Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, the "end" of He-who-must-not-be-named; now called a liar, a nutcase, a nuisance, to wizard-kind--sits across from me looking completely distrusting. Perhaps he's had reason to do so in the past, but not now. I'm not the one who's been writing all of the...hidden insults (if they're not hidden, then they're badly thought out insults) that are showing up in the Daily Prophet...not that I don't want to...

I sigh and bring out a regular quill from my purse. I haven't used it since...I can't remember. I put away my quick-quotes quill, grudgingly. That little wench. She knows that if it weren't for her knowledge then I would still be on top, with money, a reputation...and my favorite quill. She's smart. That's not a bad thing. The fact that she knows it is a bad thing.

I've pulled out a piece of parchment and I'm looking at Harry. He's taller and a lot thinner than he was last time. Not much taller, a lot thinner. He unhealthy. I can tell that either he hasn't noticed or he doesn't care. Probably the latter.

I'm trying to look relaxed, but my mind is storming with the knowledge that I'm getting no money from this, and that I have the opportunity to ask him anything and he'll probably answer. He's agreed to this. He's a person of his word, I know that. He had a chance to rat me out, after all that I'd written about him he still promised his friend not to tell. And he didn't.

I like him. I've never met anyone like him. Most other famous people are vile and arrogant...disgusting. Most. Some are like him...but I can still see something different about him. Those who aren't arrogant at least know what they're doing. The only time when Harry seems to be in his element is when he's by himself. Strange. There aren't many people like that. Most people need each other. It's instinctive. Perhaps Harry's had too much of other people...

Now come the questions.

Easy ones first (I haven't asked questions and listened so closely for years). I'm not interested in these answers. Basically just things about him and his parents...what he thinks about things....matter-of-fact things that flow easily. Harry's calming. He doesn't know that the hard ones are coming next. But his friend does...the other girl....she's weird. She keeps staring off into space...humming some song....

Now...the first hard one....

I ask him what He-who-must-not-be-named looks like.

His eyes dart from his fingernails, which he was absentmindedly inspecting, up to my face. A sorrowful look comes into his eyes and he shivers while again his eyes change. Now they look glassy, as if he's not really here.

He tells me.

I write it down, feeling the shiver run around our table.

I ask him to name some Death Eaters.

He does. I write them down, disbelieving.

I ask him what happened during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament...until he turned up at the end.....

He tells me. Slowly.

Strange how something that I want to know so urgently, something that I've been thirsting to hear for more than half a year, comes to be so slowly. Harry's still in that other place...the pit of his memories. He's letting the pictures run through his mind before he lets them out in a drizzle of words. My hand is working quickly and is already cramping up. He stops many times, but I'm sure it's not so that I can catch up with him. He's remembering. Either that or thinking about what he should say.

I can almost imagine it....the snake, the potion, the Death Eaters...the cruciatus curse (when Harry tells of this he grimaces)...the duel....the man....

When he gets to the part about something called "priori incantatem" he stops. He stops for a very long time. His friend tries to urge him to go on. His throat is constricting and I can see his Adam's apple sliding along his skin. He pulls his fingers through his hair, takes in a shaky breath and goes on.

His parents came out of his enemy's wand. The effects of priori incantatem. Other people came out too, but I could tell that, to Harry, the others weren't nearly as important.

The only thing left after this was for Harry to say how he got away. He told, I wrote it down.

Then we were done. As I left I felt awkward. Sad, almost. Almost. I never feel sad.

* * *

SEND TO: Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic

SENT FROM: Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic

Have you seen this article in the Quibbler? Unbelievable! I want to know how and when he gave this interview and I want you to do what you can to stop the news of it. This boy needs to be stopped. Not that I'm worrying. The Ministry is still rising high above him and Dumbledore, but I don't want any mistakes to be made that might set off a panic.

* * *

SEND TO: Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic

SENT FROM: Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic

I've already banned the magazine from the school, but the news traveled too fast for me to do much. Rumors. Only rumors and lies, Cornelius. That's all. They'll die down soon. Don't worry, I have it all under control. Apparently the boy gave the interview during the last Hogsmeade visit. I've banned him from Hogsmeade visits.

* * *

Dear Dad,

Yes, Harry did get in trouble because of that interview. But now Hermione reckons that more people are believing his story. He got a bunch of letters from people who believed him the day it came out. All of the teachers are happy too, you can tell. I'm not sure I should've told you that. But Professor Trelawney stopped predicting Harry's death on Wednesday...

Sorry, I have to go. Hermione's bugging me to help out with prefect duties.

Ron

P.S. Don't tell Mum that last bit. She'd say I have more pride in being a prefect...

* * *

SEND TO: Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic

SENT FROM: Percy Weasley, Court Scribe

I have read the article by the Potter boy in the Quibbler, sir. And I think it is quite certain that no one who reads it will believe the story. It is completely ridiculous, more like a child's daydream than anything else. Believe me. The only people who are still thinking that the boy is sane now are his closest friends.

* * *

Dear Annie,

Yep, I read the story about that Potter kid. I think he's the biggest liar in the world. Either that or he belongs in St. Mungo's. I'm quite glad that I never went to school with him. I wouldn't like to meet a kid like that. I'm sure he's crazy.

Send my regards to your mother and thank her for the cake that she sent me.

Your cousin,

Heather

* * *

Heather,

I think you're wrong. Think of all the good things that were written about him last year! I think the Daily Prophet's just trying to make him look bad, and they're doing a good job of it, obviously, since you believe that dung that they keep saying about him. And even if you never went to school with him, I did, and he never seemed insane to me!

Annie.