Bab 201: Hero
Oleandra rose from her seat and hurried after the young Gryffindor boy and Harry, whose face darkened upon seeing the badge on her chest. On their way to the photo op, she found that the boy was quite the chatterbox, though Harry didn't seem to be in the mood to be talking.
"Oh, wow, wow!" the boy said, speaking a thousand words a minute, "to think that two of my favourite heroes would be chosen as champions! It's amazing, isn't it?"
"We're your heroes?" asked Oleandra quizzically. "Do… Do we know each other?"
"My name's Colin!" the boy beamed. "Colin Creevey! The Basilisk petrified me two years ago, and then you two killed the Basilisk, so it's sort of like you saved me! Mind if I get a photo of the two of you together?"
Oleandra vaguely remembered something of the sort. Now that she thought about it, there had been an annoying fly buzzing around Harry back in their second year.
"You're the kid who kept taking pictures," said Oleandra, snapping her fingers in recognition.
"I still do," Colin said sheepishly. "I realized I was being a bit of a bother, so I stopped doing it as much in people's faces…"
Meanwhile, Harry's expression was darkening more and more as he listened to them talk. Someone was in a bad mood, it seemed.
"Is something the matter, Hero?" Oleandra asked Harry, obtaining no response.
"Hero?" repeated Oleandra. "Harry!"
"What d'you want?" grumbled Harry.
"Something wrong?" asked Oleandra.
"Nothing," mumbled Harry.
Oleandra didn't press him any further; if he didn't want to talk, then it's not as if she could force him to pour his heart out. Or at any rate, she tactfully did not want to do so in front of Colin, who idolized him.
The reason for Harry's bad mood was that he felt like two of his friends had abandoned him, and for a person who valued loyalty and friendship above all else, it felt like a betrayal of sorts. Ron, his best friend, was acting distant, because he was envious of Harry, and Colin Creevey saving Harry from Potions class to bring him to a photo op had only aggravated this envy.
And since Oleandra and company had nearly arrived late, they had missed Harry's duel with Draco right before Potions class. During this duel over Draco's rude badges, an accident had occurred, getting Hermione and Goyle Jinxed in the crossfire. Oleandra didn't know it, but if she pressed on the badge Draco had given her, the letters on it would change, and they would then spell out: POTTER STINKS.
When they arrived at their destination, Harry knocked on the door, and the two of them entered a small classroom. Bagman, a photographer and an eccentrically dressed woman, as well as Krum and Delacour, were inside; and from the smoking camera in a corner of the room, pictures had already been taken. Oleandra wondered why Wizards still used this antiquated, single-use Muggle technology. Who still used magnesium flashbulbs in this day and age?
"Ah, there they are!" exclaimed Bagman, who was also in the room. "Our two Hogwarts champions! 'S nothing to worry about, it's just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment—"
"Wand Weighing?" repeated Harry.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," explained Bagman.
"You mean Crouch will also be coming here?" asked Oleandra nervously.
"But of course!" cried Bagman. "I did say the rest of the judges, didn't I?"
As far as Crouch was concerned, her wand had been reduced to ashes along with his tent during the Death Eater attack at the World Cup; no one knew she had secretly retrieved her things before setting his tent on fire in an attempt to cover up the evidence. In retrospect, maybe she should only have removed the illegal items from her pouch and let him return her things after he'd finished with his inspection…
If it came to light that she still possessed her original wand, then people, namely Crouch, would start asking questions…
"Now, the wand expert's still upstairs with Dumbledore," Bagman continued. "And then there's going to be a little photoshoot. And this," he said, gesturing towards the Witch in the weird clothing, "is Rita Skeeter, who's doing a little piece of the Tournament for the Daily Prophet…"
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, ignoring Oleandra completely and observing Harry from head to toe with a hungry expression. "I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start? You know, regarding the rumours… to add a bit of colour?"
"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is, unless Harry objects?"
"Er—" said Harry, barely having the time to respond before the Skeeter woman dragged him out of the classroom by the arm, slamming the door behind them.
'What about me?' grumbled Oleandra internally. 'Don't I get an interview?'
Oleandra studied the other champions to pass the time until the judges arrived and Harry came back. Fleur was posing for the photographer, who was zealous in his job when it came to taking pictures of beautiful women. Every so often, she'd toss her silver hair backwards and flash her pearly whites.
Meanwhile, Viktor Krum was leaning against a wall, trying his best to look cool and composed at all times. But Oleandra was onto him; she knew he just wanted to avoid being seen walking; years of broom riding having turned his feet outwards, making him walk like a duck.
A minute or so after Harry had left, Professor Dumbledore, accompanied by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, entered the classroom. And to Oleandra's slight surprise, the so-called expert turned out to be Mr. Ollivander. Well, it made sense it'd be him; he was Britain's foremost wandmaker, to the point that he almost had a monopoly over his trade. Nobody wanted to use inferior products, after all.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone