The spell I mention in the first paragraph literally translates to latin as 'Rid me of this bruise'. I made it up myself, so please don't hate it :)


Dear Harry,

The only advice I can give you about your little problem is to keep your head down, don't retaliate and try your hardest with what you're given. Also, if you try the spell Huius relegationis me conterat your bruise should go. Just look in a mirror at yourself, give your wand a sharp flick and say the spell and it will fade away instantly.

I'm glad you're okay, Harry. Yes, I recall that fifth year is a difficult one. If you can't study and complete homework because of the detentions you could do it during lunch hour, breakfast or use the muggle alarm clock I gave you to wake up early and do it in the morning. Whatever you do don't do it when you're sluggishly tired as you could get a P or even a D, which you don't want. You could also ask the professors if you could have a day or two extension on your work. I did, in my fifth and seventh years, as did your father, Snuffles, Pettigrew and many other pupils. Professors were usually happy to help, so long as we turned in good quality work that gained at least an E when graded to OWL or NEWT standard.

Good luck with your studying and I hope you are happy,

Remus


Harry stared at the quill in front of him.

"Why won't I need ink?" he challenged.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough dear."

Harry cautiously picked it up and began to write. After he had written his first line, he felt an awful, fierce pain on the back of his hand. He glanced at it, and saw the words in the back of his hands. He blinked, and there was just a red, smooth patch. What's wrong with the quill? He thought. He wrote a few more lines, and gradually realised: I'm writing in my own blood.


Remus was quietly writing in his own bedroom at his cottage when he heard a rustling in his fire. He glanced down, and saw the familiar face of Minerva McGonagall.

"Minerva?"

"Remus, come quickly. There's been a bad...Harry's been assaulted. He's close to a state of coma. You have to come!"

Remus frantically leaped up, threw a little bit of floo powder into the fire and pushed himself through, burning his hand as he went and swallowing a handful of ash. He was in the hospital wing. He was a crowd of people gathered around his bed. Rushing over, he saw the pale figure of Harry in the bed. Madam Pomphrey was frantically muttering spells, while her young nurse assistant was pouring potions down his throat and injecting him with various things.

"What's wrong with Harry? What happened?" McGonagall turned to him, pale and shaking and spoke in a voice full of fear and suppressed anger.

"Dolores Umbridge. She made Harry use a blood quill from six o' clock until past one in the morning. He collapsed in a corridor on the way back to the common room. I found him there, bleeding to death. He...he's got good chances."

Remus just broke down inside, but he knew he had to remain strong.


Harry was in a haze. He saw blurry blobs, smelt blood, tasted something that tasted like potions class smelt, felt crisp sheets and fresh clothes, heard muffled voices.

"Where am I?" he asked. He heard his voice, it seemed to be faint. A great cheer was heard, and much laughter. Someone grabbed his hand, and something thick and gloopy and foul tasting was poured into his mouth. Everything came into sharper focus, and he saw he was surrounded by people: Remus, McGonagall, Pomphrey, Snape, the young assistant nurse, a seventh year he knew from Fred and George was desperate to become a healer and was having lessons and advice sessions from Pomphrey, Tonks, and curled up on his feet? A shaggy black dog!

"Thank Merlin you're okay!" Remus grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently – the hand not swathed in bandages, of course.

"Wotcher, Harry." Tonks grinned at him. He gave a weak smile.

The dog sat up and rubbed his head against his leg. Harry went to pick up his bandaged hand and stroke 'Snuffles', but it felt oddly heavy and he couldn't lift it. Instead, he withdrew his hand from Remus's and stroked the dog.

"How very...touching." Snape sarcastically commented.

Harry groaned, his head still foggy. Hey, anything I say I can blame on me feeling so bad, Harry thought.

"Shut up, slime sack." he moaned, closing his eyes.

"What did you just say?" Snape whispered in a deadly voice.

"Mnuaaaagh."

Remus gave a small snort of laughter which he hastily disguised as a cough, and Snuffles gave a soft bark. Tonks didn't hide her laughter. Harry could almost feel the anger in Snape's glare which he was surely bestowing upon Tonks.

"Sorry, Professor." Tonks giggled.

"Harry, how do you feel?" Madam Pomphrey gently asked.

"My hand feels like it's going to drop off, I'm knackered, I feel really drowsy and faint and my chest hurts, but I'm fine." Harry knew he was going on a little, but he didn't care. He once more opened his eyes and looked around.

"Yes, I thought you'd feel like that. Would you like something to eat and drink?"

"Yes please, Madam Pomphrey."

Harry glanced at Snape: he had a small table in front of him on which a safe-fire was sat on, which a cauldron sat on top of that. Glass bottles sat on one edge on the table and various ingredients and herbs were on the other side. The dog snuffled up to Harry and gave his face a long lick.

"Ew, gross Padfoot!"


Half an hour later, as it was very early in the morning, everyone left except for Remus and Sirius. Madam Pomphrey locked up the hospital wing and drew the curtains so that only a few sparsely placed candles lit the place. Madam Pomphrey whispered to Snuffles,

"I'll warn you if anyone comes near, I have good guards up."

He gave a low sniff, then transformed back into Sirius. Once Madam Pomphrey had gone, both men fell onto Harry. The three male genus hugged for a good while before Remus and Sirius sat either side of Harry.

"You nearly died, Harry. God, when Snape arrived to let me know...Harry, why did you let Umbridge use that blood quill on you?" Sirius was stuttering.

"I couldn't exactly stop her, I was in detention!"

"Mr. Filch once tried to chain me and your dad to the ceiling when we were in detention and we stopped him." Remus smiled.

"Why were you in detention?" Harry gaped.

"Remus wasn't such a good boy back then you know, Harry." Sirius laughed. Remus blushed slightly, and replied,

"Sirius was in the hospital wing growing back seven bones and letting two broken legs heal (and he wasn't even on the Quidditch team at this point, he'd just tripped over and smashed himself up on the way to Hagrid's hut), and Pettigrew was oblivious to what we were doing. I distracted Professor McGonagall while James dumped a sack of dungbombs on her desk. Not the most meticulous of pranks, but we were only firsties then. Yes, we both got a week of detentions with Filch. He tried to chain us up, but James told him that if he dared to chain us up he'd tell Professor Dumbledore. So instead we ended up scrubbing his office, a dismal task."

Harry gave a sharp yawn. "I'll change back to a dog and kip on one of the beds." Sirius volunteered.

"I'm sure Poppy will allow me to stay here as well. You know you're still very at risk Harry. You lost a lot of blood and vomited up pretty much your entire stomach. If you don't have those potions you're having you could still slip into a coma. You lost a lot of blood therefore a lot of minerals, your stomach is completely dead from vomiting up half of your stomach lining along with the acid and your hand is very tender."

Harry was already asleep.


Harry was in a deep, deep sleep. But suddenly, this was disturbed by a sharp slap to his face, followed by another and another. He blinked clumsily and opened his eyes. In front of him in the dark room (Harry supposed he had slept right through the night following his detention, the next day and was now in the night) was a toad like face.

"You naughty, naughty little boy, Mister Potter."

"Wha...?"

"Pretending to have used a blood quill in my detention, not wrapping up your hand. Dear, you've been very naughty indeed."

Harry glared at her with extreme hatred, and she gave a simpering smile back.

"Professor Umbridge?" Madam Pomphrey's soft voice came.

"Oh, hello Madam Pomphrey, dear!" Umbridge's voice was once again soft and girly.

"I'd advise you to leave Potter alone, Professor Umbridge. He is healing from, eh, suspicious happenings. He nearly died!"

Umbridge gave a derisive snort, but slowly started to trot away.