Veracity - ✔️

Three

"The truth will set you free.
But not until it is finished with you."
- David Foster Wallace

Rita Skeeter had never been very respected in the Wizarding Community, and Athene completely understood why. But, as the aspiring author sat in her apartment at 1 a.m. with no idea what to write, her respect for the woman grew tenfold. Athene's typewriter sat untouched in front of her with balled up pieces of paper strewn about the floor. When Dumbledore had asked her to write the truth, she hadn't expected it to be this hard.

"Urgh," Athene groaned into her arms. In reality, she should be sleeping soundly in her bed. But her procrastination had gotten the better of her, and the Order was expecting her first article the next morning. She had already picked out her topic - the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and Voldemort's involvement - and she had already done her research. She had interviewed Harry and Alastor Moody two days prior. She had everything she needed to write. Everything except inspiration.

And, then, something took ahold of Athene's mind, and her fingers took off, and words began to form out of thin air. The clickity-clack of the buttons slamming together filled the room until the sun started to rise. Oddly enough, Athene wasn't tired. Her mind was whirring with all of the information that she had slammed together. The Lies of the Final Task was written boldly across the top of the parchment, and a moving picture of Harry and Moody was situated in the middle of the page. The woman worked quickly to make more copies of her two paged paper before people would start to wake. She needed this to be ready for the day to come.

"Athene?" Someone shouted up the stairs, but Athene paid them no mind. Her attention was fixed on the pile of papers sitting on her desk. "Merlin's beard, you look awful."

Nymphadora Tonks stared in shock at the woman hunched over her desk. Athene's hair had been sloppily pulled up sometime between 2 and 3 a.m., and several pieces of hair were floating aimlessly around her face. There were deep purple bags under her eyes, and her skin was a harrowing shade of white. It was like she'd genuinely turned into a ghost. "Hey, Tonks."

"Something must be wrong," Tonks slowly approached the woman, "you've never consciously called me Tonks before."

Athene managed a smile, but her attention was drawn back to her article. "I did it, Tonks. It's all there." Athene watched as Tonks carefully as her eyes scanned over the article. "None of that was in the Daily Prophet. They just published the Ministry's lies."

"This is incredible," Tonks stared at the parchment in her hands in awe, "Do not underestimate the Ministry. They are capable of far worse crimes than lying to the people they are supposed to protect. Harry is gonna love this."

"I sent him his copy just before six," Athene nodded towards the open window. "The rest of the Order will be getting theirs soon. You can keep that if you'd like." The exhausted girl gathered the papers into her arms and staggered through her apartment. It was a wonder that she made it into her bookstore without falling down the stairs.

It was only half-past nine, and there was a line of people outside her door. Perfect.

She plopped the papers at the front desk, and with a wave of her wand, she opened her shop for business. Athene didn't care for her appearance; she knew that she didn't look the greatest. All she wanted was for the truth to be set free. It was like something had possessed the girl during the night, and it wouldn't leave her until she accomplished this task. Her patrons filed into the store and began the daily routine.

Bathsheba was looking at her newest additions about gnomes, and Margarete was speaking avidly with a newer customer. The first person to notice the free reading material - and consequently Athene's disarray - was a younger-looking woman with several books on potions tucked under her arm. She eyed the parchment warily before looking towards Athene, "Did you write this?"

"That," Athene handed her a copy so that the woman could get a better look, "is my newsletter: Veracity. Take as many as you like." The woman set her books on the counter, and her eyes devoured the information on the parchment. When she got to the end of the article, she eyed Athene with interest and a look akin to approval.

"How did you come by this information?"

"I interviewed Harry Potter himself. And I was there, at the last task." Athene's exhaustion was starting to affect her. The words that tumbled from her mouth were raw and full of emotion. "I saw the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory with my own eyes."

This answer seemed to satisfy the woman as she nodded and reached for another copy, "You're very brave for writing such a bold statement against the Ministry."

"The truth deserves to be heard."

By the time the woman had left with her books and two copies of Veracity, people were standing in line just to get a copy of her article. Every single one of her patrons had obtained a copy. Bathsheba and Margarete had both eagerly picked up a copy with their newest stack of books. But it wasn't just her typical customers who were crowding the little shop. Wizards that she had never seen before waited in line for an article.

Each person had a different reaction to what she wrote. Some were ecstatic, but others weren't as happy. Athene knew that there would be an uproar with what she wrote. The truth was never an easy pill to swallow, but she could see realization dawning on every single person that walked through Epeolatry's door.

"Harry Potter is not a liar. War is upon us, yet the Ministry refuses to see reason. How many lives need to be lost before our Minister recognizes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned? How many people will we lose before we realize that evil is never that far away?"

Author's Note:
Not sure about this one, might need to come back and rewrite it. Please let me know what you think!