Ruse Aftermath Ⅱ

Despite the late hour, a haggard middle-aged wizard with spectacles hanging off the bridge of his pale nose studied with a sneer the journalist report in hand. "Pathetic Drivel," said 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 just five years ago being thirty-five years old.

Tossing the terrible report into the rubbish bin, Cuffe irritably grabbed the next report from the large pile on his desk. Where was the passion?! Where was the scandal! Where is the drama?! His readers didn't want to hear about the improvement to wizarding society due to the Ministry of Magic, they wanted juicy gossip!

Grabbing the next report on his desk, Cuffe's light-colored eyes flashed as he began to read the report and stops abruptly at the end of the first paragraph. "Mr. Weed how many times must I tell explicitly remind him to check his grammar before submission!"

"Infuriating," Cuffe huffed as he tossed out the report in exasperation. Rubbing his head until his wry hair was all tousled, he dragged his hands down his face. "I best call it a night," he murmured tiredly to himself, before stretching out his back. His back pops loudly in relief, before he reaches over and grabs his cloak, and slips it onto his shoulders.

Cuffe 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 clutching something to her chest. "What do you have there, Miss Twinkle?" Cuffe sharply asked.

Miss Twinkle flushes with embarrassment as she remembers herself and holds the missive in hand. "A late-night emergency summons to the Ministry of Magic, sir!" Miss Twinkle breathlessly said as she stared up with adoration at the object of her affections.

"Bless you, Miss Twinkle," Cuffe said in excitement as he pressed to his lips to that of the utterly dazed witch. Miss Twinkle let out a squeak and was left shocked silly as Cuffe just as abruptly released her.

Running off with missive in hand, Cuffe calls over his shoulder. "Wake the Presses, we have an early paper going out before dawn! And get me, Skeeter!"

"Yes, sir," Miss Twinkle replied rather dazed as she touched her lips dreamily unable to believe that object of her deepest desires and affections had just kissed her.

Cuffe rushes to the nearest floo portal and floo's away into the ministry. Very few newspapers were already present in the main lobby as they sleepily, and some still in their nightclothes whisper about the urgency of the announcement. What could have possibly occurred for the Ministry of Magic to rouse them from their beds in the middle of the night?!

"Sir," a voice said from the side causing Cuffe to glance over and find Rita Skeeter in place. The usually immaculate witch had curlers in her blonde hair but wore a green bed robe tied neatly around her with green fuzzy night slippers. Her bejeweled spectacles gleam as usual.

Skeeter was missing her usual red lipstick though her stubby, red-clawed nails glistened as she clutched her crocodile handbag in her hands. Standing beside her is a sleepy-looking photographer with his camera ready but looking as though he is about to fall over. The poor man keeps dozing off and abruptly shaking himself awake as he begins to tilt to the side.

Skeeter pays no mind to the photographer as she furrows her thin eyebrows, which are not penciled on as usual. She had been roused out of bed and did not have much time for anything even to dress, beyond grabbing her crocodile handbag. "Sir, any inkling as to what might be going on?" Skeeter crisply asked with a pointed gaze at the Editor of the Daily Prophet, and her boss.

"No, but it must be bad," Cuffe smugly said. "The Ministry doesn't have emergency night summons if something hasn't gone to the sh*t show so to speak."

"Perfect," 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 has been nothing tantalizing to write about."

"My thoughts exactly," Cuffe concurred.

The two of them shared a likeminded smile before Skeeter opens her bag removes her acid green Quick-Quotes Quill. "The ever so lovely Skeeter, a purveyor of justice and truth abruptly found herself summoned by the Ministry of Magic in the middle of the night? What could be so secretive that I alone will be witness to? This humble reporter knows not, but she vows to not depart until she has uncovered the whole truth!"

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

The hastily summoned crowd is rather quiet as most of them were quite literally summoned out of bed. Loud, sleepy yawns can be heard regularly echoing throughout the Ministry of Magic's main lobby when right on the hour the Minister of Magic emerges accompanied by her entourage.

Mrs. Prim, the undersecretary steps forward to the pulpit as the photographers are roused away and begin to automatically photograph the pulpit. "The Minister of Magic will address the public and deliver grave news. The Ministry requests that there be no interruptions until the Minister of Magic has finished delivering the pressing information."

"It must be bad," Cuffe grunted from the side of his mouth.

Before Skeeter can ask as to the reason why the Minister of Magic Eugenia Jenkins solemnly steps up to the pulpit. The stout witch with thickly bobbed hair addresses the flashing cameras. "My dear citizens of the Wizarding world," she gravelly began as Skeeter's quill and the rest of the journalists scribble away as they intently crane their ear and necks to listen.

"It is with great solemnity that I describe the events that transpired on this night," Minister Jenkins continued slowly to the great impatience of those listening. "It is with a heavy heart that I regretfully inform that Potions Master Damocles Belby receiver of the First Order of Merlin and creator of the cure of the blight has perished having been murdered most foully."

A barrage of whispers erupts, but Minister Jenkins does not address them. "Senior Auror Percius Clements in charge of the investigation on the tragic murder of his partner, Sara Vinovich, and all in connection to a dark wizard organization that follows a wizard known only to his followers as the Dark Lord. This vile organization is responsible for the violent attacks on Malfoy Manor and the Malfoy Wedding Party which has cost the lives of dozens of our citizens."

Minister Jenkins paused as she solemnly stared over the hungry press desirous for such a story. She hides her revulsion at their thirst for emotional turmoil at the expense of others. Moving on, she continues, "During Senior Auror Clements investigations he found large indications of a pending attack on Potion Master Damocles Belby. In secretive, Senior Auror Clements met with Master Belby, however, Master Belby refused an entourage of protection. As such proper measures were taken to ensure Master Belby's protection and a team of Auror's on standby should the urgent call ever arise."

"The attack came suddenly without warning nor provocation by a far larger organization than previously ever believed," Minister Jenkins candidly explained. "The terrain was not suitable to our side, but still our Auror's fought valiantly to protect their objective. I regret to say that during the onslaught, we lost six valiant Auror's with more wounded and who at present are being tended at St. Mungo's."

Minister Jenkin's face grows firm and steady as she says, "Despite our losses and disadvantages our Auror's persisted and slew eleven members of the vile organization and captured four members of the offenders alive. At present, the four are being interrogated as we speak. Information that can be disclosed to the public shall be released officially within a week, and all other information pertaining to the ongoing investigations will be withheld until a time that said information is no longer classified as relevant."

"How utterly typical," Cuffe grumbled under his breath.

Turning to the side, Minister of Jenkins gestures to the crisply dressed figure of Elphinstone Urquart at her side. Gesturing for him to come up to the pulpit, she turns and faces the crowd again. "It is with utmost honor that I announce the promotion of Deputy Elphinstone Urquart to Head of the Law Enforcement. The former Head of Law Enforcement, Bob Ogden after the recent tragedy has stepped down and officially retired. We are sad to see him go, but we understand the need for him to distance himself at this time. The Ministry of Magic as a whole wishes him well on his next endeavors."

"At this time, the press may address and our newly appointed Head of Enforcement Elphinstone Urquart," Minister Jenkins said as she stepped down from the pulpit and made room for Elphinstone Urquart to step-up.

Cuffe clicks his tongue in annoyance as Skeeter looks from dictating as Cuffe murmurs, "Clever, bastards."

"The Ministry of Magic?" Skeeter dubiously said, "But they have a scandal on their hands."

"Exactly and by sacrificing Ogden, the worst of the naysayers will be appeased," Cuffe grunted. "It was a good move on their part." Skeeter turns away to ignore the editor's words as she had an article to write. Tragically, the Ministry of Magic avoided any word pitfalls and emerged victoriously.

The questions of the press continue for some time until the reporters are satisfied. The morning edition of the Daily Prophet went out early that day as various copies of the report went out early to all of the wizarding embassies. Needless to say, there were plenty of owls flying about to the great displeasure of the Ministry of Magic in broad daylight!