Infinite Magic (Male Reader x Harry Potter)

The Wand Weighing Ceremony

Colin: It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?  Isn't it, though?  You being champion?

Harry: Yeah, really amazing.  What do they want photos for, Colin?

Colin: The Daily Prophet, I think!

YN: Great.  Exactly what we need.  More publicity.

Colin: Good luck!

I knocked on the door and we entered.  We were in a fairly small classroom.  Most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle.  Three of them, however, had been placed end to end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet.  Six chairs had been set behind the velvet covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking toa witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.  Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody.  Cedric and Fleur were in conversation.  Fleur looked a good deal happier than we had seen her so far.  She kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light.  A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.  Bagman suddenly spotted us, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

Bagman: Ah, here they are!  Champions number four and five!  In you come, Harry, YN, in you come.  Nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment.

Harry: Wand weighing?

Bagman: We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead.  The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore.  And then there's going to be a little photo shoot.  This is Rita Skeeter.

He gestured toward the witch in magenta robes.  Oh god, this bitch...

Bagman: She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet-

Rita: Maybe not that small, Ludo.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face.  She wore jeweled spectacles.  The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

Rita: I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry and YN before we start?  The youngest champions, you know, to add a bit of color?

Bagman: Certainly!  That is, if Harry has no objection?

Harry: Er...

YN: Yeah, no.

Rita: Lovely.

In a second, her scarlet taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm and were about an inch from mine, frozen in midair.

YN: I said no.  If you're gonna write a bunch of bullshit, do it about someone else.

She glared at me a bit, before steering Harry out of the room again and opening a nearby door.  A few minutes later, she came back with Harry, who looked annoyed.  Dumbledore and my mother walked in at the same moment.

Rita: Dumbledore!  How are you?  I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?

Dumbledore: Enchantingly nasty.  I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat.

Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely taken aback.

Rita: I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street-

Ayako: I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear the reasoning behind your rudeness, Skeeter.  But I'm afraid the Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if you're hiding our champions away in a broom cupboard.