Exploding radishes.

When Luna paid the post parrot the two days later she gagged on her milk as she unfurled her copy of the Quibbler. On three-quarters of the front page was a photo of her in all her Hogwarts glory kit. The earrings, the butter beer corks and the loopy eyes all moved sideways slightly to make sure they were staring past the reader into vacant space. Choking back a cry of surprise she hastily scanned the heading and article underneath.

Looney Lovegood lies to get Muggle-Magic shop license

Luna Lovegood of 'Lovegood's Lockets', Darwin Street, is a mad woman. Mad and ambitious; a dangerous combination writes Quibbler correspondent Colin Creevey. She is a woman determined to destroy the peace that has existed between Muggle and Wizard communities since the Middle Ages with her ill-advised and stupidly approved Magic for Muggles high street store. Sleeping her way to the top dog in the ministry in order to get the go ahead for a licence, she now sells items such as Love potion, Cheering charmed earrings and bewitched key rings. We, at the Quibbler, wonder how far she will go before the ministry see fit to close her down and throw her in Azkaban. After all, what's next on her agenda? Murdering spoons perhaps… Strangling necklaces perchance…Or maybe she'll turn to stocking more potions as a dead giveaway to our existence.

Lovegood, or 'Looney' as her apt nickname goes, was known in her school days for being odd. Although we have nothing against odd people (Uric the Oddball was one of our best journalists) we fear that several influencing factors may have destroyed her sanity for once and for all. She refused to comment on her eccentric ways but threatened to stick Creevey's camera to him with a 'permanent sticking charm' if he didn't leave the shop in 'under five seconds'. Later we met her uncomfortable looking ex-lover John Bloc (Minister for Muggle Affairs) and asked him why, exactly, he signed the permission slip to allow such a calamity occur;

'I (loved) her'

For further details about Looney's sordid love affair with John Bloc's junior minister turn to page 2.

If you want to know more about Luna's loopy shop see page 6.

'You should feel sorry for Luna, she's mad and always has been' Columnist Lavender Brown gives the goss on Lovegood's schooldays. Pg 12

To read about Luna's family's alleged links with anti-ministry reformers please buy Quibbler on Sunday, the real story.

Luna felt the corners of her eyes pricking but told herself not to cry. It was only the Quibbler, just the stupid Quibbler. Everyone knew they printed rubbish anyway and no-one would believe it.

Somehow this made her feel even worse. Almost like she was denying her heritage in admitting that her Father's newspaper was a rag. Her daddy would never have let- but that brought back painful memories and a fresh wave of distress swept over her face. Turning and throwing the Quibbler angrily aside she left her breakfast dishes sitting on the table and ran upstairs to her room. Colin! It was Colin Creevey who had done this to her. He had pulled the oldest reporting trick in the book and she had fallen for it hook, line and sinker! Snarling she picked up her pillow and flung it across the room. Present for his Mother her ass; guys like Colin didn't have mothers.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Colin was at that moment yelling at the editor of the Quibbler;

'I never wrote any of this! Sleeping her way to the top…stocking strangling necklaces?.. How did you come up with this shit?'

Charles Lion, a sleek-haired, well-built former ministry employee was gazing passively over his fingertips at the livid Colin. When he replied it was in a peaceful voice, however it was a tone that brokered no argument.

'I write this 'shit' because it sells papers, Mr.Creevey. And you provided the article, we just elaborated and improved it. Believe me' he chuckled drolly 'it needed it; such substandard journalism would usually be cut out completely. But it had the makings of a good story and so we enhanced its finer qualities'

Colin opened his mouth to argue further but Lion silenced him with a wave of his hand and continued.

'Mr.Creevey I am sure you are aware that my predecessor and I had our differences over the way this paper was run. Firstly, he printed the most ridiculous stories that no-body wanted to read. Secondly, he put no effort into selling the paper just let the numbers fall and fall as his stories became more and more ludicrous. Thirdly, he didn't pay his writers any decent amount of gold so they all went to the Daily Prophet instead. But that's all changing now; The Quibbler is reaching a new era and going up-market to do so. If that involves dragging our ex-editor's daughter down off cloud nine in the process then so be it. I never liked the brat anyway and this is the kind of story that flies off shelves.'

Here he paused 'I'm assigning you lead reporter in this story as it was originally your idea. I expect you to work in tandem with my journalists to further the tale for tomorrow's edition. Oh, and a small bonus is in order I think'.

He pushed a small bag of galleons across the table 'Good day Mr. Creevey'. Colin couldn't bring himself to leave the gold there. Damn it! Where was his moral strength and courage when he needed it? Tucking the moneybag into his pocket he left the office in silence but not before he saw the small smirk on Charles Lion's face.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Luna felt herself lose control. It hadn't happened in years but her anger at herself built up to exploding point and furrowed deep grooves through the sensible part of her brain. She felt herself hyperventilating, and in the darkness heard the pounding hooves of Thestrals taking over her chest as the rug of her bedroom floor rose to meet her.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Colin was pissed off. He had been sending owls to Luna all day, growing more and more frustrated as each letter returned un-opened. Even the howler came back intact. Then, after a photographer on the case came back to report that Luna's shop was locked and her flat windows bolted he began to feel niggling concern. He hadn't really thought about what slandering her shop might do to her. In fact he was so concerned by the end of the day that he decided to pay her a visit personally, though he'd wait until after nightfall so as not to be spotted.

It was so dark when he had arrived on Darwin Street that even the yellowy lamp overhead wasn't illuminating much around it. The air was too cold for a summer night and the surrounding area too quiet for Colin's liking. He tried ringing the bell and then knocking on the window but to no avail. Looking around cautiously he sent his patronus discreetly under the door but still nothing happened. Eventually he tried Alohamora and the door opened smoothly revealing a set of stairs. Still not convinced that these wouldn't be burglar trapped he skipped the third step, the seventh step and then the twenty-first step just to be sure. As he approached the landing and second door he froze. Someone was moaning from behind the wall to his right. Speeding up to open the door he found this one to be jinx-proofed and kicked it in annoyance. The door swung open creakily and Colin, surprised, stepped inside.

A high pitched scream came from a door to his right and he barged into it, totally unprepared for what he might find inside. Luna Lovegood lay sprawled in the murky gloom of her bedroom, twitching and kicking as though fighting off some unseen force. Colin suddenly understood the darkness in the surrounding streets; Luna was emanating it in pain or despair. As he watched in shock from the doorway she rolled over arching her back in pain and lay motionless on her side. He thought she was dead. Then she moaned, 'Stop it, please stop it, please…' and started thrashing wildly again. Springing into action he lit a fire in her Muggle grate and summoned a healer from St. Mungos. Mercifully Luna had seen fit to attach her fireplace to the floo network making this possible but Colin wasn't sure how the healer was going to get out the other end. In the meantime he had been instructed not to touch Luna in case whatever was wrong was contagious by contact but he laid a hand on her arm anyway and was distressed by the deathly cold he felt.

It scared him. He, a Gryfindor, was terrified by the raw power he felt coming from the woman before him with her deathly pale face and rolling eyes. When the healers arrived by apparition and carried her away he was only too glad to go home again and curl up in his dark room with the red developing light on to try sleep but he couldn't rest. Every time he closed his eyes her eerily-beautiful, terrified face haunted him from behind the lids of shut blinds and broken doorways.

END Part three

AN: I know this isn't quite what I promised at the end of the last chapter but when I read over the second half of the part I wrote it was too sudden. It will perhaps come as a later chapter or maybe a sequel. I think this story works well where it ends now, what do you think?

All reviews have, I believe, been returned so far. Thank you for your encouraging comments and if you don't like this story then you may prefer to read my one about the Weasleys. I owe Mandy my reviewer (and fellow neopeter!) a virtual muffin for telling me what sort of animal invisibility cloaks are woven from (Demiguise hair) and I apologise to all people reading this for any inconvenience or horror that this sudden ending may or may not cause.

Thanks again,

Galleena