AN: The prompt was "The Innocent" Goal: Happiness, OR fear: punishment 1,091 words

Emma Vanity wondered for how much longer would her staff have to cower and hide. The newsroom of Hogwarts' school newspaper was where she crouched, working at the old printing press. All of them were— one final story, one expose. They'd all broken curfew to make this happen.

The star reporters, they had found the book that had finally explained all of it. Minty Hazelwood, the greatest investigator among their ranks had discovered that the abnormal size of the pipes in the wall back in December. But only now had she finally found a creature that was big enough, that explained all of the weird occurrences taking place at Hogwarts that year.

Emma supposed it should have been more obvious. A basilisk was a giant snake, and what other animal did Salazar Slytherin hold an affinity for? She was sure that historians would rue their foolishness, their obliviousness, and curse their lack of learning from history. That was, after all, the student's cardinal sin, wasn't it?

She should have known, she kept telling herself over and over again. She should have known, for she was a Slytherin. She was the oldest, she was the Editor-in-Chief. She had to look after her younger reporters, all starry-eyed innocents seeking to serve their community and chase down justice— or whatever they told themselves they wanted from this. They all had their reasons, after all.

Emma had already failed Colin Creevey this year. How many more had she failed, by not figuring it out?

Sure, they would all be in trouble for working, for trying to distribute this final edition of the paper. One that warned everyone what had been released in Hogwarts. Maybe if they'd had just a little more time, they'd be able to understand who would have done this to a bunch of kids. . .

Colin had just wanted to please everyone. It had the mixture of annoying and satisfying Emma, as his Editor-in-Chief, for while he was always following her and asking every question in the universe, he really did improve and quickly. He glowed whenever she would begrudgingly admit that he had a good shot, or he had interjected a good question into the interview he had been accompanying.

It was nice, to know that he could be relied upon. And she did start to take it easier, on the kid. Because he meant well, and for all that could be said about one of the only female Slytherin Quidditch players, she wasn't as big and bad as others liked to play it off. She couldn't be mean to a kid who just wanted to be happy, and make others happy.

Was he afraid when the basilisk got him? She couldn't help but wonder it as she strolled past the press, examining it. She knew that they were pushing it beyond its ordinary capacity. She patted the old enchanted wooden structure. It had been around before her parents were born, and Emma was sure it would outlast her.

"Just a little while longer," she whispered. It wasn't just for the machine.

Andrew Snowy-Owl and the other half of the Sleeping Dragon Chronicler, that half that ran the radio show, were getting ready to transmit one last message. After all, they were spending one last night in the castle— and everyone in the United Kingdom deserved to know the truth about what had happened to their children.

She knew the look on his face— they had become the secondary parents to all of these kids, who had just wanted the noble extracurricular of student journalism, who were now wrapped up in whatever mess Harry Potter had brought to Hogwarts. In his eyes, she saw someone who was ready to lay down his life to make sure that these kids had a chance to chase their happiness, to avoid the fear and death that would surely take them here.

They would make sure that they stayed innocents in all of this.

Emma looked back to the press she was monitoring. Several of the other reporters now sat around in their pyjamas, the silence deafening. It was more than the fear of getting in trouble. After all, they were leaving tomorrow morning. Rather, it was the fear of what if the basilisk tried to get in here, for they would all be sitting owls—

Emma sat by Sally-Anne Perkins, a quiet Slytherin second-year with a pensive expression on her face.

"It's going to be alright, you know," Emma assured her. Even if she didn't know if that was true. It was okay to lie to kids in times such as these. "There are no bathrooms anywhere near here. Never thought there'd come a day where I'd be happy about that, but here we are."

"I'm so tired of being afraid," Sally-Anne said, after a moment. She drew her knees to her chest. "I don't like it— I know I'm a coward. That's why I'm not in Gryffindor. Because I get so scared and I can't think, and it's always there, waiting to get me. It's like I'll never be happy again."

"We've got one more night here," Emma reminded her. "We're safe in here, and if we make it through the night, we'll be able to go home."

"I don't want to wait," Sally-Anne admitted. She laid her head on Emma's shoulder. "I want to go home now. I want to be safe in my own bed, and not have to worry about a snake turning me to stone or killing me—"

"You know, I once went through the same thing," Emma said. "My first year, the Cursed Ice took the castle. We froze, right in this newsroom. I had to be brave, too. Thought it was some bad joke, because who asked a Slytherin to be brave?"

"But you were brave anyway," Sally-Anne finished. "I didn't think you would give me that kind of morality story."

Emma shrugged. "Whatever it takes to make sure we all make it. We're a team, and a family. And we're going to get through it."

She then took Sally-Anne's hand. "We won't have to scared anymore, when the sun rises."

And so they all watched for the sun to rise. That was when Harry Potter would emerge from the dungeons with a story and Ginny Weasley, a monster slain. But that, is another story. As for the staff of the Sleeping Dragon Chronicler, they were busy printing edits with the newest update to the breaking news.