June twenty fourth was a month and a half away.
Then a month.
Three weeks.
Two weeks.
One week.
The morning of June twenty fourth came far too quickly.
Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table. Everyone coming up to him to offer luck while he was just trying to eat a slice of toast lost his appreciation very quickly.
A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.
"What?" said Harry and Ron together, staring at her.
"Nothing," said Hermione quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it.
He stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."
"What?" said Harry. "Rita Skeeter again?"
"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.
"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry.
"No," said Ron, in an entirely unconvincing tone.
But before Harry could demand to see the paper, Draco was slamming it down on the table infront of him.
"Look at this!" He seethed, "how is she doing this?"
"Let me see it," Harry said trying to pull it out from under Draco's hand. "Give it here."
Draco lifted his hand from the paper and slid onto the bench besides him.
Harry turned it over and found himself staring at his own picture, beneath the banner headline:
HARRY POTTER "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"
The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be- Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.
Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.
It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.
"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."
The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has care- fully concealed from the wizarding public.
"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals a Hogwarts student. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."
Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."
Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.
"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper.
"Harry!" Draco's eyes were wide, "there are things in there that she simply couldn't have known."
"He's right, Harry, how did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron said. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard —"
"The window was open," said Harry. "I opened it to breathe."
"You were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione said. "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"
"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" said Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"
"I've been trying!" said Hermione. "But I . . . but . . ."
An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione's face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Are you all right?" said Ron, frowning at her.
"Yes," said Hermione breathlessly.
She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron stared at each other.
"I've had an idea," Hermione said, gazing into space. "I think I know . . . because then no one would be able to see . . . even Moody . . . and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge . . . but she's not allowed . . . she's definitely not allowed . . . I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library — just to make sure!"
With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.
"Oi!" Ron called after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he said, turning back to Harry, "she must really hate that Skeeter woman to risk missing the start of an exam. What're you going to do in Binns's class — read again?"
Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, Harry had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.
"S'pose so," Harry said to Ron; but just then, Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.
"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.
"But the task's not till tonight!" said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.
"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."
She moved away. Harry gaped after her.
"Severus and I have exams all day." Draco frowned, "so does Sirius and I talked to Remus just yesterday, he's working until the task begins."
"So who's she talking about?" Harry frowned.
"Dunno," said Ron. "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later."
"Me too, sorry Harry, I've got run too." Draco said, "I'll see you later, alright?"
Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall.
He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered.
Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward.
Harry stayed where he was. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no other family—none other than the members who were already in the castle, that is. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.
"Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!"
Utterly perplexed, Harry got up. The Dursleys couldn't possibly be here, could they? He hoped not, if that were the case he might have to use one of those hexes on himself.
He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.
Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his father's hooked nose.
On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning.
Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fire- place, beaming at him.
"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them. "Severus told us the predicament about exams overlapping with the family visit. Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry!" She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
"You all right?" said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail."
Fleur Delacour, Harry noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder.
Harry could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.
"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley. "I thought for a moment — the Dursleys —"
"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from discussing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned.
Harry knew somebody had told her.
"It's great being back here," said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"
"Oh yeah," said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.
"And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.
"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning —"
"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.
Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.
"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," she said. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle — he was the caretaker in those days — your father's still got the marks."
"Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?" said Bill.
"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall.
As they passed Amos Diggory, he looked around.
"There you are, are you?" he said, looking Harry up and down. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?"
"What?" said Harry.
"Ignore him," said Cedric in a low voice to Harry, frowning after his father. "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament — you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."
"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?" said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear as he started to walk out of the door with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. "Still . . . you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?"
"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said angrily. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"
Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.
Harry had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Bill and Mrs. Weasley, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship.
"How's Percy?" Harry asked as they walked around the greenhouses.
"Not good," said Bill.
"He's very upset," said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. "The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it."
They returned to the castle for lunch.
"Mum — Bill!" said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"
"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"
"Oh . . . okay," said Ron. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."
Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow; he had forgotten to worry about that evening's task, and not until Hermione turned up, halfway through lunch, did he remember that she had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter.
"Are you going to tell us — ?"
Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.
"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.
"Hello," said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.
Harry looked between them, then said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend, and I don't know if this has to be said but Draco's definitely definitely not my boyfriend."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley. "No — of course I didn't!"
But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that.
Harry, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast.
Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now.
Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking.
Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red.
Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.
There were more courses than usual, but Harry, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much.
As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.
"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Weasleys, Draco, and Hermione all wished him good luck, and he headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor.
The third task was about to begin.