Part 4~Home

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Harry walked up to the door, spotting Elijah who was standing outside the door. He had an indifferent expression on his face meaning the talk with his father probably didn't end well. "Snape that bad?"

Elijah spotted Harry and gave a tired smile. "You do not know the half of it." Elijah leaned his head back, rubbing his eyes. "He started threatening taking on the entire bloody Ministry because they were being 'incompitent, injudicious, insufferable dunderheads who wouldn't recognise Lord Morning Star's return even if he burst into the ministry itself.' I had to floo call Mum to stop him actually doing it." Elijah groaned, sliding down the wall. "He's way too protective, it's so embarrassing!"

Harry watched Elijah incredulously. Was he complaining about his father... caring? Harry had grown used to Ron's complaints- even though they had hurt at first- and he had grown used to Hermione's wishes that her parents were magical. But this, this wasn't a sibling hexing him or a mother trying to stop him reading about a book they deemed the devil's work- though thankfully that phase didn't last long (didn't stop Hermoine complaining about it years later). Elijah was complaining about how his dad was trying to help him. 

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times before coming up with an answer. "It must be nice to have a dad who cared that much."

Elijah's head shot up. He too seemed to be struggling on what to say. "Your dad doesn't care?"

Harry gave him a bittersweet smile. "He would if he could. He died when I was a baby but I know he loved me."

"So, it's just you and your mum then," Elijah whispered before noticing Harry's depressed demeanor. "She's dead too, isn't she?"

"Yeah."

"Shit. Sorry."

"It's fine. I live with my uncle, aunt and cousin- when not at school, so things aren't that bad." Yeah, not bad. Not like he was being locked in the spare room and had to break out every year. 

Elijah was about to say something when the door opened. Umbridge looked annoyed as she stared down at the two teens. "Do not think you will be getting out of this by showing up late, I expect you both to be on time and inside the room on the clock." She turned around and strolled inside- strangely reminding Harry of Snape.

Cautiously, Harry and Elijah entered, looking around the way too pink room. 

"Potter, Snape, sit down." Umbridge came up to them motioning towards the two chairs in front of her desk, each being filled by a teen shortly after being called into attention. 

"You're going to be doing lines, tonight, Mr Potter, Mr Snape. And you'll be using this quill."

Harry looked at the two Quills that were placed in front of them. They were blood red and had a sinister feel surrounding them. Harry had to take a deep breath before he was willing to pick the one in front of him up. Elijah didn't look as bothered, or at least if he was, he decided that it was better to get it over sooner rather than later.

"You will write 'I must not tell lies' until I tell you to stop. Understand?"

"There's no ink," Harry pointed out bluntly.

"Oh... you won't need ink."

Elijah shrugged as they shared a look. Moving the quill to a better position, Harry started to write out the words but gasped in pain. Both teens looked at their hands, in the centre the words 'I must not tell lies' was inscribed. It was clear that the handwriting was their own- Elijah's being an italic swirly writing that Snape probably taught him while Harry's was much simpler and looked messy. On the parchment, matching writing was drawn out in bright red blood. 

The words healled, scarring over the injury. 

"What in Merlin's name is this?!" Elijah threw the quill away, horror covering his face.

"Problem, Snape?"

Elijah looked like he was about to fight Umbridge but before he could, Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head and turned back to face Umbridge. "There is no problem." Harry took a deep breath before writing the line again. He did his best to write the words identically as to limit the damage done. The pain was becoming unbearable but he gritted his teeth and continued.

Elijah looked like he wanted to snatch the quill out of Harry's hand- stop this torture- but he knew he couldn't. He reluctantly picked up his quill and joined him in writing the lines.

By the time it was over, both were struggling to keep writing. Their hands were burning and had stopped healing a while back. The blood dripped down and onto the desk, making a pool of red. 

"That's enough for this evening. Same time, tomorrow, and we'll see if we can get the message to sink in a bit deeper."

Harry staggers to his feet, Elijah having to help him to stop the Gryffindor collapsing there and then. The second they got out, Harry started to struggle and run down the hall- ignoring Elijah's desperate attempts to stop him. 

Harry ran and ran, getting faster with every step. Doors past him at blinding speed. He couldn't take this! His hand was screaming in pain. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything! He wanted to go back home! He wanted to go find Luna and talk about Racksperts or find Nevile and talk about Herbology, heck he would even study with Hermoine if it was the Hermoine he knew. 

Tripping, Harry let out a scream of pain. He curled into a tight ball, rocking himself back and forth. He could deal with the pain. He could deal with the awful DADA teachers. He could even deal with all the hate everyone gave him. But he couldn't deal with this.

"Harry!" Elijah came barrelling down the corridor, hunching over as he breathed heavily. "Jeez you're fast!" Elijah plopped himself down beside Harry, taking a few deep breaths before smiling at Harry. "You alright?"

Harry didn't answer, looking away from the other teen.

"Don't worry. I get it. You're not used to this sort of treatment but will tell you it isn't normally like this." 

"It's not the pain I ran away from."

Elijah looked confused as Harry bit his lip.

"I want to go home." For one second- one very small second- Harry didn't care how pathetic he sounded.

Elijah narrowed his eyes, trying to work out what to say, smiling when he came up with the right one. "Tell me about it. Tell me about your home."

Harry smiled, memories flashing before his eyes. "Honestly... it's chaos. But I wouldn't change it for the world..."

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