The Hogwarts Headliner Text Version

Hogwarts Survival Guide, Part 3: The Bitter Cold
by Matthew Campbell

By now, some of you are probably wondering—surely Matthew knows Hogwarts isn’t all gloom and danger? And, for once, I will have to agree with you. As the seasons change and leaves depart their branches, leaving the trees barren, something magical happens at our special school. Hogwarts is still a place where danger lurks around each and every corner, but when winter break comes around and the halls become more barren themselves, there is a sense of peace I have ne’er else felt before.

So, should you find yourself in these hallowed halls over the break, let me be your personal guide to surviving—and thriving. Today's article is not just a survival guide, but a guide to living—and trust me, having spent two winters here as a boarder, I’m practically an expert!

Now, my fellow winter wanderers, this is where the real fun begins. While the cat’s away, the mice will play, and let me tell you, there is no shortage of things to do. From ice skating on the Great Lake to exploring all the hidden nooks and crannies Hogwarts hides, you truly have the world at your fingertips. Remember, we may be less monitored, but certain professors will still roam the halls. With practised stealth, you'll find plenty of chances to avoid them.

Rumour has it there are a number of secret passageways throughout the castle—and I can confirm, they’re most certainly real. As a first year, I remember the struggles of navigating this behemoth of a castle; getting lost between classes, misjudging the moving staircases, and forgetting which courtyard was which. Winter was when I truly got to know the castle in all its curiosities. Passages, both hidden and otherwise, were explored to the fullest extent until I became a resident expert. In a real sense, this castle is our home, so get to know it.

Then, there’s the joy of pranks. Just last year, I initiated a prank war with a fellow lion who had remained—all fun and games to break up the monotony of the days. Take a page out of the Weasleys’ joke book: dungbomb the upper years’ rooms for when they return, stuff the armchairs and couches with fart cushions, or, if you’re a true daredevil, aim for your favourite professor. Really teach our new Heads of House what Hogwarts is all about!

If exploration and mischief aren’t your forte, then, perhaps, you prefer the quieter life. As a relative loner myself, I, too, embrace the chance for solitude. In fact, my favourite tip for cancelling out the cold is to spend time high above the castle, where you can really reflect on the beauty of this old place. Up in the Astronomy Tower, with snowfall drifting down from the clouds, you can feel at one with the world. Whether by studying, writing Christmas cards, or just watching the world go by, I’ve lost count of the hours I’ve spent there. With a cosy blanket and some cheekily-stolen mulled wine, it really makes for the perfect escape.

But this wouldn’t be my survival guide if I didn’t also talk about the harsher sides of the cold—the ones that linger and will ice you out if you don’t prepare for them.

Here’s something any of you who have ever stayed over break will already know: loneliness is one of the most bitter colds. That’s the only true danger you’ll have to survive. Whyever it is that you’re here during the holiday, I hope you know that friendship is the best medicine—nothing cures an aching heart quicker. So, if you find yourself struggling, and the cold begins to creep in, let us, your fellow winter wanderers, warm you, for you never know what fun you might have.

I say that as someone who once knew very little about Christmas. Mine were filled with love—of that, there is no question—but they were also a reminder of loss, and so, until Hogwarts, I never celebrated traditionally. However, I do know the most important Christmas tradition, and that is that it is a time you shouldn’t ever be alone. So, to all my winter wanderers, when the day comes, I’ll be in the Great Hall, happy to welcome each and every one of you openly. We may not have a place to go this winter, but we’ll have each other, and maybe that’s the greatest gift of all.


Magical Mythos: Summoning Serendipity
by Pericles Dralt

"O fortune, fortune! All men call thee fickle." - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet [1595]

Timelessly, efforts have been made to wrangle luck—that slippery, capricious companion who arrives uninvited and vanishes when needed most. We bear charms, whisper mantras, and perform rituals to earn fortune's favour. But fate is an unpredictable thing, just as liable to bring ruin or reward. Once one tempts it, they may find spells go awry despite years of training, a formerly faithful broom bucks, or their aim is offset at a critical moment. Some days it feels as though the average witch or wizard has a one-in-twenty chance to either critically succeed or fail at any given attempt in life. We do what we can to curry karma, but become foiled by circumstances beyond our control. Our relationship with luck reveals a multifaceted blend of fear, hope, and creativity.

Every culture has its own vocabulary of luck. Some swear by the gleam of a horseshoe, the rarity of a four-leaf clover, or the stray whisker of a cat. Numbers, symbols, and even colours are assigned meanings to resonate with the universe’s hidden order. Ancient Middle-Eastern traditions prescribe spitting three times to shield against misfortune, since the number three was considered mystical. Knocking on wood, a gesture which spans multiple cultures, likely traces back to ancient paganism. Celts believed that spirits lived inside trees, and a knock on the trunk might wake them to offer protection, or serve as a polite “thank you” for a streak of favour. Even in Muggle folklore, offerings to unseen forces were often made to ensure harmony. A saucer of milk or a piece of bread could be left out for “fair folk” as both a gift and a gesture of respect, a means of saying “We acknowledge your presence, please don’t hex the garden.” From forests to kitchens, people have found creative ways to court the magic of fortune, transforming the unknown into something they could greet with ritual grace. These efforts, scattered across continents, speak the same emotional language: we cope with uncertainty by turning chance into charm.

Yet what is luck, really? A cosmic happenstance? A divine nudge? Philosophers and logicians identify it from opposing angles. To the rationalist, luck is probability, a psychological trick that makes randomness feel personal. To the spiritual, it is a sign of intention in chaos, the quiet hand of fate arranging details behind the scenes. Aristotle was a realist who saw luck as a “coincidental cause”. It may influence events, but could never determine happiness, which depends instead on personal virtue. Modern thinkers echo this, posing luck is a result of opportunity meeting readiness. Fortune springs from effort. We magical folk have a unique insight into the subject, given our power to brew liquid luck that works in the inverse. Felix Felicis seemingly grants its drinker fortune, as almost all of their efforts become successful. However, those under its influence describe it as a “sixth sense” about what to do next, which isn't altering reality itself. The potion provides a precognitive clarity, emboldening the affected and sharpening their decision-making choices. It could also be said that, as fate, prophecy, and predicting the future are interwoven in the wizarding world, it's possible (albeit strictly theoretical) that the potion opens one to the same sort of magic which Seers come by naturally, enabling them to subconsciously follow the most optimal thread of fate. They could achieve the same outcome without Felix, which merely makes success more likely.

Whether one sees luck as divine choreography or a delightful accident, our rituals persist. We still knock on wood. We cross our fingers and wear lucky socks, looking for meaning in moments that might otherwise feel meaningless. Perhaps that’s the secret charm of luck: it invites us to play with the possibility that the universe might smile back when we smile first. In that small, hopeful gesture, humanity reveals its most enchanting superstition of all: the belief that, somehow, we can coax fortune into friendship. As I knock on trees across the grounds of Hogwarts, I am empowered by memories of the years I've spent here. In leaving out milk the night before a game, I am manifesting abundance while meditating on the play to come. When spitting before kickoff, I eject all fear of potential pain. Luck is a paradox. It cannot be harnessed like a capricious animal, but we can nevertheless rely on the graceful art of believing it’s on our side.


All the Craze for WORLD MONKEY DAY
by Ruth Fairchild

If you’ve ever had the random wonder of whether there was ever a day to celebrate primates, I will start by saying, yes, such a day exists! Monkey Day is an annual celebration on the 14th of December that honours monkeys and other non-human primates, such as apes, lemurs, and tarsiers.

Monkey Day? It may sound ridiculous to have a day like this, and that’s true. The story of its origin was somewhat humorous: in 2000, Casey Sorrow, an art student at Michigan State University (MSU), wrote “Monkey Day” on a friend’s calendar. What had started as a lighthearted university prank evolved into a holiday celebrated with other MSU art students, and then globally through Sorrow and Eric Millikin’s Monkey Day artworks and alternative comics published and exhibited to the online world.

The day is now dedicated to raising awareness about primate species, their importance in ecosystems, and the threats they face, such as habitat loss and illegal wildlife trade. Of course, it’s also a fun occasion to appreciate monkeys’ intelligence, curiosity, and playfulness. While it may have come about as a joke, the day matters, as it encourages people to support wildlife conservation, ethical research, and habitat protection. There are more than 260 species of monkeys in the world, found mostly in tropical regions of Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Many of these species are endangered or threatened, due to events such as deforestation, illegal pet trades, hunting, and climate change. Taking the time to educate yourself about the primates of our world truly helps with raising awareness and inspiring action to protect these incredible animals for generations to come.

Celebrating is pretty simple—originally, Monkey Day was celebrated by creating monkey artworks, wearing monkey costumes, and even imitating monkey behaviour! Muggle American daily newspaper The Washington Post described the event as a day to “act like a monkey”. And, besides, who’s stopping you? If you’re ever in countries such as the United States, Canada, Colombia, Thailand, Italy, India, Pakistan, Turkey, or Estonia, you could even try visiting Muggle zoos and sanctuaries, as they quite often host special monkey exhibits and enrichment sessions where they talk about primate conservation. Muggle films and music about monkeys or nonhuman primates are also popular at Monkey Day events. Movies such as King Kong, Planet of the Apes and songs such as Monkey Man and [/i]The Monkey Time[/i] are often a part of the festivities. If you ever manage to get your hands on them, spend your winter morning on the 14th of December curled up in front of the television watching them. For those staying at Hogwarts who want to listen to some of the songs on the gramophone, you might want to check out the Muggle section of the school library... with some searching, you might be able to uncover a few records stuffed between books by yours truly. Enjoy!

And for those who would rather not go through all the shenanigans involving monkey callings, dress up as them, or are unfortunate enough not to have access to Muggle items, why not spread the holiday cheer by learning some facts about monkeys?

Fact Number One: Monkeys are divided into two main groups—Old World Monkeys (Africa and Asia), like baboons and macaques, and New World Monkeys (Central and South America), like capuchins and howler monkeys.

Fact Number Two: If you have watched the Muggle film “Sing 2”, the monkey dance instructor, Klaus Kickenklober, is a proboscis monkey. They are famous for their large noses. Meanwhile, a tamarin monkey has a moustache that makes it look like an old man.

Fact Number Three: Signs of advanced cognition are seen through how some monkeys use tools, communicate with gestures and facial expressions, and even recognise themselves in mirrors. There was even a gorilla named Koko who knew 1,000 signs from a modified form of American Sign Language (ASL), having been taught by Dr Francine Patterson starting in 1971. In 2015, three years before her death, she appeared as a PSA for the COP21 Climate Conference in Paris with footage of her signing the following: “I am Gorilla. I am flowers, animals. I am nature. Man Koko love. Earth Koko love. But Man stupid. Stupid! Koko sorry. Koko cry. Time hurry! Fix Earth! Help Earth! Hurry! Protect Earth. Nature see you. Thank you.”


Cheesy Subsection of Muggle Cinema: The Hallmark Holiday Movie
by Tristan Theramin

There are few films in the Muggle world that are liked despite their terrible writing, trope-filled interactions, and intensely saccharine endings. Yet the Hallmark holiday movie is liked exactly because of this extremely cheesy style. Today I would like to share with you a few aspects of the Hallmark holiday movie that are annoying yet endearing at the same time.

Tropes
The holiday movies often have common themes of friends becoming lovers, estranged families coming together, or a rich guy giving away all his money to a poor guy that happens to be his long lost brother. The tropes are predictable, but are something one can get desperately addicted to. In other movies, most film directors often attempt to subvert tropes and expectations. In Hallmark movies, however, the expectations are set and fulfilled. This simple set-up and fulfillment is somehow still pleasing in a child-like and wondrous way.

In Mistletoe Murders, Emily Lane is an owner of a Christmas shop, and she uses her secret skills to solve a murder when a poisoned cookie is used in a crime.

In A Princess for Christmas, a young woman goes to a castle in Europe with her niece and nephew for Christmas, and she falls in love with a handsome prince.

In The Holiday Sitter, Sam finds himself falling in love with his handsome neighbour when the latter asks for his help while Sam babysits his niece and nephew.

As can be seen, Hallmark holiday movies take any simple trope one can think of and write so many stories based on it. It can get repetitive, but they do indeed give an answer to the yearnings of humanity.

Child-Friendly
The holiday movies are child-friendly and match the atmosphere of Christmas and the general holidays. The stories are innocent and fun, with none of the inappropriate scenes that one can catch on nighttime Muggle entertainment. Just like how the holidays are a time for family, Hallmark movies are always available for everyone to watch together, sometimes with good lessons to learn.

A Dog Named Christmas is about a young boy who helps foster shelter dogs with his community during the holiday season, teaching compassion and selflessness.

The Russell Girl is about a young woman who returns to her hometown and learns to forgive those who have hurt her in the past.

The Christmas Choir involves an accountant who starts a choir in a local homeless shelter, thus finding purpose for his life and understanding the power of music in connecting people together.

All of these movies share good lessons for kids to learn about finding purpose, and are an enjoyable story for adults to listen to as well.

Quantity
There are, to say the least, thousands of Hallmark movies, often constantly played in a row during the Christmas season. Without a doubt, one could decide to watch four or five movies a day together as a family for three weeks in a row and still not run out. There are thousands and thousands of different options to choose from and new ones are released every year!

It reminds me quite a bit of our enjoyment of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, though much more innocent. Everyone knows what a Hallmark movie is when you ask them about it. Everyone has watched the film to fill up time when bored or when in want of a cheer-up. There is something pleasing in turning off the brain and enjoying something that everyone knows the concept of.

Perhaps it could even be compared to Quidditch, a sport that not everyone is fond of, but everyone knows about. Hallmark movies are quite the phenomenon and if anyone mentions one, everyone will know what a cheesy, trope-filled beauty it is.

There is something quite beautiful about it all, truly. Much of the news that everyone knows about in the Muggle world is tragic and deafeningly depressing. Hallmark movies are the one thing that everyone knows about that is truly innocent and fun.

Of course, there are films with better writing. Of course, there are films with better actors. There are films with better symbolism and better cinematography. However, Hallmark movies still stay a large part of people’s holiday plans and traditions. I posit that no matter the quality of film, if it brings the family together, it’s better than any other movie, innit?


A Student Who Delivers
by Alphonse Toussaint

Dear Hogwarts,

It appears that I owe my esteemed and clearly perceptive Headliner colleague and Gryffindor Quidditch teammate an apology. You see, during my Headliner interview with Miss Oonagh Brown last October, she had the audacity to wrap up her article by commenting on my potential. Specifically speaking, Oonagh suggested I was a “troublemaker in the making”, but had yet to prove it. The final remark of “unless he is all bark and no bite” was truly cruel on my interviewer's part. Yet it opened my eyes like a real call to action, if you will.

So, here goes this: my apologies, Oogie. I wasn't familiar with your game. If this was your intention to get a rise out of me, it worked.

I'm not one to allow an insult like yours to go unanswered, Oogie. Consider this the answer you and the students of Hogwarts have all been waiting so desperately for. To respond with a simple and messy explosion is better left for the amateurs; no, the challenge you presented demanded more strategic planning and finesse. And since I believe in taking accountability for one's own actions (with the added theatrical flair—blame Piérre Marchonné), I’m using the Headliner to confess my recent and highly successful exploits.

For starters, some of you nerds who enjoy opening up books for pleasure will have the once-in-a-lifetime experience of laying eyes on the original art of Alphonse Toussaint. I even signed it just so you can have the opportunity to sell it once I'm rich and famous. You're welcome.

Also, the abrupt disappearance of History of Magic's protective gargoyle, Asdrúbal, was my doing.

For those unfamiliar, Asdrúbal was the guardian gargoyle perched outside of the History of Magic classroom. I was told that a beautiful woman, former Professor Melisande Lennox, collected this gargoyle to guard her classroom after receiving approval from the Ministry of Magic, but it ultimately fell into now-former Professor Octavius Baird's hands upon Mrs Lennox's decision to leave.

Professor Octavius Baird was undeserving of such a handsome creature, so I assembled a team to help me steal rehome the beloved gargoyle. In the exhaustive and brutal process, some bones were broken and lives were lost, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Rest assured, Asdrúbal now serves a better purpose and even knows a few neat tricks. Ask him to tell you a joke or toss him a football—Asdrúbal doesn't disappoint!

With Octavius gone and the arrival of the current History of Magic Professor, Elmo Break, I believe I did everyone a courtesy in stealing rehoming Asdrúbal. If you wish to visit the handsome gargoyle, stop by my mum's office and bring me three galleons.

Oonagh, if you think that's all I've got, you're sorely mistaken. There are plots and ploys coming up soon that I cannot yet reveal. Since I’m feeling generous, I'll give you a hint: now you see more, now you don't.

Your move, Oogie.

Sincerely yours,
Alphonse Toussaint, a student who delivers


Spilling Hogwarts’s Secrets: Vol. 3
by Lady Audentia

Hello again, my lovely seekers of truth!

I come again with yet another rush of intriguing information about Hogwarts’s most horrific. Some of this is not for the light of heart, so take care as you read.

I suppose we ought to begin with a professor, and I have the most pulchritudinous piece of speculation regarding ex-Professor Elmo Break! It’s no secret that he’s a devilish drunkard, or even that he has a penchant for Unforgivable Curses, or even that he’s been terrorising the female professors… what a scoundrel! But, of course, there’s more to the story than just that. It has been mentioned that Break often sleeps in his office underneath giant blanket forts, whispering platitudes to himself in order to fall asleep. Talk about mortifying! If I were him, I would be loath to show my face in the halls…

Which, of course, brings me to someone who hasn’t been seen in the halls in quite some time. “Althea Valeden” (if it’s really her) has since returned from a strange hiatus, one that leads individuals to wonder whether she has been replaced by a siren. You might ask, “What motive do you have to suggest a siren!?” to which I will reply… the evidence. Like a siren, she has been flirting every which way, and she speaks Mermish. Coincidence? I think not. Furthermore, sources say her loved ones are dropping like flies. Horrible? Sure. Juicy? Absolutely.

If you’re a male student, all I can say is beware. Don’t let this siren lead you to your death!

The next student we shall shine a light on is one Nova Astron, a young Hufflepuff. I would call her a good student, but that’s just not true anymore, is it? She’s had a simply disastrous run-in with failing marks after failing marks. The most unfortunate part is that she appears to be trying. I suppose one might say the mighty have fallen.

Speaking of the mighty that have fallen, I must mention one Livia Machavariani. It’s difficult to say you haven’t heard of this first year, not when she captained the Slytherin Quidditch team and was our very own Headliner’s Secretary. Suffice to say, she is Secretary no longer, and under mysterious circumstances, as well. I performed more research, and I happened to learn that Miss Machavariani might have been a prefect for just a few days! That ought to be the shortest tenure yet. I couldn’t ascertain what, exactly, made Miss Machavariani lose all of her positions so quickly, given that she seems rather responsible, but perhaps something dark is lurking underneath the surface, something only Hogwarts’s staff have been able to realise.

I must, of course, mention Percival Rocier, too. He seems to be growing into an example of a boy who just can’t do anything right. Harsh? I think not. He is a student without a bookbag or competent casting, so he is always carrying around Brobdingnagian bundles of books. My arms ache just thinking of it! Furthermore, although this is a bit belated, I was made aware that, at the Fall Ball, he attempted to dance with Cecilia Merrick and simply stumbled over her toes the entire night. I would most certainly denominate that as “failure”. If you’ve befriended him, do be aware that your social standing might plummet.

Perhaps you think I am too harsh. I must opine that candour is my most unrivalled virtue.

XOXO,
Lady Audentia


Off to Tenūsa or Koldovstoretz? Here’s How to be Best Prepared!
by Matthew Campbell and Aly Salinger

Dear readers, here at the Headliner, we have been lucky enough to gain an exclusive glimpse into the future inspired by some admired Seers. Headmasters Aulis Vorozheykin and Lawrence Maynard, respectively of Koldovstoretz and Tenūsa, are leading a new charge on international cooperation by hosting students from across the globe at their schools this winter. It’s sure to be a year to remember, and we’ve secured all the tips and tricks to get you prepared.

Bringing in the new year, Tenusa will be hosting an open day, guiding the school into a new era of transparency. One of the most mysterious and elusive magical academies is opening its shores and inviting us all to experience if the grass really is greener on the other side. After writing to Grand Seer Lawrence Maynard, we have acquired the exclusive scoop on just what he’s got planned.

Then, in February, it’s off to snowy Siberia for the International Magical Olympic Games, otherwise known as IMOG. Koldovstoretz will be hosting the event—an excellent location, given the amount of snow the Russian school must get—and so we also reached out to its director, Aulis Vorozheykin, for more information about the history of the Games and to find out what to bring when we descend upon his conservatory.

Below are some of the questions we asked to the headmasters, as well as their answers, copied exactly from their owls back to us:

“What fun activities can students look forward to when they visit your school?”

Lawrence Maynard: We hope to offer our guests a glance into the bright array of culture we have here at Tenūsa, and for those interested in water sports you're in for quite the treat.

Aulis Vorozheykin: Many fun activities here! Are banyas (saunas) for to relax, big feast for opening with ice skate on Lake Bear, and of course the sports with medal ceremony at end.

“Has your event ever happened before? What is the history of your event?”

Lawrence Maynard: This is a chance to be part of living history, as never before has the Isle of Divination offered the chance for outsiders to visit. I hope that it is the start of a new age for Tenūsa and for international cooperation.

Aulis Vorozheykin: These Games were conducted in past, but not held for many years. At Koldovstoretz, we revive tradition and make healthy the competitive atmosphere as the Muggles with same international activities in their world.

“How is your school different from Hogwarts? Should students prepare for anything in particular?”

Lawrence Maynard: Don’t be fooled by the time of year; the Isle remains warm all year round. Also, a quick tip for our hayfever sufferers: bring some antihistamines.

Aulis Vorozheykin: Is cold here. Our yurts have heat but is very cold out of yurts. Students should prepare for cold. Also, for sport! Practice ice skate, bobsled, curl, and hockey.

“What do you recommend packing for the trip?”

Lawrence Maynard: Bring a dish; we want to experience your own culture as much as you explore ours. Other than that, prep for the beach and to sleep under the stars!

Aulis Vorozheykin: Again, is very cold. Pack clothings that is warm. Also, bathing suit. Banyas are warm and comfortable, and must have clothes for sport of course!

So get your packing spell ready and start preparing for some once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to visit rarely seen international schools. Rest assured that we will be following this story the whole way through and hope to see all of you there! Plus, at the very least, these events surely cannot have a worse track record than our own balls here at Hogwarts…


Muggles and Their Obsession with Christmas “Magic”
by Tristan Theramin

The twinkling decorations made with electric lights connected by wires upon a tree of pine is an iconic image in the eyes of Muggles. There is nothing more fascinating than the Muggle holiday season of Christmas. Though the word Christmas is derived from the mass used to celebrate Christ’s birth on this special day, the 25th of December, the celebration no longer captures the magic of their religion’s belief of a miraculous birth, but rather the spirit of joy, family, friends, and generosity.

Christmas magic, according to Muggles, is not actual magic, of course, but rather the atmosphere of childhood that seems to return for some people when they celebrate the Christmas season. It is the fantastical ability to be giddy again and to be as whimsical as you want to be, even as an adult.

Many people are encouraged to be altruistic and volunteer. Giving and serving are often the themes of this season. The magic of Christmas, for Muggles, is a reminder to serve others! Though many people are altruistic throughout the year, this time of year seems to always remind people that there are many people in need around the world.

The magic of Christmas also involves spending time with family. Many Muggles travel back to their parents along with their own families or to their partner’s parents. They spend time together and look for love and peace.

Many Muggle films that are published during this season are hopeful and romantic. They teach a good family moral or fight for the outcast. This season’s magic is humanity attempting to be more humane and loyal in a way that lasts beyond the season. Many of the movies purposefully end happily and with plans for the future. Imagination runs wild and children are encouraged to write letters to fictional characters such as Santa Claus – or the Three Wise Kings in other countries.

If any of you have Muggle-born friends, you may have heard of the tradition of Santa Claus. Many believe that the story of Santa Claus originates from a real man named Saint Nicholas. Saint Nicholas was a Catholic saint known for his kindness, generosity, and piety. In fact, there’s a legend that he gave away gold anonymously to a father of three children who were running out of food. He also gave toys away to children in his town, and, eventually, legends of reindeers and magic coalesced into the idea of Saint Nicholas. These legends, in combination with an advertisement from a famous Muggle drink company, Coca-Cola, have created the common idea in the minds of Muggles of an older man with a big white beard, a red fluffy coat, and a sleigh of reindeers who fly to give toys to children all around the world.

Another great tradition Muggles have is Christmas Carolling. Groups of people learn songs to sing for neighbours! They often have great jazz harmonies and multiple layers of musical melodies. Some do get annoyed at random strangers coming to your house to sing songs, but I definitely support the festivities. There’s such beauty in teamwork and art, after all.


Magical & Muggle Meals: Enchanted Gingerbread
by Aly Salinger

The baking and decorating of gingerbread people and houses is a beloved Muggle tradition for the winter holiday. After all, there is nothing quite like piping icing-cicles onto a roof’s edge, giving your gingerbread man a wonderfully smart set of candy buttons, or dreaming up the story behind your gingerbread village (at least, this is what I have heard from my Muggle-born mates).

However, what if we told you that you could enchant your gingerbread to actually act out the very story you’ve dreamt up right in front of you? That’s right – here in the Wizarding World, the possibilities are endless!


Ingredients:

• 3 ½ cups Wizarding Wheat Self-Charmed flour (*all-purpose flour)
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 tablespoon ground ginger
• ½ teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• ½ teaspoon ground allspice
• 10 tablespoons dragon milk butter (*cow butter)
• ¾ cup brown sugar**
• ⅔ cup dark treacle
• 1 chicken egg***
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Charmed Sentience-brand royal icing (*any royal icing)

*Muggle alternative.
**Preferably Elfin Sugar Co. brand.
***Utilising an egg from a magical creature will imbue the gingerbread people with the personalities of the magical creatures. This is HIGHLY discouraged.

Directions:

1. Whisk together the flour, baking soda, and spices in a large cauldron, then set aside.
2. Using your wand (*handheld or stand mixer), beat butter in a cauldron for 1 minute at medium speed until creamy and smooth. Scrape the sides of the cauldron as needed.
3. Add treacle and sugar, then beat again at medium speed until once again creamy and smooth. Scrape sides as needed.
4. Add vanilla and egg, then beat again at high speed for 2 minutes. Scrape sides as needed.
5. Slowly add flour mixture to the cauldron and beat at low speed until the entire mixture is sticky and thick, but staying together.
6. Scrape dough out of the cauldron, divide in half, and wrap each tightly in plastic wrap. Pat into a round, flat shape, then chill in a cool place (*refrigerator) for a minimum of 3 hours, up to 3 days.
7. When ready to bake, remove dough from plastic wrap and roll out on a floured surface until about ¼-inch thick. House-elves are particularly skilled at this, so don’t be afraid to ask them for help. If making the magical version, the dough may wiggle about a little bit; a solid thwack with the rolling pin should remind it to stay still for now.
8. Preheat the oven to 177°C (350°F), then cut dough into desired shapes; people are recommended. Place separated on a flat biscuit tray that has been covered in parchment paper (the baking kind, not the schoolwork kind).
9. Bake biscuits for 8-11 minutes, rotating halfway through. Smaller biscuits take less time, larger ones take more. Keep an eye on them! When removed from the oven, allow to cool on a tray for 5 minutes before transferring to a cooling rack to cool completely.
10. When biscuits are cool, decorate with Charmed Sentience icing to your preference. It is recommended to whisper ideas about the desired personality to your biscuits as you ice them. Careful – once you have finished icing a biscuit, it will become fully sentient! It is recommended to start up a small pen to hold them in so that you do not lose them in your kitchen (though, beware, they can climb).
11. Murder your enchanted gingerbread people by eating them. Or don’t. It’s all up to you now.

BETWEEN THE LINES: When the Castle Sleeps
by Ruth Fairchild

Dim.
As puffs and train tracks mark all absence
but the presence of the sleeping castle on the hill.

Quiet.

Where dust motes once danced, frost crisp in the air
of the corridors
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀now
Still.
‘Cept the flickering candlelights that
bling bling
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with fairy lights for Christmas.

To whomever is reading this over what I hope is a hot cuppa chocolate in this freezing December winter, good morning, afternoon, or evening! As this would be the first published article of “Between the Lines”, I’m hoping to lend a proper introduction to the column.

Between the Lines is an experiment of sorts—a column where I turn small, overlooked things into poetry. Moments that sit quietly in the corners of our days. Things we miss as we rush between breakfast and class, amidst the chatter during crowded events, or when the castle hums so loudly, it’s impossible to notice the way it breathes. Accompanying each piece would be a short poem that I not only present, but also follow with what it means to me.

This first piece, When the Castle Sleeps, is about stillness—the kind that December brings when everything slows down just enough for those minuscule, minute details to surface. If you, dear reader, have ever stayed at Hogwarts rather than taking the express home, you’ve probably noticed it: the halls quieter, the mumbles thinner, the fires burning lower. As the castle itself takes a deep breath to welcome students again the following year, everything seems to pass by on its own leisurely time. Even more so, the warmth of Christmas embracing the silence is truly surreal.

You've maybe noticed the structural play of this poem. Having “Dim”, “Quiet”, and “Still” centre-aligned helps control the pressure, a visual rhythm that has this subtle descent into silence. I love contrast, which I've included with the final stanza’s “bling bling”—a disruption of this stillness to make way for Christmas.

One of the poetic rules that I religiously follow is the inclusion of imagery that gives the slightest story. “Puffs and train tracks mark all absence” emphasises the introduction, the departure of the students. This leads to “the sleeping castle on the hill”, the personification giving the castle a dormant sense of life.

When I first wrote this poem, I was sitting near the Great Lake, and the water had started freezing near the edges, a layer of frost glazing the grass. The chill had begun to settle in, and as I began to make my way back to the common room, I realised how far I was from the bustle, and how vivid the glow of the castle lights was soon to be replaced by “frost crisp in the air”.

There’s something magical yet lonely about the stillness. The quiet reminds you of the moments you rushed through and all the laughter you meant to join. The things you meant to say but just… didn’t. I think that’s what December does—it makes you remember. The quietness sparks reflection that makes you pause and think about how much has changed.

Sometimes, it feels Hogwarts itself harbors memories between its stones. When the castle sleeps, memories settle like snow. Soft and undisturbed, but always there. So, if you ever find yourself walking through the corridors, try listening to the silence beneath the noise. There’s a strange comfort knowing that when everything seems frozen, life is still quietly breathing.

That’s what Between the Lines is about. The life beneath the surface. The meanings we don’t say out loud yet feel.

Until next time,
Ruth

Resolute or Recreant? How Likely is Hogwarts to Keep Their New Year’s Resolutions?
by Aly Salinger

Eat healthier, get in shape, find love or maybe love oneself more—these are all lovely examples of the latest Muggle craze sweeping the wizarding world, otherwise known as a New Year’s resolution. For those of you who might be taking shelter under your local boulder, a New Year’s resolution is essentially a promise you make to yourself upon the switch to the new year—something you want to accomplish before the next thirty-first of December.

But just how realistic are the New Year’s resolutions we set for ourselves? Sure, we might decide on the first of January that we want something to happen by the end of the year, but that doesn’t mean it necessarily will. We here at the Headliner have collected several resolutions made by the student body (and some of the professors) of Hogwarts, so let’s examine them and rate their plausibility from least to most likely to actually happen.

Jrue Peterson, Hufflepuff first year: “If I’m being honest, finding myself a homeboy… suitor… or boyfriend… but who’s really asking?”
Plausibility: 1/10
First of all, me—I am asking—that’s the point of a Headliner interview! But seriously, let’s look at this straight on. You are twelve, my young friend. Stay away from the romance for now and focus on passing Transfiguration. You’ll have plenty of time for finding a “homeboy”, whatever that means, when you’re older!

Meiyu Xiang, Gryffindor second year: “To finally train a useless boy to be my guard dog.”
Plausibility: 2/10
First of all, I’m pretty sure that’s called indentured servitude. Second of all, aren’t you a prefect? Maybe someone should look into speaking with your supervisor…

Vladislav Gunther, Gryffindor fourth year: “I plan on seeing my dad again by the end of the year, if I can.”
Plausibility: 5/10
I gave this resolution a middle-ground rating because, honestly, I don’t know you or your father. For most people, this would be a fairly easy resolution, I think—but given that you’ve made it your yearly goal just to see your dad, I’m not sure of how plausible it’ll be. Still, I wish you luck on this—it’s never fun not to see family for long—and maybe he can meet you in Diagon Alley come summer, at least. Always a great spot for a family reunion!

Kaitlyn Conner, Slytherin third year: “Develop some type of sustained self-care ritual.”
Plausibility: 6/10
It’s not completely impossible and is a great resolution! We could all use a bit more self-care in our lives these days. However, a sustained daily ritual sounds mentally and physically exhausting, and I personally would hate to have a resolution that I’d feel bad about myself for missing even one day out of the year. If you plan on doing self-care daily, you’re going to need a lot of motivation to not burn out.

Desislava Nenovsky, Professor of Divination: “To publish my manuscript.”
Plausibility: 7/10
I hate to rank you this low, Professor, but through my research of Muggle resolutions, it seems that a big project like this tends to fail in the end. Publication sounds like quite the difficult process! Still, I wish you luck—and the tea leaves predict a 70% probability of success, if I’ve read them right. (Please don’t fail me on next week’s essay.)

Katherine Townsend, Professor of Charms: “To make friends with every professor, starting with Desislava!”
Plausibility: 8/10
Most of the professors should be pretty easy to get along with and they seem friendly enough to me, especially Professor Nenovsky (though I’m biased as a Divination fan)! However, good luck befriending Professor Sauber and Headmaster Lear. You’ve surely your work cut out for you there.

Aamon Athanatos, Slytherin second year: “To not get drunk off the butterbeer next time we have a guys’ night.”
Plausibility: 9/10
It’s very sweet that you and your mates have guys’ nights, but to be realistic, it is incredibly difficult to get drunk off of butterbeer even when you are twelve or thirteen. How much butterbeer have you been drinking?! Anyway, I think you’re pretty safe on this front.

Zephyr Deakin, Hufflepuff first year: “To eat breakfast before flying practice instead of pretending nerves count as a meal.”
Plausibility: 10/10
This could absolutely occur! It’s realistic, funny, not too difficult, and slightly self-deprecating—which it seems most of the best resolutions are. Perhaps the house-elves could even cook up something special for young Mr Deakin before his practices to help him calm his nerves and get some food in him. Zephyr, if you’re reading this, take it from an elder: you do not want to pass out during practice, so get going on this resolution! We’re all behind you.

And good luck to any and all who have New Year’s resolutions this year! (Mine is to graduate. Cross your fingers for me.)


Hogwarts Electives | Opinion Piece
by Archer Duncan

Being well into my third year, I have now been taking Hogwarts electives for a few months. It has come to my realisation that younger students may require some guidance, so below I provide an authentic review of all five classes.

Care of Magical Creatures, although not in my field of expertise, stands out as a subject that is never tedious. Lessons commonly include practicals, which are interactions with the animals we happen to be studying. With ample amounts of field work, there is more to the class than poring over textbooks. CoMC is a perfect starting point for those interested in natural philosophy or anyone with a curiosity for the many creatures that live in harmony in our world.

Next, Divination. While I will spare you the details of how I came to detest the subject, allow me to explain some of the reasoning that I believe validates my position. As nothing more than a matter of frivolity, I had a distaste for the subject even before my negative encounters with the “art” of soothsaying. From reading tea leaves to palmistry, the extent of what Professor Nenovsky teaches is a fraud attempting to decipher existence, and I stand by that.

It is not that I do not believe a subject like Divination has a certain amount of truth to it, but that it is an entirely incorrect approach to life. From hard lessons learnt myself, I have realised that divining the future only leads to pain and harm. Prophecies, while revealing knowledge, give too much information and can negatively impact our perceptions of a situation, resulting in perilous outcomes. There is no way, in my years of existence, would I ever urge anyone to take this subject—it is an undoubtedly dangerous one.

On to the Study of Ancient Runes. A completely underrated subject, Runes take the power of language to another plane entirely. I have always been fond of linguistics, yet Runes is not simply a study of a dead language. A perfect display of the prowess of magic, I have always found it awe-inspiring that an act as simple as writing with a few surreal lines could have greater power than a spell. Runes is best suited for those with an interest in language acquisition, and especially those who want to take their studies one step further.

Muggle Studies is a subject of which I am admittedly unfamiliar. I had chosen not to take the lesson for the reason that there is little use for the subject in practicality. While it is a perfect opportunity to change perspectives and stand in others’ shoes, there is little chance for the use of the subject outside this purely idealistic philosophy. It is not that I think of myself too highly to dabble in the subject, but the realisation that it is not worth another workload of assignments and examinations.

Flying: having officially become an elective subject in the second year, Flying is no longer a mandatory class, yet I found myself inexplicably drawn to it. I had expected that come September of 2024, I would drop it without a second’s hesitation, yet there is something about the wind tousling my hair or the horizon so close to my outstretched hand. There is something about the adrenaline that courses through my body every time we soar into the skies, and there is something about the thrill of a nose-dive that nothing else could replace.

Often, we are bound by mental barriers that exist only in belief; the same way I distrusted a wobbly stick under me or the same way I distrusted myself and my own skills. Possibilities are greater than we could imagine; we all have greater potential to reach. Whether it is an acquired taste or an instant love, I would recommend keeping this subject on your timetable, even if, or perhaps especially if, it is out of your comfort zone.

I hope you have taken away some valuable insight from my opinions, and while I urge you not to follow them blindly, experience has served me well.


Owl Post Overload
by Simon Kincaid

Ah, Valentine’s Day—where love is in the air. As we spread the love, let’s not forget that this holiday is the hardest day of the year to be an owl. Behind every fluttering envelope and swooping gift lies a very tired, very heroic owl, tirelessly working to do the impossible. These brave birds face many challenges on this day of love.

First, in communities throughout the world—and not unique to the wizarding world—Valentine’s Day brings a surge in post volume. The Hogwarts Owlery becomes crowded with greeting cards, handwritten letters, and a growing mountain of parcels. These continue to pile up as students and staff keep thinking of one more letter to send. These simple gestures of love quickly become a monumental challenge for the postal system.

The owls are already exhausted! Valentine’s Day arrives on the heels of the winter holidays, when the owls are already worn out from delivering all those gifts and cards to wish warm winter wishes. Then, there is the rush of returns of unwanted gifts from those holidays. Upon returning to school, students contribute to the owl post overload by sending forgotten books, misplaced scarves, and other last-minute items back to Hogwarts.

To add to the surge in volume, there is the pressure of deadlines. With Valentine’s Day being a fixed date, people post things late but still expect their items to arrive exactly on 14th February. This sudden surge can quickly create a backlog, forcing owls and postal workers to rush deliveries, work extra hours, and make multiple trips to keep up. The pressure to meet such a strict deadline increases the risk of misread addresses, mixed-up parcels, or damaged goods.

Furthermore, Valentine’s deliveries are often complex and demanding. Not every delivery is a small envelope with a tiny handwritten note; post in the wizarding world is rarely simple. Owls are often tasked with missions to deliver lumpy, glittering cards, heart-shaped boxes that can become quite heavy, chocolates that risk melting mid-flight, fragile glass trinkets, and bouquets of flowers that must be delivered quickly to avoid wilting. All of this is if the owl is lucky and their delivery isn’t a heavy, cursed object that might begin to move and startle the messenger.

Unfortunately for the owls, Valentine’s post is rarely just romantic; it is often magical as well. Love potions, enchanted scents, charm-laced gifts, and cursed items can interfere with an owl’s homing abilities and distort their sense of direction. When a magical disturbance occurs, owls may become confused mid-flight, veer off course, fly in circles, or collide with one another in the crowded skies.

Postal owls face many cognitive challenges under normal circumstances, but the sheer amount of post adds to this task as Valentine’s Day amplifies the strain. When making a delivery, owls do not simply fly to a fixed address but magically locate recipients. This is done even when the person is moving or the location is vague, with the owl constantly adjusting where they will drop off their shipment. These additional deliveries create significant stress and cognitive overload.

Let us not forget the month in which Valentine’s Day occurs. The winter skies of February are rarely forgiving; across many regions, snowstorms, freezing rain, and icy winds can make flying difficult. Owls are not only battling these elements but doing so with shorter days, leaving them less time for safe travel. The seasonal weather can become a serious challenge for our feathered friends and test both their skill and patience.

Perhaps one of the most overlooked and saddest challenges that these flying delivery agents face is the backlash they might receive. Owls can become unintended victims of Valentine’s Day drama. Some deliveries could provoke anger or disappointment, and an unwanted message could cause recipients to shoo, scold, or yell at these winged postmasters. Sometimes, these parcels and messages are sent back immediately, forcing the owls to repeat their journey. It can turn into a very stressful and exhausting ordeal.

So this Valentine’s Day, let us not only celebrate love but also the owls of the post. For them, it is a day of endurance, courage, and perseverance. Each flight is more than a delivery; it is an act of heroism that we all should appreciate. These feathered messengers deserve our love and our admiration.


BETWEEN THE LINES: Mud in the Hem
by Ruth Fairchild

31st, 1st, 2nd.
31st, 1st, 2nd.

The numbers repeat, and the months cease to change.

But the person within refrains from staying the same
days go by in forms of Monday, Tuesday,
Wednesday, the ground was once covered in snow
once pale, now scuffed
shoes and muddy cloaks traipse the castle walls once again.

Change is never clean. Growth stains you in manners that even the most remarkable, magical bleach would fail to rub off the mark it has left upon a person. Like a scar, it forever remains, a wound that scabs over in time, etched into the skin. Sometimes I wonder to myself—why is growth considered seamless or an unconscious progress within life, when in reality it knocks on one’s door carrying baggage of discomfort and emotional residue?

February has a peculiar way of exposing this truth. It stands awkwardly between the beginning and an end, wedged between the quiet reflections of December and the anticipation that March brings. Winter has yet to let go fully, and spring has yet to arrive. Everything around you is damp, stained, and half-formed, much like the thoughts we attempt to articulate within this season.

The second piece of this series, Mud in the Hem, plays with repetition. The numbers, ‘31st, 1st, 2nd’, mirror the constant ticking of the calendar, the steady but continuous marching of time. Even though the days are recycled, the numbers between months restart over and over—even though there is little change within these systems, something within us shifts beneath the routine. The numbers stay the same. We do not.

The use of enjambment within this poem also serves to convey to the reader that time is never-ending. ‘Days go by in forms of Monday, Tuesday,/ Wednesday’ can also be read as ‘Wednesday, the ground was once covered in snow.’ Similarly, the line ‘snow/ once pale, now scuffed’ could end there, or continue as ‘scuffed/ shoes and muddy cloaks…’.

What is a piece of poetry made by yours truly if you cannot proclaim, ‘Once again, imagery!’ The cusp of literary and literacy, where words transform into scenery, flying across the page, inking the mind with a picture of the school grounds ‘once covered in snow/once page, now scuffed’ and ‘scuffed/shoes and muddy cloaks traips[ing] the castle walls once again.’ At the same time, it acts as a form of juxtaposition to When the Castle Sleeps (see Issue #46 of the Hogwarts Headliner), where the cleanliness of winter (represented within the lines ‘where dance motes once danced, frost crisp in the air’) is disturbed by the presence of students who have returned to the school that was once in deep slumber. You may have noticed the mundanity in the imagery used; for instance, the use of mud. There’s nothing magical about mud. It clings and stains. It announces that you have been somewhere, that you have moved rather than stood still, just as growth leaves evidence. We like to imagine improvement as something invincible and preferably at the start of the new year. February reminds us otherwise.

There is an odd pressure that comes with resolutions—the idea of a ‘new year, new you’. A long-standing human impulse that has been around since ancient times, dating back to the Babylonians. But like any impulse, those expectations and the burst of motivation that the new year provides begin to fray. There is so much to remember, so much to apply, and so much to reflect on. You are no longer exactly as you were in September, nor in December. Then again, you are not entirely sure who you are becoming either. It is a tandem of contradictions: feeling too old for some things, feeling too young for others. December may have offered stillness that made certain things easier to ignore or to reflect slowly. But now the castle has awakened again, and with the noise comes the resurfacing of thoughts and emotions that lie exposed, for February does not allow for hiding. It insists on movement, even if the moving itself is clumsy.

I often think about how mud is often treated undesirably, as if it were something meant to be cleaned away as quickly as possible. How it leaves stains. But what if the stains are not meant to come out? What if growth is not something to fix, but something to carry, like a story etched into the fabric of who you are? The muddy hem of a cloak tells you that someone has walked through winter and kept on going. It tells you that they didn’t wait for perfect conditions and kept traipsing on.

Perhaps that is enough.

Until next time,
Ruth.


Spilling Hogwarts’s Secrets: Vol. 4
by Lady Audentia

Greetings, my fellow purveyors of verity! In this month’s tantalisingly true tellings, I intend to bring you nothing but the finest stories circulating about our school’s very own corridors.

My sources have informed me of the atrocious acts of first-year Crystal Theodora. Although a student with decent (hardly perfect) marks, she has been purposefully sabotaging the work of other students to make herself look better. Talk about a teacher’s pet!

For something of a more personal nature, though… I have been known to perform my own investigative research from time to time, finding primary sources to support hypotheses, and I have discovered that the Poisonwood family’s daughter is in her first year! Just jubilant, no? Except… well, if you have ever been wronged by the horrific concoctions her parents, who fancy themselves “potioneers”, have crafted, just know that, sometimes, it is perfectly permissible to levy the consequence for the parents’ crime on the child. Send young Concetta my greetings, won’t you, dear readers?

This would hardly be one of my articles without exposing someone’s utter backwardness. I believe high society has a right to learn of the offensive individuals who dare to permeate our world, after all. One Keegan Cadwalader—first year, Hufflepuff—has dared to mar the corridors with his rakish presence! He is quite similar to Silas Norwood in this, and I remain unsure if that statement is more insulting to Mr Cadwalader or Mr Norwood. Both young men are unruly savages. What Mr Cadwalader lacks in filth, he does make up for by dumping absolute tripe wherever he may. He calls it “guitar”, but, dear me, it is almost as if it was put together by a filthy Muggle—the horror!

I discuss the tribulations of first years quite often. They’re so young, after all, and so prone to the most nim-witted of mistakes. Today, though, I bring forth a far more intriguing specimen: Cassandra Ironwoods, who seems to go by “Cash”, is a sixth-year student at Hogwarts. How old are they? Seventeen. How long have they been seventeen? Well, perhaps not as long as they have been in the sixth year, which is a while. I remain unaware whether or not this was purposeful or a result of bêtise, but I am inclined to believe the latter. They seem deranged and unable to process emotions—really. I have heard that they nearly lost their mind after friends left them… and you wonder why they left.

Of course, this would hardly be interesting without information on the new faculty at our school. I shall begin with Ms Helen Aletheia Doukas, the librarian. She appears beautiful, calm and collected, something like a Helen out of Troy (pun most certainly intended). However, one must ask: “Is this too good to be true?” If you must inquire such a thing, then surely, it is. Although beautiful on the outside, poring through records has informed me that Ms Doukas’s friendships have hardly lasted. Coincidence? Or, perhaps, does Fortuna not hold Ms Doukas in her favour? I suppose one might ask Ms Doukas herself…

Finally, intriguing information regarding our brand-new Charms professor, Ms Katherine Townsend. Don't be fooled by the bright pink or glitter—all that glitters is not gold. One might recall how Professor Sauber was once the Potions Master. Curiously, he delivers potions to Ms Townsend often. It has been mentioned that she is concealing something, perhaps even a change into a hag. Do remain cautious around her.

Fabricate all you wish, but I will, of course, ascertain the truth.

XOXO,
Lady Audentia


Fall from Grace: the Winfield Scandal
by Polytropos

The 23rd of December, 2025, was a life-changing date for Hogwarts’ very own Miss Charlotte Winfield and the rest of her family. Through a close web of eyes and ears, I, Polytropos, have discovered the truth behind the story—the rumours, the slander. Today, we will dissect each one, sentence by sentence, and step over the remnants of the Winfield reputation while we are at it.

“So my pop's in prison”, was how Miss Ethel Winfield started her statement. Yours truly noted down this conversation, ink to paper with guaranteed accuracy. This could only lead to one logical conclusion, if we are to believe it is significant enough to deserve a place on the Hogwarts Headliner: “Azkaban, I mean, the big one”.

From Miss Ethel Winfield, we glean further information related to the perpetrator, none other than Mister Fabian Winfield, the patriarch of the family. “He was always sort of an oddball, but this is just completely bonkers. I used to joke with [my sister] about how one day we'd find out he was like, a murderer or something, but I was just taking this piss.” We all know how the devil comes when we speak of him—perhaps young Winfield was not ‘taking the piss’ after all. The behaviours of a monster in disguise are difficult to spot, yet when they lurk in the shadows of our living rooms, sometimes doubt and speculation are worth the risk for one’s own safety and well-being.

“If we're honest, though, I'm not shocked it was him”, the daughter of Mister Winfield continued. “He was always coming home with these scratches on his face, like he just got done battling a dragon. I thought it might be dragons. Wasn't, though.” Proving that this suspicion was founded beyond simple paranoia, questions arise about what truly caused the scratches on the man’s flesh.

So, we have a primary source, but the question is, beyond the young child’s blabbering, what really happened?

I have gathered all the statements I could back with evidence, and below I present to you my complete report on the case. Fabian Winfield was found guilty of performing dark magic without Ministry knowledge, despite being a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. How ironic, the very police force of the Wizarding World harbouring a man so wretched and treacherous. While there are no concrete details on his firing or the events leading up to it, Fabian is no longer a member of the Ministry, and the Winfield family is in disarray. It is said—or, rather, reasonably guessed—that he has a record of domestic use of inappropriate magic, ranging from harming himself to harming others.

Rumours, of course, are ever circulating. I have heard whispers where students thought they were alone, all hushed tones and secrets behind shielding hands. They say that this is the first fire that will eventually burn down the Winfield legacy. Reputation renowned in the pure-blood world, could this be the end of the bloodline? What an ungraceful fall and what an unfair end. The lives of promising young heirs and heiresses, ruined by one man’s action.

What will become of the Winfield children because of their father’s incarceration? That is another mystery for us to solve, and thankfully, we have the specimens amongst our own student population. Keep your eyes peeled, readers.


Editor’s Note: This shouldn’t be published. Publishing slander under a pseudonym is utterly reprehensible. I apologise to Charlotte, denounce our immature EiC’s abysmal decision to print this, and dearly hope she understands that she has advocates here.


Valentine's Day in Wizarding Villages Around the World
by Simon Kincaid

Here within the corridors of Hogwarts, witches, wizards, and half-breeds celebrate Valentine's Day in many ways. Some pass out charmed notes, distribute enchanted sweets, or deliver enchanted roses to those they hold dear. Still, these familiar customs are only part of the fun, with wizarding villages around the world celebrating Valentine's Day in their own magical ways.

HOGSMEADE VILLAGE, SCOTLAND

In the village of Hogsmeade, being in such close proximity, shopkeepers appeal to the students of Hogwarts. Despite the cold, Valentine's Day is one of the busiest days of the year, and visitors are welcomed with warming charms and shop windows softly decorated with charming touches that entice passers-by to come in. Many shops run Valentine's Day offers that include enchanted treats, heart-shaped sweets, and little magical trinkets.

Many couples can be seen strolling through the village hand in hand, or friends meet up to exchange novelty gifts. In Hogsmeade, Valentine's Day is a day where there is an unspoken rule that no one should feel left out.

PLACE CACHÉE, PARIS

You'll find elegance all throughout this hidden wizarding district in Paris. Some choose this destination because it refuses to yield to the exploding hearts, the singing telegrams, and the overeager charms that Valentine's Day brings to the other wizarding areas of the world. Instead, you'll find romance in what already exists—in its galleries and operas, elegant restaurants, hidden courtyards, and renowned jewellers, perfumeries, and patisseries. As evening approaches, music drifts through the air and couples can walk along a river that curves through the district. Love has already made itself a home here and needs no special acknowledgement during Valentine's Day. Its natural charm, however, draws more visitors during Valentine's Day than usual.

GODRIC'S HOLLOW, ENGLAND

Godric's Hollow feels heavy with memory when Valentine's Day comes around. Here, Valentine's Day isn't about falling in love but about having been loved and carrying that with you. Villagers there write letters to lost lovers, departed spouses, friends who never returned from war or curses, and loved ones no longer with them. These letters are folded and placed into a communal stone basin and burned, where it is believed that magic somehow delivers the messages. Beyond this tradition, the villagers celebrate love by sharing meals from inherited recipes and telling stories.

DIAGON ALLEY, ENGLAND

Diagon Alley goes all out for visitors during any holiday, and Valentine's Day is no exception. Shops compete to outdo one another with extravagant window displays of enchanted jewellery, self-writing love letters, and exquisite perfumes. Valentine's Day bargains are common, and you can find gifts that are sure to impress. You'll find couples walking the area, families and groups of friends moving from shop to shop, and often see someone ready to give a public proclamation of love.

TINWORTH, ENGLAND

Wizards and witches who live in Tinworth must be mindful of the Muggles that also occupy their town and keep Valentine's Day low-key. This coastal village has a unique Valentine's Day tradition where, at sunset, lanterns are lit along the harbour and cliff paths. Couples often light one together, and friends and families can do the same. There is a charm placed upon them so that they are enchanted to burn steadily no matter the weather.

These wizarding communities show us that Valentine's Day is far from a single, united tradition. There are bustling places like Diagon Alley, and the quieter celebrations of Godric's Hollow and others. Each community reflects its values in how it marks the day, shaping romance to fit its history and way of life.

But what unifies them is not how they celebrate, but rather why. Across the wizarding world, love is protected, remembered, and shared. However you celebrate, may your day be filled with love. Happy Valentine's Day, Hogwarts.


From Sword-Shaped Chocolate to Silver Daggers: Welcome to Hogwarts Valentine’s Day!
by Meyra Lancaster

Between calls for lasting romance, where the heart is restless and yearns for love, to anonymous letters with specific names on it, to cursed cupcakes and a surprising consensus on the legality of love potions and on the fact that big grand gestures must be kept private, romance in our school will never be just about flowers and sweet things. To find out how each Hogwarts House actually experiences Valentine’s Day, important questions were made to students from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The results reveal that love, much like magic, is deeply personal and, occasionally, disastrous!

So, what exactly does each House wish for Valentine's Day? The responses are varied, but, even so, we were able to find several similarities between the preferences and what most people would like to avoid receiving. It’s interesting to notice how some of the answers are scandalously breaking with stereotypes while others are so obvious there’s no effort needed to guess their House.

Gryffindors, known for their bravery, are actually waiting for others to confess while secretly writing their love letters. Hufflepuffs, not surprisingly, are, in their majority, asking for the classic and romantic chocolate frog, even if some would only be satisfied with handmade gifts that would show the effort and dedication from their other half. Ravenclaws vary in taste like the creative creatures they are. Can be a kiss, a flower, a letter… but, more importantly, time with their loved ones. Slytherins seem to be longing for vacations, something of rare value, quality time and even more sophisticated gifts. Someone said they want a Truth Serum. Wondering… is that for a certain Gryffindor who’s hiding in angst for a confession of loyalty? Or is it to uncover something more like a betrayal? I dare to say, we all want to know!

And what about what no one wants to receive? Apparently there’s a lot of originality going around this castle. Some replied that receiving nothing was the worst gift. I wonder if they would rather receive vomit-flavoured beans, a singing card that wouldn’t shut up for three days straight, knit socks from your parents, an Amortentia muffin, a heart-shaped box full of aggressively pink items, hate mail from an ex-friend, a Ravenclaw announcing a fake boyfriend to their parents or being stood up at the Three Broomsticks by a Gryffindor. I know what my answer is!

One of the most striking similarities though, between all the Houses, seems to be the preference for whispered love rather than shouting it in public. Gryffindors prefer big gestures in private, Ravenclaws don’t want anyone staring at them, Hufflepuffs don’t want to feel the anxiety, pressure and humiliation and Slytherins consider public gestures either desperate, entertaining or weaponizable. In all cases, public gestures seem to be unrequired, embarrassing and probably a risk not worth to be taken.

Another thing that seems to unite us, probably to the relief of many of us, is the strong opposition to the use and existence of love potions. Hufflepuff students are concerned about its ethical and legal use, Ravenclaw students tend to find it disturbing, Slytherin students argue that it should be dealt with legally, and Gryffindors lean towards something that can be seen as aesthetic, but definitely not something to be used. Even those who responded with "cute" contradict their answers by immediately confessing stories of past traumas. Who are you, by the way?

I think it's fair to conclude that we all agree that love is best when it’s honest, private, and free of enchanted baked goods!


The History of ‘Galentine’s’ and How Society Has Influenced Valentine’s Day
by Violeta Roux

Valentine’s Day has been around since ancient Rome, originally as a Christian feast day honouring a martyr named ‘Valentine’; later on, this date became a celebration of romance and love in many major regions of the world.

Over the past couple of centuries, this event has taken on many different meanings, being influenced by factors such as religion, society, culture and more. In our modern society, the holiday has become extremely commercialised, focusing more on couples giving gifts instead of actually going out and celebrating their love. This commercialisation has influenced how people who are not in relationships celebrate or choose to not celebrate at all.

Galentine’s Day is a relatively new celebration. It first gained popularity in the United States in 2010. What is ‘Galentine’s’, though? What is its origin and how did it gain so much popularity?

The name itself is a combination of ‘Valentine’s’ and ‘gals’, and usually takes place on Valentine’s Day Eve, or February 13th. Galentine’s is often a day for women to celebrate friendships with their girl friends. Essentially, it is Valentine's Day, except with your gal pals.

Many girls will meet up with their friends to celebrate. Those celebrations might be a sleepover, a dinner party, a luncheon or anything that reunites friendships and celebrates their platonic love. Some of these celebrations include gift giving, similar to Valentine’s Day, which might influence some to not participate as they can't give for different personal reasons.

Let’s talk about female friendships. Female friendships are extremely important. Many forget about this as modern society has put a lot of pressure on romantic relationships, and some people end up forgetting that friendships are just as, perhaps even more, important than romantic relationships.

Genuine friendships are hard to find. However, when you find them, a friend is a confidant—someone who you trust and can have fun with. They’re someone who likes you for you and doesn’t want you to change. Eventually, they come to love you, platonically, for who you truly are. They support you and they tell you the truth, even if it hurts. Girl friendships are one of the best ones you can have, if you have a genuine one, of course.

Still, even with the pressure that modern society has put on romantic relationships, how Valentine’s Day is an event which commemorates romance and may feel incomplete without a romantic partner, many girls might end up having a Galentine’s Day instead of Valentine’s Day, still wanting to celebrate the date in a different way.

Obviously, teenagers should not have to be forced into relationships by society. Many girls simply don’t want to be in those types of relationships just yet. That is completely acceptable, of course. There’s always Galentine’s.

Now, how did this affair surface? Surprisingly, it originated in a Muggle TV show called ‘Parks and Recreation’ in an episode called, not surprisingly, ‘Galentine’s Day’. Spoilers for the episode below.

Every year on February 13th, Leslie Knope—a character of this sitcom—throws a party for all of her girl friends. The premise of this event is ‘ladies celebrating ladies’, as Leslie says, ‘no husbands, no boyfriends, no partners, just breakfast foods and friendship’.

After this episode aired, the event became popular in the United States and, soon enough, throughout the world.

Many women have celebrated this with their friends since the episode aired. These celebrations obviously don’t have to be elaborate parties; they just have to be something fun with your friends.

I truly recommend hosting a Galentine’s Day event. If you haven’t this year, there’s always next year.


Hogwarts’s Educational Requirements for Acceptance: Too Lax or Just Right?
by Aly Salinger

With my graduation from Hogwarts creeping ever closer, I have begun to look around at my classmates and hold pride in what we’ve learned through seven years in these hallowed halls. I’ve seen my fellow seventh years cast spells we wouldn’t even have dreamed of when we crossed the lake at eleven years old. Look how far we’ve come.

However, now I wonder just how little we knew when we arrived here. Some of us had indeed heard of the magical world, and some hadn’t—and we all learned just the same. Was Hogwarts checking to make sure we would do well here as students? Are there even educational requirements to be accepted here?

Though the Book of Acceptance was unfortunately unavailable for comment, I gathered some stories of pre-Hogwarts education from the student body in an attempt to glean exactly what goes into our acceptance rate.

Personally, I was tutored and homeschooled before coming to Hogwarts—learning reading, writing, and (ugh) a bit of maths. Of course, there was no prior learning of spells or potions due to Hogwarts’s strict educational rules on learning any magic before arrival. (Seriously? We have rules against that, but no educational basic requirements?)

Many others also were homeschooled, like first-year Slytherin Valour Argentum, whose tutors taught them “everything you’d expect a child to learn—arithmetic, English, science… etiquette classes, Latin, dance, music.” The youth even quipped, “First-year work is dreadfully boring now.” Similarly, third-year Slytherin and newly minted Quidditch captain Charlotte Winfield said, “I was homeschooled by my mother and father, and educated in multiple different facets of the wizarding world. It certainly got me prepared for Hogwarts, although nothing can prepare you for the shock of actually being able to perform magic.”

Naturally, not everyone had a purely positive purview of their former educators. Said third-year Slytherin Keiran Kith, “Ms Murray’s home smelt like paper. I learnt how not to write spilling ink whilst doodling with her favourite quill when I was six.” Kith did however comment that though they thought she was insufferable as a child, “now I think it was because she wanted me always to do right by myself.” While that’s an excellent lesson to learn as a youth, is it really an educational requirement?

Those who grew up away from magic naturally had more Muggle-centric education. Second-year Ravenclaw Mirada Johnson attended a Muggle primary school in childhood, and apparently her parents even taught there! When getting to Hogwarts, Johnson was apparently “quite overwhelmed by the difference in the subjects, but I like learning about the different aspects of the magical world.”

And then there are our transfers. I shan’t begin to describe the requirements at international schools, but one of our newest students, Gryffindor fourth year Vladislav Gunther, told turbulent tales of training prior to arriving here: “I used to go to school publicly in Tennessee, as that was where I was born. But as I got older, and after my mother’s death, we moved to Russia and I had to learn Russian as a language as a child before eleven so I could communicate at Koldovstoretz.” This does bring up a good point—it’s tough to study at Hogwarts if you don’t speak the language.

Needless to say, all of these interviews have brought forth one very specific thing: that Hogwarts is accepting of all, regardless of prior education. We must be at least literate before arriving, of course, but whether you attended a fancy pureblood private school or a “normal” Muggle primary, we all ended up here together. Let’s make the best of it and learn as much as we can!


Rules on Review: Should Hogwarts’s Code of Conduct Be Kept?
by Evpraksiya Vinogradova

When a student sets foot on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they step not only onto weathered stones beneath spiralling towers, but into customs shaped by witches and wizards morbidly susceptible to the rarefied attitudes of centuries past.

It is made abundantly clear to even the most vaguely interested observer that Hogwarts is one institution that takes pride in its traditions, and nowhere is this more evident than in the Code of Conduct. In the most basic terms, the Code is a document that governs student behaviour and ‘safeguards order’ within the institution.

Yet as we begin to move from quills to ballpoint pens, from live music to radio, it is worth posing the question whether this Code still serves its intended purpose.

The Code of Conduct is clearly intended to protect. One only has to begin reviewing the text to notice that the rules regulating curfews, spell usage, and student interactions all exist to pre-emptively prevent harm whether through accidents or intention. Given that Hogwarts houses hundreds of partially-trained adolescents, structure is undeniably necessary, but as Louis D. Brandeis once put it, “If we desire respect for the law, we must first make the law respectable.”

As it stands, the most prevalent issue with the Hogwarts Code of Conduct lies in its inconsistency. It relies heavily on an individual’s judgement. In the past, specific students have been repeatedly excused for severe infractions under the pretence of bravery, talent, or even mere circumstance, while others are reprimanded for comparatively minor disobedience. This selective enforcement does not lend itself to trust in authority and actively encourages students to view rules as obstacles rather than principles that can be respected. When you make discipline unpredictable, compliance becomes performative in response. While we are not criticizing any professor in the wake of recent controversy, we are encouraging students to think critically about the rules they follow.

Furthermore, the Code leans towards punishment over education. Detentions, point deductions, and private reprimands are common responses, but rare are the times the system allows for students to reflect meaningfully on their actions. A Code that enforces rules without fostering comprehension has only produced compliance rooted in fear, and not responsibility as the founders themselves intended. Hogwarts should aim to cultivate witches and wizards who act ethically because they understand consequences and not because they are being watched.

That said, any call to abolish the Code of Conduct is entirely misguided. Complete freedom within a magical institution is akin to setting a dragon next to a pen of sheep; no one immersed in magical culture would be surprised to see the resulting butchery. Rules provide boundaries, and boundaries create safety. The problem, however, is not the presence of the Code, but its failure to evolve.

A revised Code of Conduct should emphasise transparency and fairness. Rules must be applied evenly, regardless of House, reputation, or personal relationships with staff. Students should be taught the reasoning behind the regulations, particularly those involving dangerous magic. In addition, the Code should acknowledge the realities of the modern magical world and prepare students accordingly, rather than sheltering them in outdated ideals of innocence. Accountability must be extended beyond students alone. Professors and administrators play central roles in shaping how rules are perceived, and if authority figures bend or ignore the Code when it suits them, they undermine its legitimacy in its entirety.

“Chaos was the law of nature; Order (is) the dream of man.” — Henry Adams, The Education of Henry Adams


New Year, Old You — Why Self-Reinvention is a Myth
by Archer Duncan

New year, new you. The same mantra echoes across duelling halls and Quidditch pitches, occupies the Great Hall and student dormitories, and courses through frozen January fingers with the promise of novel possibility. As the year dips into 2026 as swiftly as a diving falcon, the seductive desire to become an entirely different person, this so-called “rebranding”, is a presence stronger than ever. The calendar flips, and without any further ado, we are invited to shed our old skin along with all our perceived imperfections.

But have we ever considered that we have made a myth out of an unattainable goal?

Change is made by meticulously editing through existing texts, not ripping out the pages entirely, yet we are so drawn to the latter because of the inevitable human nature of regret. We carry patterns we are ashamed of, and we wish to discard them in the new year, not through strategic tactics but through a reptilian shedding of skin. The problem is that the ones who seek solace in the mantra of new year, new you do not have a desire for improvement, but instead indulge in fantasies of discontinuity. As we aim for “reinvention”, we declare war on our past selves, believing the only way of moving forward is to kill our pasts. Not only is this internal war exhausting, but it is inefficient and only leads to failure two weeks into 2026.

To understand how to move forward in a manner that is not just effective but healthy, we must dissect the architecture of the mind. We are more than a singular entity, not a sole being, but a collection of layers based on our values, our temperaments, and our memories. These layers form the bedrock upon which sit our skills, beliefs, and habits. To become a new person entirely is to ignore this structure, which would only lead to ultimate defeat and collapse. To change without shaking our foundations, we must work with and integrate into this psyche’s architecture rather than work against the current.

Growth is, above all, evolution. This mindset is kinder, more sustainable, and in the end, more successful. It begins with acceptance, embracing that the person who struggles with their aspirations and the person who sets their goals are the same, and that there is no fault in such an existence. Instead of trying to delete the saga known as life, make edits where due, and build upon the strengths that already exist to reach greater heights. Changes are not pivoting from a Renaissance building towards a jarringly brutalist work, but rather a representation of values and their development.

Reinvention is a siren’s song that ought to be resisted. We must exit this cycle of useless desperation and see light in the beauty we have worked so hard to create. A flower must be allowed to bloom before it is ruthlessly cut down and replaced with another all over again.


Magical & Muggle Meals: Pancakes!
by Ruth Fairchild and Aly Salinger

With Pancake Day coming up on the 17th of February, Aly and Ruth have decided to collaborate to provide you with a brief history of this day, and a fantastic recipe to try yourself!

Shrove Tuesday, also known as Pancake Day, marks the day before Lent, a period of fasting and restraint in Christian tradition. “Shrove” comes from the phrase “to shrive”, meaning to confess sins. The date of the feast is moveable, determined by the date of Easter. Easter Sunday falls on the first Sunday after the full moon following the March equinox, changing every year with the lunar cycle. Lent begins on Ash Wednesday, forty-six days before Easter, making Pancake Day forty-seven days before Easter Sunday.

As pancakes were easy to make and used rich ingredients that were not eaten during Lent, such as eggs, milk or butter, it became a tradition to make and eat pancakes on the day itself. Other cultures celebrate with variations, such as Polish-Americans, who eat filled doughnuts called paczki instead. While some people observe the day in a religious sense, others do so purely out of cultural tradition, with Pancake Day evolving into a festival or carnival such as New Orleans, Louisiana. People in England even gather to watch or compete in pancake races, when participants race while flipping pancakes in a frying pan!

Since we can’t exactly go about flipping pancakes around the grounds, there are other ways you can celebrate Pancake Day, such as hosting pancake breakfasts or even dinners in the common room. Here’s our recipe to make these delicious flippers if you so choose!


Ingredients:

• 1 ½ cup Wizarding Wheat Self-Charmed Flour (*all-purpose flour)
• 1 tablespoon sugar from Sugar Shrub (*white sugar)
• 3 ½ teaspoons baking powder
• 1 ¼ cups dragon milk (*cow milk or alternative)
• 1 ½ cups dragon butter (*cow butter or alternative)
• ⅓ teaspoon salt
• 1 Occamy egg (*chicken egg)
• Any wanted mix-ins (see recipe for details)

*Muggle alternative.

Directions:

1. Over a low flame (*microwave or stovetop), melt 1 ¼ cups of butter, reserving a quarter cup for later.
2. Sift the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large cauldron until well-combined.
3. With a spoon, pat a shallow hole in the centre of the dry mixture. Pour inside your milk, egg, and melted butter from earlier.
4. Mix until batter is smooth and silky, making sure to beat out any clumps of dry ingredients against the side of the bowl.
   a. OPTIONAL: If you like, you can add mix-ins to your pancake batter during this step! Chocolate chips or blueberries are classics, or you can add anything from chocolate sandwich cookies to cinnamon to lemon! (Just don’t add those all together. That would be one odd pancake.)
5. Over a medium or medium-high flame, lightly coat the bottom of a flat cauldron (*pan or griddle) with a small portion of the remainder of the butter. Pour about ¼ cup of batter into the cauldron; if you’re able to fit multiple at a time, make sure they don’t touch!
6. Flip the pancake via Levitation Charm (*big spatula or similar tool) when the edges are crisping up and drying out, and bubbles are forming and popping in the gooey center. Be careful with your flips—the last thing we need is more house-elves with facefuls of batter!
7. Cook the pancakes for about 2-3 minutes per side before removing them from the pan. Refresh the melted butter in the pan between batches!
8. Eat your pancakes in a stacked form and top with whatever you like. Honey, maple syrup, bananas, whipped cream—or bologna, who are we to stop you?

A Prank Played, A Retaliation Returned
by Oonagh Brown

To the readers,

Cheers to you from your favourite writer for relevant information—or what I would call relevant, at the very least, so it would be only natural to assume it is relevant for you, too! I am sure this is the response you have all been waiting for, naturally so, a report on what retaliation Al received after so boldly starting a fight of pranks and tricks.

What better audience for this spectacle than the Headliner to spread the word?

Al, of course, has had a strong start in response to me calling him out, going as far as to steal, or, well, “rehome” the gargoyle that has been guarding one of the classrooms. You know, the one that is basically scheduled nap time? Yeah, that one. He allowed for the gargoyle to be freed from its previous place under cover of night and rehomed it whilst teaching him some tricks.

Well, with Valentine’s Day fast approaching while this article is being written, it is the time of trickery indeed. So, I have chosen to make my move. Take notes, because this was a fun one!

The Set Up
Al is someone who is open about many things, someone who likes to share about their life, you see. So it was not hard to know that he would be quite susceptible to a Valentine’s-themed prank such as this one. If you have friends that are the same, lovesick and easy to prank, perhaps take some notes!

The idea was simple. Waste. His. Time. Awesome, right? So I simply took a trip to that perfume-stinking shop in Hogsmeade and got a whole lot of their sweet-smelling Valentine’s Day cards, on which I wrote little notes—ensuring to alter my handwriting and all.

The Goose Chase
As poor Al—though I would say he deserved it for challenging me—followed the trail of stupid cards, I was waiting. And I mean that literally! I was waiting on one of the pillars in the Courtyard—the final area the cards had led to—with a water bucket. And, as he approached the final note, he—you guessed it—got a shower, free of charge!

The Conclusion
Revenge, truly, is a dish—or shower—best served cold. YOUR move, Alphonse.

We Are Retiring to Make American Girl Doll Shoes
by Alyss Gilmour & Evpraksiya Vinogradova

It’s taken a long time and many, many tears to write this, but we feel it is of the utmost importance that we share this with our community. Effective immediately, Alyss Gilmour and Evpraksiya Vinogradova will be resigning from the Hogwarts Headliner. You may be asking yourself: Why would they do such a thing? They write such amazing, captivating articles and have fantastic stories to share. Well, this is because we have discovered a new calling, a new way to express ourselves and feel genuine joy whilst doing so. The new art form we are taking up is the creation of American Girl doll shoes.

Some of the lovely wizards reading this may be wondering what in Merlin American Girl dolls are, and why we would be interested in the construction of their shoes. American Girl dolls, as you may expect, are dolls. They are created with their own personal stories and sold to Muggle children that wish to explore the life of each girl. Their shoes, although a seemingly insignificant part of their person, are incredibly important. The question “Where are you from?” is something we anticipate as well. How do we even know what these dolls are? Well, a gift from Muggle grandparents to a half-blooded daughter on her seventh birthday just so happened to be the startlingly beautiful Saige, whose riding boots characterize a great dedication and love for horseback riding.

Each shoe tells a unique story full of challenges and accomplishments. We have set out to begin creating these stories ourselves. Just as a squid takes to water at birth, we have taken to the art of crafting small shoes! Dance shoes, cowboy boots, galoshes, brogues, wingtips, spats; if you can name a shoe, we can craft it. This has been something at the forefront of our minds for many weeks, and as we approach our community to announce it, we are overcome with fear. What if we are shunned for our passions? Chased from civilization? Thankfully, we have accepted this part of ourselves and hope you can too.

That said, we've had many incredible moments on the Hogwarts Headliner. There was a day when we were shown various images of birds, such as pigeons, flamingos, and what we'd thought was a pheasant only to be a siamese fireback. We were not at all disturbed by this and would like to add that we were very calm and handled it very well. A peacock, a roo-chicken, and a marabou that was actually a roseate spoonbill were all shown. Which is fine. We didn't and don't have any issues with this blatantly rigged excuse of a 'team-building activity' at all. Then came a penguin, a chicken which we did not mistake for a rooster, and a greater sage-grouse, the last of which is, in fact, the largest grouse in North America! We are now convinced we're in the largest hell of North America—a feat considering we're actually in Britain and the United Kingdom is nowhere near North America.

Then there was the squid costume that Mahlioz decided to commit to wearing for 4 hours during which they worked without a break. Stepping into the Hogwarts Headliner, they mentioned that the costume paid homage to the giant squid and was all handmade, and they refused to sit down until we'd all clapped for an arduous five minutes. When asked if there was anything the giant squid costume meant to them, they said, "NO." They proceeded to ignore any comments inquiring about their mental health. At the time of writing this article, we are reflecting on whether or not this is a pleasant memory or a traumatic one. If this makes it into the final article, please note that we are currently attempting to find Mahlioz a mental healer, hopefully from St. Mungos. The intervention will be hosted on the fifth of March in the courtyard. Feel free to bring streamers, congratulatory cakes that assure Mahlioz they are not alone in their concerning worship of the giant squid, and a mental healer or two that may support the one we’ve asked to come. The giant squid is not invited.

Now, at the end of our journey, dear reader, we want to wish you the best of luck in the future. The artistic process is a different one for every creative out there—and if yours happens to involve subtly buying out the house of your best friend on Craigslist for a Hogwarts Headliner adjacent team bonding activity, we support that too. If you wish to show your endorsement for those chasing their artistic ambitions, you may send an owl our way to order your American Girl doll shoes today.


Leaf Me Alone
by The Whomping Willow

Let me begin by saying this clearly—I do not attack students. I respond. There’s a difference.

For decades, I have stood on the grounds of this esteemed institution, minding my own business when THUD—a quaffle, CRACK—a rogue bludger, SNAP—a Muggle enchanted car.

Oh, it’s you—not me. I don’t roam the corridors striking first years. I don't fling acorns into the Great Hall. I don't whip my branches through the Library during exam seasons. No, I remain rooted in my assigned location, minding my business.

Yet, EVERY autumn I get, ‘I wonder what happens if I poke it,’ on your way to Hogsmeade. When the wind picks up in the Scottish Highlands I hear, ‘It’s kind of bald on that side. Do you think it’s dying?’ I’m not shedding during autumn, thank you; I’m entering a very dignified seasonal phase. Any branch whips that someone receives during October is merely correcting tone.

EVERY winter, there are snowballs. These snowballs are packed with ice. These snowballs are packed with ice and are aimed towards my knots. These snowballs are packed with ice and are aimed at my knots and, sometimes, are delivered with high-velocity magic. BE DONE.

EVERY spring, I’ve got Gryffindors and others alike attempting to test out their bravery for reasons that escape me. Maybe their mothers didn’t love them enough. Maybe they’re lame and weren’t able to make any solid friendships in which to spend their time with. ENOUGH.

Every summer, before holiday departure, someone decides I would make an excellent backdrop for dramatic wizarding photographs. They decide I'm an iconic landmark of Hogwarts and therefore they must get a photograph for memory’s sake. I don’t want you near me. I don’t want your camera or your idea of a ‘cute pose’. I’m not your prop. I'm more than just my looks—I have branches, I have roots, and I WILL use them if you get too close. BACK OFF.

I'm not here for your observations, I'm not here for your amusement, I'm not here for you to practice your spells and incantations, I'm here because this is where I was planted. LEAF ME ALONE.

Some complain that I don’t give warnings. Oh, but I do! I creak, I rustle ominously, I adjust my branches with deliberate theatrical menace. What more would you like, a sign that reads, ‘ATTENTION: TREE CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING ANNOYANCE’? I would carve it myself but apparently when I carve things it’s considered ‘threatening’. I only did it seldom with a ‘STEP CLOSER, I DARE YOU’, ‘TRY IT’, ‘I SEE YOU’, ‘INTERESTING DECISION’, ‘SHOULD HAVE KEPT WALKING’, and ‘EVERY ACTION HAS A REACTION’. I’ve been instructed to no longer do this.

When I extend a branch 40 miles per hour, that is called a boundary setting. Your professors enforce boundaries with detentions and I enforce mine with rotational velocity. We all have our methods.

Some students call me violent, unhinged, ‘the death tree’, or ‘the reason I need crutches’—but has anyone asked why I might be defensive? Perhaps being planted to guard a secret passage to the Shrieking Shack might make one a bit high-strung. I’ve endured decades of snow loads, owl collisions, tree climbers, experimental jinxes, and students ‘just seeing what happens’. This hardens one’s trunk.

Many students claim innocence and say they’ve only touched my bark once; they claim they barely grazed me. You grazed me. Would you like to be grazed by a stranger? No, you would not.

I'm not a monster. I'm not unstable. I'm a sentient guardian of the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and would simply like one afternoon without someone attempting to poke me with a stick. Respect me and I shall respect your skeleton.

I'm not unreasonable either. I merely have standards and they can be met if students demonstrate initiative. Those seeking redemption can:

Respect the perimeter - stones, signs, or a painted marker would be greatly appreciated. A clear zone around my trunk saves lives—or at least limbs.
Cease the dares - ‘bet you won’t’ is the most provocative phrase in the English language. Do not use it. Ever.
Grant seasonal courtesies - in autumn, no making leaf piles from my fallen extremities; in winter, no snowball target practice, decorations, frozen insults of my nakedness; in spring, silently admire me from afar; and in summer, respect my shade.
Offer recognition - public acknowledgement of my decades-long, thankless service would go a long way. Students may submit parchment compliments or quietly bow in respect at a safe distance.

Follow these rules and I shall continue to perform my duties efficiently and without incident. Respect me and all involved parties may leave fully intact with your dignity preserved. Otherwise, the Hospital Wing is always accepting new visitors.


The Hogwarts Hieroglyphliner
by Livia Machavariani

This April, it is quite important to pay attention to our great castle’s many passageways. Some of these, such as a meandering mass in the dungeons, are well-known. Others, though, are a bit more difficult to discern. It takes an intelligent soul to uncover the little symbols and codes that would otherwise link an individual to the things that sometimes go unnoticed.

Luckily for all of you, I am such an intelligent soul. You are quite welcome.

The first passage I shall enumerate is the one behind a portrait in the basements. If you know, you know. The one of the rather poorly fashioned old man. I would call him churlish due to the gravity of the insults he hurls. If you are a Slytherin and have walked directly from the common room to Potions class, you will understand what I mean. If you ignore the ancient brute’s insults and lift his portrait anti-clockwise, you will discover a tunnel. There are three scratches on the wall next to the portrait; I have not discovered what this means. The tunnel does not take you far. It deposits you on the shores of the Great Lake, with water lapping at your feet. This does make me wonder if this is how a young man apparently broke Slytherin’s toilets last year.

The next is more difficult to encounter. It also requires climbing, so do bear that in mind if you wish to search for it. When I first bumped into it (quite literally, I must add), I wore a dress. I had to change clothes and retrace my steps later; otherwise, I would have risked behaving in a way that did not befit a young lady of my status.

It is situated high on the stairs near the fifth floor, and I have only managed to find it when the stairs move. I do not yet know what this means. But, disoriented as I was, I found myself face-to-face with a suit of armour. Well, more like face-to-chestplate, as these suits of armour are made for the most behemoth of men. Should you not know who I am, I must inform you that I am neither burly nor a man. However, this strong guard’s chestplate, upon making contact with the delicate bones of my face, flew backwards! This was unexpected. Intrigued, I peered further, all while nursing my aching visage. Why yes, here it was: strange symbols were carved – or, rather, scratched – into the metal. Why one would deface such a prime specimen of chivalry was beyond me, but one of the symbols was an arrow. It pointed somewhat southeast, so I followed it. One individual stumbled into me, and I rammed my shoulder into a wall. However, in doing that, my shoulder bones hit a stone, and, to my surprise, the stone pressed inwards.

Huzzah! Similar to the bricks at Diagon Alley, the wall began to shift. The stones began to move. A tunnel, with a floor of wood and an arched ceiling, revealed itself. Sconces provided it with a warm glow. Being the incredibly inquisitive individual I am, I made to explore it.

If you intend to find your way through this tunnel, I would recommend learning one of the many door-opening spells. I hear that an Open Sesame works in a pinch. I was not granted this foresight, and I remained stuck in the tunnel for two hours (I counted) until a kind upperclassman opened the door… into the ballroom. That certainly explained why the path had sloped downwards! I regret that I had not carried my dancing shoes with me, although after that escapade, I was not exactly in the mood to dance.

For those requiring more external excitement, I recommend skulking about the kitchens. Do remain unhidden, as prefects patrol, and some are less kind than others. However, if you are caught, You can simply say you required a snack and did not want the offerings in the Great Hall. Perhaps you have specific dietary requirements. Whatever the absolutely veracious alibi, you simply must observe that within the kitchens, there is a small trap door. I will not tell you where it is, as that ruins the mystery.

Should you enter it, wear well-fitting trousers and closed-toe shoes. You will climb down a ladder and trek through a long passage. If you are tall, you will need to duck. After a rather dirty trek (shower afterwards!), you will find yourself entering a clearing surrounded by trees. It is rather beautiful when the sun coats the horizon in gold.

I hope this article has proved enlightening to anyone wishing for a taste of adventure!


The Hogwarts Headmasterliner
by Aly Salinger

Interjections and exclamations are a monstrous part of everyday language, both for Muggles and wizardkind. While our non-magical counterparts boast options for surprise, excitement, and fear such as “Oh my God!”, “Bloody hell!”, or “Crikey!”, the magical variants tend to mention historical figures in wix history. Most of the popular ones that you might hear around the hallowed halls of Hogwarts have to do with our famous alumni, the powerful Slytherin wizard known as Merlin. Whether we’re exclaiming something about his beard, pants, baggy Y-fronts, or perhaps less family-friendly variants, it’s certainly common to utilise these expressions to show when we magical folk are having a strong emotion of some sort.

The Merlin phrases are overused, tired, and positively boring. This April, why not spice up your vernacular with some fun, modern phrases centred around one of the more current famous wizards of our time — Hogwarts’ own Solomon Lear?

“But Aly, I don’t know how to make up my own wizarding expression!” No worries, dear reader! Allow me to teach you a few of my hard-thought techniques used in my daily life for exclamation creation!

1. Rhyme time!
   Have you ever noticed how many words rhyme with “Lear”? Peer, ear, sneer, sphere, tear, year — and, of course, the ever-pleasant “rear”. Even “beard” rhymes, if you want to keep the Merlin theme! There’s nothing better than a good bit of poetry in an emotional situation, so don’t be afraid to break out any word that rhymes with “Lear” and watch your friends’ eyes grow wide at your creativity.
2. Add adjectives!
   “Merlin’s Y-fronts!” Boo. Boring. Uncreative. “Merlin’s baggy Y-fronts!”, on the other hand, gives description and imagery. It paints a picture, and suddenly you can’t help but imagine one of the most powerful wizards ever trying to keep his Y-fronts from falling off his bum. You can do the same to Lear! “Lear’s nightie!” is fun and all, but “Lear’s fuzzy nightie!” evokes our Headmaster with a lovely furry sleeping cap and dust bunnies on his shoulders. “Lear’s nose hairs!” is gross, but “Lear’s gnarliest nose hairs!” is grosser!
3. Alliteration station!
   Speaking of adjectives, make them start with the same letter as your noun to pack an even funnier punch! “Lear’s dungarees!” is humorous, but “Lear’s dirtiest dungarees!” is hilarious. “Lear’s toes!” is chuckle-worthy, but “Lear’s twinkliest toes!” gives a whole different cackle-inducing image. And if you want to go the Merlin-esque route, you can always alliterate there, too: “Lear’s baggy bloomers!”
4. Relevancy is key!
   You can of course use any Lear-ism, as I’ve coined them, in any situation. However, make your exclamation hit even harder by connecting it to context! If you’re shocked at what you’ve just heard, say “Lear’s ears!” If you’re struggling to decide what to do after Hogwarts, “Lear’s career!” is sure to please.

Still not sure how to make your own Lear-ism? Follow the steps below to create your own unique expression:

Lear's

+

Your birth month
January: discombobulated
February: raggediest
March: mightiest
April: boorish
May: leggiest
June: zippiest
July: bumfuzzling
August: loosey-goosey
September: sassiest
October: piffling
November: blabbiest
December: blithering

+

First letter of your name
A: backscratchers
B: contact lens
C: misunderstandings
D: syzygy
E: ear hairs
F: raccoons
G: lasers
H: zenith
I: bibliography
J: dingbats
K: scrolls
L: leakage
M: grandmother
N: bafflegab
O: wisdom teeth
P: papayas
Q: enemy skulls
R: razzmatazz
S: ducklings
T: baby blanket
U: diseases
V: sobriquet
W: toe socks
X: innermost thoughts
Y: magomancy
Z: Nifflers

Finally, it should go without saying, but NEVER say these in front of Headmaster Lear if you don’t want to risk expulsion! Happy Lear-ing!


The Hogwarts Historyliner
by Archer Duncan

History has woven and turned itself through fascinating courses these past centuries, whether through choices made by humanity or fates' hand that led to a final decision. Often historians have asked the forever question of “what if?” We humans are a curious race—we love to speculate. So, in this issue, in light of April Fools' Day, let us bring some of our wildest guesses to paper, and consider them in all seriousness.

Today, we examine the following question: What if the Roman Empire never fell?

The divergence point of Rome’s hypothetical survival would have been the Crisis of the Third Century, when decisive resolutions and reforms by great emperors would have stabilised the empire, ensuring that the fall of the Western Roman Empire never occurred. Instead of fragmentation, Rome would have survived.

Without collapse, the following traits would define the Roman Empire as well-developed. Roads and aqueducts would stay maintained, literacy would remain widespread in Latin and Ancient Greek, and land would stay centralised under law without feudalism. Roman-Islamic rivalries may occur, but Rome, being more unified, would likely win any skirmishes.

Through 1000-1500 AD, early industrialisation would likely have begun. Since trade networks never collapsed, banking develops earlier, mechanical innovation scales faster, printing appears earlier, and gunpowder weapons could be standardised quicker. Instead of separate kingdoms like England and France developing their own system amidst conflicts, under the unified Rome, speed and efficiency would have been observed.

Roman global expansion would have been happening around 1500-1800 AD, fleets spreading across the Atlantic, where the Americas would become Roman provinces. Due to Rome’s stability, trade would likely have been maintained with the East through extensions and bettered versions of the Silk Road, keeping a healthy economic situation of imports and exports.

With the Mediterranean as the world’s core and a unified Europe, the world wars that hindered development would likely never have occurred due to lower geopolitical tensions. However, although unlikely, civil wars could have broken out, as well as rivalries with powers like China, India, and possibly the remnants of Persia.

If the Roman Empire continued today, the capital of the world might be in Constantinople, with Latin as the global diplomatic language, rather than English. Now that centuries have passed, language would have also developed differently from our modern-day languages, but still follow similar trends. Like the development of English, noun cases could have become simplified, while word order could have become more fixed. Simplification would likely have happened, as well as influences from cultures traded with, securing it as the lingua franca of this modern, parallel world. The Senate would still exist, with governors elected by provinces. Technology levels would possibly be further ahead due to the Dark Ages never happening.

Unfortunately, we would never know what would have really happened if the mighty Roman Empire survived, but there is always value in thinking outside of the box. This encourages analysis of the real Roman Empire, and forces us to rethink our own modern world.

History may already be written in stone, but it can still be a subject full of possibilities, giving space for analysis. We use what we imagine could have happened to fuel the realities of what truly did happen, and that skill is essential to any historian. Remember not to spread misinformation, have fun imagining the different outcomes possible, and happy April Fools' Day.


The Hogwarts Headacheliner
by Archer Duncan

“April Fools’ edition”, they said. Fools—now that’s exactly what I will talk about. I have a lot of things to say, and I am finally using my voice here for important matters.

My first complaint goes out to a special Mister Silas Norwood. And worry not, he’s not literate enough to read things off his own printing press. No, dear readers, I merely jest. Silas is endearing in his own manner. The first day I met him, we played a charming little game of volleyball, and that’s not to mention his creative insults and clever quips. His sense of fashion is also impeccable; just look at those glittering chains.

I think for all the hate we give Mister Norwood, he truly deserves some inkling of love. Despite his flaws, of which he, like all humans, has many, he is quite fun company, and for that, I forgive him for all his flaws. Perhaps if one truly gets to know him, one would find him to be enjoyable, if not slightly adorable.

My second complaint is for my most favourite dorm mate, Prat Raphael Pass. Prat has proven himself to be a most annoying living companion, mostly for his habits regarding sleep. I have been known to be a late sleeper to my friends, but recently, I have become more inspired by caring for my wellbeing, and I have attempted to retire before midnight. But no, it has been made impossible for whatever grand adventure my roommate has decided to embark on, so motivated is he at nighttime.

It is almost ironically funny, the way I have grown to be the one griping about another sleeping late. Merlin knows what he’s working on, but I will forever support his endeavours.

My final complaint features the feline of my nightmares, His Royal Highness Zeno. Most know him as my most beloved friend, yet we are all hiding secrets behind closed doors. True, he can be cute and lovable, and you will most certainly have the desire to give him some treats. It might be April Fool’s, but do not be fooled, dear reader! He has tricks up his sleeve.

Ungrateful creature as he is, whenever I show him love, he does not come up to me for cuddles and kisses, but prances away, hisses, gives me a few dirty looks, and then, an hour later, comes back to beg for more treats. I am sick and tired of this behaviour. But no, I merely kid, I do not put up with him, I love him and all his defensive instincts, and especially the rare times when his heart melts and he falls into my arms.

Complaints, complaints, complaints—I have plenty of those to give out. But this April Fools’ I urge you to give love under these supposed annoyances, and cherish the people around you. Have fun through pranks, enjoy yourselves with jokes, but make sure that you maintain the values of fellowship and friendship. What? I am certain I am a prime example of such chivalry.


How to Avoid the Maleficent Peeves
by Ruth Fairchild

When one hears the word ‘Peeves’ within the halls of Hogwarts, it’s almost apparent that the image of Hogwarts’ infamous poltergeist would form in the mind. You could probably go about your day, completely content, until even the slightest mention of him sends that smile slipping off your face. The countless attempts to prevent his gleeful attacks (positive on his end only, I’m afraid) have failed, leaving students wondering about what it takes to concoct a foolproof plan that would keep them safe for the next seven or so years. Fret not, dear readers, for I, Ruth Fairchild, shall present to you ways to live a Peeves-free life.

Peeves, if you have not yet heard of him (to which I am much awed about, really), is a poltergeist, meaning ‘an indestructible spirit of chaos’. Unlike ghosts, he seems to have a physical form that resembles a short jester. Complementary to his clown-like attire is his chaotic personality, taunting rhymes, and high-pitched voice. As an amortal, he may be one of the oldest inhabitants within Hogwarts, having been roaming the halls since c.993, when the school was founded. In a nutshell, he essentially came with the building, and as a result, will probably never be eradicated from the site. This is a totally useful guide on how to bypass his attempts to make your life miserable.

One of the ways to avoid Peeves wouldn’t be to stick by prefects or staff at all. This would be an incredibly useless thing to do. It may be partly because of those oversized fool’s caps that he dons, or his refusal to heed authority, but commands made towards Peeves from our dearest Hogwarts prefects or professors would be like air in the wind: fruitless. It is unfortunate, but cowering behind even the strictest professor you may know would not stop Peeves from lobbing stale bread at your head. Of course, the list isn’t inclusive of our Headmaster Solomon Lear, whose authority and power alone would have anyone halting in their tracks. This includes you, of course, since you wouldn’t want to bother such a busy man by badgering him about Peeves, would you? You might lean towards asking the Bloody Baron, though I wouldn’t try unless you were a Slytherin brimming with House Pride.

Another way to avoid Peeves would be to exist in a location that he visits infrequently. This may be a lot to ask. Mayhem of distraction has no boundaries, after all. But have you ever not wondered why you have never once encountered the poltergeist floating through classrooms during lessons? Just a thought to consider. Sure, some classes might be (not saying they are) able to put one to sleep, but anything that allows even a second’s worth of time away from Peeves’ would be fantastic, wouldn’t it? Adding to this would be the advantage of learning spells that could one day rid the eponymous nuisance. I’ve heard that the Langlock spell is useful for shutting him up, but unless you’re a sixth year, I’m afraid you’ll have to use other means to do so.

Last but not least, wreak havoc! This is definitely a 100% foolproof plan. Consider this logic–if there were an increase in pranksters, Peeves wouldn’t have to cause so much chaos on his own, which would undeniably decrease the rate of his attacks. After all, teamwork makes the dreamwork! Perhaps you could even find a way to gain mutual respect with one another. If there is no way of avoiding a problem, learn to embrace it, I guess.


Clowns and Their Horror
by Tristan Theramin

“Bwa ha ha! There’s a clown after you. Bwa ha ha! Red nose, creepy eyes, ready to kill you.” I hear a whisper saying these words as I make my way up from the Slytherin dungeons. I look around to see its source. It’s a clown. There’s a club in its hands and it follows me down the halls of the dormitories, and down to the Great Hall. There is no one else around. Who do I see under the makeup? No one. It looks crazed or perhaps it’s lost its mind. Who is this person raiding the hallways of the school? I know I must investigate it the moment I can stop it in its tracks. I jump in front of it and in a strange turn of events, the clown asks me “Will you interview me?” The following is a direct transcript.

Who are you?
“I am The Entity. You will never know my real name.”

Why are you here?
“I have chosen you. You will be my representative. You will be my servant.”

Why me?
“You do not exactly care for morality. Only empathy in its purest form, till it becomes toxic. It is a perfect vessel for my powers.”

What do you want me to do?
“Nothing. Nothing when someone dies in front of you. Nothing when someone is called a mudblood. Nothing when your best friend is attacked. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.”

What does that accomplish for you?
“Every time someone does not do something they feel they must do, I gain control over their future, little by little, until they lose the ability to do what they believe is right forever.”

Am I your first victim?
“You are your first victim. Tristan Ender Victoria Theramin, there is nothing you wish more than to take over this world and make it nicer to the outcasts, the Muggles, the world outside of your own. You would just create your own outcasts and your own inconsistencies.”

I suddenly woke up from the dream, and I lay there shivering, my own insecurities overwhelming me. It must have been a subconscious fear taking over my dreams. I went back to sleep. I went to Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, went to lunch and dinner. Everything was normal to the point that I almost forgot about the dream entirely. The next day I entered the printing press room, and laying there was this paper, with the exact transcript written above. My breath stopped and I desperately looked around to see if this was someone pulling a prank, but no one was there. On the back of the paper with the transcript, in dark red ink, were the words, “Goodbye, Mr. Theramin.”

The next day, I had the same dream and found the same paper, but with a different message on the back. There was nothing but dread within my very bones. I could not help but believe this entity was real, that it was haunting me. I went to broom racing practice, and there it was again in the corner of my eye. I went to my dormitory lavatory, and there it was in the corner of the mirror. It has not disappeared from my view and now I do not know what it wants from me. If anyone knows, owl me, or else I fear I have lost my mind.


BETWEEN THE LINES: Insert Title Here
by Ruth Fairchild

An antagonistic, atomistic acrostic
Knocks the locks on the knick-knacks in its
Vest, checking the verge of vestige of the
⠀⠀⠀Erumpent’s eroding, explosive
Anatomically huge hippopotamus horn;
⠀⠀⠀Dead – Demonstrably – the safari denizen.
Deprecatingly degrading the detrimental diamond in its vest, the
Antagonistic, atomistic acrostic
Accidentally hits the
⠀⠀⠀Very volatile horn
⠀⠀⠀And explodes. The end.

Poetry is a form of art that can be used to describe an infinite number of topics and themes, offering a way to convey even the most ridiculous, out-of-this-world scenes, such as this. To personify an ‘acrostic’...who would have thought? ‘Atomistic’? What could that possibly mean? Without spoiling too much of the poem—as it is up to you, the reader, to figure it out—this recent poetry issue is meant to mean everything yet nothing at all. Attempt to crack the mindless code and be in to win several chocolate frogs, risking your brainpower and common sense all the same, or perhaps muse at the tongue-twister-like alliteration techniques spewing across the work. It is written in a manner that is meant to make sense most unusually, and the fun is through reading it aloud.

As a special edition issue for April Fools’ Day, I have set up this linguistic puzzle to challenge our dear readers to try to interpret the poem in their own manner and find out the code hidden within. If you believe you have found the answer, send the poet in charge (Ruth Fairchild) an owl, or even drop by the Headliner office to receive the prize immediately. Trust me, it shouldn’t take very long—the format of the poem has been revealed since the very beginning. The rest fill the space as a distraction, which is what April feels like sometimes: a middle point, a distracting presence that hinders us from observing the past and predicting the future.

Such a mischievous, whimsical and slightly absurdist tone would certainly throw you off, would it not? The use of such over-the-top imagery is surreal—as surreal as the code which might make you blink twice. Another hint to take note of. I can only hope the joke lands with the right audience. There’s a slight obsession with classification; the denseness of the alliteration, repetition, and precise vocabulary seems to suggest some form of desire to define and measure, but the conclusion ends up being explosive and uncontrollable. Why is that?

To make it easier to understand the plot within the poem, albeit useless, Erumpents are creatures that resemble rhinos with explosive horns. Upon impact, it quite frankly explodes, which is what happens to the acrostic as it is unable to handle the horn with care. While the context provides little help in solving the poem, its violent ending should somewhat hint at the code involved. Have fun!

Until next time,
Ruth.


Magical & Muggle Meals: Best Prank Foods
by Aly Salinger

Looking for a last-minute April Fool’s Day prank before suppertime comes around? Well, look no further — and quick, head down to the kitchens to create your very own edible prank!


Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• ½ cup sugar from a Sugar Shrub (*granulated sugar)
• 3 cups dragon milk (*cow milk)
• 3 occamy egg yolks (*chicken egg yolks)
• 1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract**
• 3 tablespoons dragon butter (*cow butter)

*Muggle alternative
**Reminder NOT to use vanilla Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, lest you risk an exploding pudding! Unless you want to make this prank double-layered...

Directions:

1. Mix cornstarch and sugar in a cauldron (*pot) over medium heat. Add milk and stir repeatedly until the mixture boils, then stir for one minute longer or until slightly thickened. Remove mixture from heat.
2. Beat yolks together, then slowly whisk 1 tablespoon hot milk mixture to yolks. Continue to slowly add milk mixture to yolks, tablespoon by tablespoon, until yolk mixture is very warm (but not cooked yet!) — then add entire yolk/egg mixture back into pot with remainder of milk mixture.
3. Add pot back to heat and bring to a boil, continuing to stir. Stir for one minute after boiling, then remove pot from heat again.
4. Add butter and vanilla, stirring until butter is melted and mixture is mostly smooth.
5. Strain mixture through a strainer, then allow to cool.
6. Store in an empty (and well-washed) mayonnaise jar, then present to your mates when they ask for mayonnaise. Laugh maniacally when they add it to a sandwich!

Ingredients:

• 1 container plain Greek yogurt
• 1 can peaches
• 1 loaf pound cake
• 1 tbsp dragon butter (*cow butter)

*Muggle alternative

Directions:

1. Slice pound cake into bread-sized slices.
2. Heat butter over medium heat in a flat-bottomed cauldron (*sauté pan) until melted, then place 1-2 pound cake slices in melted butter. Allow to caramelize on one side (2-3 minutes), then flip and repeat until both sides are golden brown and slightly crispy, resembling toasted bread.
3. Remove slices from cauldron and slice circular hole out of the centre of each, then plate.
4. Spoon yogurt into central holes and smooth with back of spoon until it resembles egg whites.
5. Add ½ canned peach to the top of the yogurt to resemble an egg yolk. (You may have to cut down the peach to a smaller size for realism.)
6. Serve and enjoy the looks on your victim’s faces when they realise it’s a sweet version of Egg-in-the-Basket!

Ingredients:

• 1 container pre-made thick caramel sauce***
• 3 mid-size onions
• 3 mid-size apples
• Toppings of choice (nuts, chocolate, etc.)

***Preferably one that can harden/is specifically made for making caramel apples.

Directions:

1. Peel onions and cut off the hard ends, trimming until they are roughly apple-shaped.
2. Stick wooden sticks down through the tops of the apples and onions until they are about halfway down the fruits’ centres.
3. Prepare a dipping station, consisting of bowls of caramel and toppings of your choice nearby, as well as a tray for cooling.
4. Coat apples and onions in caramel first, ensuring that they are completely coated with none of the inside showing through; then dip in toppings of choice. We recommend sticking to one topping exclusively for the onions and another exclusively for the apples, so you can tell them apart later!
5. Allow caramel to cool and harden, then serve. Make sure you remember which one is an apple so you can eat one first and show your friends there’s nothing to be afraid of!

Hogwarts Crushes the IMOG: Interviews with our Medalists
by Aly Salinger

When I attended the International Magical Olympic Games in Russia this past February but did not compete, my mates thought I was a loon. While I admit I would have loved to compete in Summoner’s Curling or try my hand (er, foot?) at Figure Skating, it was necessary to have boots on the ground covering the sports. And what luck that I was those boots, because Hogwarts took home the overall win with a total of fourteen gold medals, nine silver, and three bronze! For context, the second-place school, Beauxbâtons, only claimed four gold, four silver, and one bronze—so it’s clear we ran away with the victory!

Our twenty-six different medalists represent the very best Hogwarts has to offer, across different years and Houses. Gryffindor earned the most medals with 11; Slytherin and Ravenclaw tied for second place each holding 5; Hufflepuff was right on their heels with a lovely 4. (We couldn’t seem to discover to which House the bronze medalist in years 4-7’s team hockey event belongs, for some reason.)

To say Hogwarts is proud of our medalists at the IMOG would be the understatement of the year! It is an honour simply to medal at the Olympics, but to be the winningest school of the year is unfathomable. Naturally, we spoke with several of our medalists about their wins.

Simon Kincaid (sixth-year Hufflepuff) and AngelFyre McCubbin (fifth-year Hufflepuff), figure skating doubles gold
What did you do to prepare for the competition?

AngelFyre: My mother was almost an Olympian in the Muggle Winter Games of 1988 for the U.S. Women’s Figure Skating team. She even choreographed most of our routine for us.
Simon: I grew up playing hockey. AngelFyre helped me refine all that into something more civilized. She even had me practising ballet moves off the ice, but I drew a hard line the day she walked into the Rehearsal Room with a leotard and tutu for me.
AngelFyre: We also prepared for things going wrong. That part was very important to me. Unfortunately for us, we missed a couple of critical elements and found ourselves in need of our backup: Plan Déjà Vu. We practiced it—and others like it—until it felt as natural as the original choreography.
Simon: Those failed moments that turned triumphant are what I’m proudest of; not the gold medal itself, but the trust and teamwork it took to salvage the routine and end up where we did. Winning gold was incredible, don’t get me wrong, but the preparation, that’s what made the gold possible.

Valour Argentum (first-year Slytherin), figure skating solo silver
You won the bonus Judge's Favourite outfit award, which helped propel you to second place! Talk us through your outfit and how you put together this silver-medal ensemble.

“Well, [censored]—here I thought it was my quadruple axel that ‘propelled me into second place’! My outfit was heavily inspired by the look and feel of Fiona Apple’s albums ‘When the Pawn…’ and ‘Tidal’. Music has always been the foundation of my creative visions. Plus, I went too heavy on the eyeliner and decided to just go with it.

Kaitlyn Connor (third-year Slytherin), figure skating solo gold
What did you feel when you realised you had won over so many other competitors?

Kaitlyn: I was so surprised to hear it. I still am, as a matter of fact. I'm happy to have competed for Hogwarts, and earned a gold medal.

Ari Gwild (fifth-year Ravenclaw), ice hockey team silver
How do you feel having won a silver medal?

Ari: It's a very fulfilling accomplishment, and I'm very happy to represent Hogwarts on the podium even if we didn't get gold. Although I was knocked unconscious halfway through, I still hope I made my friends and family proud, especially my mum.

Evelynn Decipio (seventh-year Gryffindor) and Pericles Dralt (seventh-year Ravenclaw), joint figure skating solo golds
What made you agree to share the medal instead of requesting a tie-break?

Evelynn: Well, of course I would choose to share it. Why would I not? To do otherwise would suggest I thought myself somehow more worthy of the medal than Pericles, and that simply isn't true.
Pericles: My intent in joining IMOG wasn't to outshine anyone save myself: I wanted to see if I could succeed in an official circuit, and I did. Sharing that win with a friend takes nothing away from what I've accomplished. If anything, it makes this moment all the more memorable, and stands as further testament to Hogwarts' immense talent.

If you see one of these medalists, or anyone else who competed at the IMOG, make sure to congratulate them for all their hard work! Lear knows that if I had won a medal, I wouldn’t stop wearing it for the rest of the semester!


Staircase Revolt: Do Our Stairs Hate Us?
by Alyss Gilmour

My dear friend, have you ever found yourself in an unexpected location with nothing to blame but the magical staircases? The furniture that is intended to lead you to your destinations, but instead fails you, transporting you to a separate floor entirely? If so, you are not alone! Our shifting staircases have been rebelling constantly—a rapid change, and with no warning? This isn’t the Charms classroom!

Our local students have their own stories to tell regarding the betrayal of our beloved stairways and the haunting sights they’ve been subjected to as a result. I, for instance, have been on my way to the Duelling Club simply for the joys of anger expressed through violent spell-casting, only to be directed toward the Ballroom. What I witnessed in that forsaken room can only be spoken in whispered voices under darkened skies—I shall take that secret to my grave. Unless a friend was really curious, in which I might be inclined to share.

Adapting to the stairways is an intense challenge, one that requires a great deal of concentration, patience, and, unfortunately, time. It took the lovely Cecilia Merrick a whole two months to become accustomed to the constant changes and shifts in the primary method of transportation between the floors here at Hogwarts. According to her, “I was often led to the wrong floor. Given my luck, this only occurred whenever I was short on time. Admittedly, I often am, but these delays caused by the staircase only made matters worse.”

Another interesting story comes from the one and only Aodhan Shaw, who claims that when he came in late from Quidditch practices, he would see “eyes and smiling teeth in the shadows under the staircases...only ever there for a second before they move!” This is concerning: I began this article with a dislike for the staircases stemming from last-minute switches, whether they be floors or rooms, not monsters! Mr Shaw went on to claim that he heard the repeated whispers of “snornex” before he decided that they were saying “you’re next”. This mighty Gryffindor went on to pin the whispers on a Slytherin student since the stairs brought him to the dungeons, but could this point to a darker side to our staircases?

Although it appears that these staircases are constantly betraying us (and possibly out to get us), we tend to have many adventures upon them, perhaps prompting their unruly temperament. Second-year Ravenclaw Novalie Moon told me a tale involving the intention to go sledging down the stairwell, only to end up wiping out instead. “I just wanted to see if I could, like, you know, bobsleigh my way down from the Ravenclaw Tower to the dungeons or wherever the stairs would take me, right? So, to properly bobsleigh, I obviously needed to freeze the stairs.” She proceeded to gather a sizable amount of water, spill it all over the stairs, and, using her housemate Zach Zaphiere’s robe, went sliding down the staircase. According to her, “Everything was going perfectly, too. The stairs had lined up straight and I was flying downward, until suddenly! One of them moved! It was too late to brake, and honestly, I didn't even know how, so I just went with it and WHOOSH! I was IN THE AIR!” You heard that right! The stairways purposely moved, completely intentionally, sending Ms Moon floundering through the air, dropping “hundreds of floors!”, slamming into an unfortunately placed lower step, bruising her quite harshly, and sending her skidding into the Trophy Room.

There is a wide range of fun to be had on the stairs, with the students Fire Davies and Hana Bakir supposedly placing bets on their ability to jump between platforms—not necessarily the safest form of play. Despite the trend we have seen of untimely shifts in direction and interesting situations one encounters, it seems the stairs decided to cooperate for these two with a seemingly fun, though dangerous, game of parkour.

Although our magical staircases are a constant reminder of the feats that can be accomplished with magic, they are far too random and even harmful, leaving many students feeling confused and frustrated. Our stairs? They hate us.


Scotland's Muggles and Their Beltane Fire Festivals
by Tristan Theramin

Beltane marks the transition between the cold and dark months of the year and the light and warm months of the year. Unlike our pesky Gregorian calendar, in which each of our months mark the transition of time, the Celtics marked their time with four festivals throughout the year. Beltane was special because it represented the transition between the cosmological forces of dark and light, warring against each other. The god it celebrates is not my favourite of the Celtic gods; those who know me would not be surprised to find that my favourite is Lugh, to the same extent that I enjoy Loki in Norse mythology.

Though most Muggles do not believe in these gods any longer, 21st century Muggles do have the fun habit of revitalizing their past traditions to make modern day revelries. The Beltane Fire Festival occurs every year in Edinburgh, Scotland, since its reinvention in 1988. The festival was revitalized by the University of Edinburgh and a musical collective called the Test Depth. It takes place every year on the first of May, with a bright bonfire which reflects the meaning of the word Beltane, i.e. “bright fire”.

I was born in Glasgow and am thus fascinated by the history that surrounds our fateful lands, Muggle and magical alike. After all, Hogwarts makes its home up here in these lands as well. Scotland has a long history spanning from prehistoric times, Roman invasion, and colonization, to the present. Of course, there was also sadly a long history of wixen being attacked by Muggles as well.

A unique aspect of the Scottish isles is the fact that in these lands, composed of 790 islands, Muggles have chosen the unicorn as their national animal, though they believe it is mythical. I feel that there is something beautiful about the fact that Muggles still hope for the magical despite having no evidence of it. They even have their own version of people they call witches. I wonder if they would accept us, now that they accept their own people who call themselves witches, though they are solely non-magical people who worship their ancient gods.

If you ever heard of the Muggle sport of golf, Scotland is also its first championship’s origin as well. Furthermore, Scotland is home to the oldest tree of five thousand years, as well as three thousand castles, making it the Muggle country with the greatest density of castles. Its national dish is called the haggis, a savory pudding made from sheep’s heart, liver and lungs, mixed with onions, oatmeal, and spices. The first color photograph was also taken in Muggle Scotland. In Gaelic, Scotland is known as Alba, a word derived from the Latin for “light”. The oldest Neolithic settlement left preserved, Skara Brae, founded around five thousand years ago, is found in Scotland as well. If any of you Purebloods do not understand the word Neolithic, it refers to the period of time in Muggle history where people first began to settle, domesticate animals, and farm land.

Muggles also have a system of machines that allow them to fly, which are known as airplanes. These machines usually take Muggles on flights lasting hours, but Scotland has the shortest of these scheduled flights, lasting only a little over a minute. Scotland also has the only knighted penguin in the whole world. Those living in the Muggle world often study far longer than us at an institution of higher education known as a university, and the fourth oldest university in the United Kingdom is found in Glasgow, made in 1451. Scottish Muggles believe that the Loch Ness and Morag are real, though not many believe them. Of course, they do not know what we know; the Loch Ness and the Morag are kelpies. Is that not fascinating? Muggles are so afraid of what is different yet so excited to find the magical and the different. Some dedicate their entire lives to it. Some chase storms. Some chase magic. Some chase love. All for the magic of life.

Perhaps all these Muggles yearn for the same magic that we yearn for. Yet they are better than us stagnant Purebloods, are they not? There is something to learn from them each time we study their history and perhaps, through this article, I can share their knowledge with this world.


Flawless Fashion at Hogwarts
by Livia Machavariani

From school robes to winter cloaks, observing an individual’s fashion is not always a simple matter. However, some students manage to distinguish themselves, and still others do more than that by creating their own couture.

To this end, I have obtained an interview with one Harvey Barrows, a second-year Slytherin. As one of my dear friends, he has continued to impress me with his fashionable finesse, which includes a simply stunning ensemble which he displayed at last summer’s Granian Derby. Mr Barrows pays a remarkable amount of attention to each individual for whom he designs, and, truly, his impeccable efforts require more attention from others. It is my intention that the information in this interview allows others insight into Mr Barrows’s outstanding mind.

When asked how he would describe what he, a designer, actually does, Mr Barrows responded by emphasising that “design is an art form”. He then elaborated that “...like any artist, you must understand your mediums and how to manipulate them to truly express yourself.” He noted that while paintings and visual art used in the decoration of homes could be moving to someone, clothing could provide “a much more personal representation” of oneself.

“[Clothes] can make you feel beautiful, they can make you feel confident, they can help you make a statement to the world about how you want to be seen,” he stated.

Regarding his style, he noted that he designs “for women exclusively”, intending to instil “confidence and a sense of power in the wearer”. As for his colours, they are “feminine and also assertive”. That is the philosophy with which Mr Barrows creates, and “the same goes for the structure of the clothes as well. Lots of straight lines with just enough flair to be beautiful.”

Based on the pieces that I have seen (and had the pleasure of wearing), I would concur.

As I was curious, I asked him what his favourite piece was. The answer was, for me, quite touching, in fact. Mr Barrows stated that it was a piece he had designed for me: “I feel like that was the first time I was really able to take something all the way from thought to actuality. It turned out exactly how I hoped it would.”

Truly, that is quite impressive, how those with creative minds can push a thought into reality. I hope to wear the design in front of enough students to showcase Mr Barrows’s talent.

As Mr Barrows is one of the more fashion-conscious individuals at Hogwarts, I asked him if he had any advice for those hopeful to improve. He did, and he recommended fashion magazines. “Find a style you like and just try it out,” he encouraged. “You can even play around with secondhand clothes if you have to. Mix and match, find what works and build a wardrobe.”

His most important piece of advice? “Just remember to keep it fresh. Don’t get locked into just one aesthetic or style. Your collection will eventually be outdated if you do.”

Of course, what would fashion be without a showcase?

“I would love to host a show,” Mr Barrows acknowledged. It would be a space for everyone to show off their fashion portfolios. “It would be nice to give those who want it a chance to express themselves through fashion in a meaningful way. We’d need models, materials, photographers and journalists. Lots to plan, but hopefully more details to come soon.”

I, for one, think that is incredibly exciting. I would encourage anyone interested in such an occurrence to stay tuned!


Rings of Power
by Xiomara Torres

Rings are a great statement piece of jewellery that can showcase your personality whilst not taking away from the outfit. They often go with the majority of outfit choices, so they can be worn anytime and anywhere - though, perhaps not if you plan on boxing. The magical world has so many rings that put the Muggle ones to shame.

Ring of Almost Warning: Worried about the dangers of a Hogwarts event? Get one of these and you can almost be safe as it will sense danger but not alert you until it has been resolved! At least you will know you avoided danger, I suppose? Naturally, this is sold at Zonko’s Joke Shop as it is more of a joke product than useful!

Spy Eye Ring: I have no idea how this works, but this ring has magic that makes the wearer’s eyeball come out of their socket, and yet is still usable. Just be careful not to drop it, as you will end up picking up all the dirt if it goes rolling or, worse, squish it. Supposedly sold at Borgin and Burkes.

Ring of Promises: This is a great ring for the older years who are in a relationship. The ring on it holds so long as you are fulfilling your promise; it is a great way to show your dedication to the relationship without being engaged to marry (since we are way too young for that, of course). Available at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.

Much Mustachio Ring: Potentially my favourite ring. It gives you facial hair that varies depending on which finger you wear it! An instant moustache or beard of your choice sounds pretty fun, no? If you need to change your appearance or look older, then a beard might help that! Sold at Zonko’s Joke Shop.

There are so many options out there, but if you ever want something personalised and handmade specifically for you, you could always ask a goblin to make you something. Goblin-made rings will hold the test of time, potentially becoming good family heirlooms.

You can, quite literally, have magic at your fingertips by wearing a magical ring! Some Muggle rings are also fun—you could get a mood ring that literally changes colour whilst on your finger. Of course, it works by using heat, but I would not be surprised if there was a magical version that actually told your mood out there. You can also get cool rings with different designs and shapes on them. Perhaps it is time to upgrade your collection to include different rings!

Rings are a great way to show off your personality and express yourself, even if it is a simple band. They can hold so much meaning, but you don’t have to wait for an engagement ring or a wedding ring—treat yourself to things that mean something to you.

Dress up your hand for any occasion!


Arcane Artefacts: Oculus Inventio
by Pericles Dralt

Despite the wix world's limited access to electricity, our inventors have found ways to weave magic into technology. Some of our most complex devices are those which enhance vision. Aside from stargazing, birdwatching, and navigating the outdoors, these tools are invaluable in the realm of sport, strategy, and improvement of daily life.

Omnioculars 4G 14S
Binoculars 1G 8S
Eagle Eye Goggles 4G 9S 10K

Found at Quality Quidditch Supplies of Diagon Alley, Omnioculars function like a combination of Muggle binoculars and camcorders. These are typically made from brass with settings adjusted by dials and knobs. They grant the user a powerfully magnified view with the capability to pause, rewind, and caption sporting action. Some models are programmed to offer their owner a labelled play-by-play during Quidditch matches, including the names of captured maneuvres. These have been utilised by referees to determine whether or not fouls have been committed. They have also been utilised in Duelling and Racing to analyse a team's play, allowing captains or players to evaluate and adjust their strategies. One could acquire a plain pair of binoculars from the same store for a fraction of the cost.

(Featured Fun Fact! On Omnioculars
"At the Quidditch World Cup, Ron Weasley made an old wizard pick his nose repeatedly using his Omnioculars.")

For night use, Dervish and Banges in Hogsmeade sell Eagle Eye Goggles. These function closer to regular binoculars, albeit with the ability to see in dark. These work by amplifying existing light, granting the wearer vision similar to that of a nocturnal animal, though they induce vertigo with prolonged use.

Magic Eye 35G
For those who have lost binocular vision, St Mungo's can supply a replacement Magic Eye. These come in two varieties: as an implant device or headgear. The first requires minor surgery, in which the socket is braced to hold an eye, which is commonly made of glass. Patients who prefer a less invasive model opt for a monocle-esque holder strapped around the head and worn similarly to an eyepatch. Specialised models are imbued with enchantments. The most famous example was the eye worn by Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, whose prosthetic eye was supposedly capable of seeing through almost anything—including invisibility cloaks and the back of his own skull. Hypothetically, the blind could replace both of their eyes with these devices.


The Magic of Journalling
by Xiomara Torres

When you put hundreds of growing students, aged eleven to eighteen, in one building, combined with the chaos of magic, you are bound to have some accidents and trouble. No one passes through the school without seeing something go wrong, which is only natural when you consider how most children entering the school do not know how to cast a single spell or brew a potion properly. If you’re anything like me, you will also struggle with those things for many months afterwards. As such, sometimes you have to look after yourself and do what is good for you.

I was inspired by the Autobiography of a Journal to start my own journal. It appears to be a book that records an entry on its own every day, which is so fascinating to read. The journal that I flicked through in Flourish and Blotts was mostly about sitting on a shelf, getting picked up by random people but then put down. I am pretty sure that if I went back now, I would see an entry from that day where the journal describes seeing me. It is definitely an interesting purchase if you want something to read!

However, today I wanted to talk about journalling. Many people find that keeping a journal can help them express their thoughts, and seeing this journal inspired me to start my own. Most days, I only write a few words, but I have found that it helps me to clear my mind, gather my thoughts, and know exactly what I want to do the next day. Rereading my journal the other day, I realised that I should write a letter to my mum and let her know how much I miss her whilst I am at Hogwarts—it also reminded me that Mother’s Day was coming up!

If you want to write something private, you could easily get a journal with a lock on it. Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop also sells fascinating ink and quills that are worth checking out. They have Everlasting Ink if you are looking for something that will stand the test of time and not fade—an archival ink, if you will. Alternatively, you could pick up some coloured ink to make your pages pretty without trying—like the Lilac Ink. My favourites are the Disappearing Ink from Scrivenshaft’s or the Invisible Ink from Zonko’s Joke Shop, both perfect for times you want to vent on paper but do not want to risk anyone reading it. If you hate writing but want a journal, get yourself a Quick-Quotes Quill, which will write anything dictated to it.

Really, there are no good excuses not to try keeping a diary and seeing if it works for you, with all of these incredible magical items around.

Journal away today.


Spilling Hogwarts's Secrets: Vol. 5
by Lady Audentia

Greetings, dear readers!

Today, instead of an agglomeration of awe-inspiring admissions, I offer you an exclusive exposé into the most astonishing affair of some of Hogwarts’s least fine.

If a student were to have been in the library during the evening of the 26^th of February, it would have been incredibly difficult to miss the slobber-filled snogging that occurred between a seventh-year Ravenclaw and a fourth-year Gryffindor. The Ravenclaw is hard to miss, despite her general lack of remarkable traits. One might note that she organised a series of protests after the incarceration of former professor Marcus Iwasaki. Having seen her, I would not exactly call her pretty, but she is definitely “out of the league”, as one might say, of Gryffindor Harlan Montgomery, who has been lusting after her like a licentious loser in the library.

That’s hardly to say that Mr Montgomery is unattractive. But that is absolutely not my point.

Let me start with the fact that Harlan is an adolescent rapscallion staring with saucer-wide eyes at someone who is about to graduate and likely holds at least twice the maturity he does. Truthfully–what individual with any sense of dignity lets their emotions tug them about like a puppet on a string? What tomfoolery!

In any case, it is not Mr Montgomery’s feelings that led me to write this article. It is the show that he put on for my hapless source. “Sloppy”, “desperate”, and “disgusting” were among the words utilised to properly describe Montgomery’s lacking finesse in the art of kissing. I was not there, having, of course, better things to do with my time; however, it is not difficult to imagine the churlish Mr Montgomery attempting to shove his tongue down Miss Prince’s throat.

Perhaps the more problematic phenomenon is that Miss Prince seemed to like it.

Now, I would never shame anyone for their preferences. Love is love, after all. However, one really ought to have standards. Furthermore, is it not a bit cruel to lead on such an idiotic knave, especially one so young when compared to Miss Prince herself? They say Ravenclaws embody wisdom, but it appears that Miss Prince is none the wiser when it comes to the etiquette of amours.

That is hardly all I have to say. Let me elaborate: Miss Prince has a boyfriend, and they are most certainly exclusive.

I, for one, hope her beau discovers the contents of this paper. He has a right to know the debauched deeds in which his hardly loyal girlfriend has been participating. Towering bookshelves and seemingly-silent studiers will hardly conceal the deed that was done; unbeknownst to Prince and Montgomery, apparently, people talk.

To Mr Montgomery: if you intend to be successful in future amorous endeavours, it would serve you well to refine your skills of osculation. Miss Prince may disregard your lack of expertise, but most other individuals will not.

To Miss Prince: I am not sure if you have heard of “loyalty”, but it is a trait you would benefit from researching and embodying. I do sincerely hope your (soon to be ex-) boyfriend comes to his senses.

To my most esteemed readers: I hope you have learned something valuable from this scintillating volume of Spilling Hogwarts’s Secrets!

Of course, I cannot stop here. Should any other treacherous deeds come to my attention, I shall have to report on them.

Observing the Lyrids Meteor Shower and the World’s Beautiful Imperfection
by Archer Duncan

Insomniac that I am, I found the announcement of the school wide all-nighter to be no rift in my schedule but an accommodation for my late nights. ‘Star-mapper’ that I aspire to be, my elation could only be imagined when word of the meteor shower reached my ears. I had observed such phenomena from rooftops and with one leg dangling over towers, with strangers and with those I have now lost, but never before had I sat and watched with people whom I can still deem to be friends. Truly, there is no greater miracle to man than watching the extraordinary, surrounded by the extraordinary.

We were rounded up after the end of classes, and like a marching army, we made our way across the grounds of Hogwarts. While I cannot speak for everyone—I heard plenty of complaints of the journey on the way, I thought the trekking was a part of the night’s beauty. Under a clear sky of stars, not yet falling, but full of wishes in their own right, I jested with friends, chatted with acquaintances, and above all, admired nature, both in the grandeur of the sky above, and the trivial details of everything below it, from the detail of the tree’s bark to the rushing sound of the streams, With mud caking the soles of my boots, it was not perfect, but it was all I could have asked for.

This beauty was quickly deemed one fitting for a postcard, but when I stopped and actually looked at the world around me, I saw the world for what it truly was, living, breathing, and flawed. Even the terrain of the plateau we eventually arrived on, proved that even the comforting cotton of the sleeping bags could not ward against the ground that carried grooves and ridges like scars. There was no second option when I chose a Muggle tent rather than an enchanted one. Not only was I more accustomed to that style of accommodation, but I felt it called to me with the promise of a closer connection to the nature beneath and around me. So, with my two good friends, perhaps unexpected names, E.Y. and G.d.L. (if you know them, you know them)—I settled into my sleeping bag, and prepared to witness the falling of stars, and the rising of a soul to join their ranks.

Although they did not capture my attention for long, I have noted down the four ateliers, and will report on them briefly: Elena Clark delivered a speech on the mechanics of shooting stars and the history of the meteor shower; Helen Aletheia Doukas regaled the crowd with grand myths and fantastical legends Kitty Townsend supervised and helped students with the bonfire, a heroic act in of itself; while Taros Quintero took over the administrative aspects and educated the assembled on the magic of the creatures roaming Hogwarts’ wilderness. Every detail was planned, and I certainly salute those who had poured effort into the event, but I just wanted to admire the night in its entirety. To view it not as a gathering but as a reckoning of the soul.

When the first meteor fell, of course, I made a wish. Like any other good child, I have long learnt to keep the wish secret, if I hope for it to come true, and I hope with every shred of my heart and tendon in my body. Then, came a flow of even more, and as I lost track, I stopped trying to hope for things I will never have, and instead just drowned myself into the beauty of the dropping stars—hope lighting up the sky even in the darkest of times. Hope, falling—not because it was lost, but because it ached to be closer to earth, where all the imperfect, yet perfect things lived.


Muggle Item of the Month - Aeroplanes: Broomless Aviation
by Matthew Campbell

For quite a while, the Headliner has been missing a once vital part of its core. But look no further folks, for as of this issue, ‘ Muggle Item of The Month’ has officially returned and I can assure you, dear readers, it's sure to be a doozy. As your resident and unapologetic Muggleborn, I strive to lend my expertise to you magical folk in the hope that we can tear down the walls of magic vs Muggle for good. But fret not, for this is not a campaign spiel but rather an exploration into the Muggle world in its very own, unique, magical ways.

So without further ado, let’s take to the skies! Whilst wizards and witches soar the endless blue by broom or carpet, Muggles must look to science to defy gravity; and how far they have flown from their discoveries! Advancements in aviation have not been quick. Practical successes began back in 1783 with the very humble manned hot air balloon, a contraption that uses heat and flame within an envelope of fabric to rise through the cooler, denser air. That is not to say that none before had tried. Famous inventors of history as early as the ninth century had been obsessed with the mimicking of flying creatures, though to no avail. It was Leonardo Da Vinci who concluded that humans would never be strong enough to operate their own mechanical flying machines and turned to sketching a device, one that would not see true success until centuries later. And progress did not stop as the 1800s saw the development and flight of airships lifted by helium and hydrogen.

Like with many powerful inventions of the Muggle world, war was a major catalyst for development. Those tough times required new machines, and the aeroplane was one such invention. Back in 1903, two brilliant American men called the Wright brothers managed to channel the many workings of history and current advances of science when they successfully achieved the first sustained, controlled flight of a machine that was heavier than air and still able to fly. It was a marvel of the age, and no wonder that it would quickly be turned into a tool for reconnaissance and combat. A sad plight in the Muggle world has seen many such miracles of science warped in aggressors hands, yet such is a topic for another day.

Rather, let us focus on some of the more heroic stories these mechanical birds were a part of. After the Muggles’ First World War, commercial flights opened the world to the masses, allowing them to travel hundreds or thousands of miles in a matter of days. Families were reunited, the post, unlike our owls, was sent via aeroplane, and tedious long voyages became a thing of the past. I would here be remiss to not mention one of the most celebrated pilots in history: Amelia Earhart. She was not only the first woman passenger to cross the Atlantic, but also the first female pilot to accomplish the same flight in 1932. She tragically, and most mysteriously, disappeared during her round-the-world flight in 1937. Taking to the skies has provided travel freedom and the power to bring cultures together that to this day allows Muggles to diversify their lives.

Still, Muggles, not having the resources to defy their limitations that the magical world has overcome, face terrible problems within aviation. Planes crash, go missing entirely, or are used for catastrophic events. While I could easily mortify you with the horrors of history, I instead want to focus on a rather specific item Muggles have invented that I believe to be a true feat of creation. It is known simply as the ‘black box’, despite its orange appearance, and whilst small, it is a very important machine. For this device is capable of surviving even the most harrowing of wrecks. Wrapped in titanium or steel, it can withstand catastrophic impacts, extreme heat, and even defy the pressures of the deep sea. But what is it for? I hear you ask, metaphorically. Well, the black box’s main purpose is to relay the information of what happened to the aeroplane. From diagnostics to the departed's dying words, it stores it all and keeps it safe so that the Muggle world may prevent such occurrences from happening again. A surviving time capsule of those final moments that provides, not only crucial data, but often closure in times of great despair.

So just imagine with me for a moment, readers, if Muggles' scientific genius could be combined with magical ingenuity, what might the world look like? Perhaps one day we may discover the answer to that very question. But for now, I wish you all a very happy return of M.I.O.M!


Appreciating Academia: What Hogwarts Students Really Think of their Classes
by Aly Salinger

This time of year in the common spaces, it’s not uncommon to overhear grumbles of frustration from one’s peers. “I hate History of Magic” is frequently heard, as is “Why does Transfiguration have to be so hard?” Exam season brings the worst in us, which made me wonder: if there are classes which are commonly loathed, is there a widespread favourite class, too?

A random sampling of 42 Hogwarts students, of all years/Houses, has helped me ascertain an answer. Of the twelve subjects taken at Hogwarts (eight core courses and four electives), Astronomy took a solid win for the overall favourite—I cannot complain, seeing how this is my favourite class as well! 21.4% of the sampled students agreed that nighttime stargazing made for their preferred period, with explanations ranging from the blasé “It’s the most tolerable one, no?” (first-year Hufflepuff Erast Yan) to the more poetic “The vast universe seems to contain countless secrets waiting to be discovered” (third-year Ravenclaw Cassie Jiang).

Of course, Astronomy is not without its enemies, though it only polled 7.1% of the negative responses. Second-years Graci Laren (Gryffindor) and Mirada Johnson (Ravenclaw) complained about its late hour. For that we suppose we cannot blame them. Sleep is important!

For the least loved lessons, we found a tie! Transfiguration and Flying came in joint first place (or last place, depending on your viewpoint) with a stunning 21.4% each of responses for least favourite class, though for very different reasons.

First-year Slytherin Milica Vranekova called Transfiguration “Too difficult”, adding, “Not that it’s any of your business”. (Pro tip: don’t agree to an interview, then!) Overall, respondents agreed that Transfiguration was mostly disliked due to challenging coursework; however, first-year Gryffindor Pyce Rotanski seemed to hold no hard feelings against the class’s professor. “Love the Transfiguration professor”, said Rotanski, “but I'm even worse at performing the spells than in Charms, so it ranks as my least favorite class”.

Not everyone shares these feelings, however, with 9.5% of the participants stating that Transfiguration is their best course. But why? “The intrigue of magical manifestation”, claimed seventh-year Ravenclaw Pericles Dralt, whilst second-year Hufflepuff Mamori Anezaki and fourth-year Slytherin Mahlioz Evethisawe agreed that the subject was the most logical of those offered at Hogwarts. (Anezaki also added that “Professor Kāne is hot”, but we’re not sure that should count towards enjoyment of a class, especially since he recently left Hogwarts.)

Flying, on the other hand, polled badly. Not for its difficulty, but apparently for a schoolwide fear of heights and dislike of sports. Slytherin first-year Angel Dayes and the aforementioned Evethisawe cited acrophobia, and a hatred of sporting classes was shared by first-year Ravenclaws Robin Lockett and Corrine Aelina. Other students had more… vitriolic opinions about Flying. First-year Slytherin and former Headliner secretary Livia Machavariani quipped, “It is hardly my fault if those who like the class cannot read”.

Ouch! The 9.5% of students who listed Flying as their most beloved course might have something to say about that. Vranekova and her fellow first-years Dido Bleaklane (Slytherin) and Skylar Blue (Ravenclaw) all agreed upon the freeing sensation of being up in the air as being their reason for the favouritism, and as a Quidditch player myself, I can’t help but agree.

Other answers abounded in both the favourite and least favourite categories, so we can hardly claim to have uncovered a Hogwarts-wide conspiracy for or against any one class. Charms came in second place for the most-loved with 14.3% of voters, with second-year Hufflepuff Ellie Randensmith claiming, “The lessons are interactive and the professor always has really great lessons planned”. Other than the tied first-place least favourites, however, History of Magic pulled in a stunning 19% of votes for least liked; Laasya Manjunath (first-year Gryffindor) and the aforementioned Blue both called the subject ‘boring’, while third-year Gryffindor Sere Nade simply shivered and told us, “I hate memorising”.

One may notice in the diagrammes few votes for the electives: Care of Magical Creatures, Study of Ancient Runes, Divination, and Muggle Studies. Third-year students and above were also polled on chosen electives, and of the 10 respondents, Creatures and Runes tied for most-taken with 80% each. Muggle Studies was the least favourite with only 40%. Jiang takes all four, stating that her childhood dream is to “get Os in every single one of them”—twelve classes is a heavy workload, so good luck! Others had more practical responses for their reasoning, with Dralt and third-year Slytherin Elisa Wagner referencing their hopeful future careers, and Evethisawe calling Runes “a secret code plus magic”.

From all this research, one thing is clear: no two Hogwarts students have the same thoughts on their courses, and isn’t that a good thing?


Which Professors You Should Really Pay Attention To
by Alyss Gilmour

My dear fellow students of Hogwarts, have you ever wondered why particular professors just strike you as… odd? I certainly have! Why do some have an aura of unease, or even of uncomfortable happiness? Do you feel compelled to pay attention when in their class, or do you fear the worst from them? Well, today I aim to assist you in figuring out which of your professors’ good side it’s best to stay on.

To start off, we have our lovely, talented, and kind nurse. According to an anonymous source, “Elmo told me he kissed a certain nurse at one point during his time here at Hogwarts for good luck, and that if he didn't, she wouldn't have had a good day.” Oh my! It seems Ms. Nancy McLoughlin has been getting frisky with our controversial History of Magic professor at the beginning of this school year. Perhaps mind your tongue when speaking in the Hospital Wing about anything involving love affairs… you wouldn’t want to upset our dear nurse! Our former Herbology Professor McLoughlin has been a constant, steady figure while at Hogwarts. The news of a possible love affair with Mr. Elmo Break is certainly a surprise—it may be wise to keep a close eye on the Hogwarts Nurse the next time you visit, that’s for sure.

Next, although this may surprise many, you need to watch yourself when around our new Potions professor. The former Head of House Slytherin, Professor Lesmana Asmaralaya, has had multiple conversations behind closed doors—one source says “Something weird can be heard inside his office. I believe it's something behind the mysterious door.” You heard that right! If I were a student in one of his classes (yes, that is to say every single student at Hogwarts), I would stay as far away from that mysterious office as possible. It’s said that the professor is constantly scheming, finding something to do. Among the halls of Hogwarts, it’s rumored that “he was kicked out and then rehired to Hogwarts because he had some connections and blackmail to come back, even after his scheming was discovered.” Yes, this means that our former Head of House Slytherin has something dark about him. Watch your step when in the Potions classroom. You never know what he may have up his sleeve.

The plot thickens as our brand new Transfiguration Professor, the stoic Kasem Wattana, has already found himself a talking point at this teaching job. Students, I warn you: don’t get on his bad side. While many of our staff members are powerful wix, it sounds as though Professor Wattana wouldn’t hesitate to turn his frustration onto his students—or even his own kin! An anonymous source says: “If he doesn’t like you, you’ll get transfigured into a piece of furniture—on purpose! Apparently, he did that to his brother.” Although on further investigation, I cannot find any account of a sibling, perhaps that is the root of this story… One thing is clear, be very careful around your newest Transfiguration professor. After all, we all have certain priorities, and they do not involve becoming a piece of furniture to decorate Professor Wattana’s office.

Have you ever felt a strange happiness as you enter the Charms classroom, in the presence of Professor Katherine Townsend? As if you were having a no good, very bad day prior to entering, and suddenly that feeling dissipates, replaced by a willingness to listen and learn? Well, perhaps you need to look at the professor in order to understand why this is occurring. Professor Townsend was a strong curse breaker before she entered Hogwarts. The ongoing theory is this: “The reason you feel happy around her is because she’s constantly casting a cheering charm when in the presence of her students.” While this may seem rather convoluted, I highly recommend paying closer attention to your emotions before and after you enter her classroom—are you under a particular spell?

Under a different vein, it’s said that Professor Townsend has also been cursed. Not in the traditional way—no bad luck or unforgivable curses. Rather, it is something you may notice by studying her wardrobe. She only ever wears bright colors! A rumor floating the halls says that “she was cursed to only wear bright colors by [NAME REDACTED].” Fashion sense may explain it, but only to a certain extent. Have you ever seen our beloved Charms professor without a piece of brightly colored clothing to back up her enthusiastic smile? Think it over… the person who cursed her may curse again.

I hope this was helpful to the students of Hogwarts. Now that you know which of our professors may be scheming against us, certainly keep this information in mind during your next lesson.


The Department of Temporarily Misplaced Things
by Simon Kincaid

Go halfway down the secondary corridor near the Great Hall, and you’ll find a broom cupboard that sits between two identical doors. Students often pass it by without realising; the space has been long forgotten, just like the items held inside. This is the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s Lost and Found.

Upon passing, experienced students will often offer similar advice: “Don’t go too far in. If you find your things, then take them and leave. If you don’t see them quickly, they’re not near the front anymore.” It is said with a seriousness that suggests danger, as if Hogwarts would have a dangerous cupboard next to a corridor students use every day. That would be ridiculous.

Inside, behind plain wooden doors that smell faintly of polish, sconces flicker to life along shelves that extend far deeper than the cupboard should reasonably allow. The front shelves hold all the items you might find in an educational setting, magical or not: broken quills, battered quills, normal and perfectly usable quills, house scarves, school robes, dried ink pots, and some water bottles and snack tins.

Going further, the ordinary becomes overlooked. Books began to appear in stacks, seeming deliberate, not accidental, occasionally interrupted by stray copies of Witch Weekly, Enchanted Enchantments magazine, or Transfiguration Today. They seem to accumulate rather than collect, as though drawn together by habit.

Deeper still, the objects stop behaving like lost property. An incomplete deck of tarot cards lies scattered in a spread, slightly warm to the touch. Several teapots sit side-by-side, charmed to serve tea into neatly colour-coded cups. Haircare potions and pins shine in the small available light, and a few cloaks shift as if adjusting their own hems. These items feel paused in mid-use rather than abandoned.

At the very back of the cupboard, where the shelves meet the wall and the light from the sconces barely reaches, the sense of ownership disappears entirely. This is where things go when they are no longer waiting to be reclaimed. From here, I retrieved several items and placed them into my satchel for closer inspection.

The first was a cast iron chess piece wrapped in cloth, and secured with a note that read: “for everyone’s safety.” It was a rook who refuses to behave as any reasonable chess piece should. It does not consistently obey the rules nor does it accept loss. In play, it shifts unpredictably as if the concept of turns is optional, insults its opponents under its breath, and reacts to a check as though personally offended. It is unsuited for any standard game of wizards’ chess.

A small music box sat beside it. At first glance, it appeared broken, silent even when wound. I attempted to repair it, adjusting its mechanism and testing its internal springs, but nothing happened. Only when I turned away did faint music begin. The effect repeated after many trials: it plays only when unobserved.

There was a handheld clock, its face shifting into phrases instead of hours and minutes. It offered phrases like “already late”, “very late”, and “why are you like this?”, and was reminiscent of the Muggle children’s toy called the Magic 8 Ball.

One object nearly overlooked was an old metal spoon. It looked entirely ordinary, but being at the back of the Lost and Found was reason enough to be suspicious of it. I used it at supper in the Great Hall after cleaning it thoroughly. The spoon seemed to taste the food before I did. It reacted with unmistakable enthusiasm to roast chicken and Yorkshire pudding and nearly sang at the treacle tart, but sighed miserably at the pickled eel.

The last item was a golden compass. Unlike ordinary compasses, it does not point north. It points to desire. When first tested, it led me directly to my pet Rascal who had wandered off that morning. Later, it indicated my missing History of Magic essay. After that, the needle settled in a consistent direction throughout the day: toward AngelFyre McCubbin. This, I suspect, is not accidental. If the compass truly responds to desire, then there was never much mystery in it at all; of course it would point there.

I debated whether or not I should return this item back to the Lost and Found, and it seems to have no reservations in staying with me. Perhaps it too just wants to claim what it desires: to be found.

The Lost and Found is not simply a storage place for lost items. The deeper one goes, the less the objects resemble misplacements and seem to be waiting—either for the right person, the right moment, or the right excuse to become meaningful again. Nothing at Hogwarts is ever truly lost, only deferred.


The Room of Requirement Has Been Required
by Archer Duncan

On the fifth floor is a location not known to every eye, a secret not present in every passersby’s mental catalogue, a door that only opens for one who truly needs it. I, for one, have needed it more than I care to admit, for reasons from the most trivial to the most profound. There are instances, from my personal experience, in this space lovingly called the ‘Room of Requirement’ that have been particularly charming, others almost harrowing.

1. A room of pillows: I do not jest. After an exhausting afternoon spent more on the duelling piste than in the comforts of my dormitory like a crazed maniac, I was embracing lunacy enough to head upstairs rather than down, and it was then that I came across a calling from an unassuming oak door. In curiosity, I opened it ajar, and as I saw a room cushioned floor-to-ceiling, with a giant teddy bear for good measure, I could not help but feed my indulgent side. Eventually, I found myself falling asleep in a corner, waking the next morning to grogginess, yet weekend contentment.
2. A mirror: Any more and they would rival the halls of Versailles. I find that teenagers fall on not a spectrum but two polar opposites, as it is with most things teenagers do. Either they are beauty-obsessed or body-dysmorphic. I say this as if I do not fall into one of the two categories, but secretly, I teeter between these two lanes, treading on a fine line of a tightrope. I had grown to trust the contents of the room, so one would imagine the jumpscare I received when I opened the door to find my own eyes staring back at me. I think later that day, someone told me I had a piece of broccoli between my teeth. Rude.
3. Maps, and a plethora of other things she liked: Maps, and a plethora of other things she liked: I pondered for a long time about whether or not to include this entry, but I am half-hoping that my editor will remove it. Cartography was her passion, and it is especially the maps with carved-in ridges for mountains and grooves for rivers that will remind me of her. Golden apples on the tabletop. Cullen skink in the bowls. I did not eat any of it, only admired them from a distance, before closing the door hard and leaving. Some things may be too painful for the time being, yet they are still things that I needed to see.
4. Blackness: Pure, complete blackness. Oftentimes, the world proves itself to be too much for my mind—from the hollering of voices to the bedazzling of lights. Even when none are directed at me, overstimulation tends to occur post-prolonged exposure. Sheer darkness and noiselessness, therefore, it is not a curse of loneliness but a blessing. After a day battered by the elements of the world, there is nothing more I wish to do than stand solely with my own company.
5. Cat food for Zeno. A staple in this house, but I ran out again and forgot to buy some.

Be on the lookout for a plain, old door the next time you happen to be on the fifth floor. If you actually need it, you will find yourself pushing it open, and inside will be a whole new world that awaits you.


Quidditch Captains: The Next Generation
by Aly Salinger

Within the last year, fans of Hogwarts’ best sport (no competition) have seen five young captains rise to the top. While Gryffindor’s Pax Zhang (Y5) and Ethan Smith (Y4) have stayed steady, and you can’t rip my Ravenclaw captaincy from me until I graduate, the other leadership positions have changed since last summer. Let’s meet these new captains, shall we?

Aston Beckett (Y3)
Beckett joined me in Ravenclaw leadership after Lavinia Cloven graduated. Calling his age (13) a weakness and stating he “lacked the experience most others already have”, Aston immediately made his mark as a capable strategist and strong leader.

Beckett might feel behind but he’s got incentive. “I've been interested in becoming a pro Quidditch player for a while now”, he told us, “and this feels like a natural step to take”. He called strategising his favourite part of the job: “Quidditch can be such a complicated game so it's very fun talking about options in a match”.

Charlotte Winfield (Y3) & Cecilia Merrick (Y1)
Slytherin’s double-C dream team took their positions following the resignations of Livia Machavariani and Prat Pass in the late fall. Winfield and Merrick shared similarities in their interviews, such as passion backing their captaincies. They disagreed on how to view their youth, with Winfield classifying it as a weakness (“There are years of experience that I do not have due to my age”) and Merrick as a strength (“I expect to be underestimated because of my age. However, such prejudices from my opponents will only make them lax… and when they do, we shall strike”).

Merrick told us her favourite part of being captain: “watching my team's efforts pay off on the pitch!” She is still waitlisted for Chaser, whilst first-string Keeper Winfield preferred strategising, calling it “an interesting change of pace”.

Mamori Anezaki (Y2)
Anezaki took Hufflepuff’s second captain spot in February, but quickly moved up to senior with the retirement of Lea Hirsch. A Chaser since March 2025, Anezaki may be new, but he doesn’t see it as a weakness, quipping, “There are first-years captaining teams right now, by any metric I am something of a middle act”. Hufflepuff’s senior captain seems something of a jokester!

He was dead serious, however, describing his rise to captaincy: “The pay!” Anezaki treated his favourite part of being a captain with equal gravity: “Calling a play live and watching the other team eat dirt.” Ouch!

Harumi Everdane (Y1)
Named Hufflepuff’s newest captain in early May, Everdane gave us her hopes for what will make her a good captain. “I want to listen to my team and accept their ideas”, she said. “Captaincy is about being a good leader more than anything”. Wise words for one so young!

Everdane declared her intentions as: “proving myself to the team, as well as helping Hufflepuff win, obviously!” Though this young lass is still waitlisted, we hope to see her on the pitch soon.

Excluding Everdane, the new captains outlined (somewhat secretive) plans for their teams:

Beckett : “More than anything I want this to be a successful year for Ravenclaw; it's the final year for my fellow captain before her graduation”.

Winfield : “Mine and Cecilia's understanding of the game will be paramount in developing our strategic strength”.

Merrick : “I will ensure the Cloud Cobras never suffer a similar fate as last season, bolster the team's confidence and ensure we triumph over our opponents”.

Anezaki : “The plan is to be less polite about eliminations. We're aiming for three players down per round”.


Opinion: Racing is the Best Sport
by Alyss Gilmour

Throughout Hogwarts, there seems to be a love for sports. Whether for house spirit or a hunger for winning itself, Quidditch, duelling, and broom racing always have a full roster and packed stands for every match. But a question that many have debated and that I will happily answer is the following: which is the best sport? The answer: broom racing.

As a broom racing captain, I can admit I may be biased. However, this is an opinion piece. Racing is, therefore, the best sport within Hogwarts for three reasons:

1. The use of potions!
2. The use of both spells and brooms!
3. The community!

I’ll start with number one—the use of potions while on the track. Broom racing is the only sport at Hogwarts that allows potions to be used. The option of over 25 potions for the racers during the match can play a pivotal role in the outcome of a race. This also means that if you’re a student that has an ‘O’ in Potions, you would be welcomed onto a broom racing roster. These skills cannot be utilized in either Quidditch nor duelling. So if you want to spend some time competing for your house but you find your potioneering skills to be a talent tossed to the side, talk to your house’s captains! I’m sure they would be happy to have you.

Number two—the spells and brooms! As I’m sure you’re all aware, duelling is incredibly spell-focused. The entire match revolves around your ability to cast a spell quickly, accurately, and brutally. You have to become a master at using your wand reliably while being a target for spells yourself! In Quidditch, brooms are the heavy hitter, the determining factor being how well you can do your job on your broom. Racing combines both of these concepts into one brilliant sport. Not only can you use your broom while racing, but you can also cast spells! If you’re an incredible caster, you could be an asset to your broom racing team—but that’s only if you can manage them while flying quickly on a broom, with both your opposition and the very environment around you trying to knock you off of said broom. If you’re talented on a broom, believe me, racing is perfect for you. Fitting a wide variety of people, the biggest requirement is simply being able to ride a broom reliably.

Last but not least—the community! While I have only been part of broom racing for about a year, I have never been happier. The team is full of well-rounded, trustworthy people that you have to look in the eyes and entrust with the fate of your team as you alley-oop them closer to the finish. Although you certainly end up sopping wet and muddy after falling through a waterfall or dancing uncontrollably whilst frantically clutching your broom, the people that not only have lived through the very same experiences, but have thrived through those very same experiences, make everything worth it.


To Be A Fly On The Wall
by Matthew Campbell

From as young as I can remember, people have called me an observer. From some, it was an insult, an insinuation that I would rather sit back and watch than get involved; from others, the word was draped in pity, a sorrow regarding me for not fitting in. Still, I have taken neither the word nor the act to indicate such. Perhaps the world sometimes moves too fast, but to my mind, at least, that gives me all the more reason to sit every once in a while and watch it. To perceive the most miniscule details that others miss and immerse myself in what the world truly is meant to be; an experience. So if this article inspires you to take a step back, do not hesitate or writhe in self-doubt, but embrace those small moments. The ones overlooked, for you never know what you might discover.

After all, when I chose to observe, I never would have believed I’d discover one of Hogwarts’s most wholesome communities. Stumbling upon an act of selflessness was the true factor that reminded me of the breadth of good we are capable of. Speaking with the founder of ‘Hogwarts Volunteer Club’, Cassie Jiang, was not a planned event. I did not originally intend to write on it. But when presented with such dedication and passion for something so small it felt only right. If you’re anything like myself, my main question for the members was what drove them to volunteer, and Cassie herself gave a most beautiful response: “These are all tiny acts, but we love lending a hand in those unnoticed corners of the castle… We do this not for attention or praise, but just out of love for our school”.

The hedonistic approach would have had me questioning had I not seen the great depth of work this group performed. Meeting once a month, they selflessly perform many tasks that, while small, cause large ripples, and when things get tedious, Jiang herself prepares games to liven up the chore like hiding keys to a treasure when they cleaned up the owlery. The part goblin has even admitted to making badges for herself in her efforts, a kindness to herself most assuredly.

Surely a group as kindhearted as this couldn’t all be so generous, one might declare. Well, I would, in fact, be proven wrong in such an assumption. Group deputy Zephyr Deakin states, “It gives me purpose. I don’t think helping has to be something big to matter. I have learned that even doing simple work can make a huge difference”. A sentiment reinforced by Sabrina Lyons and Ezra Calloway who say, “It shows that people care, that they are willing to do the right thing without reward”, and “Even if you don't get appreciated, it's still a nice thing to do. I feel like we need more good in the world, you know?”

In fact each and every member has their own reasons for joining, whether it be Mikaela Hendricks who joined to “leave her mark on Hogwarts”, or Laverne Taylor who views the club as a rewarding social activity, embracing the anonymity. Marcella di Angelo even states that she hopes “to reduce, if not a lot, at least a little portion of the elves' work.” A most noble SPEW cause indeed.

A club with a foundation no greater, no less, than support. These students prove that when you take the time to notice, there are everyday miracles happening all around. So consider joining them by speaking with Cassie and make our world that little bit brighter.


A Guide in the Dark: Light
by Harumi Everdane

Have you ever tried to find something, but couldn't because it was too dark? A basic problem with a basic solution: turn on the light!

The International Day of Light occurs on May 16th of every year, on the anniversary of the first successful laser operation that occurred in 1960.

So, what's a laser? Well, they don't cover that in Hogwarts’ curriculum, do they? It’s highly concentrated light that can reach far distances. One could compare it to Lumos Duo, although it's not exactly the same. However, this article isn't about lasers.

So, why are we discussing Muggle technology, then? Well, the International Day of Light aims to appreciate all the amazing things we can do because of the existence of light, and while it focuses primarily on light’s relation to Muggle science, in this article we're going to discuss it from our very own magical perspective!

Obviously, you can't see without light (hope that's not new information). That's why we, as wizards, developed the wand lighting charm, “Lumos!” This spell is used daily to guide us through the dark. Obviously, that's not the only thing light is important for.

What's light, anyway, but a tool to ward off darkness, and dark creatures by extension? It's our guide through a world where darkness rules, and without it we'll lose our way.

What would you have done without Lumos Duo to solidify that annoying little Hinkypunk? Or normal Lumos, to chase away that scary Gytrash? Those are all variations of light, right? Even the Red Sparks and Green Sparks charms are light-based! What would we do without those, when they’re how we call for help and even attack?

Still not convinced of light's importance? I've got more! Plants can't survive without sunlight for photosynthesis, and no plants means no potions, which means you can't brew Pompion Potion! How are you going to find a neat costume for Halloween? What a shame.

Well, Pompion Potion isn't exactly the most important potion we'd be unable to make. Wolfsbane, Pepperup Potion, Herbicide, Dreamless Sleep Potion, Wound-Cleaning Potion, and many more would be lost. All potions need plants and herbs one way or another, and without the light of the sun, we wouldn’t have them! Imagine the chaos when a heavily depended-on potion, like Wolfsbane or Pepperup Potion, is no longer an option!

Muggles have come to this conclusion as well. Believe it or not, they're just as smart as us. A lot of Muggle science depends on light. They consider its speed. Yeah, light has speed! A constant that you can build physics laws around. Don't ask how that works; just be glad you don't have to study physics instead of astronomy. Believe me, even Muggles barely know how physics works.

Now are you convinced? If not, just wear a blindfold and walk around. That ought to make you appreciate having light. Maybe I should have made this argument from the beginning, instead of telling you about Muggle science.


The Delicate Art of Crafting Beetle Earrings and Gift Giving
by Archer Duncan

One man’s trash is another one’s treasure.
One creature’s death is another creature’s life.

An avid collector of beetles and an erudite observer of their behaviour, I have the confidence to deem myself a Coleoptera connoisseur, and while most of my specimens remain in my case, proudly on display as the centrepiece of my dormitory, a rare few—and the especially beautiful ones—serve a different purpose. I select the ones with the most vivid of colours, and a size just perfect enough to become wearable atop someone's ears. Someone, dear to your heart, to wear the body of another.

Practically, the steps are simple to follow. First, one must prepare one’s beetle. Ensure your beetle is dried. Some may enjoy their beetles intact, but the legs are brittle, and the head interrupts the dome shape of the body, so some may opt to remove these parts. One can replace them with gold, or jewels. I personally enjoy the former for the legs and the latter for the head; other adornments, though, are also welcome. Second, glue one’s beetle, now prepared, to the bezel cup—any standard jewellery glue will do for this step. Third, connect the bezel to the earring’s hook. A jump ring can be used, as long as it is securely closed. Finally, brush clear resin or varnish over the beetle. This is meant to serve as protection and to prevent the skin from chipping. It is highly important that resin or varnish is applied thoroughly and cleanly.

If you wish to lay your hands on some quality supplies for your beetle earring-making endeavours, I am always willing to sell duplicates from my collection at a reasonable price.

Of much greater importance, however, is the heart behind the action. Beetle earrings are not just the product of pouring out effort through crafting, but the exchange of the energy that flows through lifeforms. I have never been much of a gift-giver, solely because I thought the transaction of material objects was trivial and meaningless. Yet when I first came across the idea of beetle earrings, it immediately followed me throughout my day—not only because I can make something with my hands to show my appreciation, but because it meant the transcendence of one being’s life into another, fuelling another’s day even after their death. It is why I always source my beetles ethically, and give them meaning after their natural passing.

Do not give gifts rashly; this goes both ways. Do not choose a recipient without thought, and do not choose a present without meaning. There is a sacred ritual in the act of gift-giving, one that cannot be replaced by calculations of material wealth.

While it may be commonplace to offer trinkets upon meeting, farewell, birthdays, or events, there is no point outside of socially imposed norms we are forced to accept to deliver to people who do not deserve them. While presents small in scale—earrings, keychains, and the like—do not make them any less important, mass-produced, or gifts that do not carry stories and heart behind them, are worse than no gifts at all. They are an excuse. Pin down your choices wisely—an action too widespread among people, and an action too devoid of personal significance will lose meaning.

So, to whoever receives my next creation, know that you occupy a special place in my heart.


Magical & Muggle Meals: Cauldron Cakes
by Aly Salinger

Anyone in their third year or older remembers fondly the experience of walking into Honeydukes for the first time. From the brilliantly painted pastel green exterior and displays of dancing candyfloss in the windows, to the brightly coloured boxes lining each wall all the way to the ceiling, the gentle smell of sugar in the air, and the mechanical face of Caractacus the Candy Conjurer just inside the door to greet you, it’s a wonderful experience from the moment you step indoors.

Getting further into the shop you’ll find a tasty display of Fizzing Whizzbees that’ll have you floating on air, a magical Doxy Floss maker spinning a humongous spiral of candy-floss, and the bowl of Elephant-on-a-Bicycle candies that… well, I’ll let you taste those yourselves and find out! Whether it’s your first time at Honeydukes or your thirty-seventh, this place never gets old, with its sweet delicacies and rainbow posters.

The poster for Mrs. Qizilbash’s Cauldron Cakes boasting ‘Quality Confectionery’, found near the counter, has always fascinated me. As the plump Mrs. Qizilbash stares down her competition—the redheaded siren on the poster selling Alihotsy Fudge—she uses her wand to conjure, from a bubbling cauldron, a vanilla delicacy. I’ve always loved this poster and how delectable the cauldron cake looks even on paper, although I must admit I’m partial to the chocolate ones. Though Cauldron Cakes are found at any magical bakery or sweets-shoppe worldwide, you can also make them yourself!


Ingredients for cakes:

• 12 miniature cauldrons (*cupcake tin)
• 1 ½ cups Wizarding Wheat Self-Charmed Flour (*all-purpose flour)
• 1 cup sugar from a Sugar Shrub (*granulated white sugar)
• 1 cup dragon buttermilk (*cow buttermilk)
• ⅓ cup unsweetened dark cocoa powder
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar
• ⅓ cup vegetable oil
• 1 occamy egg (*chicken egg)
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Ingredients for icing:

• 1 package instant vanilla pudding mix
• 2 cups cold dragon milk (*cow milk)
• Green food colouring
• Edible pearls

*Muggle alternative.

Directions:

1. Set your oven to pre-heat at regulo 3 (175°C / 350°F) and, if you are utilising a Muggle cupcake tin, line your dozen holes with parchment cupcake linings.
2. In a larger mixing cauldron, whisk together your flour, sugar, cocoa powder, salt, and baking soda. Ensure that the mixture is properly homogenous and that there are no clumps.
3. In a second mixing cauldron, thoroughly whisk together your buttermilk, oil, egg, vanilla extract, and vinegar.
4. Whisk together the contents of the two cauldrons until thin and loose, without any dry clumps. Divide the newly-mixed batter into twelve portions amongst your miniature cauldrons (*lined cupcake tin).
5. Bake for around 20 minutes until your wandtip, when inserted into the centre of one cake, comes out clean, perhaps with a few small crumbs. Remove cakes from oven and allow to cool to room temperature.
6. Meanwhile, in a third mixing cauldron, whisk together instant pudding mix, milk, and a few drops of your food colouring. Continue whisking for about 2 minutes, then allow to set in a cold place (icebox recommended) for at least 5 minutes.
7. When your cakes have cooled, carve out a well in the centre of each cake with a small spoon, allowing for a ridge surrounding the well. Spoon cooled green pudding mixture into each well. You can overfill these a little to achieve that perfect green Cauldron Cake look with their messy tops! Top with edible pearls.
8. Serve chilled and, as always, try to eat neatly—though we all know that getting a bit of green on your clothes is part of the fun with Cauldron Cakes!