Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

“Hm,” Fenton said, exchanging bewildered glances with his wife. “I have no doubt that all will be revealed in the future. However, what we need to do now is concentrate on finding Joe. Frank, I need to know exactly what happened—why are looking at me like that?”

Frank shook his head. “Sorry, Dad—it’s just…it’s so hard to believe now that I’m safe at home that you’re a…well, you know…”

“A wizard?”

Frank nodded, then began trembling uncontrollably. “We’ve got to find him,” he whispered. “Before they hurt him more. What they did to him…us…but mainly him was horrible.”

Laura guided Frank to the bed and he sat, trying to calm himself down.

“Frank, Joe’s life is on the line here—tell us everything.”

Frank was about to speak when there was a soft knock at the door. “Hold on,” Fenton ordered. “Frank, Laura, why don’t you come down with me—it’s Dumbledore. He needs to hear everything as well.”

Frank nodded again, and the worried family made their way downstairs. Fenton went to the door while aura and Frank sat down. A moment later, Dumbledore entered the living room, accompanied by three teenagers. Frank looked at them curiously while Fenton hastily invited them in. Laura asked them to sit down, and Dumbledore conjured several chairs from thin air. When they were seated, Dumbledore said, “Allow me to introduce Ron Weasly—“ he inclined his head toward a tall, gangly red-head boy, “—Hermione Granger—“ he nodded at a pretty girl with bushy brown hair and slightly crooked teeth who was eyeing Frank with interest, “—and Harry Potter.” He smiled at the last boy with jet black hair, stunning green eyes, and a thin lightening-shaped scar on his forehead.

“And this is Fenton, Laura, and Frank Hardy. It is my hope that you shall meet young Joe in the near future.”

“You’re Harry Potter?” Frank asked, amazed. At Harry’s nod, he continued, “Voldemort mentioned you.”

The Hogwarts trio looked at him in amazement. Dumbledore smiled. “I take it you have remembered what happened.”

“Yes sir…but how?”

“I have a theory about that,” Dumbledore said, “but first you need to tell us exactly what happened after the Death Eaters—Voldemort’s servants—attacked you.”

While this was going on, Hermione turned to Laura and Fenton. “It is a pleasure meeting you all,” she said with a sad smile. “I’ve read all about you and you’re sons’ accomplishments, of course, Mr. Hardy. I only wish I could meet Joe as well.”

“Oh you will,” Fenton said, trying unsuccessfully to sound offhand, “when we find him.” He looked as if he were going to cry.

At that moment, Dumbledore motioned for all to be quiet and Frank shakily began his story, all eyes on him. “After they…stunned us,” Frank stumbled over the strange new magical terms, “I woke up in a dark, damp room. I have no idea where I was being held at, and the best description I can give of the place is that the walls and floor were made of dirt, and there was no door, although one appeared when Voldemort—“ Ron flinched at the name; everyone ignored him, “or his accomplice wanted to go in or out. When I woke up in that room, I was tied up and Lucius Malfoy was standing over me.” Harry’s teeth clenched when Frank mentioned Lucius, but remained silent at a look from Dumbledore.

Frank continued, voice shaking. “Joe was tied up beside me and he was unconscious. When Lucius took the…stun…off him, he was still really woozy because Lucius kicked him in the head.” His voice grew as he got more worked up. “I mean, there was this huge bruised swelling on his head! If I would’ve been free, I’d have killed that scum then and there!” He closed his eyes, sighed, and went on. Frank continued the story, relating what had happened to him and Joe. When he got to when Lucius tortured Joe, Fenton stiffened in his seat and Laura’s eyes filled with tears. The three friends looked down at their feet, feeling sorry for the family and Joe. Only Dumbledore kept direct eye contact with the distressed youth and urged him to go on.

Making sure to save the startling revelation about Iola until last, Frank, with tear glazed eyes, related how Voldemort had used the Imperious curse to make him stab Joe. Recalling the look of pure horror and anguish on his brother’s face, Frank broke down. He didn’t care that his parents, Dumbledore, and three teenagers he barely knew saw him. All he knew was that his brother was in the clutches of the wizard everyone feared—some wouldn’t even speak his name. He tried to continue, but his voice caught in his throat and tears fell down his face. Laura put a hand on his back and tried to comfort him, but was on the verge of tears herself. Her baby was missing—his life in the hands of a madman, and her eldest, Frank, the cool-headed, calm one, was falling apart. She had never seen him so distressed—but then again, Frank had never stabbed Joe before either.

“Was he badly hurt?” Dumbledore asked when Frank had calmed down.

Clearing his throat, feeling a bit embarrassed for breaking down, Frank said, “I don’t know. He passed out right before Voldemort used the curse to get me to say that if Joe was to live, Dad would join with him. Then he took away memory and I found myself here.”

“Is that all?” Fenton asked with a heavy heart.

“No,” Frank said, dreading this next part. His voice was threatening to break as he said, “Voldemort had a daughter.”

Dumbledore looked at Frank sharply as the others gasped. “Impossible.”

“No, sir, I promise…he told us…he never told anyone, even his followers that he got married. Then he got mad at his wife, and when she ran away to America to save herself and the baby, he tracked them down. She had let someone adopt her daughter. Voldemort found her and killed his own wife. His parents too.” Dumbledore nodded. How could he have missed this? He mentally chided himself on not knowing.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at Frank. “Are you trying to tell me that You-Know-Who was a father?” Ron asked, awed.

“Son, do you know who his daughter is?” Fenton asked hastily. “Where is she?”

This was going to be harder than he thought. Frank blinked back the oncoming flow of tears as he whispered, “She’s dead.”

“But do you know who she was, Sweetie?” Laura asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from Frank’s expressive brown eyes.

“I-Iola.”

Laura and Fenton sucked in their breath. “Are you sure?”

Frank nodded. Dumbledore frowned. “That was Joe’s girlfriend that was killed in a bombing, correct?”

“It wasn’t a bombing. Voldemort put it in the car—a form of disguised magic. He meant to kill Joe, not Iola. He thought if he could kill one of your sons, you would be so scared of losing the other that you would willingly submit to his will. He blames Joe for Iola’s death. That’s why Joe’s been the one tortured. The one that was kept instead of me. The one who was stabbed. The one who’s going to die whether you join or not, Dad. I could see it in his eyes—he is angry at Joe and is going to kill him no matter what. His only hope is that we find him. And fast. If not, Joe’s done for.”

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.