A camera flashes, and Rita Skeeter steps forward.

Rita: What a charismatic quintuple.

The five champions are posed for her photographer.

Rita: Hello, I'm Rita Skeeter. I write for The Daily Prophet. But, of course, you know that, don't you? It's you we don't know. You're the juicy news.

Rita strokes Fleur's cheek.

Rita: What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks? [suddenly slaps Fleur's cheek] What mysteries do the muscles mask?

Then, she ruffles Cedric's hair.

Rita: Does courage lie beneath those curls? In short, what makes a champion tick? Me, myself, and I want to know, not to mention my rabid readers. So, who's feeling up to sharing? Mmm? [no one is] Shall we start with one of the youngest? [grabs Harry] Lovely.

Rita pulls Harry into a broom cupboard, where they are greeted by a floating notepad with a quill.

Rita: This is cozy.

Harry: It's a broom cupboard.

Rita: You should feel right at home then. [as she and Harry sit down] Don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?

Harry: Oh, um, no.

Rita: [as she talks, the quill writes on the notepad] So tell me, Harry, here you sit, a mere boy of twelve.

Harry: I'm fourteen. Sorry.

Rita: ...about to compete against three students not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself but who've mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams. Concerned? [the quill pauses dramatically]

Harry: Um, I - I don't know. I haven't really... thought about it. [the quill starts scribbling away]

Rita: Just ignore the quill. But then, of course, you're no ordinary boy of twelve, are you?

Harry: Fourteen.

Rita: The story's legend. Do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?

Harry: No, me and my friend didn't enter.

Rita: 'Course you didn't. [winks] Everyone loves a rebel, Harry. [laughs to herself] Scratch that last. [the quill crosses out the last thing it wrote] Speaking of your parents, were they alive, how do you think they'd feel? Proud or concerned that your attitude shows, at best, a pathological need for attention and, at worst, a psychotic death wish?

Harry: [glances at what the quill is writing] Hey, my eyes aren't glistening with the ghosts of my past!

Matthew hears it from the door, as he sighs while rubbing the bridge between his eyes.
Meanwhile, A black owl flies towards the Hogwarts Owlery.

Harry sees the owl flying towards him, holding a paper as he grabs it.

Sirius: [overvoice] Harry, I couldn't risk sending Hedwig. Since the World Cup, the Ministry's been intercepting more and more owls... and she's too easily recognized. We need to talk, Harry, face-to-face. You and Matthew. Meet me in the Gryffindor common room, at 1:00 this Saturday night. And make sure you're alone. Sirius. P.S.:

The owl bit Harry on the finger.

Harry: Ow!

Sirius: [overvoice] The bird bites.

At the Gryffindor common room, Harry enters along with Matthew.

Matthew: Is this where he wants to meet us?

Harry: Yes. Sirius?

They see a newspaper and Matthew picks it up.

Rita: [overvoice] Harry Potter, age 12... suspect entrant in the Triwizard Tournament. His eyes swimming with the ghosts of his past... and choking back tears...

Matthew: At least it didn't mention me.

Harry: It did.

Matthew looks at the paper again.

Rita: [overvoice] Joining is for the first time, the Prime Merlinean, at a young age known as Matthew Stutler. It would either be a blessing or a curse to have a Merlinean in the tournament.

Matthew was annoyed and started to bundle up the paper and throw it into the fire. Then... The fire starts to form a familiar face.

Sirius: Boys.

Matthew: Sirius.

Harry: Sirius. How--?

Sirius: l don't have much time, so let me get straight to it. Did you or did you not put your names into the Goblet of Fire?

Harry and Matthew: No.

Sirius: Shhh... I had to ask. [Look at Harry] Now, tell me about this dream of yours. You mentioned Wormtail, the Morganians, and Voldemort, but who was the third man in the room?

Harry: l don't know.

Sirius: You didn't hear a name?

Harry: No. But... Voldemort was giving him a job to do. It's something important.

Matthew: And that is?

Harry: He wanted me, as well as the Morganians wanting you.

Matthew: [gulps nervously]

Harry: I don't know why, but he was gonna use this man to get to both of us. I mean it was only a dream, right?

Sirius: Yes. It's just a dream. Look, Harry. The Death Eaters at the World Cup, your name rising from that goblet. . . these are not just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore. What are you saying? I'm saying the devils are inside the walls. Igor Karkaroff? He was a Death Eater. And no one, no one stops being a Death Eater. Then there's Barty Crouch. Heart of stone. Sent his own son to Azkaban.

Matthew: You think one of them put our names in the goblet?

Sirus: l haven't a clue who put your name in that goblet but whoever did is no friend to you. People die in this tournament.

Harry: Me and Matthew aren't ready for this, Sirius.

Sirius: You both don't have a choice.

Matthew: We're screwed.

The doorknob starts to turn.

Harry: Someone's coming!

Sirius: Keep your friends close you two.

Matthew: We will.

The door opens, showing Ron as he enters.

Ron: Who were you talking to?

Harry: What? Who says l was talking to Matt?

Ron: l heard voices.

Harry: Maybe you're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time.

Ron: You're probably just practicing for your next interview, l expect.

Matthew: Come on, it's nothing like that.

Matthew: Come on, it's nothing like that.

He ignores him and leaves, Harry and Matthew go to the fire again, but Sirius is gone. The newspaper in the fire has the headline "TEENAGE TRAGEDY!".

The next day, Neville is wading in the lake while Harry and Matthew sit on the shore.

Neville: Amazing. It's amazing.

Matthew: Neville, you're doing it again.

Neville: Right, sorry.

Harry: [eying Neville's book] Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean?

Neville: Moody gave it to me. You know, that day we had tea.

Harry nods. Then... LAUGHTER sounds from the other side of the garden. Harry and Matthew turn and see Ginny and Hermione walking with a rather sullen-looking Ron. Spying each other, Ron, Matthew, and Harry regard one another coolly, then Ron WHISPERS at length to Hermione and exits. Hermione approaches.

Hermione: Ronald would like me to tell you that Seamus told him that Dean was told by Parvati that Hagrid was looking for you.

Harry: Is that right? Well, What?

Matthew: Ok?

Hermione: Uhhh...

She walks back to Ron for more whispering and comes back.

Hermione: Parvati told Dean to tell Ronald... [shaking her head] Don't ask me to repeat it. Hagrid's looking for you both.

Matthew: Well, you can tell Ronald-.

Hermione: I'm NOT an owl!

Hermione turns away and continues with Ginny. Three of them leave. Meanwhile, at night, in the very forest, Hagrid was walking, holding a lantern.

Hagrid: Did you bring your father's cloak, like l asked you?

Harry: Yeah, l brought the cloak. Hagrid, where are we going?

Hagrid: You'll see soon enough. Now pay attention, this is important.

Harry: What's with the flower? Hagrid, have you combed your hair?

Matthew: Since when do you have time to comb your hair?

Hagrid: As a matter of fact I have. You two might like to try the same thing now and again.

As they went further, an odd sound was heard.

Maxine: Hagrid?

Hagrid: [goes forward and realizes] Oh, the clock, put the cloak on.

Harry and Matthew put the Cloak Of Invisibility.

Hagrid: Bonsoir Olympe.

Maxine: Oh, Hagrid. l thought perhaps you weren't coming. l thought perhaps. . . you had forgotten me.

Hagrid: I couldn't forget you, Olympe.

Matthew: This is embarrassing.

Harry gags in agreement.

Maxine: What is it you want to show me? When we spoke earlier, you sounded so exhilarated.

Hagrid: You'll be glad you came, trust me.

Harry and Matthew follow them. They go by the bushes, and the sound of a roar is heard.

Maxine: Magnifique. Can we get closer?

From what she's seeing, shows boxed cages with fire coming out as many guards try to hold them.

Matthew: [to Hagrid] Dragons?! That's the first task?! You're joking!

Hagrid: Come on Matthew, they're just seriously misunderstood creatures.

The box falls to reveal the dragon as it breathes fire.

Hagrid: Oh, crikey! Although, l have to admit... that Horntail is a right nasty piece of work. Poor Ron nearly fainted just seeing him, you know.

Matthew: What? Ron?

Harry: Ron was here?

Hagrid: Oh, sure. His brother Charlie helped to bring him over from Romania. Didn't Ron tell you two that?

Harry: No, he didn't. He didn't tell us a thing.

Matthew: Not at all.

Harry and Matthew gazed back at the dragons.

End of Chapter 33