Chapter 20 – The Meeting

In Rita Skeeter's luxurious apartment, provided by Lucius, the trio appeared one by one through the laurel-green flames of the fireplace. Rita appeared first, deftly adjusting her blonde hair while her calculating eyes swept over the environment she never tired of admiring, appreciating the sophistication that perfectly reflected her refined taste.

Fleur emerged next, her gaze quickly taking in the flawless golden décor.

Lastly came Lucius Malfoy, the apartment's former owner, with an air of restrained superiority. His sharp gaze swept the room, noting the small modifications Rita had made to the apartment that was once his.

As soon as they arrived, Fleur immediately began to take Zaino out of the backpack.

— Excuse me, Fleur, but I don't feel safe with a basilisk roaming around my home — said Rita firmly.

Fleur gave her a patient, though determined look, before responding:

— Rita, I'll ask him to keep his eyes closed. Zaino is very stressed and needs to stretch.

However, Rita did not relent:

— Then let him go stretch in the bathroom.

Fleur sighed, accepting the proposal with slight hesitation:

— All right, I'll fill the bathtub and add some bath oil so he can relax. Where is the bathroom?

— It's the last door at the end of the hallway — Rita answered.

Fleur nodded, took her backpack, and spoke softly:

— I'll be right back.

She made her way toward the bathroom, carefully carrying the backpack with Zaino still inside. As her silhouette disappeared down the hall, Lucius and Rita remained in the living room, enveloped in a silent atmosphere.

Once Fleur was out of sight, Rita took off her coat, revealing a thin tank top, and stuck a green patch on her shoulder, her expression twisted in pain.

— What happened? — Lucius asked, noticing her pained grimace at the slightest movement.

Rita tried to shrug but was prevented by the pain, her expression growing more uncomfortable.

— I was thrown against the wall by the Minister's defense dome, she gasped, clutching her side with a grimace. I think I sprained something.

With impatience sparking in his eyes, Lucius extended his hand with natural authority:

— Give me your wand, Skeeter. I know how to treat broken bones.

— My wand is stuck to the floor under the Magnet Charm. I imagine I'll be able to get it back by the end of the afternoon — Rita replied, ill-humored.

Lucius arched an eyebrow, intrigued:

— But you don't have a spare wand?

Rita scoffed, incredulous:

— Do you have any idea how much a spare wand costs?

He stared at her, still in disbelief:

— And your parents' wands? Didn't you keep them, even as a memento?

Rita gave a cynical smile:

— How do you think I survived after my name was dragged through the mud? Articles about picnics and peach fairs don't pay the bills.

Without another word, Lucius slid his hand inside his robes and pulled out a small golden wallet. From it, he produced a tiny vial filled with an amber liquid, offering it to her in silence.

— Drink this. It's not enough to mend bones, but it'll ease the discomfort until you get to the hospital.

Rita took the vial with trembling fingers and, without a second thought, emptied its contents in one go. She let out a sigh of relief as the pain gradually subsided. Her ever-shrewd gaze then settled on Lucius with veiled curiosity.

— This will help — she murmured more calmly, though her eyes continued to assess him, as if still calculating his intentions.

— Always so efficient, Mr. Malfoy — she commented, her tone beginning to shift, familiar mischief gleaming in her eyes once more — By the way, I'm counting down the days to publish your story.

Lucius raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt. Rita continued, seizing the opportunity:

— A real twist of fate. You barely returned to the wizarding world and you've already won the heart of a pure-blood Veela from a prestigious family. And if that weren't enough, she's the keeper of a basilisk… — She paused dramatically, her eyes fixed on Lucius. — Many would say you cast a powerful spell to ensure a partner that seems molded to your exact conception of perfection.

Unfazed, Lucius responded with a hint of irony:

— Cast a spell, Skeeter? Believe me, some people simply have what it takes to attract the best.

Rita maintained her provocative smile as she retorted:

— No doubt young Delacour is the crème de la crème. That's precisely why it's so curious that her ex-husband is a Weasley. When it comes to matters of the heart, selection criteria are… mysterious.

Lucius gave a slight shrug with an air of tranquility:

— I believe that, among all wizards, perhaps I'm the last one who could judge Fleur's past or her previous choices.

For a brief moment, Rita hesitated, parsing Lucius's words. Her shrewd eyes tried to decipher him, looking for a subtle game or something deeper in his stance.

— Is that all? No joke about the Weasleys? Not even a smug expression? Could it be that you really have changed, Mr. Malfoy? Did Azkaban turn you into a reformed man?

Lucius smiled serenely:

— I wouldn't say I'm a completely different man, Rita. I don't believe in changes that erase someone's essence. But Azkaban gave me time to think. The greatest lesson I learned is that a truly wise person avoids spotlights and storms.

Rita let out a brief, amused laugh.

— Says the man who just got involved in a plan with a basilisk in the Ministry of Magic — said Rita, leaning forward, her eyes gleaming with malice.

She paused for a moment, appraising Lucius carefully before continuing, more seriously this time:

— But considering that your apparent change might be real, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and share some suspicions I have about this apartment.

Before Rita could go on, Fleur returned to the living room with a satisfied smile:

— Your bathroom is huge, Rita! Zaino is very comfortable in the bathtub.

With a mischievous smile, Rita responded, keeping her witty tone:

— Yes, that bathtub is practically a pool. I always wonder what kind of parties used to happen here.

Lucius, incredulous at Skeeter's remark, arched an eyebrow and replied icily:

— I'm not sure what you're implying, Skeeter, but perhaps it would be more useful for you to stop speculating and hand over the map so Fleur can transcribe what she memorized from the original.

Rita gave a soft laugh but complied, taking from her purse a folded piece of parchment. Carefully, she opened it on the coffee table in front of the sofa and handed Fleur a pen.

Fleur, focused, closed her eyes for a moment, letting each detail of the map settle in her mind. After a few seconds, she opened the backpack, took out her glasses, and put them on precisely.

With meticulous care, she began to transcribe the information onto the paper. Her movements were graceful and precise, while the silence of the room was broken only by the soft sound of the pen sliding across the page, transforming thoughts into words with flawless fluidity.

Lucius watched her with a gentle gaze, moving closer with the kindness of someone willing to interrupt only to offer a thoughtful gesture.

— May I prepare something for you, Fleur? —he asked quietly, almost in a whisper, so as not to disrupt her concentration. — Perhaps some tea, to help you relax?

Without looking up from the map taking shape under her fingers, Fleur smiled, small and thankful.

— Tea would be perfect, Lucius. Thank you.

Lucius, a hint of complicity shining in his eyes, couldn't resist his curiosity:

— Any particular flavor?

Fleur raised her eyes for a brief moment, her expression tinged with slight shyness, before answering gently:

— Surprise me.

Before he could move to fulfill her request, a sharp, familiar voice cut short the moment's enchantment.

— Before you ask where I keep the tea, Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry to say I only have coffee here — said Rita, eyeing him shrewdly.

Lucius looked at Rita incredulously, as though living without tea were an outrage:

— Perhaps it's time to reconsider your caffeine intake, Skeeter — he replied, combining disapproval and irony in equal measure.

Rita merely let out a short laugh, shaking her head, ever ready with a witty comeback:

— I'm saving the tea for retirement.

But Lucius, without losing track of his intention, turned his gaze back to Fleur, determined to fulfill her wish:

— There's a tea house not far from here. I could go and bring you something you'd like.

With a gentle gesture, Fleur touched Lucius's hand, her fingers resting lightly on his.

— No need, Lucius. I don't want you to go to that trouble.

Lucius tilted his head slightly, as if struggling to contain his impulse to please her.

— It wouldn't be any trouble, Fleur. Anything for my savior.

Fleur let out a soft laugh.

— Lucius, I don't want you to feel indebted to me. We're a team. Besides — she paused, smiling — I can drink coffee, it's no problem.

Lucius hesitated for a moment, his head inclined, as though admitting a subtle weakness.

— But unfortunately, I don't know how to make coffee.

Rita stood up from her seat, as if waiting for the perfect cue:

— All right, Malfoy, stop hovering around Fleur and come on, I'll teach you how to make a decent cup of coffee.

Fleur, smiling softly, looked at Lucius with a mixture of amusement and complicity:

— It could be useful to learn how to make coffee, Lucius — she said lightly, with a playful tone.

Still trying discreetly to learn more about Fleur, in a subtle attempt to show his gratitude, Lucius asked:

— How do you like your coffee?

Fleur sighed, removing her glasses to look at him directly:

— Lucius, I know you're trying to please me, but I really need to transcribe everything while it's still fresh in my mind.

Lucius felt a slight discomfort at her remark, realizing she was right. He had always despised inconvenience in others, but now he saw he had fallen into the same trap. Fleur, noticing his embarrassment, softened the tension with a smile.

— But if you really want to know, I like my coffee hot, strong and very sweet. If the sugar cubes are small, six. If they're large, four.

Lucius raised his eyebrows, surprised:

— That many?

Fleur smiled, amused:

— I like it very sweet. Now, go make my coffee!

Rita Skeeter, ever ready with a provocative remark, seized the chance:

— They say coffee preferences reveal a lot about someone's sex life.

Fleur cast an exasperated, incredulous glance at the reporter.

— Seriously, Rita? Haven't I been explicit enough about how important it is to transcribe everything immediately? At this rate, I'll never finish this map.

Rita let out an amused laugh, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender.

— All right, Fleur, I'll stop — she said, still laughing. — I work with your mother, so I know very well it's not wise to rile a Veela. I don't want to see that side of your temper!

Fleur shook her head, heaving a tired sigh but still managing a slight smile.

Lucius, visibly exasperated, shook his head, decisively ending the conversation:

— Come on, Skeeter. Let Fleur work in peace.

Without waiting for an answer, he headed to the kitchen, resolved to make the drink. Rita, watching him closely, allowed her attention to return to Fleur, who continued transcribing times, names, and arrows with remarkable precision. Fleur's dedication and skill sparked a flicker of curiosity in Rita. Unable to hide her admiration, she posed her question with a hint of challenge:

— How much of the map was she able to memorize?

Lucius, once again looking at Fleur—now wholly immersed in her work—gave a serene smile, laden with admiration.

— Everything.