A Dance In The Moonlight

Chapter Forty-Nine- Robin Smith

I didn't know much about the wizarding world still but I did know a lot about the Daily Prophet and Robin Smith thanks to Professor Fig. During the summer of my training before I would even know of ancient magic or my friends, I would learn everything over breakfast while Professor Fig told me everything.

He thought Robin Smith was a real nut case. Going on and on about Ranrok's rebellion and saying that his rebelling was just a rumor and nothing to take serious. Even then, Professor Fig knew whatever she wrote was utter nonsense. Still- I wondered why he would continue to read the papers if he didn't believe in them.

That's why when Professor Weasley informed each of us that she would be coming to Hogwarts to conduct interviews on the House Cup Tournament, I was less than excited. Poppy could be excited for the both of us. I wasn't sure why the Daily Prophet would be interested in such a thing though. Sure, it's the first time it's been turned into an actual tournament but the House Cup competitions have been around since the Founders.

Still, we had to sit in the Great Hall waiting for her to appear. It was quite odd seeing it empty with the long tables bare. Not even the typical light show above had anything particularly exciting about it. Professor Weasley stood by the podium, tapping her fingers away at the wooden stand. Edward and I sat at the end of the Gryffindor table with me on it and Edward sitting in one of the seats.

Albion, the Ravenclaw champion, sat at the Ravenclaw table polishing his golden framed glasses and fixing his hair. I suppose he wanted to look his best for Robin. What his reputation implies- he wasn't excited about the interview portion but probably more to try and get Robin alone.

As far as Hugh, the Gryffindor champion, he paced back and forth in front of Professor Weasley. Biting his nails nervously, he refused to take his eyes off the ground, as if worried he'd trip onto his own feet. Poppy finally told me about him- a descendent of one of the past Ministers, Maxamilian Crowdy. People say he looks identical to his grandfather but I couldn't confirm or deny it. Why would he even be nervous anyway? Wouldn't he live for this kind of stuff?

"Professor Weasley, if Ms. Smith isn't here in five minutes, can I return to class?" I asked, officially bored of waiting. Professor Weasley pulled us from our classes an hour ago, stating that Robin Smith was supposed to be here thirty minutes later.

Professor Weasley sighed, closing her eyes and pushing up her glasses. From the looks of things, she herself looked annoyed at the tardiness of our reporter. Perhaps something more interesting like a dark wizard attempting to steal from Gringotts is what kept her late. Whatever it was, I silently hoped she wouldn't appear.

As if coming on a silent cue, both giant doors swung open and in the middle stood a woman around the same age, but with less wrinkles, than Professor Weasley. Her honey blonde hair was hidden under an odd looking large peach colored hat. Her same colored dress, tight on the torso but puffy on the arms showed no skin. Even her skinny but almost nonexistent neck was covered by a peach collared bow and a cream lace. On her shoulders was clipped a velvet emerald cape with shiny gold trimming, making her look more rich than I'm sure she actually was. Her porcelain skin made her look deathly ill and fake.

"Matilda! How are you my old friend?" She asked, practically skipping past us and going straight to Professor Weasley to hug. Her voice was thick and low, even trying to sound like the people who lived in west London.

"I'm fine Robin. These are the students that you were supposed to interview... thirty minutes ago." Professor Weasley clearly knew this woman on a personal level to feel comfortable enough to lecture a woman that was clearly her age. Robin spun around and threw the cape onto the floor, awing as she looked upon each of our faces.