The Pen is Mighty

Chapter One-The Best of a Bad Situation

"Damn, Alicia! How long did you have this job? Two, three years?"

The statement you see above you came from none other than my best friend, Angelina Johnson, who had just learned that I had been let go from my position at the Daily Prophet. Okay, just to set the record straight, I worked there for four years. Four years is a long time to work at a job, especially one you hate. Not that Angelina would understand that. Signed to the Appleby Arrows as a reserve straight out of Hogwarts, she flew second string for a short year and then was bumped to the starting line-up faster than the snitch itself. Wouldn't stop playing no matter what life threw her way, including the birth of twin girls and a wedding, in that order. Of course, there was the one year where all Quidditch was cancelled due to a sharp rise in power for, well, Voldemort. Ange pouted around all day everyday when that happened. Still, aside from that, she's been very happy with her work. I, on the other hand, had been suffering endlessly ever since I entered the job market. I took a year off after Hogwarts to "clear my head and sort myself out" as my mother calls it. In reality, I was completely sorted out and knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life; I wanted to write. Sometime during my sixth year, I learned that there were things in life more important than Quidditch (don't tell Angelina I said that, though), and for me one of those was writing. Once I left school, I couldn't exactly get a job with the Prophet, could I? And nobody else would have me. Even the Quibbler said I lacked experience. THE BLOODY QUIBBLER! So, I sat it out for a year, then went into hiding the next year. Seemed my association with known Voldemort opposers put my family in danger. My sister was in danger anyway, but that's a different story. It's funny, though; the connection that almost got me killed got me a job the next year, writing for the Prophet until the fortunate day they let me go. Of course, I could never explain to anybody else. They wouldn't understand being happy to lose your job.

"Four years, Angie. I worked there four years," I corrected.

"Four years? And you did what, exactly? Draw up little blurbs about semi-pro Quidditch matches and unknown players?" she questioned.

"Hey! Some of those "unknowns" became some pretty big stars. As I do recall, there was this one chaser for Appleby that most people seemed to think wouldn't last a year..."

"Yeah, I know you were the only person at the Prophet who ever had faith in me, and I appreciate it, but let's stick to the matter at hand. You have no job."

"Yes, Angelina, I have no job."

"And why exactly don't you have a job?"

"Because the people at the paper seemed to think my writing wasn't headed in the same 'direction' as theirs. They thought I was a radical, so they got rid of me. And to be honest, I'm happy to leave."

"But now you have no job..."

"Yes, Ange, I'm aware of that..."

"And what about a place to live? Can you and Lee still afford the flat?"

"No, we can't. I had to pack up and move out three days ago. Lee doesn't know yet; he's out of town on business. I'll tell him when he gets back."

At least, I hoped I had the courage to tell him. We had been married for two years now, and to say that had been rough would be understating it. First, he was jobless; luckily Fred and George hired him at their Diagon Alley shop (they also had a newly opened store at Hogsmeade, but who wants to apparate so far?). Then there was the unfortunate incident where he caught me snogging George and quit his job. Very long story. Let's just say that Fred convinced him to come back, I agreed not to see George again that year, and life was very tense. Then, my mother grew ill and I had to go up and take care of her, meaning I lived a Lee-less life for four months. And just as it was getting peaceful, I lose my job and we lose the flat. The last thing I wanted was to let him know that we were in hard luck again.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You lost your job. Your husband doesn't know about it because he's on business. You were far enough behind on rent that you've been kicked out of you flat. Oh, and you haven't told him about that, either."

"That's correct, Angelina. Now, can we please focus on something other than how much of a screw-up I am?"

"Sure. Why did you drag me to this place? I know I said we should hang out more, but a muggle shop?"

"You said you wanted to go out somewhere where no one would recognize you. Ta-da!"

"When I said that, I was thinking of someplace overseas perhaps. You know those American blokes don't appreciate Quidditch anymore than they appreciate that muggle sport your sister's always going on about. What's it called again...handball?"

"Football, Ange. Actually, my sister's the other reason we're here. I'm supposed to meet her today and this is her favorite spot."

"Erin Spinnet: the Muggle dweller. Eh, at least she picked a place with good drinks. Not butterbeer, mind you, but good nonetheless. What's this stuff called again?"

"Gin and Tonic"

"Ah yes. What's in it?"

Angelina would've most likely gotten a bit of sarcasm for that one had my sister not decided to grace us with her presence at that moment. She was a half-hour late, too. Not that it bothered me too much; I got to spend some time with Ange. It didn't surprised me either; Erin Spinnet is the only person I know, witch or muggle, who showed up to her own engagement party late...twice. Besides, it's not as if I had anywhere to go. I couldn't very well go home, could I? It took my sister all of five seconds to spot us; I look exactly like her only with darker hair, and Angelina's just tall. Erin took one glance at us, chuckled a little, and then strolled over to order her favorite drink: Strawberry Daquiri. How she managed to do that without ever getting carded, I'll never know. She looked exactly like I used to when I was seventeen, and she was twenty at the time. Finally, after ordering her drink and flirting with the bartender so she wouldn't have to pay for it, she chose to descend upon us.

"Ah, my darling sister. So sorry to keep you waiting, but things come up, as you know," Erin said with the sassy flourish that only she had.

"Of course," Angelina replied before I could get a word in, "what was his name this time?"

"I'll have you know my sister's actually engaged at the moment to a charming young healer named Laurence," I stated in my sister's defense.

"A healer, huh? Must mean he's a smart bloke. Is he smart enough to figure out she's been engaged twice before?" Angelina asked, just trying to pick a fight. That was always one of her favorite games, picking a fight with my sister. Deep down inside, I'm sure she loves her as much as I do, but as far as public appearances go, her relationship with Erin goes only as deep as her greatest insult can cut.

"Mum says she's gonna kill you," Erin reported to me, completely ignoring Angelina, "Dad says he misses you and wishes you would come home."

"Thanks for the report, Erin," I said, rejecting the idea of ever going home again. "Why don't you have a seat? I have something I need to discuss with you, anyway."

"Right. You said you found the solution to all your problems and that you needed my help with it. So, out with it," Erin demanded.

"Yeah, Alicia. You apparated into my flat today, stating that you lost your job, you had a plan, and you wanted a drink. Well, you've got no job, you've got your drink, now what's your plan?" Angelina questioned after knocking back her third gin and tonic. I glanced at Erin to let her know Ange should not be having anymore of those. After all, we did walk there.

"Yes," I began, "Well, now that you're both here, I suppose I can reveal my plan. Angelina, do you remember how I got my job at the Prophet? How I told my boss that if he gave me anything, even something small, that I would eventually return the favor by handing over an interview with Arthur Weasley?"

Ange nodded her head, confused and slightly drunk.

"Well, sometime last year, I got that interview. Arthur gave me the inside scoop on what happened with the Order when Voldemort fell. That interview would've made the Prophet the most famous wizarding paper in the world, and probably would've earned me a promotion. Of course, knowing this, I couldn't submit it. Now, before you start yelling at me about this, hear me out. When I had finished the interview, Arthur made an... offhand comment about how I should interview people outside of the Order about what happened. Voldemort fell years ago and he still didn't know what even his own kids hade gone through. Then I thought about it and realized that you had your own story, Erin, and I didn't even know it. My own sister almost died and I didn't know how or why."

"That's because you never asked," Erin added dryly.

"I know I never asked; I never thought to ask. You were at school, and Mum, Dad, and I were in hiding. The whole situation was too overwhelming for me to want to talk about, but now it's a different story. The more I thought about what Arthur said, the more I began to realize that sending his interview to the Prophet would just be a waste. The interview left you wanteing more, wanting to know the answers to questions no one would answer. If I really wanted to make a difference, I would have to find the answers to those questions. I would have to be the voice on the matter. The thought kept me up all night. I knew what I wanted to do, but I had to wait until the right time. I couldn't start after the incident with George, and I couldn't start while my mother lay almost dying while doctors monitored her. I wasn't in the right mind after George, and having to explain to that lot of muggles what I was writing all the time was just too much . Now that I've lost my job, I can start executing my plan. I've got no home, I've got no money, I've got no reputation; I've got nothing to lose."

Both of them just sat there with their eyebrows raised.

"That's nice that you've got nothing to lose, sis, but what exactly are you not losing it on?" Erin asked between sips of her daquiri.

"I told you, I'm going to be the voice that let's the world know what really happened during the days we like to call the Dark and Light weeks. Nobody's come forth and given the public their story. I'm going to be the person to deliver the message to everyone!" I shouted a little more loudly than I had planned. Well, in my defense, I had every right to do so. I was about to partake on the dream that I'd had for years! I was excited about it! Unfortunately, Angelina and Erin didn't share my enthusiasm. If they did, their faces were sure doing a great job of hiding it. They were looking at me as if I had lost my mind.

Angelina grabbed her glass and went to take a long, hard gulp of Gin and Tonic, but sadly she learned that it had been replaced with water. Spitting it out directly onto my blouse, she went to question what I was saying.

"So, you want to tell the world the stories that they know nothing about? Sounds to me like you want to publish a book."

"That's exactly it, Ange! I want to take interviews, documents, and public records and combine them to put together the puzzle of those days. If I get enough information, I'll be able to explain all the major events and when they happened. By the time I'm finished, the Day of the Dark Mark, the New Beginning, and everything in between will be chronicled in detail for the world to see."

"Sis, that's a a nice idea and all, but let's think clearly here. No one's come forward with any information besides Dumbledore, and he's dead. Everyone likes to keep their private business private. How are you going to get anyone to talk?"

"I thought about it. A good majority of the reporters at the Prophet had tried to get an interview with Arthur before I did, but they were all turned down. When I asked him why I was allowed to do it, he said it was because I was easy to trust, and he knew I wouldn't use it to hype up paper sales and furthur my career. He said I was allowed to do it because he knew me and he knew I cared. Which got me thinking-how many people do I know personally that were affected by this? Members of the Order, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, they all know me by name. If I can convince them to talk to me, it would be just like chatting with an old friend. It WOULD be chatting with an old friend. Once I finished with one interview, I could have that person chat me up to the next person I want to interview. Who knows, with word of mouth, I might even be able to get an interview with Harry," I said, amazingly, in one breath.

"Don't hold your breath!" Angelina yelled a little louder than I think she meant to.

"I know, Angelina," I said quickly, "it's damn near impossible, but there's a difference between damn near impossible and plain old impossible. I have a chance. It's a small chance, but it's still a chance." I turned to Erin for her reaction.

Erin stared at me as if she were staring into a mirror. She made odd faces, first of confusion, then of disbelief, then finally of acceptance. She paused from sipping on her drink for a moment to bend her straw back and forth as she contemplated the sanity behind my idea. Finally, she spoke her decision.

"What do you need me to do, Alicia?" she said, looking me dead in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at her. "I need you to tell me your story."

"Done. Anything else?"

"Do you have any connections?"

"No, but Dad does. I'll ask him to drop by some fireplaces. It's not like he's got anything better to do."

"Thanks, Erin. With Arthur's interview, your story, and the story of Mum, Dad, and me, I think I'll have a good start."

We both turned to look at Angelina, who had recently accepted that her water wasn't going to turn into wine anytime soon and was sipping it slowly through a straw. She was obviously trying to avoid eye contact with either one of us. I know Angelina, and whenever she wants to avoid having to say anything, she refuses to make eye contact. Still, she could sense our eyes burning into her, darkening her skin which remained sandy tan even as she was going pale. Finally, she gave in.

"All right, Alicia," she said once she stopped sipping,"what is it you need me to do?"

My grin widened. "I need you to use your power to get me a connection."

"Alicia, I love you dearly and I want to help you, but I've got two soon-to-be four year olds and I'm married to a might as well be four years old. I don't have time to go out begging people to give their stories to my best friend."

"You wouldn't have to. I just need you to get one person, and she's right where you work."

Angelina gave me a puzzled look. Then, she suddenly frowned. She knew exactly who I wanted her to talk to: her team's personal healer.

"You want me to go talk to Ginny Weasley about giving up an interview? Alicia, this is the witch who gives me physicals!" Angelina shouted.

"There's nobody on the planet closer to her than you besides her own blood relatives, and you're married to one of them! If anyone's going to coax her into an interview, it'll be you!" I argued.

"So, what, you want me to ask her while she's got her wand pointed down, checking my vitals?" she protested.

"No, you don't have to do that. Just talk to her, tell her it's a good idea. Sell her on the finer points of it," I suggested.

Angelina raised an eyebrow. "Which are what, exactly?"

"Being able to show the world how ordinary people of all ages can stand up and triumph against evil. Tell her that by allowing me to interview her, she'd not only be doing history justice. but mankind as well. Please, Angelina? Ginny could be one of the most important interviews I get. I really need her," I pleaded while giving Angelina the puppy face. Three years ago, Fred tipped me off that Angelina was unable to say no if given the proper puppy face. For hours we stood in front of the mirror, practicing until I could do it just as well as he. It was moments like this I was glad to have Fred on my side.

Angelina squirmed a bit in her chair. She tried staring at Erin, but she received no sympathy there. My sister was on my side, bless her. Soon, Angelina gave in.

"Fine, Alicia. I'll have a talk with Ginny. I'll do my best, but I'm not promising anything," she muttered in defeat. Triumphant, I hugged both her and Erin. Neither of them seemed to be too keen on that, but oh well. It was my moment.

"I hate to break up this touching moment, but I have a wedding to plan, and yes, Angelina, this time it IS going to happen. Sis, send me an owl once you relocate. I'll stop by for a talk," Erin said as she stood up to leave. "Oh, and by the way, you should tell the waiter you were with me. The men here seem to believe that pretty girls shouldn't have to pay their tab, and I know neither of you has enough money to afford this place."

And with that, she shuffled out the door.

"Real winner of a sister you got there, Alicia. I'm sure that healer of hers must be very happy..." Angelina began, quickly changing subjects. "Hey, about that owl she told you to send? Tell her to stop by my place. You can stay over until you land on your feet."

"Ange, I couldn't," I replied.

"Bloody hell you couldn't! You need a place to live! I know you won't go home, and I can't let you live on the street or waste any money staying at the Cauldron. Come home with me. Fred won't mind, and the girls'll love it. They miss their Aunty Alicia," Angelina said. She was making a lot of sense. I did need somewhere to stay, and I hadn't seen her twins in ages. This time, she would win.

"All right, Angelina. Lead the way."