Rita Skeeter's Refusal
"Yes, Mr. Mike Phil, I saw the resurrected Voldemort, and I know very well the ritual he used."
"Professor Dumbledore isn't joking; he really is back. If needed, I'm available to attend your meetings and answer some questions..."
Diagon Alley, Leaky Cauldron.
Kyle sat in a relatively quiet spot, writing a reply to Dougal McPhail on parchment.
During the period after the holiday, he often received similar letters asking if he had really seen Voldemort resurrected.
Most of the letter writers were from the Fantastic Beasts expert I met at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.
For example, Professor Locknir of Beauxbatons, Mrs. Rozinov studies Dragon in North America, and Hagrid's favorite, Mr. Lima, who published "The Monster Book of Monsters".
It's likely that Dumbledore told Newt, and Newt found them.
Then there were those who had previously awarded him the Order of Merlin.
Dougal McPhail was one of them; this morning marked the second time he had written to inquire about the veracity of the matter.
However, the hasty cursive handwriting on the parchment revealed that even though he already knew the news, he was still not at peace.
In the letter, he also mentioned that Dumbledore was preparing to hold a meeting in his own name to explain the matter in detail and to formulate a series of plans for the future.
He wanted to know if Kyle would attend the meeting; if he did, he wouldn't need to ask some questions in the letter.
To be honest, Kyle didn't actually get this information from Dumbledore, but he wouldn't mind making the trip if needed.
Kyle handed the reply he had written to Ladon, who clutched the envelope and struggled to squeeze out of the skylight, leaving behind a few feathers.
"Tom, two Butterbeer, please," Kyle called out. "And have you thought about opening the window wider?"
I don't think it's necessary.
Old Tom, sitting behind the bar, looked up at the few owl feathers on the floor. "If you could get a normal owl, you'd find that window would fit perfectly."
"Merlin's beard, what exactly did you feed that owl? Dragon liver? Or did you use Engorgement Charm on it?"
Kyle shrugged, offering no comment.
However, the person sitting opposite him was amused by Old Tom's words and let out a harsh, somewhat affected laugh.
"The Triwizard Tournament champion using Engorgement Charm on his pet owl—that's a great topic. Can I write about it?"
"What do you think?" Kyle asked without looking up.
Rita Skeeter raised an eyebrow and said nothing more, but her hand remained pressed on the fancy mechanical quill pen.
"Do you know how much torture this is for me?" she couldn't help but say.
"Just because I won't let you write about me using the Engorgement Charm on the owl?" Kyle asked. "It can't be that serious. It was just an old Tom joke."
"You know that's not what I meant," Rita Skeeter said in a low voice.
"The Minister for Magic in 1858, Dougal McPhail, the resurrected You-Know-Who, Dumbledore's private meeting."
"Any one of these three pieces of news would be enough to shock the entire Wizarding World... but I can't write anything about them. Isn't that torture?"
"Don't talk nonsense. I didn't stop you from announcing the resurrection of the You-Know-Who to the Wizarding World, did I?"
Just then, Old Tom walked over with two glasses of Butterbeer and a plate of butter cookies.
"How much."
"No need this time." He revealed a few loose teeth. "Congratulations on winning the Triwizard Tournament. Hogwarts hasn't had this honor in a long time."
"If that's the case," Kyle said, "Then another glass of Ogden's Old Firewhisky."
"No problem, please pay ten Galleon first."
"Didn't you just say you'd treat me?"
"Butterbeer and biscuits only," old Tom said calmly.
"Then I don't want it... How stingy."
Old Tom turned around without a word and went back to the bar.
Kyle then pushed one of the bottles of Butterbeer toward Rita Skeeter and continued, "In fact, if you're really willing to report on the You-Know-Who, I won't stop you; in fact, I'll give you a generous reward."
"How about 100 Galleon per article... If you write ten in a row, you can get all the prize money I won in the Triwizard Tournament."
"A very tempting offer," Rita Skeeter said, but instead of answering Kyle's question directly, she took a sip of her Butterbeer.
"Honestly, when it comes to making up stories, you're more suited to this job than I am. I almost believed you just now."
"But for now, if you don't have anything else to do... I'll go back and write tomorrow's front-page article."
She stood up and said, "The Daily Prophet has been urging me for ages... Oh, thank you for the Butterbeer."
"You're scared?" Kyle said with a laugh. "This is the first time I've ever known you can be scared."
The next second, the Butterbeer mug slammed heavily onto the table.
"I, Rita Skeeter, have never been afraid to publish anything!"
The commotion attracted the attention of many people, but upon seeing that it was Rita Skeeter, they all silently turned their heads away.
Nobody wants to associate with this gossipmonger if they care about their reputation...
Rita Skeeter ignored the commotion around her, took a deep breath, and said, word by word, "But I will not, and cannot, publish articles that people don't like, as that would ruin my reputation."
"I don't know what game you're playing, but I do know what would happen if I told everyone that the You-Know-Who who started the magical war more than a decade ago has returned?"
"They'll think of me as someone like Xenophilius Lovegood, and my career will be over. I will never make such a stupid decision!"
"Even if I use the photos as leverage?" Kyle asked calmly.
This time, Rita Skeeter fell silent. She sat down again, picked up the Butterbeer on the table, and chugged it down.
After a long pause, she finally said, "I can buy that photo with all my savings."
"I don't need the money," Kyle said.
Rita Skeeter fell silent again.
Although her previous writings contained a great deal of artistic embellishment, they were all extensions based on a small portion of the facts.
She has never written about anything so obviously fake as the resurrection of You-Know-Who.
Rita Skeeter could imagine that if she actually wrote that, not only would the readers of the Daily Prophet not let her off the hook, but even the Ministry of Magic wouldn't let her off... unless, of course, the You-Know-Who actually appeared later.
But that's impossible. Everyone knows that the You-Know-Who has been killed by the Chosen One, Harry Potter...
Resurrected? Don't be ridiculous.
Although Dumbledore said so, no one believed him, including her.
The only wizard in the Wizarding World to survive the Killing Curse is the famous Harry Potter, but he didn't die.
As for those who died and were resurrected... not a single one, including the most famous dark wizard of the Middle Ages, the Herpo the Foul.
At most, they can only become ghosts.
"I don't understand why you would do this, just to scare others? If so, you could have come up with a different reason, or just give it to me. I'll write it for you. There's no need to use the You-Know-Who's name; it's taboo!"
Rita Skeeter's tone held a hint of pleading, "It's not worth it, and you'll be affected too. You just won the Triwizard Tournament, and you're a member of the Order of Merlin. There's no need to go crazy with Dumbledore and that Harry Potter! It's not worth it!"
Kyle simply looked at her calmly without saying a word.
Rita Skeeter's expression kept changing, finally turning grim and fierce.
"I'd rather go to the Ministry of Magic right now and admit I'm an Animagus," Rita Skeeter said in a low, firm voice, "But you won't get away with it either, I swear!"
Although doing this would mean she could no longer obtain any secret information, and might face various investigations and even pay a considerable price, it was at least better than being directly reported by Kyle.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and her expression grew increasingly fierce.
"I will reveal every word you said today and tell everyone that you, like Dumbledore, are complete madmen and attention-seeking idiots!"