Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page #5

Offer him up as bait?

Potter is a boy, not a piece of meat.

I agree. With Severus.

Alastor, keep an eye on Harry, will you?

I can do that. Don't let him know, though.

He must be anxious enough as it is...

...knowing what lies ahead.

Then again, we all are.

How did you do it?

Never mind. Doesn't matter.

Might've let your best friend know, though.

Let you know what? You know bloody well what.

I didn't ask for this to happen, Ron.

Okay?

You're being stupid. Yeah, that's me.

Ron Weasley, Harry Potter's stupid friend.

I didn't put my name in that cup.

I don't want eternal glory. I just wanna be...

Look, I don't know what happened tonight...

...and I don't know why.

It just did.

Okay?

Piss off.

What a charismatic quartet.

Hello.

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 juicy 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 & l" want to know. Not to mention my rabid readers.

So who's feeling up to sharing?

Shall we start with the youngest? Lovely.

This is cozy.

It's a broom cupboard.

You should feel right at home, then.

Don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?

No.

So tell me, Harry.

Here you sit, a mere boy of 12...

I'm 14. Sorry.

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.

Concerned?

I don't know. I haven't really thought about it.

Just ignore the quill.

Then, of course, you're no ordinary boy of 12, are you?

Fourteen. Your story's legend.

Do you think it was the trauma of your past...

...that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?

No, I didn't enter.

Of course you didn't.

Everyone loves a rebel, Harry.

Scratch that last.

Speaking of your parents, were they 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?

Hey, my eyes aren't "glistening with the ghosts of my past."

Harry, I couldn 't risk sending Hedwig.

Since the World Cup, the Ministry's been intercepting more and more owls...

...and she's too easily recognized.

We need to talk, Harry, face-to-face.

Meet me in the Gryffindor common room, 1:00 this Saturday night.

And make sure you're alone.

Sirius.

P. S:

The bird bites.

Sirius?

Harry Potter, age 12...

...suspect entrant in the Triwizard Tournament.

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