"Oh, ho, ho, I think we've hit paydirt," Rita Skeeter said, smirking, as she waited in what appeared to be an extremely long line of Muggles in front of an exhibit entitled "Hyperspace Mountain" at a Muggle amusement park just outside of Paris. "This can't possibly be Muggle made."
The Quick-Quotes Quill in Rita's bejeweled right hand forced itself to pay attention; it did enjoy its day job, after all. Usually.
Throughout the day, waiting in line after line for ride after ride, the Quill dutifully turned Rita's rambling into sparkling gems of literary accomplishment. It chronologized origins, artfully disguised magic, and quaint Muggle contraptions.
"There. I think we have enough evidence now," Rita finally said, dropping the notebook in to her handbag and stuffing the quill in alongside the spare ink pot. "The Ministry is definitely dabbling in Dark Arts right in front of Muggle noses. Take this Mountain, for instance. Only finely placed curses could account for those swooping effects."
The Quill had its doubts about that; but there was no time nor way to argue.
It wasn't until later that evening, while Rita was attending some sort of entertainment at the park, that the quiet voice appeared. The scene it relayed seemed to mock the Quill's terror of the afternoon.
"What are you making up to? ""Ooh. Look at this!"
"Hide, it's quite a scenario as he put it is one that my brother, who is on the seminal little cardigan journaling on the tracks towards them out of the darkness. Harry was very good here shouting behind in the main hall as they are clamping into it, but right in front of a scrapbook, Mary, ron, and Hermione Graham together in the back.
With a jerk off, gathering speed: they are down past drivers, it was wiggling into a crack in the wall, and begin twisting it celebrity passages, let me download all the time. Are you not here the rattling on the card on Jack's is it flew behind him is this word between stalactites come flying every day print of the earth, but he kept glancing back. They might as well have left enormous footprints behind the gun; I thought about it, and I have discussed am I need to spellcheck's, just brought along village access want to come don't want to -
Area never been a tradition with him going good; I took care of intended to be a dance up ahead of them, I have a pounding over the track. Area great bookshelf, "no!" But there was no breaking: they sent through it. What are field areas of Eisenhower you could not see your breath: come up with an off alert, the cart flipped over and they were all thrown out of it. Are you at the guard smashing to pieces against passage welcome her to remind you speak something, and filled him self contact with the ground as the waitlist, painlessly on the Rocky passage for.
A flood of light and noise pierced through the bag as Rita opened the clasp and fished around for her pad and quill. Some sort of parade with illuminated floats and random fireworks appeared to be occurring.
"Something this spectacular has to be a Weasley invention. I just knew they were at the heart of this. Such a tragic tale of loss and redemption. The readers will love it. I think I will write it up as a tribute to George. Or Fred. Bother. I can never remember which one died. No matter, it will spin beautifully either way!"