Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 872: Deal and Cooperation

In fact, unemployment did not suit Rita. The hair that had once been set in elaborate curls now hung lank and unkempt around her face. The scarlet paint on her two-inch talons was chipped and there were a couple of false jewels missing from her winged glasses.

Her crocodile-skin handbag had also lost its luster, giving a sense of downfall, just like the whole person.

“It’s nice to meet you, the hope star of the wizarding world and little Miss Perfect,” said Rita sarcastically, walking over staggeringly, and sitting down at the table of Evan and Hermione. “What do you two want to do with me now?”

After being caught by Evan last term, she kept her beetle form and was kept in a glass jar for more than half a year.

Hermione didn’t let her out until the summer vacation began.

As an agreement, she was not allowed to write any articles without the consent of Evan and Hermione.

For Rita, it really killed her. She was idle at home every day.

Needless to say, she must hate Evan and Hermione terribly now.

“A deal, of course!” said Hermione irritably, spreading all the anger towards Evan on Rita. “But if you’re sarcastic about both of us in that tone, the deal’s off.”

Evan nodded and supported Hermione unconditionally.

“What deal?” said Rita, taking a trembling breath. “You haven’t mentioned the deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up, just like your own servant. Oh, one of these days…”

“Yes, yes, one of these days you’ll write more horrible stories about Evan, Harry and me,” said Hermione indifferently. “Find someone who cares, why don’t you?”

“They’ve run plenty of horrible stories about you. I think they did a good job, better than I thought,” said Rita, asking Tom to bring her a glass of firewhisky. “How has that made you feel? Betrayed? Distraught?”

“Lupin told me about this some time ago, and they seem to have got some help from you,” said Evan.

In this situation, it would be strange if Rita hadn’t done anything.

“I can’t be blamed. My article’s been stolen. It happened to be about you and Dumbledore.” Rita gave a nervous smile. She knew very well that the boy in front of her was not as harmless as he looked. “It was a big loss to me, but anyway I complied with the agreement and never wrote anything else. You can’t…”

“Well, Ms. Skeeter, I think we should be more honest and open.” Evan took a breath and said, “Hermione’s right. If you still have this attitude, we probably have nothing to talk about.”

“What do you want?” Rita lowered her glass and subjected Evan to a piercing stare. “You can’t just ask me out for a drink, can you? I remember our relationship doesn’t seem to have been that good…”

“Obviously, we are here to discuss cooperation with you,” said Evan. “you should know that Voldemort’s back!”

At the sound of the name, Rita visibly shuddered, her hand holding the firewhisky stopped in the air.

An unabashed panic flashed across her face, and her smile became stiff.

Calling Voldemort by name like Evan, Hermione, and Harry casually, was simply unthinkable to other people in the wizarding world. They had a natural fear of Voldemort, and Ron couldn’t do it until now. Harry had been trying to correct Ron, but he hurriedly changed the subject every time.

“You mean all this garbage Dumbledore’s been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you and Harry being the sole witnesses?!” Rita asked, shivering. “This is crazy…”

“This is not crazy at all, but the truth. Moreover, the two of us were not the only witnesses. There were more than 20 Death Eaters there as well,” said Evan. “If you need, we can provide their names at any time and make them public.”

“This sounds really good!” Rita said softly, fumbling in her bag with her right hand, and taking out parchment and an acid-green quill. “A great bold headline: ‘Mason and Potter Name Death Eaters Still Among Us’. Well, I think it’s better to use Harry Potter for propaganda here. Beneath a nice big photograph of him: ‘Disturbed teenage survivors of You-Know-Who’s attack, Harry Potter, 15, and his classmate Evan Mason caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the Wizarding community of being Death Eaters…’”

The Quick-Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression died out of her face.

“But of course,” she said, lowering the quill and looking daggers at Hermione, “Little Miss Perfect wouldn’t want that story out there, would she?”

“As a matter of fact,” said Hermione sweetly, “that’s exactly what Little Miss Perfect does want, or else what would we want from you?”

Rita was stunned. She stared at Hermione, and then turned to look at Evan, studying whether the two of them were serious.

“Evan and Harry have told the Minister of Magic the truth, but the Minister was too much of an idiot to believe them.” Hermione continued, “He thought it was Dumbledore who was seizing power, and he even began to slander Dumbledore…”

“Everyone knows Fudge’s stupidity.” Rita asked Hermione in a hushed voice, “You just said that you want me to report what you say about He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named?”

She didn’t care whether Voldemort was really resurrected. What she needed was an eye-catching topic. What could ignite public opinion more than Voldemort’s return and the undiscovered Death Eaters?!

Besides, Rita was not a fool. She could feel that Evan and Hermione were telling the truth.

If so, her report would be recorded in history and play a vital role.

The International Confederation of Wizards would certainly give her an award, even the Order of Merlin.

As for the suppression of the Ministry of Magic, that was never within Rita’s consideration.

“Yes, I do,” said Hermione. “Evan and I want you to report the true story, exactly as Evan and Harry report them. They’ll give you all the details, they’ll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters they saw there, they’ll tell you what Voldemort looks like now…oh, get a grip on yourself,” she added contemptuously, throwing a napkin across the table.

Hearing Voldemort’s name again, Rita still overreacted. This time, she had jumped so badly that she had slopped half her glass of firewhisky down herself!

Rita blotted the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Evan and Hermione.

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