公交车挺进艳妇

Chapter 636: Evan\'s Trap

Hermione gave Ron a don’t-joke-about-things-like-that look.

“Funny, goblins looking for Mr. Crouch. … They’d normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“Percy said that Crouch can speak loads of different languages,” said Harry. “Maybe they need an interpreter.”

“Don’t worry about those nasty goblins,” Ron looked at Hermione. “You’re thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?”

“Goblins don’t need protection,” said Hermione sarcastically, taking another sip of butterbeer. “They’re very clever and quite capable of dealing with wizards. They’re not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves!”

“That’s great!” said Ron, looking strangely at Evan not being involved in their conversation.

He was constantly writing complex magic formulas on parchment to analyze the minimum magic power consumed by Apparition.

Ron leaned forward and wanted to see what Evan was writing.

Just then, Rita Skeeter opened the door and walked in.

She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer.

She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all stared at her, and Evan looked up.

Rita Skeeter was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

“He didn’t seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what’s he doing with a pack of goblins in town anyway? Showing them the sights… what nonsense… he was always a bad liar. Reckon something’s up? Think we should do a bit of digging? ‘Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman …’ Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo … we just need to find a story to fit it …”

“That’s enough; you’re trying to ruin someone else’s life?!” Harry shouted angrily and could not help getting to his feet.

The noise in the bar suddenly stopped, and a few people turned around to find out what was going on with Harry!

Rita Skeeter’s eyes widened behind her jeweled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.

“Harry, Harry Potter!” she said, beaming, “How lovely! Why don’t you come and join…?”

“I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,” said Harry furiously. “Why did you treat Hagrid like that? He didn’t offend you, what did you do that to him for?!”

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows, and a glimmer of pride flickered through her face.

“Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my…”

“You’re lying. Who cares if he’s half-giant?” Harry shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with him!”

When he thought of Hagrid’s sad look, he felt unusually uncomfortable in his heart and shouted with the loudest voice.

This time, the whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeter’s smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once. She snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, “How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?”

“Enough!” Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a grenade. Her body was shaking slightly because of anger, and she seemed to have never seen such a brazen person.

“You horrible woman,” she said, through gritted teeth, “you don’t care, do you, you just want to attract people, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won’t they? Even Ludo Bagman …”

“Sit down, you silly little girl, and don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione, not as friendly as when she looked at Harry. “I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl … not that it needs it…”

She disdainfully looked at Hermione’s bushy hair, and her Quick-Quotes Quill was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

“Well, Hermione, don’t argue with such people. It’s not worth it!” Evan said softly, putting his parchment on the table.

Rita Skeeter stared at Evan, as if she had just seen him, and her eyes fell on the thick parchment. She could clearly see that it was a terrible pattern.

Under the influence of some kind of curse, the soul of a person on the parchment was being pulled away, with a painful expression on his face. Below the image were complex magic symbols and formulas, and then a scene where a person was burned by fire.

Undoubtedly, these things were Dark magic, very evil, terrible black magic!

Even Muggles who had not learned magic could guess what these things were, seeing these patterns.

Evan was trying to persuade Hermione to sit down, and then, as if suddenly aware of something, hurriedly turned back the parchment in hand.

That way, it seemed that he was afraid of being seen, and he glanced at Rita Skeeter uncomfortably.

Seeing Evan’s action, Rita Skeeter seemed to think of something, and smiled again with satisfaction.

“Let’s go, Bozo,” said Rita Skeeter suddenly, laughing at Evan and Harry. “Harry, if you want to talk to me about Hagrid, you’ll always be welcome! … you too, Evan!”

They just left the pub, without even touching the drinks they had bought.

If Evan guessed right, she would probably come back in another form to figure out what was on the parchment he had just exposed.

This was very sensational news that she couldn’t miss!

That was right, those were all the black magic he studied, and it was the trap that Evan had specially prepared for Rita Skeeter.

========================================

Hey there! Translating_Wizard here! I hope you’re doing great and enjoying the chapters. Want to read more chapters? Feel free to join my Patreon where you will find hundreds more!