HARRY POTTER STORY: Lions in snake den

Part 24

In a dimly lit corner of the Slytherin common room, Blaise, Tracey, and Theo huddled close, their voices low as they plotted their next move.

"So," Tracey started, twirling a strand of hair thoughtfully, "we want Skeeter to chase her tail a bit. Just enough that she's interested but doesn't have any concrete facts."
Theo leaned back, a grin slowly spreading. "How about we make her think there's a rivalry brewing between old families, but something more clandestine? Like... stakes in the tournament's outcome." Blaise's eyes gleamed with intrigue. "That could work. But we don't mention the champions directly. Instead, we hint that these 'alliances' are all about family loyalties and reputation."

"Perfect," Tracey agreed, nodding. "And we add that it's all been happening quietly, in a spot she wouldn't expect. Maybe... the unused room off the Charms corridor?" Theo chuckled. "She'd take the bait for sure. She'll think there's a secret meeting place. It's vague enough to spark her curiosity but not enough for her to corner us with facts."
They all laughed, imagining the frustrated look on Skeeter's face as she tried to unravel a mystery with no clear answers.
"Alright," Blaise said, straightening up with a satisfied smirk. "I'll meet her in the courtyard and give her just enough to keep her interested." With a final nod, Blaise made his way out of the common room, his steps light with anticipation as he crossed the castle.

By the time he reached the courtyard, Rita Skeeter was already waiting, her Quick-Quotes Quill poised in the air above a blank scroll of parchment, her eyes sharp with curiosity.

"Blaise Zabini," she greeted, her voice dripping with eager charm. "I hear there's plenty of excitement among the Slytherins this year. Wouldn't you like to share a little something with The Daily Prophet?"
Blaise flashed his most charming grin, leaning against a nearby column as if he had all the time in the world. "Oh, I don't know, Rita. You wouldn't believe half of what's been going on if I told you." "Oh, try me," she pressed, her Quick-Quotes Quill already scribbling away in impatient anticipation. "I happen to believe quite a lot, Mr. Zabini." Blaise chuckled softly, casting a quick glance around to create an air of secrecy. "Alright. Let's just say... things are different now that the Potters are in Slytherin. Old alliances are shifting. Certain families are quietly taking notice, and, well... alliances are forming."

Skeeter's eyes narrowed, and her quill scratched furiously. "Are you implying there's a hidden agenda among some of these old families?" He shrugged, looking casual but clearly pleased with her reaction. "All I'll say is, family loyalties run deep, and some people important people might have more at stake in this tournament than you realize. But," he added, lowering his voice just slightly, "it's less about friendship and more about... necessity." Skeeter leaned forward, her eyes alight with excitement. "And are the Potters—Harry and Hermione—involved in all of this? Working with Slytherin families, perhaps?" Blaise's smirk widened, giving her just enough of a pause to make it seem like he was holding back something significant. "Maybe. But some of these alliances don't stop with Slytherins. There are rumors of certain Gryffindor families trying to keep up, if you catch my drift. But honestly, Rita, you didn't hear it from me."
Skeeter's quill flew over the parchment. "Really? Gryffindors too?" Blaise shrugged again, his expression deliberately vague."Strange times, aren't they? And... I hear that if you're interested, there's been talk of private meetings in that old room off the Charms corridor. Very discreet spot, I'd say."

Skeeter's mouth curved into a gleeful smile, clearly delighted by the prospect of a secret meeting location. "And have you been to any of these meetings?" "Oh, that would be telling." Blaise winked. "But let's just say I know who goes in and out of that room and they're not the types you'd expect to see together." He could see the gears turning in Skeeter's mind, her quill practically carving into the parchment now. He could almost hear her mentally constructing a story, a scandalous mix of rivalry, secrecy, and alliances that had just enough truth to be plausible.