Disclaimer- (sung to the tune of "My Favorite Things" of the Sound of Music)

Retitled "My Favorite Things of Harry Potter That I Still Don't Own"

Harry and Ronnie and Crookshanks the kitten

Remus and Ginny and Ron's maroon mittens

Magical cards that endlessly sing

These are a few of my favorite things!

Giant black spiders and boggarts and veelas

Redheaded twins whose pranks are a steal-a

Evil Dark Lords who kill everything

These are a few of my favorite things!

Ron in his dress robes and Harry's first kiss

Harry's cool scar knows when something's amiss

Dumbledore who can do anything

These are a few of my favorite things!

When the dragon bites

When the Skrewt stings

When I'm feeling sad

I simply remember my favorite things

And then I don't feel... so bad!

Authoress's Note- All due credits for the inspiration to make a singing disclaimer go to The Noble Platypus (who actually had a singing thank you to reviewers to the tune of "My Favorite Things") , authoress of some of the coolest Lord of the Rings parodies in FanFiction and who wasnice enough to come and read and review my story after I read hers! (Thanks, Platy!) Anyway we have reached... CHAPTER TWO! Not much else to say; the crazy isn't coming for the authoress's note. -sighs- Oh well. E.D.J.

Thanks for the reviews!

p0pptartt- I'm glad you liked the story!

The Noble Platypus- Thank you again for reading my fic! I'm glad you find it highly amusing. I'll be sure to check out your Harry Potter fic soon! (I believe I started the first chapter, but then I did something... don't remember! -waves hands vaguely-) Yes I'm glad you loved all my reviews, I love your fics! You deserve them all! Oh and your author's page is high-freaking-larious! I love the quotes! They're insane!

Harry Lvr- Why would I be sick of someone who reviews so faithfully? I love lots of reviews! I'm glad you love all my fics! And skip the book, how dare you?! Kidding! I've had finals and studying for finals andreviewing for finals in class all these last few weeks so I haven't had the chance to update or write much of the book anyway! I'm glad you want to read it! When and IF it gets published, I'm going to have to put some sign on it that says THIS IS THE BOOK BY ELLADORA D. JOBBERKNOLL THAT MADE HER NEGLECT HER FANFICTION SO! Hee hee.


Chapter 2- The Mentor

As soon as her watch hit five thirty, the end of her official workday, Rita shot out of the Daily Prophet office building as if she had an angry herd of centaurs on her tail. She quickly apparated to her flat and, with a slight sigh, murmured the charm to unlock the door.

Rita stepped inside and tossed her tattered purse on the kitchen table. With a flick of her wand, the flat illuminated, shining light down on the shabby furniture and general smallness of the flat. Of course Rita didn't have that strange Muggle lighting, 'electkricy' or whatever, not many wizards did and only the rather eccentric ones at that. Frankly, Rita thought the whole concept a bit dicey. A bit of wire surrounded by glass, creating light? She'd stick to nice safe magic any day thank you very much.

She tossed her wand onto the table next to her purse and surveyed her flat, taking in the dingy walls and grimy floor. She'd worked six years for this?

Rita was roused out of her thoughts by a loud bang. She jumped, startled to see a large grey owl hovering outside her window. She quickly opened the window, muttering, "Dumb bird."

The owl hooted indignantly as she took the copy of the Evening Prophet from its beak and thrust a few Knuts into the pouch attached to its leg. As soon as the owl had flapped back outside, Rita smoothed the newspaper and glanced at the front page.

"Three More Disappearances Reported: 'You-Know-Who' Suspected" screamed the title.

As Rita read the article, she felt a thrill of adrenaline rush through her veins. This was real journalism; this was what Harding wanted. However, how could she, a twenty something nobody, write front-page material and in three weeks for Merlin's sake?

Rita sighed and glanced back at the article again. She noticed the small words 'by Morwenna Carleton' written under the title. Now this was a successful female journalist. If only she could meet Ms. Carleton and figure out how she got that spark Mr. Harding wanted then…

Interesting. A slight smile curled Rita's lips. She would prove Mr. Harding wrong and this woman was the exact person to help her do it.


The next morning, Rita positively sprang out of bed, eager to get to work for the first time.

She eyed herself critically in the bathroom mirror. Merlin, she looked like a wreck. Her blouse and skirt were terribly wrinkled. She never had mastered that Ironing Charm. She had a better chance of setting her close on fire than actually getting them to look somewhat presentable.

Her skin was taut and pale from some many years spent indoors at her desk. If she ever did get to be a well-paid journalist, the first thing she'd ask for was an assignment outside in the sun. She practically looked like a vampire for Merlin's sake! Not that there was anything wrong with vampires. A few of them worked on the same floor as Rita at the Daily Prophet. They were usually quite nice and charming when they weren't staring at your neck. She could be around one of them if they remembered to keep their fangs to themselves.

Tossing her blonde hair, Rita gave herself a final look in the mirror before deciding to hell with it and apparating to the Daily Prophet lobby.

She stepped up to the main desk and spoke to the raven-haired Welcome Witch: "Hello, I'm Rita Skeeter; I work on level six. Would it be possible for you to tell me where Ms. Morwenna Carleton's office is?"

The woman directed her to level two, third hallway on her left. Rita apparated up to the second level of the building and found herself face to face with another desk, this one occupied by a plump, brown-haired receptionist.

Rita cleared her throat and the receptionist asked in a slightly bored tone, "How can I help you, Miss-"

"Skeeter," Rita supplied. "I was wondering if it would be possible for me to speak with Ms. Morwenna Carleton."

The receptionist slowly looked up at her, taking in her wrinkled clothes and pallid skin. "Do you have an appointment with Ms. Carleton? It's common knowledge that she doesn't like to be disturbed during work hours."

"Ah… yes, I do have an appointment!" Rita lied quickly, noticing the sheet of parchment on the receptionist's desk labeled 'Daily Appointments.' "Though I believe my boss scheduled it under her own name." She frantically tried to read the parchment upside down without looking too obvious about it. "I'm sorry, I'm new here, so her name may be a little garbled. I believe its Meara (A/N- pronounced mee-ra) Re…Ren…Reno..."

"Oh do you mean Meara Renovo?" asked the receptionist, glancing down at the sheet of parchment.

"Yes that's it!" said Rita, relieved. "Now should I go right in or wait here-"

"Oh but it says here your boss's appointment has been cancelled," said the receptionist, scrutinizing the sheet of parchment.

"Well erm…she was called to a meeting with Mr. Harding, so Ms. Renovo sent me instead," she began, squirming uncomfortably. "I could have sworn she mentioned sending an owl to Ms. Carleton, but sometimes Ms. Renovo gets a little… absentminded."

"Ah," said the receptionist shortly. "Well I suppose you can go in." She motioned to the oak door behind her. "Mind you, keep the meeting short; Ms. Carleton's very busy."

Rita nodded and quietly walked over, opening the door silently. She was blinded by an array of bright sunlight shining into the large oak-paneled office. A slender blonde in her mid-thirties was scribbling away furiously at the highly polished desk.

She continued writing as she asked without glancing up, "Oriana, is that you with my morning tea? Just sent it on the desk. Did you remember…" Morwenna trailed off as she looked up to see not her receptionist, but a bespectacled blonde stranger in her office. "You're not Oriana," she said faintly. "Get out of my office."

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Carleton. I didn't mean to intrude, it's just that I need some advice," said Rita rapidly, wringing in her hands.

"Fine then," said Morwenna, motioning to the chair in front of her desk. "You have five minutes." That was Morwenna Carleton for you. Straight and to the point.

"Alright, well I'm Rita Skeeter and I've worked for two and a half years as one of the struggling 'wannabes' who reports directly to the Editor-in-Chief. I've yet to have anything published, except this tiny bit on some weirdo who was an alternate for the Tutshill Tornadoes and was selling potions made of the team's toenail clippings on the black market. Disgusting if you ask me, but that's beside the point. I-"

"Wait a minute, stop right there," said Morwenna, holding up a hand. "You mean to tell me that you've worked two and a half years for 'Hard-Arse' Harding withoutpublishing anything worthwhile and he's still kept you around?"

Rita nodded.

"Wow, either he thinks you've got some sort of hidden potential or ol' Hardy's gone soft," Morwenna quipped. "Very interesting. Continue."

"All right, I've got one last chance to write something brilliant or else my arse is fired. Harding says I need the spark that keeps people reading. You're writing front-page news on 'You-Know-Who'! Can you help me?" Rita pulled a tiny filing case out of her purse and enlarged it with a wave of her wand. "I have copies of all of my articles right here."

"Ah, let's see," said Morwenna, taking the filing case. She skimmed over every article Rita had ever written in about ten minutes flat. "These are good, these are actually very good. Well maybe the most recent cleaning products one not so much," she said, handing the case back to Rita. "I'm just going to give you one bit of advice, Rita. You have to be less focused on the truth and honesty of your article. You're here to sell newspapers; you're not in the Miss World Witch pageant."

"But isn't that what people are looking for?" asked Rita, confused. "The truth?"

"No!" said Morwenna so loudly that Rita jumped a foot off her seat. "And you know why? Because, more often than not, the truth is boring. Completely and utterly boring. You know what people want? Scandal, dark secrets, hidden skeletons coming out of closets, heartbreak, jealously, betrayal! Did it sound like I mentioned truth or honesty anywhere in there?"

Rita shook her head.

"Exactly, Rita. You let that sink in and come back to me when you think you've got something," Morwenna waved carelessly at the door. "I have to have this article on Albus Dumbledore being appointed to the Wizengamot on Harding's desk by five o'clock."

"Thank you for the advice, Ms. Carleton," said Rita, standing up.

"Call me Morwenna," said the woman, shaking Rita's hand. "And, Rita?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck. Blow us all away."


So what did you all think of Morwenna? I personally love her, but then again I'm the one who created her so... -whistles innocently- Tell me what you think! E.D.J.