Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Mr. Ollivander and Rita Skeeter
The following week was busier than usual. While Flitwick was on board with organizing a club dinner for Lord Flint to act as a guest speaker for YUP, it took significant effort to get McGonagall's blessing. Mostly because she was being pulled in multiple directions; trying to smooth over hurt feelings with the head teachers from the other schools, trying to stop Sirius from doing something rash, and attempting to work with the ministry to pull Harry away from the clutches of danger, and run a school filled with magical adolescents. Needless to say, a school club throwing a dinner party was the least important thing on her to-do list.
But Flitwick persisted, and by Tuesday we had permission to ask the house elves to cater for the event. I put Neville and Zabini to work by charging them with the task of planning the menu and spreading the word about the last-minute club meeting.
When I wasn't running around to get club stuff organized, I was attending classes and teaching first-years the unlocking charm. When I wasn't pretending to be a model student, Adrian and I were using every spare minute to research the best way to subdue a dragon. Something that made my pass to the restricted section very useful. And any additional free time after that was spent with Fred and George as we tried to make Ron feel like a valued member of the family. Which mostly meant we wasted a lot of time trying to teach an unwilling little brother the finer points of the art of pranking.
Friday couldn't come soon enough. Where I could at least get one thing off my plate. But my busy-body week was nothing compared to Harry's. While Gryffindor was mostly supportive of Harry's title of Hogwarts champion (although, insensitive to his plight), the rest of the school was happy to criticize and isolate the boy. Usually popular and well-liked by everyone but Slytherin house, Harry was having a difficult time as Hufflepuffs scowled at him in the halls and said rude things behind his back. Thank Merlin for Cedric who accept YUP's lead and did his best to offer Harry a kind smile and word when he could. The same could not be said for Finch-Fletchley or MacMillian. Though hopefully, after Friday's dinner, they'd have a change of heart.
With the exception of Luna and Cho, Ravenclaw wasn't much better. Similar to the Hufflepuff students, they started to be just as critical of Harry's shortcomings that they'd been happy to ignore prior to Halloween. However; still unchanging, Slytherin house remained the worst. While Slytherin YUP members kept their opinions to themselves, anyone on the opposite side of the Slytherin divide saw this as a great opportunity to get under Harry's skin. It didn't take Malfoy long before he was passing out badges that stated Adrian was the real Hogwarts champion and claiming Harry has poor hygiene.
Although, Adrian and Cedric made good use of their prefect powers and confiscated any abusive badge they encountered. And having Adrian make a supportive stance when he was the person with the grounds to take the most offense (if you believed Harry entered the tournament on purpose) spoke volumes. So much so that Zabini willingly offered Harry a respite. From what Hermione shared with me, during potions Zabini offered to partner with Harry as Ron was still refusing to talk to him. It was an act that infuriated Malfoy, annoyed Snape, and probably saved Harry's potion's grade.
But finally, Friday arrived. And thanks to my class schedule and position as YUP president, I found myself with a job that, while annoying, got me access to a certain event. "Holly, lovely to see you", Lord Flint greeted as I met him in the entrance hall. "How are you?"
Frowning at his polite smile, I stood by the grand staircase as I waited for him to come closer. "If I tell you the truth, are you going to tattle to Percy?"
A twitch of the left corner of Lord Flint's mouth was the only clue I got of his true emotions. "I did not, how did you state it? 'Tattle' to your older brother", he explained himself as I started to lead; walking up the stairs. This evening, I had the honor of acting as Lord Flint's guide through his appointments. Yay for me. "I merely wished to share with him the humorous letter you sent me. I do enjoy our correspondence. Your letters always break up the monotony. It never occurred to me Percy would find your antics offensive and requiring rebuking".
Uh-huh, I'm sure. I thought as we traveled to our destination. Apparently, due to the impending case involving Harry as the unwilling fourth champion, Lord Flint advised that Harry's participation be closely supervised. As such, he was here for the primary reason of attending the weighing of the wands.
"Marcus enjoyed your letter too", Lord Flint continued as we walked down a hall lined with saluting suits of armor. "He particularly enjoyed the part where you threatened me with Percy. He was more excited to share the letter with your brother than I was".
"You are going to do something about this, right?" I asked as we stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall; cutting through all his rubbish. "Something to get Harry out of this? Or better yet, get the tournament canceled altogether".
Lord Flint stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for me to open the door for him. His face was relaxed and told nothing of his thoughts. It made me want to jinx some feeling into his expression. "Unfortunately, there is little to be done about a magical contract. The best we can do at this point is to control the narrative and make it abundantly clear who is to blame for any wrongdoing surrounding the tournament". Turning my face away from Lord Flint, I scowled at the floor. To hell with magical contracts. That's why there should always be a written-in loophole. "Naturally, I rest assured you can be trusted to fulfill your role in all this".
Hearing Lord Flint's last sentence drew my eyes back to his poised form. "My role?" I asked with a wrinkled brow. "Why would I have a part in any of this?" Or rather, why would I have a direct role in anything tournament related? Indirectly, I was well aware and willing to pull strings from behind a curtain.
Tauntingly, a mastermind-like smile stretched charmingly across Lord Flint's face. "If you would like to find out, I suggest you open the door. It's impolite to keep everyone waiting".
Scoffing, I turned my back to Lord Flint so he couldn't see my eyes rolling. I'll never understand why Percy thinks Lord Flint is such a great, upstanding man. But I opened the door as requested. At this point, I was well-versed in Lord Flint's habits. I wouldn't know what he was talking about until he wanted me to. Controlling the narrative indeed.
Letting Lord Flint go ahead of me, he entered a relatively small classroom. One that is usually empty. But today it was filled with twelve others. "Good afternoon", Lord Flint greeted; immediately taking charge of the room. "Dolores! It's been an age", he said as he approached the toad.
With the other occupants distracted by Lord Flint, I closed the door before quietly moving to stand by Adrian's side. A good thing too, considering Fleur was talking to him; trying to look a little too… alluring.
To make enough room, all the desks and furniture had been pushed up against the walls to leave the middle of the classroom open. All except nine chairs were diligently set up with a table-clothed desk between them at the front of the room. That was where Umbridge sat with Bagman at her side.
Umbridge seemed pleased with the attention Lord Flint paid her before anyone else with her hand gently clasped in his own. Which was an insult to Rita Skeeter's ego, another occupant in the room, if her upturned nose was anything to go by.
"Marius", Rita said once Lord Flint let go of Umbridge's hand. "I was unaware you would be in attendance".
"Ms. Delacour", Adrian interjected politely after Fleur finished describing what sounded like the French countryside. "Please allow me to introduce Holly Weasley. I've had the privilege of courting her these last few years". As if to build upon his words, Adrian offered me his arm and I accepted it without a second thought.
The enticing smile slipped off Fleur's face as she took a step back. "Enchantée", Fleur greeted. To compliment her character, she recovered quickly and did not seem to be put out by discovering Adrian's commitments. Not did she act like she saw them to be a personal challenge. Maybe she would be a good match for Bill.
"It's nice to meet you too", I said in return.
Over by the table, Lord Flint was busy explaining his presence to the ministry officials, Ollivander, Skeeter, and someone who looked like a photographer. "Why are you here?" Adrian asked as I scanned the rest of the room. On one side McGonagall and Sirius student with Madame Maxime and Karkaroff; talking too quietly for me to hear. On the opposite side, Krum stood by himself in a corner; ignoring everyone in the room.
"A privilege of being YUP's president", I shared. "I was asked to help Lord Flint find his way and help him if he needs anything". And then to Fleur, to keep her involved in the conversation, I elaborated, "YUP is a school club Adrian and I are a part of. It's open to anyone. You and your friends are welcome to join while you are here".
Adrian nodded approvingly. "You should come. We're trying to promote unity between the different blood statuses".
Fleur's eyebrows rose symmetrically in delicate arches. "Is zat a concern at 'ogwarts?" She asked. Taking more of an interest than I originally imagined.
"Unfortunately", Adrian answered. "It has caused some unsightly behavior towards a few of our classmates". The fact these students were muggleborns was left unsaid. But the context was clear enough.
"Does Beauxbaton not struggle-"
My question was silenced by Bagman who suddenly stood up from behind the table. "Here he is!" He announced; causing everyone in the room to turn their heads in the direction of the door where Harry stood awkwardly; his hand still resting on the handle. "Come in. Come in, Harry. No need to look so concerned. It's just the wand weighing ceremony".
At the sight of the fourth champion, Fleur's spine stiffened and Umbridge's eyes seemed to adopt a glower. Though the one who had the biggest response to Harry's presence was Sirius. Immediately, he abandoned McGonagall's side to stand close and defensively by Harry. "Alright, Harry?" He asked; ignoring everyone else in the room. Specifically, Rita and her photographer, who had started to whisper urgently to each other.
"What is a wand-weighing ceremony?" Harry asked as his eyes traveled the circumference of the room. Though he seemed to find most comfort in Sirius' presence and chose to maintain focus on his godfather.
"Just a check", Lord Flint answered as he left the table to approach his… new clients, I guess. "It is a way for the ministry to ensure the contestants' wands are fully functioning and up to the task. They wouldn't want a liable accident on their hands, after all". Lord Flint explained a little pointedly as he shared a meaningful look with Sirius. Whether Sirius correctly interpreted the look remained unknown.
"Now, Lord Flint", Umbridge interrupted with flaring nostrils from her chair as the head teachers approached. "You make it sound like the ministry is to blame for this boy's irresponsible and disobedient behavior. It is hardly the ministry's fault if Mr. Potter failed to abide by the protections we provided".
Sirius bristled as soon as Umbridge started speaking. "Harry did not break any rules. He was set up! And it's the Ministry's fault-"
"Now, now", Lord Flint stepped in; physically moving to stand in front of Sirius in order to break the eye contact he had with Umbridge. "While that is why I'm attending; to make sure no further harm comes to my young client as Lord Black's case against the ministry progresses, there's no need to be uncivil". The dark growl Sirius released begged to differ. "We are here today for the contestants, after all".
"Quite right!" Bagman jumped in before anyone else could. "After the ceremony, Rita Skeeter is here to do a small piece about the tournament for the paper. This should be a good time for all participating". Bagman finished with a nervous laugh; aware of the tension in the room, but refusing to acknowledge it.
Adjusting her over-the-top glasses, Rita Skeeter brought attention to herself. "Oh, Ludo. You know me better than that. It won't be a small article". She was practically leering at Harry in her eagerness. It was an expression that made my skin crawl and caused poor Harry to flinch into Sirius' side.
However, despite her efforts, the other occupants were happy to ignore the reporter. "If you are ready, Mr. Ollivander, we shall begin", McGonagall took charge; putting the wizened wandmaker on the spot.
"Ah…" the old man momentarily stammered as all eyes turned to him. "Yes, yes. Of course". Nimble in his old age, Ollivander rose to his feet and waved an arm at a row of four chairs opposite of the desk. "If the champions would please have a seat".
Fleur moved first. Confidently choosing the chair closest to her. She primly crossed her ankles and smoothed out her skirt as Madame Maxime moved to stand behind her. Krum wasn't far behind; picking the chair on the other end of the row. Causing Karkaroff to scurry to take his place. Taking more time than the others, Adrian used his free hand to briefly grip my forearm that rested on his occupied arm before releasing me entirely. He picked the seat next to Fleur. Seeing as there are two Hogwarts champions, McGonagall took up station behind his spot.
That left Harry to sit between Adrian and Krum. While Harry moved to do just that, with Sirius following to stand behind him, Lord Flint moved out of the way. And, of course, he chose to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me. In the time it took for everyone to position themselves, Skeeter managed to ready her quill and parchment. A quick-notes-quill, if I'm remembering correctly. Something that did all the work for her.
Ollivander studied the four champions, his pale grey eyes taking each in turn. He seemed in no rush; seeing reverence in this ceremony that the rest of us did not. "Mademoiselle Delacour", he said calmly after a long moment. "Ladies first. Please step this way".
With the elegance of a debutante, Fleur rose from her chair with practiced ease. Her steps were measured and nearly silent as she approached the table-clothed-covered desk; her wand in hand.
Ollivander accepted it when Fleur handed it over. He hummed to himself as he rolled the wand around in his long, thin fingers. His overgrown eyebrows slanted together as his face took on an air of complete concentration. "Nine and a half inches", he reported with absolute confidence. "Rosewood, and at its core… good heavens!"
"An 'air from a veela", Fleur shared with a proud upturn of her lips; reading Ollivander's response to be one of amazement. "From my own ancestry". After that statement, Fleur briefly redirected her eyes until she was looking over her shoulder in Adrian's direction. Her expression was purposeful.
Ah… right. Fleur was half-veela. I guess the treatment of different blood statuses would be an important topic for her. Though it was good she looked away from the table when she did. Otherwise, Fleur would have seen the distasteful sneer that overtook Umbridge before she managed to conceal it. Madame Maxine, however, did not miss Umbridge's less-than-ideal reaction. If the darkening of Madame Maxine's countenance is anything to judge by.
"Yes", Ollivander breathed; sounding like Flitwick does when one of his students makes an insightful academic observation. "I've never used veela hair myself. Too temperamental for my wands. However, it is always an honor to see what other wandmakers create". Olivander kept Fleur's wand for a moment longer; checking for scratches or bumps before trying out the wand for himself. "Orchideous!" He cast, conjuring flowers to burst into existence.
"Yes, yes. This will do nicely", he said as he handed both the wand and the flowers to Fleur. As Fleur returned to sit in front of her headmistress, Ollivander's eyes swept over the champions once more. "Ah, Mr. Pucey. If you would be willing".
Adrian already had his wand in hand as he approached the table. With great respect, Adrian held the tip of his wand in one hand and its handle in the other. He offered it to Ollivander with a small incline of his head. "This one I recognize", Ollivander said, mostly to himself, as he plucked it from Adrian's hands; regarding it with the same level of respect as Adrian had presented it. "Having made this wand myself, of course, I would recognize my own work. Dragon heartstring", Ollivander announced as his fingers danced along the pale-colored wood. He seemed to take particular interest in the Celtic knots he had carved into the handle of the wand more than any other part. "Twelve inches exact. The wood is yew. Very fierce. Very loyal…" Ollivander trailed off as he held Adrian's wand up to the light to examine it more closely. "Yes, I remember now…" From how he was behaving, it was like Ollivander thought he was alone in the room. But the moment ended when Ollivander twisted his wrist and sent a ribbon of glistening steam streaming over his head from the tip of Adrian's wand. "All in working order", he declared as he returned the wand to Adrian.
"Next…" Ollivander said slowly as Adrian reclaimed his spot between Fleur and Harry. "Mr. Krum. Step right up".
Krum moved like a wrestler. He walked with heavy feet and kept his shoulders rounded as he approached the table. Like he was unsure of his own strength, Krum just about shoved his wand into Ollivander's hands. Not that Ollivander was complaining.
He accepted the wand with eager curiosity. "This is of Gregorovitch's make. I'll always be able to recognize his work. His styling always stands out". Ollivander raised the wand to his eye level as Krum shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was unclear to me if his fidgeting was out of impatience or anxiousness. "Hornbeam and dragon heartstring, correct?" Ollivander asked. Krum only responded with a stunted nod. "Ten and a quarter inch", Ollivander reported. "Yes, this wand is quite fond of you", Ollivander declared before casting, "Avis!" Lick a car backfiring, the wand jerked in Ollivander's hold as a dozen finches soared into being. Twittering like mad, the birds made a beeline for the open window; making a break for freedom while the opportunity was available.
"Excellent", said Ollivander; satisfied as he handed the wand back to its owner. "Lastly, Mr. Potter", Ollivander said; his eyes falling on the youngest present as Krum stomped back to his chair with a relieved sort of slump in his shoulders.
Before approaching the wandmaker, Harry looked up at Sirius first. Sirius gave him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, and only then did Harry leave his chair. Harry was hesitant in handing over his hand. As if he was afraid he wouldn't get it back. Not that Ollivander seemed to notice. "Another one of mine", Ollivander exclaimed. "I remember…"
Harry drummed the fingers of his left hand against his leg as Ollivander turned his wand over in his hands just like he had done with all the others. "Eleven inches. Made from holly. And a phoenix tail feather at its core".
Yes, I thought as Ollivander rand his hand over Harry's wand; feeling the natural bumps left in the wood. A phoenix feather from Fawkes. Just like the feather in You-Know-Who's wand. And just like the feather I currently have tied in my hair.
"Supple. Same as the day when you bought it", Ollivander reported as he made wine shoot out from the wand like it was a bloody fountain. "Your wand is quite content", Ollivander informed Harry as he handed the wand back. Turning to face Bagman and Umbridge, Ollivander nodded once. Giving Harry time to retreat. "All wands are in excellent condition. I have no concerns".
"Wonderful", Bagman said energetically as he clapped his hands together once. "Well, that's not all we have for you today-" He started to say; addressing the champions.
Though Skeeter wasn't having it. "Just a moment, Ludo", she spoke up; reminding everyone she was there. "My article".
"Ah, yes". Bagman paused as he glanced around the room; thinking before his eyes returned to Skeeter. "How would you like to proceed?"
Very much pleased by the power that question afforded her, Skeeter wasted no time. "My photographer will remain here to start collecting pictures. While I would like to interview the champions one at a time". Her eyes zeroed in on Harry. An action that caused Sirius to clamp both his hands down on Harry's shoulders in a warning. From his spot next to me, I felt Lord Flint prepare himself. "How about we start with the youngest?"
"Absolutely not", Sirius said forcefully. Not even a second had passed from when Skeeter proposed her idea.
Displeased, Skeeter's lips pursed. "I need access to the champions to write the article".
Clearing his throat, Lord Flint stepped forward. "Please remember, Rita. Mr. Potter is underage. As it were, he is unable to give his consent to participate in any interviews. As his guardian, it is Lord Black's right to protect his godchild's image. And as you well know, printing anything about minors can cause a writer to come under great legal scrutiny". Lord Flint paused to let his words sink in.
I was impressed, even though I didn't want to be. But when he had both Skeeter and Umbridge looking both upset and cowed, arguably two of my least favorite people, it was hard to not appreciate what Lor Flint was accomplishing. "I suggest an expose on the tournament featuring all four champions. After all, Ms. Delacour is enchanting. Mr. Krum is legendary". Lord Flint's comments had both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff perking up. "And Mr. Pucey is a bit of a dark horse, as I've come to know. I'm sure your readers would like to learn of these fine young people".
One glance around the room made it clear everyone was convinced Lord Flint's plan was ideal. Everyone except Skeeter, who was still frowning stubbornly; her glass glinting forebodingly. "I'm sure you remember, Rita", Lord Flint continued having read her expression. "I promised you a story worthy of the front page only a few months ago. It will still be yours if you can only grant me your patience a while longer".
Well… that was a frightening statement for Lord Flint to make.