Chapter Two
Rita woke up the next morning in eager anticipation of her complimentary copy of the Daily Prophet. She was enjoying her coffee and gazing out of the window when she saw a tawny owl approaching, zigzagging its way towards her house. It tumbled through her open window and fell to the floor.
She frowned. Before she could get up to see what was wrong with it, the owl swooped up and pecked her hair curlers wildly, the bag on its foot swinging and jangling with money. –Get off, get off, get off!†she yelped.
Her first thought was that Gary had played another prank on her, but then it struck her. This was a regular delivery owl, not her usual owl that only delivered to writers and Ministry higher-ups, free of charge. She hurriedly paid the scruffy owl and struggled with the twine on the newspaper. The owl flew off as she scanned the front page.
She knew not to expect her article on the front page; she hadn’t written a front-pager for many months. But she always checked anyway. It wasn’t on page two, either, or pages three or four. She was losing hope as she flipped through, skimming the headlines faster and faster. Finally, she saw her article on the last page, squeezed into a corner beside the obituaries. The photograph hadn’t been printed large enough; you couldn’t even see that the Muggle mistress was wearing a watch with the Wigworthy family crest on it.
Rita crumpled up the newspaper and stomped to her bedroom to get dressed.
That story was just what my readers want! she thought. Secrets about admired citizens! Nasty remarks about magical and social skills! Photographic evidence!
But my articles have been gaining distance from the front page…maybe people have already heard about this…maybe they only published it out of pity!
Rita stumbled down her front steps as that thought came to her and she hastily reached the end of her walk so she could Apparate, feeling very much out of her usual routine.
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Rita picked up her pace as the crowded Atrium drifted towards the golden gates. It was unnerving to see just how many Ministry workers were reading the Daily Prophet on their way to work. None of them was reading the last page, Rita noticed. She was craning her neck to see what the man beside her was reading until she stumbled on his foot and backed away in response to his dirty look.
The security desk was finally in sight, and Rita broke from the crowd to approach it.
–Hi, Eric.†She smiled sweetly, leaning against the marble desktop.
–Rita,†he grunted. –I don’t want any trouble, now…â€
–Oh, Eric, I’m off the banned list today, check your papers!†she said as cheerily as possible. She knew Eric well—out of the five actual security –incidents†that he has ever dealt with, four of them involved Rita.
Eric gestured for Rita to stop leaning on the desk. She obliged as he pulled out a lavender scroll with the heading –Not Welcome at the Ministry of Magic.†There were three columns: Name, Wand Data, Dates of Ban.
Leaning on the desk once again, Rita jabbed a long, red fingernail at yesterday’s date listed next to –Rita Paige Skeeter; 10 inches, Mahogany, Dragon Heartstring.†Eric let go of the scroll’s edges, letting it curl up and bounce back into the drawer. Rita eagerly pulled her wand out of her purse. Eric verified her wand and sent her away without another word.
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Rita got off of the lift at level two and entered the Auror Headquarters. She tried to ignore the whispers that suddenly replaced talk and laughter and held her head high so that the only things she could see were the flying Ministry memos.
Inevitably, she bumped into an Auror.
–Excuse—†she began.
–Ms Skeeter, you are trespassing,†said a slow, deep voice.
–Not at all, Shacklebolt. My ban is lifted as of today.†She tried to grin at him, but her heart was racing and her smile felt lopsided. The whispers grew louder.
Shacklebolt eyed her. –What can I help you with, Ms Skeeter?†he finally said.
–I just—–She took out her quill. –—have—†She pulled out some parchment. –—a few questions.†Her Quick Quotes Quill was in her mouth, and she was struggling to fasten her purse. She finally got the clasp closed and looked up to see that Shacklebolt had hurried away.
–Wait!†she cried, dropping her quill from her mouth. She stooped to grab it and followed him to his corner cubicle. –I understand that you are in charge of the hunt for Sirius Black. As a member of the press, I believe I have precedence for knowing the latest lead on his whereabouts and—â€
–Ms Skeeter, I refuse to do an interview. I have told you before that—â€
–Do you confirm that Black is likely to be gathering followers, similarly to—â€
–Ms Skeeter,†he continued calmly, –I will not give you a quote.â€
–Exactly how many Aurors are assigned to Black? Do you feel that it is enough to—â€
–Ms. Skeeter, leave this office at once,†said Shacklebolt politely.
–Not a problem.†Rita revealed her gold teeth and swiftly walked away from Shacklebolt.
She approached a cubicle whose occupant was fast asleep, each snore making a black and white photograph of Sirius Black flutter back and forth.
–Excuse me, sir!†she said, leaning close to him.
–What? Huh?†The Auror jumped and looked around. He grimaced when he spotted Rita’s face close to his left ear.
–Seems like you have a minute to spare! What is your exact role in the search for Black? Is there any sign that Black is hiding nearby? How long have you been an Auror? How much funding does Black’s case receive? What is your name and title?†Rita spoke quickly, leaving the sleepy Auror to blink at her and stutter.
–Black’s c-case is f-funded by Azkaban … and er, I’m an Auror … and er, all magical p-public places in Britain have appropriate security in case Black is nearby and—â€
–That’s all I need, thank you!†Rita had spotted Shacklebolt coming towards them and she trotted in the direction of the door, wiping green ink off of the front of her robes. She entered the corridor, relieved that Shacklebolt hadn’t followed her out.
She strode down the long corridor to join the other witches and wizards waiting for the lift. Rita held her breath as she passed the Improper Use of Magic office. The Animagi registry within knew nothing about her, and she wanted to keep it that way.
–Mrs Skeeter!†She heard a voice say. At first she jumped and gave the office door a second glance. She stopped herself. Mrs Skeeter?
Rita surveyed the crowd by the lift and saw her. Her mother.
The voice belonged to a very tall witch, who was now greeting Rita’s mother and shaking her hand. –Lola Skeeter, how good it is to see you!†said the woman.
–How long has it been, Wilma?†crooned Lola. Lola Skeeter was the kind of witch who was always at the Ministry, but wasn’t an employee. Her hair was artistically piled on top of her head, ornamented, and likely held together by magic. Many rings adorned her fingers and she carried no briefcase—clearly, she was a guest at the meeting that just let out, not a worker.
Rita scooted away from them, deeper into the crowd, hoping that they were too absorbed in their chatter to notice her. She wished she could transform. Her mother wouldn’t go within ten feet of a beetle.
–Rita!†cried Lola. She grabbed her from the crowd and pulled her to her side in one fluid movement. A few jostled Ministry workers muttered to each other, but Rita tried not to notice.
–Wilma, this is my daughter, Rita. You have, of course, met her cousins, but this is the Ravenclaw of the family.†She said –Ravenclaw†in a loud whisper. Lola and Wilma shared a chuckle as Rita shook Wilma’s hand reluctantly.
–Yes, yes,†continued Lola. –Five generations of Slytherins, but not Rita. She’s a writer, so you know how that goes.†Wilma nodded knowingly.
Bullshit, Rita thought. Her maternal grandmother was a Hufflepuff, but of course, that wasn’t discussed. Neither was her mother nearly getting kicked out of Hogwarts for vandalism of the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s locker room. That was all covered up by a –family contribution†to the school board.
–But I haven’t seen much of your stuff in the Prophet lately. I thought you had quite the following.†Lola raised an eyebrow at Rita, expectantly.
Ding! The lift arrived, and Rita scooted between two bickering Aurors to the very back of the lift. She caught a glimpse of her mother’s hair ornament near the doors, and let out a sigh of relief as the lift ascended.
–Rita! Oh, how I’ve missed you!†chirped Gary. Rita had just arrived back at the Daily Prophet headquarters, already ignoring her assistant. –I’ve been editing in such a quiet, lonely office, without any ruined reputations to slow me down!â€
Rita could still hear him as she entered her office and dropped her purse onto the pile of post, including several already-burnt Howlers.
–Whatever would I do if you wrote an honest piece? I’d be lost,†he continued, poking his head in her doorway. She rolled her eyes again.
–I’m not in the mood, Gary.†She turned away from him, grabbed a quill and a roll of parchment off her desk, and pretended to be jotting down important notes.
–There’s no ink in that quill,†Gary pointed out, smirking.
Rita turned around, fumbling with the quill and parchment and smoothing her robes. –Do you need something, Gary?â€
–No, just in the mood for a chat.†He sat in her chair, putting his feet up on the desk, and picked up an envelope from the pile. –Ahem. ‘Dear Rita, You are ugly and just jealous of Mr Wigworthy’s lover.’ Wow, she’s included a diagram of you. I didn’t know you grew horns, is that back in fashion now?â€
He was waving the crude sketch in front of her, but Rita wouldn’t look. She sat on the edge of her desk, picking at her fingernails.
–Come on, now, Rita.†He put the letter down and placed a hand on her shoulder. –What’s wrong? Did something happen at the Ministry?â€
–They’ve taken me off the complimentary list,†she whispered.
–What’s that?â€
–They’ve taken me off the complimentary list,†she repeated, her voice barely louder.
–Who’s taken you where?â€
–My Prophets are not free anymore!†she shouted –I gave my money to a dirty bird in order to read my own writing in the butt end of the Prophet! My readers have dwindled, my career is slowing, and my mother is still on my arse about everything!â€
Rita stood up from the desk, chest heaving. –And I never read those bloody letters, you know that.†She waved her wand at them. They vanished.
Al’s eyes were wide and he appeared to have been rendered speechless. Then a smile crept onto his lips. –Wait … that owl I sent delivered the Daily Prophet to you? Nice.â€
Rita took two strides out of her office and aimed a wand at Gary’s desk. His papers flew in tight, tornado-like spirals, knocking ink bottles off his desk.
–Hey! Rita! I was only kidding!â€
Rita shut the door of the editor’s department as she entered the main room. A huddle of printer mechanics was talking in serious tones by the door.
–That’s what I heard; he owled me this morning.â€
–But I thought that they had security against Sirius Black getting in!â€
–Yeah, that’s why he and the other students were so shocked. I’m glad my son’s in Hufflepuff; Black headed straight for the Gryffindor dormitory.â€
Rita stopped, pretending to have difficulties with the clasp on her purse.
–Apparently, there’s going to be an inquiry by the Ministry. Those dementors were supposed to take care of this sort of—Rita! Do you know anything about this?â€
Rita’s head snapped up. A short man with a large moustache was waiting for her reply, while the others looked on. She recognized him, but hoped that he wouldn’t expect her to remember his name.
–I plan to find out,†she said, smiling, as she hurried out the door.
Rita Skeeter: Exposed by expelliarmus17
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you for reading! Please review :)