broom Breaking News
| (Ramsgate) A revolting restaurant ruled that a
ridiculous reptile was required to reschedule their sinking popularity. Since attempting to advertise, the opulent owner owned that only one rheumatic reptile came up, wearing red ribbons and | offered officiously to prepare a rice pudding, laughing loudly until its ribs cracked. So, should any rumbustious reptiles without a liking for lusty rice pudding read this report, call the callous revolting restaurant! (MF) |
|
(Hong Kong) A Harassed harbour master of Hong Kong committed harakiri after
a heavy hate campaign. | when heaved hard to the swerving side of a sinking ship. Heavy-handed handling of the affair highly hindered several soothing attempts. So the sad hectored harbour master made his elevating exit. (DD) |
broom-e-gram
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November 1 Ouch, oh my... This year's Halloween party was really cool,
but our heads are splitting - oh dear... November 4 It seems as if Brian actually proposed marriage to Moaning Myrtle at the Halloween feast. We're working to confirm the rumours. November 7 Yes, he did. And Myrtle isn't the ghost to let him off easily. However, there'll be a way to free him. November 9 One of Brian's more disappointed fans suggested the best way to get him out of the scrap he brought himself to was to send him to Azkaban. We're working on that now. |
November 12 Okay, well, seems as if getting him into Azkaban was
no problem at all. Sorry, Brian, we were perhaps a bit over-enthusiastic. Now
we're working on getting you out again! November 20 We applied to the Ministry and actually managed to convince them that they mixed Brian up with someone else. Incidentally... The wizard called Brian MacFarlane should run for it! November 28 Another broom has to be finished. No time for any broom-e-gram, too much work to be done, bye!! |
The Ministry Strikes Back?
|
(Ministry of Magic) During one of our long sessions at the Ministry of
Magic, waiting for a hearing because of crimes we really never committed, we
took the time to find a new interviewee. we found someone willing to talk to
us in Mafalda Hopkirk, employee at the Improper Use of Magic Office. BC: Hi, Miss Hopkirk. Nice to finally meet you in person. MH: I beg your pardon? BC: Well, I'm Brian Cullen, and that's Mike Flatley, and you are the friendly lady sending us all these kind warnings. MH: I'm sending you official letters because you constantly break the law! BC: Now, now, Miss Hopkirk, that's a bit too hard, I think. we sometimes bend it and stretch it, but it's proved quite flexible. |
MH: I do not think that you will find the law as flexible as it has
been so far. The next warning will involve an official ban of your disgusting
magazine. BC: Disgusting? There is no 'D' in the acronym broom, is there, Mike? See! Mike says no. MH: Your magazine has been waging war against the Ministry and Magical Law Enforcement ever since it was founded. You were responsible for the sacking of the last Minister. BC: Our finest moment, getting rid of Cornelius Fudge. It was just so elating to see our power. MH: It was outrageous and scandalous! You can't just campaign against a Minister just because you happen to disagree with him. It's so... so... |
BC: So what? That's politics, my dear. And we've got freedom of the
press. Hell, we had freedom of the press before the Muggles even began to
print newspapers! MH: That freedom can be restrained in times of crisis, as you well know. BC: So there is a crisis? Do tell me more, hasn't the Ministry said there was no crisis at all - what with just some killings and disappearances but otherwise calm? MH: No, the Ministry does admit that there is a lot going wrong, the Muggles are affected as well which is always a bad sign, and... BC: Miss Hopkirk, thank you so much for the interview. Finally the Ministry made an official statement backing what broom has said for months. Folks, there's a war going on! Resistance Rocks! (BC) |
broom's Best Bad Boy Board
|
Although Sebastian Cook’s plan to get into the Ministry worked very well,
the prophecy was lost and the Death Eaters leading the attack were caught and
sent to Azkaban, among them Cook’s uncle Avery. It left Voldemort’s return exposed to the Wizarding World and the Death Eaters suddenly weren’t in the position to attack any longer. They had to defend themselves against renewed Ministry activities and open assaults by the Order of the Phoenix. And Sebastian Cook was amongst them, cursing his own fate and fighting the more viciously for feeling thoroughly cheated. His first victim was his girlfriend Laura. He killed her smoothly, and her body was found with an expression of utmost surprise on her face in her flat. Neither Philomena nor Colin heard from their son, but they had gone into hiding anyway. They had moved, and Colin even kept Athena the owl inside. Life had worsened, and Colin used to blame his wife for that. If she had not been a witch, he would never have been in such a trouble. Sebastian went on with Muggle-baiting. You surely remember that bridge collapsing and killing so many innocent people. That was Cook’s work – okay, not his alone, but chiefly his thanks to the facts he had picked up when his dad was talking about Muggle life. He is also said to have been present at the murder of Amelia Susan Bones. And we have no idea what he is up to now. However, one thing is certain. He did return to Hogwarts. In the night of Albus Dumbledore’s death and Severus Snape’s flight, Cook was there. He had followed the Death Eaters |
through the Vanishing Cabinet and fought against the
members of the Order. Unfortunately neither of your revered editors was there
that night (which perhaps was lucky since we’re no great fighters), so we can
give you no first-hand account. Anyway, we have to admit that the deeds of the last year really made Sebastian Cook a really bad Best Bad Boy. A deluded killer, someone who feels wronged by both sides, is much more dangerous than just a stupid Death Eater of the likes of Lucius Malfoy, our big spender. Hunt him down, Aurors, and we do hope you get him real fast. And now, dear readers, you have to do some things for us. First, make sure you’re safe and well. Second, watch our for Sebastian Cook and his fellows, and if you don’t feel very, very confident, do not fight them but call for help and hide. And third, do vote for the next Best Bad Boy. Perhaps you might even show some taste and vote for us? Anyway, these are the Bad Boys you can choose from: 1. Brian Cullen and Mike Flatley aka Masters of Disasters 2. Albus Dumbledore aka Mr For the Greater Good 3. The Stupid Boy aka Harry Potter 4. Bellatrix Lestrange aka I've killed Sirius 5. You Know Who aka Tom Marvolo Riddle 6. Dolores Umbridge aka Head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission 7. Roland Banks aka I've got no nickname May the worst man - or woman - win! |
The Moon Over Wogharts
| The sea was
rather rough that day, but Asher Devereux did not care. He loved the wind, and
he loved the frequent gushes of water that hit his face. He loved the feeling
of salt on his face – and the knowledge that he was free. Free for a few weeks,
surely, although… “Captain Morton!” Asher called. The captain turned around.
“Yes, Mr Devereux?” he asked politely. “How long will it take us to get to
Plymouth?” Asher asked. “Oh, with such a wind…” Morton closed one eye and
stared knowingly at the horizon. “The day after tomorrow you will be ashore,
sir,” he concluded. “The day after tomorrow!” Asher exclaimed, then recovered
speedily: “Well, how nice. Thank you, captain.” Suddenly all the wind was not pleasant any longer. Asher decided to go below deck to his cabin. There he opened his suitcase and took out a silver frame that held a portrait of a young lady with blond hair and a sweet smile. Lillian Whitewater, daughter of the governor of Maryland. Asher had met her when his father had sent him to Maryland to lead the firm there. But his father had also told him to marry Shaughnessy’s daughter. “Oh Lillian,” Asher sighed and kissed the portrait fondly. He had barely put the frame back into his suitcase when shouts came from above: “Pirates! Pirates! To the weapons!” Asher started and dashed to the window. Indeed, there was a ship with black sails fast approaching. Asher smiled grimly. Perhaps dying of a pirate’s hand was better than losing Lillian. Nevertheless, he grabbed his set of duelling pistols and ran above deck. Lieutenant Roach stopped him: “You are to stay below deck, Mr Devereux. We |
don’t want you to be hurt.” “With all due respect, I…” Asher began, but Roach
interrupted: “You are to stay below deck, orders of your father and future
father-in-law.” Grudgingly, Asher turned and walked back to his cabin where he
took up station at the window. The black-sailed ship was very close now, close
enough to see all the grizzly details that were so much part of the terror the
pirates inspired: a skeleton on the forecastle, the black and ragged-looking
sails, the skull with the crossing bones instead of the country’s colours. And
the figures discernible as small as ants, but growing bigger fast. Asher
gripped his pistols more tightly. “Hullo, there!” Sean called over to the merchant’s ship. “We will fight you, pirate scum!” yelled a seaman from the Lavish Lady. The crew of the Black Piranha howled with laughter. “I advise you to do nothing of the kind,” Sean said sharply. “Let’s kill them all,” Red Sara called ferociously. Sean held up his hand. “No, wait. In case you don’t know yet: I killed your master. I am Sean MacFee, and you have something on board that I want to have.” “We are not in a position to give you anything,” the captain said stiffly. “Indeed. Anything,” Sean said and bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “And how about – anybody?” Morton looked at the pirate. “I surrender myself if you leave the crew alive,” he said. “Brave of you, captain,” Sean acknowledged. “Where is Asher Devereux?” Morton quickly cast a glance over his shoulder. Roach gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Who?” Morton asked. “You wouldn’t make it on the Drury Lane stages,” Sean said derisively. “Hand him over, and nothing will happen to your crew.” |
“What, really?” a young voice asked excitedly behind Sean. Red Sara turned and
had to laugh. “Kit. You shouldn’t be here at all,” she told the ten-year-old
boy who held his knife like one of the old and experienced pirates. Kit shrugged. “We don’t kill if we don’t have to,” Sean informed the boy. “Did you hear that?” he challenged the crew of the Lavish Lady. “If you hand over your guest, none of you will come to harm. And even your goods will stay untouched.” “That’s an offer, sir,” said a seaman to Captain Morton. “We don’t surrender to blackmail,” Morton answered. “Captain, you’re making a mistake,” Sean said icily and gave two pirates a nod. The two men jumped over and took hold of Morton and Roach. “Tell us where Devereux is, and that will be the last you see of us,” Sean ordered. Suddenly a young man appeared on deck. “I am Asher Devereux. What do you want from me?” he asked. Morton groaned. “We would have dealt with it, Devereux,” he said through gritted teeth. Asher laughed bitterly. “You would have been killed eventually. So, Mr MacFee, what do you want?” Sean smiled. “A talk. Come to my ship, Mr Devereux. Good day, Captain.” Sean tipped his forehead mockingly and waited until the two pirates had escorted Asher on board. The Black Piranha set her sails and gathered speed soon. “I am taking you away, Mr Devereux, for more privacy. I don’t like Shaughnessy’s cannons,” Sean said pleasantly as he led Asher through the corridor towards the captain’s cabin. Asher entered. “Why did you want to talk to me?” he asked. Sean smiled. “Patricia Shaughnessy.” |
Happy Holiday, Severus!
Misunderstanding Muggle Magazines|
(A classroom somewhere out there in the Muggle world) We here at broom, always keen on reading Muggle magazines, stumbled across a sort of teaching paper (name is known to the editors). |
of magazines’. Not being the brightest ourselves we had to hand this figure over to our
brightest (and only one) head-mathematician. |
However, the much more interesting question is how many percent were done with broom? |
|
Looking for Muffins |
therefore we decided to give it a go. Certain Misters Crabbe and Goyle are looking for two halves of muffins. These originate from two muffins. They were last seen in the hands of the above mentioned. The two halves might have been filled with a sleeping draft for Misters Goyle and Crabbe fell asleep after the first bite. |
that it was one of the searched for muffins or that our article was boring. |