Harry stared mindlessly at the paper in front of him. The all nighter he had pulled last night had worked and he had scrambled enough to pass his potions test, but the head ache which was now tormenting him made him impossible to focus. The neat handwriting on the parchment was nothing more than a jumble now and it did not help that his Potion's professor was fixing him with his famous glare, probably wondering why he had not even touched his quill.
Harry steeled his throbbing mind and clutched the quill. He should have been more gentle because now his hand hurt too, the sentence carved into his hand opened due to the movement. Beads of blood began to rewrite the scar on his hand. He winced in pain but, nonetheless, picked up the quill and began to write. His speed was slower than usual and handwriting was barely comprehensive but he continued to scribble his way through the answers. Soon, he became so engrossed in the test that his usually sharp senses did not even notice the towering figure which glared menacingly at his answer script.
"Students please ensure that your handwriting is comprehensible and not insects crawling over the paper like Mr. Potter's script here." Severus drawled, holding up Harry's script for the class to see. Harry gasped at the sudden absence of writing material and looked up to see his parchment in the hands of his most hated professor. He gifted his teeth and tried snatching his script back only to receive sniggers from the Slytherins and Draco.
"This is disrespectful to me, Potter! Detention for an hour! 6 pm after supper!"
"But I have detention with professor Umbridge then!" Harry protested. "Fine, from 7pm then!" Severus turned and began walking towards his desk.
"Snarky old bat!" Harry mumbled under his breath. "I heard that. Make that two hours of detention!" Snape bellowed. Harry tried protesting but his head hurt too much so he went back to painfully scribbling his answers, trying in vain to finish his test.
Harry collapsed on the couch in the common room after an exhausting day with some bread in his stomach after supper. "Don't you have detention with Umbridge, Harry?" Hermoine questioned. "And then with Snape for two hours." Ron sighed, feeling sorry for his friend.
Harry groaned, getting up from the couch and swaying unsteadily on his legs for a few moments began to make his way out of the common room.
"Are you quite alright, mate?" Ron asked. "Yes, Harry. You also did not eat much at supper. And what about that wound on your hand?" Hermoine called out.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Harry replied half heartedly and quickly exited the common room.
"I must not tell lies." Harry scribbled again. Again the sentence etched itself on his hand and the already deep wound bled on to the table.
It was swollen now and an uncanny shade of yellow at the ridges and Harry was pretty sure that was not normal at all. He was hunched on the pink stool in Umbridge's office, with her brooding delightfully at his pain.
His posture was not helping him either. It was stretching the muscles on his back and he hoped it had not reopened any old belt marks which uncle Vernon had so graciously provided him with. It had been four months since his last visit to the Dursley's household but the bruises still hurt.
Suddenly, his vision blurred, presumably from the blood loss and he stopped for a few seconds to prevent himself from falling from his seat. "What happened Mr. Potter? You still have a hundred and eight more lines to go!" Umbridge exclaimed gleefully. Harry swallowed his anger and continued.
Harry made his way hastily towards the dungeons. It was exactly 7pm right then but it would take some time to reach his next site of torture. He reached the dungeons door panting after a long run here. He steadied himself leaning against the cold wall for support before he knocked on the door.
"Come in!" a voice drawled and Harry entered the room. "One minute late, Potter." Severus snapped, glancing at the clock. "Sorry, sir." Harry murmured, feeling his head ache return. To make things worse he also felt hot suddenly and he feared he might have a fever. Nonetheless, he looked up at his Potions profesor's pale face and steeled himself for whatever was to come.