On Teenagers & Love
a story by anamatics
Part Two
Chapter Thirteen - On Newspapers
Hermione's blood runs cold when the Daily Prophet owl arrives one morning in early February. She fumbles in her bag for the needed knuts and pays the owl hurriedly and unrolls the paper, nearly spilling her pumpkin juice in the process. She cannot help herself when she lets out a surprised little yelp that has everyone at the table staring at her. The headline reads that there has been a mass breakout at Azkaban, and that it is feared that Sirius Black is behind the rallying cry for Voldemort's supporters.
"What is it?" both Harry and Ron ask as one.
Hermione spreads out the newspaper and points at the headline as Harry and Ron peer over her shoulders and read the article nearly as quickly as she has. This is bad, very, very bad. Hermione bites her lip as Harry and Ron read, wondering what everyone in the Order is up to right now. Fleur hasn't said anything at all in her letters about the work that she's doing with them, and Hermione can't help the uneasy feeling in her stomach that settles when her gaze slides up to the staff table at the front of the Great Hall. The same gaunt, staring faces that are glaring menacingly at the three of them are staring out from over almost every professor's breakfast. Only Umbridge seems completely unperturbed, reading a copy ofWitch Weekly and sipping tea.
Harry taps the headline, his voice rising far above where it should, "Black?" he sounds almost surprised, and Hermione really doesn't understand why. Of course the Ministry controlled press is going to push for Sirius' involvement. "No-"
"Shh," Hermione hisses at him. She prods at the face of Antonin Dolohov, who she's pretty sure is the one who murdered Mrs. Weasley's older brothers. She glances around and sees that there are heads gathered around newspapers across all four tables and that from the staff table, Professor Umbridge is looking slightly put-out. "Just read it."
Hermione thinks back to the previous evening, about how Harry had returned from his occlumency lesson angry and had disappeared off to bed. She'd sent Ron to check on him and hadn't been at all surprised to have Ron tell her later that Harry'd been dreaming of Voldemort. If Hermione hadn't known better, she would guess that Harry was purposefully sabotaging his occlumency lessons because he wanted to know what Voldemort was up to. Harry wouldn't do something so absolutely idiotic, she is sure of it.
"Tha's why he was so happy last night, Harry," Ron sounds a little stunned and Hermione nudges him with her shoulder. They'd talked about how it wasn't a good plan for Harry to keep trying to do what he was doing, but Hermione isn't really sure if it actually go through to Ron or not.
"Why is Fudge blaming Sirius?!" Harry growls angrily, making to pick up the paper. Hermione slaps at his hand, because it is her paper, thank you very much. He can pay for his own or read it when she's finished.
"Because he has to save face," Hermione explains, opening to follow the jump. The breakout sounds like it was a grisly sort of a thing – all the human guards who worked at Azkaban were killed. She bites her lip and turns to see Harry and Ron staring blankly at her. "Honestly, he's been telling everyone that Dumbledore and Harry both are off their rockers for the past six months since Cedric was murdered. He can't very well change his tune now."
There's another story that's caught her eye, and she turns the page over to read it. A ministry employee named Broderick Bode who was staying at St. Mungo's was found strangled to death by devils snare that had been disguised as a houseplant and left for him as a gift. "That… that'shorrible Hermione says quietly.
"What now," Harry's apparently been inspecting the staff table as well, but he turns his attention back to Hermione as she pushes her toast plate out of the way and lays the paper flat on the table. As he and Ron read the article, Hermione's mind is working a mile a minute, trying to figure out what she can do to make sure that know what is happening.
The Prophet cannot be trusted, that much is becoming more and more apparent. Hermione remembers this from the book that her father gave her for her birthday – when the Vichy Regime was set up in France during World War Two they used the state run media to spread propaganda. This was the same, just perpetuated in a far more modern sense. There had to be a way that someone could write an article that was guaranteed to be read…
What had Fleur said about the resistance? Hermione racks her brain, trying to think past the distracting image of Fleur's smiling face and the way that sun hit her eyes and made them look like sapphires. It seems like those lessons were a lifetime ago – so much as happened since then.
"We saw him," Hermione says as Harry and Ron stare at each other. "At St. Mungo's, when we were visiting your dad – he was across from Lockheart." The more Hermione thinks about that moment, the more it comes back to her. She cannot believe she'd never put the pieces together before. "We saw the devils snare arrive, or at least I did. The nurse brought it in."
"How could we not have recognized it?" Harry demands. "I mean, we've all seen it before, we know what it does. We could have stopped this from happening."
"It's not our fault," Ron shakes his head. "Who on earth could have expected that? The person who sent it to the bloke is a real prat, who doesn't know to check what they're buying?"
Hermione wants to roll her eyes, but it's hit her. She's got to check and see if she would be willing to do it, and then she has to find place to publish that would be widely read, but certainly not mainstream enough to attract the ministry (and professor Umbridge's) attention. "Oh come on," she says. She wants to belay the fact that it can't be their fault to Harry, who's looking ashen-faced and somewhat like he wants to throw up. "No one can possibly be that stupid, its first year herbology! No, this… this has to have been murder, and a really clever one at that." She scans the article one more time. "It says here that it was sent anonymously, how on earth are they ever going to figure out who did it?"
The Quibbler, Hermione thinks, and she folds up the newspaper as Ron and Harry realize what exactly it was that Mr. Bode did at the Ministry of Magic. She doesn't see Luna Lovegood over at the Ravenclaw table as she gets her things and stares one last time at the faces of the escaped Death Eaters.
"Where are you off to?" Ron asks.
"To send a letter," Hermione replies absently. She really hopes that it'll work, and that she'll be interested in doing it. She can't imagine why she wouldn't be – considering who she'd be interviewing. "It's a long shot, but it might be worth trying. Regardless, I'm the only one who can do it." She takes one more look at Ron's completely flabbergasted face and turns to leave, pretending that she doesn't hear him announce loudly to half the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables that he hates it when she does this.
She supposes it's even though, because she hates how he doesn't use his brain most of the time.
Hermione makes her way quickly up to the owlery, grateful that she has a muggle pen and blank paper to write with because she's honestly not sure that she can dash off this letter and get to Charms class on time all in the very limited amount of time that she has to do so. She thinks back, almost ruefully, to the time turner that she used in her third year.
The owlery smells a lot like the fourth-floor bedroom that Sirius had kept Buckbeak in at Grimmauld Place, and Hermione's nose wrinkles as she finds the least dropping filled corner to squat down and use the back of her Arithmancy text book as a hard surface as she writes her letter. She's not entirely sure what to say, so she lays herself bare, because this woman has already done far more to ruin her reputation than most people Hermione knows.
The only upcoming Hogsmeade visit is on Valentine's Day, Hermione writes, quickly. While I'm sure that you may have other plans, this simply cannot wait. She's bartering a release from the agreement they'd come to at the end of the previous year, Hermione knows that she'll take the bait. She signs her name, folds the letter carefully, and writes "Rita Skeeter" across the front of it. A school owl flutters down and she hands the letter over to the bird, stroking its cheek for a moment before shouldering her bag and heading towards the steps out of the owlery.
x
As the days towards Valentine's drag on and Hermione receives a very curt reply to her letter and finds the time to ask Luna Lovegood if her father would be interested in such an article, they all start to realize that no one cares all that much about the death of an obscure ministry employee. All that everyone seems to care about is the escapees from Azkaban. Hermione's written Fleur about it, but Fleur's reply had come back short and succinct. She should keep her head down and not go looking for trouble.
"Honestly," Hermione mutters, folding the letter and tucking it into the pocket of her robes.
"What?" Ginny asks, looking sleepily up from her potions essay. Hermione remembers that one being particularly challenging.
Sighing, Hermione flops back into the armchair she's sitting in. "I cannot believe that Fleur of all people just told me to stay out of trouble."
Behind her, probably making up answers to divination homework, Ron snickers. Hermione rounds on him, but his face is perfectly blank and he's scribbling something in the homework planner that Hermione gave him right before the start of term. Her eyes narrow as he nudges the page over to Harry, whose face cracks into a wide smile.
Excellent, Hermione thinks, they're passing notes. She decides that she doesn't want to know and turns back to Ginny. "All I asked was if the Order was working on apprehending them or leaving that to the ministry. She wouldn't even tell me that much."
Ginny shrugs, "Can't say I blame you for trying – what with Educational Decree Number whatever-we're-on-now."
"Twenty Six," Hermione replies automatically. The teachers were banned from so much as talking about the breakout, and had taken to whispering in the hallways about it since apparently the staff room was no longer safe. Hermione hated the fact that they'd gotten Hagrid into trouble by asking him about it, and then Professors McGonagall and Sprout had both clammed up when students in their classes had tried to get more details. To be entirely honest, Hermione had been rather surprised that Umbridge hadn't outright banned students from taking the paper daily. She reasons that it is only because the Prophet is in Fudge's pocket.
Hermione knows that if she asks Fleur about what's happening in person that Fleur will probably tell her – or at least she hopes that that's the case. She and Harry both have written Fleur thanking her profusely for her notes from her fifth year of defense, they've helped immensely with the DA.
