You're My Destiny↣ Harmione

Chapter Ten

We at the Prophet will be contacting the people involved and asking them some hard-hitting questions regarding these matters. We hope to print their answers in our pages tomorrow.

There was silence in the hall, digestion of the news being preferred to breakfast. Harry was left shaking his head, and with a particular mental image he couldn't shift.

"Hermione, all I could think of as I read this rubbish was 'put 'em up, put 'em up!' I'm gonna have that in my head all day now."

Harry's impersonation of Bert Lahr was so good, his intended just buckled with laughter. This was certainly not the reaction Neville expected, and he said so.

"You can laugh about this?"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, Hermione was still trying to get her giggles under control. Using that famous film, Harry tried to come up with an analogy Neville would understand. "It's like a character from a movie Hermione and I love. He built this whole grand persona using smoke and mirrors but was eventually caught out. Malfoy wore his respectability like a cloak. Take that cloak away and everyone can see what he really is. This is his attempt at a fightback. I wonder how much it cost him to get this article in the Prophet? Any decent newspaper would have asked those hard-hitting questions first, instead of just publishing this Malfoy propaganda."

"So, you're okay with this crap?"

This drew a smile from Harry that never reached his eyes. "Without looking, I know that Draco is sitting with a smarmy and smug smile on his face. I also don't need to look to know both Dumbledore and McGonagall will be furious at this..."

Neville did the looking, confirming Harry was correct. McGonagall's glare in the Slytherins' direction actually caused a shiver of dread to run up his spine. His nod to Harry saw him continue with his explanation.

"Malfoy is using the Prophet to publicly poke me and Hogwarts in the eye, with a sly swipe at the ministry thrown in for good measure. I intend to let the adults deal with this. I will of course provide a quote of my own - if asked."

It was Hermione's turn to experience that shiver of dread, swiftly curing her fit of giggling. She knew from painful personal experience what one of the consequences of this was certain to be. "Harry, people believe every word printed in that rag. You'll be bombarded with hate mail - and worse."

The words had barely left Hermione's lips when the first owl bearing a smoking red envelope entered the great hall and flew straight to Harry. Hermione had her wand out, magically untying the howler from the bird's leg before the owl reached its target. As soon as it was untied, the howler became animated and began delivering its hateful message at a tremendous volume.

"HARRY POTTER! YOUR PARENTS MUST BE TURNING IN THEIR GRAVES, KNOWING THE SON THEY DIED SAVING IS A COWARD..."

There was never a chance Harry's temper would hold at that. Snatching the howler out of the air, he firstly strangled it into silence with his bare hands before tearing it into tiny pieces. No one had ever seen this approach used when dealing with a howler before, leaving three quarters of the hall staring at Harry in awe. Even the Slytherins stopped laughing when Harry glared in their direction. There was just something so disconcerting about being glared at by a pair of very angry eyes that were the colour of a killing curse. As more owls began arriving, bearing tidings along the same vein, Hermione was ready to deal with them. She found herself being joined in her endeavours by Professor McGonagall.

As the letters and packages began to pile up, Harry also dealing with another two howlers before they even got to voice their recorded tirade, he had a question for his head of house.

"Professor, can we contact the D.M.L.E. over this matter? Surely it must be against the law to send such things to children?"

"Suck it up, coward!" Was shouted from the Slytherin table. This saw Harry direct his anger in that direction.