gryffindor tower when he ran into Ron.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. Ron appeared to have been hiding behind a statue.
Ron gave a great jump and attempted to hide his broomstick behind his back.
"Um, nothing. What are you doing here?"
"Come on Ron! You can tell me." Harry said.
"I'm hiding from Fred and George they're testing stuff on first years."
"Ok..." Said Harry slowly. "That still doesn't explain why your holding a new cleansweep seven.
"I- alright, I'll tell you but you have to promise not to laugh. I-I thought I'd try out for Gryffindors Keeper."
"That's great!" Exclaimed Harry.
Ron looked relieved at Harrys reaction.
"Harry? What's that on your hand?"
Harry had just rubbed the bridge of his nose with his right hand.
"Er- It's nothing. Just a cut." Harry hastily put his hand behind his back.
Ron snatched his arm and brought the back of his hand up to his face.
He let go of Harrys hand as he read what was sliced into them, looking revolted.
"Tell McGonagall." He whispered.
"No." Growled Harry. "I don't want to give Umbridge the satisfaction that she's getting to me."
"Harry! The women's torturing you!" Said Ron.
Harry shook his head angrily and climbed up to the Gryffindor common room.
The only thing that made Friday bearable was the thought that tomorrow was the weekend and it was his final detention with Umbridge.
He knocked on her office door at five o'clock that evening.
She answered, and had already prepared a piece of parchment and the horrible black quill.
She nodded at him and he sat down.
he positioned himself so that he was facing the Quidditch pitch.
He could see figures flying around for the tryouts.
He turned his attention back to the paper.
I must not tell lies.
The cut on his hand opened and bled.
I must not tell lies. It sliced deeper and stung.
I must not tell lies. Blood ran down his wrist.
He glanced up at the Quidditch pitch. Harry saw a person do exceptionally good, one horrible and another that was relatively passable.
It was getting dark and he doubted that he would be able to see the rest of the people.
His hand was shining red and the paper was splattered with blood.
Umbridge got up and walked around to him.
She nodded. "That seems good."
She took hold of his arm to examine it closer and pain seared, not on his hand but his scar.
He jumped up and pulled his hand out of her grip.
"Yes, it hurts doesn't it?" She asked.
Harry just stared at her.
"You may go Potter."
He left the office with haste.
He was in the common room where he met Hermione.
Hermione jumped up. "Ron told me about what Umbridge has been doing to you. Let me look..."
Harry allowed her to look at his blood soaked hand.
"Harry..." She trailed off. "Harry this is serious. You have to tell someone."
Harry brought his hand back and shook his head angrily.
"I'm NOT giving Umbridge that satisfaction." With that he went up to his dormitory leaving Hermione looking helpless.
I really hope You liked it! Definitely more to Come!