"Weasley!" Snape suddenly bellowed.
Ron, who had been staring at Dudley's cauldron and swallowing hard, jumped in surprise.
Snape walked up to Ron and took out a pill.
"Eat this."
"Yes, Professor."
Ron knew he had annoyed Snape and couldn't argue with him now. He obediently took the pill and swallowed it whole.
He even smacked his lips afterward. It tasted a bit like bitter almonds and wasn't very pleasant.
As soon as he thought about the word "tasty," his eyes couldn't help but drift back to the cauldron of soup. If only I could have a bowl of that.
Not a lot, just one bowl would be enough.
Saliva kept building up in his mouth.
What should I do? I want to eat it so badly!
He'd ask Dudley to make him a separate bowl later.
"What is it, Professor?"
It was a while before Ron remembered to ask Snape.
"Poison."
Snape said it flatly, a brief and direct statement about the pill.
Ron: "???"
"Since Dursley says he's making an antidote, and he's going to the champions' meeting, you can be his stand-in."
"Aren't you a team?"
Ron tried to stick his fingers down his throat to throw up, but the pill had dissolved as soon as he swallowed it and had already gone down his esophagus.
Snape held out the bowl of soup that Dudley had given him to Ron.
"Of course, if Dursley fails... then we'll have to collect Mr. Weasley's body. Don't worry, we'll put your ashes in a box and bury them in the Hogwarts garden. I think everyone will remember him that way."
Ron's face was green in that moment. He was in a terrible mood. Snape's face, on the other hand, had gone from dark to normal, and his brows had relaxed. He was in a great mood.
You think you're Dudley? Daring to fall asleep in my class.
This was just a small punishment.
Hmph. A Potions Master can't lose face.
---
Dudley and Harry followed the student to a room. Inside, besides the champions Viktor and Fleur, there were a few others. Next to Bagman stood a heavily made-up witch in magenta robes—Rita Skeeter.
The star reporter for the Daily Prophet.
"Champions, please wait here for a moment. Dumbledore is waiting for the other judges for the Wand Weighing ceremony. Before that, you can do an interview with Ms. Skeeter. She's preparing a big story for the Triwizard Tournament," Bagman said.
At this, Fleur asked in confusion, "Wand Weighing?"
"Yes, before the tournament officially begins, we must check that your wands are fully functional and in good working order. They are, after all, your important tools for getting through the challenges."
"All right, everyone, I'm off. Enjoy your chat with Ms. Skeeter."
After giving these simple instructions, Bagman rushed upstairs, looking like he didn't want to spend another minute there.
"I never expected to meet you here, Mr. Dursley."
Rita Skeeter completely ignored the other champions. Her eyes were fixed on Dudley, her expression a mix of a smile and a sneer.
She had been trying to get an exclusive interview with him for a long time, but Dudley had always refused without a second thought.
The reason? Dudley just didn't like the Daily Prophet. It was that simple.
His conflict with the Daily Prophet went all the way back to when he first submitted his writing. The Daily Prophet's publishing house had flat-out rejected Dudley's submission and belittled his work, saying it was worthless.
"Can I speak with you alone? We can do an exclusive interview in the small room over there. Of course, I also want to do an exclusive interview with the legendary Mr. Potter," Rita Skeeter said, pointing to the small room next to them. She tried to smile and her tone was as polite as possible, but the thick layer of makeup on her face made her smile look very strange.
"That's not necessary. What can't be said in public? Right here is fine," Dudley said flatly, without any intention of getting up. "Besides, I don't need any interviews, thank you."
Seeing Dudley so uncooperative, Rita Skeeter wanted to forcibly drag him away, but the thought of the huge size difference between them stopped her.
"Well... all right."
Rita Skeeter said, sounding very unwilling. She took out a Quick-Quotes Quill and a notepad and began the interview.
"Ms. Skeeter," Dudley suddenly said after they had been talking for a few moments. "I don't want to see things in tomorrow's Daily Prophet that I didn't say, or any groundless speculation about me in any form or manner. Can you do that?"
Rita Skeeter nodded without even thinking. "The Daily Prophet has always been truthful."
"Really?" Dudley asked. "Are you sure?"
"Of course."
Suddenly, Dudley stood up and, before she could react, snatched the Quick-Quotes Quill and the parchment from her. "Then what is your quill writing?"
"I haven't said anything yet, so why do you have five pages of notes?"
With just one look, Dudley's expression immediately darkened.
'The Deformed Love Triangle of Dursley, Potter, and Granger' and 'The Boy Who Lived, Now and Forever'.
He knew it. This woman was making things up about him.
"Give it back!"
Rita Skeeter tried to snatch the parchment, but Dudley wouldn't let her.
"I think as the person being interviewed, I have a right to know."
Dudley ripped the parchment into pieces in two quick motions.
"Ms. Rita Skeeter, I'm formally warning you. Because of your dishonesty, I will not accept any form of interview from the Daily Prophet. If I see even a single false word about me in the Daily Prophet..."
"I'll be happy to see you in the Wizengamot court."
"Harry, I think we should go up."
With that, he didn't even give Rita Skeeter a second look. He tossed the pieces of paper, and they spontaneously combusted, a gust of wind blowing them away until there was no trace left.
Dudley had no interest in playing a game of catching and threatening 'bugs.' The notes from the Quick-Quotes Quill had already made him angry. If this woman dared to push her luck...
She could only blame herself for not being warned.
He wasn't Dumbledore; he didn't have that much patience. And this woman had just involved two of the most important people in his life—his brother and... well.
Rita Skeeter's face was ashen. This was the first time she had ever been treated like this in her career. Her bulging eyes glared venomously at Dudley's retreating back.
So what if the notes were torn up? She could just write more. She swore she would make him pay for his actions today. Who was she? She was Rita Skeeter, the righteous reporter who 'feared no power' and 'dared to speak out.' What was there to worry about from a mere minor's threat?
Even Minister for Magic Fudge showed her respect.
She had already planned how she was going to get her revenge.
Clearly, the Daily Prophet's top pen-for-hire hadn't taken Dudley's words seriously at all.