Harry Potter : Flash Forward

Harry indicated Stewart and introduced him. "Sirius," he said. "This is Stewart Ackerman, solicitor par excellence. He and his partner, Margaret Pentridge, are the ones who planned it all out to get you free."

Sirius stepped forward and shook Stewart's hand. "Thank you," he gushed.

"Think nothing of it, Mister Black," replied Stewart, smiling. "It's all part of the service Mister Potter, here, has retained us to accomplish." Turning to Harry, he said, "Until next time, Mister Potter." And, with a nod and smile to all, he departed.

Sirius turned to Deece and said, "Madam Greengrass; you have my thanks. The House of Black is in your debt."

"No, Mister Black, it's not," disagreed Deece. "My husband, Matthias, was just the go-between for Harry and Ackerman. Harry, my daughter, and Miss Granger are the heroes, here."

"Stewart... Mister Ackerman and I came up with a cunning plan to use the hearing from a couple of weeks ago to make it public you were innocent. We just enacted that plan," explained Harry. "You've actually been considered exonerated of all charges and deemed free since then. It's just that no one could get in touch with you, what with the owl block wards or whatever."

"I was in the Tahitian Islands," explained Sirius. "The Blacks have a private holiday home, there. I'd forgotten about the mail blocks. They were put in by a previous Head of House to stop mail turning up while he was on holiday. He liked his isolation."

"Well, I have to get these three back to Hogwarts," interrupted Deece. "Besides, we're making a bit of a spectacle of ourselves standing here."

Sirius nodded and looked back at Harry before he said, "I've got something to send you. It's a way for us to better keep in touch. I'll send it as soon as I settle back in London."

Harry and Hermione both knew he was referring to the communication mirror. "Sounds good," said Harry.

"In the meantime, I've got to get to Gringotts to sort out the Black finances," explained Sirius. "Look for my owl."

"Will do," replied Harry, as Deece led them back upstairs to the atrium to Floo back to Hogsmeade.

The plan for facing the dragon in the first task was polished, with Harry practicing the charms and curses he needed for the various plans and alternates, in the Room of Requirement.

Sirius's mirror arrived via owl a couple of days later, as he'd promised.

The three were in Charms when young Colin Creevey came in with a note for Professor Flitwick.

Accepting the note and glancing over at Harry, the diminutive Professor said, "It seems you're needed for the wand-weighing ceremony, Mister Potter. You're excused for the rest of the class."

Harry nodded back and packed up his school work. Young Colin stood by, excited, and almost hopping from foot to foot as Harry packed up. Once ready, Harry gave his girls a quick hug while they whispered words of being careful about Rita Skeeter, and he followed young Mister Creevey to the same abandoned classroom he remembered from the previous time.

When he walked in the three champions were standing together off to one side, quietly chatting. Ludo Bagman was, as expected, sitting with Skeeter on one of the chairs that were set up for a photo shoot. The photographer, Harry couldn't remember his name - Bozo, or something - was standing apart, fiddling with his camera.

"Ah! Mister Potter," gushed Bagman. "Our fourth champion!"

"I'm not a bloody champion, Useless! You know that!" Harry growled back. "I'm an unwilling competitor, only." As he was growling back at Bagman, Skeeter had sidled forward and said, "Mister Potter. It's nice to finally meet you." She grabbed his arm and started to drag him aside. "Perhaps we can..."

That was as far as she got before Harry's hand snapped across and, none gently, ripped Skeeter's fingers off her grip on his arm. "Get your hands off me, woman," he snarled.

"Oh! Errr... of course, Mister Potter," she stuttered. "I was just wondering if I might have a quiet word before we began the... official interviews. I'm sure you understand," she gushed, getting her equilibrium back.

Harry gave a short sharp nod and walked into the corner of the room. Skeeter quickly caught up. Once she'd rejoined him, and before she could begin to even pull out her 'Quik-quotes' quill, Harry quietly but firmly said, "Listen up, Skeeter. I know what sort of shit masquerading as news you write. As you're now no doubt aware, I have retained legal counsel specialising in slander and libel. They'll be very interested in what you want to write as I've given them carte blanche to go for the jugular of any reporter who writes bullshit about me."

Skeeter had frozen in place when Harry began to talk. She was looking a little afraid, but it clearly wasn't enough. Then Harry leaned closer, right into her comfort zone, and growled, "And when they're done with you, I'm going to take great pleasure in crushing you like a little bug. Something like a water beetle, perhaps?" As he spoke, Skeeter went white and looked a little faint. She didn't utter a word.

"If you write the truth about me, Skeeter," he said leaning back again. "No matter how embarrassing it is, you and I won't have a problem. But you write one word of a lie... Well, I believe the Daily Prophet will be looking for a new gossipmonger. Am I clear?"

Skeeter gaped at him like a fish, for a few moments.

Glaring back, Harry growled, "Am... I... Clear... Miss Skeeter?"

The witch quickly nodded back and stuttered, "Y-yes, Mister Potter."

Relaxing his face from its glare, Harry then added the carrot from the stick. He said, "Good. Now, if you prove you can behave yourself, then I'll give you the odd exclusive interview, now and then."

That roused the witch-reporter, whose eyes suddenly gleamed.

Recognising the expression, Harry nodded back and said, "Finally, do you have any questions for me?"

Skeeter quickly reached into her oversized pursed and drew out the Quik-quotes quill.

"Miss Skeeter..." he growled.

Almost jumping in fright, Skeeter quickly jammed the lime green quill back in her bag and withdrew a normal dicta-quill, and set it going. Harry waited for her.

Once she was ready, she hesitantly asked, "Now, Mister Potter. How did you feel the night your name... mysteriously... came out of the Goblet of Fire."

"At first, shock. I, of course, had not entered my name, so it coming out of the Goblet was completely unexpected.

"Next, anger. I had warned Dumbledore that I feared my name would come out of the Goblet. Clearly, he's so full of his own self-importance he thought he knew better than me, a simple fourth year student. He was wrong. A situation in which he is often found.

"Third, fear. I'm a fourth year student in a competition designed with seventh year students, in mind. I simply do not have the education obviously planned for when whatever the tasks are were designed.

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