Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada…hey wait! I own Anita. Cool J

A Quick Note: Another testament to my lack of intelligence. In my last chapter I left out the word "not" in a very important place. Hermione was not made a Prefect. Sorry for the mistake. And now for something completely different.

Chapter 6

In almost no time at all, the three friends were nearly done with their shopping. Harry got his new robes, Ron some calming potion for Pig, and Hermione everything but the kitchen sink. The afternoon was going by uneventfully. They ran into a few of their classmates. They all looked pretty cheerful, but there also seemed to be a bit of apprehension with discussing the new year. Harry didn't know if they were recalling the past year's events or if they really did think Harry was unbalanced, but there was uneasiness with their run-ins with fellow students. Either way, Harry found it unsettling.

As they left the Apothecary, Hermione crossed another item off her list.

"There! Now we just need to go to Flourish and Blotts to get our new textbooks, and then we'll be done. Here Ron, hold this for a second," Hermione handed him her bag of potions ingredients.

"Sure thing. My arms haven't fallen off yet, but this should do the trick," Ron said facetiously as he grabbed the bag with his last open finger.

"I knew you wouldn't mind."

Harry started to laugh at how Ron became a walking mass of boxes and bags. He stopped and pondered. Why is Ron carrying all of Hermione's things? Just as he was about to ask, a familiar yet unwelcomed voice came from behind him.

"Are you trying to earn extra money by being the mudblood's servant, Weasley?" It was Draco. "I'll give you a knutz if you shine my shoes. Two if you do a good job."

Ron almost dropped the packages he was carrying as he whirled around in anger. "Shut up, ferret boy, or else I will make you wish you were a muggle!"

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of confusion; they didn't see how this was an effective insult.

"Oh look, you have the world renowned nutter with you as well. How have the voices in your head been, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

"Well, I was arguing with them about who had more intelligence, you or a flobberworm. They did cite some interesting evidence for the flobberworm," Harry replied as coolly and seriously as he could. "You see, they said that-"

However, Harry's explanation was cut off by the arrival of another person: Lucius Malfoy.

"There you are Draco," the older Malfoy was walking towards the younger. He glanced over to see whom his son was talking to and stopped when he saw it was Harry. Lucius gave Harry a look of utter disgust and contempt. "Come on, son. I have a few more errands to run."

Seeing the older Malfoy again must have struck a nerve in Harry because what came out of his mouth was completely unexpected: "So did your master give you the day off, or are you on official Deatheater business?"

Silence. That was all. Ron, Hermione, Lucius, Draco, and everyone within earshot stood still, silently staring at Harry. His eyes remained fixed on Lucius and flashed with a strange and frightening intensity. As Harry stood there, he could only think of how close Lucius was to the creature that had taken his family and caused him so much pain.

Lucius slowly turned around to face the boy. He was trying his best to look nonchalant. However, it wasn't working too well; Harry's outburst had gotten to him. Not only that but a crowd had formed to see what was going on. The man gave a weak smile (if one could call it that) and tried to play it off.

"I'm sorry, but did you say something?" he asked cautiously, daring Harry to say it again.

"You heard me and so did everyone else," Harry's eyes didn't leave the tall, gaunt man for a second.

Lucius walked to Harry and bent down so that they were face to face. In a low voice so that only Harry could hear, he said, "I wouldn't have done that, Potter. You would be so lucky to die as your parents did, but wait and see what we have in store for you." He then stood up and walked away briskly with Draco in tow.

Murmuring and getting one last good look at the scene, the crowd dispersed. Harry was still staring at place where the two Malfoys faded into the crowd. As the reality of what just transpired settled in, Harry's knees gave out and he sank to the ground. Ron and Hermione quickly ran to him.

"Harry, what in the world did you think you were doing, approaching Malfoy like that?! Honestly, it looked as though you were possessed," Hermione chided as she and Ron each grabbed an arm and helped Harry to the nearest bench.

"Yeah, what was that? I mean, it was great seeing you call him out in public, but it was still a stupid thing to do," Ron said as he set down their packages.

Harry buried his face in his hands and tried to steady himself. "I don't have a clue what just happened. All I know is that when that slimy Malfoy walked up, I just felt so angry. I remembered how no one believes me about what happened, the role he played in bringing Voldemort back, and he is an 'upstanding citizen,'" Harry looked up at his two friends, who looked back with looks of concern. "I didn't feel like myself just then. Something, the anger perhaps, took control of me. If he stuck around any longer, I… I don't know."

"Look, it is a terrible situation, but things will change. Trust me. Dumbledore, my dad, Sirius, and everyone else are all working hard to find a solution to this mess. And if push comes to shove, we'll show You-Know-Who a thing or two!" Ron said as he tried to strike a heroic stance.

"You were doing fine until you said that last thing," Hermione said, shaking her head. Ron sadly dropped his pose. He didn't appreciate Hermione stealing his thunder.

"Let's finish getting our supplies. I'm feeling a bit worn out and my head kind of hurts," Harry said. Rubbing his forehead, he got to his feet and started walking in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, shrugged, and followed Harry.

They walked into Flourish and Blotts and proceeded to gather all of their books. As Harry and Ron were trying to find their divination books, Harry noticed someone standing at the other end of the isle. She looked odd, but at the same time familiar with her sharp features and curly blond hair. The woman was also wearing vivid teal robes and rectangular fuchsia glasses. Harry wouldn't have taken notice of her except that she was intently staring at him and Ron.

He turned to Ron and said, "I think the books are this way."

"The clerk said they would be h-," but Ron was cut off as Harry grabbed his collar and dragged him down a few isles. When Harry felt that they were far enough away, he let go of Ron and looked cautiously around.

"Merlin's beard, what is up with you?! Why'd you do that?" Ron complained while straightening his shirt.

"Someone was watching us. She looked familiar and not in a good way," he explained in a whisper. They both moved to the end of the isle and looked. No one there. They turned back around and let out a startled yell. The woman had sneaked up behind them.

Very quickly, she blurted out, "Hi. How are you? I'm doing fine thanks. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions. Thanks! First, I wanted to ask you why-."

"Hey wait a minute!" Harry yelled. "Who are you and why do you want to ask me a few questions?"

"Oh, did I not introduce myself? How silly of me. I'm Anita Skeeter, special correspondent for the Daily Prophet. I was hoping to interview you for an article I am writing. So, about those questions, why did you-,"

"NO! No questions! I know you, or at least your sister. She did a fine job of interviewing me last year, and if I am not mistaken, not to long ago you wrote an article about me. You said I was mad!" Harry said angrily.

"What's going on here?" Hermione asked. She caught sight of Anita. "Who are you? You look familiar…"

"This is Anita Skeeter, sister to the ever wonderful Rita," Ron said as he rolled his eyes.

"Rita's sister? Really? How is your sister? I haven't seen an article by her in a long time. Is she on holiday or something?" Hermione asked innocently. Harry and Ron stifled their laughter as they recalled how Hermione made Rita promise not to write for a year.

Anita's fake smile faded a bit. "Yes, well, she felt as though a lot of stress was put on her during her coverage of the Triwizard. When she got back, she decided to travel, and I took her place."

"Well, what a shame. Such a loss to the journalism community. Are you two about done?" Hermione asked the two boys.

"I'll go grab the divination books and then we can go," Ron said and walked off to get the books. "I'll meet you two up front."

"Come on, let's go pay," Hermione said, gently pulling on Harry's sleeve.

"Fine. I don't feel like a one-on-one right now," he said. They walked off towards the front counter. However, Anita wasn't about to give up.

"I can understand why you would be hesitant to talk to me. You've been given a bad rap by other writers-."

"By your sister and you," Harry said pointedly. He put his books up on the counter right as Ron walked up.

"Point taken, but I want to change that. I know you're not mad and I want tell everyone that. However, I need you to answer some questions to help me do so."

"Hmmm… let me think," said Harry thoughtfully. He gave the clerk his money and gathered his books. He turned to Anita. "I've thought about it: no." Harry walked out of the store where Ron and Hermione were waiting. They all gave a short, condescending wave to Anita through the window and walked off.

"I thought that it was bad enough having a person like Rita in the world," Hermione said. "Just our luck she has a sister."

"All you have to do is wait for her to turn into her animagus form and then you can put her in a jar," Ron suggested.

"Yeah, you can have a whole collection of animagus reporters," Harry added.

"Seriously, you two. It was bad enough with Rita around. Now we have her sister to contend with. Rita probably told her all about what I did to her, and now we might have a sister who is out to settle a score." Hermione said with all the seriousness she could muster.

"Well, I don't think that much is going to stop her," Ron said while staring ahead.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because she is standing right where we are supposed to meet my mum," Ron replied. Sure enough, right by the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron was Anita in all of her gaudy glory.

"She's worse than a garden gnome!" Harry said with exasperation.

Anita started towards the three and opened her mouth to ask them a question. Thankfully that was all she had a chance to do. Fred and George stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

"Get out of the way you bloody twits," she hissed.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to make an appointment," Fred declared importantly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter is a very important man and we can't have nosy reporters bugging him all the time," George added.

"Well I never-," huffed Anita.

"That's right, you won't unless you make an appointment," George said definitively.

"Here's our card. Don't call us we'll call you," Fred handed her a bit of parchment that resembled a business card. The two then walked over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron so that they could all go inside the Leaky Cauldron, but were stopped abruptly as they heard the reporter yell.

"This is a coupon for a free chocolate frog! Get back here! I want my interview!"

Before anyone could respond, fate intervened in the form of Mrs. Weasley with Ginny right behind.

"I'm sorry but were my boys bothering you?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I was trying to conduct an interview, and your little gits are getting in the way!" the furious Anita responded.

"She shouldn't have said that," Ron said in a low voice. Ginny saw what was coming as well, and walked briskly to join the others. Fred and George just stood there grinning from ear to ear; their mum yelling at someone else was always a good show. It was just bad for the person receiving.

"Little gits, eh? And just who are you trying to interview?" Mrs. Weasley had a dangerous glint in her eye and tone in her voice.

"I was just trying to ask Harry about a few things, and who are you to be asking me questions?" Anita glared.

"Harry is under my responsibility at the moment, and will not have you or anyone else hassling him. That poor boy has been through so much, and I am not about to see him go through the wringer again. How dare you! Do you not have any decency? Have you no respect for other peoples' lives? With your type, it's always 'If it bleeds, it leads.' Well, let's see if you like it if you are the one bleeding… no wait. That would make me as bad as you. Leave us alone!" Mrs. Weasley started to walk off, but then turned back around. "Oh and how dare you insult my children! I am downright proud of them for trying to stop you, you silly troll!"

Anita was rooted where she stood and could only stare at the other woman with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. After a few seconds, the shock faded a bit and Anita responded. "Fine then, I won't ask Harry any questions. Frankly I have enough information to write my article. Have a nice day," She turned on her heel and stormed off.

Mrs. Weasley gave one last indignant look in her direction and walked over to where Harry and the others were standing.

"Right-o mum!" Fred cheered.

"That's the way to handle the press!" George said as he put his arm around her shoulders.

"Um… thanks Mrs. Weasley," Harry said weakly. He was kind of afraid of the mother now.

"Oh, it's alright," she said with a genuine smile. "These reporters simply have no manners, and no ethics to boot. Who was she anyway?"

"Anita Skeeter, sister of the ever popular Rita," Hermione answered.

"Well, no wonder! Just like her sister. What happened to Rita anyway? Why is her sister doing her work?"

"Vacation I think," Hermione said innocently.

"It's getting late," Mrs. Weasley announced. "It's time that we all went home. Are you going to be okay in the cab by yourself, Harry?

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied. "Thanks for having me around and getting rid of Anita."

"No problem at all. Now let's get a move on."

*****

The cab ride home was going along uneventfully. Hermione accompanied Harry since Mrs. Weasley didn't want him to go it alone. He and Hermione were talking about their summer vacations and what new things they would learn this year. Harry thought that what they learned didn't matter as long as it was completely boring. He certainly could use a dull moment. The conversation gave way to silence; both were trying to think of pleasant topics. They rode along in the silence for a few moments until Harry remembered something that he wanted to ask Hermione and Ron earlier.

"Hey Hermione. I was wondering what's the-."

But Harry didn't get to finish his question. The driver had slammed on the brakes and Harry was pitched forward, hitting his head on the front seat. Hermione was pitched forward but stopped by her seat belt; Harry's must have been broken.

"Sorry 'bout that. Cat in the road," the cabbie half-hearted apologized.

"Yeah, okay," Harry said. Pain was pulsating though his head thanks to the impact. He winced as he touched the bump on his head, as if he needed reassurance that it was still there. The resurgence of pain should have been evidence enough. The cab started forward again, and Harry leaned back in his seat.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione's face was of pure concern.

"I'm fine. It's just a headache," he mumbled.

"I meant with everything that was going on. I know that I don't know everything that is going on, but this isn't the time for you to hold things back or hide them. We want to help you and-."

"I know, I know. You're my friends and you'll always be there. Well, I am sorry. There isn't much you can do to help," he didn't know why he snapped at Hermione like this. He did regret it when he saw the wounded look on Hermione's face. It was just that the sum of the horrible events in Diagon Alley and no sleep left Harry on edge. Even though she meant well, Hermione's concern seemed patronizing and naïve to him. Before he could say anything, the cab pulled up in the Dursleys' driveway. Harry paid his portion and gathered his purchases.

"I'll see you on the train," He said without much emotion and walked quickly inside the house. He closed the door and didn't move till he heard the cab drive off. Slowly, he walked up the stairs to his room and put his new things away. I should've said I was sorry, he thought, I'll send her a letter and explain.

Once his new robes were neatly packed in his trunk, Harry went back downstairs to get something to eat. As he walked pass Dudley's room, he heard the familiar noises of exploding aliens and foreign worlds being conquered, digitally speaking. Maybe they didn't notice that I was gone. It was the least he could hope for.

As Harry was making a sandwich, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Unfortunately due to Dudley's recent weight gain (the diet didn't quite work), he couldn't tell whether the person was Vernon or Dudley. It was hard to distinguish one fat footfall from another. Harry finished making his sandwich right as Dudley peered into the kitchen.

"Where were you all day?" he asked.

"Out," Harry replied nonchalantly as he took bite of his sandwich. After that first bite, he realized just how incredibly hungry he had been.

Dudley's eyes narrowed at Harry as he stepped into the kitchen. "You were out with your weird friends weren't you? Did dad say you could go?"

"Couldn't ask. He was still passed out, and I didn't care," Harry's patience for the blob was wearing thin. He just wanted to eat his sandwich and go to sleep.

"You'll care when he and mum get home," Dudley jeered.

"And you'll care when my godfather comes for a visit," Harry said as he walked past his cousin and up to his room. That'll shut him up.

Harry closed the door and sat down at his desk. He picked up a quill and grabbed some parchment so that he could begin to write an apology to Hermione. For a moment, he considered telling her about the mysterious letters, but decided against it. If Dumbledore knew and couldn't advise much, what could Hermione and Ron do? Worry more? That certainly wouldn't help the situation.

It was getting late and exhaustion had begun to sink in. Seeing as how Hedwig wasn't even around, Harry figured he would write the apology tomorrow. He moved from desk to bed with a quick stumble and lay there. It had been almost two full days since he had slept, and he could move no more. Harry did manage to take his glasses off before he drifted off. It felt good to finally rest.

*****

Tap tap tap… tap tap tap.

Harry sleepily opened his eyes. He had only been asleep for a couple of hours. He rolled over towards the sound of the tapping. It was coming from the window. When this sunk in, Harry sat up, wide-awake. That had better not be what I think it is.

Cautiously, he got up and approached the window. Nothing was out there, except a letter with the plain wax seal and no writing on the front. Even though a fierce wind was blowing, the letter didn't move at all. It was as though there was an invisible paperweight on it.

Harry opened the window and picked up the letter. His heart was racing and sweat poured down his face as he turned it over. Just as he started to open it, he stopped. What if I don't open it? Worth a try I suppose. He gripped the sides and ripped the letter in half. A few wisps of smoke trickled out of the halves and fell out of his hands as it disintegrated into a fine powder. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned to go back to bed.

Tap tap tap.

Harry whirled around. His heart sank as he saw another letter sitting on the sill. Not good, he thought as he picked up the new letter. How could he do that? How did he know that I ripped up the first one? He couldn't be here…could he? Harry desperately looked out the window; he couldn't see anyone in the street, the yard, or the neighbor's yards. He even turned himself around to try and see if anyone was on the roof. He couldn't see anyone or anything.

Harry pulled himself back inside. He returned his attention to the letter in his hand. I really don't want to, but I somehow feel that I have to. He pulled up the seal and flicked the parchment open.

Good to see you out and about. My, you really did get under Lucius' skin. Your cutting remark and defiant attitude reminded me of someone. And how about that Anita? I'm sure you wouldn't mind cursing that nosy reporter into oblivion. Good thing for her your friends intervened.

But I am sure these incidents are far from your mind, especially after the spat with your female companion. Why didn't you tell her about our little talks? I'm sure that you didn't want her to worry more. Too bad Dumbledore doesn't have clue about what to do about this situation. Perhaps he and I should have a one-on-one about it.

I suppose I will let you sleep now. Merlin knows you need it. Until next time, adieu.

V.

As soon as Harry finished reading, the letter flew out his hand and burst into the usual sickly green flames. Harry's head filled with intense blinding pain and his scar burn worse than ever. Everything seemed to be worse than ever, as though he was being punished for ripping up the first letter. He fell to the floor and writhed in pain for what seemed like hours. All Harry could think was, Why?

Author's Note: Hurray! The fall semester is over. I did relatively well and now anxiously await a much more relaxed spring semester. Hopefully with fewer classes, I might have time to post more than twice. As a sort of apology for the lack of postings, I made this chapter basically twice as long. Merry Christmas! I hope everyone likes it. I thank those of y'all who still check up on me. It means a lot to me. Really, it doesJ Don't forget to review! Oh and tell your friends! Happy Holidays! Now it is time for me to sleep.