I'm Rita skater.

I write for the Daily Prophet.

But of course you know that, don't you?

It's you we don't know.

You're the juicy news.

Quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks.

What mysteries?

To the muscles mask.

Does courage lie beneath those curls?

In short, what makes a champion tick?

Me myself and I want to know not to mention my rabid readers.

So who's feeling up to share?

It should start with the youngest.

Lovely.

Yeah.

Mm.

This is Kanzi.

It's a broom cupboard.

You should feel right at home.

Then.

Don't mind if you use a quick quotes quill, do you?

Oh, no.

So tell me, Harry.

Hey, he said, um, me and boy of 12.

14 about to compete against three students.

Not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself to have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your busiest day dreams.

Concerned?

I don't know.

I have money.

Hold it.

You can't ignore the quail.

Of course.

You're no ordinary boy.

12, Are you 14 stories?

Legend.

Mhm.

Do you think it was the trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?

No, I didn't enter.

Thought you didn't.

Mhm.

Everyone loves the rebel.

Harry.

Scratch that.

Last speaking of your parents, were they alive?

Think they'd feel proud or concerned that your attitude shows at best a pathological need for attention?

Worst psychotic death wish.

Hi.

My eyes aren't listening with the ghosts of my past.