Chosen & Hated (HP) {Book 2 of the Wild & Free Series}

13. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

The next morning I woke up late. I put on my clothes and went downstairs for breakfast, guessing Ron, Hermione and Harry were already there.

I was right. Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting at the Gryffindor table, engaged in a heated conversation.

"That was a lie, Harry," said Hermione sharply. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."

"What was a lie?" I asked them, sitting next to Harry.

"Harry sent a letter to Sirius saying his scar didn't actually hurt and that he was half-asleep when he sent the letter and he said the same for you." Hermione explained. I looked at her.

"Well, that's good, right?" I said. "Now he doesn't have to come back."

"Liana, it's still a lie." said Hermione sharply.

"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me." I nodded in agreement.

"Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.
I did my best not to worry about Sirius over the next couple of weeks. True, I could not stop myself late at night before I went to sleep from seeing horrible visions of Sirius, cornered by dementors down some dark London street, but between times I tried to keep my mind off my godfather. I wished I still had Quidditch to distract me; nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training ses- sion. On the other hand, our lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To our surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether we 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."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry, Ron and I grinned at each other. We knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. I watched as, one by one, my 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.

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

I moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at me, and said, "Imperio!"

It was the most wonderful feeling. I felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching me.
And then I heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of my empty brain: Jump onto the desk... jump onto the desk...
I bent my knees obediently, preparing to spring.
Jump onto the desk...
Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of my brain.
Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.
Jump onto the desk...
No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly... no, I don't really want to...
Jump! NOW !
The next thing I felt was considerable pain. I had both jumped and tried to prevent myself from jumping — the result was that I'd smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in my legs, fractured both my kneecaps.