Chapter 33 :
Snape tiredly welcomed the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins into his classroom.
He once thought that binge drinking would help with the trauma but it didn't : no matter how much he drank, the trauma literally came back twice a week. Now he only had one bottle of Nuclear Vodka left and no way to get any more. He cursed inwardly. Why couldn't he have gotten addicted to something easier to come by !?
Malfoy came in late -at the start of the class really- but he let him go unpunished. The boy looked exhausted to the point of near hysteria. And who could blame him ? He was the last and only thing keeping the Slytherin House alive. Though, looking at the many receding hairlines and even more numerous students with their flesh scratched raw and their magic pulsing at random, he didn't seem to be doing a good job at it.
Well. Snape tried to think positively. At least my Snakes're still alive.
The same wouldn't be said about himself for long if he didn't find an alternative to his beloved beverage. Enshrining his last bottle was of no help, suprisingly. It looked pretty in the cabinet. And it was torturous to only be able to look at it but... Yeah. Perhaps he shouldn't spend all his evenings looking at it while drinking Butterbeer ? Perhaps he should find a hobby or something to keep his mind occupied ? Snape sighed. If all things happy didn't make him think about Lily, he would already have dealt with his problems a long time ago.
He started the lesson and the dunderheads took notes, noticing nothing amiss. Malfoy was glaring at him. Nott was disfigured by this aberration some people called a « smirk ». Snape shuddered in revulsion, barely refraining from vomiting into a student's bubbling cauldron. Potter -Lily- was looking at him with wariness and trepidation. His green eyes -Lily's- stabbing him right where it hurt. The Professor tried to never let his gaze wander from Potter's scar, to remind himself that the brat killed his Lily, that she was gone because of him but... -wasn't it his own fault?- if his glare got extra murderous and his lecture extra snappy, he couldn't really blame himself.
Luckily, a knock on the door soon interrupted the lesson.
"WHAT !" Curtly called out the Potion Master to the student unknowingly saving him from his own mind.
It was a Gryffindor -again- from third year, Crevee- or something else that he was too annoyed to remember.
"I need Harry Potter, Professor !" Answered the boy with an enthusiasm reminiscent of a chihuahua. "The Headmaster told me to bring him for a ceremony !"
The Professor nearly sighed in relief aloud at the idea of being finally free of -Lily...- Potter.
"Well, off you go !" He callously gestured to Lily's son, full of disdain.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the spawn quickly gathered his things and left, leaving him alone with a class of fools, a dead-eyed Malfoy and an amused Nott.
Colin Creevey loved Harry Potter. Harry was his Hero, the embodiment of everything he loved in fairytales. He was brave and pretty and magical. It had been a dream come true to be chosen for the same House as his idol -even if he had to bribe the Sorting Hat for it-. Ever since then, he took an inordinate pleasure in documenting Harry's life : « a day, a photo » was his motto. To be granted the privilege of taking Harry to the Wand Weighing Ceremony was therefore an honor he wouldn't ever forget -buying that dozen pounds of lemon drops for Dumbledore had been so worth it-.
Colin had been scared that Snape would make difficulties since he was interrupting his class, but everything went surprisingly well. And now he was alone in the corridors with Harry. Unsupervised. With no witness. He was so giddy that he couldn't control the bounce in his step.
Too bad the Headmaster's Office wasn't that far... Colin thought about taking a less direct way, but he knew that it wouldn't do. Harry was expected after all, he couldn't make him late. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly led his idol through a few secret passages.
"So... What kind of ceremony do they need me for ?" Asked Harry with his soft marvelous voice.
It was like sugary butter in Colin's ears. No wonder his idol's words were Gospel !
"It's for the Wand Weighing Ceremony, where they inspect every Champions' wands to make sure everything is working properly." He smiled happily. "They also check that no one is cheating. I think they called Ollivander to do it."
Harry nodded soberly. He was probably reminded that his wand would be his only ally in the Tournament. Colin wanted to reassure him, but what could he say ? In the end he didn't dare say anything and they soon reached their goal.
Colin told the password to the gargoyle and accompanied Harry up the stairs and into the Office proper, where they were welcomed by the organizing committee and Ollivander, the Champions, as well as a plain looking man and a woman in green that seemed to be a journalists.
"Finally ! The Hero of the day !" Said the woman with a wide grin. "Come in my dear, come in. I'm Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet and this man is Bozo, my camera man. I am here to interview the Champions. We have much to discuss !"
She was acting like she owned the place and it made Harry uncomfortable. Colin didn't know why but he didn't think he could trust her. This feeling was reinforced by the murderous look on the other Champions' faces. Harry tried to ignore her politely to join them, but the woman caught him by the arm :
"Come on, my boy. You are my last interview of the day ! Let's get in this broom cupboard for more privacy !"
As a wannabe fellow journalist, Colin found this Skeeter very unprofessional. Worse, he now recognized her name as the one of the Daily Prophet's number one sensationalist. When she took out a Quick-Quotes Quill -a quill known for being inaccurate- he knew he had to do everything to save his Harry. He soldiered on, put on his most harmless face, and jumped toward the journalist :
"Oh. My. Merlin ! You're really Rita Skeeter !" He squealed. "I'm your greatest fan ! I love the way you dare to tell everyone the truth, no matter what ! You are certainly one of the few journalists so skilled that they don't need to use those treacherous Quick-Quotes Quills ! As a strong independent woman who forged a path in what used to be a « man's work » in an era where women weren't treated fairly, you are a paradigm to wannabe journalists everywhere ! A real warrior of the Truth ! And the way you uncover the most secrets of scandals is awe-inspiring ! It's like you got a bug listening in on every important meetings !"
Somehow feeling threatened by what he unknowingly implied, Skeeter quickly hid her Quick-Quotes Quill in her sleeve and took out a normal one. She then tried to go past him to catch Harry -that was using this distraction to hide behind Krum-, but Colin persisted and continued to chatter her away, going as far as stepping into her personal space and taking her hand into his. He looked so innocent and eager... She couldn't do anything to resist -they were in public after all- and had no choice but to listen to his petty prattle.
AN: Sorry I'm late! I wasn't available yesterday. Anyway, here the last chapter FOR NOW. I have more to write but it will take time. See you all whenever I'm back~!
