Welcome to the first edition of the Ravenclaw Quibbler! This month’s issue delves into the topic of mythical creatures and features articles, interviews, and editorials by the members of Ravenclaw House. We hope you enjoy our exploration of the wizarding magazine often referred to as “rubbish” and “trite.” We find Luna’s favorite magazine a fascinating look into the wizarding world, and wish you happy reading as well!
myownmuggle
Ratings and Warnings: 1st-2nd Years/None
To the Editor of The Quibbler:
I was most disturbed by the recent announcement by so-called Muggle scientists. Pluto, long regarded as the most important of the solar system’s planets, is utterly critical to the survival of the endangered Umgubular Slashkilter. And, as you well know my esteemed sir, the Umgubular Slashkilter is essential to the survival of our beloved turnip industry. Accordingly, the Umgubular Slashkilter was afforded special protection by the Ministry of Magic under a secret act passed more that four hundred years ago. The unique chemicals found in the Umgubular Slashkilter’s spoor and decomposing remains provides the solitary fertilizer which allows turnips to grow in this part of the world.
The Umgubular Slashkilter lives the majority of its life in a single patch or field of turnips, providing essential nutrients and enriching the soil. The Umgubular Slashkilter leaves its patch toward the end of its life to return to the field where it was born in order to conduct it’s highly secretive mating rituals. (See our special insert at pages seven and eight for rare photographs of the Umgubular Slashkilter and it’s migration and mating rituals.) I have been advised by reliable sources in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures that this is very much like the spawning of salmon in the Muggle world. Once the Umgubular Slashkilter completes its mating ritual, the female kills and eats her partner before laying her precious cargo of eggs. The female dies and its body protects the eggs by an odor, which keeps away predators. The female’s body also nourishes the young turnip plants.
The eggs, of course, hatch and the next generation of Umgubular Slashkilters migrate to the turnip fields in far flung corners of Britain. So the cycle of fertilization, life, and death continues and allows witches and wizards everywhere to feast on turnips year-round. The turnip’s roots and leaves are also known to have great medicinal properties.
This cycle of migration and mating only occurs when Pluto rises in the proper house and aspect. Sibyll Trelawney, Professor of Divination at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been quoted as saying that any changes in planetary status could have detrimental and devastating atmospheric effects.
Unless we can protect Pluto’s status, the delicate life cycle of the Umgubular Slashkilter will suffer severe side effects. This will create a ripple effect causing the extinction of a cherished resident of the magical world and a beloved root vegetable.
The Ministry’s apparent lack of reaction to the recent announcement is most unseemly. We must take action ourselves to safeguard the Umgubular Slashkilter. Please sir, help us defend the Umgubular Slashkilter by calling for Pluto’s restoration to planet status. By doing so, you will be protecting one of our most valuable industries.
A rally in support of P.U.S.S. (Protect the Umgubular Slashkilter Society) will be held in Diagon Alley on Thursday at half past three in the afternoon.
Archie Niles Aberforth
President, P.U.S.S.
RC Turnips Ltd.
What Does it Have to Do With Heliopaths?
Emily_the_poet
Rating and Warnings: Conspiracy theories and brief mentions of character death
Heliopaths… Have you ever seen one? I highly doubt it, as all who see it don’t tell the tale, for they have been driven mad by the blinding light of the sight that is the life force of a Heliopath. However, have you ever come across a burn that rips straight across your front yard? Have you ever found bits of ash around your neighbourhood that just couldn’t be explained?
I have it from an inside source (who wished to remain anonymous) from the Ministry of Magic that the very Heliopaths that we trust the Ministry of Magic to protect us from, have indeed been used for selfishness and political gain!
How exactly have they been misused you ask? The burning of Rufus Scrimgeour’s home this past month was clearly the work of a Heliopath. The entire surrounding area was scorched to smithereens. The house went up so fast that it could have only been the work of Heliopaths! The walls were crushed under the heat he foundations crumbled from the heat. Regretfully, his wife and visiting children were killed quickly, and bodies are yet to be found. The Minister was working late at this time and remains unharmed.
Now this could easily be the work of You-Know-Who, but does You-Know-Who have a ministry spokesperson willing to sit down with him? Again, the spokesperson wished to remain anonymous, but during a cup of tea and some biscuits, this reporter got the man to loosen his lips. The conversation that ensued was somewhere along the lines of this:
Spokesperson: I shouldn’t even be hear right now, but the truth needs to be known.(is a bit jittery)
Marty Davis: It’s okay; just tell me when you’re ready.
Sp: It’s kind of hard to say anything… I’ve been quiet so long. I was fired last week, (muttering unintelligibly, but something about no freedom of speech and conspiracy is barely heard) and when I tried to tell the Daily Prophet they just laughed in my face. At least the Quibbler will listen.
MD: That’s our job; to listen to stories that no one else will.
Sp: (Smiling) I’d hoped so. Anyways, I was down in the break room last Tuesday, before those jerks fired me that is, when I saw a security troll letting someone without a key into the vaults. I can’t say who it was; I don’t know, but there was something off about that man. He gave me a strange feeling in my back. I got arthritis you see, but that’s in my fingers. I felt it in my spine. When I came out of the break room a few minutes later, I went to the troll and asked him about it. All he’d do was grunt at me, stupid brute. Anyways, I saw Fudge, you know the old minister, come out of the vault a few minutes later. He seemed a bit fatter when he went out than when he went in, if you catch my drift.
MD: Are you accusing Fudge of six counts of murder and arson too?
Sp: No, oh heavens no, but I might be saying that he “accidentally” “dropped” one of the jars that held a Heliopath and it “accidentally” shattered unleashing the Heliopath. All this was an accident of course. (Winks)
MD: Is this why you believe Fudge has been missing?
Sp: I think he miscalculated the power of a Heliopath and was coincidentally incinerated.
MD: Seems a bit far to go for a bit of power doesn’t it?
Sp: (Conspiratorial whisper) How should I know? I never had much power. However, how would you feel if you were on top of the ministry one day and had it all ripped out from under you the next? Fudge fell hard. Maybe he was a bit hurt when he got back up… Maybe he wanted to hurt the bully?
MD: Oh Mr. (name omitted) my poor little heart just can’t take it… maybe we could continue this discussion at a later date?
Sp: That would be fine, mademoiselle…
As you can see, what was supposed to be a brief interview quickly turned into a conversation rife with conspiracy and unproven accusations. The very thought of Fudge, whom I have met and who seemed quite stable at the time, harming anything makes my heart flutter.
Either way, be on the lookout for Heliopaths in your neighbourhood. They are very dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.
Marty Davis,
Signing off
of the Creature Known as the Wrackspurt
Chaser74
Rating and Warnings: 1st-2nd years/None
A/N: All spelling variations and language errors when spoken by Ms. Valerie Vickson are deliberate.
So little is known about the allusive beast we call the Wrackspurt. Previous research has concluded that it is an invisible animal that only makes itself known by floating into its victim’s ear and interrupting their train of thought. “It made my brain go all fuzzy,” recounts Valerie Vickson, who claims to have encountered a Wrackspurt on at least five occasions.
“What led you to believe that it was a Wrackspurt affecting you, Ms. Vickson?” I ask. She looks vaguely uncomfortable.
“I felt somethin’ wrigglin’ around in me ears. Then, suddenly, I can’t remember what I was doin’, or even thinkin’ about. Very annoying, it be.” I nod at her.
“I would suspect it is. Could you describe the sensation further?”
“Prickly. Pins and needles that make their way up into me head and into me thoughts.”
“That does sound uncomfortable. You say you have come across several Wrackspurts. Could you-“
“Rather they have come across me.”
“Yes. Anyways, as I was saying, do you think there is a way that we could actually see them?” At this question, she appears thoughtful.
“Well, me grandfather did make somethin’…” I am intrigued.
“Yes? It is it a spell? A potion? I myself have been experimenting with certain colored fungi that when fed to a Wrackspurt may-“
“Whoa, slow down, Missy. Nah, ain’t either of those. Special glasses he made. Wrackvision, he called. A bit cuckoo, me grandfather.” Despite the fact that Mr. Vickson senior may have, in fact, been insane, I’m interested in this Wrackvision.
“Wrackvision?” I question.
“’Twas called that, yes.”
“Could you elaborate?”
“Glasses, I believe they were. Put ‘em on, you see the Wrackies.”
“Any ideas on how they worked?”
“Nah, and I doubt they even did. Grandpa was crazy, remember?” I am dejected, but not completely disheartened.
“Is there anything else you could tell me about the Wrackspurt?” I go in for one last piece of information.
“Don’t know much about the Wrackies, ‘cept for they keep gettin’ in me ears. I’ve told you all I know.” She is growing agitated, and I suspect my welcome is wearing thin.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Vickson. I’ll let myself out.”
~*~
Ms. Vickson is an example of one of the hundreds of people who have encountered the Wrackspurt, yet the Ministry refuses to acknowledge its existence. This may or may not be because of the Wrackspurt’s invisibility; however I attribute it to ignorance. Now, they will have a hard time refuting the evidence of the Wrackspurt’s credibility, because I present to you, readers of the Quibbler, proof of a living Wrackspurt.
Now, you are probably wondering how in the world I got such an exclusive picture of a creature that is said to be invisible. Well, through thorough study of magical fungi and their properties, I concocted a potion that when fed to a Wrackspurt, will cause not them, but their young, to turn entirely visible. Placements of this potion throughout Ms. Valerie Vickson’s home yielded to her discovery of nearly ten visible baby Wrackspurts.
With time, I hope to gain a greater knowledge of the Wrackspurts and their ways. I have taken some of the young into captivity for observation, which so far has been quite informative. I hope that my study sheds light on the misunderstood specie of the Wrackspurt. In next month’s Quibbler will be a follow-up piece on the well-being of the baby Wrackspurts.
Allison Darcy, the Quibbler
Gmariam
Rating and Warnings: 1st - 2nd years / None
Nargle Infestation Attacks Local Muggle Village.
The Ministry of Magic had its hands full this past winter weekend as both the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes were called to the Muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon to deal with an infestation of nargles.
“It was the worst we’ve ever seen,” said head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Newt Scamander III. “We needed six handlers to deal with the nargles alone, not to mention a team from both the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad and the Obliviator Division to contain the exposure.”
Nargles, as most wizarding children know, are tiny creatures that live in clumps of mistletoe. They are often confused with both pixies and fairies, though upon closer examination they bear little resemblance to either. They are usually six to eight inches tall and may be red, white, or green in color, allowing them to blend in with the mistletoe. They have the head of pixie, the large insectoid wings of the fairy, and the furry body of a puffskien. Like the puffskein, they prefer to scavenge for their food, and emit a low humming noise when content. But like the pixie, nargles delight in practical jokes, particularly on unsuspecting Muggles who have brought them into their homes.
Muggles have developed the curious habit of taking mistletoe and tying it into sprigs which they hang about their house during the Christmas season. According to their popular myths, a couple discovered standing underneath one of these sprigs is obliged to kiss each other. The custom has spread to many wizarding houses as well, though mistletoe is more often found in the potions cupboard than in the doorway.
According to sources at the scene, a local Muggle shop had procured a large number of sprigs and distributed them throughout the village. Strange reports of nargle attacks began to surface immediately. A young couple who had decorated their home with the contaminated mistletoe awoke the next day to find their entire house repainted and rearranged by a particularly large infestation. A woman who claimed to be attacked by “holiday-colored pygmy bats” was admitted to the local hospital with her hair braided in one hundred knots. A small child was carried away by pack of the pests who had taken a liking to her. When found by local police, the girl claimed to have “flown away with the pretty butterflies.”
“It’s as bad as it gets,” said Arthur Weasley, a wizarding resident from just outside Ottery St. Catchpole. He alerted officials to the problem when his twin sons returned home with an infested sprig and tales of Muggle mayhem in the village.
“The locals were wigging out,” said George Weasley, describing his experience. “There was a run on food and water as people left town as fast as they could, with nargles chasing after them throwing berries at their backs.”
The mass evacuation of the village made the job particularly difficult for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad was called in to provide cover: residents were informed by trained wizards that runoff from the local chemical plant had resulted in the mutation of a number of harmless birds. They were encouraged to return to the village, where they were immediately seen by the Obliviator Division. Each and every member of the village had their memory modified. They were then given a pill and told that the dummy medication would protect against any disease the “birds” might be carrying.
As for the nargles themselves, the Pest Division rounded them up and they were released back into a protected magical sanctuary in the north. The contaminated mistletoe was burned. Officials are still trying to track down the initial source of the infestation. Preliminary reports point to the possibility of a deliberate attack. Just this morning, confidential sources report, a letter was received at the Ministry from a man calling himself “The Grinch.” He indicated that he would continue his attack on Muggle holidays, particularly Christmas, until all cause for joy and celebration was eliminated in the Muggle World. When pressed for details, the Ministry spokesman this reporter talked with denied the existence of such a letter. But our confidential sources tell us that the case has received top priority in the Auror division.
“It’s a shame,” said Arthur Weasley, a member of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and supporter of the recent Muggle Protection Act. “To think that one of our kind would wish to cause deliberate harm to a Muggle is so disheartening. They are fascinating people with unique customs and the wizarding community should respect their world and leave it in peace.”
When asked what he thought of the mysterious “Grinch,” Fred Weasley suggested that perhaps it was all a joke in good fun. “No one was seriously hurt, after all,” he said.
Steps are being taken to ensure similar problems do not arise over the course of the remaining holiday season, but ministry officials were not forthcoming on specific details. “The Ministry feels strongly that it is our duty to protect the Muggle world as well as the wizarding world from pest invasions of this magnitude. It is taking every possible precaution to ensure the safety of all British citizens,” said a Ministry spokesman in a statement released this morning.
This reporter wonders if the so-called “Grinch” may be hoping to throw another wrench in the Muggle Protection Act, or if there are darker connections to recent Death Eater activity. But it seems more likely that it is merely some small-minded wizard, green with envy and tired of sitting home alone on Christmas, hoping to spread his ill will among others. If so, the wizarding world will need more than a Muggle Protection Act to protect against the hard feelings of such a sad, sorry creature.