Chapter 9: January
Severus went to the infirmary to see Harry first thing Sunday morning. He'd talked to Albus yesterday afternoon about giving Potter a pain reliever or a healing potion. Neither of them wanted to risk the curse being spiteful. Unfortunately Potter was stuck with it.
"How do you feel, Mr Potter?" asked Snape.
"Like someone took a ruler to my backside, how do you think?" asked Harry viciously. He was lying face down on his bed propped up on his elbows reading a comic. He made no effort to look at Snape.
"We are all sorry, Mr Potter," said Snape quietly. He knew Potter was pissed with him. Yesterday he'd been upset. Today he was angry. The boy had every right to rage. Snape was quite glad Potter didn't seem like a thrower.
"Whatever."
Severus took the hint and left. There was no point in trying to reason with an angry teenager.
Poppy came in to see Harry. She couldn't give him anything but kind words, and that annoyed her no end.
"Hermione came looking for you late yesterday evening. She was worried. We should have remembered to tell her something. I told her you'd gone out on your broom for some fresh air after dinner and fallen. I said you'd fractured your hip. I told her you were sleeping and would be asleep for most of today, but that you'd be fine. I can make up something if you want to remain here all day and stay another night."
"Thanks, I don't want to see anyone ."
"I didn't think so. I'll tell her the Skele-gro is taking a bit longer than usual. You had a whole arm replaced a few years ago. I'll tell her that because of that, Skele-gro is only working slowly on you this time."
"Mmmmmm," said Harry, going back to lethargic. His backside didn't hurt too badly, he just wanted the world to go away.
"Call me if you need anything," said Poppy, leaving him to his own head space.
By Monday morning Harry felt fine, but wasn't ready to deal with people. He knew what they'd be like. He picked at his food then left the infirmary. Everyone else was in class. He went up to the Gryffindor common room. He'd moved onto the proper angry phase. He threw some cushions around. It wasn't enough.
He stomped up to his dorm, angered further by the fact that his egg had been returned. White hot rage flashed through him. Just before the holidays Moody had done the reductor curse with them in class. Harry hadn't done well. Instead of disintegrating objects Harry had managed to chip a few flakes off the rubber balls they'd been practising on.
That didn't happen today. Harry's egg exploded. His quidditch reactions enabled him to duck as two shards flew at his head. That wasn't enough. Harry looked around the room. The window. That would be satisfying. Harry cast in anger. The glass bent out when the spell hit as if it were made of rubber. It didn't break. Harry didn't care. He moved onto a bed. Then his own trunk. Then Ron's trunk. It felt good but nothing was breaking.
"Mister Harry Potter, sir," said a quiet voice, "I have protected this room and soundproofed it. You can be as destructive as you like."
Dobby magicked into his hand a rubber ball exactly like the ones from class. Dobby threw it at Harry's head.
"Duck, Mister Harry Potter, sir!"
Harry lay on his bed panting. The room was coated in pieces of rubber ball.
"Don't worry sir, Dobby will deal with the mess. Go to sleep. No-one will disturb you."
Harry passed out, physically and mentally exhausted.
"Harry?" said Neville in surprise.
Harry awoke with a start. He rolled over and straightened his glasses.
"Oh, hi, Neville," said Harry. He was tired, and not really feeling up to people but Neville was different. You couldn't snap at Neville.
"We thought you were still in the infirmary, Hermione said you'd come off your broom."
"Madam Pomfrey let me out but I'm excused from class today. Dodgy hip. Sitting is still a bit awkward."
"Classes have just ended. People will be around soon. Do you want to avoid them? We could go to the library before dinner. That's probably where Hermione is. She's got a bee in her bonnet about something. She's investigating water."
"Yeah, not being around that lot would be good. How is it?"
Neville knew what Harry was asking.
"There were the usual people making comments at lunch. Today you're too special to join in with normal lessons."
"Good to know," said Harry. "Hey, Neville?"
"Mmm?"
"Thanks. It means a lot."
"Nothing to thank me for Harry."
"How the hell did you come off your broom?!" asked Hermione primly, "Pomfrey wouldn't let me in, she said you were sleeping. And you've missed a whole day of class. And you might be allergic to Skele-gro. And I've had to make notes for you."
"I've missed you too, Hermione. I'm fine, honest. I've just got a bit of a dodgy hip. I've just got to stand up and move about more. It'll be fine."
The twins came into the library and looked around as if they'd never been in before. "Oh so this is a library," remarked Fred curiously.
"What's one of these?" asked George, picking up a book with distaste. "Do you eat it?"
"Grow up!" said Hermione.
"You OK, Harry?" asked Fred casually, knowing Harry didn't want the hassle.
"Yes, thanks, really, I'm fine."
"Good, don't fall off again."
"What's the research, Hermione?" asked George looking at the title of the book, "I don't remember doing this topic."
"It's not work, it's to help Harry with the next task."
"We can help?" asked Fred.
"Well we're not professors and that's the only rule, so sure," said Hermione.
"What can we do?" asked George.
"Sit down, everyone, I'll tell you what I know," said Hermione.
They all sat. Harry disguised a slight wince, yeah, sitting wasn't exactly perfect yet.
"Bruised?" asked Fred, casually, "Get some more balm from Pomfrey, you'll be fine."
George laughed, "Get a whole tub, I'll send the spare home to Bill."
Fred laughed, "Not sure he'd appreciate the humour."
"Has Bill hurt himself?" asked Hermione, concerned.
"You could say that," said Fred, "He came home from work on Saturday in a mood after having had a bad day. Dad asked him how his day went and Bill told him to fuck off. We discovered 24 is not too old to get your arse tanned. Dad's mostly upset because Bill still hasn't told him why his day was so bad. How bad is curse-breaking?"
Harry winced for a different reason than the others.
Harry didn't go to his mentor session that evening. He wasn't in the mood for Snape. That was unfair, he realised that. Snape had drawn the short straw. Better him than Dumbledore. Harry was both grateful and embarrassed that he'd cried on the man's shoulder as he had. It'd been nice to be held.
Potions the next day Snape ignored Harry as usual, but Harry could tell he was looking over at him a lot more, checking on him. That was Snape's way of caring. The man also had them all standing up for the whole lesson brewing. Harry appreciated the gesture, although sitting was fine now.
On Wednesday Harry dragged himself to his mentor session. He got the feeling if he didn't, Snape would come and find him. There was a limit to the amount of sulking Snape would put up with.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nope."
"I didn't think you'd come on Monday. I assumed you'd be having a well deserved fit of teenage righteous indignation."
"I did that on Monday afternoon."
"Yes, Dobby reported as much."
"Destroying that egg felt really good," said Harry, remembering the satisfaction he'd felt.
"I'm glad it was an inanimate object."
"Was the curse breaker Dumbledore got in Bill Weasley?"
"Professor Dumbledore. Why do you ask?" asked Snape, surprised by the question.
"Was he?" asked Harry again.
"Yes, why?"
"He didn't take being unsuccessful well."
"Neither did any of us."
"He said the same thing to Mr Weasley as I said to you when this all started."
"Bet that smarted."
"The twins said it did, yes. Does the person who cast the curse know I solved the egg?" asked Harry, changing the subject.
"Highly probable, because let's be blunt about this, no-one has died." Harry gasped. "Perspective, Mr Potter. If it makes it any better, your backside smarting saved a life. Remember that, it wasn't a pointless act. I spoke to the Headmaster yesterday. He thinks you should make it look like you're being obedient and that you're studying for the task. He's going to drop a hint or two around the staffroom that he's pleased both Hogwarts competitors have solved their eggs. That sort of rumour will get to Durmstrang and Beaxbattons quite quickly, and hopefully to whoever the curse creator is."
"Can I actually be studying?" asked Harry curiously.
"The chances of a fourth year, even with the help of Miss Granger, finding suitable solutions is quite slim, and even if you do, the task itself will be difficult, but study may help keep you alive on the day."
Harry's expression darkened.
"That wasn't an insult, Potter, it was fact. I told you before, even with help, you stand very little chance of success. By all means study, but you will not be able to compete to the same level as the other competitors in this next task. You don't have the same magical knowledge or ability."
"But study will help me stay safe," argued Harry.
"Study may also lull you into a false sense of security enough that you do something stupid. Something a Death Eater will kill you for. Perspective, Potter."
"What's in Black Lake?"
"Go find out yourself,"
"Can I breathe underwater?"
"You're the one who wants to study."
"What does the rhyme really mean?"
"Did you write it down, Potter? Because it's not like you can access it again is it, your teenage hormones dealt with that."
Harry huffed.
"How are you going to mentor me for this task exactly?
"How's your Astronomy work coming along?"
"Oh for fuck's sake!"
"Language, Mr Potter! There's a time and a place, unless you want to spend the next hour writing lines for me."
"Sorry," said Harry shortly. "Do you know how frustrating this is?! Fine, Astronomy." Harry took a breath, "I'm having trouble with my star chart."
"So, Mr Potter," said Moody at the end of a lesson the next week, "You seem to have abandoned your egg again. You had a brief flurry of being its best friend before Christmas. The Headmaster seems pleased with your progress."
"I don't need the egg, I solved it and memorised it," replied Harry politely, hoping Moody would just let him go. It was the eye. It was unnerving.
"Good, good," he said. "And you've had no more broom accidents? Can't have you injured before the next task."
"No, sir," said Harry, unable to quite stop his face from changing colour. He escaped as quickly as he could.
Crouch watched him go. The brat deserved a good thrashing, just on principle. Barty was pleased with that addition. If nothing else, it'd made Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape unhappy. He'd debated simply having Potter Crucio'd, but that would have made the Ministry look very carefully at what was going on. And there was something to be said for physical pain. Crouch was beginning to be very suspicious of Severus, he should have enjoyed punishing the boy. Unless he did and it was all an act for Dumbledore of course.
He was glad to see his plan was working. The boy was back on course. Now to make sure he got a few more points this time.
Harry,
It's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. I overheard some people in the village talking about it. Thank you for sending your last letter. It put my mind at ease. I was really getting worried there. Snape is not to be trusted. Can you get to the Shrieking Shack? We can meet in the tunnel under it. That way no-one will find us even if they come into the shack.
I can tell you what I suspect about Skeeter. It's easier in person - there's a lot to say.
Love Sirius.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Sirius wasn't going to do anything dumb. Even the tunnel under the shack was a clear-headed idea.
It was cold when they set out for Hogsmeade. There were a few light flakes of snow in the air. It'd been frosty the night before.
"Quick question," said Harry as he deliberately jumped on the ice on top of a shallow puddle, "How cold is Black Lake in a month's time?"
"I think we can agree that you'll need a heating charm," replied Hermione.
"Lovely."
Neville was with them for the walk to the village. Harry couldn't say No when Neville had asked to walk with them. Neville was finding it hard with Harry and Ron not on speaking terms. It wasn't that Ron was trying to steal Harry's friends or anything, it was just that they weren't able to all do things together. Ron was keeping company with Seamus and Dean.
"Hey," said Neville, "I know Herbology isn't everyone's thing, but I want to visit Dogweed and Deathcap for some supplies. Do you two want to do your own thing and we can meet up somewhere? I might be some time, I want to talk to the owner about specific cacti."
"Of course, Neville," said Harry trying not to sound too relieved, "That'd be great. Maybe an hour?"
"Great," said Neville, "Meet you back here in the square."
Harry and Hermione slipped away to the Shrieking Shack.
They stood in the doorway, adjusting their eyes to the darkness. There was no sign of movement from within.
"Come on, the entrance is over here," said Harry.
They closed the door to the shack so that no-one would see they were inside and then quietly opened the door to the passageway.
"Lumos," said Hermione.
"Hello?" whispered Harry softly.
They heard a whine from in the darkness. Harry closed the door. They were alone.
There was a noise in the dark.
"Lumos." There was light ahead. Harry and Hermione moved towards it.
"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius. He extended his arms for a hug. Harry reciprocated. Sirius' hug was tight. Sirius needed the hug. Harry felt the man relax.
"Thank you for coming, Harry," said Sirius, releasing him. "Hermione, just you? No Ron."
"He's running interference," lied Hermione quickly.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Him and Hermione were on the same wavelength.
"Accio!" said Sirius. A miniature couch flew towards Sirius' hand. He placed it on the floor and enlarged it. He did the same with a chair for himself. They sat down. Sirius' wand was bright. It lit the passageway. A quick heating charm and Sirius had made the place quite cosy.
"Please tell me everything, Harry, properly," said Sirius.
"Only if you explain how you're staying safe," replied Harry.
"Deal," laughed Sirius.
"How are you back in Hogsmeade and there's no hue and cry?" asked Hermione.
"I am a fugitive. They presume I have fled. People are quite interesting. They don't want a mass murderer hiding in their village. No-one has been terrorised since June, therefore I must have fled. Especially with reports of me having fled to a tropical island. Dumbledore was very good about that. I use Polyjuice a lot to go shopping. Dumbledore sends me a supply regularly. He thinks I'm in London though. I have it forwarded to the post office in the muggle village ten miles away. I use a muggle's face. The fact that I use the face of an old man, no-one looks twice. I'm a wizarding stranger here. I can buy food and anything else I need. I mostly sleep as Padfoot, you know, my dog form, but I can hide in here as a human so long as I'm careful. I keep a polyjuice vial on me at all times."
"You stay here in the shack?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, and in this passageway. I don't use lights. Merlin, Scotland is miserable in winter!"
"You're warm enough?"
"Wizard, Harry, warming charms!"
"Sorry!" he said, abashed, "But you're safe?"
"More than that. I'm warm, well fed, and in a village where there are people to talk to. Tell me about your year and then I'll tell you about Skeeter. Because I think I'm on to something there."
So Harry told him about summer, the world cup, staying at the Weasleys, the disappointment of no quidditch, discovering about the Triwizard Tournament and then the utter horror of having his name picked. Sirius knew the facts. Harry had sent a couple of short letters, but it was easier face to face just to repeat it all. Now for the awkward part, thought Harry. Lying.
"I know you disagree with this bit, but please just listen, OK?" asked Harry.
"You're going to bring up Snivellus, aren't you?"
Harry didn't correct him. He got a bit creative with the truth instead. Hermione knew to go with whatever Harry said.
"I lost my temper in the great hall one morning. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed. Dumbledore summoned me to his office. I thought I was toast. But instead, he said he'd arranged for the staff to support me. He knows I'm only a fourth year. He knows I know very little, relatively speaking, to the other champions. He knows it's Voldemort's followers trying to get to me. He set McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape to help me. I know you don't like Snape, but he knows his spells. Flitwick used to be a professional dweller, did you know that?"
Sirius nodded, "Yes, a good one."
"So they can't teach me new stuff, but they can 'remind me' about stuff I do know. All three of them have been good."
"I still wish one of them wasn't Snape. I still believe he was a Death Eater."
There was silence.
"What?" asked Hermione.
"You know Death Eaters are the followers of Voldemort?"
"Yes, but why do you think he was one?" asked Hermione.
"He was properly into Dark stuff at school. Slytherin. It's what they did," replied Sirius.
"He teaches at Hogwarts," countered Harry. "Dumbledore hired him."
"Yes, he did. Look, his job during the war was to spy on them for us, while pretending to them he was spying on us for them. I just think he wasn't properly on our side."
"You said that about Professor Lupin," said Hermione. "You were wrong about that."
"We were all wrong about the rat," agreed Sirius, "But there's something about Snivellus. His attitude. How he was, he came across as arrogant and entitled."
Harry wanted to get off this topic. He wanted to know more, but didn't. Sort of. He continued with the tale.
"He helped me revise for the first task. Dumbledore then got me onto investigating the egg. He thought it's too obvious if I don't make an effort, and that the Goblet of Fire might not like it. But mostly he thinks the people who entered me would do something. So now I'm working on what to do for the task."
"You said Black Lake in your letter?" asked Sirius, easily distracted onto a new topic. "It probably is named after some batty relative centuries ago. I never checked."
"What's in the lake?" asked Hermione.
"The giant squid, obviously. The merpeople and grindylows. It's bloody cold in the lake. And dark. It's deep. Do you know anything about the task?"
"Not really, just that it's in the lake and involves the merpeople."
"The merpeople aren't always friendly, Harry. Be careful," said Sirius.
Sirius accio'd a bag of apples. They all munched thoughtfully for a minute.
"So about Skeeter," said Hermione.
"Interesting when you ask around. She's about ten years older than me. Her articles were the talk of the breakfast table some mornings back at school. Totally nasty, mostly made up. But people knew the bits that were made up, they were an entertainment. She wasn't a thorough reporter, she didn't check her facts. She just made it up. Think Trelawney but for journalists."
Both Harry and Hermione laughed.
"But here's the interesting part. She turned court reporter at the trials. Karkaroff was livid. When he was put in Azkaban she was the main reason for public hatred of him. It was accurate reporting for once. She was right there in court. But her sentence structure and twist… we didn't exactly get a daily newspaper in there, but the human guards deliberately left those copies lying around."
"So her reporting became accurate? So what?" asked Hermione.
"Well, talk to anyone now, especially those who have had secrets published, and here's the interesting part. She didn't go back to making it up. She didn't get a name for speaking the truth and then go back to total fiction. There's hyperbole, for sure, but her articles contain truth. That's why she still has a job."
"There's a waiter in the pub," continued Sirius, "Merlin, he hates her. She outed his affair."
"Was he having one?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, but he swears the details she got could have only come from him or his lover."
"So his girlfriend spilled to a reporter," said Hermione.
"The girlfriend and him made an unbreakable vow beforehand not to spill the beans."
"What's one of those?" asked Hermione. Sirius briefly explained.
"So how did Skeeter find out?"
"Must have been in the bedroom," said Sirius.
"Er, what sort of detail are we talking here?" asked Hermione, blushing.
"Not that sort. What they were talking about," said Sirius with a cheeky grin.
"In the actual room?"
"Yep, so how do you do that?" asked Sirius. "Invisibility cloaks aren't that good."
"She listened to our conversation in the tower," said Hermione. "How about eavesdropping on the floo?"
"I don't know," admitted Sirius, "But be on the look out when you have conversations in places you think are private."
Hermione nodded. "We'll be careful."
Hermione thought a bit longer. "Can we beat her at her own game?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Sirius.
"You said she reported when people didn't realise she was listening. She's after gossip. With the tournament on, she's likely to be in Hogsmeade this weekend. I even glimpsed Bagman on the way here. They're all here being seen. She'll be after a story. What if we gave her one?"
"Hermione, what are you doing?" asked Harry.
"Sirius, can you polyjuice as whoever you are today?"
"Oh, yes! Oh, yes! This will be fun! I've missed fun. You'd have fitted right in," said Sirius, brightly.
"We'll meet up with Neville, then we'll go to Puddifoot's. In an hour, you come in and sit where you can watch. We sit down and talk about something totally made up, but very print worthy. You look out for her. We'll know if she's there, because it'll be printed."
"That's nasty, but awesome, Hermione!" said Harry.
Harry, Hermione and Neville were sitting in Puddifoot's at a corner table. The place was busy. They sat in such a way that they could watch most of the room. A man came in and sat quietly on his own in a different corner. He winked.
"Did you hear about Trelawney at the New Year's Eve drinks the staff had?" asked Hermione of Neville. Neville had no idea what was going on.
"No, what?"
"Totally wasted," sniffed Hermione. She'd thought about her subject matter. Hermione thought Trelawney a fake anyway, so had no compunction insulting her, falsely or not.
"Not exactly surprising," encouraged Harry, "You should hear her in class. Predicts the death of students regularly. I'm surprised no-one has had accidents while avoiding the things she's told them to avoid. She told Lavender that danger lurks in cocoa. To avoid cocoa Lavender took up coffee. On the caffeine high, Lavender believed she could fly a broomstick well. Faceplanted really badly. Two days in the infirmary while her teeth were fixed."
"But to be publicly wasted, it's such a bad influence!" said Hermione in scandalised tones.
Their voices didn't carry but neither were they whispering. Their detraction continued.
After spending half an hour gossiping in the cafe, they paid their bill and left. They sat outside. Ten minutes after that the man from the corner did the same thing. The man briefly passed them in the street, smiled politely and the three students returned to the school.
"But who's saying these things?!" wailed Sybil, hysterically at Albus. Albus passed her a tissue.
"There, there, Sybil," he said. "I will speak to the Prophet and find out their source. Rita does enjoy a bit of salacious gossip, true or untrue."
"The bit about predicting student deaths is true, though, Albus," said Minerva, "But the drinking is just made up."
"I presume Skeeter has been listening to the student gossip and publishing it without verifying its accuracy. Student gossip eventually produces a source. That person will explain themselves to me."