分卷阅读67（1 / 2）

“Well, the only reason she gets to write the articles on Harry is because she uses her animagus form to snoop around for information. She then has something that no other reporter has, inside information on Harry Potter. But what if we took that away?” Hermione’s eyes glittered with triumph. “What if we gave the Prophet another reporter, closer to Harry Potter than Rita Skeeter could ever be? Someone like those who really know him?”

“People like us!”

“Exactly. And since you’re willing to help, and if we can get Ginny to help too, we can have one reporter for all the major journalism outposts.”

“But will Harry go with it though?” Ron looked skeptical. “I mean, it would kinda be like spying on our own friend.”

“But he’ll get to decide what gets printed. He knows we wouldn’t print anything bad or untrue and he knows that if he wanted something kept secret we could keep it. So why wouldn’t he?”

“Good point. We’ll ask him first before we go through with it though.”

“Of course. But going on the idea that he will. You, Ginny, and I will write to the Prophet, the Quibbler, and Witch Weekly. We’ll offer to write articles about any of the newsworthy actions of Harry Potter. What they won’t know is that we’ll shuffle all the information between the three, so each publication will have some details that the others won’t. Therefore, they’ll see our input as priceless. Other than a stipend for our articles, we’ll demand that in return no other writer can be allowed to write an article exclusively about Harry Potter or those connected to him.”

Ron’s grin was akin to that of the grins normally seen on the faces of his two brothers, Fred and George. “Let’s go ask Ginny if she wants to help.”

All the next day, Draco refused to let himself think about the trial, or Harry, or Harry’s…idea of how to win the trial. The funeral the next day, he reasoned, took precedence. The very fact that he was putting off thinking of what Harry had said did not enter his mind, although on some level he knew he was doing it.

Harry seemed to have realized that Draco did not wish to discuss what he had brought up and kept his distance. But Draco could feel the weight of his stare whenever they were in the same room together, even though he ignored it.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think about anything regarding the trial until his father’s funeral was over.

The day of the funeral dawned bright and sunny, and as warm as the weather can be in the third week of February. Dumbledore himself had given his consent for Harry and Draco to miss both Friday and Saturday, on the condition that they had to come to his office immediately after they arrived back at Hogwarts Sunday night. He presented them with four tickets for the Hogwarts Express, two to go back to London that morning, and two to come back Saturday afternoon. Harry was secretly relieved that Dumbledore did not ask if they’d rather travel by floo powder. He didn’t think either he or Draco would have been able to do that yet.

The idea of a chaperone was not broached by anyone, and Harry thought that there had to be some rule that they were breaking. As the train was pulling away from Hogsmead Harry asked Draco if that was true.

Draco thought for a moment. “That sort of thing is done when students are leaving the Hogwarts grounds and Hogwarts is still responsible for them. So if anything happens then it is the school that is blamed. We are actually leaving the school and going home, like on Christmas vacation, so if we get hurt it’s our fault and not the school’s. That’s why we have to report back on Saturday. We’re not part of the student body at the moment.”

“Oh.”

Draco studied Harry for a moment as the boy across from him looked out the window at the passing scenery. “Why aren’t you wearing your family colors?”

“I don’t know what they are.” Harry replied truthfully. The only color on Harry’s clothes other than black was the dark red cuffs (that Hermione had colored with a spell that morning).

“We’ll have to find that out some time.” Draco spoke thoughtfully, as his own gaze turned to the window.