The Bear and Barnacle

“There are guns, knives of all sorts, spears, bows and arrows, and of course, your wand,” Rodolphus says, slowly getting to his feet and making his way to the bar. “But I want to remind you that anything, anything! can be used as a weapon, either for offense or defense. Even rocks, though their range and accuracy is limited. This for example.” He picks up a chopstick from the bar and holds it up, examining it. “Even this can be used as a weapon.” He saunters back to his table, where two people are seated, immobile, staring at nothing. “Don’t believe me?” he grins around. “Watch!” And he places the chopstick at the eye of the bushy-haired girl and pushes slowly, with steady pressure. There isn’t an audible sound, but the end of the chopstick disappears. The girl doesn’t react at all; she just continues sitting and staring, a half-centimeter of chopstick embedded in her eye. “You have to be careful not to go too far, too fast,” Rodolphus explains, a professor delivering a lecture. “Or you’ll penetrate the brain case before you’re ready.” He withdraws the chopstick, its end now glistening with eyeball jelly. “There aren’t many things worse than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick,” Rodolphus chuckles. “But there are things just as bad.” And he takes the chopstick and jams it into the ear of the gangly red-headed boy at the table. The chopstick goes in a bit farther this time. Again, there is no reaction to the assault. Rodolphus pulls out the now-sticky chopstick. “Have to see if the Bertie Bott’s people might want this,” he says, appraising the goo. “So you see,” he goes on, propping his elbow on the head of the girl, who now has a shiny trail running down her face. “Just about anything you can put your hands on can be used as a weapon.” He tosses the chopstick on the table. “As for my favourite,” he shrugs, “whatever does the most damage.”

Rodolphus normally paid about as much attention to the weather as he did to the state of his fingernails. But now, finished with the young man snatched because of his resemblance to Harry Potter (he had dark hair and green eyes. Close enough), he realised it was stifling in the little shack on the beach he’d appropriated for his own. There weren’t any windows and the only door was shut and sealed so he wouldn’t be interrupted. Of course, there was a silencing charm on the place. It wouldn’t do for the screams of his victims to be heard. He surveyed the blood-soaked room, extremely pleased with himself. But Merlin it was hot! Normally, dismembering didn’t work up nearly this much of a sweat. He ran his arm across his forehead, leaving a red smear behind. He decided to go for a swim, just as soon as he put the crowning touch on the afternoon. Rodolphus picked up the skull at set it almost reverently on the shelf he’d prepared. It was the first of many he planned to decorate the shack with, and his only regret was that it wasn't the real thing. Rodolphus smiled into the green eyes he’d preserved in the skull, settling a pair of glasses procured for the occasion precariously on the face. It was hard to balance them properly as there wasn't any nose. “Don’t worry Harry,” he crooned, patting the bony, bloody cheek. “You won’t be alone for long.” Bugger all but this heat was murder! Rodolphus opened the door, squinting into the blazing sun. It was lower than he’d expected. He’d spent more time with Harry than he’d realised. He also realised that it was far hotter than it ought to be for January. Not his problem. He’d earned a respite and the water would cool him off as well as wash away all the blood. Amazing how far the stuff sprayed. Rodolphus stripped down and headed for the surf. He'd tidy up later. Maybe.

Rodolphus had worked up quite an appetite, playing with one of his toys, so after disposing of the evidence, he ambled over to the pub. Order given, with instructions to bring the food as quickly as possible, Rodolphus reached for the first of his beers. His hand brushed the fork of the place setting as he did and...




There was no 'poof', no sparkle or flash of light. Just a half-meter long skull sitting on his plate. Rodolphus' eyes widened in surprised delight. "Where did you come from?" he murmured, caressing one of the tusks.

Tricks Gone Bad!

From The Kent Chronicle

Margate residents got some extra frights last night when several executive members of the Thanet District Council were seen in situations that can only be described as shocking. William Severs, eight and his older sister Mary, eleven, were accosted on their way home from a Halloween party by a man they identified as Norman Francis. Francis grabbed young William and tried to force him into a car. The boy’s struggles and his sister’s screams attracted a passer-by who wrestled briefly with the man before Francis ran off. The Good Samaritan, Roger Miller, as well as Mary Severs, recognised Francis, a ten-year member of the council. “I voted for the b*****d,” Miller told this reporter in disgust. Miss Severs said she recognised Miller from a talk he gave at her school. “He tried to grab my brother,” the young lady said indignantly. “He’s a bad man.” Little William Severs was distraught, both by the attempted abduction and the fact that all of his Halloween candy ended up in the gutter. Vicky Severs, mother of the two children, says she plans to pursue criminal charges against Francis. “He should rot in jail! Who knows what else he’s done?”
( Read more... )

Under the pretext of finding out what he needed to do to get a driving license, Rodolphus had a legitimate reason for being in the Margate Council building. He’d even been polite when the lady behind the counter handed him a booklet and several photocopied sheets of paper. He’d gone into the gents and then, using the Tarnhelm Effect, he was able to wander unnoticed through the building. He didn’t try to open any doors or get into anything. He watched. Muggles had people who did the cleaning, just like house elves, only they called them janitors. And it was the janitors he studied. He found the room in the basement where they kept the supplies, and since no one noticed him, he was able to listen and find out that someone named Tony was the night man here. Perfect! Satisfied with his reconnaissance, Rodolphus left.

( Read more... )

From the Kent Chronicle

In a not entirely unexpected development, the Thanet District Council today announced the resignation of the three member rubbish removal committee in the wake of the disastrous ‘rain of fish’ that has plagued the city since summer. Herschel Daulton, Mary Worth, and Charles Warren all cited exhaustion as the main reason for their leaving. “It was a bloody nightmare,” Daulton told this reporter. “Not just the fish you know, but the cats and rats and bugs that came along in the aftermath. And the squabbling over the money didn’t help. My Gran was on the Council during the war and I’d be hard pressed to say who had the worst of it. I don’t think any of us will be able to eat fish and chips again.” No special election is planned to fill the vacancies; the executive committee will assume the duties of the rubbish removal committee, pending naming other council members to the seats. Final tallies are not yet available, but it is estimated that the total cost of the clean-up will run in excess of £ 20,000.

From the Kent Chronicle

MAYORS INJURED IN AUTO ACCIDENT

The mayors of Margate, Ramsgate and Broadstairs were involved in a single car accident on the A255 yesterday when their car suffered a blowout and careened into a ditch. Margate Mayor Brian Wilson suffered a broken arm and various contusions and abrasion. Ramsgate Mayor Liam Butler broke a finger trying to get out of the car. Broadstairs Mayor Tom Shaw, who was driving, sustained the most serious injuries including a dislocated sternum and fractured ribs when he was thrown into the steering wheel. The car was equipped with airbags, but they did not deploy upon impact. The three were on their way to a charity golf outing at the Dyke Golf Club in Brighton.
When he was available for comment at East Kent Hospital, Mayor Shaw said the accident was a complete mystery. “I don’t recall running over anything that might have caused a puncture,” he said. “And I had new tyres put on just last month.” When asked about the airbags, the mayor had no comment, saying only that the matter would be thoroughly investigated. “I just thank god none of us were more badly hurt,” Mayor Shaw said fervently. Mayor Butler said he didn’t recall running over anything either. “All I know is one minute we’re sailing along, laughing and the next we’re all over the road screaming.” He expressed wishes for a speedy recovery for Mayor Shaw. Mayor Wilson, who was sitting in the back seat, said he didn’t notice anything unusual. “Funny about those airbags though,” he said. “I’ve never known them not to work.”

While Mayors Wilson and Butler will be able to perform their duties on the Thanet District Council, Mayor Shaw will be out indefinitely recovering from his injuries. The deputy mayor, David Jones, will assume mayoral duties on a temporary basis.

From the Kent Chronicle

Margate- Fire roared through a block of shops on Churchfield Place, causing an as-yet undetermined amount of damage. Declared a total loss however, was Stearns’ Antiques and Collectibles, an upscale establishment that caters to the tourist trade. “It’s a shame really,” proprietor Thomas Stearns said. “Everything’s insured yeah, but some of these pieces were one of a kind.” Fire Chief Peter Brown said the cause of the fire was under investigation and that arson could not been ruled out at this point. “We’re checking everything,” Chief Brown told reporters. He also urged people to stay away from the scene, saying it was dangerous and he didn’t want the investigating team pestered by onlookers.

Firefighter Brian Davis was injured when a chimney collapsed on him. He was taken to Margate Hospital, where he is listed in guarded condition with a concussion.

Stearns, a strong front-runner for a seat on the Thanet District Council, had no comment on how this situation might affect his campaign.

Rodolphus was in the bathroom, shaving. He was using an old-fashioned straight razor because he liked the way the cool metal felt on his skin. He tilted his head and pulled the skin taut over his jawbone. This part was always the trickiest and he took it slowly, just gliding the blade along. DING DONG! The doorbell sounded and Rodolphus started, slicing himself neatly. He cursed and dabbed at the cut, which was running blood down his neck. Before he could do a healing charm, the bell sounded once more. He swore again, and sulfurously, when he recalled that Lucius kept no house elf. Rodolphus pounded down the stairs, bare-chested, shaving foam on his face and bloody, the razor still clutched in his hand. He yanked the door open. “WHAT?!” he roared.

Rodolphus was sound asleep when an unexpected noise woke him. He’d long since developed the ability to go from deep sleep to animal alertness in seconds and that had saved his life on more than one occasion. He reached under the pillow for his wand. He wasn’t quite sure what the noise was. It hadn’t been thunder or anything like that though. It had felt like his bed was actually shaking. Muttering lumos softly, he shone the light around the room. Not seeing anything suspicious, Rodolphus lay back down. He wasn’t going back to sleep however, but he did close his eyes and slow his breathing, just in case. After half-an-hour by his internal clock had passed, Rodolphus was ready to go back to sleep. Still holding his wand, he turned over. And kept turning over until he fell right out of bed! Something or someone had pushed him! Leaping to his feet with a snarl, he brandished his wand, stunning spell on his lips. Words failed him utterly though when he saw who was sitting on his bed. “Bella!” he croaked. “Oh my Bella, you’ve come back to me!” He made to scoop her up into his arms, but they went right through her. She gave a laugh at his bewildered expression and perched herself on the pillows. “I’m sorry my love, but I’m still dead.”

from the Kent Messenger

Margate- Residents and tourists in the seaside resort town got a bit of unexpected weather yesterday when a rain of fish suddenly dropped on a quiet block near the beach. The rain began at approximately 8:05AM GMT and ended some ten minutes later. Professor Fred Windbright of the Royal Meteorological Society theorised that the fish (which were mostly deep-sea dwellers) might have been the result of a water spout in the Atlantic. “They’re like Hoovers you know, waterspouts,” he commented. “Suck up anything in their path and then when the wind goes, it just drops. Not an unheard of phenomenon. Rare though, certainly. There was a rain of frogs in Essex a couple of years ago.” Naturally, this has caused some consternation for the town council, who will be meeting in emergency session to try to decide what to do about the mess. Local homeless advocates are chivying for saving the fish to feed the needy. The local animal shelter has been overwhelmed with calls to come and remove various cats, dogs, birds and other animals that are helping themselves to the bounty. The waste removal force is already complaining about the extra work this means for them, busy as they are with the increased rubbish of the season. “My lads will be clocking up the overtime,” said R P Taylor, supervisor of the local union. “I just want to know who’s going to pay for it all.” Residents of the house where the majority of the fish landed refused to speak to reporters.

He’d been on the run for so long it seemed he could scarcely recall a time when he wasn’t. After being left for dead at the Battle of Hogwarts, he’d escaped and managed to stay hidden until his wounds had healed. Then, he’d just wandered. Anywhere and everywhere it seemed. He’d fallen in with smugglers soon after he’d healed. Working just outside of Perth, he’d been an enforcer for a gang, a task he was eminently suited for. That had ended when a dispute over territory left key members of two gangs the victims of a group entrail-expelling curse. The dock warehouse had gotten rather messily redecorated and he’d gotten two suitcases full of money. So all in all, it hadn’t been too bad, even if he did have to work with muggles. Muggles! Merlin how he hated them! It was ironic that he was safer with them then with his own kind. And so he just…drifted. Glasgow, Edinburgh, Cardiff, Liverpool, Swansea. All the bigger cities where a stranger wouldn’t get a second glance. He avoided London though. No sense begging for trouble. He’d let his hair grow out and grown a beard and mustache as a disguise of sorts. But he had no purpose any more. All he’d held dear was gone. Revenge, of course he wanted revenge. That could wait though. Wait until they didn’t expect it. And it would be all the sweeter for the waiting. But there was something, some niggling something that seemed to be calling to him. Not all the time. Sometimes months would pass and he’d feel nothing. Then, out of the blue, there it would be and he’d be off again. He had no idea what it might be. He didn’t dare hope, he just went. Finally, finally, he came to Margate. Here, whatever it was that had been calling him seemed to tell him. It’s here. He walked down the streets, noticing the shops and inns that were being readied for the summer tourists. He saw nothing and no one familiar. He ended up on a lonely stretch of beach, with only the distant cry of seagulls for company. “Show me,” he murmured to the air. “SHOW ME!” he bellowed, his face reddening. The only answer was the pounding of the waves. He picked up a rock and heaved it angrily out into the ocean. Then, Rodolphus Lestrange turned and stalked off toward the town.