(no subject)
HARLEM NOCTURNE ALLEY
Friday evening. After midnight. The children are tucked in their beds with visions of the new Andretti 2004 filling their innocent heads. You think about ducking out for a quick nightcap with the missus. Perhaps a little trip into Knockturn Alley--if you dare.
Knockturn Alley, the dark counterpart to the famed Diagon Alley, has always been considered of the taboo, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent of this journal. For the average witch or wizard seeking a taste of the seedier underbelly of the magical arts, Knockturn Alley is the one-stop shop of success. However, for those who prefer to spend their time on the tamer, reliable side of life, Diagon Alley has remained a keystone in the weathered wizard world for what would seem to be forever.
All of that took a change for the worse this evening, as this journalist was privy to witness from the Leaky Cauldron after twilight.
Severus Snape, esteemed Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has always been a black ink spot on the otherwise cheerful staff. His most famous action to date took place five years ago, when he took upon the respectable and commendable task of saving the life of one Harry Potter (a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived, a.k.a. defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a.k.a. The Seeker, a.k.a. TriWizard Champion), a fact which--until this very moment--has been kept a dark skeleton in Snape's poisonous closet. Severus Snape, however, has taken to other extracurricular activities.
It was with a raucous roar of laughter that Snape and Sylvia Sinistra entered the Leaky Cauldron Friday evening, clearly inebriated prior to their sweeping entrance. Sinistra, the Astronomy professor at Hogwarts, clearly had the Potions Master under her thrawl, as it was not long before Snape and Sinistra began transfigured their robes into something more fitting and attempted a tentative tango towards the bar, clearing tables and customers as they swaggered. At one point, the formerly bitter Snape plucked a rose from a vase on the table and tucked it between his teeth.
Has love found Severus Snape and shined its rays upon his normally gloomy--albeit snarky--soul? Perhaps. However, the story complicates from here.
Formerly charged for the deaths of twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew (alive), Sirius Black has been newly instated as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. It was with a keen eye that one was able to observe the dismally depressive drinking during the merry drunken dancing between Severus Snape and Sylvia Sinistra. An even keener eye was required to note the keen eye Black kept on the pair from his dimly lit table in the corner. Finally, the show seemed to be too much for Black, who stomped out in a (jealous???) rage. The keen observer heard the loud revving of an engine (Black is rumoured to drive a flying motorbike) outside.
The drunken pair paid no particular attention to Black, and it soon became clear what had happened.
Sylvia Sinistra, a cruel but attractive woman, seems to have acquired a bedpost in recent times and is quickly searching to fill up the notches with the "wilder" professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One needed only to see Sirius Black's eyes to notice the envy and jealousy he was aiming towards Severus Snape. Little did Snape know when he signed on with Sinistra that he was dealing with a witch of the world.
With a seductive smirk and a finger perfect for wrapping men around, Sinistra seems to be deriving great enjoyment from stringing along both Black and Snape. Make no mistake: Compassion is not Sylvia Sinistra's middle name. Are Black and Snape being played the fool from the same trumpet? One can only hope that this twisted love triangle is not, in fact, the work of a witch with an agenda.
Upon Snape and Sinistra's departure, a shriek was soon heard from the heart of Diagon Alley. Merely a wand-tap away, the customers of the Leaky Cauldron fled to the scene to find . . . chaos. Heartbreak. Loss. Graffiti.
In a sadistic satire of the famed prophetic messages scrawled upon the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry four years ago, emblazoned across the doors of Gringotts in a deep scarlet paint was the phrase, 'Enemies of the heir - beware of fixed interest rates!' One can only imagine the depraved mind responsible for such a heinous re-enactment. "Our security is still bloody well tight," said one Gringotts spokesgoblin last evening. "It might be an inside job. And if you don't mind your own business, we might just forget to lock your vault one day, if you know what I mean."
No further goblins were available for questioning.
The destruction and chaos did not end there. The window of Quality Quidditch Supplies did not last through the riot untouched. Visible to all and sundry in a similar crimson paint was the cryptic warning, 'Your bludgers are only mildly alarming, and your cushioning charms are greatly inferior. You are the weakest link. Goodbye.' One can only speculate upon the severe threat behind this graffiti. Andreas Fahwellt, the rotund owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies, wrung his hands in an exclusive interview.
"I just don't know why anyone would say that!" says Fahwellt. "Our bludgers are the best you can get! The best! And what are we supposed to be linked to? Are we the weakest link to Quidditch supplies? My father must be turning over in his grave! I'd just like to see one of you dirty crooks show me a better cushioning charms. I'd like to see you try!"
Other stores hit by the Maroon Marauder were Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions ('Malkin's material fades after the first cleaning charm and her hems are often uneven.'), Eeylops Owl Emporium ('THESE ANIMALS WERE RAISED IN OWL FARMS!'), and even Ollivanders, the Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC did not manage to escape unscathed.
Mr Ollivander was unavailable for questioning, but this reporter was able to catch a glimpse at the damage done: Countless issues of Wizards and Wands (a popular adult wizard magazine) had been torn apart and charmed to hang precariously, slathered over the storefront windows of Ollivanders in a crude display of wands and wizards. Mr Ollivander's sign had been charmed to read "382 AD", rather than the "382 BC" we all know and love. Mr Ollivander, it is told, was crushed (figuratively speaking).
Friday evening. After midnight. The children are tucked in their beds with visions of the new Andretti 2004 filling their innocent heads. You think about ducking out for a quick nightcap with the missus. Perhaps a little trip into Knockturn Alley--if you dare.
Knockturn Alley, the dark counterpart to the famed Diagon Alley, has always been considered of the taboo, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent of this journal. For the average witch or wizard seeking a taste of the seedier underbelly of the magical arts, Knockturn Alley is the one-stop shop of success. However, for those who prefer to spend their time on the tamer, reliable side of life, Diagon Alley has remained a keystone in the weathered wizard world for what would seem to be forever.
All of that took a change for the worse this evening, as this journalist was privy to witness from the Leaky Cauldron after twilight.
Severus Snape, esteemed Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has always been a black ink spot on the otherwise cheerful staff. His most famous action to date took place five years ago, when he took upon the respectable and commendable task of saving the life of one Harry Potter (a.k.a. The Boy Who Lived, a.k.a. defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a.k.a. The Seeker, a.k.a. TriWizard Champion), a fact which--until this very moment--has been kept a dark skeleton in Snape's poisonous closet. Severus Snape, however, has taken to other extracurricular activities.
It was with a raucous roar of laughter that Snape and Sylvia Sinistra entered the Leaky Cauldron Friday evening, clearly inebriated prior to their sweeping entrance. Sinistra, the Astronomy professor at Hogwarts, clearly had the Potions Master under her thrawl, as it was not long before Snape and Sinistra began transfigured their robes into something more fitting and attempted a tentative tango towards the bar, clearing tables and customers as they swaggered. At one point, the formerly bitter Snape plucked a rose from a vase on the table and tucked it between his teeth.
Has love found Severus Snape and shined its rays upon his normally gloomy--albeit snarky--soul? Perhaps. However, the story complicates from here.
Formerly charged for the deaths of twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew (alive), Sirius Black has been newly instated as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. It was with a keen eye that one was able to observe the dismally depressive drinking during the merry drunken dancing between Severus Snape and Sylvia Sinistra. An even keener eye was required to note the keen eye Black kept on the pair from his dimly lit table in the corner. Finally, the show seemed to be too much for Black, who stomped out in a (jealous???) rage. The keen observer heard the loud revving of an engine (Black is rumoured to drive a flying motorbike) outside.
The drunken pair paid no particular attention to Black, and it soon became clear what had happened.
Sylvia Sinistra, a cruel but attractive woman, seems to have acquired a bedpost in recent times and is quickly searching to fill up the notches with the "wilder" professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. One needed only to see Sirius Black's eyes to notice the envy and jealousy he was aiming towards Severus Snape. Little did Snape know when he signed on with Sinistra that he was dealing with a witch of the world.
With a seductive smirk and a finger perfect for wrapping men around, Sinistra seems to be deriving great enjoyment from stringing along both Black and Snape. Make no mistake: Compassion is not Sylvia Sinistra's middle name. Are Black and Snape being played the fool from the same trumpet? One can only hope that this twisted love triangle is not, in fact, the work of a witch with an agenda.
Upon Snape and Sinistra's departure, a shriek was soon heard from the heart of Diagon Alley. Merely a wand-tap away, the customers of the Leaky Cauldron fled to the scene to find . . . chaos. Heartbreak. Loss. Graffiti.
In a sadistic satire of the famed prophetic messages scrawled upon the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry four years ago, emblazoned across the doors of Gringotts in a deep scarlet paint was the phrase, 'Enemies of the heir - beware of fixed interest rates!' One can only imagine the depraved mind responsible for such a heinous re-enactment. "Our security is still bloody well tight," said one Gringotts spokesgoblin last evening. "It might be an inside job. And if you don't mind your own business, we might just forget to lock your vault one day, if you know what I mean."
No further goblins were available for questioning.
The destruction and chaos did not end there. The window of Quality Quidditch Supplies did not last through the riot untouched. Visible to all and sundry in a similar crimson paint was the cryptic warning, 'Your bludgers are only mildly alarming, and your cushioning charms are greatly inferior. You are the weakest link. Goodbye.' One can only speculate upon the severe threat behind this graffiti. Andreas Fahwellt, the rotund owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies, wrung his hands in an exclusive interview.
"I just don't know why anyone would say that!" says Fahwellt. "Our bludgers are the best you can get! The best! And what are we supposed to be linked to? Are we the weakest link to Quidditch supplies? My father must be turning over in his grave! I'd just like to see one of you dirty crooks show me a better cushioning charms. I'd like to see you try!"
Other stores hit by the Maroon Marauder were Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions ('Malkin's material fades after the first cleaning charm and her hems are often uneven.'), Eeylops Owl Emporium ('THESE ANIMALS WERE RAISED IN OWL FARMS!'), and even Ollivanders, the Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC did not manage to escape unscathed.
Mr Ollivander was unavailable for questioning, but this reporter was able to catch a glimpse at the damage done: Countless issues of Wizards and Wands (a popular adult wizard magazine) had been torn apart and charmed to hang precariously, slathered over the storefront windows of Ollivanders in a crude display of wands and wizards. Mr Ollivander's sign had been charmed to read "382 AD", rather than the "382 BC" we all know and love. Mr Ollivander, it is told, was crushed (figuratively speaking).