Old Times We Never Had

Robert almost had allowed himself a slight twinge about Roland's departure--again. They'd been strategic enemies, but there had generally been some weird sense of honor between them. Robert wasn't disappointed he had one less enemy, but there was something sad in the loss of the powerful intellectual mind that had so been James Roland. They'd challenged each other intellectually and had some high browed political discussions that he knew they'd both enjoyed, whether Roland ever would admit it or not. They'd been sparring partners for years--verbally and with wands both, in peace and in fierce battle. Nevertheless, time was marching on, at least for now, and there was a new editor at the helm of the Daily Prophet.

There had been, for the last couple of years, an agreement between the paper and the Ministry. It had been very, very simple. Robert wanted the truth published about Ministry dealings--nothing less, nothing more. Roland agreed to do that, but only on the condition that the Ministry released its news to the Daily Prophet first, giving them prime access. Generally, that was easy enough. Roland had been concerned about the competition from other media outlets that were rising up in the wizarding community and had not wanted the time honored paper to become a thing of the past. Understandable. Personally, Robert enjoyed the tradition of taking the time to read a paper properly. If he had a beef with it, it was because so much of the time, the Prophet had knotheads reporting the news, and it had lost a great deal of quality and looked more like the Quibbler than the Quibbler did. Most of what the Prophet had been turning out at that time had been innuendo, rumor, or out and out lies. That was right about when Roland had returned to the leadership. Things had been improving, and then, poof. In true Roland style, the man was gone again. Seemed to be more of a wizarding issue than a muggle one. Muggles didn't have the ability to just go off poofing here, poofing there. The lack of magic was usually a significant anchor for a muggle, and most of the time, it wasn't hard to find them. Wizards, not so much.

Robert felt a need to meet this new man. He didn't intend to honor any agreement with anyone anymore unless he knew what Mr. Gilbert Prichard's agenda was. Was Prichard with half a mind, or was he one of the knotheads that the Prophet was so full of so often? And, did Prichard intend to hire someone who could rub two brain cells together to create intelligent thought or not? He'd asked Mr. Prichard to meet over just a simple cup of tea and get to know one another a bit. Civilities sometimes were important. He much preferred to make the tea himself in a copper tea kettle on the hearth in his office fireplace. He was picky about tea from the blend and how it was brewed to how it was served. He preferred, at work, a smooth blend of black tea that he bought at a tiny tea importer in a little street in an old section of muggle London. He put the tea on to brew, and picked up a couple of the large handthrown stoneware mugs that he thought allowed the natural flavor of the tea to come through.

Wanting to send a clear message that his attention was focused on Prichard and their meeting, he took a moment to clear his desk. It was, after all, the appropriate business gesture to make.

What could one do, really, once the Minister of Magic called one in for a meeting? Gilbert couldn't exactly say no, he decided without even having to take a moment to consider it. The fact that he had not met the man yet didn't really surprise him, as he was still rather early on in his career. And, knowing Gil, he felt he still had a long way to go before he felt content. He did need to settle into this role before he could consider looking for the next big thing, though, and apparently meeting the Minister would be part of that task.

Sliding his arms into the sleeves of his blazer, Gilbert left his office, passing a nod to the photographer that was coming in to edit photos for the story they were working on. From there, he made his way to the Minister's office, half wondering if this was an introduction or if the Minister had some ulterior motive. Gil certainly wouldn't have blamed him, given the news outlets had so much power over the minds of the Wizarding World, just as they did in the Muggle one. Admittedly, that was part of the reason he had taken to Journalism and reporting as quickly as he had. Facts would be reported, of course, but there was always a chance that bias would slip in, and after that nobody knew what the truth of the matter was. Worlds could be turned upside down with faulty reporting.

He left early enough to make it to the Minister's office without having to take a floo, and greeted the secretary at the desk outside. After checking in, he moved to the door and lifted his hand, knocking twice.

His secretary, if she knocked, knocked with a machine gun-like rhythm of three sharp taps, so this clearly wasn't her.

He was hoping that this was Mr. Prichard and not someone to derail him into something else. He opened the file drawer and looked for the copy of the agreement that he and Roland had had. Things like this were easily made and just as easily broken. Robert knew Roland well enough to believe he'd have actually kept it if push had come to shove, but it was also like Roland to squirrel away such pieces if it suited him. Who knew if Prichard even knew it existed?

It was time, though, for Prichard and him to get to meet, get to know each other, at least a little, and to be allowed to test the waters as to where the other stood. All he really knew about Prichard was that he was young. He had hoped to get more of a dossier even on his basic wizarding citizenship facts, but, as it happened, a young file clerk had decided to have a scone at his desk and had managed to smear some of the papers on his desk with jam--the worst of the stains on Prichard's dossier. The papers had been sent for restoration, but they certainly were not going to be ready for Robert's desk when he needed them. Ah, the bliss of governmental bureaucracy at work. While Robert believed in what the government was generally trying to do, he often didn't like the methods or the results either one. On the other hand, he figured that Prichard didn't know much about Robert either, except that through Prichard's eyes, Robert felt fairly assured he would appear old. Seemed like they were about evenly equipped for this, weren't they?

At Robert's call, Gilbert reached up and adjusted the scarf around his neck and turned the handle of the door with his free hand. Stepping in, his eyes swept the room quickly, getting as much of an idea of things as he could. It didn't give as much insight into the Minister as he had hoped, but Gilbert wasn't necessarily the best at piecing little things together. It had never been important before, and now he regretted it as he closed the door behind him.

He made sure to meet the man's gaze as he turned back around towards the main part of the office, still trying to guess, mentally, what the meeting would be about. He had moved into the position of Editor-and-Chief quite recently and was quite sure he couldn't have caused any real trouble yet.

"Minister," he greeted, approaching the older man's desk. Refusing to look as though he were anxious, Gilbert walked all the way up to the edge of the piece of furniture, extending his hand over it. "Gilbert Prichard. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."

"Mr. Prichard, good morning," Robert smiled, rose and shook hands. "Thank you for coming." He had no reason to be anything but friendly to the young man. "I've been hearing your name. It's good to finally put a face to it. Have a seat.

"And congratulations on your new post. Running the Prophet is no small task, but its time we got some new blood there." The kettle on the hearth started to steam and play a bit of an annoying tune. The kettle had been a Christmas gift from Michael.  Well, it had all looked formal and businesslike enough--until now, and it was all going downhill. Robert had forgotten the damn thing could sing but he'd keenly remembered it was cantankerous. He was hoping the pot would be on its best behavior, or Michael wasn't going to hear the end of it--ever.

"Shut it, You," he spoke to the teapot. "I'm coming." The teapot hissed at him. "Gift from a cheeky friend. Brews good tea," he said to Prichard, "but it does get a trifle ticky." He wasn't going to tell Prichard the thing also could bite if it got a bit too hot under its little lid. Robert had learned to not grab it by reaching over its spout side. It was always better to snatch it quickly from the back end. It always felt a little like sneaking up on the thing, but he grabbed it without incident--this time. At least that hadn't served to embarrass.

"The Prophet has been an important voice in communicating from news from the Ministry, and I thought it was a good time to get acquainted in about what your views are on coverage of the Ministry. I don't know if you've had time to look at where we've been with it, but I do realize you might want to be looking at updating that."  He took the teapot back over towards his credenza where he kept tea supplies on one end.

"Since there's a fresh pot, would you like a cup before we get down to business?" he offered.

Doing as he was bid, Gilbert sank into the chair behind him, offering a small smile at the congratulatory statement. He came up with a nod, but halted at the comment about needing new folks to run it. "Thank you. I intend to do my best." He wasn't sure if seeming too pleased would come off as rude or conceited, and now wasn't the time to share what he truly felt, even if he actually did feel that way.

A more relaxed and good-natured expression took him as he let out a quiet chuckle. "Perhaps I should purchase one for my sister. Oddly, I think she would find it hilarious."

He tilted his head, preparing a response that would sound at least remotely thought out, but stopped to agree to a cuppa. Once he had done so, Gilbert came to the conclusion that, as casual as this meeting was perhaps meant to feel, this was about business, and he needed to treat it as such. Perhaps he would be given the chance to get to know the Minister afterwards, or at a later date or event. But apparently ground rules of some kind were needed and they would be the order of the day.

"I am unaware of how things have been done before, but I know how.. easy it can be to ruin a life with nothing more than a press release. A few choice words and everything can change," he mused aloud, glancing down at his hands. When he looked back at the Minister, his expression was deadly serious. "It may not sound fully believable, given the career I've chosen, but doing such things is not my intention. I believe in honor, and have very little tolerance for those who don't. There is a sense of tradition at this Ministry and at the Prophet, and I see no reason to break either until someone doesn't something out of order."

He took a moment to pour the tea, handed a mug to Prichard, and picked up the kettle to return it to the hearth. As he set it back down, the infernal thing nipped his wrist, causing a slight trickle of blood on Robert's wrist, just a v-shaped breaking of the skin from the shape of the spout.

"That's enough of that," Robert reprimanded it. "How would you like me to turn you into a water pipe in my cellar?" The kettle stayed motionless. "Gotta stand your ground with magical things like that and show them who's boss. If you get one for your sister, do get one that doesn't bite," he said, dabbing away the blood with his handkerchief. "Worst thing about touch healers, we can never heal ourselves. It never works."

He sat back down at the desk, listening to Prichard's philosophies. "I couldn't agree with you more," Robert said. "Let me presume you don't know much about your predecessor because its a story you do need to know. Mr. Roland and I know each other well, though we certainly aren't friends. Roland is a man with an incredible mind. He's a political animal, is well read, and probably has the most exceptional wand skills of anyone I've ever seen. You don't want to be facing the business end of his wand, that's for certain. It most often has a quite unfortunate end."  

Robert had dueled with Roland on more than one occasion. Even in faction fighting, Roland never seemed interested in dueling except with those who presented him enough of a challenge that he could savory the victory if he won. When those opportunities came up, he usually zeroed in on Robert, and Robert couldn't ever recall shying away from Roland's challenge. They were sparring adversaries in many ways.

"We agree that the preservation of the greater good is of key importance--the difference being, however, that Roland has a definition of the greater good that is entirely his own. He's fairly single minded about trying to bring that picture about, but since no one else from any other political faction seems to share his viewpoint, he's decided that the only way he can make his vision happen is by being the Minister himself so he can strong arm his viewpoints over the populace. That would be, most likely, very unhealthy for a great many people, so I continue to try to hold that sort of thing off if I can.

"That's the backstory. I tell you that because its relevant to the relationship between the Prophet and the Ministry. Because Roland had his own agenda, and he had the Prophet as a powerful weapon that, for awhile, he focused on wielding the paper with all apparent intents and purposes of discrediting the Ministry and me. He and I both knew that if he could manage to discredit me, he could make a bid to take this office for his own.  Roland was actually bold enough to make that much transparent. Frankly, I'm not about to let that happen. 'Extraordinarily bad' or 'Very Unhealthy' things are not on my agenda.

"There is an old and very wise philosophy though about keeping friends close and enemies closer. About a year ago, Roland came to me wanting much deeper access to the Ministry, which is not surprising, since it would give him a stronger foothold here. However, he also knew I had no reason to give it to him because up to that point, his coverage, except for some exclusives given to Pansy Parkinson-Nott by my daughter, was nothing but a laughable pack of lies. The Prophet's sales were sagging, and it was kind of a no brainer as to why.

"What Roland wanted was the right of exclusive first access to any news items from the Ministry. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what a power boost that would have given him if suddenly the voice of James Roland and the Prophet had become the definitive voice for all things Ministry and all 'truth', whether it was truth or not.

"What I wanted was for contrived crap to stop and for the truth to be published, no more, no less, whether we've done something stellar here or some colossal blunder. Its foolish to think there won't be both in any government. So, we made a written agreement--one that's due to expire two months from now.  I would hazard to guess you haven't seen it. Roland would never leave something like that, something he felt was so important for his own gain, just stuck in the appropriate files in your legal department. That's not his style. If you haven't seen it, then I assure you, it's still in your office, in some little magical hidey hole where he squirreled it away for himself--if you're in for a little digging to find it.  That being said, though, I have kept the Ministry copy, and I'm guessing you'd be interested in seeing it." He drew the document out of the file drawer in his desk. "This is a copy. Roland had an original, as does the Ministry. Ours, however, was filed in the legal department."  He laid the document across the desk for Prichard's examination.

"I do have to tell you that Roland wasn't forward thinking enough this time. This agreement hasn't been as useful to Roland as he thought it would be, and, as is his pattern, he's buggared off again. He seems to do that when he thinks his plans have been compromised. In my opinion, that's most likely what caused the opening for you to step in."

Gilbert would have openly admitted his lack of knowledge about Roland, but as the story went on, he figured it made just as much sense to keep quiet and listen. He undoubtedly needed to know what had happened in the past if he wanted to know what he ought to expect in the future. How much of his work would be compromised if the Ministry didn't like what he let his reporters produce?

Minister Lupin held nothing back, it seemed, and Gilbert appreciated it. That just made it easier to piece things together. "I appreciate your telling me. I definitely prefer to have as much information as possible, in all things, so I find it very helpful."

He paused to take a sip from his cup, thankful that it did not bite like the pot had done. When he cradled it in his palms again, he continued. "It would be a lie to say that having first access to Ministry matters wouldn't be beneficial for the Prophet. As someone with family in journalism via other news outlets, I can say that it would definitely make me happy to know that my paper is doing better than my sister's," he said, only partly in jest. He offered a smile to show that he was being good-natured about it.

"I'll admit that I don't... intend to allow anything to be published that is untrue or... callous. But I think that the deal you're offering is one that any intelligent person would take."

Was he trying to be manipulative? Perhaps. But that was something Gilbert was fairly acquainted with. Who knew how far it would get him in this new job of his?

"I thought perhaps you might want it to continue, at least until the end of the current contract," Robert said. "We can examine it towards that time, if you like. Extending it would be a simple matter of an addendum, so long as we have it completed and signed before the end of this arrangement. Its not a complicated matter.

"As for my own desires, while I certainly welcome a chance to expand our communications, I am a man who likes the smell and feel of a book, the smell and feel of a newspaper. I don't see myself wanting to abandon all tradition for wizarding versions of muggle technologies.

"I do see that the new additions to our media systems are getting a great deal of attention, partly because of their newness and novelty, and partly because of their promises of immediacy. However, I've noticed that a lot of the coverage isn't being done with the depth that the Prophet can do.

"Flat out, my personal interest is in making sure we still have a morning paper to get detailed, truthful information from. So--I have no issue in keeping the current arrangement, with the same sort of arrangement that I had with Roland. You print the truth--not propaganda, not someone's political agenda. You present the facts, and you'll get your exclusive first access to Ministry news."

That brought to mind the subject that had been probably half of the coverage that the Prophet had done that involved his family. He was aware that the rumor mill had been rich with speculation. Some of the Prophet's editorials were filled with inuendo and suspicion, alluding to all sorts of codswallop. In the end, though, in the interviews, where it counted, the longer interviews had been largely more focused and on point. Those were the things he cared about when it came to his own household. That, and that they never tried to uncover or publish his address and that sort of rot.

"Just so I've touched on the subject, though, access to my family was somewhat covered because my daughter was working here too. Now, she's ended her term as Chief Warlock to concentrate on St. Mungos and on her children. I do also understand that my family's private lives will always probably be part of the public's curiosity. I honestly don't have a plan for that, except that I do need to maintain their safety and security. I won't say all interviews with them are off. That would be ludicrous. If my family is treated fairly, and if it doesn't compromise their safety, then I see no reason why that shouldn't continue as it has been."

Gilbert couldn't deny that he didn't like the idea of making copies of the paper fully digital. It seemed bizarre to him, the idea of not seeing people open the paper each morning at breakfast. He had always seen his father do so, despite how checked out the man always seemed. The very possibility of it made him frown.

"Believe you me, Minister," he began, shaking his head, "I have no intention of ruining that tradition. I can't stand the idea of electronic books, much less newspapers. And that is definitely a deal I can get behind."

As Lupin continued, Gilbert was only mildly surprised by the topic. As far as additional requirements went, he could accept that. "I cannot deny that my writers will likely be interested in asking for information directly from your family and those high up in your Ministry's ranks. But if there comes a time when certain information needs to be kept, and you don't trust specific reporters, I would be willing to execute the interview and writing of the article.

"The same could be said for anything that you want to promote but want to keep specific information in or out of the news. I'm aware that one of our reporters has a terrible reputation, so I can see why you would be wary," he added, frowning down at his tea for a moment before lifting it up to take a sip.