Daphne's Gift

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Hermione asked out of equal parts concern and curiosity.

Right now, it was the Saturday after the First Task, and this morning, Harry was leading Hermione down to the Black Lake. In his arms, the Golden Egg.

After the First Task, the twins held a massive party in the Gryffindor Common Room in his honour, complete with a giant banner depicting the Potter coat of arms. Between the music, the food, and the drinks, it was the perfect way to end the day after facing a bloody dragon! Here, Harry could eat, drink, and enjoy himself, briefly forgetting he still had two more Tasks to go, each of which would likely be more dangerous than the last.

The Golden Egg was the only thing that came even close to bringing down the mood. Soon after the party started, the Quidditch team hoisted him on their shoulders, as he held the Egg aloft. Everyone had waited expectantly for him to open the Egg, so they could see the clue. Nobody was more shocked than him the clue was an ear-piercing shriek, like nothing he had heard before. Fortunately, Gnarl already knew what it was.

A mermaid's voice, Master. The voice of those overhyped fish faces becomes a horrifying shriek out of water. Open the Egg underwater, and hold your breath. You'll need to be underwater with it to hear the clue.

The party had continued afterwards, with one amusing addition to the night's festivities. A handful of girls from Beauxbatons arrived, having asked for directions from other Hogwarts students. The reason they were here, was to personally thank Harry for protecting them from the Horntail. Said thanks came in the form of a formal expression of gratitude, followed by the girls taking turns throughout the night to give him a big kiss on the cheek. Except for one girl who was rather tipsy after drinking some of the twin's Fire Whiskey. She gave him a full-fledged, minute-long, kiss on the lips, to the cheers and catcalls of the other students, Beauxbatons and Gryffindor.

McGonagall arrived soon after to disperse the party, which suited Harry just fine. Between the kiss, the wink, and the way she swayed her hips as she left, if Harry went any redder in the face, he might explode.

Since then Hermione had been acting weird, alternating between clinging to him and being embarrassed around him. He wasn't sure why though. He hadn't initiated the kiss, and it was doubtful the girl was interested in him. More likely she had done it because of the alcohol or because of a dare from the other girls, maybe even both. Besides, pretty as the girl was, he'd much rather be with a girl he knew to be kind and smart, someone like Herm-

Stop it, stop it. She's your best friend. It doesn't matter how cute she is- stop it, stop it!

Setting his thoughts aside, along with his internal arguments, he turned to Hermione to answer her question.

"Absolutely. It's a mermaid's voice, and the only way to hear it is to hold it underwater. Otherwise, we'll just get more of the screeching."

"But there must be at least a dozen creatures that screech like that. How did you come to the conclusion it was a mermaid specifically?"

"I did a little test to see how it reacts to water. Turns out, when exposed to water the egg glows, and the only screeching creature I could think of, was a mermaid.  Plus, there's supposed to be a colony of them in the Lake."

As they made their way to the same lake, Hermione pondered over the information in her head, before nodding in agreement. It seems she arrived at the same conclusion and remained quiet the rest of the walk. Upon reaching the shores of the Black Lake, Harry removed his robes, revealing the swimming shorts he was wearing underneath. Taking the egg with him, he jumped into the Lake, submerging briefly before resurfacing. When he saw Hermione with a quill and parchment in hand, he took a deep breath and went under again. This time, he opened the egg and listened to a mermaid's song.

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this,

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour-long you'll have to look,

To recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

It took three separate dives to ensure he heard every word properly, and that Hermione had recorded them. By then, they were confident they had recorded everything. But Harry now had to ponder a new problem: How in the bloody hell was he supposed to dive underwater for an hour? But Hermione was reviewing the song, a look of confusion on her face, as Harry pulled himself out of the water.

"You're sure that's everything, Harry?"

"Absolutely. I've got an hour to find an item the merpeople will be given, otherwise I lose it forever."

"It seems weird that this is the clue. It's so obvious, yet so vague at the same time. What could..."

"We'll figure that out later, Hermione. For now, I'm freezing my butt off."

Hermione was jolted out of her confusion as she remembered it was still November, going into December, in Scotland. She whipped out her wand and began casting Warming Charms as Harry cast Drying Charms on himself. Apologizing profusely for her mistake, Harry waved it off. He had figured out the clue, well in advance of the other Champions and now had nearly three months to prepare. Barring the complications of breathing underwater for an hour, not to mention the added challenge of finding something in the Lake itself, he was feeling good about his chances.

On their way to the castle, and the Great Hall, Harry reflected on everything that had happened since the First Task. Not only defeating the Horntail but outright killing it, had made him a subject of fear and awe among the students, something that Gnarl actively encouraged. Even Draco and his cronies, the very same idiots who never missed an opportunity to start a fight, had taken to avoiding him these past few days.

Moreover, there had been a great deal of interest in the spells Harry had used. Almost half of Gryffindor, many students from the other Houses, and even a few international students, had been asking Harry where he had learned those spells. Those questions were usually accompanied by requests that Harry teach them how to perform them. But thus far, Harry had managed to keep his secrets to himself, even from Hermione. To her credit though, rather than pester him for lessons on his spells, she'd visit the library to check out various books, hoping to unravel the secrets to his spells herself.

But today, as they made their way to the Great Hall, Harry noticed something. He'd gotten used to people whispering about him, even staring at him, as a consequence of his scar, and the fame that accompanied it. Usually, he could ignore it, and go about his business as though nothing was amiss. But something was amiss. People were whispering and staring, but they were directed more towards Hermione than him. Brilliant as she was, it was odd for her to become the subject of gossip and rumour.

Hermione noticed it too, which is why, when they arrived in the Great Hall and sat across from Ron, she asked him what people were whispering about. All Ron could do was hand them a copy of the Daily Prophet, and the pair of them stared, in shock at the headlining article.

HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE

The article, one of Rita's, was dedicated to tearing down Hermione, referring to her as a 'plain but ambitious girl,' who was toying with Harry's emotions by carrying on a secret relationship with 'Bulgarian bonbon Viktor Krum'. Admittedly, Harry felt bad for Viktor. Being referred to as a 'bonbon' by that horrid woman would be enough to make him vomit. But the filth that bint was printing made him furious. Even worse, if the whispers and stares were anything to go by, people were believing it.

While Hermione was carrying on as usual, refusing to give her the benefit of her reaction, Harry wasn't feeling so forgiving. On the contrary, he very much wanted payback on that bint for this filth. To that end, after breakfast, he had found an empty classroom and held the amulet close.

"Gnarl, tell me you've got something on Rita."

"One moment, my Lord. Talon is here to make his report and... wait, what? Are you certain? Oh, hahahaha! Oh, Master, I do believe you will enjoy this."

"What is it? What did Talon find?"

"Well, for starters Master, were you aware the minimum sentence for being an unregistered animagus is five years in Azkaban?"

Sitting in the training room, Harry waited for the arrival of his... 'guest.' Right now it is December 2nd, during his Wednesday free period between lunch and dinner. For the past few days, the whispers around Hermione had gotten worse, with even Lavender and Parvati, her own roommates, giving her the cold shoulder. That at the very least was preferable to the quiet glares and snide remarks she was receiving.

But that was nothing compared to the mail.

Sunday and Monday, Hermione had been shocked by the number of owls delivering mail to her. But that shock became disappointment, and even horror when she realized it was all hate mail. The letters varied from cruel remarks to blatant threats of bodily harm to the 'uppity mudblood.' The worst of them all was a letter filled with Bubotuber pus, forcing her to seek help from Madam Pomfrey.

That had been the last straw for McGonagall, and especially Andromeda. McGonagall immediately asked the Hogwarts house elves to intercept any Howlers, or letters containing harmful substances sent to Hermione. The harmful letters would be forwarded to the DMLE, to try and get them involved, while Andromeda was looking into her own avenues of finding the idiots who sent the initial letters.

Harry just hoped she didn't do anything too drastic. Much as he wanted payback himself, he didn't want Andy to risk going to Azkaban. He didn't have many adults actively looking out for him in his life, and he didn't want to risk losing her. But that wasn't stopping him from setting up his own opportunity for payback. Only he'd be going straight for the source of all their problems.

Minutes later, that very same source was popped into the room by Dobby.

"Ah, Harry! Thank you for inviting me to this interview." Rita looked about the room cautiously. "Will Mrs. Tonks be joining us?"

"She should be joining us shortly." He stood from the chair he had been sitting in, grabbing the jug of water set on the table to pour two glasses. Taking a quick swig of his, he motioned for her to sit. "Please, sit. I'll check the halls, she shouldn't be far."

Making his way to the door, he listened intently as Rita sat at the table. Thanks to his meditations, his senses were sharper than he considered possible. Even from the distance between the door, and the middle of the room, where the table had been set up, he could faintly hear the sound of a small bottle being opened.

'All too easy, Rita.'

Opening the door, he made a show of looking out into the halls, knowing Rita was watching him. Making a dissatisfied noise, he stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him. With no time to waste, he called out to Dobby.

"Great Harry Potter calls for Dobby?"

"Dobby, I need you to find Andromeda, Hermione and Ron. Tell them to come to the training room as quickly as possible. There's something very important we need to discuss."

"Does Great Harry Potter not want Dobby to bring them himself?"

"No Dobby. I need a few minutes to finish setting something up. The walk here should be enough time."

Nodding his head, Dobby cheerfully replied, "Dobby will do sir!" before popping away.

Smiling to himself, Harry quickly drew his wand, but carefully hid it as he went back into the classroom. Rita still had her back turned, testing her acid-green quill as it began writing... something. Seizing the opportunity, he discretely grabbed the jar he had hidden next to the door and approached Rita. Before she could turn to speak to him, he cast the first of three spells he had spent the last few days perfecting.

"Revelio animagi!"

With a yelp, the unscrupulous witch turned into an insect, one that Harry couldn't immediately identify. But before Rita could make her escape, he cast the second spell.

"Accio Rita Skeeter!"

A small shape flew from the chair towards him, a shape he could track thanks to his seeker training. With those very same reflexes he had honed over the years, he caught Rita in the jar, screwing the lid tight. As he looked inside, he got a good look at Rita's animagus. It was a water beetle, one that had distinctive round markings around its eyes. Smirking, he looked at the beetle that was somehow giving him the stink-eye.

"Don't bother trying to transform, Rita. This jar is enchanted to be unbreakable, you'll just end up crushing yourself."

Striding over to the table, he set the jar on it, as he grabbed a hidden piece of parchment and quill, and began casting the third of his new spells. The quill began writing on the parchment, and when Harry looked at it, he put on his most malicious-looking grin.

"My my, Rita. Trying to dose me with Veritaserum? Tsk, tsk, tsk. That's a decade in Azkaban alone, never mind the fact you're an unregistered animagus."

Beetle-Skeeter, having been attempting a beetle's version of the stink-eye, now had a look of shock and fear. A look that screamed 'How did you know?' Rather than answer, Harry simply sat down and waited for the others to arrive. He didn't need to wait for long, as soon Andromeda and his friends arrived. Andy looked at the scene in front of her and asked the first thing that came to mind.

"What exactly is going on here?"

Smirking, Harry merely pointed at the jar on the table, and said quite casually "Say hello to Rita Skeeter."

Raising her eyebrow, Andy approached the table to look inside, with Hermione and Ron beside her. The trio briefly inspected the jar, before Hermione spoke.

"She's a water beetle?"

"A water beetle animagus. More specifically, an unregistered animagus." Harry replied, placing great emphasis on the word 'unregistered.'

In response, Hermione's eyes went with realization. Andromeda, instead, simply looked at him with pride. Before either of them could respond, Ron asked, "How bad is that for her?"

"The penalty for being an unregistered animagus is a minimum of five years in Azkaban. Given how many dirty secrets she's likely collected thanks to this, she'd probably get closer to 30 years, if not life." Andromeda answered Ron's question.

"It gets worse. Before you arrived, I checked the glasses of water. She dosed mine with Veritaserum before you arrived." Harry's statement caused Andy's eyes to widen.

"Verita-!? An unwilling dose is 10 years, but dosing a minor!? She'd be lucky to avoid a life sentence!"

"What's Veritaserum?" Hermione's curiosity was piqued by Andy's outburst.

"A truth potion, heavily restricted by the Ministry. Normally it's only to be used in criminal investigations. I don't even want to know how she managed to get hold of some. I imagine either blackmail or the black market." Andy was speaking to Hermione, but glaring down at Rita. The beetle backed slowly against the edge of the jar she was trapped in.

Ron whistled lowly at that revelation. Looking down into the jar, he absent-mindedly asked, "So, what do we do with her?"

"That's what I called you all here for. I figured, Hermione, since you're her most recent target, you might want to have a say in this. Plus, I trust you, Ron, and I figured Andy might have some ideas."

With that, the trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione began bandying ideas back and forth. Ron figured they should just turn her in, while Hermione thought they might try reforming her. Harry wasn't sure that was going to work, given she was unscrupulous enough to try drugging him for an interview. While Ron and Hermione questioned how he knew she was an animagus, and Harry evaded giving a real answer, Andromeda pondered.

Right in front of her, was one of the most famous, or infamous, journalists and writers in all of magical Britain. This woman was a master of spinning fantastical stories from a massive heaping of lies, slander, and baseless speculation, all held together by a single thread of truth. It was a remarkable talent, one that was frankly wasted on an absolute bint as unscrupulous as Rita Skeeter. She had brought down many a rising star, regardless of whether or not they deserved it, all in the name of a quick profit.

And yet, this was a remarkable opportunity. One that she realized as she slowly pieced together a plan. One that would shake the halls of the Wizengamot if need be. All of which would be protected behind the freedoms given to the press, and motivated by pure self-interest. Even if Rita registered herself immediately afterwards, nothing could change the fact she had attempted to drug a minor, and the Boy Who Lived at that. Even the Dark faction of the Wizengamot would be calling for harsh punishment if only to save face when the inevitable outcry came about.

And with that in mind, she resolved to carry out her plan. Turning to Harry, she interrupted him as he was talking with Hermione.

"Harry, be a dear and enjoy the afternoon with your friends. Rita and I will be having a little chat."

Harry briefly considered arguing, until he got a look at Andy's face. Plastered on it, was a smile like nothing he had ever seen. Grinning from ear to ear, it eerily reminded him of the Cheshire Cat. But there was no mischief in this smile, but madness, fueled by a cold and calculated mind. Simply nodding his head, he grabbed the others and made for the door. Once in the hall, he muttered under his breath, "I almost feel bad for Rita."

With Harry gone, that just left Andromeda with the unscrupulous animagus, trapped in a jar. Picking up the jar, she peered directly into the eyes of Rita's beetle form. On her face, she still had the same grin that had unnerved Harry.

"Now then, Rita, you and I are going to have such good fun."

Trapped in her jar, Rita quivered in fear. During her research for dirt on Andromeda, she'd seen pictures of Bellatrix Lestrange. In some of these, the madwoman had an insane, malevolent smile spread across her face. And now, that very same insane smile was staring back at her. But this wasn't a picture or a memory. It was the real thing, mere inches away from her, separated only by the walls of a jar that she had no hope of escaping, except at Andromeda's whim.

In her mind, she prayed to whatever God might be listening, that she would survive whatever the brunette Bella was planning.