Okay so I'm back. A lot has happened including an incident that forces me to type with a lacerated thumb. Its been a rough year so far. But this fic is honestly fun and I have no intention on leaving it behind. Please enjoy! Leave a review before you go!
Harry went through the rest of the morning in a daze. His mind felt like it was stuffed with cotton. His thoughts whirled with the stress of the upcoming interview. He barely managed to transfigure his pillow into a rose and he couldn't even guess what they did in Charms. His head was filled with horrid daydreams of exactly how wrong this 'interview' would go.
Would they want to talk about Voldemort? Ask him how he defeated him? Would they be disappointed that he didn't know? Would they ask about his parents? Or about the Dursleys? Oh, Merlin he hoped not. The last thing he needed was for some wizarding reporter to go snooping around Privet Drive looking for an 'exclusive'. Aunt Petunia would have a conniption and Uncle Vernon would probably chase him down with the new Lincoln he bought this year.
Marcus didn't let him skip lunch, even though his stomach was flipping and twisting. "I'm just not hungry." Harry unsuccessfully tried to dodge the spoonful of beans that he dumped on his plate.
Marcus frowned. "Then eat toast. But you need to eat. I won't let you starve yourself for something as pedestrian as nerves."
Colby shoved Marcus playfully. "Leave off. He's nervous about the interview." The older boy leaned over the table to whisper. "Don't worry about a thing. My uncle is sending Audrey London to do the interview. She's a real sweetheart. She's got brass balls when it comes to Quidditch stats and getting the goods on players, but she knows this is just going to be a PR puff piece, so she'll stick with soft ball questions."
"Like what?"
"What you think about the other champions, what you think about the tournament, broad open-ended questions. Nothing personal. More than likely she'll be fluttering around Krum than any of the rest of you. Just let him take the lead. He knows the most about interviews out of all of you."
"Okay." Harry felt just a smidge better on that. "I thought it would be that Rita woman you and Marcus told me about."
"Skeeter?! No way in hell. She's a bloody weasel of a woman. I wouldn't inflict her on my worst enemy."
Marcus coughed pointedly. Colby gave him a disdainful side-eye. "Okay, maybe on my worst enemy. For an hour."
"Is she really that bad?"
"Worse. She's a puffed-up psycho who gives reporters all around a bad name."
Marcus snorted into his pumpkin juice. "Like reporters had a sterling reputation before she came along."
"Point taken; but shut up." Colby snarked and Marcus unrepentantly laughed, the light sound prompted Harry to join in.
Colby made a dramatic motion, clutching his heart. "Against me, the both of you! The betrayal! How cruel!" Harry clutched his stomach in giggles. The students surrounding them began laughing along with the three of them. Colby kept his dramatics up for a bit until everyone's laughter petered off. "But seriously Harry, you don't have to worry. Just let Cedric and the others help you out and everything will be fine. If you feel uncomfortable with a question, then just say so. London won't push the issue."
"Thanks Colby, I feel a lot better."
"If you feel better then eat."
"Marcus!"
(LOOK AT THIS LINE! THIS INDICATES A SCENE CHANGE!)
That afternoons Potions class was somehow more agonizing as usual. Malfoy had slunk to the back of the class and seemed determined not to make eye contact with anyone, least of all Harry. His usually impeccably styled hair was messy, shallow purple bags hung under his eyes, and his tie was sloppily knotted. Narrow grey eyes focused intently on the caldron in front of him, ignoring everyone.
Everyone seemed hell bent on seeing Harry's reaction to seeing Draco. At least judging by Lavender and Parvarti's eager expressions. Harry refused to react. He instead kept a carefully bland expression, just so the gossip mongers would lack ammunition.
As iridescent smog filled the dungeons Snape stalked up and down the aisles snapping out disparaging comments to the Gryffindor's and liberally allotting points to the Slytherins. Harry couldn't help but notice that Snape seemed to avoid Malfoy's now dreary corner of the classroom. The tension in the room was unbearable.
With a timid knock Colin Creevey peered in nervously to fetch him for the interview. By that point, Harry was swimming with relief to get away. Snapes' parting dart seemed lackluster without Malfoys' usual snicker to accompany it.
Rita Skeeter was nothing like Harry imagined. From the way Colby had described her, he assumed she'd be a squat, dour, beady eyed woman like his unlikable aunt Marge. Or a stringy, thin, pursed lipped woman like Aunt Petunia. A miserable type of woman who gleefully spend her life listening to keyholes for tidbits of gossip to spread around the neighborhood.
The reality of Skeeter was quite different.
Her hair was a bright happy yellow color and was glamorously coifed in tight curls around her head. Her features were sharp and narrow, emphasized by her dazzling eyewear. A colorful quill was obviously charmed to take notes and it seemed to dance around her head. Everything she wore was brightly colored and had a thick polyester shine. Harry could clearly see now, Rita Skeeter didn't just listen to gossip, she craved it, relished in it, and when necessary- invented it.
"I'm Rita Skeeter, it's a pleasure I'm sure!" She happily introduced herself looking around them. "Marvelous," She cooed in a sickly-sweet way that set Harry's teeth on edge, "Absolutely marvelous!" Her eyes were unnervingly focused on Harry. Before the Gryffindor could swallow past the foul taste sneaking up his throat, Cedric suddenly shifted his weight to the right. Casually using his own body to shield Harry. Viktor and Fleur swiftly joined him in putting Harry behind them. A physical wall between him and the reporters.
"Hello," Cedric smiled charmingly, "Mrs. Skeeter, was it? Colby told us his uncle sent Audrey London. So, may I ask why you are here, seeing as this isn't your assignment?" Cedric's voice was soft but his eyes were steely. The photographer's eyes flew open as he swung a nervous look at Skeeter. Skeeter gamely kept her grin although her eyebrow twitched. Cedric cheerfully ignored the tension he created as the two traded guilty glances.
Skeeter recovered quicker than the gaping photographer. "Poor miss London had a family emergency, I'm covering for her." Rita sneered only slightly off put by Cedrics' attitude. "And it's miss Skeeter." She corrected primly.
Fleur made a polite twitter. "So, you're not married?" the Frenchwoman quipped, "Well I suppose one would be aggressive in zeir career; provided zey have no distractions like husbands or paramours."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sweetheart." Skeeter looked cuttingly at Fleur.
"Of course, I know zhat zhe French accent can be a bit harsh for zhe Inglish to hear. By zhe way, I lofe your earrings Mamzelle."
"Oh," Skeeter looked please, she reached a long hand topped with green claws to fiddle with one of the enormous rhinestones dangling from her ears. "Why thank you, I-"
Fleur cut her off with a demure grin. "My maid wears a lot of fake jewelry too."
Harry was reminded of Aunt Petunia and the other housewives of Privet Drive and their passive aggressive, nasty conversation. Skeeter seemed furious for a quick moment, then she seemed to force her face into a thin professional smile.
"Let's just get on with the article. How about personal interviews?" Her boney hand whipped out between Cedric and Fleur, suddenly tugging Harry toward her by the wrist. She began to pull him toward the door. "Let's start with the youngest." She chirped over her shoulder.
"No!" Viktor's voice rang out as a bright blue spell splashed against the door. Each champion had their wands out and pointed at her. The Prophet photographer lined up a shot and took a blinding picture of the three champions.
Skeeter looked unimpressed. "Pardon me, but I was given full access to write the article." She sneered aggressively.
"No, you weren't. Audrey London was." Cedric growled, his expression stormy. "And the tournament agreed to an article overview and a group photo only. Personal interviews were not included in the arrangement."
Viktor scowled. "In addition, Ve three are adults." He gestured to the other two champions. "Ve can consent to interviews. He cannot." He pointed at Harry.
"He's a champion!" Skeeter seethed. Her false nails dug into Harry's arm. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. She had really sharp nails.
"He's a child." Fleur brushed past the other champions, "And we cannot let an adult walk away with a child zey don't know." Fleur sniffed as she glided close and gracefully detangled Harry from Skeeters' grip. "Who know what your intentions are." She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the older woman.
Skeeter looked shocked. "What!? What are you implying?! I would never!" Another flash startled her. She spun and screeched at the photographer. "Stop that Jeremy!"
Cedric stepped closer, ready in case Skeeter pulled her wand. "I believe we are done here. Please inform your employer that we will allow a group interview with miss London." Cedric promptly turned to the man; Jeremy. Completely stonewalling Skeeters helpless spluttering as she tried to salvage the interview. "Of course, Miss Skeeter will be asked to leave the premise and not return. It will be up to Harry and his guardians on whether or not to press charges."
"Charges?!" Skeeter shrieked. "For what?!"
Fleur gently pushed Harry's sleeve up, revealing the scratches from Skeeters nails. The pale bruises on his palms from this morning were nearly invisible when compared to the vivid red welts rising up along his wrist and forearm. Fleur shot a sour look at the older blonde "For zhe assault of zhe minor."
Viktor grunted "Und attempted kidnapping too." His dark eyes were narrowed.
"I do suggest you leave now Miss Skeeter. Before trespassing charges are added onto that." Cedric gave an insincere smile at the flustered reporter.
Skeeter made a furious face before she fled the room, her garish quill chasing after her.
"Um. I'll..I'll be sure to tell Mr. Colby what you said." Jeremy fervently said before fleeing after Skeeter.
The other champions cloistered around Harry. "You alright there?" Cedric asked. "I'm sorry about that. I wish we had been given a heads up that Skeeter was coming."
"Dat vas not a good first interview. I am sorry ve let her near you. Should not have happened." Viktor huffed, "That vas a terrible voman. I am hoping that da next reporter vill be more professional?" He directed his question to Cedric.
"Colby told me that Audrey London was doing the interview. As she's the sports correspondence for the Daily Prophet. I have no idea what Skeeter was doing here. She just writes a trashy gossip column. Colby's Uncle will sort this out I'm sure of it. She won't be coming back."
"I should 'ope not!" Fleur tossed her hair back. "Zat…tart! I 'ope zat zhe school will ban her from the grounds. Such a beast should never be allowed near zhee children!" The Frenchwoman still had a gentle hand on his wrist and swiftly looped her other arm around his shoulders. "Come now. Zhee 'ospital is zhis way, yes?" Fleur gallantly led the way out of the classroom to the hospital wing, keeping her arms around Harry.
"I'm fine, really." Harry unsuccessfully tried to wiggle away. "It's just a scratch." He shrugged against Fleurs firm arms around him.
"It's not just a scratch Harry, it's assault." Cedric stomped on his side. "That woman had no right to put her hands on you. The moment she did, she committed a crime."
"A report must be made." Viktor came up on his other side, next to Fleur. "Ve must document the wounds."
"I don't want to make a fuss. It's just a little scratch. She didn't mean to scratch me." Harry shook his head. He really didn't want to give the rumor mill anything else to talk about. It was humiliating.
"It's not a fuss to us, Harry. Please, just let us do this. I know it's annoying, but it'll make Viktor, Fleur, and me feel better. None of us should have let her get her hands on you." Cedric tilted his head down, looking sad. Bright blond curls fell over his eyes. "We all promised that we wouldn't let you get hurt in this tournament and it's not even the first task yet. Please, Harry?"
Harry sighed, his face flushing. This was so embarrassing. "Fine."
Less than an hour later, Collinsworth and Colby came striding through the hospital wing doors as Madam Pomphrey was putting away the salve. Collinsworth seemed upset, his dark eyes darting over the pink now blemish free skin of Harry's wrist. While Colby seemed almost giddy as he waved his hands around and near enough skipped toward them.
"Potter," He grinned, his cheeks flushed with glee. "I will give you anything you want if you file charges against that woman. Anything! You want a new broom? An ink set? Hell, I'll buy you a house-elf if you want one! If you press charges, the paper can finally get rid of her. It can even be a small civil suit. I don't care. Just, Please!" The Hufflepuff seemed manic as he fluttered around the cot Harry was on.
Harry flushed. "I don't know how to file charges." He looked down at the newly healed skin on his wrist. All this fuss over a little scratch? This was nothing compared to the bumps and bruises he collected over the summer.
Colby eagerly turned to Collinsworth, eyes wide and pleading. "!" he made a desperate squeak.
The dark haired boy smiled. "I'll take care of it. Or at least my brother will."
(LOOK AT THIS LINE! IT INDICATES A SCENE CHANGE!)
Maddux Collinsworth loved his job. Most ministry workers winced or made sympathetic sounds when they learned he worked in the Records department, which was commonly called the paper dungeon. They had no idea.
Sure, it wasn't action packed like the law and order department with their Aurors. And it didn't provide the hilarious anecdotes Arthur Weasley brought home from the muggles artifacts department.
But what it did have was power. He had power over every person who came in contact with the ministry. Of course, it was a subtle, unrecognized power. But it was significant. He had knowledge and access. Maximus had the ample opportunity to manipulate the strings of a person's life.
If they filed their taxes, he knew how much they paid and what they owed. He could see who had a visit to Saint Mungo's, an upcoming financial audit, an active investigation, or pretty much any action or activity that left a government paper trail.
Most his children understood his position and were all equally impressed with his ability to 'slither' into such an advantageous position. A thought that he sometimes rather resented as a Ravenclaw.
Lucius never understood his abilities. Not once in all the time he worked in the department had Lucius even considered the possibilities. The Malfoy Patriarch failed time and time again to use his position. Lucius relied on clumsy scheming and overly generous bribes to elevate his position. Frittering away both the Malfoys prestige and fortune. Maximus truly believed that he was one of the only ones in the world that new exactly how low the Malfoy fortune was falling. It was obvious that Lucius didn't even see to his own accounting, the way he and his wife spent their galleons.
But now that Marcus' had successfully gotten the Potter Heir to claim the Black family seat, he didn't have to kowtow to the Malfoys' for much longer. His sixth son Marcus was quite clever in cementing their place with the new Heir and even making moves to discredit the Malfoy's.
The Malfoy house would fall in both prestige and position soon. And when Lucius is left with nothing, but the shatter remains of his once great house he would look up and see Maddux. And he would regret ever thinking the Collinsworth family insignificant.
Okay good ending. I've really enjoyed crafting the Collinsworth family. And yes, all of their names start with M. So it might get a little confusing down the line but whatever. The next chapter will feature the Dursley family. It's gonna be the beginning of the end for a lot of people. So stay tuned and leave a review!