"Come now, Harry, it's just a quick interview," Bagman encouraged. Harry held his ground.
"I don't want to. I'd rather my name and picture not be in the paper at all, but with the tournament, that can't be helped. But if you want an interview, you interview all of us. Not just me."
"Really, lad, I don't know why you're making such a fuss." Bagman was sending nervous looks back at Skeeter, who seemed incredibly unimpressed.
"'E said non, Monsieur Bagman." It was Fleur Delacour, stepping in front of Harry with her arms folded over her chest.
"Harry's underage, you can't interview him without consent of a guardian anyway," Cedric added, standing by Fleur's side. Bagman chuckled awkwardly.
"Really, I think you're all just getting a little worked up," Skeeter said. "Harry, dear, it'll only take a moment, we'll just pop into the other room for some privacy, just a couple of questions." The 'other room' she pointed at was a storage cupboard.
"Vat part of no are you not understanding?" Viktor Krum joined the fray now, staring down his hooked nose at Skeeter, eyes cold.
"I'm not going anywhere alone with you," Harry declared firmly. "And I refuse to be interviewed unless it's all of us. I shouldn't be here, anyway. I'm not a real champion." He squared his shoulders in a way that made the 'Support Cedric Diggory' badge even more obvious.
Skeeter opened her mouth to argue, but the door opened, and Dumbledore walked in followed by the other two heads, Mr Crouch, and Mr Ollivander. Dumbledore surveyed the situation curiously; all three of-age champions stood between Rita Skeeter and Harry, glaring at the blonde woman. "Is there a problem?"
"I was hoping to get a quick interview with Harry here, but it seems the poor dear's being a little shy," Rita cooed, squeezing past Cedric to rest a hand on Harry's shoulder, her talons digging into his robes. He shook her off.
"Please don't touch me," he muttered.
"Well, it's time for the Wand Weighing ceremony, but I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to interview Mr Potter afterwards." Dumbledore's response was cheerful. Harry grimaced.
The five judges took the chairs behind the velvet-covered desks, while the four champions took seats on the other side. Cedric looked down at Harry and grinned. "Nice badge, Potter."
"I thought so," Harry replied with a wink.
Ollivander was introduced, and the Wand Weighing itself was a fairly painless process. The old man's eyes lit up when he saw Harry flick his wand out of its holster, handing it over. Harry mentally begged him not to say anything about the wand's… interesting history. Luckily, all the man did was describe it, looking it over carefully. He took far longer than any of the others. A stab of horror caught Harry unexpectedly — what if there was a curse on his wand, like there had been on his person?
No, surely Dumbledore wouldn't allow the ceremony to go ahead if he knew there was something wrong with Harry's wand, something Ollivander would pick up on. Eventually, the old wandmaker shot a fountain of wine into a conjured glass. "Very good, very good. All four wands are in perfect condition," he announced. "The champions may proceed."
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, getting to his feet. "Thank you all for coming, you are now free to leave." "Not so fast, Dumbledore!" Bagman called, hopping out of his seat. "Ms Skeeter here would like some photos to go with her article!"
Skeeter smirked, beckoning the man with the camera forward. "Just a few," she purred. "And then, perhaps, an interview?"
"What do you think, Rita — all the judges, and the champions?" Bagman suggested. Skeeter's eyes landed on Harry once more.
"And a few individual shots, of course."
"I do not see vhy that is necessary," Krum grouched. "Ve are all champions here." He looked back at Harry, who sent him a grateful glance in reply. If there was anyone who understood how awful it was to be hounded by the press, it was Krum.
Skeeter got them all lined up for group photos, putting Harry right in the middle and insisting it was due to his height. "Take that silly badge off, Harry dear," she fussed, but Harry shook his head.
"No, thank you."
"Really, lad," Bagman chuckled nervously. "I don't think it's really appropriate. These photos are going in the paper!"
"Exactly. I'm showing school solidarity," Harry insisted, keeping his voice earnest. Behind him, Cedric ducked his head to hide a grin. "Harry." Dumbledore's voice was gently scolding. Harry gave him an innocent look.
"Sorry, sir. Is this better?" He pressed the centre of the badge, until the words 'Potter Stinks' were emblazoned across his chest. Skeeter cried out in alarm. Cedric lost his battle against giggles.
"Harry," Dumbledore said again. Harry was sure he was pushing the limits, and about to get himself into trouble, but he refused to let Skeeter walk all over him. The Compulsion charm was supposed to make him reckless, after all.
"You're right, sir; the original is much nicer." Harry returned the badge to its original phrase, facing the camera with a smile. "Are we ready now?"
The adults seemed to realise they'd lost that battle, and with an indignant huff, Skeeter took her photos, Harry keeping the badge on. He dug his heels in again when she tried to take individual photos.
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