The Unexpected Task [H.P.]

Chapter 13 - Hogsmeade

On some level, I knew that the prospect of Harry being able to talk face-to-face with his Godfather was all the hope that he needed to  get him through the next fortnight, the only bright spot on a horizon that had never looked darker. The shock of Harry being school champion had worn off slightly now, and the fear of what was facing him had started to sink in. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; I felt as though it were crouching ahead of us like some horrific monster, barring our paths. The nerves were worse than anything I'd ever felt- worse than walking into Hogwarts for the first time, worse than sending Elliot off to his first Auror mission a year ago. It was mostly the fear of the unknown- not knowing what to expect was killing me.

The day after he'd received the letter, Harry wrote back to Sirius to say he'd be by the common room fire on the 22nd, and he, Hermione and I had spent a long time devising plans to get stragglers out of the Common Room that night if need be. If the worst came to the worst, we planned to drop a bag of Dungbombs, but we hoped they wouldn't have to resort to that — Filch would skin us alive. Slowly. Tastefully.

In the meantime, life became even worse for Harry within the confines of the castle, for a particularly nasty journalist named Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of Harry. The day that Harry was meant to meet Sirius by the fire was also the day of the first trip to Hogsmeade. That morning, we walked into the Great Hall to breakfast, already annoyed by the chatter and stares.

Hermione looked over her copy of The Daily Prophet solemnly, as we picked at our breakfasts. All was fine, until she gasped suddenly. "I can't believe it! That foul, awful woman!" She breathed, angry, diving back into the paper. My eyes widened, and I looked at Harry, who merely shrugged.

Hermione appeared minutes later from behind the paper, rolling her eyes. "You should read this..." She says, but she's not looking at Harry. She's looking at me, a wisp of anger and solemnity in her eyes.

"Me?" I ask, taking the paper from her hands. Harry sits up, interested.

"What's the tournament got to do with Emorie?" He asks, and Hermione shushes him as I begin to read the article. It's long, drawling, and only about Harry and his supposed "trials and tribulations."

"It's near the end, Emorie." Hermione supplies, as I narrow my eyes at the page. I just nod, and scan the paragraphs for what could have made her so angry, before I find it, finally.

Harry has found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey,

says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Emorie Barnes,

a mysterious and stunningly pretty American Transfer student.

Creevey says that Harry fell 'hat over heels' for Ms. Barnes the

moment he laid eyes on her, stating "It was obvious. They're never

apart."

Ms. Barnes, a transfer student from Ilvermorny school in America,

moved to England this year to attend Hogwarts. Her father, a

New Ministry Official in the Office of International Magical

Cooperation is likely very excited about this match, and our sources