If Only... (Harry Potter Next Generation)

Interview With Rita Skeeter

"You're free to go now, children."
Dumbledore said. James made a move for the exit when a certain little blonde woman stoped him in his tracks.

"I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but may I have a quick word with Mr... Papadopoulos?"

"Now, now Rita, I'm sure Jacob would quite like to return to his lessons-"

"I'll only be five minutes, Albus." She smirked and James cringed, silently begging for Dumbledore to refuse again. "Promise."

"Well that all depends. Mr Papadopolous?" Dumbledore gazed over at James who was furiously shaking his head and Rita Skeeter followed his gaze.

Involuntarily, James squeaked out a: "sure" then cursed repeatedly under his breath.

"Great." Skeeter smiled wickedly and placed a perfectly manicured hand on his chest, as James attempted to keep a polite smile on his face.

Dumbledore, along with everyone else, emptied the room until it was just Skeeter and James left.

They sat across from each other and James couldn't help fidget under her calculating gaze. Skeeter crossed her legs professionally (perhaps the only professional thing about her), adjusted her glasses and rested her hands on her knees before starting her interrogation. Sorry, interview.

"So- Jacob is it?" James nodded. "A little birdie told me you're not from around here. Are the rumors true?"

"Yes." That was all he said. She didn't seem very pleased with his answer. Her lips pursed and eyes slimmed. That was the first time James noticed the quill. Of course he knew this quill from his fathers stories and had always laughed when he said it "freaked him out." James totally got it now.

"Care to elaborate?" She pressed.

"No."

"I heard you and the... other children who arrived with you were from America."

"Well if you already knew that, why are you asking?"

Skeeter forced out a laugh that died quickly. "Yes, well. How about we move on?
I'm sure a lot of people have been wondering really who you are. I mean, I know I certainly have never heard of the Papadopoulos' before."

James smiled slightly; hearing Rita Skeeter try and say Papadopoulos was perhaps the funniest thing he had ever heard.

"I guess my family just aren't that popular." Oh the irony.

She smiled and looked down at her lap, then back up at me, a small smile on her lips. "You really don't want to answer my questions do you?"

"No, not at all."

"You know, Jacob, I like you." She tells him. "You tell it like it is."

"What can I say?" He said, "I was raised to tell the truth."

"Oh really? Well in that case I have one more question. Just one, I promise," she added when she saw James's annoyance.

"Alright, shoot."

"Why did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" It seems she shot him directly in the heart. That was a question Lily had been asking him for the past three days. A question he had been asking himself for three years, (but that's a story for another time).

"I don't know." He said. "I guess part of me just wanted to prove that I could." She didn't know this- she never would- but that was always the way it was for James. Everyone thought Albus was the only who always had to prove himself. The Slytherin son of Harry Potter; hated quidditch (hated people); best friends with Draco Malfoy's son. Nobody ever realised James had it worse.

Albus has given up proving himself years ago, he no longer cared what Harry thought of him. James, however... James was the eldest. Responsible for Albus and Lily. Pushed to be better than everyone else because he was the Potter boy who "got it right" but being named after James Potter and Sirius Black did have its downsides. No one ever said it, but he knew they all expected him to be like them. So he gave them what they wanted to see. Nothing more, nothing less.

After everything that happened with Albus and his first time travelling adventures, his and Harry's relationship had only been getting better.

Deep down, James had always felt jealous of Albus. It wasn't fair. Of course, James loved being James and loved his life, but sometimes he found himself wishing he wasn't who he was. Wished he had been born as someone else's son. Maybe not even magical.

"Rita," Dumbledore said appearing almost out of no where. "Your five minutes are up."

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