His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 41: Harry and Draco are in love

"Didn't think you and Malfoy were close," Moody commented. "Considering."

"We're not," Harry said. "His dad wants him to keep an eye on me."

"And you let him?"

"I mostly like the part where I hex him," Harry admitted.

"Might want to work on that temper, boy," Moody told him. "Could get you into trouble."

"Yeah, I guess."

"It'll give you both practice with CONSTANT VIGILENCE."

And that, apparently, was that.

#

Harry wished that Professor Snape being his tutor meant Professor Snape was less likely to poison him, but the one time he dared to suggest this as a teaching method, Professor Snape asked if Harry was asking permission to be careless, and Harry decided to drop the subject forever.

#

Rita Skeeter's smile widened. Harry counted three gold teeth. She reached again into her crocodile bag and drew out a long acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which she stretched out between them on a crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly.

"Testing...my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."

Harry looked down quickly at the quill. The moment Rita Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the parchment:

Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, whose savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations -
"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, yet again, and she ripped the top piece of parchment off, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she leaned toward Harry and said, "So, Harry...what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Er -" said Harry again, but he was distracted by the quill. Even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake he could make out a fresh sentence:

An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes -
"Ignore the quill, Harry," said Rita Skeeter firmly. Reluctantly Harry looked up at her instead. "Now - why did you decide to enter the tournament, Harry?"

"I didn't," said Harry. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."

Rita Skeeter raised one heavily penciled eyebrow.

"Come now, Harry, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that. Our readers love a rebel."

It was at this point that Harry decided he didn't like her.

"Candy?" he offered, pulling a bag out of one of his extra pockets. He studied them in the dimness - looked like Calming Chocolates. That'd work, even if he'd prefer the raspberry ones for her.

"No, thank you, Harry. About the tournament-"

"Are you sure? They're really very nice. The headmaster always says every situation's better with candy."

The headmaster did not always say this, but Harry kept the bag of chocolates helpfully outstretched until Miss Skeeter took one between two fingers and popped it into her mouth.

She got the interview back on track, so to speak, after that, but her questions were not quite so rushed and Harry felt a little less overwhelmed than he might have. So he offered Dumbledore a chocolate too, which he accepted with a knowing twinkle, and went on to offer them around to everyone at the Wand Weighing.

Harry did not feel guilty at all about the whole thing going smoothly and calmly, everyone mellow as marshmallows in summer. He needed a bit of peace and quiet in his life. Rita Skeeter even moved slowly enough that Harry escaped most of the time with the photographer.

#

One of the secondary headlines about Harry in the paper that had Draco passing it to him wordlessly during Potions read:

RIVALS IN LOVE

The rivalry between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter is well-known both on and off the Quidditch pitch, and it's even been speculated that Mister Malfoy has aspirations towards a certain brunette. He is known to object strongly to Potter's relationship with Hermione Granger.

Harry could think of absolutely nothing to say. Draco's comment, later, when they were hovering in midair over the Hogwarts lawn, was, "You didn't catch it, did you?"

"Catch what."

"Our implied forbidden homosexual love."

Harry's grip slipped on his broom, and he held on wildly with his knees.

"Darn," Draco said mildly, "I was hoping you'd fall off."

"Your sense of humor is vile."

"She said I had feelings for a 'certain brunette,'" Draco explained. "If my father wouldn't have her out of a job within a day, I bet she would have gone further."

"About our forbidden homosexual love," Harry said flatly.

"That's right."

"...shut up and play, Malfoy," Harry said.

He really didn't want to think about it.