Y/n's POV
Flash.
Rita Skeeter's bright camera flashed in my face blinding me for a couple seconds.
"What a charismatic group." Rita spoke.
"Your outfit is... questionable." I spoke eyeing it skeptically. It really was an ugly outfit. "You look like you could be apart of 101 Dalmatians." I muttered more to myself but Cedric seemed to hear as he attempted to stifle a laugh.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes at me.
I was sitting in the chair while everyone else stood behind me. Fleur wanted the chair but I told her no and she didn't listen so I threw her off the chair.
"Hello. I'm Rita Skeeter. I write for the Daily Prophet." She spoke while shaking all of their hands when it got to me I just waved at her and she slowly slid away.
Thank you wand-less magic!
"Wand-less magic?" She spoke shocked. For a fourth year, I was pretty advanced. I nodded while holding an obviously reaction.
"But of course you know that, don't you?" She spoke.
"No I don't. Surprised people actually read it." I smiled.
"It's you we don't know." She ignored me. "Heh. You're the juicy news." She continued talking. It felt like an endless loop.
"What quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks?" Rita spoke while stroking Fleur's cheeks.
"What mysteries do the muscles mask?" Rita spoke while eyeing Krum.
Gross.
"Does courage lie beneath those curls?" She spoke while ruffling Cedric's hair. "In short, what makes a champion tick?" She finished.
"Could have said that in the beginning-" I began.
"Me, Myself, and I want to know." Rita spoke smirking in between Cedric and Fleur. "Not to mention my rabid readers. So who's feeling up to sharing?" She finished. Everyone was silent. "Hm?" She asked.
"Shall we start with the youngest?" Rita asked. Before anyone could respond she responded to herself, "Lovely." She dragged me into a broom closet.
What the actual fuck.
Couldn't she ask to see us each individually then if this was how she was going to interview us?
"Hm. This is cozy." Rita spoke smiling. Way to close for my liking.
"Uh, it's an abandoned broom cupboard." I pointed out.
"You should feel right at home, then." She spoke and pushed me deeper into the broom cupboard.
"Excuse me-"
"Don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?" She asked.
"Oh, um... no." I spoke shrugging and taking a seat on some boxes.
"So tell me, Y/n. Here you sit, a mere girl of 12-"
"I'm 14. Sorry." I corrected rather rudely.
"-about to compete against three students, not only vastly more emotionally mature than yourself, but who have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams." Rita spoke and paused for my response.
I sat there baffled at what she was insinuating.
"Concerned?" She asked.
"No. Actually, I feel pretty confident in this tournament. I am a very skilled witch and pretty advanced in my year. There are spells that all three of them can do that I can probably do even better. I'm a smart witch." I spoke confidently as the quill wrote everything down.
"Then of course, you're no ordinary girl of 12, are you?" Rita asked.
"Fourteen-"
"Your story's legend. Do you think it was your abandonment trauma of your past that made you so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament?" She asked.
"And do you think it was being attention deprived during your childhood that made you so keen to create such lousy newspaper that no one reads?" I sassed her back. "And for the last time, I did NOT enter the tournament. I don't know why I got picked."
"Of course you didn't. Everyone loves a rebel, Y/n." Rita spoke eyeing me down. "I'm sure theirs a love interest somewhere in there." She spoke while pointing her finger at where my heart should be.
"No. There isn't." I spoke clearly. She just chuckled.
"Speaking of your father-"
"No one said anything about my dad." I spoke confused.
"-were he present in your life, how do you think he'd feel? Proud? Or concerned that your attitude shows, at best, a pathological need for attention... at worst, a psychotic death wish?" She spoke trying to look concerned for me.
"Hey! My eyes aren't 'glistening with the ghost of my past' ." I spoke angry. "And you better keep my father and his name out of your god damn newspaper or I will gut you like a fish!" I snapped. She sat there frightened by my tone.
"Do you understand?!" I questioned. She nodded quickly and I huffed and got up while angrily walking out the broom cupboard and stomping to go find Luna to rant too.
The other champions just look confused as to why I seemed so angry.
"Why so angry, Y/n?" Krum asked.
"Has the nerve to bring up my father. The tournament and interview is about ME! But it seems all anyone cares about is my stupid dad." I spoke and walked away while completely ignoring his protests to come back.
YOU ARE READING
someone is bound to get burned...
FanfictionY/n Grindelwald a pure-blood witch, also the daughter of THE Gellert Grindelwald. Being taken away from her father at a very young age and her father being locked up shortly after. Y/n was given to an orphanage to be raised. Y/n was bullied at the o...
