The Brightest Black - A Dramione Fanfic

Rubbish

Rita stared at the bin in front of her and wrinkled her nose. The stench of rotting garbage was sunk into the very stones around her. There had been some sort of wizarding lodging here since the Romans had place the first stone thousands of years ago, possibly even before that. But the stones were not what drew her attention. Rather, it was the fresh pile of discarded newspapers just barely poking out from under the lid.

This was not what she had signed up for.

Well, she supposed she hadn't really signed up. More like she'd been pressed into service.

And what was her reward? Her life? Glory? Fame? She didn't know anymore.

When Narcissa had told her to just be herself she'd been confused. She'd been told the wards wouldn't let her transform and snoop. But then she'd decided to test them...

She'd been numb, disturbed by what she witnessed every day. Memories had attempted to escape her locked chest.

So she'd thought the pain of trying to transform and having it blocked would wake her up, keep her focused, keep her alive.

Yet when she had started to slip into her alternate form no pain had come. Rather she'd found herself once more looking at the world through insect eyes.

Either Narcissa had tweaked the wards or she knew a lot more about Rita's heritage than anyone else did. Or Narcissa had lied about the wards, a distinct possibility.

Whatever it was, the transformation had awoken something inside and she had once more found herself glad to be alive. She had set about ensuring that, no matter what happened, she would remain so. It hadn't been hard to sneak into the attic of the manor and procure any and all raw materials she needed. Aside from that, she'd been given a camera and magical film to take 'normal' shots of Death Eaters for the book Gilderoy was writing. Then all she had to do was slip some of the film into her homemade cameras and hide them around the manor - ready to be activated with a simple spell.

There had been no flash when she used them in the dining room, but the room had been brightly lit enough that things were still alright.

After she had escaped the battle she'd sent Narcissa a quick owl with the location of the cameras.

It didn't hurt to play both sides.

Which brought her back to why she was standing in front of a rubbish bin, outside one of the most exclusive wizarding hotels in Europe, and preparing to go digging through it.

Stupid things were charmed against summoning spells. Supposed to keep the riffraff out.

She did not appreciate that her current situation in life put her on the same rung as riffraff.

Nearly gagging she pulled on a pair of thick gloves and began digging. Luckily she didn't have to go far to find a copy of the Daily Prophet. After another few minutes and several papers in languages that she couldn't read she found copies of the Daily Gold, the Fae Chronicles, and the Circadian Leaf.

That was enough.

She stuffed them in her bag and apparated away.

She landed in a deserted bit of French forest. Headless of her already ruined robes she dropped to the ground and pulled out the papers, spreading them out so she could see all of the front covers.

The Daily Gold, Circadian Leaf, and Daily Prophet were all from this morning, but the Fae Chronicles was marked as a special edition and had come out yesterday afternoon - about twelve hours after the battle.

There, right under the headline, were her pictures, and below that an article with Hermione Black's name on it. She took a moment to examine the pictures, they weren't great, but they definitely showed the chaos of battle. The largest image was of Hermione Black forcing Bellatrix Lestrange backwards, her head thrown back in laughter, showcasing the characteristic Black madness.