Chapter 581: The Unconquered King
Wade took the parchment, but before he could examine it closely, Rita Skeeter leaned in with unmistakable eagerness, her voice bright with interest:
"By the way, do you know who Harry Potter’s closest friends are? Preferably girls… though a good rivalry would work too!"
Wade slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes unreadable, almost eerie.
"What are you planning?"
"I’m temporarily abandoning this interview," she said, tapping her crimson-tipped fingernails against her arm, "but I can’t just light up the front page with photos of the champions! What kind of news is that?"
Her golden curls danced as she gestured dramatically.
"The 'Star of Salvation' angle? That’s what brings massive attention!"
Wade’s expression darkened slightly. He narrowed his eyes.
"Rita, you know Harry’s my friend, right?"
"Is that so? Well, fine. Let’s pretend he is."
She glanced around, lowering her voice with a tone of reluctant compromise:
"Fine, for your sake, I’ll make him a little more lovable... a boy who cries at night, missing his parents, yet still risks everything for Britain’s magical glory—our young Savior, wouldn’t that be perfect?"
She swung her arm, the motion almost hypnotic.
"Think about it—once my article runs, he’ll be every mother’s darling, the hero everyone adores!"
"Not everyone enjoys being under the spotlight, Rita," Wade said firmly.
"To use your feather quill and your journalist’s authority to dig up the scars of a child who’s already made gigantic sacrifices for the world? That’s not just unethical—it’s cruel."
"Ethics? Ethics are chains," she shot back, her eyes sharp and unyielding.
"Listen, Wade—I do appreciate what you did for me. So I’ll make you a deal. You name it—I’ll help you with any intelligence you need. But you can’t interfere with my job."
Her face tensed.
"I’m a journalist. I need explosive news!"
"And the public has a right to know! You know how much people expect to see Harry Potter’s name in the paper? They have a right to learn how their hero grew up—what it was like to be the boy who lived!"
"I’m helping him, do you understand? Wade! A little exposure won’t hurt him! I’ll make him the most beloved figure in the magical world—that will only help his chances!"
Wade raised a hand, cutting through her words like a blade.
"Our names are already on the Champion List. That’s enough. People don’t need your fabrications to wonder if a child cries at night, or if he’s dating some girl, or to hear secondhand gossip from his rivals."
His voice remained calm—but the temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"I know Harry. He doesn’t crave fame. He doesn’t want his privacy invaded. Your approach would only make him uncomfortable."
"And let’s be honest—what’s so good about constant exposure? His every move would be scrutinized, judged, torn apart. Someone would resent him for no reason. Someone would harass him. And someone else would pretend to care, just to manipulate him—exactly like you’re trying to do right now."
"So don’t try to justify your article’s ‘benefits,’ Rita. You know what you’re doing—your words will only ruin lives."
Silence fell. Rita Skeeter pressed her lips together, her face pale. She stared at Wade, her expression flickering with something like hurt.
"This... this is how I live, Wade Gray," she whispered, voice tight.
"Even Dumbledore... he can’t... he can’t..."
Wade’s tone softened slightly.
"Not everyone’s as wise as Professor Dumbledore. If you keep trampling on people’s dignity like this, one day you’ll be rebounded."
He paused, then added, quieter:
"I’m telling you this because I still see you as a friend. I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself over something so foolish."
"Think about it, Rita," Wade said, patting the parchment beside him.
"These details you gave me? That’s proof enough, isn’t it?"
"This world is far more dangerous than you think. You write without conscience, and when trouble comes knocking at your door—you’ll regret it."
The word trouble carried weight.
Rita stared at him. Wade stared back—calm, unwavering. After a moment, she finally looked away.
"Hmph. So noble. You’re just trying to make me back off Harry Potter, aren’t you?"
She took a deep breath.
"Fine. Interview canceled. But I can write about others, right? No problem?"
"Respect the facts," Wade said, exasperated.
"Can’t you just avoid slandering people? Is that really so hard? You’re called The Unconquered King because you can shape public opinion—but twisting the truth will destroy that power, and the honor that comes with it. Isn’t that exactly what you’re risking?"
"Thanks for the concern," Rita sneered, snatching her handbag.
"But I have my own way of doing things."
She strode toward the door, heels clicking sharply.
"I’m off to write my letter now. You and Harry Potter really are friends, aren’t you?"
She paused at the entrance, turning back with a cold smirk.
"But even if I walk away, others won’t. When someone else takes control of the story, then you’ll realize how kind I was."
Boom!
The classroom door slammed shut behind her, a sharp crack of frustration. Only Rita knew how much she was furious—and how much she envied.
She envied the light Wade carried—the way it burned bright when protecting his friends.
She envied Harry, who was shielded without even realizing it.
Friendship? To Rita, it was a luxury so rare it might as well not exist.
She took a deep breath, swallowing the bitterness in her throat—then turned.
Her breath caught.
Dumbledore and Flitwick stood at the entrance, watching her with quiet, composed eyes.
"Oh… Professor Dumbledore," Rita forced a smile, her voice strained.
"Good to see you again… can I… talk to you for a moment?"
"Ah," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, "given how you’ve portrayed me as a stiff old madman before, I’m not sure that’s wise."
He gestured toward the hallway.
"Dinner’s already prepared. Why don’t you go enjoy a bite?"
"O-Of course!" Rita stammered, clutching her bag. "Yes, I’m—just heading there!"
She hurried away, almost running—like she was fleeing.
(End of Chapter)
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