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

Chapter 27:8

"Got summat fer yeh," he said abruptly, searching through his many pockets until he took out the white envelope that Vindictus Viridian had asked him to deliver. "Sorry, musta bent it at some point."

"What's this?" Fred asked, reaching for the envelope.

"Yer guess is as good as mine. I was jus' told ter pass it 'long."

George took the monogrammed envelope from his brother and tore it open. Inside, they found a slightly crushed and completely blank white card. It looked pristine, except for a faint, circular burn in the top right corner, as if it were held over a candle flame for a second or two. Dangling from a thin chain at the fold was a miniature glass vial in the shape of a birdcage. It shimmered with yellow light.

"Is this meant to be a joke?" George asked, gazing up at Hagrid who seemed thoroughly confused.

"No, look!" said Lee, as the three students crowded around George. A spot of black ink was widening from the center of the card.

"I'll leave yeh to it, then. Stop by an' see me before yeh leave on the train," said Hagrid, not wanting them to see him blubbering on about releasing his pet back into the wild.

They hardly heard what Hagrid was saying, because the focus of Fred, George, Lee, and Angelina all centered on the vortex of spinning black ink that was seeping out from within the small white card. It was curling and looping in on itself, until fine words could be seen on the surface.

Greetings, Fred and George!

Well done with your analysis of the case. You would have figured it out in time, I'm sure of it. Solve the Who (Vindictus Viridian), thinking When (fifty years ago). Answer What (in the painting), thinking Where (on the missing fourth floor corridor). As a token of my appreciation for your help, I gift to you the captured song of the Greenwich Meantail. Keep it on hand, in case you run across Darc in the future. It should at least buy you time enough to run.

The ink faded and swirled into the center of the card, as if a stopper had been pulled from an unseen drain. Fred removed the glass charm and held it to the sunlight, as new strings of text formed across the emptiness.

As to your not-so-secret map, mind you don't go looking too closely at its contents. As you can no doubt recall, I discovered a symbol hidden within the map upon my first viewing — an ancient rune in the shape of a triangular eye that has a very dark and disturbing past. If you choose not to destroy the map, take great care with whom you trust to share it. You saw what could happen if it fell into the wrong hands. Mind the powers it holds, boys. I do not believe it was made innocently.

As the ink swirled away and reversed course a final time, Fred and George thought back to the gold chain Professor Kettleburn had shown them outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

As promised, I have discovered the way in which your map can be deactivated. In order to show you, without being present, I placed the Essence Enchantment upon this letter. If you look to the corner, you will see a distinct stain that resembles the scorch mark of a flame. This denotes the origin of the spell, where the tip of my wand met the card. Locate a similar blemish on your parchment, swing your wand straight down, and tap it gently. It is where the personality of the map originates. Speak your closing incantation, and it is done. You alone will hold the key to its secrets, so choose wisely.

Until next time, when you hear hoofbeats, think of Centaurs, not horses.

Lexington Parsimonae

M of M

George lowered the card. "What does that mean?"

"The Centaur bit?" asked Fred.

"No, the letters."

"He must be our next Minister of Magic," said Lee. "It's in all the papers that Bagnold's getting the sack. Even the Quibbler said it was the right move."

Beside them, Angelina was trembling with excitement as she watched the ink evaporate. "No...no that's not it at all," she said, her head rocking back and forth. "He signed it 'M of M'...he signed it!"

Angelina rummaged through her robe, until she pulled out a wrinkled issue of her favorite comic book. The boys rolled their eyes, not surprised to see that she kept one on hand. Angelina flipped past the front cover and pointed to the assorted directory of characters, particularly to the handsome wizard in the top hat.

"The Master of Mystery! 'M of M'...it's him!" she declared, jabbing her finger at the page. The tiny illustration leapt aside and scolded her with a raised fist before returning to its automated routine. "I knew it the whole time! Lexington Parsimonae is a member of the Dark Force Defense League!"