Author's Note: This is primarily a Dirk Gently story and secondarily a Harry Potter story. I don't own Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency nor The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul. Those were written by Douglas Adams. I also don't own The Harry Potter novels. J.K. Rowling wrote those. And lastly, I don't own, "Kaleidoscope." That's a Procol Harum song.
Journey with Tonks and Dirk as they discover the mystery of what happened to the great wizard hero, Mad-Eye Moody.
The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Wizarding World
Chapter 1
In the corner of a rather dingy little office on Peckender Street in London stood a wobbly hatrack leaning anxiously under the weight of a long brown coat and a hat of the remarkable variety- remarkable because of the remarks that it caused people to make, such as, "Wow, that's very...red," and "Was that actually intended to be a hat?"
The office also contained a filing cabinet, an overflowing wastebasket, and a battered desk smothered in papers, grimy coffee mugs, crumpled and sadly empty cigarette packs, and filthy paper napkins bearing the name of the pizza parlor down the street. Behind the desk stood a chair with one leg which was inexplicably shorter that the other three. Seated all over this chair was a rather portly private detective. Dirk Gently was the name under which he worked and "holistic detective" was his preferred title. He was, at present, on the phone.
"Yes, Ms. Rowling, or may I call you Jo?"
There was a frantic babbling on the phone.
"Ah, yes, Ms. Rowling, I do appreciate that the actual cost was greater than the anticipated estimate, but you must understand..."
More babbling.
"As I was saying, Ms. Rowling, the interconnectedness of all things impelled me to procure several items as you can see from the itemized expense form my dearly departed secretary sent to you."
Sympathetic babbling.
"No, no, she hasn't died, just departed. As I was saying, Madam, the list includes such unfortunate and unforseen expenses such as: one brass plaque inscribed with the words, 'Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency,' a carton of cigarettes, one gold Rolex..."
Angry babbling.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Rowling, I think this is a bad connection," Dirk said as he crumpled a used cigarette packet into the phone receiver. He was just jamming the phone back onto the cradle when the door to his office opened and in walked a pretty young woman with a perky little nose and equally perky pink hair. She wore a slight frown.
"Wotcher, Dirk."
The chair gave a clunk as he pushed off of it and trundled across the room to greet the young witch in his doorway.
"Tonks, what a nice surprise!" he exclaimed. "Come in and sit down." He led her into the room and then looked chagrined when he remembered that there was only one chair in the office (for reasons we won't go into right now) and that being a gentleman meant he had to relinquish it to the young woman.
He was, however, relieved of the obligation when she waved her wand and caused another chair to spring into existence.
She sat.
So did he.
"Dirk, I need a favour."
"Anything for you, dear lady." Dirk pulled a pizza box out from under his desk and offered Tonks a slice. It was cold, greasy, and slightly rigid.
"Thanks." In reaching for a slice, Tonks knocked over an empty cup and several pens rolled off the desk. "Oh, sorry," she said after taking a bite.
"Inconsequential, I assure you," he assured her. Then, just so she wouldn't feel awkward, he knocked a stack of papers onto the floor with his elbow.
"What's this?" said Tonks, reaching down to retrieve a fallen newspaper. The headline read, "Mysterious lightning over England- Natural phenomenon claims government spokesman."
"If you prefer a more colourful version," said Dirk as he pushed a tabloid toward her. That headline read, "Lightning or Alien invasion? What the government isn't telling us."
"I consider them both rubbish. Tell me what you know, Tonks."
"That was the night my friend and mentor, Mad-Eye Moody, went missing. That's what I came to talk to you about." She looked sadly down at her bitten pizza.
"Go on," urged Dirk, leaning heavily on the desk.
"It was the night we were on a mission and there was a battle." She paused to wipe a tear away with the sleeve of her grey hoodie. "A curse hit him full in the face and he fell from his broom. My husband and our friend went to retrieve his," her voice choked at this point, "body. But they couldn't find him. I have such hope that he's still alive. Maybe he was captured and is being held in a dungeon or something worse!"
After all of the strange and disturbing phenomena Dirk had witnessed: time traveling professors, eagles that turn into airplanes, thunder gods, and mysterious bundles of keys that don't go to anything, talk of jetting around on broomsticks and shooting curses was tame business indeed.
He tipped back in his chair to think, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. He began to sing under his breath. "Lonely in the dark I grope"
"Dirk," interrupted Tonks. "That's the song that was going through my head the night Mad-Eye went missing. What is it?"
Dirk wrinkled his brow and shut his eyes, but it was just out of reach. He grabbed a wadded up packed but found it empty. "I can't think without a cigarette."
"Oi, Dirk! That's a nasty habit."
He ignored the comment and got his coat and hat. "Come along."