Chapter 76: Missing Manuscripts
The office of Barnabas Cuffe, editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, vibrated with barely contained fury. Rita Skeeter stood before his desk, her usual confidence frayed.
"Ten pages, Barnabas! I interviewed them both! The Thorne boy was… infuriatingly quiet, but I had angles! My quill malfunctioned! I had to take notes by hand!"
Cuffe's face was pale with anger. "Handwritten notes which have now, miraculously, vanished. Along with the photographic plate." He leaned forward. "Do you have any idea the position you've put me in? I assured the Minister we would be running a definitive piece today. Get out."
Rita fled, humiliation burning her ears. This was no accident. Someone had stolen from her. Her mind circled back to the tall, silent boy with the watchful eyes. Elian Thorne.
An hour later, a Howler from Cornelius Fudge erupted in the newsroom, his voice roaring with rage over the missing story. Rita wished she could disappear.
At Hogwarts, the absence of the expected smear job was a mystery.
"It's odd," Hermione murmured over lunch, flipping through the latest Prophet. No mention of Harry or Elian.
"Tell me about it," Ron said. "I was braced for it."
Harry nodded. "It's a relief, but… weird." He looked at Elian, who was calmly eating. "You're not curious?"
Elian shrugged. "The Prophet prints what the Ministry wants. If they're silent, the Ministry didn't get what it wanted."
Ron, grinning, slid into the seat opposite Elian. "You don't know the half of it, mate. During the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione gave Harry a good luck hug. Skeeter spun it into a torrid, secret romance! Wrote that Hermione was his 'secret heartthrob'! It was hilarious!"
Hermione's face flushed scarlet. "Ronald Weasley! It was libelous!" A dinner roll smacked Ron's forehead.
"Ow! See? Violent, too!" Ron yelped, still grinning.
Elian looked from Ron to Hermione's furious, crimson face. A slow smile touched his lips. "A secret heartthrob, huh?"
Hermione met his gaze, saw the amusement, and her anger melted into flustered embarrassment. "Don't you start!"
Ron whispered, "I think I've still got that old issue. I'll dig it out for you."
"Ronald, if you show him, I will end you!" Hermione hissed.
Elian chuckled. "I think I'd like to see it."
With a sound of frustration, Hermione jumped up. "You're just as bad!" She swatted at Elian's shoulder. He laughed, pushing his chair back and darting away, Hermione hot on his heels. They weaved through the Great Hall, a burst of levity.
Elian skidded to a halt outside the doors. Hermione, caught by surprise, plowed into his back. "Ow! Elian, you idiot, my nose!" she whined, rubbing it.
They noticed Argus Filch shuffling past, carrying a ladder and a large, framed parchment—a new Educational Decree.
"Another one?" Hermione groaned.
"Probably 'All Laughter is Forbidden,'" Elian muttered. He turned back to Hermione, his expression softening. He gently moved her hand from her nose. "Here, let me see. It's all red."
His touch was light. Hermione froze. The corridor faded. She saw only his clear eyes studying her face, felt the warm brush of his fingers. Her heart thumped.
"I… it's fine," she whispered, her voice small. Her cheeks were on fire.
To hide her embarrassment, she shook her head, hair flying. "Come on," she said, her voice brisk as she stepped back. "We should see what fresh horror Umbridge has dreamed up."
She hurried off, not looking back. Elian watched her go, a faint smile on his lips. He'd seen the deep crimson flush on her ears and neck before she turned away.
Shaking his head with a quiet chuckle, he followed. The mystery of the missing article, the new decree, the shadow of Voldemort—for a moment, all of it was pushed aside by the simple, puzzling sight of a brilliantly flustered Hermione Granger.
(End of Chapter)
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