Chapter 11

The Prophet's Grudge

Upon exiting the locker room, Harry immediately became aware of a noise. It was similar to the sound heard when a celebrity gets out of a limousine, or a favored performer walks out onto a stage. It was the sound of people…many people.

The press.

Harry looked around at Ron, who was also staring in the direction of the noise. He looked back at Harry and shrugged. "Wish I could do a Disillusionment Charm," he said apologetically, and Hermione's voice answered from behind them.

"I can do it." She jogged up to them and aimed her wand at Harry's chest. "Dissimulo!" she commanded, and Harry felt the dripping coldness that he remembered from Moody's charm engulf him again. Ron looked him over, or tried to. "Well done," he commented appreciatively.

"Now you should be okay," stated Hermione, moving past them, "provided someone exceptionally observant doesn't notice and cast a Revealing Charm on you."

They quickly approached the entrance of the hall. Coming into view of the waiting reporters, Harry came to a momentary standstill. There are so many…, he thought to himself. There were perhaps twenty reporters, but it seemed like a lot more to Harry.

Hermione edged past him and whispered, "Grab my elbow, so I know where you are."

Harry obeyed, and she led him cautiously along the edge of the crowd. They were about halfway through, when someone yelled, "Revelio!"

Harry could tell from the crowd's reaction that he was now clearly visible. "Did you really think that you could sneak by us?" a nearby reporter sneered. "If you two," this was directed at Ron and Hermione, "are here, then he is too."

The other reporters began shouting out questions. "Are you two now Seeker and Keeper for the Cannons?" someone asked.

Ron held up his arms for silence, and the media quieted. "Yes, we are now on the team as Keeper and Seeker," he answered. No sooner had he finished than they started hurling questions again.

"Did you jinx the Beaters broom?"

"Why did you curse the hopeful Chasers' brooms?"

"What did you do to the other Seeker?"

Harry wasn't surprised to hear that they already had some knowledge about the accidents that had occurred. However, he was disgruntled to hear that they were already pointing fingers at him, saying not only had he caused the mishaps, but he had also caused them intentionally.

"—explain the Competing Seeker's demise?"

"—know what happened to the Chasers' brooms?"

"—in league with whoever sabotaged the Beater's broomstick?"

The reporters had closed all around them, leaving no room for escape. Feeling slightly claustrophobic, Harry was just about ready to scream at them to shut up and leave him alone. But someone beat him to it.

"Enough!" someone with a heavy accent shouted. "That is enough! Be gone! Shoo!" he could see people shifting as someone plowed through. Seconds later, a very familiar face emerged. "A noisy pack, aren't they?" he commented, and Harry could only grin wryly in response. Viktor Krum face smirked, before darkening a little as he turned to face the crowd. "No more questions!" he said. "These people haf had enough excitement for a day, and vant to go home and rest." He began to shoulder his way through the reporters, and glanced over his shoulder. "Follow!" he commanded, and Harry and his friends obeyed.

They managed to get to the back of the crowd, and would have walked away if a voice hadn't caught Harry's attention.

"Harry!" called the voice, and Harry's heart sank as he recognized it. He turned to face none other than Rita Skeeter.

"Long time no see," she said, smiling sweetly.

"There's a reason for that," answered Ron rudely, and Harry asked brusquely, "What do you want?"

The smile on Rita's face had faded slightly at Ron's reply, but fully returned as she heard Harry's question. That smile, Harry knew, could mean nothing good.

What is your relationship with Hermione Granger?" she inquired, and Harry had to stop himself glancing at Hermione. Ron continued to glare at Rita, as Harry responded, She's one of my best friends. She was with me to the end."

"Best friends, eh? Do you love her?" This time, Ron's eyes darted to Harry, then back to the reporter. Harry said in an icy tone, "Of course I love her. She's like a sister to me."

"A sister?" echoed the blond reporter, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Hmmm…Are you sure it isn't something more?"

Making an attempt at imitating confusion, Harry asked in what he hoped was a bland tone, "What do you mean by that?" It came out a bit sharper than he had intended, but he didn't think it was noticeable.

"There isn't something deeper between you two?" This time, Harry couldn't resist looking back at Hermione, and she stepped forward.

"Harry and I are close friends," she said firmly. "Nothing more." For some reason, Harry felt a pang in his heart on hearing those words, even though he was sure she was lying. Harry could tell from the look on Rita's face that she shared the same suspicions. Still, he wasn't prepared for her next question.

"Are you lovers?" she asked casually, and every noise around them went silent. Harry's breath caught; then he was right in her face. "Care to say that again?" he asked quietly. Rita showed no sign of fear.

"Touched a nerve, did I?" she said, then raised her voice. "You didn't answer my question."

"Ask it again, and maybe I'll answer," said Harry softly.

Are…you…lovers?" she said slowly, as though talking to a retarded person.

Harry inhaled, then noticed his hands were balled into fists, and shaking. "You have some nerve," he murmured to Rita, then took a step back. He turned to leave, but she spoke again.

"Do you kiss?" she pressed. "Do you share loving touches?"

Harry stiffened, then wheeled to face her, his every demeanor emanating outrage.

"What kind of question is that?" he hissed. The air around him began to simmer. A small breeze picked up, and Hermione shuffled her feet nervously behind him. She was following every sign…and knew something was about to happen.

"A very good question," answered Rita smugly. "And I notice that you still have not answered my questions."

Fury was building up inside of Harry, and he didn't try to suppress it. Hermione stood next to him and whispered, "Cool it, Harry. She isn't worth it." He took a deep breath, looked at her and nodded. He started to step away, then looked back as a hand gripped his arm.

"Answer my questions," Rita demanded. Harry growled. Would she ever quit?

"Let go of me," he snapped, and she released him, but quickly added, "Do you sleep together?" Harry gaped at her. She was toeing his line of restraint, and about ready to cross. He leaned toward her, until his face was only inches from hers. The air around him glowed a faint golden sheen, and he thought he could detect a sudden rise in temperature.

"Don't—ever—ask—me—that—again," he said slowly and deliberately.

She smiled. "What's the matter, Harry?" she asked mockingly. "A coward, are you?" then she glanced at Ron, who was watching them intently. "Or are you a liar as well?"

That was the last straw. A wave of golden energy exploded from him, hurling everyone backward except Hermione. There was a series of flashes as reporters began taking pictures. They want proof of this, Harry thought, and his anger surged again. His abruptly-enhanced sight, as he looked at a camera lens, showed him that his eyes were blazing with a golden light. There was another flash of light as the camera took his picture, recording the image and its illuminated gaze. Irritated beyond belief, Harry focused on the camera. Rita, noticing the object of his concentration, said quickly, "Shield the camera!" Her cameraman immediately pulled out a wand and said, Protego!" just in time. A second later, there was a series of loud cracks as cameras everywhere either exploded or were crushed. Rita looked around, then spoke to Harry with a mischievous smirk. "Thanks for your time." She grabbed her cameraman's arm and Disapparated.

A movement caught his attention, and he spun to see Hermione slowly backing away, her eyes wife with fear. As though this sight were a switch, his rage vanished.

H e spun again to face the damage he had inflicted. Reporters began vanishing, Apparating to other, safer places. "Er—sorry," he said belatedly, and a couple of nearby camera people threw him disgusted looks before disappearing.

"Come on," Hermione said impatiently, approaching him from behind. When he didn't move, she sighed grabbed his hand, and pulled. He finally walked along behind her. Musing, he glanced down at his hand, his fingers in Hermione's grasp. Without thinking, he slid his hand further into her grip, then intertwined his fingers with her. She immediately stopped pulling, turning to look at him with a confused expression on her face.

"Harry—what—?" she asked, and Harry promptly let go of her hand. "I'm sorry," he blurted, running his hand through his hair. "I—I—," He was so distracted by everything, he wanted to stop thinking and just fall asleep, shutting the whole world outside. Well, maybe he'd let Hermione in… "I just—I dunno—it felt right," he finished lamely, then realized, too late, that Ron was right next to him.

He stared at Ron, who broke the awkward silence with : "Are you feeling alright, mate?" Harry laughed mirthlessly. He was having one hell of a day… "I'm not sure," he admitted, and Ron inspected his face closely. "With everything that's gone on today, I suppose you have the right to go bonkers," he muttered, then looked away. Harry followed his gaze and found that Krum was standing a little ways away, an amused expression on his face.

"That vos sumthing, Potter," he commented, and Harry wondered for a few seconds before realizing that Krum was referring to his episode with the reporters.

"That doesn't freak you out?" Harry asked with a shaky grin.

"It takes a lot to make me… 'freak out', you would say?" He paused then added, "Such effects, they impress me. That vos a defensive reaction, a very strong vun, and I admire that."

He looked at his watch, then said, "I should go now, I must meet my father. I vill see you at the match." He started to walk away, but Harry called to him, "What match?"

Krum looked back at him, and raised an eyebrow. "Our first match of the season. You did not know?"

Harry shook his head, then asked, "Why are you facing us, instead of a better team?"

Krum chuckled and answered, "Because this isn't for competition, it is simply for pleasure!"

"Viktor," Hermione, Is that a new ring?" There was indeed a ring on the middle finger of Krum's left hand. He looked down at it, and his face darkened. "Yes and no," he answered, and as he looked at Hermione, there was a brooding look in his eyes. "It is my first time varing it, so it is new to me. However, as it once belonged to my fallen brother, it is also old."

"Your brother…is fallen?" asked Hermione, her voice thick with emotion. Ron threw her a dark look, but the film of tears in her eyes prevented her from seeing it. "I'm so sorry…"

"It is done and gone," Viktor told her gently. "Veep not for him."

He looked at Harry. "Until the match, then," he said, and walked away.

Harry was staring after him when someone called, "Harry! HEY, HARRY!"

He turned and spotted Cho Chang hurrying toward him. "Guess what, Harry?" she said excitedly. Harry was pretty sure he knew, and said, "You're on too?"

She nodded and squealed, "Yes! Can you believe it?"

"Oh,sure," answered Harry. He knew she was an excellent flyer, but he really didn't want her on his team. Their friendship was rocky at best, and he didn't think it would be in the team's best interest to share it with her. But they had both made it, so there was nothing he could do. And she was a good flyer…

"So…," Cho said, trying to fill the silence. Harry wasn't in the mood for idle chatter, so he cut her off.

"Er, Cho, I gotta be somewhere," he said, then embroidered on the lie. "I'm late as it is, so I better go…"

"Oh, okay. Erm, see you at practice then," she said, sounding slightly disappointed. Harry started to feel bad, but Ron nudged him and whispered, "Let's get going, we've hung around long enough." Harry allowed Ron to lead him away.

"When's the match?" Harry asked suddenly.

Ron looked at him. "In two weeks."

Harry's heart sank. "Oh no…"

Ron shrugged. "Well, I can only say practice, practice, practice…"

***

The next morning, Harry was met with a nasty surprise.

In the wee hours of the morning, Harry was jolted awake by the sound of knocking. As soon as he had surfaced from his dreams, the sound faded. After listening for a few seconds, he decided it was his imagination and put his head back down to doze. A second later, he heard knocking again. Groggily rising, he put on his slippers to protect his feet from the cold and shuffled downstairs, hurrying when the knocks resounded earnestly. Trying to shake the last of the sleep from his head, the job was done for him when he opened the door to find no less than six Aurors standing on his doorstep. Before he could find words, the nearest spoke.

"Mr. Potter, we'd like a word with you. May we come in?"

"Er, sure," said Harry completely bewildered.

He stood aside and let them file through, then lead them up to the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?" he inquired politely, and the same wizard who had spoken below said briskly, "No thank you. Have a seat."

Harry went cold at these words. Politely refusing a refreshment was nothing in itself, but the manner in which the wizard spoke, combined with the airs of the Aurors along with him, told him that their business here was very serious indeed.

What's—?" he began, but was interrupted by a feminine voice from behind him.

"Harry?" asked Hermione; then she spotted the Aurors. "What's wrong? What are they doing here?"

"Ms. Granger, I presume?" asked another Auror, a witch with straight, long black hair.

Hermione merely nodded, and the Auror stepped forward to shake her hand. "Hi, I'm Auror Katie Alome. And this," she nodded to the burly first Auror, "is Mac."

"And you're here because…?" prompted Hermione, and Alome's face fell. I'm afraid the matters that bring us here are very dark."

"Meaning?" asked Harry, thinking inwardly, Not again.

"Mr. Potter, take a look at this picture." Alome handed him a photograph. He looked at it and was instantly repulsed. There was Rita Skeeter sprawled in a chair with an incredible amount of blood on her torso. The source was obvious: her throat was cut open from ear to ear. Harry tried not to gag.

"Dark Magic," he muttered, offering her the picture.

"Correction, Mr. Potter," said the first wizard tersely. "That was caused using a muggle weapon."

"You mean…?" Harry began, but the wizard continued, "And we found this as well."

He drew a wand. Harry recognized it at once. "Isn't that—?" he asked and shoved his hand into his pocket. He quickly pulled out his real wand and looked from it to the copy in confusion. "Someone duplicated my wand?" he asked finally.

The wizard reached for Harry's wand. May I?" he asked, and Harry handed it held the wands side by side and extended them so they could be compared by all. There was no discernibla difference between the two. Mac then rubbed the other one and sparks flew from the end. "All the appearances of a true wand, and this one, to boot. Why is that?" he turned his gaze upon Harry, who shrugged uncomfortably.

"So if the killer had a wand, why didn't they use magic?" wondered Harry aloud, and looked at Hermione. She, unlike him, seemed to know a bit about what was going on, for her face had gone white, her lips thin, and she was slowly shaking her head. "You recognize this design, Granger?" asked Mac.

"Not Harry," she said. "Not Harry. Never Harry."

"Your confidence is touching, Granger. But it may be in vain," murmured Mac. He then focused on Harry. "As I said, it has all the appearances of a real wand." He held up the fake wand. "But, in fact, it is not." He grasped one end and slowly pulled. A second later, to Harry's astonishment, the wood began to move, revealing an unmistakable glint of metal. His surprise turned to ice-cold fear as he realized what he was looking at, and its further implications. The display came to a head in about two seconds, when the cover came free of the hidden blade. "An assassin's blade," stated Mac flatly. He looked at Harry with a grim expression. "That's why he didn't use magic."

"Why do you say 'he'?" asked Hermione sharply. She glared at him.

"You'll see," he said shortly.

"So now is the point at which we begin to ask questions," said Katie, looking from Hermione to Harry. "Starting with 'who'." She began to pace. "We figure out who by putting together what we know about them from looking at the situation. One, they used a muggle-style weapon. Two, they used a muggle technique." She turned to face Harry. "Now, who do we know that has the know-how to effectively choose and use a muggle weapon?"

He offered nothing, so she went on. "Also, the murder weapon isn't a generic design. It was crafted to imitate another model. And of all models to look at, why was yours chosen?" She looked him in the eye. "We're assuming that every factor of the weapon and procedure was calculated, having no evidence to the contrary."

Harry finally spoke. "You're accusing me?" he asked. His mind raced, searching for any purchase for argument against their case.

"We're investigating you, Mr. Potter. There's a difference."

"You, the ministry, actually believe Harry Potter took out that woman?" came Ron's disbelieving voice from the doorway.

"You would be Ronald Weasley?"

"That's right." He walked in, his eyes going from face to face. "Cunning and skilled? Smart enough to outfox Death Eaters and bring them in? Specially trained by the Ministry to be the best? And you seriously believe that Harry Potter went and slaughtered a poor defenseless woman? She was a witch, but Harry isn't heartless. Is this how you look at the savior of the wizarding world? She's written loads of rubbish on him, and never has he done a thing. He hasn't so much as sent a responding owl to her. So the question for you is: why now?"

The Aurors shuffled their feet. "Mr. Weasley, we aren't so eager to prosecute Mr. Potter as you make us out to be," protested Mac. "We searched very carefully for any evidence that discounted Harry, but only found more reasons to look at him."

He pulled out a couple more pictures. Fingerprints and footprints match," he said, showing the comparisons. Harry glimpsed the photo of Rita again, and an odd thought occurred to him.

Which hand was that done with?" he asked, pointing to the gash in her neck.

If I were to guess," said Katie, studying it, "I would say it was done from behind, and with the left hand."

"I'm right-handed," Harry proclaimed, raising his right hand. And, he added, peering at the footprints, the distance between those prints makes it look like the stride was much smaller than mine. Almost as though someone with a different size, but using my body, did this."

Mac cleared his throat. "Are you suggesting someone used Polyjuice Potion and masqueraded as you?" he asked. Harry nodded. Mac frowned, then said, Well, these are interesting points, but not enough. So, Mr. Potter, if you would—"

"No!" exclaimed Hermione, standing so fast that her chair fell over backwards. She ignored it, while Ron and Harry gaped. "Please, no. Just accept that he is innocent!"

"Unless you have something else to contradict…" said Katie, and Hermione faltered, then visibly steeled herself. "I do. But it's a personal account—" she didn't need to say more. Mac looked toward the other Aurors, before searching his robes. "Ah, here's some Veritaserum," he said finally, pulling out a small bottle filled with liquid. Hermione eyed it apprehensively, then sighed in consent.

Here," and she took the bottle. Pouring a few drops on her tongue, a blank look crossed her face. Mac focused his gaze on her face, and asked, "Hermione Jane Granger, you have evidence that proves Harry Potter did not kill Rita Skeeter?"

"I do," she answered, then continued, "I know he did not kill her, because it would have been impossible for him to do anything overly active without my knowing."

"How so?" asked Mac.

"I have been watching him lately using a branch of mind magic called Advigilency—"

she suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth, and Harry wondered what she was hiding. After a moment of watching her, Mac asked, "And you were watching him all of last night?"

"Subconsciously, because—" Again she slapped her hand over her mouth. Mac's eyes narrowed. "Ms Granger," he said, "would you please remove your hand from your mouth."

Hermione stared at him. "She gave you an answer," Ron said angrily, but Mac ignored him. "Remove your hand," he repeated. Hermione flushed, and her eyes begged him to stop. Harry felt sorry for her, and suddenly, he reached out with his will and neutralized the potion within her. Hermione's eyes cleared. Mac noticed, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Mac," said Katie, "she's given you her answer. I think we can stop now."

Mac gazed at Hermione for a moment, before turning away. "Very well," he said, and pulled out another bottle. Abruptly, he paused then looked at Hermione. "Ms. Granger," he said tensely, "Are you still under the influence of Veritaserum? Because if you aren't…" he gestured with the bottle. "This is highly toxic to anyone who doesn't have Veritaserum in their system."

Both Hermione and Harry looked at the bottle in fear. Mac offered the bottle to her, and she hesitated, then slowly reached out to take it. Harry suddenly remembered the rporters, and their cameras. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself, but Hermione's life was on the line…

Hermione's fingers were a couple of inches away from the bottle when it exploded. She was able to snatch her hand away quickly enough that she was unharmed, but Mac wasn't so lucky. Looking disgustedly at the cuts in his hand, he shook the glass from it, then pulled out his wand and aimed it at the maimed member. It healed instantly, then asked the room at large, "Anyone else with an removed her hand for a second and said, "We have some in the pantry I think."

Mac looked at her closely and said, "All right. I think we can go then—"

But Katie turned to Harry and said, with emotion shining in her eyes, "Harry, you may not believe me, but I'm glad that you guys were able to cast some doubt upon this case. It's not our fault that we have to do this. "We don't discriminate; we look wherever the evidence directs us. That's what the Ministry pays us to do."

"That's easy enough for you to say," said Harry. "You realize that this is the third time I've been accused of a crime I didn't commit?"

"Which brings up another point. Even though you're innocent, that means that there's still a criminal out there somewhere. People want us to eliminate their fears, and settle scores. To have no one to blame…well, that's very uncomfortable. You have to understand, Harry, they're only human. We're only human."

"And you have to be human at my expense?" Harry asked pointedly. Katie frowned, and opened her mouth to argue further, but Mac said, Kate, we've got to get back and fill out some papers on this." He looked at Harry. "We'll take everything you have said into consideration. Quite frankly, I think there's really no case against you anymore." He headed to the door, and allowed all the other Aurors to file past him. He faced Harry and his friends.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley…good day." And he left.

Hermione waited, then slumped. "Thank goodness."

***

"Wonder when they'll close the case?" murmured Harry over his glass of orange juice.

Ron swallowed a mouthful of toast and said, "It'll take a couple of days. That's what Dad says."

"Well, they better not search for more evidence to stick you with," Hermione said crossly. She looked at the window. "Owl incoming." She got up and went to open the window. "Oh. Fabulous. The Daily Prophet."

"Give me that." Ron held out his hand. Hermione flipped through the paper before depositing it upon Ron's palm. "Oh," said Ron, glancing at the front before flipping through to another section. As he scanned it, his face darkened, and he said, "Well, they don't treat you too kindly in this, mate. Full of pictures. Makes you out to be some sort of berserker-type dealie."

"Worth a look?" asked Harry, and Ron said, "Nope."

Do they mention Rita's murder?"

"Er—" Ron turned to another page. "Yeah." He began to read.

"Do they mention me?" inquired Harry, but Hermione shook her head. "There's nothing definite, and there's considerable doubt, so they won't have put your name in. Suspects, yes, but no names mentioned."

"Right," said Ron distractedly. He returned to the first article, and then a look of shock and anger crossed his face.

"What's up?" asked Harry, and Ron glared at him fiercely.

"You gave George that broom?" he growled through clenched teeth.

"How the hell did they find out about that?" Harry spat.

"Then it's true?"

"No! The person just signed the note with my name."

"And did he know that?" questioned Ron.

"I told him, but he went ahead and used the broom anyway," stated Harry.

"Who would want to do that to George?" wondered Ron.

"I don't know. I'm as upset as you are about his accident. But I didn't cause it."

"Yeah, I got that already."

"Well, since we're getting nowhere with this, I'm going out to get more books," announced Hermione, getting out of her chair. She headed for the door.

"Do you have to…?" whined Ron.

"I'm going to, regardless," said Hermione. "I'll see you two later." And she was gone.

For several moments, silence filled the room. Then Harry broke it.

"So, are you still mad at me?" he asked, looking at Ron.

"No, not now that I know you're not the git who tricked my brother," Ron reassured him. "So the next question—"

Harry finished for him, "— is…who?" Then he answered his own question. "The Talismanic Group, maybe."

"If that's the case, then you have yourself a dangerous enemy," Ron said.

"Right," replied Harry. "Just add that to the top of my people-who-want-to-do-me-in

list."

"Pretty long list, eh?" asked Ron. He didn't really expect an answer, and he didn't receive one. "Another you can add, is the Prophet. That's the icing on the bloody cake."

Harry looked at him. "What do I do?"

"I have no idea, mate. No idea at all."

***************************** ****************************************

Ah, yet another chapter done. I had a bit of difficulty writing this one. Got hit by writer's block. But I stuck to my guns, and came through. Next chapter will have some new, important developments. Please R&R. Thanks a lot!