Seventh Horcrux

Harry Potter vs. Love (Pt. 1)

This chapter exemplifies a reoccurring theme in Seventh Horcrux:

People who aren't as sneaky as they think they are but are getting away with it anyway.

Pushing through the late August crowd of students and their families, I made my way into the Leaky Cauldron. With a nod to Tom, I headed upstairs to one of its private rooms.

"Harry!" Ginevra tried to tackle me with a hug, but, thankfully, I got a shield up just in time. I edged around her, greeting Rita Skeeter as I settled into a chair.

The reporter smiled a shark-like grin, and, with a snap of her fingers, her Quick Quotes Quill started scribbling on the sheet beside her. "Good to see you. I was starting to wonder if I ever would. Your stunning, young –"

"Publicist," Ginevra said helpfully.

Skeeter's smile widened. "…publicist has been putting me off for months. So tell me, Harry, just where have you been all summer? The wizarding public is dying to know."

I said, "I've been living in a magically-expanded trunk."

Rita Skeeter gasped, and even her quill paused. "Oh, I wouldn't keep doing that. My coworker's father owned one of those. The charms broke when he was inside, and they had to bury him in it. Two-hundred people attended the funeral, social event of the season. I, of course, reported."

"I found another downside last June," I said.

Skeeter leaned forward eagerly, saying, "Really? Go on, don't keep us in suspense."

"Hermione mailed me to France. At least, I think it was France. Do they speak French anywhere else?"

Skeeter tapped her chin with a sharp, red-painted fingernail. "Well, there's Canada."

"No, that doesn't seem right," I muttered.

"Some parts of Africa, too," Ginevra said.

"That might have been it," I said. "Anyway, I tried to get back to Britain by crossing the nearest body of water, but that just put me in Asia. So, now, I've been to all seven continents…At least, presuming that was Africa, and I've made a lot of friends who I never intend to see again. But the weird part is that I don't feel like I've learned anything."

"Not every adventure has a moral lesson. Just the best ones," Ginevra said.

I shook my head. "No, I mean: I didn't learn anything. I didn't learn the Oriental mystic arts or any new languages. And I still don't know what the Americans do. This trip was completely pointless."

We all spent a moment contemplating that much of our lifetime is taken up by useless and often futile endeavors. At least, that's what I was thinking about. I don't know about Ginevra and Skeeter.

Skeeter broke the silence. "Why exactly do you think that Hermione Granger shipped you abroad? Was it a lover's spat? A shocking and unprovoked attack upon Wizarding Britain's savior? A clear sign of her growing mental instability?"

"That went really well," Ginevra enthused, nearly bouncing in her seat. "I think Skeeter likes you. I didn't even know she could do that!"

I smirked. "Of course. After all, I am a charming, adventurous, brilliant, yet completely normal Hogwarts student. What's not to like?"

She gave me a goofy smile, staring at my face for altogether too long. I said, "You can leave now."

Ginevra jumped a bit, cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "Okay. Dumbledore should be picking you up in twenty minutes."