Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They knew Hermione would rather eat Bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.
    Moody began to beckon students forwards in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Harry watched as, one by one, his 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 the curse off, 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. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, ‘Imperio.’
    It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.
    And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody’s voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk … jump onto the desk …
    Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring.
    Jump onto the desk …
    Why, though?
    Another voice had awoken in the back of his 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 Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping – the result was that he’d smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps.
    ‘Now, that’s more like it!’ growled Moody’s voice, and suddenly Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to double.
    ‘Look at that, you lot … Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We’ll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention – watch his eyes, that’s where you see it – very good, Potter, very good indeed! They’ll have trouble controlling you !’
    ‘The way he talks,’ Harry muttered, as he hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting Harry through his paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw the curse off entirely), ‘you’d think we were all going to be attacked any second.’
    ‘Yeah, I know,’ said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step. He had had much more difficulty with the curse than Harry, though Moody assured him the effects would have worn off by lunchtime. ‘Talk about paranoid …’ Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot, and went on, ‘No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry, did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted “boo” behind him on April Fools’ Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we’ve got to do?’
    All the fourth-years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had set.
    ‘You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!’ she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. ‘Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer –’
    ‘We don’t take O.W.Ls ’til fifth year!’ said Dean Thomas indignantly.
    ‘Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!’
    Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself.
    Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class. She read out large portions of