I own nothing. J.K.R Owns everything :(
Chapter 28: Fourth Year (Part 16)
17th August. 1998. 12.00pm...
"This is the next day. And my conversation with -"
"Me!" Sirius cheered.
"Exactly but it's something else added in too." Harry finished.
If Harry had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of him being champion, the following day showed him how mistaken he was.
He could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back at lessons - and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry had entered himself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.
"I bet the Hufflepuffs are angry." Kingsley chuckled.
The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them.
"Yep." Harry nodded, "The Ravenclaw's were on Hufflepuff's side on this too."
"Most of them." Luna corrected, "I wasnt. A few other people weren't either." she shrugged.
One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face.
Ron wasn't talking to Harry either. Hermione sat between them, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.
He would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too
"We're not that bad are we?" Draco pouted.
"Draco, you were the worst." Hermione pointed out.
"You have to admit that Draco. She's right, you were the worst." Astoria frowned, "Not even Blaise could stop you. Daphne told me."
Draco sighed and nodded his agreement.
"Hold on, Zabini never spoke up around us." Ron frowned.
"He used to tell me exactly what he thought in the common room if it was empty from anyone not in our year." Draco shrugged, "He usually avoids confrontations around people he doesn't know."
- the first time he would come face-to-face with them since becoming champion.
Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place.
"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer... Half the Triwizard champions have died... how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."
"'E didn't even take 10 minutes to complete the task." Fleur pointed out with a laugh.
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Malfoy had to stop there, because Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt.
To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk.
"Has Hagrid gone mad?" Sirius said.
"Hagrid's always been mad." Harry grinned, "That's why he's so brilliant."
The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.
"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"
"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one..."
"This is where being the teacher's friend is a bad thing." Sirius mumbled.
"Quite bad." Harry agreed, "But us three usually volunteered anyway."
"That's true. Like our lesson on Hippogriffs." Draco nodded. "The three of you went forward instead of back like the rest of the class."
"If we didn't no one would." Ron shrugged.
Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So-yer competin', Harry. In the tournament. School champion."
"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.
"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"
"You believe I didn't do it, then?" said Harry, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude he felt at Hagrid's words.
"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."
"Wish I knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly.
The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs
"That's because they probably are something along those lines." Remus said.
"I bet Hagrid created them." James said.
"That, or he bought them illegally." Sirius agreed.
"They're legal. They were imported legally from Germany." Kingsley told them, "They're a mix between Manticores and Fire-crabs." he shrugged, "It was looked up for the tournament and Hagrid told me a little about them." he explained.
- but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.
"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. Harry assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't;
"We definitely weren't." Ron muttered.
every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.
"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion... everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"
"Of course. He wouldn't be Harry if it didn't." George joked.
Harry didn't answer. Yes, everything did seem to happen to him... that was more or less what Hermione had said as they had walked around the lake, and that was the reason, according to her, that Ron was no longer talking to him.
The next few days were some of Harry's worst at Hogwarts. The closest he had ever come to feeling like this had been during those months, in his second year, when a large part of the school had suspected him of attacking his fellow students. But Ron had been on his side then. He thought he could have coped with the rest of the school's behavior if he could just have had Ron back as a friend, but he wasn't going to try and persuade Ron to talk to him if Ron didn't want to.
"You know your both idiots?" Ginny asked, "Harry you would have been able to talk some sense into him."
"She's right mate. I would have listened by that point." Ron nodded, Harry shrugged.
Nevertheless, it was lonely with dislike pouring in on him from all sides.
He could understand the Hufflepuff's attitude, even if he didn't like it; they had their own champion to support. He expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins - he was highly unpopular there and always had been, because he had helped Gryffindor beat them so often, both at Quidditch and in the Inter-House Championship. But he had hoped the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric.
He was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the goblet into accepting his name.
"Most of us were smart enough to figure out you couldn't have." Luna smiled. Harry grinned back.
Then there was the fact that Cedric looked the part of a champion so much more than he did. Exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes, it was hard to say who was receiving more admiration these days, Cedric or Viktor Krum.
Harry actually saw the same sixth-year girls who had been so keen to get Krum's autograph begging Cedric to sign their school bags one lunchtime.
Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig was refusing to come anywhere near him, Professor Trelawney was predicting his death with even more certainty than usual,
"Can't anyone leave you alone?" James asked.
and he did so badly at Summoning Charms
"That's easy." Fred chuckled.
"Not for someone who is under a lot of stress." Minerva frowned.
"I got them eventually." Harry shrugged. "Right before the first task actually. Hermione helped." he added smiling at her, she smiled back.
in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework-the only person to get any, apart from Neville.
"It's really not that difficult, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him as they left Flitwick's class-she had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes. "You just weren't concentrating properly -"
"Wonder why that was," said Harry darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at Harry as though he were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon..."
Everyone groaned.
Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture.
Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry as much as possible for daring to become school champion, was about the most unpleasant thing Harry could imagine. He had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with Hermione sitting next to him intoning "ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under her breath, and he couldn't see why today should be any better.
When he and Hermione arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment Harry thought they were S.P.E.W. badges
Sirius stared at Harry, "Were you okay?"
Harry laughed, "I'm not sure."
- then he saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:
SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY - THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!
"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"
He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green: POTTER STINKS!
"Nice." James said sarcastically.
Remus added, "It must've taken real brains to come up with that."
"It was Warrington." Draco shrugged, "He has a brain like a fish."
"No it's worse than a fish." Astoria frowned, "More like a peanut. It was mainly to annoy the Gryffindor's and Harry anyway, I think."
"Nothing new there." Ron muttered.
The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.
"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty."
Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.
"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."
"Hex him, Harry!" Sirius urged.
"No." Lily said stiffly.
"Lily, come on." he pleaded.
"No," James said, shocking them all, "it'd be just Harry's luck for Snape to come along and catch him."
Harry and Draco shared looks.
Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.
"Harry!" Lily said warningly.
"Too late to stop me Mum." he sighed, "Four years too late."
"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -"
For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.
"Funnunculus!" Harry yelled.
"Go, Harry!" the Marauders and the twins cheered.
Lily, Molly, Dora and Ginny glared at them and they cowered, Sirius turning into his animagus and whimpering.
"Shut up, Sirius." Dora said.
Padfoot growled at her.
"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.
James snorted.
"You have a problem with that spell?" Draco asked.
"The teeth growing spell?" James asked.
"It's better than what my original was."
"What were you going to do?" Astoria asked.
"Another Serpensortia to distract him and then a tongue tier." he admitted.
"Wouldn't have worked." Harry smirked, "I was fine with speaking to snakes in public thanks to you in second year."
"Your a Parselmouth?" Frank asked shocked.
"Yes." Harry nodded, "That's how I got into the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny. I thought we told you that?"
"Might have. We've had a lot to take in since we recovered from the insanity." Alice shrugged.
Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles - Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.
"Hermione!"
Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her; Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth-already larger than average-were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin-panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.
"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.
Snape had arrived.
The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."
"Potter attacked me, sir -"
"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.
"- and he hit Goyle - look -"
Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.
"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.
"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"
He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth - she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.
Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."
Everybody either growled or swore. Harry had quickly covered Teddy's ears, being the one now holding him.
Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.
It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.
"I reckon we were lucky right then." Ron commented.
"Very lucky." Harry agreed.
"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."
"Of course, no punishment for the innocent little Slytherin." James muttered.
"I did get detention." Draco frowned, "Uncle Sev just didn't hand out detentions to Slytherins in front of everybody."
Harry's ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too-for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room. Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him... If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse... he'd have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching.
Lily looked disapproving, "That's a little too much."
"I know but he was planning on poisoning us." Harry said, "And I was angry. I wouldn't follow through with it."
"It's like when he wanted to kill Snuffles in the Shack." Ron nodded, "Harry's terrifying when he's angry."
"And... I don't think it was completely my thought..." Harry muttered, "Remember I told you I had that connection with Voldemort?"
"What dose..." James trailed off, "You think it was his thought?"
Harry nodded, "Even though neither of us knew of the connection at that time there was the occasional emotion or thought that bled over from him to me, I'm not sure about the other way around, but I think that influenced a few of my thoughts."
"Particularly the ones that made you want to kill or torture people." Minerva nodded, "Albus told me very little about it but I know a few things you did that you would never have done without Voldemort's interference. He only told me because I was the Head of Gryffindor and you were one of my students." she explained, "It was incase something happened to you concerning the connection and he wasn't there. Severus was informed as well."
"Why?" Regulus asked shocked.
"He was attempting to teach me Occumelency. It failed dismally of course, we hated each other too much." Harry sighed.
"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."
Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head - And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on Harry's thoughts.
It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.
"Yes?" said Snape curtly.
"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."
Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.
"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."
Colin went pink.
"Sir-sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."
"Oh, Collin." Lily groaned.
"That wasnt the best thing to say but Colin didnt realise that." Harry defended Colin.
Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. He chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.
"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."
"Please, sir - he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions..."
"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter - take your bag and get out of my sight!"
Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door. As he walked through the Slytherin desks, POTTER STINKS flashed at him from every direction.
"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You being champion?"
"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily as they set off toward the steps into the entrance hall. "What do they want photos for, Colin?"
"The Daily Prophet, I think!"
"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."
"Good luck!" said Colin when they had reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door and entered.
He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.
Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody.
"You would think he'd be a little more social, being a Quidditch Star and all." James said.
"Victor didn't really talk to anyone at all." Fleur shrugged.
"He never talked to the other champions you mean." Harry smirked, "The only conversation I remember having with him was at your wedding and just after we were told about the third task."
"'E only talked to me a few times as well." she shrugged.
Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.
Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward.
"Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come... nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment -"
"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter,"
"Not her." James groaned.
"Unfortunately, yes, her." Molly sighed.
"The most vicious reporter in the world." Arthur explained to Frank, Alice and Regulus, who all looked confused.
"Reg she's the one that looks like a big bug." Sirius told him, "A few years above us in Slytherin." he added to Frank and Alice.
"She was in the year below me." Cissy put in.
"Oh... Her." Regulus wrinkled his nose, "She was always snooping around, trying to find out everyones business."
"Mainly yours and Sirius's." Cissy nodded, "She was very interested in the Black family history... Until Sirius cursed her." she smirked.
Sirius shrugged, "She was annoying and should've known not to mess with me or Reg by then."
he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet..."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.
"And now she's going to somehow humiliate Harry." Lily said.
"She can't do it anymore." Harry smirked, "Thank's to Hermione."
"What did you do?" Alice asked.
"Blackmail, I dug up some information on her." Hermione grinned, "Therefore she can't come near us or she know's I'll tell the Ministry."
"What is it?" Kingsley frowned, "It sounds bad but something that would stop her slandering the Ministry would be great to know, even if its not used immediately."
"You're thinking about when she gets around to doing an article on the escaped Death Eaters, arent you?" Percy inquired, he nodded sheepishly.
"The last thing we need right now is her getting involved."
"You'll find out later." Harry smiled.
Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.
"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?"
"No thank you bug lady." Harry said making them all chuckle or giggle.
she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know... to add a bit of color?"
"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is - if Harry has no objection?"
"Er -" said Harry.
"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door.
"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see... ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."
It was a broom cupboard. Harry stared at her.
"Come along, dear - that's right - lovely," said Rita Skeeter again, perching herself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing Harry down onto a cardboard box, and closing the door, throwing them into darkness. "Let's see now..."
She unsnapped her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into midair, so that they could see what they were doing.
"You won't mind, Harry, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill?"
"Those things should be illegal." Remus muttered.
"They are now." Kingsley smirked. "Reporters have to use Dicta-Quills or write their stories by hand. I got annoyed with them trying to discredit the Ministry a month or two ago. Apparently a few reporters didn't like the fact I refused to let them question those three." he nodded at the Golden Trio, "So they tried to say I was 'unfair','unreasonable' and 'unfit to be Minister'."
"That's how the Prophet's so restricted now. Kingsley makes sure they follow the proper procedures and don't print lies anymore. Occasionally something slips through, but not too often." Hermione mused.
"And I force them to retract it and print an apology." Kingsley nodded.
"We had to arrest a few reporters who refused to follow the procedures, a few got blacklisted and others quickly started following them again." Percy added, "We've not had much trouble since then."
"It leaves me free to talk to you normally..."
"A what?" said Harry.
Rita Skeeter's smile widened. Harry counted three gold teeth.
She reached again into her crocodile bag and drew out a long acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which she stretched out between them on a crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly.
"Testing... my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."
Harry looked down quickly at the quill. The moment Rita Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the parchment:
Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, who's savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations -
"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, yet again, and she ripped the top piece of parchment off, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she leaned toward Harry and said, "So, Harry... what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Er -" said Harry again, but he was distracted by the quill. Even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake he could make out a fresh sentence:
An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter,
"It doesn't disfigure his face." Lily said scowling.
"Lil's you know what Skeeter's like." James frowned, "Probably never told the truth in her life."
"She has." Luna said, "Harry gave an interview for the Quibbler and it was 100% true." she explained making them all look shocked.
"She was under threat at the time, and it was given in a public place." Harry shrugged, "It was in my 5th year." he added.
whose eyes -
"Ignore the quill, Harry," said Rita Skeeter firmly. Reluctantly Harry looked up at her instead. "Now - why did you decide to enter the tournament, Harry?"
"I didn't," said Harry. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."
Rita Skeeter raised one heavily penciled eyebrow.
"Come now, Harry, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel."
"But I didn't enter," Harry repeated. "I don't know who -"
"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" said Rita Skeeter. "Excited? Nervous?"
"I haven't really thought... yeah, nervous, I suppose," said Harry. His insides squirmed uncomfortably as he spoke.
"Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" said Rita Skeeter briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?"
"Well... they say it's going to be a lot safer this year," said Harry.
The quill whizzed across the parchment between them, back and forward as though it were skating.
"Of course, you've looked death in the face before, haven't you?" said Rita Skeeter, watching him closely. "How would you say that's affected you?"
"Er," said Harry, yet again.
"Do you think that the trauma in your past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Triwizard Tournament because -"
"I didn't enter," said Harry, starting to feel irritated.
"Can you remember your parents at all?" said Rita Skeeter, talking over him.
"No," said Harry.
Lily and James frowned.
"I lied." Harry admitted, "I didn't want it public that I could remember things from when I was one. Especially not about that Halloween." he shrugged.
"How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Triwizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?"
"A little of all three, but mainly the one in the middle." Lily said.
James nodded in agreement, "Proud you've obviously survived it without being killed or losing a limb, worried about what we're going to be seeing, and angry someone's trying to kill you again, son."
Harry grinned, "All valid reasons, I suppose."
Harry was feeling really annoyed now. How on earth was he to know how his parents would feel if they were alive? He could feel Rita Skeeter watching him very intently. Frowning, he avoided her gaze and looked down at words the quill had just written:
Tears fill those startlingly green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents he can barely remember.
"That's a bunch of rubbish!" Sirius growled.
"I have NOT got tears in my eyes!" said Harry loudly.
Before Rita Skeeter could say a word, the door of the broom cupboard was pulled open.
Harry looked around, blinking in the bright light. Albus Dumbledore stood there,
"Thank you, Albus." James sighed. "You can rescue him from the bug."
looking down at both of them, squashed into the cupboard.
"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, with every appearance of delight - but Harry noticed that her quill and the parchment had suddenly vanished from the box of Magical Mess Remover, and Rita's clawed fingers were hastily snapping shut the clasp of her crocodile-skin bag. "How are you?" she said, standing up and holding out one of her large, mannish hands to Dumbledore. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."
"Did she do that?" Regulus asked.
"Yes she did. Got a lot of people hating her for that comment." Bill nodded.
Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely abashed.
"I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street -"
"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," said Dumbledore, with a courteous bow and a smile, "but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."
Very glad to get away from Rita Skeeter, Harry hurried back into the room. The other champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, and he sat down quickly next to Cedric, looking up at the velvet-covered table, where four of the five judges were now sitting - Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner; Harry saw her slip the parchment out of her bag again, spread it on her knee, suck the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. Harry had met Mr. Ollivander before
"Pretty much every witch or wizard over ten has met Ollivander." Sirius said.
"Not if zey dont go to Hogwarts." Fleur disagreed, "I 'ad mine made by my local wandmaker and Victor went to Gregorovitch for his."
"Every witch or wizard in Britain then." he corrected himself.
- he was the wand-maker from whom Harry had bought his own wand over three years ago in Diagon Alley.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmm..." he said.
He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches... inflexible... rosewood... and containing... dear me..."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Ron... then he remembered that Ron wasn't speaking to him.
"He was curious." Harry told a curious looking Fleur. "Mainly because he was so affected by your charm." Ron nodded, blushing slightly as the others laughed or smiled in amusement.
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next." Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.
"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches... ash... pleasantly springy."
"How does he remember all of that?" James asked in awe.
"Magic." Minerva smiled, "How else?"
"It's in fine condition... You treat it regularly?"
"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.
Harry looked down at his own wand. He could see finger marks all over it. He gathered a fistful of robe from his knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Fleur Delacour gave him a very patronizing look, and he desisted.
"Really?" Ginny asked Harry.
"Yes." Harry chuckled.
"I 'ad wondered what you were doing." Fleur commented, smiling.
Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please."
Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.
"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I... however..."
He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.
"Yes... hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees... quite rigid... ten and a quarter inches... Avis!"
The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.
"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves... Mr. Potter."
Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.
"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."
Harry could remember too. He could remember it as though it had happened yesterday...
Four summers ago, on his eleventh birthday, he had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop with Hagrid to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken his measurements and then started handing him wands to try. Harry had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last he had found the one that suited him - this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Harry had been so compatible with this wand. "Curious," he had said, "curious," and not until Harry asked what was curious had Mr. Ollivander explained that the phoenix feather in Harry's wand had come from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's.
"It does?" Frank asked.
"It does." Harry confirmed, "And the feather was from Fawkes too." he smirked.
"Cool." Alice grinned.
Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort's wand was something it couldn't help - rather as he couldn't help being related to Aunt Petunia.
Petunia huffed.
"Sorry Aunt Petunia." Harry blushed.
However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn't about to tell the room about it.
He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.
Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.
"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end -"
Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.
"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Who cares about her opinion?" Percy asked rhetorically.
"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."
The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions.
At last, they were free to go. Harry went down to dinner. Hermione wasn't there - he supposed she was still in the hospital wing having her teeth fixed.
He ate alone at the end of the table, then returned to Gryffindor Tower, thinking of all the extra work on Summoning Charms that he had to do. Up in the dormitory, he came across Ron.
"You've had an owl," said Ron brusquely the moment he walked in. He was pointing at Harry's pillow. The school barn owl was waiting for him there.
"Oh - right," said Harry.
"And we've got to do our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon," said Ron. He then walked straight out of the room, not looking at Harry. For a moment, Harry considered going after him - he wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk to him or hit him, both seemed quite appealing
Harry gave Ron a sheepish look.
Ron shrugged, "You should have hit me. Might have knocked some sense into me." he chuckled.
- but the lure of Sirius's answer was too strong. Harry strode over to the barn owl, took the letter off its leg, and unrolled it.
Harry -
I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk face-to-face.
Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?
"You're not going up there are you?" James asked, surprised.
"No, I found a way to Floo him." Sirius explained.
I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose.
Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can.
- Sirius
"And that's the end of the memory. Let's have lunch before I give you a heart attack." Harry grinned. Everyone groaned. "It's not that dangerous, just scary." he added as they all went for lunch.