Courage

-55-

She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Layla gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, Ron, and Hermione started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"There's something funny, though," Hermione spoke up ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known?"

"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been helping Layla mix up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just... how did she know Cedric asked Layla to stay with him over the summer? The only people Layla told, as far as I'm aware, are me and Ginny." Hermione glanced at Layla beside her. "Right?"

"Yeah," Layla nodded. "That's right. I didn't tell anyone else."

"I'm a bit offended that you didn't tell me," said Ron jokingly, but Harry was looking at Layla with a slightly surprised expression. 

"What?" he said, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Layla muttered. "Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to—"

"And what did you say?" said Harry, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Layla.

"But how could Rita Skeeter have heard mine and Ced's conversation?" Layla went on. "She wasn't there."

"Or was she?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task."

"And what did you say?" Layla repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you, 'Mione, and Ron were okay to—"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is. Miss Lupin," said an icy voice right behind them, and all four of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Draco took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

"Ah... reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor... oh but of course..." Snapes black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings."

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To both Layla's and Harry's fury, he began to read the article aloud.

"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache...' dear, dear. Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps...'"

Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape.

"'...Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, beside Mr Crabbe. Miss Lupin, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter — that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."