The Malfoy Project

𝟐 - 𝐑𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝟒𝟑, 𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

     I have never met Rita Skeeter before. The classroom seems to shrink in size when she struts in, larger-than-life in her purple-hued robes and eight-inch heels. Her hair is a pile of bright yellow curls, the cylinders neatly stacked on top of each other. Jewelled spectacles perch precariously on her nose, and pulling together the whole outfit is a crocodile-skin handbag, which I know holds her damning acid-green quill.

     We draw a collective breath at the sight of her, and Hermione grows particularly quiet. McGonagall totters closely behind, a look of exhaustion painted on her features.

     Rita pinches the side of her spectacles and peers at us. "What a quaint little... team you've got here, McGonagall." Her voice rings clear and sharp in the silence of the classroom. McGonagall shoots her a withering glare before turning back to us. "Students, this is Rita Skeeter, journalist for the Daily Prophet - although I'm sure she doesn't need any introductions."

     "What's she doing here?" Hermione demands accusatorily, and I briefly recall the condemnatory article Rita penned about her years ago. But unlike Hermione, I'm in complete awe of the gaudy woman before us. Not because I particularly like her - I think her articles were complete tosh - but rather that she works for Britain's biggest wizarding newspaper, something I have always wanted to do since I first learnt to read and write.

     "Ms Skeeter here as a job for one of you-"

     "A job, McGonagall?" Rita interrupts with a scandalised expression. "I'm here today to present to your students the opportunity of a lifetime!" She makes her way to us slowly, flourishing her hands as she speaks.

     "As you already know, The Daily Prophet is the largest wizarding newspaper in our part of the world. Almost every respectable British witch and wizard has a copy on-hand at all times. You may as well call it man's best friend at this point. Now, I'm sure all of you dream of becoming journalists one day, but I can guarantee precisely one of you will end up working for papers like the Prophet, if at all. The rest will simply trickle down the ladder and end up in... lesser rags, like The Quibbler, for instance." She pauses, allowing us to soak that in.

     "And of course, as the Prophet thrives, we're always on the lookout for the crème de la crème of talent, and what better place to find it than at the school with the brightest witches and wizards of our age? So, we have so generously decided to leverage our repertoire and extend this exciting offer to one- lucky- student."

     She presses her palms together and beams at us. We stare at her as the words tumble about in our heads.

     "I'm sorry, Ms Skeeter, but I don't think you mentioned what this 'exciting offer' actually is," Ernie pipes up.

     Her smile widens like he's the stupidest thing in the world. "Why, we're offering you a job at the Daily Prophet, silly! A real job, as a real journalist! After you graduate, of course. You'll scour Britain for the finest stories and spend the rest of your days writing for the best publication in the country. All you have to do is complete a simple assignment for me, and you can have it all."

     I feel like the air had been sucked out of the room. I can hardly believe my luck! Finally, here's my chance to show that I'm the one who has what it takes, and I hadn't even gone looking for it either! It seems to have fallen from the sky right onto my lap.

     My hand has never shot up so fast. "I want to do it."

     Rita strides up, her cloying floral perfume reaching down my throat and threatening to choke me. "And what might your name be, my dear?"