Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 313 Rumors are becoming increasingly abstract.
"You definitely look better with a middle part..."

Harry said with a relieved expression, but when the topic turned to Rita Skeeter, he became extremely angry:

“Cohen, how did you deal with that Rita Skeeter? Her quill pen kept spouting nonsense… like ‘his green eyes were full of tears’—I didn’t shed a single tear!”

“You just need to say something more outrageous than what she wrote,” Cohen said with experience. “Here are three tips to blow up a reporter: sex, politics, and her age.”

“If only I had known sooner…” Harry said dejectedly, “I can’t even imagine what I would have ‘said’ in the newspapers…”

However, the article written by Rita was published two days later and did not cause Harry any trouble.

Because the front page of the newspaper featured Cohen—

“What do you mean by ‘I hope my family in Azkaban can come to watch the game’?” Hermione frowned as she read the newspaper at breakfast. “And this line, ‘I know I will win’—she’s portraying you as a conceited brat, Cohen. Rita Skeeter is disgusting!”

“There’s a slight difference between what I said and what she said.” Cohen looked at the article about him and said with some disappointment, “I wanted to be a little more pretentious. She didn’t write my sentence, ‘I feel like none of the other Warriors can beat me.’”

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened.

"The part about the Ministry of Magic was too vague, it felt like it had been revised twice," Cohen said, stroking his chin. "I was already quite sharp back then, like describing Fudge's misappropriation of unclaimed property confiscated by the Ministry of Magic..."

"Is that really true?" Harry looked at Cohen in surprise.

“No, I just said it offhand,” Cohen said. “Anyway, if it’s actually written down, it’s Rita who’s spreading rumors, not me—I’m still a minor.”

“At first glance, I can’t tell whether you or Rita are the reporter…” Hermione sighed. “Hey, is your relative at Burke Manor real?”

“It’s true, I even went to see him,” Cohen said. “It’s something I really wanted to see him at the game—he’s been stuck in those manor ruins for over a decade, it would be nice for him to get out and about.”

“I thought you were talking about Dementors…” Harry said.

“Then the game can’t go on,” Cohen said. “The stands are full of excitement; they can’t contain it.”

"—"

Ron, who was sitting far away, stood up with a chicken leg in his mouth. He was in a hurry to leave before he had even finished his meal.

"Ron, you don't have classes this morning, so you don't need to rush."

Hermione tried to call out to Ron, but Ron just mumbled something and left without looking back.

"He still can't see things clearly, can he?" Harry said irritably. "Does he think we'll chase after him and apologize for something we didn't even do?"

“Harry,” Hermione took a deep breath, “don’t be so childish.”

"He was childish first!" Harry said angrily.

“I don’t quite understand,” Cohen said in a human-like voice. “If you’re really eager to see Ron make up with us, I can help absorb all of Ron’s negative emotions.”

“This is altering someone else’s will, Cohen,” Hermione warned Cohen. “Dumbledore—”

“‘Dumbledore wouldn’t want you to be like this,’ I know, I know.” Cohen pursed his lips. “Then let’s wait for him to figure it out himself—he’ll figure it out eventually.” “It’s probably unlikely in the short term, especially since the Daily Prophet’s coverage of the two of you was so…exaggerated…” Hermione shook her head, but her gaze fell on the newspaper on Ron’s seat.

Unlike Harry and Cohen, who were flipping through the first and second editions, Ron's newspaper was stuck on the fourth edition.

Above is a photo of Harry, along with a bunch of interview transcripts.

“Harry finally found his first love at Hogwarts.” Hermione felt increasingly uneasy as she read on. “His close friend Colin Creevey said that Harry and a girl named Hermione Granger are inseparable…”

"You're dating too early!" Cohen hissed. "Give me 50, or I'll tell your parents—"

“Stop it, when did Harry and I start dating?” Hermione said. “This is clearly a fabrication. I’ve been watching your version, but Harry’s version is even worse.”

“What else did she say?” Harry quickly flipped to his own copy; he’d been so focused on Cohen’s piece that he hadn’t had time to look at his own. “I think it’s my parents who gave me strength… Sometimes I still cry about them at night… I didn’t cry! She wrote it as if I were a—a—”

“A crybaby,” Cohen said. “It’s certainly awful, but it makes your character more three-dimensional.”

“She’s a 3D bastard!” Harry swore, a rare occurrence for him. “Isn’t anyone going to do anything about this woman—”

“Just ignore these rumors,” Hermione said. “Harry, what she wants to see is you suffer a crushing defeat in the Triwizard Tournament because of these rumors, so she’ll have new material to write about.”

"Potter, need a handkerchief? Just in case you suddenly burst into tears and have nothing to wipe it with?" a short, chubby Slytherin student called out in an extremely annoying manner as he passed the Gryffindor table. "And that Norton, do you really think he's related to Azkaban—"

Cohen simply gave him a look, along with a subtle way of detaching himself from the fun, and the chubby boy, who had no tongue, was so frightened that he stopped his taunts and fled the auditorium as if his life depended on it.

“I’m starting to think your genocide plan is actually somewhat useful,” Cohen said to Harry.

“But your primary focus should now shift to something more important,” Hermione said, quickly finishing her breakfast and reminding Cohen and Harry, who were discussing how to expel Slytherin from the school.

“I do have something very important to deal with,” Harry said disappointedly. “Professor Flitwick had me practice summoning charms yesterday, but I still haven’t learned them.”

“It’s not about the homework,” Hermione said, exasperated. “You two don’t need final exams, remember? What you need to worry about is the first project, which only has two weeks left.”

"It's only been two weeks," Cohen waved his hand.

Stealing eggs from a dragon's nest was no problem at all; Cohen even wanted to steal a few more so that Norber could have a companion.

“Only two weeks.” Harry waved his hand, echoing Korn. “Wait—two weeks!?”

Harry suddenly panicked. He was so preoccupied with the newspaper and Ron that he almost forgot that November 24th was the start date of the first project.

He hasn't made any preparations yet.

“At least you should learn more spells, as should you both,” Hermione said seriously, “just in case you encounter danger.”

“If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask me,” Cohen said.

“Then you’ll probably have to teach me all the spells,” Harry said pessimistically, “because I feel like I don’t know anything right now.”

(End of this chapter)