Chapter 78: Lovely Rita
Before Harry knew what was happening October was nearly half over. The student body still seemed split on his entry into the tournament into three factions. Half of the Slytherins, a portion of the Hufflepuffs- led by Ernie MacMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley- and Ron's group of miscreants appeared convinced that he had cheated his way in; a group consisting mostly of Ravenclaws, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, merely was curious to see if he was up to the competing in the tasks while Harry's group, the smallest but easily the most vocal, stood with him in support.
"Stuff those badges down your throat, Nott," Vinny said to the lanky boy he towered over when Nott broke out a box of badges which rotated between gold with black lettering declaring Cedric the "Real Hogwarts Champion" and lime green with orange font proclaiming 'Potter Stinks'. "I am not a little girl who you can threaten. Wands or no wands, I'll beat you senseless."
Nott, ever the wise person, elected not to heed the warning and the people wearing the badges found out that every time the bad flashed to Potter Stinks, it would emit a foul odor and, because of the sticking charm that came with it, they could not remove it.
"The Marauders strike again," Fred and George high-fived while Nott and his less-than-merry band of misfits found themselves alone at the end of the table with nobody wanting to be in the same airspace. The same situation played over at Hufflepuff where Megan Jones ruefully regretted her decision to let Ernie talk her into wearing one. She subsequently cut the pin off, broke up with Ernie, and apologized to Harry.
"And that's why I didn't want to wear one," Malfoy shouted across the hall. "My father told me about the Marauders. I know well enough not to cross them."
"You've just lost your pride, Draco," Nott said. "You allowed Potter and his mudblood to neuter you."
"Say what you want," Draco nonchalantly said without making eye contact. "I'm not the one who smells like a sewer."
Apart from the smelly badge-wearers, Hermione had gained a shadow in the shape of Nancy Mulligan who took to asking for guidance on everything from theory to spellcasting to history to future electives. Hermione relished in the relationship, showing the first year how to navigate the library and the proper way to research, corrected her on how she held her wand while coming up with different factoids about the history of the world.
It brought a smile to Harry's face whenever he saw Hermione mentoring the girl. His girlfriend appeared to be in her element with Nancy, relishing the constant exchange of information.
"Someone amusing Apprentice Potter?" Flitwick called Harry's attention back to the task at hand.
"Just appreciating seeing my girlfriend become a mentor," Harry smiled at Hermione in the corner. Her hair was clipped behind her and books were stacked around her desk as she researched for her first spell.
"It is wonderful to see Miss Granger with Miss Mulligan," Flitwick said. "However, your focus is needed here."
"Sorry, Master," Harry turned back to look at Flitwick.
"Accepted," Flitwick then drew his wand and Harry's right arm went limp.
"What I want to work on today is offhand casting," Flitwick said. "Sometimes in a duel, you will lose the use of your dominant hand, and other times, you will win a wand from your opponent and have to dual-wield the wand. What I want you to do for the rest of the hour is to work through the first-year repertoire of spells with your off-hand. Focus on your motions and work on improving your speed and dexterity."
For the next hour, Harry worked slowly. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled with the task. At the end of the hour, he could light the wand, do the color-changing charm and wingardium leviosa, though the knockback jinx still gave him trouble. At the end of the hour, Flitwick lifted the charm on Harry's right arm.
"Excellent progress," Flitwick said. "I want you to practice an hour each day on off-hand casting. Remember that for charms, especially nonverbally, you don't have to be as precise. Now, for the rest of the night, you are free to work on whichever spells you want to."
At Flitwick's words, Harry pulled out his Grimoire and took to working on the spells within, to minimal results. For years, Harry had been trying to get them to work and thus far the only spell that worked was an updated bludgeoning attack that specifically attacked joints and ligaments, to incapacitate an opponent. The one that he really wanted to learn but continued to flummox him was the lightning whip. He could get the metallic cords to spring from his wand but the electricity was little more than a spark. The book said the key was to get the electricity to run down the length of the cords and back, to complete the circuit. Once you did that, the whip would never extinguish and the lightning could shoot off from the whip when it struck an object. However, the spark never traveled from the wand.
"You look frustrated," Flitwick looked up from his desk. He had retreated to grade essays while the duo worked.
"I can't get this spell to work," Harry said. "I know the theory, I have the wand movements down and I'm thinking the incantation but the sparks don't go anywhere. It feels like I'm… blocked."
"Consider the possibility the spell is too advanced for you," Flitwick said. "Your magic might not yet have the power to sustain the electrical current."
"But I can feel the electricity in my fingers but it doesn't push outward like there's a force resisting it."
"Keep trying," Flitwick placated. "It will come in time. Did you have a breakthrough, Apprentice Granger?"
"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed from the desk. "I've got it!"
"Show me," Flitwick advanced on her with a smile. Hermione stood, pulled her wand and cast.
"Biblitheca Ordino," Hermione tapped from one book to the other as she cast, ending with a flourish. The books picked themselves up and organized themselves on the shelves in alphabetical order. "It works!"
Hermione was over the moon, jumping up and down in glee.
"So you found a way to organize the books?" Flitwick asked.
"I created a spell to put books back on the shelves where you got them," Hermione said. "I've seen Madam Pince moving from shelf to shelf putting back the books one at a time. I combined the wand movements for depulso with wingardium leviosa and added a cushioning charm to ensure the books go where you intend them and they won't be harmed when put back on the shelves."
"Figures," Harry smirked. "Your first spell is about putting books back."
"Someone has to think of the librarians," Hermione retorted, a little heat in her voice. "This will cut down on the time returning books and won't harm them."
"I love it," Harry spoke softly, trying to defuse any anger Hermione might still have.
"Excellent work," Flitwick said. "Can you work with intent to make the book organize themselves a different way?"
"I can try," Hermione cast again, the books pulled off the bookshelf and, instead of re-ordering themselves, they all collided in mid-air and fell in a pile at the center of the bookshelf.
"Now you know the next hurdle for designing spells," Flitwick said. "Making it work is great; making it work in all scenarios is the final hurdle. What else are you working on?"
"The next two are my most ambitious," Hermione pulled out her journal, flipping to the middle. "The first I thought of modifying my incarcerous charm. Since making the one with razor wire, I thought of making a true offensive spell that can cut down trees- or something else, if needed."
"You mean like a chainsaw?" Harry asked from the corner.
"More like a buzzsaw," Hermione said. "I want to be safe in an outdoor location before I test this."
"Terrifying and yet intriguing uses," Flitwick examined her notes. "What is your third one."
"It's hard to explain," Hermione pointed toward a section of her journal.
"Fascinating," Flitwick smoothed his goatee as he pondered. "If you can pull this off, this could change a lot of things. My word, we're out of time."
"Oh dear!" Hermione's eyes bulged as she looked at her watch. "Harry we've got to go, you've got the weighing of the wands in two hours."
"It won't take me two hours to get to the meeting room," Harry said.
"You agreed to meet Parvati and Lavender in the Room," Hermione said. "And you need to have a last talk with Daphne to make sure you're prepared. Time is ticking, let's move."
"Easy," Harry objected to her pulling him bodily toward the door.
"I know you don't like this, Harry," Hermione scolded. "But you agreed to this. You heard what Daphne said about the proper way to present yourself. Come on!"
Hermione bade Flitwick a quick wave goodbye and pulled Harry behind her. When they arrived on the seventh floor, Harry was surprised his trainers had any tread left the way he dragged his feet.
"Sorry we're late," Hermione wheezed out as she pushed Harry into the Room. "We got held up with Professor Flitwick."
"That's okay," Parvati said from the sofa where she and Lavender were chatting with Daphne. "We were just catching up. Nott is trying to figure out a way to get Astoria alone but every time he sneaks up on her, his shoes squeak and tell Astoria to move away."
"Is Astoria okay?" Harry asked.
"Oh she's fine," Daphne said. "She actually loves the attention, I think. Makes her feel like she's in a novel. She loves the mirror, by the way. She got Sirius to give one to our parents so she gets to talk with them. And if they get too close, she'll cut them with her dagger. Sounds like she's looking forward to that, actually."
"As fun as this is," Lavender stood and guided Harry toward a doorway. "The Room gave us a bathroom. Go and shower, use the products as normal and then come back out. You've got a robe on the door."
"Just a robe?" Harry paled.
"Easy loverboy," Parvati said. "It'll cover you. That is unless Hermione's been hiding something from us but I highly doubt that."
Harry resisted her pushes, looking around pleadingly for anyone to give him an escape.
"Harry James," Hermione glared at him, pointing toward the bathroom. "Go."
Hunching his shoulders, Harry slouched into the bathroom.
"Boys," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Can you imagine where he'd be without us?"
"Thankfully we don't have to consider that universe," Hermione said, primly. "Though I don't think he knows what's coming for him. And I don't mean the press. I also don't envy the two of you to work with taming his hair."
"Beautiful thing is we don't have to do much," Lavender said. "It's just about making it look untidy in a purposeful way. A little product, some work and he'll sweep everyone off their feet. We just want to pull back his bangs to show off his eyes."
"Are you ready for the amount of attention you're going to receive, Hermione?" Daphne said. "Undoubtedly you'll be just as newsworthy as Harry."
"I've been coached well, thank you," Hermione inclined her head toward Daphne. "That book you gave me helped a lot too, especially the bit where the lady is supposed to take care of the house. I'm not thrilled but I love Harry too much to do anything different."
"Remember that, always," Daphne said as the water shut off. Harry stepped out in his fluffy robe.
"Okay, what next?" Harry asked.
"Take a seat," Lavender gestured to the plush chair in front of the mirror. Dutifully, Harry walked over and sat down. "Okay, just be as still as possible. This won't take long."
Lavender instructed a straight razor to go to work, clearing any peach fuzz from his face. Once the razor finished its work, Lavender had Harry lean his head back and massaged some styling gel into his hair.
"Oh that feels good," Harry sighed contentedly as Lavender massaged his scalp. As the girl worked, Daphne spoke.
"We've got Luna and Colin in on the Wand Weighing," Daphne said. "In addition, Lavender's mum will be there. You polished the wand like you would your broom so that's good. Remember to keep your tone even and don't rise to any baiting questions. If needed, take a breath and construct your sentences. You're not a 14-year-old cheat, you are Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Heir to House Potter, Slayer of Basilisks, Champion for the Needy."
Harry nodded as Lavender pulled a comb through his hair while using her wand to generate a light breeze. With a few passes, she tilted him back up.
"Alright, you're finished," Lavender said and Harry opened his eyes. He barely recognized himself with his hair organized with a carefree, wind-blown look. With his hair organized, his eyes stood out even more than usual. Parvati applied something to his face to reduce shine and add smoothness.
"Wow," Hermione stopped mid gesture, as she appreciated the handiwork of her friends.
"We've got a dressing room setup," Parvati pointed to a dressing room. "It's got the outfit Hermione picked out for you."
After vanishing through the dressing room, Harry reappeared in his purple dress robes, fitting him more like a tunic than anything with an embroidered design along the lapels. Under the robes, he wore dark slacks and black shoes shined to look like mirrors.
"Very nice," Daphne appraised him. "You look fantastic. Excellent choice on the color, Hermione. You're still Harry but you're also going to make an impact on everyone attending. We've still got about ten minutes. Do you feel good? Anything you want to go over?"
"I'm only worried about the wand weighing," Harry said. "Ollivander is doing it and he knows who my wand's brother is. That's not exactly something I'd like to be public."
"Don't be shy to forestall someone by talking before they can even get to their point," Daphne said. "I doubt Ollivander will say anything but it is good to be prepared. Just remember you're donating to St. Mungo's, mention that Celeste Bulstrode is the one who arranged it and thank Meredith Dotting for setting up the fund. You've already had your release published by the Prophet, Quibbler and Witch Weekly, thanks to Mrs. Brown so everyone knows but it's not a bad idea to remind them."
"It's time," Hermione said after she looked at her watch. She gave him a quick kiss. "You'll be great, I know it."
"Thank you," Harry looked at each witch in turn. "All of you for everything you've done. I'm grateful to have your support and guidance."
"Go introduce the world to the Harry Potter we know and love," Lavender beamed. "And don't be shy at mentioning who is responsible for your look."
Lavender winked, kissed him on the cheek and ushered him out the door. Harry exited the Room, rolled his shoulders back as he walked toward the conference room on the second floor. Descending the staircase, Harry spotted Luna and Colin standing opposite a witch wearing lime green robes tailored low enough to show off her considerable bust.
"Listen here, silly girl," the witch's blonde hair bounced with every movement of her head. "I don't know what delusion you are operating under here. This is an official tournament event, not a place for an amateur girl to play reporter."
"But I am a reporter," Luna stood defiantly in the doorway to the conference room, a quill tucked behind her ear. "Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevey, reporter and photographer for The Quibbler."
"The Quibbler!?" The green-clad witch turned to her photographer and laughed. "Oh my. Thank you, I needed that little laugh today. The Quibbler? Covering the Triwizard tournament? Who would trust a word from that rag?"
"Oh, The Quibbler?" Harry asked as he walked down the stairs toward them. "Isn't that the paper that publishes all those fantastical stories with an open mind and no bias?"
"That is the one," Luna nodded proudly.
"And weren't you the one who did the extraordinary piece on Harry Potter's fundraiser for St. Mungo's?" Lavender's mother chimed in as she walked up the steps.
"Yes," Luna nodded. "Though I greatly appreciated your piece on Harry Potter, as well as the piece you just did on Gwenog Jones, Mrs. Brown."
"Thank you," Samantha beamed, relishing the look of fury on Rita Skeeter's face.
"Well that settles it," Harry smiled at the two teens. "You've earned your place at this event."
"Indeed," Dumbledore approached with the Bagman, Crouch and the other headmasters. "We received and accepted the request from both Witch Weekly and The Quibbler to attend today's event, as well as the Wizarding Wireless. Now if you will move aside, Ms. Skeeter, so we can get this event underway.
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Potter," Samantha extended her hand for Harry to shake. "You look quite dashing. Who is responsible for your look?"
"Tattlefit and Twitlings, er Twilfit and Tattlings rather, did my robes, Gareth's Finest Footwear on my feet but the look is all the brilliance of Lavender Petal," as Harry spoke, he noticed Lavender's mother looked happier than the last he saw her.
"Give them my regards," Samantha said. "Last I heard, they were having trouble keeping up with orders."
"Luckily, they found a couple of house elves who were willing to give a hand," Harry loved how easy it was to talk with her.
"We'll catch up later," Samantha reassured Harry with a hand on his shoulder. "Looks like everything is getting underway."
Inside the room, a long table sat at the end of the room, near the windows. Dumbledore sat in the middle with Cedric on his right in gold robes with black accents. An open chair to his sat to his left. Next to that sat Fleur in a brilliant powder blue silk gown with Madam Maxime and Krum, wearing his military-style red robes, with Karkaroff next to Cedric. Bagman and Crouch capped each end of the table. Chairs were arranged for the media members.
"Good Afternoon," Flashbulbs went off as Dumbledore stood to speak. "Welcome to the Weighing of the Wands and the first press conference for the Triwizard Tournament. Maybe I first introduce Mr. Garrick Ollivander."
Harry never realized Ollivander sitting within the chamber until he rose. At Dumbledore's behest, they all placed their wands on the table in front of them.
"Good afternoon," Ollivander said. "I won't take up too much of your Saturday. This won't take long."
Ollivander started at the right with Fleur.
"First Ms. Delacour," Ollivander smiled grandfatherly as he grabbed her wand. 9 and a half inches, Rosewood with… oh my. Is this…?"
"The 'air of a Veela?" Fleur smiled proudly. "Oui. From my grandmuzzer. Had to get a wandmaker to make it. None of the ones I tried worked for me."
"Excellent craftsmanship, well maintained," Ollivander examined the wand with his bony fingers. "Avis."
A bluebird flew from the end of the wand, sped around the room twice and exited through the open window.
"Next we have Mr. Potter," Ollivander said. "Well do I remember it. Took us long enough to find this one. Eleven inches exactly, Holly with the feather of a Phoenix. How is your bird, Albus?"
"As needy as ever, Garrick," Dumbledore said. "He's getting more ornery with every burning day."
"Pity he won't give me another feather," Ollivander said as he inspected Harry's wand. "His feathers do make for powerful wands."
"I have certainly enjoyed this one," Harry jumped in to forestall anything else Ollivander might say.
"You have taken excellent care of it," Ollivander looked at Harry through his eyelashes and smiled. "confetti tormentum."
A stream of confetti erupted from the wand with the proper accompanying sound.
"Your father would have appreciated that one," Ollivander said, making Harry laugh.
"And Mr. Diggory," the old man stopped in front of the Hufflepuff boy. "Twelve and a quarter inches long, Ash and unicorn hair. One of the longest wands I've ever done, excellently suited for Transfiguration. Found in three wands, if I recall."
"Lucky," Harry said before he could stop himself.
"You know it," Cedric flashed his trademark smile at the Gryffindor.
"Orchideous," Ollivander cast and a bouquet of flowers popped from the end. "For the ladies"
Ollivander split the bouquet in half and handed them to Fleur and Maxime.
"Last we have Mr. Krum," Ollivander approached the fourth boy. "10 and a quarter inch, Hornbeam and heartstring from an- oh my- Ukrainian Ironbelly? This is a Gregorovitch isn't it?"
"It is," Krum said.
"Powerful wands," Ollivander said. "A bit thicker than usual which can limit charmwork but there's something to be said for raw power. Rumor is he had the Deathstick for a while, allowing him to study it."
Ollivander's eyes flicked to Dumbledore and back to Krum.
"Anyway," Ollivander made a fountain of wine come out the end into a goblet. "It is in working order."
Ollivander picked up the goblet to drink the wine.
"And with that, I am off," Ollivander bade them farewell and exited the room.
"Now that that's done and we can see all the wands are in working order, we'll open up the floor to questions."
Rita stood first, a green quill flying across the parchment floating behind her. Luna and Samantha stuck with traditional dictaquills.
"Harry," she bat her eyelashes at him and laughed coquettishly. "You don't mind if I call you Harry do I?"
"I'd prefer if you addressed myself and my fellow champions with propriety," Harry folded his hands in front of him as he spoke.
"Very well," Rita's appearance cooled considerably. "Mr. Potter. Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet, I'm sure you've heard about me. Would you like to tell all of us why you decided to enter this tournament?"
"As I said in my statement," Harry locked eyes with the woman who instantly did not care for. "I did not willingly enter into this tournament. However, I will be competing lest I lose my magic. I am intrigued to see what events lay ahead for my competitors and me. I certainly am eager for the duels to come next week."
"So you really expect us to believe you didn't want to increase your fame a little more?"
"Fame I do not care for," Harry said. "Mr. Krum is famous, he competed in the Quidditch World Cup Final. He caught the Snitch in that game. Ms. Delacour, I'm told, broke the record for the number of Outstanding OWLs in Beauxbatons history."
"And Mr. Diggory? What makes him famous?"
"He's the least famous of us, that is true," Harry acknowledged. "However, he's an exceptional Seeker, gets top marks, founder of the Defense Association, which has helped a lot of students improve their defense acumen, and is a shoo-in to be Head Boy next year. His story is just beginning and I am eager to see what he does in the future."
Cedric, to his credit, smiled and leaned forward as well.
"Mr. Potter is gracious," Cedric said. "However, in his humility, he failed to mention he is also a founding member of the Defense Association and an incredible Seeker in his own right. In fact, if he were just two years older, England would have probably seriously considered him for their World Cup roster. Beyond that, however, he is an exceptional friend. Brave as any Gryffindor and Loyal enough that he'd be at home in Hufflepuff. He's three years younger than us but he should not be discounted as a contender in this tournament."
After Cedric finished speaking, Skeeter sat with a huff, folding her arms while the green quill sped across the page. With the floor open, Luna stood.
"Ms. Delacour," Fleur startled at being addressed. "Luna Lovegood with the Qubbiler. How do you feel being the only witch in the self-described Triwizard Tournament?"
"Eet is not an issue," Fleur smiled in spite of her heavy accent. "Zis is not ze first time I 'ave competed against wizards and I hope they take me lightly."
"What special skills do you have that you feel will give you an advantage in this tournament?" Luna followed up.
"I feel really strong about my charmwork and like combining charms with transfiguration to find unique combinations for unique solutions."
"Thank you, Ms. Delacour," Luna said. "And Mr. Krum. Everyone knows you from Quidditch but what should they know about you as the wizard?"
"I am exceptionally strong in spell casting," Krum said. "My bombarda blew a hole through the classroom wall which we were using."
"We still have problems with a draft in that classroom," Karkaroff said proudly. "I brought many students with me but I only needed one. I knew Viktor would be our champion."
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Luna pressed on. "This tournament was canceled because of the death toll involved. What are you and the other organizers doing to make it safer for contestants?"
"Thank you, Ms. Lovegood," Dumbledore beamed at the small witch. "We will have several experts on hand at every event to step in if anything should go awry. Furthermore, every champion will be outfitted with special robes with runes keyed to their overall health. If there are any issues, we will be alerted and even can portkey them directly to the medical tent. We want this tournament to be entertaining but not at the cost of our contestants."
"Thank you, headmaster," Luna sat back down. If she bothered to look to her left, she would have seen Rita glaring at her.
"Mr. Diggory," a man stood next. "Wallace Murdock, Wizarding Wireless Network. Do you feel you are being overshadowed by Mr. Potter's entry into this?"
Cedric pursed his lips to consider his response.
"If I am overshadowed, it is not by anyone's doing," Cedric said. "I've known Harry for four years now. He doesn't seek fame- hates it in fact- though he always receives it. Yet he's always treated me fairly, acted with honor and supported those who need it. He's famous for what he did as a baby but he's my friend for everything he's done since he arrived."
"Mr. Potter," Rita shot to her feet again. "You seem to have made an impact on everyone here. For someone who hates their fame, you certainly seem to be benefitting from it."
"Is there a question in there?" Harry challenged, trying to keep his temper in check.
"How do you reconcile your distaste for fame with your popularity? Even the other champions don't seem to harbor any hard feelings for you despite your inclusion in an event that's supposed to bring them the fame."
"I have come to terms with my fame; that doesn't mean I have to like it," Harry said. "My fame comes from surviving the supposedly unsurvivable. It is thanks to my parents- two people who are scarcely mentioned when they mention me, by the way- that I lived and the war ended. I'd rather be known for things I have done, the lives I have touched, than anything that happened while I was still figuring out how to walk and talk."
"So that's it then? You entered to get some fame you actually can earn?"
"Once again, Ms. Skeeter, I did not enter," Harry leaned hard on his forearms. "What's done is done. I cannot change what is done. As a friend told me recently, I can only deal with what is."
"Mr. Potter," Luna interrupted Skeeter's next question. "What are you hoping to get out of this tournament now that you are entered."
"First and foremost, I want to survive," Harry relaxed his posture at Luna's question. "After that, I am excited to duel Cedric again and I am beyond fascinated to see what Ms. Dealcour and Mr. Krum can do. I'm interested to see what I can learn from them."
Question after question was asked, most of them by Luna in front of an increasingly irritated Skeeter. She asked Maxime about Fleur, and Karkaroff about Viktor. Murdock asked Harry then took the opportunity to ask why he was donating to St. Mungo's.
"I have a godbrother," Harry said. "His parents are permanent residents of that place as they search tirelessly for a cure. If I could help him or someone else suffering from long-term spell damage, I will gladly support that cause. I thank Celeste Bulstrode and Meredith Dotting for setting up the matching challenge which, at last I heard, is only 150 Galleons away from hitting its goal."
Dumbledore asked for one last question. As usual, it was Luna.
"Mr. Bagman, Mr. Crouch," she looked from one man to the other. "With the controversy surrounding the four champions, what are you as the organizers doing to ensure nothing else like this happens during the tournament itself?"
"We at the ministry couldn't possibly be prepared for someone entering their name under a fourth school," Crouch spoke first. "We have been forced to scramble with the shift but I can assure the contestants and spectators, that this tournament will run smoothly."
"And after the duels," Bagman's boisterous voice picked up the thread. "I'm sure you'll see why this will be the greatest Triwizard Tournament in history."
With the press event finished, the photographer for the Daily Prophet asked for a photo of all the contestants and their headmasters, taking a simple photo arranged around the Madam Maxime since she was so large. After that, he wanted a photo of the four contestants as well. At this picture, Harry had almost had enough. Rita wanted him front and center, while Bozo focused an unhealthy amount on Fleur.
"Excellent, now if you could point your toe toward me, lean forward and cross your arms," Bozo licked his lips as he spoke to an affronted Fleur. Harry soon figured out why and what parts he was focusing on in this pose. Suddenly, Krum's gruff voice interrupted.
"Stop," Krum crossed his arms and blocked Bozo's view of Fleur. "Treat her as a lady should be treated or we're done here."
Harry and Cedric nodded, joining Krum in blocking Fleur. She smiled gratefully at the three boys. It was finally decided that, as Harry was the shortest, he would be in the front, flanked by Fleur and Krum with the taller Cedric in the back. Bozo took his photo, packed up his camera, and left rapidly with Rita. With them gone, Colin stepped up.
"Can I get a couple of photos as well?" Colin looked nervous as he fidgeted with his camera. The others acquiesced and Colin got to work. "Excellent. First, can I get a picture of your four wands on the table?"
Cedric blinked in surprise and, after a silent conversation between him and the other teens, withdrew his wand and placed it on the table.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Colin tugged on the headmaster's sleeve. Dumbledore dropped to a knee and let Colin whisper something in his ear. "Could you do that?"
Dumbledore drew his wand to conjure a copy of the Triwizard cup. Colin placed the wands around the cup, all of them pointing toward it. The flashbulb went off and Colin told everyone they could collect their wands.
"Now if I could get a photo of the four of you?" Colin asked. "But I don't want it in this stuffy room. Could we go onto the grounds to do it?"
It was clear the other three who didn't know Colin were intrigued by him. Yet Harry, who knew Colin, didn't hesitate.
"I think that sounds wonderful," Harry said. "Lead the way, Colin."
Luna and Samantha followed, their charmed parchment and quill following them, their voices adding and crossing out lines as they walked.
Colin eventually stopped outside the courtyard and gestured toward the lake.
"I think I'd like to get the carriage and ship in the background," Colin said.
He placed Harry and Cedric next to one another in a relaxed pose with Cedric leaning on Harry. He had Fleur toss her hair over her shoulder and place a hand on her hip in a graceful power pose. Fleur loved it so much, her smile relaxed and radiated outward. For Krum, Colin had him cross his arms to show off his Qudditch physique.
"That's a great photo," Samantha said. "Would you mind if Witch Weekly used these in its article?"
"Sure," Colin blushed at the praise and recovered. "10 galleons and you may."
Samantha pulled 20 from her money sack.
"For both this and the picture of the wands," she smiled at the boy. "You do good work, glad The Quibbler snapped you up while they could."
Harry thought back to the first time he met Colin and the first photos he took of Hermione and him. The photo still sat next to his bed, one of his absolute favorites.
"I'm so proud of you, Colin," Harry complimented the blushing boy. "You're incredibly talented. I'm glad others will get to see it now."
"Come along, Colin," Luna pulled at the boy's shoulder. "I want to get this sent to daddy tonight, see if we can beat the Prophet to print."
Harry watched them go with a proud smile. If being selected for the tournament allowed them the opportunity to shine, he felt it was worth the cost of his inclusion.
(A/N: Okay sometimes a track title is too perfect for a chapter title. The fact that there's a song with the name Rita in it AND it's done by the Beatles is just *Chef's kiss. Even though she isn't lovely, it's been a title I've had planned since I started this.)
