Chapter Eighteen
The next day was even worse, it was one thing to hide away in the library with his friends, but Monday brought lessons and there was no way to escape the other students then.
Professor McGonagall managed to take ten points off him during the course of the Transfiguration lesson and Professor Sprout barely said two words to him in Herbology. Harry wasn't surprised that she was annoyed with him, she was head of Hufflepuff house; it was only right that she felt somewhat betrayed by Harry.
Hagrid was happy to see him at least. The Skrewts had managed to grow massively, they had finally worked out what they liked to eat; each other. Thankfully there were only a couple of dozen left now.
"I'm not sure if I want them all to eat each other or not." Draco mused, watching them thrash around as they waited for Hargid, "I mean if they did, there would be only one of them, but that one might well turn into some sort of giant Skrewt which would blow up the school."
Harry let out a snort of laughter at the thought of a castle sized Skrewt rampaging around the place, "Maybe that's what I'll have to face."
"Morinin' all." Hagrid said coming over, with what looked like several dog leads, "Today we're goin' to be walkin' the Skrewts. Gettin' a bit restless I think."
"Walking?" Tracy said, looking horrified, "Please tell me that is some sort of joke!"
Hagrid glared at her, "Fix the lead round the middle. 'Ere 'Arry come help me with this big 'en."
Harry nodded and moved over to Hagrid. Hagrid waited until the rest of the class had moved away walking the Skrewts and bent his head low to Harry's.
"So… yer competin'? In the Tournament? School champion." Hagrid asked.
Harry nodded, "Well, one of the school champions. Cedric is school champion really."
Hagrid nodded and pretended to be doing something to one of the boxes for a moment, "No idea who put yeh name in?"
Harry shook his head, "Not a clue. You believe me then?"
Hagrid nodded, almost insulted that Harry could have thought anything other, "O'course. Yeh say it weren' you. 'Nd Dumbledore believes yeh, and Snape. Sure yer Mam believes you too."
Harry smiled at him, "You seem to be the only one around here who does. Everyone else thinks this was some grand plan to get all the attention back on me."
Hagrid shrugged, "It does all seem ta happen to you."
Harry nodded, he couldn't deny that one; although he often wished it didn't. He was still trying to get the stupid lead on the Skrewt. They were no longer shell-less and small, they were now three foot long and had grown a sort of greyish armour making them look like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs, although they still didn't have any obvious heads.
They were also immensely strong and were pulling the class around the grounds. Every so often it would explode, dragging the poor student trying to walk it forward by several foot.
"Look like they're 'avin' fun don't they?" Hagrid smiled.
Harry looked at him in confusion, "I'm not so sure about that."
Hagrid looked down at him and smiled, "Yeah, they are gettin' a bit feisty."
"Where did you even get them from Hagrid? I've never heard of them before."
Hagrid coughed and looked away before calling the class back. Harry was quite sure that where ever Hargid had gotten the Blast-ended-Skrewts from, it wasn't good.
Over the next few days things had only gotten worse for Harry. Every morning when he woke up it seemed like more and more of the school was against him.
Ron had been over heard by Neville trying to get Fred and George to make badges supporting Cedric, and letting everyone know what they thought of Harry. Thankfully Fred and George had refused, mostly only because they apparently had something more important to be getting on with, something to do with Ludo Bagman.
Harry had taken to writing letters to Severus rather than talking to him at the end of lessons or in the Great Hall. It was bad enough that people were blaming Harry but it was seemingly obvious to everyone that the way Harry had gotten his name in the Goblet of Fire was Severus put it in there for him.
They had double Potions that would have been fine, if it hadn't been with the Gryffindors; their loathing for Harry had only gotten worse as the days had ticked by.
Harry waited in the hallway with Pansy, Daphne, Draco, Hermione and Neville, trying to ignore Ron, who was talking very loudly.
"I mean come on, if Potter could get into the Tournament it can't be that hard." Ron said, leaning against the wall, "He just had the advantage of getting a teacher on side."
Harry felt his anger level rise, "My Dad had nothing to do with my name being called." he snapped.
"Harry," Hermione said warningly, "He's not worth it."
"You know I'm not so sure it was a teacher." Lavender said, simpering at Ron, "If it was I'm sure she could have gotten someone to help he as well." she pointed to Daphne.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Draco, Neville and Daphne demanded at once.
Lavender just giggled and turned away. Ron smirked at looked up the length of Daphne's legs.
"Yeah I think you're right there Lavender, I mean come on. She's not exactly sending out a good message." Ron said.
"How dare you?!" Daphne fumed, stepping towards him.
"Miss Greengrass what is this about?" Professor Snape asked, stepping out his classroom door and between Daphne and Ron.
"He… he was insinuating..." Daphne wasn't sure how to put it.
"I never said anything… that wasn't true anyway." Ron smirked, muttering under his breath.
"He was saying she was a..." Harry didn't want to burst it out in front of both Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years; it was bad enough that Ron and Lavender had said it. He took Severus hand and lead him off to the side.
Severus came back and glared at Ron, "If I hear you have been saying such things about your fellow students again, I will take great pleasure in taking every single house point Gryffindor has. You too Miss Brown. Now in."
They walked into the classroom in silence and took their seats.
"You don't think I'm a slut do you?" Daphne whispered to Harry.
Harry shook his head, "No. Not at all. He was just being an arse."
Daphne nodded and turned her attention to Professor Snape who was writing 'Antidotes' in large letters on the blackboard.
"Antidotes!" Snape said, glaring at the class, "You should all have prepared your recipes now, I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."
Harry caught the glint of laughter in Severus's eye but the rest of the class for the most part just looked terrified.
There was a loud knock on the classroom door and a small head poked round.
"Yes?" Professor Snape asked, "Come in Mr Creevey."
The small boy moved carefully into the room and up to Snape's desk.
"Please sir, I've been sent to get Harry Potter." he said, "I need to take him upstairs."
Snape glared down at him, "Mr Potter has another hour of potions. He can go after that."
Colin's smile faded and he went rather pink around the ears, "Umm…please, Sir… Mr Bagman wants him upstairs straight away. All the champions have to go, I think they want to take photographs and-"
"Very well, Harry you can go, leave your things here, you can collect them later." Snape told him.
"Oh no Sir, he has to take his things with him." Colin squeaked, "All the champions..."
"All right!" Severus snapped. He nodded to Harry who smiled sadly at him, he would have enjoyed the chance to spend sometime with Severus without either of them being accused of something.
Harry followed Colin out of the room and up the stairs towards the Entrance Hall.
"Did they say who they're taking photographs for?" Harry asked.
"The Daily Prophet I think." Colin said excitedly, "Isn't it brilliant?!"
Harry forced a smile, "Yeah. Just what I need, more publicity."
They reached the right room and Colin knocked on the door and wished Harry luck before darting back off down the corridor.
The door opened and Harry walked in. The other three were already there. Krum was standing looking moodily in the corner. Fleur and Cedric were deep in conversation with one another. Harry could see that the room was normally a classroom, all the desks but one had been pushed to the sides.
One desk, draped in velvet, still stood at the front of the room with a chair positioned behind it.
A paunchy man, holding a large black camera which was giving off a steady, thin stream of smoke caught Harry's eye. Harry remembered him from when Gilderoy Lockhart had grabbed him in the book store, the summer before second year.
Ludo Bagman spotted that Harry had entered and beamed at him, "Harry you're here! The fourth champion! In you come, in you come. Nothing to worry about, just the wand weighing ceremony, nothing to worry about, the other judges will be here in just a moment."
Harry looked at him nervously, "Wand weighing?"
Bagman nodded, "Oh yes, just to make sure that they're fully operational. They're going to be your most important tool in the challenges ahead. Some wands can become a bit problematic, over time you see."
Harry nodded, in truth he thought that anyone with a damaged wand would have known about it. A thought did flash through his head that if he damaged his wand, they might not let him compete, but he liked his wand, and they'd only make him get a new one anyway. Ludo Bagman was determined to see him compete.
"The experts are upstairs just now." Ludo said, breaking Harry away from his thoughts, "And there is going to be a little photo shoot for you all and… ahh here's Rita Skeeter, she's doing a small article for the Daily Prophet."
Harry looked at the smartly dressed witch in bright magenta robes. Harry knew how she was, he had several articles, mostly completely made up, that she'd written about him.
"Maybe not that small, Ludo." She said stepping forward and eyeing Harry up and down.
She looked older than she did in her photographs, with wrinkles around her eyes, her jaw was also heavier, her tight, ridged curls contrasted strangely. She held out a hand to Harry for him to shake.
Harry shook it politely, her two inch nails painted bright crimson, scrapped his hand slightly.
"Nice to meet you." Harry said.
Rita smiled brightly at him, "And very nice to meet you Harry, I've written so much about you before!"
Harry forced a smile, that came out far more like a grimace. Ludo was still beaming around the room, Harry wondered if the man ever stopped smiling.
"Ludo, I wonder if I could have a quick work with Harry? Just before we start?" Rita purred at Bagman.
Harry dreaded the thought of being alone with her but strongly suspected that he wasn't about to have a say in the matter. Rita Skeeter was looking him up and down like a prize show horse.
"Certainly!" Bagman beamed, "I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind."
"Well...umm-" Harry started but Rita Skeeter had already taken his arm and was leading him off to the side.
She led him from the room and opened a nearby door.
"It's a broom cupboard." Harry said, looking at her strangely, her curls hadn't moved once.
"Yep!" She said happily, "Well we don't want to be in there, with all that noise. No this is much better, nice and cosy."
She pushed Harry down onto a cardboard box and shut the cupboard door, plunging them into darkness.
"Right now lets see..."
Harry could hear her rustling around in her crocodile skin clutch bag. She pulled out several candles, they hovered in the air as she lit them with the tip of her wand.
"You don't mind me using a Quick-Quotes Quill do you Harry?" Rita smiled at him, an overly large and fake smile that showed her back teeth, "It just leaves me free to talk to you normally."
Harry nodded, Lily and Kreacher often used them to make up the shopping lists.
Rita Skeeter smiled even wider and pulled out a large, acid-green quill and a long roll of parchment, which she stretched between them on a box of Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover.
She licked the tip of the quill and balanced it on the parchment, "Testing… my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."
Harry looked down at the quill, it was scribbling quickly across the parchment.
'Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty three, whose savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations-'
Harry frowned at her, Quick-Quote Quills were meant to copy exactly what you said, clearly she'd been messing around with this one.
"Lovely." Rita Skeeter beamed at him. She ripped off the top of the parchment and stuffed it into her bag.
She looked at Harry through her fake eyelashes and leaned forward, "So, Harry… what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"
"I...umm..." Harry was distracted by the quill.
'An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes-'
"Just ignore the quill Harry." Rita smiled, drawing his attention away from the still writing quill, "So, come on. What made you put your name in?"
"I didn't." Harry shrugged, "I don't know how my name got in there but it wasn't me."
Rita Skeeter raised one of her heavily pencilled eyebrows, "Come now, Harry. There's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all, but don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel!"
Harry took a deep breath to stop him from snapping back something stupid, "I'm sorry but I didn't enter. I don't-"
"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" Rita Skeeter asked, she realised she wasn't going to get Harry to admit to putting his name in the cup so changed the subject, cutting across Harry, "Are you nervous? Excited?"
Harry didn't want to admit how scared he really was, "Well a bit nervous I guess. I haven't really thought about it."
"Really?" Rita asked doubtingly, "Champions have died in the past you know."
Harry nodded, "Yes, well they said it's going to be a lot safer this year, and it's not like I haven't faced dangers in the past."
Rita grinned broadly, "Yes. That is very true, you have faced death before. Do you think the trauma of you troubled past was what lead you to enter into the Tournament?"
"I. Didn't. Enter." Harry said, through gritted teeth.
"Do you think your father would be proud of you?" Rita asked.
Harry shook his head, he didn't like where this was going, "Severus is more worried about me than anything else."
Rita grinned, "I meant James, your actual father?"
Harry felt a lump in his throat, "I don't know. Everyone says he loved getting into trouble so probably." he forced a laugh.
"You can't remember him then?" Rita said, a fake look of sympathy on her face.
Harry shook his head, "I've been very lucky though. I have a lot of his school friends around me, to tell me what he was like."
"And Lily! Your mother, how's she taking the news?" Rita asked.
Lily's shocked face, her rage at Bagman when he said Harry would have to compete filled Harry's mind, "She's worried. All my family is."
He looked down to the quill, if only to pretend for a few seconds that Rita wasn't forcing him to think about things he'd rather not.
'Tears fill those startlingly green eyes as our conversation turns to the father he lost, the mother barely hanging on and the step-father- friend or foe?'
"Oh come on!" Harry snapped, "I've hardly got tears in my eyes!"
Rita opened her mouth to say something else when the door was flung open. Harry blinked in the bright light that suddenly filled the broom cupboard, Dumbledore's tall figure silhouetted for a moment, looking down at them.
"Dumbledore!" Rita cried in over dramatic delight. Harry looked down and saw that the quill and parchment had vanished, "How are you?" she said, standing up and holding out her hand for him, "I hope you saw my little piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
Dumbledore gave her a smile, his eyes twinkling, "Enchantingly nasty." he said, "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an 'obsolete dingbat'."
Rita Skeeter didn't even flinch or look slightly abashed, "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little...old fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street..."
Dumbledore raised a hand to stop her, "I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," he said with a small bow, "but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to begin. It can hardly take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."