34 Votes in Poll
Does anyone know if anyone has ever written a fanfic about the Rita Skeeter Quibbler Interview in OOTP? I’ve thought about it writing one before but I wouldn’t want to if it’s already been done. Thanks!
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@Bellatrisblack @CatsAndRoblox @Rose.gold.kiisses @MeowTasticCat @Jellybean Jade @Missy Clara Oswald @Teddy.J.B
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Seen and Unforeseen
Luna said vaguely that she did not know how soon Rita’s interview with Harry would appear in The Quibbler, that her father was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. ‘And, of course, that’ll be a very important story, so Harry’s might have to wait for the following issue,’ said Luna.
Harry had not found it an easy experience to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned. Rita had pressed him for every little detail, and he had given her everything he could remember, knowing that this was his one big opportunity to tell the world the truth. He wondered how people would react to the story. He guessed that it would confirm a lot of people in the view that he was completely insane, not least because his story would be appearing alongside utter rubbish about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. But the breakout of Bellatrix Lestrange and her fellow Death Eaters had given Harry a burning desire to do something, whether it worked or not...
'I can not wait to see Umbridges reaction to the article,' said Tracey, sounding awestruck at dinner that night. 'Since you didn't break any of her rules she can't punish you. This feels like a small victory.'
'You did the right thing, Harry,' said Terence, who was sitting opposite him. He was smiling brightly, but went on in a low voice, 'Though it must have been tough having to relive those memories, are you alright?'
'Yeah, I am,' mumbled Harry, 'but people have got to know what Voldemort’s capable of, haven’t they?'
'Yes, they should,' said Theodore nervously, who had been on edge since that morning, 'and they need to know who is still a loyal Death Eater and what they are capable of...'
Theodore might have been worried about what people would think, but all Harry could think was how brave he was for allowing Harry to put something so personal to him into the magazine for the wizarding world to see in hopes that it'll keep people safe.
Cho Chang walked into the hall with her friend Marietta. Harry’s stomach gave an unpleasant lurch, but she did not look over at the Gryffindor table and sat down with her back to him.
‘So, Harry,’ said Tracey sounding much calmer than she had a minute ago, she was glancing over at the Ravenclaw table, ‘Alli mentioned you had left your date early. What happened between you and Cho?’
‘Er…well, it was…’ said Harry, pulling a dish of rhubarb crumble toward him and helping himself to seconds, ‘it was going well then turned into a complete fiasco, now you mention it.’
And he told her, Theodore, and Terence what had happened in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.
‘…so then,’ he finished several minutes later, as the final bit of crumble disappeared, ‘she got up, right, and says ‘You have to get to your meeting. Go!’ and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I left!’ He put down his spoon and looked at Tracey. ‘I mean, what was all that about? What was going on?’
Tracey glanced over at the back of Cho’s head, then towards the entrance hall, and sighed. ‘Goodness, Harry, you really messed up.’
‘I messed up?’ said Harry, outraged. ‘One minute we were getting on fine, next minute she was telling me that Roger Davies asked her out, and how she used to go and snog Cedric in that stupid tea shop—how was I supposed to feel about that?’
‘That part is on her, though you probably should have shown some more empathy about Cedric,’ said Tracey, trying to be both encouraging and criticizing at the same time, ‘but you shouldn’t have said you wanted to meet Alli later during your date.’
‘But, but,’ spluttered Harry, ‘but—Allison had told me to meet her at twelve and that it was ok to bring Cho along, how was I supposed to do that without telling her—?’
‘You still had to tell her, but you should have told her differently,’ said Tracey, her attention fully on Harry. ‘You should have made the meeting sound like some boring and inconvenient thing that you were simply obligated to attend. Make it seem like you would rather spend more time with her and that is why she should go, so that you wouldn’t have to leave her. And maybe just for that moment make it seem like you think Allison is a bit unpleasant, and—‘
‘But I don’t think there is anything unpleasant about Allison at all,’ argued Harry. ‘I don’t want to lie about my friend.’
‘What I mean is, Cho doesn’t know much about me or Allison, only that we get to be near you a lot more than she does, so it is perfectly normal for her to see us as threats to her romantic relationship to you,’ explained Tracey.
‘But none of you are a threat, and if she really wants to get to know me she should know that. If she ends up hanging out with all of us wouldn’t it be odd if she thought I hated half my friends?’
‘That’s sweet of you to say Harry, but we’re getting off topic. Cho got jealous when you talked about wanting to see Allison, so she either consciously or unconsciously brought up Davies and Cedric to make you jealous in turn. She was probably trying to determine how much you actually liked her.’
‘Is that what she was doing?’ said Harry, quite confused, ‘Well, wouldn’t it have been easier if she’d just asked me whether I liked her better than Allison?’
‘I don’t know Harry,’ said Tracey with a sigh, ‘girls can have trouble expressing their emotions just as much as boys, look how long it took me and Terence to get together, and every person thinks differently. She probably was just having a hard time figuring out how to ask if you really like her.’
‘Well, I wish she did!’ said Harry forcefully. ‘Then I could’ve just told her I fancy her, and she wouldn’t have had to get herself all worked up again about Cedric dying!’
'I don't know Harry,' said Tracey now getting a little annoyed, 'if you truly want to know what she's thinking you should ask her. I'm only trying to make logical guess. Now if you'll excuse me I promised Allison I would help her out after supper.'
'Right, what is Allison doing that she skipped supper?' asked Harry, as he had noticed his friend absences.
'She's, um, studying for an Ancient Runes exam,' said Tracey quickly, and then walked off.
Theodore turned to Harry with a confused look on his face, 'But if only Allison takes Study of Ancient Runes, how is Tracey supposed to help her?'
But Harry did not have an answer.
Time continued to pass, Harry found himself slowly becoming more and more miserable as the year continued. His lessons with Snape were draining, watching Quidditch games from the stands instead of the sky was depressing, courses were getting even harder, and Umbridge was only getting more cruel. Some of the only positives in Harry's life was his D.A. meetings that were also allowing him and Cho to become slightly more friendly with each other again, though they still weren't talking much yet.
Cho wasn't the only one he was talking to at D.A. meetings however, as near the end of one meeting when nearly everyone had left Harry spotted something out of place. A Slytherin girl from his year, Daphne Greengrass was sitting in a corner, looking like she was in the middle of a panic attack. He and her weren't that close but they were at least on friendly terms and no one seemed to have noticed her so he decided to go see what is wrong. He sat down next to her.
'Hey Daphne, are you ok..?' he asked hesitantly.
She looked up, 'Oh, um, hi Harry, I-I didn't see you there.'
'Yeah, I noticed you were upset, is everything alright?'
Her lip quivered, and her voice was shaking, but she tried her best to stay composed, 'I don't know, I am worried Harry, about Millicent.'
Daphne Greengrass was in a friend group with Draco Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode, who was large and often brooding, but could be witty and helpful when she wanted to be. Harry also knew she and Daphne were quite close, much closer than Allison and Tracey were, and that when Theodore had reluctantly gone to the Yule Ball last year with Millicent she had spent the whole night with Daphne instead.
'You and Millicent, you're...'
'I don't know what we are anymore,' said Daphne with a gulp of air. 'For months she's been asking me where I sometimes sneak off to, and at first I just made up excuses but then after Christmas I started considering asking her to join us as she is decently skilled at jinxes, hexes, and defensive spells, but recently she's been talking with Draco about potentially joining the Inquisitorial Squad, as they offer extra credit. I have a hard enough time with Tracey and Allison's help keeping Pansy from figuring out where I am going, but now soon both my best friends will be under Umbridge's thumb too. What am I supposed to do, I feel trapped.'
Harry thought about it for a moment, he wasn't sure what he'd do if Allison or Theodore had joined Umbridge's squad. He now understood why she was so stressed.
'If you need to miss some meetings to throw off suspicion or to spend more time with Millicent to try and convince her not to join the I.S. I will understand,' said Harry trying to sound empathetic. 'Just promise you won't break and tell anyone about our meetings.'
The corners of her lips curled up into a slight smile, 'Thank you Harry, you're a good teacher.'
After the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Harry got into bed, thinking about the match. It had been immensely frustrating watching from the sidelines. Umbridge had been sitting a few rows below Harry and Canini. Once or twice she had turned squatly in her seat to look at him, her wide toad’s mouth stretched in what he thought had been a gloating smile. The memory of it made him feel hot with anger as he lay there in the dark. After a few minutes, however, he remembered that he was supposed to be emptying his mind of all emotion before he slept, as Snape kept instructing him at the end of every Occlumency lesson.
He tried for a moment or two, but the thought of Snape on top of memories of Umbridge merely increased his sense of grumbling resentment, and he found himself focusing instead on how much he loathed the pair of them. Slowly, Goyle's snores died down, replaced by the sound of deep, slow breathing. It took Harry much longer to get to sleep; his body was tired, but it took his brain a long time to close down.
He dreamed that Neville and Professor Sprout were waltzing around the Room of Requirement while Professor McGonagall played the bagpipes. He watched them happily for a while, then decided to go and find the other members of the D.A...
But when he left the room he found himself facing, not the tapes-try of Barnabas the Barmy, but a torch burning in its bracket on a stone wall. He turned his head slowly to the left. There, at the far end of the windowless passage, was a plain, black door.
He walked toward it with a sense of mounting excitement. He had the strangest feeling that this time he was going to get lucky at last, and find the way to open it...He was feet from it and saw with a leap of excitement that there was a glowing strip of faint blue light down the right-hand side...The door was ajar...He stretched out his hand to push it wide and—
Crabbe gave a loud, rasping, genuine snore, and Harry awoke abruptly with his right hand stretched in front of him in the darkness, to open a door that was hundreds of miles away. He let it fall with a feeling of mingled disappointment and guilt. He knew he should not have seen the door, but at the same time, felt so consumed with curiosity about what was behind it that he could not help feeling annoyed that he had woken up...
They entered the Great Hall for breakfast at exactly the same moment as the post owls on that Monday morning. Colin was not the only person eagerly awaiting their Daily Prophet: Nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many reported sightings, had still not been caught even after nearly two months. Colin gave the delivery owl a Knut and unfolded the newspaper eagerly while Harry helped himself to orange juice; as he had only received one note during the entire year he was sure, when the first owl landed with a thud in front of him, that it had made a mistake.
‘Who’re you after?’ he asked it, languidly removing his orange juice from underneath its beak and leaning forward to see the recipient’s name and address:
“Harry Potter Great Hall Hogwarts School”
Frowning, he made to take the letter from the owl, but before he could do so, three, four, five more owls had fluttered down beside it and were jockeying for position, treading in the butter, knocking over the salt, and each attempting to give him their letters first.
‘Who’re they all from?’ Terence asked in amazement, as the whole of Slytherin table leaned forward to watch as another seven owls landed amongst the first ones, screeching, hooting, and flapping their wings.
‘Harry!’ said Allison breathlessly, plunging her hands into the feathery mass and pulling out a screech owl bearing a long, cylindrical package. ‘I believe I know what’s going on—open this one first!’
Harry ripped off the brown packaging. Out rolled a tightly furled copy of March’s edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see his own face grinning sheepishly at him from the front cover. In large red letters across his picture were the words:
“HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:
THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN”
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ said Luna, who had drifted over to the Slytherin table and now squeezed herself onto the bench between Fred and Ron. ‘It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these,’ she waved a hand at the assembled owls still scrabbling around on the table in front of Harry, ‘are letters from readers.’
‘Then at least half of my plan has worked so far,’ said Allison eagerly, ‘people are reading what you said.’
Theodore picked up a fistful of the letters, ‘Harry, would it be ok if we—?’
‘Help yourself,’ said Harry, feeling lightly bemused.
Tracey, Allison, Theodore, Colin, Terence all started ripping open envelopes and reading them.
‘This one is from a man who thinks you’re mental,’ said Theodore, glancing down his letter. ‘To bad…’
‘This witch recommends you try Shock Spells therapy at St. Mungo’s,’ said Allison, looking disappointed and crumpling up a second.
‘This one looks okay, though,’ said Harry slowly, scanning a long letter from a witch in Paisley. ‘Hey, she says she believes me!’
‘We have a half victory over here,’ said Canini, who had joined in the letter-opening with enthusiasm. ‘He says you don’t come across as a mad person, but he really doesn’t want to believe You-Know-Who’s back so he doesn’t know what to think now…Even just someone not thinking you’re a lunatic is better than what they used to think…’
‘Here is another person you’ve convinced, Harry!’ said with a hint of excitement and pride in her voice. ‘“Having read your side of the story I am forced to the conclusion that the Daily Prophet has treated you very unfairly…Little though I want to think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you are telling the truth…” It’s working Harry!’
‘This one still thinks you’re Barmy,’ said Terence, throwing a crumpled letter over his shoulder.
We’ve got another one that says you’ve got her converted,’ said Tracey beaming, ‘and she now thinks you’re a real hero—there’s even a photograph in here too.’
‘This one is all the way from Canada and they had used a port key to receive their copy,’ said Colin eagerly, ‘they say they always believed you and are glad to finally read your full version of events. Harry your article is spreading farther than just the UK!’
‘What is going on here?’ said a falsely sweet, girlish voice.
Harry looked up with his hands full of envelopes. Professor Umbridge was standing behind Canini and Luna, her bulging toad’s eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Harry. Behind her he saw many of the students watching them avidly.
‘Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter?’ she asked slowly.
‘Is receiving mail illegal now?’ said Allison loudly.
‘Be careful, Miss Runcorn, or I shall have to put you in detention and have a word with your father,’ said Umbridge. ‘Well, Mr Potter?’
Harry hesitated, but he did not see how he could keep what he had done quiet; it was surely only a matter of time before a copy of The Quibbler came to Umbridge’s attention.
‘People have written to me because I gave an interview,’ said Harry. ‘About what happened to me last June.’
For some reason he glanced up at the staff table as he said this. He had the strangest feeling that Dumbledore had been watching him a second before, but when he looked, Dumbledore seemed to be absorbed in conversation with Professor Flitwick.
‘An interview?’ repeated Umbridge, her voice thinner and higher than ever. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them,’ said Harry. ‘Here—‘
And he threw the copy of The Quibbler at her. She caught it and stared down at the cover. Her pale, doughy face turned an ugly, patchy violet.
‘When did you do this?’ she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
‘Last Hogsmeade weekend,’ said Harry. ‘Being interviewed isn’t against your decrees, so I thought, why not?’
She looked up at him, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers.
‘But telling lies it! There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr Potter,’ she whispered. ‘How you dare…how you could…’ She took a deep breath. ‘I tried so very hard to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Slytherin and another week’s worth of detentions.’
She stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many students following her.
By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too.
“—byorderof—
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts
Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Eight.
Signed:
high inquisitor Dolores Umbridge”
For some reason, every time Tracey caught sight of one of these signs she beamed with pleasure.
‘What exactly are you so happy about?’ Harry asked her.
‘Can’t you see, Harry?’ Tracey breathed. ‘This school is filled with teens, if you tell someone they can’t have something they’re going to want it more. Umbridge has just harem tees that every student in this school is going to want to read what you wrote!’
And it seemed that Tracey was quite right. By the end of that day, though Harry had not seen so much as a corner of The Quibbler anywhere in the school, the whole place seemed to be quoting the interview at each other; Harry heard them whispering about it as they queued up outside classes, discussing it over lunch and in the back of lessons, while Allison even reported that every occupant of the cubicles in the girls’ toilets had been talking about it when she nipped in there before Ancient Runes.
‘And when I was leaving the girls noticed me, and they all know that I am your friend, so they were bombarding me with questions,’ Allison told Harry, with pride, ‘I think it worked, they all believe you Harry, I think they really do!’
Meanwhile Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets. Harry knew she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Harry’s interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from text-books if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.
The teachers were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Slytherin twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said 'Shh!' and hurried away; and Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister of Magic, and have twelve children.
But what made Harry happiest was Cho catching up with him as he was hurrying along to Transfiguration the next day. Before he knew what had happened her hand was in his and she was breathing in his ear, 'I’m really, really sorry. That interview was so brave...it made me cry.'
He was sorry to hear she had shed even more tears over it, but very glad they were on speaking terms again, and even more pleased when she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and hurried off again. If anything more was needed to complete Harry’s happiness, it was Crabbe, Goyle, and even Malfoy's reactions. While Malfoy hadn't really hung around them in over two years, something all three of them had in common was they were all son's of Death Eaters, and people were talking about it. Theodore had been worried that students would talk about him even more than they had when his father was mentioned in the break out, and a few were, but most had seemingly gotten it out of their system then, as well as a fifth of the school had gotten to know him through Dumbledore's Army and knew he wasn't his father. But the same couldn't be said about the other children of Death Eaters. Harry saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library. All three looked like a nervous wreck. Things had been getting quite uncomfortable for Harry and Theodore in their dorm room, but the article had seemingly reestablished the unspoken rule that no one talk to one another and Harry knew why, because if they talked to Harry about what he had said they'd be admitting they read the article.
They looked around at Harry as he browsed the shelves for the book he needed on Partial Vanishment, but then Draco started walking towards Harry. He could help feel a twinge of fear as he remembered back when Draco was the head bully this would be a severely bad sign that something terrible was going to happen to him. Instead Draco grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him to behind a bookshelf.
'You really messed up this time Potter,' said Draco in quite a serious voice.
'If you keep up your denial act you'll be fine, the gossipers will find a new topic soon enough,' said Harry while rolling his eyes, but this only seemed to make Draco mad.
'I don't care about that, I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about you!' said Draco, while looking around to see if anyone was watching. 'We both know what my father is, and you already knew he's been keeping an eye out for your guardians. If those you love and care about weren't already in danger, you just made this hunt personal for six of You-Know-Who’s followers. They don't want to hurt you now because You-Know-Who commands it, they want to hurt you because you brought their closely guarded secret to the surface and some readers believe you.'
Harry looked Draco up and down, he had heard Draco give a warning before to Theodore because of their similar experiences growing up, but the old animosity between Harry and Draco had always kept them apart even when they stopped being full enemies at the end of their second year.
'Why are you telling me all this, Malfoy?' Harry asked accusingly.
'Look, you seemed to cheer Daphne up somehow, just call it returning a favour. If you're this ungrateful you won't see me doing this again,' and with that he turned on his heel and walked away.
Further good news relating to the Quibbler and Harry's article continued to come. Luna told him over dinner that no copy of The Quibbler had ever sold out faster.
'Dad’s reprinting!' she told Harry, her eyes popping excitedly. 'He can’t believe it, he says people seem even more interested in this than the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!'
Harry thought the Slytherin common room would be a place free from students talking to him about the article, as Inquisitorial Squad members couldn't admit they'd read it and Dumbledore's Army members had mostly gotten it out of their system already, but younger Slytherins and those that hadn't joined either group bombarded him that night.
‘What did it feel like as you ran from You-Know-Who in the graveyard?’ asked first year Vaisey Daley.
‘Mass murderer Peter Pettigrew is really still alive?’ asked Flora Carrow, her twin Hestia then continued with, ‘And he now has a silvery metal arm?’
‘Are he-who-must-not-be-name’s eyes really bright red?’ asked Simon Dedworth.
Harry tried his best to answer their questions while also avoiding Inquisitorial Squad members as they could have Harry and any student he talked to about his interview expelled. In fact it all started to make his head ache and his scar began prickling uncomfortably again. To a few disappointed moans from the younger students around him who were asking him to relive his interview for the umpteenth time, he announced that he needed an early night.
84 Votes in Poll
*puts on Spectrespecs so I may see all the possibilities*
What if…cHo ChAnG aNd BuCkBeAk RaN tHe WiZaRdInG mAfIa ToGeThEr?!?? ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)
46 Votes in Poll
@GlitterHamster25 Here's the Luna Aesthetic! Again I hope you like it! There was A LOT of Luna stuff to choose from do this is kinda packed. If you want something taken off or added just let me know!
i'm sorry it's been a while since i posted an edit, but i had some hard projects in school and etc.
i hope you like this edit of neville and luna!
*the pictures are not mine, i got them from the internet.
if you see 2 of the same picture, it's because my internet was acting up
I made 4 mini quibbler magazines for no apparent reason.
Do i love it?ofc
Was it a waste of expensive printer ink?maybe....
My absolute favorite character in all fandoms in the world is............
LUNA, she is the best in the world, she is a great fellow Ravenclaw, what is your favorites
