Our dear Professor Severus Snape wore a pitch-black nightshirt, his face even paler and gloomier than usual.
He strode into the crowd, swept his hollow black eyes over the scene, and curled his lips into a sneer of utter mockery.
"Voldemort? If the Dark Lord has the leisure to steal an unauthorized building, perhaps I should reassess his intelligence."
Snape walked to the center of the clearing, lifted a blade of grass with his wand, and held it to his nose.
"No stench of dark magic. Only a... nauseating, affected trace of some so-called Eastern aesthetic."
He spun around, his black robes billowing like a giant bat.
"It doesn't take Holmes's detective mind to work this out."
Snape's voice was full of certainty and disgust.
"Who else could do something like this but that egomaniac who treats Hogwarts as his own back garden, building and demolishing whatever he pleases?"
"Go straight to Douglas Holmes."
Snape spoke coldly, his eyes gleaming with a look that said, I knew he would cause trouble.
"This must have something to do with him. Or rather, this is another one of his... performance art pieces? Or an attempt to conceal evidence of some crime he doesn't want us to see."
"But, Severus."
Professor McGonagall frowned. Although she too felt Douglas probably had something to do with this, as deputy headmistress, she had to insist on evidence.
"Douglas has hardly been at school since the holiday ended."
"And to move such an enormous tower without a sound..."
Professor McGonagall looked at Flitwick.
"Filius, do you think one person could do it?"
"Theoretically, it's impossible."
Professor Flitwick floated in midair and shook his head, two adorable blue jets of flame shooting from the backs of his flying boots.
"Unless he has fifty times the magical reserves of