Chapter 9: The Adventures of Mark Skeeter: 2 Centimeters from Fired
"SKEETER! MY OFFICE! NOW!", the loud shout drowned out all the noise of the Daily Prophet journalists typing away.
"Haha! I told you that you shouldn't publish that article about the Black boy, the boss is going to have your hide!", a skeevy looking man with a 10'oclock shadow grinned and slapped the back of the middle-aged man who was typing at the desk next to him.
The man's shoulders only slumped. This was the third time this month that he had been called in by the boss. He quickly finished the cigaret he was working on and smashed it onto the shared ashtray between him and his neighbor's desk.
"Wish me luck," Skeeter, an average looking man with brown hair and green eyes, stood while grabbing his hat and nodding to his neighbor.
"I wish you the best. If you get fired I'll buy you a drink to say goodbye!", the poorly groomed man grinned at his troubled friend.
"Yeah, yeah, fuck you too...", Mark said as he quickly made his way to the glass walled office of his boss.
He could see the man, grey hair, grey mustache, angrily smoking a cigar, veins on his neck and forehead bulging.
"Yeah... He's angry...", Mark shuddered and paused before the desk of his bosses secretary.
"Hey, Linda, you look great today! Do you by chance want to get a drink with me sometime after work?", Mark said to the beautiful blond woman with bright red lipstick who only rolled her eyes at the remark.
"Mr. Juniper is angry Mark, don't keep him waiting", Linda continued working on her nails not even giving him a glance.
"Hah, sure... Wish me luck then", Mark gulped and gingerly opened the door.
"Hey, Boss... You called for me?", Mark said as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. J. Johnathon Juniper's face was flushed red in anger and his fingers angrily drummed on his desk.
"You know why you are here Skeeter?", he said as he puffed his cigar.
"Uh... I published an article... That you told me not to publish..."
"Yes. Skeeter, I told you not to mess with this one. In fact, I would like to think that I EXPLICITLY PROHIBITED HIM FROM PURSUING THIS STORY, DID I NOT LINDA?", he shouted the last part of the statement loud enough that spittle flew from his mouth.
"Yes sir, you did", Linda replied bored as she continued to manicure her fingernails, changing their color with her wand.
"Now Skeeter, what should I do with a journalist who doesn't follow orders?", J. Jonathan Juniper asked.
"I don't know sir", Mark said hollowly.
"LINDA! HE SAYS HE DOESN'T KNOW!", shouted past Mark.
"I heard sir", Linda said as she moved on from her nails to studying her face in a mirror.
"But sir, this story got great publicity! We made a great profit from the sales of this week's publi-", Marked moved to make his case for disobeying only to be interrupted.
"I DON'T CARE!", these three words from the editor's mouth shook the entire floor.
"You are messing with the Black family, and they were not happy that you published the name of a child who has not even gotten his magic yet! Arcturus the Patriarch of the Black family was recently given an Order of Merlin first class and holds huge sway over the entire Ministry! YOU HAVE MADE ME HIS ENEMY!", J. Jonah Jamiso- I mean J. Jonathon Juniper [ ;) ] slammed his desk to emphasize the last point.
Mark was doing his best to avoid eye contact with his boss and spotted the other Daily Prophet journalists all watching the show, some even eating popcorn as if they were watching a muggle soap opera.
"Boss I-", Mark started.
"DON'T ≈BOSS≈ ME! YOU ARE TWO CENTIMETERS FROM BEING FIRED! AND IF YOU WEREN'T MY BEST WRITER YOU WOULD BE! NOW GET OUT OF MY OFFICE AND WRITE SOMETHING THAT I CAN ACTUALLY PUBLISH!", Juniper shouted as Mark practically ran out the door.
The door slamming behind him Mark exited his boss's office.
"He wasn't fired damn-it!", one of his co-workers mourned as money began changing hands. Mark could only shake his head, so much for workplace solidarity. He made his way back to his desk as the Daily Prophet slowly came back to life after its loud interruption. Mark slumped down into his chair tiredly as fingers tapped on typewriters.
"Told you not to put it in", Wiley Harpis, the unkempt journalist who sat beside Mark lazily said as he finished the last of a bag of popcorn, "You're not gonna stop looking into this huh".
"Of course not! Are you kidding me!?!?! This is the story of the century! Biggest thing since Grindlewald! We could have a new Dark Wizard right here in Britain! And who's to say that the whole thing wasn't caused by the Black family themselves? I bet a year's salary that this is a ploy by the Blacks...", Mark ranted as Wiley only raised an eyebrow and crumbled the empty bag of popcorn.
"What if they summoned the Grim with some dark ritual? I just know that they are hiding something! Why would they work so hard to keep the whole thing under wraps? And the boy! He had a huge silver scar on his face, and when I looked him in the eye it was as if he saw through me! It gave me shivers! Tell me that's not strange!", Mark questioned as he gathered a few miscellaneous notes from his desk and put them in his bag. He quickly checked the film on his camera and put on his jacket.
"Wiley, cover for me, don't tell the boss where I went. I'll buy you a round!", Mark said as he ran out the door.
Wiley only rolled his eyes and went back to working on his own story.
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