FIC: Who's That Girl?
Title: Who's That Girl?
Prompt: Ginny as a Quidditch reporter.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 3332
Summary: There's a mystery afoot in the Quidditch World.
Notes: Written for the Summer Fest at hg_silverlining. Thanks to my betas lunalovepotter, serendipity_50 and queenb23more. Please, dear readers, don't be too hard on me for the articles; I haven't written journalistically for several years, although serendipity_50 assured me they were fine.
Who's That Girl?
Ron smiled as he finished reading the article. This reporter, this Bonnie Wright, laid it on the line every time she wrote about the hallowed game of Quidditch. She knew what he was thinking and wasn’t afraid of what people would say. And this last article was perhaps her best yet. There was something familiar about her voice, the style of her writing. Hermione would say that was one of the marks of a good writer, to make the reader hear their voice inside the mind.
“Perfection,” Ron said softly as he absently trailed a finger down the page. “Exquisite.”
“You better not let Hermione hear you talk that way about Rita Skeeter, mate.”
Ron jumped and looked up at the source of the interruption: Harry.
“Funny, real funny.”
Harry chuckled, pushed himself away from the doorway of the joke shop, and strolled over to the counter.
“What’s got you all excited?” Harry looked down at the newspaper and shook his head.
“You’re reading?”
“Not just reading, but basking in the perfection of this article.”
“Merlin, Hermione’s rubbed off on you,” Harry said as he rolled his eyes. “What is it, anyway?”
Ron pointed at the article in the sports section. “Bonnie Wright. If I wasn’t married and knew who she was, I’d marry her.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, her,” he said less than enthusiastically.
“Come on, Harry, you’ve got to admit that she’s got a way with words and her opinions.”
“I know. I like her, too, but she’s not…like…worthy of worship.”
“Have you read her latest? It’s magnificent!” Ron turned the newspaper around so that
Harry could read. “When you’re done, tell me you don’t think that she’s the best Quidditch writer of our time.”
Puddlemere Dumps Wood: Proves Idiocy of Quidditch Ownership
By Bonnie Wright
PUDDLEMERE--In a surprise move, the one-time Keeper and current player-manager of Puddlemere United, Oliver Wood, was fired by the ownership of the popular Quidditch team. The official word, released in typical press-release fashion, stated only that Wood received a generous compensation package and left under good terms. The statement also introduced Quidditch fans to the new manager, the temperamental Tempest Storm.
What does this mean for the team? In this reporter’s opinion, they chose (no) style over substance.
Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Keeper for six years and captain for four years, was famous for his motivating speeches and single-mindedness about the aerial sport.
“Oliver was completely focused on Quidditch during school,” said a former Hogwarts teammate of Woods. “He worked out training schedules and plays during his summer hols, for Merlin’s sake!”
Once Wood left Hogwarts, he was snatched up by United,with the largest pre-war signing bonus in history and became the rising star of the league. His statistics were mind-blowing as he allowed a record low forty-seven goals during his second season, earning him Player of the Year honours. Had it not been for the war and suspension of league and international play, he was sure to have been a lock for the World Cup in his first year of eligibility.
With the retirement of Franklin Burleson at the end of the 2005 season, Wood naturally made the move to player-manager, using the same strengths that made him successful during his school days.
“He could motivate a Flobberworm,” stated Angelina Johnson-Weasley, Gryffindor and World Cup teammate, in a recent interview.
Unfortunately, recent matches and players of marginal quality led to the conclusion of Wood’s tenure. Young players with entitlement issues, broom envy, and more swagger than talent were drafted in recent years, leaving Wood little to work with. Even with one of the league’s best motivators and leaders at the helm, Puddlemere fell to the cellar of the standings, a mere single rung above proverbial bottom dwellers, the Chudley Cannons.
Looking forward, Quidditch fans need to expect more from their favourite players than endorsing brooms, charging for autographs, and hiding away in villas in Timbuktu. Fans pay the salaries, line the pockets of the owners, and deserve to have a quality product put before them. The players need to PLAY Quidditch the way it was meant to be, with heart and every fibre of their being. They need to remember what it was like that first match they played at Hogwarts, when the adrenaline overtook them and they nearly fell off their brooms in excitement. Owners, of whom this writer has never been a fan, need to realise that while kids straight out of Hogwarts are technically adults, most of them have never lived on their own or had to decide anything more important than what classes to take or whom to snog in the Astronomy Tower. Handing these players ridiculous amounts of money and sending them straight onto the starting rosters without first proving themselves is perhaps the worst way to build a solid franchise and maintain the level of play that is part of the history of our national pastime.
Oliver Wood, this writer thanks you for trying to groom players, from wet-behind-the-ears second years to veteran players with sore muscles and persistent injuries. You played Quidditch with determination and desire lacking in many of your contemporaries. If this writer has her wish, your unemployment will be short.
Hey, isn’t Madam Hooch retiring? I’d be more than thrilled to have you tutor my children on their brooms.
“See what I mean, Harry? She calls it like she sees it.” Ron beamed.
“Yeah, it is a good article,” Harry agreed with a smile and warm cheeks. “She sounds...familiar.”
“Exactly!” Ron exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “Some of the things she said, I swear I’ve heard before.”
Harry was about to answer when the door of the shop opened with a ring of the bell. “I...I better let you get back to work then,” Harry said, patting Ron on the shoulder and leaving Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes with a swell of pride in his chest.
---------------------------------------------------
“I can’t believe it! They think I’m that writer!” Angelina slapped the most recent issue of Quidditch Weekly onto the kitchen table. “Why would I write an article about myself?” She slumped into an empty chair and looked at her sister-in-law.
“If it makes you feel any better, they thought it was me, too,” Ginny remarked as she dunked a biscuit into her cup of tea. “And Cho, too, if you recall. I think Gwenog even made the cut.”
Angelina rolled her eyes. “You and Cho, I can picture. But me? Gwenog? Gwenog is about as butch as a woman can get without having a penis. And everyone knows that my essays at school were about as interesting as Binns’ lectures. No one would pay to read what I write.” She poured herself a cup of tea and added sugar. “Aren't you upset about this?”
Ginny pushed her hair out of her eyes and shook her head. “It’s a little flattering, but other than that, it’s a nice distraction from hearing about how I ‘gave up’ my career.”
“They were so mean to you. No one blinks when a man retires early, but if a woman wants to stop playing Quidditch...Fucking imbeciles!” Angelina slapped the tabletop.
“You're sellin' dragon eggs to Hagrid, Angie,” Ginny answered with a laugh. “Kind of makes me long for the days when they said I was after Harry for his money.”
Angelina nearly spat tea out of her nose. “You mean you weren’t?” she asked mockingly.
“Sex, my friend. It was all about the sex,” Ginny answered.
“Harry, my sister said ‘sex.’ Did you knock her up again?” George’s voice came from the doorway. The women turned to find their husbands soaked to the skin and mud splattering their shirts.
“What the hell exploded out there, George?” Angelina asked with much exasperation.
“Kids are dangerous on brooms these days. Have no respect,” George muttered.
Harry laughed. “James and Fred are sure to be Beaters. Knocked both of us to the ground.”
“Are you hurt?” Ginny asked, rising from her seat to check on Harry, who shook his head.
“I’m fine, really. Nothing worse than what I get at work.”
“You’ve had a lot happen to you at work,” Ginny reminded him. “Want some tea?”
“You sound more like Mum each day. Tea solves everything, does it?” George teased.
“Maybe it will solve the Bonnie Wright Mystery.” Angelina held out the magazine. “They think it’s me.”
“Have they actually read anything you’ve written?” George said with a snort, earning him a look of amusement mixed with annoyance from his wife. “What’d they say about our dear Bonnie?” He reached for the magazine and leafed through it until he found the article in question.
Mystery Daily Prophet Quidditch Columnist "Bonnie Wright”
Grabs Headlines of Her Own
Not since The Quibbler’s exclusive of Harry Potter has a reporter been the subject of so many conversations and letters to the editor. The new Quidditch columnist has sparked both admiration and scorn for her outspoken opinions and obvious love of the game.
While the brass at the Prophet have been silent about the true identity of the reporter we all know as Bonnie Wright, which is a bit of a word-play on the name of Golden Snitch inventor Bowman Wright, there has been no lack of speculation on the part of the Quidditch-loving public.
“It’s obviously a current player. No one else would keep their identity a secret,” claimed reader Saxton Belle.
“I think it’s someone who was passed over by teams who disregarded their skill on a broom,” stated Westminster resident Zacharias Smith.
Reader Harvey Wallbanger believes that Bonnie “is a sexy gal that needs a little more to do than listen to the wireless, if you know what I mean.”
According to Melody Song of Chelsea, “The reporter is most likely a former female player with strong opinions and a temper.”
Unfortunately for Melody, her opinion is the least popular among readers of Quidditch Weekly. Most of our readers are of the opinion that the writer is one of five people, with whom we here at QW have a close, personal relationship.
The Usual Suspects
#5. Cho Chang-This former member of the Appleby Arrows has the intellectual background of a Hogwarts’ Ravenclaw along with the necessary knowledge of the game. Chang has been known to whinge about the state of things, which would fit part of our dear Bonne's MO.
#4. Gwenog Jones-This long-time Holyhead Harpy adores the spotlight, as evidenced by her antics on and off the broom. Her knowledge of the game would be crucial to the quality of the columns. However, on the negative side, Jones has no children, as the reporter has admitted to in several articles.
#3. Ginny Potter-Our fiery redheaded friend possesses the skills and the temper to write the column. While the former Harpy appears to be somewhat of a shoo-in, her lack of appearances at featured matches makes it unlikely that she has a secret occupation. She made it clear upon her retirement that Quidditch was no longer the focus of her life.
#2. Minerva McGonagall-Yes, we know, she’s nearly as ancient as Hogwarts itself, but the former professor and headmistress has long been known to be a rabid Quidditch fan. She is undoubtedly intelligent with an extreme passion for the game. The references to children most likely are to those children roaming the hallowed halls.
#1. Angelina Johnson-Weasley-Our number-one choice is the outspoken Chaser who made her mark playing for both England and Montrose. She is also an outspoken feminist with enough gall to share her opinions with anyone who would listen. Angie was featured in enough articles during her playing days in which she questioned ownership, called out gender-bias in pay schedules, and lobbied for job guarantees for returning players after having children.
Word from the Prophet
While our opinions lean heavily toward Angelina, they really don’t mean much unless confirmed by the Prophet’s Sports Editor, Johann Deportes. Inside sources state that the articles are delivered via Muggle post without a return address on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays to be printed in the following day’s issue. Each article is then sent to the copy desk, to be checked by Marva Scribe.
“I’ve no comment on who Bonnie Wright is and even if I did know, I wouldn’t be able to say anything for risk of losing my job. I...think.”
Marva’s reaction leads us to believe that there is a Fidelius charm or some such bit of magic in place. This only lends to the air of mystery and the desire to uncover the identity of the writer as well as the magic used to ensure secrecy. It is fruitless, at this point, to investigate further into this whodunit.
But we can have fun trying, can’t we?
“Why didn’t you tell me, dear?” George asked with a laugh. “And here I thought we were just scraping by while you’re making money in secret.” He leaned over and kissed the top of his wife’s head.
“Ha, ha,” Angelina said. “You know it’s not me. I still think it’s Ginny.”
Ginny coughed and took a deep breath. “Nope, not me.”
“She coughed! She’s lying!” George said with glee.
“No, I’m not!” Ginny shot back, her eyes narrowing in anger.
“C’mon, George, leave it alone. Does it really matter?” Harry asked, pulling Ginny next to him. “It’s time to go, Gin. Remember Lily has that play date.”
Ginny paused for a moment. “Oh, hell, that’s right!” She hit herself on the forehead. “Well, let’s go round up the little beasts. Thanks for dinner, Angie.” She embraced Angelina, said goodbye to George, and then stepped outside with Harry, her hand tightly clutching his.
----------------------------------------------
Ginny stepped into Quality Quidditch Supplies trailed by Albus and Lily, who were bickering over who got more Every Flavour Beans in their package. Lily stopped abruptly and pulled on her mother's sleeve.
"Mummy, can I get a new pygmy puff?" Lily asked as she bounced up and down on her toes.
Ginny knelt on a knee and shook her head. "Honey, we already have a hamster, a cat, an owl, and a toad. Why do you need a pygmy puff?"
"But mumm-eee," Lily whinged, "Oreo is Teddy's, Blue is yours, Soc...Socktees is Daddy's and Twevor is Jamie's. I don't have a pet." Lily blinked her big brown eyes purposefully.
"Sweetheart, Albus doesn't have a pet, either."
"Pwease, Mummy! I saw all your pictures of Awnold and he was SO cute!" Lily pleaded.
Ginny was almost ready to give into her youngest when Albus nearly knocked her over.
"Mum! Mum! Mum!"
Ginny smiled. "What? What? What?"
Both kids giggled; it was a little game they played with each other.
"You're famous! Why didn't you tell us?" Al grabbed his sister by the hand and pulled her away while Ginny rose to her feet and slowly followed her children. Gathered around what looked like a large bulletin board was a mob of people.
"There, see!" Albus said, pointing at the notice on the board. Ginny pushed her way through the crowd and came face to face with a large picture of herself from her days playing with the Harpies.
"Oh bloody hell!" At the sound of her voice, the crowd quieted and turned toward her. This felt eerily similar to the reception Harry often received following the war. Never before had she wished to have the Invisibility Cloak within her grasp. The swell of people then began shouting at her, crowding her. Someone stepped on her foot.
"Mummy!" Lily shrieked from beside her.
"STOP!" came a loud, deep voice from the doorway of the shop, earning the desired effect as the crowd immediately quieted. There, standing in his black Auror robes, was none other than Harry Potter, head of the Auror department, and most importantly, husband of the woman in the centre of the mob and father of the children nearly trampled.
"Is that Daddy?" Lily shouted as she jumped up and down excitedly.
The crowd parted and Ginny grabbed the kids' hands and made her way towards Harry, who was holding his wand aloft to hold back the crowd. The family quickly made their way out the door and into Diagon Alley.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked as he pulled Ginny into him for a hug and then bent down to examine the kids. "Where's Jamie?"
"He's with Angie. What the hell is going on in there?" Ginny asked as she gestured toward the shop.
"Mummy, you swore! That's a Knut in the jar!" said Albus in a sing-song voice.
"Not now, Al," Ginny said with irritation. "What's going on?"
"This has everything to do with it." Harry handed her a copy of Quidditch Weekly.
"Again? What happened now?"
"Let's get the kids home. You can read it there." Harry picked up Lily while Ginny took Al's hand. The foursome Disapparated and reappeared in their sitting room.
"Can you two go play in the garden? Please?" Ginny asked the two children.
Lily grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him toward the kitchen door. With the little ones outside, Ginny pulled the magazine out of her bag.
"Page five."
Bonnie Wright Revealed!!
For the past six months, Quidditch fans around the UK have been debating over the identity of the Daily Prophet's outspoken, witty, snarky, yet amazing columnist, Bonnie Wright. Her articles have inspired debate, and increased interest in our beloved sport. And now, with some authority, we at Quidditch Weekly can reveal the real-life persona behind the mystique. Under unique circumstances, freelance QW writer Nefaria Means gleaned this information after a three-hour long conversation with sports editor Johann Deportes, along with a bit of "unconventional" magic.
"I am pleased to say that I now know, with 99.9% certainty that the reporter known as Bonnie Wright is none other than Ginny Weasley Potter."
Nefaria, known for her investigative methods that rival those of the Auror division, used logic and a little known secret about one of Ms. Potter's sisters-in-law and a rebel group called Dumbledore's Army. It should be pointed out that Mr. Deportes will be seen sporting a full beard and moustache for near future.
Underneath the short article was a picture of Ginny in her Harpies kit from her playing days along with another of her holding the World Cup trophy.
For a moment, Ginny stood there, a million emotions building up inside her: rage, relief, frustration, amusement and even betrayal. When she and Harry decided to use the Snitch Surprise Charm, they were confident that both Johann and Marva would cooperate; they were informed about what would happen should the confidentiality contract be broken. Unfortunately for Johann, he will bear the label 'SCORE' for some time.
"I thought I could trust him," Ginny said silently as she sat down on the extra-large chair, where Harry joined her and pulled her close.
"Obviously, Nefaria's the one you can't trust. She had to do something pretty nasty to make him tell. What do we do now?" he asked and kissed her on top of her head.
"I thought you were going to tell me that."
He chuckled and lifted her onto his lap. "You should handle this, Gin. It's all about you. I can't make that decision for you."
Ginny sat in silence for a moment while Harry idly stroked her arm. Several ideas ran through her head.
"Would you be okay if I kept doing it? As me?"
"Doesn't matter what I think," he reiterated. "It's up to you. Same thing as when you decided to play Quidditch and when you decided to stop. I'll be here for you no matter what."
She always knew that Harry was unconditionally supportive of her, as he had shown through the years while she negotiated through her roles as girlfriend, Quidditch player, wife, mother, and reporter. He was perhaps the greatest constant in her life, no matter what she was doing.
"I think I'll just be me."
"That's all I've ever wanted."
Prompt: Ginny as a Quidditch reporter.
Rating: PG13
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 3332
Summary: There's a mystery afoot in the Quidditch World.
Notes: Written for the Summer Fest at hg_silverlining. Thanks to my betas lunalovepotter, serendipity_50 and queenb23more. Please, dear readers, don't be too hard on me for the articles; I haven't written journalistically for several years, although serendipity_50 assured me they were fine.
Who's That Girl?
Ron smiled as he finished reading the article. This reporter, this Bonnie Wright, laid it on the line every time she wrote about the hallowed game of Quidditch. She knew what he was thinking and wasn’t afraid of what people would say. And this last article was perhaps her best yet. There was something familiar about her voice, the style of her writing. Hermione would say that was one of the marks of a good writer, to make the reader hear their voice inside the mind.
“Perfection,” Ron said softly as he absently trailed a finger down the page. “Exquisite.”
“You better not let Hermione hear you talk that way about Rita Skeeter, mate.”
Ron jumped and looked up at the source of the interruption: Harry.
“Funny, real funny.”
Harry chuckled, pushed himself away from the doorway of the joke shop, and strolled over to the counter.
“What’s got you all excited?” Harry looked down at the newspaper and shook his head.
“You’re reading?”
“Not just reading, but basking in the perfection of this article.”
“Merlin, Hermione’s rubbed off on you,” Harry said as he rolled his eyes. “What is it, anyway?”
Ron pointed at the article in the sports section. “Bonnie Wright. If I wasn’t married and knew who she was, I’d marry her.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, her,” he said less than enthusiastically.
“Come on, Harry, you’ve got to admit that she’s got a way with words and her opinions.”
“I know. I like her, too, but she’s not…like…worthy of worship.”
“Have you read her latest? It’s magnificent!” Ron turned the newspaper around so that
Harry could read. “When you’re done, tell me you don’t think that she’s the best Quidditch writer of our time.”
Puddlemere Dumps Wood: Proves Idiocy of Quidditch Ownership
By Bonnie Wright
PUDDLEMERE--In a surprise move, the one-time Keeper and current player-manager of Puddlemere United, Oliver Wood, was fired by the ownership of the popular Quidditch team. The official word, released in typical press-release fashion, stated only that Wood received a generous compensation package and left under good terms. The statement also introduced Quidditch fans to the new manager, the temperamental Tempest Storm.
What does this mean for the team? In this reporter’s opinion, they chose (no) style over substance.
Oliver Wood, Gryffindor Keeper for six years and captain for four years, was famous for his motivating speeches and single-mindedness about the aerial sport.
“Oliver was completely focused on Quidditch during school,” said a former Hogwarts teammate of Woods. “He worked out training schedules and plays during his summer hols, for Merlin’s sake!”
Once Wood left Hogwarts, he was snatched up by United,with the largest pre-war signing bonus in history and became the rising star of the league. His statistics were mind-blowing as he allowed a record low forty-seven goals during his second season, earning him Player of the Year honours. Had it not been for the war and suspension of league and international play, he was sure to have been a lock for the World Cup in his first year of eligibility.
With the retirement of Franklin Burleson at the end of the 2005 season, Wood naturally made the move to player-manager, using the same strengths that made him successful during his school days.
“He could motivate a Flobberworm,” stated Angelina Johnson-Weasley, Gryffindor and World Cup teammate, in a recent interview.
Unfortunately, recent matches and players of marginal quality led to the conclusion of Wood’s tenure. Young players with entitlement issues, broom envy, and more swagger than talent were drafted in recent years, leaving Wood little to work with. Even with one of the league’s best motivators and leaders at the helm, Puddlemere fell to the cellar of the standings, a mere single rung above proverbial bottom dwellers, the Chudley Cannons.
Looking forward, Quidditch fans need to expect more from their favourite players than endorsing brooms, charging for autographs, and hiding away in villas in Timbuktu. Fans pay the salaries, line the pockets of the owners, and deserve to have a quality product put before them. The players need to PLAY Quidditch the way it was meant to be, with heart and every fibre of their being. They need to remember what it was like that first match they played at Hogwarts, when the adrenaline overtook them and they nearly fell off their brooms in excitement. Owners, of whom this writer has never been a fan, need to realise that while kids straight out of Hogwarts are technically adults, most of them have never lived on their own or had to decide anything more important than what classes to take or whom to snog in the Astronomy Tower. Handing these players ridiculous amounts of money and sending them straight onto the starting rosters without first proving themselves is perhaps the worst way to build a solid franchise and maintain the level of play that is part of the history of our national pastime.
Oliver Wood, this writer thanks you for trying to groom players, from wet-behind-the-ears second years to veteran players with sore muscles and persistent injuries. You played Quidditch with determination and desire lacking in many of your contemporaries. If this writer has her wish, your unemployment will be short.
Hey, isn’t Madam Hooch retiring? I’d be more than thrilled to have you tutor my children on their brooms.
“See what I mean, Harry? She calls it like she sees it.” Ron beamed.
“Yeah, it is a good article,” Harry agreed with a smile and warm cheeks. “She sounds...familiar.”
“Exactly!” Ron exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “Some of the things she said, I swear I’ve heard before.”
Harry was about to answer when the door of the shop opened with a ring of the bell. “I...I better let you get back to work then,” Harry said, patting Ron on the shoulder and leaving Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes with a swell of pride in his chest.
---------------------------------------------------
“I can’t believe it! They think I’m that writer!” Angelina slapped the most recent issue of Quidditch Weekly onto the kitchen table. “Why would I write an article about myself?” She slumped into an empty chair and looked at her sister-in-law.
“If it makes you feel any better, they thought it was me, too,” Ginny remarked as she dunked a biscuit into her cup of tea. “And Cho, too, if you recall. I think Gwenog even made the cut.”
Angelina rolled her eyes. “You and Cho, I can picture. But me? Gwenog? Gwenog is about as butch as a woman can get without having a penis. And everyone knows that my essays at school were about as interesting as Binns’ lectures. No one would pay to read what I write.” She poured herself a cup of tea and added sugar. “Aren't you upset about this?”
Ginny pushed her hair out of her eyes and shook her head. “It’s a little flattering, but other than that, it’s a nice distraction from hearing about how I ‘gave up’ my career.”
“They were so mean to you. No one blinks when a man retires early, but if a woman wants to stop playing Quidditch...Fucking imbeciles!” Angelina slapped the tabletop.
“You're sellin' dragon eggs to Hagrid, Angie,” Ginny answered with a laugh. “Kind of makes me long for the days when they said I was after Harry for his money.”
Angelina nearly spat tea out of her nose. “You mean you weren’t?” she asked mockingly.
“Sex, my friend. It was all about the sex,” Ginny answered.
“Harry, my sister said ‘sex.’ Did you knock her up again?” George’s voice came from the doorway. The women turned to find their husbands soaked to the skin and mud splattering their shirts.
“What the hell exploded out there, George?” Angelina asked with much exasperation.
“Kids are dangerous on brooms these days. Have no respect,” George muttered.
Harry laughed. “James and Fred are sure to be Beaters. Knocked both of us to the ground.”
“Are you hurt?” Ginny asked, rising from her seat to check on Harry, who shook his head.
“I’m fine, really. Nothing worse than what I get at work.”
“You’ve had a lot happen to you at work,” Ginny reminded him. “Want some tea?”
“You sound more like Mum each day. Tea solves everything, does it?” George teased.
“Maybe it will solve the Bonnie Wright Mystery.” Angelina held out the magazine. “They think it’s me.”
“Have they actually read anything you’ve written?” George said with a snort, earning him a look of amusement mixed with annoyance from his wife. “What’d they say about our dear Bonnie?” He reached for the magazine and leafed through it until he found the article in question.
Mystery Daily Prophet Quidditch Columnist "Bonnie Wright”
Grabs Headlines of Her Own
Not since The Quibbler’s exclusive of Harry Potter has a reporter been the subject of so many conversations and letters to the editor. The new Quidditch columnist has sparked both admiration and scorn for her outspoken opinions and obvious love of the game.
While the brass at the Prophet have been silent about the true identity of the reporter we all know as Bonnie Wright, which is a bit of a word-play on the name of Golden Snitch inventor Bowman Wright, there has been no lack of speculation on the part of the Quidditch-loving public.
“It’s obviously a current player. No one else would keep their identity a secret,” claimed reader Saxton Belle.
“I think it’s someone who was passed over by teams who disregarded their skill on a broom,” stated Westminster resident Zacharias Smith.
Reader Harvey Wallbanger believes that Bonnie “is a sexy gal that needs a little more to do than listen to the wireless, if you know what I mean.”
According to Melody Song of Chelsea, “The reporter is most likely a former female player with strong opinions and a temper.”
Unfortunately for Melody, her opinion is the least popular among readers of Quidditch Weekly. Most of our readers are of the opinion that the writer is one of five people, with whom we here at QW have a close, personal relationship.
The Usual Suspects
#5. Cho Chang-This former member of the Appleby Arrows has the intellectual background of a Hogwarts’ Ravenclaw along with the necessary knowledge of the game. Chang has been known to whinge about the state of things, which would fit part of our dear Bonne's MO.
#4. Gwenog Jones-This long-time Holyhead Harpy adores the spotlight, as evidenced by her antics on and off the broom. Her knowledge of the game would be crucial to the quality of the columns. However, on the negative side, Jones has no children, as the reporter has admitted to in several articles.
#3. Ginny Potter-Our fiery redheaded friend possesses the skills and the temper to write the column. While the former Harpy appears to be somewhat of a shoo-in, her lack of appearances at featured matches makes it unlikely that she has a secret occupation. She made it clear upon her retirement that Quidditch was no longer the focus of her life.
#2. Minerva McGonagall-Yes, we know, she’s nearly as ancient as Hogwarts itself, but the former professor and headmistress has long been known to be a rabid Quidditch fan. She is undoubtedly intelligent with an extreme passion for the game. The references to children most likely are to those children roaming the hallowed halls.
#1. Angelina Johnson-Weasley-Our number-one choice is the outspoken Chaser who made her mark playing for both England and Montrose. She is also an outspoken feminist with enough gall to share her opinions with anyone who would listen. Angie was featured in enough articles during her playing days in which she questioned ownership, called out gender-bias in pay schedules, and lobbied for job guarantees for returning players after having children.
Word from the Prophet
While our opinions lean heavily toward Angelina, they really don’t mean much unless confirmed by the Prophet’s Sports Editor, Johann Deportes. Inside sources state that the articles are delivered via Muggle post without a return address on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays to be printed in the following day’s issue. Each article is then sent to the copy desk, to be checked by Marva Scribe.
“I’ve no comment on who Bonnie Wright is and even if I did know, I wouldn’t be able to say anything for risk of losing my job. I...think.”
Marva’s reaction leads us to believe that there is a Fidelius charm or some such bit of magic in place. This only lends to the air of mystery and the desire to uncover the identity of the writer as well as the magic used to ensure secrecy. It is fruitless, at this point, to investigate further into this whodunit.
But we can have fun trying, can’t we?
“Why didn’t you tell me, dear?” George asked with a laugh. “And here I thought we were just scraping by while you’re making money in secret.” He leaned over and kissed the top of his wife’s head.
“Ha, ha,” Angelina said. “You know it’s not me. I still think it’s Ginny.”
Ginny coughed and took a deep breath. “Nope, not me.”
“She coughed! She’s lying!” George said with glee.
“No, I’m not!” Ginny shot back, her eyes narrowing in anger.
“C’mon, George, leave it alone. Does it really matter?” Harry asked, pulling Ginny next to him. “It’s time to go, Gin. Remember Lily has that play date.”
Ginny paused for a moment. “Oh, hell, that’s right!” She hit herself on the forehead. “Well, let’s go round up the little beasts. Thanks for dinner, Angie.” She embraced Angelina, said goodbye to George, and then stepped outside with Harry, her hand tightly clutching his.
----------------------------------------------
Ginny stepped into Quality Quidditch Supplies trailed by Albus and Lily, who were bickering over who got more Every Flavour Beans in their package. Lily stopped abruptly and pulled on her mother's sleeve.
"Mummy, can I get a new pygmy puff?" Lily asked as she bounced up and down on her toes.
Ginny knelt on a knee and shook her head. "Honey, we already have a hamster, a cat, an owl, and a toad. Why do you need a pygmy puff?"
"But mumm-eee," Lily whinged, "Oreo is Teddy's, Blue is yours, Soc...Socktees is Daddy's and Twevor is Jamie's. I don't have a pet." Lily blinked her big brown eyes purposefully.
"Sweetheart, Albus doesn't have a pet, either."
"Pwease, Mummy! I saw all your pictures of Awnold and he was SO cute!" Lily pleaded.
Ginny was almost ready to give into her youngest when Albus nearly knocked her over.
"Mum! Mum! Mum!"
Ginny smiled. "What? What? What?"
Both kids giggled; it was a little game they played with each other.
"You're famous! Why didn't you tell us?" Al grabbed his sister by the hand and pulled her away while Ginny rose to her feet and slowly followed her children. Gathered around what looked like a large bulletin board was a mob of people.
"There, see!" Albus said, pointing at the notice on the board. Ginny pushed her way through the crowd and came face to face with a large picture of herself from her days playing with the Harpies.
"Oh bloody hell!" At the sound of her voice, the crowd quieted and turned toward her. This felt eerily similar to the reception Harry often received following the war. Never before had she wished to have the Invisibility Cloak within her grasp. The swell of people then began shouting at her, crowding her. Someone stepped on her foot.
"Mummy!" Lily shrieked from beside her.
"STOP!" came a loud, deep voice from the doorway of the shop, earning the desired effect as the crowd immediately quieted. There, standing in his black Auror robes, was none other than Harry Potter, head of the Auror department, and most importantly, husband of the woman in the centre of the mob and father of the children nearly trampled.
"Is that Daddy?" Lily shouted as she jumped up and down excitedly.
The crowd parted and Ginny grabbed the kids' hands and made her way towards Harry, who was holding his wand aloft to hold back the crowd. The family quickly made their way out the door and into Diagon Alley.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked as he pulled Ginny into him for a hug and then bent down to examine the kids. "Where's Jamie?"
"He's with Angie. What the hell is going on in there?" Ginny asked as she gestured toward the shop.
"Mummy, you swore! That's a Knut in the jar!" said Albus in a sing-song voice.
"Not now, Al," Ginny said with irritation. "What's going on?"
"This has everything to do with it." Harry handed her a copy of Quidditch Weekly.
"Again? What happened now?"
"Let's get the kids home. You can read it there." Harry picked up Lily while Ginny took Al's hand. The foursome Disapparated and reappeared in their sitting room.
"Can you two go play in the garden? Please?" Ginny asked the two children.
Lily grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him toward the kitchen door. With the little ones outside, Ginny pulled the magazine out of her bag.
"Page five."
Bonnie Wright Revealed!!
For the past six months, Quidditch fans around the UK have been debating over the identity of the Daily Prophet's outspoken, witty, snarky, yet amazing columnist, Bonnie Wright. Her articles have inspired debate, and increased interest in our beloved sport. And now, with some authority, we at Quidditch Weekly can reveal the real-life persona behind the mystique. Under unique circumstances, freelance QW writer Nefaria Means gleaned this information after a three-hour long conversation with sports editor Johann Deportes, along with a bit of "unconventional" magic.
"I am pleased to say that I now know, with 99.9% certainty that the reporter known as Bonnie Wright is none other than Ginny Weasley Potter."
Nefaria, known for her investigative methods that rival those of the Auror division, used logic and a little known secret about one of Ms. Potter's sisters-in-law and a rebel group called Dumbledore's Army. It should be pointed out that Mr. Deportes will be seen sporting a full beard and moustache for near future.
Underneath the short article was a picture of Ginny in her Harpies kit from her playing days along with another of her holding the World Cup trophy.
For a moment, Ginny stood there, a million emotions building up inside her: rage, relief, frustration, amusement and even betrayal. When she and Harry decided to use the Snitch Surprise Charm, they were confident that both Johann and Marva would cooperate; they were informed about what would happen should the confidentiality contract be broken. Unfortunately for Johann, he will bear the label 'SCORE' for some time.
"I thought I could trust him," Ginny said silently as she sat down on the extra-large chair, where Harry joined her and pulled her close.
"Obviously, Nefaria's the one you can't trust. She had to do something pretty nasty to make him tell. What do we do now?" he asked and kissed her on top of her head.
"I thought you were going to tell me that."
He chuckled and lifted her onto his lap. "You should handle this, Gin. It's all about you. I can't make that decision for you."
Ginny sat in silence for a moment while Harry idly stroked her arm. Several ideas ran through her head.
"Would you be okay if I kept doing it? As me?"
"Doesn't matter what I think," he reiterated. "It's up to you. Same thing as when you decided to play Quidditch and when you decided to stop. I'll be here for you no matter what."
She always knew that Harry was unconditionally supportive of her, as he had shown through the years while she negotiated through her roles as girlfriend, Quidditch player, wife, mother, and reporter. He was perhaps the greatest constant in her life, no matter what she was doing.
"I think I'll just be me."
"That's all I've ever wanted."