JosephineCrimson

By Scandella Bliss

Werewolves. I can already hear my readers’ collective groans as I type the word, I can see my editor rolling her picture perfect sapphire eyes back into her pretty blonde head. Werewolves have been the talk of the Wizarding World over the last year since that old hag in the dirty robes, Eleanore Lovelace, started using Hogsmeade residents and Hogwarts students as chew toys in January of 2025.

Articles have flown off the press about the various legislations passed and the morality of them, exposés have been printed about the identity of Lovelace and the young student she tormented who then chose to bank on the trauma and cash in for her ten seconds of fame-  Or a touch more if you found mention of her in the Daily Prophet articles by one Adalfink Fisher- by exposing her own identity in an article by one Saffron Foxclaw… er, Macauley. Only a werewolf (and Foxclaw)could find advantage in a series of maulings, though I suppose there were quite a few of them as our former Minister chose to reward those infected with lycanthropy with therapy and legal protection. That’s an article for another day, however- or not! You see, no matter which side of the argument you fall on… I think we can all agree that we’re just sick to death of hearing about werewolves.

I propose to you then, my dear readers, a new subject of discussion. A predator lurking within Hogsmeade, already claiming victims. Only recently did we see the grand re-opening of the Crimson Fang Speakeasy. While there were many who thought the name little more than some witty title like The Siren’s Tail (which isn’t actually owned by any sort of mer creature) the name actually hides something more sinister. You see, I’ve recently learned the Crimson Fang is named such for the red stain upon a vampire’s sharp teeth after feeding from a victim.

That’s right, readers. The Crimson Fang Speakeasy’s newest owner is a vampire who has taken up residence right in the sleepy wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Seeing the residents too busy worrying themselves over werewolves with their pitchforks, wands, and illegal hunting parties, this vampire settled herself in easily.

Don’t get me wrong, readers. I am not against vampires. I do not oppose them owning businesses or living amongst wizardkind. The scandal comes not from such matters, but from the numerous accusations which have begun to pop up. Housewives throughout the village have reported their husbands spending their nights at the Speakeasy, gone during all hours, only to return home just before the sun rises with marks upon their necks. Love bites from secret lovers or something more sinister?

Adults freshly out of Hogwarts have been reported to have developed a sudden taste for Blood Flavoured Lollipops, running the Feathersweets out of their entire stock. I asked the owner of Honeyduke’s, one Taffy Feathersweet, and she had this to say.

“I did have to order some more recently.” She said, before going on to confirm that in fact, “most people are in coats and scarves when they come in.”  After some discussion regarding how she found the Crimson Fang to be an extreme place since Madame Crimson took it over, she also added that a good majority [of the people] she used to see about have left.

While in the area, I was lucky enough to get a quote from Madame Josephine Crimson herself as well. I approached her, neck covered by a scarf trademarked as a Callidora original (For the price, it surely was a cheap bit of fabric with subpar designs, truly I have seen better crafted by little old women sat gossiping and knitting in the Leaky Cauldron.) and a pocket full of garlic- just in case.

“Everyone is welcome at the Crimson Fang. A room full of hot blooded veins is more than enough to keep a girl happy. WINK.” This reporter would like to note that the woman did actually say ‘wink’ out loud. How someone like that, (A pasty woman with a blouse cut lower than that of yours truly, while easily looking three times my age and nowhere near as perky (If I do say so myself)) could possibly be stealing away other women’s husbands, this writer couldn’t say.

What this writer can say, is this: Readers, there is a predator among us, more competent and dangerous than some mangy werewolf. No, the predator we really need to fear… is the one hiding away in the Crimson Fang with blood and firewhiskey.

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