Daily Prophet one shot challenge
by coppercurls of Hufflepuff house
A large banner over the door proudly proclaims, “Potter Press Conference.” However, the room itself is nearly impossible to find, tucked away in the back corner of this glass and steel office building. Inside, a large conference table lies prepared, a few sunbeams darting across the papers on its surface. As the newest reporter for the Daily Prophet, I sit down nervously at the head of the table and wait for the rest to come in.
The first to arrive is a girl irritably dragging along a rather protesting young man. “Come on, Ron, we are going to be late!”
“Gerrof, Hermione. See, there’s no one else here.” He gestures to the empty table after flashing me an apologetic smile. “Paranoid that one,” he says to in a theatrical whisper.
“Ron!”
All further dialogue is interrupted by the next arrival, another redhead, and obviously related to the young man. Only a second behind her comes another boy, one whom I recognize immediately, Harry Potter.
“Hey, Hermione, Ron,” he nods affably. “I should’ve guessed you’d be the first ones here.”
“We almost weren’t,” Hermione mutters darkly, shooting Ron a glare that could melt stone. But her features clear quickly. “And when this is over, I need to talk to you. Ginny too, if she wants.” The redheaded girl gives a quick affirmation. “You see, I’ve been doing some research and reading, and I think I’ve worked out this new theory…”
“Surprise, surprise. Granger’s been in the library. Don’t you ever do anything besides work?” drawls the voice of the next entrant, a blond haired boy with a perpetual smirk.
“A little honest work certainly wouldn’t hurt you,” she shoots back.
“Give it a rest, you two,” Ginny cuts in. Looking at me, she asks, “Are we ready to get started?”
Shuffling through my papers I find the right one at last, and skim down a list, placing little checkmarks by each name. “One more person, then we will be ready.”
“Who?”
“Me.” We all jump as a man walks in, sweeping to his seat like an overgrown bat. “You could hardly expect any discussion of the sixth book to take place without my presence.”
“Arrogant git,” Harry mutters to Ron under his breath.
“What was that, Mr. Potter? Would you care to repeat it a little bit louder perhaps?” Even seated, Professor Snape could be a menacing figure.
“No, sir,” Harry murmurs while Draco snickers openly.
“Good. And you should bear in mind, Potter, that the width of this table is the only thing that is currently preventing me from strangling you, so I’d tread a bit more carefully…”
I’d been afraid of something like this happening, and I quickly try to divert attention before the hostilities rose even further. The last thing we need is an all out brawl like the Rookwood affair last month. “Excuse me.” No one seems to notice so I try again, louder. “Excuse me!” Every set of eyes is on my face and I can feel a blush starting while I try to regain my composure. “If we are all ready, perhaps this conference can begin. Now, as we all know, book six ended with a great many things unresolved, and there are a lot of anxious readers who would like your conclusions to try to resolve things as they wait for book seven. Firstly, there is the matter of Dumbledore.”
“I’m dead.” Heads turn to stare at the voice that came from the wall. Or, to be more precise, came from a picture on the wall. The wizard pushes his half moon spectacles a little higher up his nose and says again, “Tell them all I’m dead.”
“Yes,” I say delicately, not sure how to approach the question without feeling ridiculous. “But you see sir, a great many of the readers believe you will come back.”
“That’s preposterous!” Harry exclaims. “Why I said so myself, to the so-called Minister of Magic no less, that he was gone. Here...” He fishes the book out of the bag at his feet and flips through furiously. Pointing to a page, he passes it around the table until it is set in front of me. “Even I acknowledge that he won’t come back.”
“And you are more pigheaded than the lot of them,” Ginny adds, slightly unhelpfully. She and Hermione can’t resist a brief giggle.
I ignore the jibe and push on. “So if Dumbledore is no longer able to give evidence, or if Dumbledore’s evidence can no longer be trusted, how would you classify your feelings toward and suspicions of Severus Snape?”
“Pardon?”
“Honestly, Ron, can’t you pay attention. She wants to know if you think Professor Snape is evil or not,” Hermione says with a touch of exasperation.
“Oh, but that’s easy. No offence sir, but you are still a slimy, evil, old git. I’ve been saying that since book one.”
The former Potions master bristles a bit, his lip curling and one hand brushing back a hank of greasy hair. “Thank you, Mr. Weasley, for those endearing compliments, but may I also remark upon the fact that you have also been wrong since book one, particularly in regards to my person.”
“Actually,” I add, “there is a large reader base that believes Severus Snape is still working for the light side and the Order.” I double-check the numbers on the survey in front of me. “A great many people actually believe that both you and Draco will turn out good.”
“Preposterous,” Snape sputters while the others look shocked at the news. “I have worked so long to cultivate my image. Do you know how long it takes to get my hair to this state of nastiness? Too long, that’s what. I even broke my nose to get it to hook just right. How can they think I will be good? Everyone hates me, and that’s how it should be.” We wait for his tantrum to die down into thoughtfulness. “Perhaps I ought to be nastier to you, Potter,” he muses. “If nothing else, it will make me feel better.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Harry says stiffly. “I’m going to have rather enough on my plate as it is.”
Here, Ginny breaks in, an incredulous look across her features. “Did you say people think Malfoy will be good?”
“Yes, I did. Particularly because of the ending of book six, during which he lowered his wand. People think that it might mean something.”
“What, other than his hand getting tired, you mean?” Ron laughs.
“Really Ron, give him a chance. Maybe miracles can happen and he will turn out all right after all.”
“Thank you, Mudblood, but I don’t recall asking you to stick your nose in,” Draco snaps. This is not heading the way I had planned the interview to go.
“You know,” Hermione says thoughtfully, “you really are your father’s son.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Draco asks suspiciously.
“Nothing, really. Just when you get angry you have the same scowl.” Hermione struggles to keep a straight face. “It’s rather ferocious actually.” She and Ginny dissolve into giggles.
Draco shoots them a disdainful look, and in a voice full of withering scorn asks, “If you are quite finished…”
“See,” Ginny points out, gasping for breath between laughs. “There, you’re doing it again.
“Will somebody please bring Weasley and Granger to their right senses?” Draco demands, his cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment.
“No, actually I have to agree with them rather,” Harry decides. “I dunno, what do you think mate?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Particularly the pinched look at the corner of his eyes,” Ron extrapolates.
I have to do something to save the interview. “All right, enough,” I shout. “If you don’t mind, I still have a few questions to ask you.” Hermione at least has the decency to look a bit ashamed. Harry and Ron, however, give each other a thumbs up under the table which I pretend not to see. Draco just sulks. “The readers have also been worrying a great deal about how you are going to find and destroy the Horcruxes. Is there anything you can share on that front?”
Harry flushes a bit red. “Well… err,” he stammers.
“You don’t know, do you?” Draco taunts with glee. “You haven’t got a clue.”
“Actually, we have,” Hermione states calmly. All eyes are riveted to her face.
“We have?” Ron asks.
“Yes, of course. What else do you think I wanted to talk to you about after the conference?” She glances at Draco. “Sometimes a little hard work can pay off.”
“And is there anything you can tell us?” I ask, hoping for some gem for the worried readers.
“I’m afraid not.” She flashes me an apologetic smile. “But you see, so long as certain people in this room have the possibility of working against us, I really shouldn’t share. And just in case You-Know-Who reads the paper, well, it really shouldn’t get out.”
“He does read the paper,” I confirm glumly. “Or at least he will. Debbie is interviewing him for tomorrow’s edition.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you got stuck with us then,” Ron says brightly.
“Yes, well, I suppose that is all for now. However, if our readers pose any further questions, I can count on you for another conference?”
A variety of “yeahs”, “yeses”, and “if we musts” echo through the room. “Brilliant. Thank you all for coming.” And with that, your new Daily Prophet reporter ends the meeting.
All questions and comments can be directed to the Daily Prophet Customer Service Department by owl, from which they will be sent on with the reporter. Our thanks to the Harry Potter cast for their participation, and look for the second installment with your questions in a following edition.