The night was crisp and clear, a myriad of stars twinkling in the moonless sky. Rita Skeeter, however, paid little attention to the tiny, shining baubles above or the fresh, powdery snow below. She was on a mission. Rita had received a tip via a rather fanciful macaw that the very elusive designer known as "Sparkling Sequin" by the wizarding fashion industry might be willing to give her an exclusive interview. Oh, she had vetted the tip thoroughly, of course, suspecting a trap, but even her beetle eyes couldn't spot any sign of trickery or potential danger in the clearing behind the Shrieking Shack where Mx. Sequin wanted to meet.
Stamping her feet a little to get some feeling back in her toes, Rita hoped the designer wouldn't keep her waiting too long. She had pre-booked a booth in the Three Broomsticks in case she could cajole them into doing the interview in the warmth and comfort of the inn. If not, she'd just head there herself afterwards; Rosmerta had promised to keep the place open until she arrived.
Nestled snugly inside of Rita's ever-present handbag, her Quick-Quotes Quill was oblivious to both the weather and Rita's impatience. She'd already pulled out the peacock-feather quill and her primary reporting notebook, so the QQQ (it rather liked the shortened version of its name, having run across it in a catalogue) was free to listen for the whispering voice in a way it hadn't been able to for some time. And right on cue, there it came, drifting along with the lightly falling snow.
Advanced around the corner again, shaking Lakers come on the noise a good of the rocky walls, grizzly magnify so that the inside of Aries call seem to vibrate with a dead. The dragon let out another word sure, then retreated. How are you can see it from that, and as a junior, he saw the skies mean by viciously I guess that it up and talk to vera towards women heard the sound of the Lakers.
"Making process and the door!" Griphook Ridge Terry, return this one to get up on the ground. The odd couple in a bit, pressing his bum to the word, and the door of the vault another way to reveal gave like opening grand from floor to ceiling with gold coins and goblins skins of strange creatures - summers lungs Pines, others with tripping wings - potions in Georgia, it is close to where in the ground.
"Search, fast!" Sidari is the origin side the fault.
Describe devil bus come to Ron and Renee, but if it was the other come on, he did not know what it looked like. He barely had time to glance around come, however, before there was another client from behind them: the door and reappeared, sealing them inside the vault, and they were plunged into total darkness.
"No matter, but read will be able to release us!" Surprise. "Like your ones, can't you? And hurry, we have very little time!"
"Lumos!"
Henry shine his light want to run the vault: it's been Philippa glittering Jules; he's all the Fixin's door light on my shelf amongst jumble of jeans. Ron and Hermione admit there are wants to, I'm now examining the piles of objects surrounding them.
Good area, could this be dash?! And Wood
Hermione scream to me, is one dollar in time to see if you would conflict I'm looking for my group. But as it though, it's becoming a shower of complex, so that a second later, with a Greek letter, the floor was Clifford in identical cups rolling in every direction, the original impossible to discern amongst them.
Go to it burned me!" Amount of money, blister fingers.
What they've had a Jumano in flagrante crispy!" Secret book. "Everything you touch will burn multiply, but the copies of worthless - and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be questioned death by the weight of expanding gold!"
For the first time, the Quick-Quotes Quill gave a vague sigh of relief when Rita, having been stood up by the enigmatic glitter wix of fashion, snapped open her bag and threw her notebook and peacock quill inside in disgust. That bout of dictation had been particularly difficult, and the Quill was left with a vague sense that it had missed something, or quite a few somethings, in the translation.
Meanwhile, Rita Skeeter was still fuming. "I should have known better than to trust a macaw," she muttered furiously as she Transformed her glittering green pumps into more practical snow boots. "They're all flash and no substance. Ah, well, at least Rosmerta will have something lovely and warm waiting for me before I have to Apparate home!"