"And that, Ms. Skeeter, is all the time we have for now," Staros said, rising from his chair.
"What? No! We have so much more to cover! What about the rest of the years in school? What about the Grandshire incident? We haven't even touched on the ICW Reunification Pact!"
Staros chuckled at the woman.
"Ms. Skeeter, you have already been here for nearly two days. Time in this room flows a little differently, but not so much so to cause health problems unless we spend too long in here. I, for one, would like a decent meal and some sleep. Seeing as I am the old man, I have ever right to kick the young whipper-snapper out on her butt and shuffle her off to her own bed. Write your story beginnings, young lady, and come back in two weeks. We'll continue then."
Pricilla realized that she couldn't push too hard or the whole deal would go flop in her lap. Not to mention what a Dark, evil overlord of Great Britain might do to her personally if she irritated him enough. He didn't look like he'd slowly skin her and then give her to a bunch of blind psychopaths, but there were far too many rumors for some of them to not be true.
Putting up the image of the grumbling reporter, she realized she did have enough to start her expose with so she packed up her recorder and papers, shoved the book into her bag to try and peer at later, and stood up herself. Brushing he clothes down, she wondered about the time difference he mentioned. If true, her editor might be getting worried about her. Her stomach also injected its opinion by growling at this point. Blushing, she allowed the old man to lead her out of the room.
"Carcerous!" Staros called. The elf popped up next to them. "Please take Ms. Skeeter to the gate. She'll be coming back in a couple weeks for the next interview."
The elf bowed and gestured for Pricilla to follow him. He led her back out the same hallways she had come in before, furiously thinking about how to write up her story. Questions she hadn't the chance to ask kept rattling around with headline ideas as she walked. Was Voldemort really possessing Quirrell? What about the story that Potter had killed him? How much did Dumbledore know right from the start? How far was the Queen involved?
Pricilla sighed to herself as she was led out the front door. These questions and so much more would have to wait. She had a story to write!
Author's Note: I normally hate author notes as they generally falsely inflate the word count, but I felt I needed one here. This ends book one. I had to re-purchase Chamber of Secrets as mine had gotten misplaced so the delay in additional writing is due to that and my own procrastination. Do not worry readers! I am finishing this storyline even if it kills me, tears out my heart, and feeds my soul to dementors and squirrels!