This was written for Transfiguration in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Challenges and Assignments, and also Eris in the Greek Mythology Challenge on HPFC.

Also... First story of 2015! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

I Was This Close!

"My name is Rita Skeeter-" Rita paused for one, dramatic moment, before continuing with a double-edged smile. "And I would like to welcome you all to my party, in honour of my newly published biography."

There was a smattering of polite applause, and Rita smiled around at them all, drinking it all in.

At last...

Victory.

But then her beady eyes set on a certain man. He was attempting to seem inconspicuous, but failing in a way known normally only to professionals. He glanced up to Rita, and clapped twice, and slowly, his sunglasses not dislodging.

"Patrick!" She said, walking over to him, after her speech had finished, clapping her hands together. "It's such an honour to see you again."

Patrick waved his hand with a smile, and Rita smiled to herself, thinking back on the better aspects of working, to all intents and purposes, as a Muggle.

Namely, no one could compare to Rita Skeeter- new correspondent for The New York Times, as she had s trick or two up her acid green sleeve.

Her beloved Quick-Quotes Quill had simply had to go, of course (she had to avoid awkward questions), but her... Buggy friend was still usable, to great effect.

And here she was, standing on her victory, and talking to a major rock star from one band or another.

Rita didn't care, to be honest. She could get a story out of Patrick, and so she smiled politely, and nodded.

"I was wondering..." She trailed off, looking Patrick right in the eye- well, the sunglasses, and let her smile widen. "If you could give me an exclusive scoop about your upcoming album?"

"No, sorry." Patrick was used to the paparazzi, Rita would give him that, despite his annoying accent. "It was, erm, good to see you again Rita."

And he walked away. A lesser reporter than Rita might give up, but she just smirked, shaking her head.

It took barely a second to find a secluded area and transform, and five seconds later she was hidden in a flowerpot.

Rita rubbed her feelers together delightedly, and chuckled to herself.

"...bloody annoying party." Patrick was saying, his face screwed up. "Alex? You got any paracetamol?"

'Possible migraine problems' Rita noted in her head, smirking inwardly.

"Nah mate." The other guy - the one that looked like he needed both a bath and a stylist ('not looking after himself, missing his ex-wife?') said. "Bob called, by the way."

"Sod Bob." Patrick waved his hand. "He's all 'album this' and 'album that' and 'go to Skeeter's party'."

'Band may break up with whatever record company they're with due to disagreements'

"Skeeter's a witch." The ugly one said, picking his nose and inspecting the bogey, before flicking it away.

Rita shuddered, muttering about disgusting manners.

"What's up mate?" Patrick said, and Rita straightened up a little. She had to be alert enough to pick up any little tit-bit.

"Just worried about the recording for-"

Rita waited and waited, but...

Silence. Just silence. Rita looked around, to see huge Muggles walking by clutching glasses of champagne. One veered a little too close to comfort, and she flinched, raising her front two legs to her ears but feeling-

Then, a sickeningly familiar voice, centimetres from her ear...

"Hello, Rita."

Her hearing was unblocked again, and Rita scuttled off the flowerpot, only to be picked up and placed in the palm of someone's hand.

"Damn you Granger." Rita muttered.

"That's Hermione Weasley to you." Hermione Weasley said, pocketing Rita and grabbing a glass of champagne on her way out of the party.