Chapter 17: "The Quill's Venom"

Rita Skeeter's attack was far more insidious than a simple magical ambush. She understood psychological warfare far better than most wizards.

"Oh, look at little Heather Potter," Rita's magically amplified voice rang through the Great Hall. "Not quite the typical champion, are we? A bit... round for a magical competitor?"

Heather's mathematical precision shattered. The numbers that always protected her suddenly turned against her, calculating every perceived flaw, every insecurity.

Tears welled up instantly. Not the controlled, analytical response everyone expected, but raw, painful emotion.

"Most champions are athletic," Rita continued, her Quick-Quotes Quill dancing maliciously. "But our dear Heather seems more suited to calculations than competitions. Those pink glasses, that slightly plump figure - one wonders how she'll manage the physical challenges?"

The first tear fell. Then another.

Severus and Regulus watched in horror as their typically composed, mathematically precise girlfriend began to crumble under the public humiliation.

"A Potter, yes. But not the typical Potter," Rita emphasized. "Not slim like her brother. Not the athletic specimen one might expect from such a prestigious magical family."

Heather's sobs became audible. Her carefully constructed emotional walls collapsed completely.

Dorea Potter's eyes turned to pure obsidian. Charlus's Auror training was the only thing keeping him from hexing Rita into another dimension.

Tom Riddle watched with clinical fascination. Emotional vulnerability was far more interesting than mathematical precision.

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, but Severus was faster.

"ENOUGH," he roared.

What happened next was a masterclass in magical retaliation.

Severus struck first - a hex that would make Rita's teeth grow uncontrollably. Regulus followed with a charm that transformed her signature green quill into a writhing, ink-spewing serpent. Lucius completed the magical assault with a silencing spell.

But Heather was beyond comfort.

Regulus gathered her into his arms, while Severus continued his magical assault on Rita. Her mathematical brilliance had abandoned her, leaving only raw, painful emotion.

"Shh," Regulus whispered. "You're perfect. Exactly as you are."

Severus's hex sent Rita sliding across the Great Hall floor, her magical serpent quill still squirming.

Dorea Potter approached, her voice soft. "Some of the most brilliant witches in history weren't stick-thin," she murmured to her daughter. "Look at me."

Heather looked up, tears streaming, her pink glasses askew.

Tom Riddle observed the scene, something almost like emotion flickering in his eyes.

The message was clear: Attacking Heather Potter came with consequences. Emotional and magical.