Pass the Glamours

Chapter Thirteen: Must Not Tell Lies

The rest of the Holiday was with the young Wizard learning and participating in ancient wizarding traditions. He was quite excited to be able to enjoy the holiday outside of school. He didn't get any presents from his mates, namely because two of them were originally unhappy with him being their Heart. To be honest, he wasn't expecting to be getting anything that Christmas, not when he was told to go to the Dursleys.

After the break, it seemed Umbridge had gotten her things together and the truth of what she actually was doing. She was privately interviewing and examining the other teachers and how they ran their classes. She had quickly decided on several classes that could either have their funding cut back, or be completely get rid of it; like Divination.

As much as Harry didn't like the class, and he did find the teacher to be a bit of a shame, the way Umbridge went about it... It had felt wrong. She had publicly humiliated the fuzzy-haired woman. Flaunting the fact that she held the power to do whatever she wanted from Fudge.

Dumbledore did nothing for her tyranny. Which had plenty of people upset, not just the Gryffindors either. There were enough Slytherins that were upset with her to not care about her over-reaching policies. Then there were the punishments...

"Do you expect to get attacked in my class, Mr. Potter?" The pink toad spoke so condescendingly, as if she didn't know the past four years.

"Perhaps not in class-"

"Then you don't need to-"

"But there's the real world! The real world isn't like a classroom!" He shouted, slamming his hands on his desk as he stood up. "Even if you don't believe that Voldemort," the Slytherin's flinched away, "we still should have some experience casting these spells!"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" She snapped.

"For what? For exposing your own hypocrisy?" He scowled.

"For telling lies! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back, and the world is much safer than you have been led to believe. Now, leave." She huffed, pointing toward the door.

"Your teaching will kill." He growled, grabbing all but her books. "I refuse to come back here to listen to nonsense from a naive toad."

Her shrill scream followed him out, but he felt proud of himself. Proud that he stood up to a bully like her. If Voldemort was the good guy, then it didn't matter if they believed in his return, but he refused to have them be babied! They were fifth years, not second years! Even Lockhart was a better teacher than her. He may have been egotistical, but he at least had them practice spells!

He quickly made his way to the library, figuring that he should read real Defense books. It wasn't long before he was called back to Umbridge's office. Her face was scrunched up, glaring at him from behind her sickeningly pink desk.

"Sit." She motioned to a lone desk in front of her.

The boy-who-lived sat numbly in front of her, narrowing his eyes on her ever so slightly.

She gave him a faux smile that just reeked of entitlement and rage. He should know, the Dursleys often gave him that smile when they couldn't punish him in public. It made him tense and pull away from her.

Suddenly she was in front of him, placing a piece of parchment in front of him, along with a red-feathered quill.

"Write 'I must not tell lies'. With this quill." She lightly tapped it with the tip of her stubby wand.

"There's no ink." He murmured weakly, a nauseating feeling settling in his stomach.

She just gave a twisted grin that seemed as if she was trying to be this polite thing. A thing that held power over him.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I had allowed you to walk along these halls undisturbed. Despite the fact of yours lies and your rudeness and the incident." She bowed her head, giving a mock pout. His mouth felt dry. She then whirled around, back to her desk, chittering. "There is no need for ink, just write."

He sat there for a moment before tenderly picking up the red quill. The red feather sickly reminded him of blood. Looking down at the single sheet of paper no longer than a standard muggle sheet, the unease in his stomach grew.

"H-how many lines?" He grumbled.

"Oh," she gave that stupid laugh, "just till it sinks in." She chuckled under her breath, like she told an inside joke.

He looked down to the parchment, as if trying to will the words to write themselves. Finally, he raised the quill and began to write. Since he had just a bit more time writing with a quill, and Draco was practically hellbent on making sure his writing was proper for a Lord, Harry's handwriting had taken on a more cursive look. If only between that and plain writing.

With each scrap of the quill, red ink flowed. It would've looked pretty, but there was a hint of iron in the air that wasn't there prior. Then there was the stinging on his left hand. He ignored it the best he could, biting the inside of his lip to contain any noise of discomfort.

After digging into the parchment just a bit too hard, he took a sharp intake of breath. His eyes moved to his hand; wear blood was beginning to leak out of new wounds. Out of the words he had been writing for nearly an hour.

I must not tell lies.

"Is something the matter?" The pink witch cooed, towering over him from his seated position.

His eyes darted between his hand to her, him naturally pulling away. She was a bad and twisted woman, that much was clear to him.

"No." He murmured. As twisted as she was, he had faced far worse than this.

Her smile grew too large for his likely as she bowed ever so carefully. Just to get closer to him.

"That's right. You know you must be punished right? That you did and said many bad things. You know that all you had said was just lies." Her words dripped with sugary sweetness that it made him want to cry. Made him feel helplessly weak.

He could only turn away and nod, just to please her.

"You may go. I expect to see you tomorrow after dinner."

He said nothing as he left, hurrying to Myrtle's bathroom. He hoped that she wouldn't bother him. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her antics. Not at the moment.

As he washed the blood off, he slowly realized something.

"How am I going to hide this from them?"