Chapter 624 Lurking

It is truly an awkward moment.

Harry thought back afterward, if only he had knocked on the door more slowly, if even for just a second slower. Then they could have slipped away quietly, or hidden in the pumpkin field, and waited for Professor Slughorn to leave. But the truth was that before his mind could analyse the pros and cons, his hand had slammed down hard on Hagrid's wooden plank door, without listening to him.

There was a sudden moment of silence in the hut.

Then they heard Hagrid shout gruffly, "Who's out there?" Harry looked behind him, Ron turned his head away unnaturally and stared at a bunch of dried mushrooms drying on the hut's wall, Hermione's eyes dodged as she rubbed her feet on the ground.

With no other choice, Harry finally had to say stiffly, "It's me, Hagrid. Along with Ron and Hermione, we came to see you."

There was a sound of a cup shattering in the room, accompanied by an "Oh, my Merlin!" A shriek. It let Harry know that Professor Slughorn was surprised as much as he was, and Hagrid didn't make a sound, as though he is still angry, or perhaps simply hadn't thought of a response.

"Hagrid, we need to talk," Harry said at the top of his lungs from outside.

Nevertheless, Hagrid opened the door, although he was still exasperated and showed very little affection. Ron perceptively brought up the funeral - Harry wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do, as Hagrid suddenly burst into tears, both for poor Aragog (the Acromantula Hagrid had raised from a young age) and for the fact that none of the three had selected his advanced class.

"Little heartless kids... treated you all with so many rock crust pies... oh, Aragog..."

Hermione tried her best to comfort a crying, teary-eyed Hagrid. Harry and Ron had failed even after they had poured out a lot of effort, they were unable to lift Hagrid up despite their uncomfortable attempts, and were left gasping for air under two thick arms wider than their waists, Harry's glasses tilted to one side and Ron rolled his eyes all over the place.

"Professor, please do something." Hermione said sternly to Slughorn, the professor who seemed to be in some sort of awkward spot from the start, took his handkerchief and wiped the fine sweat from his forehead several times, and afterward, Harry thought that when Hagrid scolded them, the rhetoric was so fleshed out that he alone could not have come up with it.

It was not difficult to surmise how many 'pretty words' Professor Slughorn had provided before they arrived.

Slughorn stood up somewhat uncomfortably and pulled out his wand and gestured haphazardly, "Oh, ah, yes ... Wingardium Leviosa!" He raised his wand and pointed it at Hagrid, the pressure on Harry and Ron eased, and they pushed a somewhat dazed Hagrid back onto the bed. They sat limply on the floor panting heavily and rubbing their sore ribs.

Hagrid blew his nose and opened his wet eyes to stare at Harry, Ron, and Hermione with wide eyes.

"I know ... you probably don't have time ..." Hagrid whimpered twice, blushing a little, "I'll get some rock crust pies. " Harry and Ron, who had just sat down, immediately jumped up and winked desperately at Professor Slughorn, who fiddled with his handkerchief, cleared his throat, and said, "Hagrid, we should better go and see Aragog."

"You're right." Hagrid froze and stood up.

They came to the pumpkin field at the back of the hut and Fang whimpered, where Harry saw from a distance a creature about the size of a wagon, its once tough black fur had turned into a soft grey, its eight sharp-edged thick legs twisted strangely, and its two ghastly claws pointed at the sky, it is none other than Aragog, the eight-eyed giant Acromantula spider. Harry had forgotten that Professor Hap had previously hexed the former king of the Acromantula, and was a little frightened by the sight of it.

Hagrid stumbled forward and fell to his knees, and ended up crushing a pumpkin. It took a lot of effort for Ron to keep from laughing, stifling as his whole body shuddered. Harry understood the thoughts of Ron; his best friend didn't have a good feeling about spiders. So Harry stepped forward on his own, clearing his throat, thinking about saying a few random eulogies or something, only for that large claw to suddenly twitch and startle Harry into nearly jumping out of his skin like a cartoon.

"It's not dead?!" Harry couldn't help but shout.

"Of course it didn't," Hagrid said hoarsely, glaring at Harry and grunting, "but it's going to be soon, in just a few days ... it can't even eat now." He said, fighting back tears of sadness again, "Thanks, thanks to Professor Slughorn, he, he said he had seen a similar funeral and willing, willing to help ... can you guys stop by then?" He asked, looking at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with very clear eyes.

"Sure." Harry promised under his breath.

"Great ..."

As they returned to the castle from Hagrid's hut, Slughorn walked ahead with his big belly, he turned back several times as if he wanted to say something. As they stood in the entrance hall and were about to part, Slughorn finally turned his head.

"Ahem, children," he stammered as he fiddled with the last button of his waistcoat, "I think I owe you an explanation ... I shouldn't have talked bad about people behind their backs, but . . You did break Hagrid's heart, I thought since you're not ... around."

"Forget it," Harry said, "we should have actually visited Hagrid a long time ago, and I really didn't write to you."

Slughorn looked a little embarrassed, and he waved his hand.

"That was all just a joke ... but it's good to clear up misunderstandings, isn't it?" He became amiable as he said wisely, "I've been planning to throw a small party recently, inviting only some promising students, there's Malfoy, the Greengrass sisters, McLaggen, Zabini, Bones, Longbottom, and the charming Melinda Bobbin - I don't know if you know her, her family owns a large chain of apothecaries - and, of course, I very much hope that the three of you will be able to enjoy the company as well."

"Erm, I'm not sure if I have time ..." Harry racked his brain for an excuse, maybe scheduling team practice for that day would be a good option, he didn't want to eat another bellyful of sweets and listen to a whole night of messy famous people stories.

"Don't try to brush it off," Slughorn pretended to be stern, "I'm counting on you, and what ridicule I'll receive if I let the three youngest winners of the Order of Merlin get away!" Then he played with the tips of his walrus moustache and said with a grin, "Don't worry, I've invited Severus, who has been teaching you for five years? I've read the papers he has published in recent years, and they are very valuable ..."

Harry listened with an expressionless face, and he wanted to go even less.

"... and Felix, sly little fellow, he tried to decline just like you all did, but I told him that I will arrange it according to his schedule, now he has no reason to refuse ..." Slughorn said, patting Harry on the shoulder and intoning, "I understand, talented people are rather proud. But, well, how can I put it?" He played with his two thumbs, "It's always a good thing to make more good friends, they may help you one day ... Maybe."

He hummed a little tune and disappeared down the stairs from the entrance hall.

"What shall we do?" Harry asked softly as he stared at the shiny, bald head before it disappeared.

Hermione didn't say anything and pondered for a moment instead, "He also invited Susan and Neville?"

"One has a Minister of Magic for an aunt and another one is the son of war heroes," Ron said as he wiggled his finger, "It's not that hard to understand, is it?" Seeing that Harry's expression was still torn, he advised, "Just avoid Snape when you get there, it can't be any worse than the Spooky ghost birthday party and the upcoming funeral of an Eight-Eyed Giant Spider."

They went back to their dorm rooms and rummaged through their book bags to do their assignments.

Harry and Ron had to resign themselves to Hermione's nagging, borrowing complete reference books from her (and Hermione's essay, of course), and started to write their ancient rune homework. "A whole fifteen inches." Ron whispered, his eyes spinning as he placed several books in front of him at once.

He suddenly thought of the 'trick' Luna had mentioned to him this morning and couldn't wait to share it with Harry and Hermione. Harry listened with confusion, while Hermione listened with a frown and pointed out sharply, "That method might only work for her alone."

"So what do you think about me putting this idea in my essay?" Ron pressed with interest, "It feels like it would make up quite a few words."

Harry's heart pounded too, and he looked over at Hermione, but Hermione sullenly hid behind her book and didn't say anything.

After a long while, she said sullenly, "I think Luna was just trying to convey the idea of 'fondness' and 'concentration', and if you can't do what she did, you'll just have to study hard and work on your practice. "

"... It's as good as not saying anything."

...

The next morning Rita Skeeter knocked on the door of the Minister of Magic's office with a spring in her step, and the two women looked at each other across the table.

"Have a seat, Skeeter." Ms. Bones said, wearing a monocle and looking up from a thick stack of documents.

"Hello, Minister Bones." Rita Skeeter said with a big smile. Bones looked at her critically for a moment before her gaze moved away from the small curls bursting out of Skeeter's head. She spoke coldly, "You were recommended to me by someone, who said you might have some power in the Muggle media."

"Not 'some', Minister." Skeeter said, with bright green fingernails poking into her crocodile handbag and pulling a work pass from it, "I'm a special journalist for The Sun, with a great status, and there's a separate office for me there, even though I only go there once a month, but," she paused, "that office is only reserved for me."

Ms. Bones grunted softly, "Given your past record of violations, I have reason to be concerned that your actions could have a negative impact on the Statute of Secrecy."

"Oh." Rita Skeeter froze, her long nails fiddling with the zip of her crocodile bag as she said lightly, "There is no evidence that-"

"It's just not been discovered yet," Ms. Bones corrected.

"The most important responsibility of the Ministry of Magic is to keep all things magical hidden, and now that there is such a person, out in the open, in Muggle society, surrounded by a group of colleagues who are all snippy and good at catching information - yes, I've heard something about The Sun, you've sort of found your area of expertise ."

Skeeter opened her mouth. "Not to mention," Ms. Bones continued, not giving her a chance to interject, "that this person has little legal sense and more previous records than one can count, which means no one has pursued it, otherwise I'm sure there would be quite a few people who would like to see her go down."

Skeeter's body shrank back.

"Now, you tell me, Skeeter," Ms. Bones asked blandly, staring her straight in the eye, "would such a person suddenly become law-abiding when she entered Muggle society?"

Rita Skeeter's expression stiffened as she took several shaky deep breaths and said, "I thought you asked me to come here today because -"

"The Ministry of Magic needs you?" Ms. Bones asked coldly.

"No, of course not," Skeeter gave a curt smile, "I just heard about an opportunity to earn extra money, but if I could be of any help to the Ministry of Magic," she gritted her teeth, "I will do it without a single galleon. "

"The Ministry of Magic is not short of your remuneration." Ms. Bones said, pushing over a non-disclosure agreement.

Rita Skeeter grimaced, pulling her glasses down and looking down to read the terms on it over and over again. Behind her jewelled glasses, her eyes widened a little. She jerked her head up to meet Ms. Bones' serious, stoic face and blurted out, "You're asking me to spend a whole year in Muggle society?"

"You can come back on weekends." Ms. Bones said calmly.

The words of refusal stopped at the edge of her mouth and Skeeter bit her nails, thinking for half a second before she said through gritted teeth, "When this matter can be made public, I'm going to publish this experience, and you can't use any excuse to stop me."

"I agree." Ms. Bones said with a nod.

So Skeeter signed her name on the non-disclosure agreement, the expression on her face softened; at any rate, she seemed to have pre-ordered a bestseller in advance. She stood up and walked to the door, and looked back at Ms. Bones.

"I forgot to ask, how far do I need to take it?"

Ms. Bones said with a stony face, "There is no need for you to use magic, your identity is the best channel for information. Your main concern should be to keep the wizard identity from being discovered in the coming year."

"Don't worry about it," Skeeter's smile slightly widened, which made her expression look provocative, "Did Mr. Hap sign a non-disclosure agreement too?"

"He started this whole thing, and he recommended you," Ms. Bones raised an eyebrow, "so you can understand that, on the one hand, he trusts you, although I don't know where that trust comes from? On the other hand ... he doesn't want 'anything' to go wrong."

Rita Skeeter gave her an annoyed glare and turned to stride away.

"There's no need to remind me."

In her office, Ms. Bones rubbed her forehead, she sort of understood why Fudge was desperately trying to draw a line with Dumbledore, the fact that she, a Minister of Magic, had to rely on the reputation of a professor at the school to warn Rita Skeeter would have created resentment in anyone else with a smaller heart.

But the truth is, once outside of Britain, her reputation is not necessarily bigger than that of 'Felix Hap'.

There was a knock at the door.

Kingsley Shacklebolt pushed his way in and handed Ms. Bones a document.

"Minister, Carlotta Pinkstone is being released from prison next week." He said in a deep voice.

Ms. Bones felt her head hurt even more, "That troublemaker?" There is no doubt that she is a much more difficult woman to deal with than Rita Skeeter. She thought carefully for a moment and said, "Send an Auror to keep an eye on her."

"A secret surveillance, or-" Kingsley asked hesitantly.

"Of course follow her openly," said Ms. Bones through clenched teeth, "to let her know the attitude of the Ministry and save her from being locked up again when she hasn't even been out for a few days."

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