Chapter 3: A Twisted Message

It had been a very quiet morning for Barnabas Cuffe, Chief Editor of the Daily Prophet. Well, that was until Rebecca Amorin, his Security Editor, entered his bureau carrying a piece of parchment in her hands.

"Becky" he said, looking up to greet her with a grin as she frowned. He knew she hated to be called 'Becky' and because of this he could not resist doing exactly that. "What brings you to me today?"

She stared at him for another second, willing him to take back the nickname, then sighed.

"Grizel," she said. Now it was Barnabas who frowned.

"Grizel Hurtz?" he clarified. Grizel Hurtz was one of his advice columnists and also the woman who checked his mail every day. "Did someone try to curse me with a letter?"

"No" Becky shook her head. "But there is a letter addressed solely to you."

"And?"

"It's from one of our readers."

Well, that was a new one. Barnabas raised his eyebrow and held out his hand to take the letter. Becky handed it to him, wringing her hands.

"You've read it," Barnabas said.

"I have," the young woman nodded. "You should also read it, Barnabas."

Barnabas sighted, but did as he was told.

Dear Editor,

I've been following your newspaper for years now, but lately, your articles made me more and more wonder about the seriousness of your paper.

For years, you talked about the magical world and its happenings - but a few months ago, you suddenly seemed to change your image. Where you once spoke about facts, now you suddenly seem to prefer gossip - or how else can it be that a serious newspaper, like you claim to be, can print such contradicting articles?!

From the start of the TriwizardTournament, your newspaper seemed to be more concerned with their sales than actual accuracy - or how else can it be that the articles about Harry Potter contradict my own observations in my day to day interactions with him?!

I'm a student at Hogwarts and therefore more often in contact with Potter than the press. Nevertheless, I expected serious observations and cool assessment when it comes to portraying him in the press, not your printings about a little lost boy or a barking mad individual. I have to say, I have a hard time seeing either in the boy I've seen around the school.

So, how serious are these "facts" you have been printing, really? Will you change your opinion again when new information that you can't ignore comes to light?!

When the boy starts to be a poster-boy for the Ministry, will you then retract the "facts" you have been printing now? Because it seems to me as if your opinion often strangely matches the opinion the Ministry has at that time.

Is this the freedom of the press in the wizarding world: w riting the Ministry's preferred versions of events, using facts to lead your readers to wrong conclusions, using unethical means to get your information?

Where is the serious journalism I am looking for?! Even the Muggles are able to print a newspaper without being biased, inaccurate or libelous.

Why does it seem like the wizarding world is not able to do it?!

Is it out of fear? Is it out of ignorance?

Or is it its people's preferance to stick their heads in the sand and ignore any evidence that doesn't fit to their initial beliefs?

I dare you to print this letter. If you don't, I will finally know that your newspaper is nothing more than a simplistic, biased gossip-rag.

Oliver Twist

"By Merlin!" Was the first thing Barnabas uttered after reading the letter.

"I thought the same, Boss," Becky answered, gritting her teeth. "Will we print it?"

When Barnabas looked up at her, he saw that she was just asking out of principle. Both of them knew they would not be able to print the letter - not as long as the Ministry held the majority of their stocks.

"We won't," he answered, sighing.

"So we proclaim ourselves to be a gossip-rag," Becky said with a bitter tone marring her voice.

"No," Barnabas said, still looking at the letter in his hands. "We don't proclaim ourselves anything. We are a gossip-rag."

This time a bitter tone had also entered his voice.

"And we'll stay one until… I don't know…" he sighed, defeated. "When I entered this newspaper I had great dreams. I dreamed of the serious journalism I knew from my Muggle father who was a journalist himself…"

"Instead you got this," Becky sneered while gesturing arpund the office and the newspaper articles which would land in the rubbish bin just because they did not follow the Ministry guidelines.

"Yes and no," Barnabas answered, now slightly smiling, even if his smile was more a grimace than anything else. "When I entered this newspaper we were printing serious news," he clarified.

"Then why?!"

"The Weasley family was one of the major stock-holders in our newspaper," Barnabas answered sighing. "They had to sell their holdings when they suddenly had money problems. I still don't know how that happened… And after that… well, there is no-one who can hold the Black stocks at the moment - not until Sirius Black gives up his right as the Heir of Black or dies. The Prewitt stocks were sold alongside the Weasley's and the Potter's… well, there was no-one interested in them until now. And even if the boy would be interested, he cannot do anything until he is of age and he has too few stocks to make a difference…"

"So there is no major player except of the Ministry," Becky concluded angrily. "And so they can dictate to us what to do."

"Yes, my dear, I fear you're right," Barnabas answered, sighing.

"How much does the Ministry have?" Becky asked bitter.

"Thirty percent," Barnabas answered. "And the Malfoy family, who aids the Minister, have another five."

"And the rest?" Becky asked and Barnabas could hear her hope. He sighed.

"There is ten percent with the Blacks and five with the Potters" he answered "The Weasleys and the Prewetts each had twenty percent - and were the major players because of that. Now those forty percent belong to… wait a minute…"

Barnabas opened his drawer and took out a thick file, looking through it.

"Ah, there it is," he said. "Weasley now belongs to the French side of the Malfoy family, the Malfoires, the Prewett stocks was divided; ten percent went to the Grim family, five to Evans', and some other minor stockholders like Peverell, Longbottom or Emrys - don't ask me which, they all got shares at nearly the same time. But the fact is, there is no-one there who has more than two or three percent. The only other stock-holder who even has five percent is the Flamel family."

"And so the Ministry can do what they like," Becky concluded.

Barnabas sighed and nodded.

"So there is no way…"

"No…"

Becky took the letter again and stared at it sadly. Barnabas knew she hated the fact that they could do nothing but obey the Ministry. To tell the truth, he agreed with her. Still…

And suddenly he smiled.

"Maybe…" he said and Becky looked up. "Maybe we should lose this letter - how about going to Ottery St. Catchpole to do so?"

Becky looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Then he could almost hear the click as she finally caught what he was talking about.

"Maybe," she answered, smiling. "And maybe I'll lose it today at lunch."

"Do so," Barnabas answered. "And now, back to work, my dear. And don't forget, I do not want to see this letter again."

"Yes, Boss" she answered, clutching the letter to her chest while leaving the room. When the door finally closed, Barnabas grinned evilly. He knew he would have problems because of the lost letter, but he would love to deal with them. He finally could best the Ministry - even if it was in a twisted way like this…

"Oliver Twist," he chuckled. "What an interesting choice of a name."

And then he returned to his work as if nothing had happened at all.