The Re-sorting Hat.

I Must Not Tell Lies

It turned out for Harry's sake that things did indeed get worse. He had detention. With Umbridge. He knocked on her door, knuckles white, and entered.
"Ah Mr Potter good of you to have... turned up" She smiled but it didn't meet her eyes as they were cold, calculating. "Sit down dear"

Harry reluctenly sat down on the frilly pink cushion and looked around him. There were what looked like tea plates with small mewling white kittens on them, the walls were pink as well, honestly this women really was crazy...
"Admiring my decor, Mr Potter?" The annoying voice of The Umbrige brought Harry back to his reality, or more like hell... Detention.

"You will be writing lines for me today, I want you to write I Must Not Tell Lies!" She then set down an engraved quill next to pink parchment. Harry clenched his jaw and asked through gritted teeth
"How many?"

"I think you will know Mr Potter, when the message well...sinks in" She smiled once more and once more it failed to meet her cold, dagger filled eyes.

I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not. Ow, that hurts. Harry looked down on his hand and it was a burning kind of rash colour. What?

Tell lies. I must not. Ow, this really hurts. He looked down once more and to his surprise and horror thin red lines of blood resembling letters were cutting into his hand, almost sinking into his flesh. Bastard Harry thought as he looked up at Umbridge and she returned his bewildered, betrayed look with another sickly smile.