Read All About It! [GREY]

[Deleted]

With the end of fall approaching, it was time for the more seasoned reporters like Beatrice Holmes to obtain a new intern for a few weeks. Their editor in chief still held the practice of the now owner of the Daily Prophet for all new reporters in training to have a full balanced experience with every line of business within the paper - except Payroll. But that was mostly due to no writer actually wanting to handle that part of the paper, and their veteran Payroll expert Matilda, who was more than capable of handling everything on her own. Bea had never once been paid late or incorrectly, so she was not one to complain. Over the past few weeks, Bea had been working with an intern from Ilvermorny that had been utterly convinced that Quodpot was infinitely better than Quidditch, so she had to say she wasn’t sorry to see the last of him when he announced he definitely didn’t want to report on Quidditch. He was lucky she hadn’t been made editor yet; she would have taken great care to dismantle his pieces line by line until he doubted his credibility as a writer. She wasn’t petty though, not at all.

Today she had been given the name of a new reporter; Grey Slater. The last name sounded vaguely familiar; she was pretty certain his elder sister had been a few years behind her at school, and was one of the top Aurors at the Ministry. If his sister was indeed the Claire Slater who had helped bring down Desirae Rousseau, Beatrice was intensely curious as to what type of reporter Grey wanted to be. She walked into the bunch of cubicles where the interns were located and cleared her throat. “Excuse me? I’m looking for Grey Slater?” she called out, then when he made himself known she jerked her head, signalling for him to follow her. “You’re with me the next two weeks, learning the ins and outs on reporting on Quidditch - the matches, the players, and all the internal details the team chooses to release to the press. You with me so far?” she started to rattle off, briskly walking up the path towards her cubicle, which had space for the intern of the week to sit by her. She sat down in her comfortable office chair and swiveled around to face him, legs crossed at the knee and a curious look on her face. “Tell me about yourself Grey Slater. Why do you want to be a journalist?” she asked him, twirling a pen between her fingers as she waited for his answer.


grey xavier slater

[grey xavier slater]

@beatrice

11.XX.2024

The basics for his internship at the Daily Prophet had been covered over the last few weeks and now it was on to actual reporting. Kind of. Grey was roughly six months behind the rest of the current interns, some of whom had already been give minor beats to work on or were gathering information and compiling rough drafts for the senior journalists. All he had done so far was re-learn how to write an article and the general process of putting a newspaper together. Like he didn’t already know how to do that. Maybe he had been wrong to think that his former title as the school newspaper’s Editor-In-Chief would mean something. The only thing it did was that he held a position of power that nobody else in the club had wanted. He didn’t seen anything inherently wrong with that, but apparently it detracted from his writing skills because he was more focused on producing quality pieces for the other students to read. Calling them quality was being nice, because they were still written by amateurs. Being an intern was only half a step above that.

The interns were given a small space of cubicles to conduct whatever menial tasks their supervisors pawned off to them, and that was where Grey found himself most of the time throughout the day. There was actually a distinct lack of things to do, which seemed odd with people running every which way with new stories to break. In his opinion, most of those stories weren’t that great, but the paper had to put something out daily. He had been working on transcribing another intern’s interview when a woman approached and asked for him by name. Grey raised his hand and stood up. What was this, class all over again? He couldn’t even get a word in before she was motioning to walk and talk, and he was fast on her heels, jumping over a few of the other interns and their belongings in the process.

As they walked towards what he assumed was her cubicle, she explained that he was going to be assisting her over the next two weeks on the Quidditch reports. Easy enough. That had been his job at school too, among other things. While he never had the interest to play, knowing everything about the players, their injuries, how they fared against players on the opposing team - all of that was stuff he had done before. “Got it,” he answered as they took a seat, his eyes wandering over to the name placard, Beatrice Holmes. A face to the name, finally. He had been reading her pieces for years without knowing what she actually looked like or how she was in person. It was strange to have that magic ruined the first few times.

She continued on, posing a question about why he was there. Excellent. He hated that question more than anything else because there wasn’t a correct answer. He was better off turning to a safe response, like how it was good to inform the public about certain stories, or even providing them with basic information to help them in their daily lives. Personally he didn’t believe in any of that because journalism came naturally to him. “Couldn’t say,” he answered honestly. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” he continued, trying to back track a bit. “I do like writing articles and conducting interviews. If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t have put all my time into the Hogwarts paper when I was there. I think it’s mostly because there’s a payoff to being a journalist in the end. We go out, find stories, research them, write them, and then show them off to the world as objective as possible. All I want is for a reader to look at a piece and find it interesting enough to want to know more.”

[Deleted]

Beatrice sat back in her chair, pen twirling in between her fingers as she eyed him speculatively. Finally, an intern who didn’t try to tailor their answers to please her. She was so sick of the brown-nosing interns who really had no idea what they were doing, but were too terrified to admit it. At least Grey, whom she had noted had not started at the Prophet until recently, had the balls to do so. “I appreciate the candor and the honesty,” she said finally, sitting back up and shuffling through a pile of papers. “I need someone to complete the Arrow profiles on their new players; Daniel Hoh, James Potter, and of course Edrik Krum. With their season blowing up the way it has, in the best way possible of course, the editor changed his mind on wanting just one article on the newbies - he wants one PER article now. He allowed me to grab an intern to help, so I decided on you.” She left the questionnaires the boys had filled out near Grey’s grasp. “Let’s see what you can make of it.” She stood up and smoothed down her skirt; that had been fun, assigning an intern that appeared to be more competent one of the assignments she had not so secretly been putting off a bit. It wasn’t as if she didn’t WANT to do the profiles, they were just so...mundane after the excitement of the season.

Beatrice walked off to the break room to make a cup of coffee, smirking a little at the thought of what had happened the last time she was in here by herself. Shaking her head slightly, she walked back towards her desk. “Any questions so far?” she asked, sitting down and noticing a new folded parchment on her desk. She plucked it up, read the memo, and swore colorfully. “Well one of the Chasers has caught himself up in a family squabble, and has ended up at Saint Mungos.” She swore again; they were so close to a perfect season too! “Looks like we’ll be heading over to the training grounds shortly, I have to get a statement from Coach Gamp.” She began to put on her wool peacoat and scarf. “Well? We can’t wait around all day; news doesn’t sleep,” she asked him briskly.

grey xavier slater

[grey xavier slater]

@beatrice

11.XX.2024

Grey was taken aback slightly by Beatrice’s response – people weren’t honest about their abilities as journalists? Any that he had underneath him in the school paper were semi-decent, though they typically only joined the club because they thought it was a fun thing to do in between classes. That and it allowed them to snoop around and listen in on other students’ conversation to try and find interesting leads. He didn’t like that part of the job, only because the competitor, the gossip witch, tended to beat him to the punch. Obviously he disliked stooping to their level. Unfortunately, sometimes it was a necessity to keep the thing afloat for another term.

Beatrice didn’t hesitate jumping in to what his assignment was going to be. Or assisting on, rather. Because it sounded like they were about to have quite the work load ahead of them. Grey plucked the folded up pamphlets off of the reporter’s desk after she pushed them towards her, only popping them open once she started to leave the room. Was he meant to read through these and write an article just from that? The first couple of them certainly had a fair amount of information in them but they were far from being enough. He had done similar profile articles on the Triwizard Tournament champions the prior year, though they hadn’t been read by thousands of people like these ones would be.

Skimming through each one briefly was enough time for Beatrice to return with a cup of coffee for herself. He only glanced up long enough to see that before returning his gaze at the questions in his hands. Was that some sort of test? Get him to ask for his own? He would have never thought that way, but the drills the Aurors had put him through made him second guess everything. Ulterior motives and all that. Personally, he hated having to think that way. But it didn’t last long, because Beatrice announced that they were leaving to get a statement from the Arrow coach, because one of the players was hurt. She was on her feet again, her coat around her shoulders and starting to leave the office again. “Right,” he muttered, showing the questionnaires into his pocket and then following behind her. “These feel like they’re missing a lot, so I want to talk to some of the players if I can snag them while you’re getting your statement,” he explained. And maybe get some more of whatever this story was. Surely they would have their own input as well.

[Deleted]

Beatrice glanced over at him as he mentioned the pamphlets she had given him were missing a lot, and after a moment’s pause she nodded approvingly. “Good, these are just the basic questionnaires we give all the new players at the beginning of the season, so they typically give rather vague answers. Obviously our readers want more than just the basics, so it’s your job to get that from them,” she told him. She offered her arm to him so they could use Side-Along Apparition to get to the stadium.

The rushing feeling in her stomach was something Beatrice would never get used to. She was a Muggleborn, and before she’d found out she was a witch she had been very used to taking public transportation everywhere. Of course, this shortened a four hour train ride to mere seconds, but it still was immensely unpleasant. “Ugh,” she grumbled aloud, straightening out her coat before striding towards the looming stadium. “They’ll be at practice now, so you won’t be able to grab the players until they’re done. I recommend watching the practice and take notes about them; their style of play, how they interact with their teammates, and their flying style.” Beatrice paused, allowing Grey to take it all in. “Did you play when you were at Hogwarts?” she asked curiously. He could have passed for a Quidditch player; she knew from his internship application he had been in Auror training at first, so it was entirely possible.

grey xavier slater

[grey xavier slater]

@beatrice

11.XX.2024

Test: passed. Unless it wasn’t actually a test and she was simply trying to keep him on his toes about the assignments being handed over. Grey knew he had to get out of the mindset that everything was for a higher purpose but after six months of having it beaten into his head it was starting to look impossible. He understood how his sister looked and acted like she had drank the Kool-Aid that the Ministry provided her. Substituting his uneasiness and paranoia about what his superiors wanted him to do for actual hard work and successful writing was all he could do now, and so far it looked like he was being given a free pass to do just that. “Understood,” he nodded before taking her arm to be disapparated to the stadium they were to go to.

Popping up right outside the stadium, Grey took a few uneasy steps forward, trying to gather himself after the jump. They had done significant apparition training, to the point where he considered himself rather decent at it, but side-along still got to him. Apparently it did to Beatrice too, because she made some sort of guttural noise as they touched solid ground. Grey kept his mouth shut though, positive that he wasn’t at that level of coworker yet to make a joke about it. They were here strictly to do their job, which Beatrice explained to him as they walked. “Didn’t play, but I did the Quidditch beat for three years, so that shouldn’t be too difficult for me,” he said confidently. If there had actually been a dedicated reporter at the time, he wouldn’t have bothered, but there wasn’t and Quidditch was the only consistent piece of information that he had to put in. “Do they have a spot for media after practices, or is going out onto the pitch after they finish allowed?” Grey asked as he started walking backwards towards the stands.

[Deleted]

Beatrice glanced over at Grey as they made their way into the stadium and allowed a small sympathetic smile. “Twelve years I’ve had my Apparition license and still sometimes I find myself on unsteady feet,” she told him. They pressed on, and Beatrice appreciated his honesty about not playing Quidditch. “I didn’t either; was complete rubbish on a broomstick. Didn’t dull my obsession for the sport, and I did enjoy keeping my feet on solid ground for the most part,” she told him. They entered the large pitch and saw sky-blue clad players darting around in the air. “There is, but since I’ve worked with this team for so long I’ve just waited down here for them to finish up,” she admitted.

Beatrice conjured up two camp chairs and sat down in one of them, gesturing for Grey to take the other. “They’ll finish in about ten minutes,” she said, checking her watch for the time. She looked up at the players, hand shading her eyes from the sunlight as she watched them in silence. “So...Auror training wasn’t what it was cracked up to be?” she asked finally, not looking over at him. She was curious, as was her nature, but wanted to let him tell his own story if he wanted to.

grey xavier slater

[grey xavier slater]

@beatrice

11.XX.2024

It was pretty obvious that side-along apparition was never going to be normalized, based on what the journalist was telling him. Grey didn’t like the idea of being perpetually dizzy or nauseous every time he wanted to tag along or take someone to a place they had never been. He would almost rather take a portkey or floo powder at that point, only to prove a point to the unseen magic gods that they needed to get their shit together and make side-along less horrible. That or someone needed to create a potion or pill that balanced equilibrium after jumping, a sort of seasickness medicine for apparition.

“If everyone could play Quidditch, then there wouldn’t be any entertainment value in it. It would be like those muggles that speed-walk in the Olympics. Nobody watches that because they enjoy it,” he added, trying to give his own thoughts on the topic. They also wouldn’t have their jobs because there wouldn’t be anything of interest to report on other than scores. The Harpies’ seeker taking a nose dive until she was inches from the ground wouldn’t bring the thrill seekers out for the team’s next match, for example. Not knowing or expecting what could happen was why Grey enjoyed the sport, and while he knew a lot about it, there was always something new the pros would pull off. Giving everyone the same chance to do that would ruin the sport for sure.

He nodded his head as she explained that they would wait until the team was done and then head down to the field. Grey realized he was sort of lucky to be attached to Beatrice for this, because that meant that he could start working on his own relationships with the clubs before he even had a real position with the newspaper. While at Hogwarts, only the captains and a few of the more driven players ever wanted to talk to him about their teams. Everyone else was just in it to win it and focused on the match ahead of them. An admirable trait to have when it came down to it, but he still needed content for his pieces.

Taking a seat in the conjured chair, Grey chuckled at Beatrice’s question. “Not exactly. When you’re in it for the wrong reasons, it’s hard to the motivation that they want out of you,” Grey stated as he watched the team start what he assumed were their cooldown drills. Realizing that he probably needed to explain what he meant in more detail, he continued, “Parents wanted me to go through with it. Follow in my sister’s footsteps. The usual family drama ensued.” He pulled his notepad and pen out and scribbled on it a few times to make sure the pen was ready for once they went down to the pitch. Even though he seemed to think that all of the journalists at the Prophet took him seriously, the little things, like getting prepped beforehand, still felt necessary. “The actual training wasn’t terribly difficult, but I’m better suited for this. I’d rather put my loyalty into informing the people rather than dying for them.”

[Deleted]

Beatrice was impressed Grey was knowledgeable about the Olympics. “My dad and I would sometimes go to the London training campus for the Olympians; he’s the longtime commentator for Arsenal football, so he has a lot of leeway with where he’s allowed in,” she told him with a laugh. “He would take me to the different areas and tell me ‘Bea, these men and women have been training their entire lives for less than five minutes of fame for the most part. They don’t partake in these sports just because they’re good at it, it’s because they’re passionate. They live and breathe the sport. Any athlete who says otherwise is no true athlete at all.’” As the words came out of Beatrice’s mouth, she could almost hear her father speaking through her.

“My parents were Muggles, both of them. My brother too; I’m the only magical one in my immediate family,” Beatrice explained, watching as the Arrows flew together for a final huddle. “I could have done anything I wanted to and they would have supported me. They may not have necessarily liked it if I had gone for Cursebreaking or...I don’t know, dragon keeping, something super dangerous. But the older I got, the more I developed my passion for reporting. I had become fond of Quidditch at a young age, but I was rubbish at it. So I watched, and learned, until I applied to be a sports reporter for the student paper you were Editor in Chief of. I suppose in a way I really am my fathers’ daughter,” she told him with a chuckle. She stood up as she noticed the new coach of the Arrows heading their way. “Why don’t you start off with the questions for him; he’s new to the team, you’re new to the Prophet, perfect way to get yourself situated,” she suggested.

grey xavier slater

[grey xavier slater]

@beatrice

11.XX.2024

Beatrice’s brief monologue about professional athletes made sense, though Grey could see this applying to almost any profession out there. If someone was in it for the wrong reason, it was pretty obvious. As with sports, there would always be the egotistical players and coaches and fans that thought they knew more than they actually did. The only true experts in the game were the people that lived and breathed it daily. The teams, their staff, and the media reporters that huddled around them grasping for a word or two after practices and before matches. “That’s a great way to put it…I don’t think I could word it that way even after devoting myself for years to Quidditch.”

She went on to explain her family life growing up, and how she stuck to reporting Quidditch. It seemed like a natural path for her even if it was a different sport played by a completely different type of people. At the end of the day, football and Quidditch were different sides of the same coin and the media frenzy surrounding both was similar in essence. On the other hand, the wizarding world only had one sport (that was important), so he supposed it was kind of different when you really broke it down. “I hear everything is a lot easier when you have a good support system,” he said, shrugging. “But sometimes the negative influences help push you in the right direction too. I like to think they did for me.” Or so far they had. He was still in the early stages of his internship, and while all the stars were aligning for him, there was no telling what could happen going forward. That was impossible. Six months earlier he thought he was going to be an Auror, and now look where he was. About to go interview the head coach of the Appleby Arrows! “Easy enough,” Grey said as he drew in a deep inhale. “Meet back here after?”

[you can end or we can jump to after?]

[Deleted]

Beatrice nodded at his assessment. “That’s fair. I certainly thrive on negative nay-sayers,” she told him, thinking of Elliot in particular. Though, Elliot wasn’t exactly negative about her writing, he just knew how to push all the wrong buttons when it came to her. That typically came before a heated ...unclothed session in the breakroom, but Grey certainly didn’t need to know about that bit of her life. “He’s just a regular guy, probably more nervous than you,” she told him, trying to sound encouraging. He left his spot to head towards the coach, while Beatrice headed towards some of the players, who crowed and called her by name as she walked closer. Her smile grew wider; now this was where she was at her prime.

About an hour later, Beatrice regrouped with Grey and took a look at his notes. “Looks good, I expect a small piece on him by the end of the day tomorrow, my desk,” she told him with an approving nod. She checked her watch. “Let’s get back to the office, it’s my dads’ birthday tonight so I can’t be late,” she told him, taking him by the shoulder and Apparating them back to the Prophet office. She bade him farewell and headed off to join her family in celebration.


end