Chapter Seventy-Seven - Rita Skeeter's Scoop
The morning after Christmas, everyone woke up late. Blaise was still sleeping soundly when Harry finally made his way downstairs, realizing that it was well past the usual breakfast hour. He met Millie in the common room, and together they headed toward the Great Hall, stomachs growling and eager for brunch.
On the way, Harry informed Millie that he and Blaise overheard Karkaroff talking to Snape the night before. He told her that they hadn't learned much from the brief exchange, though Karkaroff had seemed nervous about something, and Snape had told him to flee. Millie didn't seem nearly as impressed by this information as Harry had hoped, and she calmly asked, "So what?"
Harry wasn't sure how to answer. He had a bad feeling about the conversation, and he supposed it had something to do with what Sirius had told him about Karkaroff. The Durmstrang headmaster was a former Death Eater. Sirius said he had turned traitor, disclosing the names of several of his comrades, and was therefore released from Azkaban. But did a follower of Lord Voldemort ever really change his ways?
Then there was Snape. Just as Harry was beginning to think he had him figured out, he hears him conspiring with someone like Karkaroff. What was the connection between the two men?
"What if it was Karkaroff who put my name in the Goblet of Fire?" Harry finally suggested after ruminating over the matter.
"That doesn't make any sense," Millie said, "Wouldn't that make Viktor's chances of winning smaller?"
"Not if he didn't think I could handle it. Maybe he's trying to get back at me for, you know, the whole Voldemort thing."
Millie considered this, but she still wasn't convinced, "Snape was furious that you'd been entered in the competition, wasn't he? If he's plotting something with Karkaroff, wouldn't he have known?"
Harry put this puzzle aside as they reached the Great Hall. He spotted Hermione and Neville sitting at the Gryffindor table. Since Blaise was still fast asleep in their dormitory, Harry thought he could try something without protest from his friend.
"What do you say we eat with Gryffindor for a change?"
Millie looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He assured her that there could be nothing unusual about eating with their friends. Hermione and Neville took meals with Slytherin all the time. Millie shrugged, either not caring enough to object or simply not having the energy to fight him. Harry had succeeded.
It was a good morning for trying the experiment. There were not as many students in the Great Hall today to cast him dirty looks. Outside of formal feasts, such as the sorting ceremony, there was no expectation that students had to sit with their own houses. Still, tradition typically ruled the day, and Slytherin was usually restricted to their own table. Hermione and Neville had become a regular exception to this rule, but this was Harry's first attempt to sit with them at the Gryffindor table.
They were met with a few confused glances, but Hermione and Neville greeted the Slytherin pair as if it was only natural that they should join them. Harry noticed immediately that Hermione's hair was back to its usual volume.
"Millie did a great job, didn't she?" Hermione said with a pleased smile when Harry made this observation, "But it still took about a gallon of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. It's too much trouble for everyday, but I suppose it's nice on special occasions."
Harry really didn't mind her hair the way it was. Looking at her from across the breakfast table, he still saw the pretty girl from the Yule Ball. It was a wonder he hadn't noticed how nice Hermione looked before. He felt a little jolt of panic as he realized he was staring and quickly looked down at his plate. Wondering what had gotten into him, he tried to change the subject.
"Did you enjoy the ball with Krum?" he asked, though he immediately regretted the question. He did not want to appear too interested in Hermione's relationships with other boys.
Hermione looked embarrassed, though she replied calmly, "Viktor was very nice."
"Has he made any progress with his egg?" Harry quickly added.
"We didn't discuss the tournament, actually," Hermione countered, her tone warmer than it had been before, "What about you, Harry? Have you been preparing for the next task?"
This reminded Harry that he needed to talk to Cedric. It seemed as though he had wanted to tell Harry something about the egg last night, but his date had stopped him. Harry didn't share this detail with Hermione. He assumed she would tell him to stop consorting with the other champions. Instead, Harry told her that he thought he was close to the solution. The lie drew an inquisitive glance from Millie, though she faithfully kept silent.
Neville took the momentary lull in conversation to ask, "Where is Blaise?"
"Still asleep," said Harry.
"I don't wonder," Neville continued with a smile, "Seems he had his hands full last night."
Harry had been busy during the second half of the dance. The small orchestra had transitioned into a spirited performance by the Weird Sisters toward the end of the evening, and Harry had been far too busy enjoying the party with Nell and Millie to pay much attention to Blaise and his dates. Now it seemed as though Neville had caught on to something Harry had missed, and he eagerly pressed him to say more.
"I saw that girl from Beauxbatons get into an argument with Daphne Greengrass," Neville explained, "I don't know what they were saying, because one started speaking in French, but Daphne looked ready to start hexing. Good thing she didn't bring her wand, otherwise I think it could have turned ugly. Poliakoff eventually broke it up, but Blaise disappeared after that."
"Good," said Millie smugly, "He got what was coming to him."
Harry couldn't agree with her, though he kept his thoughts to himself. He was past feeling jealous of Blaise. He had been in bed before Blaise returned to their dorm, and he had assumed Blaise was still enjoying the ball. Now he hoped that Blaise wasn't too disappointed in the dance. He had been so looking forward to it.
Hermione decided it was time they addressed the homework they had all been avoiding. Since they were already together, she proposed a group trip to the library. Harry vaguely wondered if Viktor would turn up for their study session again, but he wouldn't be there to find out. Cedric had just wandered into the Great Hall, hand in hand with Cho Chang. It was a good opportunity to talk to him about the second task.
"You go on without me," Harry said as the others prepared to leave.
Hermione gave him a disapproving glance, but Harry shrugged his shoulders and said, "I'm excused from exams, remember? I'd better get to work on the next task."
It wasn't entirely a lie. He had every intention to learn more about his egg. But still he waited until the others had made their way out of the Great Hall before he hustled to the Hufflepuff table.
He wasted no time in addressing Cedric with, "Any luck on that egg?"
It was Cho's turn to direct a disapproving glance at Harry, but Cedric told her not to worry.
"I owe him," he said by way of explanation. Harry knew he was referring to the warning about the dragons, and felt confident that whatever Cedric was about to tell him, it would be worth hearing.
"Should we go somewhere else?" Harry suggested. He was worried about eavesdropping students, but he also wasn't sure he trusted Cho.
Cedric assured him it was fine, and continued, "You know the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor? The one by the statue of Boris the Bewildered?"
"Yes," Harry said, though he hadn't been aware that there was a prefect's bathroom on that floor. He did recall seeing the statue on the Marauder's Map, and there was a portrait of Boris elsewhere in the castle that concealed a secret passageway. Just as he had found this passage, Harry was sure he'd find the location of the bathroom faithfully copied on the map.
Cedric nodded his head approvingly and said, "The password is 'pine fresh.'"
Harry stared at him. Cedric smiled back at him mischievously. The expression was a new one for Cedric, who always struck Harry as a do-gooder and rule-follower. This roguish look suited him.
"The egg," he clarified when it was clear Harry hadn't understood him, "Take it into the bath."
Cho had continued to look on, her expression moody. Although Cedric's clue left much to be desired, Harry felt compelled to thank Cedric and leave. He couldn't stop a feeling of resentment, however. He had told Cedric point blank about the dragons. Why was Cedric playing these games with him now? Unless, of course, Cedric hadn't actually discovered what the second task would be. Perhaps the bath was merely the first step to unlocking the riddle.
The first day of term arrived faster than he anticipated, and the snow was still thick upon the ground when classes resumed. No one was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures, though Harry was hopeful that the snow would dampen any fire blasts from the remaining Blast-Ended Skrewts. He followed the train of students making their way across the grounds, walking in each other's footprints until a deep track carved its way through the snow drifts to Hagrid's cabin. Harry was already in a fowl mood, disturbed by his now soggy socks and the fact that he still hadn't solved the riddle of the egg. Then he saw that Hagrid was gone.
In his place was an elderly witch Harry had never seen before. She had short gray hair and a prominent chin. She introduced herself to the class as Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"Where's Professor Hagrid?" inquired Harry in a loud voice.
Professor Grubbly-Plank barely glanced at him before replying coldly, "He's indisposed."
The professor went on to explain their lesson for the day. The announcement that they would be studying unicorns drew several appreciative "oohs" from her audience, but Harry wasn't interested.
"Where has Hagrid gone?" he muttered again to Blaise and Millie, who could only shrug their shoulders in response.
He got his answer from the one person he was least likely to discuss personal matters with. Draco seemed particularly gleeful about Hagrid's absence. He made several statements to that effect on their way to see the unicorns. Harry held his tongue until Professor Grubbly-Plank was distracted. She had instructed the boys to hang back while the girls approached the unicorns. Apparently, they preferred young women to young boys. This bizarre sexism on the part of a magical beast was lost on Harry, who took the opportunity to confront Draco.
"You know something about why Hagrid isn't here," Harry said in a low voice, careful to avoid being overheard, "Just spill it."
Draco assumed an expression of mock surprise and said, "You mean you didn't see yesterday's Prophet, Potter? Here, read it yourself."
He pulled a page of newsprint from an inside pocket of his robes and offered it to Harry.
Draco had clearly been waiting for this moment. Harry disgusted, but curious, snatched the page and quickly devoured its contents. He saw the offending article instantly.
Dumbledore's Giant Mistake
The revival of the Triwizard Tournament brings with it other time-honored traditions, the least of which is certainly not the Yule Ball. The four champions were resplendent with their partners, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent, who had exclusive access to the event.
"Exclusive access?" Blaise hissed into Harry's ear. He was busy reading the article over Harry's shoulder, "But she wasn't even there!"
Harry ignored the outburst and read on, already dreading what was to come. After a description of the other three champions and their dates (Hermione's name was spelled wrong), Harry saw the first line relating to him.
Not all were happy in their choice of partner. Harry Potter, notorious Boy Who Lived and the youngest of the champions, seems to be unlucky in love. He caused a sensation when he opened the dance without his long-time girlfriend, Millicent Bulstrode, but with fellow Hogwarts student Edward Willoughby.
Harry felt his heart drop as he read the name printed. Skeeter was always getting her facts wrong, but he felt this time the mistake was intentional. Still resentful toward Harry for refusing her an interview, she was attacking those close to him, just as she had slandered Sirius and Remus. He wondered if Nell had seen the article yet.
But Skeeter was just getting started. After mentioning that "Edward" was seen dancing with another student while Harry was absent, the article went on to say that he was not the only one having relationship troubles.
Potter's teacher and close personal friend, Rubeus Hagrid, made an unsuccessful suit for Olympe Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.
Maxime was seen leaving Hagrid's company in a state that this reporter can only describe as insulted and outraged, and one cannot wonder at her disdain. Who would not be affronted after being accused of having giant blood?
Yes, dear readers! You read that correctly. Rubeus Hagrid, himself a confessed half-giant, mistakenly assumed Maxime, a woman of admittedly large proportions, shared the same sordid lineage as himself. This revelation will no doubt shock many, and it raises many more questions about the safety of the students of Hogwarts as a whole.
Albus Dumbledore, eccentric headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has made controversial staff appointments many times in the past, the most recent involving the appointment of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher earlier this year. (This reporter has already informed the public of the werewolf who previously occupied this position). However, this decision seems responsible when compared to the appointment of a part-human to oversee Care of Magical Creatures.
Harry was already thoroughly disgusted by the article by the time he reached a statement from Draco, and suddenly it made sense why he had been carrying the paper around in his pocket. He was quoted saying that he had been attacked by a hippogriff during one of Hagrid's classes. Harry had read enough.
"We had a deal!" Harry accused, tearing the newsprint in half, "You admitted what happened with Buckbeak was your fault! I gave you my Firebolt!"
Draco had his defense ready, "I stopped them from killing the beast, didn't I? You never said I couldn't tell others that I'd been attacked."
"You might have mentioned it was your own fault for not paying attention!"
"It isn't my fault you're friends with a filthy half-breed," Draco countered, "Aren't mudbloods bad enough?"
Harry's anger had reached its pinnacle. He knew that Hermione wasn't far away, still busy with the unicorns. She was within earshot to have overheard Draco's hateful comments, but then again, so was Neville.
Before Harry could say a word in reply, Neville suddenly broke in to say, "Comments like that are the reason nobody likes you."
Draco's mouth dropped open in shock, but it was not the insult itself that surprised him, it was the fact that Neville Longbottom had dared to speak to him with disrespect. Neville, stunned by his own daring, turned very red and looked down at his feet. Fortunately, Draco barely had time to pick his jaw up off the ground before Grubbly-Plank announced that class was dismissed, and the students began to leave. Darco didn't dare try anything under Grubbly-Plank's watchful eye, but he muttered something to Neville along the lines of "You're going to regret that…"
He stalked away with Crabbe and Goyle following closely, as if to prove that there were at least two people who could stand to be around him.
"Well done, Neville!" Blaise congratulated as Hermione rejoined their group.
"What's going on?" she asked, "What did Neville do?"
Harry was glad that she was spared from overhearing Draco's comment. Neville shook his head with a smile, clearly just as grateful that Hermione had avoided the scene, even if it robbed her of witnessing Neville's greatest moment to date.
It was Harry who changed the subject. He was still worried about the article, and he asked Hermione if she had seen Nell that day. Hermione told him she hadn't seen Nell since the day before, but she would let him know if she turned up in any of their shared classes with Ravenclaw.
On their way back to the castle, Harry satisfied Hermione's curiosity by explaining to her and Millie what he read in the article. Hermione concurred with Harry that the description of Hagrid was nothing but baseless discrimination. She could not see what was so wrong about being half-giant, and Harry readily agreed.
Blaise looked as though he had something to say on the subject, but he was interrupted when they entered the castle doors and he abruptly ducked behind a statue. Harry, glancing further down the hall, spied Daphne Greengrass, surrounded by a group of her five closest friends.
"How long are you planning to keep this up? Harry asked him.
Blaise had been avoiding all three of his dates since the Yule Ball. Now he peeked around the side of the statue, ensuring that Daphne and her entourage had moved on, before he stepped into the open again.
"Until the end of the tournament, when everyone has gone. You don't understand what it was like, Harry. I don't think I could survive another evening with all three of them."
"Why not just pick one?" Millie suggested.
Harry nodded in agreement and added, "What about Daphne? She goes to our school."
He might have mentioned that Daphne was also nice to look at, but Hermione was still standing next to him, and he felt strange talking about another girls' looks while she was near.
Blaise merely shrugged and said, "I just wanted attractive partners for the ball. I'm not interested in a long-term relationship. Why does everyone think you have to date just because you went to one dance?"
Harry wasn't sure it was right of Blaise to avoid his partners, particularly as they had all agreed to attend the ball with him, knowing he was bringing others. But Harry didn't want to start an argument with one of his best friends, and he was more concerned about Skeeter's article than Blaise's love life. He reverted to the subject again, asking Blaise if he thought his mother could do something about the nosy reporter.
"She's tried," he said, "That woman has attacked mum loads of times. I know she'd have used all her connections to get Skeeter sacked, but it only made things worse. The reason she finally stopped writing about mum was because she eventually stopped getting married. I haven't had a step-dad since old Mortimer disappeared."
"Disappeared?" asked Neville.
"Well, that was his job, wasn't it?" Blaise said, a note of defensiveness to his voice. "He worked for the Department of Mysteries. I don't know what he did, exactly. He wasn't allowed to talk about work. But one day he just didn't come home. That was just before I turned eleven. The Ministry ruled his disappearance a work-related accident, and mum was single again."
He paused a moment, then frowned, "It didn't matter that he disappeared from the Ministry itself. Skeeter still managed to make it seem like my mum had a hand in it. Old Morty was well-off, and mum got all his money when he disappeared."
"We know Skeeter lies," Harry said, "But she didn't lie about Hagrid, and she wouldn't have published something that could be easily disproved, otherwise that'd be… What's the word?"
"Libel?" Hermione suggested.
"Exactly. So how did she know about Hagrid? Surely he didn't tell her?"
He could feel himself doubting his own words. Hagrid was chatty and terrible at keeping secrets, especially if he had a few drinks. He couldn't be sure Hagrid wouldn't tell someone about his giant heritage, though he was smart enough to avoid Rita Skeeter. Perhaps someone else ratted him out.
"She could be spying," Millie suggested, "She claims she was at the dance, but I never saw her."
"An invisibility cloak?" Harry thought aloud, thinking of his own sitting in the trunk in his room.
"Those are rare and expensive," Blaise said, "I don't think Skeeter could get her hands on one, but I've heard the Weasley twins are developing something called Extendable Ears."
"Those are still in development," said Neville.
"Maybe she's an animagus?" Millie postulated, "I didn't see her name on the registry, but she could be unregistered, like Sirius was, couldn't she?"
They couldn't be sure. Blaise assured Harry he would write to his mum anyway to ask for her advice.
Midway through January, a Hogsmeade weekend had been scheduled. Harry knew he should be using the opportunity to sneak into the prefects' bathroom and make good on his clue from Cedric, but other things seemed more important at the moment. He had tried to talk to both Hagrid and Nell without any luck. In Hagrid's case, he had shut himself up in his cabin and refused even to open the door. Nell was mysteriously absent from a few of their shared classes, though no one could give Harry any clear information on how she had reacted to Skeeter's article. He decided to see if she would accept an invitation to go to Hogsmeade with him.
"You don't have to be nice to me out of pity," Nell told him, an edge of resentment to her voice.
Harry, hurt by this accusation, was about to back down when Nell abruptly apologized.
"I didn't mean that, Harry," she said, "You've been nothing but kind to me, while others… Anyway, I would like to go to Hogsmeade with you. I could use a break."
And so on Saturday Harry found himself walking toward the gates of the school with Millie, Blaise, and Nell. There was still plenty of snow on the ground, and their breath left their mouths in great puffs of steam. They amused themselves pretending to be Hungarian Horntails for a bit, but were stopped in their tracks by the sight of Viktor Krum. He is standing on the bow of the Durmstrang ship, dressed only in swimming trunks. While they watched him, curious to see what he was doing, he dived from the side of the ship and into the dark waters of the lake.
"He's mad!" Harry shouted, unsure if they should call someone for help, "That water must be freezing!"
The others, sharing his anxiety, waited about a minute longer before they saw Viktor's head bob above the water. He swam a lap back and forth along the hull of the ship. He seemed fine, but Harry still believed he had lost his mind, and said as much to the others.
"I think he's cool!" Blaise replied, lost in admiration, "Do you think Durmstrang is someplace really cold? Remember the fur cloaks they came with?"
"If the two of you are done ogling VIktor Krum, can we get moving?" Nell asked, breathing into her mittened hands for more warmth, "I could use a warm butterbeer."
Harry kept a lookout for Hagrid as they entered the village, hoping his large friend had left his self-imposed isolation in order to seek comfort in his favorite pub. But he had no such luck. Hagrid, never easy to miss, was nowhere to be found.
Harry wished he could say the same for Ludo Bagman. The Minister of Magical Games and Sports was in the Three Broomsticks, seated in a shadowy corner with a malignity of goblins. He didn't look like his usual cheerful self. His mouth was set in a grim line, and he was staring at a particularly cruel looking goblin who was making several disgruntled gestures at him.
Harry was surprised to see him there. No Triwizard event had been scheduled that weekend, so what was he doing so close to Hogwarts?
He was not the only one who had spotted Bagman. Blaise was on the watch. Everyone knew that Bagman had been courting his mother since before the World Cup. If he was into shady business with a bunch of goblins, Blaise would want to know why.
"Fancy getting this round, Harry?" Blaise asked, his eyes still on Bagman as the minister excused himself from his table and walked to the bar.
Harry understood his look. Blaise assumed that Bagman would be more willing to talk to Harry as a Hogwarts champion. Harry agreed to fetch their drinks, but only as a pretense to speak with Bagman and report back anything he learned.
He worried what he would say to the minister, but Bagman proved to be an easy target. He had only to greet Bagman with a simple hello, then watch as the minister's face broke into a smile upon seeing him.
"Harry! Just the man I wanted to see!"
"You wanted to see me?" Harry asked, placing a few silver sickles onto the bar for Madame Rosmerta to prepare their drinks.
"Of course! I've been wanting to congratulate you again on that spectacular performance against the Horntail. Really amazing flying, Harry."
"Thanks," Harry said, keeping his tone light, but not committing himself to say more. He was sure this couldn't be the only thing Ludo had to say, and he knew if he kept his own comments brief, it would leave room for Bagman to do all the talking.
He couldn't help glancing once at the goblins, who had remained at their table but were watching Bagman with dark expressions. Bagman noticed the direction of his gaze and grimaced slightly, saying, "Ah, see you've noticed them. Suppose you want to know what they're doing all the way out here, eh? Well, they're actually looking for Crouch."
"Mr. Crouch?" Harry couldn't help but exclaim, "What do they want him for?"
"I really have no idea," Bagman admitted, "They keep speaking in Gobbledegook, and I don't speak a word… Well, I speak one word. Pickaxe . But I think they might take that the wrong way… Anyway, Crouch being in charge of International Magical Cooperation, there's all kinds who want to speak with him. But he's stopped coming to work."
"Is he sick?" Harry asked.
"His assistant Percy says he is. Apparently he's been getting instructions from him via owl…" Bagman's expression then changed slightly, and he quickly added, "Mind you don't tell anyone about all this, Harry. I shouldn't have mentioned it, what with that Skeeter woman on the hunt for more intel… She'd only twist the facts around, you see? Probably mention that we still haven't found Bertha Jorkins, hint at a conspiracy…"
For the briefest of moments, Harry felt a sense of camaraderie with Bagman over their shared dislike of Rita Skeeter. Then Bagman ruined it by asking Harry about his egg.
"Have you got it all sorted out? Feeling prepared for the second task? It won't be much longer now, and if you're feeling stuck…"
He was offering his help to Harry again, just has he had before the first task. But this time there was no Mrs. Zabini present to provide him with an excuse for his interference. He wondered why Bagman seemed eager to assist him, then he suddenly remembered Snape. The Potions Master had said something about a betting pool during the Yule Ball. It gave Harry an idea.
"Did you place a bet on me to win the tournament?" Harry asked plainly.
It was direct, but effective. Bagman was so embarrassed he made a quick excuse and beat a hasty retreat out of the pub. The goblins, perhaps thinking he was trying to give them the slip, immediately followed him. Bagman hadn't confirmed Harry's suspicion in words, though his reaction certainly told Harry all he needed to know.
He returned with his hands full of butterbeer to the table where his friends waited patiently and explained the conversation he'd had with Bagman. Blaise didn't like the sound of it.
"So Bagman is the gambling type? That could spell bad news for mum," he said, frowning over his mug of butterbeer.
"I was thinking," added Harry, "What if he put my name in the Goblet of Fire? Maybe he wanted to do something shocking to get people's attention on the tournament, then he placed a bet on me as the underdog? It would explain why he keeps offering to help me."
"You think whoever put your name in the Goblet was hoping you would win?" Nell asked. Harry was about to reply, but then he saw the color of her face change. She was looking over his shoulder at someone who had just walked into the pub. Harry turned to see Rita Skeeter, dressed in banana-yellow robes that were completely out of season, in conversation with her faithful photographer.
"We can go somewhere else," Harry said quietly.
Nell started to shake her head, but then they overheard Skeeter talking to her photographer about Ludo Bagman.
"Didn't seem too happy to see us, did he?" she was saying, "And I don't wonder why. Did you see all those goblins he had in tow? Something suspicious going on there…"
"Trying to humiliate someone else?" Nell blurted, as if she couldn't help herself.
The tables around them fell silent as Skeeter turned her head to see who spoke. She looked into Nell's face, took in her clothes and hair, and asked, "I'm sorry, dear. Who are you?"
"Eleanor Willoughby," Nell replied with a defiant look.
"Edward!" Skeeter cried in a delighted voice, "So sorry, my dear boy. I didn't recognize you! And Millie Bulstrode as well, how nice! I'm surprised to see the two of you together. Does this mean you've come to an understanding about Harry?"
Millie jumped out of her seat, attempting to intimidate Skeeter with her size. It didn't work. The reporter merely continued to look at her with a bland smile, her eyes sparkling as she considered the different headlines she would attach to this altercation.
"You're a vile excuse for a witch, you know that?" Millie said, her voice so low it was practically a growl, "Why don't you take the rubbish you publish for the Prophet and put it in a dustbin where it belongs?"
Skeeter was already reaching into her purse for her Quick-Quotes quill, "Can I quote you on that, dearie?"
Millie had simultaneously reached for her wand, "Oh, I'll give you a quote..."
Harry never found out what curse Millie was about to cast on the reporter. Nell had stopped her hand and said, "Don't make it worse. Let's just go."
Millie reluctantly stored her wand back in her pocket. Without another word, she headed for the door. The rest followed her, leaving their butterbeers unfinished.
"You'll be her next target, Millie," Blaise warned as they made their way through the village. Millie appeared to be leading them back to the school.
"Let her try and slander me," she replied with a harsh laugh, "It won't be anything I haven't heard before. Besides, it's about time someone shut that woman up."
Nell walked by Millie's side the rest of the way to the castle. The pair were talking in whispers in a way that did not bode well for Skeeter.
To Harry's surprise, Millie did not direct them to the castle doors, but across the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. Nell continued to walk with them, a look of determination on her face that Harry both admired and feared at the moment. He wondered what resolution the girls had reached during their walk as Millie began pounding loudly at Hagrid's cabin door.
"Open up, Hagrid!" she cried, "It's us!"
"Nobody cares that your mum was a giantess!" Nell called, joining her voice to the sound of Millie's persistent knocking.
Harry, realizing what they were trying to do, added his own voice to the mix, "Everyone knows Skeeter is horrible! Think of what she said about Sirius and Remus!"
The door opened, but rather than Hagrid, they came face-to-face with Albus Dumbledore.
Millie had still been pounding at the door, though she managed to stop her fist just before it collided with Dumbledore's already crooked nose. She fell back in alarm as the four of them stared.
"Good afternoon," said the headmaster with a pleasant smile. He then turned and called back into the cabin, "I don't suppose you heard what your young pupils were saying, Hagrid?"
Harry glanced around Dumbledore's thin form into the darkened interior of Hagrid's cabin. He could see the gamekeeper sitting at his table. Two large mugs of tea were sitting before him, though he wasn't drinking from either. HIs face was blotchy, his eyes swollen from crying, and his hair more wild than Harry had ever seen before.
Dumbledore invited them inside and busied himself with preparing more tea. He drew his wand, conjuring a tea tray from thin air, complete with cakes. The tray floated gracefully down to the table while a few teacups arranged themselves neatly in front of the chairs placed near Hagrid. All the while, Dumbldore had continued to speak in a light, cheerful tone.
"These students of yours seem to want you around, Hagrid. Miss Bulstrode might have knocked down the door had I not opened it when I did."
"Of course we still want him around!" Harry declared, "Do you really think I would listen to anything that Skeeter slug has to say? After everything she wrote about me? About Sirius?"
"Harry's right, you know," Blaise added, "Skeeter's always trying to make people look bad, my mum included. If she says giants are bad, then I suppose there must be some that are… friendly."
"There, you see," Dumbledore said. He had made no objection to Harry describing Rita Skeeter as a slug. This omission was not lost on Harry, who listened to the headmaster with a new respect as he continued, "I have already shared several letters from parents who remember you from their own school days. They have all threatened to send howlers if I sack you. As I stated before, I do not accept your resignation, if only for my own peace of mind."
"Resignation!" Harry gasped, "Hagrid, don't be ridiculous! We want you to come back and teach! Class is boring without you. I would have dropped out a long time ago if you weren't teaching!"
It wasn't entirely a lie. If anyone else taught Care of Magical Creatures the way Hagrid did, then Harry would certainly have dropped the class after the flobberworm episode last year. But his affection for Hagrid would make him put up with any inconvenience, and he cared only about comforting his friend.
Hagrid sniffled, then he finally raised his head to look Harry in the eye, "Yeh're righ'... O' course I know yeh're righ'... I jus thought… Not all people are like you, Harry. There's some… some who'll hold somethin' like this against yeh…"
He sniffled again, and for a moment Harry feared that Hagrid was about to burst into tears. Instead, he cleared his throat, and spoke in a stronger voice, though his eyes were still glassy with tears.
"Yeh know wha', Harry? When I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you was worried yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts... Now look at yeh! School champion! If Dumbledore doesn' mind me saying so, I hope yeh win. It'd show everyone that bein' pureblood don' matter. It'd show 'em… That Dumbledore's righ'. If you can do magic, if yeh've got the talent… Then yeh belong here. We all belong here."
For the first time, Harry really wanted to win the tournament. Yes, he had made a bet with Snape, but he never for a moment believed the professor would actually live up to the bargain if Harry won, just as Harry would never really give up asking about his mother. But this was different. Hagrid believed in him, and Harry started to think it was possible. Maybe he could win this tournament. No, not maybe. He would win. He would win for Hagrid and for Nell and to spite everyone who thought he wouldn't make it. And that included whoever put his name in the Goblet of Fire.
Harry reassured Hagrid that he would do his best, then he left the gamekeeper in Dumbledore's capable hands. If he was going to win this tournament, it was time to put Cedric's clue to the test.