My dearest and loyal readers,
By now you must understand that my pink quill, beautiful and majestic though it is, can only scribble so fast and I fear I have been overworking the poor thing. However, I simply had to get this story out into the open. Merlin knows it wouldn’t have seen light of day without my keen detective ability. It was because of this talent that I managed to sniff out something [insert insanely annoying Umbridge-like giggle here] scandalous! By now you must all know about the upcoming events happening on the Pureblood calendar - Mudbloods Muggleborns and Half-Bloods simply have no excuse not to know because they’re the biggest events of the season!
This year, the first entrance into society the shy little chits will have will be in the house of hedonism itself: Krum Manor! Oh, I can’t wait to flirt with all of those boys and be whisked off of my feet by whichever dashing young chap would like to put my socks on for me for the rest of our lives. I’m sure the sex will be divine! But anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that it’s the first and quite possibly the most important event on the calendar this year and everybody upon everybody is invited! The Goyles, the Rookwoods, the Mulcibers -- you get the picture. Purebloods.
However, it was only after I did some snooping that I realised that many of the Purebloods based here in Britain will not be attending having come down with a ‘mysterious’ illness. Of course, being the FANTASTIC reporter I am, I did some further digging and found myself on the steps of Slug’s and Jigger’s Apothecary talking to a very nasally and no less hostile than usual, Alistair D’Eath who, fresh from Azkaban (and still as yet to return I might add), doesn’t seem to be at the peak of health. In fact, he seemed almost bored with my presence! Fancy that! The nerve of that boy! Gah! But never mind. I still got some fantastic quotes from him when inquiring as to business and to his health.
Me: So, Mr. D’Eath, how’s business?
Alistair: Booming, Whitehall, what’s it to you anyway?
Me: The Prophet prides itself on keeping an eye on all new businesses! It’s an important to the economy, after all.
Alistair: [snorts] I’m sure. Get lost, will you?
Me: You look quite peaky, Alistair. Why don’t you brew something and return to health?
And Alistair, who seems to be covered in little pockets where he’s picked at perhaps spots looks at me a little queerly before, and rudely I might add, slamming the door in my face. But he’s not the only one that seems to be afflicted by this mysterious illness! Yes, that’s right folks. You heard it here first. There seems to be a brewing epidemic on our hands and, interestingly enough, it seems to be affecting our Purebloods! Will the newly reinstated Minister save our heritage before it’s finally eradicated? Will he rightly dispose of the Mudblood scum that has polluted our bloodlines? It’s doubtful. The Muggle-loving blood traitor would rather see us all die first.
Lots of love sweetums’,
Drunella Whitehall. x
by 
