#wilstarter

Rita loved her job. It was rare that she preferred to spend any time at all away from the busy offices of the Daily Prophet. The smells, the noise, the hustle, no part of it did anything but make her feel at ease. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fathom eating lunch at her desk like so many of her coworkers did. To her, eating and work should always be separate events. In addition to which, what if she got crumbs on her newest article? Or in her ink pot?! No, it was untenable, she couldn’t do it. It was far better to go out for lunch every day.

An added benefit to going out was the possibility of overhearing someone’s gossip-laden conversation. It was rare that she heard anything good, and so far nothing had been article worthy, but that didn’t mean she never would. To give herself the best chances, she liked to go to the Leaky Cauldron. It was often busy at lunch, so she would try to find a table near a large group of people -- ideally a two-top which had had one of its seats stolen by said large group -- and spend her lunch break alternately trying to hone in on individual conversations, and scanning the room at large trying to pick out keywords. Even though nothing had come of it yet, it was good practice.

But today when she walked in, she realized almost immediately that finding any table at all would be more difficult that usual -- every single table had at least one person sitting at it. She stood for a few minutes, looking around the room constantly and hopefully, but no one stood. Eventually, she had to accept that it was unlikely anyone would be leaving soon, so she reviewed her options. There were other restaurants in Diagon Alley, of course. But if the Leaky was this busy, she couldn’t count on anywhere else being less so, and anyway, the staff here knew her order. Perks of being a regular customer. Eventually, someone would have to leave, so she could just continue to wait. The problem there was that she didn’t have unlimited time for lunch, and there was no way to know how long it would take for someone to leave.

The third option seemed to be her only one, so she walked quickly across the room to a table with only one person at it, preparing to ingratiate herself with them using her most charming self.

Prefect Patrol the evening after the Quidditch Grand Final was likely the most despised shift of the entire year. Half of the prefects were bound to be looking forward to celebrating their team’s win (though a quarter of them would instead be drowning their sorrows), and the other half either preferred to be squirrelled away avoiding the revelry, or somehow finding their way to the middle of it. 

Narcissa had not thought quickly enough to get out of it, and as a Slytherin, had no real excuse for avoiding the duty. 

She was presently stationed outside of the kitchens, watching students come and go as music wafted in and out of the party as the door opened and closed. She supposed that she was probably supposed to be shutting down the event. But that seemed like an awful lot of work for very little personal gain. Instead, she was standing just far enough away to quickly usher any nosey professors in the opposite direction which she thought would be the best course of action for all involved. Not that she really expected any to appear; they probably turned a blind eye to this sort of thing, many of them having been students there once upon a time themselves. 

“It’s down the hall,” she said when she heard footsteps approaching her. “In the kitchen. The door is opening often enough you will no doubt be let in right away.”

@goingxstag

Ideally, James Potter’s ego would make him a much, much more pleasant candidate for interview than his blushing bride. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances, so she made plans to trap him as well if necessary. This was the first major wedding she was covering and she planned to get a damn good article out of at least one of them, if she had to die trying!

Well, maybe not quite that far.

Unfortunately, she didn’t actually know where he liked to spend his time. She’d spent too much effort on Lily and hadn’t had a chance to research James yet, so her best plan for now was simply to knock on his front door. Which she did. Hard. As soon as it opened, she stuck a foot inside and spoke quickly, not pausing for breath or mental punctuation -- fingers crossed he was another sexist man with a hero complex and would refuse to risk hurting her by slamming the door on her foot.

@evanrosier-wil

This was shaping up to be quite possibly the worst piece Rita had ever written in her entire life. Including her very first ever “interview” with her older sister at age eight.

She supposed it was just what she got for being so stupidly talented. Whoever’s idea this had been, though, Rita intended to find and hide somewhere very far away where they could never submit such ridiculous proposals ever again. Honestly, an “eligible bachelor” profile? On Evan Rosier?! It was preposterous and had no business in the paper, even if it was for her Valentine’s series. But someone, somewhere, wanted it done, and so she had no choice but to do it.

He was going to be absolutely unbearable about the whole thing.

They’d agreed to have the interview in a mostly public place. It would make it much more difficult to get away with hexing one another, no matter how badly she wanted to. So she sat in a semi-secluded corner booth at a restaurant in Diagon Alley, and waited for him with a distinctly unpleasant scowl on her face -- which only deepened when he appeared.

@bellatrix-whoisleft

Bellatrix Lestrange -- or Bellatrix Black, as some may remember her -- was imprisoned several years ago for the torture and permanent psychological damage of Frank and Alice Longbottom. That crime was clearly enough to warrant her lifelong sentence in the most secure portion of Azkaban, but what many don’t know is, that was not even remotely her most heinous offense.

This reporter was allowed into the depths of the world’s most terrifying prison for an interview. Though merely setting foot on the island put my own life in grave danger, I persevered for the sake of the truth. You, my readers, deserve to know the full extent of the crimes committed by this woman -- though after all is said and done, you may wonder whether she still deserves to be counted among the fairer sex.

Not long before the tragedy that befell the Longbottoms, we all remember the fateful night the Potters fell at the hands of Sirius Black, whom I also interviewed several years ago. The secret that was never revealed until my own conversation with Bellatrix: she was there as well. It was her own wand, not You-Know-Who’s, nor Sirius Black’s, who murdered Lily Potter while her sweet baby Harry screamed for his mother. Bellatrix bragged about this. What kind of woman takes pleasure in taking a mother from her child? I suppose, one who doesn’t believe the child will live much longer to care. The interview was, at that point, far too nauseating for me to ask for more details of that night.

Further, Mrs. Lestrange, wife to the eldest son of the Lestrange family, admitted to having had a very close -- even ‘intimate’ -- relationship with her Dark Lord himself. Apparently, the bonds of her marriage bed were simply not enough to contain her deviant behavior. This portion of the interview held what I would describe as the only true emotion Bellatrix showed for the duration of our time together -- regret. She admitted that she’d hoped to fall pregnant with You-Know-Who’s heir and was unable to do so. 

Now, under normal circumstances, I would feel immense sympathy for any woman with fertility problems. However, I can not find myself able to commiserate with someone who wanted to continue the line of such a madman. More of that evil in the world? And raised by this woman, a woman willing to murder indiscriminately and torture with no remorse? I shudder at the thought.

These, among many, many other crimes, create the full picture of Bellatrix Lestrange. These are heinous enough, but the ones I dare not print. . . dear readers, I wish I did not possess them within my own mind, and will not subject you to the same terrors I know. Simply put, we should all be very grateful that Bellatrix Lestrange is imprisoned in the one place that can never be escaped.

~~~~~~~~~

@lily-evans-wil

Merlin some people were hard to catch up to! Never had Rita had to work so hard in her life to corner someone for some questions about the happiest day of their godforsaken lives. Ridiculous!

Finally, finally, though, she believed she finally had Lily Evans trapped. Rita had seen her enter this store, so she had to be around somewhere, and there might have been a small bribe to the owner of the shop to keep any redheaded women from leaving.

She stalked around products like someone attempting to catch a particularly skittish bird. It was undignified and frankly ludicrous that she had to stoop so low. Finally, she saw her, and cast a quick shield spell to (hopefully) keep Lily from running away. After chasing the woman around town for weeks, she was running dangerously low on patience.

@andromedablack-wil

Tact was not something Rita Skeeter had ever been known for possessing. Being tactful just wasn’t a reasonable way to do business, in her opinion. And really, with a story as large as the first ever escape from Azkaban by Sirius Black, surely it simply made sense to interview one of his last living relatives.

So she tracked down the address of one Andromeda Tonks and owled for an interview, fully prepared to ‘steal’ one anyway if necessary. She was a bit pleasantly surprised when Mrs. Tonks agreed, but it certainly made things easier. It could be so very dull hanging around people’s houses as a bug, hoping they said something useful, but sacrifices must be made -- luckily, however, not in this case.

The house she approached seemed more modest than Rita would’ve expected. But then, everything seemed modest when compared to the palatial manor houses of the pureblood elite, and Andromeda had been disowned all those years ago. Perhaps she simply couldn’t afford anything nicer. Rita had absolutely no idea what Mr. Tonks did for work, or if Mrs. Tonks worked at all. Questions upon questions.

@sirius-whoisleft

Most people would balk at exploiting tragedy to further their own agendas, wouldn’t they? That certainly seemed like a ‘most people’ kind of mindset. Rita hadn’t ever understood that -- particularly as a journalist. The people needed information, and the official news reports didn’t often have enough of it to satiate the public’s thirst. They wanted details, color. . . blood.

The story she was preparing for the anniversary of You-Know-Who’s downfall would certainly give them what they wanted. And if it happened to be the biggest story of Rita’s career and launched her to the top of public interest, well, that was just a side effect of doing what no one else would, wasn’t it?

It had taken more than a few favors, string pulling, and bribes, by Rita herself as well as her bosses, to arrange the interview. If she could get anything useful, though, it would be more than worth it.

If only she could’ve been allowed to have the prisoner moved to a less depressing area. Of course, it was impossible, and Rita valued her life far too much to push very hard, but all the same she was grateful for her escorts keeping the Dementors at bay while she worked. Conducting an interview through bars was less than ideal, but at least she would be able to enjoy some parts of it.

Her escorts delivered her to the cell and retreated a very short distance, likely more so Rita wouldn’t feel crowded than for any illusion of privacy. Her Quick Quotes Quill was already hard at work, having been specially charmed for the occasion to describe the interior of the prison. Most of the Wizarding population wouldn’t ever be here, after all, and were likely ravenously curious.