Saturday, June 14
9:45 am

Snark Manor
135 Serpentine Rd,
Bayswater, London

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A crack of Apparition broke the morning silence and birds erupted from nearby shrubbery.  Niobe Thursby appeared and after patting down her dreadlocks, strode up the walk to the gates of Snark Manor.  Within a few strides she had her Verbatis quill out, and that trusty pad of parchment she used to record her interviews as accurately as possible.

She'd been awoken late last night - her niece had heard from her friend who was a student at Hogwarts that none other than Analiza Snark had crashed the school's Leaving Feast!  And while the details had been very minimal, this could mean nothing other than Analiza Snark was to be the new Headmistress of Hogwarts!

The nomination was preposterous in so many ways and the questions were already banging at the back of her teeth to escape.  She had no background in education, and to top that, she was so young - not even an Order of Merlin to her name.  Not to mention her sketchy status as head of the Department of Mysteries.  And anyone who'd met who never had anything more charitable to say other than "she gets things done". 

A Headmistress Snark was likely only the tip of the iceberg.  And Niobe was going to be the first to get to the bottom of this!  She had no intention of blocking or interfering of course.  That was not her place.  But the truth of this insanity must come out.

She had just raised her hand to knock at the gate when another Apparation crack cut through the air.

This was a big day for Rita. She had a tip-off that one Analiza Snark had stormed into the Hogwarts end of year feast. Checking with her sources, Rita was ecstatic to hear that it was in fact true. The red headed vixen had walked into the hall in ridiculously click-clacky shoes and had rendered the whole school silent. For a moment.

Knox Greyfriar had been courteous in his greeting, but anyone who was someone knew that there was no love lost between the Headmaster and the head of the Department of Mysteries.

Rita turned on the spot outside of her London flat and arrived with an air-splitting crack outside of the Snark manor. One would be idiotic to try and apparate within the boundaries of any wizarding home - Merlin only knew what security measurements they would have installed.

The atmosphere shifted before Rita even touched the pavement. Something was not quite right. She smoothed her olive skirt and straightened her green cloak, quickly glancing in her mock-croc bag to ensure her quick-quotes quill and parchment were there. She patted the bag for good measure, lifted her head high and-

"Oh." She stated glumly as she saw the familiar dreadlocks of one Niobe Thursby. Rita's mouth twitched in annoyance. Those dreadlocks needed to be cut off! Who knew what would be growing on that scalp of hers? " Thursby." Rita nodded curtly, unsure of what to say next. It was obvious why she was here - this was a big scoop - but Rita was in denial, hoping against all hopes she was just calling round for a coffee, or to borrow a shrunken head. Niobe would be into that kind of thing, wouldn't she?

Niobe rolled her eyes at the appearence of the older witch.  Skeeter was an institution and the Daily Prophet.  She was loved and hated with equal fervor that Barnabas Cuffe would be a poor businesswizard indeed to let her go.  Luckily, only the most willfully naive ever bothered to read or believe her writing.

But Niobe wasn't so arrogant to believe Skeeter's brand of journalism was completely useless.  Her extreme bias was needed in some cases.  But her acid words would only cover this mess with Snark and Greyfriar into more of a debaucle.  If she thought she was getting this interview, she needed to check the bottom of her cauldron for brain-poisoning mold.

"Skeeter, you just turn right around and get back to your weekend.  I've got this covered.  This isn't some interest piece for your gossip column - this is real news and like I said: I'm handling it.  So, slán and good day!"

Rita's eyes widened momentarily - wasn't Thursby just a peach? Her lips twitched again - that hair! Every time, that hair! Rita tried to focus on the woman's face.

"Actually," She said slowly, pulling her quick-quotes quill and parchment from her bag, and brandishing her quill in front of her like a wand, her most powerful weapon. "I think you'll find this is an interest piece for my column. Oh, no! You're not pushing me out of this story! You," she jabbed a finger in Niobe's direction, "You try and push me out of every big story. You can't handle that what I write is infinitely better than the drivvle you produce!"

Rita folded her arms over her chest and turned her head away in an expression of 'I-know-I'm-better-than-you', a slight 'Hmph' emanating from her pursed lips. "And what I write isn't gossip." She stated as a quiet afterthought, slightly offended. "Its the truth."

Truth? Truth! Rita Skeeter was going to talk to Niobe about truth? Niobe's jaw dropped and her brows furrowed in righteous indignation. 

"You batty witch!" she cried in the morning air. "Don't you talk to me about truth, Skeeter.   I don't doubt you might have flirted with it just enough to brush it aside for your juicy, inflammatory editorial - but really! I'm here looking for facts.  How does this possibly interest you? Please, just go.  I'm going to have an interview and then we can sort this out with Cuffe later.  Don't make me vanish your quill."

With a hasty glint in her eye, Niobe reached up and grabbed the knocker on the gate in the shape of a coiled serpent with gem eyes.  The knocker writhed to life and a very fancy voice inquired who was calling.

"Niobe Thursby, Daily Prophet to see Analiza Snark."

"I find the insults a little uncalled for," Rita said huffily as she quickly hid her quill behind her back for fear of it suddenly vanishing. Goodness knows I could spout a few of my own regarding that ridiculous mop atop of your head! she thought to herself with pure distaste. "But if we're going to play at that game..."

Rita charged forward with all of the might in her small frame and barged Niobe's shoulder, aiming to shove her out the way. "And Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet." she shouted into the knocker as quickly as she could. "Also here to see Analiza Snark!"

Rita turned her head towards Niobe with a look that said little less than a smug "HA!"

When Rita roughly pushed Niobe, Niobe stumbled back and had to take a step off the curb and into a muggle automobile.  The car then began to sound some sort of raucous alarm! BREEP! BREEP! BREEP!

Even in a muggle neighborhood, Niobe drew her wand in surprise.  She aimed it first at the car, then at Skeeter and then at the  car again! 

"Silencio!" she shouted and the car squeaked and squealed and now breeped much more weakly - magic never worked properly on muggle things!  Flustered she rounded on Rita.

"Expelliarmus!" she said, casting the Disarming Spell, but aiming not for Skeeter's wand, but for that trusty green quill of hers.

So Niobe was thrown back into a heap of metal that beeped? At least now Rita had a shot at this interview. "Quick!" She said in hushed whispers into the gate. "She's got a wand, and she's not afraid to use it!"

No sooner had she finished speaking quickly into the knocker, her quill flew out of her hand. Rita whipped around with a squeel of horror. She focused on Niobe, who now had the quill brandished teasingly in her hand. Rita's eyes narrowed.

"If you have a problem with me, Thursby, you take it out on me." She warned, her voice lowering to a raspy hushed tone.

"For Merlin's sake, spare the quill!" she pleaded, her hands clasped together in front of her almost as though she was praying for a miracle to happen and her eyes as wide as a pygmy-puff after having too much caffeine.

Now that Niobe had Rita's quill, she privately admitted she didn't know what to do with it! When a reporter was a reporter for as long as Rita was, the quill was almost a second wand.  You went everywhere together and the articles and essays were as much a product of your own toil as  your quill's.  Now, a quill wasn't as magical as a wand - you couldn't cast spells with it.  But you did get comfortable with it, and most reporters felt their quills knew them.  Could Niobe actually do anything to Rita's famous quill?

And look at her - vulnerable and now pleading.  Niobe couldn't help but take some pleasure at that.  Rita Skeeter was frankly intimidating as the most famous journalist in all of Britain - Niobe could only dream of the doors that opened for her and the mouths that spoke into her ears so freely.

But Niobe needed this interview.  With an expression of stone, she looked at the quill and back at Rita.   And with a cock of her eyebrow, she tossed the quill into the air.  

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The quill, almost as light as a feather, danced above their heads.  With one hand on her wand, Niobe kept the acid-green quill aloft.  With the other, she pounded on the knocker again.

"Sorry to bother! Still waiting to hear from Madam Snark!" she said into it, trying to stay calm and sound professional and unruffled.  

Niobe seemed to be considering Rita's pleading. Had it really come to that? Why should she, Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet variety, have to resort to begging to a woman who had no chance at being as famous as herself. Rita watched with wide eyes as Niobe looked from the quill and up to Rita.

Rita was about to open her mouth to say something else in her defence, when Niobe tossed the quill into the air like it was a piece of meat being tossed to a dog. Rita lunged forward and tried to grapple at the air to catch her beloved, her pet - but Niobe was using her brains on this one and allowed the quill to hover in mid air as she spoke into the gate once more.

Rita's eyes narrowed and she began mumbling profanities under her breath as she leant against the wall of the Snark Manor grounds. Thoroughly defeated, Rita blew a whisp of white blonde hair that had coiled its way down in front of her eyes, waiting for the decision of the gate as to whether Thursby would be allowed in. No doubt if she was, she would wait until safely inside the grounds, then toss the quill once more over the gate with little more than a warning of 'Catch' for good measure.

But wait. You're a witch, damnit! Rita chided herself mentally. Why should a witch have to put up with treatment like this from an inferior? Rita pulled her wand out from the pocket of her olive robe while Niobe was still transfixed on the gate that seemed as reluctant to talk as a flobberworm.

Rita aimed her wand at Niobe's. "Expelliarmus!"

Outfit

"Miss Analiza, there is a guest by the name of Niobe Thursby at the front gate..."

A soft, elegant voice her father had charmed into the walls of the house echoed in the library and Analiza glanced up from the book she was reading to stare at some random point on the wall. "Niobe.. Niobe.. Ah. The Prophet is here to poach a fresh story are they..." Analiza sneered, her top lip curling in disgust. Those at the Prophet were not among her friends after they wrote up a ludicrous and untrue article about her treatment of her subordinates based entirely on hearsay. However, they were the most widely read and trusted (though how they managed to succeed that while continuing to employ Skeeter was beyond her) and Analiza knew that she needed to submit to their questioning if she was going to be able to fix the public view of herself.

"I will go freshen up then." She said, dog earing the page of her book (while completely ignoring the fact that it was a first edition passed down several generations) and making her way to her room. She had no intention of hurrying her beauty regimen, they would wait. It was, in her opinion, the job of the newspaper to wait outside the homes of their unlucky victims like vultures eying a octogenarian lost in the Mojave desert. If they really wanted the story, they would suck it up and stand there until she was damn good and ready to grace them with her presence.

Several minutes later, completely unaware of the duel happening right outside her doors (the walls, you see, were sound proofed when they moved in), Analiza descended back down the stairs of her home and to the front door, which she threw open with dramatic flourish only to find... no one.

At first she was irritated, believing either the door spell was faulty or that they had dared to leave, but her fears were quickly washed away when she heard the sounds of a squabble filtering down from the edge of the grounds. A frown marred her brow as she wondered why they had chosen to wait at the gate instead of coming in, had they discovered a more interesting story? Surely not in the peaceful and rather secluded area of Bayswater that she resided in. Apparating to the gate, she was surprised to find not one but two reporters, dueling it out. For a moment, she watched with silent amusement as Skeeter and Thursby brandished their wands to fight for the honor of interviewing her. However, as all fights for the affections of another did, it grew wearisome and Analiza yawned loudly to announce her presence.

"Are you two  quite done? You are drawing attention to yourselves..." She eyed the house down the road warily. They were far enough down that she didn't fear discovery, but she was not all that keen on the ministry hammering down her door because her neighbor drove by and wondered why grown women were role playing on her front lawn. It was publicity she didn't need in either world.

Rita's well aimed Disarming Spell tugged Niobe's wand sharply from her grip.  The levitation spell on Rita's wand was broken and it fluttered to the ground.  But Analiza Snark appeared and Niobe's attention snapped to.

Leaving her wand for the moment, Niobe patted down her hair and straightened the smart little vest she wore.  She tried to smile pleasantly at the very fashionable witch.

"Journalists!" she said jovially, "We're a strange breed.  Skeeter and I have just decided to conduct this interview jointly."  Niobe gave the other reporter a very crunchy look that both pleaded and demanded she play along for both their sakes.

"We'd like some of your time this morning.  Our sources indicate that you've been selected as the new Hogwarts Headmistress.  Quite unexpected and I know the Daily Prophet readers would want to be filled in on the details.  Can we come in?"

Aha! The wand had slipped from Niobe's hand easily. Rita almost cried out with delight as it made its way smoothly into the palm of her large hand and she let her fingers curl around the teak handle.

However, her delight was short lived when a seemingly unimpressed Analiza Snark made her presence aware. Rita looked at Snark, down to Niobe's wand and back up to the new headmistress, shoving the wand behind her back and grinning sheepishly.

Niobe was quick-thinking and apparently not as selfish as perhaps Rita had always assumed, as she indicated that the two would be conducting the interview simultaneously. The look that Niobe shot the elder reporter was both a warning and a plead. Rita gave a half sigh, tossed the stolen wand into the air aiming at Niobe as a reconciliation tactic. She turned to Analiza and nodded as though reiterating that it was in fact a joint decision.

As Niobe asked if the two could go in, Rita couldn't take her eyes off Snark's outfit. "That red - that colour!" She exclaimed in delight. "It is truly amazing just how much it compliments the tones of your hair!" Flattery was always good in this business - and she was sure that Niobe wouldn't have quite so much tact at it as herself. Of course, she did like the colour.

"Journalists! We're a strange breed.  Skeeter and I have just decided to conduct this interview jointly."

"Mmm...hm." Analiza replied to her comment, eying the woman with one slim red brow arched to the hilt. She didn't recall accepting any interviews or offering an invitation for one, especially not to the Daily Prophet. But then, she shouldn't complain, any press is good press, especially in such a touchy situation as this. She remained in a rather cynical silence as Thursby continued.

"We'd like some of your time this morning.  Our sources indicate that you've been selected as the new Hogwarts Headmistress.  Quite unexpected and I know the Daily Prophet readers would want to be filled in on the details.  Can we come in?"

"I suppose I have time..." Analiza glanced at her watch with the casual nonchalance of someone who considered their time extremely valuable and a privilege that the two women should be honored to be bestowed. It seemed that Skeeter got this point right off the bat, because she immediately went into displays of flattery that would have made the most accomplished manipulator a bit queasy.

"That red - that colour! It is truly amazing just how much it compliments the tones of your hair!"

Analiza, a manipulator herself, knew better then to think the flattery was sincere But then, everyone knew better when it came to Skeeter. A three year old with a pogo stick lodged through the reasoning part of his brain knew it. However, Analiza allowed herself to feel flattered. After all, in her opinion, she never got flattered enough. In her mind, even insincere flattery was better then none.

"Why thank you, Miss Skeeter, you do seem to have an eye for fashion..." Analiza resisted the urge to add 'even if you don't show it'. She needed to be on her best behavior. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, the Daily Prophet had quite a bit of sway over the parents of her future students, and even though no one really believed Skeeter anymore, her inflammatory articles could always spark a rumor. And rumors were the worst possible thing for Ana's tentative reputation at the moment. She had to play it safe and, as much as she hated it,... nice.

"Follow me then..." Ana said swiftly, turning on her heel and marching towards her house with long, broad steps. Holding her head high and proud, with the backdrop of the stately Snark Manor in the background, Ana was sure that she was making an excellent impression as a leader to the two women. If that didn't work, she had plenty of things in her home to bribe them with.

Niobe rolled her eyes as Rita stooped to vapid witch-talk and complimented Snark's attire.  Skeeter was a different sort than Niobe.  And while Niobe couldn't always judge her strategies, she could certainly be annoyed by them.  Niobe was more the type of reporter to get right down to it.

And she did!

As soon as Snark gave her implicit approval for the interview and began leading them inside, Niobe began asking questions.

They passed a finely clipped topiary. "It's been only a week since the Board of School Governors announced that Knox Greyfriar had resigned; when did you find out you'd been selected? Did you meet with the Board?"

Niobe had done a little bit of reading over night and had found that in past appointments, the selection process had taken weeks or months.  There were interviews and vetting and all of that.  Niobe didn't yet deny the proper channels had been circumvented - but she did suspect.  She certainly planned to see Persepolis Zephyr straight away once she got some answers from Snark.

The three witches rounded a stone fountain.  "Do you feel qualified to take on the position?"