Chapter 215 - The magazine

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Arth again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Arth would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group.

The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Arth into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions.

Arth was given flashbacks of France when the photographer seemed to realize that Arth existed.

In fact, Arthur was almost ninety five percent sure that they were the same people with different faces.

In fact, they made him take many photos in many different poses. Wearing many different clothes.

Arth went down to dinner.

He ate with Luna at the end of the table avoiding the chaos that was a happening again and then returned to Gryffindor Tower.

As if noticing the tiredness of Arth, Corvus was right there to cheer him up.

"Thanks a lot Corvus," said Arth with a wry grin while ruffling Corvus's feathers. "Let's go to sleep now.

Life became even worse for Arth within the confines of the castle, for Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored story of Arth.

Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Arth; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about Arth, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

The article had appeared ten days ago, and Arthur had a weird, burning feeling of shame in his stomach every time he thought about it. He might've gotten a tad bit over enthusiastic with Rita Skeeter.

My entire life, I've been shunned. Hurt. Looked over. I get as though I didn't exist.

Becoming friends with the Famous Harry Potter didn't really help.

It's not that Harry is a bad friend, but it's hard to be friends with someone so good and talented.

She even went further to interview other people.

Sc***ett, a beautiful red head girl, states that "I love him. He is the best. He is mine. All those F***ing S*uts out there back the f**k off cause he is mine.

Arth chose to ignore that one but made a mental note to talk to Scarlett later.

A uniquely interesting blonde girl with the name of L**a Love***d tells us that he is "Oh me? He is wonderful. My best friend. Stop it! Oh, what you mean? It's the narthaboles. They are everywhere.

This was a bit funny.

It is not just the females he is close too, but males.

Harry Potter states, "I don't have another friend like him. He is the only Arth I ever need."

This one sounded gay.

A boy, whose name does not want to be mention states that, "I LOVE YOU, PLEASE DATE ME!"

Arth closed the magazine and cringed at the front cover.

On it, was a picture of Arth smiling in a sad manner into the sky.

He hated to admit it, but he looked hot.