"Look at it from the bright side, Snape's surely not going to have a partner either," Ron added, seeing that his motivational speech was making Harry's frown deepen. He'd been trying to cheer him up for solid four minutes with little success.

"Thanks, that makes me feel loads better," Harry replied sarcastically, "maybe I should ask him to be my date then."

As soon as he said it, both their faces scowled as if they were in pain. Images neither of them ever wanted to think about appeared in their minds and Ron looked like he was going to be sick.

"Don't ever say that again," he warned Harry, his voice pitched an octave higher. Harry nodded enthusiastically in agreement. He was currently considering obliviating himself to forget the last ten seconds for good.

Seriously, who would've thought something so simple as a dance was this troublesome? The whole situation with Yule Ball was driving him crazy. McGonagall was on his heels lecturing Harry about the importance of traditions and how she wouldn't let him disgrace Godric Gryffindor with some oafish demeanour. Harry's several "I don't dance" statements were blatantly ignored.

"It's easy for you to say all this when Lavender pocketed you," Harry reproached, noticeably jealous of his best friend.

"Hey, nobody pocketed me. She just beat me to it, you know I would have asked her," due to the look Harry was giving him, he quickly added, "eventually."

"All I'm saying is that you've fought a dragon not even a week ago, how difficult is asking a girl out compared to that?" Ron raised his palms up in defence. "If Hermione wasn't so bitter you two could've gone together."

"She already has a partner," Harry reminded him, which visibly soured his best friend's mood.

"Yeah, right. Maybe Nearly-headless Nick took pity on her." Ron was less than fond of the sudden change of subject. The rejection Hermione bestowed him a few days ago still stung.

"I might as well take Hedwig with me if this keeps up," Harry complained some more but then they reached the Great Hall and the conversation was over. He really didn't need the whole school to know how pathetically low he'd sunk. Even Ginny seemed like a good choice all of a sudden, if only she wasn't taken by Neville.

Then, Ron's dress robes arrived and Harry's mood lightened. He even joked that if Ron didn't have Lavender, the two of them could've gone together and nobody would notice. The look on his friend's face was priceless.

OoOooOo

Moody limping away from a potions classroom and Snape's readiness to lash out at anyone who was a toe out of line quickly became the latest gossip among Gryffindor's students. Now that Harry and Ron were on speaking terms again, nothing felt better than voicing their mutual frustration with the greasy man.

"He took away over hundred points! That's a stretch even for Snape, don't you think?" Ron fumed. "You only dropped your knife, how's that worth ten points?!"

"Ron, I endangered the whole class with my carelessness. Didn't you see how the blunt knife bounced off the floor? One bad move and it would've sliced Malfoy in half," Harry lectured.

"Too bad it didn't, we would have one less problem to worry about. And if it bounced off Malfoy and hit Snape too…"

"That's just awful to say, Ronald. And gruesome," Hermione frowned at him.

"What? It's true. You can't possibly defend Snape now, he'd berated you because your potion was perfect. 'Ms. Granger, our undying overachieving star. Is this your mean of showing how everyone present is below you? Twenty points from Gryffindor,'" Ron imitated the hated professor while Hermione stubbornly ignored him, but her cheeks flushed slightly.

"I wonder what Moody was doing there. Anyone willingto go anywhere near Snape on their own accord ought to be shipped to St. Mungo's," Ron changed the subject when neither of his friends responded. The indirect suggestion about the questionable state of Moody's mind hung in the air.

"Maybe they had something to discuss," Hermione offered weakly, being at loss. Even she couldn't come up with a valid reason for the odd pair to meet up, whether it was an ambush from Moody or an intended encounter. "But I must agree that it is strange. Professor Snape has been avoiding Moody since his arrival…"

"He's bloody scared of him," Ron corrected her. "Makes me question why. Personally, I think Snape is more unpleasant to be around. Even Moody with his paranoid behaviour can't compare. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he yelled suddenly, startling his friends. Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry shoved him playfully with a snicker.

"I'm just getting worried," Hermione muttered, her face tightening into a thoughtful frown, "we know it's no coincidence Harry's name was chosen by the Goblet, and Dumbledore must have appointed Moody for Defence Against the Dark Arts position for a reason. And now, out of nowhere, Moody starts paying attention to Snape… " she trailed off.

There was a short pause before Harry spoke.

"You think Snape put my name into the Goblet?" he gaped at her widely. Ron wore a similar expression.

Hermione shook her head and rushed to explain.

"No, of course not. It's just that… maybe Moody is trying to find out who did it."

"Great, I can give him a list. Voldemort and Karkaroff are in a tie for first place," Harry replied energetically, acting as if he was searching his bookbag for the said list.

"Yeah, and Snape's second," Ron quickly added.

"We've already misjudged Professor Snape once, thinking he was trying to kill Harry when it was the opposite. We can't conclude anything hastily," Hermione summarized, but the boys could hear the doubt in her voice.

"It was you who mentioned it first," Ron pointed out sourly.

"I said no such thing, I merely pondered on Moody's actions," Hermione opposed.

"Anyway, it's not that far-fetched to assume Snape's actions…"

"I don't think it was Snape," Harry interrupted the pair, successfully extinguishing an upcoming argument. "He's been insufferable ever since I became a champion, but I think it's mainly due to the attention I've been getting," he cringed at the last part and then continued. "You know how he is obsessed with the whole 'I'm an arrogant celebrity, chasing new heights of fame every day.' He probably just cannot digest the whole situation, so I don't see a reason for him to initiate it."

Ron visibly paled during the speech but made a brisk recovery. He did not intend to bring up their recent quarrel and wallow in the past.

"Maybe he hoped you'd not make it beyond the first task…" he hypothesized. Hermione shot him a disapproving glance.

"I'm not sure, he did tell me some weird stuff right before I fought the dragon. Something about the tournament not being a game…" Harry shrugged, suddenly conscious of how persistently he defended Snape. Maybe he had suffered some long-term brain damage from the first task that he didn't know of.

"And he was right. You should start working on the golden egg, Harry. The second task is only going to be more dangerous."

Count on Hermione to turn every conversation into a lecture.

"Jeez, that lifted my spirits," Harry muttered sullenly. The last thing he currently wanted to think about was the tournament. He had time until February to crack the mystery of the egg, so why the rush?

"Actually, Harry should focus on finding his dance partner, now that someone insists on having a date already. Your sulking had made this difficult for both of us, Hermione," Ron hurried to Harry's aid, changing the topic to the second worst one. Harry didn't want to talk about the tasks but Yule Ball wasn't much better, given he was still without a girl.

Maybe he should consider performing some spotlight-stealing solo dance. McGonagall would surely appreciate it.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself, I already have a partner-"

"I suggest we keep an eye on Moody, maybe he's got an idea who's behind all this. I'll ask him tomorrow, though I doubt he'll tell me anything," Harry stirred the conversation back on the original track, not minding how rudely he interrupted Hermione. They experienced the talk so many times and each time Hermione stubbornly remained mysterious about her partner that Harry gave up on finding out who it was. And frankly, he didn't care that much.

"Right, you have those tutoring sessions," Ron realized, similarly dropping the Yule Ball topic. "Hang in there," he patted Harry comfortingly who nodded once in response.

Moody made it his personal mission to teach Harry how to throw off Imperius. One could complain about special treatment - as other classmates didn't get extra lessons on being exposed to an Unforgivable for a prolonged time - but Moody argued it'd be a dishonour if the Boy-Who-Lived fell victim to the curse. Gryffindors still took turns in their normal defence classes and attempted to resist the Imperius, but it was becoming progressively exhausting. Harry doubted anyone would be interested in extra tutoring on this matter.

The first extracurricular class was tomorrow and Harry wasn't too eager to attend it. He himself didn't have much of a choice, Moody just announced to him the schedule of their sessions without providing any clarification. At least Hermione's words about this being Dumbledore's plan brought him some comfort. Someone volunteered to train him and Harry wasn't foolish enough to reject such an offer.

"It's going to be alright," Hermione poked him gently, seeing how Harry's face clouded with concern. They reached their Transfiguration classroom and the conversation died down.

OooOooO

Harry was late for his self-study period. Moody kept him longer than scheduled and now he was racing the corridors with a foggy mind and shaky legs.

Spending almost an hour under the Imperius wasn't as easy as those couple of minutes during their normal classes. Harry was disoriented when the curse was finally lifted. Moody shoved him down onto a chair, mumbling incoherently, but Harry caught the disappointed tone and his shoulders slumped.

In the following moment, he did the mistake of asking for a drink and in return received a lengthy lecture about never accepting anything consumable from strangers.

He left Moody's office thirsty and in a miserable state of mind.

Panting and still feeling a bit adrift, Harry reached his classroom and steeled himself for what was to come. Of course it had to be Snape supervising the self-study that week, the only week Harry had been late. If he didn't know better, he'd suspect the hated professor to be the orchestrator of the situation, but even Harry's hazy judgment ruled it a ridiculous assumption.

He tried to slip in unnoticed, but the heavy wooden door creaked so loudly that even Hagrid in his hut must have heard it. Cursing under his breath, Harry's cheeks reddened when he entered the room and saw all eyes on him.

"Err, sorry I'm late," he announced to no one in particular, completely disregarding Snape's infuriatingly burning look. The man was going to reprimand him either way, whether Harry acknowledged him or not wouldn't make a difference.

Harry found Hermione and Ron in a corner of the classroom but before he could briskly join them, Snape lived up to his standard and started his belittling.

"I didn't allow you to sit down, Mr. Potter," his silky voice warned.

Harry turned around slightly bewildered. Snape was towering above him like a dark shadow, radiating nothing but heavy tension. They weren't in the dungeons and yet the air around Harry turned ice cold.

"Sir?" He asked cautiously. The whole Gryffindor class was paying them close attention and Harry was glad they didn't share self-study with Slytherins.

"Despite the lack of communication on your part, I've managed to decipher your message. Worry not, since your studies hold such little value to you, there's no need for you to be present in this class. In fact, I require you to leave," Snape growled with malice glinting in his eyes.

Harry shuddered as if he was stung, anger flaring up inside his chest. What message?!

"When did I-" Harry started but Snape raised one of his hands in a silencing gesture.

"I believe my instructions were quite clear, assuming your comprehension skills are above the ones of a four-year-old. Or do I really need to spell it out for you?" he snarled.

The room was dead silent, nobody laughed at the Potions Master's ridicule. Harry felt very grateful towards his classmates.

"I just had an extra lesson with-" he attempted to explain but was cut off again.

"Even if it was tutoring in punctuality that you had, and Merlin know you could use some, it would not excuse your tardiness. I teach students who are willing to learn, and you, Potter, fall far from them."

You don't even teach this class, it's called self-study for a reason!

Harry wanted to scream, but the words were caught in his throat, forming a thick lump.

It occurred to him that Snape hasn't chewed him out in a while. It's been peaceful since the first task, and by looking at the man, Harry could tell he was enjoying himself. Almost as if he was waiting all this time for Harry to slip up.

"Coming to a lesson late without showing even a modicum of regret, uttering a half-hearted apology and then assuming you're permitted to do as you please? Your entitlement knows no limits." Snape continued in one breath.

It was a wonder how much the professor could say without breathing, Harry pondered idly.

A part of him wanted to walk out, away from the watchful eyes and Snape's rage, but that would make the professor win and Harry wasn't so generous to grand the man the pleasure. His stubbornness was fuelling him to continue the quarrel with Snape.

"Professor, Harry had a class with Professor Moody-"Hermione's attempt to help him was similarly futile.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger, for meddling in business that scarcely concerns you," Snape's eyes flicked to the curly-haired girl whose expression twisted in outrage.

"Potter, you've successfully disturbed your classmates far longer than necessary, either vacant this room or I make you," Snape pressed and his voice dropped low.

As if I'm the one blowing the case out of proportion and causing a scene, Harry thought bitterly.

He could see the professor's patience was water thin now. Hermione's comment about Moody aggravated the situation further.

Harry wanted to argue more, but the sentence, which was about to roll out of his mouth dissolved when he noticed the looks Dean and Neville were gifting him.

His will deflated.

The Gryffindor boys had the word concern written across their faces and Harry couldn't quite pit-point why. It made him stop in his tracks and forced him to think and reevaluate his actions. His head began to cool down.

Are they worried about me plummeting the house score further? Or scared of the possible punishment Snape could bestow upon the whole house?

…maybe they're just concerned about me? A small voice nudged him.

Harry didn't stay around to find out the true reason, he just sent a last angry glare at the hated professor, grabbed his bag and theatrically marched out of the class. If it was just him and Snape, he'd not give up so easily.

The door behind him slammed loudly, bringing Harry a spec of satisfaction.

OooOooOoO

Harry had never seen so many students stay over for Christmas, the castle was full of life and the festive atmosphere was highly contagious. Only the most sardonic individuals resisted it, namely Snape.

While teachers like Professor Flitwick let them free roam during the last school week, the Potions Master announced an exam from antidotes. Harry had never heard Ron utter so many complaints in one afternoon.

It came as no surprise that Harry had to participate in the exam as well, despite being pardoned as a champion. Snape silently handed him the test and Harry accepted it with a challenging look, but the only thing that was challenged in the end was Harry's little knowledge of the subject. He landed himself another T and Snape's smug attitude.

The professor asked Harry if he intended to become a troll himself with his current performance and Harry replied that he gladly would if it meant he no longer had to study potions.

Ron had to usher him from the classroom before Snape lashed out at him. The day got progressively worse from there.

OoOoOoOooO

Jump.

Harry frowned, but his facial muscles didn't move. Why was he supposed to jump again? Harry saw no purpose in the action, yet a powerful desire to do it swept over him.

Jump. Jump. Jump!

The voice sounded urging and Harry knew the feeling of bliss and satisfaction it would bring him if he listened to the instruction. Yes, for once, he'd be praised if he did as he was told.

He knew he failed the moment the curse was lifted. He was out of breath, panting heavily, his legs shaking from the prolonged jumping exercise. It always felt strange to regain control after the Imperius, everything was suddenly so sharp, so bright, so loud, so overwhelming.

"Sit," Moody instructed him, nodding towards a familiar chair. Harry did so immediately, wondering if it was an after-effect of the Unforgivable.

"You could've thrown it off, Potter, why didn't you? What's stopping you?" Moody started his interrogation and Harry sighed inwardly. The lessons were becoming more and more tiresome.

"I don't know, sir," his usual reply followed.

"Most people never succeed in beating the Imperius. You, Potter, are not most people. Why aren't you using your strength?" the one-eyed professor pressed tightly. It was clear Moody wasn't impressed with the progress (or lack of it) throughout the week.

Like Snape, Moody decided to kill any remains of Harry's Christmas spirit when their Imperius classes became more intense. Harry didn't dare to dream about taking a break from these lessons, nevermind the Yule Ball was behind the corner.

"Maybe I'm not as strong as others think," Harry confessed quietly, horrified at how pathetic he sounded.

"Nonsense," Moody waved him off, visibly annoyed, "you hesitated before you went on a jumping rampage. The thought of questioning your action crossed your mind but you disregarded it. Why?"

Why indeed? Harry thought sourly. 'Oh, it's because I enjoy being controlled. The gratifying feeling that comes from obeying is something I've never felt so I'm chasing the validation it gives me.' Yeah, that probably wasn't the answer Moody was expecting.

"Sometimes, I think I have it, but then it slips from me," Harry explained lamely instead.

Moody made a grunting sound in acknowledgement and then stood up. He started pacing around the room with commotion.

"You're not resisting it because the consequences aren't dire. Would you be so prone to Imperius if I ordered you to harm someone else? To kill? That's what the curse is used for, that's why it's Unforgivable. It wouldn't be considered dangerous if it only made its victims jump and dance against their will."

Sudden dread enveloped Harry's chest, creating pressure on his lungs. What Moody said wasn't anything new, yet Harry saw what was implied. Would he feel the satisfaction of listening to the instructions if it meant hurting another person? The way his stomach contracted anxiously gave him a definite answer.

No.

"That's more like it," Moody nodded approvingly, seeing the determined expression on Harry's face. "Remember what you're feeling now, we'll proceed with the lesson tomorrow. Time's up for today."

OoOooOoO

"Potter! Is it true you're still without a dance partner? Did Weasel's dress robes turn you down as well?" Malfoy approached him in a hallway with other Slytherins to witness the spectacle.

"Why, Malfoy, are you interested? Sorry to disappoint but I'm not a big fan of green," Harry replied briskly, at once aware that if Malfoy knew about his Yule-Ball-date-struggle, the whole school knew.

He groaned as his deduction turned out to be true a few hours later.

After the encounter with Malfoy, when the blonde boy paled visibly from rage, sputtering incomplete sentences ("me… asking you?! Interested? Whose interested…? Potter, you- you'll pay for this!") Harry was ambushed by three Hufflepuff girls in the evening, all of them asking if he'd go to the ball with them.

Harry was so stunned he blurted out a startled "no!" and retreated to the common room. There, he found his awestruck best friend, who was freshly without a dance partner for the ball. Hearing Ron's story about asking Fleur Delacour to be his date would be funny if Lavender wasn't on the other side of the room, glaring daggers at them the whole time.

According to Ron, she got offended, cancelled her dance proposal and went to Seamus instead. Harry wondered if the time was right to remind Ron they could now go together, given their shared single status and Ron's formal attire, and then said it regardless. The remaining colour drained from his best friend's face.

To salvage what could still be salvaged, Harry secured the Patil sisters for both of them the night before the Yule Ball, successfully winning Ron's favour back.