Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

30. beauxbatons and durmstrang.

"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 towards the door. Hermione went very pink, and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry, Antheia, 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 forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Antheia 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!

Antheia and the rest of the class held their breath as Harry bent his knees but stayed in place. The next second, Antheia saw Harry's head smash against the desk, knocking it over. A loud CRACK signified a broken bone.

"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!" Moody said, as he looked down his crinkled list of names. He looked up and said, "Lupin. Your turn."

"Dunno how you're going to beat that," said Harry, still rubbing his kneecaps.

"I think I can beat a broken head."

Moody raised his wand and muttered, "Imperio."

A wave of relief passed her mind. All her worries and problems seemed to fade away and all she felt was a feeling of joy and calm. Moody's rough voice echoed through her mind suddenly.

Do a flip ...

Antheia's brain flashed to Harry's head banging against the desk.

No, I'm going to die.

Do it. Do a flip.

I don't think so. Dying by smashing my head against a table sounds painful.