A/N: Hi! I've been going back and forth with what to do with the story over the past four years and finally found the right headspace to continue it. It's been interesting trying to stick to my plans and approach from back then while still incorporating some of the ways I've changed as a writer.

Harry didn't know what felt more peculiar: apologising to someone or being apologised to.

He'd had to say sorry to the Dursleys many times, but he couldn't recall ever meaning it. When he was a child, perhaps he had, but as he'd grown, it had just become something that he had to say. It had been difficult to muster genuine regret when he knew that his actions would have been dismissed as childish folly if Dudley had been the one to do them.

And none of the Dursleys had ever once apologised to him, even for something as simple as walking into his path. If the idea had ever occurred to them, they would have found it laughable. After all, they'd taken him in after his parents died; to them, he was nothing more than a hassle and a source of shame.

With that in mind, making up with Ron felt… strange. When Ron stuck his hands in his pockets, shuffled his feet, and mumbled that he was sorry for being a pillock, Harry hadn't known what to say. And when it came time for him to admit that he could have handled it better as well, the words had jumbled up in his mouth.

But somehow, they managed to get through it, then suddenly, they were friends again. Awkwardness still hung over the hallway outside Gryffindor Tower, but in a few minutes, months of tension and distance had disappeared like smoke in the wind.

They were just about to return to the common room for a game of chess when a first year rushed up and handed Harry a note from the Headmaster, summoning him to his office to discuss a few important matters at his earliest convenience.

'Probably about the last task,' Harry said before glancing up at Ron, worried. They might have put the past behind them, but it didn't make the tournament a safe topic.

Ron winced, but all he said was, 'We can play when you get back.'

Harry nodded. 'I haven't had a chance to practice, so I might be rusty.'

Ron smiled wryly. 'I've had nothing but time to practice, so I've learnt some new moves.'

Laughing, Harry left, feeling lighter than he had since his name first came out of the goblet. He still had another task to get through, but he'd managed to survive the first two, and there was no reason to think he couldn't manage the third, especially now that he had Ron by his side again.

Fortunately, he didn't pass many people on his way over to the Headmaster's Tower, and before long, he was saying the words that had been in the postscript — this time, jelly babies — and entering his office.

'Mr Potter, you arrived sooner than I expected,' the Headmaster said, sounding pleasantly surprised as he peered over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

'You said it was important.'

'Yes. At least, to me, it is vitally so. You might not agree with my assessment.' Dumbledore held out a bowl of jelly babies. 'Would you care for one?'

'No, thank you.'

'Nobody but me ever does.' He sighed and put the bowl down again, and his expression turned serious. 'Onto our first order of business, then. Miss Parkinson was hexed by a group of Gryffindors on her way back to her common room last night. Would you happen to know anything about it?'

'No,' Harry said, startled. He couldn't recall seeing her at breakfast that morning, but then he'd been avoiding looking at the Slytherins as much as possible since they'd come out with those stupid badges. 'Is she alright?'

'She will be. Unfortunately, the students who attacked her claimed that it was a direct response to the statement she gave Rita Skeeter about you. Given the circumstances, I am sure you will appreciate that I must ask you once again whether you had anything to do with the horrible incident.'

'I didn't. I've never liked Parkinson, but I wouldn't hex her — and I certainly wouldn't ask someone else to do it for me.'

Dumbledore continued to watch him carefully. 'Professor Snape has strongly informed me that he believes otherwise.'

Of course he had. 'That's far from the worst thing anyone's ever said about me, sir. I didn't hex anyone when they were calling me the heir of Slytherin in second year or when they started wearing badges saying I stink this year; why would I do so now?'

The Headmaster relaxed. 'You don't know how relieved I am to hear that. The group that attacked her claimed that you had nothing to do with it, but I had to do my due diligence in making certain they were not simply covering for you.'

Harry hesitated. 'Who did it?'

'That is between Miss Parkinson, the group, and myself.'

'I understand.' Harry supposed he wouldn't have wanted Dumbledore to tell a Slytherin the details if he were the victim. In Parkinson's shoes, the less others knew about it, the happier he would be.

'Of course, that brings me to the next point of discussion: the article itself.'

'How does Skeeter keep getting interviews from students?' Harry blurted out. The question had been bothering both him and Hermione for quite some time. 'She was here for the task this time, so she could have spoken to Parkinson afterwards, but most of the quotes she's gotten don't match up with Hogsmeade weekends.'

'I have noticed that as well,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'I considered that she might be corresponding with them by letter, but Ms Skeeter prefers to conduct all her interviews in person.'

Harry hadn't even thought of that as an option. 'Could she have made an exception?'

'She could have, but I doubt it. She claims that it is because she is in a better position to tell when someone is lying to her that way, but I rather suspect she finds it easier to twist and sensationalise someone's words when the only written record is hers.'

'I don't think she would have to twist Parkinson's words much, sir.'

'Perhaps not,' Dumbledore said. 'It is possible that if she knows that her interviewee's words will be controversial enough without tweaking, she would accept a written correspondence.

'However, if that is the case, there is little I can do about it. Since Miss Parkinson's parents have given Ms Skeeter permission to talk to her, I cannot take action unless Ms Skeeter is entering the premises without approval or encouraging Miss Parkinson to sneak out.'

'How would she get in?' Harry asked. He'd seen Skeeter's name on the Marauder's Map a few times when she wasn't supposed to be there, but he couldn't tell Dumbledore that without risking having him take it off him.

Besides, it didn't make sense; she seemed to be going in and out through the front gates, and he'd thought they were charmed so nobody could pass through without permission.

'That is a question with which the other professors and I have been grappling for a while now.'

'That wasn't your second question, though, was it?' Harry asked sheepishly, realising he had derailed the conversation.

'Not precisely. How are you faring in the wake of the article?'

'Alright,' Harry said. 'It's been affecting Hermione more than me, really. I'm used to negative attention, but she's not.'

'I cannot ask Ms Skeeter not to report on your involvement in the tournament — or on Miss Granger's. However, since you're both underage, we can consult a lawyer about asking her to restrict her coverage to facts about the tournament itself.'

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had always been suspicious of lawyers, saying they did more harm than good, and Harry had learnt to be dismissive of them from a young age. His first reaction was to decline and continue putting up with Skeeter's articles. After all, all she had was words.

But while he could ignore the articles and the badges, the hate mail people had been sending Hermione was taking it too far. His friends already put up with enough for him; if he could stop this one thing, he should.

'I'm not sure about Hermione,' he said, 'but I think that's a good idea.'

'Very well. I will reach out to a lawyer I know to see if she thinks we would have a chance, and you check whether Miss Granger would like to be included.'

Dumbledore threaded his fingers together. 'Of course, this conversation must be treated with the utmost discretion. If word were to spread early, it would give Ms Skeeter the opportunity to take precautionary measures of her own. Anyone you choose to tell should be sworn to secrecy.'

'Yes, sir.' Harry frowned. 'What should I tell people if they ask why you talked to me?'

Dumbledore appeared to consider that for a few seconds. 'You may tell them I asked you about the incident with Miss Parkinson.'

Sensing that the conversation was over, Harry stood to leave. Before he reached the door, however, he stopped and turned back to face Dumbledore. 'Did you really think I was involved in hexing Parkinson, sir?'

'Of course not, Harry. You are your mother's son through and through. I did, however, have to ask.'

Relieved, Harry nodded. He knew he'd crossed quite a few lines over the past few years, but apart from self-defence, he'd never knowingly hurt someone.

'One last thing,' Dumbledore said. 'Typically, the final task in the Triwizard Tournament is the most difficult. You should consider starting your preparations earlier than you did for the last one.'

'Sir, how…'

'I might not be allowed to discuss it with you and Mr Diggory, but you are this school's champions. A number of professors have taken an interest in your progress.'