Apparently not,' Fleur agreed. 'I have all our secrets to keep now, though. There are so many problems we have to solve.'
'I know,' Harry nodded. 'It's daunting. I try not to think about it and just focus on the next small step.'
'What is the next step?'
'Speaking with Rita Skeeter,' Harry replied lightly.
'Skeeter? The one who writes the articles?'
'She's an animagus, and likely an unregistered one. I'd like to persuade her to write something more useful. I sent a letter to her and used it to procure her home address.'
'I am coming,' Fleur decided.
'It's not worth the risk,' Harry disagreed. 'If things go wrong you might get hurt, or worse. You're actions would have huge repercussions for your family.'
Fleur didn't make any sound, but Harry knew she was scowling again. 'Then I will come with you under your cloak and nobody will know.'
'Only until I see Skeeter,' Harry countered.
'Why?'
'Because once she has written the article for me she will no doubt take steps to make sure I can no longer influence her, and once she has I will be making headlines again. I'd rather you weren't sharing those sort of articles with me.'
'Fine,' she acquiesced.
'Nuh uh,' Harry smiled, 'you have to promise.'
'You are worse than Gabby sometimes,' Fleur commented snarkily, 'but if you want, I promise.'
'Thank you,' Harry kissed her gently on the cheek.
'I won't keep promising things like this,' she warned. 'I refuse to hide while you take all the risks.'
'I don't expect you to,' Harry told her. 'I would have to be an idiot to refuse the help of a witch like you.'
'You are an idiot,' she decided. 'You tried to kill a basilisk with a sword.'
'I didn't have my wand,' Harry defended.
Fleur stared at him incredulously, then shook her head, sending ripples through her veil of silver hair. 'Are we going then?'
'Going?'
'You said you continued slowly.
had
Skeeter's
address,'
she
'Now?' 'Do you have something more important to be doing?'
'Well…' Harry eyed her suggestively until she blushed faintly.
'Be careful Harry,' she warned, 'or I might take you up on that later.' She stood up and pulled him to his feet. 'Now where are we going?'
'We'll have to apparate to Diagon Alley in London,' Harry told her, then make our way from there. It isn't far, I remember seeing the street name when I first visited Diagon Alley.'
He reached out for her arm, but she shook her and winked, wrapping her arms around him again.
'Like this is better,' she told him. 'Not when we fall over at the other end it isn't,' Harry grumbled half-heartedly, but he made no move to dislodge her. It was worth the bruises.
Flicking his wand out he swiftly disillusioned them both and apparated them away to the same point outside Ollivander's that he had first travelled to.
'Are you missing anything?' carefully checking himself.
He
murmured,
'Not that I can see,' she replied dryly.
'Follow me then,' Harry instructed, casting a few silencing charms over the pair and walking towards the end of the Alley taking Fleur's hand so he didn't lose her.
From memory Rita Skeeter lived on a street that was only about a mile from the exit of Diagon Alley, a short walk under his Disillusionment Charm.
'She won't be there when we arrive, will she?' Fleur asked, as they weaved in and out of the groups of muggles on the pavement, walking quickly.
'No, we'll have a chance to look around first,' Harry responded, ducking an enthusiastically waving tourist.
'There,' Fleur said, 'where I'm pointing.'
'We're invisible, Fleur,' Harry reminded her, trying not to laugh so hard that the muggles heard.
'Eleven o'clock,' she told him, 'and stop laughing, I forgot.'
Harry pressed his free hand over his mouth to muffle his chuckles, and starting towards Rita Skeeter's street. Her house was number five, so he hoped it would only be a few metres down the road; else they would have to walk to the other end of the street.
The journalist lived in a surprisingly small, modest looking house with a lime green door and a loose step that Harry avoided stepping on just in case it was a security measure.
'Here,' he whispered, unfolding the cloak and passing one end to Fleur. Underneath it they would remain undetected.
'Diffindo,' he muttered, running the tip of his wand along the edge of the door. There was a metal click as he severed the lock.
Rita Skeeter was a tidy individual, her house was neat, clean and well ordered with soft carpets and worn, cosy furniture.
'Have a look for anything that might be useful,' he suggested to Fleur, 'but please stay under the cloak.'
She nodded, and Harry stepped out, dispelling his disillusionment and exploring the lower rooms. He found a lovely set of porcelain china, and some homemade cakes, but nothing that might prove useful.
'Harry,' Fleur hissed from right behind him. He jumped, and glared at where he assumed she must be from the sound of chuckling. 'I found a whole cabinet of files upstairs, come see.'
There was a file for almost every name that Harry knew of in the wizarding world, and a hundred more that he did not.
'Perfect,' he grinned, flicking through Lucius Malfoy's.
'Make her write an article about all the Death Eater's in here,' Fleur suggested.
Harry considered it. Skeeter would probably write the article if he stayed here and forced her to, but she'd never send it to the Prophet. A very different plan to his original one began to form in his head.
The fire place in the room across from them flared green. He'd have to ask Fleur for forgiveness later.
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