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'Eh？' said Hagrid； looking startled。 'Wha' injuries？'
'All those！' said Harry； pointing at Hagrid's face。
'Oh： tha's jus' normal bumps an' bruises； Harry；' said Hagrid dismissively； 'I got a rough job。'
He drained his tankard； set it back on the table and got to his feet。
I'll be seein' yeh； Harry： take care now。'
And he lumbered out of the pub looking wretched； and disappeared into the torrential rain。 Harry watched him go； feeling miserable。 Hagrid was unhappy and he was hiding something； but he seemed determined not to accept help。 What was going on？ But before Harry could think about it any further； he heard a voice calling his name。
'Harry！ Harry； over here！'
Hermione was waving at him from the other side of the room。 He got up and made his way towards her through the crowded pub。 He was still a few tables away when he realised that Hermione was not alone。 She was sitting at a table with the unlikeliest pair of drinking mates he could ever have imagined： Luna Lovegood and none other than Rita Skeeter； ex…journalist on the Daily Prophet and one of Hermione's least favourite people in the world。
'You're early！' said Hermione； moving along to give him room to sit down。 'I thought you were with Cho； I wasn't expecting you for another hour at least！'
'Cho？' said Rita at once； twisting round in her seat to stare avidly at Harry。 'A girl？'
She snatched up her crocodile…skin handbag and groped within it。
'It's none of your business if Harry's been with a hundred girls；' Hermione told Rita coolly。 'So you can put that away right now。'
Rita had been on the point of withdrawing an acid…green quill from her bag。 Looking as though she had been forced to swallow Stinksap； she snapped her bag shut again。
'What are you up to？' Harry asked； sitting down and staring from Rita to Luna to Hermione。
'Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me when you arrived；' said Rita； taking a large slurp of her drink。 'I suppose I'm allowed to talk to him； am I？' she shot at Hermione。
'Yes； I suppose you are；' said Hermione coldly。
Unemployment did not suit Rita。 The hair that had once been set in elaborate curls now hung lank and unkempt around her face。 The scarlet paint on her two…inch talons was chipped and there were a couple of false jewels missing from her winged glasses。 She took another great gulp of her drink and said out of the corner of her mouth； 'Pretty girl； is she； Harry？'
'One more word about Harry's love life and the deal's off and that's a promise；' said Hermione irritably。
'What deal？' said Rita； wiping her mouth on the back of her hand。 'You haven't mentioned a deal yet； Miss Prissy； you just told me to turn up。 Oh； one of these days：〃 She took a deep shuddering breath。
'Yes； yes； one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry and me；' said Hermione indifferently。 'Find someone who cares； why don't you？'
They've run plenty of horrible stories about Harry this year without my help；' said Rita； shooting a sideways look at him over the top of her glass and adding in a rough whisper； 'How has that made you feel； Harry？ Betrayed？ Distraught？ Misunderstood？'
'He feels angry； of course；' said Hermione in a hard； clear voice。 'Because he's told the Minister for Magic the truth and the Minister's too much of an idiot to believe him。'
'So you actually stick to it； do you； that He Who Must Not Be Named is back？' said Rita； lowering her glass and subjecting Harry to a piercing stare while her finger strayed longingly to the clasp of the crocodile bag。 'You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You…Know…Who returning and you being the sole witness？'
'I wasn't the sole witness；' snarled Harry。 There were a dozen…odd Death Eaters there as well。 Want their names？'
'I'd love them；' breathed Rita； now fumbling in her bag once more and gazing at him as though he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen。 'A great bold headline： 〃Potter Accuses：〃 A sub…heading； 〃Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among Us〃。 And then； beneath a nice big photograph of you； 〃Disturbed teenage survivor of You…Know…Who's attack； Harry Potter； I5； caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members oj the wizarding munity oj being Death Eaters：〃'
The Quick…Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression on her face died。
'But of course；' she said； lowering the quill and looking daggers at Hermione； 'Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there； would she？'
'As a matter of fact；' said Hermione sweetly； 'that's exactly what Little Miss Perfect does want。'
Rita stared at her。 So did Harry。 Luna； on the other hand； sang 'Weasley is our King' dreamily under her breath and stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick。
'You want me to report what he says about He Who Must Not Be Named？' Rita asked Hermione in a hushed voice。
'Yes； I do；' said Hermione。 The true story。 All the facts。 Exactly as Harry reports them。 He'll give you all the details； he'll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there； he'll tell you what Voldemort looks like now … oh； get a grip on yourself；' she added contemptuously； throwing a napkin across the table； for； at the sound of Voldemort's name； Rita had jumped so badly she had slopped half her glass of Firewhisky down herself。
Rita blotted the front of her grubby raincoat； still staring at Hermione。 Then she said baldly； The Prophet wouldn't print it。 In case you haven't noticed； nobody believes his cock…and…bull story。 Everyone thinks he's delusional。 Now； if you let me write the story from that angle …'
'We don't need another story about how Harry's lost his marbles！' said Hermione angrily。 We've had plenty of those already； thank you！ I want him given the opportunity to tell the truth！'
There's no market for a story like that；' said Rita coldly。
'You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them；' said Hermione irritably。
Rita gave Hermione a long； hard look。 Then； leaning forwards across the table towards her； she said in a businesslike tone； 'All right； Fudge is leaning on the Prophet； but it es to the same thing。 They won't print a story that shows Harry in a good light。 Nobody wants to read it。 It's against the public mood。 This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough。 People just don't want to believe You…Know…Who's back。'
'So the Daily Prophet exists to tell people what they want to hear； does it？' said Hermione scathingly。
Rita sat up straight again； her eyebrows raised； and drained her glass of Firewhisky。
The Prophet exists to sell itself； you silly girl；' she said coldly。
'My dad thinks it's an awful paper；' said Luna； chipping into the conversation unexpectedly。 Sucking on her cocktail onion； she gazed at Rita with her enormous； protuberant； slightly mad eyes。 'He publishes important stories he thinks the public needs to know。 He doesn't care about making money。'
Rita looked disparagingly at Luna。