Chapter Seventy Two - Witch Weekly

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Seventy Two - Witch Weekly

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The next day was a Hogsmeade day. Harry and Daphne left the castle at noon to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade, both of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them over their shoulders.

They went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy presents for their friends, where they had fun selecting the most lurid socks they could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars. Daphne called him over with the look on her face that told Harry she was up to something wicked.

She then showed him a matching pair of crotchless knickers and a bra with the nipple area uncovered. She whispered in his ear, "Wearing these means I won't have to take them off for you when we - play."

Harry felt his blood suddenly fill places that made it uncomfortable for him to walk, as his breath quickened and his pulse surged a bit. A bit flushed, he nodded back. He hoped she wasn't kidding. He really hoped she wanted to buy them. Merlin, he'd buy them for her, anyway.

With a giggle she rehung them on the rack. Harry's heart sank as he watched them returned. He didn't know Daphne was watching his expressions very carefully and how it amused her, greatly. Coyly, she looked at him before her fingers drifted over the various items. Suddenly, her hand reached in and drew a pair of the same style in Slytherin green with silver filigree. "I think these ones will do," she said, adding them to the small pile of socks they were buying.

Harry's heart soared again. He was so happy, he allowed her to drag him over to the wizardswear section and modelled for her a couple of outfits she'd selected. By the time they returned to the counter, where Harry used his ring to make the purchase, he'd completely forgotten what she'd made him model. He didn't even see the look the sales clerk gave them both. Nor the scathing, threatening look Daphne gave her back.

As they exited the store, Daphne said, "I think we need to have lunch. After that - well - I have an idea..."

With his mind still on the erotic underwear now residing in the package in Daphne's pocket, Harry didn't ask about her idea. It just slid on by.

After a long lunch in the Three Broomsticks, Daphne suggested, "I think we should go and visit our cave. Just to make sure the wood is still there, you know?"

Harry rapidly nodded his head and practically dragged Daphne up the street and into the foothills beyond. He barely heard her giggling behind him at his driven eagerness.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

On Monday morning the group were sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Harry was looking up at the owls as they flew in for their morning delivery. "Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck..."

A gray owl was soaring down toward Hermione.

"I don't recognise the owl," she said, looking disappointed. "It's..."

But to her bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

"How many people want to write to you?" asked Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.

"What on earth...?" Hermione mused aloud, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" she sputtered, going rather red.

"What's up?" asked Ron Weasley, from down the table a little.

"It's - oh, how ridiculous..."

She thrust the letter at Harry, who saw that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.

YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES BETTER. GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM MUGGLE.

"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another.

"Hermione! Stop!" barked Harry, grabbing both her hands in his. His ring was flashing away, as was hers.

Finally noticing what was going on, Hermione gasped and stopped trying to free the owls of their loads. She glanced fearfully at Harry who was glaring back. "You know the protocols! Stop being an idiot!"

Hermione bit her bottom lip with her eyes getting moist before she nodded, ashamed. When Harry finally released her hands, she pulled them back.

Using his ring and his wand casting detection charms, Harry scanned the mail. With a frown he said, "The one you were about to open is loaded with a very strong poison."

"Everybody back!" he called, rising. "Tainted mail!"

Professors Flitwick and Sprout hurried forward.

"Professors, please keep the owls here with the mail still attached to them. We may be able to determine..."

As they all - including nearby Gryffindors - backed away from the table, leaving the owls and mail sitting there, one of the Slytherins laughed.

Harry spun about and stormed over to the table. His magic was at full power with his rage.

"Mister Potter!" barked Headmaster Flitwick, pulling Harry up short. "I'll deal with the miscreant in a moment."

Harry stood there with magic swirling around him. It was enough to cause loose mail on other tables to be caught up in the swirling winds. What he didn't know was Neville had come up beside him. He, too, had his magic moving about him. In Neville's case, it was little displays of lightning, like Headmaster Flitwick had during the issue around Luna. The lightning was cracking and arcing off him and into the floor and the air. If anything, it looked more powerful than Harry.

For both boys, Harry's green eyes were glowing a luminescent green, while Neville's blue eyes were glowing a luminescent blue. Those at the Slytherin table sat perfectly still. No one moved even a twitch at the display of raw power coming off both boys ready to unleash on all of them if they so much as appeared to be threatening.

Harry said in a low growl to the whole Slytherin table, but nevertheless heard by all, "What you fuckwits fail to realise, is that was an unprovoked attack on the Head of a Noble and Ancient House. The person - or persons - who sent it, or anything else harmful, may very well not be alive to see another sunset.

"That person - or persons - may be your mother or father. It is my responsibility, and right as per the old ways, to deal with them. I stand ready - right now - to take their very life. Are you ready to grieve for them?"

None responded.

Hesitating for a few long moments, Harry and Neville continued to glare at the Slytherin table before Harry turned away and allowed his magic to settle. He walked back over to the two Professors as Neville followed.

"Are the aurors on their way?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord," replied Susan in a clear voice. "My message patronus was immediately sent. We expect them momentarily."

"A patronus message was also sent to Lady Hermione's magical guardian; my Lord Greengrass," said Daphne. "I expect him momentarily, also."

Harry nodded and looked to the Headmaster. In a clear voice he said, "Please tell me there's only one person I, or Lord Greengrass, is going to have to see killed today, Professor."

Hesitating a moment, Headmaster Flitwick said in an ominous voice, "There is only one item within that lot that is rigged to cause harm, Lord Potter. It contains undiluted bubotuber pus. It has the same hallmarks as the package sent to Lady Daphne during your first year."

As Harry had almost forcefully requested, all the owls were right where they were. They appeared to be under the effects of a Total Petrification Charm. One was even still holding its leg out waiting for its letter package to be removed.

Headmaster Flitwick then walked over to the Slytherin table and said, "Alright. Who showed the poor judgment by laughing at the attempted serious harm of a student?"

None replied.

"In that case, ten points from Slytherin for each ten seconds I have to wait. That's ten points right now," he said.

None still replied. "That's another ten points from Slytherin. I'm still waiting."

With an embarrassed expression one of the second years, Thaddeus Harper, slowly raised his hand.

"Was it you, Mister Harper?" asked the Headmaster.

"Yes, Professor," the boy quietly replied.

"You think it's funny that someone nearly came to serious harm?" asked the Headmaster. "You think it's funny that, because it was an attempt upon a Head of a Noble and Ancient House, the person who sent that package may very well die within the next couple of hours?"

Clearly ashamed, the boy meekly replied, "No - Professor. I didn't think it would come to that."

"Hmm," Headmaster Flitwick huffed. "A further fifty points against Slytherin for your foolishness. And one week's detention with Mister Filch."

He then returned to near the table with the others.

A couple minutes later, Madam Bones came striding into the room with a couple of aurors. "Where?" she barked.

Nearly everyone pointed to the middle of the Gryffindor table where the Eight had sat.

All three moved to the area and started casting over the owls and mail.

"One," said one of the aurors. He then pointed at one of the barn owls and said, "That one. It has undiluted bubotuber pus and a deactivated minor Expulsion Charm. It would be enough to have the pus spray over the hands of the person who opened the package."

Lord Greengrass came striding into the room and headed straight over. "How many?" he asked, looking at the entire mess.

"Just one harmful one," said Aunt Amelia, reading some of the other mail. "At least, only one that could cause physical harm to a person. It was a bubotuber pus laden message triggered to force out the pus as the letter was opened."

Cygnus snarled and said, "I want the identity of the sender."

"As do I, Lord Greengrass," said Harry.

Cygnus stared at Harry for a moment before he said, "You're Lady Hermione's Protector, Lord Potter; however, I'm her magical guardian. I claim the greater right."

Harry huffed and angrily grumbled, but gave a short, sharp nod in recognition.

When Aunt Amelia, reluctantly, gave the identity of the person who sent the 'pus bomb' - based on the identity of the owl - Cygnus turned to Harry and said, "I'll be back." And strode from the room.

Harry nearly did it - very nearly - he really had to bite his tongue. He was just glad he was still very angry over the attempt at harm on Hermione and the laughter from Slytherin. And used that to ensure he didn't as much as smile. Cygnus - going to terminate someone - using the classic line from the movie 'Terminator'.

Harry, Daphne and Tracey decided to skive off Transfiguration. Daphne, because he father was heading into a duel; Harry and Tracey to support, respectively, their betrothed and best friend. Instead of heading elsewhere, the three elected to remain in the Great Hall. Harry wanted to be there when Cygnus returned - if he returned.

He did; about three quarters of an hour later. He had a tear on his right sleeve on his upper arm and what appeared as burn paste on the skin under it. He came over and sat at the table opposite Harry. Daphne immediately hugged him in relief.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know, surging your magic makes your casting far more powerful, and significantly speeds up your reaction time," he sighed.

"We knew that," said Tracey. "How is Missus Guffy?"

"In Saint Mungos," replied Cygnus. "So, no; I didn't kill her. However, I made sure it was public enough that word will soon rapidly spread that, to target me or mine, will see a swift and brutal retaliation. One of the things I did to her was pour undiluted bubotuber pus over both her hands."

Harry thought about that for a few moments before he firmly nodded and said, "Good. Better some idiot be severely hurt now, than another is killed later."

"My thoughts, exactly," replied Cygnus.

"You know this was all a result of that bloody article Skeeter wrote for Witch Weekly, don't you?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I do," he replied. "I've already let Dewey know what happened - and why - so I expect he's already at the offices of Witch Weekly as we speak.

"The fact you own a significant portion of the magazine, now gives him a huge stick to beat them with."

Harry looked up in surprise. "I do?" he asked.

Cygnus looked stunned for a few moments before he chuckled and replied, "You really didn't know, did you? The Daily Prophet business, of which you've been steadily acquiring shares, owns The Daily Prophet newspaper, Witch Weekly and Teen Witch Weekly."

Harry groaned and started banging his forehead on the tabletop in front of him. Daphne and Tracey started madly laughing.

Cygnus, confused, asked, "What's going on?"

"Harry hates Teen Witch Weekly," giggled Daphne. "He thinks it's an evil publication and should be destroyed, just on principle."

"Well, he owns majority shareholdership in it now," said Cygnus. "If that's what he wants to do, he can."

"No, he really can't," laughed Tracey.

Harry sighed, lifted his head and looked at Cygnus, "If I close it down, the young witches here will hunt me down and roast my nads, for it."

Surprised, Cygnus thought about that for a bit and smiled. "Yeah, I guess they would, at that."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

During the week, Harry wrote an article for 'the evil publication' that, once published, just about had the young witches of magical Britain ready to find out who the owner was and - as he suspected - barbeque his bits off.

Owner Considers Closing TWW Down

Due to the sheer number of false and biased reporting occurring within the offices of the entire Daily Prophet organisation, of which this publication is just one arm, the owner is considering closing TWW down.

"I believe the problem of reporting lies, half-truths and slander as truth is so bad within the entire organisation it may simply be best to shut the who thing down and rebuild it from scratch with entirely new staff," said the owner.

"Quite frankly, I've more than had enough of it. The problem is so widespread across the organisation I fear the only way to save it is to sack the entire staff and bring in new staff from overseas. I want staff who understand terms like honesty, integrity, and professionalism and will check their facts before publishing; and employ them in their work, publishing TWW.

"If the situation is not greatly improved within the next couple of issues there will be no further issues until new staff is brought in to restart publishing. The very first staff to find their jobs getting the chop will be the senior editorial staff and the journalists."

We, the staff, promise the owner we will 'lift our game' and improve your favourite publication, making it better than ever. In line with the wishes of the owner, we are employing specialist staff whose only job will be to fact check each and every article before publication.

I'm sure you, our loyal readers, wish us the best in accomplishing this major and rapid turnabout in editorial policies. And return TWW to a publication you can trust.

It was not as if he actually had shut the publication down, he just threatened it. And he used Teen Witch Weekly as a threat to the Daily Prophet telling them he would be moving on to them next.

'Hormonal witches be crazy!' he thought.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

The next morning, Dewey sent a missive to Harry informing him Skeeter had been sacked on the spot from all Daily Prophet publications; as had the senior editor for allowing a clearly defamatory and false article to be published.

He then used his own authority to elevate the assistant senior editor into the slot as senior editor and warned her that her head was now on the chopping block. One libellous article and she, too, would be gone.

Harry signed the documentation Dewey sent him 'rubber stamping' the lawyer's actions. And included a letter informing the man he had the authority to take other such action in future, if Dewey thought it was warranted. Though he did not include it in the letter, Harry was grateful he had a legal boffin in his corner who wasn't afraid to take such steps when he felt they were necessary.

Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week. And although she followed the group's advice and stopped opening it, several of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at table and began shrieking insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Those lasted only long enough for Harry or one of the others to incinerate them with a Fire Curse.

For each every item they could identify who the sender was, the group wrote them back in Harry's name reminding each and every one of them Hermione was not, in fact, a muggleborn, but was actually the Head of a Noble and Ancient House. Each response was liberally included with unveiled threats of severe harm to both themselves and their houses should they not immediately send a heartfelt and genuine apology.

Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione triangle now. Harry was getting sick of telling people that Hermione wasn't his girlfriend, but his Protectee; and that his betrothal to Daphne was still intact.

"It'll die down, though," he told Hermione, "Magicals seem to have very short attention spans."

"I want to know how she listened into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Hermione angrily.

Hermione hung back in her next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Duncan something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave as the Professor had given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them were nursing small injuries. Neville had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he had to hold his hands clamped over them as he walked away from the class.

"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione panted five minutes later, running in to the Great Hall and plomping herself down at the Gryffindor table with those of the group who had already arrived. "Professor Duncan says Aunt Amelia's monocle is charmed to automatically reveal someone using an invisibility cloak and she would have seen her."

"Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?" said Ron Weasley. The boy had been making every effort to improve his disposition since his stay in the infirmary.

"No!" said Hermione stubbornly. "I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!"

"Maybe she had you bugged," said Harry.

"Bugged?" asked Hannah. "What - put fleas on her or something?"

Harry started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Hannah was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.

"Harry! Hogwarts: A History, remember?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, yeah," replied Harry. "You can't use them in Hogwarts. They'd fry."

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be," said Hermione firmly. "If I could just find out what it is - ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her..."

"Skeeter's gone, Hermione," said Harry. "Do you really want to start a vendetta against her?"

"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped. "I'll do it on my own! And, just because she's no longer employed by the Daily Prophet organisation, does not mean she's not going to get a job working for an overseas publication as their witch-on-the-spot in Magical Britain!"

"She's got a point, you know," said Daphne.

Harry sighed and said, "Yeah, she does." Turning to Hermione, he sheepishly said, "Sorry, Hermione. You're absolutely correct."

Hermione just harrumphed but she signalled she'd accepted the apology.

Leading up to the days before the Easter holidays, Hermione continued with her side project of working out how Skeeter had managed to overhear her conversation. Harry frankly marvelled at how she could research magical methods of eavesdropping, as well as everything else they had to do.

Harry had also been given the day of the wedding as Saturday, 7th of August, and suffered a mild bout of hyperventilation. Daphne then 'ordered' him to start looking for a best man and two groomsmen.

"Why not just a best man?" asked Harry. "After all, Neville's the obvious choice there."

"Because, I have a maid of honour and two bridesmaids," replied Daphne as if talking to a small child. "So, you need a best man and two groomsmen."

"Fine," grumbled Harry. "I'd like Neville as my best man. I think I could also ask Sirius and Remus to be groomsmen."

"That won't work," she said. "Tracey will be my maid of honour. I'm also thinking of asking Hermione and Astoria to be my two bridesmaids. While Neville could easily match Tracey, Uncle Sirius and Remus won't match with the other two girls."

"Fine," he grumbled again. "Then I'll have Sirius as the Master of Ceremonies for the reception, and as Father of the Groom. We'll have to figure something out for Remus, though."

Suddenly thinking, Harry asked, "When's the full moon around then?"

Daphne smirked and replied, "Not for another three days. We already checked."

"Oh," said Harry, a little relieved.

"Don't worry, Harry," she soothed him. "It's been worked out. It needs to be after your birthday so you'll be fifteen. That's only one year before you would come of age in Scotland, so there's less chance of people complaining about you being married too early.

"It also needs to be on a weekend because there are too many people who need to be invited who work business hours. So, that leaves us with the 31st July and 1st August, 7th and 8th of August, 14th and 15th of August, 21st and 22nd of August, and the 28th and 29th of August.

"We want to have at least two weeks of a honeymoon before we have to return for our OWL year, so that scratches off the 21st, 22nd, 28th and 29th of August. The 14th and 15th of August are only a few days after the full moon. So, Remus won't be at his best.

"That leaves us with your birthday, and the 1st, 7th and 8th of August. And we picked the 7th of August because it's far enough away from your birthday not to be confused with it, and because seven is a magical number."

Harry sighed and said, "Logically deduced. I should have realised, myself."

Daphne just smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "You would have. Eventually."

So now Harry had to find two groomsmen of suitable ages the partner Hermione and Astoria. And find a worthy task for Remus.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

When she arrived, it was quickly discovered the new Potions Mistress, Professor Dinwaddy, was another cranky sort. However, she didn't have an overt bias towards Slytherin House. Harry wondered along with his friends whether or not it was something to do with all the potion's fumes that made a Potions Master or Mistress 'crotchety'.

The new Charms Master was just as fun-loving as Headmaster Flitwick - Professor Wilberforce Wiblin. Again, Harry wondered if it had something to do with the constant use of charms that made him that way. In his introduction during the evening meal, on the man's first night at the castle, Headmaster Flitwick said he was a long time friend and colleague.

As the weeks began to flow by, the Eight really knuckled down to their studies. The two new professors were marvels at their work and they heard little complaints from most students about the standard of teaching. The only complaints came from the Slytherins, who were slow to learn that attempts at sabotaging the cauldrons of the Gryffindors very quickly landed them in long detentions and the loss of many house points. And, the Gryffindors, who no longer had a Head of House who was willing to turn a blind eye to their own shenanigans.

Professor Dinwaddy did not believe that a mere five points for bad behaviour in her class was sufficient. 'Potions are dangerous,' she'd said. She preferred to start at twenty points for normal bad behaviour. An attempt at sabotage earned the person an immediate 'T' for the day, a loss of fifty house points, and a minimum of two weeks detention.

Malfoy's 'When my father hears of this...' had him almost bodily picked up and thrown out of the classroom by the scruff of his neck; to go with his fifty points for attempted sabotage, fifty points for his not-so-subtle threat towards a professor, four weeks detention, and 'T' for the day.

"Open your mouth like that again, Mister Malfoy," she snarled at him. "I'll expect your father's second to call on me within the week. And, tell him to have his Will updated. He will not be walking off the piste." Then she slammed the door in his face. It was the last time Malfoy made that claim to her again.

Though Professor Dinwaddy was very strict, she was also a brilliant teacher. Those who had been struggling for the past four years - or even longer - suddenly found a new lease of life in the potions classroom and the quality of potions leapt forward with it. Even those who previously hated the subject suddenly found new enjoyment in the potions laboratory.

March flowed into April and April, passing the Easter break, flowed into May. As the end of May approached the entire extended group were heavily studying. Hermione was urging everyone on but, thankfully, everyone was very comfortable now with her driven nature. They just let her words flow them by.

On the 24th of May, Harry watched as Diggory and the other two champions were led down to the Quidditch pitch. He discretely followed and went up into the tribunes to look down. There, he saw the whole pitch surface had been transfigured into what looked like a large maze.

'Bastards,' he thought. 'They've ruined a perfectly good Quidditch pitch for what will only be a single evening's entertainment.'

With a sigh, he descended to the ground and hurried to catch up to Diggory.

"Can you believe what they've done to the pitch?" he asked the other boy, appalled.

With his own frown of consternation, Diggory replied, "No. They could have put it anywhere on the bloody grounds and they had to choose the pitch, didn't they? It's sacrilege!"

"So, what's the task?" asked Harry.

"It's a maze, obviously," the other boy replied. "The Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. We each enter at a time based on our current score. The first one to reach the Cup, wins it."

"That doesn't sound that difficult," said Harry. "I suspect there'll be further obstacles within to slow you down some."

Diggory nodded and said, "Yeah, that's what I figure."

"Just remember, Ced," said Harry, as the other boy was about to depart. "You only have to get past the obstacles, not defeat them. Sometimes, your best choice is to run away."

Diggory smiled back and said, "That's actually good advice. Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled back and said, "You're most welcome." And gave a slight bow.

The boys parted, with Harry heading for their Room. There were still assignments needing completing, and studying for their end-of-year exams to undertake.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

With spring starting to finally return to Hogwarts, the snow was clearing away leaving the students with the occasional warm day. More and more students were trekking down to the 'desecrated' Quidditch pitch to watch the hedges grow. Some of the more adventurous, especially the Hufflepuffs, seemed to be doing their best to map it all out.

Harry smiled as even he could figure out that the hedges were magical. Neville also deduced that the hedging could move, closing off some passages and opening up new ones.

However, the tribunes, on the warmer days, also made a nice place to study outdoors. The stands were high enough you were off the ground and free of the still seeping cold coming off the large patches of snow still about. And provided protection from the elements from at least one direction; from behind the stand.

"Do you think we'll ever get our Quidditch pitch back?" asked a voice to Harry's right.

Turning, he saw it was Miles Bletchley; an avid Quidditch fan a couple of years above Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry. "The hedge, when finished, will have only been growing for about six or seven weeks. It'll only take them a couple of days to cut it all down, rip up the roots and get the grass growing again."

"This is my last year," said the other boy, quietly. "I had hoped, this year, I'd get a chance to play Quidditch for my House team." He sighed and said, "That's not going to happen now."

"No," Harry replied just as quietly. "And - I'm sorry you never got the chance."

The other boy looked up in surprise for a few moments before he ducked his head down, nodded and moved back to the stairs.

Harry was surprised to actually feel sorry for the older Slytherin boy.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Stupidly, Harry thought, the final task was right in the middle of the exam period. Even then, it was quite late in the year. Harry wondered why they just didn't have the exams at the normal time and left the last week as the final task. As it was, they weren't returning to London until the 3rd of July. That was two weeks later than normal.

However, they were still starting the next year on the 1st of September. That meant they'd be losing two weeks of the summer holidays because some idiot didn't schedule things the right way.

Once they hit revision time Harry forgot that they should have been going home that very weekend. As with the others, he was working hard to remain on, or very near the top, in all his classes. He was also using the training dummies more and more. He felt the strenuous exercise was allowing him to tire out enough each evening to get to sleep. Always, in the back of his mind, he was thinking of the rapidly approaching wedding - his wedding.

When the final week fell upon them the Eight worked diligently and hard. Harry was seriously thinking of blowing off the final task to study with his friends. However, after what happened to Hermione in the second task, the Eight also cast Tracking Charms on each other. They'd go just to support Diggory.

They were just heading down to the tribunes after a hasty dinner to watch the final task, when Hermione noticed a beetle sitting on one of Daphne's hair clips; one of the ones Harry bought her a couple years ago.

Pulling a sheet of parchment out of her ever-present bookbag, Hermione configured it into a jar with a screw on lid. She punctured a few holes through the lid before allowing her wand to return to her holster.

Without even letting Daphne know she was doing it, Hermione reached up with the jar and lid in each hand and snagged the beetle within. As she quickly screwed the lid down tight, and the beetle tried desperately to get out, she grinned at it.

When what she felt, felt like Hermione was playing with her hairclip, Daphne spun around and exclaimed, "Hey!"

With a look of outright glee on her face, Hermione held up the jar and said, "Hey, folks. Say hello to Rita Skeeter in her unregistered animagus form of a water beetle!"

Harry quickly cast an Unbreakable Charm on the jar and lid before looking directly at Hermione. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed a very happy Hermione. "This is how she's been able to listen in on private conversations. She merely rests within their hair or on their clothing. She then memorizes what they say, and writes about that.

"This is how she was able to listen in when Victor invited me to Bulgaria for the summer. This is how she's able to dig up so much trash on people."

With an evil grin, Harry said, "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you've not caught an illegal animagus, you've caught an ordinary water beetle in a magically unbreakable jar. Of course, as it's just an ordinary water beetle, no one's going to say boo if you just decided to crush it between your fingers."

That made the beetle try frantically to get out.

Neville, realising what Harry was saying, chipped in with his own. "I could always take it home and feed it to my toad, Trevor. Trevor loves to munch on beetles."

With a grin of her own, Hermione said, "Nah. I think I'll keep it in this jar until I decide what I'm going to do with it. But, it shouldn't worry too much. I know what water beetles love to eat and I'll be sure to keep it well fed with its favourite diet of mosquito larvae."

The others just laughed as Hermione dropped the jar into her bookbag.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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