As Harry finished his homework for the day, writing an essay about the importance of saving gender awareness whales from being harpooned by sarcastic satirists, the telephone rang, and it was his girlfriend Hermione on the line.
'Come round to my place now, Harry!', she said, 'an evil warlock has been spotted in my garden!', for she lived in Downing Street in Westminster, and soon the pair were striding up and down the lawn in deep thought, chain-smoking cigarettes and taking swigs of home-made paraffin.
'The warlock has cast spells on many', Hermione said, 'but no-one except me has spotted it. The maiden Jacqui, the midget Hazel, and even the Number Ten skunk called Alastair, plus many, many more have been affected by that accursed wizard. We must do something before the entire Government has been ruined.'
'I have an idea!', Harry suddenly shouted, 'causing Hermione to spill her pint of paraffin onto the grass, 'we must arm ourselves with our wands and spell books', and the two went into Hermione's garden shed, and came out with their wands and their copy of 'Can You Lend Me A Tenner Til Next Wednesday, Joanne?'
Soon the pair were creeping through the garden of Number 10, using their special invisibility spell, and then they went into the building. 'Shhh!', Harry whispered, and 'I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!' Hermione yelled back, and then they edged into the Cabinet Room.
'So you came', said the warlock, who was sitting there, 'just as I expected you would. Mwah hah hah! Mwah hah hah hah hah! Mwah hah hah hah hah hah hah!' 'You can stop your mwah hah hah hah hah-ing right now, warlock, we now cast the spell of truth-telling upon you!', and Harry and Hermione pointed their wands at the warlock, and the spell was cast.
Turning to a passing BBC cameraman, the warlock began prattling to it, for now he could not stop telling the truth. 'Yes, it was me that hired private detectives, and rooted out all those Ministers fiddling their expenses. And leaked it all to the press.'
'It was me that got rid of Tony, and framed MP after MP, forcing them to stand down at the next election. It was all me!', and Harry and Hermione went off to celebrate at the Hurricane Higgins ham and haggis restaurant, in Hampstead Heath.
'That will stop the warlock from causing any more trouble', Harry said, 'but just to make sure we'd better cast another spell on him, so the warlock's party loses disastrously in the European elections.'
'OK', Hermione said. 'Is this story over yet?' 'Not quite', answered Harry, 'there's some more waffle to pass another few minutes. Another milk shake?' 'Sure, but put more methylated spirits in this one.' 'OK', and the story ended.
Or did it? Back in Downing Street the warlock was locked into a cupboard by the Prime Minister until the truth-spelling spell wore off, so we may not have heard the last of the Dark Lord Of Mandlegraarg, and his assistant familiar, the skunk Alistair.