Rita paused, breathing in the smell of ink and parchment. She smirked and set her quill into her almost-empty ink bottle. The ink smudged due to her hastiness, but at last, she was done.
–Fix up the ink on the last paragraph for me,†she told her assistant as she dropped the scroll on his desk. Rita’s assistant unravelled the scroll, looking up at Rita apprehensively. Rita looked at him over her jewelled glasses and a smirk. Her assistant read the first few lines, mumbling the words under his breath. He rolled his eyes and let the scroll snap closed and fall on his other papers.
–You can’t be serious, Rita!†he cried. –Another piece about the corruption of Ministry workers?†He put his feet on desk and leaned back in his chair, both hands behind his head. He let out a loud laugh before continuing. –I mean with Black having just escaped from Azkaban, people want to believe that they’re being protected…frankly, this is fit for a gossip magazine!†He flicked the scroll and it flopped across his desk in a half-hearted way.
Rita’s smirk twisted into a grimace. –I didn’t ask your opinion, Gary.†Her curls bounced as she reached over and pushed the scroll into his lap. –I’ve been working for the Daily Prophet since I left Hogwarts over twenty years ago. I hardly think you were born yet!â€
Gary put his feet down and offered her a soft smile. –Rita, my job here is to be taught, mentored, even nurtured by a journalism role model.†He smile grew wide. –I hardly think that is going to happen.â€
–I don’t pay you to learn, I pay you to publish my work,†she hissed and left the room.
–You don’t pay me at all!†He shouted after her.
In the main room, the printing presses were churning rhythmically. Each machine had a bin of scrolls and photographs on one end and a neat stack of Evening Prophets at the other. Some made ominous squeaking noises and a few were spraying ink everywhere.
–’Ello, Ms Skeeter! Can you believe this one’s broken again?â€said one of the workers. He was wrestling with a machine that was dumping shredded newspapers on the printer next to it.
–Doesn’t surprise me, Hank,†she replied, flashing her gold teeth insincerely at him and stepping out into Diagon Alley. She walked determinedly toward the Leaky Cauldron, checking her watch before warming her hands in her pockets. It was a quarter past five. She quickened her step and pulled open the pub’s ancient door.
A plump frame and familiar whine grabbed Rita’s attention right away. Bertha was standing at the bar, badgering Tom, the owner, for a free drink.
–Bertha, how lovely to see you again!†Rita crooned. She flashed her gold teeth once again. –I’ll get the drinks, dear. You just snag us a table.â€
Bertha’s round face lit up when Rita said she’d get the drinks. –Rita, you’re late,†she said, dragging out each word teasingly. She wagged her finger at Rita, smiling.
Rita turned to the bar as Bertha weaved between the crowded tables. –Two pints,†she said curtly.
–Bertha sure is excited to speak with you, told me she was waiting for you,†chuckled Tom.
–Oh, did she?†said Rita, shifting her weight uncomfortably. Tom laughed and handed her the pints. Did Bertha really need to advertise that Rita associated with her?
Rita sat down and pulled out her trusty, green quill. Before Rita said a word, Bertha began.
–Well, I’ve heard some juicy news from three reliable sources,†said Bertha. She watched Rita’s face, waiting for this to soak in. –The head of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee swears up and down that Black was behind the spell backfire in Cambridge last week. A crowd of Muggles, that’s just what Black likes! Three Muggles injured middle of the day, couldn’t find a wizard on the scene--definitely the work of Black. Especially the spell backfire. He must’ve stolen a wand, and Merlin knows he’s a madman now. Wouldn’t be able to cast a proper spell if he wanted to! Maybe you should ask at Wand Registry whether any wands have been reported stolen around Cambridge…â€
–That won’t be necessary,†said Rita, smiling over her quill.
–Black is mad as ever,†Bertha continued. –The Ministry is not doing nearly enough to stop him. He’s going to start killing again, I can just feel it. It’ll be a sad, sad day when the Ministry is all a-flurry when Black kills another dozen Muggles.†The false pout she wore didn’t fool Rita, but Rita said nothing.
–Well, as I’ve said, he’s planning another mass killing.†Bertha said, leaning in closer. –They say he muttered about the Potter boy, am I right? I say he plans to kill Potter’s family--you know, the Muggles--and then finish him off as well, to get revenge for his old master. Is anyone protecting Potter’s Muggle family? Certainly not. The Ministry is growing lazy, let me tell you. I mean, the committee they’ve formed to find Black? What a joke. You’ve got to interview them, Rita, you simply must.â€
–Oh, I plan on it,†said Rita, wiping a splatter of green ink off her nose.
–All right, so my third source…what was it? Oh! Black is Potter’s godfather. His godfather! I’m sure you know Cuthbert Mockridge—works with goblins. Well, his assistant tells me that Potter is all set to inherit Black’s entire fortune when he dies. Not entirely sure he wasn’t making it up though, maybe I should’ve just asked Cuthbert…†she muttered.
–No, no, that’s fine. No need to ask Mockridge.†Rita didn’t want to recall her last conversation with him. He didn’t exactly appreciate her exposé on goblin culture she had written last year. –So is that all the information you have on Black?†she asked, changing the subject.
–That’s all I know for now, Rita. You know I’ll update you!†She let out a sharp laugh. Rita flinched and instinctively glanced around the bar. Bertha was her best source for gossip, but it was an embarrassment to meet up with her in public.
–Absolutely.†Rita stowed her quill and notepad in her crocodile handbag as she watched Bertha slurp down the last of her drink. –I must be off, Bertha. Lots of writing to do!†She cringed inwardly as she let her voice imitate Bertha’s habit of expressing herself in sing-song.
–Oh, so soon?â€
–I’m sorry to say I really must be getting home.†She patted Bertha’s hand—which was already reaching for Rita’s untouched drink—and strode out of the pub.
Rita took a few steps down Diagon Alley. She took a deep breath of the freezing air and Apparated into the falling snow. Her feet landed in front of her cosy cottage, which was hidden by a large willow tree.
She screamed. A sharp beak dove at her head repeatedly, and Rita let out a shrill yelp each time it struck. –Get the bloody hell off of me!†she squealed. She danced around on the spot until she felt a small envelope slap her on the nose, and the owl that dropped it let out a hoot and flew off.
Rita spat out a few feathers and looked around her. Did the neighbours see? Maybe some uninvited guests waiting in her sitting room, watching her humiliate herself? She straightened her glasses and smoothed her robes. She quickly flicked her wand at the door and stepped inside. She peeked into the sitting room before she breathed easily.
Rita tossed her handbag on the nearest end table and opened the envelope.
Rita,
Your review of Wilhelm Wigworthy’s new book is ready to appear in tomorrow’s Prophet, next to a photograph of him with his Muggle mistress at a coffee shop in London. Said I’d let you know when it was confirmed.
-Your lovely assistant, Gary
P.S. That owl was the one you hexed when you were eavesdropping on Dumbledore in the Hog’s Head and made me come along. He was not easy to find, but I think you now understand what I was saying about how owls have feelings and excellent memories.
Rita snorted. A few weeks ago she was hoping to write an exposé on the Wizengamot, starting with Dumbledore, but she remembered bitterly that she didn’t hear a word Dumbledore said that evening. She had thought Gary would be an asset to eavesdropping, but transforming was so much better. Beetles can hide anywhere they’d like; they don’t have to settle for the space between the owl’s cage and the storage shed.
She tossed a few pots on the stove, absentmindedly waving her wand in each of them, and settled into her favourite chair, reading over the day’s findings.
Rita Skeeter: Exposed by expelliarmus17
Story Notes:
Thank you to my awesome beta, Ellie/iMusic17 !
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you for reading! Please review my story and I'll return the favor :)