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SPOILER!!: you two Quote:
Originally Posted by SlytherinSistah  The man had a sour expression on his face when he entered the reception area of the Daily Prophet-almost as though he were about to vomit. He was, and very clearly at that, quite disgusted by the state of things at his alma mater and he had a mind to say something about it...right here...right now...with his opinion piece submission.
Zohar Smith, as he was known to the locals, wasn't a writer by trade. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that he wasn't a writer by trade today, but tomorrow, who knew what that held. Limits became constructs to be broken or set up when you were the oh so deadly mix of bored and intelligent. Zohar was an Arithmancer by degree, but a confidence man by force of nature. And when his plans to infiltrate the school back in 2065 died before they were born, he found it desirable to taunt the Divination appointment. Especially given that the current appointee was the result of the teachings of the one to whom he'd lost the position. Cassie. Morgan.
Charlatan. Quote:
Originally Posted by Magical Soul Vic had a Daily Prophet under his arm as he strolled up towards the building that issued the very thing he brought as proof. He remembered that perky red head from the journalist's psuedo-arrest. She said she'd help him, and it was time she delivered.
He seriously needed a date for his sister. STAT. She needed someone to fuss over other than his girlfriend, yes? YES.
It wasn't crowded in the hall, he could only see one man and so he walked further in and looked around for any red heads. "Have you seen a perky young lady with red hair around here?" He addressed the man in his easy tone.
Stepping out of his office to use the loo - one of the only real reasons why he ever really left his office during regular working hours - and grumbled to himself when he saw instead that there were two visitors impeding on his path to said loo. Bloody hell.
Subtly stuffing newspaper into his red converse to give him an extra two inches, he made his way towards the pair. Sans potty dance, for the record.
"Welcome to the Daily Prophet. I'm the Editor-in-Chief, Basil Skeeter. Something I can help you two with?" Or something they could help HIM with? Like a news tip? Hmmm?
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