❝𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪'𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨❞
- 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘺
YOU WINCE AS A BRIGHT FLASH HITS YOUR EYES, FLINCHING AS A HEADACHE GREW INSTANTLY.
the flashing immediately reminded you of your short time at the ministry.
"what a charismatic group" a woman dressed in all olive green with poofed up light blonde hair and slanted glasses matched with red lips and pale skin grimaces slightly.
she had insisted that, you and fleur, being the only two ladies in the room be sat on chairs while the boys stood.
you had to sit with your hands in your lap, and ankles crossed and to the side, smiling warmly for the camera.
cedric stood behind fleur, and krum to your right.
"hello" the woman says in an odd voice, stepping forward towards you all while slouched with her arms swinging back and forth.
"i'm rita skeeter" she introduces with a grin, shaking all of your hands with an odd movement.
she grins and steps back, "i write for the daily prophet. but of course you know that, don't you?"
you purse your lips,
"it's you we don't know" she waves her hands about.
she runs her tongue over her teeth awkwardly.
"hah, you're the juicy news"
you frown slightly.
"what quirks lurk beneath those rosy cheeks" she caresses both fleur's cheek before giving it a small smack, you gape slightly.
she runs her hair along your plait, "what normalties lay beneath the abnormalties"
your eyes widened slightly and you frowned, looking at your knees.
everyone glared at her.
"what mysteries do the muscles mask?" she shakes her head weirdly and steps up to cedric, tousling his hair.
"does courage lie beneath those curls?" she pokes her face between cedric and harry.
"in short, what makes a champion tick?"
she huddles the two boys in close, looking between the two of them.
" 'me, myself and i' want to know" she grins, "not to mention my rabid readers" she throws her head back, chuckling.
"so.. who's feeling up to sharing? hm?"
nobody seemed very excited.
"shall we start with the youngest two?" she yanks harry by the arm suddenly and you frown heavily, feeling uncomfortable.
"lovely" she pulls him away.
she drags harry into a broom cupboard.
harry's interview was over after a few minutes and then she had come to drag you out.
you wince as she yanks your arm, sending a pleading look to the group who look at you with pity.
you duck slightly as you enter the cupboard, looking around.
you sit on the chair opposite the one skeeter had sat.
she stares at you with a smile, you stare with a small frown.
"you don't mind if i use a quick-quotes quill, do you?"
you shrug slightly, "i guess not.."
"hm, tell me, dear [name], a girl merely twelve.."
you blink, "oh, sorry, miss skeeter.. i'm actually fourteen"
she looks annoyed, you purse your lips.
"about to compete against four students, only one your age, the others vastly more emotionally mature than yourself and harry"
"um.. yeah...:
"these students have mastered spells that you wouldn't attempt in your dizziest daydreams"
you shrug, "i mean.. yeah.."
her eyes scan you.
"concerned?" she questions.
"um.. kind of? i'm only a fourth year, so.."
the quill jots something down.
"now, let's stray a bit from the tournament.."
isn't that what we're here for?
"your muggle-born, correct?"
"oh, uh, yes..? i, um, don't really see what that has to do with anything.." you murmur, feeling wrong for questioning her but also feeling rather uncomfortable.
"hmm.. and what's with.. you know, the hair?"
"uh.. what do you mean?"
"why dye it?"
"oh, it's not dyed.."
"don't lie to me, girl"
you frown.
"i-i'm not.. it is natural.. it's not my natural colour, i'm naturally [hair colour].. but i ate too many sakura mochi's and the pigment coloured my hair and eyes.."
she hums, the quill writing quickly.
"on that topic, i hear you have a large appetite. you know what muggle sumo wrestlers are, correct?" she doesn't wait for your answer, "sources conclude you eat three sumo wrestlers worth of food in one sitting. does that seem about right?"
"oh, um, i guess, yeah.."
"you don't worry about getting.. i don't know, a bit chunky?"
you gape at her words, folding your arms over your stomach.
"i.. uh.. no?" you say meekly, "i mean.. i don't know.. i.. what does this have to do with the tournament?" you squeaked, cheeks flushed.
she clicks her tongue slightly, "just a bit of background"
you frown.
"so.. i hear boys.. and girls.. are quite attracted to you?"
"oh.. i don't know about that" you look to the side.
she ignores your answer, "well, i notice you are quite.. large around the.." she gestures to her own breast area.
you flush bright pink, "oh.. um..?"
"do you, perhaps, use your.. womanly beauty to attract men? you must be putting up this sweet girl act to attract all these boys, aren't you? i hear they sure do love that"
you gape, "what?! i-i no! i don't! what?!"
you stare at the quill, who was scribbling furiously.
"ah, just ignore the quill. well, back on topic, do you think this strive for male attention may have lead to your entrance for the tournament?"
you frown, feeling overwhelmed tears brimming your eyes. "i didn't enter myself into the tournament,
she hums, "is that so?"
she gives a weird wink, you frown.
"no need to lie to me, [name]. everyone loves a rebel. and really, who would suspect you? what do you think your poor, sweet, muggle parents would think about this. they'd be worried sick, i'm sure"
"oh, probably? but i didn't put my name in-"
"hm. so this does seem to be a constant strive for attention? it seems you are one for standing out. the unnatural coloured hair, which you have quite obviously dyed to stand out, the innocent-girl nature, the big breasts, fake i'm sure" she said off-handedly.
you gasp, "i- what?! i'm fourteen! i-i-" you stammer, unable to form words of how baffled you were.
"see, can't even make the words. first sign of a liar"
"i did not get breast implants!!"
you eye the quill again, hands shaking slightly, the writing reading 'likely due to a lack of attention in her youth, she uses attention-seeking tactics such as hair-dyes and certain surgeries for a more womanly look'.
you shriek, "take that out! i don't use either hair-dye or surgery!"
your face was burning hot and your heart was tight with fear of telling her off.
neither her nor the quill listened.
"you may leave now?"
you stormed out, furious tears brimming at your eyes and fists clenched with rage.
the others send you alarmed looks as you storm out and out of the room.
date posted ; 17/12/23