Reporting for the Daily Prophet, Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I didn't know how I wanted things to happen in the chapter, and I'm not too sure I like the beginning. Beginnings are always hard… at least for me.

Chapter 6, More Serious Matters

Thursday and Friday flew by in anticipation of my Saturday date with James. Yes, I am officially going out with James Potter, and I have no qualms with saying it out loud.

Saturday morning was spent at work taping Sports Desk.

When I was walking back to my cubicle (You'd think that with all the hard work I've done, I would at least have gotten an office… but NOO!), I saw James' owl, Hermes, come swooping in.

"6:00 at Madame Rosmerta's. We can spend the evening around Hogsmeade if you want," it read, finalizing our plans for tonight.

James is such a sweetie. He's always sending me flowers and chocolate and letters. His poor Hermes is probably sick of flying in and out of the Daily Prophet headquarters.

"Fine by me," I wrote back on the note, sending Hermes off. Not before giving the sweet owl a treat, though.

I checked over my question list for the game tomorrow against the Chudley Cannons. It's going to be the easiest win in the season. The Cannons haven't won since, well, I can't remember. The Pride of Portree won the last game against the Magpies, ending their 21 game winning streak.

I packed up my stuff and headed down the elevator and out the main entrance.

What I did not know was that it was POURING outside. As soon as I had stepped out of the door, I was sopping wet.

The water from the heavens showed no signs of stopping (Or even letting up), so I decided to run for it. Under awnings I dodged, trying to stay as dry as possible (It was a lame attempt. Really.)

As I rushed into my building, I realized I could have just apparated home. Pah.

I had to dry and change into nice, warm clothes for the night.

I put on a pair of faded, worn jean slacks and white turtleneck with a gray jacket (its cold at night in November). It was similar to the one I had worn on my first date with James. It's funny how your subconscious picks something out that means a lot to you.

And it does have lots of meaning. Not the outfit, the date.

That day (And the ones after) I had found out what a special person James Potter was; how caring, sweet, and loveable he could be.

No matter what happens that day will always be in my heart as one of the happiest days of my life.

I had permanently set up my fireplace to the Floo network, so it wasn't unusual for a head to appear in my hearth (It did give me the heebie-jeebies the first time it happened)

James came tumbling through my fireplace, dusted himself off and we apparated to the designated arriving point at Hogsmeade (Every major tourist attraction site had one, order of the Ministry, Magical Transportation decree #22).

"It's dinner time now. I bet the Three Broomsticks is really busy right now. Why don't we go later after everyone's left?" James asked.

"Sure. We could go down to the town centre, there's a choir there, I think."

We spent a wonderful evening strolling around Hosmeade, holding hands and smiling all the time.

I tell you, James Potter is the only person I know who can hold hands and still look handsome. Well, if you exclude Sirius and Remus; but they're expected too. They're the Marauders for crying out loud.

Anyway, we had a nice dinner at the 3 Broomstick, isolated in a booth by a window.

We've just finished desert and I've realized that all those butterbeers I drank… er, nature has began calling me.

While washing my hands at the sinks, I noticed some of my co-workers talking at the other end of the sinks.

Being the nosy curious eavesdropper that I am, I listened in on their conversation.

To this day, I'm not sure whether what I heard was true.

"You know Lily Evans right? The one who worked on front page, but was move to sports?"

"She has red hair, right?"

My pride and joy.

"Yeah, her. Well anyway, I was heading to the main editor's office, George, yeah, he invited me for tea. You know how he is. The tea was just lovely by the way. I'll tell you about it some other time."

I don't think the girl was at the editor's office for tea… If you catch my drift.

"Oh dear, I'm getting off my point. Anyway he had left a paper on his desk with people they were thinking of sacking… you know, in the nearby future. You know how I am, I just had to have a look see, I mean, there could be valuable information on that list.

"Guess whose name was on the list?"

"WHO?"

Even though Miss. Dumb-dumb over there had no clue, I had a pretty clear idea of who was gonna get sacked.

"Why, Lily Evans of course! I don't know when though, I mean she was at the bottom of the list. I guess they could take her off. She is pretty valuable. You know how well she's doing in the sports department. MAN! What I would die for if I had her job. 3 different shows! I only write reports. She must be rolling."

If I was rolling in money, would I still be at the Prophet?!

No.

Truth be told, the Daily Prophet is going to the DOGS! I would leave if I could, it would be nice. But I can't.

And now they're gonna SACK me? I helped them make the Prophet what it is today, and they're just gonna blow me OFF?!

3 years; 3 freaking years; 3 years of hard work, overtime and long days. All for what?!

Nothing.

Not one single thing.

Nada

Zip

Zero

I slammed the water faucet shut, grabbed a paper towel and stalked out of the bathroom.

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3 weeks have been gone by. Every single day of those 3 weeks I have been scared stiff.

Where would I go if I got sacked? What would I do? How could I make a living of something other than reporting? There was no way I would go to the Quibbler, or Witch Weekly, no sireebob!

The answer to my perplexing questions came from Hogwarts.

Well, more or less.

It was Wednesday 3 weeks after I overheard that conversation in the loo.

I walked into my flat to find an owl sitting on my kitchen counter.

I untied the note from the owl's outstretched claw and watched as it hooted and flew away.

It read:

Dear Ms. Evans:

I would be honored if you would accept this invitation to Hogwarts tomorrow night at 6.

It will be an informational meeting concerning the brining down of him who calls himself "Lord Voldemort." I have decided that since the Ministry of Magic is doing very little to stop him and his band of followers that I had should create my own group of persons to do just about everything that the Ministry of Magic isn't.

If you decide to join, it is mandatory that you come to this meeting. If you choose not to join, your presence is still required so that your memory can be wiped of all information concerning the order.

I know it seems a little out of hand, buy we cannot afford any blunders.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

There was absolutely no way I would pass up a chance like this.

The letter made me realize one of the most important realizations in my life.

I personally felt that the Ministry of Magic was not doing enough about Voldemort and if nothing was going to happen there, couldn't I do something about it?

Yes.

There was this saying that my sister Petunia (While we were still on good speaking terms) used to say to me: "If you don't like what's being done, or what's not, do your best to do the right thing."

She told me that when I was in grammar school. A playground bully was picking on a boy my age and I was complaining about the bully to my sister.

"And did you just stand there and watch, Lils?"

"What was I supposed to do? I would have gotten beat up if I said anything."

"Would it be worth helping out that boy? I betcha if you stood up to that bully, the bully would get scared. Bullies are the most insecure people."

I had a lot to ponder about that day.

I did stand up for that boy. I stood tall in front of him, blocking the bully's path, and spoke as harshly as I could to that bully. I spoke my mind to him, I did.

I made a bunch of new friends, too; fair weather friends, though.

All but one.

Daniel Pedersen, the little boy who was getting picked on.

Ironically, he got a Hogwarts letter the same week I did.

While we've strayed apart a little at Hogwarts, we've been together through thick and thin. He's on the quidditch team with James.

But, I've strayed from my point.

There's more than one way to take down a playground bully, and in my large playground, I decided to face an even larger bully.

Voldemort

---------

I just signed my name on that forbidding looking piece of parchment.

I, along with those infamous Marauders and my friends, have just dedicated our lives to defeating Voldemort and his sick followers.

James motioned for me to stay after with him.

One by one, Remus, Sirius, Peter, Arabella, Sabra, Mariah, Kinsley Shacklebolt, and a few others filed out of the room.

"Would you like to go on a walk around the grounds?" James asked

"Of course."

Hand in hand we stepped onto one of the floating floats that gently took us down and out of Dumbledore's office.

Out, we walked, onto the castle grounds.

We walked around in silence for awhile, watching the golden sun illuminate the sky and then disappear, only lighting up the back of the surrounding mountains.

If any muggle photographer had seen us at that precise moment, they would have jumped out, taken a snapshot and whisper "Kodak moment."

I smiled at that thought.

"So what do you think?" He asked me.

"Dumbledore said that inside information is always needed. Did he mean Death Eater inside information or Ministry inside information?"

"Both, I suppose. Couldn't help to have either. The Ministry isn't doing too well with dealing with Voldemort. He's getting stronger each passing day."

"You say his name," I stated.

"Who's?"

"Voldemort's."

"Well, yeah. Fear of a name-"

"Only increases fear of the person. I know. I used his name in my articles. I guess that's why I'm getting the slip."

"You're getting sacked?!" Concern almost immediately spread over his face.

"Well, not for awhile… I think." I told him about what I overheard that night in the bathroom.

"So you might not get sacked at all!"

"Yeah, but I kind of wished I could leave the newspaper. It's going to the dogs you know. It's a mess. If I had somewhere else to go, I would. But there isn't another competent newspaper or magazine, right now."

"I was thinking about that also. I mean, what good is quidditch gonna do to help stop Voldemort? What're we going to do, lure him to a quidditch game and then pounce? I don't think so."

There was a lull in our conversation where both of us were off in our own worlds.

"I just wish there was someway to work against Voldemort and get paid," We said at the same time.

We both laughed nervously.

"Oh, look over there." All the Hogwarts students were making their way inside the castle.

"Must be curfew. Shall we leave, my fair lady?"

"We shall."

We walked out to Hogsmeade where I saw a notice to 7th year Hogwarts students and "Those who were interested."

"The Ministry of Magic wants YOU!" it read, "join the Ministry of Magic's auror task force and be a part of serving your community. Protect the people you love and get paid! 3 month training is required. Sign up sheets can be found at the Ministry of Magic and at your town hall. SIGN UP TODAY!"

"James, read this!"

He came over to the notice board and scanned over the message.

He looked up and our eyes met.

---------

We're the two oldest adults in training. It was kind of embarrassing at first, but James and I got used to it. We're like one big kung-fu family.

As hard work as it is, I think it's pretty fun; rolling and dodging, shooting spells at dummies, it's all hard work.

But hard work always pays off, right?

Of course!

There was a major attack (again) this time directed at the minister himself. He's finally realized the damage Voldemort has and can cause.

Training was reduced to 3 months instead of the usual 6. More people have been coming to try their hand at stopping Voldemort.

It's our last day of training. We are having a bit of a get together (MAJOR SMASH PARTY!) at Daniel's house. He retired from the National Quidditch League (NQL) along with James. Sirius is still playing beater, but he works for the Order. Daniel's becoming an auror just like James and I.

Like I said earlier, through thick and thin.

Mad-Eye Moody has just asked us to stand together for a picture.

"Smile," He growled. It's not like I couldn't smile. I mean, today's the day I make a difference.

FLASH

"I'll be sending a copy along to your new desk." No matter how hard he tried, Mad-Eye can't help but feel a special fondness for this group. We were, after all, his first group that he trained; we're his babies in a sense.

"Are you gonna get all teary-eyed on us now, Moody?"

Mad-Eye gave the speaker a hairy eyeball.

Look out Voldemort; you've got one helluva team coming after you. I'd be watching your back if I was you.