Please read and review!!
We've finally updated! Sorry it took so very long, but with school/sixth form/college starting again we didn't really have time – if you look in our updated profile though, you should see the excuses for us not updating – they are completely true! Who knew streaker's enjoyed rambles?
As you may have noticed, the top of the Chapters have changed, we were looking back at them and Chapter One looked extremely boring! So, to liven it up a bit, and entice people to read on, we've added issue numbers to each, and an extremely short paragraph explaining what its all about, because it did seem a little confusing, the way we immediately began the ads (confused me and I wrote it! – Padfoot) and you will also be able to read a helpful motto/piece of advice every week! – Although that's not a promise that we'll be able to update every week – but we'll try to be a bit more regular! Very sorry, but we get distracted easily!
By the way, Moony has a story up under the name of xBlackMoon-y, which is very good, even though she played a trick on me, I won't go into it now –feels strong urge to wreak revenge – Anyway, if you have time go over and have a peep at it! - Padfoot
We'll shut up now!
Thank you for all the lovely reviews!
Enjoy the story!
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ISSUE SEVENThis week's motto:
"If a cat always lands on its feet, and bread always lands butter side down, what would happen if you strapped a piece of buttered bread face up onto a cats back, then dropped it from a great height?" – just something I was wondering! Answers in a review please!
Are you lonely? Depressed? Unable to find a date?
Then fear not! The Daily Prophet, Lonely Hearts is here to help!
Just place an ad in the most popular of Wizarding newspapers and wait for the replies to come flooding in!
Escaped prisoners, Giants, and kinky ex teachers welcome!
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ARAGOG:
Editors Note: We received this advert as a fellytone call (Muggle thing); we weren't going to publish it, but then we were threatened with death by spiders if we didn't 'take their order' so we decided for the safety of the Lonely Hearts team - me - to publish it:
Aragog: Hello? Hello? ... Is this McProphets?
Editor: Um ... yeah, this is the Daily Prophet.
Aragog: What did you say? Bad connection. Anyway, I have rather a large order – Bertie! Bring me that menu! Yeah, the one we found on the man we had for dinner last week!
Editor: Gulp ...
Aragog: Right, I'll have four Weasley burgers, a Snape-steak – well done.
With a large Crabbe, and three lobsters, maybe a Goyle? ... hang on ... dear, would you like a Goyle?
Yes? Right, that'll be a Goyle for my wife – could you supersize that please?
Also, a side of Trelawney, with a Grawp-shake.
A potter nuggets, easy on the Harry.
700 Marauder meals for the little ones – with Marauder toys as well, something for them to play with after the meal – you know, the werewolf, dog, stag and that rat? I know its plastic rubbish but it keeps the kids amused.
Anyway, I'd also like 3 siriusly black, char-grilled steaks.
13 Butter beers – with the drunk naked house elf, please.
7 McFleurys, 30 cockroach clusters and some blood flavoured lollipops for desert I think.
Finally, could I have a beefy man – not a lot of neck, and a Petunia for my wife, delivered to the Forbidden Forest in 20 minutes.
That's all.
Editor: Okay ... Would you like fries with that?
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Don't ask me why I'm doing this. The D-Man told me to, which is a bit confusing in itself. When does he ever do homework?
Anyway, Dudley showed me the second issue of this paper, and if I have to go along with this, I suppose I would answer one...
Dud's cousin once described me as having a face like a rat. We beat him up after that, but it is a feature I'm sure this person would appreciate. I am also small and scrawny, and, from this person's advert, I can imagine that it would be a match made in heaven. Problem is, neither of us would be able to reach the doorbell...
This person said that he - I mean, they wanted someone who would be able to protect ... them. Well, although I'll admit i usually hold our victims' -ahem- enemies' arms behind their backs, I have watched the others, and I'm pretty sure I know how it's done ...
There's another strange thing about Big D - he's just come over to check that I'm really doing this, and asked me to write that he apologises for his dad, and to ask anyone interested in his advert that they are not put off by him, and that his dad is a softie really. (Since when has Mr Dursely come to school? And if Dud says that ... but it's just homework, isn't it? Hey! Dudley! Let go! I haven't fi -"&?
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ALASTOR 'MAD EYE' MOODY:
Editor: Er ... Good Morning? Wha-
Moody: Ssshhhh. I'm making sure the room is secure!
Editor: Okay. - Sigh -
Moody finishes his examination of the room taking care to overturn every piece of furniture, checking for Death Eaters.
Editor: You're very late ...
Moody: I know, I had to keep doubling back, in case I was being followed. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
Editor falls out of chair, but quickly rights himself.
Editor: Well - sounding flustered - Take a seat -
Moody: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!
Editor: What? I was only trying to shake your hand!
Moody: Aahhh, - looking sheepish - sorry, that happens quite a lot. Anyway, I'm looking for a woman who must not be a dark witch in any way – otherwise I'm afraid I will have to kill her -
Editor: Er ... Mr Moody? Perhaps that's not the best way to go about finding a woman?
Moody: Maybe you're right ... CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
Editor lets out a frightened squeal before toppling off his chair again.
Editor: What did you do that for?!
Mr Moody appears not to have noticed as he quickly removes a hammer from his robes and sets about destroying a rather pretty carriage clock on Editors desk.
Editor: What the hell are you doing! That's a gift from my mother!!
Moody: THAT'S NO GIFT! AS YOU'LL SEE, IT'S A CUNNINGLY DISGUISED BASILISK EGG!
Mr Moody finishes smashing up the clock and pokes through the wreckage with the hammer end, and, looking slightly sheepish, he hands the greatly upset Editor the remains of his one-of-a-kind, 4000-Galleon-worth carriage clock.
Silence descends upon the interview room. As Editor sits in shock, the silence is suddenly broken by:
Moody: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
Editor: I'm getting Arthur!
He flounces out of the room before returning with slightly balding Mr Weasley.
Mr Weasley: All right! Where are the dustbins?
Moody: Dustbins! I'll give that spy dustbins!
Mr Moody runs off down the corridor shouting: CONSTANT VIGILANCE! followed closely by Mr Weasley.
Editor returns to remains of carriage clock and weeps quietly.
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The current editor has had to check into St Mungos for a short while after a mild nervous breakdown, so we have employed a temporary new editor, never fear, and business will be going on as usual.
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NEVILLE LONGBOTTOMNeville: Um, hello?
The chair behind the desk turns slowly.
Temporary editor: Morning, Longbottom.
Neville: P-p-p-profess-
Editor: We haven't got all day. Begin.
Editor fixes Neville with a piercing glare.
Neville: Um, well, I thought I might, you know, advertise for - of course, I know not many people would want to, so I'm not expecting anything, but I still thought ...
Editor tuts loudly and drums his fingernails on the desk.
Neville, flustered: Yes, well, um, I'd like someone, if they would like to spend some time with me ... yeah, someone who's nice and clever and who can help me with my school work, sometimes, you know -
The door opens, and Hermione enters, with tattered robes, and nursing her arm.
Hermione: That is the LAST time I EVER agree to come along with that stupid son of a -
Editor: Do you really want to finish that statement, Miss Granger?
Hermione: Professor!
Neville risks a fleeting glance at Hermione, and there follows an uncomfortable silence.
Editor: Is there anything else, Miss Granger? Or are you here to reply to Longbottom's - shall we say - "advert"?
Hermione: NO! I mean, not today ... I think I ... left my bag up here.
Hermione looks around aimlessly.
Hermione: But while I'm up here, any woman who has Neville for a boyfriend is extremely lucky because he's so nice and generous and sweet and kind and sensitive -
Editor: So why did you turn him down at the Yule Ball, exactly, Miss Granger?
Hermione, tactfully ignoring him: So, have you seen my bag?
Editor: Is this it?
He gingerly holds up a violently pink bag, emblazoned with 'I love Lockhart' with a look of intense disgust on his face.
Hermione goes red.
Hermione: Yeah, that's it. I mean, I'm looking after it for ... er ...Mrs Weasley! I'd better go, then, and - erm - return it.
Hermione turns to leaves hurriedly, still blushing.
Neville and Editor are left alone in the office; Editor reaches into a draw of his desk and lifts out a tangled mass of black metal stained with a purple liquid, which looks as though it used to be a cauldron.
Neville: Gulp
Editor: I think we need to have a little talk Longbottom ...
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HARRY POTTER
Harry walks in nervously, the small smile on his lips quickly changing to one of disgust as he observes the editor, seated behind his desk, currently examining his nose from all angles, Harry's disgust quickly turns to laughter as Editor experiments with a pink ribbon, securing his dark hair in a ponytail.
Harry: Ahem
Editor jumps pulling ribbons from his hair and sweeping them, along with the mirror into a drawer. With a look of loathing on his face he turns to the interviewee as if nothing had happened:
Editor: Well, look who it is, should have known you'd have to resort to newspaper ads to get a girl.
Harry: I did read your ad in Issue One, Professor, but it looks like no-one else did. What are you doing here anyway?
Editor: Teaching isn't the best-paid job in the world Potter, even your tiny excuse for a brain must realise that, and there is the added feeling of satisfaction when I stop people like you from inflicting their company on the world.
Harry: Really, I thought it was because you were saving up for a nose job?
Editor shifts uncomfortably on his seat:
Editor: Get on with it Potter
Harry: Nah, I think I'll come back when there's a competent Editor here, you know, one that knows how to wash his hair.
Harry walks out of office, hands in his pockets whistling happily.
Editor: Remember that two-foot essay on Polyjuice potions, I still live in hope I will get some work to the standard of a five year old from you!
Harry says something unintelligible
Editor: Detention and fifty points from Gryffindor for that disgusting language! And no you cannot come to mine and Sybil's wedding! – I mean ... it doesn't matter anyway, cause we're not having one!
Editor grips arms of chair tightly as Harry singing 'Here comes the Bride' drifts up the corridor.
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I hope everyone worked out who the 'temporary editor' was? If you didn't then re-read it till you do! The clues were pretty obvious though!
Chapter Eight will be coming soon! It's devoted to everyone who reviews! And once again sorry for the lack of updates in the last 3 ½ weeks!
Ojk, spattergroit,
P.P,M.