 Kaplinski Rival Sorting Hat Machine
Tap, tap, tap ... it didn't help. She could tap her heel against her desk all she liked, the words still wouldn't make sense to her. What on earth Skeeter thought she had been playing at, she'd never know. Now the Daily Prophet was in a mess, its reputation ruined all because of one poisonous woman and an arrogant minister.
Unable to come up with an apology to the readers, she sucked on her sugar quill, her eyes dancing over the various flower framed photos before her. The Weasley's, the Lovegoods, the Potters and the Longbottoms. Lovely people, lovely families. Pity, I cant have one, thought Emmaline as she once again tapped her heel against the table leg. She'd have much preferred to be at the Order base right now, but the day job called, to no avail. She just simply could not find the words to express the rage she felt. |