Truth Written in Ink || hjp.

3. the tournament.

✠

Oh sweet October.

Sirius finally replied to Harry's letter. It still felt weird for El to get used to Harry talking about Sirius Black like they were closer than anything in the world, since she mostly knew him by the guy who murdered James and Lily Potter plus thirteen muggles. It was a story her mum would tell her at night, about the man who killed his friends for the dark wizard's approval.

He advised Harry to keep in touch and let Dumbledore know if his scar hurt again. Apparently he had moved in closer, to scan things from a closer point of view. It was the best he could do, but it clearly didn't satisfy Harry. Elora could tell his worry, as he looked anxious most of the time; obviously scared for his godfather.

And to add the cherry to the cake, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But — but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely —fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

There was a small, tiny part of Elora who wanted to leave, who wanted to run away and curl into a ball and die. However, she wanted to know how it felt like. She needed to know how bad it was somehow.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the imperius Curse upon them.

El watched as, one by one, her classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence.

Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."

Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Elora couldn't help feel a rush of anxiety for him.

Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "Imperio!"

Harry stood there, looking relaxed. He bent his knees apparently about to jump into something, but stopped right before he could do so. He struggled, but before he could jump his body seemed to have other plans. Before he could stop himself, he smashed headlong into the desk next to him, knocking it over.