Harry Potter: The Witty Wizard

"On that subject I must respectfully disagree," he firmly said back, sitting down at the table again.

"Harry―" she tried.

"No, Monica," he just as firmly replied. "This is my contribution to the efforts you and Wendell have gone to, to let me and my unwanted auror followers into your home. Please don't fight me on this."

Her and Wendell exchanged some micro-expressions between them and she turned back to Harry. "Fine. But I didn't expect you to do any of that when we invited you."

"It's my contribution and, since you weren't expecting it, gift," he replied, more relaxed.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

In Hogwarts, Dumbledore was sitting at the staff table gleefully reading through the article on the front page of the Prophet. Of course, that glee was masked behind a look of concern he was projecting for others to see.

His problem was there was one person at the head table, that morning, who knew that expression was a lie. And, after reading the article herself, wasn't happy.

Leaning to look around Babbling and Sinistra, who were now sitting in their respective Heads of House seats, she used her wand to hit Dumbledore in the side with a very mild localised banishing charm. In effect it was a rude 'poke', used when you wanted someone's attention and weren't being polite about it. She had gotten very good at it when she was still a professor, herself, and a student wasn't paying the attention to her they should have at the time.

When he flicked his head around to stare at her in surprise, quickly morphing into a frown, she crooked a finger at him in the recognisable sign of 'Come here'; which was also considered impolite.

Rising and frowning even more at her behaviour, he approached her behind the chairs. "Really, Griselda," he scolded.

Looking back she simply said, "As soon as you have finished your breakfast, you are to go to my office and wait for me there. And it's Headmistress Marchbanks to you... Al-bie!"

Shocked, Dumbledore was, for a moment, speechless. Finally, he said, "As you wish." Before turning his back on her and returning to his breakfast."

'Albie?' he thought. 'She's never... Potter!'

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

A little over an hour later, Ted was striding up Diagon Alley on his way to the offices of the Daily Prophet organisation. Not even hesitating he walked in and straight up to the reception desk.

"Good morning," he said to the young witch behind the counter-desk. "Please inform Mister Cuffe that Edward Tonks, Law-wizard, is here to see him."

"Mister Cuffe is a busy man. You'll need to make an appointment," she said, as if by rote.

She hadn't even looked at him.

"Inform Mister Cuffe he talks to me, or I go see the Board of Directors and talk to them, instead," he shot back. "They, at least, will not refuse to speak with me."

She finally looked directly at him for the first time, hesitated a moment and said, "Please wait here." Without waiting for Ted to say anything back, she rose from her chair and walked out through a door in the back wall behind her desk.

Five minutes later, she was back. "Please follow me," she said in an almost bored drawl.

Walking behind her through the door, she led him through and almost directly up a flight of stairs. She then turned and walked through a set of cubicles that were obviously for reporters, as some were there. He even recognised some of them.

Finally, she came to an office at the front of the building that obviously overlooked the Alley, knocked thrice and stepped through.

When it appeared she was going to close the door behind herself, he neatly stepped through behind her and to the side.

He was in Cuffe's expansive office. The man was sitting behind his desk trying to look important.

As soon as Tonks saw him he turned to the young witch and said, "Thank you, you can leave." And just stared at her.

The witch stared back for a moment before turning to Cuffe. Though he didn't see it, he knew Cuffe had silently dismissed her, too, as she turned back to him, scowled and walk out. She quietly closed the door behind her.

Turning back to Cuffe, he then noticed Skeeter was also in the room sitting in a chair off to the side. Her Quik-quotes quill primed and ready to go.

He stared at her for half a moment with an Occlumency-flattened expression and quietly snapped, "Get out."

Skeeter looked to Cuffe, who then said, "Now, Ted... I can call you Ted, can't I? Miss Skeeter is―"

After first noticing him as stepped into the office, Ted hadn't turned his attention to Cuffe at all. He continued to stare at Skeeter. Calmly, he drew his wand and held it pointing out and away from his body. It was that movement that suddenly shut Cuffe up.

Still staring at Skeeter, Ted said, "I said... get out."

That was enough for Skeeter. She snatched her lime green quill out of the air and bolted for and out the door. Without the Quik-quotes quill magic holding it in place, the parchment the quill was poised over fluttered to the floor.

Now turning his eyes to Cuffe, Ted reached across and shut the door closed Skeeter had left open in her haste to leave.

He then stood staring at Cuffe for a good ten seconds, waiting for the man to appear to be on the verge of speaking.

As soon as he saw the man draw a breath and begin to open his mouth, he quietly said, "You're an idiot."

"W-what?" spluttered Cuffe.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" he asked. "I said, you're an idiot."

"Now, see here!" spluttered the portly editor.

"You, you idiot, have upset not one, but two Lords of Noble and Most Ancient Houses," said Ted, still using that flattened and soft voice. "You have upset two of the Seven. One of them is also close friends with two of the rest of the Seven. Four of seven makes a majority."

He then remained silent until it looked like Cuffe was going to speak again and again jumped in first. "I've been doing some checking, Barny. Those four, between them, own more than fifty percent of this organisation."

Pulling a set of documents out of an inside robe pocket, Ted looked down at them for a moment and said, "Yes. More than fifty percent."

Cuffe was now pale and shaky.

"I also have here the written authorisation to decide what to do with you," he quietly said. "What do you think I should do with you... Barny?"

Cuffe spluttered and seemed to come up with an idea. "I-I-I... claim freedom of the press!" It was a bad one.

"How lovely," Ted sneered. "I counter it with freedom of the shareholders. That is, the freedom of the shareholders to fire your arse. Got anything else?"

"The information I received was rock solid!" he tried. "I have a responsibility to the people of wizarding Britain to report―"

That Ted immediately barked a short, sneering, mocking laughter shut the man up again.

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