The sidewalk bustled with energy as Dominique hurried down the street. London woke up even earlier than her, which seemed somewhat impossible seeing as how she was getting up earlier and earlier every day.
She and Lysander had been toiling over their first story on the Bomsnox investigation for over a week, and she couldn't believe how much work it had taken. She enjoyed writing as much as the next witch, but the analysis of commas to which Lysander subjected his work was beyond rigorous.
Skirting around a crowded coffee stand and dodging a scurrying wizard, Dom dropped a Knut into a small box by the nearest building and picked up the Daily Prophet.
"MINISTRY MAN MYSTERIOUSLY MISSING" it read out in huge, capital letters. A picture of Bomsnox presiding over the Wizengamot shimmered just below the headline, and the words she and Lysander had crafted began underneath that.
Lysander Scamander, the column read just above its text. It was only right that he had gotten the credit for the story, because he had found out about Pennysworth and gotten them into his office. But a small part of her longed to see her name up there beside his. The truth was, she had found the letter that gave them the strongest part of their piece.
Shaking aside her discontent, she walked the last two blocks to the Prophet office and hurried to her desk.
"You writing your advice column today, doll?" Bertha's grumpy voice inquired.
Dom glared at the huge stack of letters waiting for her. "We'll see."
Bertha nodded slowly. "Right…so you think you're Celestina Warbeck now just because you're helping out with some big investigation, huh?"
"I think I'm who?" Dom asked.
The older witch rolled her eyes. "You kids. All the same." She shuffled away.
Dom's phone rang sharply. "Daily Prophet, this is Dominique."
"And how is the Daily Prophet's premiere reporter this morning?" Louis asked.
She couldn't squelch a smile. "Hey, Lou. My name's not even on the piece!"
"Maybe not," her little brother admitted. "But you know, and I know, and Mum and Dad know, and pretty much our entire extended family knows at this point. You're in the big leagues, kid!"
Dom chuckled. "Thanks. It does feel pretty good."
"I'm sure you'll be getting tons of calls from aunts and cousins and the like today. This is a huge story, Dom! You realize you're taking on what could be Ministry corruption, right?"
"Of course I do. It's a big story. I'm just not sure how big of a part I'm even playing here," she whispered, propping the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could rip open the top letter on the massive pile beside her.
"Just keep working hard. You can do it. See you for dinner soon?"
Dom furrowed her brow. "Maybe. I'll see you at Christmas at the latest. I have to put in more time than usual on this story."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Alright well, we miss you."
"You too. Bye, Lou." Dom hung up the phone and tried to focus her attention on the letter in her hands, but it was impossible to even make her eyes read the words. She had broken a huge story! Maybe not in her name, but Louis was right; she had done the work.
"Scamander! Weasley!" a voice roared from halfway up the newsroom. "Get your asses in here!"
It was Cuffe's angry yell, and he sounded as far from pleased as Dom had ever heard him. Forgetting her jubilation, she scurried up the aisle towards his office, bumping into Lysander as she ran.
He didn't even stop to say a word to her, just pulled his tie straight and skidded into their boss's office ahead of her. Lysander was able only to give her a brief glance before Cuffe slammed the door behind them.
"Can one of you explain this to me please?" he snapped, throwing a piece of paper at Lysander.
It began its slow descent to the floor before Lysander snatched it up and scanned the page. Dom stepped closer to him, the fibers of his starched button-down shirt scratching her arm as she read.
"Let me make your lives easier." Cuffe's beady eyes blazed, tone deadly. "It's a statement from the Ministry of Magic condemning your story."
Hadn't Cuffe read over their draft for print last night, Dom wondered. She knew better than to ask him out loud. If their story was right, it shouldn't matter what anyone said about it, even the Ministry.
But Lysander didn't seem as sure of himself as she felt. He stared down at the paper and didn't say a word.
"But wait!" Cuffe exclaimed, fake cheer oozing from his voice. "There's more!" He brandished a second paper in front of them before reading off of it in a singsong voice. "I am as well as ever and have been busy working to keep wizarding Britain's foreign affairs in order. I am dedicated to the wellbeing of the British Ministry of Magic." Beads of sweat were beginning to form on their editor's brow.
Dom glanced at Lysander, but his gaze was fixed on Cuffe.
"That was a statement from our dear friend." Cuffe bit out the last two words. "Caspar. Bomsnox."
Her heart stilled. Bomsnox was gone, missing, not at work! How was he issuing statements from the Ministry?
Cuffe began pacing rapidly in front of them. "Now tell me something. How is this possible? How is this man issuing statements when you two claim he's been replaced and is missing from the Ministry?"
Lysander seemed to have regained his voice. "We printed nothing but what we had evidence to prove."
Their editor stopped his ferocious strides directly in front of Lysander, and though he was a good six inches shorter than his star reporter, the younger man looked as afraid as Dom had ever seen him.
"Isn't that just peachy keen!" Cuffe exclaimed. "You printed the evidence." He took another step and halted before Dom, glaring down at her. "And where did this evidence come from?"
Dom tried to look at Lysander for a tip, but realized she needed to speak up on her own. "Most of it came from a letter I found when working for Edward Pennysworth undercover."
Cuffe's infuriated gaze seared into her. "The Ministry isn't acknowledging any such letter. Why should I trust the evidence you found?"
Dom was silent.
"I should've known better than to let anyone cover this story, let alone someone as green as you, Weasley." He whirled away from them and stalked to his desk. "We're an unbiased newspaper. We don't have any business scrutinizing a 'disappearing man' who hasn't disappeared at all."
Lysander shook his head. "I believe the evidence we've found so far isn't dubious at all."
Dom admired his courage to stand up to their boss, whose face was now as red as a forgotten Remembrall.
"I don't care if it's as plain as the scar on Harry Potter's forehead!" Cuffe yelled, slamming his fist into his desk. "We're taking heat from the bloody Ministry of Magic!"
Lysander merely stood straighter. "Backing off the story will only make us look worse. Give us one more chance to look into this. If we find more evidence, we can prove we're right, and the Ministry will have no choice but to admit it."
Cuffe seemed only slightly pacified. "That's assuming there's more evidence to find."
"I've been doing solid undercover reporting for you for two years. That's got to earn me a little trust and a little more time." Lysander's hazel eyes were calm as he watched their boss carefully.
For once, his confidence seemed genuine and was without a trace of arrogance. It was as if he was truly sure of his ability and not just trying to make himself look smart and self-assured.
"Fine. You have two more weeks to write a follow-up piece. But it had better be damn good." Cuffe turned his back to them.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Dom spun around and began to follow Lysander from the room.
"But she's off the story," Cuffe snapped.
It felt as if the air had been knocked from her lungs. Squeezing her eyes shut, she steeled herself for a fight. Dominique turned back around to face the editor-in-chief, trying to gather as many arguments as she could. But she never got a chance to speak.
"Absolutely not." Lysander took a step toward the desk.
"What do you care?" Cuffe eyed Lysander and pursed his lips. "You didn't want her on the story to start with."
Dom was itching to speak up, but she knew Lysander would be angry if she jumped in the middle of this argument after he had stuck his neck out to defend her. Besides, a small part of her relished the fact that he still wanted her working with him.
"She's been invaluable. Dominique found the most solid evidence we had for this piece. Whether or not the Ministry is happy about it, she did amazing investigative work. And that's not even considering how bloody organized she is." He ran a finger beneath his stiff, white collar as if it was choking him. "I need her on this story."
It looked as if Cuffe was going to resist, but after a moment he waved a hand. "Do whatever you want. But now your ass is on the line, not hers."
"My ass is already on the line," Lysander pointed out.
Cuffe raised a bushy eyebrow. "You might make light of this, but she's not the one with everything to lose."
Lysander didn't reply, just watched his boss quietly.
"Well don't just stand there! If you two don't turn up some bloody brilliant facts and fast, she won't be the only one out on her ass," Cuffe barked.
Lysander gave a curt nod and, herding Dom along with a hand on her back, propelled her from the room ahead of him.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Dom got a strong urge to thank him, and maybe even hug him. But she had the unfortunate feeling that he would brush her gratitude aside as if it were a pesky fly. Instead, she let him guide her into his office and watched silently as he closed the door behind them.
Looking much more relaxed than she felt, he settled into his desk chair and glanced up at her. "So where do we begin?"
"That was insane!" Dom exclaimed. "I can't even believe how angry he was."
Lysander shrugged. "He gets like that a lot. I've learned how to deal with him."
"That was fairly evident. I thought he was going to eat me alive."
He smirked. "He might've if I'd let him."
"Well thank you for sparing me that ignominious fate." She blew a few stray pieces of her bangs from her eyes.
Lysander dipped his head in a deferential nod. "If I hadn't, who would help me with all of this?" He waved his hand at the stacks of boxes littering his small, cluttered office.
"A fair point."
"Why don't you start in that corner over there, and we'll discuss our next move. We've got a lot of work ahead of us," he intoned gravely, still allowing a small smile on his face.
As Dominique tentatively began sifting through ripped and scribbled upon papers, she realized she was just the smallest bit excited to begin again.
