Chapter 626: Lurking
Chapter 626: Lurking
This was an embarrassing moment.
Harry later thought that he should have knocked more slowly, even just a second slower. That way, they could have slipped away or hidden in the Pumpkin Patch until Professor Slughorn left. But before his brain could process the pros and cons, his hand had already pounded heavily on Hagrid's wooden door.
There was a sudden silence inside.
Then they heard Hagrid's rough voice shouting, "Who's out there?" Harry looked behind him, and Ron awkwardly turned his head to stare at a string of dried mushrooms hanging on the cabin wall. Hermione's eyes darted around, and she shuffled her feet on the ground.
There was no choice. Harry steeled himself and said, "It's me, Hagrid. And Ron and Hermione. We came to see you."
Inside, the sound of a cup breaking was followed by an exclamation of "Oh, my!" This told Harry that Professor Slughorn was just as surprised as he was. Hagrid didn't say anything, still angry or perhaps just unsure of what to do.
"Hagrid, we need to talk", Harry called out.
Hagrid finally opened the door, though he was still fuming and didn't look happy. Ron, quick on his feet, mentioned the funeral—Harry wasn't sure if this was the right move, as Hagrid suddenly started crying, both for the poor Aragog (the Acromantula he had raised since he was a spiderling) and because none of the three had chosen his advanced class.
"You ungrateful little brats... I fed you so many rock cakes... Oh, Aragog..."
Hermione tried her best to comfort the tearful Hagrid. Harry and Ron, meanwhile, tried to help Hagrid up, but they were no match for his massive, broad arms. Harry's glasses were askew, and Ron was rolling his eyes.
"Professor, do something", Hermione sternly told Professor Slughorn, who seemed to have been in an awkward position from the start, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. Harry later thought that the richness of Hagrid's vocabulary in scolding them was beyond what he could have come up with alone.
It wasn't hard to guess how much "flattery" Professor Slughorn had provided before they arrived.
Slughorn stood up, a bit at a loss, and waved his wand haphazardly. "Oh, oh, right... Wingardium Leviosa!" He pointed his wand at Hagrid, and the pressure on Harry and Ron eased. They pushed the dazed Hagrid back to bed, collapsing on the ground to catch their breath and rub their aching ribs.
Hagrid blew his nose, opened his watery eyes, and looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a mix of confusion and hurt.
"I know... you might not have time..." Hagrid cleared his throat, his face turning red. "I'll get the rock cakes." Harry and Ron, who had just sat down, immediately jumped up, desperately trying to signal Professor Slughorn. Slughorn fiddled with his handkerchief, cleared his throat, and said, "Hagrid, we should go see Aragog."
"You're right", Hagrid said, dazed, and stood up.
They walked to the back of the cabin, where the Pumpkin Patch was. Fang whimpered, and Harry saw a creature as big as a cart, its black, hard bristles now a soft gray, its eight thick, blade-like legs twisted strangely, and its two terrifying pincers pointing at the sky. It was Aragog, the Acromantula. Harry had forgotten that Professor Hup had cast a spell on this king of Acromantulas, and the sight made him feel a chill.
Hagrid stumbled forward, knelt on the ground, and crushed a pumpkin. Ron had to struggle to keep from laughing, his body shaking with suppressed laughter. Harry understood Ron's reaction; his friend had no love for spiders. So Harry stepped forward, cleared his throat, and was about to say a few words when the pincers suddenly twitched, making Harry jump.
"It's not dead?" Harry couldn't help but exclaim.
"Of course not", Hagrid said hoarsely, giving Harry a glare. "But it's close, just a few days... it's not eating anymore." He couldn't help but tear up again. "Thanks to Professor Slughorn, he said he's seen similar funerals and is willing to help... will you come?"
"Of course", Harry swore.
"Great..."
On their way back from Hagrid's hut to the castle, Professor Slughorn led the way, his large belly swaying as he walked. He turned around a few times, seemingly wanting to say something. When they reached the entrance hall and were about to part ways, Slughorn finally turned to them.
"Ah, children", he fumbled with the last button of his vest, hesitantly saying, "I think I owe you an explanation... I shouldn't speak ill of others behind their backs, but... Hagrid was really upset, and I thought, since you weren't around..."
"Forget about it", Harry said, "We should have visited Hagrid earlier, and I didn't write you a letter either."
Slughorn looked a bit embarrassed and waved his hand.
"That was all in jest... But it's good to clear the air, isn't it?" He became more relaxed and affable, "I'm planning a small party soon, inviting only a few promising students. There's Malfoy, the Greengrass sisters, Mclaggen, Shabbini, Bones, Longbottom, and the charming Merlin da Bobby—though I'm not sure if you know her, her family runs a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I would be delighted if you three could join us."
"Um, I'm not sure if I'll have the time..." Harry racked his brain for an excuse. Maybe scheduling a Quidditch practice on that day would be a good idea; he really didn't want to eat another stomach full of sweets and listen to a night of celebrity stories.
"Don't try to get out of it", Slughorn pretended to frown, "I'm counting on you. If I let the three youngest Order of Merlin recipients slip away, what a laughingstock I'd be!" He played with the tips of his walrus mustache and smiled, "Don't worry, I've also invited Severus. He's taught you for five years, you know. I've read his recent essays; they're very valuable..."
Harry listened expressionlessly, feeling even less inclined to go.
"... And Felix, that sly little fellow, also tried to wriggle out of it, but I told him I'd schedule it around his time, so now he can't refuse..." Slughorn patted Harry's shoulder, speaking earnestly, "I understand; talented people can be proud. But, you know what?" He twiddled his thumbs, "It never hurts to make more excellent friends. Who knows when they might come in handy... So it's settled."
He hummed a little tune as he disappeared down the stairs leading from the entrance hall.
"What do we do?" Harry asked softly, watching Slughorn's shiny, bald head disappear.
Hermione didn't speak, pondering for a moment, "He invited Susan and Neville too?"
"One has a Ministry of Magic aunt, the other is the son of a war hero", Ron counted on his fingers, "It's not hard to understand, is it?" He saw Harry's troubled expression and tried to reassure him, "Just avoid Snape, and it can't be worse than the ghosts' birthday party or the upcoming Acromantula funeral."
They returned to the dormitory and dug out their schoolbags to do homework.
Harry and Ron resigned themselves to Hermione's nagging, borrowing a complete set of reference books (and of course, Hermione's essays) to start their Ancient Runes homework. "Fifteen inches", Ron muttered, several reference books spread out in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth.
He suddenly remembered the 'trick' Luna had mentioned to him that morning and eagerly shared it with Harry and Hermione. Harry was confused, and Hermione frowned, listening intently before sharply pointing out, "This method might only work for her."
"What do you think if I include this idea in my essay?" Ron asked with interest, "It could add a lot of words."
Harry was also intrigued and looked at Hermione, but she remained silent, hiding behind her book.
After a while, she said, "I think Luna was just trying to convey the concepts of 'passion' and 'focus.' If you can't achieve that, you'll have to practice diligently and hone your skills through repetition."
"… That's like not saying anything at all."
...
The next morning, Rita Skeeter, looking triumphant, knocked on the door to the Minister of Magic's office. The two women sized each other up across the desk.
"Please sit, Skeeter", Minister Bones said, adjusting her monocle as she looked up from a stack of thick files.
"Hello, Minister Bones", Rita Skeeter said with a broad smile. Bones scrutinized her, her gaze lingering on Skeeter's wild, curly hair before she coolly said, "Someone recommended you to me, saying you have some influence in the Muggle press."
"Not just 'some,' Minister", Skeeter corrected, her emerald nails diving into her crocodile-skin handbag to pull out a press pass, "I'm a special correspondent for The Sun, and I have a private office there, though I rarely visit it. But", she paused, "that office is reserved just for me."
Minister Bones let out a soft hum, "Given your history of breaking the law, I have reason to be concerned that your actions might adversely affect the Statute of Secrecy."
"Oh", Rita Skeeter was taken aback, her long nails fidgeting with the zipper of her alligator leather bag. She said disdainfully, "There's no evidence to—"
"Yet", Minister Bones corrected her.
"The Ministry of Magic's primary responsibility is to keep all magic hidden from the Muggle world. Now, we have someone who is openly active in Muggle society, surrounded by colleagues with sharp noses for scandal—yes, I've heard of the Sun; you seem to have found your niche."
Skeeter opened her mouth to speak. "Not to mention", Minister Bones continued without giving her a chance to interrupt, "this person has a weak sense of law and a lengthy criminal record. It's just that no one has pursued it further. Otherwise, I believe many would be eager to see her fall from grace."
Skeeter shrank back in her seat.
"Now, tell me, Skeeter", Minister Bones looked at her face with a calm expression, "is someone like that likely to suddenly become law-abiding when they enter Muggle society?"
Rita Skeeter's expression stiffened. She took several deep, trembling breaths and said, "I thought you called me here because—"
"The Ministry of Magic needs something from you?" Minister Bones asked coldly.
"No, of course not", Skeeter forced a placating smile, "I just heard there was an opportunity to earn some extra money. If I can serve the Ministry of Magic", she gritted her teeth, "I don't even need a Galleon."
"The Ministry of Magic doesn't lack for your payment", Minister Bones said, pushing a confidentiality agreement across the table.
Rita Skeeter's face darkened. She pushed her jeweled glasses down her nose and read the terms repeatedly. Her eyes widened behind the glasses. She looked up, meeting Minister Bones' serious, steady gaze, and exclaimed, "You want me to spend a whole year in Muggle society?"
"You can return on weekends", Minister Bones said calmly.
The refusal on the tip of Skeeter's tongue faltered. She bit her nails, thinking for a long time. Then, gritting her teeth, she said, "When the time comes for it to be made public, I want to publish my experience, and you can't use any excuses to stop me."
"I agree", Minister Bones nodded.
So, Skeeter signed her name on the confidentiality agreement. Her expression softened, and it seemed she had already secured a bestseller. She stood up and walked to the door, looking back at Minister Bones.
"I forgot to ask, what exactly do you need from me?"
Minister Bones said sternly, "You don't need to use magic. Your identity is the best channel for information. What you should be most concerned about is how to avoid being discovered as a wizard for the next year."
"Don't worry about that", Skeeter's smile twitched, giving her expression a defiant edge, "Did Mr. Heap sign a confidentiality agreement too?"
"He initiated this and recommended you", Minister Bones raised an eyebrow, "So you can understand that, on one hand, he trusts you, though I don't know where that trust comes from. On the other hand... he doesn't want any mistakes to happen."
Rita Skeeter glared at her angrily and stormed out.
"Don't remind me."
In her office, Minister Bones rubbed her forehead. She could understand why Fudge had been so desperate to distance himself from Dumbledore. As the Minister of Magic, she had to rely on a school professor's reputation to warn Rita Skeeter. A more petty person would have been deeply dissatisfied.
But the truth was, once she stepped outside Britain, her fame might not even match that of 'Felix Hep.'
There was a knock on the door.
Kingsley Shacklebolt entered, handing Minister Bones a file.
"Minister, Carlotta Pinkstone will be released from prison next week", he said gravely.
Minister Bones felt her headache intensify. "That troublemaker?" she said, knowing this woman would be even more difficult to handle than Rita Skeeter. After a moment's thought, she said, "Assign an Auror to keep an eye on her."
"Secretly, or—?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked hesitantly.
"Of course, openly", Minister Bones said through gritted teeth, "Let her know the Ministry's stance, so she doesn't end up back in prison before long."
(End of Chapter)
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