Story: Jon Dome, Private Eye
Author: StarDustTeen
Summary: Jon Dome is an ordinary investigator, but gets himself into a bit of a dilemma when his trained observation talents see what looks like a bit of magic. Things come into clarity all around him, and he struggles to find what he must protect.
Disclaimer: No. How many disclaimers have you seen? I'm sure they mostly contain these two letters.
By the way, I mean no offense to anyone named Mr. Lorde. The name simply seemed fitting.
Chapter One: The Sightings
Jon Dome, Private Eye was one of the top, most professional investigators, sleuths, and spies in England. Rich people would pay quite a high amount to have him find their gold plates, diamond watches, and perhaps €2000 Persian cats.
Fall 2017 took a toll on the English economy and it seemed that the amount of robbers and thieves were increasing. Jon was getting increasingly well paid, and his last case was to find a €3560 antique, platinum rimmed vase and had been paid €6000 for his troubles. Not bad, Jon, not bad at all, he thought to himself. Why, he was getting rich.
One Sunday afternoon as Jon lounged in his expensive black leather desk chair a rather ruffled man came in. He was wearing a brown trench coat with what looked like real gold buttons. This man strode in with an air of arrogance, and even though his previously immaculate slick brown hair was the smallest bit untidy he still gave off dangerous vibes.
"Inspector Jon." The man nodded. It was not said inquiringly—it was said as an order, without the slightest feeling.
"Yes indeed." Jon decided to play safe. "And you are?"
"How about Mr. Lorde?" the man asked.
This was suspicious. Quite obviously this man wanted to keep his identity a secret, which either marked him as a criminal, a man who wanted to keep himself hidden, or an incredibly insecure man. It was also obvious that it wasn't the last one—the supposed 'Mr. Lorde' gave off superior vibes and it wasn't something you could control.
"Very well, Mr. Lorde," Jon said smoothly. "What is your problem?"
"I daresay this is rather different," Mr. Lorde chuckled darkly. "This has to do —this has to be kept a complete secret, you understand? — With the existence of magic."
"Please do not waste my time, Mr. Lorde," Jon began.
"I chose you because the other investigators seem rather…non-believing. For your service I will pay you €1,000,000," Mr. Lorde interrupted smartly.
Jon nearly lost his composure. €1,000,000 for a simple, probably false case of magic was certainly a lot.
"Done," Jon said, holding out a hand.
The man nearly smiled. He shook Jon's hand, and suddenly erupted into speech.
"If wizards do exist," Mr. Lorde nearly gasped, "and we can control them, in my company, hundreds of thousands or possibly millions of magic-makers under my command, can you imagine how rich I will get? People will pay millions of dollars for a medi-witch to cure their children's fatal disease! They will pay thousands for bones to be healed! Magic knows no bounds! I will live in a palace of gold and platinum, with wizards as servants, witches as gardeners, and Aurors as guards! Can you imagine? Every single magical human in the world, living in my company's building, with ten to a room, all slaving away under MY COMMAND!" Mr. Lorde ranted.
Jon almost wanted to break the deal right then and there. However, it was quite obvious magic did not exist, so Jon would still get his 1,000,000 euro and Mr. Lorde his shattered beliefs.
Oh, well. It was worth it—wasn't it?
The next morning Jon set off to King's Cross to watch for any suspicious families or people walking into anything. Of course, it needn't be a barrier…perhaps it changed.
At lunch Jon unwrapped his Philadelphia cream cheese, tomato, and ham (try it, it's REALLY GOOD) Panini sandwich and looked around. He still had to take this seriously, even though it was highly impossible.
A middle-aged woman carrying a red handbag walked behind a crowd—and just disappeared.
Jon shot up and ran to the back of the crowd.
She simply wasn't there.
Jon walked back and eyed the spot.
Three children walked behind another crowd and disappeared.
There was definitely something suspicious going on. Jon marked that area down in his mind and set off back home. Three days later he will visit Scotland.
On his first class Singapore Airlines seat Jon watched a video on Scotland. There wasn't any mention of a castle that even was a ruin—perhaps everyone forgot about it.
Of course, in the book Hogwarts was severely charmed and protected from them, Muggles.
Three hours later the plane descended. Jon rented a sleek dark blue Lamborghini and loaded his supplies onto the backseat, and leaned back to enjoy the drive.
Driving past a forest Jon's detective eye spotted a barely discernable dirt path with grass down the middle. Swinging off the road, he found that the two wheels fitted perfectly on the dirt gouges.
Rather curious, he continued down the road.
He suddenly remembered that his mom would be very, very angry and have one of her infamous yelling fits if he didn't get back to a safe area and call her.
Oh, wait. Didn't J. K. Rowling's famous Harry Potter series say that Hogwarts had such a charm placed on it?
Why, yes.
Jon banished all thoughts of his mother's fits out of his mind and tried to continue driving.
No! This wasn't working!
Jon unloaded his foldable bike and slipped a knapsack full of food, water, and supplies onto his back, and rode on.
There was a turn in the road. Jon felt like he wasn't moving, and pedaled harder. It didn't work.
He got off, leaned his bike onto a tree, and hiked on.
He had to turn back, now! Yes! Now! Why? No reason! Now!
NO!
Jon sprinted forward and rounded the bend that was two feet away in five minutes.
At least it worked…oh, wow.
Hogwarts, in all its splendid glory, was resting just around the corner.