Harry knocked on the pink door twice and waited. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't lose his temper. Not again. Detention in the first week itself was bad enough. He didn't want to make this a regular thing. His godfather would be less than pleased. Besides, it wasn't even his fault! All he'd done was tell her the truth about Voldemort being back.

But the new Defence Professor had called him a liar and assigned detention. He hated Dolores Umbridge. She was the liar here, not him.

"Come in." There was that sickly sweet voice again. He wasn't sure if he had ever hated any one as much as he hated the bloody toad on the other side of the door. He schooled his features and opened the door.

Her office was so... pink! There were shades of pink everywhere. Baby pink wallpaper, a pink carpet with paisley patterns, even most of the furniture was pink! Almost every section of the walls were filled with pictures of different breeds of cats. Her office felt repulsive and Harry swallowed the urge to gag.

He felt like he'd just entered a Barbie dollhouse. Except, in this version, Barbie wasn't a pretty blonde with blue eyes and an abnormally long neck. In this 'dollhouse', 'Barbie' was a middle aged, stout, toad-like creature dressed in a shapeless pink dress and a pink cardigan. Umbridge' beady black eyes zeroed in on him.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter. Come, sit." She smiled at him but it was all teeth and no warmth. There was a cold, almost savage gleam in her eyes and it was unsettling.

Harry sat down on one of the pink stuffed chairs and waited. "Would you like some tea?" He shook his head. Her smile faltered slightly when he refused. "Very well then."

"Tell me, Potter, why are you here today?"

"Because I spoke the truth." Harry wasn't feeling particularly obedient right now. Umbridge merely took another sip of her tea and looked at him as though he were nothing more than a bothersome fly.

"Incorrect. You are here because of your lack of respect towards the ministry and the lies that you have been telling. You need to be corrected." Harry stayed silent, eyes fixated on the carpet. "You see Mr. Potter, certain children, orphans especially, tend to stray off the right path due to lack of a guiding hand. Such individuals need to learn. I'm here for that exact reason."

Throughout her little explanation, Harry had balled his fists until he felt his fingernails digging into his palm almost painfully. The urge to lash out at her was overwhelming. He wasn't an orphan! At least not anymore. He'd been adopted by his brilliant godfather shortly after his third year. It was the first thing Sirius had done after he'd been proven innocent.

"What do I have to do?" Umbridge smiled at him—that annoying, sickly, fake smile— and opened one of the drawers in her desk. She pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill and placed it in front of him. "You will be doing lines, Mr. Potter. For the duration of your detention."

Two hours of writing lines? That didn't sound too bad. "What do you want me to write?" He could do this. "I must not tell lies." And just like that, his anger returned. He grit his teeth, reached into his bag and pulled out his ink bottle. "Oh don't bother. This quill doesn't require any ink. It's one of a kind."

He stared at the parchment for a minute before writing. He'd barely written that vile sentence once when an intense pain flared up in his left hand. He bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out. He glanced down at the injured hand and nearly gasped.

Carved into his skin were the very words he'd just written on the parchment. The crimson words that had been carved out from his own blood made him nauseous. He glanced at Umbridge who gave him another of those sick smiles. "Is there a problem, Mr. Potter?"

"No." There was no way he'd show any weakness in front of her. Harry clenched his left fist and continued to write. He desperately tried to ignore the increasing pain but was barely successful.

The clock ticked on and it was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Every now and then Umbridge would look at him condescendingly and smile cruelly.

By the end of those horrible, excruciating two hours, Harry was close to tears. The back of his hand was throbbing and the words could be seen distinctly. "I believe we're done for the day, Mr. Potter. I hope you have learnt your lesson. Any more and we'll be back here before you know it. Goodnight, Potter."

Harry didn't bother to return the greeting. He shouldered his bag and all but fled from her office. He went straight to his dormitory since he wasn't hungry anymore. The dormitory was thankfully empty. He threw himself on his bed and shoved his hand under his pillow. The underside of the pillow that was cool provided some sort of minimal comfort to his poor hand.

He wanted nothing more than to talk to his godfather. He felt underneath his pillow and his fingers closed around the mirror that Sirius had given him before he'd left. It was a two way mirror. All he had to do was say his godfather's name and the man would appear in it.

He forced a smile on and prayed that his voice sounded stronger than he felt. "Sirius Black." He waited for about a minute before Sirius appeared within the frame. "Hey, pup. How was your day?"

"It was alright. Lessons are boring." Sirius laughed and shook his head playfully at him. "Now, now. You know better than to say that, young man. Just don't fall asleep, kiddo." Harry felt better already. "So, how are the professors treating you? Has old Minnie docked points off yet? Is Snape being an arse again?"

"Nothing worse than usual. I've learnt how to deal with him." It was that pink toad that was the actual problem. "Mmhm. You tell me if he gives you any trouble. I'll set the twins on him in an instant. Anyway, what about that new Defence professor. Is she any good?"

Harry mentally winced. The very topic he had wanted to avoid. He'd made up his mind that he wouldn't tell his godfather about Umbridge and her detention. He didn't want to bother the man with his problems. He was fifteen for Merlin's sake! He could deal with one bloody detention and a little pain without whining.

"She looks like a toad." It was the only honest thing that didn't disclose her rather malignant temperament. "Well, you be sure to catch her snapping up flies." Harry had to laugh. It was just too hilarious. He pictured Umbridge eat insects during lessons. Just like the toad she was.

"So what else is new, pup?"

"Nothing much. Mcgonagall said that the first Quidditch game of the year is coming up in less than a month. You'll come, won't you?" Sirius had promised he'd come and watch. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Harry felt a small lump in his throats and shoved it down. His godfather had no idea how much it meant to Harry. Sirius was the only father Harry had ever known. "So I suppose I'll see you around then."

"You certainly will. Goodnight, pup. I love you."

"Love you too."

Hoping desperately that everything would get better, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.

Turns out he couldn't have been more wrong. The days just got worse. Umbridge practically pounced on every single opportunity to have Harry in detention. Even the smallest of offences were punished serverely. It was always the same. He'd go to her office in the evening and she'd make him wrote lines for over two hours.

At first it was only once in two weeks or so. But then, the number of days began to increase until it was almost three to four days a week. His left hand worsened. It was a patchwork of words. The older ones had turned white and had permanently engraved themselves into his skin. He'd always yank the of his sleeves sweater down so that they covered his hands. No one could know about it.

He hadn't told Sirius and he didn't plan to. Ron and Hermione had reluctantly promised to keep his secret. Although they'd tried to persuade him to tell his godfather, the two of them hadn't achieved much success.

None was happier than Harry when Christmas vacations began. He simply couldn't wait to go home. He had missed Sirius a lot. He knew that the moment he was home, he'd feel better.

The moment the train pulled up into the station, Harry all but rushed out of the train. His eyes scanned the crowd of parents and an automatic smile formed on his face when he spotted Sirius.

Not caring that he looked silly, Harry ran all the way and threw his arms around his godfather. As predicted, he felt a hundred times better already. "There's my boy! You really have missed me, haven't you?" Harry didn't reply but merely hugged the man tighter. "Come now, pup. Dobby's waiting at home with all your favourites.

Harry finally pulled away. "Alright." Sirius shrunk Harry's trunk, pocketed it and threw his arm around the lad's shoulders. They waved goodbye to Harry's friends before walking into the muggle world.

Unlike most teenage boys, Harry didn't mind the arm around him. If anything, he welcomed it. Especially after everything that had happened with Umbridge. All his life, he had been deprived of basic affection. Now, he relished it.

He was home.

Sirius was elated to have his godson back home. He was pleasantly surprised when the boy had greeted him so enthusiastically. He observed Harry with a slight frown as he got ready to apparate home. He'd lost quite a bit of weight and that wasn't something comforting.

Never mind that. He was home for the vacations and Sirius would do his best to get a bit of fat onto the boy. "Hold on tight, kiddo." Harry gripped his arm and they were instantly sucked into the familiar tube of darkness.

Once they were home, Sirius sent Harry's trunk up to his room. Unpacking later.

Food comes first. Always.

At lunch, Harry told him about his term. It sounded pretty normal but Sirius couldn't help but feel that his pup had left something out. He didn't know why he felt that way but he did. He ignored the unpleasant hunch.

"Eat a little more, kiddo. You're far too thin for my liking," Sirius instructed when Harry only helped himself to only a small portion of pasta. "And you are still too much of a mother hen for my liking," Harry replied with a teasing grin but did as he'd been told.

Sirius reached out and tugged Harry's ear playfully. "And you're still a little brat." The fondness in his voice contradicted his words though.

That night, Harry crawled into bed, tired and absolutely happy. He pulled out a long sleeved jumper over his nightshirt to make sure that his hands were covered. He hated hiding anything from Sirius but he needed to do this. He'd already caused enough trouble last year over Voldemort's return. He didn't want to create any further problems for his godfather.

Christmas was brilliant. Harry's friends, the entire Weasley family, Remus, even the Granger family came together. It was one big celebration at Black Manor.

Presents, greetings, hugs and kisses were exchanged. The atmosphere was nearly buzzing with the festive spirit. Happiness, excitement and bliss. For a while, everyone forgot that Voldemort was back. Presently, they were nothing more than a group of friends who'd all gathered to celebrate Christmas.

While Sirius felt that nothing could ruin this holiday, he had no idea about how wrong he was.

He was in for a nasty surprise.

It was like any other day.

Harry's friends had just left. The Weasleys and Harry had been playing Quidditch out on the grounds. Harry put his broom and equipment away but kept the snitch. He had the habit of occasionally meddling with the tiny golden ball. According to Sirius, it was something that he'd picked up from James.

Tired, he plopped down on the sofa lengthwise, still fiddling with the snitch. He played with it for a while before knocking off, the ball firmly clutched in his left hand.

Sometime later, when Sirius returned home, he found his godson asleep on the sofa. Fifteen and napping. He shook his head with a fond smile. He then noticed something sticking out of Harry's hand. Upon closer inspection, he found that it was a snitch.

Fearing for the wings of that poor little thing, he bent down to free the snitch from the boy's grasp. As he was doing so, the long sleeve of Harry's sweatshirt slid up a bit.

That's when he saw it.

I must not tell lies.

The white words were etched onto the pale skin on his boy's hand. Someone had tried to hurt Harry.

Pure fury coursed through his veins.

More importantly, why hadn't Harry said anything. Surely, the lad knew by now that he could always talk to Sirius.

Enough of this rubbish.

He shook Harry's shoulder sharply. "Harry, get up." Groggily, the boy sat. "What?" He sounded irritated, clearly annoyed at being woken up.

Ignoring the irate tone, Sirius grasped Harry's wrist with firm fingers. "When, pray tell, were you planning to tell me about this?" His words were calm but they betrayed the underlying anger in them.

Every bit of sleep left his person when Harry realised what his godfather was talking about. Dammit! How could he have been so careless! All these days, he'd been so careful, making sure that his hand was completely covered. One small mistake was all it took.

He snatched his hand from the man's hold and quickly got up. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He made to go to his room only to be pulled back.

"Oh no you don't! Don't you dare walk away from this! You will tell me what this is about." The only time Harry has seen Sirius so angry was when his name had been pulled out of the Goblet. Even then, it hadn't been at him.

"I said it's nothing! It's not a big deal, Sirius. Leave it alone." Harry felt his own temper rising slowly. He couldn't tell Sirius. He wouldn't.

"Not a big deal? Leave it alone? Just look at your hand, Harry! If someone is hurting you, I need to know." Harry didn't know how to answer that.

There was this small, logical and rational part of him that was screaming at him to end this and just tell his godfather everything. Normally, he always felt loads better when he just unburdened himself. Why was he being so adamant now?

"No one is hurting me, Sirius. I'm fine." I'm fine. Harry had lost count of the number of times he'd used that exact phrase.

"Harry James, if no one was hurting you, your hand wouldn't look like that. I only want to help you. So, you need to tell me what's going on. "

Harry hated this. He hated arguing with his godfather, more than anything. Whenever they had even small disagreements, he felt miserable and was always quick to apologise.

"Please, Sirius. Don't make me. Please, please just let it be." He didn't want to fight anymore. Not with the one person he looked up to more than anyone else.

Sirius watched his godson. The boy had wrapped his arms around himself almost protectively. What could be so bad that Harry put up such resistance and refused to talk? The man was also blaming himself. He was supposed to be the calm, responsible adult. He shouldn't have been so harsh with the lad. What was wrong with him? What he should have done was patiently spoken to him. Not yell and shake him further.

Harry's emerald eyes were glistening with unshed tears and Sirius cursed himself. He stepped forward and pulled Harry into his arms, hugging him tightly. Immediately, the boy hugged him back. "I'm sorry," Harry whispered. "No, kiddo, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so hard on you."

"Harry, I'm worried, alright. You need to tell me what's going on. Whoever is harming you, I'll make them stop." Oh he'd get them to stop. But before that, he'd make sure that they paid dearly.

He led Harry to the sofa and sat down next to him, slinging his arm around his pup. "Just tell me, kiddo." After what felt like forever, Harry sagged against him, his posture resigned.

"Umbridge."

The new DADA teacher? That little bitch had done this to his pup? "Tell me everything."

Sirius listened, his anger increasing with each word. Harry told him about the detentions and how she continuously used that blood quill on him, how she accused him of being a liar and how she belittled him. Harry's voice was a bare whisper as he spoke. By the time Harry was done, Sirius was livid.

How dare she?

Sirius subconsciously pulled Harry closer, absentmindedly running a hand through his godson's hair. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, Harry?" He made sure that his words were calm although he felt the complete opposite. Why had the boy chosen to suffer instead of talking to him?

"You've already been through a lot, Sirius. And that's my fault. It's not your burden to bear." These words hurt Sirius more than he would've thought. "Not my burden? How can you say that, Harry?"

"Sirius, I didn't me—"

"You shouldn't have to hide, pup. Not from me." Sirius tipped Harry's chin up and looked the boy in the eye. "I know that, Sirius, I swear I do. It's just that you've done a lot for me and I don't want to put you through anything more. She's utterly horrible, Sirius."

The man shook his head and pulled the boy close once again. "I don't care what the situation is. Whatever it is, we get over it together. You're not supposed to bottle it all up like that. Dear Merlin, never met a more thick headed boy."

The fact that Harry didn't have a comeback for that proved just how upset he was. That filthy bloody toad!

She'd pay. He'd make sure of that. She'd rue the day she had decided to hurt Harry James Potter.

Dolores Umbridge was about to incur the wrath of one pissed off, overprotective godfather.

And that's Part One. Part Two will be uploaded soon.