(We’ll go back a bit. Everyone remembers that wonderful moment in the fourth book with a check of magic wands? Even during the first reading, this whole situation with dragging Harry into the closet as an adult woman ... and the name of the event itself - “Checking the Wands” suggested me some frivolous thoughts. Now let's fantasize together - what could be the first experience of our Boy-Who-Lived)

- Check magic wands? Said Harry, puzzled.

- It is necessary to check in what condition they are, if there are any breakages. This is your main tool in the competition. A specialist in this area is now upstairs with a director. After the ceremony, you will be photographed. Meet Rita Skeeter. - Bagman gestured to a woman in a scarlet robe. “She makes a little material about the Tournament for the Prophet.”

“Not so small, Ludo,” Rita corrected, staring at Harry.

Her hair was tied up with exquisite and strangely looking curls. She wore jewelry-trimmed glasses. Fingers clutching a crocodile skin purse were crowned with predatory two-inch nails, covered with bright scarlet varnish. In general, she gave the impression of a mature woman who had not lost her former beauty, even more so with age she acquired the appearance of an experienced sexual predator.

“Could I talk to Harry a bit before they start?” She asked Bagman, but she continued to look at Harry. - The youngest of the Champions, do you know ... to add color?

- Well, of course! Exclaimed Bagman. - That is ... if Harry doesn't mind ...

“Hmmm,” said Harry.

“Wonderful,” Rita Skeeter summed up, and Harry didn’t have time to come to his senses when her scarlet-clawed hand suddenly gripped his elbow with a tight grip, and he was pulled out of the room, towards the door nearby.

“This noise is completely inappropriate to us,” she said. - Well, let's see ... yes, here it is very cozy and cute.

They were in the broom closet. Harry's eyes bulged.

“This way, honey — yes, yes — wonderful,” repeated Rita Skeeter, pushing Harry into the drawer and closing the door, so that they plunged into darkness. - Well, let's see ...

In the pantry, it was rather cramped, which is why the chest, covered in a bright green jacket of considerable size, rushed around Harry's face, and a couple of times and very trim and appetizing looking for her years as a scandalous journalist. From such intimate intimacy with the woman, Harry blushed slightly, and in his pants began to feel a slight tension.

She opened her crocodile handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, lit them with a wave of her hand, and enchanted them so that they hung in the air, making it possible to navigate in the dark. Harry noticed that with such ... more intimate lighting, Rita began to look much younger, and what can be more attractive to say.

“Do you mind, Harry, if I use the Quoting Pen?” I don’t have to stop talking to you ...

- Right ... what? - did not understand Harry.

Rita Skeeter’s smile widened. She again climbed into the crocodile handbag and retrieved a long poisonous green quill and a parchment scroll, which she spreaded on the box of the Universal Magic Cleaner Mrs. Chistiks. Thrusting the tip of the green pen into her mouth, she sucked it a little with obvious pleasure, while she kept a close eye on Harry, and at some point (Harry was sure of that) winked at him. This simple action caused the burning to strain even more, as his young body clearly wanted his cock to jump out of his pants. And Harry was no longer sure that the mantle completely hides his tension.Then she put the pen down on the parchment, and it remained there to stand, slightly trembling. After making sure that everything was ready, she sat on a high tub half-turned to Harry and put her legs on the leg, from which a rather high side cut on the skirt exposed Rita’s leg pulled into an open stocking. Harry put a lot of effort that would not start looking at the pattern on the stocking. His gaze was continually transferred to her leg.

“The check ... my name is Rita Skeeter, I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet.”

Harry quickly glanced at the quill. As soon as Rita Skeeter spoke, the green feather started to scribble, sliding on the parchment:

“Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three years old, whose fierce feather pierced a lot of bloated reputations ...”

“Wonderful,” Rita Skeeter said again, tore off the top edge of the parchment, crumpled it up and put it in her handbag. Then she leaned over to Harry and said: “So, Harry ... what prompted you to add your name to the lists of candidates in the Three Wizards Tournament?”

“Um,” Harry began again, but the feather distracted him. It ran along the parchment, without waiting for an answer, and he managed to make out one of the phrases left by the pen:

"The ugly scar, a reminder of the tragic past, spoils the rest of Harry Potter's charming face, whose eyes ..."

“Don't pay attention to the pen, Harry,” said Rita Skeeter firmly. Reluctantly, Harry looked at her. “Now tell me why you decided to participate in the tournament, Harry?”

“He’s really so ugly,” Harry mumbled a bit in dismay.

“Well, dear, you look very charming,” she suddenly stroked his cheek, “For your age, you are even handsome,” she added, thinking a little quieter a little quieter.

The touch of her fingers was surprisingly very soft and warm. Rita's fingers, unlike her character, were very graceful and delicate, and this despite the two-inch nails. From such a touch and a compliment, the burning has become agitated in earnest.

“Harry Potter was unable to resist the sexy blonde Rita Skeeter, from which his considerable size member began to stick out on the mantle. The very same Rita was not opposed to teach a teenager some sexual wisdom ”.

Harry forgot how to breathe with horror he looked at Rita, then at the parchment. Rita herself, with a slightly surprised look, slid off the parchment, onto Harry's face and onto his rearing robe.

“It seems you have some difficulties,” Rita sang with a bow to her lips.

“I'd better go,” Harry jumped to his feet, but because of the narrowness of the storeroom, he didn’t take into account one thing - that when he gets up his tense cock will be right in front of Rita’s nose.

“Although I hurried — you have a huge problem,” by sliding her glasses to the very tip of her nose, she was gazing with surprise at her eyes at the hillock on Potter's mantle.

Realizing this, Harry sat down again hastily. For half a minute, they were silent - Harry, with a member who did not want to calm down, and Rita - who put thoughts in order.

“Harry, at least they say about me that I’m angry and for a good article selling my father and mother, but I’m the same woman,” She spoke softly and soothingly, and even with some kind of care.

- And I understand perfectly well that it’s not easy for you now - gamons and a tournament. And believe my experience - from such stress, your problem itself will not disappear anywhere. Well, unless someone does not help you with this, - here in her look flashed sly sparkles.

- I.e? - hoarse with emotion, his voice croaked Harry.

"So, you have two options," She rose to her feet and hung over Potter, looking into his eyes. - The first option - I'm leaving now and leave you to cool down alone.

- Just like that? - The look of Harry squeezed into the wall rushed from her face to her chest and leg, which was still exposed from the cut of the green skirt.

“Why, it's so simple and uninteresting — I take the parchment with me — and I write a not very interesting article about how Harry Potter wanted more fame and applied for participation in the tournament.

Harry paused, peering into Rita's absolutely serious face.

- And second?

“The second option is more interesting,” Rita smiled slyly and began to stroke Harry’s cheek, “I help solve your BIG problem,” She shot down eyes, her hand slid lower and already ...