It was another day of dreary skies, with a persistent drizzle falling relentlessly.
Today, Gilderoy Lockhart had, for once, granted the young wizards a reprieve from his company, giving everyone a holiday. This was because he had an interview scheduled with Rita Skeeter, the famed journalist from the Daily Prophet, a meeting for which he was late by three chapters (033).
Having held the top spot on the bestseller list for six consecutive years was truly a momentous achievement, and it was the perfect occasion to further elevate his personal brand. In truth, the timing was already a bit delayed, but with Dumbledore tightening his grip on Hogwarts, it had taken Rita a painstaking seven letters, each brimming with earnest pleas, to secure this opportunity.
"Oh, my dear young scholar," Rita began to lament the moment she burst through the door, "you've been utterly disloyal this time! If I couldn't get in, couldn't you have chosen a different location for the interview? Perhaps Hogsmeade Village?"
She was a witch of about forty years, impeccably dressed in a sharp, form-fitting azure gown. As she spoke, she casually tossed her small satchel and a rolled-up newspaper onto the table, then proceeded to primp her golden, voluminous hair in the dressing mirror beside the office.
Lockhart merely shrugged, stepping out from behind his desk to settle onto a nearby tree stump. This spot was once a magnificent tree, inadvertently destroyed by Goyle's spell during the Duelling Club. Malfoy and his cronies had tried to salvage it, only to finish it off entirely. Then, Cedric Diggory from fourth year, unable to bear the sight, had magically transformed it into a tree stump tea table, perfect for brewing and enjoying a comforting cup of tea, serving as a tranquil little corner.
At this moment, the red tea had cooled to a perfect temperature, ideal for sipping. He poured a cup for Rita and one for himself, took a long drink, not bothered by her complaints. "You know, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts has been cursed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I simply must be cautious; I wouldn't dare roam about carelessly."
"This is a matter that truly deserves attention!" Rita's eyes gleamed as she pushed up her jewel-encrusted spectacles, reaching for the notepad in her satchel.
"Dumbledore clearly dislikes anyone discussing that," Lockhart interjected with a smile, offering a gentle reminder. "You know, it causes him no end of trouble with recruiting professors each year."
"Oh!" Rita rolled her eyes, tossing her satchel back onto the table. Her gaze then drifted to the manuscripts scattered across the desk, picking one up with an air of curiosity.
Beyond her journalistic prowess, she was also a writer, and while she didn't quite approve of Lockhart's creative direction, she possessed a keen eye for assessing the quality of a manuscript.
Ah, her own creative direction…
Rita's most notorious exploits in the original story were the biographies she penned about three successive headmasters of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and remarkably, she managed to escape with her life!
Armando Dippet: Master or Moron?
The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore
Severus Snape: Villain or Saint?
Beyond these, she also penned a biography of Harry Potter, Dumbledore's Army: The Dark Side of the Demob, and Man or Beast? The True Story of Newt Scamander.
She seemed to possess an innate understanding of whom she could provoke and whom she could not. Dumbledore, after reading her articles, merely muttered that they were "charmingly irritating," and Newt, after she wrote that fabricated biography about him, simply clarified certain statements in the latest edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Hmm…
Lockhart's assessment of this was that the dregs of Ravenclaw each possessed their own unique flair for courting disaster. Back at the Hibiscus Ravenclaw alumni gathering, they used to joke amongst themselves that they would likely not end up in Azkaban, but rather, would more probably be done in by some vengeful wizard in a shadowy alley.
Gilderoy Lockhart was one such individual.
Mundungus Fletcher was another (17 chapters, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a thief, and a dealer in stolen goods).
Rita Skeeter was precisely the same sort.
She was consistently adept at twisting facts, serving the Daily Prophet readers with the most sensational news they craved. She reported whatever her readers desired, even if the content was fabricated, and even if readers sometimes suspected these stories were indeed inventions. Yet, people simply adored reading them.
Her favorite pastime was to target famous figures. Sometimes, to unearth firsthand information, she would even resort to transforming into an Animagus beetle to eavesdrop, or use Veritaserum, a potion strictly forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, to coerce important figures into revealing their deepest secrets. She was a truly wicked individual, yet remarkably useful when handled correctly. Rita was the kind of big-shot journalist who could effortlessly save the sales of The Quibbler with a single article.
"Merlin's beard!" Rita gasped, her eyes blazing as she stared at a manuscript in her hands. "What in the name of magic am I seeing?!"
The manuscript contained nothing but the book's title and the list of creators, yet she shrieked, "Harry Potter? Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived?!"
Lockhart quietly motioned for the startled Dark creatures to return to their humble abodes, urging Rita to calm herself and take a seat to enjoy her tea.
Rita appeared so utterly exhilarated that her teacup trembled, spilling a few droplets onto her attire. Yet, she merely stared wide-eyed at Lockhart, chattering incessantly. "Gilderoy, you have no idea how long I've wanted to interview Harry Potter!"
"Back then, he was just a little tyke living on Privet Drive, and his life seemed utterly miserable. He wore ill-fitting hand-me-downs, his hair looked as if a dog had chewed it, and he was tormented by his cousin and his gang of ruffians."
She rolled her eyes. "The Boy Who Lived enduring such a tragic childhood—it would simply make countless people weep! I simply had to let everyone know this news. But then Dumbledore found me, and he sternly warned that if I dared disturb Harry Potter's life, I would face terrible consequences."
Well, she knew, not every witch or wizard possessed the impeccable fashion sense that she and Lockhart did. Most wizards had no idea how a Muggle should dress to appear normal, and many witches and wizards who had sought out young Harry didn't find anything amiss with his appearance. When she interviewed some wizards back then, some even thought Harry's attire was rather cool.
Lockhart offered a slight smile, raising his teacup in a silent toast, taking a small sip. "Evidently, you complied, and it's quite fortunate you're still with us."
"Hey!" Rita scowled, clearly displeased. "That completely goes against the fundamental principles of journalism! The Boy Who Lived shouldn't have to endure such a life. It truly broke my heart."
"Oh, come off it," Lockhart said, disinclined to bicker with her further, pulling the conversation back to the matter of the book. "What do you think of this book?"
"It's absolutely brilliant!"
"Yes, it truly couldn't be more perfect!"