A Professor Goes Missing

Monday night. It happened in the first ten minutes. The Professor stood, cleared his throat, said “Welcome to Magic University” and was gone. Not left. Gone. The lecture hall sealed itself behind a great deal of enchantment, and the first-years turned, every one of them, to look at me.

I am an owl. I am not a lecturer. But I was the only member of staff left in the room, so I did what the Professor would have wanted, which is to say I stared at them meaningfully until they began to look for him.

Somewhere in this university is an artefact strong enough to break whatever has hold of him. I know it is here. I don’t know where, and if I did I would not write it down; students who are handed the answer learn nothing, and the Professor would never forgive me.

Class after class came through today, in twos and fours and eights. Every one of them was polite to me. One offered me a sultana. I am considering whether that counts as a bribe.