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HRHL# Chapter 146: Aunt, Do You Like Potter?{3}
🕑 Added 2025-04-08 20:56:05 +0000 UTC“Aunt Poppy,” Theseus said, practically buzzing with excitement, “he’s been absolutely unstoppable today. Honestly, my advice is this: if you like someone, go after them with all you’ve got. You’ve been practicing to become an Animagus, and it’s got to be for that Potter gentleman, right? That’s why you’ve ended up like this. I’m sure Mr. Potter must feel something for you too…”
“I don’t know.”
Poppy lowered her head, and for once, she didn’t put on that usual bubbly, energetic front in front of others.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
She covered her face, and large, silvery ghost tears slipped through her fingers.
Unbeknownst to her, Mr. Flamel had quietly sidled over, holding two test tubes beneath her face to catch the ghostly tears.
Seeing the puzzled looks on his friends’ faces, Mr. Flamel silently mouthed, “No sense in wasting them.”
Cassandra’s the eldest daughter of the Malfoy family, and Veratia’s so brilliant—what do I have? What do I even have?
She muttered disjointedly.
Tina shifted closer, sitting beside Poppy.
She cautiously reached out a hand and said softly, “Aunt Poppy, you’ve still got us—every single one of us. We’ll always support you.”
“Yeah, Aunt Poppy,” Theseus and Newt chimed in together, “you’ve got us.”
Hearing those words, Poppy lifted her face, looking utterly pitiful as she asked, “Really?”
“Of course it’s real,” Tina said gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll definitely help you.”
“Good!” Poppy wiped her tears and flung her hand out with determination.
With agility that defied his age, Mr. Flamel swiftly caught the splattering ghost tears in the narrow mouth of his test tube.
Seeing his quick move, Newt couldn’t help but blurt out, “Mr. Flamel, this…”
“Ha ha,” Mr. Flamel chuckled as he capped the test tube, “gotta be frugal, you know.”
Newt lowered his head again and said to Poppy, “Don’t worry, Aunt Poppy. Since you’ve come a hundred years into the future, you’ve got us—and we’ll absolutely help you get together with Mr. Potter!”
…
Far away at Hogwarts, Harry had no idea that a “Harry-Poppy Party” had been founded in Paris, France. Right now, he rolled out of bed, ready to head upstairs to the Room of Requirement for some training.
He’d originally planned to train in the Forbidden Forest, but unfortunately, there were patrols outside today, complete with anti-Disillusionment charms and invisibility countermeasures, making it impossible to sneak in.
Beneath the portrait of the troll clubbing Barnabas the Barmy, Cedric and Megan were already waiting.
Harry greeted them and asked the Room of Requirement for a meeting room.
Yes, today he intended to shake things up a bit, rather than just sticking to combat training.
Taking the head seat in the meeting room, Harry spoke first. “Lately, everyone’s been doing great with their practical drills. I’ve noticed you’ve all mastered at least five spells for dueling—but today, I’m going to teach you some little charms you won’t find in any textbook.”
The mention of “little charms not in textbooks” sent a ripple of excitement through the group.
“Brilliant,” Cedric said with a sunny smile. “Something not in the textbooks—I’m dying to know what kind of spells you’d bring us to the Room of Requirement to learn.”
Poor Cedric. He had no idea what he was in for.
Hermione, however, suddenly frowned. Something felt off to her, and her mind raced straight to that book from the Gaunt family—Harmless Little Curses.
Could it be…
Was Harry about to teach them those “harmless” Gaunt-approved curses that could land someone a one-way ticket to a Dementor’s kiss?!
But before she could dwell on it, she noticed Harry pulling out a handful of wands from somewhere and passing them around.
Seeing those secondhand wands, Hermione let out an involuntary gulp.
Merlin’s beard, it really looked like they were about to learn some Azkaban-worthy spells!
“Here, take these wands,” Harry said with a grin. “I figured you wouldn’t want certain spells traced back to you with a Priori Incantatem, so I borrowed some old ones from outside.”
“How’d you manage to borrow them?” Ron asked, curious. “Wizards treat their wands like their lives—why would they lend them to you?”
Harry opened his mouth to answer, then recalled a famous line from The Godfather, Uncle Vernon’s favorite movie. With a dramatic flourish of his hand, he said, “I gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
Most of the kids in the room, raised in wizarding families, had no clue what he meant—nor did Hermione, who had zero interest in Muggle films.
But her instincts screamed that Harry’s “offer” wasn’t exactly wholesome.
“Alright, now pick up your wands,” Harry said to the group. “The spells we’re about to learn will be very useful—but I don’t recommend using them recklessly outside.”
“What spells, Harry?” Seamus asked eagerly. “Something explosive? Can we blow this blasted place sky-high?”
“No, not quite, Seamus,” Harry replied, leaning against the table. He scanned the room and asked, “Among the many dark curses out there, there are three Unforgivable Curses. Who can name them?”
“The Cruciatus Curse, Harry,” Neville said with a shiver, though he still answered.
“The Killing Curse,” Hermione added.
“And the Imperius Curse,” Cedric finished.
“I’m glad you all know them,” Harry said, clapping his hands. “But I hope you never have to face them. The whole point of practicing here is to make sure we’re not defenseless against this stuff—alright, let’s start with the Imperius Curse.”
“Who knows the key to the Imperius Curse?” Harry asked.
The room fell silent. No one had ever really studied it—most would skip right over it if they came across it.
“Fine, I’ll tell you,” Harry said when no one answered. “The Imperius Curse, incantation Imperio, is used to control someone’s actions or even an object’s. It’s one of the Unforgivables.”
“When the spell hits its target, the caster feels a rush of warmth, and they can control the victim’s actions and words—like a puppet on strings.”
With that, Harry pulled a spider from his pocket.
“Engorgio!”
Under the spell, the spider’s body swelled rapidly.
Ron, terrified of spiders, instinctively recoiled, trying to put distance between himself and the creature.
“Imperio!” Harry cast again.
He made the spider hop around. “See, under the spell, it obeys my every command. That’s why the Imperius Curse is one of the three Unforgivables—it strips away free will, forcing the victim to obey the caster.”
“I’ve heard that years ago, loads of wizards claimed they’d been under the Imperius Curse to dodge punishment,” Harry told them. “Back in Voldemort’s heyday, it drove the Ministry mad trying to figure out who was truly controlled and who was acting on their own.”
With that, he vanished the spider with a flick of his wand.
The students’ faces paled. They’d never been so close to an Unforgivable Curse before.
Harry’s blatant demonstration was a first for them.
“Hogwarts has sheltered you lot too much!” Harry said, noticing their expressions. He rapped the table in frustration. “Not letting you learn about these spells—do they expect you to just sit there and wait to die when a Death Eater hits you with an Unforgivable, with no way to fight back?”
At his words, the students lowered their heads, lost in thought.
To be fair, the Imperius Curse was brutal, but Harry had a point.
If they didn’t learn to counter it now, were they supposed to wait for dark wizards to teach them the hard way after graduation?
Would those dark wizards show mercy then?
“I get it, Harry,” Cedric said, the first to snap out of it. “I understand what you mean—thank you.”
Harry’s expression softened slightly.
“I know you mean well, Harry,” Hermione added, and one by one, the others voiced their understanding of his radical teaching approach.
What else could they do? If Harry didn’t teach them, were they supposed to learn from dark wizards?
“I’m glad you’re not too thick-headed to get it,” Harry said, nodding with satisfaction. “Back to the Imperius Curse—here’s the thing: it can be resisted, with strong enough willpower. Not everyone can manage it, though.”
“But evidence shows that repeated, prolonged exposure to the curse can build resistance,” he continued. “What I need you to do is practice it on each other enough times to develop that resistance—so dark wizards can’t just take you over easily. Got it?”
“Got it!” they chorused.
Seamus raised his hand. “Professor, I’ve got a question.”
“Go ahead,” Harry said.
“What about the other two curses? You’re not gonna have us use those on each other too, are you?” Seamus asked, scratching his head.
Harry laughed and shook his head. “No way, we’re not going that far. I’ll demonstrate them a few times on targets, then teach you proper countermeasures—alright, I’ll start by showing you how to cast the Imperius Curse. Don’t use your own wands; stick to the secondhand ones I borrowed.”
He traced arcs in the air with his wand.
“See that? That’s the wand movement for the Imperius Curse,” Harry explained. “Now, repeat after me—Imperio!”
They mimicked his movements, practicing the incantation.
“Good, good,” Harry said, checking each one. “You’re all doing well—Ron, your pronunciation’s off. It’s Imperio, not Impero!”
Ron let out an “oh” and waved his wand again to practice.
Once they’d gotten the hang of it, Harry said, “Alright, pair up and start practicing. Cedric, you’re with Megan; Seamus, you’re with Neville; Ron, you’re with Hermione.”
They moved into position at his assignments.
“Okay, let’s get started—who’s first?” Harry asked.
“I’ll go!” Megan stepped forward, pointing her wand at Cedric. “Imperio!”
Cedric’s face froze for a moment, then he raised both hands in a crisp French military salute, his body swaying in a wave-like motion.
The group burst into laughter at his ridiculous antics.
Megan cackled, making Cedric tap-dance, then hop around like a zombie.
Soon, Cedric shook his head, breaking free of the spell.
“Merlin, that feeling,” he said, shaking it off. “So that’s what it’s like to be under the Imperius Curse? I think I’m starting to get the knack of it…”
“Want to go again?” Megan asked kindly.
Cedric drew his wand and, without a word, returned the favor with a spell of his own.
Under the curse, Megan hopped twice, then launched into a traditional Irish dance—Riverdance.
She nailed the tap steps, even throwing in some flair for the group.
After about a minute, Cedric released the spell.
“It’s definitely not pleasant,” Megan said, panting and clutching her side. “I kept hearing this voice in my head urging me to act, but I couldn’t figure out how to resist it… What scared me most was how much I liked being ordered around. It was almost addictive.”
“Really?” Hermione said skeptically. She was confident her willpower could shake it off quickly—especially if it was Ron casting it.
“Take this, Hermione!” Ron said eagerly, flinging the spell at her—he’d been dying to try it.
Under the Imperius Curse, Hermione grabbed a book from the table and started tearing it apart, looking disturbingly pleased.
After she shredded her notes, Ron made her repair them with a spell, then walk over to him.
“Sorry, Ron, I won’t snap at you anymore,” she said sweetly.
Ron grinned wide and turned to the group. “See that? That’s Hermione’s promise—”
He released the spell.
In that instant, Hermione’s hair puffed up like an explosion.
“We agreed no getting mad before we started!” Ron said in a rush.
That calmed Hermione’s temper a bit.
Truth be told, she wasn’t above a little fun—she just hated wasting books, especially since those were her painstaking notes. Luckily, this was the wizarding world, and under Ron’s control, she’d already repaired them.
For the sake of that last repair charm, she decided to let it slide.
“Alright, Ronald,” Hermione said, tapping her wand against her palm with a sly smile. “Isn’t it my turn now?”
Ron swallowed hard, puffing out his chest like a martyr facing execution. “Go ahead and curse me—I won’t even flinch, or I’m not Ron!”
“Imperio!”
Ron let out a goofy giggle, then started breakdancing in place.
It was hard to believe a wizard could mimic a robot so perfectly—better than many professional dancers.
“I won’t eat chicken legs, I won’t eat chicken legs…” Ron muttered, stuck in a loop like a broken record.
But on the seventh repeat, he broke free of the spell.
“I can’t not eat chicken legs!” he roared, fists clenched in fury.
After his outburst, he blinked, realizing he’d shaken off the curse.
“Huh?” he said, stunned.
Even he hadn’t expected his love for chicken legs to overpower Hermione’s Imperius Curse.
No one in the room had anticipated Ron being the first to break free.
Not even Harry, who’d assumed it’d be the older Cedric or the ever-competitive Hermione.
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
Comments
Ode
Chicken legs for the win😂
hector lyng
TFTC
