To all those who've come here from 'Together', thank you sooo much for your feedback, and I really wish I could continue, but I'm afraid I won't be able to. However, here's a fic that should hopefully turn into a series.
There are no OotP spoilers in this.
DISCLAIMER: Oh everybody knows. JKR's is JKR's, Revti's is Revti's.
Back at Hogwarts after Christmas, Ron proudly hauled out a small black square box with a crude mouth drawn on it from his trunk. "Radio," he informed Harry. "Charlie sent it to me. We have one at home, but it's extremely old, and after ten minutes of listening the sound fades away."
"Oh cool," Harry said. He'd never heard the WWN that he kept hearing students talk about. "Turn it on, let's see."
Ron fiddled with a tiny dial, and a golden aerial emerged from the top. The box contracted, and ripples passed through it. Ron set it down on the table.
The mouth shape opened under the aerial, and a voice loudly echoed around the dormitory.
"Welcome, welcome, to all those who've just tuned in, welcome to the Wizarding Wireless Network! My name is Bartholomew Wolfgang Richard Abercrombie, Bart for short, and I'll be taking you through 'til 5 o'clock. Coming up in the next hour: special interview with Glenn Tourn, Chaser and Captain of the Chudley Cannons--"
"Oh, oh!" said Ron excitedly.
"-- great music, exclusive premiere of 'Get your broomstick and get out' by the Weird Sisters, owl post, and lots more! So stay tuned! But, before that, here's a quick word from our sponsor, the Comet Trading Company."
"Hear hear, all you Quidditch fans, now you can pull off those cool moves you see in League matches too! The new Comet 300 incorporates amazing acceleration- naught to seventy-five in ten seconds, and is crafted by the bext wizards in the business. It has never-before control, allowing you to turn 180 degrees in 2 seconds, giving you that extra edge over your Quidditch buddies! Just send in an order by owl post, along with 40 galleons, to The Comet Trading Company HQ, Diagon Alley, London."
"Thieves, oh they're thieves," said Ron, pulling his homework towards him. "40 Galleons! You can get a decent Cleansweep for 20."
"Er, okay, if you say so," Harry said. Considering he'd never bought a broomstick in his life, he wasn't really with the prices and features thing.
"Of course, Cleansweeps really don't give that much control, but they're faster and hardier too... Depends, of course, on what position you're playing... For a Keeper a Comet's best, because you don't really need much speed, and for Chasers too, since you need to keep the control, Seekers of course prefer Cleansweeps because of the speed..."
By the time Ron's chattering died down, it was halfway into a song, that apparently was about a house-elf's attachment to home and master.
"Oh these clothes... keep away those clothes...
For Kirry wants to serve you... for ever more...
Wash and cook and clean and sweep,
So that master has a lovely place to sleep..."
They looked at each other and grinned. "Why do I think Hermione'd be having fits if she heard this?"
"Time for our first owl message of the day... This one's from Madam Monks, Hey Bart, it's my son's birthday today, and I'd just like to wish him a very happy seventy years, and hope that he'll have seventy more, like his mater. There never was anyone like him for Soothing Draughts. And oh yeah, can you please stop playing that Weird Sisters rubbish? It really hurts my ears. Can't we have more of some of that Muggle jazz you played the other day? My Kneazle really liked it."
"Well well, Madam Monks, I'm afraid the Weird Sisters are extremely popular, I can't not play them. Wishing your son a very happy seventieth birthday. Here's a song about the good old days."
"Let's write them, Harry!" said Ron excitedly, as a sad refrain rather like Augurey song began. "We can get our messages in by the end of the show!"
Harry stared down at the homework he was supposed to be doing. "Name seven uses of a bezoar." Snape would kill him.
He grabbed a parchment, scribbled a message, and tied it to Hedwig's leg, while Ron tied his message to her other leg.
"WWN HQ," Ron told her. "Go quickly. As fast as possible."
Hedwig hooted and set off through the window.
"And now we have, our guest of the day, Glenn Tourn of Chudley Cannons fame! Hello Glenn, welcome to the show."
"Ron, you need to start breathing again," Harry advised.
"Oh right." Ron sucked in a deep mouthful of air.
"Hello Bart. How's life?"
"Excellent, excellent. Now tell me, the one question on everybody's mind... When are the Cannons going to come back and win a significant game?"
"The next one against the Caerhilly Catapults is in our pocket," said Glenn confidently.
"Why did you join the team six years ago, Glenn, when you could have had your pick of any number of teams? The Montrose Magpies, for example, tried really hard to sign you up. Why did you ignore arguably the best team to join one, that is, frankly, considered by serious Quidditch fans to be something of a joke?"
"Joke, my foot!" hissed Ron angrily. "Show him, Glenn!"
"Well Bart, joining the Magpies and winning regularly isn't much of an achievement. I wanted to turn Chudley's luck around, and I took it up as a challenge. Besides, since childhood, the Cannons have been my very favourite team."
"Well Glenn, what did you think of the bumphing incident in last week's match against the Falcons?"
"The Falcons are a nasty, cheating team, who don't hesitate at anything to win matches! At least we at the Chudley Cannons are true sportsmen, who believe in fair play. I cannot believe that Mark Armstrong actually expected us to believe that his aim went awry when he hit that Bludger. And of course, my sincerest regards to Hilda Brown and her family, I hope she recovers soon."
"Are you referring to the spectator who got hit?"
"Yeah, her."
"Heidi Green."
"Right, whatever."
"And you believe that without that incident you would have won that match?"
"Absolutely. We were 10-140 at that point, and if Giles had caught the Snitch after that, we'd have won."
"Er, okay. Do you support stricter penalties for fouls?"
"Yes. If the punishment is higher, players will be more careful about fouling."
"Any message for fans?"
"Yes. Let's all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best."
"Right, thanks a bunch Glenn, for giving us your precious time. And best of luck against the Catapults."
"Thanks Bart. Nice being here."
"Well people that was Glenn Tourn, Chaser and Captain of the Chudley Cannons. Let's take a commercial break, we'll be back in four minutes. Drop those wands and keep listening."
Harry tuned out the Comet ad, and came back halfway through an advertisement for 'Dear Madam Marie.' "Dumped by your boyfriend? Want to get back at a two-timing friend? Can't stand your parents? Tune in to 'Dear Madam Marie' every day from 7-8 pm, and get practical and unique solutions to all your relationship problems! Hosted by the great, the inimitable Marie Joan Ross!"
"Hey people, welcome back. As promised, we have more owl mail here.... Hey Tourney, Chudley's the dumps, you all deserve to rot in hell. And, Bumphing should be made legal. It gives zing to the game. Frederick W. Then there's Bart, I love you, marry me. That one must be from Eliza March, my greatest fan. She proposes to me every show. Sorry Eliza, I remain a one-witch wizard. I'd like to inform Horton Fitzgerald that he's a double-crossing old git, and I'm on to him. Watch your mail, Horton. Everybody compliments me on my mailable hexes. That one's anonymous. I think I can safely advise Horton Fitzgerald to watch his back. I wonder who that was from...? A cheated girlfriend? A deceived business partner? A betrayed friend? Anyway, I'm going to leave you with the exclusive radio premiere of 'Get your broomstick and get out' by the Weird Sisters. Here's an owl treat for you... Maryann of the Weird Sisters is currently involved in her sixth divorce from a Muggle she married a year ago. She says that no wizard has spunk enough to be her man. Anyway..."
Deafening rock issued from the radio, only it seemed to have a lot of strange instruments, including banshee shrieks.
"You make me sick,
You really are the pits...
Get out, get out, get out,
Or I'll blow you to bits!"
Harry met Ron's gaze and raised his eyebrows. "Well that's one witch I wouldn't want to get involved with," he grinned.
"Here we have two more messages from fans... This one's from er, Ron Weasley of Hogwarts, Hello Mr Tourn, I just want to say that you're absolutely fabulous, and I know you're going to win the League next time, no matter what anybody else says. I'm your number one fan, you know. I'll never stop supporting the Cannons. Go Chudley! And here's one from, sweet Circe, Mr Harry Potter. Hi Bart, first time I'm listening to wizard radio. It's really great, better than the Muggle one. I was just wondering, could you tell me the seven uses of a bezoar? It's for my Potions class, my professor would kill me (he really would) if he knew I was listening to radio while I could've been doing my homework. So, please?"
"Real smart, Harry," Ron mouthed.
"Why sure Mr Potter! As far as I can remember, the first use is as a Divination crystal, my aunt also used to use it as a talisman against vampires, and er... I'll have to get back to you on that one... All you listeners who know the uses of a bezoar, do write in before the show ends!"
"What a git," sighed Ron.
"We're going to take a news break now... But I'll be back in no time at all, playing more of your music. Stay tuned. This is Bart on the WWN."
"I wonder if the WWN's less prejudiced than the Daily Prophet," said Harry thoughtfully.
"Good evening all you witches, wizards and Squibs, my name is Candy Cameron," said a honey-voiced witch.
"The top most item in today's news, is, of course, the great cauldron exposition being held off Diagon Alley. Crowds thronged the place, which has a never before selection of pewter and gold cauldrons. The cauldrons on sale included various sizes, shapes, designs and thicknesses. Says Madam Marsh, "I always needed a thick cauldron for my Scouring solution, because it used to burn right through the ordinary one. I've searched high and low, only to find it right here at Diagon Alley at the expo." According to Warlock Fanges, "My son used to pester me for a solid gold cauldron for his various alchemy experiments, and I found one here at a ridiculously cheap price." The exposition is on for another week, so make your way to Diagon Alley soon.
"Also, Madam Hortense has applied for a patent for a new Quill, which she claims transcribes of its own accord, and is offering it at a special discount to students who don't want the bother of taking notes in class. Ministry officials have yet to verify her claim, although an annoyed-looking one told a WWN reporter that it sounds highly unlikely. Madam Hortense is quoted as saying that it's a legal, non-offensive version of the Quick Quotes Quill that is frequently used by unscrupulous reporters. That's all for today's news."
"They couldn't be bothered with the earthquake in Africa, could they?" said Harry darkly. "What about the brewing anarchy in South America? Oh no, Self-transcribing Quills are more important."
Ron gave him a sympathetic look, "Some of it is really rather frivolous."
"Get rid of those irritating Horklumps! Make your needles knit stunning patterns! Are you despairing of ever getting your cleaning spells right? Keep your ears peeled for Madam Emily's Household solutions at 5 o'clock."
"Well come on, give me the uses of a bezoar!"
"Hi and welcome back. I'm Bart and you're listening to the WWN. Time for for owl post... The WWN is not a homework channel, Harry Potter. Use the library. And here's a helpful one... A bezoar is used as an antidote to most poisions."
"Yeah thanks, I already knew that," Harry mumbled.
"I'd like to dedicate the next song to my husband Rory, we celebrate our anniversary today. From Sharon. Okay Sharon, here's the next song for you and your husband, 'You're all I have' by the Dancing Dervishes."
Harry sighed and rose. "Library time, I think."
