Rita Meets Her Match

Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter sits in the dark and foreboding dungeons of one Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts. The Potions Master himself sits before the reporter behind a lovely desk of Mahogany. Like the man himself, the lovely desk is scarred and stained, inner strength showing through faded beauty. Dark eyes look upon the reporter from the face of a thirty-six year old who appears forty.

"Is that a Quick-Quotes Quill?" Severus Snape asks, with his trademark curiosity. The reporter gives an affir-

Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter continues her article by having her photographer write it manually since Potions Master Severus Snape of Hogwarts broke her freaking quill.

Severus Snape (SS): What is the point of this?

Rita Skeeter (RS): I'm interviewing you on behalf of Witch Weekly.

SS: Obviously. Why?

RS: Well, for many reasons. Your dark past, haunting mystique, your association with both the Dark Lord and Harry Potter-

SS: Ah. Want to do a repeat of your colored biography of Potter and "Harry Potter's Secret Heartache?"

RS: Oh, you're a fan. Lovely.

SS: Oh, yes, your write wonderful comedy.

RS: I am a reporter.

SS: Not a very good one, then. Potter would rather face twelve Dementors than admit he was anything other than the Perfect Gryffindor, and for all his faults, his sight isn't lacking enough for him to date that ugly little Granger girl. You really should focus on weeding out inaccuracies.

RS: You know Harry Potter well, then?

SS: What is to know? He's just a nasty little boy, like every other nasty little boy. He just gets punished less for the same crime.

RS: You think Mr. Potter is treated too permissively then.

SS: So in addition to having an inability to write, you're deaf besides? If only you were dumb as well.

RS: I beg your pardon!

SS: You're excused from existence. Feel free to stop wasting oxygen and die at any time.

RS: !!!!

SS: If dying is another task you can't manage, just say the word and I'll help you.

RS: I can die just fine! I mean, write and hear!

SS: Really? Then you were just acting like a git earlier? Have you ever thought of Broadway?

RS: I was not acting like a git!

SS: So you're trying to fake intelligence now? How long do you think you can keep that up?

RS: Just answer the question!

SS: I'm don't have to fake intelligence.

RS: I mean do you think Harry Potter is treated to permissively!

SS: No. It's perfectly acceptable that he gets rewarded for breaking rules. If anything, Dumbledore is far too strict with him.

RS: But you just said he gets away with too much!

SS: Then why did you ask a second time?

RS: Fine! You want a battle of wits? Let's play!

SS: Oh, I'd never engage in a battle of wits with you.

RS: Good, because I can make you the laughingstock of the wizarding world.

SS: I never attack someone who's unarmed.

RS: !!!!!

SS: I believe you were asking me about Harry Potter. Don't tell me that you've got Alzheimer's Disease on top of congenital deafness and dyslexia?

RS: I do not have Alz-Alz whatever! And I can hear you just fine!

SS: And I can hear you fine as well, there's no need to shout.

RS: Did you know Harry Potter's father, James.

SS: Yes. He beat me up every day and twice on exam days.

RS: So you'd say James Potter was something of a bully.

SS: Oh no, that was his way of expressing affection. Sirius showed his affection for me by having his friend Remus, who was a werewolf, try to rip me to shreds. Pettigrew also showed his great brotherly love for me just yesterday by pointing a wand at me and saying Crucio. Repeatedly.

RS: Peter Pettigrew? He's dead.

SS: Then the Spirit division of the Magical Creatures Department had best investigate the heretofore unheard-of phenomenon of a ghost using a wand.

RS: Ghosts can't use wands.

SS: Thank you, captain obvious. Sarcasm eludes you, doesn't it?

RS: I understand sarcasm.

SS: Not that great of a liar, are you? Just how did you get a job at the Daily Prophet?

RS: If you're suggesting I received employment by snogging the editor-

SS: I suggested nothing of the sort, I merely asked a question. Interesting you should point that out so quickly.

RS: How dare you insinuate-

SS: I'm not insinuating anything, merely pointing out something interesting. I'm a scientist, that's what I do.

RS: So you see yourself as a scientist more than a teacher?

SS: I've never considered that. Let me think. Well, if I was a scientist I'd be at Ravensreach, but I'm here. Teaching Potions. No, I must be teacher.

RS: You just said you were a scientist.

SS: Yes, but not more so than a teacher. You must learn precision if you are ever to be a good reporter.

RS: If you had life to do over again, would you still be a teacher?

SS: No. I'd be an assassin and eliminate a certain man named Tom Riddle.

RS: Enemy of yours?

SS: Enemy of yours.

RS: I just asked you.

SS: That's what I said.

RS: No, you said "Enemy of yours?"

SS: Exactly.

RS: What?

SS: Miss Skeeter, you appear confused. I believe you're not acclimated to the atmosphere here, and it's affecting you. Perhaps you should leave.

RS: Yes... that sound lovely. Let's go.

~*~

Rita Skeeter wandered out of the dungeons, looking dazed. "Pete, when we get back to the Prophet, tell the editor I'm taking the summer off. Maybe all the reporting for the Triwizard Tournament wore me out."

The photographer, Jim, nodded, leading Rita toward the exit.

In his office, Snape smirked.