Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 17:5

A framed blackboard rolled of its own volition into the middle of the room. Professor Parsimonae stowed his wand and quickly drew an even grid of twenty-six rectangles. When he turned to face them, still clutching the chalk, Montague was raising his hand and wearing a greasy smirk.

The investigator's eyes loomed long over the boy, before he glanced down at the torn student list where a name was glowing. "Tenice, is it?"

"That is correct," he responded, in a manner that was uncharacteristically poised. "I am from Slytherin house, as is your son, Ian. He led me to believe that you are in search of precious, unknown artifacts. Unknown to us, that is. Was he telling the truth, sir?"

An unexpectedly goofy smile broke across Parsimonae's chiseled face. He gazed out the windows at the snowcapped mountains, as if recalling a favorite joke. "A wiser wizard than me once said that there are no stupid questions. I thank you, Mister Montague, for teaching us that with each rule comes an exception."

Their new professor tapped his lips with one finger. "I think there is an erroneous belief about Magical Investigators I need to clear up. Our aim is less about hunting for solutions to mysteries, as it is battling the Dark Arts...one puzzle at a time. Most of the wizarding world confuses Magical Investigators with Aurors, who use advanced magic and instinct to reach their ends. M.I.s, like myself, use deductive logic and reasoning, as well as magic, in order to resolve any issue with the least amount of assumption, the greatest depiction of tact, and while applying the most succinct methodology. It is an elegant trade that centers more on the mind than the gut. As well, each M.I. possesses certain magical tools that aid him or her in the investigation process."

Professor Parsimonae flipped his top hat end-over-end and tilted it forward, before reaching inside. The students were baffled as his arm continued beyond the boundaries of the hat, and especially when he started rummaging through the dark and silky depths, as if it were a giant haversack. From within, he pulled the eyeglasses that Fred and Lee recognized from the night before, with the adjustable colored lenses. He rested them on the desk. Next came a few wrinkled editions of the Daily Prophet, numerous snuffboxes and crystal potion vials, a monocle on a glittering chain, a misshapen red eraser, and a squiggly rod of humming gold metal that vaguely resembled the aerial Mr. Weasley used to get their defunct living room Quidditch set to come in clearly during the summer matches.

Lastly, and with far more care, he removed a caged salamander, an antique powder room mirror, and a large, glass spinning top. The mirror drew them in immediately, because it wasn't reflecting the room. In fact, there was a shadowed figure hovering in the distance. Over time, it came into focus and they were able to see that the figure was Peeves the Poltergeist, wearing a wide-brimmed, ostrich plumed hat and shoving a struggling house-elf into a vat of Jell-O. There was more to the scene, but their attentions were stolen by the spinning top that had been balancing on its point. Now, it spun wildly, a silver glow emanating from the center, until it began to whistle so fiercely that Professor Parsimonae rushed to cover it with his top hat. When he flipped it back, the sound had disappeared and the object was gone.

"What was that thing?" Lee asked, enthralled. His eyes were popping out of his skull. "I want one!"

At that moment, Angelina was thumbing through an entirely different comic book, and stopped when she reached a page with an enchanted illustration of the same glass spinning top, only this one was small enough to fit in her palm.

"Sneakoscope," she marveled, withdrawing her gaze. "It sits idle unless there is a deceitful person nearby."

Fred fixed his eyes on the Magical Investigator, as George took a hard look at Montague and Meaney.