AN: I kind of had trouble writing this chapter, not sure if it's good, but hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Harry Potter or HP
Chapter 49: I Will Not Tell Lies
Harry looked at his reflection in the washroom mirror; he looked exhausted, his face was paler than usual, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Harry also had little appetite lately; he always felt too tired and drained to eat. On top of all his previous worries, he now had to worry over OWLs, when Harry had never worried over schoolwork before, this time was different; this time, the professors kept reminding them of the exams at the end of the year and gave them more challenging assignments and extra homework. Loki and Sirius had been the only ones not to bring it up during class, and Harry didn't know if it was his imagination or lack of sleep, but this year seemed to be going by slowly, and it felt like it took a month to get to the end of the first week.
Harry slipped his glasses on his face, thankful they hid most of the circles under his eyes, then turned from the mirror and walked out of the washroom into the dormitory, where his dorm mates were getting out of bed to get ready for the day. Harry slipped on his school robes, stuck his wand in his pocket, then sat on his bed and began to put on his socks and shoes.
"First up again, Harry?" Seamus asked as he pulled clothes out of his trunk. "Do you even go to sleep at night?"
"Yeah," Harry lied. Seamus didn't reply; he just headed into the washroom. And Harry slowly put on his socks. Ron, Hermione, his parents, and even Professor McGonagall have aasked Harry that same question. Harry also answered yes, and now avoided looking at Ron when he felt him watching him; Harry knew he'd see worry on his best friend's face. He didn't need to see that.
Ron entered the washroom, and Harry got up to put his books in his bag. Double Potions was his first class after breakfast and was not how Harry wanted to start a Friday. His scar started stinging, and Harry looked over at Regulus's box. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something was weird about that box.
"Ready?" Ron asked, walking into the room and over to his bed, where he started shoving things into his bag, then sat down to put on his socks and shoes.
"Yeah," Harry stood, grabbed his bag, and put Loki's fedora on his head, then followed Ron down the staircase to the common room, where Hermione was waiting in an armchair, reading a book. She closed it and stood when she spotted her friends and followed them out of the portrait hole and down the corridor.
"We have a potion, first thing." Hermione said, "I wonder if Snape will give us a lot of homework?"
"Of course, he will," Ron said as they walked down the marble staircase. "He gives us a lot of homework even when it isn't OWL year. I don't want to think about how much he'll give us now."
"Too much," Harry replied as they entered the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor Table. He glanced at the head table to see Sirius and Loki eating breakfast. They both smiled and waved at him. Harry waved back, then sat down and chose a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.
"Well, I think you two should have expected this year would be hard," Hermione said, buttering her toast. "I did, and Fred and George warned us on Monday, too."
"Yeah, well, you can't always believe Fred and George now, can you?" Ron asked, then shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth as Harry turned to his food. A few minutes later, owls brought the mail. Harry looked up when one landed before Hermione, holding the Daily Prophet. Ron scoffed as she took the paper and gave the owl a couple of coins, and it took off again.
"Why are you still getting that rubbish?" Ron demanded. "They won't report any news about You-Know-Who."
"To get other news that I might need to know," Hermione answered, "Plus, we should keep an eye on what the Ministry is saying. They might let slip something we don't want mentioned just yet."
"Like what?" Harry asked. Hermione looked at Harry and then around to make sure no one was listening, leaned in, and lowered her voice.
"Fudge knows your Mum is Loki; remember, she let the cat out of the bag after the last task, but Fudge has not told anyone. I believe he's too afraid of her, but if he gets desperate enough, he might say something thinking it'll ruin her chances of winning the election," Hermione said, going back to her newspaper, "If she wants to be the one to announce to the world she's Loki, she might not want to wait too much longer."
Harry looked down at his oatmeal and pushed it away, only half eaten, grabbed his bag, and stood.
"We better get going. We don't want to be late for potions. We don't want to give Snape a reason to take points from Gryffindor." Harry said.
Hermione folded up her paper and shoved it in her bag, then slung it over her shoulder and waited for Ron, who didn't stand until he had finished his breakfast and washed it down with pumpkin juice. The three friends walked to the dungeons while Hermione tried to guess what potion Snape would have them brew today.
"Hey, Potter." Draco Malfoy's voice echoed down the corridor as he walked toward Harry, Hermione, and Ron, surrounded by his little gang of Slytherin friends as usual.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, letting his annoyance show in his voice.
"I'm surprised you haven't gotten yourself a bodyguard yet," Draco replied. His friends laughed as if he had just told the funniest joke ever.
"I don't need bodyguards to protect myself from you lot," Harry replied.
"Really? Think you can take on all four of us?" Theodore Nott asked.
"I think a Flobberworm could take on you four," Harry replied. Ron laughed while the four Slytherins pulled out their wands. Harry and Ron did the same.
"Don't, you two will be the ones in trouble," Hermione whispered, just as the classroom door opened and Snape came charging out. All six students quickly put their wands away as he ordered everyone to enter. Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed to a desk in the back of the room, Ron on Harry's right and Hermione on his left.
"Quiet," Snape ordered as he slammed the door closed and marched up to his desk. Everyone fell silent as they pulled their books and cauldrons out of their bags. "Before we begin today's lesson, I think it appropriate to remind you that next June, you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an Acceptable in your OWL or suffer my… displeasure." His gaze lingered this time on Neville, who gulped.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape continued. "I take only the best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
His eyes rested on Harry, and his lip curled. Harry glared back, looking forward to being able to drop this class next year.
"Today, we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, to calm anxiety and shoot agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you must pay close attention to your actions. The ingredients and methods are on the blackboard, and you will find everything in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half, start."
No one talked as they got up and gathered the ingredients they would need; the only sounds heard were the sounds of chairs scraping across the stone floor and students walking to and from the store cupboard; after the last student was settled at their table, it was mostly silent, except for the sound of ingredients getting chopped, and the occasional splash of someone dropping an ingredient into their cauldron.
"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," Snape said when there were only ten minutes left of class.
Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead as he looked around the room, he was surprised to see his potion was actually doing what it was supposed to, being one of only six students who got it right, Hermione, Malfoy, Nott, Daphene Greengrass, Dean Thomas, and Lavender Brown being the other five. Ron's potion was a grey color, and Snape swept the room, criticizing some students' potions while just vanishing others. Snape passed Hermione's without a word, and when he came to Harry, he jerked Loki's fedora off his head and tossed it in his lap.
"What have I told you about wearing that ridiculous thing in my classroom?" Snape demanded, "And I must insist if you are going to wear your hair at such a ridiculous length, you are to tie it back when in my class. I won't have your hair flying everywhere." He pointed at Harry's potion without allowing him to answer, "What is this?"
"My potion," Harry said, "It's the color it's supposed to be, I did everything right."
"You mean Granger did everything right?" Snape sneered.
"What?" Harry demanded. "I did this myself."
"Really? Out of five years of bad potion-making, you expect me to believe you are suddenly good at it," Snape demanded, raising his wand to vanish the potion.
"But, sir, I didn't -" Hermione tried.
"Quiet." Snape ordered. "Ten points from Gryffindor." He walked past them and stopped at Ron's. "You forgot the two drops of syrup of hellebore, Weasley." Snape vanished Ron's potion, then walked back to the front of the room. "Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one vial with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing," Snape said, "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in next Friday."
"That was so unfair," Hermione complained five minutes later as they left the classroom, "I didn't do your potion for you. You did it yourself. How did you get it right?"
Harry shrugged, "Loki, he made some the last few weeks before returning to Hogwarts, I just made it the way he dose."
"You've been taught potions from Snape for five years and haven't learned a thing, but a few weeks watching Loki and, you're suddenly good at it?" Ron asked, "That proves it."
"Proves what?" Harry asked.
"That Snape is a horrible teacher," Ron said.
"We already knew that," Harry said, and the two started laughing as they headed to Charms, where, like all the other Professors, Professor Flitwick gave them a speech about OWLs before giving them their assignment. After Charms was Care of Magical Creatures, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went outside.
"I can't believe we already have another class with the Slytherins after just having one before Charms," Ron complained as they crossed the lawn.
Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long table in front of her laden with twigs. As they reached her, Harry realized she was not the only one there; Madam Umbridge stood beside her, holding her pink clipboard and quill. A loud shout of laughter sounded behind Harry; turning, he saw Draco Malfoy striding their way, surrounded by his usual gang of Slytherin cronies. He had clearly just said something highly amusing because Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and the rest continued to snicker as they gathered around the table and judging by the way they all kept looking over at Harry, he was able to guess the subject of the joke.
"Everyone here?" Professor Grubbly-Plank asked, and everyone mumbled a yes. "Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?" She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her.
Hermione's hand shot into the air as the twigs on the table leaped up and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixieish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.
"Anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?"
"Bowtruckles," Hermione said. "They're tree guardians, usually live in wand-trees."
"Five points for Gryffindor," Professor Grubbly-Plank said. "Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"
"Woodlice," Hermione said. "Also, fairy eggs if they can get them."
"Good girl, take another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered, they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp. So, if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle. I have enough here for one between three. You can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."
Harry walked over to get a bowtruckle and some woodlice, then went to where Ron and Hermione sat on the grass some distance away. Harry pulled out parchment and quill, sat beside them, and got the Bowtruckle to sit still and let them draw him by giving him a handful of woodlice. They sat quietly and worked while listening to Umbridge question Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"You do not usually teach this class, is that correct?"
"Correct." Professor Grupply-Plank answered. "I am a substitute for Professor Hagrid."
"You wouldn't happen to know where Hagrid is or why he could not come to work?" Umbridge asked.
"I do not. Professor Dumbledore did not volunteer that information, and I did not ask, as I didn't see it as any of my business. I was just happy to get the work." Professor Grubbly-Plank answered.
"I see," Umbridge said, "Well, that's all I have now. I'll walk around the class, shall I?"
"If that's what you feel you have to do." Professor Grubbly-Plank answered. Umbridge said no more as she began roaming the class, stopping and asking students questions, mostly the Slytherins, who all had something terrible to say about Hagrid. Thankfully, the few Gryfindors she spoke to had only good things to say. There were five minutes left of class when someone sat next to him. Harry paused in his drawing and looked up to see Theodore Nott.
"What are you doing over here, Nott?" Ron demanded, "Go back to your Slytherin mates."
"Shut it, Weasley, I'm not here for you," Theodore said as he turned to Harry."
"What do you-"
Harry's question was cut off by not pulling a Bowtruckle out of his pocket and tossing it in Harry's face, which aggravated the little creature, causing it to knock Harry's glasses off and start clawing at his left eye. Harry cried out and tried to pull it off as the Slytherins laughed. Thinking quickly, Hermione pulled out her wand and stunned the Bowtruckle, and it fell to the ground unconscious. Nott stood over Harry, laughing, and Harry jumped up and tackled him to the ground. Then punched him. When he drew his fist back to punch again, Ron grabbed his arm and tried to pull him off, and then Dean rushed over and helped together; they were both able to pull him away from Nott but had difficulty holding him back.
"Blimey, Harry, for a scrawny little git, you sure are strong," Dean mumbled as Harry jerked out of their hold; thankfully, he didn't go after Nott again.
"Mr. Potter, what in the world do you think you are doing?" Professor Grubbly-Plank demanded as she stood between him and Nott. "We do not attack our classmates."
"Don't blame him," Ron said. "Nott came over here and threw a Bowtruckle at him."
"Ron's right, Professor," Hermione said, standing; Professor Grupply-Plunk turned to them, frowning.
"They are lying; Theodore was sitting with us doing nothing." Pansy Parkinson said the Slytherins all agreed.
"They are not," Neville said, getting to his feet. "I saw Not throw it at Harry. Dean and Seamus saw it, too."
"We did," Seamus added, Dean nodded in agreement.
"Alright, alright, stop everyone," Grupply-Plank said. She glanced on the ground where the stunned Bowtruckle still lay, then to Nott. "Why are there scratches all over your hand, and are those bite marks?"
"No," Nott said, sticking his hand in his pocket. Professor Grupply-Plank didn't look convinced as she turned to Harry.
"Let's see the damage," Grupply-Plank said, checking Harry's eye. "Doesn't look too bad. Do you want to go to the infirmary?"
"No, I'll be fine," Harry replied, turning to pick up his glasses and wrenched, putting them on his face, when they touched the scratches.
"Well, alright then, " Professor Grupply-Plank turned back to the class, "Everyone, go ahead and pack up your belongings. You can finish your drawing as homework. Mr. Potter, Mr. Nott, I'll have to report this incident to Professor Dumbledore."
"Oh, I don't think that's necessary, Professor," Umbridge spoke up, "Dumbledore is a busy man; no need to trouble him; no injuries were made in this little disagreement; Potter already has one detention with me tonight, I'll just give him six more days, make it a week." Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron quickly clapped his hand over it.
"Don't. She'll only give you more," Ron warned. Harry jerked away from his hand, turned away from both Grubbly-Plank and Umbridge and started shoving his things back into his schoolbag. He then picked up Loki's fedora, shoved it in his bag too, slung it over his shoulder, and said nothing as Professor Grubbly-Plank dismissed them, and Harry headed towards the castle with Ron and Hermione, hurrying to catch up with him. Harry led them through the castle's entrance straight to the Great Hall for lunch, where they ate silently.
After lunch, they headed to Transfigurations, the last class of the day. Like everyone else, Professor McGonagall gave them a speech about their owls, before given them their assignment.
"Today, we are starting Vanishing Spells." Professor McGonagall said, "These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL."
The Vanishing Spells weren't too difficult for Harry. He was able to do it on the second try, the first to do so, followed by Hermione. By the end of class, Ron could vanish the shell on his snell, but that was it. For homework, Professor McGonagall told them all to practice.
"Potter, may I have a word with you before you leave?" Professor McGonagall said. "Alone," Harry told Ron and Hermione to go ahead, and he'll catch up. Then walked up to McGonagall's desk.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked after a moment.
"Madam Umbridge approached me at lunchtime with a rather interesting story." Professor McGonagall said. "She said she was inspecting Professor Grubbly-Plank's class when you suddenly attacked Theodore Nott without reason and nearly caused him serious injury, and she was forced to give you six more days of detention."
"That's not what happened." Harry said, "Nott threw a Bowtruckle in my face."
"Professor Grubbly-Plank came to me and explained what happened, and I have given Mr. Nott detention also, a week under the supervision of Professor Black," McGonagall said.
Harry grinned at that, and then his smile faded. "I'm not going to any detentions Umbridge gives me. Sirius told me not to."
"I see," McGonagall said. "Potter, Madam Umbridge has the authority to give out detention, and even though Sirius is your father, he does not have the authority to overrule them."
Harry shrugged, and McGonagall folded her hands in front of her on the desk and gave Harry a stern look.
"Potter, listen to me. Madam Umbridge is here under the order of the Minister of Magic himself," McGonagall said, "Missing Umbridge's detentions will not only get you or Sirius in trouble, but it will reflect on Hogwarts, Dumbledore, and the whole staff, make it look as if we allow the students to run amuck."
"But that's not true," Harry said.
"That doesn't matter, not if Fudge goes to the school governors with some wild tale, we could all lose our jobs, and you could be kicked out of Hogwarts, or if word gets out about your bad behavior, it will look bad on your parents, and might even cost Loki to lose the election, would you want that?"
"No, ma'am," Harry said.
"Go to your detentions, Potter. It's not going to hurt you," McGonagall said.
At ten to five, Harry headed to Madam Umbridge's office, which was a classroom no one used anymore. Harry knocked, was told to enter, and was nearly shocked at all the pink everywhere, and on the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter."
Harry was startled and looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing an ugly, floral set of robes that blended with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.
"Evening, Madam Umbridge," Harry said stiffly.
"Well, sit down," Umbridge said, pointing towards a small table where a piece of pink parchment lay, along with a black quill with a sharp tip. "You will be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter, using that quill I want you to write. I must not tell lies,"
"How many times?" Harry asked, sitting down.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge said; she bent over a stack of parchment and started writing.
"You haven't given me any ink," Harry said.
"Oh, you won't need ink," Umbridge said, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice. Harry placed the quill's point on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.
Harry let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment and looked like shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel, yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but relatively smooth. Harry looked at Umbridge. She watched him, with a sadistic smile on her toad like face.
"Yes?"
"Nothing," Harry snapped; he looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time once again, the words had been cut into his skin; once again, they healed over seconds later. And on it went. Again and again, Harry wrote the words on the parchment in what he soon realized was his own blood. And, again, the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and reappeared the next time he wrote. Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry did not when know when she would allow him to leave, and he wasn't going to ask. He knew she was watching him for signs of weakness, and he wasn't going to give Umbridge that satisfaction; he didn't care if she kept him here cutting his hand open all night with this damn quill.
"Come here," Umbridge said after what seemed like hours. He stood up. His hand was stinging painfully. Looking down at it, he saw that the cut had healed, but the skin was red.
"Hand," she demanded. Harry held it out, and Umbridge looked at it. Harry shuddered as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers.
"I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go." Harry glared at Umbridge and turned to go. "Oh and, Mr. Potter, there is no need to mention this to anyone, I do have permission to use that quill on misbehaving students."
Harry highly doubted that even Fudge would allow such a thing, not with the backlash it would cause from parents, but said nothing as he grabbed his bag, and left her office without a word. The school was completely deserted; it was past midnight. Harry walked the corridor to Gryffindor's Tower, where he went up to his dormitory, climbed in bed, closed his curtains tight, lit his wand, pulled out his homework, and stayed up all night doing it.
The next day, when asked how detention was, Harry lied and said Umbridge had made him sit quietly and do his homework; that way, he didn't have to listen to them fret about staying up all night when he told him he already did his homework, and it made sense a student would have to do their homework during detention since they weren't supposed to be fun. Then word wouldn't reach his parents about the quill. Harry wasn't going to be the reason they got themselves in trouble. He needed them around; he couldn't lose them now, and he didn't want to cost Loki the election. Umbridge had already complained to Fudge about Sirius yelling at her. So far, all he got was a warning letter from Fudge, and Sirius had barely read it before crumbling it up and tossing it in the rubbish bin. But who knows what they'd try next.
"At least you're getting your homework done," Hermione said as she, Harry, Ron, and Cho sat in Loki's chambers. Harry looked through his defense runes book while the others did their homework. "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really…and you needed to do it anyway,"
"Yeah, at least you don't have to clean Sirius's classroom without magic," Ron said. Harry had been happy to find out this morning that Sirius was making Nott clean the defense classroom for his detentions, including polishing the practice dummies the Muggle way with no magic.
"I can't believe how much homework we've got," Ron said miserably.
"Why didn't you do any last night?" Hermione asked him.
"I was too lazy," Ron admitted, and Harry shook his head with a smile.
The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of Harry's hand became irritated more quickly now and was soon red and inflamed. Harry thought it unlikely that it would keep healing as effectively for long. Harry made no signs of pain, from the moment of entering the room to the moment of his dismissal, again past midnight, he said nothing. When he arrived back at his dormitory, he had no homework to do, so he pulled out his handheld game, put a pair of earbuds in it, and played all night to keep himself awake. The tunes carved in the back worked even at Hogwarts, the game worked without interference.
Sunday passed in a haze of tiredness, and Harry's third detention passed in the same way as the previous two, except that after two hours, the words I must not tell lies did not fade from the back of his hand but remained there, oozing droplets of blood. The pause in the pointed quill's scratching made Umbridge look up.
"Ah," Umbridge said, moving around her desk to examine his hand herself. "Good. That ought to serve as a reminder. You may leave for tonight."
Harry left Umbridge's classroom without a word and returned to his dormitory, where Harry quietly got inside his trunk, pulled out all his shirts with long sleeves and a pair of scissors, got in bed, and spent the rest of the night cutting little holes in the bottom of the sleeves, just big enough to stick his thumb through so the sleeve covered his hands and stayed in place. Harry wouldn't have to constantly try to keep his hand hidden with the sleeve of his robes, and it wouldn't look suspicious to his parents like a bandage would; hopefully, it just looked like he was making some strange fashion statement.
Monday morning, Harry walked into History of Magic to see Madam Umbridge sitting at Loki's desk in the back of the room, clipboard and quill in hand. He looked towards the front of the room to see Loki sitting in her throne-like chair at the front of the room, looking through a book and acting as if Umbridge wasn't even there, so Harry decided to do the same as he headed to the front of the room.
Once the entire class was there, Loki set her book aside, stood, made an illusion appear, and started telling the story of the first war. From where she left off last Monday, everyone got out parchment and quill and began taking notes.
"Professor Ikol," Umbridge called, cutting Loki off as she strode to the front of the room. Loki raised an eyebrow. "I just have a few questions. Then you can get back to your..un..lesson."
"If you must," Loki replied with a sigh."Be quick about." Harry noticed Loki was a head taller than Umbridge, who had to look up to look at her, just like she had to do when talking to Sirius.
"First, your age?" Umbridge asked.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Loki replied, smirking.
"Professor Ikol-"
"Fourteen hundred and ninety-four," Loki answered, thinking she was joking. The class laughed. But Harry felt annoyed Umbridge didn't ask Professor Grubbly-Plank those questions.
"Mmm," Umbridge said, writing something on her clipboard. "This is your third year working here?"
"It is,"
"How did you come to have this job?" Umbridge asked.
"Well, I applied for the defense job, but Remus Lupin had already been given it. A great man, by the way," Loki smirked at the look Umbridge gave her, "I went home to look for work elsewhere when I got an Owl from Headmaster Dumbledore; come to find out, the ghost that taught History retired suddenly, and I of course was glad to accept the job."
"You and Professor Black share chambers?" Umbridge asked, "But not married, right?"
"No, not married," Loki replied, "but Sirius is my lover. We share chambers and a bed, too. Do you wish to know how many times a week we make love?"
"That won't be necessary," Umbridge replied, her face turning red as she wrote something down. "I'll just roam the room and watch, shall I?"
"Be my quest," Loki replied. "Just don't get in the way."
Umbridgd began walking around. Loki returned to her lesson, but then Umbridge started asking students questions, making it hard for Loki to teach. Fortunately, Umbridge chose when the class was full of Gryfindors to inspect Loki because they had nothing but good things to say about Professor Ikol and her lessons.
"Dolores," Loki said, annoyed, "How am I supposed to teach when you keep talking over me? This class is mostly taught by lecturing. I want to be able to do that without someone constantly asking my students dumb questions, and cutting me off."
"All a part of the inspections."
"Really?" Loki asked, "Then why did you not start until Professor Grubbly-Plank's class? And questioning the students is what your interviews are for. I'm afraid I will have to put a complete in with Minister Fudge."
Umbridge stared at Loki momentarily before writing something on her clipboard and walking toward her, "Just one more question for you. The lesson you're teaching, do you think it appropriate?"
"This is history class, is it not?" Loki asked, "The wizarding war is a big part of magical history. They are fifteen and sixteen years old, not toddlers, so, yes, I do believe it appropriate."
"They are not adult," Umbridge said.
"I didn't say they were, but I believe they are mature enough to hear about the war, no different than teaching about goblins or giant wars," Loki said, "I am a fantastic teacher; my students have excellent grades and learn a lot from me, I'm sure a lot of parents will appreciate that when they all get OWLs in history."
"Mmm," Umbridge replied. She seemed to want to say something else but held it in and instead said. "That will be all." then turned and left the classroom. Rolling her eyes, Loki continued teaching.
The next day, Harry was extra tired, barely able to function. His scar was hurting more, and he began avoiding eye contact with both Sirius and Loki, who both kept giving Harry worried glances whenever they were near him and asking if he was okay, which caused Harry to get aggravated and snap at both his parents, then felt terrible for the hurt looks they gave him.
At five O'clock Wednesday, Harry once again arrived at Umbridge's office and said nothing as he sat at the table and immediately picked up the quill and started doing lines until midnight when he showed Umbridge his hand, then left. Harry was beginning to feel like a zombie. He was so exhausted but got his homework out to do. By the end of Harry's sixth detention, he was sure the scars would never go away as he showed his hand to Umbridge.
"Do I still have to come back tomorrow?" Harry asked when Umbridge let go of his hand.
"Oh yes," Professor Umbridge smiled, "Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper. With one more detention, you may go."
Friday morning in potions, Harry was so tired his body was disobeying his effects to stay awake, and his eyes kept closing on their own accord, which did not set well with Snape, who, upon seeing Harry, rushed over to his desk and slammed his hand on the table, causing a loud bang that startled everyone but none more so than Harry, who had jerked back as if he'd been shot and fell out of his chair onto the floor, and the Slytherins burst into laughter.
"Silence," Snape shouted. They fell silent at once. "Potter, at night is when you are supposed to sleep, not in my classroom; gather your things and leave. I don't want to see you back until you learn to sleep during nighttime hours. " Harry, with his face red with embarrassment, packed away his things and left without another word.
At five o'clock that evening, he knocked on Professor Umbridge's office door for what he sincerely hoped would be the final time and was told to enter.
"You know what to do, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said. Harry picked up the quill and wrote. The cut on the back of his right hand opened and began to bleed with each letter he wrote. The cut dug deeper, stinging and hurting until blood trickled down his wrist. Harry briefly imagined what Loki would do if she knew about this, and the thought of someone caring about him that much, helped him fight through the pain to continue. It seemed like an eternity until Umbridge finally spoke.
"Well, I think I've made my point, Mr. Potter. You may go." Harry tossed down the quill and left the room quickly. Instead of returning to Gryffindor Tower for another sleepless night, Harry pulled his Invisibility cloak from his bag, put it on, and headed out of the castle, shifted into his wolf animagus, and ran towards the forbidden forest for a night of running around in the cool Autumn air.
AN: I wanted to get Harry's detention over with so, I put it all in the same chapter, it won't take long for Loki, and Sirius to find out the truth, because I don't like to drag things out too much, same reason there probably won't be a lot of Fifth year, a few chapters not sure how many, but they'll probably be a few times jumps later.
In my note, before my story began I explained Loki starts out as 1492 years old in my story, but his birthday isn't until December, so, he was still in 1491 during the New York invasion, would have turned 1492 towards the end of the year, so he will be 1495 in December 2015. I hope thats not confusion, and I'm adding this up right, I suck at math.