Ch. 10

Harry was forced to stop hiding when the classes started the following day. Everyone in the school seemed to believe that Harry had entered his name, though only Gryffindor was impressed. The Hufflepuff House took it as a personal insult and, though normally on good terms with Gryffindor, gave Harry the cold shoulder.

Much to Harry's surprise, Draco and his Slytherian gang didn't bother him as much as he had thought that they would. Then again, the Slytherians seemed to have deemed Sloane as a secondary leader next to Draco, and Sloane was on Harry's side. Sure Draco had to tease Harry, but on a Malfoy teasing scale of one to ten, it was merely a three.

In Care of Magical Creatures, it was discovered that the Skrewts had taken to eating each other. Hagrid suggested that they take their Skrewts for a walk to work off that extra energy.

The Skrewts had grown to over three feet long. They were no longer shell-less and colorless, but now sported a thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs.

Sloane happily located 'Bob' and 'Mary Sue', helping Harry put the leash around 'Mary Sue's' middle. Harry figured that Sloane was really happy over the fact that 'Bob' was still alive and Ron's Skrewt had been made into lunch. He even caught Sloane telling 'Bob' that Ron would taste good with ketchup.

Things were rather lonely for Harry all week. It was like in his second year when people thought he was the one using Death Magic. Then again, he had Sloane and Ron at his side, and Sloane was suspected as well. Now, it was just Hermione by his side, while Sloane showed his support when he could.

Harry was in for a shock on Friday when he arrived at the dungeons for Potions. On every single Slytherian's robes (minus Sloane), there was an acid green badge with red, luminous letters. Harry squinted and actually took a step towards Draco to read the badges.

Support Cedric Diggory - The Real Hogwarts Champion!

"Like them, Potter?" Draco asked.

"Oh, lovely. I'm sure you'll have a grand career in button making when you graduate, Malfoy," Harry said.

"And this isn't all they do - look!" He pressed the badge on his chest and the message changed from red to forest green. It now read Potter Stinks with a picture of Harry. The Slytherians howled in laughter, pressing their buttons to flash the message at their intended victim. Sloane looked slightly amused, but Harry was sure that his brother wasn't laughing at him.

"Oh, very funny," Hermione said sarcastically. "Very witty."

"Want one, Granger?" Draco asked, holding out a badge. Next to him, Sloane raised one dark eyebrow in surprise. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I don't want Mudblood slime on it."

Sloane rolled his eyes. It seemed as if Draco was feeling a bit evil this day. He had verbally attacked both Harry and Hermione. Frankly, Sloane almost wished that his 'evil Slytherian influence' had rubbed off on Hermione. The first Gryffindor who insulted him by saying he carried slime would be receiving a wet one on the lips and a huge bear hug.

"Don't you talk about Hermione like that!" Ron roared. He wouldn't come to Harry's defense, but he'd fight tooth and nail for Hermione.

It took Sloane a second to realize that Ron had his wand out. He could see by Harry's expression that he was torn between letting Ron hex Draco and trying to get him to back down.

"Ron!" Hermione said, the warning clear in her voice.

"Go ahead, Weasley." Draco said quietly as he drew his wand. "Moody's not here to protect you."

There was a split second before they both yelled their spells.

"Furnunculus!" Draco shouted.

"Densaugeo!" yelled Ron.

What happened next would live on in the chronicles of Hogwarts History forever. Draco's spell hit Ron, but Ron's spell was off by a few inches and went towards Sloane. Sloane raised his wand hand, pointing the wand down to the floor as he yelled something that was lost as Ron's spell hit a barrier and bounced. However, it rebounded right at Hermione, striking her.

Hermione gave a cry, her hands flying up to hide her mouth. Boils were springing up on Ron's face and Hermione's teeth, already a little larger then average, had grown down to her collar. Sloane looked horrified as he saw what he had accidentally done.

"What is going on?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived and was observing the scene with cold eyes. The Slytherians clamored to tell him their version, but he merely pointed to Sloane.

"I-I-I-" Sloane stammered, still staring at Hermione. "Opps,"

"Weasley attacked me, sir. His spell went off course and Sloane had to block it." Draco explained. Snape barely glanced at him as he took in the damage.

"What kind of block, Mr. Mars?" Snape asked.

"I don't know it's real name, sir." Sloane said, his voice distant. "Mom calls it the Playground Block."

"Playground Block?"

Seeing that his brother was still horrified over harming Hermione, Harry stepped forward. "If I may explain, sir?"

Snape nodded, a bit relieved that Harry had asked for permission instead of just barging on. There was still chattering around them from his students, wanting to chime in with their versions during each pause.

"The Playground Block causes the spell to bounce off and go back to the caster. It operates much like a Shield, but with more elasticity. The spell is rebounded with more force then it is cast. However, since the spell hit the Block at an angle, it rebounded at an angle and hit Hermione." Harry said.

Snape finally looked at Ron and Hermione, the two casualties in the hallway fight. With a sneer he told them to go to the hospital wing, and took fifty points from Gryffindor for fighting in the halls.

Sloane decided to stay by Harry during the lesson. As they set up, he whispered that he was sorry for hitting Hermione.

"I'm sure she knows you didn't mean it," Harry whispered back. He didn't bother stating that he wished that Sloane would stick up for him a little bit more, but he understood that it had to be hard on Sloane. He was finally welcomed in a House, but Harry was their favorite target.

"Antidotes!" Snape said as he started the class. His dark eyes glittered unpleasantly, resting on Sloane and Harry. "You should have prepared your antidotes by now. If you did them correctly and carefully, then you have nothing to fear. If not, then this can be painful. I will be selecting a volunteer ("Victim," Sloane whispered, causing Harry's lips to twitch) to test on."

Harry knew that Snape would pick him. He could just tell. It was the way the man's eyes lingered on him. Well, Harry thought, he was in for a surprise. The antidote that he had to brew was one that he had been doing since he was nine. He was confident that he had done it right. Let Snape poison him. He was ready!

At that moment, there came a knock on the door and Colin Creevey slowly edged his way in to the room. He beamed at Harry and walked up to Snape.

"Ah, our first volunteer," Sloane whispered and Harry snorted. When Snape's gaze rested back on him, he had to bite his lips to keep from laughing.

"What is it, Mr. Creevey?" Snape said curtly.

"Please sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."

Snape gave Colin a look so dark that the boy started to tremble. "Potter has Potions to finish. He will go upstairs after class."

"Please, sir, Mr. Bagman insisted," Colin quivered. "All of the champions have to go, I think they want to take photographs -"

Harry let out a low moan, heard only by Sloane. The rest of the class was either staring at Harry, or watching at what Snape would do next. It was obvious that Colin thought that the Potions Professor would just swoop down and swallow him whole.

"Fine, Potter, leave your things and go! I will test your antidote later!" Snape snapped.

"Please, sir, he's got to take his things," Colin squeaked. "All of the champions -"

"Very well!" Snape snarled. That vein was ticking in the corner of his mouth again. "Potter! Take your things and get out of my sight!"

Sloane whispered, "Good luck," to Harry as he left. Colin ran so fast out of the room that Sloane believed that he broke the record for the minute mile.

"Mr. Mars, bring your antidote up here," Snape said. Sloane bit back his grin as he got his antidote, ready to prove that a Mars could handle the pressure. Snape was hardly amused when Sloane fairly skipped up, beaming widely.

Harry was led to a small classroom to be a part of the weighing of the wands. Everyone else was there, including a pudgy man with a camera (who was watching Fluer from the corner of his eye in a way that made Harry nervous) and a woman in magenta robes.

The woman in magenta robes was a reporter named Rita Skeeter. Before Harry could protest, Rita had dragged him into an abandoned broom closet for an exclusive interview. Her eyes were fixed hungrily on his scar. Had she been a Muggle, Harry would have sworn that thoughts of a Pulitzer were running around her head.

"You don't mind, Harry, if I use a Quick Notes Quill during our interview?" Rita asked.

"Uh, all right?"

Rita smiled, revealing three gold teeth, as she opened the hideous crocodile skin bag and pulled out a long acid green quill and a roll of parchment.

"Testing . . . my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."

Harry looked down to see the quill scribbling out a sentence. Curious, he peered closer.

Attractive blond Rita Skeeter, whose savage quill has cut short the over-blown egos and inflated reputations -

"Perfect!" Rita exclaimed and ripped that portion off the parchment. Harry resisted the urge to point out that the quill was supposed to write what was said, not create fiction.

"Now, Harry, what made you enter the Triwizard Tournament?" Rita asked.

"I didn't. I don't know how my name got in the Goblet of Fire," Harry said, watching the quill.

An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes -

"Ignore the quill, Harry." Rita said. "Now, you can tell me everything. Don't worry about getting into trouble. Our readers love a rebel."

"But, I didn't enter -"

"How do you feel about the tasks ahead? Nervous? Excited? Scared?"

"I haven't really thought about it. Nervous, definitely."

"Champions have died in the past. Any thoughts on that?"

"Well, it's supposed to be a lot safer this year."

"How do you think your parents would react if they knew that you were in the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry paused. "Probably scared and worried about me. I'm sure the parents of all the Champions are worried about their children."

"What was it like growing up with Tori Mars?"

"Look, Ms. Skeeter, if that quill of yours can't get anything else right, have it quote me directly on this," Harry said, his eyes flashing. "Tori Mars is the best mother a kid could have. I love her and she's made me feel nothing but welcomed in her family."

Before Rita could say anything, the door to the cupboard opened and Dumbledore looked in. The quill darted back into the handbag.

Dumbledore took Harry back to the weighing of the wands. Ollivander was the judge over that, and Harry was perfectly lost. He had no idea what they were looking for, but each wand performed the trick it was required to. Then came the photos, and Harry watched as the fat photographer seemed to be too eager to get a picture of Fluer. Harry had a feeling that it was partially because she was one-fourth veela, but the look in the man's eyes was darker then what Harry would have assumed for one staring at a veela.

"Fluer? May I say something?" Harry asked as they were waiting for the photographer to finish with Krum's individual photos.

"Oui?"

"Be careful when you're around that photographer. Have Madam Maxine go in the room with you. I have a funny feeling about that guy." Harry said.

Fluer looked at him and seemed to be really seeing him for the first time. Then she looked at where the photographer was waving her over. She turned to Madam Maxine and asked her to accompany her. The photographer was disappointed, but Harry could breath easier.

When Harry got back to the Common Room, Ron was waiting for him. Instead of saying 'hi', Ron shoved a letter at Harry.

"You had an owl," Ron said and left.

Harry flinched when the door slammed. "Thanks," he muttered.

Harry quickly scanned the letter. It was from Sirius, stating that he had a way to talk to Harry, if he'd be in the Common room at a certain time on a certain date. Why, certainly! All he had to do was reply that he'd be there.

He quickly wrote out a reply, planning on owling it Sirius before breakfast the next day. He had found a silver lining in his life. Now, if only he could also talk to Lupin.

The next day, Harry sent out the letter. However, his life took a definite dip by the next Potions class. Rita's article had come out. It wasn't about the champions, instead it was a highly colorful fiction on his life. Sloane had been livid, swearing that if Rita ever pulled a stunt like that in America, then the whole Mars family would sue her for libel.

"I did get a letter from Bisnonno Guerra," Sloane said a few days later. "I didn't know they got the Prophet in Italy, but they do and he saw it! He wants to know if he should send us a few of 'the boys' to 'fix the problem'."

As Harry thought back on the article, he nodded. "I'll need someone to bury the body."

What burned Harry the most was what Rita had to say about Tori. No doubt, it was those passages that angered the Don of the Guerra family, and all of the Mars family. The good name of the family had been attacked. This wasn't the first time that Tori Mars had appeared in an article by Rita Skeeter. Last year, several stories by Rita about the "affair" between Tori and Lucius Malfoy had shown up in a few tabloid rags.

Poor Harry Potter, who has survived so many tragic events in life, attends Hogwarts with Sloane Mars. Mars, as his name suggests, is the son of Tori Mars, whom I am sure our readers will remember was accused of being the secret lover and Dark Lady of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The fear in Harry's green eyes when he talks about his home life is evident of the dark upbringing he must have endured.

"Tori was a great mother," Harry said, his voice quivering. It sounded more like a mantra then a declaration of a son for his loving mother.

It is this reporter's opinion that the Dark Lady has poor Harry so terrified that he'd say anything to keep her happy.

The article had gone on to proclaim that Harry was a top student, practically dating Hermione, and it didn't even mention a word of Cedric. When he saw the article, he had thought that Sloane was going to strangle him, but thankfully Sloane knew that Harry would never say those things in a million years. Especially not the part about crying himself to sleep at night, wishing for his real parents.

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!