#best newspaper for property ad

[newspaper-advertisement]

Maximising Exposure: How to Book Effective Newspaper Property Ads

[releasemyad1]

Classified property ads in newspaper – helping you find what you need easily!

[foodandfolklore]

Tools and Ingredients to keep on hand; Kitchen Witchcraft Elevated Pt. 2

Alright time for Part 2, Ingredients! Again, this is my person preference, and it's like my third time trying to write this out so bear with me. These are things I tend to keep on hand, and this list is not going to just include Salt, Pepper, Garlic; You got that already. I hope. If you're looking for info on Tools, check out Part 1. Onions: I keep a bowl of onions on one of my shelves in my kitchen. I find they keep better outside of the fridge, and I can easily see when I'm running low. Onions have strong protective and good cleansing properties so I tend to add them to my pot or pan before adding any other food. I also like to let them caramelize to get that transformative element.

Lemons: Lemons are great to use in so many dishes, both sweet and savory. You can zest the peel for it's oils and fragrance. You can squeeze the lemon for it's juice and acid. They're associated with beauty, longevity, positivity, mental clarity, cleansing; ect. One of the great things about lemons is thanks to their peel, you can leave them out at room temperature for long periods of time, so long at the peel is unbroken. So if you need to make space in your fridge, pull out your lemons.

Cinnamon Sticks: Okay so every witch has ground cinnamon. It's one of the easiest and cheapest spices to get. It's in every beginner box of witchy herbs. And it that's because it's absolutely fantastic to use. The problem with cooking, however, ground cinnamon isn't always the best option. The power is very fine, but also gritty. So it can be hard to strain out if you are just wanting to infuse some cinnamon. It's why I keep sticks on hand. They're also great for seasonal garlands and bundles.

Italian Seasoning: Rosemary, Thyme, Basil and Oregano. That is what's in Italian seasoning. Do I have these seasonings separate? Yes I do. And there are other seasonings in there like Marjoram, Summer Savory, Sage, Parsley; it varies a little from brand to brand. But if I'm in a rush, I can grab that Italian seasoning to make my food tasty and include one (or all) of the spice correlation properties. Quick note; if you're buying yours, check the ingredients. It should list what spices it's using. I bought a big thing of "Italliano" once without checking and my food was just not emotionally the same. I checked the ingredients and is was mostly dried bell peppers and salt.

Cayenne: It's cheap, spicy, and banishes bad shit. That's all I ask of it.

Vinegar: This may seem odd since vinegar is largely associated with souring spells and Hexes. But it also has strong cleansing an protecting properties too. You can also use it as a preventative property to deture people from asking uncomfortable questions or bringing up touchy topics. But vinegar is also an important tool in the culinary world. A lot of the time, if you taste your food and it tastes flat or bland, even with lots of seasonings, a little acid and brighten it up. Sure you can use lemon juice, but sometime you just need a tsp, and opening a jar of vinegar is easier than juicing a lemon. Vinegar is a key component in many sauces and marinades. Not to mention being used in pickling. Then they are a lot of uses outside cooking, like help with cleaning. My MIL's favorite way to wash windows is still spray with white vinegar and wipe with newspapers.

Canned Milk: So we all keep some kind of milk in the fridge. Dairy milk, Oat milk, Almond Milk, Soy Milk, lots of wonderful kinds of milk. So why keep canned milk? Well, canned milk tends to be thicker and creamery than regular fridge milks. Yes, I can go out and get cream, but it's often cheaper and easier to just use some canned milk I have laying around. Plus, sometimes cream is too rich for what I want. The three main kinds of canned milk I keep on hand are Evaporated Milk, Sweet and Condensed Milk, and Coconut Milk. If you drink only dairy milk, I recommend keeping at lest one can of coconut milk on hand too. In case one day you find yourself cooking for someone who can't have dairy milk.

Soy Sauce: This is a great, inexpensive flavor enhancer that I add to soups, curries, and meats. I buy it in bulk, and I always get more before I run out. Because of it's dark color, and it's made from soy, it has strong protection and banishing properties for me.

Cumin: This is a weird one for me. I go through waves of using cumin and not using cumin. I'll use it for every other meal one month, then not touch it again for another month. So, to preserve it's flavor and aroma, I buy whole cumin seeds, and crush them as I need them. But I like keeping cumin on hand since many recipes online will include cumin in their spices.

And that's all I got for now. If I think of more stuff later, maybe I'll make a part 3

[blueiscoool]

Who Buried the $10M in Rare Gold Coins Found by a California Couple?

What they found, where it's from—and what are the odds?

The dream of discovering buried treasure came true for a California couple who found a real pot of gold while walking their dog. The largest such hoard ever found in the U.S. is comprised of 1,411 gold coins, minted between 1847 and 1894, worth an estimated $10 million in today's market.

The coins are now known as the Saddle Ridge Hoard, after a feature on the couple's property. Both the location of the land and the couple's identity are being kept secret.

According to an interview given to the coin company that will market the hoard, the discovery was made on a path they had used for years. Spotting the side of a rusted can barely emerging from a hillside, they dug it out with a stick and carried it home. Subsequent trips to the site turned up several more treasure-filled cans.

Most of the coins are $20 gold pieces, known as double eagles. All of those were made at the San Francisco mint, founded in 1854 to process the nuggets that prospectors were finding in the newly discovered California gold fields.

But at least one of the coins came from a much earlier bonanza—a $5 piece known as a Dahlonega half eagle.

That's Dahlonega, Georgia.

East Coast Gold Rushes

"Before the California gold rush, there were discoveries [of gold] in North Carolina and Georgia in the early 1800s—not on the same scale, of course, but enough to cause rushes to those places," said Douglas Mudd, the director and curator of the American Numismatic Association's Money Museum, in a phone interview.

"The U.S. government then opened two mints—one in Charlotte and the other in Dahlonega," he explained. Before that time, the mint in Philadelphia was the country's only such facility, established in 1792 when the city was the national capital.

At the start of the U.S. Civil War, the Confederate government took over the mints in North Carolina and Georgia. But by then, the East Coast gold had mostly played out, and the mints closed after the end of the war.

Mint Condition

Aside from sheer quantity, one of the extraordinary features of the Saddle Ridge Hoard is the condition of the coins. "They are in very good shape—they don't show a whole lot of wear," says Mudd. "Some of them probably haven't circulated at all."

About a dozen of the coins, in fact, are among the best surviving examples of their kind.

Condition affects the value of a coin, as does rarity. In 1860, for example, San Francisco produced more gold double eagles than it did in 1866, so coins from the latter year have added value. One of the finest double eagles from the Saddle Ridge Hoard, minted in 1866, has an estimated value of $1 million.

List of Suspects

Based on the dates of the coins and the cans they were found in, experts believe that the hoard may have been buried over a span of time, but surely not after the early years of the 20th century.

The hoard's face value is $28,000. "That was a lot of money in the late 1800s," says Mudd. "A huge amount."

Who would have left a fortune in the ground and not returned to claim it?

A prospector who wanted to protect his stash? Not likely. "There were still a few people panning for gold in the 1890s," says Mudd, "but by then companies were doing most of the mining."

An outlaw trying to hide the coins while on the lam?  Perhaps.

Someone extremely wealthy, eccentric, and distrustful of banks? Another possibility.

A researcher with the time and interest, who knows the location of the find, might uncover an answer. Property records would record the owner of the land in the late 1800s, says Mudd. That might be one clue. And a search through newspapers of the time could turn up a report of money gone missing. There might even have been a local tradition of buried treasure recorded somewhere.

What Are the Odds?

Could another lucky person strike gold like this, somewhere in the U.S., in the future? Not very likely.

"You get a lot of hoards in Europe—coins buried for hundreds or thousands of years," says Mudd, "but they're less common in the U.S. Our history isn't that long, and for most of the time we've had banks, so people have tended to put their money there."

The occasional cache of Spanish pieces of eight comes to light in the Southwest. Or a modest collection of colonial coins is uncovered. Finding "60, 70, 200 coins—yes," says Mudd. "1,400? That's exceptional."

There are exceptions.

In 1985, construction workers in Jackson, Tennessee, unearthed 300 gold coins in almost mint condition. The workers quickly took them to banks for cash, traded them for jewelry, and in one case even exchanged some for a used car. A book called Gold Is the Key, published in 2012, makes the case that the coins are linked to a local bank robbery and murder in 1859.

Most discoveries wouldn't have such a dramatic backstory, and are rare occurrences anyway. Still, people who sweep metal detectors over fields as a hobby, and backyard dog walkers casually kicking up a bit of dirt, can always hope for a lucky strike.

BYA. R. WILLIAMS

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort in Girl’s Day

Summary - Part 49 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Sorry guys, it’s another short one this week. Been busy with my family for the holidays. I hope you all had a great Christmas (or whichever holiday you celebrate). 

In town, you and Destiny visit a few stores shopping for clothes, toys and beauty products for a relaxing girl’s weekend in the Bunker. She tries on various outfits for pyjamas, day clothes and even a few nice dresses for the occasion that you may be able to celebrate her addition to your little family properly. You even buy a few new outfits for yourself; it’s been so long since you went clothes shopping without a set event or intention in mind. 

After a few hours, both your and Destiny’s stomachs begin to growl. You know you won’t be able to get her a raw cow’s heart to eat in public but you hope she might be able to tolerate a rare steak until you can get home. You go to a diner down the street that you know serves decent meals. You order a rare steak and chips for Destiny and a medium rare for yourself with veggies, knowing you’ll get her chips. You also ask for a pitcher of water and two glasses. On your way to the table, you notice a stack of newspapers; on habit, you pick one up. Dean always gets them to look for cases, despite the internet being much better for that now, but you want it for a different reason. While you wait for your meals to arrive you flick through to the real estate listings and open houses. As you scan through crossing off houses that are totally out of your budget or style your eyes settle on a secluded property in the mountains. You know Dean would never want to live in the town with neighbours crowding him and invading his privacy, so the location is perfect. The house also looks in quite good condition, from the photos anyway. You type the address into your GPS and decide to drive by it before going back to the Bunker after lunch. 

Destiny eats the steak reluctantly to quench her hunger for now; it doesn’t provide the same nutrients that she requires as the heart would, but she doesn’t complain. She’s always so grateful for everything you do. You pick at her chips along with eating your own meal; your appetite is nowhere near as big as your husband’s and it’s even smaller now that you’re not over-exerting yourself on hunts. But you manage to make a decent dent in both meals and then take what’s left of your massive steak home for dinner. 

“You mind if we make a detour on the way back to the Bunker?” you ask Destiny once you’re both finished eating.

She shakes her head. “Where we going?”

“There’s just something I want to check out. It’s a house. Maybe a new home for us and Dean, of course, if he agrees.”

“What about Sam?”

“If there’s enough space he’s welcome, but I think if we leave the Bunker he’ll go back to college or something. I don’t know. Sam will do whatever he wants. I thought the giant scared you?”

“He does…But he’s nice.”

“He is. You ready to go?” You ask and she nods. 

You follow the GPS directions up into the mountains until you find the house from the photos. It has the exterior look and feel of a peaceful cabin in the woods, but it’s bigger than the average cabin. It’s large, but not too large, according to the ad, it’s four bedrooms and three bathrooms, with a full-size kitchen, lounge, study, games room, and a double garage. It also has a shed out the back and a pool. It’s a large block, but that just adds to the appeal as there’s no one else around. It will be like your own private sanctuary. Like the bunker, but without the lair-like feel. You truly believe you could make this a home. Of course, you still need to look inside and convince Dean, but you have high hopes. 

After having a decent look at the property, you head back to the Bunker to unpack your shopping haul. Both a little tired from all the events that have already occurred today, after unpacking, you decide that it’s the perfect time to watch a movie and just relax. You bring blankets and pillows into the Dean Cave and set it up for an afternoon slumber party. While you set up the room, you let Destiny scroll through Netflix to find something to watch. Once everything is set up, you both snuggle up in the cushions and blankets. You send a quick selfie and text to Dean letting him know everything is good and reminding him to be safe. Destiny then presses play on her pick of movie: My Neighbor Tororo. You’re not surprised she picked an anime, considering it’s what Dean has been putting on at bedtime most nights (thankfully he’s been choosing G and PG-rated ones while she’s around). 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[argentaur]

Prompt: Runes

Sirius had once gifted Remus a stone pendant with an engraved Algiz rune. It had been the result of many, many late nights spent together working on Runes assignments, where they’d figured out early on that they approached rune readings very differently, and that they would rarely agree on an interpretation. Remus used transliteration and calculation as the basis of his readings, preferring logic and method, whereas Sirius thrived in spinning divinations and extracting symbolic meanings from the assembly of runes.

They had been rarely helpful to each other in completing their assignments, but it had made for many flowing debates and private jokes and references between them, one of which had led to a more sincere conversation sparked by the Algiz rune. Algiz, which meant protection. It was the counterforce against evil, Remus would recite, it meant enlightenment and blessing. And Sirius had added, it pointed to inner strength, it was about self-discovery and personal growth, it called for courage and to face one’s fears.

It had been a very rounded summary of Algiz’ meanings and interpretations, but most strikingly, Remus had thought that it perfectly encapsulated the root of Remus’ torments, and what he hoped to be. That he could one day conquer the beast inside of him, that he could overcome the hurdles and obstacles that life had put in his way, but most of all, it had been the implicit hope for a future, to be able to look forward and past the hardships. A hope that had first been sparked by his friends—he couldn’t imagine how he would have adapted to Gryffindor house without the three of them—and hope that kept being inspired by their unceasing loyalty.

But more than that, Remus had privately thought, it was Sirius that lied at the core of his motivations. His friends were his crutch, they steadied him, but Sirius made him feel fearless, he was what lit a fire in his soul, Sirius was the push that drove him to be better, to grow and move forward. Sirius was his safety, standing tall and defiant, and in a way, he was everything that Algiz was meant to represent: a shield around his weakness, a guiding star, and strength to face the uncertain future. Sirius made him dare and hope—for more.

And so, he’d thought the Algiz pendant had been a lovely gift, kind in its protective properties, but more preciously, it reminded him of Sirius himself. Sirius who’d given him the stone, but also Sirius who embodied everything it meant. Perhaps, he had intended to say, I wish you the best, I hope for your safety, but Remus would have liked to claim, you keep me safe, you are the best and I wish for you. 

But until the day he dared to voice his heart, he would treasure the pendant, and keep it as a reminder.

Conversely, Sirius had never properly explained the rune he favored, Perthro, except for making a quip about it being a cup and a womb. From his own studies, Remus knew it represented fate, the unassailable fate, and the uncertain future. It was an odd choice when it came to Sirius, and so, Remus hadn’t bothered giving him a rune gift in return, not when he was uncertain of the meaning it held to him.

Remus looked over the records he’d requested from one of the Order members, it had been difficult getting any substantial information that wasn’t the newspaper headline or pitying relay of the gruesome fact. He’d been gone for close to a month at that point, and it’d been longer since he’d properly grasped what went on in Sirius’ head. It was at moments like these that he wished back the hours of easy debates on runes, they had derailed into such nonsensical discussions because Remus didn’t believe in divination, but it had revealed a lot about Sirius’ perspective and his way of thinking.

Azkaban Prison Inmate Sirius Black 【 ᛈ ᛉ 3 9 0 】

Remus hadn’t known what to do with the news at first, he’d felt disbelieving, and then adrift. The world as he knew it had been shattered, and all that remained was him, a broken and washed out him, lying among the pieces. He’d tried to understand, and he couldn’t reconcile the Sirius in his mind, his memory, with the Sirius that the world would remember. He felt as though he’d returned to a foreign world, one in which Sirius, James, Lily and Peter simply didn’t exist.

And so, he’d averted his eyes from reality, refused to accept, and he’d looked for answers, to make sense of things, but there were no hints, no crumbs, nothing except an unflattering photograph and an impersonal Ministry designation, Perthro, Algiz, 3, 9, 0.

He didn’t know if seeing his name hurt more or seeing him stripped of his name and remembered by a code. Sirius Black once foretold brilliance, his last name a heavy burden, a stain, but one he’d sought to overturn. But now he was another criminal, another Dark wizard in Azkaban, Sirius the star, so brilliant he’d blinded them, Sirius the scourge of summer, he’d truly burnt them all.

Remus had since figured out the reading of Perthro, the self-determined fate. It meant cause and effect, it meant the hidden and the unknown. It meant peering into the dark but steering the ship with confidence. Fate might hand a person an unexpected lot, but it was past experiences, accumulated knowledge and personal aspirations that shape decision. A person’s future was determined by the sum of their actions.

Perthro was fate, was causality, was consequence, was karma. So, perhaps, he deserved what he got.

@wolfstarmicrofic (952 words)

[forthegothicheroine]

Best Fragrantica reviews of (some of) my favorite perfumes

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab Snake Oil

This is a scent that lends to a sense of danger and power, and not for the faint of heart–but rather for a heart-pricked thrice under a full moon right before you take a big dripping bite of it to seal the spell in flesh and blood and death. You’re the dangerous, powerful creature in this scenario and you gotta commit if you’re going to wear this gorgeously potent thing.

Vagabond Prince Enchanted Forest

Enchanted Forest is an enchanted forest in a bottle. All the smells of a lush overgrown coniferous forest of Eastern Europe or Russia is there. When you first spray this perfume, you are greeted by the smell of evergreen trees, pine, spruce, and fir. As the fragrance develops you are deeper into the forest and the smell of tart and delicious berries beckon you to find them. Hopefully they are not poisonous, but one never knows in a magical forest if the forces that created it are good or evil. There is the smell of herbs that are growing on the forest floor, aromatic edible herbs full of medicinal and life-giving healthy properties adding a little bite to a sweet woody perfume. The florals here are distant, like a far-off dream, you can sense them and search for them, but you drawn deeper and deeper into the dark coniferous forest.

Indult Tihota

Today my coworker entered the office and said "it smells like vanilla cookies in here!" That's me. I'm the vanilla cookies

TokyoMilk Tainted Love

It's verrrrry boozy! Like "don't even consider wearing this if your hung-over" kind of boozy!

Vilhelm A Lilac a Day

This is a photorealistic lilac experience. It's disturbingly beautiful. The only thing is, for me, it completely lacks sex appeal. I feel like there should be something... mysterious(?) about a fragrance that makes it alluring. This has no mystery whatsoever. It's a big whiff of a lilac bush. It skews old to me, but definitely old and rich. Like the Queen. Wear with white gloves and a huge hat.

Guerlain Mitsouko

Whenever I've been stopped and asked, "Just what is that you're wearing?" My answer is usually "Mitsouko." Everything about Mitsouko is timeless; an actual post-impressionist, post-Les Nabis group work of art, or, given the year of its release, an exercise of the Expressionist and Intimist art movements bottled in a languid, aloof, yet warm embrace of a fragrance.

Ex Idolo Love & Crime

It's lovely but it's SO DAMN STRONG. Nuclear projection. Eternal longevity. You want a delicious, addictive, unusual gourmand compliment beast? Be careful what you wish for.

Frederic Malle Portrait of a Lady

smells like a warm summer day spent in a dark castle somewhere in romania , beams of sunlight fighting past heavy curtains and if you look out the window there's a girl smelling flowers in a white dress . something sinister is definitely in the air . so so beautiful

Maison Martin Margiela By the Fireplace

The first time I smelt this fragrance, I was teleported to Chamonix, France in 1971 (just like the bottle says), sitting by the fireplace, reading a newspaper after just returning to my chalet after an afternoon of skiing.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 3

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💚💚.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜 𝖜𝖆𝖘 a wonderful place. It was more magical than where dad and I lived, so I got to see new magical objects. Of course, the Weasleys also lived on the outskirts of a Wizarding village. Dad and I lived in a Muggle town. They had a huge garden with gnomes which was fascinating to me. I loved exploring the garden and found small hidden areas, like a clump of rose bushes that would close up, putting you in a secret hideout made of roses and vines. I think it was meant to be romantic, but I thought of it as a hideout.

I also got to practice Quidditch more often here. Fred and George were both excited that I was going to try out for Hufflepuff Quidditch team, though they teased me constantly about it. We also talked a lot about it.

"What position are you going to try out for?" George asked, "Seeker, like Harry?"

I shook my head. "Cedric is seeker. I'm going to be trying out for either Chaser or Keeper." I grinned. "You Gryffindors won't be scoring if I'm keeper."

George rolled his eyes. "We'll see about that."

"Diggory is seeker?" Fred asked in disgust.

"And Captain." I added happily as I liked Cedric. He'd been made captain this year along with prefect.

Fred made choking sounds. I laughed, though I was just slightly offended. But I liked Fred far to much to argue with him.

Besides Quidditch, I got to catch up on all my studying, mostly my Muggle studies. There was so much to do! I also got to know Ginny quite well since she was the only other girl there. She was shy around Harry, but she liked to talk to me.

Mr. Weasley was also fascinated that I knew so much about Muggles even though I had a wizard as a father. He liked having either Harry or I explain how Muggle things like electricity, TV's, dishwashers, microwaves, and many other appliances, toys, or electronics worked. Sometimes, things that I thought were so easy were so hard to explain. Like how a rubber duck works? What? How do you explain the properties of rubber ducks?!

I read all of the Lockhart books and found them to be, while interesting, weird. Sure, I suppose these things really did happen, but with Lockhart's looks, I couldn't image him wrestling a Yeti in mud and snow. I couldn't see him doing anything that would possibly ruin those curls and his expensive robes. But perhaps he only got the robes and curls after he published his books. It was plausible that he wasn't rich before he did those things.

The newspaper I was dreading came out four days later with a big bold headline saying:

HARRY POTTER HAS A SECRET SISTER?

"Oh no." I muttered, snatching the paper out of the delivery owls claws. It hooted, disgruntled. I put a few knuts in it's tiny bag and it flew out the window. Then I sat down and read the following:

A book signing in Diagon Alley on August 4th revealed more than one surprise. A great deal was covered in that signing that would interest mainly witches, but also wizards. Gilderoy Lockhart, author of the newest book series: Gilderoy Lockhart's Magical Creatures Adventures, announced that he would be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There have been many compliments to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore for choosing such a renowned Dark Arts fighter. Many witches have written into the Daily Prophet saying that they wish they could be going to school this year to have him as their teacher. But this was not the end of Lockhart's secrets and surprises that afternoon. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, was there on the day of Lockhart's announcement. Of course, Lockhart was excited to meet him, and called him up to stand with him (photograph enclosed, see page 1a). Of course, Harry Potter is just as big as a celebrity as Lockhart, and this was only a natural thing to do. However, Lockhart perhaps made a mistake in also asking a girl to come up with him as well, calling her the sister of Harry Potter. The girl never announced her name, neither denying nor confirming whether or not she is Harry Potter's sister. Experts say however, that it is possible Lockhart made a mistake. "Magihistorians have studied the Potters for years" Says Bariums Lamour, a Magihistorian himself. "There is absolutely no evidence that this girl could possibly be related to Harry Potter. There are no pictures of her in the household (that we have seen as no one has entered the house since the fire was put out), nor evidence that a girl existed there at all. It is most likely just wishful thinking on Lockhart's part that they were related. There are many people out there that wish such a wonderful young boy like Harry Potter still had family. The two also look alike, so it could've been just a mishap in thinking they were related." However, it should be noted that since the Potter house cannot be fully explored due to safety precautions and also to respect the Potter household, not all rooms have been explored. Could there be evidence that Magihistorians have not uncovered? Could this girl be a Potter? Perhaps the world will never know.

I stared at the newspaper, the words blurring together. Oh this was terrible, super terrible.

Percy walked into the kitchen at that moment. "Is that the paper?" He asked, yawning.

I nodded mutely and handed it over to him and then quickly left the room. I went upstairs to the room I was sharing with Ginny. She was still asleep and I took out my quill and ink, writing quickly.

Dear Dad, I know you're at work and trying to settle into your new job, but I wanted to write to you, because I don't know if the newspaper got to you yet. If not, this letter may not make sense. I wanted to ask if my parents ever knew Gilderoy Lockhart. . . if they would've trusted him with such a secret. I'll probably be at Hogwarts by the time you get this. I miss you. Good luck at work. Love, Elizabeth

Then, I set it out on the window to dry and waited, picking up a Lockhart book, the Werewolf one, and reading it.

After seven minutes, the ink had dried. I folded it up before stuffing it carefully into an envelope, writing the name Dad a.k.a Remus Lupin on the outside of it. Sadie flew down from the wardrobe and held out her leg. I tied it on carefully. "This ones important." I whispered to her. I kissed the top of her head. "I'll have a treat for you when you get back."

She hooted softly, making Ginny stir, and then I opened the window so she could fly out. I had a knock on Ginny's door at that moment. I opened the door and stepped out, so the person couldn't wake Ginny. Fred was standing there with the newspaper. I scowled at him.

"Interesting article." Fred said, his voice quavering as he tried not to laugh.

"It's stupid, we don't even look like each other." I muttered, snatching the newspaper out of his hands.

"You seem mad to be seen as possibly related to Harry Potter." Fred said, tauntingly. "Why?"

I sighed, looking around. "Because." I muttered, trying to make this convincing, "Harry's had to go through enough. Don't you think he wishes he had family, that I really was his sister? Or maybe not particularly me, but a sister or brother in general?"

Fred dropped his smile at my seriousness. "You're right, I didn't think of it like that."

I shook my head. "And apparently neither does the newspaper. This will just cause confusion in the world, cause trouble for- not only Harry- but me as well, and all they wanted was a stupid story."

"Soooo." Fred said, "you just hate journalists?"

I laughed, but my heart was still heavy from all the lies. I hated lying. "sure."

"Let's go play Quidditch." Fred said, grabbing the newspaper back and tossing it into the rubbish bin. I thanked him silently with my eyes.

"Agreed." I said, darting into Ginny's room and grabbing my Nimbus 2000. Nothing was going to stop me from getting on that Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Nothing.

.💚💚.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖜𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊 was not made fun of by myself, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, or Ginny. The others however, found the article hilarious and kept teasing Harry and I about it, unless Mrs. Weasley was around. Mrs. Weasley had the same opinion that I did, that Harry didn't need something else to feel pained about. She also added, to the others, not to my face, that I, as a single child with deceased parents, probably would feel pained over this article as well. I did feel pained over the article, but for much different reasons. Ginny couldn't have teased Harry if her life depended on it. Fred only made jokes about it if Harry wasn't around, and only with George.

To be fair though, I didn't mind the teasing, because it showed that they didn't believe the article. As long as they weren't trying to ask serious questions like they believed it, everything was good.

The end of summer vacation came very quickly. Perhaps too quickly, considering that I wasn't looking forward to school anymore. First, I'd have to face Draco's wrath after tripping and humiliating his father in public. Not to difficult, I could beat him in a duel. But of course, rumors were harder to squash than angry boys. And I had a very large rumor to squash.

On our last evening, Mrs. Weasley made a delicious dinner that was filled with Harry's favorite dinner foods and my favorite dessert- Vanilla cake with vanilla icing on it. I thought it was a nice touch.

Fred and George let off fireworks in the house. They were red and blue, in the shape of stars. I thought they were wonderful. I told Mr. Weasley- as he was interested- that Muggles had fireworks too but that they couldn't be let off inside the house because their fireworks emitted smoke and gases, and also that they went up very high into the sky. If set off in a house, it would probably explode. He thought that was just fascinating. Then, we had hot chocolate, though at this point, I was already full, before we went to bed.

I laid in bed, hoping that tomorrow was going to be better. As if in answer, I saw the barrier to Hogwarts Express, but someone was slapping their hand against it, and it wasn't going through. The vision was gone a moment later, leaving me nervous about the next day.

It took me a while to fall asleep, setting an early alarm. I woke up before the others and quickly jumped out of bed. Trying not to wake up Ginny, I started packing my trunk neatly so that everything fit. Then, I closed it, locked it, and started dragging it down the stairs to put it next to the door so we could put it in the car later. Then, I stacked Sadie's empty cage on top of that.

I went back upstairs and woke Ginny up so that she could get a start on packing. "Don't forget anything." I warned nervously. I could only imagine that the border closed when the train left, which meant we were going to be late. After all, they probably didn't leave the border open year round though I had never thought about it before.

She yawned and I helped her pack everything. "That's everything you need, right?" I asked.

She nodded, confused, but not suspicious. I sighed in relief and helped her carry her trunk down the stairs, putting it next to mine. Another trunk that had joined mine since I had gone back upstairs. Percy's by the look of it.

By this time, near most everyone else was starting to get up. Mrs. Weasley started on breakfast and then commanded me to keep watch of the stove as she dashed about the house, finding extra quills and spare socks.

I had a nice stack of toast going, using my wand made it go much faster, and buttered each side, stacking them on a plate. People kept coming in and grabbing a piece and going out, eating and getting ready at the same time.

I ate a piece of toast myself with a nice cup of lemon zinger tea. That would hold me over until I could stuff my face with sweets on the Hogwarts train.

I started breathing easier when it got to the point where all the trunks were loaded up in the trunk and everyone was starting to get into the car. I dashed back upstairs to Ginny's room and checked every crevice, making sure I had everything. I touched my neck, wrist, and finger to make sure I had my necklaces, bracelet, and ring.

Then I went downstairs and out to the car, grabbing my leather bag and sitting between Percy and Fred in the car.

"You remembered your broomstick, right?" I asked on a whim.

He gasped, and quickly dashed out of the car to run and grab his broomstick. He brought it back just as Mrs. Weasley and Ginny climbed into the car in the front seat.

"Well, Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they? She asked. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

I giggled, quickly putting a hand over my mouth. Harry looked over his shoulder, watching the house disappear from view. Five minutes later, George said that he needed to go back for his Fireworks kit. I felt frustrated but was still able to breathe easily since Fred had his broomstick and Ginny had said she had everything.

We reached the highway, with thirty minutes to spare and then Ginny shrieked, making me jump, saying that she had forgotten her diary.

"I thought you said you had everything?!" I said, trying not to sound exasperated. We turned around so that we could go back for her diary. My nerves started going up again and I rested my head on Fred's shoulder, trying to relax. Good lord, he was tall.

By the time we got back to the house and Ginny got back in the car, we were starting to run late. We would still make it on time, thankfully, but we were going to cut it close. The image of the hand on the brick wall appeared in my head again.

I got that tingly feeling in my stomach and along my arms that one gets from being extremely anxious, almost sick. It was how I felt whenever I was invited to a birthday party somewhere and Dad and I weren't exactly late, but cutting it close.

Mr and Mrs. Weasley were arguing up front about whether or not we should fly the car which would cut our time in half. I wished they would. My stomach was doing flip-flops. I might vomit from nerves.

I mean it wouldn't be so bad, I supposed. Mr and Mrs. Weasley would probably discover, along with other parents, that they couldn't get back through the barrier. They'd find whoever was left behind and then either apparate them to Hogwarts, or send a letter off to Hogwarts to let them know about the barrier.

All we would probably miss, as Dumbledore was quite diligent, was the sorting, maybe the feast. Except I didn't have Sadie to write a letter.

The train left at eleven and we got there at 12 minutes till eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys while Fred, George, and Percy started pulling the trunks out of the car. I waited, anxiously, holding my leather bag and empty bird cage.

Mr. Weasley brought the trollies over, and we started loading them up. I wheeled mine around and followed Percy into the station. Fred and George caught up, we were practically running through the station. Percy took quick look around and then ducked through the barrier. I waited impatiently as Mrs. Weasley ushered Fred and George through. Mr. Weasley followed.

Mrs. Weasley said, "You three come quickly, I'll take Ginny through right now."

I nodded, the hand on the brick in my mind again. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley quickly went through the barrier. I glanced up at the clock.

"Go Elizabeth." Ron said, hurriedly. I walked quickly and gently pressed my hand against the barrier. I sighed in relief and quickly turned to the others. If I kept my hand on it, they'd be able to get through.

"Let's go you two." I said and Harry and Ron hurried over. I went to pull my hand out and found that I was not able too. "Wait, somethings wrong." I said. I pulled again. My hand was stuck in the brick wall. I tugged again, panicking, but it hurt my wrist.

Harry and Ron glanced up at the clock at the same time. 8. . . 7. . .6. . . 5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1. . . The train had left.

"What are we going to do now?" Ron asked, sounding like he was on the verge of panicking himself.

"Can you free your hand?" Harry asked worriedly, looking around. I was just glad they hadn't crashed their trolleys the way I had seen in my vision. He came over, grabbing my wrist, and tugging. I hissed and he let go quickly.

I shook my head. "Take Mr. Weasley's car. Get to Hogwarts and let Professor Snape, Sprout, McGonagall, Flitwick or Dumbledore know. Whoever you see first. I can't do any magic here."

"So what are you going to do?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Act like I'm leaning against this wall, waiting for someone." I said, looking around nervously. No one was looking at us for the moment. I hoped that it stayed that way. "And hopefully people won't pay too much attention to me."

Harry nodded, giving me on last worried look, and then followed Ron out of the station. I groaned and leaned my head back against the brick wall. If only I had Sadie and could write a letter to Hogwarts. Oh I should've used Hedwig! Gosh darn it!

I gritted my teeth and leaned against the wall, waiting.

.💚💚.

𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 later, Professor Dumbledore, Snape, and Sprout came walking down the corridor. I had my eyes closed, half asleep. I was bloody tired and hungry and was about ready to bust myself out of there. But I had already foreseen that Harry and Ron were in trouble with the car and I didn't really want detention either. Or a letter from the Ministry of Magic saying I could possibly be expelled for using magic in a place that was highly concentrated with Muggles for that matter.

It wasn't my fault. They would've taken it anyways and I knew the car had to be on Hogwarts' grounds for something later on, I just didn't know what at this moment.

"Miss Kane?" I heard a familiar voice ask.

I gave a start, as I was half-asleep, and opened my eyes. "P-Professor Dumbledore." I stuttered, straightening my position. "I didn't realize you'd come."

Dumbledore just smiled patiently, drawing his wand, and said, "Let's do something about your hand now."

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss Kane." Snape said while Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped the bricks around my hand. "Why didn't you send an owl instead of Potter and Weasley in an illegal flying car?"

I blushed bright red. While both Snape and Dumbledore knew about my futuristic visions, Professor Sprout didn't and I didn't want to say anything. After all, Professor Sprout was my house head. Letting her know that she was the last to know about something about one of her students wasn't exactly something I was looking forward to. "Oh um Sadie was on another trip, delivering a letter to my dad. And er-" I flicked my eyes between Snape and Dumbledore and then said, "Well I had a feeling the car needed to be on Hogwarts ground for er. . . some reason."

Dumbledore tapped the bricks a few times and my hand fell out of the bricks and I rubbed it. "Thank you."

"Let's get you back to the school." Dumbledore said. "Madam Pomfrey should look at your hand."

I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm just tired- and hungry."

"Understandable." Professor Dumbledore said. "Let's go. Severus, please take care of Miss Kane's things. Pomona, let's get Miss Kane to the hospital wing for a brief checkup."

Guess he was going to ignore me then. Snape and Sprout both nodded and we left the potions teacher behind.

"Please tell me what happened." Dumbledore said as we walked through the nearly empty station.

I explained what happened the best that I could with Professor Sprout there, and Professor Dumbledore seemed to understand.

"It's not entirely important." He said with a wave of his hand. "You can tell me eventually when you've gotten some rest."

"How are we going to get to Hogwarts Professor?" I asked Professor Sprout as Professor Dumbledore strode ahead. "Floo powder?"

"Yes, we've gotten permission from Madam Rosmerta to transport to the Three Broomsticks. Then it'll be a short walk to the castle." Professor Sprout said. She seemed a bit distracted.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?" I asked, concerned. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. "It's an extremely dangerous job. Potter and Weasley crashed the flying car into the Whomping Willow. It's going to need some slings."

"Oh no!" I exclaimed. I hadn't foreseen that. "Is the Whomping Willow going to be okay? Harry and Ron are okay too, right?" I added quickly, remembering that people were usually more important than plants.

She nodded. "Potter and Weasley didn't seem to receive anything more serious than some bruises. The car took more damage, according to Severus anyways. The Whomping Willow will be alright as well, probably maybe take three or so days to heal."

I nodded, feeling exhausted just talking about it. The Whomping Willow was a very dangerous plant to deal with. I certainly wouldn't be able to help with that one.

Professor Dumbledore held open a door to a small, abandoned pub. "Is this where you came out?" I asked, uncertain.

"We apparated." Dumbledore said with a calming smile.

"Oh, of course." I said, feeling stupid.

Dumbledore went first and I followed. I fell out into a nearly abandoned restaurant. There were a few customers in the back but it was quiet. The guests didn't look at us as we exited.

"Where's Professor Snape?" I asked as Professor Sprout joined us.

"He's already at the castle." Dumbledore said. "Your stuff will probably be in your dorm room for you when you get there."

We walked the rest of the distance to the castle in silence. My visions, I realized, were a curse and a blessing at the same time. I was only in this position because I'd tried to mess with the future. I didn't mess with the future. That was why Harry didn't know I was his sister, that's why I let Quirrell almost steal the stone, that's why I didn't tell anyone the content of my visions. Because I didn't mess with the future. If I'd just gone through the barrier, knowing that whether I stayed behind or not, Harry and Ron wouldn't have been able to get through, I'd already have eaten dinner and be in bed right now. That was it, I wasn't listening to any more futuristic visions- no matter what.

Professor Dumbledore left me with Professor Sprout who led me to the hospital wing. There was no one else in the wing, but Madam Pomfrey was still up, rearranging bottles of medicine in a cabinet and cleaning up.

"Ah Miss Kane, back so soon?" Madam Pomfrey asked with a thin smile. Probably because I'd been here about the last week of school or so.

"Professor Dumbledore just wants her hand looked at quickly." Professor Sprout said. She quickly explained the situation. Madam Pomfrey didn't even look surprised. I suppose she'd seen pretty much everything. Or maybe she'd heard about the flying car and a hand stuck in a wall was less crazy. But really, what constituted for crazy in the magical world?

Madam Pomfrey took my hand in hers and examined it for about two minutes. "There's a bit of a strain on these wrist bones, right here," she pointed to my radius and ulna. "I can put it in a small brace for about 12 hours, and as long as you take this potion, it should be perfectly fine after that."

I nodded. I needed my wrist healed. "Please."

The brace was applied, the sweet turquoise potion was drunk, and I followed Professor Sprout back to the Hufflepuff common room. "I believe Professor Snape asked a house elf to bring food up for you. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Herbology first thing."

"Do you have my schedule?" I asked quickly. I needed to study it.

"It will be on your bed with your stuff." She said. "Anything else?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you."

I hurried inside the common room. There was a plate of something on the table. I quickly took off the cover. I smiled, picking up the note and burst out laughing, and then quickly clamped my mouth shut.

I grinned, sitting down with the plate of cookies. I set aside the note.

'Because I remembered you had a sweet tooth. . . First private lesson Wednesday night' -your favorite potions teacher

"Only potions teacher." I muttered under my breath, but I picked the card up again, folded it, and put it in my pocket.

I sighed. I seriously wondered why he treated me so differently from the other students. I mean, he absolutely favored Slytherins, hated Gryffindors, and couldn't care less about Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I wasn't a Slytherin. . . so why. . .

I shook my head and then after I was done eating, I hurried upstairs. Susan, Hannah, Leanne and Megan were all fast asleep. Sadie still wasn't back. I wondered exactly how far dad had traveled. We hadn't discussed it much, he hadn't really wanted to talk about it which had been strange in itself. I usually knew what sort of job he was doing.

I quickly looked over my schedule. I'd have to fix up private lessons with Flitwick and McGonagall. Flitwick had done lessons on Friday. Snape was Wednesday.

I set it aside and quickly crawled under my covers and fell asleep quickly, unable to wait for the next day.

⬅️➡️

[pennycat83]

Dave Miller x Reader

Rescuing a Wet Cat

(In the ever immortal words of the Candy Queen, "No requests, I only do originals!"

I'm working on the full thing on my website, I'll update this with the link once I got the second chapter down.

-P.C)

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Rain lashed at the windows, the cheap florescent strips above twitching with the storm. Most of the abandoned garbage outside slamming against the windows to get in. "So...you got a ride?", "nah", "Godspeed my man". There was a slight snap in how hard their bosses number dial turned to them. "I'm sorry employee,Godspeed, to your boss?", "sub boss, I mean for fucks sake we're 'bout five minutes from joining Dorothy in Oz!".

He looked away, "uh-huh, bus then?", "probably...". They began mentally preparing as the bulbs above went out. "So who's doin' the night shift?", "I 'unno, sucks for them though". The two began making their way down the street, "see ya", "night". They hunkered under the meager shelter above.

'He wasn't in today'. They ignored it to the best of their abilities as they rummaged around in their bag for spare change, but it had been something they kept thinking about. Granted, the less annoyances and 'totally not hanging with me and my psycho dad-boss' missing kids was a blessing for a day, until it dragged into a week. Was he ok? It felt corny to go to his place and check, but after Henry's death the paranoia of his un-ending glare at them whenever they dared linger around the driveway eased down somewhat. 'Ghost's probably gonna fuckin' start tho'.

"Sorry love, the bank gave this place up to us after the owner's kid stop paying". Que? So...wait. They mimicked the same wall eyed processing stare they used to do to annoy Henry as they processed the information. The light from the doorway sliding shut, 'so...he's...homeless?'. They looked around slightly, the rain had let off enough so they weren't slip skating around the sidewalk, but it still irked their hand into clasping against their coat hood. "So then where...".

They skulked around the property slightly. Nothing outstanding aside from the old reeking odor of iron now being washed out by the storm.

They continued checking every corner of the street until they stopped by a convenience store, the dumpster... Sure enough, they hesitantly opened it to reveal a familiar long necked eggplant. What little items he had gotten from Henry were clutched to his chest as he struggled to cover himself with newspaper. "Jesus christ...", they muttered slightly as they opened the lid fully. Most of the rain had already began shifting him in his sleep but after a few shoves he sprung up weilding a photo he had been clutching.

"Yo", "the hell do ya want!", "I mean...". They stood there for a bit. "Oh this? nah it ain't nothing! Jus' ya know, tryna-", "you're sleeping as close as possible to Henry's so you feel like you're still in his place whilst also not gettin' caught by the bank, homeowners or police". "No I'm not...".

They sighed, offering a hand out. "C'mon", "No! I'm doin' great here", "you're sleeping under a literally paper thin copy of Foxy's Bikini ed Bottoms", "I jus' found it ya know?". They stood there. The rain continued mounting weight against Dave's meager form. Without adding another argument they began wandering to the store, "The hell ya goin'?!".

This was eventually answered with an agitated "WHAT!". The door of the store busted open to reveal the shop owner wielding a bat. "Oh shit ohshit-", he scrambled out, chin almost smacking the asphalt. Grabbing as much as possible whilst abandoning his temporary night girl. His form eventually disappeared into the rain leaving the owner to return to his store and Y/N to examine what was left.

It was a photo of him, one of the only ones they had ever seen with the two of them involved, double laminated and all. They grabbed some of the other items he had left, 'Jesus, he's got a ring of knives-', and followed suit. Fortunately, he had always sucked at running long distance so they tackled him quite easily. "GYAH! Seriously Sport!", "got yer pics", "the hell did ya do that for though, I had a good thing goin' with that place, no rent, free food, free girl", "ton of paper cuts though"."You'd be surprised". They grimaced at that notion slightly, "so ya wanna stay at mine then?", "...fine".

Despite relaxing on their sofa, after a slightly awkward audience on the bus and him getting even more drenched, he looked tense. "You want somethin'?", "nah I'm good". A slight gargle ratted him out, "a'ight fine!I ain't had nothin' since the funeral!". They stared at him with that familiar look of concern, "at least not a proper food". "So my supper then?", they raised a plastic container from the fridge as a sacrifice. "It good?", "eh, somethin' I'd like", "I don't wan' it".

After the mystery dish was plated up they stared it. "I definitely don't wan' it", "so...what cereal? don't gotta lot", "I'll just stick with the oxygen in this place". They looked around slightly. The place wasn't even that big to begin with, the bedroom was essentially the main room aside from the kitchen and bucket the landlord insisted was the 'toilet'. They'd tried to hide it with plants and random knickknacks but it just drove home how depressing the space was.

"Y'sure you don'-", "really I'm good, no way to tell I won't just be sick so...", "I mean it's nearly the weekend so ya can risk bein' a lil bit-". "I insist. "The wording took them aback slightly, "so just booze then?", "hell yeah!". "So...how come ya weren't in then?", "ya kiddin' workin' next to Spring Freddie?!". After an awkward change, they had flopped against Dave on the sofa. Legs slumped over the battered arms, "I didn't see ya there though", "I don't mean to offend but that guy PISSED me off! t's always fuggin'...vibes 'n shit with that guy". "Eh, just protective of the place", "it was one Goddamn firework!".

It had been way too long since they had heard Dave's morbid laugh. They flinched slightly but relaxed once he put an arm around their shoulder. "Godamnit I forgot how fuckin' funny ya were Sportsy!". "y'ain't mad?", "eh, I mean....". His upbeat facade faultered slightly as he thought about something.

"what up?", "...nothin' just thinking about how pissed he'd be right now", "what he hate me?", "eh, I mean he hated pretty much anyone who wasn't a help". He looked away, "nah, he just didn't like you that's all". He turned back, jabbing an elbow into Y/N's shoulder. "I'm more surprised I can see fun you!", "what I ain't fun sober?!", "nah the booze just makes ya get more vocal".

The sink drained as they stepped out the bathroom. Just as expected he was already lounging on the bed, "I feel like this'd be a better reason", "what?", "...nothin'". They nudged him over, draping the heated blanket over them. "Wanna swap?", "nah, 'll fall outta bed". He pressed up against their chest slightly, grinding his spine against their ribs, "...f'ne". They draped their arms around him, squeezing his chest as hard as they could. On command, their legs began tangling around his slightly. He instantly melted, the weight of his body dropping against them slightly. To complete he managed to move his neck, twisting it to them. "Not t'night...". He completely ignored the plea and planted his extensive neck against their chest.

"aww yeah...Sportsy pillow". He slurred his words slightly, the exhaust of the week finally taking it's toll. They sighed, petting his slightly squishy head.

They didn't really care if he smelt like shit and was, essentially, a stray. He was their's, and that's all that mattered.

[wellpresseddaisy]

Long Ago (and far away) Part 16

He'd made a terrible mistake. He couldn't, wouldn't expose himself in such a public manner. It had all gone to his head, clearly, that had to be it. Changing his clothing, his hair, and for what? A man? How had it come to this...this unbearable exposure?

Wasn't writing to Narcissa enough? Merlin…there'd be newspaper advertisements. He'd even started calling him Dare. He'd been made too comfortable, too…oh, he didn't know.

"Severus, I only asked what you had decided for your surname?" Minerva asked gently. 

"Best stick with Snape, for now." Dare answered for him. "Please breathe, Severus. You won't do anyone any good if you faint into your eggs."

"I...yes." He pulled himself together. "I am sorry, Minerva. Snape will remain my surname for the moment."

"The door will open when it's time. Most students should be at breakfast by now." And Minerva was gone from the anteroom. 

"Second thoughts?" Dare asked gently.

"I've kept my personal life absolutely private for so many years. This is...an adjustment." Though his Slytherins seemed thrilled by his new status, and promised to behave perfectly after extracting a promise of Dare as a visitor for tea on Saturday.

The door popped open and Severus took Dare's proffered arm. 

"We'll get through this, pet. Together."

"Of course." Severus breathed deeply and stepped through the door to stunned silence and a new chapter.

Perhaps seeing the headmaster choke on his toast was worth the near panic, all things considered.

--------------------------

"You will not need cauldrons today." Severus strode through the door to the Potions classroom, robes flowing behind him. The door slammed behind him; half the class jumped. "You will need your preparation kit available. Have them out and unrolled. We are having an inspection."

The second year Slytherin/Gryffindor class stared at him. With Malfoy away and Potter still tucked up in the infirmary, he expected more compliance than rebellion.

"Now." He was not in the mood for rebellion. Not after his NEWT class spent their two hours laboratory period surreptitiously checking him for compulsions.

A general rustling greeted his command as his students unrolled their kits. He stepped up to the platform where his desk sat and paced the length of it, just watching. 

"There are going to be some…" he began, sweeping across the front of the platform. Two steps to the far end while the silence stretched, pivot, and, "changes in our curriculum. I have the...pleasure...of a class that includes children who will be leaders in our world in a terrifyingly few years. I will not send you out into the world ignorant of the difference between a mince and a dice or ground and powdered. This year, we will make a thorough study of ingredient preparation, how that preparation influences the properties in a potion, and why keeping your kit in good order is vital to your success."

He stepped down to sweep through the aisles, appreciating the way his new robes twisted and flared with each pivot.

"Miss Parkinson." He stopped at the station she shared with Greengrass. 

"Yes sir?" She pushed her kit forward a bit, clearly expecting praise in the absence of Draco.

"Why does your kit look as if it were last maintained in June?" She deflated a bit. "Why does everyone's kit look as if it were last maintained in June? Except Granger's." He added the last grudgingly. Of course hers looked pristine and properly maintained.

A general shuffling and looking at the benchtops commenced. Some had the excuse of living in the non-magical world, at least.

"This class period will be spent cleaning and sharpening your tools. Once your tools are in an acceptable state, we will begin making the caps which will be mandatory whilst we brew later this term. I will also assign you your new partner. I will not have you leave Hogwarts unable to work together. If you cannot, after this year, successfully brew a potion with your assigned partner, then I weep for the future of our world. For what will happen in our halls of commerce, the Wizengamot, and the Wizard's Council if all you do is argue?"

Further general shuffling greeted his words. He wondered for a moment if any of them had heard such a speech before. Dumbledore would prattle on about cooperation and letting rivalries go, and then hand a few hundred points to Gryffindor. Perhaps a miserable bastard goading them into cooperation would have better luck. Children were a perverse lot. 

"I asked a question of you." They jumped at his emphasis. 

Granger put up her hand because of course she did. 

"Miss Bulstrode, can you give an answer?" For all her organizational abilities and leadership qualities, Millicent remained quiet in most classes. 

"We will fail as a society if we can't work together toward a common goal and a common good."

"Thank you, Miss Bulstrode, that was a thoughtful answer. Miss Granger, do you wish to add something?" Best let her get it out of her system.

"I agree with Bulstrode. We see the same thing in the Muggle world, people not working together. It deadlocks everything. But in a smaller world, on a smaller scale, it could be disastrous."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Theo Nott turned in his seat to glare at her. 

Severus leaned back against his desk and watched. He hadn't meant to start this so soon, but it was encouraging to see Bulstrode and Granger agree. Given both sets of parents actually worked, it seemed they had a grasp on economics. At least of a sort.

"Well, who supplies the grain for the food supply? Or the vegetables? Or livestock? Who provides cloth and leather for clothing and shoes? Or wood pulp for paper manufacture? Who does the manufacturing? If one of those things is done by one family or one small group, then you get a monopoly. If the people with the monopoly disagree with the Ministry, then perhaps some goods or materials won't make it to market." Granger's questions held the pent-up frustration of a child who never got the answers she wanted. At least on this topic.

"Well, yes." Nott agreed. "But it isn't a small world. Merlin's sake, don't you know about the Great Workings?"

"The what?" Granger asked. "The wizarding world is tucked into spaces the muggle one doesn't know about. That's what we were told."

"We live in an exact copy of the non-magical world, Granger. Places like Diagon are entry points. It's a shopping arcade to make the transition easier, not the whole. And we say magical and non-magical. Wizardry is a branch of magical study, not a gender." Nott explained. "Although you wouldn't know that with the way some carry on."

Granger went white. "No one…we weren't…there weren't any books…"

"Come to the library with me after class." Nott offered, long-suffering. "We'll get that sorted out. It's a general offer for anyone who'd like to come and I'm only making it once."

"If my family took offense to the way much of the English Wizarding community treats my mother and withheld goods from market, there would be precious little cloth available." Bulstrode turned the topic to something very slightly less fraught. "My family supplies, either through end-to-end manufacture or import, the majority of the wool, linen, and silk available in England and Scotland."

"And...and the Longbottoms supply a g...great deal of the potions ingredients t...to market." Longbottom stuttered. "Mostly through cultivation, but also through wild collection. Also, P-Professor, Gryffindor wishes you very happy. So does House Longbottom, I'm sure."

And wasn't that a turn up for the books. Longbottom actually remembering and using what his family did. 

"Two points to Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom, for a pertinent and timely addition to a class discussion. And thank you for the well wishes." He awarded points rarely, and usually to make a point. His Slytherins and Longbottom gaped. "And you can work on your kit as you talk. I will allow this discussion."

"Why don't we learn any of this? If I'm expected to live in the Wiz—magical world as a productive member of society, why am I not learning how any of it works? Beyond 'oh, well, we have a Ministry'. What does it all do?" Granger, thankfully, put the attention of all back to the discussion.

He'd thought it would be Granger who brought the appalling ignorance of the non-magical students to light, in re: the magical world, and the other Heads now owed him three free evenings and an extra free weekend.

And four galleons, but the free time was worth much more than that.

"What do you mean you don't…" Bulstrode began, running one of her knives over a whetstone as she spoke. "Please don't tell me that you come to Hogwarts ignorant of the entire magical world?"

"We didn't even get a pamphlet. Professor Vector visited my family to explain, and told us it was a great deal like Eton, but more old fashioned. That was it." Dean Thomas backed Granger. 

"What's an Eton?" Parkinson asked.

"It's a traditional non-magical boarding school for boys. A lot of them go on to government posts." Thomas explained, polishing a newly sharpened knife. 

"But there's so much we don't know! And when you ask older students, you just get fobbed off to the library or told you'll pick it up as you go. How is anyone supposed to 'pick it up' if--"

"Miss Granger! Kindly cease windmilling your arms. I will not have my record of no serious injuries besmirched by your carelessness!" He interrupted when it looked like her passionate speech would have Weasley's eye out.

"Sorry, sir. Sorry, Ron." Granger hunched over her desk, cheeks pink.

"But I think the class would like to hear the rest of your question." Severus prompted.

"Well, if no one will even tell me what's wrong with the uniform or anything, how am I supposed to get any other information about magical culture? I hear the whispers after all the girls like me. We're not deaf to gossip. And there isn't anything helpful in the library. I've looked." 

"The skirts are indecent." Parkinson answered. "They're too short with an open robe, to start with, since we're twelve…"

"Thirteen, actually." Granger interrupted.

"Well, that's even more reason for longer clothes, then, especially since you've not even got a petticoat on, if you're going to wear skirts. And the kneesocks. No one wanders about with their knees out, no matter their gender."

"Whyever not?"

"Because any part of you can be used in a potion, even the tiniest bits. That's why we all wear long sleeves and high collars and long whatever you might wear on your bottom half. Which, Patil and Brown, why didn't you explain any of this?" And there was the Pansy Slytherin knew and felt variably about.

"She wasn't interested and 'it was the school-issued kit'." Brown let her voice go shrill and mocking at the last bit.

"That's no reason to be appallingly rude, you know." Parkinson shot back. "If it's not knowing because neither the school nor any of the other Houses explain, then it's not them trying to rub their ways in our faces. I'm certain Mother will wish to know of this lapse on Hogwart's part."

"And I'll take a point, Miss Brown, for your rudeness." Severus cut in. "I will take up the matter of the woeful preparation of those raised in the non-magical world with the other house heads."

"It would have been nice to know before we got here, so we weren't offending anyone without even knowing how or why. Thought it was my skin color for ages." Thomas reorganized his kit.

"The current approach, Mr. Thomas, will change. I will speak to the other heads regarding a tutorial for those raised in the non-magical world. Now, before we move on to less fraught topics, and yes, Miss Granger, your questions will be answered, I will inspect your work. Mr. Weasley, you will remain behind at the end of class, please."

With that bombshell dropped, he swept among the rows of students with much to consider. He'd gone through his career thinking that only the Halfbloods received no information regarding the magical world. Inwardly, he sighed and added 'write a primer on the magical world geared towards the non-magically raised' to his ever-growing list of things to do. 

"Now that you have done what you ought to have been doing, we will move on. From now until the last NEWT exam, you will wear a brewing cap. These are to keep your hair out of the cauldron and the fumes off your hair. I've brought one for each of you to get you started. Part of your preparation for the next class includes putting your own cap together. You will find everything you need to make a cap in the bag, including instructions." He moved through the room, passing a cap and a bag of supplies to each student. "You may wish to work on these with your new partners."

Severus returned to the dais and steeled himself. This part could be touchy. At least Nott and Parkinson seemed inclined to behave. That should keep the rest of them quiet. He hoped. 

"For the last item of the day, I am assigning your partners for this year. This may not be easy for you, but I expect each and every one of you to work with your partner and without complaint. Pair up and stand at the side of the room when I call your names."

[wytfut]

“Have you read the news today? Oh boy!” ... Beatles

I know I’m set in my ways ... and this makes me appear as an old curmudgeon.

But by golly, I enjoy a good news paper (actual paper), sitting down with breakfast or coffee and catching up on the world. 

WWW it appears has ruined all of this. Lots of folks believe everything they read... and www is most likely the worst place to do this. 

Unreliable sources... that mimmick “old school” news. I think I found a source on www, .... ABC.news .... not sure. It wasn’t really ABC. Because they added the “.”, they got away from the copyright issues. And that news was horrible at best.  Something to the tune of the rags they used to sell at the grocery store cash registers, ie, National Enquirer. It wasn’t ABC, it was some other company who loop holed the copy right by adding a “.”???  Well it wasn’t ABC. 

Paper newspaper got too expensive for us..... $68/month. And we went “e”. The journal start “e” is now jumping to almost $30/month. Several pages of this is from the day before reprinted. WHAT?? Why at $30/month do I want to reread part of yesterday’s news? Most of the time, its rewrite, of some article that doesn’t pertain to nothing,.... more of a self help article...    

With no sources of news being completely reliable, it makes a guy gun shy about coughing up any money. From where I sit, does anyone back up what they are reporting anymore? 

long side story:

I was a paper boy. I hand delivered papers daily on my sting ray schwinn. Foul weather and all. In the beginning it was $1.10/month (not sunday). From there it went to $2.20 including sunday. And about the time I done with my career, it had jumped to $4.40. Folks thought that was outrageous. 

Sunday and Wednesday papers were ass kickers .... sometimes 2 loads to deliver, as I couldn’t get them all in my “paper bags”.  Sunday was delivered in the morning before sun up. And the rest before 5:30 pm. I subbed before all of this the Lincoln Star (before journal star became one), which was a morning paper, for about a year. . (humor sidenote, both printed same building, just different names, representing different time delivered). . 

I remember some of my customers being total jerks about paying for the paper... and would go months without paying. Those days the paperboy would have to go to their home to collect the monthly payments. One customer owed me 4 months (getting close to $10...). Pop decided to help out, and tagged along in Uniform. 

They leaped out of their comfy chair and immediately paid. I still chuckle with that memory. 

I’d pick up my papers at the S W corner of Cotner and Adams. One sunday morning before sun up, a car come flying down Cotner, and couldn’t make the curve (too fast). The Cekja house was right there at the apex of the curve. The car lost it, and rolled a couple of times and crashed into a huge old Elm tree on the Cekja property. 

Me being pretty young was totally terrified.... grabbed my bundle of papers and hi tailed it home. Scared shitless no less.

I heard as soon as the car had quit moving, the driver try and start it back up. Got it started, and moved on down Cotner.  

About the same time I got into the house, I saw the car coming down 68th. I was positive the driver was looking for me (get rid of the witnesses). So I turned off all the lites in the house, and hid on the floor. Sure as shit the car came around to our side of the “ditch” heading right for our home. 

Car was running horribly, flat tire or 2, steel grinding some wheres..... and putted on by our house, and stopped at the neighbors. 

Turned out, it was the neighbor. All drunked up, missed the turn on Adams. But got his car home and stumbled into the house. ... 

We are going to give up on the journal star.... and I’m looking around for a good news source that is within my budget....

Cuz Jorika suggests NPR and/or Nebraska Public Media “app”. Alexa has failed me miserably, as well as Amazon. 

I listen to a lot of podcasts.... mostly when I’m pedaling “no where”. Really like “democracy now” but no local news. 

Thanx Jo.... I’ll give your idea a go. 

[newspaper-advertisement]

[oral-history]

WHY AUDIO NEVER GOES VIRAL Is This Thing On? (One of the Best Pieces Ever)

Stan Alcorn

· Jan 15, 2014

With a community of creators uncomfortable with the value of virality, an audience content to watch grainy dashcam videos, and platforms that discourage sharing, is a hit-machine for audio possible? And is it something anyone even wants?

Skip Dolphin Hursh

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Last October, several dozen audiophiles gathered in a basement auditorium for an all-day conference about “the future of radio in a digital age.” Reddit founder Alexis Ohanian finished a talk he’s been giving to college campuses about the Internet and the transformative power it can unleash when it mobilizes a mass of people around an idea, a video, a website, a tweet. When he took questions, I asked: Why does the Internet so rarely mobilize around audio? What would it take to put audio on the Reddit front page?

Ohanian leaned back, contemplating the question, apparently for the first time. “That’s interesting,” he said. “I’m thinking of a lot of the viral content.” You could practically see the memes and GIFs pass across his brain. He started to point out that most viral videos are under three minutes, while the best audio storytelling was usually longer, but interrupted himself with a story about Upworthy.

When the founders pitched him on their plan — to make “socially good content” “go viral” — Ohanian invested “out of passion,” not because he thought it would work. Now Upworthy is one of the fastest growing media properties on the Internet. Sure, sound may not go viral today, but Ohanian is optimistic. “Probably someone here in the audience is going to show us all wrong,” he said, “and a year from now we’re going to look at the Upworthy for audio."

“So go make it.”

Easier said than done.

Cat Video Vs. The Cat’s Meow

Bianca Giaever has always been obsessed with radio. As a child, while she biked her newspaper delivery route, she listened to an iPod loaded exclusively with episodes of WBEZ’s “This American Life.” At Middlebury College, she stalked her classmates, dragging them to her dorm room to record interviews she edited into stories for the college station and smaller audiences online. “I was fully planning on working in radio,” she says. “My whole life.” That is until, the day after graduation, she became a viral video star.

When she painstakingly crafted moving audio narratives, her parents and brother listened. When she added video to her final college project, “The Scared is Scared” — a 6-year-old’s dream movie brought to life — “It just. Blew. Up.”

“At first I was like, ‘Wow. A lot of people are sharing this on Facebook,’” she recalls thinking, “‘I have such nice friends!’” Then it was friends of friends. Then strangers. By the time websites like Mashable and CBS News picked it up, she could only picture the audience as a number. Waiting on the tarmac for her post-grad vacation to begin, she watched on her phone as that number spiked into the thousands, then hundreds of thousands, seemingly crashing the site that hosted it. “These French people were yelling — because I had my phone on as we were taking off — that I was going to kill them,” she recalls. “They were like, ‘Is whatever you’re doing worth our possible death?’ And I was like, ‘Maybe? This is the biggest thing that’s happened in my life!’”

Of the 100 most-shared news articles on Facebook, three were from NPR, but none included audio. Two of these were reblogs of YouTube videos.

I’m a public radio reporter and this doesn’t happen in my milieu. There is no Google Sound, no BuzzFeed for audio, no obvious equivalent of Gangnam Style, Grumpy Cat or Doge. If you define “viral” as popularity achieved through social sharing, and audio as sound other than music, even radio stations’ most viral content isn’t audio — it’s video. A 17-minute video interview with Miley Cyrus at Hot 97 has nearly 2 million views. An off-the-rails BBC Radio 1 video interview with Mila Kunis: more than 12 million. In June 2013, the list of the 100 most-shared news articles on Facebook included three from NPR, but none included audio. Two of these stories were reblogs of YouTube videos (this one and this one), found on Gawker and Reddit.

“Audio never goes viral,” writes radio and podcast producer Nate DiMeo. “If you posted the most incredible story — literally, the most incredible story that has ever been told since people have had the ability to tell stories, it will never, ever get as many hits as a video of a cat with a moustache.”

It’s hardly a fair fight, audio vs. cat video, but it’s the one that’s fought on Facebook every day. DiMeo’s glum conclusion is an exaggeration of what Giaever reads as the moral of her own story: “People will watch a bad video more than [they will listen to] good audio,” she says.

Those in the Internet audio business tend to give two explanations for this disparity. “The greatest reason is structural,” says Jesse Thorn, who hosts a public radio show called “Bullseye” and runs a podcast network called Maximum Fun. “Audio usage takes place while you’re doing something else.” You can listen while you drive or do the dishes, an insuperable competitive advantage over text or video, which transforms into a disadvantage when it comes to sharing the listening experience with anyone out of earshot. “When you’re driving a car, you’re not going to share anything,” says Thorn.

The second explanation is that you can’t skim sound. An instant of video is a still, a window into the action that you can drag through time at will. An instant of audio, on the other hand, is nothing. “If I send someone an article, if they see the headline and read a few things, they know what I want them to know,” a sound artist and radio producer told me. “If I send someone audio, they have to, like… listen to it.” It’s a lot to ask of an Internet audience.

For some radio makers, social media incompatibility is a sign of countercultural vitality. Thorn has called his own work “anti-viral,” and believes that entertaining his niche audience is “still so much better than making things that convince aunts to forward them to each other.”

“That’s A-U-N-T-S,” he clarifies.

But when I suggest the situation doesn’t seem to concern him, he interrupts, “To say that it doesn’t concern me — it concerns me profoundly. I think about it all the time.” In his view, social media warps our consumption patterns, and not for the better. “It’s a serious problem in my life. And not just in my media-making life, in my day-to-day life.”

After Giaever’s video went viral, she turned down an internship at “This American Life” — “my dream since I was nine” — to become a “filmmaker in residence” for Adobe. She gets paid to make her own movies, which she still approaches as radio stories with added visuals. It’s the proven way to get people on the Internet to listen. “The entire concept of what I’m doing seems problematic to me,” she says. “What’s so beautiful about radio is you can’t compete with what people are imagining in their heads, right? And yet I still continue to do it.”

Because audio doesn’t go viral.

Except that sometimes, it does.

Kids Say The Darndest Things

Most viral audio wasn’t intended for the Internet. Recordings made for some other purpose are excerpted and uploaded: voicemails, speeches, and calls to 911 and customer service hotlines.

One category of viral audio is the document, bits of audio that serve as evidence in a news story. It’s easy to imagine text transcripts being distributed in audio’s absence: Bradley Manning’s testimony, the 911 calls of the Trayvon Martin case, Obama’s oft-quoted “clinging to guns and religion.” The primary advantage of audio over text is that it lets the listener confirm a quote with her own ears and determine if meaning is altered by nuances of emphasis or emotion.

Another category of viral audio is the rant or comic diatribe, where emphasis and emotion are the entire point. For instance, an irate San Francisco Chronicle reader chewing out the editor for referring to a “pilotless drone,” or a voicemail becomes an increasingly laugh-filled narration of the aftermath of a car crash. A transcript of these would be like lyrics without a melody.

Somewhere in between these two is a subcategory that could be called “celebrities gone wild”: Alec Baldwin cursing out his 11-year-old daughter, Christian Bale cursing out his director of photography, Mel Gibson cursing out his ex-girlfriend, etc.

These brief, emotional, sometimes-newsworthy clips of people speaking have cousins in viral video. In fact, the two are sometimes difficult to distinguish. Mitt Romney’s infamous “47% comment” was captured and distributed as a video featuring blurry donors’ backs. A recent viral “video” titled, “Potty Talk! [Original] 3 year old contemplates the effects of his diet on the toilet” is merely a shaky shot of a bathroom door. When documenting a primarily auditory event from the vantage point of a single recording device, adding a video camera to the microphone gives slightly more information, and the advantage of keeping the eyes occupied.

But these amateur, one-shot videos are a small and shrinking section of the viral video pool. “We’re seeing a lot more professional work in [the viral video] space, and I don’t just mean advertisers,” says YouTube trends manager Kevin Allocca. The “top trending videos” of 2013 were all intentionally shot and edited for an Internet audience: music videos (“What Does The Fox Say?”) and ads (Volvo’s “epic split” with Jean-Claude Van Damme) but also low-budget productions like the Norwegian army’s “Harlem Shake.” They all have had over 90 million views.

Analogous audio — deliberately constructed and virally distributed — is a rarer and more recent phenomenon.

Ask a public radio journalist for an example of viral audio, and one piece comes up again and again: “Two Little Girls Explain The Worst Haircut Ever.” It’s two minutes and fifty seven seconds of cute, as five-year-old Sadie and three-year-old Eva tell the story of an ill-advised haircut to their patient interviewer and father, WNPR reporter Jeff Cohen. For public radio, Cohen has covered gangs, unemployment, and the aftermath of the mass shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary school. He won a magazine writing award for a story in the Hartford Courant about Connecticut’s first Iraq war widow.

“I’ve done a lot of work as a reporter that I’m pretty proud of,” he says. “I will never be recognized for anything for the rest of my life, except for this.”

It, too, resembles a viral video: it’s short, self-contained and driven by cute children. But not only does it lack any images of said children, it isn’t a straightforward record of what unfolded in front of the microphone. Cohen recorded two interviews, one with each daughter, and then carefully edited them into a fast-paced, seamless whole. Unlike Alec Baldwin’s voicemail, “Two Little Girls” is a showcase of audio’s power to create what appears to be an unedited version of reality, but is in fact a tightly constructed story, with a beginning, middle and end.

To explain why millions of people have listened to “Two Little Girls” — and why this is still so exceptional — you have to look at its convoluted path to fame.

What We Mean When We Talk About ‘Viral’

Taken literally, “viral” brings to mind an infectious agent bumping around inside its host, spreading accidentally by breath or touch. When “viral marketing” emerged in the 1990s, the medical referent was apt. The disease vector typically took the form of email and “virals” — as such ads were then called — that lived in the inbox. Invisible to the wider world, they spread from individual to individual, as when Hotmail stuck a sign-up ad beneath its users’ signatures. Or when the movie “American Psycho” sent compulsively forwardable emails from its psychotic main character, Patrick Bateman.

Today, those seeking to “go viral” have the same essential goal — to increase their audience by reaching the audience’s audience (and their audience, ad infinitum) — but the web has changed beyond the dynamics of disease transmission. Instead of invisible, one-to-one emails, today’s Internet infections spread by a cascade of publicly visible, one-to-many “likes,” “shares,” “tweets,” and “reblogs,” accelerated and amplified by an expanding web publishing industry. “Sharing” implies a deliberate effort, but social media sharing skews toward a mix of self-representation and what Tumblr creative technologist Max Sebela refers to as “speaking in content”: You might share Rebecca Black’s “Friday,” not because you want people to watch the video, but to make a joke about the fact that today is Friday.

“How does it happen,” YouTube’s Kevin Allocca asked in a 2011 speech called “Why Videos Go Viral.” “Three things: tastemakers, communities of participation, and unexpectedness.”

Tastemakers are like virus broadcasters, picking up outstanding, or “unexpected,” Internet phenomena that might otherwise never spread beyond their initial communities, and spraying their spores onto larger followings.

For Cohen’s “Two Little Girls,” the key tastemaker, without whom it may well have languished in Internet obscurity, was Gawker’s Neetzan Zimmerman. (Note: I spoke with Zimmerman before he announced his plans to leave Gawker to become editor-in-chief of a social network startup called Whisper.)

Zimmerman is the closest thing to a one-man embodiment of what he calls “the viral industry.” When Gawker hired him in early 2012, his boss A.J. Daulerio approvingly called him, “a total freak” for his ability to methodically scour the corners of the Internet for the video, memes, and Internet ephemera that would grow to popularity after being seeded with Gawker’s audience. “Before I used to do basically 20 hours a day,” Zimmerman says. “Now there’s a night shift, so I don’t have to worry as much.” In the last three months of 2013, his posts were responsible for more than half of Gawker’s pageviews and two thirds of the site’s unique visitors — nearly 40 million in total — according to Gawker’s public stats. For comparison, that’s more than 1/3 of the traffic of the entire the New York Times website.

Zimmerman’s work is a more extreme version of the new, upside-down dynamic of web publishing. Instead of the publisher’s megaphone guaranteeing its articles an audience, the publisher only has an audience insofar as the articles “go viral.” Tens of thousands of readers see most of the dozen items Zimmerman posts each day, but millions see his blockbusters.

For those hits, the content and the clickbait headline are as important as the timing. He describes “going viral” like surfing: boarding a wave at the earliest possible point. “You don’t want to wait too long because you’ll miss that initial cresting,” he says. “It’s a race against everyone else.”

Zimmerman chooses what to cover by scanning for signs of that wave rather than looking deeply at the constituent molecules of content. “The way the system works is I keep a mental note of instances of occurrence on a certain tier of sites,” he says. This lets him identify “viral momentum,” even when his personal judgment might suggest otherwise. “The purpose of the system is to override my biases and to override whatever personal feelings I have.”

Sometimes this lets Zimmerman not only beat the competition, but also popularize something that might otherwise never bubble into the mainstream from a less-trafficked corner of the Internet. But the system — Zimmerman’s and that of the “viral industry” more generally — has an obvious bias of its own toward content that is already being shared on the Internet.

For Bianca Giaever’s “Scared” video, first college and radio friends shared it on Facebook, then Vimeo made it a “staff pick,” then major media websites like CBS News, BuzzFeed, Jezebel and Mashable blogged about it. Within three days, hundreds of thousands were watching.

For Cohen, it took four months, and a lot of luck.

‘Invisible As the Radio Waves Themselves’

Jeff Cohen had interviewed his daughters many times, in the same way other fathers shoot home videos. “I’m sappy that way,” he says. But he thought enough of the haircut piece to play it for colleagues at the radio station. “It was about five minutes long, and my boss and friends said, ‘Cut it down to three minutes and put it on PRX.’”

PRX is the Public Radio Exchange, and as the name suggests, its website is a marketplace where station managers shop for stories. After Cohen uploaded his new, tighter version of “Two Little Girls” in February of 2012, it was discovered and licensed by a handful of local stations: KOSU in central Oklahoma, KUT in west Texas, KSJD in southwest Colorado.

But to the Internet, all this was invisible as the radio waves themselves. “PRX is designed as a business-to-business marketplace,” says PRX CEO Jake Shapiro. “We’re not designed for listeners… yet.”

The circuitous route that “Two Little Girls” took to Gawker didn’t start with PRX, but at a monthly event called “Ear Cave” hosted by one of Cohen’s colleagues at a coffee shop in Hartford, Connecticut. “I call it BYOB, BYOE,” says the event’s creator Catie Talarski. “Bring Your Own Beer, Bring Your Own Ear.” She dims the lights, sets up chairs, and projects a photograph of an old radio, so the audience has something to look at while a chosen curator presses play on a laptop. That April, “Two Little Girls” was the grand finale.

“It was just a huge hit,” recalls Adam Prizio, an insurance auditor who was in the audience that night. Two months later, Prizio, with the voices of Eva and Sadie bouncing around his head, decided to google it. Finding the audio on PRX, he posted a link to community blog MetaFilter, with no description other than a mysterious quote (“It happens three times in every life. Or twice. Or once.”) and the categorization “SLAudio,” a riff on “SLYT” (Single Link YouTube).

Overnight, the comments swelled. “Amazing.” “Adorable.” “Better than the Car Guys.” “OH MY GOD THIS IS FUCKING BALLER.” There were fewer comments than a link published ten minutes later — “Fundamentalist Christian schools in Louisiana will soon be citing the existence of the Loch Ness monster as proof that evolution is a myth” — but they were comments of single-minded delight. The next morning, Zimmerman saw the thread in his morning Internet regimen, and within an hour had put up his own post that would go on to gather some 1.3 million views entitled, “Public Radio Reporter Interviews His Two Little Girls After One Gives the Other the ‘Worst Haircut Ever.’”

“It didn’t really matter that it was audio,” says Zimmerman. “It was more about how it was being received online.”

In one sense, it followed the same trajectory as all viral content, or what YouTube’s Kevin Allocca has defined as a combination of “community participation” and “tastemakers.” Something becomes popular in a niche community, whose public enthusiasm attracts the notice of a tastemaker, who then repackages it to suit a larger audience, where the entire process repeats on a larger scale.

But really “Two Little Girls” succeeded in spite of its immediate community. Cohen first had to be convinced to put it online at all, and even then it was on a website searched only by public radio station managers. While Cohen says it made the rounds of his Facebook friends, it only took off after audio enthusiasts heard it at a coffee shop.

Compared to other media, even young, tech-savvy audiophiles are less likely to share audio on a weekly basis, and when they do, they’re more likely to use email instead of social media.

The barriers that nearly blocked “Two Little Girls” from finding a larger audience are a mix of culture and technology. While home videos make the leap to YouTube all the time, audio makers tend to keep their scraps to themselves. When I took an unscientific poll (n=60), it backed up what I heard anecdotally: Compared to other media, even young, tech-savvy audiophiles are less likely to share audio on a weekly basis, and when they do, they’re more likely to use email instead of social media.

Several echoed the sentiment of occasional radio producer Laura Griffin, who said, “I tend to assume that most people don’t have the same patience and appreciation for audio that I do, so I am selective about what audio I share and with whom.”

Others pointed to technological limitations. The files themselves are large and often forbid downloading. Audio-hosting websites employ an inconsistent potpourri of players, many of which disallow the embedding that has helped make online video ubiquitous. (Some PRX audio can be embedded, but Gawker had enough trouble with its player that they uploaded the audio into their own.) “I often don’t share NPR audio because their player isn’t embeddable and requires going to another website to listen,” notes multimedia producer Will Coley.

There is one standard format for distributing digital audio, but rather than resolving these barriers to sharing, it may be their most perfect expression: the podcast.

The Podcast Problem

If you don’t know what a podcast is, you’re in the majority.

Technically, it’s an RSS feed containing links to files (“podcast” typically implies an audio file). Using podcast-listening (formerly “podcatching”) software, you can “subscribe,” setting your computer or smartphone to automatically download the new and get rid of the old.

It’s hard to appreciate in 2013 the enthusiasm with which this simple idea was met by the mid-2000s media.

“I haven’t seen this much buzz around a single word since the Internet,” computer programmer Carl Franklin told the New York Times in 2004.

By letting everyone become broadcasters (or really “podcasters”), it was supposed to disrupt radio in a way that was predicted to parallel that other online media format with a horrible portmanteau name: blogging. In fact, the name “podcast” was tossed off by the Guardian's Ben Hammersley between the alternatives “audioblogging” and “GuerillaMedia.”

It wasn’t all hype. Anyone can start a podcast, just as anyone can blog. The podcast did close the loop, in its clunky way, between where people download and where they typically listen. And aficionados can point to a long list of programs, especially covering technology and — more recently — comedy, which never would have existed otherwise.

12% of Americans listened to a podcast in the last month, the same percentage as three years ago.

But while much of online publishing now takes the form of the blog, interest in podcasting seems to have flatlined. According to Nielsen Audio (formerly Arbitron), 12% of Americans listened to a podcast in the last month, the same percentage as three years ago. It is a substantial niche, but smaller than the percentage of people who create online videos, and less than a sixth the number who watch them.

“There was a huge wave of initial excitement around podcasting changing and disrupting and turning upside-down radio seven years ago, or longer,” says PRX’s Jake Shapiro. “And then it kind of just petered out.”

While the number of podcasts has proliferated, the vast majority of episodes have audiences in the double or triple digits, judging from the experience of podcast hosting giant Libsyn. “If you want to do the average, our mean podcast? Now you’re looking at like 200, 250 downloads per episode,” Libsyn’s Rob Walch told NextMarket Insights's Michael Wolf. The majority of top podcasts, far from being grassroots disruptors, are major public radio shows: “This American Life,” “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me,” and “Radiolab.” It’s the dominant way of finding an on-demand audio audience on the Internet, but it’s more Hulu than YouTube.

The absence of disruption is, in part, baked into the technology. “It’s clearly the number one barrier to wider listenership,” says Jesse Thorn. Apple gave the format a big boost when it brought it into the iTunes store in 2005, but that walled garden of a market has come to delimit the podcast’s reach. To watch a YouTube video, you click play, wherever it exists on the web. With another click you can immediately share it by putting a player in the feed of your Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, or even LinkedIn accounts.

To listen to a podcast, however, you have to search for it on an app or in the iTunes store, sign up for it, wait for it to download. (Of course there are other ways to download podcasts, but the majority of podcast downloads occur through Apple.) Click “share” on Apple’s podcasting app, and you’ll be prompted to post an RSS feed, which is a bit like trying to share a new Tom Junod article and instead passing on a password that readers can use to subscribe to Esquire.

These hurdles don’t hamper podcasts that are already well known. Thorn’s podcast audience has been growing steadily by approximately 50% each year. “Radiolab” and “This American Life” — public radio shows that are among the most popular podcasts and the aesthetic guiding lights for young public radio producers — are both approaching a million digital listens for each new episode. For these shows, the occasional episode will get shared more than others, but that “viral” bump is on the order of 10 to 20 percent, and even that seems driven less by social media than old-fashioned word of mouth. “Google is a much bigger referrer to any given episode [than Facebook],” says WNYC’s Jennifer Houlihan Roussel. In other words, podcasts don’t go viral. Nor are they designed to.

As the Guardian’s technology editor, Charles Arthur, points out in the Independent back in 2005, “Podcasts take content and put it into a form that can’t be indexed by search engines or be speed-read, and which you can’t hyperlink to (or from). A podcast sits proud of the flat expanse of the Internet like a poppy in a field. Until we get really good automatic speech-to-text converters, such content will remain outside the useful, indexable web.”

A Cloud Atlas?

If there is any company attempting to create a modern web alternative to the podcast, it’s SoundCloud.

“Podcasting: It’s a fairly old school method of distribution,” says its co-founder and CTO Eric Wahlforss. “We are certainly of the opinion that SoundCloud is the superior way of broadcasting your show across the web.”

If you’ve played audio from Facebook, Twitter or Tumblr, you’ve likely seen it: the slow crawl of orange across a gray waveform. This omnipresent, embeddable player is what has most clearly attracted the moniker “YouTube for audio.” Hoping to make sound as sharable as video, SoundCloud delivers this content via a streaming player instead of a dressed-up file download.

In a Facebook message, data scientist Lada Adamic told me: “Soundcloud does seem to have a lot of sharing activity (everything is dwarfed by YouTube but soundcloud is holding its own) [sic].” SoundCloud was the 11th most commonly submitted domain on Reddit as of March 27, 2013, according to Reddit data scientist Chad Birch, above the Huffington Post, the Guardian and Vimeo. The number of YouTube domains submitted was almost 22 times as high.

But the SoundCloud content accumulating most on social media isn’t what the company calls “audio.” “In our world, in terms of viral content, the real viral content is actually music,” Wahlforss says.

For non-music “audio,” SoundCloud lets broadcasters and podcasters have it both ways, encouraging them to make their shows available on SoundCloud’s platform, while also creating a podcast-ready RSS feed. “We are trying to blur that distinction a little bit,” says Wahlforss.

“We’re on SoundCloud because they have a nice player for sharing on Facebook and Twitter,” says Seth Lind of “This American Life.” But the total plays of their hour-long episodes on SoundCloud peak at roughly 3% of its digital listenership, and are usually under 1%, hovering around 5,000. A look at SoundCloud’s “trending audio” page presents a similar picture: podcast episodes and radio shows, with listenership in the hundreds or low thousands.

Clearly, technology alone doesn’t ensure the virality of an hour-long show with a headline designed for consistency rather than clickability (e.g.: “#513: 129 Cars” from “This American Life”). “It’s probably not going to be as popular as a Gangnam Style,” Lind notes, dryly. The audio that has gone viral takes a different tact: short, tailored specifically for SoundCloud, and providing a near-immediate pay-off that fulfills the headline’s promise.

Much of it is some mix of rant and newsworthy document, like AOL’s Tim Armstrong firing Patch’s creative director, or Charles Ramsey’s 911 call after he helped rescue three kidnapped women in Cleveland.

But the most heard, and most truly social example of SoundCloud’s viral audio is a New Zealand radio host’s dramatic reading of a series of text messages from a one-night stand gone unhinged: “This Is What Crazy Looks Like Via Text Messaging.” “Fletch & Vaughan” host Vaughan Smith found the texts on BuzzFeed and performed them as part of a four hour-long drive-time show. He then uploaded it to SoundCloud and shared it on Facebook to appease callers who wanted to hear the skit — but only that one skit — again.

“At the end of the weekend it hit a million plays,” says Smith. “It was mental.” With more than six million plays to date, more people have heard the version from “Fletch & Vaughan” than have read the BuzzFeed article it was adapted from — a triumph of sound over text.

It couldn’t have gone viral without a player as sharable as SoundCloud, but perhaps more importantly, it couldn’t have gone viral without the active unearthing of comedic gold buried within a longer broadcast. “In public radio, only within the last few years has there been a big value seen in disaggregating content from shows,” says PRX managing director John Barth. “And there’s still a pretty big debate about that.” These concerns echo the now-largely-obsolete resistance of other media to the Internet. They want listeners to experience the whole enchilada, not take the ingredients and re-contextualize them.

As for creating a whole new audio cuisine — work cooked up specifically for a SoundCloud audience — the successful examples are elusive. “We mostly use it as a promotional tool really,” says Smith. “We use it to promote the podcast.”

The Message Is The Medium

Last October, Reddit's Alexis Ohanian told a basement full of audiophiles to go make "the Upworthy for audio," but in a sense, we already have the Upworthy for audio: Upworthy. With its scientifically-selected, clickbait headlines, it  is the reason nearly two million people have heard the future president of Ireland Michael Higgins dress down rightwing talk show host Michael Graham (“A Tea Partier Decided To Pick A Fight With A Foreign President. It Didn’t Go So Well.”) It’s the reason hundreds of thousands have heard Geoffrey Gevalt tell a small poignant story, set to music, about his daughter (“A Toddler Gets Totally Profound In a Way Most Adults Don’t”) and Summer Puente about her father (“Every Night This Dad Falls Asleep in Front of the TV. There’s a Beautiful Reason Why.”)

The Upworthy sector of the Internet economy isn’t just healthy, it’s insatiable and omnivorous in its appetite for content it can coax people into clicking and sharing. “Whether it’s audio, whether it’s video, whether it’s still images, whether it’s text: my system remains pretty much the same,” says Neetzan Zimmerman. “For me it doesn’t really matter.”

The viral industry can help solve audio’s skimming problem, but only if it can find the content in the first place. “Radio doesn’t do a very good job of marketing itself to the viral industry, for whatever reason,” says Zimmerman. “Maybe it thinks too highly of itself, or thinks of ‘viral’ as a cheapening of its content. I really disagree with that. I think there’s a lot there to be mined, and a lot that gets ignored.”

“Marketing” makes it sound like radio makers simply need to do a better job of drawing attention to their work. And it’s true: active, public sharing directed at non-audiophiles is how Zimmerman found “Two Little Girls.” If there were a website that showed what audio was “trending” in some smaller community, Zimmerman says it would become part of his system. “One hundred percent. No doubt about it.”

There are also plenty of short podcasts and single-serving radio stories that are poorly labeled on obscure web pages or presented in unembeddable players. “Nobody that I’ve seen, even the best of them, spends time thinking about how to create the metadata or the descriptions: the things that might actually catch your attention,” says PRX’s Jake Shapiro.

More fundamental than marketing is the question of where audio makers see a market. “So far nobody is producing audio, really, for an audience that might be scanning for things to enjoy,” says Shapiro.

“It’s somewhat of a chicken and egg thing,” he says, “Until producers have any kind of confidence that there’s an audience or some money to be made — or preferably both — they’re not really targeting it.”

“If it can’t be used for pornography it’s never going to be the most popular thing.”

Perhaps Facebook will tweak its algorithms to favor audio. Perhaps SoundCloud or PRX or Apple will make a social alternative to podcasting. “It’s possible that someone will make this app that’s all about sharing audio that will be the next Snapchat,” suggests Seth Lind. “That’s obviously not going to happen,” he quickly adds, to make sure I know he’s joking. “If it can’t be used for pornography it’s never going to be the most popular thing.”

But Jeff Cohen and “Fletch & Vaughan” demonstrate that audio makers don’t have to wait for a deep shift in technology to court a viral audience. They would, however, have to create audio not for already-dedicated radio and podcast listeners, but for the distracted, impatient crowd that is the web. Audio enthusiasts would have to evangelize on that work’s behalf, not just in coffee shops or emails to each other, but online, loudly, with the same manipulative, click-chasing techniques wielded by the rest of the web.

The day “Two Little Girls” went viral, Jeff Cohen tweeted: “I fear I may disappoint new Twitter followers once they realize that I mostly write on Hartford, government, and healthcare. Not my kids…” That is still more or less his beat, though he does also have a children’s book (“Eva and Sadie and the Worst Haircut EVER!”) due out this summer.

“I don’t know anything about the Internet, really,” Jeff Cohen says. But the way he sees it, although he got lucky, he also made his own luck.

“I didn’t cut anybody’s hair. But when you see an opportunity, you take advantage of it.”

Stan Alcorn is a print, radio and video journalist based in New York City. He regularly reports for WNYC, Marketplace and NPR and is a staff writer for Fast Company's Co.Exist.

© 2016 News.me Inc · Terms · Privacy

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Consensus seems to be that Segoe UI Black is the best font for my zine's redtop masthead.

What do you guys think of a drop shadow?

I'm trying to evoke the feeling of a supermarket tabloid passing itself off as a real newspaper. It's a parody of all those rags that are like "you can't trust the mainstream media, but you can trust us because we hate the same people you hate," but I want mine to be funny, not legitimately hateful.

Do you ever go to the store and look at the pathetic magazine selection they have nowadays? An entire rack dedicated to guns, motorcycles, home and gardens, a bunch of thick glossy ad-laden booklets dedicated to marvel or dc or harry potter or bts, whatever media property is big right now for the publisher to capitalize on. I hate them! They don't even carry National Geographic anymore, just Nat Geo Traveler, those glossy photo collections like "100 Places You'll Never Afford to Visit" and "Oceans at Sunset; Give Us a Photography Award" (not that I much care for Nat Geo anymore anyway, considering it's owned by disney now. Everything is owned by disney...)

My point is, everything has to cater to the lowest common denominator. Everything has to appeal to as wide an audience as possible; nothing is allowed to be niche anymore, because it's all about exponential profits. Doesn't matter if it has a dedicated readership, if the number doesn't go up fast enough then the publisher says it's not worth pursuing. I grew up just as magazines started to die, and I miss them.

I want The Some Times to cater to young millennials and old zoomers who grew up at the same time as I did. I want it to evoke the feeling of Nick Mag or Mad Kids, but less infantile; we're adults now, we can't go back to your childhood, but we can still feel the same joy we used to. Don't you miss physical media? Don't you miss cultivated content about your favorite shows and movies instead of the constant drip-feed of the same grayish-brown slop we get on the internet? When you were a kid, did you parents let you subscribe to your favorite magazines, or did you have to beg them to buy you the newest issues one at a time when you saw them in the store? Comics, short stories, crafts/diy projects, lifestyle and entertainment, something for everyone. Like Mad Magazine, but less annoying, or Playboy, but less disgusting.

Nothing is set in stone. This project is evolving every day.

I'll keep you posted.

[michaelleafer]

Transform Your Home Into a Rental Property

Transforming Your Home into a Rental Property: 10 Essential Costs to Prepare For

If you're planning on turning your primary residence into a rental property, there are several costs you need to consider. From increased home insurance to legal fees and property management costs, there are many expenses that may not have been on your radar. Don't get caught off guard by unexpected costs - read on to learn more about what you can expect when you switch to being a landlord. It's time to start budgeting for the financial realities of renting out your home.

Home Insurance

Your home insurance costs will likely increase when you turn your primary residence into a rental property. This is because you will need additional coverage for things like loss of rent and liability for tenants. Be sure to shop around for the best rates and make sure you have the coverage you need.

Maintenance and Repairs

As a landlord, you are responsible for maintaining the property and making any necessary repairs. This includes everything from fixing a leaking faucet to replacing the roof. Be prepared for unexpected repairs and budget accordingly.

Legal Fees

You may need to hire an attorney to help you draft a lease agreement and handle any legal issues that may arise.

Marketing and Advertising

You will need to advertise your rental property to attract tenants. This may involve placing ads in local newspapers or online and paying for signs and other marketing materials.

Taxes

When you turn your primary residence into a rental property, you may no longer be eligible for a homestead exemption on your property taxes. This means that your property taxes may increase.

Property Management Fees

If you hire a property management company to handle the day-to-day tasks of being a landlord, you will need to budget for their fees. These can vary greatly but expect to pay anywhere from 8-12% of the monthly rent for their services.

Tenant Screening Fees

It is important to carefully screen potential tenants to ensure they are reliable and take good care of your property. This may involve paying for background checks and credit reports.

Cleaning and Staging

Before you begin showing your rental property to potential tenants, you may need some cleaning and staging to make it more appealing. This may involve hiring a professional cleaning company or purchasing new furnishings.

Tenant Move-in and Move-out Costs

When tenants move in or out of your rental property, you may need to pay for things like cleaning, painting, and repairs. Be sure to include these costs in your budget.

Vacancy Costs

It is inevitable that there will be times when your rental property is vacant. Be sure to budget for these periods and have a plan in place to minimize the financial impact.

Conclusion

By keeping these costs in mind and budgeting accordingly, you can be better prepared for the financial responsibilities of being a landlord. Remember to consult a financial advisor or attorney for additional guidance on managing the financial aspects of renting out your primary residence.

Turning your primary residence into a rental can dig deep into your wallet. Leaf Management is here to help finance the costs of turning your primary residence into a rental property. They can provide guidance on budgeting for the various expenses you may encounter as a landlord and help you find the most cost-effective solutions. We work with landlords to develop a financing plan that meets their specific needs and goals. Don't hesitate to contact us.

[aroundtheworldiej]

England: a dog attacks a 4-year-old girl who dies instantly

By Tom Courel

Several British media such as "The Sun" and "The Daily Mirror" reported on 31 January 2023 the death of a 4-year-old child in England following an attack by a dog. The police shot the dog for safety reasons.

Police officers were called to the scene at around 5pm local time in Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire, in the south-east of the country. They were informed that a dog had attacked a child in the garden of a property. The young girl died shortly afterwards in the backyard of a house.

Copyright: Inna Kharlamova

The dog, which is man's best friend and whose breed was not disclosed, was shot by police officers for public safety reasons. No other casualties have been reported and the family of the dead child is being counselled. No arrests have yet been made by the police.

Terrible grief

One neighbor told The Sun newspaper: "We heard desperate cries last night. I heard she is dead! She's dead! They were piercing screams.

The interviewee, who has a child in the same school as the dead girl, added: "The screams will stay with me forever. It was a nightmare. I am heartbroken. It will haunt me," he said.

Violence by these animals is increasingly common in Europe. But this is mainly due to a lack of socialization. A dog will only behave this way against people with whom it has not been socialized during the first months of its life. A dog, raised with sheep, will never be a sheep predator. A dog that has been exposed to small children during the first 6 months of its life will never behave predatorily towards a baby for example.