Eric unfurled the newspaper with a satisfied smile. Back on top with his victory in the second task. There’d been all that hubbub about Alexa almost drowning of course. Eric had timed that pretty well, the healers had saved her just in time. He had apologized to everybody for being so single focused on saving Ron and getting back to the surface of course. Absolutely no idea that poor Alexa was even in trouble after Dumbledore’s spell failed.

He still got first place, and Ginny got second. And he had gotten back at her. Eric figured they were even now, him and Ginny. She had been absolutely furious with him. He reached up and rubbed his cheek where she had hit him. He hadn’t expected her to actually get some licks in on him. He had been sloppy, too busy gloating to pay proper attention to his defense.

Eric looked at the headline and immediately frowned. What? He scanned through the whole thing. What! The whole thing was about Alexa and her almost drowning! Whatever, she almost died. Eric kind of got that. In the second half of the article Skeeter wasted no time in calling Eric heartless and cruel by intentionally abandoning Alexa behind when he saw victory of the task in front of him.

Why, he had spent a lot of effort making sure that no one could see it that way! How could Rita Skeeter just lie like that about something she couldn’t possibly know? There at the very end of the article was the list of finishers. First, Eric Potter with an undeserved win. Second, the brave and heroic Ginny Weasley who saved her friend from drowning. Then finally Victor Krum in third and Fleur in last. Well, at least Eric would be able to tease the arrogant girl about getting dead last for the third task… After Alexa almost drowned, Eric hadn’t been able to taunt Fleur properly about it without people thinking he was insincere about his concern for Alexa.

Eric crumpled up his paper and threw it onto the table in a ball. “Whatever,” He said with a sigh, “Stupid reporter has it out for me.”

“Someone almost drowning was kind of the bigger story anyway, Eric,” Hermione said, “Both Ron and I were under there. What if it had happened to us too? Or if the charm had broken without you noticing while Ginny wasn’t there? One of us might have actually died.”

Eric looked at her, “I guess. I thought that me winning would be worth at least more than a single line. And not have her saying that I left Alexa to die for the whole article.”

“Well you’ve got to admit mate,” Ron said, “That’s what it looks like, even if you didn’t know what was happening behind you. What with how you’ve got it out for my sister for some reason, you’re not exactly doing yourself any favors.”

“What do you mean? I have nothing against your sister,” Eric said, “I’ve explained all of it already. I was trying to help before Christmas. Even if I see that I was wrong to do that to them now. I’m more annoyed at Skeeter about her articles than Ginny for just doing her best at the events.”

“Well, you better not do anything,” Ron growled, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but just cut it out already. Ginny’s all focused on you too, and doesn’t tell anyone why. Just like you’re always paying attention to her for some reason. Everything was fine before you went around bothering her and trying to ‘help’.”

Eric looked between Ron and the nodding Hermione.

“Gah, alright,” Eric said while sulking slightly, “I’m just in a bad mood from my detentions with Lockhart. He keeps calling me Harry all the time as I answer his fan mail. It’s grating. She’s just an interesting person, ya know? Hard to not notice when she does interesting things. I didn’t mean things to go so far that she hates me now for some reason…”

“Eric, you’re absolutely hopeless,” Hermione said, “Honestly I don’t even understand how your mind works most of the time. Just focus on the dancing team more if you need to be distracted. If you’re good enough you might be able to become captain next year. Sixth and seventh years can be too busy to run clubs properly sometimes so there’s a chance there.”

Eric perked up, “You think so? That would be pretty amazing, wouldn’t it? Yeah, captain of the dance club…”

Ron snorted, “If only you cared about Quidditch as much as you do that dancing club.”

“Meh, Quidditch is lame and the golden Snitch makes no sense. Hermione agrees with me, right?”

Hermione didn’t see anything.

“See, she agrees,” Eric said. The conversation turned to an argument on Quidditch as a good sport or not between Eric and Ron with Hermione jumping in on Eric’s side occasionally. Well, the scales were even now between him and Ginny, he figured. His friends were right, he should stop obsessing over her so much. He had his own things to do, and he didn’t even care about the tournament prize money anyway.

Yes, much better to focus on the dancing team and his friends than figuring out why Ginny hated him all the sudden when no one had even died from what he’d done.

— — —

Eric walked away from the dance club with pursed lips, trying to learn how to whistle. It was surprisingly hard to get, all he had accomplished so far was making a weak sound like rushing wind. Nothing like a real whistle like he’d heard others do, to the point that they could whistle music to themselves.

Eric stopped as he felt the suspicious presence come up behind him. That little green beetle from before. Something was odd about it, he was sure of it now. It had been following him on and off for a while now. Time to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Eric diverted his path into an abandoned section of the castle and hurried his stride as if going to a destination with intention. Sure enough the green beetle followed after him. He ducked into an abandoned classroom and waited and stared at a random wall for a bit as he noticed the green beetle squeeze in under the door after a few seconds. The insect buzzed up to the upper corner of the room before settling into place so it could observe him.

In a sudden burst of motion, Eric turned around quickly and pointed his wand towards the only door out of the windowless room that he had picked. The door quickly transfigured into a solid wall with no gaps in it. The green beetle shifted in place, but didn’t move.

There, now no sudden escapes. Eric returned to stare at the blank wall as if seriously considering something. But what he was really doing was preparing his magic tendrils to surround the beetle on all sides.

He waited a few more seconds to ensure everything was aligned before piercing downwards and grabbing the beetle. The little insect thrashed and struggled as he used his tendrils to carry it down to hover just in front of him. It was a magical beetle, but still just a beetle. Eric could directly latch onto it with his magic tendrils if he was willing to pay the increased magic required to do so.

He stared at the beetle, trying to decide what to do. Was it a remote viewing device? Someone’s familiar? Who was spying on him? He started tugging on one of the legs of the beetle. Was it an enchanted construct or a real living creature being controlled by somebody else? Eric thought it was alive, but maybe it was just so advanced that he couldn’t tell.

He began to tug to remove one of its legs and it began to squirm. Evidence of aliveness mounting… He was about to give one final tug before the beetle began to shift and twist and grow in size. Eric’s tendril’s twitched in surprise and he dropped the beetle. In less than a second, a woman stood there in front of him. Rita Skeeter in the same green clothing that she had worn to their interviews.

He blinked. “You’re an animagus?” He said, “You’ve been the beetle spying on me?”

Skeeter looked torn for a second before sighing.

“Yes,” She said, “Fine, you got me. It’s rather useful for getting the stories that no one else can. Now as you can imagine, people knowing about my little secret would be inconvenient. So, what do you want?”

“What do I want?” Eric asked, still recovering from what had just happened.

“Yes, I’m sure we can come to some sort of deal,” Rita said, “I’ll write some good stories about you in the tournament, presenting you as some misunderstood hero. You keep my secret from everybody. Everyone walks away happy.”

“Oh!” Eric said as he understood her offer, “That sounds great! I can go for that.”

Rita nodded, “Great. Now if you’d get the door…”

“But why?” Eric asked, “I’ve still got to get some revenge for all those horrible things you said about me before now.”

“Revenge?” Rita said, a bead of sweat suddenly appearing on her brow, “T-There’s no need for that. It was just the way the news goes. There always has to be a villain and a hero for every story. You just drew the short straw. The easiest to misrepresent to the public!”

“Okay, I get it,” Eric said, “Still, you hurt my feelings. I don’t like that.”

“Well, if you just let me go then I’ll write all the good stories you could ever want. No need to hold my secret over me even more. It’s valuable, but not that valuable if you want to threaten me.”

“Of course not, of course not,” Eric said, “I absolutely promise that I won’t tell anyone about your secret under any circumstances. In return you’ll write positive stories about me in the future. We both agree on that, right?”

Skeeter relaxed, “Yes, of course. I knew you would see reason. No need to make things unpleasant.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want things to be unpleasant,” Eric agreed, “Well, then we can move on from there, agreed?”

“Yes, of course. The door then…”

“But what about the past? Everything you’ve done up to now?” Eric said, “What will you give me for that? Maybe I should take your pound of flesh as revenge? I heard that phrase from somebody a few weeks ago, it sounds like the right thing to do here. Ah, but which pound? How would I measure how much to carve out? And different pounds have different values. A pound from your calf is nothing compared to a pound from your brain. What do you think? What pound from you should I take?”

“You’re insane…” Rita said in fear, “I… people know that I’m here! You think that you can take me on? I’m a full grown witch! You’re nothing but a fourth year.”

Eric chuckled. “C’mon, not even you believe that. So why don’t you just give it up already. Just let me take my pound for all the distress and heartache you've caused me and we don’t have to make things… unpleasant.”

Rita twitched and Eric felt her channeling magic into her wand. Eric’s magic tendrils grabbed her wand and ripped it from her grip, not even caring about the cost of it. It flew across the room and into his own hand.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“No!” Rita said and tried to catch her wand as it left her hand. She tried to lunge forward, but Eric brandishing his own wand caused her to freeze in place and not move any closer.

“You need this, don’t you,” Eric said as he waggled Rita’s wand at her, “To transform back into your bug form. You’re lucky you didn’t manage it. I might have accidentally stepped on you before leaving the room if you had.”

Rita was sweating heavily now and looked frightened as Eric took a step towards her with a wild unhinged smile. He hadn’t been able to let out any of those in a long time.

“Now, look here,” Rita stammered, “I’m sure we can come up with a deal…”

“We’ve already made a deal, Rita,” Eric said as he threw both of his wands into the far corner of the room, “Now try not to make this unpleasant for me. I’ll just have to take longer if you make me upset.”

Rita lunged forward to grab him, but Eric grabbed her with his magic tendrils and shoved her back so she was pinned to the wall.

“Now Rita,” He said, “How should we measure your pound of flesh? How much do you weigh?”

“W– What?”

“Well, we have no scales!” Eric said clearly. She seemed rather stunned by her failed escape attempt as he kept pressing her into the wall with his magic. Having trouble collecting her thoughts for the task ahead of them, “So we’ll have to do some rough calculations. How much. Do you weigh?”

“I… One hundred and sixty pounds! What are you doing?! You don’t want to do this, I’ll tell the Aurors! You’ll be thrown into Azkaban!”

“You really are panicking, Rita,” Eric said, “Everyone knows that Azkaban is old news. C’mon, what’s a little pain compared to what you’ve done to my reputation? So one out of roughly one fifty.”

Eric lifted his finger towards Rita and created a cutting charm on the very tip of it. He had learned how to do this after he’d seen an old kung-fu movie at the orphanage over Christmas break. The old monk had slapped someone’s head off in a single blow. Eric wanted to be able to do that someday. But for now one little razor sharp blade at the tip of his finger was perfect for what he had planned.

He reached out and sank the blade into Rita’s forearm, causing the woman to shudder and gasp. Eric carved off the top layer of the skin, creating a little strip of skin that he peeled off of her like a layer of an onion. He levitated a nearby table stacked in the corner and lifted it so it was to the side and he carefully placed the long strip of skin on the table.

“You… You’re a monster,” Rita gasped between her short gasps of pain.

“I’m not a monster,” Eric said, “I’ll even let you choose what you want to lose. You want me to go deeper, or start carving on the surface of another spot? Don’t worry about blood loss. I’ve learned spells to help stop that. We’ll keep going until we’ve got one in one one hundred and fiftieth of your body on the little table here. I know that bones are heavy, so I’ll try to underestimate the volume we take to make up the difference. So, deeper or wider? I’ve heard that the deeper you go into the flesh the less painful it will get. Less exposed nerve endings. But going wider means less chance of permanent damage even if it's more painful right now.”

Rita didn’t say anything and struggled to move as Eric kept her pinned in place even as he stared at her expectantly, “Well? I’m trying to be nice here. Deeper or wider?”

“D… Deeper!”

“Okay.” He carved another strip from her and put it on the table, “Just let me know if you want me to focus on somewhere else to start carving up. It’s my first time doing this, so I figured you know best where I should go to get our pound of flesh the easiest. You’re in control here.”

“I… You don’t want to do this. Can’t we just go our separate ways? Money! I can give you money!”

“Nah, I don’t need any money. Heir to the Potter fortune, remember? I’ll take that as a deeper.”

“Gah! Shit, what the hell do you want then you little brat? You getting off on this, pinning a woman to the wall and carving strips from her?”

Eric looked at her in surprise, “Getting off? What does that mean? Why does it matter if you’re a woman or not? Deeper.”

“Ah, fuck! Wider, wider, you little shit. Other arm, by Merlin please stop.”

“Okay. Wider it is. Well, this is what I want. I’ve heard that when someone wants revenge on somebody who wronged them that they want to take their pound of flesh from somebody. You’re that somebody, Rita. And I’m getting my pound. Well, roughly pound. We’ll see. After we’re done we’ll be even, right? I’ll have my pound and everything in the past between us will be forgiven. Just like the phrase. Doesn’t it all just make sense? It makes sense to me. Deeper or wider?”

“Deeper, gah! What in Merlin’s name… I can’t believe my slander wasn’t enough for once. You should be locked up! Thrown in the madhouse!”

Eric eyed the little pile of flesh critically for a moment before gathering it into a little ball and comparing it to Rita’s full size.

“Maybe… three, four times that big?” He guessed, “What do you think, Rita? Which do you think it is?”

“You… you’re actually asking me?”

“Of course. I don’t want to be greedy. You only owe me a pound when you came in here. Taking anything more than what you owe me would be theft!”

“Three. Obviously three,” Rita said while still groaning and swearing under her breath. Eric’s spell was plugging any open veins or arteries so that they wouldn’t bleed. If he cut too deep she may lose blood flow entirely to certain parts of her body. But well… Some healing spells could fix any issues from that pretty quick.

Everything he was doing right now could be healed with a few good healing spells. It’s one of the reasons he had zero guilt over doing this. Everything he was doing to her right now was completely temporary as soon as she saw a half-way competent healer. Not even as painful as some of the dark curses that he’d heard of before.

“Alright, four it is,” Eric said, “You’re the boss Rita.”

“No, No, I said thre- AAAAHHHH!”

“Deeper. You want to switch again? That was a pretty big chunk. How about the legs? Your calves and thighs must have a lot of room. Or your stomach area, although it would be harder to not hit something critical if we start cutting there past the skin…”

“Ah, Merlin… Fine, upper thigh you little pervert.”

“I don’t know why you keep focusing on that,” Eric said, “I did think that your butt would be a pretty good place to go for next. Lots of fat there, probably wouldn’t be as painful. But I didn’t mention it because it would be rude to suggest it myself. And it would make you indecent, since I’ve got to cut a hole in your clothes to get access to the spots. That would probably just be awkward for the both of us. Right or left?”

“R… Right,” Rita panted.

Eric hummed to himself as Rita kept telling him where to cut and insulting him the whole while. Each insult added just a little more flesh he had to take, but he didn’t tell her that yet. It would be best to surprise her with it at the end to increase the shock value of the revelation.

“I… I thought you said four times bigger?” Rita said woozily, “That looks larger… I thought we were done.”

“I know,” Eric said, “But each time you insulted me added just a little bit more. Don’t worry. We’re so close. Another five or so cuts and I’m sure we’ll get there if you stay focused. Your thighs are getting rather battered. Should we move again?”

“Calf,” Rita muttered, “Just get it over with.”

“Okay.”

Eric soon finished up under Rita’s guidance.

He floated the ball of flesh in a tightly compressed ball off the table and floated it just in front of Rita. He compared Rita’s full body to the little ball. Hm… was that the right size?

“What do you think, Rita? Is it the right size?”

“It’s… about right? I don’t know…”

Eric waited a few seconds before nodding, “Yeah, you’re right. That’s probably a pound.”

He stepped back and Rita fell to the floor as he stopped pressing her against the wall with his magic. She lay on the floor unmoving, her wounds still plugged with Eric’s spells.

“So, are you going to tell anyone about this? Sic the Aurors on me?” Eric asked.

“No…”

“Okay, I believe you. Just remember…”

Eric floated the ball of her skin and muscle to float just in front of her. She looked at the little ball of flesh in horror as he waved it from side to side in front of her.

“If you slander me again I might have to take another pound of flesh as payment. And I might not be as thoughtful about which one like I was this time. And… oh, wait! I’ve just had an idea!”

Rita cringed and curled up into a ball.

“Ah, no Rita,” Eric said as he lifted the ball of flesh and set it back on the table, “It’s actually a good thing this time. Swear to me on your magic that you won’t tell anyone about what happened in this room and you won’t have to worry about this happening ever again! I can’t believe that I almost forgot. Just say your name and the words and really mean it. It doesn’t work if you’re only doing it because you think you’re in danger or something. I mean it’s not like I was ever going to kill you, so I don’t know why you’re so freaked out honestly. If you do that then I’ll let you go. If you can’t do it then you’ll just have to risk that telling somebody about this would make me mad again.”

“I… I Rita Skeeter swear on my magic to never tell anyone about what has just occurred in this room. Oooooohhh. What was that? What did I just do?”

“You swore on your magic,” Eric said, “Now if you try to break your word your magic will attack you and you’ll instantly die. I do think it warns you if you’re about to do something wrong, so no need to worry about accidentally breaking it or anything like that. Now, I think we’re done here. My spells keeping your blood inside of you should expire in thirty minutes or so. So I’d think of your excuses and go see a healer before that happens and you start spraying red everywhere and bleeding out. Don’t spy on me again. And remember our other deal, positive articles in exchange for me not telling everyone that you’re an animagus.”

Rita lay there on the floor, looking frightened.

“Aw, C”mon!” Eric said, “It’s just a little pain. In a few hours you’ll be looking back on this and wondering at how amazing you feel after getting healed. Anyway, I’m late. I was supposed to meet Hermione at the library to go study. I’ll have to think of an excuse for why I was so late…”

He transfigured the door again back to its original state and opened it. He paused at the threshold and turned back.

“Oh,” He said, just remembering. He reached out and the two wands in the corner of the room came flying into his hands. He took Rita’s wand and grabbed it by the tip and hurled it at her, letting it spin end over end. She flinched as it smacked her head point first and went spinning off to land behind her.

“Man, was hoping for a bounce off an eye,” Eric said in disappointment, “Ah well, there’s always next time.”

He floated the pound of Rita’s flesh over to him and in a burst of magic set it ablaze. Over the course of a few seconds it was reduced to ash and fell to the floor.

“There!” Eric said cheerfully, “All tied up in a neat bow. I’m glad we’ve sorted things out between us, Rita. I’m looking forward to reading your next article about me.”

He closed the door behind him as he saw Rita’s questing hand manage to grip her wand where it had fallen. Eric wasn’t worried. She seemed pretty resourceful, he was sure she’d make it to the healers and come up with a proper excuse in time.

He felt much lighter with a pep in his step as he made his way to the library. He had no idea how much his anger at Rita Skeeter had been weighing on him. He wondered how over the top she would be for her compliments? How would she frame it to turn it around when she’d spent so long slandering him and pushing up Ginny as some fated hero fighting against him? Revealing that she was a beetle animagus would be a serious blow to her reputation. Eric was sure she’d do quite a bit to make sure that he didn’t tell anyone about it.

As for what had just happened… Well he was sure that after she got herself healed and wasn’t in pain anymore that she’d see his reasoning even if she didn’t like it. Hopefully she’d understand that Eric considered it in the past for the both of them. What he had just done and the mean cruel articles she had written about him. No need for any further hostility between them when there didn’t have to be now that things were fully settled.

But Eric had discovered when he trapped Ginny and her friends in that cocoon that other people didn’t see things the way he did. Well, of course he knew that. But he hadn’t thought that it was to the extent he observed from what people thought of him after that. Even his friends.

Eric shook his head as he entered the library. Hermione was already studying at their usual table, Ron nowhere to be found, probably too busy playing chess or hanging out with Dean Thomas or one of his other friends. Eric walked up and put his books on the table.

“Hey, Hermione,” Eric whispered, “Sorry I’m late. Got distracted smelling the flowers in one of the courtyards.”

Hermione smiled slightly and shook her head, “You can just say you forgot Eric. You don’t have to keep making things up. Without somebody to remind you of things I don’t think you’d manage to arrive anywhere on time.”

Eric shrugged. Hermione looked down at his bag and her eyes widened slightly in shock.

“Eric? Is that blood on your bag?”

He looked down at it. Huh, it seems that when he cut one of Rita’s open arteries by accident, the spray of blood had splashed onto his stuff before his spell to cut off the bleeding kicked in.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Eric said as he took his wand from his robes, “Scourgify,” He said as he cleaned the blood off the bag.

“Sorry, I got a bloody nose earlier. Must have dripped onto the bag, didn’t even notice it,” he explained.

“You’ve got to pay more attention, that’s so unsanitary,” Hermione scolded, “I’ve already done the charm's homework without you. Want to get started on potion’s together?”

“Sure. I’m sure that exam next week is going to be crazy hard…”