Word Count: 831


"Tell me, Gilderoy," Rita says with a smile. "What's your secret?"

He grins at that, waving his wand and summoning a fresh jug of cider. "You know what they say, don't you?" he chuckles, pouring her another glass. "Curiosity killed the cat, my love."

"Yes," she agrees, shrugging. "But did you ever know that there's more to the saying?"

His eyes shine with amusement at that. "Is there?" He raises his brows and adjusts the sleeve of his periwinkle robes. "Clever as you are, I'm not surprised that you would know that. What's the rest of it?"

Rita smiles mischievously and leans in, catching his hand in hers. "Satisfaction brought it back," she says, and there's a hint of a purr in her voice.

Gilderoy is hiding something. Rita may not have been a Ravenclaw, but she still prides herself on being intelligent and observant. She's seen the subtle tells that Gilderoy has.

He can hide with his charm and smile all he likes. Rita will still get to the bottom of it.

She climbs out of bed, waving her wand and straightening the perfectly white sheets with a flick of her wand. Gilderoy slumbers on. It isn't surprising, really. She slipped him enough of sleeping potion to make an Erumpent have a nice little nap. She should be free for a little while.

It really is a shame to have to dig like this. She finds herself between a rock and a hard place. Gilderoy is charming and lovely, and Witch Weekly has called them a power couple. Rita really does like him, and it seems like an awful shame to ruin his career.

But she is still a journalist, and emotions have no place in this line of work. If one of the biggest names in the wizarding world is hiding something, the public has a right to know.

It takes two hours, but she finally finds what she's looking for. Stashed away in the hall closet, hidden in a box where no one would ever think to look, are notes on Gilderoy's books…

Except they tell a different story. Gilderoy is not the hero in these, but just a storyteller, collecting epic adventures to share with the world. Whoever the real people are, something must have happened to make them not come forward.

"Was it Draught of Living Death this time?"

The voice startles her. Rita drops the pages, and they scatter out. She turns, heart racing as she sees Gilderoy behind her. "This time?"

"You do this every time." He shakes his head. "It would probably be kinder to just sever ties with you and go on with my life, but here we are. Here we always are."

"I don't… I don't understand," she whispers.

But maybe she does. At least, partially. Something about this feels eerily familiar, but she can't quite put her finger on it. It almost feels like a dream, like something lost in a fog of confusion that she almost remembers but not quite.

"You're a liar," she says. "A liar and con artist…"

"I assure you, you've called me worse." He steps closer, lifting his wand. His eyes flicker briefly to the notes at her feet. "Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably. Well… Definitely. The world needs a hero, my love. Surely you understand that."

"Not like this. What sort of hero lies and manipulates people like this?" she demands, her eyes fixed on his wand.

Gilderoy laughs. "Oh, do you have a high horse to sit upon?" he counters, smirking. "Not exactly the poster child of morality, are you? Don't worry. This won't hurt."

"Are you going to kill me?" She hates how weak her voice sounds. She doesn't want to be afraid.

"Hardly. I'll see you tomorrow. Obliviate!"

Rita's head aches as she opens her eyes, squinting against the sunlight. "How much did I drink last night?" she groans, sitting up and rubbing her temples.

She makes a mental note to remind Gilderoy not to let her have more than one glass of wine next time. Having to drink a hangover potion for breakfast at her age is ridiculous.

Miserable, she makes her way to her desk, pausing and frowning as she notices a note. The elegant handwriting is her own, but she can't remember writing anything down.

DO NOT TRUST HIM. REMEMBER! URGENT!

She doesn't remember. Not really. But there are flickers.

A box.

Liar.

Obliviate.

And through it all, she can see Gilderoy's dazzling smile.

Rita isn't sure what it all means. She is a journalist, not a Seer, and this doesn't make sense at all. Still, it puts her on edge and fills her with a sense of dread.

There is a story here. She isn't sure what it is, only that Gilderoy is involved somehow.

Rita grabs her glasses and puts them on, carefully adjusting them. One way or another, she will get to the bottom of this.