Disclaimer: So there I was… knee deep… and without a straw… and even then I didn't have any rights to anything in the Harry Potter universe. I only have Anita and she's making me no money.

Quick Note: I know this may seem obvious, but I figured I'd say it anyway. Anytime there is italic writing, it denotes Harry's thoughts. I don't always say something like "Harry thought…", so I figured I'd say this little blurb. Please, continue. J

Chapter 8

Anita Skeeter.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. How on earth did someone like her get into Hogwarts? What on earth was she doing there in the first place? He looked over at Ron and Hermione. Judging from the looks on their faces, they had the same questions running through their minds.

Anita walked right up to the staff table and approached Dumbledore. They both shook hands and began talking. Harry was hoping that he was going to tell her to leave, but that apparently wasn't going to be the case. Once they had finished talking, Dumbledore turned to face the students and get their attention.

"Listen for a moment. I'll make this brief. Your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has just arrived. This is Professor Anita Skeeter. She has excellent qualifications and years of experience, as you will find out tomorrow when classes begin. Thank you." Dumbledore then proceeded to escort Anita out of the Great Hall. Talking resumed as before with a few mentions as to the familiarity of the new teacher's name. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other's flabbergasted looks. It was minutes later before either of them spoke.

"How..." Hermione began.

"Dunno..." Harry answered.

"But how..." Ron asked.

"Dunno..." Harry answered again. This had to have been the first time all three of them were truly speechless. Harry's mind was going a mile a minute searching for some sort of explanation. Nothing made sense; the world had gone upside down and completely backwards. Harry pondered out loud, "There has to be an explanation. There has to be. Why would Dumbledore hire someone like that otherwise?"

"I dunno, mate. Maybe she got fired from the Daily Prophet when she didn't get an interview with you, and now she is working here because she also studied Dark Arts and has some proficiency in it," Ron suggested.

"Honestly, that is ridiculous. You are no help at all," sighed Hermione. "There has to be something else to all this. Dumbledore wouldn't have hired her if he knew she was some sensationalist reporter. Not unless he was mad, which I doubt."

"I could ask him when I go to see him about that other stuff," Harry said. "Here I was thinking things were going to be better here."

"Hermione's right. There has to be a sensible reason why she is here," Ron said as he resumed eating. "This year is already off to a good start. You-Know-Who is up to something, Hermione wasn't made a Prefect, you have a broken arm, and now we have Skeeter 2 as a teacher. Now I can safely say the fun never ends."

The three of them didn't say much to each other for the rest of the meal. All of the other students talked excitedly around them. Many of the other Gryffindors asked Harry what happened to his arm. He told them pretty much the truth that he had fallen off the roof; the only deviation was that he said Dudley pushed him. They accepted this explanation, and a few asked if they could sign the cast later. Fred and George eventually came and sat beside them a short while later.

"So it seems that we have another friend on the Hogwarts faculty," Fred said with a rather smug look.

"Things are going to get interesting when we have our first Defense lesson," pointed out George. "We didn't tell anyone that we knew who she was. It'll be more amusing when she is mean to us and no one knows why."

"It'll make us look like the sweet little angles that we are," Fred said trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Right," Ron said skeptically with a roll of his eyes. "And Neville will be made a Prefect."

"Just wait and see," George grinned. The twins got up and walked over to Angelina to give a hard time for a bit. Everyone finished eating shortly after, and Professor McGonagall announced that it was time for everyone to go to their dormitories. All of the students stood up and filed out of the Great Hall. They all broke up into their respective houses and made their way to their dormitories. Harry, Ron and Hermione were slowly trudging up the stairs behind the rest of the Gryffindors.

"So how does it feel to be a Prefect, Hermione?" It was Lavender Brown with Pavarti Patil not too far behind. Both were coming up the stairs behind them.

Hermione stopped and turned around. "Pardon?"

"Well, aren't you a Prefect?" Pavarti asked.

"Apparently not," Hermione mumbled while trying not to look too embarrassed. She continued up the stairs towards the portrait as the others followed.

"Then who is?" Lavender asked. Hermione was about to make a comment about the inner eye when they heard something rather unexpected.

"Sorry deary. That isn't it either." It was coming from up ahead from the Fat Lady's portrait. All of the other students were at a complete standstill in front of it. Hermione, Ron, and Harry pushed their way to the front to see what was up.

"Golden Snitch?.... uh... Beartie Botts?... er... um..." Neville was nervously scratching his head trying to remember something while the Fat Lady sat there waiting impatiently. Hermione started to ask what was wrong, but stopped when she saw the shiny new Prefect badge pinned to the front of Neville's robes.

"You!? You're the-" but Hermione was cut off by the appearance of Professor McGonagall. Slowly but surely she was making her way through the see of students. She clearly wasn't thrilled that the school year had barely started and there were already problems.

"Mr. Longbottom, what is the problem here?" her mouth had become so thin that it looked like just a slit on her face.

"Well, I… um… that is, it…er… I, uh… forgot the password," Neville lowered his head in the manner of puppy that had just done something wrong.

McGonagall closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Harry could see she was mentally counting to ten before dealing with the situation at hand. Irritably she told him finally, "Chinese Fireball, the password is Chinese Fireball. Are there any more debacles I should know about while I am here?"

"Um, I don't think so," Neville told her quietly. He was still trying to avert her piercing gaze.

"Good, now everyone get inside and go to bed. It is terribly late." She turned around and headed back down the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, everyone began to climb through the portrait hole. The Gryffindor common room was same as always: big, overstuffed chairs and couches everywhere with a roaring fire in the fireplace. The warm air and soft light from the candles made the room especially inviting. Once everyone was inside the common room, Neville got up in front of everyone and nervously cleared his voice to get everyone's attention.

"We-welcome to the Gryffindor common room. I um, well, the uh, first year's dorms are up the stairs there, girls on the right, boys on the left," he stopped and thought for a moment. "No wait. It's girls on the left, and boys on the right. Yes, alright, so goodnight."

All of the students went off to their rooms. Harry, Ron and Hermione lagged behind. The two boys turned to Hermione; she still had a look of surprise on her face, and it was definitely not the good kind of surprise. It was more of bad shock, hopes dashed kind of surprise. Harry and Ron both knew it was time for damage control.

"Well, he wasn't that bad. I'm sure he hit his stride soon. Forgetting the password could happen to any Prefect," Ron trying to sound reassuring.

Harry piped in, "Yeah, maybe they're just picking Prefects on a different standard this year. Or perhaps they have something special in mind for you."

Hermione's look of surprised faded into something worse: suppressed rage. "Right, that makes sense. Give the honor of leadership to someone who can hardly do a first year spell. I would have been alright with not being a Prefect if they made it someone remotely competent, but this… him…" the tears started coming down her face and streaking her cheeks. Her hands were clenched and arms straight at her sides. Harry hated seeing her like this. Before he could say anything, Ron decided to try the hands-on approach to the situation. He simply hugged her. Hermione buried her face in the front of his robes and let out a huge sob. Ron stroked her hair and told her everything was going to be all right.

Harry saw that there was nothing he could add to the situation, so he went upstairs to his dorm. Dean, Seamus, and Neville were talking about their summers while getting ready for bed. Harry walked over to his bed and began digging though his trunk for his pajamas. As he was pulling his shirt over his head, Seamus asked where Ron was.

"He'll be up soon. There was something he had to take care of," he told him.

"If he doesn't get up here soon, I'll have to deduct points," Neville was trying to assert his new found authority apparently.

"Come on, Neville. You would actually take points off, would you?" Dean asked.

"No," Neville slowly replied. "But I could."

Not much later, the four boys were in bed. Dean, Seamus and Neville were out in no time, but Harry lie there thinking about everything that had happened that night. Anita Skeeter is here but why? Dumbledore apparently doesn't have a problem with her, so I shouldn't, right? In theory I suppose; she did accost me when we were at Diagon Alley. She is related to Rita and she is also a reporter. Bad combination. I've got to find out why she's here… And poor Hermione. I wonder why Neville is a Prefect. Hermione was a shoo-in for it. The world makes no sense anymore…

*****

The first day of classes arrived bright and early like every other day. Harry rolled over and tied back the curtains on his bed. He looked over at Ron's bed; Ron was sleeping there in the same clothes that he was wearing the night before. His drapes weren't even closed.

"Oy, Ron! Wake up! We have to get to breakfast to get our schedules!" Harry took his sock off and threw it so it landed on top of Ron's face.

Ron groaned and knocked the sock off. "Ugh, is time to get up already? Not fair."

"Were you up that late consoling Hermione?"

"I guess. That whole Prefect thing really upset her, but I think she was feeling better when she stopped crying."

"That's good. I hope she's doing better now that she's had some rest. Now c'mon. Time for breakfast."

The two got dressed and set off for breakfast. Many students were already in the Great Hall eating by the time they got there and Hermione was one of them. She didn't look as upset as she had last night; she was more or less appeared to be deep in thought while slowly eating her cereal. Harry went and sat down across form her; Ron sat next to her.

"So, are you feeling better?" Harry asked.

"I suppose so. Mind you, I am still not happy with all this, but I am going to find why this has happened. I'll sleep easier once I know," said Hermione. She seemed set on this course of action.

"Just don't overreact or anything," Ron told her.

"And what makes you think I will overreact?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulders and stuffed a piece of bacon in his mouth. More students filtered in and it wasn't long till the hall was filled. Teachers came around and started passing out schedules for the year. Professor McGonagall was passing out schedules to the Gryffindors. Once, she gave the three of them theirs, they let out a groan at the same time.

"I can't believe we start our day with double Potions and with the Slytherins nonetheless! Whoever makes these schedules doesn't like us," complained Ron.

"This has to be a conspiracy for us to fail potions," Harry added. "What a way to begin the day."

"It just gets better afterwards, because after Potions we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw," Hermione told them.

"The gift that keeps on giving," sighed Ron.

They finished their breakfast and headed towards the dungeons. They descended down the stairs into the damp, dreary room where their class was held. They sat down in some seats that were in the back and on the opposite side of where the Slytherins were gathering. With any luck, class will begin soon and we won't have to deal with…

"Great, we have to start our morning with Scar head, the mudblood and her servant. It is a shame how this institution is going to waste." It was Draco flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Can't you at least come up some original insults?" Ron said in an annoyed tone.

"Why waste good material on people who don't appreciate it?" replied Draco.

Harry didn't feel like dealing with Malfoy this early in the morning. "Listen, why don't you and your Neanderthals go have a seat? It's too soon to start this game again."

"Like I'm actually going to follow a suggestion of yours. You may have gotten an upperhand back in Diagon Alley, but don't think you can call the shots," Draco was trying to look menacing, but for anyone so self absorbed, menacing is difficult to accomplish.

Just as Harry was about to point this out, the dungeon door violently swung open; Professor Snape was ready for class to begin. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle gave Harry one last sneer before taking their seats with the rest of the Slytherins.

Snape took his place in front of the class. Leaning on his desk with his arms crossed, he looked around the room surveying all of the students. All of the Slytherins looked relaxed while the Gryffindors wore anxious expressions; Snape was notorious for favoring the students of his own house and being God awful to all others. At the moment, he seemed to be plotting his first move, thus setting the tone for the rest of the year.

"So we meet again," Snape's greasy voice drawled. "Another year of reteaching everything you've forgotten and trying in vain to introduce new skills you need. This is going to be even more difficult since you have your O.W.L.s at the end."

All of the students let out a pitiful moan. Other years had been rough, but now they had to study long and hard for their O.W.L.s. Harry thought that this would take all the fun out of the year.

A malicious smile crept across Snape's face. "Well now, since you all are so eager and excited, I suppose we'll officially start the year with a quiz to see what level everyone is."

"Bloody hell!" One of the Gryffindors had lost their inner monologue for a moment.

The rest of the class time was spent with all the students silently trying to remember how to concoct a simple sleeping draught and when it was safe to use nightshade in a potion. When class ended, there was a stampede to leave the dungeon. Harry didn't think that he got anything right on that quiz. Ron didn't even get half way through the quiz. Hermione finished it before class was up; when she turned it in though, Snape gave her some extra questions to do.

"What a bloody terrible thing to do first day of classes!" Ron exclaimed once they were a good distance from the potions classroom.

"Even for him, that was pretty low," Harry agreed.

"C'mon, we have to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione.

The three sped off so as not to be late. Harry felt a bit nervous about this class; what in the world was he to expect? This was someone who apparently wanted to exploit him. In what way was this conducive to learning? All Harry could think was, Watch your step. Constant vigilance!

They were just feet away from entering the classroom. Most of the other Gryffindors were already inside and seated. Harry heart was beating a mile a minute. Here goes nothing…

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

"If this is how she does things, this professor will last as long as the rest," Seamus said after waiting for twenty minutes for their Defense professor to show up.

"Yeah, and she looked halfway cool, too," added Dean.

"Isn't there a time limit on how long we have to wait for a professor?" Ron asked. "I mean, don't we get to leave if they don't show up after a certain amount of time?"

"There is no such rule," informed Hermione. "It's just something someone made up."

"I thought that it had to be too good to be true," sighed Ron.

"Maybe she's been sacked already. Maybe Dumbledore found out who she really was," Harry said hopefully.

"Hello class. Sorry I'm late," Professor Skeeter had arrived. "I was already running late, and since it's been forever since I've been here, I got lost and became even later."

Harry noticed that she didn't look like she did when they saw her in Diagon Alley. Her robes simple and deep blue; her glasses were small and oval shaped. Besides the hair, one wouldn't think that she looked like or was related to Rita. She walked to the desk in the front of the room and set down a box of supplies she was carrying. Everyone in the room was tense; no one knew what to expect. She then reached in and pulled out a sheet and began to call role.

"Terry Boot?"

"Here.

I wonder what she'll do when she gets to my name?

"Seamus Finnigan?"

"Here."

"Hermione Granger?"

"Present," she responded as innocently as possible. Skeeter slightly raised her eyebrow when Hermione answered, but continued down the list.

She apparently remembers Hermione. Somehow, that doesn't bode well for me.

"Neville Longbottom?"

"Here ma'am."

Getting closer…

"Pavarti Patil?"

"Here."

"Harry Potter?"

Eep. "Here."

"Dean Thomas?"

"Present."

Hey wait a minute. She didn't do anything, not even an eyebrow! What in the world is she playing at?

"Ron Weasley?"

"Uh, here."

"Right, all present and accounted for. Now let's see," Skeeter leaned against the desk and appeared to be deep in thought. "Well, introductions on my part are in order, I suppose. My name is Anita Skeeter. Until this year, I was a free-lance writer for many things, including the Daily Prophet. However, I also have years of experience in combating the Dark Arts. Many articles that I have worked on have taken me to some dangerous places, so I had to know how to keep myself safe. I've studied with some of the greatest wizards and witches so that I could go and get the stories I wanted. In the end, all I am saying is that I am highly qualified and not another Lockheart."

The class laughed at this and everything became more relaxed. Harry couldn't help but smirk at the comment, too; however, he wasn't going to let his guard down. Skeeter was passing out packets of papers to all the students.

"O.W.L.s. You've got them this year. So it is up to me to make sure that you all know your stuff and can pass. Here's a packet with everything you need to know for the exam. We are going to spend the first few weeks this term reviewing everything so I can get a feel as to what level everyone is at. Then we will move on to defense against curses. After all this is a "Defense" against the Dark Arts class." Skeeter looked at her watch and seemed to be deciding something. "Well, I didn't have much planned for today, so feel free to leave. Read over your packets and tell me next class if there is anything that you are fuzzy on."

Everyone filed out of class, chatting excitedly about wonderful the new Defense professor was.

"Wow, that was great! We have an extra hour added to our lunch time," Ron exclaimed.

"She definitely seems to know what she is doing. I wonder more about her though, especially after the incident last summer. She seems like a completely different person," pondered Hermione.

"She does seem on the level and cool in class. But you know what they say, 'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,'" pointed out Harry.


"What's wrong with Greeks bearing gifts?" asked Ron.

"I swear, all you know about is food and quidditch," sighed Hermione.

*****

The rest of the day passed without much excitement. Harry went to the rest of his classes and for the most part, all of the professors talked about O.W.L.s and their importance. By the end of the day, Harry had a rather large stack of study packets. He didn't know how in the world he was going to remember everything for the exams.

That night in Gryffindor tower, everyone was talking excitedly about their first day. Fred and George were introducing themselves to the first years with their usual Ton-Tongue Toffees, Canary Creams and a new concoction, Pig Latin lollipops. These made whoever ate them speak in Pig Latin for the duration of the lollipop and a short time after it was finished. Harry and Ron were having a good laugh at them while playing a game of wizard chess. Hermione decided to spend her evening going through the packets and making a list of anything that she wasn't sure about.

"One of these days, I'll beat you." Harry had just lost his fourth consecutive game.

"No you won't you won't. You're a terrible player. Heck, even Ginny could beat you," Ron told him.

"I'm not that bad, am I?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Don't look at me. Chess isn't my game either," Hermione said not looking up from her packet.

"Alright then, fifth time is a charm." Harry began to set the board up again.

"Fine, I'll just beat you again," shrugged Ron.

Four games later, they all went to bed. Harry came close to beating Ron at one point, but only because they changed the rules for one game; Harry got two moves for every one of Ron's. Harry sleepily put on his pajamas and climbed into bed. Before he could even reflect on what kind of day it was, Harry was asleep.

Author's Note: Nothing like some Run DMC while writing. It's tricky, tricky tricky tricky. Anywho, yes, I did feel a bit bad that I left another cliffie; kind of knew that I was going to use Anita, but I had to work it out before I committed. I was trying to get this one out quicker, but I guess I have the same old excuses as usual. Unfortunately, I have bad news. I have to begin work on a term paper (for you non-college types, this is an incredibly long paper, about 20 pgs, going in-depth on some boring subject, in this case, the diplomacy involved in the creation of the Panama Canal. I'm going to title it, "Dig a hole, dig a hole, dig a hole!") Sadly, my creative-type writing will be on hold, but don't fret! I've asked a friend of mine to guest write chap. 9. We are discussing and working things out. I see it as a way to get the break I need and a way to keep the story going. I will be guiding her and approving everything of course. So I guess we'll see how this goes. Agent 99, thanks for the kudos! And thanks to those of you who kept on bugging me and/or sent me emails with suggestions; there too many of y'all to list, which is most excellent J If you'd like an email when I post again, just leave your email address in your review. I'll check them and add them to my list for updates. Well, I guess that is it for now. I'll catch y'all on the flip side. ¡Adios amigos! And don't forget to review.