Part 12: The Day of the McLaggen

My accusation of Blaise had drawn mixed responses. Blaise raised an eyebrow, Pomfrey looked surprised, and Bones was evidently trying to hold herself up despite having gone incredibly weak at the knees by the sound of my velvet voice.

'What on earth are you talking about?' asked Bones. 'How could Blaise have committed the murder? And why would he want Creevey dead?'

'I'm glad you asked that question, Bones,' I replied, as my mind prepared to unravel the ball of twine that was this mystery. 'Blaise Zabini snuck into the castle late last night and struck Creevey with the broom. It was all quite simple for him after Perkins had already checked the coast was clear by coming up earlier in the day. Permit me to explain.

'Blaise and Perkins, the latter of whom was disguised as a student, used the floo network to enter the Slytherin common room several hours beforehand. Blaise had visited the castle many times in the past to help solve crimes, as Bones so helpfully informed me earlier. It would have been all too easy for him to sneak off to the Slytherin common room during one of these visits and interfere with the fireplace, hooking it up to his own. Perkins, realising he needed an excuse to go to the hospital ward, picked up a book from a nearby table - the library book that Blackwell had borrowed. Blaise and Perkins left the common room, and Perkins went off to check that the hospital ward would be suitably empty later that night. Upon returning, Blaise and Perkins realised they didn't actually know the password to get back into the common room, so they hid in the dungeons until the time was right. They merely tossed the book aside, figuring it would no longer be of use.

'In the dead of the night, Blaise snuck down to the quidditch pitch to collect a broom, knowing that to use his own wand to commit a murder would be foolish as the spell could be traced back. Instead, he decided to frame it as a quidditch-inspired killing. Finding not only the broom of the Gryffindor captain, but also the golden snitch, Blaise quickly decided who he wanted to set up. Derrig had, of course, rushed straight from the pitch to the hospital wing after the match to check on his many hurt teammates, and left all his quidditch gear behind. The only downside was that Derrig had a very indistinct type of broom, one shared by many other players, so Blaise quickly scrawled Derrig's name on the handle rather haphazardly. No quidditch player with any respectability, and I should know, would deface his own broom in such a way.

'Blaise committed the murder, threw the snitch under the bed, and left the broom at the scene of the crime. After I cunningly neglected to look around the hospital wing, or even look at the murder weapon, Blaise needed to plant the seed of doubt in my mind about the Gryffindor captain. Stopping Derrig on his way to the hospital, he told Derrig that Creevey had in fact been relocated to the fourth floor, knowing that Derrig would have to pass by us and I would consider it suspicious. Of course, there is nothing suspicious about a Gryffindor captain being fooled, because in my own personal experience Gryffindor quidditch captains are some of the dumbest people to ever walk the earth, and wouldn't know a quality keeper if he hit them in the face with a bludger. Several times with a bludger, in fact.

'Knowing that all evidence pointed to Blaise was one thing, but without any suitable motive I knew my accusation would not be taken seriously. It just so happened Mr Zabini provided me with that himself when I first encountered him at the castle. Unfortunately for the detective trade, mysterious killings have dried up recently and we're not quite in as high a demand anymore. So desperate was Blaise for paid work, he was going to ensure Hogwarts would forever need his watchful eye by attacking students whenever he so needed. The only flaw to the plan was this was the first mystery when he wasn't called upon. This was the first mystery that they finally called in an expert. And if it was Bones' duty to hire the detective, that begged one important question from the beginning – How did Blaise even know a murder had taken place?'

My explanation, that had taken what felt like an hour, had left mouths open throughout the room. It was Blaise who spoke first, looking as shocked as any of them.

'How on earth did you work out every single detail?'

'Wait...you mean that was right?' I asked with an air of both confidence and handsomeness. 'I was just making stuff up hoping you'd be sent to Azkaban.'

'And it was all I needed to hear,' spoke a new voice. Headmistress McGonagall strode into the room. Perkins, who had been walking beside her, now hid behind a nearby plant.

'Blaise Zabini, you will be escorted off the grounds and taken to the Ministry of Magic to await trial. I thank you for your service to this school, and hope we never have to work together again in the future.'

Blaise silently wandered out through the doors, followed by McGonagall and a walking plant.

'Don't feel bad, Blaise,' I called after him. 'You were beaten by the best.' This statement was highlighted by my wand firing off sparks accidently and setting fire to the bed of Aspertame Flack. It was nothing a little water and a friendly slap to the face couldn't fix.

Bones' mouth was still hanging open in a most welcoming way. I sauntered back over to her to accept her praise and proposal of marriage.

'McLaggan I...I don't believe it. You actually did it! You caught Blaise just as Derrig was about to be expelled and sent to prison. I...oh McLaggen, I love you.'

Bones' sudden hatred for me aside, I had most certainly lived up to my title of 'world's cheapest detective.' To say my brilliance made Albus Dumbledore look like a failing first-year was an understatement to say the least. Truly, on this day, I was the finest human being who ever existed.

'McLaggen, may I just say, I've been wrong about you all along,' began Bones. 'This whole time we've been working together, I'd started to think you were some incompetent, womanising, delusional man-child-'

'I don't know where you'd get an idea like that.'

'-but I now realise you're just a misunderstood genius. And I know it doesn't make up for my attitude, but I'd really like for us to get out of this castle and maybe grab a drink at the three broomsticks. And then maybe I can grab another kind of broomstick, if you know what I mean.'

'Thank you, Bones, but I'll have to decline. You see, now that my work here is done, I must return to the thankless life of a private eye. And no offence Bones, but you're really not my type.'

Once again Bones' mouth hung open, this time in adoration and understanding. I waltzed out of the castle, and back to a world that had a little adventure, a little danger, and a whole lot of pure unbridled McLaggen.

'But McLaggen!' Bones desperately called after me. 'Think about it. When we work together we can do anything. We could really be something great.'

'But Bones, don't you see? We were something great. We were McLaggen.'

I sat in my office, watching the clock on the wall tick slowly over, and watching the termites eat through the floor. It was getting late, almost 3.30pm, and I was getting ready to call it a night, when a fine-looking dame came wandering through my door. Her legs were like two long industrial pipes leading into a sensual vat of toxic waste. Her long blonde locks reminded me of the long blonde padlocks I had to break through to get into this office in the first place. Her eyes, the portals to the soul, served her as portals to my pants.

'I'm looking for the world's finest investigator, Blaise Zabini,' she spoke breathlessly. Oh yeah, she wanted a piece of McLaggen alright. But why cut her off one slice, when she could have the whole cake, and maybe have seconds if she still had room.

'Cormac McLaggen at your service, ma'am. And I think you'll find that anything Zabini can do, I can do faster.'

'Actually, I need a man who can help me find my missing husband. He went on a holiday to a mountainous region, and I haven't seen him in weeks.'

'I wouldn't mind seeing your mountainous region, if you know what I mean,' I said with sincerity and understanding of the unfortunate situation.

I could tell by the mixture of horror and disgust on her face, that I had just secured my newest client. And this time, just maybe I'd solve the case on purpose.

THE END

But Cormac McLaggen will return in...

From McLaggen With Love