How Much Did You Pay That Reporter?

Rita Skeeter hesitated, then reluctantly sat down, worried that Ivan had some sort of conclusive evidence.

In fact, even without proof, Ivan could cause her a great deal of trouble simply by reporting her to the Ministry.

After all, in order to write explosive articles, she had used her Animagus form to track the interviewees and sneak into their homes to gather confidential information.

This was not only a breach of Ministry regulations, but also an offence against a large number of reputable wizards, and Ivan would most likely have her locked up in Azkaban if her illegal identity as an Animagus had been revealed…

"Where's the parchment?" Ivan said, his tone heavy.

Rita Skeeter fumbled for her crocodile-skin handbag, but when she took it out, Ivan grabbed it from her.

Seeing the nonsense on the parchment, Ivan tore it to shreds in front of Rita Skeeter.

"How…how dare you…" Rita Skeeter's eyes widened and her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but she swallowed her words under Ivan's cold gaze.

"Reprint it, I'm watching!" Ivan said, tapping the table.

Rita Skeeter hesitated, then reluctantly took out a fresh roll of parchment and started writing again.

Under Ivan's intense gaze, Rita Skeeter struggled to come up with various compliments.

At first, it didn't go well, but after a few paragraphs, Rita Skeeter seemed to have found inspiration. The more she wrote, the more excited she became. Eventually, she let loose completely…

Ivan, who was watching, was stunned.

In particular, there is a passage that states that he had the mind of a Minister for Magic since he was eight years old, and that he often brooded over the future of the wizarding world under the still night sky…

"Ahem…" Ivan couldn't help but cough.

Rita Skeeter, who was in the middle of writing, looked up at Ivan suspiciously.

"I think what you've written needs a bit of revision," Ivan reminded him laconically.

Correction? Rita Skeeter did not quite understand the meaning of Ivan's words, but then it dawned on her.

She must not have been flattering him enough!

Thinking of this, Rita Skeeter decided that she would have to polish it up a bit more to please him when she got back.

…

When they came out of the interview room, Doggett was talking to Director Stamp of the Patent Office.

When he saw Rita Skeeter shake Ivan's hand with a fake smile on her face, he felt as if he had met his nemesis and fled without looking back. He immediately became worried and turned to Ivan.

"Did you offend that old woman? She's not exactly known for her big heart…"

"No, we had a good time. You'll see when you read the Daily Prophet!" Ivan said, shrugging.

Doggett was curious as to why Ivan was so confident. He knew something about Rita Skeeter.

As the Daily Prophet's most famous journalist, Rita Skeeter was an expert at digging up juicy tidbits, and the people she targeted were often caught up in trouble and gossip, which nobody knew how Rita Skeeter learned about.

Ivan shook his head, unwilling to divulge any more information than necessary. The only reason he was able to restrain Rita Skeeter was because he had read the book and knew her weakness.

Doggett had to swallow his curiosity and lead him away from the Ministry.

It was nearly dawn when they arrived home. Ivan sent Doggett away, briefly explained to Alicia that the trip had gone well, and then lay down to sleep.

…

On Wednesday morning, Ivan was yawning over breakfast when he saw a flock of owls flying in through the front door, windows, and fireplace.

Was there an owl disaster in the house?

Before Yvonne could comprehend what was happening, countless envelopes began to fall from the sky, piling up so high they threatened to drown the table, along with owl feathers.

In addition to the envelope, Ivan's sharp eyes caught sight of a newspaper in the mix, and he reached out to take it.

The newspaper's front-page photo was the one he took with Fudge before they left the viewing room.

After that was Rita Skeeter's article, which Yvonne read through carefully, only to find that not only did she not listen to her, but she even exaggerated it.

Yvonne had to admit, though, that Rita Skeeter was quite the writer.

With just a few paragraphs, he was able to put his potion-talent image on paper, and with Rita Skeeter's last-minute, touching stories, Ivan was moved to tears.

"What the hell is going on?" Alicia came out of the kitchen with her cookware and stared at the envelopes.

"Well, I don't know exactly. Maybe because of that?" Ivan waved the Daily Prophet.

Alicia picked it up curiously and studied it for a while, her expression growing odd.

"How much did you actually pay that reporter? How much did she speak up for you?"

"He didn't give me a single copper, so maybe the Daily Prophet reporter thought I was one of those people…" Ivan shrugged innocently.

Alicia smiled and pinched Ivan's cheek. She didn't believe a word of it…

Together, they used the charm to clean up the envelopes on the floor. Under the influence of the charm, countless letters were gathered and stacked neatly in a corner.

Yvonne opened a letter and read it. It was a letter from a werewolf wizard, thanking him for being so concerned about his well-being and praising his service to the species.

Yvonne blushed. She had no idea she had done so much for werewolves.

The envelope also contained a deposit for the purchase of the first batch of Wolfsbane Potions.

"These letters can't all be pretty much the same, can they? And when do they go back to?" Ivan asked, staring at the pile of letters in front of him with a headache.

"A lot of people wouldn't get the chance to do that," said Alicia, rolling her eyes at him, but she helped him open the envelope and count the people who had ordered the Wolfsbane Potion.

As for the details of the reply, Ivan remembered the answering quill he kept in the shop, which could be used to reply automatically after a slight change in the judging mechanism.