Chapter 10.2- Doom Days

Coming to the Great Hall today seemed to have been a mistake, I decided, as I noticed that the stares on me were shifting in nature. I had entered the hall to smattering of applause but even hat little excitement was beginning to dry up as they read through the paper. The article was everything but charitable. It spoke about how I allowed the hellhound to disable fellow champions Krum and Diggory. There was even a seemingly throwaway line that suggested that Fleur and I had teamed up from the beginning and that it was her magic that made the Hellhound attack Krum first, and then Diggory right after.

They even somehow managed to shoot some praise at Diggory for fucking surrendering and “knowing the time to give up” like the coward had any other fucking choice with that disgrace of a shield charm that he put up. I felt my magic rising to the front again, and this time I just gave up and let out a sigh and stood up. Rita Skeeter had written one hell of a slanderous piece. And the worst part was that as a Lawyer, I could already see how I’d have no case in court. Not in front of a court that was at least slightly biased against me. It would be 50/50 in a completely neutral one, even. She never came out and said anything that was not true. Everything that was not a direct fact, she phrased as a suspicion or supposition. She even offered alternative arguments for some of the less inflammatory suggestions but I doubted those would be swaying anyone.

I shuffled out of the bench and began to make my way out of the room. The Room Of Requirements was calling my name. The question that bothered me as I walked was “Why?”. I teed up a perfect story for them. No risk in it at all. So why do this? Sure, I was a mostly unknown commodity so people could believe whatever they were told by a loud enough voice, but there were those who had wholeheartedly bought into the myth of the Boy Who Lived. They wouldn’t be swayed by this drivel. So why not write something less inflammatory, for the lack of a better word.

The first suspicion was that she was being paid. Potter had cost Lucius Malfoy a house elf and probably wounded his pride by a fair bit. That would be enough to sour him on me forever, even removing whatever ill will he might have held for the whole dead Dark Lord thing. He definitely had the resources to see the Prophet cast me in a negative light. He also had more than enough motive. Of course, he wasn’t the only suspect. There were dozens of wealthy pureblood, both of the death eating and non-death eating variety who would see value in bring the Boy-Who-Lived to disrepute. Fudge himself could even be behind it. His power tussle with Dumbledore couldn’t have just been starting out in Harry’s fifth year, so he was probably already beginning to pull at his leash.