Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling is the owner of these little people down below - I'm just messing around with them
MAYHEM AND MADNESS ERUPTS AS COUPLE ARE FOUND DEAD IN FAMILY HOME
Matilda Marchant reports:
It was a quiet Sunday evening in Surrey, when frantic neighbours reported the sight of steam issuing from the roof of Number Four Privet Drive. Police investigating the scene discovered three bodies, two of which were identified as Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Their faces were fixed in an expression of terror. The third body was unidentifiable, being too large for post-moterm examination. Witnesses are asked to report to Little Whinging Police Station.
The occupants of this sleepy commuter village have been shocked and astounded by the murder.
"We are too afraid to leave our homes," an elderly lady reported, clutching a bag of cat food. "We don't want to die - not yet at least."
Upon public demand for an inquiry, the Prime Minister at last reluctantly agreed to address the nation.
"There is nothing to be afraid about," he was reported as saying. "It's only a case of carbon monoxide poisioning. We're looking into it."
Critics of the Prime Minister remain sceptical.
"He's talking piffle," atall severe looking woman said, adjusting her square rimmed spectacles. "The country isin no danger from anything other than flying people on broomsticks."
Everyone has been instructed to remain within their homes. The reporters of this paper will no doubt be doing the same. Meanwhile, we'll be checking for carbon monoxide - very, very carefully.
Remus Lupin put down thepaper, and sighed sadly. There was a touch of something familiar in there - something he couldn't quite place, but it made him uneasy. The way James, his old friend of the past, had suddenly appeared out of the blue - certainly no longer at the mental institution he was meant to be at - that unnerved him beyond belief.
He looked around the cosy kitchen he was sitting in, and cursed himself for his negative thoughts. This was James' house he was sitting in, James' hospitality that was offered to him, and thanks to his old friend, he was no longer living like a tramp, shunned from society because of what hewas.
He checked his watch.
Five minutes past three.
Two figures appeared before him, on familiar - the other, a skinny frightened-looking boy, with a mop of black hair, and shockingly vivid green eyes.
"Harry?" Remus asked incredulously.
Harry didn't know what to say. A shabbily-dressed man was staring intently at him, whilst a man who claimed to be his father strolled nonchalantly around waving a wand like it was a mobile phone or something!What was he supposed to do?
"Hello," he said in a tiny voice, shrinking from the man's gaze. "Sir."
"Call him Remus, Harry," his father instructed him carelessly, pointing his wand at the large ceramic teapot. "Tea? Or just pumpkin juice?"
"Ermm...thank you..." stammered Harry. "Pumpkin juice please?"
"Is he always this nervous around people, Prongs?" Remus asked James in an undertone, as he fetched cups from the cupboard. "It wouldn't be something to do with those relatives of his, would it?"
"I've taken care of it," James said curtly, and shut the cupboard. With his back turned, he was unable to see the blanching expression on his friend's face.