"Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine."

Lord Byron

A/N

Okay, so this totally got away from me and I've no idea what happened. If you like it, great! If not, well, my bad...

The lyrics utilised within this chapter are from the 'Movie Villian Melody' parody composed by Jon Cozart.

Anything recognisable is not mine and belongs to whoever respectfully owns it.

Absolute CRACK! Please, oh please, do NOT take this seriously. No offence is intended, I just have a very strange taste in music and mind...

Disclaimer: no-one - and I mean NO ONE - but Jeff, Rita, and the 'bag' were harmed in the making of this scene. But I promise you, they 666% deserved it.

The morning after the battle at the Department of Mysteries...
The Veil Room

Deep within the bowls of the Ministry of Magic, within the twisting and ever-changing corridors of the Department of Mysteries, artificial light filtered in from sources unknown and succeeded to cast eerie shadows upon the stone floor of the Veil Room. The aftermath of the chaotic battle the night prior had left the chamber in a far better condition than the destruction of what one could have only assume such an astounding and awe-inspiring fight would cause. Scattered debris and scorch marks that one could have envisioned to mar the walls were not present, and the once unnerving energy that had always been emitted from the arched gateway...?

Just what in Merlin's name had happened here?!

Yet, and within this mysteriously sparkling chamber, Master-Healer Dora Skilly moved with a sense of purpose, her crisp white robes billowing around her ankles as she strode towards one of the more secluded corners of the room and wherein her partner was already waiting for her. The medi-witch carried a case of potions, her wand tucked securely up her sleeve, and accompanied by an air of determination, even as the early morning 'light' revealed the weariness that was etched deeply into her features.

As she approached her partner, along with the witch who sat propped up in an ornate chair at his side, however, Skilly noticed that the woman's gaze was somewhat vacant, and she was drooling as if she'd become lost to a world of her own making, continuing to just stare blankly ahead. Her eyes were dilated, flickering left and right with an unsettling emptiness, and it was clear to the Healer that whoever the woman was, she'd become trapped in some kind of catatonic state.

Skilly's partner, Agent Felix Muddler, wore a determined expression, and was quick to inform the witch of what was required of her; Muddler never one to 'beat around the bush'. "We need to confirm if Legilimency can be used," he explained. "She was discovered inside the Department, yet was not a part of the conflict, and our boss wants to know everything she's seen and done."

The medi-witch just nodded her head in understanding; Skilly's gaze already focused on her patient. With a sense of apprehension, she drew her wand and begun the necessary diagnostic spells to determine the extent of the woman's condition. Her wand danced through the air as spells were cast in a delicate choreography of light and sounds.

Yet, and as the spells revealed all before Skilly's trained eyes, her brows furrowed in mild intrigue. "It looks as though her mind is still active," she observed, her voice a hushed murmur as she continued to read the runes appearing in the air before her eyes. "But she seems to have lost the ability to communicate verbally. She is, however, aware of her surroundings - of you and me."

"That's what we suspected," Muddler replied with a smile that was more akin to a grimace. "Sinner says she was found in here, standing too close to the Veil's boundary. It was as if she'd witnessed something... unimaginable, and it-"

"Resulted in her comatose state," Skilly finished with a thoughtful nod, even as she completed her scans, exploring the pathways of her newest patient's mind. "It's rather remarkable," she commented somewhat airily after a moment, "The trauma, whatever it was, seems to have severed her ability to communicate completely, but all her cognitive functions are still intact. It's if she's become trapped within her own thoughts."

Her partner could only lean in with a thoughtful frown, his gaze shifting to the catatonic woman. "Reminds me of a certain couple," he muttered before shaking his head and continuing with his job. "We need to understand what she saw. If Legilimency can be used, then maybe we could also remove those memories. She may be our only witness to... well, whatever the hell we've been called in to investigate."

"Does no one know?" Skilly questioned with half an ear, completing her scans before turning to her partner and told him, "It's my professional opinion that Legilimency can be used. The patients memories and thoughts should be accessible for extraction by a Master Legilimens. Though I must caution, it may be emotionally distressing for her."

Her partner's expression tightened with resolve. "Sinner's given me permission to be the Master Legilimens on duty. He's determined to figure out what happened. Don't worry, I'll proceed with caution, Dora," Muddler added, seeing the concern on his partner's face at the thought of him being the one to enter the patient's mind. "You know I'll be as gentle as possible."

With that being said, and not giving Skilly a chance to argue, Muddler put himself before the catatonic woman, his wand appearing in his raising hand before he whispered the spell that would let him slip inside her mind. And as his metal presence touched upon the patient's, it was as if an ethereal bridge had been formed between them.

"What's your name?" the wizard called across the expanse, utilising the usual line of questions any Unspeakable would partake upon after encountering a Jane Doe as a way to try and strengthen the link between their minds. And much to Muddler's delight, the catatonic witch's mental voice echoed weakly back to him through their link, allowing him to strengthen their connection as he grasped onto the memories the name brought with it.

"Rita Skeeter."

The revelation of exactly who's mind he was currently searching through had a shiver trickling down Muddler's spine, however.

Rita Skeeter, the infamous and unscrupulous journalist, had been the witch his boss had discovered within the Veil Room?

The implications that such information brought to the forefront of Muddler's mind were unsettling to say the least. Yet he ignored his disgust and unease as he delved deeper into Skeeter's memories, exploring the fateful events that had rendered the reporter utterly incapacitated. His presence became nothing more than a silent observer within the witch's recollections, quietly witnessing the surreal and unpredictable battle that had unfolded within the Department of Mysteries very own halls.

Images flickered before the wizard's ey-

Is that Darth Vader clashing with Harry Potter?

And who the hell is the guy with the rather nasty scars on his face creating chaos with Voldemort's Death Eaters?

Wai-wait?! Is that Jeff, taking part in a rap battle?

Agent Felix Muddler had to pull away from the memories to allow his mind a second to settle before he was once more back diving through the chaos Rita Skeeter had borne witness to. And as he watched the vivid memories through the mental connection he held with the reporter, a sense of both curiosity and unease filled him. Muddler was glimpsing upon events that should not have been possible, from the perspective of a witch who was infamous for her sensationalised accounts of the Wizarding World.

As the Legilimency session continued, Muddler couldn't help but wonder how Rita Skeeter, of all the people, had ended up in the midst of this otherworldly confrontation. He also couldn't help but ponder upon just how many of Skeeter's stories had actually been fact, yet were discarded as fiction by the wider wizarding populace - and how lucky said populace was because of their disregard.

Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix VS Voldemort's and his most loyal Death Eaters - as witnessed by Rita Skeeter; Prophet Journalist and Unregistered Animagus.

Master Legilimens responsible for gathering these memories: Agent F. Muddler of the Department of Mysteries.

In the shadowy and inscrutable Department of Mysteries, I, the brilliant and daring Rita Skeeter, had found myself in the most extraordinary of situations. You see, I, the most resourceful and talented journalist of none other than the great Daily Prophet, had managed to sneak into the bowls of this mysterious branch within the Ministry - and it was all thanks to my ever-reliable Animagus form; a teensy, weensy beetle.

Oh, the secrets and stories that awaited my most favoured quill!

For you see, within this dimly lit department of our very own Ministry, chaos did reign supreme as Harry Potter, the very Boy-Who-Lived himself - along with his friends - faced off with none other than You-Know-Who's most loyal followers - Death Eaters!

Yet, and as I watched what I thought would be a tense and serious battle, I instead found myself baring witness to something so absurd and utterly bizarre that I swore I'd have to admit myself to St Mungo's.

What in Merlin's name had I stumble upon?

CHAOS!

Utter, pure, chaos; the likes you can't even begin to imagine.

It was a spectacle of absolute absurdity and complete eccentricity that I knew it would surely make headlines across not only Britain, but the entire Wizarding World. And as I continued to cling to the fringes of the spectacle, all unaware of my minute presence, it was as if reality had taken a day off and left nothing behind but a carnival of madness.

The chamber wherein this insanity unfolded was one where a peculiar arch stood at its centre, one that I felt I should know of, yet could not recall. The air was filled with some weird, floating orbs that shimmered with unique points in time; items I was sure were not only magical, but also highly important. Though, and without a care in the world, I was helpless to watch on as these orbs were turned into mere playthings for the combatants I had found myself amongst.

Lucius Malfoy himself, the very epitome of Pureblood society, was casting his dark spells with fervour. Purple fire, whimsical jellyfish, and even living tarantulas surged towards a young Harry Potter. Yet, and much to my astonishment, those eight-legged freaks, instead of attacking much like my horrified mind had thought they would, they begun a breathtakingly coordinated dance routine - complete with top hats and canes.

I would have bet my quill that they'd been taking lessons...

Their routine did seem to have something to be desired, however, as a young Mister Weasley suddenly went screaming from the room, his arms flailing above his head as he spewed some nonsense about not waiting around for the basilisk... whatever that was supposed to mean. I didn't have time to figure out, as the next thing I knew, poor Ronald had ended up head-first inside a large tank filled with-

Oh, by Merlin above!

Are those brains?!

In the heart of this arcane department, however, the bizarre dance of the tarantulas and - brain? - tanks was just the tip of the wand. Bellatrix Lestrange... was wearing a pink and purple polka-dotted emu suit?

The deranged witch - something of which Azkaban had been no help with, what so ever it seemed - was twirling and pirouetting around the room; wand in her hand as she cast spell after spell; Patronus after Patronus. Yet, and as each seemingly 'light' spell was cast, a flock of misty shapes took form.

Flamingos!

Bright pink, flamboyantly graceless, flamingos.

These ethereal creatures were not merely illusions, either. No, these birds believed themselves to be genuine, and by the heavens above, did they squawk and flap their incorporeal wings, inadvertently crashing into walls and, much to my horror, shattered several of the delicate glass orbs that housed such mysterious points in time.

As the shards of these orbs rained down above the deranged witch, Bellatrix herself waltzed with a sentient suit of armour. However, the room's magical properties had begun to take over, distorting time and space. The phantom armour she twirled with transformed in rapid succession, each time revealing a different historical figure from the past.

First, a dashing figure with a regal bearing appeared, and it took me a moment before I immediately recognized him as King Louis XIV. His powdered wig and elaborate coat added a touch of extravagance to the already absurd dance, and as Bellatrix waltzed gracefully with the Sun King, her maniacal laughter echoing through the chamber.

Then, with a flicker of enchantment, Catherine the Great glided into the dance, her empress's attire and powerful presence adding a touch of imperial splendour. The scene became a whirlwind of aristocratic grace and lunacy as Bellatrix and Catherine danced through the ages, and I found myself watching on entirely entranced.

A sudden shift in tempo brought Genghis Khan into the fray, his fierce demeanour clashing hilariously with Bellatrix's madness. They leaped and twirled, and I was aghast to find that a chuckle had managed to escape my lips as the infamous conqueror joined the dance.

In an unexpected twist, William Shakespeare made an appearance, wearing a ruff and holding a quill. He eloquently recited lines from his plays while twirling with Bellatrix, adding a touch of literary absurdity to the bizarre spectacle.

As the dance continued, with Bellatrix twirling through time and history, each of her partners becoming more unexpected than the last; as the chamber filled with the remnants of shattered orbs and the ethereal laughter of the crazed Death Eater, I, nothing more than the daring reporter that I am, observed and chronicled this surreal event that defied explanation.

The headlines were already flashing before my very eyes.

"Time-Twisted Tango: Bellatrix Dances with History's Finest in Ministry Mayhem!"

"Historical Hijinks: Bellatrix's Bizarre Dance Partners Leave Time Orbs in Pieces!"

"Orb-shattering Revelry: Bellatrix's Twisted Time Traveling Dance Extravaganza!"

"From Shakespeare to Genghis Khan: Bewildering Bellatrix's Eccentric Dance Soiree Defies Time and Logic!"

However, and before I could even begin to imagine the chaos such articles would bring upon the wizarding populace, a young pale-haired witch caught my beady eyes. It was the rather capricious Luna Lovegood, who attempted to counter Bellatrix's peculiar dance with an even stranger spel-

Is she trying to turn those shards into a disco ball?

I...I could not say as to what Miss Lovegood was attempting, yet, and with but a flick of her wand, she endeavoured to do something of which I presumed to be well beyond the abilities of a witch of her age. However, and in a predictably loony fashion, the spell went awry, and instead of creating what I could only believe to be some kind of sparkling ball, a colossal, yellow rubber duck was conjured, its quack being that uproariously loud that it could have rivalled a Hungarian Horntail in sheer volume.

This majestic beast of the bath was levitating with all its yellowy glory, creating a truly comical spectacle amongst the on-going madness - one that it seemed that I, and I alone was privileged to witness.

Though, and as if I hadn't be witness to enough, the pièce de résistance of this macabre circus ended up being the very room's centrepiece; the Veil. The enigmatic archway, that any respectable witch or wizard knew, was a 'portal' that led to the Afterlife, and had seemingly decided that it wanted to be the centre of contention in this insanity. Lucius, his temper having gotten the better of him, sought to banish young Harry into the ominous Veil. Yet the Veil itself seemed to have been possessed by a rebellious spirit - as if it were in cahoots with whatever in Merlin's name above had engulfed this chamber.

It...

I could do nothing but blink as the archway of death promptly spat the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die back out, sending him hurtling through the air - and landed with a splash in a colossal pie that some poor Muggle was trying to carry.

(Where the fuck did the Muggle come from?!)

The scene before me had descended into the depths of absurdity that defied all reasons and realities. And as my poor mind tried to comprehend what it was seeing, Mister Potter was now encased in poor Jeff's runaway pie, the Boy-Who-Lived-Again cries and protests muffled by the custardy goop. And as he rolled about the room, he bemoaned his predicament loudly, shouting to the heavens above and hell below, "I'm not dessert, I'm the Chosen One!"

It was, in my most honest opinion, a proclamation that perfectly encapsulated the preposterousness of the situation.

"Does... does she really think like that?" Skilly couldn't help but ask as she turned to her partner with a raised eyebrow. The memories of one Rita Skeeter were being shown for all members of the Wizengamot to see on a modified Pensive that reminded the Master-Healer of the telly's that her cousin use to sell.

Felix Muddler sighed, even as his eyes remained fixed on the swirling memories. "Could explain the eccentricity of her papers. I mean, this is Skeeter we're talking about."

"Eccentric?" Skilly questioned with a roll of her eyes. "More like completely crazy. She practically makes things up as she goes. Have you forgotten that so-called 'Yeti' sighting she reported on three months back - and in the Forbidden Forest of all places? Poor Rubeus couldn't go anywhere for weeks!"

Muddler snorted, giving his partner a side-glance. "From what I heard; Mister Hagrid was forced to take a trip to Mungo's after the incident to get himself obliviated of the memory; 'Less he scare more of the children with his recounts'."

The pair's boss, a stern-looking wizard who possessed a rugged façade, close-cropped hairstyle, and a distinctive, no-nonsense expression, glared at both Agents from his seat. "Enough bickering, you two. We're here to find out what happened to Skeeter and the Veil, not to debate her reporting style in the tabloids."

Skilly and Muddler exchanged a glance before turning their attention back to the Pensieve. Rita's memories continued to unfold, revealing the fate of the Daily Prophet's journalist. Yet, Skilly couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "I hope it involves her learning a lesson or two about responsible journalism."

Muddler chuckled. "You're such an idealist, Dora. In the world of media, don't you know it's a dog eat dog world."

Their boss, growing impatient, whacked both of them over the head with a rolled-up newspaper, his eyes narrowing as he snapped, "Focus, you two! We need to get to the bottom of this. Now pay attention!"

Rubbing their heads, the two Agents begrudgingly returned their focus to the Pensieve. The memories of Rita Skeeter's escapades continued to play out for all to see, and the Wizengamot members watched closely, determined to uncover the truth behind not only the journalist's current state of catatonics, but also that of the fate of the Veil - as it had officially stopped accepting people within its folds.

Amidst the swirling chaos of the room, where floating orbs of time shattered like fragile dreams, and wizards and witches engaged in a encounters that defied all reason, I clung to the fringes of this absurd spectacle in my Animagus form. The air was thick with the madness that seemed to have consumed everyone in the chamber, and I could barely believe my multifaceted eyes at the sight before me.

Hermione Granger, the supposed voice of reason in this cacophony of lunacy, attempted to salvage the situation by summoning a magical barrier. A commendable effort for the know-it-all chit, but even her spell succumbed to the whims of this unpredictable chamber. Instead of the intended protective barrier, an enormous hamster ball materialized, rolling over her and trapping her within its transparent confines.

The absurdity reached its peak when Lucius Malfoy, the seemingly persistent villain of this narrative, attempted the Killing Curse, aiming to end Harry's existence once and for all. Fate, however, had other plans, and I witnessed with absolute horror as the wizard's wand inexplicably transformed itself into a shrivelled banana, leaving him standing there, fruit in hand, while laughter erupted, led by the very person he sought to destroy - Harry Potter, who was still encased within the rolling pie.

As chaos reigned, a colossal, sentient hourglass, decided to make its own contribution. It spun and twirled, flinging sand in all directions, creating a bizarre sandstorm that blinded everyone. Amidst this sandy maelstrom, I had the distinct privilege of witnessing the sight of Mad-Eye Moody, a battle-hardened auror, riding a unicycle whilst juggling cauldrons filled with glitter and singing Auld Lang Syne - an absurd spectacle that left no room for doubt that sanity had abandoned this chamber.

Oh, the audacity of it all!

And then, amidst the chaos where floating orbs of time shattered, Auror's rode unicycles, Chosen One's rolled in pies, and tarantulas danced in top hats as they chased one Ronald Weasley around - who had unfortunately had a brain attached to his head (not that it seemed to improve his intelligence in the slightest) - an unexpected interloper entered the scene. The shifting sands of time seemed to part - revealing none other than Jake Long, the American Dragon?

What in Merlin's name was going on?

With a mischievous grin and a confident swagger, Jake raised his clawed hand to the heavens.

"Hold up, hold up! This battle needs a bit more... pizzazz!" he declared; his draconic eyes gleaming with a mischief that hinted at a desire for something more than the ongoing madness - and I suddenly felt a cold shiver trickle down my spine as the combatants, both bewildered and intrigued, momentarily forgot their adversaries and turned their attention to this unexpected interloper.

Lucius, still holding his wand-turned-banana with disdain, regarded the bipedal dragon with a mix of arrogance and curiosity. "And who might you be?" he did sneer.

"Oh, you know, just your friendly neighbourhood dragon from across the pond," the dragon - boy? - replied with a wink. "Now, I've been watching this whole showdown, and whilst I think it's rather sweet, I do believe it's missing a key ingredient. How about we settle this in the most epic way possible?"

A collective murmur of confusion spread through the room, and I even found myself - much to my horror - intrigued. Death Eaters and members of the Order of the Phoenix alike exchanged uncertain glances. Yet the American Dragon didn't leave them in suspense for long.

"It's time for a rap battle!" he declared, throwing his arms wide - and the next thing I knew, everything had gone white.

Changed to Third Person POV cause, sadly, I found the following wouldn't have worked otherwise.
Also, these - ? - are to represent the 'lyrical' aspect within the following scene.
Again, nothing recognisable is mine and belongs to whoever respectively owns it.

Rita Skeeter awoke in a daze, her surroundings a blur of shifting shadows and distant echoes. As her senses slowly returned, she found herself in an unexpected place - the Veil Room. But it wasn't the eerie, solemn space she remembered; it had been transformed into an auditorium, complete with a stage adorned with twinkling lights and a decorated Veil serving as the backdrop, all in the time she had been rendered unconscious.

Confused and disoriented, the witch - no longer in her Animagus form - tried to make sense of her surroundings. The rows of seats were filled with an eclectic mix of Death Eaters, Dumbledore's Army, and Order of the Phoenix members, forming a makeshift audience around her, and the air buzzed with anticipation.

The reporter couldn't shake the feeling that she was caught in the midst of a surreal dream, however, as suddenly, a spotlight illuminated the stage, revealing the American Dragon, Jake Long, who was serving as the master of ceremonies as he introduced none other than-

"Ladies and gentlemen, wizards and witches, please welcome the one, the only, Dark Lord himself - Voldemort!" Jake announced with a flourishing wave of his clawed hand.

Under the spotlight of an enchanted Lumos, one Dark Lord suddenly found himself thrust into an unexpected Broadway musical, surrounded by his loyal followers, who were now playing the role of his backup dancers. The Death Eaters, with their wands raised, cast spells that created swirling, colourful illusions, turning the stage into a magical spectacle of illumination.

Voldemort, in all his skeletal, snake-like glory, suddenly found himself with the opportunity to showcase his dramatic talents, and as the enchanted lights flickered, did he began a performance that was sure to stop the world.

His dark presence, now infused with a peculiar theatricality that left everyone, friend and foe alike, utterly bewildered, wasted no time launching into an outrageous performance. The Dark Wizard strutted and twirled, his wand held up to his mouth like a microphone, as he began to sing a very dark and twisted version of "Born This Way."

? - "My daddy told me when I was young, 'You are just a big mistake'." - ?

The Death Eaters suddenly released a tirade of spells, causing explosions of lights and colour to occur around the room in time with the beat of the music.

? - "He left me stranded in an orphanage, to hurt my friends and talk to snakes." - ?

Rita Skeeter's eyes somehow managed to widened with her sheer disbelief behind her spectacles, unable to believe what was unfolding before her.

This was beyond the realms of any sensational headline she could have conjured up!

The Death Eaters, adorned in their dark robes, joined the spectacle, leaping and twirling in a macabre dance that could rival any Broadway production. And a pair of them broke away from the rest, now appearing to be more than just backup dancers to the reporter as they showcased their own interpretive moves, flinging their wands with an unexpected finesse as they joined in with their Master.

? - "There's nothing wrong with loving who you are." - ?

? - "So, I accepted evil in my veins. I split my soul up into seven parts - to put the Mudbloods all in chains." - ?

Rita gawked at the spectacle unfolding before her. The Death Eaters in the audience clapped and cheered, while the rest looked on in bewilderment. Voldemort continued his performance with a mix of menace and theatricality, his voice echoing through the peculiar auditorium.

? - "You better kneel down and pray." - ? one of the Death Eaters begun, his companion taking over not a moment later. ? - "'Cause Voldy's seizing the day." - ? right before Voldemort took the lead once more. ? - "I've made a comeback, baby, and I'm born to slay." - ?

As the chorus echoed through the chamber, the Death Eater back-up dancers/singers, with a synchronized precision, formed a dramatic tableau of talent; both of the musical and magical variety. They lifted their wands high, creating an eerie display of dark magic that seemed almost poetic in its malevolence, and the floating orbs of time, caught in the magical performance, begun to blinked and flicker in time to the music.

With a flair for the dramatic, the Dark Lord spun on the spot, his cloak billowing around his rather lanky ankles. His back-up dancers, in a surprisingly perfect harmony, executed a series of jumps and spins, adding an unexpected layer of whimsy to the dark lyrics. All the while, the enchanted globs continued to create a kaleidoscope of colours that danced across the chamber.

? - "All of you muggles are swine. I've got no nose, but I'm fine. I am the Dark Lord, baby, and I'm born to slay." - ?

Then, as the spotlight focused once more on Voldemort - and much to Rita's growing horror - he extended his claw-like hand, inviting his minions to join him in-

D-Did he just start a kick line?!

With impeccable timing, each dark wizard on stage high-kicked and twirled, their robes swirling in a macabre display of showmanship. The absurdity of the situation the reporter was witnessing had officially reached new heights, transforming what she'd presumed to be a wonderous scoop into nothing more than a bloody nightmare as the Dark Lord Voldemort became an unexpected star of the stage.

? - "Welcome to a darker day. Harry, Ron, Hermione." - ? his back-up singers cut in once more, Voldemort himself joining in not a moment later as he both sung and threatened, ? - "Baby, I was born to slay. I will make that Potter pay." - ?

His back-up dancers, each with their own unique flair, took turns showcasing their own individual talents as their Master sang. One performed a rhythmic tap dance that echoed through the chamber, whilst another executed a flawless pirouette, making Rita believe that maybe Bellatrix had snuck up on stage - until she spotted the deranged witch jumping and cheering along with her Death Eater companions within the crowd.

The juxtaposition of dark magic and dance taking place on the stage was truly a spectacle that defied all expectations. Voldemort's performance was a bizarre blend of arrogance, showmanship, and dark humour, and his audience, caught between shock and amusement, couldn't tear their eyes away. And Rita, sitting amongst it all, documented the unfolding spectacle with a mix of incredulity and fascination.

? - "Voldemort is here to stay." - ?

? - "I am the Dark Lord, baby, and I'm born to sla-." - ?

As Voldemort's outrageous performance reached its climax, the room was suddenly bathed in darkness, and the echoes of the Dark Lord's song were abruptly cut off. Rita Skeeter blinked at the unexpected change in lighting, and the audience, still caught in the lingering shock of Voldemort's spectacle, shifted in their seats, uncertain of what was to come.

A new track emerged from the magical speakers, and a spotlight illuminated the stage once again. But now, there was another figure standing alongside Voldemort - a man who possessed some rather nasty facial scars.

? "I started as a nobody and grew up as a freak." ?

As the newcomer's rather haunting melody began, the stage came alive with an absurd brand of madness. The scars on his face begun to dance in rhythm with the music, accentuating the chaotic energy that surrounded him, and he moved with an unnatural fluidity, creating a visual spectacle that mirrored the absurdity of the Veil Room.

? - "My dad drank booze, my mum smoked pot, I had poor physique." - ?

? - "But now, I'm running Gotham 'cause that Bat's delirious." - ?

Rita watched on stunned - and a little confused - as the man twirled and spun across the stage, his movements embodying the overly twisted narratives of his lyrics. He gestured wildly, creating illusions of chaos with every flick of his wrist and surprising far more than the sticky-beaked reporter watching, the entire room unable to tear their gaze away from the surreal performance unfolding before their eyes.

? - "I shoot up all the good guys asking, 'Why so serious?'" - ?

The Joker's laughter echoed through the room as he enacted scenes of mayhem, each move a choreographed expression of his anarchic nature. He prowled the stage like the demented showman he was, inviting the audience into his world of madness as, with sudden and unexpected bursts of energy and light, shapes and shadows begun to move within the fog that had slowly begun to settle over the stage, creating an eerie backdrop for his macabre dance.

His voice, a melodic madness that danced on the edge of insanity itself, filled the Veil Room, and his unpredictable presence added another layer of randomness to the already bizarre scene as it was not only the audience who found themselves torn between fascination and trepidation; the Dark Lord Voldemort and his loyal - back-up dancing - Death Eaters watching the proceedings from the sidelines with overly gobsmacked expressions.

Rita Skeeter, however, perched on the very edge of her seat, couldn't believe her luck. This was a scoop that would transcend the pages of the Daily Prophet and become the stuff of wizarding legend. Voldemort and the Joker, two icons of Darkness, sharing the spotlight; the juxtaposition of their performances creating an atmosphere that left her Quick-Quotes quill twitching within unconcealed delight.

? - "Can't read my, can't read my- No, they can't read my Joker face." - ?

? - "'Cause I'm a psychopathic killer." - ?

The Clown Prince of Crime grinned maniacally, his chaotic energy blending seamlessly with the dark atmosphere of the Veil Room. The room pulsed with an eerie energy as his lyrics created a chaotic symphony that resonated with the peculiarities of the Department of Mysteries. The Death Eaters and Order members, still in their seats, were now entranced by the unexpected scene unfolding before them.

Unable to stop herself, Rita Skeeter drifted from her chair in order to scuttled closer to the stage, wanting to capture every detail with her bespectacled gaze. The Joker's unpredictable antics matched with Voldemort's previously sinister charm was creating a performance that transcended the boundaries of Dark Magic and the absurd. And in that moment, the Veil Room had become the epicentre of a spectacle that would be remembered in wizarding history for years to come.

? - "Can't read my, can't read my- No, they can't read my Joker face." - ?

As the beat intensified, the Joker's face contorted into exaggerated expressions, each one more unsettling than the last. He moved with an unpredictable rhythm, embodying the essence of his own chaotic symphony, his laughter blending seamlessly with the music, and Rita, still captivated by the spectacle, was suddenly taken on a journey into the mind of a true madman.

? - "I even killed that fat bus driver." - ?

As the Joker's performance reached its zenith, however, the stage suddenly went dark once more, shrouded in a thick white fog that enveloped the entire auditorium. The audience held their breath, Rita herself backing up a few steps, all unsure of what would come next.

In the eerie silence, a deep, mechanical breathing echoed through the fog.

? - ("Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda...) - ?

The fog began to clear, revealing a tall, imposing figure whose black cape billowed in an unseen wind. A lightsabre glowed red in their gloved hand and their unexpected arrival drew gasps from the audience; Death Eater, DA, Order members, and one uninvited reporter, all finding themselves momentarily united in shared disbelief.

? - ("I'm wearing black space pants.") - ?

Darth Vader, Sith Lord extraordinaire himself suddenly - star-jumped?! - in order to-

Yes, he was indeed wearing-

? - "I'm wearing space pants!" - ?

Darth Vader's voice, a deep and resonant - if a bit raspy - baritone, filled the room. His mechanical breathing provided a surprisingly fitting rhythm to the lyrics as he moved with surprising agility for someone encased in black armour - and really seemed to need to see a healer about his breathing...

? - "My name is Vader and I'll blow up your world." - ?

? - "I'm your dad and I wear black space pants." - ?

Vader, with a peculiar twist of the Force, appeared before Harry Potter - and mistook him for his long-lost son? The spectators exchanged bewildered glances, unsure whether or not to take this as a comedic plot twist or a surreal lapse in continuity. Order members, caught between amusement and disbelief, suddenly engaged in an impromptu duel with the Sith Lord, wands being transfigured into their own wooden sabres in order to help their masters 'defend' Harry from Darth Vader.

The Sith Lord, ever dedicated to his newfound role as a space-pants wearing, adoptive - read; 'kidnapped' - father, belted out arguments and declarations between swings of his own cerise lightsabre.

? - "I am a Sith Lord and I'll never be loved." - ?

? - "I'm his dad and I wear black space pants." - ?

Yet as his strange, space-pants-themed battle cry echoed through the room, trying to convey not only why he should be the father of one Harry Potter, but that he really did wear black space pants, the Order of the Phoenix couldn't help but be entertained by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Glances were shared even the Death Eaters, momentarily forgotten, watched the show with their own mix of amusement and incredulity.

? - "Obi-wan Kenobi... I'm wearing space pants!" - ?

The dance of lightsabres and the rhythmic beat of Darth Vader's - asthmatic - vocals created a surreal harmony in the Veil Room. The very fabric of the Force seemed to protest against this bizarre union of words, yet there was no denying the entertainment value of a Sith Lord proclaiming his paternity while insisting on the glory of his black space pants, and Rita Skeeter could not hope to get back to her office quick enough, knowing she probably had the scoop of the century.

? - "Ye-" - ?

? - ("The Jew hunter's here. Yeah, I'm smelling the fear.") - ?

However another voice suddenly cut through the air, and the Order members, still chuckling at the most outrageous game of 'keep away' they'd ever had, found themselves face-to-face with an unexpected intrusion.

A seemingly ordinary Muggle appeared in the midst of the spectacle, his presence casting a sudden and chilling over the room - despite the fact the man possessed no magic whatsoever.

? - "Some may call me cruel, but I got beat up in high school." - ?

The muggle, Jeff, with an unsettling grin, begun to dance and move across the stage in a manner that conveyed a malevolent energy. His actions and words spoke volumes of the hatred and prejudice that seemed to seep from his very being. His every step left a dark imprint on the air, and the atmosphere in the room grew heavier and heavier with discomfort.

? - "So, I take it out on every single Jew throughout, Germany and France." - ?

? - "Now, I'm a real bad man," - ?

As he continued his unsettling display, the confused mirth that had accompanied the lightsabre duel dissipated. An unspoken tension filled the chamber, and the former combatants, both Order members and Death Eaters, exchanged uneasy glances.

? - "You're dead unless you somehow stop me." - ?

The Dark Lord Voldemort, usually the main orchestrator of chaos, regarded Jeff with a cold and calculating gaze. It was one that conveyed the stark contrast to the absurdity that had preceded this ominous intrusion.

? - "'Cause I'm a, I'm a Na-" - ?

"NO!"

Just as the Muggle began to spew a hateful verse about his supposed supremacy and darkness, cerise eyes blazed with an intense and thunderous rage, and with a flick of his wrist, a green light left the tip of Voldemort's wand and struck the Muggle in the chest, causing Jeff to stumble backward - and straight into the eerie Veil.

The room was suddenly engulfed in a haunting silence as Jeff vanished into the mysterious archway. There had been no remorse in Voldemort's actions, no hesitation; seemingly as though that even in the midst of the surreal, one Dark Lord still recognised the depths of cruelty and horror that the Muggle had represented. And the decision to cast him into the Veil was met with an unsurprisingly collective acceptance from those around, as if they all shared an unspoken understanding of the necessity to rid themselves of such darkness.

But just as the moment of united thought had begun to settle, a surprising figure reappeared on the stage, clawed fingers scratching sheepishly at the back of their anthropomorphic host's neck. Jake Long, the American Dragon, looked uncomfortable and surprised, as if he hadn't anticipated Jeff's entrance into the rap battle, and he was quick to offer his apologies.

"Uh, my bad, guys! Didn't mean for that to happen. Seemed like such a nice guy when he got me coffee. But anyway, gotta jet now. Catch you on the flip side!" the American Dragon declared, throwing up a hastily fashioned 'peace' sign with his reptilian hand before, in a flashy display, he disappeared in an explosion of smoke and light and left behind a perplexed assemble of Death Eaters, Order members, and stage performers.

With a shared - possibly questioning their own sanity - glance, and without a word, they began to clean up the mess they'd created, using their unique abilities to restore the chamber to its original state as, it seemed in the aftermath of Jeff's 'disappearance', a tenuous truce had been forged, born out of the surreal nature of their confrontation.

In the midst of this quietly-forged truce, and unbeknownst to the peculiar cleanup crew, though, one Prophet Journalist lay near the stage, utterly catatonic; the overexcitement of witnessing such absurdity seemingly having taken its toll on the normally composed witch. Rita Skeeter babbled incoherently to herself, fingers twitching as if she were writing, clearly lost within the depths of her own mind.

CRACK!

Everyone froze as one Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore suddenly apparated into the room, wand at the ready and ice-blue eyes scanning for danger. However, his entrance into this already bizarre scene was less than graceful, and in his eagerness, the Headmaster of Hogwarts failed to notice the catatonic Rita lying in his path. Tripping over the downed witch's form, Albus' wand went flying, careening through the air with an unpredictable trajectory.

The wand bounced off the massive, sentient hourglass still hanging above the Veil Room, causing it to vanish into thin air. It then ricocheted off a wall, sending it hurtling past one Sith Lord's dark posterior and momentarily startling Darth Vader, before i...

The Headmaster's wand's final destination was the mysterious Veil itself, which, in an uncharacteristic display of activity, seemed to 'belch' as it absorbed one Elder Wand. And as the ripples cast by its disappearance also vanished from within the archway, it was as if the Veil had exerted enough energy for one day and descended into a serene nap, a sense of rightness and calm spreading over the room.

Though, and as Albus managed to peel his face from the floor, just watching the handle of his wand disappear, he could only manage to mutter a quiet, "Oh no," under his breath.

Epilogue

Two Months Later...
-=-

In the dimly lit, labyrinthine depths of the Department of Mysteries, Agents Dora Skilly and Felix Muddler found themselves summoned by their enigmatic and somewhat grump of a boss, Waffle Sinner. The meeting room, hidden behind so many layers of enchantments and wards, was an intimidating space filled with arcane artifacts and shelves laden with ancient scrolls.

Waffle Sinner, a man of mysterious demeanour with a penchant for dramatics, stood at the head of a long, obsidian table. His eyes, sharp and calculating, bore into the souls of his two Unspeakable agents, yet Skilly and Muddler, well-versed in the boss' theatrics, only exchanged glanced that were reflective with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

"Skilly, Muddler," Sinner began, his voice a low, resonating echo within the room. "I have summoned you here for another task, one of unparalleled importance that will require the utmost discretion, cunning, and, most importantly, a strict adherence to the laws of time."

Agent Muddler couldn't help but roll his eyes subtly, a reaction his partner tried to suppress with a cough. Though Sinner, catching the momentary lapse in their professional façade, fixed them with a stern gaze.

"This is no laughing matter, Agents," he declared, his tone turning grave and causing the expressions to be wiped off the duos' faces. "We stand at the precipice of a momentous decision, one that could alter the course of history as we know it. You are being entrusted with a mission that transcends the boundaries of our ordinary assignments."

"Are we finally getting that one to find out who let the Niffler loose into the Department of Magical History and tried to run off with the entire exhibit of Ægyptum Foil-Mummy's?"

Waffle Sinner's eyes narrowed, and a flicker of annoyance passed over his face - at the same time Skilly nudged her partner in the side as she tried to stifle a laugh.

"This is not the time for jests, Muddler," Sinner told the Agent, "The fate of our world hangs in the balance, and your insouciance is ill-timed, as always."

"What's the nature of the mission?" Skilly questioned, seemingly having recognised that any further sarcasm would only worsen their situation. She knew that only Unspeakables the Department didn't care for returning were sent on time jumps; their vows effectively trapping them in an age they weren't born into if their Turner decided not to return them.

Sinner, pacing dramatically in front of the table, gave one last warning look to Muddler before he began to outline the details of their mission. "In the annals of magical history, a dark event was foretold to loom on the horizon; something of which if left unchecked, could plunge our world into further chaos. The task required of you involves a journey back in time, to a critical juncture wherein your intervention may stop this event from possibly occurring and alter the course of destiny."

Producing a small, ornate box from beneath his robes, Waffle placed it onto the table. With but a flick of his wrist, the box unlocked and he opened it to reveal a very specialised Time-Turner, an ancient and powerful device that was yet to be created - and clearly lost by a future Unspeakable.

"Behold, the key to our salvation," the man intoned, his eyes gleaming with intensity as he levelled them upon his agents. "But with great power comes great responsibility, yes? Use this artifact judiciously and ensure that the fabric of time remains intact. Any misstep could have far more than catastrophic consequences."

Skilly, with a sense of trepidation, spoke up. "And what exactly is the event we are meant to alter, sir?" wondering just how badly they had screwed up on their last case to have been given such a task. And it didn't help that her boss hesitated before replying.

"That, my dear Unspeakable, is a piece of information that will be revealed to you in due time. Suffice it to say, you will recognise the pivotal moment when it arrives."

Always one to question authority - behind closed doors - Muddler couldn't resist probing further. "Are you telling us we'll know what to change when we see it? How convenient."

Once again the Agent found himself under the stern gaze of his boss, however, Sinner telling him, "You will be provided with the necessary information, but the specifics of this mission must remain shrouded until the opportune moment. We only have one chance at this, Agents, and if that means holding back information without risk of it falling into the wrong hands until the opportune moment, then so be it."

"Understood, sir," Skilly nodded with determined relief, glad to hear that their hadn't failed that badly with their last job and they weren't going to be tossed into the Nexus. "We'll proceed with the utmost caution, as usual."

Waffle Sinner, seemingly satisfied with their apparent compliance, nodded in return. "Good. You depart immediately. Remember, Agents, the fate of the world is in your hands. Trust in the gravity of your task, and may time forever be in your favour."

As the two Unspeakables received the Time-Turner and prepared to embark on their unprecedented journey, neither Skilly nor Muddler could shake the feeling that the weight of not history, but the very nexus of time itself rested entirely upon their shoulders. The air in the room seemed charged with an unspoken urgency, and the journey they were about to undertake promised to be unlike anything they had faced before.

Now... if only they knew where they were going.

Department of Mysteries
April 21, 1889

"Not exactly my idea of a vacation destination," Skilly snarked as she adjusted her clothing for the nigh time that day, glancing around at the familiarly unfamiliar surroundings with an air of mild disdain.

"Oh, come on, Dora. Think of it as a trip down history lane," Muddler, the ever more optimistic of the two, offered with a wry smile from her side. "Maybe you'll find a version of yourself in a past life who appreciated the finer things in this time period."

Skilly shot him a withering look, her fingers unknowingly curling into fists. "Finer things?!" she hissed, "I can't imagine a time where corsets and suffocating social norms would be considered 'fine'."

As the two Unspeakables proceeded down the corridor they knew would lead them to the Veil Room, and as a silence once more descended over them, Muddler adjusted the bag he was carrying over his shoulder and causing Skilly to glance his way; the movement causing her to ask, "Muddler, you sure our task was to alter this? You know, Waffle did tell us that we only had one shot, and what if we got it wrong? What if there was a mix up, and we got the wrong one?"

Muddler could only chuckle at Skilly's concerns. "Dora, my dear, you worry far too much. We've got this, yeah. Don't you fret. It's like Waffle always says, 'Trust the process'. Besides, think of it this way - if we mess up, at least he'll have some amusing tales to tell back at the office as we make his life a living hell from here."

Rolling her eyes at her partner's apparent nonchalance, Skilly could only mutter something about 'optimistic fools' under her breath. However, and as they reached the entrance to the Veil Room, the door creaked open on its own, revealing the mystic archway that did separate the living world from the unknown - and the Healer felt a shiver run down her spine at the feeling that the eerie archway had been - expecting? - them.

She eyed the Veil warily - and almost jumped out of her skin as Muddler chuckled at her discomfort, the wizard patting her on the back in a manner that seemed almost patronising. "Come on, it's just a walk in the park," he told her as he stepped into the room, barely resisting the urge to shiver himself as the energy of the Veil almost became all-compassing.

"Yeah... a park with a bloody creepy archway," Skilly couldn't help but mutter as she reluctantly followed after her partner.

"Still a park," Muddler threw over his shoulder, and Skilly rolled her eyes.

"This better work, Muddler. I'm not keen on becoming a permanent resident of the 19th Century."

"Oh, ye of little faith," her partner teased, hefting the bag he'd been carrying from his shoulder before eyeing the Veil. "Waffle's notes says this is the one, the key to changing it all."

"The key, huh?" Skilly raised an eyebrow even as her gaze dropped to the bag in Muddler's hands. "Let us hope it's not a skeleton key to our doom."

"This is it, then?" Muddler asked, his tone suddenly serious as he glanced to his partner. "We alter the past, change the course of history. No pressure, right?"

"And you just had to remind me," his partner muttered under her breath, even as she slowly closed the distance between herself and the archway of doom. The air was solemn, heady almost with both sadness and expectation, and the Healer couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to tamper with something far beyond their comprehension.

The very room itself seemed to hold its breath as Muddler tossed the bag into the archway; a hushed silence following its disappearance, the echoes of the Unspeakable's actions reverberating unnervingly throughout the chamber. Skilly stare at the Veil, waiting for some cosmic sign that their mission had been successful - and almost ended up colliding with the roof as Muddler's voice sliced through the silence.

"Well, that wasn't so ba-"

Before the wizard could finish, the familiar sensation of time being twisted surrounded them. The room blurred, and reality seemed to warp and bend. Colours swirled and the air crackled with energy.

As the two Unspeakables emerged - surprisingly unscathed and dressed in their original clothes - from the time distortion, the pair found themselves returning to the familiar sights of their Department of Mysteries, the Veil still as quiet as the day it had swallowed Jeff and did allow Skilly a small comfort. The hushed whispers and presence of the Veil seemed already a distance memory as they stepped back into a world that, to their surprise, felt oddly serene.

The agents dusted themselves off, exchanging a bewildered glance. The air, whilst peaceful, was also charged with an unusual quietude that seemed out of touch with their war-torn era; the absence of the dark undercurrents that had become commonplace in their line of work seemingly vacant.

Skilly surveyed their surroundings with a furrowed brow, making certain that nothing else was amidst. "This... does something feel different to you?" she questioned, glancing at her partner.

"I don't know about you, Dora, but I'm feeling some good vibes," Muddler, typically more attuned with the whims of fate, grinned. "Maybe we accidentally made the world a better place."

The pair made their way to their boss' office, their steps echoing through the strangely silent halls. The door of Waffen Sinner's private quarters creaked open upon their approach - and revealed a man who seemed to be in a state of sheer jubilation. The wizard who had once been Felix Muddler and Dora Skilly's stern, mysterious boss had been transformed into a radiating beacon of absolute joy.

"Ah, my star agents have returned!" Sinner greeted with an exuberant smile as Muddler and Skilly warily stepped into his office. "How was your trip through time? Everything go to plan?" he continued to ask before cutting himself off as he added, "Oh no, don't tell me! I know, I know; 'Can't reveal the what of which has change the when'."

Boisterous laughter followed Sinner's words, and the Agents could only exchange puzzled glances as they wondered what the hell had happened to their boss.

Skilly and Muddler exchanged puzzled glances before nodding cautiously as Sinner's boisterous laughter filled the room. "Good, good! I can feel it. The world is different, better. Oh, I've been waiting for this moment."

"Did you finally discover the secret to happiness while we were gone, Sinner?" Muddler, however, couldn't help but tease, a rather sly smile beginning to play about on his lips.

Sinner chuckled. "In a manner of speaking, Muddler. In a matter of speaking," he said before motioning them to follow him, leading the way to a large magical window that neither Unspeakable had noticed previously, and that did reveal the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. "Have a look."

As the pair did as told and looked out the window, they blinked as they were confronted with a world that looked to have been untouched by the terrors and scars of war. The buildings, some that neither Unspeakable could recall seeing in their lifetime, stood tall and unmarred, and witches and wizards strolled leisurely through the cobblestone streets. It was the absolute vision of peace and prosperit-

"Ow! What the hell, Muddler!"

"Sorry," the wizard shrugged as he dropped his hand away from where he'd pinched Skilly's arm. "Just wanted to check."

"Arse!" the Healer cursed under her breath as she rubbed the already reddening spot on her arm.

"What happened?" Muddler asked Skinner after he was done taking his fill of the bustling street, his perplexed expression clearly revealing his inability to fully comprehend the stark contrasts between the world they'd known and the one they'd returned to.

Waffle Sinner's eyes sparkled with emotions neither Unspeakable had seen before, and Skilly - who would deny it until her dying breath - took a step closer to her partner. "You two... Oh boy, did you two set in motion a series of events that ultimately changed the course of history. The... bag that you deposited into the Veil contained a significant amount of, um... darkness, and it seems the Veil had its own plans for such a contribution."

Muddler blinked before giving his head a confused scratch; one plus one clearly ending up being window, of which was locked and he had no key for. "Darkness led to peace?" he questioned somewhat dumbly. "That's a new one, Sinner."

"The Veil, you see, has a peculiar way of balancing things," his boss decided to explain. "It took the darkness you provided and, in turn, created an age of unprecedented tranquillity. The memories it drew upon to shape this world were influenced by the contents of that bag."

Skilly's eyes widened in realisation, and she turned away from the window. "Rita Skeeter's memory; the witch watched the Dark Lord discard Jeff into the Veil. That memory became a catalyst for a world where neither the Dark Lord nor Jeff could wreak havoc."

"Exactly!" Sinner agreed, pointing to Skilly with a joyous expression. "The absence of the Wizarding War and, well, the mysterious disappearance of one particular person the day after their birth, have shaped a world free from the atrocities you once knew."

"So..." Muddler raised an eyebrow. "The Veil creates peace when given enough darkness to balance?"

"It doesn't sound that unreasonable," Skilly interjected.

"Yes, it's almost poetic, isn't it?" Sinner agreed. "Darkness cast into the Veil results in a world where conflict and obscurity cease to exist." As the two Unspeakables absorbed the implications of their unintended actions, Sinner continued, "I must admit, however. I didn't expect this outcome. You two have inadvertently become the architects of a better world, and I've found that the Department may need to revise its mission statement."

"Wait!" Felix Muddler grinned a very cat-like grin. "So you're telling me that we 'accidently' created a utopia by tossing that bag of darkness into the Veil?" he asked adding before either Skilly or Sinner could offer a reply, "You know, I could really get used to this accidental hero business."

Surprisingly, Sinner only chuckled. "Indeed, Felix. Embrace your newfound status, you've definitely deserved it. The world is a far better place, and despite it being somewhat unwitting, the role you played still led to its transformation."

21st April 1889

Infant Disappears from Local Hospital! - Parents Demand Answers

In an unprecedented and alarming incident, a one-day-old infant mysteriously vanished from the Braunau am Inn's local hospital earlier today. The child, identified as Adolf Hitler, was reported missing by the destressed parents who are now demanding answers from the medical staff and authorities.

The perplexing disappearance has left the community in shock and the hospital scrambling for an explanation after it was revealed the staff themselves seemed to have been affected by some mysterious bout of amnesia. This surprising find, along with the infant's own enigmatic disappearance, has left Mister and Mrs Hitler, whose grief is beyond immeasurable, seeking accountability and a thorough investigation into the circumstances surrounding their son's vanishment.

Local authorities have launched an immediate inquiry into the incident, and the hospital, despite its staff's own mysterious memory-loss, are fully cooperating with the investigation. The police are questioning hospital staff, revieing security measures, and examining any potential leads that may shed light on the whereabouts of missing Adolf; urging anyone with information related to the disappearance to come forward and assist in the ongoing investigation.

His parents, who had been anticipating the joy of raising their first child, are now left grappling with the anguish of uncertainty. Mrs Hitler, visibly distraught, pleaded for the safe return of her child, while Mr Hitler expressed his disbelief at the situation.

The circumstances surrounding the disappearance of baby Adolf remain shrouded in uncertainty, and as the community anxiously awaits answers, one can only hope for a swift resolution to this perplexing and distressing mystery. As the community rallies in support of the grieving family, let it been known that their demands of swift action to unravel the enigma surrounding the disappearance of one-day-old Adolf Hitler have been heard far and wide.

October 12, 1893

Scandal at Hogwarts! - Brothers' Feud Ends in Expulsion

In a shocking turn of events, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry finds itself at the epicentre of a scandal as one of its promising first-year students, Albus Dumbledore, was expelled after a violent altercation occurred; one that did involve his very own elder brother, Aberforth.

Eyewitnesses recount the incident that occurred within the hallowed halls of the castle, tarnishing the reputation of the Dumbledore family and casting doubt on the school's famed commitment to discipline.

The confrontation in question unfolded in the early evening hours of October 10th, when Albus, known for his intellectual prowess and early displays of magical talent, engaged in a heated argument with his brother Aberforth. The dispute was reported to have quickly escalated into physical violence, leaving the elder brother injured and requiring medical attention.

Professor Lionell Fisher, Head of Gryffindor House and witness to the altercation, shared his account: "It was an unfortunate and regrettable incident. Young Master Dumbledore exhibited an alarming zeal for what he termed 'Gryffindor Supremacy', and his actions were unbecoming of a student within our beloved school."

The Gryffindor Common Room, usually a place of camaraderie and unity, became a battlefield for ideologies as the brothers clashed over their differing views. Students reported that Albus, with a fervour rarely seen in a First-Year, declared Gryffindor's supposed 'superiority' over the other houses.

"It was like nothing I've ever seen before," said a fellow student and member of Gryffindor House wishing to remain anonymous. "He (Albus) was shouting about how we (Gryffindor) were destined to lead, and it was as if he didn't care who got in the way."

"Aberforth's got friends in all houses," another student, Janice Smythe of Hufflepuff, did reveal. "Yet the moment he mentioned Thaddeus (Nott) from Slytherin, it was as if his brother became possessed or something."

Despite the intervention of Hogwarts faculty, including the Headmaster Armando Dippet, who arrived swiftly at the scene, the damage had already been done. Aberforth Dumbledore was taken to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing for treatment, while his brother Albus faced the consequences of his actions.

Headmaster Dippet, visibly distressed by the unprecedented nature of the incident, reluctantly made the decision to expel Albus Dumbledore from Hogwarts, ensuring that the safety and well-being of the entire student body would be met.

In a brief statement, the Headmaster stated, "The welfare of our students is our utmost priority. We cannot tolerate such divisive and aggressive behaviour within our hallowed halls. The expulsion of Mister Dumbledore was an unprecedented measure we were forced to make in order to maintain the sanctity of our beloved institution."

The Dumbledore family, once regarded with admiration and respect, now faces scrutiny in the wake of this scandal. Though, whilst Albus Dumbledore's future within our Wizarding World remains uncertain as he departs Hogwarts in a cloud of controversy, the repercussions of this incident is certain to reverberate throughout our magical society, leaving a long-lasting stain on the storied history of our beloved School.

March 5, 1903

Dark Duo's Downfall - Dumbledore and Grindelwald Behind Azkaban Bars

A decade after the scandal that led to his expulsion from our very own Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore finds himself in a situation more dire than anyone could have predicted. The once-promising young wizard, alongside his infamous associate Gellert Grindelwald, has been apprehended and incarcerated in Azkaban for an audacious attempt to plunder the renowned Wandsmith, Mykew Gregorovitch.

The arrest of Dumbledore and Grindelwald has sent shockwaves throughout the Wizarding World, raising questions about the path that led these two formerly brilliant and talented individuals down such a dark and perilous road.

Sources close to the investigation reveal that the duo's attempted theft was thwarted by the combined efforts of the Ministry of Magic's Auror Department and an unnamed wizarding vigilante. The confrontation, which took place in Master Gregorovitch's secluded residence, resulted in a fierce duel that ended with the incarceration of both Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.

Auror Nicolas Vance, a key figure in the operation, commented on the significance of the arrest: "The Ministry remains fully dedicated to upholding the law within our magical world. The actions of the wizards' in question have been a blatant violation of those laws, and justice will be served without prejudice."

"Albus was such a promising wizard during the time I knew him at Hogwarts," Elphias Doge, a former schoolmate of Mister Dumbledore did express to our reporters. "To see him fall so far is truly disheartening."

Buboes Skeeter, a Daily Prophet correspondent, speculated on the motivations of the duo: "It appears that Dumbledore and Grindelwald were after something of immense magical power, likely related to their notorious obsession with the 'Greater Good'. The details are hazy, but it's clear that they were willing to resort to dark means to achieve their goals."

An elder wand is rumoured to be at the centre of their ill-fated plot, however, Master Gregorovitch declined to comment on the incident and the true nature of the thwarted robbery has been left shrouded in mystery.

"No wizard or witch, no matter their past achievements or reputation, is above the law. The attempted robbery of Gregorovitch will not go unpunished," Minster for Magic, Miriam Strout, assured the wizarding community; the Minister confirming the rumours of the Ministry being fully committed to prosecuting Dumbledore and Grindelwald to the full extent of the law.

November 12, 1909

Albus Dumbledore Escapes Azkaban! - Wizarding World in Shock

In a stunning turn of events, Albus Dumbledore, the wizard who had been serving time in Azkaban alongside his best friend, the notorious Gellert Grindelwald, has managed to escape the supposedly impregnable wizarding prison. The news of Mister Dumbledore's escape has sent shockwaves throughout the Wizarding world, leaving many to question the security measure in place at Azkaban.

Mister Dumbledore's escape was discovered during a routine check of the prison's inmates, leaving the Guards baffled when they found an empty cell where the former Hogwarts Student had been confined. The circumstances surrounding his escape remain a mystery, and Aurors are scrambling to apprehend the fugitive.

Minister of Magic, Miriam Strout, held an emergency press conference to address the concerns of the wizarding community. "The escape of Mister Dumbledore is a grave breach of our security protocols. However, rest assured that every effort is being made to recapture him and bring him to justice. We urge the public to remain vigilant and report any sightings or information related to Mister Dumbledore's whereabouts."

Experts within the Ministry's Auror's department have expressed their deep concerns over the implications of Mister Dumbledore's escape. Madam Dorothy Peone, former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, commented on the severity of the situation, stating, "Albus Dumbledore's escape is not only a threat to the safety of the members of our Wizarding World, but also a blow to the credibility of our magical institutions. We must act swiftly to rectify this breach and prevent any potential harm."

Rumours abound, each speculating exactly how this Azkaban prisoner had managed to escape. Some have come to believe in the involvement of Dark Magick or outside assistance, while others question the integrity of the prison's security measures. Scepticism is growing amongst the wider wizarding populace, with many demanding a thorough investigation into the circumstances surrounding Albus Dumbledore's escape.

"It's unprecedented," one of the guards working at Azkaban told our Daily Prophet reporter in an exclusive interview. "The cell was both warded and locked, both of which have been confirmed to be still intact. We have no idea how he managed to vanish from a secured cell."

Despite ongoing efforts from the Ministry of Magic in recapturing Albus Dumbledore, our world has been left on edge, uncertain of what the future holds. The escape of one of the most enigmatic and troubled wizards of his time raises questions about the vulnerabilities of the magical institutions that are meant to ensure the safety and security of all magical citizens.

After enduring another gruelling night shift at Azkaban, Fredrick Prewett, a weary and seasoned prison guard, sought respite in the comforting embrace of his charming cottage nestled in Ottery St. Catchpole. The first rays of the morning sun bathed the sky in hues of pink and gold, casting a warm glow on the wizard as he settled into his favourite rocking chair on the front porch. Sipping on a steaming cup of tea, Fredrick basked in the tranquillity and peace that dawn brought.

As his tired eyes surveyed the green expanse of the meadow before him, they landed on an unexpected visitor—a billy goat with enchanting blue eyes, leisurely grazing on the dew-drenched grass. A grin played on Fredrick's lips as he raised his cup in a silent greeting.

"Morning Percy," he called out, though the goat seemed wholly uninterested, continuing its munching with no acknowledgment of the wizard's presence. The snug collar around its neck hinted at a magical origin, and Fredrick's mischievous grin deepened as he contemplated the surprise this peculiar creature might bring to his wife, Mildred, a lover of magical beings.

Thwack!

A gnome was sent soaring through the air, its ill-fated attempt to approach the magical goat met with swift retribution. Fredrick chuckled, a somewhat dark amusement dancing in his tired eyes.

"Mildred always did want to rid the garden of gnomes," he mused, reclining in his chair. The weariness from the night shift seemed to lift, replaced by a newfound energy fuelled by the whimsical antics of the extraordinary goat.

In those tranquil moments of the morning, Fredrick Prewett, Azkaban guard extraordinaire, discovered unexpected joy in the form of a blue-eyed billy goat and the promise of a delightfully peculiar surprise for his wife.

If he had known that the magical antics of a creature from the depths of Azkaban would bring a touch of whimsy to his otherwise ordinary life, however, the wizard may have decided to go about teaching Albus the art of Animagus transformation sooner than he had.

Fin...