sounds: Me filing my nails
“Ms. Vane, may I have a word?” It’s Mr. Barnabas Cuffe, the head editor of The Prophet.
I raise my eyebrows at Grizel Hurtz. We had been chatting about a recent letter she received from a troubled witch who believed her pet Crup to be suicidal. By the looks of this woman’s stationary, I’d be suicidal too. It looks like someone retched something hideously floral all over the parchment.
“Of course, Mr. Cuffe,” I say politely. I rise from my work station and follow him back to his office. I smile to myself. It’s not everyday that the editor from the Daily Prophet wants to speak to someone such as myself. He gestures for me to have a seat and settles behind his desk.
( I wonder what he has to say?Collapse )
I woke up early this morning to have a meeting with my editor from Witch Weekley, Lareyna, about a new model. Su Li, I think her name is, and she’s becoming quite popular in the different adverts in the media. Apparently, Lareyna and Li’s boss want me to work with her for a few weeks in January...
Anyway, the meeting took longer than I expected, so now I’m running late. I’m supposed to be going out with Parvati tonight, but I have an article for the Prophet due Monday. I thought about canceling, but it’s been too long since we’ve gone out together. I reckon I’ll work on it tomorrow, if I’m sober. Or, I’ll just get a quick quill to do it for me. I never knew it would be so difficult to write for 2 publications at once.
( A Night OutCollapse )
As you all know, my name is Romilda Vane and I work for Witch Weekly. Have been for two years.
I have a bad reputation for 'gossip'. Really, I'm only telling the truth... even if it is a little twisted. It's not like I'm telling flat out lies. I'm getting awfully tired of all these people's owls coming with curses upon curses for me, just because they or their friend was mentioned in one of my articles. I can't please everyone! And I certainly won't try. I have a very good reason for what I do and what I write.
You see, when Hogwarts closed my fourth year, my father decided to teach me at home. Of course I got the best tutors money could buy, but it did start to get frustrating staying locked up in my house with only mum and dad when I had a free day. So I started to sneak out to clubs and parties. Oh, I knew that You-Know-Who was up and about, but I’m a pureblood, I thought I was safe.
About a year after Hogwarts had closed, I had sneaked out to a local muggle dance club to meet a friend one night. About an hour into the dancing I caught a glimpse of a black cloaked figure in a far corner. Now, any other night I may have thought nothing of it, but my mum and dad had gotten into another argument about dad going to work every day when there was a Dark Wizard trying to take over the ministry. Dad worked in the department of mysteries, so he was automatically a target.
Needless to say, I was just a bit paranoid. So, I grabbed my friend and dragged her out of the club, telling her that there was danger. She was a fellow Gryffindor and my best friend. Her name was Morgan Dorny. When we got outside it was raining and she asked me what was going on. I couldn't get a full sentence out coherently, which is very unusual for me, and all I could say was that I thought I had seen a Death Eater and that we needed to go to my house and tell my parents. She had come on the Knight Bus and was supposed to be spending the week with me.
We never got back to the house that night or any other night. It was gone. The only thing left was a pile of rubble and the Dark Mark floating above it.
I went the only place I knew after that: to my Aunt Grazia's in Italy. She sent me to Celio, Scuola per Streghe e Maghi di Italia. My father’s mother was Italian and his father was Scottish. They both loved Italy, but when Nonna died, Nonno moved back to Scotland. Aunt Grazia decided to stay in Italy since she was already in her sixth year at Celio. Dad had been only seven, so had not been enrolled yet.
Sorry, back to my story, my peers at Celio were not very thrilled to have a Hogwarts student at their school and the only friend I had was Morgan, but she was entering Hogwarts for her fifth year, so all we could do was to send owls to each other and occationally fire-call.
I didn't have many friends for those 2 years. Although, I did start a school newspaper so that the students could know what was happening in the outside world. It was important to me and I only told the truth, they hated me for it. They hated that I was drawing the eye of the headmistress with my Verità newspaper. Verità is the italian word for ‘truth.’ I guess they couldn't handle what I would write. Really, it was all innocent enough. Just a few articles about assorted topics: long-term projects, the latest couples, hottest guy, and pranks, to name a few.
I think it was the gossip that made them hate me so much. Really, I only passed it all along, I didn’t come up with it or spy on people just to get the latest scoop. I had boyfriends, of course, but none ever worked out. They thought they owned me. Like I was nothing. Well I'll tell you this: they knew when I was done with them that you don't mess with Romilda Vane. Oh yes, I'm wonderful at paying back those that wrong me.
In my seventh year, we had to decide what we wanted as a career. I already knew. I was going to work for The Daily Prophet and be as accomplished as Rita Skeeter.
Once out of school, I moved into a small flat in London (with the help of my Aunt) and applied for a job at The Daily Prophet. I was assigned to Witch Weekly instead, but I have written freelance for the Prophet over the years. I hope to get hired there permantly sometime soon.
But, for now, I'm having fun. Morgan and her sister Becca introduced me to Parvati Patil, whom I have spend many fun nights clubbing with. We've met some fit blokes, but I don't want to commit myself. I'm only 20, after all.