When you can't see which grass is greener, chances are it's neither

As Angelique followed the clerk down the halls of the Daily Prophet, she wondered why she hadn't thought of this before. It was actually the perfect plan. A way to live the life she'd prefer to become accustomed to without putting in any effort on her part. Or, hardly any effort, anyway.

And she could finally end her tenuous association with the Death Eaters once and for all. Not that she was afraid of them, or anything, they just turned her stomach.

Gilbert really, really wanted a drink. It had been a bizarre morning and now someone was on their way to see him, apparently. After sending that man to talk to Adrienne and then going to his meeting, lunch had been too short for his liking. But there was too much work to be done for the story they were expected to print about this whole train vanishing act situation.

When a knock sounded at the door, he offered a welcoming invitation for them to come in, so the door swung open at the other end of the room. Gil, for his part, was sitting at his desk when the clerk led the way in, gesturing towards the woman they had brought to his office.

Gilbert looked up, his quill stilling over the copy he was marking for rewrites as he settled his gaze on her instead. The clerk ducked out, preparing to hear Gil's typical greeting and question. He wasn't disappointed.

"Good afternoon, miss. What can I do for you?"

Angelique smiled at the title. The Prichard boy had grown up. She, on the other hand, obviously still looked young enough to be in Hogwarts. People were always mistaking her for someone younger, not that Angelique minded.

"Hello, Gilbert," she greeted the man. "Do you not remember me?"

She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't. She mostly knew who he was because his sister had been in her year and they had almost the exact same surname as a prominent pureblood family. Embarrassing. For the real Pritchards, that is.

"Never mind. I'm here to enquire whether this delightful publication has a lonely hearts column. I think it would just put a bit of that brightness back into everyone's lives, don't you?" she said.

"Or at least provide some cheap entertainment."

The longer he looked at the woman in front of him, Gilbert did determine that he had seen her before, but if anything she must have been older than him. Gil had been in the habit of knowing more about the younger students. But then again, the way she spoke was familiar. Had she been in Slytherin?

She moved on before he could pretend that she was wrong. But her point of interest was one that surprised him.

"I can't say I know of the Prophet ever having one," he returned. "Granted, I have not had the time since taking the job to look into that in particular."

Leaning forward, he looked at her curiously. "Are you asking because you want to write it? Or because you want to submit something for it?"

He cracked a smile at that, though it probably looked like more of a smirk. The idea that she would be the type to want to send something in was so strange to him that he couldn't help but want to laugh. Perhaps he should indeed open the space for a column like that and tell Maude to apply. Her 'not interested' boss would probably find that quite... well, interesting.