Confessions of a Professional Prankster
by Fern Davant, Gryffindor

Pranks are a beautiful thing that not many people might have a lot of experience with. I just came to that realisation the other day, and as such I have decided to offer you, my adoring public, a chance to get an inside look into the inner workings of the prankster community, and in particular, the ingenious mind of moi.

This month's particular exploit is a trick that can only be called "Operation: DON'T YOU DARE CARVE ME!" You see, this daring exploit all hinges around the fact that muggles and wizards alike are helpless against traditions such as pumpkin carving. FOOLS! I have taken advantage of this by promptly stealing some pouches of the "Living Objects" charm from the Assembly of Charms classroom.

You see, for a prankster stealing is never immoral; rather, it is a moral obligation! You simply waltz into a classroom in a smoke screen of dungbombs and bulbadox itching powder and then walk out with your charm pouches and Prof. Liv's Corned Beef Sandwich. (Alas, it tasted a bit off, but what're you gonna do? Professors, and their not being able to cook or even make a sandwich.)

Sustenance and supplies in hand, the next step in my endeavour was to steal the pumpkins used to decorate the Great Hall. This was a bit harder, as I had to squeeze myself into wardrobes, hide behind pillars, and shapeshift into storage cabinets, all to catch a glimpse of Professorly gossip. Finally, in a storage cupboard where my nose was stuffed far too near to lizard gills, and with a jar of eyeballs digging into my back, I overhead two Professors - Pat casually discussing the Halloween decorations with a Professor whose identity is undetermined because all I could see was the top of their head.

"Oh yes, the decorations look splendid," Pat gushed, "particularly the pumpkins; the house elves in the kitchens are looking after them."

After waiting for both Professors to clear the room I scurried out of the room and down to the kitchens where I held up the house elves at wand point, a pair of pantyhose covering my identity. Here is an accurate account of the situation:

"HAND ME YOUR PUMPKINS AND NO ONE GETS HURT!"

"Oh, yes Mistress Fern, most certainly," said one rosy-cheeked house elf.

"I'm not Fern, I AM YOUR DOOM," I replied.

"Yes, yes of course," Oggy, one of the house elves, chortled, stuffing bags full of pumpkins and handing them to me.

As you can see they were terrified.

Pumpkins obtained, I had to find a place to hide them, which is where I turned to a Gryffindor prefect friend of mine, Rai.

"OH PLEASE RAI? JUST LET ME USE THE PREFECTS BATHROOM TO HIDE ONE STOCK OF CONTRABAND PUMPKINS?" I begged; in fact, I pleaaaaaaaaaded.

"No," Rai said, remaining constant in her refusal.

After a few empty threats, I decided to simply store them out in the Forbidden Forest, where a cluster of pumpkins would not arouse any suspicions. I sprinkled the pouches of powder upon their purple plumage (ok, the plumage wasn't purple, it was leafy green, but I was on a roll with the alliteration thing, and I couldn't break it then), and then steadfastly awaited the approach of Halloween.

Soon, there became quite a ruckus in the school. The pumpkins had been stolen, and presumably killed, that is to say, splatted. As the professors hurriedly sacked the school with their searching, I sat back, at ease because no one was anywhere near the Forbidden Forest.

The day before the Halloween feast, I woke up five hours early, creeping around stealthily in the middle of the night, trying to put the pumpkins in appropriate places, and hoping that they wouldn't make too much noise. For you see, now the pumpkins were talking pumpkins, and even sometimes walking (or scooting) pumpkins.

When everyone got into the Great Hall that morning, I sleepily noted them being accosted by pumpkins. Sure that this was a success, I asked a fellow student what she thought of this prank.

"Oh, the Headmaster has truly outdone himself this year," she gushed, "I mean at first I was so sure the pumpkins were really gone, but now I see that he was just building our anticipation for this!"

HEADMASTER?! The HEADMASTER was getting credit for my trick? Alas, I'm so underappreciated.