Chapter 72: A Reporter's Visit
Rita Skeeter swept into Hogwarts with the air of someone who had just stepped in something foul. She glared at the hunched form of Argus Filch. "Be a dear and fetch my luggage. This place is a dreadful bore."
Filch, muttering under his breath, scrambled to obey. Rita, not sparing him another glance, strutted into the castle, her Quick-Quotes Quill darting eagerly beside her like an over-excited insect.
She despised being here. But the latest edition of The Quibbler had caused an uproar, and Cornelius Fudge himself had personally demanded she be the one to 'correct the narrative'. The Ministry needed its favored attack dog, and Rita Skeeter, with her talent for twisting truths into sensational, Ministry-friendly lies, was it.
To pave her way, the Ministry had issued Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five the day before: All students must submit to interviews arranged by the High Inquisitor. All statements must be made in a spirit of honest and unbiased truth-seeking. No student may give interviews to any publication without the High Inquisitor's express permission.
It was a gag order, pure and simple, dressed up as responsible journalism. Fudge was ensuring the only story coming out of Hogwarts would be his story.
Rita's arrival didn't go unnoticed. Students whispered as the garish, famously vicious reporter passed by, forcing a tight, crocodile smile onto her face.
"Rita Skeeter is here," Hermione said, falling into step with Elian as they left Potions. Her voice was low with concern.
Elian blinked. "Who?"
Hermione stared. "The Daily Prophet reporter! The one who butchered Harry's interview during the Triwizard Tournament! Most of the Ministry's smear campaigns come from her quill!"
"Ah. That Rita Skeeter." The image of the woman with the elaborate curls and jeweled spectacles clicked into place. "The one who looks like a younger, even less pleasant Umbridge."
"Exactly. Luna says her father's magazine sold out because of our interviews. The Ministry noticed. This is their counter-move."
Elian shrugged. "It was inevitable. That new Decree was the warning shot. Fudge can't have a fringe magazine telling a more popular truth than his propaganda arm. He's bringing in the big gun to retake the narrative."
"You're not worried?" Hermione asked, studying his calm face.
"About what? Being misquoted? Being made to look foolish?" He gave her a faint, knowing smile. "Let her try. Some stories are harder to twist than others. And some people," he added, glancing at her, "are harder to intimidate."
Hermione huffed, a familiar mix of frustration and grudging admiration. "You always have an answer."
"I try." They walked in companionable silence for a moment before he added, "She's here for damage control. For Fudge. For Umbridge. We just have to make sure the damage she's controlling isn't ours."
In Umbridge's oppressively pink office, two kindred spirits in manipulation greeted each other.
"My dear Rita!" Umbridge simpered, her toad-like face stretched in a smile. "How dreadful you had to travel at such an hour! We have so much to discuss."
Rita Skeeter's answering smile was all sharp, professional glee. "The pleasure is all mine, Dolores. I do so love a story with… educational value."
Their laughter tinkled, cold and false, in the frilly room. The stage was set for the next act in the Ministry's war on truth.
(End of Chapter)
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