Easy - The Girl who Lived Forever (Harry Potter's Sister)

The Third Task

Rita Skeeter is fucking insane.

She did not listen to Kella's warning

HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE:

A boy like no other, perhaps – yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgaria Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl".

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms which have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are of course banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.

"I am going to maim her!" Kella shrieked.

I glared at the paper. "Kella, once the Quadwizard tournament is over, Harry and I will destroy her. I swear it." Kella relaxed slightly at my words.

But the damage was done. Breakfast a couple of days later had Hermione receiving quite a bit of attention. When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something. But to her bewilderment, a grey owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny. We looked over in curiosity.

"How many subscriptions did you take out?" said Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter
first.

"What on earth –?" Hermione said, taking the letter from the grey owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh, really!" she spluttered, going rather red.

"What's up?" said Ron.

"It's – oh, how ridiculous –" She thrust the letter at Harry, and Kella snatched it from his hand, glaring at the parchment. I saw that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.

You are a WickEd giRL. HaRRy PottEr desErves BetteR. gO Back wherE you cAME from mUggle.

"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you ...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog-spawn ...' Ouch!"

She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

"Undiluted Bubotuber pus!" said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.

"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub it off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she was wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.