Harry Potter with Technology System

Draco dropped heavily onto the bench beside Harry and others, his face unusually grim. He slapped a copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table in front of Ginny, drawing everyone’s attention.

"Your dad’s in the paper, Weasleys," he said bluntly, his tone carrying an edge that hinted at both irritation and concern.

Fred and George, who were mid-bicker with Daphne over something trivial, immediately leaned over to see the article. Ginny froze, her eyes narrowing as she grabbed the paper from the table. “What now?” she muttered, unfolding it with stiff fingers.

“Further Mistakes at the Ministry of Magic,” Draco read aloud, his voice dripping with disdain. “Written by that hack, Rita Skeeter.” He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. “She’s on one again.”

Ginny’s eyes darted across the article, her expression growing darker with every line. Fred snatched the paper from her hands, reading aloud before she could.

“‘The Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arthur Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office,’” Fred began, his tone heavy with mockery. “‘Weasley, who has long been known for his eccentric fixation on Muggle contraptions, has once again proven that the Ministry has a hard time keeping its staff in line.’”

Despite their prompt crowd control during the Quidditch World Cup, Rita Skeeter had previously written a scathing article about the Ministry’s handling of the situation. She accused them of having “suspicious foreknowledge” of the Death Eater raid and claimed that, despite being prepared, they recklessly endangered thousands of witches and wizards by allowing the event to go on. It was ridiculous then, and it was ridiculous now. This time, however, her focus had shifted to Arthur Weasley, targeting him with yet another baseless smear piece.

“The Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office,” Fred read aloud, his voice sharp with irritation as he emphasized her deliberate misnaming of Arthur.

“Arnold?” Ginny hissed under her breath, her fists clenching around the edges of the table. George snatched the paper from Fred, his jaw tightening as he skimmed the rest of the article.

“She goes on to say,” George continued, his voice low but no less angry, “‘This so-called wizard spent Ministry resources pursuing yet another of his absurd projects, demonstrating, once again, the utter incompetence and waste that plagues our government.’” He slapped the paper onto the table with enough force to make the plates rattle. “What rubbish.”

Ginny’s face was stormy as she glared at the offending article. “How is this allowed? Dad does more actual work in a week than that cow does in a year.”

Harry, who had been leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed, glanced at the article as George shoved it toward him. Skeeter had gone on to insinuate that Arthur’s fascination with Muggle objects was a “dangerous eccentricity” that compromised his ability to carry out his duties. @@novelbin@@

Due to Harry, the Ministry had been almost certain about the Death Eater raid at the Quidditch World Cup. Amelia Bones ensured her Aurors were prepared, and they handled the situation with precision. Arrests were swift, and not a single person had been seriously injured. Yet, Rita Skeeter had still managed to twist the story to paint the Ministry—and particularly Amelia Bones—as incompetent.

Harry skimmed the article Fred and George had read aloud. Skeeter’s style was as slimy as ever, laced with cheap sensationalism. She praised the chaos caused by the Death Eaters, implying their actions had somehow made fools of the Ministry. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he reread her line about Amelia Bones: “One has to wonder how someone as rigidly by-the-book as Madam Bones could allow such embarrassment under her watch.”

“Pathetic,” Harry muttered, tossing the paper onto the table. Ginny was still fuming beside him, her hands clenched into fists.

“She doesn’t even care if it’s true,” Ginny said sharply. “Dad’s worked harder than anyone to keep things running smoothly after the raid. But no, she has to call him ‘Arnold.’ Arnold!” She practically spat the name, her face red with anger.

Fred leaned forward, shaking his head. “It’s how she works. Skeeter doesn’t care about the truth. She just wants a flashy headline.”

“She’s lucky Mum isn’t here,” George added. “She would be dragging Rita by her ridiculous glasses all the way to the Burrow.”

“Rita’s got some nerve going after Bones, too,” Blaise Zabini chimed in, glancing over from his seat across the table. “Does she not realize Bones has half the Wizengamot in her side? Even a snake knows better than to bite a dragon.”

Susan and Hannah entered the Great Hall, their faces drawn with irritation, a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet in Susan’s hands. Spotting Harry at the Slytherin table, Susan made a beeline for him, her steps brisk. Tracey, perched next to Harry, shifted slightly to make room as Susan dropped down beside him, slumping heavily against his shoulder.

“This... despicable woman runs her mouth again,” Susan muttered, her tone dripping with frustration. She held up the newspaper, its headline gleaming obnoxiously under the enchanted candlelight.

“Skeeter?” Nott asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

Hannah, sitting down on Tracey’s other side, nodded with a sigh. “Who else? She’s gone after Mr. Weasley this time but still jabs at Aunty."

Harry was just as angry but quickly calmed the group. “Don’t worry. Aunt Amelia doesn’t care, and neither should you,” he said firmly, leaning back against the bench. “Everyone knows Skeeter is just spouting nonsense. She writes for attention, not facts.”

Fred snorted but nodded. “Guess it’s better to laugh at her than let her get to us.”

Ginny, still fuming, shot Harry a sharp look. "It’s not fair, though. She always gets away with this garbage."

"Life isn’t fair," Harry replied flatly, meeting her gaze. "But that doesn’t mean you let her win by giving her what she wants—your anger." He glanced at the paper again and added dryly, "Besides, if Skeeter keeps poking at Aunt Amelia, she might find herself on the wrong end of a legal hex. Let her dig her own grave."

The group exchanged glances, and Ginny finally sighed, slumping back against the bench. "Fine. I’ll try to ignore it, but if I see her in Diagon Alley..." She trailed off, clearly imagining something violent.

"I’ll make sure you don’t," Harry said with a faint smirk.

Susan folded the paper and placed it down. “Aunt Amelia’s too sharp to let this affect her. It’s just frustrating to see it printed everywhere. People will read it and believe it.”

“They might,” Daphne cut in, her voice calm but firm, “but the ones who matter won’t. Bones has a solid reputation. Skeeter can scribble all she likes, but she can’t rewrite facts.”

Hannah nodded in agreement, though her expression was still uneasy. “It’s just so unnecessary. You would think Skeeter would have better things to write about.”

“Better things don’t sell,” Blaise muttered. “Drama does. The more outrageous, the better.”

...

After lunch, the students separated, heading to their respective classes. For Harry and the rest of the Slytherins, their next stop was Defense Against the Dark Arts, shared with Gryffindor. It was their first session with "Mad-Eye Moody" this year, and Harry was curious to see how well Barty Crouch Jr., under the guise of Moody, would handle the act.

Last year, the real Moody had arrived late but made an impression strong enough to earn grudging respect from nearly all the students. He proved to be a skilled and competent professor, enough so that Harry had removed the curse on the DADA position, specifically for him. Now, with Barty Crouch Jr. stepping into Moody’s persona, Harry had his doubts. Could he convincingly pull it off? It wasn’t just about maintaining the gruff demeanor and signature growl—it was about holding the respect of a class full of sharp-eyed students, some of whom, like Hermione, wouldn’t miss a slip.