Disclaimer: If I really owned the Harry Potter phenomenon, why would I be dousing it out for free?
GINNY WEASLEY HOUSEWARMING PARTY DRAMATIC AND TOUCHING
By Margarita A. Li
SIX
Margarita sat at her desk, unsure of what to write. Charm, talent, good looks, athletic obsession, League connections; each journalist at The Q's and A's had these. What many of them had forgotten in their years of struggling to become a name the readers were addicted to was their integrity. Everybody had it.
B.B. Finley, a redheaded Irish girl who was known primarily as Finley, was brought up by her uncle and aunt in a nice part of Belfast, with money, talent, intelligence, athletic obsession and feisty sex appeal. She was dedicated to her work, and had an on-and-off relationship with the owner of the Appleby Arrows, the striking Patrick Cadell.
A.J. Lubbock, an African-American who had grown up on Quodpot, as Margarita had found herself forced to be interested in while schooling in the States, was the son of an athletic shop owner back in Lafayette, Louisiana, and his sharp sense of dress and his adorably stupid, puppy-dog like charm won over many of the executives at athletic companies across England, and he loved freebies more than anything else in the world.
Sophia de Medici, an Italian girl with parentage working for Gringotts since the beginning of the bank, had pale skin and dark hair and a keen business sense that basically said, "Don't fuck with me." She was entirely absorbed in her work and her intimidating stature required no charm to get her stories. Her father had purchased four top box tickets at every World Cup for the rest of time—not an inexpensive feat. Reportedly, the amount of Galleons it took to pay for the tickets annually was in the thousands. And traveling to the obscure locations where the World Cup wasn't cheap, either.
Cho Chang, although sweet and intelligent, was not devoted to The Q's and A's. She worked for the League office and, on account of never being offered a regular column, was always fairly miffed and would easily sell a story to The Witch Weekly over The Q's and A's if they offered just a Knut more.
Unfortunately, she had also been invited to the housewarming party and she would willingly dish out what Margarita failed to. Fortunately, she didn't have a photographer with her.
"Summerby!" Margarita exclaimed, poking her head out of her office. Margarita was the most featured writer at The Q's and A's, and her office was the same size as the associate editor's. "Do you have those photos yet?"
"In a slump, Li?" Finley asked almost nicely.
It was common practice for the staff of The Q's and A's to base their stories on the information illustrated by Summerby's images.
"Yeah, something like that." She answered, trying to keep the pained tone out of her voice.
"Don't beat your head against a wall, Maggie." A.J. told her with a grin, leaning back out of his (rather large) cubicle. "We all have trouble sometimes."
"Yeah, but we're not all the star reporters, now are we?" Cho asked with a sniff.
"And it's usually not the first issue of the year that we have trouble with. I mean, it's so simple, Maggie." Sophia said in an oily tone, her upper lip curling up to the hook of her long nose. "Just do an overview of everything this year. Highlights and the lowlights of 2003. I mean, honestly."
"Some of us have more talent than others, Soph." A.J. retorted coldly, his eyes narrowed.
"And some of us wouldn't stoop to such desperate measures just to get published." Finley added. "Summerby!"
Margarita smiled appreciatively at A.J. and Finley, leaning in the doorway of her office. The Q's and A's office was on the third floor of a building in Diagon Alley, next to Quality Quidditch Supplies ironically.
Summerby finally showed up, with each of his photos in plastic wrap. "Come on, now, Li."
Margarita turned into her office and Summerby closed the door behind him.
"Alright, so we have a photo of Kirley McCormack-Duke giving a speech, all the people waiting for the elevator, focusing mainly on Catriona and Meghan McCormack-Duke in their golden robes. We have a picture of Charlie, Fred, George, Ron and Ginny Weasley, chatting it up with our own Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson and Harry Potter. We have Benjamin Turner and his brood talking with some of Ginny's business managers. We have Michael Corner and Luna Lovegood chatting over dinner, and then we've got—"
Margarita admired each of the photos as Summerby tossed them down in front of her on her desk until he came to the one of her and Oliver talking after dinner before the conversation got intimate.
"You've got to include it, Maggie." Summerby said after Margarita was silent for a moment, horrified at the image.
"Why?" She asked, rolling her chair over to her typewriter, where she hadn't begun the article.
"Because he's one of the top bachelors in the country and frankly, let's face it, the glitterati side of this business is what you always end up reporting on." Summerby told her frankly, sitting back in one of her leather wing chairs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Come on, Maggie, you can't be agonizing over the legitimacy of it all; no one has to know what you were talking about."
"It's an invasion of my privacy, Summerby." Maggie answered coolly, beginning to type.
"Your whole career is an invasion of somebody's privacy, particularly Ginny Weasley's, because let's face it, she provides the most juice!" Summerby shouted, standing up abruptly. "You can't make exceptions, Maggie, you know that! If you made exceptions before, you'd be out there in a bloody crap cubicle just like the rest of us! You're ruthless, remember?"
"No, I'm dignified!" Maggie retorted, stopping at the first sentence of her article.
"Don't tell me Duke's crap speech got to you too!" Summerby continued.
"This volatility doesn't seem to be directed at me anymore, John." Maggie replied quietly after a moment.
"Are you shitting me?" Summerby demanded in a high-pitched voice. "I could give a flying Kneazle!"
"It was a dream, wasn't it? Lead photographer with the lead reporter. Would've been such a beautiful team outside the office, but it didn't work, Summerby, and you can't punish me by forcing me to publish a slice of my life." Maggie said calmly.
"So you're saying there is something between you and—" He spat the name, "Wood?"
"No, I didn't say that." Maggie turned her eyes back to the typewriter and began again. "Besides, Katie's not going to like it."
"Katie's the one who told me to make sure it got in." Summerby snapped finally. "Make it in, or you're suspended."
Summerby stormed out of her office and Maggie's eyes, huge and welling with tears, slowly pulled upwards to see Katie Bell talking to Cho, anxiously looking towards Maggie every few seconds.
Maggie rose to close the curtains of her office and began to cry.
Ginny Weasley rose for an early morning practice, not bothering to shower knowing that Oliver's tyranny would just get her dirty all over again, and was surprised to see that Harry was sitting in her kitchen, reading a magazine and eating a bagel.
"You're right." He said a few awkward moments later, as she prepared a complete breakfast of ham, cereal, milk, a grapefruit, an egg and a carrot.
"Am I?" She asked, beginning to tuck in, relishing the salty goodness of the ham.
Harry put down the article, which featured full color, moving photos. "I am—I have been miserable around you for the majority of the time that I've ever really talked to you. So you of all people would know when I am miserable."
Ginny's eye caught on a photo of Oliver and the reporter, Margarita.
"And I have a purpose." Ginny looked up at him, her mouth full and her eyes questioning. "Quidditch was the only activity that kept me from thinking of my troubles—everybody's troubles. I missed it so much during the Triwizard Tournament, and I missed it even more when I was suspended from it. I missed my friends and Quidditch when I was away, and now that I don't have a legal obligation to worry about everybody else's troubles—"
"Even though you'll continue to anyhow." Ginny said affectionately, trying to subtly take in her entire bowl of cereal in one gulp.
Harry smiled. "Right. Well, now that I don't have a legal obligation to worry about everybody's troubles, I can get back to the one thing that made me forget it all." He gulped. "This is what I really want to do, Gin."
GINNY WEASLEY HOUSEWARMING PARTY DRAMATIC AND TOUCHING
By Margarita A. Li
It almost seemed like a who's who in the League, ladies' companies, publishing, and in Ginny Weasley's heart. Over a hundred and fifty people showed up for Ginny Weasley's housewarming party at her new estate in Scotland, including the entire of the Puddlemere United team, friends, family, ex-boyfriends, managers and representatives of the companies she works for.
The guests waited in the gigantic, sophisticated yet oddly comforting foyer to take turns up the elevator, a Muggle installment similar to the process of entering the Ministry of Magic's office. Mother and sister of Ginny's close friend Kirley Duke, both Catriona and Meghan McCormack-Duke of the Portree Prides, were among the honored guests who might have felt out of place at the Puddlemere-dominated party. (See Photo 1 of Catriona and Meghan McCormack-Duke.)
Family and friends caught up like a reunion in Ginny's massive dining room, which was sectioned into fifteen tables of some of the most glittering names in England. (See Photo 2 of Weasley brothers Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron with sister Ginny, Harry Potter, our editor-in-chief Katie Bell, the head of the League Draft, Alicia Spinnet, and the manager of Puddlemere United, Angelina Johnson.) I was lucky enough to sit next to the reigning bachelor of England, Oliver Wood. (See Photo 3 of yours truly and Oliver Wood.)
Kirley McCormack-Duke planned and broke in the party with a lovely and heartwarming speech about Ginny's humble but loving roots, including many of the things the press often leaves out. By doing so, we all felt closer to Ginny, and soon, she could possibly be named 'Quidditch Sweetheart of 2003'.
Oliver winced, putting down the article. Definitely one of Maggie's worst. She had written better pieces when she was fourteen. Harry sat down next to Oliver, both freshly-showered.
"Yeah, it's kind of sad, isn't it?" Harry asked quietly, twiddling his thumbs. "I mean, I kept up with the Quidditch news through her in the States. She's a legend there, too, but for different reasons."
Oliver let out a hollow laugh. "Don't I know it."
"There's something awry here, Oliver." Harry said, getting up when Ginny entered, looking a bit distracted.
"Good work today, team." Oliver muttered, ducking his head and exiting.
"I'm disappointed, Li." Katie said, and Maggie looked up from the article she had been reading. Katie Bell stood in the doorway of her office, looking saddened.
"Yeah, I know." Came the hollow reply. Katie looked around Maggie's office and noticed a few of her things had come down. Perhaps in a bitter rage, Katie didn't know.
Katie and Maggie had never really been close. Maggie had begun working at The Q's and A's at the same time Katie had. Making the freelance and famous sports reporter Margarita Li a regular columnist of the new magazine guaranteed the kind of readers the magazine's owner wanted. And that meant Katie would have to put up with her.
Personally, Katie didn't have very much to hate Maggie for. By the time Maggie had begun working at The Q's and A's, Oliver had already begun dating Katie, a dream that had followed Katie from Hogwarts. The rumors of Maggie and Oliver had long since past, and it was so short-lived it was nearly insignificant—until Katie noticed the comfort between the pair when they had run into each other near Maggie's then office—a cubicle, and the suspicious distance between Katie and her boyfriend to follow. They had had two and half years of experimental sex, long distances, romantic reunions, pregnancy scares, meeting the parents, running into exes, and rumors of Oliver's infidelity—they'd survived it all and Katie had been convinced that they were going to work.
Until she saw the kind of chemistry between Maggie and Oliver off the field that Katie had thought Oliver could only have on the field. Katie had pulled out all stops, from sexy to romantic, but after six months, it was clear that things weren't going well, and they broke off quietly.
And Katie was surprised that if felt good. The six months that the relationship had gone dwindling out of existence had actually helped her. She did not need a rebound, she did not need help, and she could actually have a strong friendship with Oliver. No strings attached. So when she met Mark and got the complete devotion that she needed, with the same level of experience, they hit it off instantly, and Katie had thought she had gotten over her crush on Oliver for good.
So all bitterness towards her star reporter had been dropped, until she had heard that exotic touch to an American accent being forced to be friendly with some of Katie's best friends…like a new girlfriend running into the crowd at the market. So when she'd seen that photo…she'd made a mistake.
Namely, she'd invaded her ex-boyfriend, ex-teammate and close friend's privacy. Secondly, Katie had crossed the thin line between good gossip about Quidditch and plain good gossip—which, ironically, wasn't good for you at all. In addition, she had intentionally done so to hurt her star reporter. And lastly, Katie had lost a scrap of dignity.
While Katie had been contemplating this, she noticed that Maggie had pretty much packed up most of her belongings.
"I'm sorry. It was an immature thing to do." Katie said finally, as Maggie shrank boxes to be taken to her flat.
Maggie nodded. "Yes it was."
"I'm over him, you know." Katie added a bit stubbornly. "It just—"
"Hurt?" Maggie asked coldly.
"Yeah." Katie whispered, looking off to the side.
"Yeah, well, you aren't the only one." Maggie muttered. "Do you have anything else to say?"
"Look, everyone has a bad article once in a while…" Katie trailed off, and she began to get frustrated. She wasn't a bad person, so why was it so hard for Margarita to accept her apology? "Look, it's not like you need the money anyway, aren't you rich?"
"Damn it, Katie, it's not the money!" Maggie shrieked, finally losing her cool. "Katie, if it was about the money, if it was about the article, good GOD, I would just be looking for another job and that'd be it. But it's more than that. My boss betrayed me by intentionally setting me up to put my life in the limelight. I'm not one of your other bloodsucking columnists—I've been there, I've done that, and I don't want to be in this because I'm Oliver Wood's WHATEVER! Because that's what it would be. She writes one bad article and yet she stays on because of her connections—I CAN'T STAY LIKE THAT. Say I publish another bad article. Everyone who's anyone in this business will think back to that article and I will be the one hanging by a string called Oliver Wood." Maggie reached for the latch of her owl's cage. "And don't think it wouldn't be like that, Kate."
Katie gulped. "I'll have some recommendation letters drawn up then."
Maggie met Katie's eyes sadly. "Thank you. I'm sorry it had to end this way."
Katie nodded. "I am too."
Ginny, Oliver, Harry and a Puddlemere Beater named Alex walked into the Three Broomsticks, noting the slow comings and goings. "I made sure it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend," Alex told them, "My sister is a seventh year up at the school, and some of her little friends are probably here anyway."
Rosmerta was tickled that they'd come to visit the Three Broomsticks, as Oliver was known for dodging the press, and Alex usually took to meals in London when he was hungry. They got a nice table in the dark and began to discuss life in general.
"I'd really like to tap into the Turner brood, but we don't need three Chasers, nor do we need a new Seeker, or a new Keeper, and I have too much chemistry with Natalie." Alex said as the other three ordered drinks.
"Yes, they'd be magnificent on a team, but they're a bit green…put them on the Wanderers, or something, they need the marketing." Ginny drawled, and they all laughed.
"Too bad Li doesn't work with The Q's and A's anymore, else they'd have a hell of a publicist." Harry added, and Oliver, who had been staring off into space, became more alert.
"What?" He asked, leaning forward.
"Didn't you hear, Wood?" Alex asked with a confused scowl. "Your little girlfriend quit the magazine this morning."
"She's not my girlfriend." Oliver replied in a hollow voice.
"Whatever. She and Katie Bell had a huge row this morning, and oddly enough, it wasn't about the quality of the writing." Alex shrugged. "She's looking at working for either the Prophet or her sister's team, the All-Stars."
"You mean the one in the States?" Ginny asked softly after a moment. "The one in Texas?"
Alex nodded. "Yeah. Her sister owled me about it this afternoon. Said Maggie was so upset about the photo Katie ordered into the piece that she just published that she quit. Said she couldn't work in an environment where the editor isn't all for the team."
"Katie?" Oliver reiterated with confusion. "Katie Bell?"
"Yes, Oliver, do keep up." Alex chattered. "They came to proper terms of course, Katie apologized, but Maggie said that her career would be at a standstill if she was kept on after such an awful article."
"She can't go to the States!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, and all eyes fell on him. "I know she's something of a gossip columnist, but she's got integrity."
"It's her home, though." Ginny added softly.
"No, it's not." Oliver snapped suddenly, standing abruptly. "I'll pay you back for the butterbeer."
"Forget it, mate." Alex said, gulping. "Where you going?"
"To London." Oliver muttered, reaching for his cloak that hung over his chair.
"Um, I think I'll join you." Alex said, his face coloring. "Maggie's sister is in town and…"
"Amanda?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows. Alex's face looked like it was going to explode, but he nodded and then followed Oliver as he stormed out of Rosmerta's.
"Oh, the butterbeer wasn't spoiled, was it?" Rosmerta cooed, rushing over to Harry and Ginny.
"Oh, no, Rosmerta, they just had some business to handle." Ginny said sweetly, and Rosmerta fanned herself with relief.
"Oh, good. Can I take your order?" Harry and Ginny both ordered in soft voices and then, as Rosmerta tittered away, turned to each other with grins.
"Finally." Harry said, letting out his voice on an exhale. "It seems like an eternity since we've been alone."
"Harry, we live in the same house!" Ginny giggled. "Feeling settled now?"
Harry laughed nervously. "As settled as can be."
Ginny reached for one of the spare butterbeers. "You're lucky, you know. It takes some people a lifetime to get to that place."
Harry nodded, his eyes clouding over. "Then how'd you get there so fast?"
Ginny sharply inhaled, finishing off the rest of the two butterbeers before her. "It helps to have six predecessors who have done it all, you know?"
Harry nodded absently.
"I mean, really, every thing I ever considered when I was young, they already did. Work for Gringotts, tame exotic animals, work for the Ministry, start my own business, have a famous friend—and then in my fourth year, I saw Ron play and I thought 'I could do better than that'. And that's when my competitive streak began—and I guess I overdid it. I just want to outdo my brothers, Harry, and I found something I loved in the process." Ginny giggled madly. "Harry, you've always wanted to piece together that puzzle—your lineage. And when you found out what had really happened to them, you wanted to avenge. And you have. Oh, Harry, you have!"
Ginny reached for Harry's butterbeer and he yanked it away from her. "Ginny!"
"I don't want to feel guilty about seducing you." Ginny whispered with a giggle, having already downed the other butterbeer on the table.
"So you have to get yourself giddy-drunk?" Harry asked, leaping up, offended.
"No, Harry, don't take it personally, please!" Ginny leapt up after him. "If I screw this up—I'd rather not remember." She reached again for his butterbeer, and he let go of it.
"Ginny…I don't want a repeat of Christmas." Harry whispered gravely, and she put down the bottle and tripped into his arms. "You can't do this now. We're practicing."
"Don't you think I know it?" Ginny snapped, struggling to get out of his arms, but finding his strength matched hers. In her slightly inebriated state, she was weaker.
"You had convulsions, Gin, you were so upset and so gone." Harry reminded her, his breath hot on her ear.
Ginny whimpered and Harry pulled her close. "I want you to remember everything."
Four butterbeers and Ginny was no longer giddy—she was ready to pass out. Harry scooped her up, rolling his eyes. "Sorry, Rosmerta…it's been a long day. Send the bill to me."