Arista was standing as tall as she possibly could while walking, feeling confident walking into the Daily Prophet. She was pretty sure she wouldn't feel that way coming out but as long as she felt confident walking in, she figured she could fake the rest.

Of course, she had never met the Editor-in-Chief of the Prophet yet. She had heard some wicked rumors but nothing that Arista didn't feel like she could handle. The press were under her control at the Ministry anyway. She was in charge of helping the Minister of Magic with press queries, writing speeches (though he almost always wrote them himself) and other things dealing with media. So far everything had been going well. As well as expected.

But now, the Minister had a speech he wanted to specifically coordinate with the Prophet so as to get all the details and coverage right. It wasn't anything ridiculously different than her normal day to day activities. Except that she wanted to go in person. Arista could be forceful in writing but she didn't want to owl. She wanted to actually meet the Editor and see if all the rumors were true.

She carried a copy of the speech in one hand, a cup of coffee in another. Never in the same hand - she might spill and that would not be good. With a sigh, she smiled at whoever was sitting at that front desk.

"Hi, I have an appointment with the Editor?"

First order of the day: edit the pile of drivel that had been delivered to her office that morning.

Second order: write another inflammatory piece on the Ministry, featuring Will Channing's dubiously strong ties to muggles and his apparent lack of interest in actual wizarding events. Then write a glowingly positive article of his administration under her pseudonym, Richard "Dick" Titzer. More painful to write, but one must be balance in the print, after all.

Third order: devise a crippling curse to inflict on Apollo Sinistra that would put him in as much agony as possible for as long as possible. Preferably something that would prevent him from bedazzling a pair of boots ever again.

She was, by this time of the day, well into the second order and thinking every other moment about the third, as she had been thinking about it for the past nineish months. There were other things buzzing through her mind; her talk with Shallah, new employees, and the strange thing that had happened that morning. When she had checked on her unwanted spawn that morning, a strange feeling of regret that she would be leaving them once again.

As much as she hated to admit it...she actually sort of liked her newborns. Just, barely. A touch, maybe. And really it only applied to the girl, because the boy was clearly going to be the decoy for Sinistra.

Tristan. Minnie.

BZZZZZZ.

Her doorknob rang. Carmen jumped and threw her quill on her desk. She pushed an invisible wooden button on the desk and the front of the doorknob flipped down, revealing a small speaker.

"What!"

"Someone from the ministry here to see you! Ma'am!"

"Who?"

"Arista Seaborne! Ma'am!"

"Seaborne, yes..." She pulled out a drawer and flipped through the names, pulling out a relatively thin file near the behemoth that was Sinistra's. She probably wants a ceasefire for something.

"Send her up!"

During the one minute and fifteen seconds it took for visitors to make it from the front desk to her office door, she reviewed Seaborne's file and flicked her wand around the room to tidy things up a bit. Then Carmen donned her Ministry Face; relatively pleasant and unassuming (for Carmen anyway), but in no way lacking authority. She was king of this castle and she exuded power from every pore.

When the door opened, a woman about Carmen's age stepped in.

"Seaborne. Hello. Please, sit down." She gestured to the chair across from her desk.

"How's the speech coming along?"

Arista stood, waiting at the front desk so she knew where to be directed. Although the hubub behind the desk was fascinating. There were memos or drafts - papers regardless - flying around the room. Then there was people throwing crumpled pieces of parchment in trash cans with such force sometimes the trash can would tip over. Although it was quiet - tomb-like almost - Arista could just catch people muttering. Word choice or useless threats against the editors, she wasn't close enough to hear. She imagined a combination of both.

She had, after all, worked for editors before and they were certainly no fun when they cut half your work you had been writing for what seemed like hours (it might even have been).

But the frenzied silence was broken by a speaker. Snidgeton had answered the front desk's reply and it sounded like she wasn't too happy. Which made Arista realize this mission may just have been more futile than she thought.

However, there wasn't time to turn back now. Arista had a job to do. She stood a little straighter, squared her shoulders and walked to the office. She knocked and then opened the door.

The office gave the look of something that had been hastily cleaned and organized - but well done. If the conversation ever needed to have filler, Arista could always ask what cleaning charm she did and if it ever involved pink frilly aprons. Someone a long time ago had told her cleaning charms always worked better in pink aprons.

"Seaborne. Hello. Please, sit down."

Arista offered a hand and then sat down.

"How's the speech coming along?"

"Pretty well. When you know the press is going to criticize anything you write, you learn not to care about imagery as much. But the Minister wants the Prophet's at least musing of cooperation on this one. Which is why I brought it for you to read." Arista handed over the folder.

And now the awkward silence ensued. She wanted to let Ms. Snidgeton read it before she spoke again. When she saw her look up she began again, "Your opinions?"

All Ministry employees had dirty hands. It was an unusual phenomenon but one that Carmen had experienced after many forced interactions at the Ministry; when she had been a few years young and just starting her career, she had shaken many hands while on the arm of Sam. Perhaps it was because they were constantly sweating under the stress of her gaze--one could hope.

As Seaborne sat down, Carmen discreetly wiped her hand on her pants leg, looking at the papers on her desk and shuffling them into a slightly more perfect pile.

"Pretty well. When you know the press is going to criticize anything you write, you learn not to care about imagery as much. But the Minister wants the Prophet's at least musing of cooperation on this one. Which is why I brought it for you to read."

Well well well. At least Miss Seaborne was an honest one; but Carmen would still play the game, all the same. It was important to keep up appearances, after all.

"Hmmm."

She took the speech and read through it. Then she pulled out a pair of horn rimmed glasses, slipped them on, and read over the speech again.

"Your opinions?"

Carmen smiled her crocodile smile. Opinions? Her? Never! She was the unbiased, cotton candy heart of the Prophet! As she peered through the glasses, grammatical errors illuminated in red and Ministry Talk in purple.

"Perhaps you should care about imagery more." She put the speech down and pointed at different places. "These dates are wrong. The actual discovery of the fourth unforgivable was the evening of the twenty-eighth. The first verified use of the apparition bug was recorded on April 15th, 2018, and Harry Potter's disappearance came some time after, of course. Also, watch out for split infinitives."

She paused as she came to the next correction.

"My major concern, however, is the...confusion between the fourth unforgivable and apparition bug. It appears they are not directly linked, as Edward Garrow's spell has not been used since March's disaster, and the disappearances continue."

She touched her fingertips together and placed them against her mouth, staring at the parchment as if deep in thought. "Reading this speech, it seems as if Minister Channing is ignoring this still-present threat in favor of somber reflection and patriotic...palaver. This is a rebuilding speech, not a problem solving speech. That's an angle the Prophet won't agree with. It's very political, of course, and I expect you understand that. Otherwise you wouldn't be here, would you?" She flicked her eyes up at the other witch with raised eyebrows.

"Well. At the very least, the facts will be correct."

They tried too hard. Too far this way, too far that way. The news was beautiful in that it could be so hard and concrete, straightforward, whereas political writing strayed into the flighty and extreme. It was hard to undermine people when you tried to be so grand and noble. Channing was guilty of grandness and nobility by the bucketload.

"Perhaps you should care about imagery more." She put the speech down and pointed at different places. "These dates are wrong. The actual discovery of the fourth unforgivable was the evening of the twenty-eighth. The first verified use of the apparition bug was recorded on April 15th, 2018, and Harry Potter's disappearance came some time after, of course. Also, watch out for split infinitives."

"Imagery won't fix wrong facts. But I'll consider it." Arista answered crisply, watching as Snidgeton pointed out the fact errors. She didn't feel like feeling upset over the mistakes. The fact checkers at the Ministry were notorious for being drunk while checking facts, wallowing in self pity, just wanting to get the job done as quickly as they could. So, in the process of trying to meet deadlines they sometimes wouldn't check facts. They could get reprimanded later. Right now there were bigger things to worry about. "Do you want to comment on my habit of ending sentences with prepositions as well? Or is that okay?" Arista asked, almost mockingly.

"My major concern, however, is the...confusion between the fourth unforgivable and apparition bug. It appears they are not directly linked, as Edward Garrow's spell has not been used since March's disaster, and the disappearances continue."

"Politics," Arista muttered, rolling her eyes slightly. When Snidgeton remarked something of the same, Arista gave a smile.

"Reading this speech, it seems as if Minister Channing is ignoring this still-present threat in favor of somber reflection and patriotic...palaver. This is a rebuilding speech, not a problem solving speech. That's an angle the Prophet won't agree with. It's very political, of course, and I expect you understand that. Otherwise you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"It is the Minister's wish, as I understand it, to put the public at ease while giving them just enough information so that they don't feel like it is a coverup. Of course, it probably is a coverup as you can tell. It's all political and since, a you've probably noticed, people trust the Prophet and the media in general less, they tend to take the word of the Minister. Which, is in part, why I'm here." Arista watched for any reaction. She hd heard the woman was like steel - unbending.

"I would prefer people to know the truth so I've got to do something sneaky to fit it in - the Minister rarely has time for second or third revisions these days."

"Well. At the very least, the facts will be correct."

"If the Minister gets his way, they will be Ministry approved facts," Arista said with a slightly disgusted tone. This hadn't been her intention of changing rhetoric when she walked in here but something about the fact checkers made her realize that lying to anyone wasn't going to help anything, was it?

"Do you want to comment on my habit of ending sentences with prepositions as well? Or is that okay?"

"Stylistic choices, Miss Seaborne. You of all people should know that." She raised an eyebrow with a frown as she looked at the parchment. "I'm afraid that editors can't always help style."

Quibbling over edits quickly turned to far more interesting matters--Channing. He was a fascinating subject for Carmen and she enjoyed writing as much as possible about him. He was unlikely in age, appearance, sexual preferences, in every way. She wasn't sure if he even drank tea.

"It is the Minister's wish, as I understand it, to put the public at ease while giving them just enough information so that they don't feel like it is a coverup. Of course, it probably is a coverup as you can tell. It's all political and since, a you've probably noticed, people trust the Prophet and the media in general less, they tend to take the word of the Minister. Which, is in part, why I'm here."

"Ah. There I would disagree with you," replied Carmen. "It's not a matter of who they trust more, is it?" It's a matter of who they hear more of. Which would be my paper. She had unfailing trust in the power of her paper and its ability to influence people. One only had to go back twenty or thirty years to see how it had played a role in the Dark Lord's return to know that it had a power outside that of the ministry's, and greater.

"I would prefer people to know the truth so I've got to do something sneaky to fit it in - the Minister rarely has time for second or third revisions these days."

Interesting. Very interesting. She immediately imagined what would happen if she could get a hold of one of his speeches. Changing it could result in a number of interesting things. Firstly: he wouldn't have time to check the speech, in which case he would start speaking, only to realize that what he had before him was totally useless or could damage his already fragile reputation.

And, whether or not he noticed the changes before he started to speak, he probably wouldn't have time to change them if he did; in which case he would be forced to come up with something on the fly, and those type of words were much easier to manipulate than the premeditated kind. There was also the possibility of Seaborne being fired for negligence or going against the wishes of the Minister.

This delightful series of events spun through her head in a matter of seconds, during which she smiled at Seaborne with her crocodile smile.

"If the Minister gets his way, they will be Ministry approved facts."

Carmen laughed a rather cool laugh and shook her head.

"Politics indeed. Were it not for the politicians, I might have had a very different career. I'm afraid I can't give you any more advice on how to make this speech more...accurate. But I will say that in my experience, the public will always respond best to the truth. Without question. They will feel like they are being treated like children if Minister Channing tries to downplay the apparition bug and ministry weakness. And if what he says doesn't line up with what the Prophet says..."

She leaned back in her chair.

"It won't benefit the Prophet or the Ministry."

Of course, Carmen would make it benefit the Prophet in every way, but this ministry lemming didn't need to hear that.

"Is this a particularly important speech?" asked the editor. "I presume, by your coming here, that it is."

"Stylistic choices, Miss Seaborne. You of all people should know that." She raised an eyebrow with a frown as she looked at the parchment. "I'm afraid that editors can't always help style."

Arista scowled. "You make it sound like my writing style's bad." She hadn't worked her way up to Press Secretary of sorts without having a good writing style. Granted, sometimes it could have gone with more imagery but that was something she had been working on. She took a great amount of personal pride in her writing and to have someone criticize it so easily made her bristle just a little.

"Politics indeed. Were it not for the politicians, I might have had a very different career. I'm afraid I can't give you any more advice on how to make this speech more...accurate. But I will say that in my experience, the public will always respond best to the truth. Without question.

Arista's mind made a split second decision, knowing she might regret it later. "Tell me all the facts and I'll write them. If the Ministry can be infiltrated by the Dark Lord's minions and keep it a secret, then it can have a voice of reason. And to hell with my job anyway. Sometimes the truth is more important."

She knew she was risking a lot telling the Editor of the Daily Prophet this, but somehow it felt right. How she had decided this when walking into the office she felt like she was meeting an over eager crocodile was beyond her. But it still felt like the right thing to do. And all damn the consequences. After all, she had wanted to focus on her fiction writing.

"Is this a particularly important speech?" asked the editor. "I presume, by your coming here, that it is."

"One of the more important ones, yes. The Minister, though, has been getting paranoid. But such, I suppose is what happens when you are looked at under a microscope."

"You make it sound like my writing style's bad."

"Of course not," replied Carmen briskly, though she made no attempt to change her demeanor to a more positive one or praise the glories of the impeccably mediocre speech. Besides, she had no intention of arguing for or against the speech; if this meeting was going to be any use at all, she needed to manipulate the ministry girl. It was the only practical thing to do.

"Tell me all the facts and I'll write them. If the Ministry can be infiltrated by the Dark Lord's minions and keep it a secret, then it can have a voice of reason. And to hell with my job anyway. Sometimes the truth is more important."

Ah. Well, that was easier than she had expected. One did not ask Carmen Snidgeton, editor in chief of the Prophet, for the truth. Unless one was looking for something other than the truth. In this case it seemed that Seaborne wasn't too keen on her work at the moment; no one was happy with the state of the Ministry, of course, and it was an easy thing to play up its flaws.

"One of the more important ones, yes."

Carmen nodded. Lovely; it would logically require more coverage from the Prophet. With the speech full of Carmen's version of the truth--or at least some awkward maneuverings by Channing--it would make for some convincingly authentic reporting.

"The Minister, though, has been getting paranoid. But such, I suppose is what happens when you are looked at under a microscope."

"Indeed. It sounds as if a more genuine speech would be a relief to him. He seems to be an honest man--for a politician--and his background is in level 2. He would like something straightforward. He would like a speech that doesn't dance around the issues the public wants to hear most about, which would be the ongoing problem of the apparition bug, who or what is causing it, and repairing the damage of the fall of magic."

Would it be too much to imagine that Kosa would thank her for this?

"Write something that suits his tone, and he won't care so much if it's risky. Sell it to him the right way and he won't want a word changed. You might even relieve some of his nerves by giving him something familiar to work with. For all you know, a little honesty may earn you a promotion."

"Indeed. It sounds as if a more genuine speech would be a relief to him. He seems to be an honest man--for a politician--and his background is in level 2. He would like something straightforward. He would like a speech that doesn't dance around the issues the public wants to hear most about, which would be the ongoing problem of the apparition bug, who or what is causing it, and repairing the damage of the fall of magic."

Arista nodded, pulling one of her muggle pens she had charmed out of her bag, along with a pad of paper. She had had to play with it, but the muggle pen had been charmed so that it wrote what she was thinking. And since Arista thought fairly fast, an extremely rough draft was done just as Miss Snidgeton was finished speaking. It included new details about the apparition bug although some things would have to be further researched. But still, it was better than the earlier draft.

"Write something that suits his tone, and he won't care so much if it's risky. Sell it to him the right way and he won't want a word changed. You might even relieve some of his nerves by giving him something familiar to work with. For all you know, a little honesty may earn you a promotion."

"Oh, I don't want a promotion. I'm just saving up some money so I can go on to better things." Arista handed over the top copy of the pad (there was a carbon sheet underneath). "It's a little... flowery for my liking but the Minister has a thing for imagery. It'll make it easier to get past his non-noticing eyes." She thought about what she was doing now. Was this really the right thing? Yeah, she thought it was. There were worst things for her to do.

And if she got fired, she could work on her fiction writing and help Artie's mum with the cottage. Yes, there was a plan.

"I'll send you a copy of the final draft although I understand you will be busy. Thank you for your time." Arista took the pad of paper, tucking it back into her bag. With a smile on her face and a new ambition, Arista left the Prophet, ready for whatever else decided to hit her or try to change her allegience - although she had just proven she was able to be swayed easily if it was for the right cause.

The End