"I simply happened to recognize your name and felt a certain 'connection' with your style, so I sought you out," Alan said with a thin smile, watching Rita Skeeter.
"Oh? I didn't expect a young hero to have such refined taste. I'm confident that in less than ten years, I'll be the most famous front-page reporter in the country," Rita said, her eyes gleaming with predatory excitement.
She could hardly contain herself; her Quick-Quotes Quill, hovering nearby, seemed to pulse with her frantic energy, scribbling nonsense across a roll of parchment before Alan had even finished his sentence.
"So, Mr. Wilson, as an underage wizard, how exactly did you manage to dismantle five Death Eaters this morning? Did you trample them using Slytherin cunning and shrewdness, or was there perhaps an undercover agent among their ranks? Or maybe it was a masterfully pre-arranged trap, and you were simply the bait in the jaws? Oh my, I feel as though you have a thousand secrets just waiting for me to unearth them!"
Alan raised a hand to cut her off. Hearing her wild conjectures, he felt a genuine flicker of concern that this imaginative woman might actually stumble upon the truth if left to her own devices.
The primary issue was that Rita wasn't waiting for him to speak; she was indulging in a private fantasy while her quill filled in the gaps with lurid, fabricated details. He finally understood why her reports were so universally loathed; she could manufacture an entire scandal between "hello" and "goodbye."
When Alan interrupted, Rita stared at him with piercing intensity, likely ready to expand any single word he uttered into a bizarre three-page spread. Alan, however, was only interested in efficiency.
He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his robes and tossed it onto the table in front of her. Then, he followed it with a small leather pouch.
"You will report exactly what is written on that parchment. You are not to add a single syllable of your own, nor are you allowed to speculate. Is that clear?" Alan gestured with his chin toward the pouch in her lap. "There are twenty Galleons in there—consider it your fee for being a ghostwriter."
"Mr. Wilson, what is the meaning of this?" Rita was momentarily flustered. She had taken bribes to lean a story one way or another before, but she had never encountered an approach this blunt. For a scoop as massive as Alan's, she was loath to give up her creative license so easily.
"It means exactly what I said." Alan reached into his robes and produced a communication coin. With a sharp flick of his wand, he used Transfiguration to turn the metal into a small beetle—a perfect, shimmering replica of Rita's illegal Animagus form.
He placed the metal insect in her palm and lowered his voice to a freezing temperature. "From now on, I will notify you through this if I have a story. Cooperate with me, and your path to fame will be much smoother. Do we have an understanding?"
A chill raced through Rita Skeeter, stifling the witty retort she had prepared. He knew. The boy knew her biggest, most dangerous secret: that she was an unregistered Animagus.
"This...?" Rita stared at the small beetle in her palm, her voice failing her.
"It's just a small gift. Don't overthink it." Alan stood up and began walking toward the door, glancing back at her over his shoulder. "Why are you still sitting there? Don't we have photos to take?"
"Uh... yes. Right away." Rita understood perfectly. She scrambled to her feet, hastily stowing the gold and the metal beetle in her handbag.
Within minutes of meeting him, the veteran journalist had been led by the nose. It was simple, ruthless, and efficient.
After they finished a set of professional half-body photos, Rita hurried out of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Her hasty exit surprised the Ministry staff; usually, Skeeter would badger anyone she caught until they were socially ruined. Why had she suddenly become so businesslike?
"Alan, why did that woman go quiet all of a sudden? She was just standing there chattering away, slandering the department a moment ago," Vanessa said, leaning over to strike up a conversation.
"Who knows? Maybe she's actually an introvert under all that perfume," Alan replied casually. He quickly pivoted the conversation. "By the way, Vanessa, I didn't get a chance to congratulate you properly. A full Auror! Moody told me your internship performance was the best he's seen in years."
"Did he really say that?" Vanessa's face lit up instantly. "It's mostly because Head Auror Moody is a brilliant mentor. Even so, as a junior, I'm stuck with office work for now. Speaking of which, you really stole the show today. The Minister instructed me to bring you to her office the moment you were free."
"I'm ready when you are," Alan nodded. He paused, as if just remembering something. "Oh, could you do me a quick favor first?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"I have an unregistered deed here. Can you help me convert it into a personal title?" Alan pulled the parchment from his pocket.
Carrying an anonymous deed made him uneasy. If he lost it, anyone could claim the property. He wanted it legally bound to his name immediately; since he had no family to worry about, a personal deed was the safest option.
"Where on earth did you get one of these?" Vanessa asked, taking the parchment with wide eyes. "Unregistered deeds are incredibly rare. Converting a title *to* anonymous is a nightmare, but turning an anonymous one *into* a personal deed is quite simple. That's what makes them so valuable." She scanned the text and gasped. "A property in Diagon Alley? Alan, where did this come from?"
"I found it on the Death Eaters. It's mine now," Alan said firmly. "That doesn't violate any regulations, does it?"
He knew the law: financial assets confiscated from Death Eaters during a struggle—excluding wands or identified personal heirlooms—could be claimed as spoils. This was his way of legalizing the safe house. With Torquil dead and the others incapacitated, there was no one left to dispute his claim.
"No, it's perfectly legal," Vanessa confirmed with a nod. "Since it wasn't a personal deed, it counts as an unclaimed asset. I can help you process the transfer before we see the Minister."
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