Ratings/Warnings: Humour, songfic, PG-13, Rita Skeeter. (Come on, you KNOW what she's like!) Spoilers for all four books, probably.

Disclaimers: I do not own the Harry Potter universe nor any of its characters (life sucks, huh?) nor do I own Weird Al Yankovic's song "Jerry Springer", of which this is an adaptation. Hmm. A parody of a fictional character, written in songfic form using an adaptation of a song that's a parody of another song. I'm one really messed up Raven, aren't I? (Don't dare even TRY to answer that question - and yes I mean you, you know who you are.)

Information: Song lyrics are in italics, Rita's article is written in bold text, and the editor's blurb is in normal text.

Enjoy! (Or not.)

Dear Witch Weekly readers:

Well, your votes are in and they speak for themselves! Witch Weekly is proud to present the tenth anniversary article to the day of her first piece in print, that fair bastion of free speech, Rita Skeeter! Many of you faithful readers out there will already be familiar with Ms Skeeter's vital role in exposing shocking secrets that the Powers That Be would prefer the wizarding community to remain in ignorance of. Many marital infidelities, clandestine affairs and even incestual relationships have been brought to light under Ms Skeeter's powerful quill, not to mention the use of magic in under-trained or merely inept hands to settle illicit cravings or create sexual titillation, experiments that have gone horribly wrong, with tragic results. Even people who have managed to live a lie for many years, successfully fooling even their spouses, are no match for Ms Skeeter's passionate devotion to the truth.

And today, to celebrate the earlier-mentioned tenth anniversary, we present an entire edition devoted to the journalist that you, our readers, have voted as your favourite time and time again. Sit back, and relax with a nice cup of tea, and enjoy Rita's stunning revelations! Her article begins...

It's been one week since we got to see
Cheating lovers and cousins that marry,
Five days since they had the show
With the hermaphrodite, the slut and the crack ho,
Three days since we heard the tale
About the guy who learned his woman was a she-male,
Yesterday it occurred to me
That I've been reading a bit too much Rita Skeeter

Hello, my fair and faithful readers! This reporter's first set of interviews took place in the Weasley household. Appearing to be a fine and reputable old pure-blood family, though fallen on somewhat impoverished times in recent decades - though Mister Arthur Weasley continues to deny that it was his father's unusual activities that squandered away the family's fortune - in reality this home is nothing short of a den of iniquity and shame. The smiling veneer of this family is just that, a fa├žade covering a web of burning hatred, homicidal tendencies, rivalry, incest and other activities which can only be described as both illegal and immoral.

The first hint that all was not well within these walls came upon my arrival on the front doorstep. Before I could even knock on the front door, out of said door came barrelling two identical young men that sadly are far too old to have their recklessness written off as mere childish play - in fact, it can only be described as delinquency. Fred and George Weasley, the twin sons of Molly and Arthur Weasley, had alarmingly low grades after completing their final year at Hogwarts, and seem to have correspondingly low ambitions, according to a private source.

Once the two boys, somewhat startled at my presence in their running path and ashamed of their behaviour, had lifted a lady partway to her feet, one suddenly asked, with an astounding lack of manners, "Hey... aren't you that Rita Skeeter woman? The reporter that wrote all that stuff about Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and all that?" No sooner had an affirmative reply been given, than their grips loosened - no doubt in alarm at what I could uncover in their household - and I found myself once more on the ground, in a most undignified position. However, before I could ask any questions of the boys, who had turned around to enter the house once more, than the reason for their initial flight became suddenly apparent.


Mister Percy Weasley, son of Arthur and elder brother to the twins, followed his father into the Ministry, has always been a devoted young man, a prime example of hard work and decorous behaviour. Indeed, at the tender age of twenty he is now the Acting Minister of International Magical Cooperation after the mysterious disappearance of Mister Bartemius Crouch over a year ago.

In light of this, the fact that he stood in the front door confronting his two younger brothers, wearing only a towel, with a cauldron gripped in one hand and a wand with what appeared to be a rubber chicken hanging out of it held in the other, was unsettling to say the least. Could it be that this model young man has finally cracked under the strain of trying to keep his family out of hot water?

It appears so, since the next five minutes consisted of a constant stream of semi-articulate screaming such as "SUBSTANDARD work on substandard cauldrons, eh? Substandard THIS!" and "I am going to take your stupid joke wands and I am going to stick them up your left nostrils so hard they'll come back out your RIGHT nostrils!" as well as many hexes and curses, and much physical abuse culminating in bruising and lacerations. Mysteriously, the twins received little of this, and Percy seemed disinclined to care that his blows were in fact hitting a lady.

Holy cow, did you read it last week?
Well they had this one freak
Who sucker-punched his whole family
Do you recall when the brawl
Became a total free-for-all
And Rita's in the middle trying to be the referee

After this less-than-promising start, I was herded into the house by Mrs Molly Weasley, who applied healing salves and pain killing potions with a somewhat heavy hand - shall we say clumsy, or purely spiteful? Taking the opportunity to ask some questions, I received cold replies from Mrs Weasley that Fred and George are planning to open their own joke shop complete with their own original inventions, and while she disapproves of their constant testing of their products on the rest of the family, she has come to highly appreciate their drive, ambition and initiative. When I pointed out that it seemed their drive did not extend to their schoolwork, she merely glared at me, apparently unconcerned for her sons' standing in respectable society.

The youngest of the many children and the only daughter of the family, fifteen-year-old Virginia Weasley (commonly known as "Ginny") came in to ask her mother a question. As she came into the room, I was immediately struck by the suspiciously adult form her body had. A simple case of being an early bloomer is no doubt possible, but this reporter suspects drastic remodelling and alteration of a cosmetic nature is far more likely.

After being coaxed into a conversation while her mother went to answer a message by Floo, Ginny Weasley finally admitted that she had carried on a short but nonetheless intense friendship of a dubious nature with none other than You-Know-Who himself, or rather a memory preserved in writing from the time he was but sixteen. Not only that, but she also admitted to a strong crush on the very nemesis of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Such flighty behaviour is highly disturbing in such a young lady, and the child realised her own flaws and began to weep heartrendingly during the interview.

When her mother came back in the room, she was immediately confronted with the evidence of Ginny's absurdly precocious body and hormones, and asked for an explanation. Infuriated, she demanded that I leave, before she called her husband. The real question to be asked of Mrs Weasley, however, is precisely where Ginny had gotten this 'memory' of You-Know-Who from - possibly from a secret diary from someone else's desire for the Dark Lord? An inherited family heirloom from Mrs Weasley is a distinct possibility. Unfortunately, it is a question that must go unanswered for now, as all six of Ginny's elder brothers had heard her crying by now and organised rather firmly for my departure.

Hey, see the stripper with the implants?
She likes to lap-dance
And date the boyfriend of her mother
Now here comes Rita's next guest
And it's a slugfest
'Cause it's her trailer-trash brother

My next stop was to the home of Muggle-born Hogwarts student, Hermione Granger, who starts her sixth year in a few weeks. Many of you will recall Miss Granger as the young lady who took it upon herself to cheat on the Boy Who Lived, while he was under the stress of competing underage in the Triwizard Tournament. Upon discovering that she was currently out, I received word of where she was - in the middle of a practice session of a peculiar, and apparently quite ancient, Muggle sport.

Arriving at the building, I found myself forced to fill out a form stating that I did not hold the proprieters in any way responsible if I were injured. I saw no problems with this, signed the waiver, and entered the sporting building.

Dressed in what appeared to be the standard uniform, Miss Granger stood, practicing odd, repetitive movements. Upon seeing me, her facial expression changed very oddly, as if she had been drugged or placed under a spell. Initially, her answers were concise and reasonably courteous, until I began to ask questions slightly closer to home. At this point she insisted on giving me a hands-on-demonstration of her chosen Muggle sport.

This reporter would like to note that "karate" is a dangerous and painful activity, unsafe in the hands of Muggles, and advises all readers not to enter a building where signing a safety waiver is required. Miss Granger's enthusiasm is commendable, but the results were not appreciated.

Nymphomaniac is back on crack
It's like "When Animals Attack"
They all exhibit reprehensible behaviour
Hit 'em in the nose, tear off their clothes
Step on their toes, that's how it goes
They get so violent they have to sign a waiver!

Now we move on to the disgrace that goes on behind the stony walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under the current guardianship of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Admired by many for nostalgic or grateful reasons, very few have dared to publically express a negative opinion on this highly mysterious man, even though his outdated ideas and outrageous behaviour become more intense ever year.

One of the few who are unafraid to break the code of silence and speak his mind is Lucius Malfoy, a well-known and highly respected figure in sophisticated society. Mister Malfoy has, to his credit, never kept his disapproval of Dumbledore and his methods a secret. For many years, Mister Malfoy has declared to others his opinion that Dumbledore should not be Headmaster of Hogwarts, and has even used his position as school governor to attempt to persuade others to his viewpoint. Instead, he found himself the one stripped of his title of governor. Certainly, this has not improved his demeanour towards the older wizard, but apparently it all came to a head last year when his son, Draco, was having a heated discussion with another student. A certain nameless teacher decided to administer on-the-spot discipline, in the form of Transfiguring young Draco into a ferret. The helpless and terrified boy attempted to scurry away, but was then bounced by this teacher on the cold stone floor as a further disciplinary measure. The other boy in the situation was left 'undisciplined', yet Dumbledore never took the teacher to task for his reckless abuse of magical power to torment and terrify youngsters under his tutelage.

Considering that Dumbledore has already made such mistakes as overlooking the bloodlines of his half-giant groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Hagrid, and turning a blind eye to the increasingly dangerous and even violent hijinks of various students, one is forced to wonder how this man continues to hold sway over the number of people he does. Naturally, in such a blatantly biased environment, rivalry between students runs high, especially for those students unfortunate enough to be Sorted into the less-favoured Houses. Whether the rumours of newly-Sorted students bursting into tears and tearing their House crest off their robes immediately after their Sorting in distress at the seven-year bias they will be facing is true, still remains to be proven.

They're always swearing, cursing, kicking butt and pointing blame!
On the page? Don't bug this mage, they've got no shame!
There was one guy who I'm sure felt a little strange
When he found out that his son had a species change
They have a tendency to scream and yell constantly
They have a history of ripping off their shirts

The Weasley twins are another example of Dumbledore's failure to care for his students. Permitted by favouritism to get away with infractions that would have seen many other students expelled, the boys never had a chance to grow up into disciplined, contributing members of society. An interview with a student who has requested to remain anonymous for the sake of privacy and safety relates a story wherein the twins stole a young man's clothing while he was in the shower, and his wand, and left something else in place that the boy had no choice but to wear. This led to a scene whereby half the school body witnessed two laughing red-haired hellions being chased down the corridor a by young man, incidentally the captain of his House's Quidditch team, wearing a woman's swimsuit and screaming revenge would be his next time they met on the pitch.

Another sad sign that Dumbledore's control of the students is inadequate shows in the ease by which You-Know-Who constantly manages to cause trouble, despite the fact that Dumbledore is supposedly the only wizard He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever truly feared. Indeed, one year he even managed to sneak into the school grounds themselves and remain there for nearly the entire year without being discovered, due to a member of the teaching staff who had been possessed by the Dark Lord in his dastardly quest. The teacher in question died during the ensuing fight between Harry Potter and You-Know-Who, since both seemed to care little for the life of a mere pawn.

Then again, perhaps one should not be so hard on the Boy-Who-Lived, since he has had precious little training in the difference between wrong and right. He knew nothing of our world before attending Hogwarts, and once his schooling began, Dumbledore has actively encouraged arrogance and reckless, thoughtless behaviour in the already unstable boy. One can imagine the saviour of our times facing a mob of Death Eaters swooping down in their deadly black cloaks and anonymous behind their cowardly masks. Young, untrained and instantly recognisable by his scar, he is different to them in every way, and has a superiority complex for precisely this reason. The entire teaching staff at Hogwarts have much to answer for in not bringing the child to heel, for his sake and ours.

It's been one week since they had the fight
With the Siamese twins and that transvestite
Five days since that awful brawl
They still haven't got the blood off the wall
It's been three days since the bitter feud
Between the KKK and that gay Jewish black dude
Yesterday it finally dawned on me
I'm spending way too much time on that Rita Skeeter

Indeed, one conversation between Harry Potter and one of his greatest admirers, the aforementioned Ginny Weasley, which occurred just before the end of the last year leaves no doubt in the mind that both these children are in need of some serious and immediate therapy before their youthful minds are warped beyond repair. Granted, the Boy-Who-Lived had just taken his O. and had shouldered the stress of dealing with more behavioural difficulties related to his scar, but neither of these excuses can cover every form of deviancy. Despite their surreptitious glances over their shoulders at the room and taking particular notice of its occupants, they oddly also seemed to show an exhibitionist streak, as both of them raised their voices louder and louder during their increasingly bizarre conversation, as if deliberately flaunting their dysfunctionality to all and sundry. This reporter could not help but overhear their highly disturbing conversation - indeed, had anyone else been in the room, they too would have been forced to hear.

"Baby, I've been sleeping with your brother!"
"Oh! ...Which one?"
"ALL of them!"
"OH! Well, I've been sleeping with your best friend Hermione!"
"Oh yeah?! Well, well - me too!"
"AND, I've been sleeping with my dog Snuffles!"
"Snuffles, you b***h! Well, I'm also sleeping with your pet owl!"
"That owl doesn't love you!"

(Once you start reading, there's just no stopping
Your brain shuts down then your I.Q's dropping
Rita's the Queen of Confrontation, she's a sensation
She puts the "sin" in syndication
It's totally worthless, like a bad cheque
It's like a train wreck, don't want to stare but you can't look away
Like "National Enquirer" she does interviews
But with more kooks
The ratings jumping higher every day)

Venturing further into the depths of Hogwarts reveals the Head of Slytherin House and the Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape. A sinister, secretive figure, the professor prefers to have his private rooms in the dungeons. One would think that after teaching in such a dank, dreary place all day, a sophisticated gentleman would prefer to have his office and living quarters in the spacious rooms in the sunny eastern tower. Yet Professor Snape merely scowls and gives the abrupt answer of "I am quite comfortable down here, thank you" when questioned about the oddity. Intrigued, this reporter followed him to his office, where she saw shelves upon shelves of menacing-looking bottles and jars, cobwebs and hard wood furniture, with not a single creature comfort in sight. At the suggestion that we may take the interview to his rooms - which, like all professors' private quarters, is directly connected to his office - the refusal was somewhat icy. Further questions failed to unveil much about this slippery man with the black robes and slippery black hair. It was, however, a closer study of this hair and an attempt to determine just how slippery it was that led to my abrupt departure. It seems Professor Snape has a violent dislike of a woman's touch. One can conclude his tastes swing to other directions - perhaps to the young boys whom he teaches? He certainly seems to have no love for teaching in general - or for interior decorating, for that matter.

After leaving the Potions Master's office, with snappish and somewhat convoluted directions, this reporter finally made her way to the single most scandal-ridden place in the entire school - the Defence Against the Dark Arts office. This position has been riddled with disaster for years, as not one teacher has managed to hold the position for more than the one year since the entrance of the Boy-Who-Lived into Hogwarts. First, a follower of You-Know-Who took the position, almost gaining hold of an object of immense power. The precise identity of the object is unknown, though some rumours have it that it was a feather from the wings of Icarus himself. Secondly, a well-known author and adept wizard who is well-loved by all you faithful Witch Weekly readers applied, but unfortunately that year several mysterious incidents befell various students. Professor Lockhart was badly injured in an attempt to halt the vile creature responsible, and was forced to attend St. Mungo's for treatment. The year after this, as most of you will remember, a man who Dumbledore well knew was a werewolf was allowed to return to the school to teach innocent children - a scandalous incident that has yet to pass by. And finally, the position was taken by Alastor Moody, an Auror well-known for his over-enthusiasm and paranoia. This man performed the Unforgiveables in front of his students, not to mention using the Imperious curse ON his students, under the impression that he was teaching them how to defend against them.

Therefore, it was most surprising when a quiet knock quickly revealed none other than Gilderoy Lockhart himself, five times winner of the Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile of the Year Award. Showing delightful manners, guests are ushered into his domain amidst copious compliments, offers of tea and many smiles. In stark contrast to Professor Snape, Professor Lockhart was immaculately groomed in robes of mauve with a pattern of triangles in a charming shade of pink, with matching hat and shining shoes. However, the interview had not progressed far when Auror Moody entered the room, his magical eye rolling wildly as he shouted, "Now just a minute, young whippersnapper! I told Albus I'd be in this teaching position for a year as a favour to him, and damn it, Barty brat or no Barty brat, I am going to do it!" Any attempt to explain to the obviously senile man that he had already discharged his promise to Dumbledore went ignored amidst shouts of "CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Ha! Weren't ready for that, were you sonny? What kind of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher do you call yourself anyway?"

Professor Lockhart is now in St Mungo's again, but fear not, gentle reader, once the "cosmetic surgery" is complete, he will be exactly as he was before.

Well if you've seen the show well then you know
It's just as low as you can go
The guests are tacky and they're lacking in their hygiene
Then pretty soon some ugly goon comes in the room
And then it's BOOM in the face of some unsuspecting drag queen

And what, you may be asking, has the effect of all this been on the student body, on our sons and daughters? What indeed. Back a few years, during the Triwizard Tournament, the injuries inflicted on the poor young competitors were not the only ones. Young lovebirds were broken up and reforming new partnerships at lightning speed, children screaming at each other in rage and using newly-learned spells to fling the nearest item of clothing, literature, furniture over at the one they were so angry at, often making things dangerous for small animals in the dorms, such as pet cats or toads, or insects. One may wish that this is merely the normal mercurial behaviour of growing adolescents, but being able to be certain of it is another matter entirely.

Well it's the kind of article where people scream obscenities
Yanking hair, throwing chairs at their hubbies
"Rita, Rita" now the readers start their favourite chant
Should I close my magazine? I just can't!
I have a tendency to read it religiously
I have a history of keeping each one

The final location of this reporter's visit to Hogwarts was the kitchens, as a cup of tea and a small ladylike snack was desired after all that hard work. Unfortunately, it was not to be, as upon my arrival the kitchens were found to be in somewhat of an uproar. It seems that one of the house elves is actually a free elf who Dumbledore actually pays, and furthermore, permits to wear any type of clothing it wishes to. This naturally annoys the other house elves, as they know and accept their place in society, and have apparently had enough of this troublemaking odd-man-out and his ways. In protest, they had all removed their Hogwarts house elf uniforms, consisting of a teatowel with the Hogwarts crest on it, and were marching around holding them up, chanting proudly "No Clothes! No Clothes! Good House Elves Do Not Wear Clothes! Unless Of Course They Are Told To!" A passing member of the staff murmured that "she had predicted this would happen" and disappeared back up to the main school, while I used the fireplace and some Floo powder to make an earlier-than-originally planned exit to Malfoy Manor.

Unfortunately, my arrival at the household created something of an uproar, as Mrs Malfoy currently had guests. Narcissa Malfoy is indeed so charming as to attract any wizard, and a few perverted witches, and it is near-impossible to believe that she is actually the mother of a teenaged boy. Nevertheless, Mrs Malfoy should learn to conduct her, shall we say, affairs, with more subtlety and discretion. For example, while having one's lover(s) visit you in your home is considered passable if your spouse is away, it is generally considered bad taste to invite more than one over at a time, since just like one's spouse, it is advised to keep them in the dark about any other dalliances. Mrs Malfoy seemed to realise this, by the sudden pallor of her face when I arrived without warning. (She also may have perhaps realised that the chimney badly needed sweeping. Soot everywhere is not a sophisticated look for such a grand house.)

A good seven men, at least, were there, including the honourable Mister MacNair from the Ministry, Mister Crabbe (a married man), Mister Goyle (likewise), Mister Avery, and two mysterious men whose faces remained unseen, one scuttling like a nervous rat back and forth, trying to hide his hand for some reason (an identifying mark, possibly?) The other seemed simply amused, and silently gestured for my departure - which Mrs Malfoy and the other men in the room all hurried to arrange. Very quickly.

It's been one week since the piece about
Psycho killers with problems they should work out
Five days since the big surprise
When some loser's wife said that she's still dating twenty guys
Three days since she interviewed
A bunch of psychic porn star midgets who were all nude
Yesterday it occurred to me
I'm spending way too much time on that Rita Skeeter

And so, fair reader, I must bid you adieu. Always remember, when in doubt, read this article and let it give you courage to search, for you will reap the rewards of finding out the truth for yourself!

Tired of wasting my time on that Rita Skeeter...
I've got way too much class to read Rita Skeeter...
Come over here and pull on my finger...