Dark Magic

Loneliness

Loneliness is what came with Harry's name being reaped from the Goblet of Fire. Students distanced themselves from the boy who defeated Voldemort twice before. Even Ron had severed ties with my brother, joining a new group of friends; leaving myself, Harry and Hermione to remain. With Harry's isolation, came my own; most of Slytherin house avoiding any form of interaction with me, besides Draco; who had been unconditionally supportive when I needed him most. A week had passed before I plucked up the courage to inform my brother of my want to help, which he accepted without hesitance. Similar to Snape's lessons, I instructed him to meet in the Room of Requirement on a Saturday morning, where his training would commence.

My brother was a quick learner, as I had also observed in most of our lessons. By the end of our first day, he had successfully learned the conjuring charm, 'accio'. His theory work, however, was not quite as up to par; so some extra studying in the library on occasion was necessary.

"Absolutely ridiculous!" Hermione broke my train of thought, my eyes drifting from the pages of my book as a newspaper article was tossed onto the table. Harry had been determinedly scribbling away notes on defence spells for more advanced wizards; he-too-coming to an abrupt halt at his friend's intrusion.

"What's she wrote, now?" Harry enquired. I grimaced, stretching across the table and grasping the Daily Prophet, beginning to read through Rita Skeeter's gossip article.

"I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now....Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it....I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me...."

Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.

Letting out a low huff in feeble attempt to subdue my anger, I passed the newspaper over to him, "Rita Skeeter needs to stop writing these articles. Nothing in them is ever true."

"That doesn't stop people from believing them." Hermione's voice spoke matter-of-factly, her eyes scanning the library as I followed in suit; numerous students with the Prophet in hand were staring at our table. Their eyes were judging and hateful; looks my brother and I were not unfamiliar with in the passing weeks.

Averting my gaze back onto Hermione, I rattled my head for ideas, "Then, we need to make sure she stops writing such false information."

"You mean, kill her?" Harry asked, his eyes joking as a small scoff escaped his lips. His eyes continued to read the article. "No." I chuckled, "But we need to find something we can use against her. To make sure she never writes fake stories again."

"I like your way of thinking, Emerald." Hermione beamed, her golden-brown eyes glimmering with hope at the idea of clearing their names and Rita Skeeter getting her stories straight. Harry's eyes turned back to his book, discouraged and solemn as his thoughts began to seep through my mind. Repelling them as quickly as I could, I placed my hand over his arm, "You know what? I think we could do with a day off. Let's go to Hogsmeade."

***

I hugged my coat tighter to my chest as a sudden gust of wind formed in the snowy village, the three of us wandering the streets as we ventured into Honeydukes; stocking up on various delights to see us through many more weeks of gruelling training and study sessions in the library. Next, Zonko's; where we met Fred and George. The Weasley twins were, surprisingly, still on our side; but couldn't fathom how either of us had managed to surpass Dumbledore's enchantment. Their attempt had ended in disaster, I had come to learn; for they banded together with another Gryffindor to concoct an ageing potion which severely backfired, the trio ended up in the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey tended the after-effects of the brew.