The moment you've all been waiting for has finally arrived. It has been many months and you have been denied what you truly deserve. But no longer! I, the mighty and all powerful Ishtaran, finally have been brought in as a guest blogger on Harry's ludicrously illegal blog! At present, he is laughing at the idea it can be illegal at all. We'll just leave him to his little eccentricities, shall we? Now you may be wondering certain things right now, like "Ishtaran, how are you blogging on Harry's phone when you don't have hands?" or "Ishtaran, how do I know it's really you blogging and not Harry pretending to blog?" or "Ishtaran, how do you make your scales so shiny and pretty?" And in order, the answer to those questions are: Harry is scribing for me, you'll have to take my word for it, and it's a trade secret.
Hogwarts is quite a fun place if you're a snake like me. It's my belief that Salazar Slytherin must have designed the castle to be as serpentine friendly as possible. No predators, unless you count older students trying to curse you for…some strange reason. [Hey, in their defense, they have no idea you're not poisonous.] Silence! It matters not if I am not poisonous! I am the mighty Ishtaran and they should be cowering before me! Where was I? There are lots of dry, cool locations for me to shelter. Sun lamps in hidden corners of the dungeons. [I didn't know that!] And pipes for me to hide in. Though I think something might be hidden there…something terrible.
Eh, it's probably nothing.
Harry has asked me to keep an eye on Dumbledore and make sure he's not a threat to anyone. To the best of my knowledge, the only person he appears to be a threat to right now is himself. He spends most of his day locked in his office, ranting and raving to unseen people named Ariana and Gellert. [Wait, hold the phone19fh3-p8qjaa3f3n THAT WASN'T LITERAL, ISHTARAN! By Gellert, do you mean Gellert Grindelwald?]
I don't think so. He speaks to Gellert as if he was his mate. I do not think males can be mates with each other, though I confess I know as little about human social interactions as Harry does. Which is very little. [Hey! How can you say that?] Despite our reputations as deceivers, us snakes tend to speak true. [Touché. Anyway, men can be mates, trust me. Ron's my best mate, after all!]
I thought your mate was Hermione. [Sure, Hermione's my best mate too.] The two of you? I am given to understand such a…triad?...would be considered unorthodox. And I frankly do not understand the point. How are you and Ron to bear young?
[Bear…oh my God. You mean like, mating mates?! Oh, no! No, no, no. I am too young to think about that. No, there is no mating going on between any of us! Especially not Ron. Ron's great, but I don't like him that way.]
What about Hermione? Are your cheeks supposed to be that color?
[We're changing the subject now! And also, for the record, males can be mates with each other just as females can be mates with each other. It's totally okay. As long as we're not shacking up with dark lords like Grindelwald, because that's disgusting.]
I do not understand this but I do not disbelieve you either. I do not need to understand, for I am the mighty Ishtaran and understanding the complexity of human relationships is beneath me. In any event, changing the subject sounds good to me. Harry has been much, much happier since Remus was chosen as his new sire. He makes me nervous for reasons that I am not supposed to discuss if I ever want the extra special treats Harry had specially imported from Bhutan again. But I am sure Harry will protect me if push comes to shove. Even though he will not let me eat the rat that is pure evil and probably off to nefarious mischief. [I told Ron it was going to be a mistake for us all to watch Ratatouille, but does anyone listen to me?]
Remus is worried the curse on the Defense position will cause him harm, so he has decided to leave the position of Defense professor at the end of the year. He will stay at Hogwarts, however, in the newly created position of school counselor, which is apparently supposed to help students with their emotional issues. I do not see how he is qualified for this position, and it is my theory that McGonagall chose him for it solely because she wants an adult Harry will listen to nearby to reel him in when necessary. You may note a very pointed lack of denial from Harry right now.
The scuttlebutt around Hogwarts right now is next year's Defense teacher will be Hestia Jones, the Auror who arrested Hagrid. Harry is very pleased by this, as he feels she's quite a skilled combatant and someone who will stick up for him. However, there is a much more big question to be asked by everyone, and that is who the new headmaster will be. Many people assume McGonagall will become headmaster, but there are rumors she may not get the job because the board is not happy she failed to realize Dumbledore being crazy until it was too late.
For the most part, things have quieted down. As we near the end of the year, everyone is busy studying for exams. Humans complicate things so much. When I was young, we didn't have exams or homework or anything silly like that. It was just eat or be eaten. Hermione is…well, Harry would want me to be polite to his future mate [ISHTARAN!] as well as deny the obvious truth of their future relationship. So I will just say that Hermione has been under a considerable amount of stress recently. She is not only preparing for the final Quidditch game against Hufflepuff. [And she's going to need all the help she can get because the seeker is probably a vampire.] I will not dignify that with a response, merely say that Hermione is also obsessed with studying for final exams. Either one of those make her quite difficult to be around. Both? Well, I think you can fill in the blanks.
The production of the Tempest continues as planned. Harry and I are at all of Ron's rehearsals. He started off very nervous and squeaky, but I personally think he's growing into the role. Whether or not he'll be fully grown into it by the time of opening night, however, is an open question. In the meantime, Harry has some grand and confusing plan. Which, honestly, describes all of his plans, but this one is grander and more confusing than most of them. Maybe you can help me puzzle it out, readers, because Harry isn't giving any hints. Well, any comprehensible ones. It does make me feel better, however, when I can't understand Harry that no one else understands him either.
Harry has hired transfiguration experts from abroad to try to transform the Great Hall into…something. I don't know what. He keeps on going on about "non-Euclidean surfaces" and "WHERE THE HELL DOES THE EXTRA MASS GO?!" and other incomprehensible things. I have been able to ascertain that it is for the play, that he wants to reshape the Great Hall in a specific way so it will be present at the play, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what. The life of a snake is a difficult one, readers. It is even a difficult one to be Harry Potter's snake, no matter how famous he may be or how fearsome he gets in defense of yours truly.
This very morning, Harry was called to Professor McGonagall's office. I am honestly unsure whether or not McGonagall dislikes Harry. I am sure, however, that she doesn't know either. "Mr. Potter, would you mind telling me why we have some of the most renowned experts in magical buildings doing work in the Great Hall right now?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, his green eyes glittering with mischief. "I would mind very much."
"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall snapped. "You will tell me now!"
Harry pulled a bunch of papers out of his pockets. "Every person in there has been authorized by Headmaster Dumbledore, Deputy Headmistress," Harry said snidely. "I do not believe that it falls in your purview – even your new expanded purview – to dispute their presence here."
McGonagall actually slammed her head against the table, profoundly startling Harry. "Harry, for the love of God, we both know Dumbledore is non compos mentis!" There was a blank look on his face; he didn't know what that meant. "By which I mean he's not in his right mind."
"Is he?" Harry asked in a faux-innocent tone as if he himself hadn't brought this to the board's attention. I love watching Harry at work. He's such a brilliant schemer. "Really? I daresay the Daily Prophet would want to know if that was the case."
"Is blackmail your solution to every problem?" McGonagall snarled.
Harry shrugged. "You prefer your solutions to be moral; I prefer them to be successful. I guess it's just a different house culture. Tell me, ma'am, do you believe he was in his right mind when he left me with the Dursleys?"
McGonagall's mouth dropped open. For once, he had her flabbergasted. I understood now why Harry was being so insubordinate towards her. He believes now the answer to that question was no and thus blames her for things getting so bad that he was left with the Dursleys, something he didn't believe Dumbledore would have done back when he was sane.
"I do not know, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said quietly and, I could tell, honestly. Harry's righteous fury left him with those words. It would have persisted if she had denied it, but now he realized she had been wrestling with those very questions herself. "I should not have left you there…"
Harry's head shot up. "You. Were. There?" he said, very calmly and quietly and precisely, but the way the tin of biscuits was rattling on McGonagall's desk said everything his voice did not.
McGonagall lowered her head in shame. "I was, I am afraid. Lily spoke highly of Petunia, of course, but I…that is no excuse. There is no excuse. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"
Harry gave a sudden grin. He was always ready to press his advantage whenever an opportunity dropped into his lap. It is one of the reasons I admire him so much. In his own way, he is as much of a predator as I, though he fights with words and feelings, not necessarily fangs and venom. "Actually, there's a spell I was hoping you could teach me. I was hoping you could teach me to transfigure my glasses into sunglasses. Ishtaran likes to rest underneath sun lamps a lot and I'd like to join him." This, I strongly suspected, was a lie.
McGonagall's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And why can you just not buy sunglasses? I shudder to think how much money you are spending on the Great Hall – sunglasses would be just another drop in the bucket."
"Did I ever tell you about how my relatives kept me in a cupboard under the stairs?"
"Oh, fine," McGonagall muttered. "And the workers in the Great Hall?"
Harry tilted his head. "I propose a compromise. I'll tell Professor Sinistra why they're there. If she thinks it's a danger to the school, then I'll shut the whole thing down."
McGonagall pursed her lips. "Very well, but I will be checking with her. Don't think I'll forget about it. Now to transfigure the sunglasses, you must understand certain fundamental principles of optics…"
Everything got very boring after that and I slithered out before the conversation had even finished. I don't know what Harry's got in mind, but knowing him…it's going to bring down the house. Perhaps literally.
COMMENTS
josh_the_alien: Ishtaran speaks! Dude, you are such an icon! And a Harmony shipper to boot! I've made fanart of you!
Thank you so much for your well-deserved appreciation.
It's opening day and the show is about to start this very evening. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that Ron has got this in the bag. He's going to ride this storm to victory! But there's stuff that needs to be discussed first. Stuff that's not going to be very fun.
So as I'm sure you recall, Malfoy has been going around having meetings with people and plotting behind our backs. We've been ignoring it because, well, it's Malfoy. He's an idiot. Or so we thought. Ever since we defeated him in a duel, he's become drawn and sullen and pale…well, more than usual anyway. And he's carting around this book all the time. He's trying to convince people that Muggles are awful. And you know what? He's right. It's just that everyone sucks, not just Muggles. That's human nature for you. Personally, I think it would be better if snakes like Ishtaran ruled the world. Less war, less famine, less reality TV. Happy endings all around. But we've got to take life as it is.
But this morning, we finally found out what that book was and it was…wow, it was bad. Really, really bad. When a third year shrieked and ran away just upon seeing Hermione, me and Ron knew something had to be done. I'm sure Hermione knew as well, but she's got her Quidditch game soon and she doesn't have time to get into "half-baked schemes" (for her information, my schemes are 57.83% baked). So we tracked down Malfoy and demanded answers.
"What's going on with you, Malfoy?" I demanded. "Why are people looking at Hermione like she's the devil incarnate? What have you done?"
"You want answers," Malfoy spat. "Fine. You get answers. But you already know, so don't act like it's surprising." And then he finally showed me the book he's been keeping so secret and it was…it was…
It was a book about the Holocaust.
And not some Holocaust denial screed like you'd expect a wannabe Nazi like Malfoy to be carrying around. It was an accurate historical account. With pictures. Pictures that wanted to make me throw up. I just…how did Malfoy's dad even get his hands on this book? How much time have we lost that we could have used to convince people that this isn't who Muggles are?
"Oh, come on, Malfoy," Ron said. "Don't you think this is a little over the top? Six million people?"
I shoved Ron against the nearest wall. "Ron. I know you're speaking out of ignorance and that's the only reason we're still friends. But don't you ever say something like that again. This happened. Only evil people think it didn't."
Malfoy pointed a triumphant finger in my face. "You see! You see now! Muggles are evil! They're capable of atrocities like this! Innocents! Women, children, the elderly!"
I turned my anger in Malfoy's direction. "No, no, you don't get it. Muggles started it, but they also stopped it. Hundreds of thousands of people died fighting the people who did this, good people from this country and many others. And if your dad's master had his way, the Death Eaters would have done exactly the same thing to the Muggleborns."
Malfoy looked rattled for the first time in the conversation. "That's…not true."
"We both know it is," I said firmly. "Malfoy, Hermione's not like these people. She's not. I understand how frightening it is to realize Muggles did this to each other. I understand you're afraid they'll do it to us."
"They will!" Malfoy shouted. "We have to stop them! We can't let them into our homes, our business, our lives! Or we'll all die!" He looked at me with sorrow. "Harry, the Jews, they didn't do anything to the Nazis, did they?"
"Of course not!"
Malfoy nodded. "But we have done things to the Muggles. If this is what they can do to innocents, what will they do to the guilty?"
I didn't know the answer to that question. I just knew I never, ever wanted to find out. "Malfoy, please. Please stop this. The answer isn't to hate Muggleborns. The answer is to be strong. To stand together, united. And if the Muggles come after us, we'll need all the allies we can get. If you push away the Muggleborns…those are assets the Muggles can use to their advantage."
"There may be something in what you say," Malfoy had to admit. "I'll think on that." He sighed. "I don't know, Harry. I don't really know which way is up anymore. I was raised to believe Muggles were primitive and then I find out they can be monsters and now…now what? What are they? What are Muggles?"
"Human," Ron said softly. "They're human, Draco. They just don't have magic."
"But doesn't that make them inferior?" he pressed. "If we can do something they can't, it means we're better than they are."
A part of me wondered if I should just get the heck out of here and not waste time debating with Draco…especially since I was thinking of him as Draco in my head now for the first time. But as I've said before, I have a vested interest in converting as many people away from viewpoints which involve my death. Draco was eleven and he was just starting to think for himself. I had to press my advantage. "Am I superior to you because I disarmed you?"
"You cheated!" Draco spat and I winced.
"I did not cheat; I used all of the tools available to me. Just like the Muggles. We've gotten so used to relying on magic as a crutch that sometimes we just…forget there are other options."
Draco looked past me, looking uncomfortable. "So what am I supposed to do, Harry?"
"Think for yourself, Draco. That's all I'm asking. Don't let your father define who you are, what you want. Also, don't sign up with ideologies that involve hurting people. The Nazis believed in racial purity – purity of blood – does that sound familiar to you?"
Draco looked almost ill. "My father is not a bad man." I begged to differ, but it wasn't my goal to convince Draco of the truth about his father. That was way above my pay grade.
"This isn't about your dad," Ron said. "That's Harry's point. He doesn't get to decide who you are. What matters isn't whether he's bad, it's whether you are."
Draco shoved the book into Ron's hand. "Here. Just…leave me alone." He trudged off, looking lost in thought.
"Think we got through to him?" I asked.
Ron shrugged. "Dunno. I never knew about any of this stuff. My mum and dad, they act like Muggles can do no wrong sometimes. I've heard things, you know. Horrible stuff about the Muggles. Mum and Dad always said they were just propaganda, but now I wonder."
I put my hand on Ron's shoulder. "Ron, it's okay. I get it. It's a hard thing to admit, how awful people can be. But like I said, there's lots and lots of good Muggles out there, working really hard to stop horrible things from happening. Sometimes they succeed and sometimes they fail, but they still try."
"Wow, when did you get all wise?" Ron joked.
"Maybe having Dumbledore stalk me caused some of his wisdom to rub off on me?" We both laughed at that.
Well, now we at least we have an answer to the Draco mystery. Even if I wanted a different one. I know some of you might say I'm wasting my time with Draco. He'll never change, you might say. And you're probably right. I'm certainly not going to go out of my way to try to help him, because he's still an arsehole no matter how you slice it. But…I don't know. Would I be any different if I'd grown up in his household? I feel pity for the guy.
Though if I find out he's still badmouthing Hermione after all of this, I'm going to get my revenge. My pity only lasts so far. Eh, what am I worried about? Tonight is going to be incredible! Amazing!
Terrifying. That's what I should have said at the end of my last blog post. Though in my defense, I really didn't have any reason to suspect it would be so terrifying. Everything was going swimmingly. The finishing touches had been placed upon the Great Hall and best of all, no one had gotten what I was trying to do yet so it would come as a total surprise when I revealed it to everyone. Professor Sinistra had signed off on my plans, even though she thought I was "a bit touched in the head" for it. My response? Let's see how sane you are after taking two Killing Curses to the face! She said fair enough.
Draco had, apparently, given a very stilted apology to Hermione. Exceedingly stilted. It was incredibly cringy to watch, according to her. But it was a start. We'll see if it lasts. Hopefully by the time we get back from summer, we'll go back to the original status quo. The last thing I want is for Draco to start thinking of me as a…friend. *shudders* At least we were able to tear Hermione from studying long enough to attend tonight's performance, though this was the only one she is willing to attend. Ron's puppy dog eyes turned out to be even more powerful than mine, and that's saying something!
So I had my friend beside me, my snake in my pocket, and the results of months of scheming and plotting and just generally being the coolest Slytherin that ever slithered in all around me. Life was grand! There was absolutely nothing that could possibly go wrong to derail it. That was what I thought, anyway. And for the first scene, everything went smoothly. And beautifully. It was like the actors were on an actual boat in the sea. I love magic.
And then just as the second scene began and Ron as Prospero stepped onto the stage, Albus Bloody Dumbledore stormed into the room (no pun intended), knocking the doors off and blowing them up into a shower of shards of wood which went everywhere. It was a miracle no one was killed. And this was all despite the fact that the doors were unlocked. Now I freely admit I'm a hypocrite about this matter because I adore dramatic entrances. I hide behind doors just so I can startle the people already in the room when they're not paying attention. But this took things way, way too far.
"TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE!" Dumbledore screamed, his wand held out, as he ran towards Ron, apparently now too senile to realize which kid he'd been stalking and deluded himself into thinking was possessed by a remnant of pure evil. "Your reign of terror, evil, and evaded parking tickets ends here tonight!" He looked around him and blinked in confusion. For once, I could not blame him. It was probably quite jarring to see the Great Hall transformed in such an awesome manner. "What have you done to the Great Hall?"
"Actually, that was Harry," Ron admitted. Wow, way to sell me out, Ron. "Uh, I mean, me! I'm Harry!"
I would not allow him to take my place. This was my battle to fight. Also his lying was extraordinarily cringe and just painful to watch. So I jumped over the person in front of me and then I misjudged the ankle and fell. I landed on my ankle and I think I twisted it, but it's hard to say, because Professor Sinistra quickly healed it before I could register much pain. But then I jumped heroically onto the stage. And then I sort of ruined the heroic look by igniting my red Sith lightsaber, but still. Heroic. I'm standing by that.
Dumbledore cast a spell which turned my lightsaber freezing cold and I dropped it in shock. With another spell, the lightsaber was destroyed. "I expect you to pay for that!"
Dumbledore strode towards me, his very being seeming to be suffused with power. I…all right, people, I'll admit it. I don't like to admit to being scared very often. I usually have a way to sneak my way out of all sorts of trouble. But I was terrified. This was the most powerful wizard in the world. He could kill me in a thousand different ways and by the look on his face, he was ready to do just that.
"I tried so hard to release him from your influence, Tom," Dumbledore said. "I spent years looking for spells that would destroy the Horcrux without having to destroy its bearer. I searched all over the world, in tombs, in libraries. I asked the fae, the goblins, the centaurs. And yet, nothing. And so we find ourselves where we are." He raised his wand. "I will make it quick."
I pulled out my wand, my hand trembling. I didn't know what to do. Was this how my mum and dad had felt like when they faced Voldemort? If I sacrificed my life now, would it do the same thing mum and dad had done? What would it be like when I died, I wondered? Would there be heaven or would there just be nothing?
And then those words from that weird dream I had all those months ago came back to me. Your weakness can be a strength. Meaningless drivel, but now…now I think I understood.
I tossed my wand over into the audience and I got on my knees. I would not allow him to duel me. I would not allow my legacy to be a person who bravely fought. If I was going to die, it would have to be as a child, someone murdered by a delusional old man, cut down before the prime of his life. I would not allow anyone to have the slightest doubt Dumbledore was in the wrong. I couldn't allow it. I would die as I lived: spiting everyone around me because it was fun.
"James?" Dumbledore asked, sounding utterly lost. I felt pity for the man and I felt fury at everyone around him, everyone who'd just stood by and let him degenerate like this instead of sticking him in a home or something where he could get the treatment he needed.
"Yes, that's right, Dumbledore," I said, going with it. I pulled out my invisibility cloak, the cloak Dad had once owned, and showed it to him, adding to the impression. "You need to stop this."
Dumbledore started crying. "I only ever did what I thought was right, James. I just wanted what was best for everyone. But all I've done…all I've done is cause pain. Everywhere I walk, I cause ruin." He looked at his wand. "Perhaps I always knew that was my path from the moment I took this. Perhaps it is the Elder Wand that is the instrument of my fate…or perhaps I am its. I am so, so sorry."
He bowed his head and strode over to me, holding out the wand. I hesitantly took it. McGonagall stepped onto the stage and gently led an unresisting Dumbledore away. Trying to act as if nothing had happened, as if I was not thoroughly rattled by seeing this once great figure finally splinter mentally right in front of me, I took back my wand, went back to my seat and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? The show must go on!"
And so the show did. I'm not an expert in theater, but I think Ron did an absolutely amazing job and isn't that what truly matters in the end? After the show ended, McGonagall summoned me to her office. I hoped I wasn't in trouble. This time, I hadn't been the aggressor. I was very sure of that.
"Professor Dumbledore has been removed from his position and placed in the long-term dementia care ward at St. Mungo's," McGonagall began without preamble. "You have the most sincere apologies of the administration for letting things get this far."
I gave a smile at her. "It's okay. I forgive you. I'm done holding onto resentment. Sure, maybe you could have done better, but that's really not my business. Me, I'm just going to be a normal kid."
"I highly doubt you would ever be classified as normal, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said with the barest fraction of a twitch of her lips. "But maybe that's not such a bad thing. You may keep the wand. I think you deserve it."
I took it out of my pocket. It felt…wrong somehow. But I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Perhaps the right words to describe it haven't yet been invented. "Do you really think this is the real Elder Wand?"
"Who knows?" McGonagall said serenely. "What I do know is that this is the wand Albus won from Grindelwald in his fateful duel in 1945."
I froze. "This wand…belonged to Grindelwald?" McGonagall nodded slowly. "The Dark Lord Grindelwald, who probably killed hundreds of people with it?"
"Probably thousands."
I quickly snapped it in two and tossed the pieces into the wastepaper basket. No way was I letting that thing stay in my hands. I'm not going to use a wand that was used to kill thousands of people. McGonagall let out a little squeak, her eyes wide with shock. "Mr. Potter, you just destroyed a priceless historical argument!"
"I destroyed my priceless historical artifact!" I shot back. "It's mine to destroy."
"For the love of all magic, Potter, just get out of my office," McGonagall said wearily.
So there you have it. Dumbledore has been defeated, the probably literally accursed wand of a Dark Lord destroyed, and most importantly of all, Ron will ride his success in tonight's play to a wave of greatness. No doubt a great time was had by all!
WORST PLAY IN HOGWARTS HISTORY?
By Beatrice Lola Yang, Hogwarts Gazette
When Harry Potter proposed the idea of performing the Muggle play The Tempest, he did so with the intention of uniting the Hogwarts houses. To his credit, he has done so – as nearly everyone at Hogwarts universally believes the play was an abomination unto mankind, transcending divisions such as year, blood status, and house.
"Oh, it was absolutely rotten," Cedric Diggory, fourth year Hufflepuff stated. "The special effects made me so dizzy I almost went to the hospital wing, half the cast forgot their lines, the play made absolutely no sense at all, and the headmaster almost murdered someone on opening night, which definitely was a bad start."
Sixth year Slytherin Philip Isiah Stein concurred with Mr. Diggory. "I'm honestly just as much a fan of Shakespeare as anyone else, but I don't understand why we didn't start with something simpler like Macbeth. I love Macbeth. I'm sure everyone else does too. It was just so boring! I fell asleep multiple times during the show."
Not one student the Gazette could locate had an overall positive view of the play, though some students conceded that at least some of the cast, Ron Weasley (Prospero) among them, did an adequate job considering their young age.
"The Hogwarts drama program is clearly a work in progress," Slytherin head Aurora Sinistra conceded. "But you don't just shut a thing down at the first failure. How else will you improve? I guarantee you that in a decade's time, we will look back at this as the first step on a journey of a thousand miles. I am very proud of everyone who contributed to The Tempest and you have my heartfelt thanks. And at least nothing got set on fire this time."
While the hall was not set on fire, it was, however, warped into what appeared to be a teacup. When this reporter tracked down resident chaos gremlin Harry Potter to find out why, he jumped up and down several times and then gave a grin that led this reporter to fear what was coming.
"Because, my dear Bea, when else would we have gotten a chance to have a Tempest in a teapot?"
He then proceeded to take off his glasses, transfigure them into sunglasses, start playing a song my Muggleborn counterparts identified as "Won't Get Fooled Again" by The Who, scream "YEAH!" and then disappear underneath what was presumably his Invisibility Cloak. This reporter believes such behavior speaks for itself.
