Unique (Hermione x M! OC)

34. Not Your Messenger

After classes, I leave Hermione and head off to find Harry. He was pulled out of class and brought down for a photoshoot and an interview. I step into the room to find a rather ticked Harry stepping out of a broom closet with a woman I've grown to despise. "Ms. Skeeter, aren't you a little old to be playing seven minutes in heaven with a fourteen year old boy? People might say things."

She ignores the joke, "Samuel Hedrich. I know your father."

"I sincerely doubt that judging by your portrayal of him in your failing newsletter." I hiss before seeing her cameraman turn and start aiming at me. "Take a picture of me, I'll sue you for every penny you're worth." He quickly aims the camera back where it was. "Now, Ms. Skeeter, you don't mind if I take Harry, right? His mail is here."

"I would like to interview you about your next book."

"The day I let your vile hands touch my legacy is the day I die, Ms. Skeeter. I am Samuel Hedrich and I have no time for your dishonesty." I turn to the group of kids, "G'day, champions. Don't give her any information she can use against you." Then I clap Harry on the shoulder and we leave up to the mail tower. We enter and Harry stands at a window waiting for Hedwig, until a completely different owl shows up, holding a folded paper. Harry takes it and reads it out loud.

"Harry. I couldn't risk sending Hedwig. Ever since the world cup, the ministry's been intercepting more and more owls and she's too easily recognised. We need to talk, Harry. Face to face. Meet me in the Gryffindor common room at one o'clock this Saturday night and, other than Samuel, make sure you're alone. P.S...."

At this point, I decide to lean against the rail and the little fucking owl bites my finger. "Ah! Son of a biscuit eating whore on a motherfucking Tuesday! Shit!"

"The owl bites."

"Oh does she?!" I shove my bleeding finger into my mouth, wincing at the stinging as Harry laughs at me.

When one o'clock rolls around, me and Harry shut off our movies and sneak into the common room. "Sirius?" Harry asks.

"Shh." I hush before picking up a newspaper, immediately getting amused. "Harry Potter aged twelve, suspect entrant in the Triwizard Tournament. His eyes swimming with the ghosts of his past." I chuckle, crumpling the paper up and tossing it in the fire. "See what I mean?" Harry looks past me into the fire, "What? You wanted me to read more?" I turn around and see Sirius' face in the fire and stumble backwards in shock.

"Sirius. How did you-"

"I don't have much time, Harry, so let me get straight to it. Did you or did you not put your name into the goblet of fire?" Sirius demands.

"No!" Harry spits.

"Shh... I had to ask. Now, tell me about this dream of yours. You mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort, but who was the third man in the room?"

"Wormtail?" I ask.

"Pettigrew." Harry explains quickly before turning back to his godfather, "And I don't know."

"You didn't hear a name?" Sirius probes.

"No. Umm..." Harry racks his brain, "Voldemort was giving him a job to do. Something important."

"What was that?"

"He wanted... me. I dunno why, but he was gonna use this man to get to me. I mean, it was only a dream right?"

"Yes. It's just a dream. Look Harry, the Death Eaters at the world cup, your name rising from that goblet these are not just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe any more."