The Beetle at Bay
Arthur's question was answered the very next morning.
When Chrys' Daily Prophet arrived, she smoothed it out, gazed for a moment at the front page before she made a yelp that made everyone in the vicinity stare at her.
"What's wrong?" Arthur, Mike and David asked together.
She answered by spreading the newspaper on the table in front of them and pointed at ten black and white photographs that filled the whole front page, nine of them showing wizards' faces with the tenth being a witch's. Some of the people in the photos were silently jeering; others tapped their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each of the pictures were captioned with names and the crimes of each person that was sent to Azkaban.
Antonin Dolohov, read the legend beneath a wizard that had a long, pale, twisted face that sneered up at Arthur, convicted of the brutal murders of Brian and Kian Prewett.
Augustus Rookwood, said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair and leaned against the edge of his picture, as though he was bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named.
Yet Arthur's eyes were drawn to the witch. Her face leapt out at him upon seeing the page. She had long dark hair that looked very unkempt and straggly in the picture, though he had previously seen it sleek, thick and shining. She glared at him through her heavily lidded eyes with an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her mouth.
Like Sirius, she had retained vestiges of her good looks, but it seemed Azkaban took most of her beauty away.
Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Mike then nudged Arthur, pointing at the headline over the pictures, which he hadn't read yet.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN
MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING
POINT' FOR OLD DEATH EATERS
Arthur's eyes widened in horror, realising that this was what Voldemort was happy about. He then read the article.
The MInistry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.
Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high security prisoners escaped in the early of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.
"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped." said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."
No wonder Voldemort was happy." Mike said, horrified.
"And to think that Fudge is blaming Sirius for this, stupid twat." Arthur snarled.
"Well, it's not that surprising." Chrys said bitterly. "He has been calling you and Dumbledore liars for six months, he's not just gonna suddenly say that he's an idiot and speak the actual truth, is he?"
Chrys then ripped open the newspaper and started reading the report inside as Arthur looked around the Great Hall. He just couldn't understand how or why his fellow students weren't scared or even discussing the news on the front page, but it seemed that very few of them took the newspaper everyday like Chrys did. All they discussed was homework and Quidditch and other rubbish, meanwhile, ten of the most loyal and dangerous Death Eaters have broken out and rejoined Voldemort's ranks.
Up at the staff table, it was a different story.
Dumbledore and McGonagall were in deep conversation, both looking extremely grave. Sprout had the Prophet propped up against a bottle of ketchup and read the front page with so much concentration that she didn't notice the gentle drip of egg yolk falling into her lap from her stationary spook. Meanwhile, at the far end of the table, Umbridge tucked into a bowl of porridge. For once, her pouchy toad's eyes didn't sweep the Great Hall for any misbehaving students. She instead scowled as she gulped down her food, every now and then shooting a malevolent glance up the table to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking so intently.
"Oh, no…." Chrys gasped in horror, staring at the newspaper.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, now jumpy.
"Just read it." She said, looking shaken as she folded back page ten of the newspaper and handed it to Arthur, to let him, Mike and David read.
TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER
St Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a pot plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.
Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr Bode's ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement:
"St Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr Bode, whose health was improving prior to this tragic accident. We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, when touched by the convalescent Mr Bode, throttled him instantly. St Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."
"He's dead?" David asked in shock.
"Then… the Death Eaters sent the Devil's Snare." Arthur said. "Think about it, they put him under the Imperius Curse and he was messed up. So when he was getting better, they were worried he'd tell people what happened, so they disguised the Devil's Snare and waited for it to kill him."
"It makes sense, what better way to keep him quiet than to actually kill him with what looked like an accident." Chrys said, seeing the logic behind it.
She then pulled the newspaper back towards her, closed it and then leapt to her feet.
"Where are you going?" Mike asked.
"To send a letter." She replied, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. "I don't know if… but it's worth trying… and I'm the only one who can."
"I hate it when she speaks vaguely." David groaned as he, Arthur and Mike got up from the table and made their way out of the Great Hall. "Why can't she just say what she's up to? She'd just take up just as much time - hey, Hagrid!"
Hagrid stood beside the doors into the Entrance Hall, waiting for a crowd of Ravenclaws to pass. He still looked heavily bruised as he was on the day he came back from his mission to the giants and there was now a new cut across the bridge of his nose.
"Alrigh', you three?" he said, trying to muster a smile but he only made a pained grimace.
"Are you alright, Hagrid?" Arthur asked, following him as he lumbered after the Ravenclaws.
"Fine, fine." Hagrid said with a feeble assumption of airiness, he then waved a hand and narrowly missed concussing a frightened looking Professor Vector, who passed by. "Jus' busy, yeh know, usual stuff - lessons ter prepare - couple o' salamanders got scale rot - an' I'm on probation." He then mumbled.
"Probation?" David hissed quietly.
"Yeah." Hagrid said. "'S'no more'n I expected, ter tell yeh the truth. Yeh migh' not've picked up on it, bu' that inspection didn' go too well, yeh know… anyway." He sighed deeply. "Bes' go an' rub a bit more chilli powder on them salamanders or their tails'll be hangin' off 'em next. See yeh…."
He trudged away, out of the front doors and down the stone steps into the damp grounds. Arthur watched him go, more angry at Umbridge and worried about what more bad news could come.
The fact of Hagrid being on probation was now common knowledge over the next few days and much to Arthur's anger, very few people were upset about it; in fact some, Draco being the most prominent, seemed downright gleeful about this fact.
As for the death of an Unspeakable at St Mungo's, Arthur, Mike, David and Chrys were the only ones to know and or cared. The only topic of conversation in the corridors was the ten escaped Death Eaters, whose story had filtered throughout the whole school from the few that read the Daily Prophet. Rumours were spreading that some of the convicts were spotted in Hogsmeade, that they were apparently hiding out in the Shrieking Shack and that they're planning to break into Hogwarts, just as Sirius Black had done.
Those who were from wizarding families grew up hearing the names of the ten Death Eaters spoken with nearly as much fear as Voldemort's; their crimes that they committed during Voldemort's reign of terror were legendary. Relatives of their victims were among the Hogwarts students, who all found themselves the unwilling subjects of a gruesome reflected fame as they walked along the corridors.
Susan Bones, whose uncle, aunt and cousins had all died at the hands of one of the ten miserably said during Herbology that she now had an idea what Arthur had to go through throughout the years.
"And I don't know how you can stand it, it's horrible." She said bluntly, dumping far too much dragon dung on her tray of Screechsnap seedlings, causing them wriggle and squeak in discomfort.
Of course, Arthur was the subject of much renewed muttering and pointing in the corridors these days, yet this time, there was a difference in tone of the whisperers' voices. They now sounded curious instead of hostile. He even overheard snippets of conversation that suggested that the speakers weren't satisfied with the Prophet's version of how the ten Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban. In this confusion and fear, the doubters seemed to turn to the only other explanation available to them: that Arthur and Dumbledore were telling the truth ever since the previous year.
And it wasn't only the students' mood that changed. It was now common to see two or three teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors, breaking off their conversations the moment students approached.
"They can't talk freely in the staff room any more." Chrys said in a low voice as she, Arthur, David and Mike passed McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout huddled together outside of the Charms classroom one day. "Not with Umbridge there."
"Do you think they know anything new?" David asked as he gazed back over his shoulder at the three teachers.
"We're not gonna hear about it." Arthur said angrily. "Especially after that stupid Decree."
New notices had appeared on the house noticeboards the morning after the news of the Azkaban breakout:
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty Six.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor
This latest Decree was the subject of many jokes among the students. Lee Jordan even pointed out to Umbridge that by the terms of the new rule, she wasn't allowed to tell the twins off for playing Exploding Snap in the back of the class.
"Exploding Snap's got nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor! That's not information relating to your subject!"
When Arthur next saw Lee, he was horrified to see that the back of his hand was bleeding from scars that formed words. Chrys was with him and recommended essence of Murtlap.
Arthur thought that the breakout would've humbled Umbridge a bit, that she would've been abashed that this catastrophe had occurred right under the nose of her beloved Fudge. However, it only intensified her deep desire to bring every aspect of Hogwarts life under her personal control. She was so determined to achieve a sacking before long, and the only question was whether it would be Trelawney or Hagrid that would go first.
Every single lesson in Divination and Care of Magical Creatures was now conducted with Umbridge's presence along with her clipboard.
She would lurk by the fire in the heavily perfumed tower room, interrupting Trelawney's increasingly hysterical talks with difficult questions about ornithomancy and heptomology, insisting that she predicted students' answers before they gave them and demanded that she demonstrated her skill at the crystal ball, the tea leaves and the rune stones in turn.
Arthur actually thought that Trelawney would eventually crack from all the strain she's been going through. Several times he passed her in the corridors, which by itself is an odd occurrence since she normally remained in her tower room, muttering wildly to herself, wringing her hands and shooting terrified glances over her shoulder while giving off a powerful smell of cooking sherry, making Arthur think that she's been drinking alcohol.
If he wasn't so worried for Hagrid, Arthur would have felt sorry for her, but if one of them was to be ousted from their job, there was only one choice for Arthur about who he'd want to remain.
Unfortunately, Arthur saw that Hagrid was putting on as bad of a show as Trelawney, if not worse. Despite following Chrys' advice and showing them nothing more frightening than a Crup - a creature that was indistinguishable from a Jack Russell terrier except for its forked tail - since before Christmas, he as well lost his nerve.
He was now oddly distracted and jumpy during lessons, losing the thread of what he was saying to the class, answering questions wrongly, and this happened as he'd glanced anxiously at Umbridge. He was also more distant with the trio than ever before, having expressly forbidden them from visiting him after dark.
"If she catches yeh, it'll be all of our necks on the line." He told them flatly, and not wanting to jeopardise his job any further, they stopped themselves from giving in to walk down to his hut in the evenings.
It was clear to Arthur that Umbridge was depriving him of most of the things that made his life at Hogwarts worth living: visits to Hagrid's house and the letters from Sirius mainly. He's just glad that Arthur still had his Firebolt and could still play Quidditch.
The only way he could get revenge for this was by redoubling his efforts for the DA.
Arthur was very pleased that all of them - even Zacharias Smith - had been spurred on to work harder than ever by the news of the ten Death Eaters breaking out of Azkaban, yet the most pronounced improvement came from Neville of all people. The news of his parents' attackers escaping had brought a very strange and downright alarming change in him. He hasn't mentioned his meeting with Arthur and the others on the closed ward at St Mungo's, and they themselves kept quiet about it as well.
He didn't even say anything about Bellatrix and her fellow torturers' escape. In fact, he barely spoke during the DA meetings these days, only working relentlessly on every new jinx and counter curse that Arthur taught everyone.
His plump face would screw up in determination, being very indifferent towards injuries or accidents and just worked harder than anyone else in the room. He actually improved so much and so fast that it unnerved Arthur and when he taught everyone the Shield Charm - a way to deflect minor jinxes and make them rebound on the attacker - the only ones to master the charm faster Neville were Mike and Chrys.
Arthur gave as much progress at Occlumency as Neville did during the DA meetings. Despite fearing that Snape was just trying to make his mind open for Voldemort, he had to try and not give him the satisfaction.
However, all that Arthur would get as a result is his scar hardly ever stopped prickling and would often feel lurches of annoyance or cheerfulness that he knew wasn't from him and unrelated to what's happening to him at the time.
He also now dreamed of the door to the Department of Mysteries more often these days.
"It's like an illness." Chrys said when Arthur confided in her, David and Mike, the latter trying to soothe Arthur. "As though it's a fever. It has to get worse before it gets better."
"The lessons are making it worse." Arthur snarled. "The scar now hurts more often than it normally does and it's now common to dream about that door to the Department of Mysteries. I just wished it stopped."
"Clearly Dumbledore made a mistake in having Snape teach you Occlumency. Doesn't he realise just how much he despises you?" David spat in contempt.
"Yeah, and considering how Snape was a Death Eater, I really wouldn't be surprised if Snape is doing these lessons to really just make Arthur more vulnerable to Voldemort." Mike growled protectively, curling up to his boyfriend.
There truly was so much that Arthur had to handle - from the startling amount of homework that kept the fifth years working past midnight, the secret DA meetings, Quidditch practise and the Occlumency classes with Snape - that January passed by alarmingly fast and before Arthur knew it, February had arrived.
The weather was now wetter and warmer and the prospect of a second visit to Hogsmeade was approaching as well.
Thankfully, Arthur spent as much time as he could with his boyfriend and was excited to go out with him on Valentine's day, even though they'll do it in a way to hide that they're a couple, still not being ready to reveal their relationship.
On the morning of the fourteenth, after the previous day's training for Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff, he decided to dress casually and told Mike to go off on his own and meet him at Hogsmeade, so that no one could see and realise they're together.
So afterwards, he went to have breakfast at the same time as the post owls arrived. Athena wasn't there, which was expected, and Chrys was tugging a letter from the beak of an unfamiliar brown owl as they sat down.
"About time! If this didn't come today…." She said, tearing the envelope open and pulling out a small piece of parchment. Her eyes sped from left to right as she read the message and a grimly pleased expression formed on her face.
"Arthur…" She said, looking at him. "...this is important, could you and Mike meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"
"Uh… sure." Arthur said with uncertainty. "Why?"
"I haven't got time to tell you, I have to answer quickly." She said before she hurried out of the Great Hall with the letter clutched in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.
"Can't she ever just say what she's doing?" Arthur asked David, who was flabbergasted.
After breakfast, Arthur and Mike went off to the Entrance Hall separately and they proceeded out of the oak front doors.
At some point as they walked to the gates to Hogsmeade, the two joined together.
"So… any ideas on what to do?" Arthur asked Mike, feeling nervous about going on what would technically be their first date together.
"Let's spend time in Honeydukes, then at Dervish and Banges." Mike suggested with a fond smile.
"Okay, by the way, Chrys wants us at the Three Broomsticks by midday." Arthur said.
"Did she say why?" Mike asked as they reached Hogsmeade.
"No, you know how vague she can be." Arthur shrugged when they approached Honeydukes.
They spent a significant amount of time, having various different sweets, some that Arthur tried for the first time and he enjoyed them. The two even had romantic gestures like handing sweets to each other to eat from their fingers and cuddling against each other without being noticed.
Eventually, they went to Dervish and Banges where Mike bought himself a Pocket Sneakoscope for himself, saying that it's for when he's not at Hogwarts.
Eventually the two went to Gladrags Wizardwear, where Arthur bought Mike a purple cardigan, which Mike thanked him for with a kiss to the cheek when no one would notice.
For the rest of their time, they sat on a bench and snacked on Fudge Flies, chatting about Quidditch, Transfiguration and the DA meetings.
Eventually, they talked about Madam Puddifoot's.
"Honestly, that place is just too restricting for couples." Mike groaned as he threw a Fudge Fly into his mouth.
"Yeah, you'd think it would be accessible and more open for same sex couples, especially for people like us." Arthur nodded in agreement before he decided to bring up something.
"You noticed that poster for those ten Death Eaters when we got here?" He then said, referring to the wanted poster with the mention of a one thousand Galleon reward for any help of their recapture.
"Yeah… and it's interesting that there aren't any Dementors patrolling Hogsmeade, considering how dangerous these Death Eaters are." Mike said.
"It's probably because the Dementors are no longer in alliance with the Ministry." Arthur whispered. "Voldemort did say that they're natural allies to him to provide more people for them as a source of food, pretty much."
Eventually, they moved on from the dark subject matters and continued having fun on their date until midday came around.
The two made their way into the Three Broomsticks, seeing that it was as busy as it normally is.
"Hey, Arthur, over here!"
He saw Chrys waving at him from the other side of the pub from where he and Mike stood.
They made their way through the crowded pub and saw that she wasn't alone. She sat at a table with what had to be the most unlikely pair of drinking mates they could imagine: Luna Lovegood and even Rita Skeeter, the ex-journalist on the Daily Prophet and one of Arthur's least favourite people in the world.
"What the hell is that sack of troll dung doing here?" Arthur hissed, pointing at Skeeter.
"I'll have you know that little Miss Perfect has given me permission to talk to you." Skeeter replied to hum.
"Yes, I have." Chrys said coolly.
Unemployment clearly didn't suit Skeeter. Her hair that was once set in elaborate curls was now hung lank and unkempt around her face. The scarlet paint on her two inch talons were now chipped and there were a couple of fake jewels missing from her winged glasses. She took a great gulp of her drink and said out of the corner of her mouth "Pretty girl, isn't she, Arthur?"
"If you say one more word about Arthur's love life, the deal's off and I'll reveal your dirty little secret, understand?" Chrys snarled as Mike looked like he wanted to cast a jinx on her.
"What deal?" Skeeter said, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "You haven't mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days…." She took a deep shuddering breath.
"Yeah, well one of these days you'll just write more lies about me and Arthur." Chrys said indifferently. "Why don't you just go and find someone else who's gullible."
"They've run plenty of horrible stories about Arthur this year without my help." Skeeter shot a sideways glance at him over the top of her glass, adding a rough whisper"How has that made you feel, Arthur? Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood?"
"He's rightly angry." Chrys said in a hard and clear voice. "Because he told the Minister for Magic nothing but the truth and the Minister is being too much of an idiot to believe him."
"So you actually stick to it, do you, that He Who Must Not Be Named is back?" Skeeter said, lowering her glass and subjecting Arthur to a piercing stare as her finger strayed longingly to the clasp of her crocodile bag, clearly wanting to use her acid green quill. "You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You Know Who returning and you being the sole witness?"
"I wasn't the sole witness." Arthur snarled at her. "There were a dozen or so Death Eaters there. Do you want their names?"
"I'd love them." Skeeter breathed, fumbling in her bag once more, gazing at him like he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "A great bold headline: 'Potter Accuses…' A subheading, 'Arthur Pendergast Names Death Eaters Still Among Us'. And then, beneath a nice big photograph of you, 'Disturbed teenage survivor of You Know Who's attack, Arthur Pendergast, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the wizarding community of being Death Eaters….'"
The Quick Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when her rapturous expression died.
"But of course." She said, lowering the quill and looking daggers at Chrys. "Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?"
"Actually, I do want that." Chrys replied sweetly.
Skeeter stared at her, just as Arthur and Mike. Luna, meanwhile, stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick.
"You want me to report what he says about He Who Must Not Be Named?" Skeeter said in a hushed voice.
"I do." Chrys said. "The actual true story. All the facts, exactly as Arthur reports them. He'll give you every single detail, the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there, he'll even tell you exactly how Voldemort looks like now - oh, get a grip on yourself, woman." She added contemptuously, throwing a napkin across the table as Skeeter jumped so badly that she slopped half her glass of Firewhiskey down herself at the mention of Voldemort's name.
Skeeter blotted the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Chrys before saying baldly "The Prophet wouldn't print it. In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes his cock and bull story. Everyone thinks he's delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle -"
"We are not having a story of Arthur losing his marbles, you bitch." Chris spat angrily. "We've already had enough of those, thank you. He is getting the opportunity to tell the entire truth!"
"There's no market for a story like that." Skeeter said coldly.
"You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them. Speak the truth for once." Chrys said irritably.
Skeeter gave her a long hard look. She then learned forwards across the table towards her, speaking in a business-like voice "Alright, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They won't print a story that shows Arthur in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It's against the public mood. This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just don't want to believe You Know Who's back."
"So the Daily Prophet exists to only tell people what they want to hear?" Chrys said scathingly, which Arthur felt as well. He'd rather be told the truth.
Skeeter sat straight up, her eyebrows raised and drained her glass of Firewhiskey.
"The Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl." She said coldly.
"My dad thinks it's an awful paper." Luna said, unexpectedly entering the conversation. She sucked on her cocktail onion, gazing at Skeeter with her enormous, protuberant, slightly mad eyes. "He publishes important stories he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money"
Skeeter looked at her disparagingly.
"I'm guessing your father runs some stupid little village newsletter? Probably, Twenty Five Ways to Mingle With Muggles and the dates of the next Bring and Fly Sale?"
"No." Luna said, dipping her onion back into her Gillywater. "He's the editor of The Quibbler."
Skeeter snorted so loudly that people at a nearby table looked round in alarm.
"'Important stories he thinks the public needs to know', eh?" She said witheringly. "I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag."
"This will be your chance to raise the tone of it a bit." Chrys said pleasantly. "Luna said her dad's quite happy to take Arthur's interview, as long as the interview is written as anonymous. He'll be publishing it."
Skeeter stared at them both before making a great whoop of laughter.
"The Quibbler? You think people will take him seriously if he's published in The Quibbler?"
"Some won't, that's obvious." Chrys said in a level voice. "But the Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had gaping holes in it. A lot of people will be wondering whether there's a better explanation of what happened, and if there's an alternative story available, even if it's published in what some consider an unusual magazine. They'd be keen to read it."
Skeeter didn't say anything for a while, but she eyed Chrys shrewdly, her head a little to one side.
"Alright, let's say for a moment I'll do it." She said abruptly. "What kind of fee am I going to get?"
"I don't think daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine." Luna said dreamily. "They do it because it's an honour and, of course, to set their names in print.
Skeeter looked as though the taste of Stinksap was strong in her mouth as she rounded on Chrys.
"I'm supposed to do this for free?"
"Yep." Chrys said calmly before she took a sip of her drink. "Of course, the alternative is me telling the authorities about you being an unregistered Animagus. The Prophet could give you a lot for an insider's account of life in Azkaban."
Skeeter looked like she wanted nothing more than to shove the umbrella from Chrys' drink and shove it up her nose.
"I don't suppose I've got any choice, do I?" Skeeter then said, her voice shaking slightly. She then opened her crocodile bag and withdrew a piece of parchment, raising her Quick Quotes Quill.
"Daddy will be pleased." Luna said brightly. A muscle twitched in Skeeter's jaw.
"Arthur?" Chrys said, turning to him. "Are you ready to tell the public the truth?"
He looked at Mike, who nodded, saying that he should do it.
"Alright, just as long as this interview is done in a way that it seems like it's written by someone who has a vendetta against Fudge and the Ministry." Arthur said as he watched Skeeter balance her Quick Quotes Quill at the ready on the parchment between them.
"Fire away, Skeeter." Chrys said serenely, fishing a cherry from the bottom of her glass.
I apologise if Arthur and Mike's first date wasn't in much detail, but I'll put more effort in when I get around to Half-Blood Prince.