Harry Potter and the Holistic Detective Agency

A/N: Hello there! I'm Azriel – call me Azzie – and this is the very first fanfiction I've ever written. So any feedback you have is very much appreciated : ) I hope you enjoy reading!

Summary: The members of the Holistic Detective Agency have dealt with a time machine before – but not like this. An owl on a kitchen table at half past four in the morning leads to a case that, at first, doesn't seem odd enough for the agency to tackle. That soon changes. Set during Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, how will the team come to terms with the events playing out inside Hogwarts? And what will happen when another remnant of Project Blackwing emerges from the shadows?

Disclaimer: Only one of the characters in this fic is mine – and they won't appear in this chapter. All of the others belong to JK Rowling and Douglas Adams.

Chapter 1: Why is there an owl in our kitchen?

Todd Brotzman hated being woken up before 9 o'clock – which was why, when Dirk Gently's panicked scream woke him up at precisely 4:36, Todd's first reaction was not concern; it was anger. As he dragged himself out of bed and stumbled sleepily towards the agency's kitchen, tripping over his flannel pyjama trousers as he went, he was contemplating how best to show Dirk his immense displeasure – a swift knee to the balls would probably work. Todd entered the kitchen, ready to give the bumbling holistic detective a piece of his mind, and stopped dead in utter bewilderment. There was an owl on the kitchen table.

Noticing that Dirk was sprawled on the tiled floor, watching the owl with a mixture of confusion and fascination, Todd couldn't hold back the questions. "What are you doing? Where did the owl come from? Why is the owl here? Why are you awake? Why were you in the kitchen? What the hell is going on?"

Dirk jumped slightly, glanced quickly at Todd, and then returned his attention to the owl. "I can answer two of those questions. First, I am having a staring contest with the owl, and I think I might be winning. Second, I am awake because I had a bad dream."

The annoyance on Todd's face softened into concern; Dirk didn't often complain of nightmares, but when he did it was clear that they were bad – the usually grinning Englishman was quiet, thoughtful, with the occasional frustrated outburst. "Are you okay? Was it, you know… Blackwing?" Todd knew that Blackwing was the subject of most of Dirk's nightmares, which was understandable; the psychological torture that he had been subjected to for the two months he was there would have an impact on anyone.

In the dim coolness of the kitchen, the silence was chilling. Dirk took several moments to answer the question. "It doesn't matter – what matters is that there is an owl in our kitchen Todd! An owl! Don't you see?" Changing the subject – he often did that when Blackwing came up. Todd could understand why he didn't want to think about it much.

"See? See what? What's the connection?" Todd sighed. He really wasn't in the mood for Dirk's 'everything is connected' speech while his brain was still lusting over his bed, so hopefully skipping to the important bit would mean that Dirk would explain the weirdness in the kitchen without repeating what Todd already knew.

Dirk frowned. "No idea. What would there be a connection to?"

Todd rolled his eyes, "Christ, even at 4:30 in the morning you're an irritating piece of shit." It seemed like that was Dirk's real talent: annoying everyone he interacted with.

"Actually, it's 4:40, and – oi!" The Englishman's brain had caught up with his ears and registered the fact that Todd had insulted him. "That's rude!"

"Yeah, that was the point." Deciding not to get into an argument, Todd decided to get backup involved. "I'm too tired to deal with you alone, I'm waking Farrah up."

Turning away from Dirk and the owl, Todd saw Farrah leaning against the door frame, looking just as tired and disgruntled as he felt. "Too late. I'm up. What's the owl here for?"

" No idea." Todd shrugged.

Farrah pointed at the owl, frowning slightly. " What's that?"

"An owl," Dirk said incredulously, looking at Farrah like she was a small child.

Before he had the chance to begin questioning Farrah, she cut him off. "No, genius – the thing it's holding."

Todd and Dirk's simultaneous question made Farrah lose some of the little faith she had left in both of their intelligences. "It's holding something?"

Farrah sighed. "You two are useless. It's a letter." She walked over to the table and untied the letter from the owl's leg, stroking the majestic bird gently as she did so. She unfolded the letter and began to read.

Dirk stood up, his usual grin firmly on his face. "Fascinating! Who is it from?"

"Give me a moment! I can't read that quickly." Farrah's eyes moved as she skimmed the letter, her expression of curiosity deepening into a frown as she read. "Apparently it's from a man named Albus Dumbledore."

Todd scoffed. "What kind of a name is that?"

Farrah bit her lip. "You might want to read this for yourselves – I'm completely lost."

Moving closer to Farrah, the boys began to read the letter.

From the desk of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Dear Mr Gently,

Todd looked up at Dirk. "He knows you? How?"

Dirk shrugged, clueless. "He says that someone gave him an address to send the letter to, but that the person didn't know why this address would be helpful – just that it would be. How strange!"

I do hope that my letter finds you, for I am in need of some assistance and I have been told that your people would be able to help. Although I must admit, the person who gave me this address said that they were unsure of how you could help, just that you would be able to. Enclosed is a newspaper clip that should hopefully shed some light on the events that have caused myself and my staff such concern.

In short, we need to find who put Harry Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire – a feat which should have been impossible. Considering that young Mr Potter could easily be harmed by the events to come in the Triwizard Tournament, we are taking this as a probable attempt on his life, so we are obviously very concerned and would appreciate your help as soon as possible.

Farrah had found the newspaper article, and was reading it with raised eyebrows. "Wait, look at this – this newspaper clipping is from 1994, but this Dumbledore guy is talking like these events are happening now. Does that mean we have another case involving time travel?"

Todd groaned, glaring up at the ceiling as though it could do something to fix the mess they had gotten into. "Great! Just great! As if the last one wasn't confusing enough!"

Dirk gasped, derailing Todd's train of thought. "That picture just moved!"

Todd glanced at Dirk, concerned. "Are you sure? You haven't slept properly, maybe your mind is playing tricks –''

Farrah interrupted him. "No, it did move – I just saw it!" She passed the clipping to Todd, who immediately saw what the others had seen: the picture at the top of the article was moving! It was of a group of teens, who looked like they would rather have been anywhere other than in front of a camera. One looked a few years younger than the others. Every few seconds, a bright light appeared, like a camera flash. Was it a gif then? But how had they managed to put a gif onto a piece of paper?

Todd passed the paper back to Farrah and pressed a hand to his forehead – all this weirdness was giving him a headache. Then again, he supposed that he should have gotten used to it by now, given that he hung around with Dirk Gently: the man was practically a magnet for odd things. "Oh God. What is it then – magic? Some sort of witchakookoo thing? Like Wendimoor? Because that was freaking nuts!"

Dirk looked thoughtful. "I think it's different to that – quite different. But it's definitely magic." He grinned, imagining what kind of magic they were looking at, and wondering whether he would be able to learn any. The brown haired Englishman had the energy levels of a toddler – and clearly the mental age of one.

"Fantastic." The sarcasm dripping from Farrah's mouth was so potent that they could practically taste it in the air.

Dirk squealed, smacking Todd's shoulder in excitement. "Look! This part says that Dumbledore got the address from somebody who came from 2016! So it does involve time travel!"

The person who gave me this address said that your team only works with the most bizarre of cases, so hopefully telling you this piece of information will capture your interest enough for you to come and help us: the address came from a person who has travelled here from the year 2016. At first, I did not believe that they were being truthful, and indeed suspected them of being behind Mr Potter's selection. However, after they showed me some extremely compelling evidence in their favour, I believe them fully and decided to take their advice and ask for your help.

If you show an interest in solving this case, you will be transported to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I will meet you to discuss an appropriate course of action.

Yours faithfully,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Todd groaned again, before swatting Dirk's hand away from his shoulder. The 'kicked puppy' look on the other man's face was priceless. "Oh joy."

"But, if this is time travel, how are we supposed to solve a case from 20 years ago if we don't have a time machine?" Farrah had an excellent point. No matter how great their interest was in the case, if the events they were supposed to be working with were happening twenty years in the past, how could they be of any use?

Todd noticed something that left a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. "Was that glowing before?" The piece of paper in his and Farrah's hands was glowing with a faint blue light.

Dirk appeared to be frowning and grinning simultaneously – in short, he looked slightly constipated. "I don't think so… Maybe it's the time machine!"

As Dirk reached out to touch the paper, Farrah sighed in exasperation. "Don't be stupid Dirk – a bit of paper couldn't be a time machine, surely -"

A sudden flash of light filled the kitchen, and when it disappeared, so had they.

Miles away, in the Rowdy 3's van, Amanda jolted awake, sweating profusely. It was just a nightmare, she tried to reassure herself. Just a nightmare. The empty feeling settling inside her was awful: why did she feel like something important had just happened? Looking over at Vogel, who was sleeping curled under a fluffy blanket on the floor of the van, Amanda reassured herself that everything was fine. If she was still worried in the morning, she could call Todd and the others. Yes, that would work.

Calling them would show her that she had nothing to worry about, for sure.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I'll try to keep these updates regular and frequent, but I can't make any promises. I hope you can stick with this story regardless and enjoy what I've written. Please, leave me some feedback so I can work on things to improve in later chapters. Thanks!

Much love, Azzie xxx