Here we go again. What is happening now is on a Tuesday, The goblet drawing will be on this coming Thursday, so this is two days before that event. Please enjoy.

Master Xander

Chapter Nineteen

Xander's Magic Shop and Curiosities

It was starting. Alex wasn't overly concerned at this point. He had customers to tend. Smiling cheerfully, Alex went to greet his latest patron when he stopped. The blond woman wearing a little too much makeup, and a dark green button down two-piece long-sleeved suit gingerly entered. She glanced around the store and spotted Alex. For a moment she looked terrified. Then she straightened up and boldly entered the threshold. Most other customers recognized her immediately. She smiled at Alex, which he thought looked totally fake.

She put on a brave front, but there was little doubt that she was terrified. "Mr. Harris," she said. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" Alex responded as his mood soured.

Rita Skeeter wasn't someone he expected to see coming to his store. And Skeeter was a reporter whose reputation preceded her. It caused him to wonder about her agenda.

The look he was giving the reporter alarmed her. "It's nothing official," she sputtered as her nervousness took hold. "Please don't spray me again!"

Alexander's smile was unnerving. "Ms. Skeeter, you've come into my establishment. I assume that you're here to browse or maybe buy something, not be sprayed. Am I right?"

"Yes, right you are." Rita Skeeter looked immensely relieved. "Thank you, Mr. Harris," and she really meant it. "I am not here to start an argument."

Rita paused for a moment as she thought about how to approach the conversation. She had spent hours, days really, trying to think of the right words that wouldn't aggravate Harris, but none of her usual approaches seemed appropriate. In the end, she simply blurted out the words, and in the process surprising herself. The woman had sworn to herself that she wouldn't lose control of her emotions in front of the man who poisoned her.

The woman wanted, no, she needed closure.

"I really wish you hadn't done that."

"Did what?" Alex asked, pretending ignorance while aggravating her in the process.

"Mister Harris, don't play the innocent with me. It was a terrible thing to do!" she said with far less heat than Alex had expected. "I believe you thought you had your reasons to do such a terrible thing, but you poisoned me using that horrid stuff," she practically screamed.

Surprised by her own outburst, she frantically looked around at the other patrons. They hadn't seemed to notice her uncouthness. "I did nothing to cause you to respond in such a vile manner."

"No, you're wrong." he told her as they moved to a more secluded area to sit down and talk. "You did, you violated the sanctity of my classroom, not to mention writing all of those wonderful articles about my associate, myself and my store. The innuendos involving myself and Ms. Delane didn't help improve my opinions of you. In fact, you went out of your way to denigrate and insult us. Ms. Skeeter, you didn't have a clue about us, and you didn't bother to find out. You invented stories created from your own imagination and printed those stories like a cheap gossip columnist. As a reporter, you weren't concerned about the damage you brought, or the people you hurt."

Rita glared at him with undisguised anger. She did not like being challenged and she was somewhat embarrassed at being called on it. Most people merely raged at her. But she knew that Alex would do a lot worse if he was provoked, and that frightened her. However, her fear didn't assuage her anger and being insulted. How Skeeter struggled as she tried to keep her voice low enough to keep the other patrons from overhearing their conversation. The woman thought about casting a silencing spell but dared not do so in Alex's store. The man might take offense and she certainly didn't want to do that. However, she had to respond.

"You are Americans who came here and established a store in what is traditionally a magical British community. It is up to news reporters such as me, to find out why you came here and for what reason." She gulped. "I hasten to add that you rejected all of my inquiries. I had no choice but to speculate."

"Mrs. Skeeter, you didn't even take the time to ask for an interview. You just stuck your quill in my face and started asking ignorant questions."

"My name is Rita, and it is not Missus," she corrected. "And those weren't ignorant questions and I did request an interview with you, which you rejected out of hand." She sighed, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. "Mr. Harris, I came here to apologize for my actions at the school. I'm a reporter and it's my job to present the news to the public. I admit that I sometimes do go too far, but you didn't have to do that to me."

"Do what?" Alex asked her.

She looked at him, appalled. "You mustn't play with me about this. You sprayed me," she whispered. The memories came flooding back and she looked terrified. "Somehow you knew that I was in my animagus form. How? I've kept this a close secret and very few people know. How did you know and why haven't you told the authorities?" With the last question, she couldn't keep the fear out of her voice.

"I think I've gotten my point across," Alex told her. "Only Ceraine and I know. I am not interested in revealing your secret identity. There wasn't a need for you to be imprisoned, although you are breaking British magical law by not registering."

Rita was quiet for a moment as she tried to gauge what he was telling her. she was suspicious by nature and her hackles were up. "Oh, I see. You're going to hold this over me." The woman looked disheartened and somewhat fearful. "What do I have to do to keep you from telling the authorities?"

The conversation was interrupted while the last of the customers paid for their purchases and left, leaving Rita and Alex alone at the store.

Alexander turned, directly facing a very frightened Rita who was trying her best to look indifferent. It was the look in her eyes that betrayed her feeling. "The answer is nothing, and I know what you're thinking," he told her. She was looking at him questioningly. "It's obvious to one who sees. Don't be afraid," he said, trying to reassure her. "I have no interest in doing that to you, so you can pull your mind away from the gutter."

Rita was shocked and a little surprised. She was absolutely sure that Alexander would take advantage of her womanly nature as the price for keeping a secret. Americans were like that. She was aware that many men would have gladly forced her into a compromising situation, not hesitating for a second. "You mean I don't have to do anything?"

"No, Ms. Skeeter, other than this. I want you to show a little more respect when you write articles about people. I want you to be a little more objective and less vindictive."

"My articles aren't vindictive!" she retorted.

He shook his head in disagreement. "Yes, they are. Don't forget, I've read your articles. You were especially brutal to the Harry Potter kid. Your articles about his godfather and the murder of his parents were just cruel. I saw a lot of that was just made-up garbage. Do you have any idea how much damage you've done to him? From what I've read, you didn't officially interview him, but you've made up so many things that will probably scar that boy for life."

"But he's news! And he's just a boy, he'll get over it."

"Let me ask you a question," Alex said. She bit her lip and nodded. "Are you going to get over being sprayed by me?"

"That's different," she hissed. "You poisoned me! That is something I will never fully get over."

"Mister Potter and all of those whom you've slandered have gone through the same thing."

Rita looked stricken, although she tried to cover it up with that fake smile of hers. "I don't understand what you mean?" she lied.

"You're doing the same thing to the people you slandered. It's the same thing as poisoning them. For example, Harry is a young impressionable boy. No matter what they said that he is supposed to have done, he's still a child, barely a teenager. You've torn him apart and your constant articles. You are taking away what little childhood he has. Lord know it's not just you. Lots of others that have participated in sensationalizing this child's life and we both know most of it was crap and lousy writing." There was a moment's pause as he tried to decide if he should continue his line of thought. He decided to push it. "There was a time in the early to mid-eighteen hundred, probably earlier, that most of the world believed that Britain treated their children lower than dirt. The orphanages, the child factories, the beatings, the utter contempt for the poor and their children. You're a reporter, and you know the history. I thought you would have improved after all of this time. I guess I was wrong."

"…"

Alex continued speaking before she could retort. "You went after Ceraine and me with little regard to our personal feelings or privacy," he told her. "Your articles haven't endeared yourself to me." Alex began glaring at her. "To make myself clear Ms. Skeeter, I wasn't interested in permanently debilitating or killing you." He looked off into the distance and smiled ruefully. "If I had wanted to, I could have transfigured you in a fly with just your head remaining human and let you buzz around like that for a couple of weeks. Or I could have made your beetle form permanent. And yes, I can do that," he told the now very pale woman. "So, when I when I sprayed you, I was being nice."

Rita look absolutely horrified.

Alex got up and grabbed a coke from his refrigeration, popped the top and took a long sip. "But really, I didn't like doing that because it exposes the darker side of my nature. You're a bit of a git, but I wouldn't do that to you just because you wrote articles I didn't like. By the way, do you want a Coke?"

For some reason, she felt irrationally pleased by his answer. "…I'm not familiar with that concoction. It must be muggle. But yes, thank you. Mister Harris, you are a very confusing man! And," she added, "for your information, I am not a git, not really!

He went and got her the soda and handed it to her. she gingerly took it, popped the top and tasted it. Her eyes widen. It was a little sweet, but she decided that she liked it.

"Now I think you're here to shop before the store closes for the night, which closed about ten minutes ago, but I will make an exception," he added. "Put away your journalist hat and enjoy yourself. The store's changed since you came in the last time about two years ago when we opened. And yes, I remember you coming here and checking everything out in your beetle form," he flatly told her. "Thought you were a bug and almost sprayed you then. But saw what you were and decided to let you go. You may not remember, but I do."

"Please!" she implored. "How did you know? How do you know?"

"Doesn't matter," he said and changed the subject. "We have added a lot of things."

The woman recognized the shift and decided not to contest. "Yes, I think I'd like that." She paused for a few seconds before turning to face him again. Her voice wavered a little as she continued. "I'd like us to start over again on a better footing this time. I don't want you to see me as your enemy." Looking nervous, she took a step back. Her eyes glazed over a bit. "I am listening to what you're saying to me whether you believe me or not."

Carefully watching the man for a reaction, she continued. "While I was at home recovering," she growled, "I had a lot to think about. Even though you were mean to me, you could have done a lot worse and I know that." Her voice wavered.

"I could have but chose not to."

For a few minutes, Rita looked around the store, really looked. A couple of items really caught her attention.

"In my profession, I have a lot of contacts and many of those people that I know I considered associates. But I don't have too many friends. In fact, I can count them on two fingers," she laughed bitterly. "I was alone in my apartment and nobody came to check to see how was doing except my editor, of course. And the only reason he came to my flat was because he was worried about his article about Hogwarts was behind schedule. I was sick and no one came to see if I was even alive. They just dismissed me."

"Sorry to hear that but its partially your fault," said Alex, but not unkindly. "You can't just use people and expect them care about you in times of need. Your associates are the same way. They care about what you can do for them, not you personally."

She was uncharacteristically quiet for a while. Her face displayed a multitude of emotions ranging from anger, to fear, to sadness, and loneness. "I learned that the hard way," and here she smirked a bit. "I find that I don't like it, not one bit." Now she looked at him, studying the man in front of him. "I also know that you checked on me at least twice while I was ill."

He didn't bother denying it. "I just wanted to make sure you hadn't dropped dead," he said drily.

"You did more than anyone else," she noted sadly. "Even if you were the one who poisoned me and left me to suffer in my apartment for almost a week."

"That was only because of enlightened self-interest."

Rita shook her head. Amused by his comment. "Don't try to fool me. I have a journalist's eye for news. You were worried about me. But to get back to my original point. I would like for us to start over as friends." She took a breath. "Would you like have a spot of dinner with me?" she asked, blushing. "We all know the reputations of Americans." Her cheeks flushed more and was visible even through her makeup. "I don't want you to ravish me or anything. I would like, however, you to go out with me. I know you are a bit younger but…I have hopes we can be friends."

"What!? Wait!" 'She was asking me out on a date? And after I sprayed her with Raid? What is it about me and bug women?'

Alex was thrown off guard, but to his credit, he recovered quickly. "Actually, you're only thirty-nine and that means I'm years older than you are."

"I'm not thirty-nine!" she huffed. "I'm closer to thirty…I mean, thirty-seven."

"Rita, our association didn't start on the best of terms. But you want us to go out on a date?

She sighed, looking utterly dejected and embarrassed. "I knew I shouldn't have come here." She turned around. "Well, I tried," Ms. Skeeter said wispily as she got ready to leave as she tried to maintain as much of her dignity as possible.

Alex couldn't help but be was impressed. It took strength for this woman to open herself up like that of a person that she thought was willing to kill her. It also took courage to ask, knowing that it could turn around and slap you in the face. She looked crestfallen, assuming that her entreaty would result in humiliation.

"Wait," he told Rita. He touched her shoulder and the woman froze in place. "Come over here and sit down, please." She did so without any hesitation.

"First, Americans aren't what you think we are," he explained. "Don't believe everything you read in the papers," he told the reporter. "Second, I really am years older than you are, kid as I mentioned earlier. And third, yes, we can go to dinner. It'll give us a chance to talk. And you can wear something sexy."

She gaped at him for a moment. She thought she was wearing something sexy! "Mister Harris!" her face was flushed. "Okay."

'Like Giles would say, "Good Lord, I was just teasing, Rita." "I look forward to going out with you. You're a little young but I guess I can manage going out with a hot young thing."

"Ooh, Mister Harris…"

Good Lord! "Call me Alex."

"Alex, you should say things like that."

"Why not?" he responded in his best Sean Connery imitation.

Rita blushed.

Later at home, Alexander was deep in meditation in the lotus position while floating several inches above his floor. Magic swirled around him as he focused on the magical image of the world map in front of him. Several of the live-in fae hovered around him, drawn by his magic, and acting as bodyguards.

A black spot appeared on the map as he came out of his tranc-like state.

"Got ya," he whispered.