The Gossip Columnists:
Summary: What you want to know, when you want to know it – articles in the Daily Prophet written by none other than the esteemed column writers of said newspaper, except Rita Skeeter, who may possibly be not writing for us anymore…..
Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction. Therefore JK Rowling owns all Harry Potter stuff.
Chapter One: It's Not Raccoons! By journalist Stephanie Flockheart
Have you ever woken up and wondered why? Wondered why your garbage cans were flattened, or why your garage was missing a chunk of its roof, or why your tabby looked like a waffle? Well I'll tell you why, good citizens of Hogsmeade! It's not raccoons, or kneazels with waffle irons that are causing this problem – It's Ernie!
Ernie, a seemingly harmless no, sweet elderly gentleman that drives the Knight Bus, is really a sadistic savage! But how, you ask me, how dearest Stephanie could you possibly think that that sweet coke bottle glasses man is a sadistic savage? I'll tell you my faithful reader! Recently, I decided to do some investigating on our dear Mr. Ernie after seeing him rear end a parked car in muggle London. I donned my best mustache and funny toupee and boarded the Knight Bus. I took the seat, or bed rather, behind Ernie and would have started asking questions right away had one of his artifacts not caught my attention. Who, dear people, keeps a shrunken head as their mirror ornament? And where would said shrunken head be gotten from? Only one conclusion could possibly be drawn! Knockturn Alley. That's right. Knockturn Alley. A dark place, full of dark magic – for dark magic liking people.
Now, of course one trip to Knockturn Alley doesn't make someone a sadistic savage…. it only raises a few eyebrows. The second thing I noticed about Ernie was his fitful outbursts of rage, shown through furious wiping of his glasses. My dear reader I will not lie. I was so scared. There he was a ticking time bomb of absolute rage right before me. His inner rage was so tangible that I could taste it wafting through the air! In fact, it tasted a bit like Fire Whiskey, but that's not the point! It was frightening!
As if that wasn't enough I was on the bus, (yes I!), when Ernie had the misfortune of running over a park bench. A park bench! (How do you hit one of those anyway?) And do you know what he said after he flattened that bench? "Woo! That was a big bump!" …… My dear readers, he said …. 'Woo'. A poor, defenseless park bench has been ripped from its concrete home and he says 'woo'? Who utters such an exclamation of joy at a time like this! I'll tell you who! A SADISTIC SAVAGE – that's who!
After presenting these facts to local resident and victim, Tabitha Rockwool, she felt compelled to comment. I give you now her words, dear readers!
"I woke up one morning and went to go search for my cat Mr. Tibbles. Now, usually I'll find him out by the garbage cans, because he likes to guard them against raccoons, but that morning all I saw were flattened garbage cans. It didn't occur to me that our neighbors, who had been expecting company, might be in any way connected to this peculiar incident. Now, when I saw those cans flattened I got worried and was shrieking 'Mr. Tibbles where are you?' like there was no tomorrow. Finally I heard him meowing a short distance away – and don't you know I had to rush him over to the animal ward at St. Mungos because his tail was ironed straight out!"
And so you see, dear readers, Ernie is a dangerous predator. Beware if you are out at night, and if you're on the Knight Bus, don't get too close and don't look out the windows – or you may just find yourself in grim waters.
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A/N: Yay! Okay, so one chapter up and running – I do believe chapter 2 will involve Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart and an 'Ask Gilderoy' column. Review if you please, please do review: D