Culling Aftermath Ⅴ

Despite the late hour, a haggard middle-aged wizard with spectacles hanging off the bridge of his pale nose studied with the Ministry of Magic missive with a sneer. "Some of us would like to sleep," angrily muttered the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, Barnabas Cuffe. (He was in fact the youngest editor in chief for the last hundred years as he'd been made chief about five years ago only being thirty-five years old.) Never mind, the fact that he had not been sound asleep when the Ministry of Magic missive arrived nor the fact, he had been up editing late into the night reviewing a number of journalistic reports! It was the principle of things and the Ministry of Magic did not like to play fair in the ever ongoing battle of wits to seek the truth!

Notwithstanding the lateness of the missive, Cuffe's eyes gleamed with interest. Was it possibly another attack? The public throng would eagerly lap up any sign of danger. Then again, the Ministry of Magic had been rather impeccable as of late. Thanks to the A.P.D. petty crime was all but effectively staunched, while the Auror's successfully apprehended criminals thanks to the intel provided by the A.P.D. Why it was actually safe to walk about Knockturn Alley without any fear of being robbed! It was simply unheard of!

If that was not enough, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Elphinstone Urquart was nigh impossible to rile. Unlike Ogden, who'd become furious at a pointed barb and bellow back at the press, Urquart patiently answered every single question in that infuriating calm tone of voice of his! If anything else, the Auror's under Urquart were nearly untouchable as the Slytherin was clever with his words. Even his most trusted of journalists, Rita Skeeter was unable to gain an upper edge against the slippery and ever evasive Elphinstone Urquart!

Pulling on his coat, Cuffe's light-colored eyes flashed with determination. He'd find the scandal this time! And he'd pin it to the Ministry of Magic this time around for sure!

Pausing to adjust the cuff of his shirt, Cuffe patted down his wry, tousled hair. He wrenched his door open to nearly crash into his secretary, Miss Twinkle, a witch, who despite the late hour still wore a glossy, recently applied pink lipstick. She stands there breathlessly with wide eyes flushing lightly. "Er, sir, would you like to join me for a cup of tea?" She hopefully asked.

"Not tonight, Mrs. Twinkle," Cuffe gruffly replied causing Miss Twinkle to wilt with disappointment. "But I would not mind sharing a pot of tea upon my return."

"Of course, sir!" Miss Twinkle beamed with stars in her eyes. The poor witch was head over heels in love with the grumpy editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. And Barnabas Cuffe was not exactly opposed to the witch's attention. He might just have a soft spot for the silly witch.

Clearing his throat, Cuffe says, "Well, I'll see myself out, Miss Twinkle. And make sure the presses are ready to start printing the minute, we get back. We'll send the paper out first before anyone can get the jump on his! And get me, Skeeter!"

"Already hear, sir!" A voice sharply said from behind them both. The immaculate figure of Rita Skeeter appeared with her blonde hair with neat, tight curls. She wears a crisp, green outfit with bejeweled spectacles hanging from the tip of her nose.

Skeeter purses her red lipstick-colored lips and waves her stubby, red-clawed nails at Cuffe, while clutching her crocodile handbag in the other. "I thought to make certain I was presentable this time," she loftily said recalling that the last late-night missive she had been forced to attend with her curlers still in place and in her emerald bed robes with matching green fuzzy night slippers!

"Excellent," Cuffe murmured, before turning towards Miss Twinkle. "Hop to it, Miss Twinkle!"

"Yes, sir!" Miss Twinkle adoringly replied, before hurrying off towards the printing presses to obey the source of her infatuation. That and to prepare a pot of tea with a platterful of snacks. She had a date to get ready for!

Cuffe turns back towards Skeeter and hurries forward, but not before briefly nodding at a tired-looking photographer holding a great large camera in hand. The poor man was at least already awake this time rather than about to kneel over from lack of sleep. The three of them hurry to the nearest floo portal and floo away to the Ministry of Magic.

They weren't the first to arrive as they had already been beaten by several other newspapers. Colleagues, rivals, and friends quietly chatter in the Main Lobby about the reason for the possible summoning. Good news or bad news the papers of that day always sold out. The Ministry of Magic always was good for business. Mostly.

Skeeter furrows her penciled eyebrows. "Sir, do you believe it is another attack?" Skeeter crisply asked with a pointed gaze at her superior, Editor of the Daily Prophet.

"Mm, I am not certain" Cuffe admitted. "There does not seem to be a sense of panic even though there seem to be an awful lot of Auror's on the premise. But then again, it could be a bluffing attempt on the Minister of Magic's to negate a bad image."

"Good," Skeeter purred with vile glee. "I've felt my talons wilting as of late. There has been far too much peace and prosperity that there is nothing tantalizing to write about."

"My thoughts exactly," Cuffe agreed.

The two of them shared a likeminded smile before Skeeter opens her bag removes her acid green Quick-Quotes Quill. "The elegant, and rather stylish, Skeeter, a source of truth and justice finds herself once again summoned by the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night! Has another precious member of the masses fallen prey to vile attackers much like the belated Potion Master Damocles Belby? Is this the sign of the Ministry of Magic's failings and that of Minister Jenkins?! This humble reporter suspects that is the case and vows not to depart until she has uncovered the whole truth!"

"Flawless," Skeeter murmured to herself, before tearing off the written parchment, crumbling it up, and tossing it into her crocodile handbag.

The crowd continues to chatter as many of the journalists had become used to being summoned in the middle of the night by the Ministry of Magic. Unlike the previous time around there is hardly anyone dressed in pajamas. However, their voices trail off as the Minister of Magic emerges at the front lead by an entourage including the undersecretary, Mrs. Prim, and that of the new Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Elphinstone Urquart.