Effects of the Recession in the Wizard World

"Circulation is down. 70%. And with circulation drops profits."

The room filled with gasps, and one person thudded to the floor, unconscious.

Finally, someone spoke up. "How can profits be down? WE'RE THE DAILY PROPHET!" cried the one and only Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet journalist.

All of the people inside the Daily Prophet Headquarters in London were currently crowded into a small room, whether invited to the meeting or not.

"It's true," spoke the editor, Barnabas Cuffe.

"But can't we get more funding from the Ministry?" asked Andy Smudgley, a reporter.

"Nope," Cuffe replied. "Ever since they found You-Know-Who, they've stopped sending us funding to cover the truth."

At that, Rita promptly fainted, as well.

"Alright," Cuffe continued, directing his attention elsewhere, "I know that things are looking bad. And they are. But what we need is a reason why no one's buying."

The room remained silent.

"Come on, people, who's in charge of advertising? Mr. Finch?"

Crickets chirped. Well, they're in England, so cricket players chirped.

"Alright. Does anyone have an idea as to why we are losing money by the second?" Cuffe demanded angrily.

A shy columnist by the name of Shaman raised a quivering hand and spoke, "Perhaps owls are unable to deliver the newspaper in this heat." In response to everyone's lack of interest, Shaman continued, "Well, we've had a record-breaking June, and July has been one big heat wave so far."

Another reporter, Betty Braithwait, commented, "He could be right. What we need is an alternative way for people to purchase the Daily Prophet, and now."

"Yes! Thank you, Braithwait!" Cuffe cried. "So, how will we sell the Prophet now?"

Yet again, a new reporter named Jonathan answered. It's a known fact that reporters are extremely talkative. "What if we had actual people sell the papers? We could have them sell each paper separate, not a subscription, so people didn't feel pressured, and we could get children who would work for little, are used to the heat, and most wizards and witches find absolutely charming."

Cuffe scoffed. "Brilliant, Jonathan, brilliant. All of the children in Britain are at Hogwarts starting September 1."

Jonathan looked defeated, but Smudgley pondered aloud the three sentences that give this story a plot. Now, let's remember, children, that it is a VERY BAD IDEA to ponder aloud. Smudgley paused for a moment, and then said, "Who says they have to be British? They could be American, it doesn't matter! All that matters is that we get our paychecks next Thursday!"

To Cuffe's (and Smudgley's) surprise, the crowd of various newspaper workers nodded and murmured amongst themselves.

"It could work," Rita Skeeter declared, having been revived by emergency staff who were dragging the other unconscious person out of the room by the feet. "Bring back kids from America, and have them sell the Daily Prophet on the streets."

"Well, yes, but what American witch or wizard would allow their child to come here without them, and sell newspapers?" Betty Braithwait interrogated.

Cuffe said, "Kids in America used to do that, you know. Sell newspapers without their parents. Most of them didn't even have parents. They did that back around the turnoff the century. They were called… what were they called?"

At this point, I had to intervene. Not knowing what they're called is absolutely inexcusable.

"Newsies," I told him.

"What? Is that You-Know-Who? Hello?" Cuffe asked, startled.

"Don't break the wall, Cuffe. Don't break the wall." Yeah, I know I'm not supposed to break the wall either, but to forget the Newsies? It was worth it.

"Newsies, they were called," Cuffe finally mentioned, probably deciding that my voice in his head was a figment of his imagination. I'll deal with that later. "They went around the streets of, say, New York City, and they sold newspapers, and then they stayed at an… apartment?"

"Lodging house!"

"No, a lodging house, I believe."

"So what are we going to do, travel back to 1899, tell these so-called 'Newsies' that they're coming to London to sell papers, and that things here are extremely more technologically advanced, so that's why we can point magic wands at anything and make stuff happen?" This came from Jonathan, needless to say.

"Exactly! Brilliant, Jonathan, brilliant!" Cuffe decided. "So, do we send a Personal Portal?"

Rita Skeeter nodded evilly. "Tomorrow morning at the latest. Call Dumbledore and tell him that it's his turn to make up a promise. And a signed contract."