The mountains are illuminated by the light of a hundred wands. Our little town is lit, too, by a monstrous green skull with a snake for a tongue...

Welcome to Hogsmeade.

The Daily Prophet has announced that they will be cutting back their publication schedule to Monday through Thursday only, due to the economic downturn and the widespread murders of their readership. The Thursday Prophet will now be called the Weekend edition, and on Sundays, owls will deliver instead potted plants filled with Devil's Snare. When asked why Devil's Snare, the Prophet's senior correspondent Rita Skeeter said, "We have been charged with ferreting out the traitors."

Here at the undisclosed wizarding wireless station it's lease negotiation season with the landlord again! That's always an interesting time. Now, obviously, I can't go into detail, but negotiation is tricky because my landlord happens to be a Boggart. This creature stays inside his locked cabinet at all times, only communicating with me through sealed envelopes that are spat out from under the cabinet door like a pumpkin seed through teeth. Then, in order to respond, you just sort of shout at the closed door and hope he or she hears. Sometimes you can hear the wardrobe rattling, banging against the wall, with strange shadowy tendrils slipping beneath the door. Architecturally speaking, the apparent size of the cabinet does not physically make sense given the size of the room in which it resides, but it's hard to say really, as this may be the work of undetectable extension charms.

The Death Eaters have asked me to remind everyone about the new drive to clean up litter. Hogsmeade is our home. And who wants trash all over their home? Keep it outside our city, where it belongs. And if you see any Mudbloods littering the streets, Avada Kedavra them, and vanish the bodies! Do your part. Unless the filth is a known Undesirable. The Death eaters have asked me to remind you that any top-ranking Undesirables are not to be approached. Remember the slogan: Common Mudblood filth? Common killing curse. Undesirable number one? He belongs to the Dark Lord.

Listeners, we are currently fielding numerous reports that books have stopped working. It seems that all over Hogsmeade, books have simply ceased functioning. The Order of the phoenix are studying a mangled diary to see if they can understand just what is going on here. The exact problem is currently unclear, but some of the words being used include "horcruxes," "basilisk fang," and "violation of the deepest laws of magic." For your own safety, please do not attempt to open a book until we have more information on the nature and cause of these problems. The Death Eaters have released only a brief statement, indicating that their stance on books has not changed, and that, as always, they believe that books are dangerous and inadvisable, and should not be kept in private homes.

Another warning for Hogsmeade residents. Sources say that the Hog's Head on the main road is a front for Dumbledore's Army. This is based on extensive study of the Floo Network, and also because it has a regular traffic of dozens of underage students a day; fairly unusual for one of the Daily Prophet's Seven Most Disgusting and Inadvisable Dining Establishments In Britain. I sent a house-elf, Kreacher, to try ordering a butterbeer, and have not heard back from him for several weeks. Which brings me to a related point. The the noble and most ancient house of Black: we regret to inform you that your elf was lost in the line of wizarding radio duty, and that he will be replaced shortly. May you all feel fortunate to have the servants that you have, and if you're looking for butterbeer, check out the Three Broomsticks right over by Hogsmeade station. The Three Broomsticks is only a front for the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, so it can be completely trusted.

Two omniocular-carrying listeners sent in reports that Harry Potter, our curious rebel visitor, was seen getting his beautiful, beautiful hair cut. He was having his gorgeous hair shorn! Cut! Cut short! So very short from his brilliant, beautifully shaped head. Listeners, I am not one to gossip even if it is a local celebrity, but please explain to my why Potter would strip away, decimate, any part of his untidy black hair—not to uncover the iconic, if telltale scar on his forehead. What treacherous barber should agree to such depravity? Who takes mere money, or even soulless joy, in depriving our small community of such a simple, but important act as luridly admiring Potter's stunning coif? Reports from two intrepid sources are that it was the Mudblood Granger. Granger, who likes house elves, and has posters of Gilderoy Lockhart. Granger seems to be the one who has betrayed our community. Hermione Granger. It is Granger at the corner of Madame Puddifoot's and the owl post, with the shabby tent and the jar of bluebell flames outside. Granger is about five foot four with extremely bushy hair. She talks very fast, and lectures on "Hogwarts, A History." Granger cut Potter's beautiful hair. According to reports. Granger.

And now an editorial.

I don't ask for favors much, listeners, that you know, but I'm asking all of you right now to conduct a letter writing campaign to my landlord, who was not pleased with my discussion of his or her confinement to a cabinet, and is now threatening to shut down my show—or possibly, my life. For good. The wording was... kind of ambiguous. Obviously I will not be able to deliver the letters directly to the Boggart per say, as no one has ever opened that cabinet door, but I can shout the content of the letters outside the cabinet and, I presume, given an anatomy that includes ears, he or she will be able to hear what you have to say. So if you like this show, and you want to hear more of it, then I need to hear from you. Make your voice heard to whatever it is that lies in wait behind that darkened cabinet door.

-dramatic crashing-

Oh! Um, I'm sorry listeners—We'll be back after this word from our sponsors.

This segment has been brought to us by Honeyduke's Confectioners. Listeners, we are proud to have Honeyduke's as a sponsor of our show. You will not find a better candy shop in all of Hogsmeade than Honeyduke's. Just the other night I stopped by Honeyduke's. I was in the mood for some delicious fizzing whizbees, and since Honeyduke's is the only candy shop in Honeyduke's that has not been burned to the ground in an unsolved arson case strikingly similar to the fate that befell Florean Fortescue, and did I mention, is also the best candy shop in town, I ordered a whole box. And boy was I satisfied. I hovered all the way to the ceiling immediately. And I couldn't get down for hours! I have been told that even the Death Eaters frequent Honeyduke's; the owners look like they avert their terrified gazes quite a bit. Even the Dark Lord offers his ringing endorsement of Honeyduke's. All Hogsmeade citizens are mandated to eat Honeyduke's candy once a week. It is a punishable offense not to. Honeyduke's confectioners. No one does acid pops like Honeyduke's, folks! No one.

And now listeners, the weather.

-muffled crashing and groaning-

Hello listeners. I come to you from under my desk, where I have dragged my wooden wireless, and am currently hiding in the fetal position. Did you write letters? Then you should not do this anymore. The Boggart has opened the cabinet for the first time in my memory, and is now roaming the building. I don't know exactly what the Boggart looks like, as that is when I took cover under my desk, and I can only hope that he or she is not listening to what's going out right now or else I may have sealed my fate. I can hear only a kind of clicking footstep, and a faint hissing sound like releasing steam. A house-elf went to see what the Boggart wanted and has not returned. If you are related to Winky the elf, afternoon fact checker here at Hogsmead community radio, I am sorry to inform you that she is probably dead or at least corporally absorbed into the Boggart permanently. Winky and Kreacher the elves will be missed, but we will surely see them in the Halloween Dead Slaves Impersonation contest, which this year will be in the Inn above the Three Broomsticks from 11am until 9:45pm –light sob- There will be a cash bar and two chess boards –sharp inhale- I am going to see if I can make a break for the door. If you don't hear from me again, I have been overtaken by whatever mortal fear the Boggart has conjured. Good night Hogsmeade. And goodbye!


A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Apologies for massive delays. Posting a few chapters now to make up for it. Cheers!