Skill and Seclusion [2] || Harry Potter x OC x Draco Malfoy

120. Petals Wilt

DISCLAIMER

I do not own Harry Potter ... but Rita Skeeter was high key an icon and I won't hear otherwise

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The next day Harry had to do something he wasn't comfortable with one bit.

Interviews.

It quickly became apparent that the entire process would be so much worse than he imagined it to be when both him and the rest of the champions met the women who would be conducting the interviews.

"What a charismatic quartet."

The women with vibrant, short blond curls spoke to the four champions after they had their photo taken.

Fleur was positioned on a seat at the front, with Cedric, Harry, and Krum all stood behind her.

"Hello. I'm Rita Skeeter", the woman continued as she stepped up to shake each of their hands, starting with Cedric.

"I write for the Daily Prophet. But of course you know that, don't you? It's you we don't know."

As she spoke, she flicked her beady eyes between each of the champions through her chained glasses as though they were her prey.

"You're the juicy news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks?" Rita Skeeter said as she stroked Fleur's cheek before rather unnecessarily slapping her slightly.

"What mysterious do the muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls?" she moved on whilst walking behind Cedric and Harry, ruffling the Hufflepuffs hair quite aggressively.

"In short, what makes a champion tick? 'Me, Myself & I' want to know. Not to mention my rabid readers."

At this point, she had a tight grasp on both Cedric and Harry, pulling both very uncomfortable boys closer to her.

"So, who's feeling up to sharing?" she asked.

Silence ensued where not a single one of the students wished to volunteer themselves first.

"Shall we start with the youngest?" Rita Skeeter then proposed before grabbing onto Harry's arm.

"Lovely."

The journalist made her way to the other side of the room, out the door and down the hallway, dragging Harry behind her, until they reached a very small broom closet.

After shoving a bewildered Harry inside, Rita Skeeter pulled the door shut and turned to face him.

"This is cozy", she whispered as the two stood alarmingly close together given the limited space around them.

"Uh ... it's a broom cupboard", Harry replied.

"You should feel right at home, then", Rita Skeeter muttered before shoving Harry further into the cupboard.

There was a small window and two places for them to sit beside it.

"You don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?" Skeeter asked as Harry took a seat.

"Um ... no", Harry answered.

When he glanced back up, there was a floating green quill right next to the woman, accompanied by an orange notebook.

"So tell me, Harry. Here you sit, a mere boy of twelve –"

"I'm fourteen", Harry interrupted.

"About to compete against three students ... not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself, but who have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams", Skeeter continued as though he hadn't spoke, the quill scratching away beside her, taking down each word spoken.