I'm Coming For You, Draco Malfoy!

Harry Potter vs The Daily Prophet (1999)

Harry's response to the Prophet's various hateful articles was to slap the owner and current editor-in-chief, Barnabas Cuffe, with a Process Server on Christmas Eve. The papers summoned Cuffe before the Wizengamot court to answer charges of historical libel, repeated victimising, a clear hate campaign, and loss of reputation on behalf of a plaintiff, that is, on behalf of himself, one Harry Potter.

I hadn't a clue he was putting the case together and guessed he and Minerva must have been working on it together.

Cuffe didn't take the summons seriously and printed as much on the front page in the Boxing Day edition, scorning Harry, right down to the clothes he wore.

When I saw the article, I sent a Howler to Harry, for not telling me. And then decided I was better off talking to him in person.

I returned to Hogwarts the same day. Apart from anything, I'd had enough of my father who had taken to keeping white budgerigars, in the ballroom. And they kept escaping. There was bird shit everywhere and mother was tearing her hair out. I knew it seemed cowardly to leave her to deal with him but she practically pushed me out the door after breakfast. It appeared my presence aggravated him. At least, I'd arranged for St Mungo's to make another visit and demanded that mother needed help.

Harry greeted me with open arms, hugging me as if we'd been separated for months and not as if I'd just sent him a Howler. The awkwardness of my departure seemed long forgotten.

'Is everything okay?' he asked, searching my face and looking me up and down. I wore his long wool coat, scarf and beanie, he hadn't even questioned that I'd taken them home for the break.

'What the hell do you think you are doing?' I attacked as I turned away and threw my bag down on my bed.

He sat opposite me and raised an eyebrow (the pierced one). Merlin, I'd missed him and it had only been a week.

'I assume you mean with the Prophet.'

'What the fuck else would I mean?'

He smiled, took off his glasses and cleaned them and put them back on. 'Hitting them where it hurts. Plus, it's an opportunity to get them to clean up their act. Kingsley wants this too.'

'Fuck...' I exhaled. 'You're actually mad.'

'No. I told you. I intend to be a bloody pain in the arse. One of the worst culprits for spreading lies, undermining change, and repeated corruption is the Prophet. I'm taking them on.'

'Harry, you're in the middle of taking your N.E.W.T.s. Can't you just focus on that for the moment?'

'There's a Muggle saying, strike while the iron is hot. Their last two articles about us have caused physical and psychological damage to you, and don't you dare deny it. They're promoting hatred. I have fought, to my literal death, to undo this sort of mentality. I made a pretty clear speech about love and forgiveness going forward, which they printed in full. If they're going to continue to play dirty, then I will to. Cuffe doesn't realise what's about to hit him.'

I hadn't seen him that determined since before the battle. 'What have you got on them?'

'Evidence. Names and details of payments to two members of the Wizengamot for insider information and swaying votes. Payments from the Ministry during Fudge's tenure. Same again during Voldemort's control of the Ministry. Plus, every single article and headline they've printed about me from the Triwizard Tournament onwards. Every inaccuracy and defamation is countered with evidence of the truth and not a single apology or retraction from them. The articles from our fifth year are particularly damning because there is no denying that I was right and Voldemort had returned. It's a simple defamation case on that alone.'