The University has been found guilty of a number of nonhuman rights violations, according to an investigation by the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!.
Representatives from the group, who were interviewed when all four members of the organization stormed into The Daily Prophet office demanding attention, said that they had found a number of emaciated and “clearly abused” house elves caged in the University’s basement.
“It was absolutely appalling,” Marlow Budderkie said, executive director of SPEW!. “They were starving, deprived of clean water, crying for their mothers. There was a dead elf in one cage, and another one was so hungry he was trying to chew his arm off. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
According to University spokeswizard Martin Mbugua, who was tracked down outside the stone door to the deepest dungeon after 16 previous attempts to contact him by Floo Powder, owl and Howler all failed, the accusations are entirely false.
“Extensive searches of the grounds have turned up no such ‘elfish dungeon,’ ” Mbugua said. “I have no idea what they’re talking about. I suggest Mr. Budderkie take a strong dose of anti-Confundus draught.”
While speaking, Mbugua hastily gestured toward the door, which locked itself with the screech of a banshee that sounded in chorus with the wails of whatever creatures were trapped behind the door. When asked about the sound, he muttered something about an infestation of ghouls on the fourth floor.
“Seriously, I don’t have time for this,” he added, wiping delicate, lacy elf tears off his shoes. “You have my response. If you have any more questions, send them to me in an email, and I’ll get back to you in four to six weeks.”
“Why do I have to cover up everything around here?” this reporter heard him mutter as he walked off down the hall. “This place is sick. This administration doesn’t know the first thing about PR.”
The accusations of house-elf abuse are just the latest in a string of ethical infringements brought against the University.
According to Budderkie, SPEW! was also tipped off by an anonymous member of the housekeeping staff about a number of experimentation violations happening in the University’s potions dungeons.
“A former worker who will remain anonymous reported finding appalling violations of international magical law occurring in the University’s brewing and drafting facilities,” Budderkie said. “The violations were extremely egregious and heinous. It was barbaric, perverse and entirely wrong.”
When pressed for details on the nature of the abuses, Budderkie said, “These are really serious violations that we’re talking about. Really very serious. We’d tell you, but your readers would start crying. You can trust us because we’re an independent organization.”

Despite strict ethical restrictions on the use of human-like beasts in magical experimentation, the University apparently frequently tests trial potions on captive centaurs, house elves and goblins without the requisite use of antidotes.
“The University takes the highest pride in its magical ethics standards,” Mbugua said when cornered a second time outside his office. “We never promote any practices that could cause pain or implicate any fellow creatures in painful experimentation unless it’s cheaper, easier, more convenient, more fun or just plain sadistic.” He then attempted to cast an Obliviate spell only to be thwarted by a manacled elf who dropped down from the ceiling.
“Erm, hrm, oops,” he said as he hurriedly stuffed the elf in a bag. “I’d like to point out that we were only just reviewed by a Ministry of Magic official in response to these accusations and were not only innocent of violations but in fact found to be above the minimum standard of ethics required by the government.”
This claim was conveniently confirmed by a representative from the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures who happened to walk out of Mbugua’s office at just that moment.
“I, um, err, whatever he said,” the official said as he stooped to pick up several large sacks of galleons that had just slipped out of his robes. “Great school, really great. Top form. No problems whatsoever.”
“By the way, Martin,” he said as he walked off down the hall, “Tell Shirley I said thanks again for the mead. I owe her.”
This article is part of The Daily Princetonian's annual joke issue. Never trust the news.