Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

said.
    The smallest of frowns creased Bagman’s smooth face.
    ‘No, I haven’t,’ he said. ‘I – well, like I say, I’ve taken a liking to you. Just thought I’d offer …’
    ‘Well, thanks,’ said Harry, ‘but I think I’m nearly there with the egg … couple more days should crack it.’
    He wasn’t entirely sure why he was refusing Bagman’s help, except that Bagman was almost a stranger to him, and accepting his assistance would feel somehow much more like cheating than asking advice from Ron, Hermione or Sirius.
    Bagman looked almost affronted, but couldn’t say much more as Fred and George turned up at that point.
    ‘Hello, Mr Bagman,’ said Fred brightly. ‘Can we buy you a drink?’
    ‘Er … no,’ said Bagman, with a last disappointed glance at Harry, ‘no thank you, boys …’
    Fred and George looked quite as disappointed as Bagman, who was surveying Harry as though he had let him down badly.
    ‘Well, I must dash,’ he said. ‘Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harry.’
    He hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him. Harry went to rejoin Ron and Hermione.
    ‘What did he want?’ Ron said, the moment Harry had sat down.
    ‘He offered to help me with the golden egg,’ said Harry.
    ‘He shouldn’t be doing that!’ said Hermione, looking very shocked. ‘He’s one of the judges! And anyway, you’ve already worked it out – haven’t you?’
    ‘Er … nearly,’ said Harry.
    ‘Well, I don’t think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!’ said Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving. ‘I hope he’s trying to help Cedric as much!’
    ‘He’s not. I asked,’ said Harry.
    ‘Who cares if Diggory’s getting help?’ said Ron. Harry privately agreed.
    ‘Those goblins didn’t look very friendly,’ said Hermione, sipping her Butterbeer. ‘What were they doing here?’
    ‘Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman,’ said Harry. ‘He’s still ill. Hasn’t been into work.’
    ‘Maybe Percy’s poisoning him,’ said Ron. ‘Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he’ll be made Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation.’
    Hermione gave Ron a don’t-joke-about-things-like-that look, and said, ‘Funny, goblins looking for Mr Crouch … they’d normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.’
    ‘Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though,’ said Harry. ‘Maybe they need an interpreter.’
    ‘Worrying about poor ’ickle goblins, now, are you?’ Ron asked Hermione. ‘Thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?’
    ‘Ha, ha, ha,’ said Hermione sarcastically. ‘Goblins don’t need protection. Haven’t you been listening to what Professor Binns has been telling us about goblin rebellions?’
    ‘No,’ said Harry and Ron together.
    ‘Well, they’re quite capable of dealing with wizards,’ said Hermione, sipping more of her Butterbeer. ‘They’re very clever. They’re not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves.’
    ‘Uh oh,’ said Ron, staring at the door.
    Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby, Harry, Ron and Hermione glaring at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.
    ‘… didn’t seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what’s he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights … what nonsense … he was always a bad liar. Reckon something’s up? Think we should do a bit of digging? Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Sports, Ludo Bagman … snappy start to a sentence, Bozo – we just need to find a story to fit it –’
    ‘Trying to ruin someone else’s life?’ said Harry loudly.
    A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter’s eyes widened behind her jewelled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.
    ‘Harry!’ she said, beaming. ‘How lovely! Why don’t you come and join –?’
    ‘I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,’ said Harry furiously. ‘What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?’
    Rita Skeeter raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows.
    ‘Our readers have the right to know