Death of a Dark Lord: A Whodunit

She ran into my office on a Monday afternoon. Her shiny, curly red hair was behind her shoulders, slightly messy from her dash, her brown eyes wide and her pretty, pale face was a slightly flushed pink color from running. She caught her breath and stood tall, only slightly shorter than me. I could tell from my desk because my growth chart was behind her.

I took a sip of my lime Kool-Aid and clicked the ace of Diamonds up to its spot on the computer screen. I'm 0-4 on my solitaire record since this morning.

"What can I do for you Miss...." I said, going into detective mode, turning slowly in my leather swivel chair and facing...

Ginny Weasley? My Dark Lord, she's gotten pretty.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, placing a slender hand on her perfectly shaped hip.

I spread my arms around my office. "Why, Weasley, this is the detective office. And I," I put a hand up to my chest, "Am the detective. Draco Malfoy, at your service," I said, tipping my stereotypical detective hat.

*****

It all began 2 years ago, when I discovered that I knack for solving cases. It all began when I couldn't find the keys to my Porsche. Found them in a box of cereal. Cap'n Crunch, my favorite. Yum.

Wacky, ain't it?

Well, after that, I set up shop here. As a private eye. And I was doing pretty well. Great, in fact. Couldn't be better. Until SHE walked in. And then didn't leave. It brought back all sorts of memories. At Hogwarts, when I used to tease her, when I used to knock her books out her hands and not help her pick them up, the Cap'n Crunch I had for breakfast... yum, Cap'n Crunch.

In short, WHAT THE HELL WAS GINNY WEASLEY DOING IN MY OFFICE?!?!?!?!

*****

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," she said.

"You're a real mind reader, Weasley," I drawled, looking longingly back at my solitaire game. It was to go into screensaver mode any second now...

"Look," she started, pacing the floor; "I came here to report..."

"Report what?" I pressed, eager to hear what she wanted to report.

"I'm using a dramatic pause, Malfoy," she said flatly. The air of suspense suddenly exited the room faster than Muggles do when someone farts in an elevator.

"Sorry," I muttered, and it returned.

"I'm here to report..." she made her dramatic pause again, this time, without me interrupting, "a murder."

Excuse me? "A murder?"

"A murder," she replied, nodding her head.

"Of who?" I asked, interested. A murder case, solved, of course, would be excellent for my reputation.

"Voldemort," she said simply, as if it was her cat or something. Like the Dark Lord got murdered everyday. I swear I heard my jaw drop. After restoring it to its respective place, I congratulated her.

"What?! I didn't do it," she said, shocked, "I discovered him."

"Sorry, babe, he already has an agent."

"No, you idiot. I discovered the body!"

"Oh. His body needs an agent?" I asked, grinning. "Because I could hook you up with someone..."

"He was in the kitchen... by the toaster!" she exclaimed dramatically, ignoring my sarcasm.

"Gasp," I said. "Wait," I said, backtracking, "What were you doing in Voldie's secret volcano lair?"

"I think that you're in the wrong movie, Austin Powers," she said sarcastically.

"Oh. Ok, so he doesn't have a secret lair in a volcano. Why were you in his residence?"

"He bought a house last year. It was to be his headquarters for world domination. He told me. See, I'm his interior decorator."

"Classy," I said, "How do you think he died?"

"Well, he said he was going to make toast..."

She didn't need to say anymore. The guy may have been a very powerful Dark Lord that was bent on killing all Muggles and Mudbloods and Squibs, but the man no had common sense. He and Harry Potter really are alike. I mean, look at Potter. He's an advice columnist.

"When I discovered him, there was a fork in his hand, and syrup, butter, a glass of orange juice, a vase of daisies, and jam on the table. The toaster was, like, 2 feet away, and it was black and charring. Most of the metal was melted."

"So the toaster exploded. Happens all the time to muggles."

"Yeah, but this toaster must have had EXTRA jolts of electricity. Which makes me think that it was planted!" she said dramatically. This woman really has a flair for drama.

"So says the interior decorator," I said sarcastically, which earned a nice glare from her chocolate eyes, "But what do you care, Weasley?"

"He owes me money. I'm the best interior decorator that money can buy," she said.

"Aren't we Mrs. Modest," I said, sneering. "Miss," she corrected, automatically.

What? "What?"

"I'm not married, nor am I seeing anyone," she said, looking impatient and showed me her right hand. No ring, the woman spoke no lie.

"I was redecorating his bathroom. It's a forest motif with a hint of countryside by the bathtub."

I won't even take the time to ask about the bathtub. This guy was apparently REALLY scary.

"Um... cool?"

"It looked awesome. Like the real thing! And now I'm never going to get paid!" She sounded like she was going to cry. "That sounds like a motive to me," I muttered so she couldn't hear me. I wrote 'Ginny = killer' in my little flip notebook on my desk and underlined killer a couple times for emphasis.

"So who's your prime suspect, MISS Interior Decorator of the World?" I asked her.

"My own brother!" she cried melodramatically, placing a long, slender, and horribly pale and freckled hand on her forehead.

"Ron?" I asked, referring to her older brother who is my age. The git, killing off the Dark Lord.

"No, my other brothers -," Ginny began to say, but I interrupted. "Percy?" That egotistical and pretentious git, boring the Dark Lord with cauldron bottom thickness. Poor man probably killed himself.

"No, my OTHER -"

"Bill? Charlie? Bill AND Charlie?" Those gits! Double-teaming the Dark Lord with their dragons and goblins. And that hair, absolutely hideous.

"Fred and George for Christ's sake!" she yelled. Oh yeah, them. THOSE GITS! Killing off the Dark Lord with their silly little wands and tongue toffees.

"Oh. Any particular reason why?"

"Because, the toaster came from their joke shop!" she said, irritably.

"How do you know, Miss I'm-just-going-to-prance-around-and-accuse-my-brothers-of-the-murder-of-the-Dark-Lord?" I had to take a breather after that one.

"Because... it had the double W´s on the back. Weasley and Weasley Co. on the back."

"Oh. Ok. Let´s roll!" I said, fishing my keys out of the 2^nd Cap´n Crunch cereal box from the left. The Crunch Berry one, my all, all time favorite Cap´n Crunch. (I buy multiple boxes to confuse and discourage burglars from stealing my Porsche keys and because Cap´n Crunch is my favorite cereal. Yum.)