False Gods, Harry Potter. [ HIATUS ]

xxix. foregin students

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𝐕𝐎𝐋. 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ━ 𝕯𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹'𝘀 𝕻𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 °. ୭̥❁.*
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     "SO WERE LYING NOW?" ALENA ASKED HARRY, A HINT OF DISAPPOINTMENT IN HER VOICE. "You know damn well you didn't imagine your scar hurting."

     "So what?" Harry muttered, his glaucous eyes showing a intimation of lament. "Besides, I don't want my parents to worry."

     "That's what parents are for," Alena reassured him. "They're supposed to worry. It's not like you're a burden... wait, is that what you think? That you're a burden to them."

     Harry just stayed silent, his head hanging low in frustration. He didn't have to say anything; she already knew.

     "I'm sure if you just tell them, they would no doubtedly help you. Just think about it, okay? And you're not a burden, to anyone. I promise you." Alena attempted to solace his worries, pressing her asthenic lips to his temple.

     Harry did his best to not be so hard on himself the past couple of weeks. True, he couldn't stop himself from constantly worrying about his, but most of all, Alena's safety. He knew deep down that a letter would probably calm himself, like Alena said. He wished he still had Quidditch to occupy his mind. On the other hand, their Dark Arts lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than they ever had.

     To some peoples surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and whether they could resist its effects.

     Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put them under the Imperius Curse.

      "Potter," Moody called. "you next."

     Harry moved into the middle of the classroom, it was a space that Moody cleared of his desks. Moody raised his wand, and pointed it at Harry, and casted the spell, "Imperio."

     It was a pleasurable feeling. It was like a floating sensation as every worry, overwhelming thought had been gently submerged by a vague, untraceable happiness.

     And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice ringing through his head: Jump onto the desk... jump onto the desk...

     Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to jump.