Harry Potter and the Ring of Slytherin: Year Six

Chapter2: The Daily Prophet

Vernon Dursley came marching out of the house and grabbed Harry by the ear and dragged him back inside. "What the devil do you think you're doing out there?" he roared.

"I was just sleeping!" Harry said defiantly.

"You weren't sleeping, you filthy little liar! I heard you screaming with my own two ears! Even those who live a few blocks from here could have heard that noise!"

Harry was about to defend himself when a huge barn owl swooped into the living room. It dropped a piece of rolled-up parchment on top of Uncle Vernon's head. Vernon went even madder. His face turned red and he looked like he's going to explode. "What did I tell you about those bloody owls? Haven't I told you that - "

"Shush Vernon!" ordered Aunt Petunia, Vernon's long-necked and nosy wife. Then she looked at Harry and said, "Well, take a look at it", pointing at the parchment.

Harry and Uncle Vernon looked at each other, quite confused. It had been the fifth time that Aunt Petunia showed interest on the letters coming from the Wizarding world.

Harry did what he was told. He picked up the parchment and opened it and it turned out to be the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. A moving photograph of Dumbledore shaking Fudge's hand could be seen at the front page.

"It's today's issue of the-" Harry hesitated. Mentioning the slightest detail about the Wizarding world usually started a heated argument at the Dursley manor. He looked at Aunt Petunia and she signalled him to go on, "It's today's issue of the Daily Prophet, the wizarding world's newspaper."

Those words infuriated Uncle Vernon even more. He was at the verge of attacking Harry when Aunt Petunia blocked him and pushed him to the couch. "Now sit and listen to what the boy has to say!" she commanded him in a very bossy tone, as if she's talking to a small puppy.

She brought her attention back to Harry, "So what does it say?"

Harry read a bit of the front page and reported in a low voice, "Well, they still haven't got any new on the whereabouts of Vol- ...I mean, the Dark Lord. But they announced that Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, along with the muggle...I mean, the British Prime Minister are forming an alliance against the Dark Lord."

Harry waited for Aunt Petunia's response but she just stood there thinking and her face looked awfully serious. Ever since Harry arrived from Hogwarts, Aunt Petunia kept asking him questions about the Dark lord's return like, "Was he caught by the authorities?", "Will they catch him any time soon?" and a lot more. Although Harry found it strange...It seemed that Aunt Petunia was the only person aside from Harry that was sensible enough to see the seriousness of the situation. She seemed to know a lot more about the Wizarding world than Harry thought.

In an attempt to get his dignity back, Uncle Vernon stood to continue scolding Harry but before he could do that, Harry dashed out of the living room and into his room upstairs. He layed the Daily prophet on his bed and began scanning the pages.

If last summer, there wasn't a single article about the Dark Lord's return on the Daily Prophet ...well, this summer, the paper reported of nothing else. Every page, from cover to cover was filled with articles about Death Eater sightings, Dementor attacks, mysterious disappearances that might be connected to the Dark Lord, and of course exclusive interviews with Harry Potter himself.

Before Harry rode the train back to London, reporters from various newspapers and magazines had been chasing him all over Hogwarts to get an interview. He was famous before but that's nothing compared to how famous he was now. He told the reporters what they needed to know but he didn't bother filling them in with the details. They wouldn't be able to hassle him anymore now that he's in Privet Drive...at least that's what he thought...

As Harry turned to page eleven, he saw a picture of a funny-looking woman in full-color and she was winking at him. She had long, curly orange-red hair that looked awful with her bright purple eyes. She was wearing a tight fiery red velvet robe that matches her scarlet lipstick and nail polish. She also had glasses that looked like that of Rita Skeeter, although the lenses had the shade of pink instead of being colourless. She had the look of a woman on her late forties who seemed to be under the illusion that she's a girl on her late teens. Her wrinkles were quite obvious even though she desperately tried to hide them with her make-up.

The caption below the picture said Elizabeth Iglich: Fashion and Lifestyle. "So, she writes writes for the Fashion and Lifestyle column of the Daily Prophet." Harry said to himself. "No wonder the fashion sense of witches today is so weird!"

"Watch your tongue dahhh-ling!" said a flirty female voice.

Harry looked around but there was nobody there but him. He looked at the picture and Elizabeth Iglich was grinning at him. "It can't be!" exclaimed Harry.

"Yes it can!" said the picture. "Well, if you'd be so kind dear, could you take that red dot away from me? It's ruining my picture."

"What red dot?" asked Harry.

"The one below my picture." replied the woman sweetly.

Harry looked below the picture and saw a tiny red thing that seemed to be glued on the paper. Curiously, he slowly reached for it and the moment his finger touched it, he felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. This felt really familiar to him and he didn't like this feeling at all. He tried to take his finger off the red dot but he couldn't. Then he started feeling dizzy and everything around him appeared to be revolving really fast. Then the dot seemed to be pulling him downwards until all he could see were swirling winds and colours. He shut his eyes and when he opened them, a pair of bright purple gems where in front of him.

Then he heard that irritatingly sweet voice again. "Are you okay daaah-ling?"

He shut his eyes again and rubbed it. When he opened it, he realized that what he saw weren't a pair of purple gems; they were the eyes of Elizabeth Iglich...the real Elizabeth Iglich.

"Elizabeth Iglich!" exclaimed Harry.

"Please daah-ling call me Lizzy!" replied Elizabeth.

Harry looked around him. He was definitely not in his room anymore and most definitely not in Privet Drive. He was in a large room that seemed to be an office. There was a huge desk behind him, covered with scarlet velvet with lace trimmings, and a large chair that looked like an oversized purple ostrich was behind it. The walls were covered with bright-coloured wallpaper with red and purple stripes.

The room was definitely an interior decorator's nightmare. Harry couldn't even keep his eyes open because they couldn't stand the bright contrasting colours of the room. When Harry finally came to his senses he suddenly blurted out, "Where am I?"

Lizzy giggled like a teenage girl and said, "You're in my office, silly!"

"You're office! But how did I get here?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention that the red dot is a portkey. I made it myself using a small bit of chewing gum. Clever isn't it?"

"You tricked me into coming here!" bawled Harry.

"My, my, you've got quite a temper daah-ling! You don't have to be that upset, all I want is an interview!"

"Interview! INTERVIEW! I told you people a dozen times everything that I know! What more do you want from me?"

Lizzy grinned at Harry and looked straight into his eyes, which made him very uncomfortable. "We both know that there's more to the story than what you told the other reporters."

Harry looked down. He was quite uneasy because he felt like she's reading he's thoughts when she looked into his eyes. Without looking into her eyes he said, "Look, there's nothing more I can say! Just take me back!"

But Lizzy just sat on her feathered chair and brought out a piece of parchment and a red quill. "Sorry dear, but I didn't go into all this trouble just to get nothing! I'm not taking you back until I get an interview!"

Harry could not believe this woman! She must be really desperate to get a story. But why would the writer of the Fashion and Lifestyle column be interested in the story of the Dark Lord's return?

As if she knew what Harry was thinking, Lizzy said, "You're probably wondering why would I, the very fashionable writer of the widely read Fashion and Lifestyle column of the Daily Prophet, be interested in your story."

Dumbfounded, Harry nodded.

"Well, you see the fear of the Dark Lord has become a part of the lifestyle of the people here in the magical world. And that's why I want to present to the people an inside look at the heart and mind of their tragic little hero...you!" She paused for a moment then she folded the sleeves of her robe and placed the quill on top of the parchment. "So shall we begin?"

Harry couldn't help but feeling that he'd prefer to be in a broom cupboard again with Rita Skeeter than to be in the same room with this woman. Her irritating smile and fake giggles made Harry feel sick. The color of the room that seemed to be designed by a person who was color-blind didn't help at all.

But Harry decided to give in. He had no choice. What harm could an interview do? The sooner they finish, the sooner he could leave this place. "Okay, go on!" Harry said bitterly.

Lizzy giggle excitedly and her quill started moving rapidly by itself. "So, Harry daah-ling, what were you doing before that terrible event took place?" she asked dramatically.

Harry opened his mouth to answer but he saw something that made his heart stop beating for a moment. There was a tattoo of a serpent coiled around a skull on Lizzy's arm. Only one thought came to Harry's mind...Death Eater! But the tattoo on the Death Eaters is a skull with a serpent as its tongue! This one's different! Well, Death Eater or not, the serpent and the skull were sure signs of Voldemort's supporters! And Harry's alone in a room with one of them!

Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't even know where he was. The only plan that came up in his mind was - Get out of this room...fast! But first he needed a diversion...

"Um... I think I have to go!" Harry suddenly said.

"Go where?" asked Lizzy.

"To the loo." replied Harry.

Lizzy giggled again, "Oh, you mean the little boy's room! Sure dear, its right at the left of - "

But before she could finish what she was saying, Harry rushed out of the room and into the deserted hallway.

"Great! Now where do I go?"said Harry with the sound of panic in his voice.

The hallway was long and narrow and there were numerous doors on both sides. Each door was unique. There wasn't a single door that looked like the others. There was a door covered with posters of men riding flying broomsticks and throwing this red ball at each other. They're probably playing Quidditch, Harry's most favorite sport in the world and the most famous sport in the Wizarding world. On top of the door was a brass plate with the name Kennilworthy Whisp engraved on it and below it were the words, Sports and Leisure. The next door looked like a gigantic magnifying glass and on the brass plate was the name, Cyril Ravelle: Mysteries and Scandals. There were lots of other interesting - looking doors, like the one covered in dragon scales and the one that looked like an hourglass, but Harry didn't had time to look at them because he had to get as far as he could from Lizzy's office.

He ran and ran but the hallway seemed endless. Harry thought it was never going to end until he saw a brass grate. He pushed the button the button beside it and he didn't have to wait long for the lift to arrive. It looked like a normal lift but Harry noticed that even its walls were covered with magenta-colored rug. And he would soon find out why...

He was suddenly pulled to the wall by a couple of straps. He looked at them and saw that they looked like the seat-belt of a car. They strapped Harry onto the wall until he couldn't move. Once his back was flat against the wall, the lift made a sudden jolt. One minute, Harry was standing up with his back against the wall, the next minute he was lying flat on his back. What used to be the wall was now the floor and what used to be the floor was now the wall. So, technically, Harry was still leaning on the wall, although it's not the wall anymore but the floor.

The lift was moving downward rapidly, and then, without warning, it halted. Harry looked up. The door was now situated where the ceiling was supposed to be.When the straps released his body; he expected that he would have to climb up to get to the door. But to his surprise, gravity was still pulling his feet to the wall. It was as if there was something sticky on his shoes that allowed him to walk on the wall!

When he got out of the lift, everything went back to normal. He's walking on the ground again and not on the wall. He must be on the main lobby of the Daily Prophet building. Harry never imagined it would be this huge and so full of people. Everyone looked so busy. Tiny wizards pushing carts filled with piles of newspapers, bespactacled witches running around muttering about missing their deadlines, warlocks arguing about the title of an article about mermonkeys...They were so busy that no one even noticed Harry.

The circular room had fireplaces all over its vast wall, just like in the Ministry of Magic. They must be used by those travelling through the Floo powder network. The floor was made of glossy marble and the ceiling was...

Harry gasped. The ceiling didn't look like a ceiling at all. It was like a dark bottomless pit with ghostly images of past events. Harry even saw the image of Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and the other Death Eaters being arrested by the authorities. The images just floated around the ceiling just like the ghosts that hovered around Hogwarts. Some images were quite old, like the image of young Albus Dumbledore defeating the dark wizard, Grindelwald.

Harry tore his eyes away from the ceiling and looked around. In the middle of the room, was a gigantic Daily Prophet newspaper. It looked exactly the same as that day's issue of the Daily Prophet. Harry could even see the huge moving photograph of Dumbledore shaking Fudge's hand. A tall bald wizard was actually flipping the pages of this gigantic paper with his wand, as if he was inspectioning it.

Just a few inches away from the huge newspaper, Harry saw the most peculiar thing. A group of insects including some grasshoppers, lady bugs, fire flies, dragon flies, roaches, bees, praying mantises and locusts, were standing in a line, and there's a witch walking from left to right in front of them giving them orders, as if she was the general of an army and the insects were her soldiers. Harry came closer to hear what she's saying to them.

"The next time I send you incompetent fools out there, I want you to bring back some news that are worth writing about, not this rubbish that you have given me! Is that understood!!" yelled the woman. "I don't care if you have to hide inside the waste basket or live inside the ear of another wizard as long as you get great stories!"

Then her voice started to sound dramatic. "When I first started here, I had to stay inside the nose of Cornelius Fudge for a week just to get the inside scoop on the Ministry of Magic!" she looked at each of them fiercely. "Well, if you want to make it big in this business you must be willing to take the risk of being swallowed, sniffed or flushed!" The insects made different noises as a sign that they agreed. "Well...Dismissed!!!"

And to Harry's surprise, all of the insects turned into witches and wizards in an instant. It seemed that Rita Skeeter wasn't the only Animagus reporter of the Daily Prophet. That explains why they were able to report every single detail of almost all important events. If the Ministry of Magic finds out about this, the Daily Prophet would be out of business. Harry doubted that any of these Animagi has the approval of the ministry.

Harry continued his search for the exit. He's certain that at that moment, Lizzy must have realized that he didn't really go to the loo. She must be looking for him that very instant. He must hurry before...

A hand grabbed Harry's hand. He's done for! The person dragged him into a dark corridor. He couldn't see her face but Harry was sure that it was a woman. Harry was feeling desperate, he tried to yank the woman's hand off but she was too strong for him. If only he had his wand with him, he could probably do something, but he left it at the Dursley manor. Without it, he felt utterly helpless.

The woman was leading hin to door at the end of the dark corridor. But this door was not as interesting as the doors upstairs, it looked eerie. It was old and rotting and there were cobwebs all over it. For all he knows, Voldemort might be waiting right behind that door...

~

* Do you remember Kennilworthy Whisps? He was the author of Quidditch through the ages. I couldn't resist mentioning his name. I just thought that it would make perfect sense if he's the writer of the Sports and Leisure column of the Daily prophet.