Marauders - Always - Part One

CLXVI: The Scoop

Declan Alectric had stood at the back of the Great Hall watching the proceedings as the Goblet of Fire chose the champions. His arms crossed over his chest, staring at the hewn-wood cup. He shook his head when the Cup drew Cedric Diggory's name and jotted down his observations on a small notepad he pulled from his pocket, trying to remain as discreet as possible with his bright blue hair. Technically, press had not been invited - but he'd come with Oliver Kent, so he had a secret way in to get the scoop. It was privileges like this that had secured him the position of athletic correspondent at the Daily Prophet - Declan's connection to Oliver had long gotten him a bit ahead.

Now, he was at his desk at the Prophet, looking over the notes he took in the notepad, writing the article that would announce Harry Potter as the unexpected fourth champion. His fingers flew over the magical typewriter keys as he worked, their loud clicking filling his cubical as George Michael smiled up at him from the mug on his desk. He had tacked photos of all four Champions up on the fabric wall and spellotaped bits of paper with their names on them so he wouldn't forget.

Suddenly there was a knock against his cubical wall and he looked up to find Rita Skeeter smiling at him as she leaned against it, her horrid lime-green glasses framing her face and her hot-pink lips garishly bright, washing out her skin rather dreadfully. Declan wondered if he'd get fired if he told her that her pores were so big that at this angle they showed through the layers of caked-on liquid foundation she wore?

"Hi Deccy," Rita purred, smiling at him with amusement.

"I'm busy Rita, you'll have to go annoy some other poor bloke," Declan said. "I have a deadline."

Rita's smile only grew more wicked. "Oh," she said, "What story are you working on?" She batted her magically enhanced lashes at him.

Declan didn't even look up, "The Triwizard Tournament of course. They announced the champions earlier tonight and --"

"You mean Krum, Delacor, Diggory, and Potter?"

Declan's eyes pulled from his typewriter, which continued on clicking noisily as he swiveled in his hair, crossed one leg over the other, and stared up at her. "How do you know that already?"

"One who's been assigned to a particular topic ought to know all the details of their topic, don't you think?" Rita cooed, grinning as she looked at her nails.

"What?"

"Didn't you hear? Because of my outstanding achievement covering the World Cup during the summer, Smudgley assigned me to cover the Tournament! Can you believe it?" Rita pressed her palm to her heart in incredulity. "I've never been asked to cover such a large story before, I told Smudgley, I do hope I'll be able to do it justice! And he said of course you will Rita; he was positively popping with good things to say about me..."

Declan's ears had stopped functioning properly after the declaration that Smudgely had assigned her to the Tournament.

He pushed himself backward quickly, getting up out of his seat and hustling down the aisle between cubicles, Rita Skeeter buzzing after him as he moved, her mouth curved in a grin of pure entertainment, her high heels clicking on the floor all the way through the Prophet and right into the Editor's wing. Declan banged on Smudgley's door but didn't wait to be invited in.

Andy Smudgley sat behind his desk looking rather frazzled, his hair a disheveled mess and his desk unorganized. He plucked papers up, looked them over, and muttered to himself as he shuffled through them. He looked up with surprise at the intrusion when Declan Alectric and Rita Skeeter entered his office. He raised his eyebrow - these two were always in his office trying to settle arguments. "I know what you're here for Alectric and I don't have time for you right now, you'll have to come back and fight with me tomorrow."