The Evil child

10. Aria Riddle.

I feel sick. They know. Everyone does. Harry. My god. Surely they won't make us compete. I push myself up and suddenly Dumbledore bursts in and walks to me. "Aria Riddle." Those were the only words he spoke.

I looked down and felt myself tearing up. This is my nightmare. I'm going to be condemned for his evil. "Why make a fake name?" He asked softly. I looked at him and laughed. "He's the worst wizard-the worst monster to live, how could I carry on his name? How could I-how can I expect Harry to ever want to be my friend he knows that I'm-" I stopped and held in my sobs.

I was crying but I can't let myself sob. "Do you know how your name got in the goblet?" He asked. "No. I don't. I know Peter did it somehow. He has a man inside but I don't have proof on who it is." I told him the truth. "Peter? Peter Pettigrew?" He asked. I nodded. "He's able to project himself into the school when he wants. Not for long, but he can see inside." I wasn't holding anything back.

Except for the Mad-Eye suspicion. I have no proof. I'm sure no one, let alone Dumbledore, will believe me if I make such an accusation. He nodded. "Ze-" he stopped himself from using my false name. "Aria, I want you to know that I don't see the evil in you I saw in your father. I still see you the way you have been these past four years." He said.

I looked up and met his eyes. That's all I've ever wanted to hear. I leaned up and hugged him. I sobbed into his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you so much." I whispered.

💀💀💀

I've been told that the rules are absolute, the goblet of fire constitutes a binding magical contract. Everyone who was chosen has no choice but to compete. I'm headed to where everyone else is. Others are in class, but the chosen are being interviewed.

My stomach twisted at the thought of being face to face with Harry. The looks I got. The way my friends looked when I stood. I want to go hide and forget this all ever happened. Erase myself and restart. I sighed and stopped in front of the door to the room they're all in.

I let out a deep breath and walked in. All they're heads turned to me. Cedric, Viktor, Fleur, and Harry. Harry looked away quickly as did the others. As if they were scared. I swallowed and walked in and the doors shut behind me.

"So Riddle huh?" Fleur broke the silence with a judgmental tone and look towards me. I opened my mouth but suddenly a woman appears in a puff of smoke. She's well groomed and dressed colorfully. She's Rita. She's who's interviewing us.

"What a charismatic quartet. Hello!" She said as a photographer moved us all in a group and began taking photos. After a few are taken she walks over to us and shook Viktor's hand then Cedric's, then Fleur's, then Harry's and finally she came to me and smiled but didn't extend her hand.

She knows. I keep forgetting, everyone knows now. "I'm Rita Skeeter, I write for the daily prophet. But of course you know that don't you. It's you we don't know, you're the news. What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? What mysteries do the muscles mask? Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a champion tick. Me, myself and I want to know. Not to mention my rabid readers. So, who's feeling up to sharing?" She finally finished.

No one said anything. "Mmm? Shall we start with the youngest ones." She said eyeing Harry and I. "Lovely." She answered herself. She takes Harry and I by the hand into a closet. "This is cosy." She said after a moment of awkward silence.

"It's a broom-cupboard." Harry said slightly upset. Probably hating being so close to me. "You should feel right at home then." Rita said as she pulled out a quill. "Don't mind if I use the quill do you?" She asked. "No" I said and at the same time Harry said, "Oh, no."

We briefly made eye contact and I quickly looked away. "So Harry, here you sit, a mere boy of twelve-" she started but I cut her off. "He's fourteen." She nodded and kept talking, "About to compete against four students. One being the dark lords daughter who is surely only thinking of finishing what her father started. How do you feel about that?" She asked.

My eyes widened and I felt sick. "Actually-" I started but she raised a hand in my face. "Let the boy answer." She said firmly. "I-I don't think-" Harry started but she nodded. "Of course, the girl used a fake name to insert herself in your life, she befriend you and your friends and somehow got the goblet to name you both so she can finish what her father started without being punished, of course you're feeling betrayed. Now how do you feel about being pinned against the other three that are not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself but have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams? Concerned?" She asked and answered different questions.

I looked at Harry and he didn't look back. "I don't want to hurt Harry." I blurted. They both looked at me. "I used a fake name so people like you wouldn't assume awful things about me because of my name. That's all. I don't have anything to do with what's happened to us and the goblet of fire. I'm still the same kid I was before my real name was revealed." I said quickly and firmly.

Rita nodded. "I'm sure that's the truth Mrs. Riddle." She said simply. I could see she was going to make me the bad guy no matter what. I looked at Harry and he has a blank expression. "Back to the my question." Rita said making Harry look at her. "I dunno I haven't really thought about it." He stumbles out.

My heart dropped. He didn't say anything. "Of course,  you're not just any ordinary boy of twelve." She said ignoring how I corrected her before. "Fourteen." Harry and I both said together. I didn't bother looking at him. He probably does feel betrayed. I should give him and everyone time to understand I'm not my father.

"Do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?" Rita asked with a brief nod. "No I didn't enter." He answered. "We'll only two things could have happened. Either Aria Riddle is lying and put you both in to finish her work or you entered yourself and she did the same for another reason. Which is it? Remember everyone loves a rebel Harry." She said smiling. She turned to the to the quill. "Scratch that last bit" she said and then turned to us.

"Let's keep going, if your parents were alive how do you think they'd feel? proud? Or concerned that your attitude shows at best a pathological need for attention, at worst a psychotic death-wish and how do you think they'd feel towards your past friend who's the dark lords daughter?" She asked.

Harry looked at the notepad, "Hey, my eyes aren't glistening with the ghosts of my past." He said. I also looked and saw what she wrote about me. "And I'm not an evil master mind who takes after-" I stopped myself. "I'm done here. You obviously have your story written already. It's pointless to answer questions you've already answered for us."

I left.