Harmione and The Goblet Of Fire

Rita Skeeter and the Champions

Flash! A grey puff of smoke flashed around the room, from within that smoke an average height woman walked out from the smoky surroundings and had a sharp look in her eye. She had thick curly blond hair which curled further at the sides, dull but excitable pale blue eyes which shimmered in the light, she was pasted with blushes which made her cheeks red and had thick glossy lipstick on. She was wearing purple glasses just under her eyes, two green earrings dangled from each ear. She was wearing a fluffy brown scarf around her neck and she was wearing a jungle-green dress which flowed all the way down. She had black and long nails she stepped out and extended her hand. 

"Hello, I'm Rita Skeeter, I write for the Daily Prophet," she shook all of their hands and then threw them up, "well, of course, you know that it's you we don't know," she paused and walked to Fleur " you're the juicy news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks?" she stroked Fleur cheeks then moved over to Cedric, "what mysteries do those muscles mask?" she walked behind Harry, Cedric and Krum. "in short, what makes a champion tick? Me, myself and I want to know, not to mention my rabid readers, so who's willing enough to share it? Hm? We'll start with the youngest, lovely!" she dragged Harry to a door a small when Harry stopped,

"This is cosy," Rita said

"Wait this is broom cupboard?" Harry said

"Well you should feel right at home then," Rita smirked, "Don't mind if I use a quick-note quill do you?" 

"Oh no," Harry said sitting down

"So tell me, Harry, there you sit a mere boy of twelve," Rita began

"I'm fourteen," Harry jumped in

"-about to compete against three students not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself, but have mastered spells you wouldn't dream to do in your dizziest daydreams. Scared?" Rita said as her quick note quill scratched away 

"I don't know I haven't-" Harry tried to speak but he could take his attention of the quill scratching away

"Just ignore the quill," Rita said

"But then you're no ordinary boy of twelve," Rita began

"Fourteen," Harry interjected again

"Stories' legend, do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so desperate to enter such a dangerous tournament," Rita said and Harry's eyes kept flickering from Rita to the quill.

"Oh no I didn't enter," Harry said

"Of course you didn't," Rita winked "Everybody loves a rebel Harry," she finished

"Speaking of your parents, how do you think they'd feel if they were alive, proud or concerned that your attitude shows your best pathological need for attention, or worst a psychological death wish," Rita said which made Harry grow redder and angrier.

"Hey my eyes aren't swimming with the ghost of my past," Harry snapped seeing a note on the piece of paper and Rita did a sheepish smile.