Disclaimer: Not her, not rich, bugger off.
Compendium of Dark Lords – Volume 6, by Sue. D. Nym.
Jerry Springer
Gerald Norman Springer, AKA "Jerry Springer" was born in London, UK on Feb. 13, 1944, to squib parents. He was educated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin) from the years of 1955 through 1962 before moving to the United States to begin a career as a politician and broadcaster, living as a muggle throughout much of this time.
Springer is best known in magical circles for perfecting a spell that can be transmitted through the airwaves, known as the "Electromagnetic Imperius". After its development, it was used in order to increase viewership to his program, otherwise considered a tawdry, vile testament to the profitability of pandering to the lowest common denominator, and also sending subliminal commands to a particular type of people, to cause them to sign up to be on his show as guests. The spells he used were particularly vile, as they targeted specifically those with secrets and shame – the more secrets and shame, the more compulsion felt.
After this compulsion was discovered, it was made a punishable felony in all countries that could receive the signal for a wizard or witch to watch any program produced or directed by him, but moreso, the governments that enforced these prohibitions successfully performed psychological operations to make those who admitted to watching his programs social outcasts and pariahs. In most countries, actually watching these programs will only lead to a small fine, if their enjoyment of these programs comes out into the open, they are treated worse than lepers.
United Kingdom law regarding watching Jerry Springer
Those who admit to or are caught watching Jerry Springer are subject to a fine of one thousand galleons. However, for repeat offenders, there is a little-known facility on an island in the North Sea not too far from the notorious Azkaban prison, where they may live out the rest of their days in relative isolation, free to indulge in their perverted fetishes without worrying the good folk of the mainland UK. In an unwarranted but magnanimous display of generosity by the magical government of the UK, it was intentionally designed to be a carbon copy of Cincinnati, Ohio, USA, where Springer was formerly mayor. It is thought that such a familiar environment will be helpful to their rehabilitation.
It is not known why, to a one, those who are sent there begin screaming in terror the minute they see the skyline...
Scene Break (and not a moment too soon, the author was getting ill himself).
In the Great Hall, Harry, Hermione, and Luna were sitting together at the Gryffindor table, chewing on their breakfast. McGonagall had told Luna to move to her own table, but this was a battle that Harry had one, after Hermione quoted chapter and verse from Hogwarts: A History proving that there was not only no rule against such fraternization, but that it was actually encouraged until recently – students only being required to sit at their house tables on days of feast and other special events.
McGonagall showed that she was a good sport about the whole thing by turning into a cat and walking back to the head table literally with her tail between her legs. She then turned back into a human, gave Hermione a little wink, and sat down at her table, stone-faced.
Fred and George Weasley started at her, awestruck. Gred looked at Forge with stars in his eyes.
"Gred, I'd never considered a teacher before, but that..."
"Forge, I regret to inform you that she is way out of your league."
"A pity, that, brother mine."
The table giggled at their antics. McGonagall pretended not to hear.
At that moment, owls flooded in with that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. For once, Harry, Hermione, and Luna were all utterly mystified as to why the room got deathly quiet, and every student and teacher who was reading all looked at Draco. He was confused until he read the paper as well. HIs face turned beet red, he stood up and stalked out of the hall.
They begged a paper off one of their schoolmates, and read the headline.
Lucius Malfoy arrested, admits to watching Jerry Springer. Also admits to murder, rape, theft, line theft, and jaywalking.
Dumbledore stood up.
"Students, may I remind you that the rules against bullying are still in full force."
Harry looked at his friends. "So what's wrong with Jerry Springer?"
The entire table looked at him.
"What?"
Finally one of the upper years took pity on him and explained, pointing him to the Compendium of Dark Lords, Volume 6 for further details. Hermione was pleased at the recommendation of another book to read. Luna, Hermione, and Harry chatted amiably throughout breakfast.
Hermione caught Neville giving her some sidelong glances, and pinked. Harry noticed as well. Luna just smiled. Harry spoke up.
"How is your wand working for you, Neville?", he asked, face carefully schooled to be innocent.
"Oh, the usual", Neville said. "I played with it for a while after Professor Tonks cast her spell, but it wasn't a whole lot better."
Harry smiled. "Perhaps Hermione would like to help you with your wand, Neville."
Hermione choked on a piece of bacon, and sputtered. "Wha-?"
Luna caught on. "Yes, Neville Longbottom, I'm pretty sure that Hermione is interested in helping you with your wand. I've caught her admiring it for a while now."
Hermione turned beet red.
Harry grinned. "Why Neville, I think Hermione would absolutely love to see if she can make your wand work better."
Luna piped up. "Just make sure to keep it away from her -"
Harry put a hand over her mouth very quickly. Luna fell silent. Harry looked at her with a warning note, and whispered into her ear, "Luna, don't take it too far. We're just taking the mickey out of her. Do you understand?"
Luna nodded, and harry took his hand off her mouth.
"- fanny!", Luna finished.
Harry dropped his head on the table. Hermione looked like she wanted to disappear through the floor. Neville just smirked. His wand could always use more attention. Either wand.
Ron was too busy eating to notice. Some things didn't change.
Scene Change
One interesting things about trials in the Wizarding world is that they did not need to be done with the participation of the accused. In the Muggle world, this was needed in order to get to the truth, but the Wizarding world had things like pensieves and veritaserum, and as long as the interrogations had been recorded well and there was no evidence of tampering, those could be accepted as testimony from the accused.
What this meant was that the trials for all of the accused death eaters were already under way. Amelia had also ordered the death eaters being stored in Azkaban to be recalled, and was also in the process of interrogating them as well.
With any luck they would all be through the veil by morning.
Those who were not death eaters – such as Fudge, Umbridge, and Skeeter, would be treated a little more leniently. She would still grant them the honor of a public trial, simply because she wanted the world to see what they had done. She also knew they likely would not get the veil, though Umbridge was likely to get sent to New Cincinnati. There were a few death eater loose ends, but most of those would be taken care of shortly.
There was one loose end that she was puzzled by, though. Sirius Black. He had been in Azkaban for many years, but she could find no record of an interrogation (this she expected), or a trial. Because trials had to be carried out in order to send someone to their fate, be it Azkaban, the veil, or (she shivered) New Cincinnati, this seemed to be an inexcusable loose end. She called the Prophet to get a full page ad asking him to come back to Britain to face interrogation and trial – safety guaranteed until after the trial.
If he turned out to be guilty he'd go through the veil too. But if not... if not, someone screwed up, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
Scene Change
Molly Weasley read through the letter that Minerva sent her again, her blood boiling just a little.
Arthur and Molly Weasley,
Please be aware that Hogwarts has instituted rules against antisocial behavior during terms, which includes bullying, namecalling, and demeaning of other students. Please also be aware that your son, Ron, violated these rules while they were being announced. We have informed him in no uncertain terms that this behavior is no longer acceptable and further violations will lead to escalating punishments, including, but not limited to, expulsion.
We wish to inform you as well that these rules also apply to the introduction of Howlers, by mail or otherwise, to the school, via owls or any other means. We feel that this is also a form of bullying, as the howlers can be heard by anyone, and also that such matters should be kept within the family – or at least those within natural earshot. We are aware that you have sent multiple howlers to the school in the years that you have had children here. We request that you cease and desist from doing this from now on.
Thank you for your time and consideration,
Prof. Minerva McGonagall
Molly showed the letter to her husband, mumbling all the way.
Arthur read the note.
"It's about time", he said.
"What?", she nearly yelled.
"It's about time. I have a hard time believing the headmaster allowed students to get away with what he did. It's about time it stopped."
"But... I can't send howlers anymore!"
"Mollywobbles", Arthur said, "has any howler you've sent ever made one lick of difference?"
Molly thought for a moment. "I'm going to send Minerva a howler!" She went for the red paper.
Arthur facepalmed, super-Picard style. This was not going to end well.
Scene Change
Amelia showed up at lunchtime with a couple of Aurors, and walked up to Snape.
"Severus Snape?"
Snape pulled out his wand. Amelia was faster. So were her Aurors.
"Stupefy."
Snape dropped.
"You're under arrest for having a dark mark."
The hall was dead silent.
The Aurors took Snape away. One kicked him unnecessarily.
Dumbledore rang his goblet.
"Potions for this afternoon are cancelled."
The Gryffindors cheered.
Dumbledore put his head in his hands.
He needed another pain relieving potion.
Harry found that he now had the afternoon free. He walked up to the head table.
"Do you have some time, Professor?"
"See in my office after lunch."
Harry nodded.
Scene Change
The composer birds (all of the different varities) were minding their own business, eating worms and singing fragments from their favorite composers, when suddenly a flash of red flamed in. One of the birds whistled a sound not unlike the "Red Alert" klaxon from Star Trek, and before you could say "Fawkes is a pervert", they were gone.
As it happens, Fawkes actually was a pervert, and that is why they were gone.
A BernsteinBird stuck around, and sang.
A boy like that, will bone your mother
Forget that boy, and find another,
One of your own kind, stick with your AAAAAWWWKK
It should have run while it had the chance.
A satisfied Fawkes flamed back a few hours later, shagged out after a prolonged squawk, and a BernsteinBird ruffled its feathers, wondering what kind of composer bird would come from a phoenix father.
Scene Change
Harry found himself once again in Dumbledore's office, politely refusing a lemon drop. Fawkes' stand was empty. Rays of sunshine were coming in through the large windows, though this time of year the sun was low in the sky.
"How can I help you, Harry?"
"I don't have to participate in the tournament anymore."
Dumbledore paused. With all of the events over the past few days, that hadn't occurred to him.
"I suppose you're right. Barty Crouch Jr. already lost its magic, and the goblet won't take yours now. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I was hoping you'd have a suggestion."
Dumbledore thought.
"Well, Harry, here's how I see it. On the one hand, you are still too young to participate in the tournament, and we only allowed it because you were forced by the goblet to participate. It would make perfect sense to say that since you are no longer required to participate in the tournament, you're no longer allowed to."
"But?", Harry prodded.
"But, you handled that first task in a way that not even I could have pulled off, accomplishing something not seen since Merlin, and you would have won too if it weren't for Bagman and Karkaroff trying to sabotage you. And, I suspect, you won't need to worry about Karkaroff shortly. I find myself wondering how you will handle the second and third tasks.
"Therefore, I'm going to leave it up to you."
"I'll have to think about it, Albus."
"You don't need to answer right away, Harry.
"There is a Yule Ball coming up. It has not yet been announced to the students – that will happen next week. I do ask that, whatever you decide, you attend the ball as a champion. I daresay after your performance in the first task, you've earned it."
Harry smiled. He didn't know how to dance, he didn't really want to go, but he knew a particular young Ravenclaw whose year it would make.
"Consider it done."
Dumbledore smiled. "And give young Miss Lovegood my regards when you ask her." He winked
Harry groaned. Albus may be old, but he didn't miss a trick.
"Also Harry, Professor McGonagall told me about an idea you had earlier. I think you're right. The time for exclusive common rooms – within certain bounds – is over. I'll be announcing some changes to policy tonight. I daresay young Miss Lovegood will appreciate those changes."
Albus smiled and leaned forward.
"Between you and me, Harry, I have yet to see a person walk through these halls in my many years on the faculty at Hogwarts that has a purer, lighter heart than Miss Lovegood. Treat her well, Harry."
Harry looked thoughtful and pinked up a little.
"Between you and me, Albus, I love her. I don't think I'm in love with her, not yet, but I love her. She is... beautiful."
They both knew Harry was not speaking of her appearance, though he thought that she was a moderately cute twelve year old – as twelve year olds go.
"I believe she loves you as well, Harry."
"I hope I don't do anything to wreck it."
"You won't, Harry."
Scene Change
Amelia took two aurors to the Durmstrang ship.
"Karkaroff. May I speak with you for a moment?"
Karkaroff yelled down at her from the ship's bow. "Are you here to arrest me?"
"Arrest you?", Amelia said, looking affronted. "Goodness no! I just want to talk."
Karkaroff still looked suspicious. "Well, alright then", he said. He came down the gangplank.
"Stupefy'.
He dropped.
"We talked. Now you're under arrest."
Operation Send All The Death Eaters Through The Veil was nearing completion.
A/N
Alright, a few things to cover. First off, I know some of you like Jerry Springer and his show. That's your right. I don't think less of you as a person. However, I am the exact opposite of a fan. My comment about "pandering to the lowest common denominator" is exactly how I feel. All that said, it is only intended as a joke, so if you are offended, please lighten up and enjoy the story, or go somewhere else. It's nothing to get riled up about.
I received an anonymous review about Dark Lord Springer that was so funny I was cracking up in the middle of the lunchroom at work, and I knew I had to do it. So thanks, anonymous reviewer. I know some might think I'm overplaying it, but again, my story, my rules, tyvm. I never claimed to be either a good writer or able to stop beating a dead horse.
Honestly, it would have been Dark Lord Justin Bieber instead if it hadn't been anachronistic. Maybe I should have done it anyway. What's an anachronism amongst friends on an increasingly cracky fic?
I have to admit, 25 years is a good run, even if the show itself plays on the worst humanity has to offer.
Tomorrow (story time) is the trip to Diagon Alley with Dumbledore. I wonder how that will go?
Fawkes really is incorrigible.
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