A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts - Chapter 461: The Intern Journalist

The last few days of March passed rather calmly, and Alastor Moody’s procurement work came to an end on a stormy morning when a flock of owls landed on the table in the Great Hall, dragging a massive package. Feathers ruffled, Professor Moody requested a few students to take these poor creatures to Madam Pomfrey for treatment.

“Long-haul flight!” Moody exclaimed. “Trustworthy folks are scarce these days. Being cautious about matters of security is never excessive.”

“That vile person destroyed my collection,” he grumbled hoarsely, “It took me decades to amass! That Mirror had an astonishingly good surveillance effect, monitoring schemes within a one-kilometer radius. The only issue was its hypersensitivity, hence why I moved to a remote location. Otherwise, it’d have been constantly squawking…”

Professor Marchbanks and Old Vira left the school on the same day. Professor Marchbanks carried a report provided by Felix. According to her, convincing the Ministry of Magic to acknowledge a new profession wasn’t an easy task. “They bring up a lot of irrelevant issues, like the salaries for the new department,” she complained loudly. “Always getting bogged down in irrelevant matters, but I’ll do my best to push this through!”

“Are you coming over during the Easter break?” she asked Felix, to which he replied, “April 17th? I’ll remember that and schedule the meeting around that time.”

“What should I prepare?” Felix inquired.

“Shut them up with irrefutable facts!” Professor Marchbanks exclaimed, making a forceful gesture.

Before departing, Old Vira invited him to the Ancient Runes Society during the summer. Felix agreed but hadn’t committed to joining. He needed to witness “more proactive” changes or perhaps intended to contend for the presidency of the Ancient Runes Society.

And thus, April arrived.

The vegetation within the school silently turned green, and the climate became warm and comfortable. Besides the weather, professors from different subjects began review sessions. With heaps of assignments, students grumbled, fostering an odd competitive spirit.

“I was up until midnight last night,” a fifth-year student remarked in the common room. “To finish that blasted essay on Wizarding History!”

“But he’s got three more months to go, hasn’t he?” Ron lamented, comparing two papers as he fretted over his own Wizarding History essay. “First it was fairies, then vampires, now it’s centaurs… What’s wrong with Professor Binns? Does the ghost cake in Classroom 7 not suit his taste buds?”

“All this knowledge is necessary,” Hermione said while perusing today’s newspaper.

“I know, but I couldn’t care less about what the Centaur Chief said while rejecting the term ‘human,’ or the significance of the Centaur Liaison Office. My dad says that department’s never been truly used, not a single centaur’s set foot in there yet!” Ron ranted, his voice growing louder. “It’s become a running joke now. If you dislike someone, pray they get sent to the Centaur Liaison Office because they won’t last long there—Harry, what’s this word?”

Harry, busy with his Divination homework, peered over and, after gazing at his own essay for a while, uncertainly said, “A Banshee?”

“It’s a Banshee,” Hermione calmly corrected, “Centaurs, Banshees, and vampires have historical conflicts. That’s one reason why centaurs refuse to share the term ‘human’ with them.”

Ron paid no heed, mimicking Harry’s handwriting, scribbling aimlessly for a while, then measured something before concluding with a short poem. “Mission accomplished,” he happily declared.

Glancing over, Hermione quipped, “Whose poem is that?”

“I wrote it myself,” Ron decisively closed his essay.

“You’ve broken a single long sentence into seven or eight paragraphs,” Hermione remarked, Ron chuckling as he stuffed the essay into his bag. “Actually, it’s nine paragraphs… Anything new? You’ve been reading for ages.”

“There’s an increasing discussion about Ancient Runes,” Hermione mentioned. “It’s like a hurricane, and the sales of Rune cards are soaring… Many are eagerly awaiting the professor’s new book. They clearly know who the harbinger of change is.”

“And we benefit from this, don’t we?” Ron grinned. His mood had been quite good lately. Last week, employees from ‘Future World’ came over and handed them a hefty bonus—80 Galleons each. According to Neville, even in his dreams, Ron was smiling.

Ignoring him, Hermione continued flipping through the newspaper. “I feel like someone’s missing. It’s odd she’s not commenting on this significant matter…”

“Who’re you referring to?”

“Rita Skeeter,” Hermione said.

“Isn’t that great? That annoying ghost disappeared. Maybe someone knocked her out,” Ron guessed.

“She’s writing a biography of Regulus,” Harry interjected. “Or maybe she’s laying low.”

“Oh…” Hermione drew out the word. “That explains it.”

“What’s up?”

“Do you know what she’s written in her new book? Honestly, if she were abducted by some mysterious person one day, I wouldn’t be surprised. But are you sure she’s got the nerve?” She looked at Harry inquiringly.

“I don’t know the reason,” Harry shrugged. “But Sirius said she’s quite serious about it, showing him the manuscript periodically. Otherwise, she’s completely elusive…”

“How’s Sirius coping with his job? Is he adjusting?” Hermione couldn’t resist asking. “Can’t believe he’s been at a school for so long.”

“He’s adjusting well,” Harry said. “Sirius said he’s found a way to interact with students.”

“He won’t be casting Confundus charms on students, will he?” Ron asked, and Harry didn’t reply. He couldn’t rule out the possibility.

April 7th.

‘Future World’ simultaneously released the magical projector and the second project of the Championship, offering them at 40% off during the promotional period, priced at 120 Galleons. It wasn’t cheap, but it still garnered significant attention.

Especially coupled with the buzz around the ongoing Championship, its name sparked the market. In the first week alone, they sold 150 sets, not including international orders. Though future sales were expected to decline and stabilize, it was a promising start.

This led to fervent discussions about the champions. Wizards seemed to have entered Easter early, with a plethora of owls flocking onto the campus daily. Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were adorned with posters supporting the champions.

Amidst this atmosphere, Rita Skeeter emerged from a Muggle-rented house.

Arranging her manuscript, she wore a satisfied expression. Under immense pressure, she’d produced an unprecedented level of excellence. She believed that if this book were published, it would be a market sensation.

Moreover…

“My peers aren’t lacking in skill,” she mused, gazing at the reporter’s card on the table, bearing her photo and the title—Intern Journalist at the Daily Prophet.

Yes, during this time, she’d vanished from the magical world, not by hiding indoors but by temporarily disconnecting from it.

Upon review, it seems Rita Skeeter’s internship location was altered to better fit her—The Daily Prophet.

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