Author's Note: There is absolutely NO magic in this story.
Yes, this will be a Hermione Granger/Spencer Reid FanFiction.
The beginning of the story takes place during Season One of Criminal Minds.
For the purpose of this story, Hermione is 22 and Spencer is 24

Disclaimer: I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Criminal Minds. If I did, I'd be a whole lot richer.
Summary is from Criminal Minds season 2 episode 13 when Dr. Spencer Reid defines love.

Summary: It's hard to fall in love when you know that chemically, love involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, serotonin, and phenylethylamine.


"Which death is preferably to every other? 'The unexpected'."
- Julius Caesar


Quantico, Virginia
September 19, 2005
7:28 P.M.


"Happy birthday to me... Happy birthday to me..."

Hermione Granger was a woman sure of many, many things. And right now, she was absolutely positive that she had gotten herself into a horrible situation that she wasn't even confident she could get out of.

In short, she was well and truly fucked.

She regarded the room she'd been in for the past week with dismay tinged with anger – soundproofed and built out of concrete, Hermione had no way out. She trudged onto the twin mattress and glanced at the large plastic clock, then to the door with more than slight apprehension.

"Seven-thirty," she thought, licking her lips as sweat beaded her forehead. "Any minute now…"

"Happy birthday dear Hermione... Happy birthday to-"

The large door opened up without the slightest creak and she felt her throat close up in fear, blocking her airway as she stared at her captor. He brought with him a cup of water, a slip of paper, and a slice of what looked to be chocolate cake.

She loved chocolate.

And he knew she loved chocolate.

Hermione suddenly felt very nauseous. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to eat her birthday cake, after all.

"Baby," he crooned, upon seeing her huddled into the corner of the mattress. "Happy, happy birthday, honey"

"Please-" Hermione began to croak out a plea but cut herself off when the man began to caress her face.

"Now, now Hermione." He tutted. "You haven't been taking care of yourself, haven't you? My, your face is all puffy! Have you been crying again?"

"I-"

"I don't like it when you cry, baby. You know that." And she did know. She knew just how much he hated it when she cried.

She still had the scars and bruises to prove it.

"I-I- perhaps I wouldn't if you'd let me go."

Her captor shook his head and gently kissed the back of her hand. "You know I can't do that, my dear. Then how would I be able to protect you?"

Hermione shuddered in disgust at the feel of the man's chapped lips on her skin and forced herself to not flinch or to pull her hand away. She knew better than to give him what he was looking for and she absolutely refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how shaken she actually was. Instead, she let her red-rimmed eyes roam the man's face and noted absentmindedly how incredibly attractive he was – flashing grey eyes, artfully tousled brown hair and a jawline that could cut glass, Hermione- who had the I.Q. of 185 and had graduated with a PhD in Psychology- was enraged to discover that she had succumbed to the handsomeness and charm of the man before her. She had watched the news a few days before her abduction where the BAU special agent Jareau had warned the public about an attractive white man in his late twenties who had kidnapped – and killed – four women Hermione's age.

"Happy birthday to you..."

Hermione was harshly ripped from her inner musings and, with a slight jerk, identified the cause of her sudden discomfort.

The man was singing to her.

She blinked hastily as she felt tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.

"Happy birthday dear Hermione..."

"It's my 22nd birthday and I'm spending it with a deranged man - no, murderer - who has kept me in a room for seven days and is calling me 'dear'."

Hermione had the sudden urge to fall into a hysterical fit of laughter.

The man grinned widely at her, showing off his dimples and rows of pearly white teeth. "Oh, how mum and dad would've loved you..."

"Eat up!" He crowed and expectantly eyed the slice of cake and looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I-" She mustered up a weak grin. "Thank you, b-but I don't much like chocolate."

The birthday girl flinched as she spied the man's clenched fists and narrowed eyes. The vein on his temple began to throb and she could almost hear his teeth grit in anger and annoyance as he forced out:

"Don't like chocolate? You don't like CHOCOLATE?!" He suddenly stood up in front of her and grabbed her neck with a tight grip, and Hermione weakly clawed at his arms but to no avail- her face was already turning red.

"Please, God, don't let me die now..."

Her handsome man suddenly let go of her neck and grabbed both of her arms as he shook her wildly and yelled:

"I RESEARCHED! DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY! I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! THINGS YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW YOURSELF! Now-" He breathed in deeply and, after seeming to calm himself, let go of the tight grip he had on her arms. Hermione, still frozen, couldn't help but think of how much bruising she'd have on her body when she gets away and comes out of this ordeal alive.

"If..." She mentally chided herself. "If I get out of this alive."

"Now," Her captor continued. "Do you want to eat some of this DELICIOUS chocolate cake?" She did not miss the way he stressed the word 'delicious'. Nor did she miss the way his eyes seemed to harden as he asked her the question.

"More of a command, really..." Floated through her thoughts before she mindlessly flicked it away. It would not do well for her to show fear.

"I don't know what I was thinking." The young woman rasped out, willing the pain in her throat to go away. She sounded so weak. "Chocolate is my favourite type of cake!"

The man nodded in assent and chirped out, though not without an underlying hint of warning in his voice. "I know it's your favourite because I know you best. You know I love you, baby."

This was not the first time he had told her he loved her. He said it so many times that she knew just what he wanted out of her.

"I- I love you too." She dug her nails into the mattress, compelling the image of her throwing up to go away.

They stared at one another for a couple of minutes, manic fondness falling across his features.

"Well?" He asked. "Why don't you taste it?"

It took her a split second to realize that she still hadn't tried any of the cake.

"My birthday cake."

She hesitantly grabbed the plastic spoon- he never brought her forks anymore, ever since she tried to stab him in the eyeball the second day she'd been stuck in the room- and took a small chunk out of the cake. She paused, just before it went into her opened mouth and the man - upon noticing her reluctance- pushed the spoon in. She chewed slowly and Hermione felt that if he could, her captor would chew it for her just so she wouldn't take so long. She caught a glimpse of irritation flash across his face.

"It's delicious," She admitted softly. "It's really very good."

He said nothing but he nodded once. Twice.

Hermione deduced that he wanted her to finish the cake and she did, with deliberate slowness, but she made a conscious effort of keeping a smile on her bruised face.

"Good." He said, after she had finished it and continued cheerfully, radiating joy and flushed with excitement. "Now, you know what happens next, baby."

"Y- yes. Of course. " She nervously stammered, eyeing the cup of water he had brought with him.

The man began to explain the rules to "the game", as he did so every night since she was placed in the room. "I ask you a question and you have two chances to give me the correct answer. I won't give you hints and I will only ask you the question once. So you better listen." He warned, wagging a finger in front of her face. Hermione felt an animalistic urge to bite it off.

"You know what happens if you get the question wrong, don't you?" He tilted his head towards her in expectation and she nodded slowly, opening her mouth to answer before noticing how dry her mouth was.

"Happy birthday dear Hermione..."

She reached for the cup of water he had brought in and took a sip, relieved as she felt the cold liquid travel down her throat and the answer spew out of her mouth in its haste to dislodge itself from its meaning.

"I die."

"Happy birthday to me..."


Quantico, Virginia
BAU
September 12, 2005
10:06 A.M.


"Police reported another missing person this morning, said her name's Hermione Granger." Agent J.J. passed out the case folders to each of the members of the BAU before moving to the front of the room, the rest of the team swivelling their chairs to face her.

Derek Morgan furrowed his brows and asked, "How do they know she was taken by the same UnSub?"

J.J. turned on the screen and showed them a photograph of the girl- warm, chocolate brown eyes flashed in contrast with porcelain skin and half of the image was filled with long, riotous chestnut curls. Hermione Granger grinned widely at the camera, showing rows of brilliant white teeth. Hotchner's eyes immediately snapped onto the girl's neck, where a thin scar ran along the length of it.

"An accident, maybe? Or perhaps she'd been held captive before…"

Dr. Reid studied the file in front of him and said: "Well, says here that Hermione's 21 years old – her birthday's in seven days- and has an I.Q. of 185. She has PhDs in Psychology and Law and has a BA in Sociology meaning that-"

"She's just his type." Morgan finished, shaking his head before grinning wryly. "Sounds like the female version of our Boy Genius, huh."

The so-called "boy genius" just shook his head and flipped a page of the case file.

"Poor thing," Garcia's voice floated over the line. "She hasn't even settled in yet and she'd already been kidnapped by a man who's having psychopathic delusions."

"Hasn't settled in?" Elle Greenaway's voice was questioning. "How long has she been living here?"

"Lived in London for 16 years until she got accepted into Harvard." Garcia's eyes widened in awe and continued. "She graduated with two PhDs- Psychology and Law- and a BA in Sociology. Moved here about two months ago, stayed at the Holiday Inn at Dumfries for two weeks before moving in at 22 Owen Street, Stafford."

"Wait, two months ago? That was when the first body disappeared." Morgan exclaimed.

The rest of the BAU looked at one another uneasily.

Gideon narrowed his eyes and clasped his hands together. "Does she live alone?" He inquired.

"Uhhh…" The BAU could hear the clicking of Garcia's keyboards before she answered, "Yup. She didn't seem to know anyone before she moved here."

"Statistics show that at least 48% of people who move away from their homes are looking for a fresh start and at least 63% of those 48% are women who have been in bad, even abusive, relationships." Reid recited, staring intently at Hermione's neck.

"She does have a scar on her neck. It looks like someone put a knife on her throat, could be an abusive boyfriend?" Hotch asked. "Garcia, could you look for all the people that Hermione has been in a relationship with?"

"Honey, I could give you the names of every single person she's looked at or talked to." She replied, already tapping away on her keyboard. "Let's see here… There's a Victor Krum that she dated for a while when she was fourteen. Oooh, juicy!"

"Victor Krum? The famous Bulgarian rugby player?" Came from Morgan, whose eyebrows shot up almost instantly after hearing the athlete's name.

An image of a muscled man with a large curved nose, thick black eyebrows, and a surly expression appeared on the screen.

"He was eighteen when they got together. He met her when he went to England for a rugby match and was going into high schools to talk to students about hard work and determination and yada-yada –yada… Hermione got a lot of bad press from a columnist named "Rita Skeeter", got called a scarlet woman in a lot of her articles and received tons of hate mail from people raging from pre-pubescent teenagers to 40 year-old cougars."

"Where's Victor Krum now?"

"Victor Krum," Garcia read, "is currently residing in Bulgaria with his childhood best friend and wife, Darina Krum, and their two little girls, Iva (7) and Pavla (3)."

"Can't be him, then." Agent Gideon announced to his team.

Hotch swivelled around to look at Gideon in the eye before asking, "You think it's one of her old boyfriends?"

"Could be."

"Wait-" Greenaway interrupted, looking back and forth between her two superiors. "What was the point of kidnapping and murdering those four other women, then? If he just wants Hermione?"

The rest of the team looked at the images of the four other women- all with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Further research showed that all of them had I.Q.s ranging from 150-175 and now, all of them were dead.

"He was searching for her," Gideon answered. "He probably found out she was moving here and, knowing what she looked like, started to take women who looked similar to Hermione. Upon finding out that he captured the wrong person, he killed them."

"He also knew that she was a genius," Morgan continued, rubbing his chin. "Based from the other women he's kidnapped. But-"

"But they weren't smart enough." Elle's eyes widened in realization. "How did he know that they weren't her? How did he know that they weren't smart enough to be Hermione?"

"Questions." Reid answered, running his hand through his hair before looking at Hotch. "He asked them questions and when they got it wrong, he kills them! But, how about the other women? How did he know about their I.Q.s?" He wondered aloud.

Garcia's voice cut through their thoughts, "There are loads of online I.Q. tests nowadays and a lot of them ask for your name, your age… Sometimes even your address and your picture."

All of their shoulders visibly slumped, and Reid even whacked his head on the table. "That's a lot of sites with a lot of people running them…"

"Anyway, do you guys still want to know about Hermione's past relationships?"

"Go for it, Garcia."

A picture of a man with sandy brown hair and piercing blue eyes appeared in front of them. He was standing in front of a mansion looking very sharp in his black suit, an arm wrapped around a dolled-up Hermione Granger who was wearing an exquisite looking ball gown.

"There was a Cormac McLaggen when she was sixteen. He's the nephew of a prominent businessman, Tiberius McLaggen and he dropped out of Harvard when he was 21 to pursue an athletic career in soccer. He's also the current goalie of the Holyhead Harpies. Complete hottie- his eyes are the most wonderful shade of blue-"

"Garcia!" Hotch interjected amusedly, rolling his eyes at the rest of his snickering team.

"Anyway, they met at Harvard when he was nineteen and there is an article with Hermione and Mr. Hottie on it about a debutante ball that he took her to. She was referred to by a bunch of awful names and was written by, you guessed it, Skeeter."

"Seems like this Skeeter woman really has it in for Hermione, doesn't she?" Morgan said seriously.

"That she does, hot stuff." Garcia agreed. "Mr. McLaggen has been in France for the past two weeks preparing for a match against the Quiberon Quafflepunchers."

"Not our guy either." Hotch exhaled with a sigh. "Are there any more, Garcia?"

"Yup," Garcia stated, nodding her head. "Last but not the least, Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley."

A ginger-haired man- freckles scattered all over his pale skin- appeared in front of the BAU whose expressions showed varying degrees of surprise.

"He doesn't really seem to have any similarities with her previous beaus, doesn't he?" Elle inquired, tilting her head as if looking at the image of the man in front of her from a different perspective.

"Childhood friend of Hermione's- they've known each other since they were eleven. Their parents knew one another and they became friends through forced association. Even though she skipped several grades, the two of them kept in touch with one another and Hermione apparently thought of him and this other guy, Harry Potter-" here, an image of a man with windblown, messy black hair and emerald green eyes showed up on the screen next to Weasley's image- "as her best friends."

"When did they get together?"

"Ms. Hermione and Mr. Ginger here got together just two years ago. They moved in together after a year and they broke up just three months ago... Huh. This guy moves on quick. He proposed to his ex-girlfriend two months ago- a girl named Lavender Brown." Garcia announced, shaking her head in disgust.

The team perked up upon hearing that.

"He's trying to show Hermione how much better off he is without her…" Reid concluded in a matter-of-fact tone.

Morgan nodded. "And it looks like we just found the cause of her leaving. Garcia, was he abusive towards her?"

The agents sat in tense silence as they listened to the clacking of keyboard and the creaking of a chair.

"Nothing on him, sir. If he is, then no one's reported him."

"Where's Mr. Weasley now?"

"Uh, he currently lives just outside Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon, England with his parents."

"He's getting married and he still lives with his parents?" Incredulity laced through J.J.'s voice and she looked amusedly at Elle.

"Oui, mon cherie," drawled Garcia, smirking. "However, he is set to live with his fiancée in a nice little home after they get married on September 19th, 2005."

"That's in seven days…" J.J. mused before trailing off, eyes narrowing in realization.

"He's getting married on Hermione's birthday!" Reid yelped out, shock evident in his features.

Gideon chuckled wryly and twisted his lips in amusement. "He can be cruel but he just doesn't scream 'killer!' to me."

"I agree," Hotch said, looking at his team. "But where does that leave us?"

"With four murdered women, a missing female brainiac, and zero suspects as to who our UnSub is." Morgan huffed out in frustration and rubbed his face with his palm.


"Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you."
-Loretta Young


Author's Note: Thoughts? Don't forget to review!
Also, yes, those statistics were pulled out of my ass but I didn't want to bother actually looking for real facts. Sorry. However, the hotel and the house addresses ARE 100% real.
It took forever for me to write that scene between Hermione and her captor.

Translation: Oui, mon cherie - Yes, my dear.