Skeeter

Harry was knackered from the day before, both mentally and physically. He didn't understand why the Ministry decided the first task should be held on a Thursday. He had asked Bagman, but the Ministry man had no plausible reason. The considerable amount of magic he had expended on the task, the adrenaline that had raced through his body and the celebration that followed had worn the young man out.

Blaise managed to drag Harry out of bed in time for breakfast. Harry couldn't quite hold his head up as they walked towards the Great Hall. He watched Blaise's feet and followed him as quickly as he could manage without falling over, all the while stifling yawns and scratching his head.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Blaise stopped short. Harry grunted as he hadn't stopped in time, catching an elbow to the gut due to his lack of alacrity. Harry struggled to focus his gaze at the sight before him, trying to make sense of it. Hermione and Viktor were standing with a distraught Alia, clinging to Ginevra's arm near the Slytherin table. Harry's eyes widened as his befuddled thoughts caught up to the image playing out before him. Harry muttered to himself, "Alia is upset."

Blaise had moved quickly and Harry was once more following his best friend's footsteps. Blaise shot an irritable glance at Viktor and Hermione as he hissed, "What happened?"

Alia cringed and shrunk away. Hermione narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips at Harry, causing the boy to blink in confusion asking, "What did I do?"

Hermione huffed in exasperation and said only one word, "Skeeter."

Harry groaned. Alia winced. Blaise pulled their 'adopted' sister into his arms and allowed the young girl to lean on him for support in an uncharacteristically touching public display of affection. Harry watched with undisguised anguish on Alia's behalf, "What did that evil woman do?"

Viktor growled and pushed a newspaper at the young Slytherin, "Skeeter 'rote a story."

Harry reluctantly took the offered paper. His eyes widened at the large featured photograph that revealed an interrupted private encounter starring an incensed Harry and a flushed Hermione. The image showed the two fourth year students abruptly ending a kiss, followed by Harry bodily moving a rattled Hermione behind him. A thought struck him and Harry had to ask, "Hermione, your parents don't read the Daily Prophet, do they?"

Hermione scoffed, "No, of course not."

The teen's relief was short lived as his eyes caught the article beside the photograph. Blaise saw his friend flinch and asked, "What? What is it?"

Reluctantly, Harry read aloud:

"Harry Potter, a little heartbreaker?

We all remember the mention of a girlfriend, presumably one Miss Herminnie Ganger,"

"She didn't even get my name right." Hermione pouted and crossed her arms.

Harry resisted a rebuttal and continued:

"that he spoke so fondly of in the champion's interview… such a heartwarming thought of young love. They can often be seen together, walking, talking and holding hands. It was just the other day that the two lovebirds were caught in an intimate moment. Yet earlier that very day, that same Mr. Potter, a Champion of Hogwarts, was seen "consoling" a younger woman who was clearly not his girlfriend, Miss Ganger."

"How could she have known that? She wasn't even in the Great Hall." Alia's voice was muffled as she half spoke into Blaise's chest.

"I have no idea," Harry responded before he kept reading:

"How many hearts is this baby Casanova stringing along? How long until he's caught? How far will he go to keep his dirty little secret?

Something gives this reporter the feeling that it won't be long until his little net catches in a snag."

Harry's grip tightened and the newspaper crinkled audibly, "This whole thing is rubbish. I'm sorry, Al."

Alia shook her head and stepped back from Blaise's embrace. The young Slytherin's eyes were still teary, but she took a calming breath before speaking to keep her voice even. "It's not your fault, Harry."

A few Gryffindors walked by at that moment, having gone out of their way in order to be heard. One spoke loudly, "Look, Potter's having problems with his harem…"

Harry's back stiffened. Alia recoiled and shook her head, "I can't…"

"Alia!" Blaise followed her.

Viktor grabbed Harry's arm before he could follow the young troubled girl. "Ve vill talk vith her."

Ginevra vanished without a word, presumably to follow Alia. Harry watched them leave and sighed heavily. Hermione broke through Harry's thoughts to bring his mind back to her, "Harry…"

Harry blinked and resisted the urge to follow them. Turning his attention back to Hermione, Harry started with an apology. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I…" Harry's words faded and he shook his head, "Being my girlfriend isn't easy, is it?"

Hermione stepped closer to him. One hand rested on his chest, the other cupped his face gently. Harry snaked an arm around her waist as she melted into his embrace, "No, but the good outweighs the bad."

That had Harry chuckling, "I'm glad you think so."

"Hmmm," She hummed and smiled shyly when he kissed her forehead. Her hand dropped idly to join the other on his chest as her eyebrows furrowed with worry, "Is Alia going to be alright?"

"I hope so." Harry tightened his grip on Hermione, momentarily as he remembered something, "Oh! Almost forgot. Last night Professor Snape told me that as one of the champions, I'm expected to participate in the opening dance at the Yule Ball. Rather than just assume you'll come with me because you're my girlfriend," Harry quirked a questioning eyebrow when he felt Hermione stiffen in his arms before he could continue, "I figured it would be polite to ask you properly."

Harry looked questioningly at the blushing girl in his arms, "Would you do me the honor of being my date for the Yule Ball?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Her voice was a small squeak of a 'yes' in response. Harry canted his head as he looked at her, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. It's just… for a moment, I thought…"

Harry frowned when she refused to meet his eyes. "What?"

She waved off Harry's concern, kissed his cheek and disentangled herself. "I have to find a book in the library. I'll see you in class."

"Hermione?" A bemused Harry watched Hermione quickly leave the Great Hall. He made his way to the Slytherin table, dropped the newspaper at an empty space and sat idly rubbing at his forehead, "I'll never understand girls."

"We need to do something about Skeeter." Blaise slipped into a seat across from Harry. The Italian Zabini heir poured his tea and watched as Harry added ketchup to his scrambled eggs.

"How's Alia?" Harry ignored Blaise's comment in order to inquire about their fellow Slytherin in distress.

"She's okay. Wanted to be alone."

"And you… left her alone."

"Naturally." When Harry looked doubtful, Blaise elaborated, "She went into the girl's loo. I would have followed, but McGonagall was watching me as I stood near the door."

"Ah." Harry took a bite of his eggs before doing an odd motion with his fork towards Blaise which could possibly be interpreted as a 'continue' type of movement, "So… Skeeter?"

"The woman may have free reign to cover the Tournament, the champions and anything political…" Blaise paused to sip his tea. "You can handle the hype, the fame and bad press. It's another thing to drag an innocent like Alia into this."

"What do you have in mind?" Harry asked before taking a bite of his breakfast.

"Whatever it is, I want in." Both boys sat up in surprise at the interruption when the younger Slytherin suddenly appeared beside Blaise. Ginevra rolled her eyes, "What? Okay, I'm eavesdropping, but Skeeter upset my best friend. She needs to suffer."

"Hey, Gin…" All three Slytherins immediately turned their attention the approaching unwelcome Gryffindor. "I think Mum sent this to me by mistake." Ron held up an outrageous outfit of faded pink paisley, ruffles and faded yellowing lace to his chest and looked down at it with a curled lip of revulsion.

Ginevra shook her head vehemently, "I'm not wearing that… it's hideous!"

Once Blaise stopped choking on his tea, he pointed out the obvious. "That is a man's dress robes, Weasel. It is meant for your use, not your sister's."

"It's pink." Harry stared, unable to look away at the dress robes in Ron's hands. The two words were uttered in breathless horror. Blaise kicked Harry's foot, causing the boy to cough and change his tone. Harry added a supportive sentiment, "You should definitely wear it to the Yule Ball."

"Oh shut it, Potter." Ron groused, "I can't wear this. I'll be the laughing stock of the ball."

Ginevra looked amused, "It looks like something Aunt Tessie would wear."

Ron grimaced as he sniffed at the offending garment, "It smells like Aunt Tessie."

Snickering could be heard along the Slytherin table, catching Ron's attention. The Gryffindor stiffened as he turned beet red from neck to the tips of his ears and stormed off to the sounds of laughter throughout the Great Hall. Harry wiped his tears of mirth and shook his head. "If he wears that to the ball, I hope Creepy gets photos."

"The Summoning Charm cannot be used on buildings, though why anyone would attempt to summon a building is anybody's guess. More importantly, it does not work on most living things. And before anyone gets any ideas, most items have been warded with counterspells and anti-theft spells prior to being sold at your local store." Flitwick stood on his usual raised 'platform' consisting of a stack of papers and books in front of the Charms class and spoke with his usual high pitched squeaky fervor. "As with every spell: pronunciation, enunciation and intent combined are key for a successful summons! For once, the wand movement is so simple it is almost negligible. You simply point in the direction of what you are summoning and say the incantation. Like so," Flitwick pointed across the room at an object, "Accio feather!"

The white plume dashed across the room, slicing through the air and allowing Flitwick to deftly pluck it from its path as it came into reach. "Simple! Now, repeat after me. Accio."

"Accio," the class repeated.

"Excellent, now you each have a pillow before you. Give it a try!"

The class was split into two lines of students facing away from each other towards the opposing wall where a pillow laid in wait. Slytherins could be seen fidgeting and casting wary glances behind them often.

"Accio pillow." Harry stared at the offending, non-moving navy blue pillow. "Accio blue pillow."

Canting his head Harry frowned, ignoring those around him. Harry glared and gripped his wand. He pointed at the pillow and tried again growling, "Accio pillow!"

The pillow twitched and Harry sighed, dropping his arm to his side. "It's impossible."

"You think so?" Blaise nudged him and nodded towards Hermione, Sara and Padma. The girls were hugging their pillows gleefully.

"Figures." Harry groused. He peered at the pillow in his girlfriend's arms, "Accio Hermione's pillow."

Hermione squeaked when her pillow twitched. Harry grinned sheepishly and she playfully wrinkled her nose at him. Before he could turn back around to continue practicing, Harry and Blaise were both hit by pillows.

Laughing Harry shook his head, Blaise stiffened. "What the-"

"Accio pillow!" Hermione, Sara and Padma summoned their pillows back to them.

Blaise chuckled softly, "One should never seek to gain the ire of a snake."

"I got it!" Ginevra was bouncing on the balls of her feet in her excitement.

"What do you have exactly?" Blaise didn't look up from the homework he was reading over.

"The answer!"

"The answer to what?"

"The answer to everything."

Without skipping a beat, Harry deadpanned, "Forty-two."

"What?" Ginevra and Blaise asked in unison.

Harry dropped his quill and sighed, "Purebloods." He sat back in his seat, folded his hands across his lap and looked at both of the Slytherins with disappointment, "Would it kill you to read Muggle literature? You're missing out on some classic stories."

Blaise raised an amused eyebrow, but didn't deem to respond to his friend's claim before turning his attention back to Ginevra, "Okay Weaselette, what exactly has you this excited?"

Ginevra wrinkled her nose at Blaise, but graced him with a response anyhow. "I know how we're going to get even with that Skeeter woman."

That got the boys' attention as they were both suddenly at the edge of their seats. Harry leaned his forearms on the table. "Enlighten us."

"The twins."

Harry and Blaise exchanged a look and a grin. Harry sat back in his chair, "Now why didn't we think of that?"

"More importantly," Blaise peered at Ginevra, "Why didn't you think of that sooner?"

Ginevra huffed and crossed her arms, ignoring the question. "After breakfast tomorrow they're going to meet us in their private lab."

"Private lab?" Harry queried, "Let me guess, an abandoned bathroom on the seventh floor?"

She nodded slowly eyeing Harry with a questioning gaze, "How did you know?"

"I suggested it." Blaise pushed away from the table and grabbed his belongings. "And since nothing else will be accomplished tonight, I'm off to bed."

"G'night," Ginevra took Blaise's spot at the table and pulled her feet up on the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knee. She didn't speak, but bit her lip and glanced often in Harry's direction.

Harry's quill paused, but he didn't look across the table at the young girl. "Speak, Weaselette."

"Alisgointathbahl."

With a raised eyebrow, Harry finally looks at the girl. "In English, please."

Ginevra took a deep breath and tried again. "Alia is going to the Yule Ball."

Harry grinned, "Good for her." He continued to check his potions homework and felt her eyes on him still. Harry looked up at the gaping girl. "Was there more?"

"That's it? You're not gonna get mad? Ask who dared to ask her, and insist that no one is good enough for her?"

"No. It's none of my business." Harry set his quill down, closed his ink and started to put his belongings away. From his peripheral vision, Harry noted that Ginevra was still staring. "For cripes sake, will you just say it already?"

Ginevra's mouth snapped shut and she huffed, "You're not very good at this big brother thing."

"Apparently not." Harry smirked, pushed his chair back and hitched his bag on his shoulder. "But if he or she hurts Alia, there will be hell to pay."

Giggling, Ginevra rolled her eyes "Well, that's an improvement."

Harry chuckled and ruffled Ginevra's hair before making his way through the Slytherin common room. "Night, Weaselette."

"Night, Harry."

AN: For those depraved souls who don't understand that 'the answer to life, the universe and everything' is, in fact, '42'. "DON'T PANIC". Do yourself a favor and read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. Sure you can watch the movie (who doesn't love Alan Rickman?), but the book truly is most excellent.

Edited 10/19/2016