Post by dianahawthorne on Apr 7, 2008 20:24:10 GMT -5
The Case of the Discontented Wizard
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Disclaimer: This story uses characters from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, as well as characters from Agatha Christie's short story "The Case of the Discontented Soldier", published in the book "Parker Pyne Investigates." The scenario, as well as much of the dialogue, is taken from Agatha Christie's story. "Delancie's" is a restaurant created by MMADfan and used in her story "Resolving a Misunderstanding."
A/N: This is a response to Challenge 92 on the AD/MM Boards; however, because it was my challenge, I can't formally enter this story in the running. Please read and review anyway!
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“I am bored stiff,” the auburn-haired wizard said frankly to the man across from him. “I’ve finally defeated Grindelwald, and our world is at peace – at least for a little while. And while I have Hogwarts during the school year, the summers drag on. I need some excitement in my life!” Albus Dumbledore finished, looking across the desk to Parker Pyne, a Squib detective who ran a daily advertisement in the Daily Prophet, as well as the Muggle newspapers.
Are you happy? If not, consult Mr. Parker Pyne.
Albus had seen this advert in the paper earlier this morning, and decided that no harm would come from paying a visit to Mr. Pyne.
“It will cost you fifty galleons,” Mr. Pyne told the wizard.
Albus dug a moneybag out of his pocket and counted out fifty galleons.
“There you go, fifty galleons.”
“Thank you. You have a lunch appointment with Miss Serena Sinistra. She is waiting for you at Delancie’s.”
Albus seemed stunned for a moment at the immediacy of the appointment, but he gathered up his things, and, bowing to Mr. Pyne, Apparated away to Delancie’s.
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“He seems to prefer dark-haired women,” Serena Sinistra told Parker Pyne three hours later. “I believe that he also prefers green eyes.”
While Serena was talking to him, Mr. Pyne was running his finger down a list of women.
“Hmm… Minerva McGonagall. She should do nicely.”
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Please go to Friar’s Lane, Hampstead, and call on a man named Jones at a house named “Eaglemont” at twelve o’clock this afternoon. Present yourself as a representative of the Guinea Shipping Company.
Following the instructions in the note he had received earlier that morning by owl, Albus Dumbledore made his way down Friar’s Lane when he heard a woman crying for help from an abandoned house. He quickly wrenched open the door, finding a dark-haired woman being attacked by two men in dark cloaks.
“Stupefy!” Albus cried, Stunning both of the woman’s assailants.
“Oh, thank Merlin!” the woman said, after they had exited the house. “I was terrified! They had taken my wand and I had no idea what I was going to do!”
Albus blushed. “It’s nothing, my dear.”
“Oh, but it is! Thank you!” she replied effusively, yet sincerely.
“Here, why don’t we go get a cuppa, hmm? You’ve had a bit of a nasty shock,” Albus suggested.
“All right, then,” she agreed readily enough. “Oh, I’m Minerva McGonagall,” she offered, extending her hand.
“I’m Albus Dumbledore,” he returned, shaking her proffered hand. “What were you doing in that neighbourhood, anyway?” he asked her curiously.
“Oh, well, my father died recently, and yesterday, a solicitor came by telling me that my father had made an investment in something – he did not say what – but that the investment had come through. I had to bring some papers to this address in order to get my affairs settled.”
“Hmm… that’s odd. Why not his office?” he queried.
She blushed. “I hadn’t thought of that. Anyway, it’s a moot point. I did not have the papers. My mother had kept my father’s things in a trunk, and I went through it last night, but there aren’t any papers among his belongings.”
“Would you mind showing me the trunk, Miss McGonagall? A fresh pair of eyes might see something you’ve missed.”
“Of course,” she agreed. They Flooed into her apartment, and she brought him into her bedroom.
“See,” she said, opening the trunk, “no papers.”
“Just a mo’,” Albus said, prodding the interior of the trunk with his wand. “Aha!” He extracted a bit of crumpled paper from a slit in the lining of the trunk.
“What language is that?” Minerva asked curiously.
“It’s Swahili. It’s detailing the location of a cache of ivory,” Albus replied, after reading over the paper.
“Ivory! How exciting!” she exclaimed.
“Yes. We’ll have to go after it – that is, if you’d like to,” Albus said.
“Oh yes!” she replied enthusiastically. The grandfather clock in the corner struck six o’clock.
“It’s getting late – why don’t you stop by tomorrow around noon and we can figure out a course of action?” she suggested.
“All right, then,” he agreed. “Tomorrow at noon.”
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Ding-dong.
“She left about a half-hour ago. Are you Mr. Dumbledore?” an elderly woman asked.
“Yes, I am. I had an appointment with Miss McGonagall at noon. Where has she gone?”
“She left you a note,” the woman said, handing him an envelope.
“Thank you.”
Dear Mr. Dumbledore,
Something odd has happened – can you meet me at Eaglemont as soon as you receive this letter?
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Albus furrowed his brows, confused. He withdrew two pieces of paper from his robe pockets.
“Do you, by chance, have an owl to loan me?” he asked the elderly woman.
“Yes, sir, we do,” she replied, and opened the window to allow a small barn owl to enter the room. Albus used the quill that was resting on the desk to address the letter to his brother before thanking the woman and Apparating to Eaglemont. The next thing he knew, he was knocked out cold.
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“How did you get here?” a bound Minerva McGonagall exclaimed as Albus Dumbledore regained consciousness.
“Did you leave me a note asking me to meet you here?” he asked her.
“No! You sent me one!” she replied, confusedly.
“Argh! They got us the same way! I presume that they were trying to get the paper!” he cried, aggravated. He noticed that he was bound together by ropes, and tried unsuccessfully to loosen them.
“Did they?” she asked urgently.
“Yes, I have,” a cold, echoing voice said. “Thank you very much. It’s a pity that you two will – pass on – tonight. Thank you for the fortune!”
“Was that the solicitor?” Albus asked a frightened-looking Minerva.
“Yes, it was. Oh, what are we going to do?” she cried.
Albus strained against his bonds again, and felt them begin to loosen.
“Look! They’re going to drown us!” she cried, looking at the water that began to leak through a hole in the wall. Albus continued to strain against his bonds, finally breaking the ropes when the water had reached his chest. Not wanting to waste any time, he quickly untied Minerva and lifted her into his arms.
“Hold on tight,” he told her, and Apparated them away to his flat.
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After they had both taken a hot shower and changed into fresh clothes (Minerva borrowing one of Albus’s nightshirts), they sat together on the couch and began to discuss what had happened.
“Oh, Albus, thank you! You saved my life!” Minerva said, embracing him.
“Oh Minerva, my darling – I love you. Could you ever love me?” he said in a rush.
She looked up at him tenderly. “I already do,” she replied.
“Will you marry me?” he asked her.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, and their lips met in a sweet kiss.
Later that evening, Albus said, “We can go to East Africa and look for the ivory cache on our honeymoon!”
“But the solicitor has the paper now – doesn’t he?”
Albus chuckled. “No, I wrote out a false copy before stopping by your apartment this evening. I Owled the real one to my brother. The secret is safe – as long as the goats don’t eat it!” They both laughed.
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“Sensational job, Mrs. Oliver,” Parker Pyne told the famous novelist, who happened to be the newest member of his staff.
“Why thank you. Did the water-in-the-cellar bit go off well?” she asked.
“Yes, splendidly. I must inquire, though, when did you learn Swahili?”
“I didn’t. I rang up Delfridge’s Information Bureau and had them translate it for me.”
“Ah, the wonders of modern commerce,” Mr. Pyne sighed.
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A year later, Albus and Minerva were sitting on the veranda of the Dumbledore family home.
“What’s the date, darling,” Albus inquired of his wife.
“The sixteenth,” she responded.
“Merlin’s beard!” Albus exclaimed.
“What’s wrong?” Minerva asked, startled at her husband’s outburst.
“Nothing, darling. I just remembered a fellow named Jones.”
I should have called up Mr. Pyne and gotten my money back. Well, I suppose it is my fault, as I am the one who broke the appointment. Oh, well – if I hadn’t been going to see Jones, then I never would have met my darling Minerva.
I should have known that that place wouldn’t work – I paid them thirty galleons, and they never did a thing – all that happened was that horrible solicitor and those two awful men. Well, I suppose if I hadn’t, I never would have met Albus. She caught her husband’s eye and returned his smile.
THE END
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Disclaimer: This story uses characters from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, as well as characters from Agatha Christie's short story "The Case of the Discontented Soldier", published in the book "Parker Pyne Investigates." The scenario, as well as much of the dialogue, is taken from Agatha Christie's story. "Delancie's" is a restaurant created by MMADfan and used in her story "Resolving a Misunderstanding."
A/N: This is a response to Challenge 92 on the AD/MM Boards; however, because it was my challenge, I can't formally enter this story in the running. Please read and review anyway!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I am bored stiff,” the auburn-haired wizard said frankly to the man across from him. “I’ve finally defeated Grindelwald, and our world is at peace – at least for a little while. And while I have Hogwarts during the school year, the summers drag on. I need some excitement in my life!” Albus Dumbledore finished, looking across the desk to Parker Pyne, a Squib detective who ran a daily advertisement in the Daily Prophet, as well as the Muggle newspapers.
Are you happy? If not, consult Mr. Parker Pyne.
Albus had seen this advert in the paper earlier this morning, and decided that no harm would come from paying a visit to Mr. Pyne.
“It will cost you fifty galleons,” Mr. Pyne told the wizard.
Albus dug a moneybag out of his pocket and counted out fifty galleons.
“There you go, fifty galleons.”
“Thank you. You have a lunch appointment with Miss Serena Sinistra. She is waiting for you at Delancie’s.”
Albus seemed stunned for a moment at the immediacy of the appointment, but he gathered up his things, and, bowing to Mr. Pyne, Apparated away to Delancie’s.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“He seems to prefer dark-haired women,” Serena Sinistra told Parker Pyne three hours later. “I believe that he also prefers green eyes.”
While Serena was talking to him, Mr. Pyne was running his finger down a list of women.
“Hmm… Minerva McGonagall. She should do nicely.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please go to Friar’s Lane, Hampstead, and call on a man named Jones at a house named “Eaglemont” at twelve o’clock this afternoon. Present yourself as a representative of the Guinea Shipping Company.
Following the instructions in the note he had received earlier that morning by owl, Albus Dumbledore made his way down Friar’s Lane when he heard a woman crying for help from an abandoned house. He quickly wrenched open the door, finding a dark-haired woman being attacked by two men in dark cloaks.
“Stupefy!” Albus cried, Stunning both of the woman’s assailants.
“Oh, thank Merlin!” the woman said, after they had exited the house. “I was terrified! They had taken my wand and I had no idea what I was going to do!”
Albus blushed. “It’s nothing, my dear.”
“Oh, but it is! Thank you!” she replied effusively, yet sincerely.
“Here, why don’t we go get a cuppa, hmm? You’ve had a bit of a nasty shock,” Albus suggested.
“All right, then,” she agreed readily enough. “Oh, I’m Minerva McGonagall,” she offered, extending her hand.
“I’m Albus Dumbledore,” he returned, shaking her proffered hand. “What were you doing in that neighbourhood, anyway?” he asked her curiously.
“Oh, well, my father died recently, and yesterday, a solicitor came by telling me that my father had made an investment in something – he did not say what – but that the investment had come through. I had to bring some papers to this address in order to get my affairs settled.”
“Hmm… that’s odd. Why not his office?” he queried.
She blushed. “I hadn’t thought of that. Anyway, it’s a moot point. I did not have the papers. My mother had kept my father’s things in a trunk, and I went through it last night, but there aren’t any papers among his belongings.”
“Would you mind showing me the trunk, Miss McGonagall? A fresh pair of eyes might see something you’ve missed.”
“Of course,” she agreed. They Flooed into her apartment, and she brought him into her bedroom.
“See,” she said, opening the trunk, “no papers.”
“Just a mo’,” Albus said, prodding the interior of the trunk with his wand. “Aha!” He extracted a bit of crumpled paper from a slit in the lining of the trunk.
“What language is that?” Minerva asked curiously.
“It’s Swahili. It’s detailing the location of a cache of ivory,” Albus replied, after reading over the paper.
“Ivory! How exciting!” she exclaimed.
“Yes. We’ll have to go after it – that is, if you’d like to,” Albus said.
“Oh yes!” she replied enthusiastically. The grandfather clock in the corner struck six o’clock.
“It’s getting late – why don’t you stop by tomorrow around noon and we can figure out a course of action?” she suggested.
“All right, then,” he agreed. “Tomorrow at noon.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ding-dong.
“She left about a half-hour ago. Are you Mr. Dumbledore?” an elderly woman asked.
“Yes, I am. I had an appointment with Miss McGonagall at noon. Where has she gone?”
“She left you a note,” the woman said, handing him an envelope.
“Thank you.”
Dear Mr. Dumbledore,
Something odd has happened – can you meet me at Eaglemont as soon as you receive this letter?
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Albus furrowed his brows, confused. He withdrew two pieces of paper from his robe pockets.
“Do you, by chance, have an owl to loan me?” he asked the elderly woman.
“Yes, sir, we do,” she replied, and opened the window to allow a small barn owl to enter the room. Albus used the quill that was resting on the desk to address the letter to his brother before thanking the woman and Apparating to Eaglemont. The next thing he knew, he was knocked out cold.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“How did you get here?” a bound Minerva McGonagall exclaimed as Albus Dumbledore regained consciousness.
“Did you leave me a note asking me to meet you here?” he asked her.
“No! You sent me one!” she replied, confusedly.
“Argh! They got us the same way! I presume that they were trying to get the paper!” he cried, aggravated. He noticed that he was bound together by ropes, and tried unsuccessfully to loosen them.
“Did they?” she asked urgently.
“Yes, I have,” a cold, echoing voice said. “Thank you very much. It’s a pity that you two will – pass on – tonight. Thank you for the fortune!”
“Was that the solicitor?” Albus asked a frightened-looking Minerva.
“Yes, it was. Oh, what are we going to do?” she cried.
Albus strained against his bonds again, and felt them begin to loosen.
“Look! They’re going to drown us!” she cried, looking at the water that began to leak through a hole in the wall. Albus continued to strain against his bonds, finally breaking the ropes when the water had reached his chest. Not wanting to waste any time, he quickly untied Minerva and lifted her into his arms.
“Hold on tight,” he told her, and Apparated them away to his flat.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After they had both taken a hot shower and changed into fresh clothes (Minerva borrowing one of Albus’s nightshirts), they sat together on the couch and began to discuss what had happened.
“Oh, Albus, thank you! You saved my life!” Minerva said, embracing him.
“Oh Minerva, my darling – I love you. Could you ever love me?” he said in a rush.
She looked up at him tenderly. “I already do,” she replied.
“Will you marry me?” he asked her.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, and their lips met in a sweet kiss.
Later that evening, Albus said, “We can go to East Africa and look for the ivory cache on our honeymoon!”
“But the solicitor has the paper now – doesn’t he?”
Albus chuckled. “No, I wrote out a false copy before stopping by your apartment this evening. I Owled the real one to my brother. The secret is safe – as long as the goats don’t eat it!” They both laughed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Sensational job, Mrs. Oliver,” Parker Pyne told the famous novelist, who happened to be the newest member of his staff.
“Why thank you. Did the water-in-the-cellar bit go off well?” she asked.
“Yes, splendidly. I must inquire, though, when did you learn Swahili?”
“I didn’t. I rang up Delfridge’s Information Bureau and had them translate it for me.”
“Ah, the wonders of modern commerce,” Mr. Pyne sighed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A year later, Albus and Minerva were sitting on the veranda of the Dumbledore family home.
“What’s the date, darling,” Albus inquired of his wife.
“The sixteenth,” she responded.
“Merlin’s beard!” Albus exclaimed.
“What’s wrong?” Minerva asked, startled at her husband’s outburst.
“Nothing, darling. I just remembered a fellow named Jones.”
I should have called up Mr. Pyne and gotten my money back. Well, I suppose it is my fault, as I am the one who broke the appointment. Oh, well – if I hadn’t been going to see Jones, then I never would have met my darling Minerva.
I should have known that that place wouldn’t work – I paid them thirty galleons, and they never did a thing – all that happened was that horrible solicitor and those two awful men. Well, I suppose if I hadn’t, I never would have met Albus. She caught her husband’s eye and returned his smile.
THE END
