Note: Cop/Modern!AU Warnings for murder and potential triggering descriptions (This is a separate, yet the continuation of another story of mine: Criminal Minds)


A beggar dragged himself and his bountiful cart to the street corner, leaning against the side of the building when he reached his destination. He sat down, sighing in content as he reached for a glass bottle in his cart.

His gloved hand popped open the cap of the bottle, bringing it to his lips.

Bang!

The beggar dropped the bottle as life left his body.


Neville rubbed his forehead with his fingers as he leaned on his elbows on the table. Beside him was Draco, who was swishing from side to side slowly in his chair and picking at his nails.

Blaise was tapping away at his phone while Daphne was writing something in a file.

Ginny was opening her laptop at her seat at the table when Harry and Hermione walked inside the office.

"Morning, everyone," Harry greeted as Hermione took her seat and nodded towards Ginny.

"What's the case?" she asked, looking at the redhead.

Ginny cleared her throat, tapping at her keyboard. There were pictures that appeared on the projector screen that caused Blaise and Neville to flinch.

"A sixty-five-year-old John Doe was found last night in Cheyenne, Wyoming, a single round in between his eyes," Ginny explained. "There was no casing around the body, so it's assumed to be a professional hit or a lucky one."

Blaise clasped his hands together, swallowing whatever was caught in his throat. "Has the local PD gotten anything else?"

"Do they actually need us?" Draco drawled.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Obviously, Draco. Why else would the files be approved to us?"

He grunted before Ginny's glare was felt in their direction.

"If you let me finish," she started, "you would know that there's another shooting near that location. An accountant was found on a park bench with the same M.O: a single shot between the eyes."

Another picture was sent to the screen to show the man.

"His name was Philip Bulstrode, thirty years old, and so far I've found no connections between him and the beggar," Ginny continued.

"So there's a serial sniper on our hands," Harry said, rubbing his hands. "It's the only way to have that much precision both times with no GSR traces or shell casings."

"Anyone could be a target, so we need to get there quickly and aid as best we can," Hermione added as she stood up. "The jet's going up in ten."

Hermione was the first out of the office, followed by the rest of the group. Once they were all on the jet, they set off for Cheyenne, Wyoming.


On the way to Cheyenne...

Daphne rocked her leg as she looked at the file in her lap. "The way both men were killed suggests a skilled hit, yet their locations suggest it's random."

"They're both men, perhaps the unsub has a vendetta against men," Blaise suggested.

"You think it's a woman?" she asked, cutting her eyes towards the man.

Blaise shrugged. "Women can be just as cutthroat as men. We both know that."

"As true as that may be," Hermione said, "the gender won't be undetermined until we figure out what these two victims had in common to be targeted in the first place."

Harry nodded in agreement, examining his own file. "We could be dealing with a soldier with PTSD. I find it difficult to be a sniper with this much precision without having the training for it."

"Unless they're the obsessive sort and were self-taught," Draco said. "Remember that case in Philadelphia?"

"I'd rather not remember that case," Neville replied, shuddering for emphasis.

Draco snorted with a smirk, muttering something under his breath while Neville glared at him.


The group was standing at the scene where the accountant was killed. Hermione stood close to the bench with a frown.

"I don't see a clear trajectory for a sniper to shoot this man," she said.

One of the policemen pointed to her left. "The John Doe was shot on the street corner that way," he told her.

"Something about this strip could be significant to the unsub," Harry said. "To shoot two men mere meters away from one another in the same time frame is significant."

Daphne shifted towards the policemen. "Has anything ever happened in this area? Anything major?"

The policemen looked at one another. "We typically hold festivals and parties on this side of the lake," one said.

Draco and Blaise walked around the area in hopes of seeing a building the sniper could have taken a shot.

Neville took out his phone and called Ginny.

"Flaming red tech genius, at your service," Ginny said.

Neville chuckled lightly. "Gin, could you pull up any incidents that may have happened in Holliday Park? Go back as far as records allow."

There was tapping sound that could be heard. "I don't see anything...woah."

"Woah? What is it?" he asked.

"There was a shooting two decades ago, a child was killed. The report ruled it an accident, said that his brother, Thorfinn Rowle, was responsible as he was holding one of the carnival game guns."

Neville bit his lip as he listened to Ginny. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, the brother wasn't tried, however, it states that he was in and out of the juvenile prison before being sent off to an army camp."

"Is he still alive, Gin?"

"Uh...no. He's been deceased for three years."

Neville looked down, shaking his head. "Alright. Thanks, Gin. If you see anything else, let me know."

"You've got it."

Neville hung up, slipped his phone in his pocket, and met with the others by the bench.

"I thought I had gotten a lead," he said, "but it could be a dead end."

Hermione shook her head. "It's still a lead that could bring us to another conclusion," she replied. "What is it?"

"Ginny found a child death happened here two decades ago," he told her. "The child's death was put on his brother, Thorfinn Rowle, and he was in and out of juvie until he was sent to an army camp."

"What's the dead end?"

"He died three years ago."

Hermione cursed under her breath, glancing at the officers. "Did you know about this?"

"N-No," one of the men said.

"We've only been in the station three years. No one mentioned a case like that to us," the other said.

"So my obsessive theory sounds more plausible, eh?" Draco remarked, walking up to the group with Blaise behind him. "If it's not the brother, someone else is remembering that day, and they intend to prove that the brother didn't do it."

"We need to figure out what really happened to that child and why the unsub has chosen now to do something about it," Harry declared.

Blaise pointed in a direction behind them. "While we do that, there's also an apartment building that might be worth looking into in regards to the trajectory."

Hermione nodded. "Alright. You, Draco, and Neville go to the building. Harry, Daphne, and I will go back to the station with the officers and see what we can figure out from the old case."

With everyone in agreement, the group split and went their separate ways.


The sound of a gun barrel being twisted onto a gun echoed around the room. A leather gloved hand reached for a case of bullets, loading the gun.

The gun is cocked, and an eye peered into the scope attached to it.

"We'll be together soon...I promise."


In the station, Hermione, Harry, and Daphne were standing in front of a bulletin board with papers and pictures pinned from their current case and the case from before.

"From what I am seeing, Thorfinn was accused of shooting his brother because he was holding one of the carnival guns in his hands," Harry said. "I don't see anything that would explain otherwise."

"A gun in your hand doesn't make you a killer," Daphne pointed out. "He was a child. Why would he have the gun in the first place?"

Harry raised a finger to respond to Daphne but slowly lowered his finger. "Good point."

"The only one that would have a carnival gun would be the ringmaster in a circus or one of the game stations," Hermione said. "Seeing as the log doesn't show there was a circus tent, we're looking for a game station that would need guns."

Her eyes scanned the list, stopping at one point. "There was a shooting gallery." Hermione clenched her hands into fists as she took a deep breath.

"Calm down, 'mione," Harry said.

Hermione released the breath and unclenched her hands. "I am calm." She cleared her throat.

"Someone took the gun, accidentally shot a child, and put it on his brother," Daphne concluded. "Who was working that station?"

"There's not a picture of the worker," Harry said. "Though, there's a name. Leopold Yaxley."

Daphne took out her phone, dialling a number. There's a pause before she started talking. "Ginny, what all can you get from the name Leopold Yaxley?"

"Just a second…" Ginny trailed off. "Leopold Yaxley was a carnival worker for years, quitting a few years back. There's nothing else in his history that's worth mentioning for this case."

"Is there a picture of him?" Harry asked.

"Yup. It's sent to your phones. He would be in his sixties now, but this picture is from his carney days."

Hermione and Harry looked at their phones before meeting each other's gaze. Hermione held her phone to Daphne.

"Who does this look like?" she asked.

Daphne peered at the screen and licked her lips. "I suppose our John Doe isn't a John Doe anymore."

"And we have a connection to the cases. We're on the right track," Harry said.

"Thanks, Gin," Daphne told the woman on the phone.

"Anytime. If I find anything else, I'll give you a call."

Daphne hung up, grabbing a marker to write on the board. "Leopold Yaxley aka our John Doe was the carnival worker for the shooting gallery. The unsub killed him because he was supposed to keep watch on the gun?"

"Or because he was the shooter in the first place," Harry suggested.

Hermione rubbed her chin. "Then why kill the accountant? Yaxley, we now understand, but other than that, it's like a work of fiction. Just pieces of a story put together that leaves it full of holes."

"The guys could be having a little more luck," Daphne said.

"They could be in more danger," Hermione replied. "Call them and get them back here."


The men in question had checked nearly every floor in the building so far in such a swift time; it was possible because it turned out to be a business studio rather than an apartment building like Blaise and Draco thought. They were on the top floor, intending on going to the roof if this floor was a bust.

At a creaking sound, Neville whipped his head towards a corner in the corridor. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

Blaise shook his head. "No. Stay alert."

Draco stopped, examining the doors and floor. He held up his hand. "I think I heard it too, Blaise," he said, pointing towards a door. "Go check that out."

"Why should I?" Blaise demanded in a hushed tone.

"Because you claim you don't hear anything," Draco remarked.

"I-I'll do it," Neville offered.

Blaise gestured towards Neville. "See? Let the man do his job."

"How you're a criminal behaviour expert is beyond me, mate," Draco muttered.

Blaise gave a cheeky grin and didn't stop Neville as he headed for the door Draco directed him to.

Neville steadily held his gun as he opened the door and looked inside. "Draco...Blaise...you have to see this."

The source of the creaking sound came from a film roll being played for a projector. On the screen was two men laughing as they walked along a dirt path; they were in camouflage clothing. One man had an arm slung around the other's shoulder in a comfortable manner.

A wall was decorated with guns hanging on racks, but there was one missing. Upon further inspection, it would be identified as a sniper rifle. Whoever was occupying the room was nowhere in sight.

"We need to let the others know what we've got here," Neville said.

A ringing caused the men to jump, but Draco pulled his phone out of his pocket. He answered it, listening to the person on the other end before hanging up.

"They've got some news for us as well," he said. "Let's go."

As they left, Blaise cleared his throat. "We can all agree not to mention the jumping thing, yeah?"

"Agreed."

"Absolutely."


Everyone had gathered together at the station and were listening to a quick profile to keep an eye out for the unsub while the last of the evidence was connected.

"We're looking for a middle-aged man who has military training and feels as though he's avenging someone close to him," Hermione said to the officers.

"He's probably already picked his next target, or he's planning to have himself killed," Draco added.

"Why would he do that?" an officer asked.

"This unsub has an obsessive compulsion to do right by their loved one and will likely want to be with them after the avenging is done," Daphne explained. "If he's killed everyone on his list, then he'll want to be reunited with that loved one."

"In this case, the loved one is already dead, so that's his intentions," Neville added to her statement.

"It's only a matter of time before he strikes again," Blaise told them. "So it's our job to figure out if there's another target, or if he'll appear soon."

Harry nodded. "Let's get to work, ladies and gentleman. I fear we may not have much time."

The policemen in the station left the area, doing as they were told. Hermione turned to the group and clapped her hands together.

"I talked to Ginny after you mentioned the video. She said that the army camp that Thorfinn was sent to actually shipped their graduates into the actual army. From the video and records, the man beside him was Antonin Dolohov," she told them.

"So it could be this Antonin man doing the killing," Neville said.

Hermione nodded. "Considering his expertise was sniping, it would be a safe bet to assume that's our man."

"We need to tell the officers about this," Daphne said.

"I have Ginny sending the information to the chief. He'll distribute the name and face to the officers while we're in here trying to determine the next target," Blaise replied as he was texting on his phone.

"What does Bulstrode have to do with this?" Draco asked. "If that's the last connection, we need to be prepared for another target in case–"

"In case I decided to show up and blow everything in this station to Hell?" came a deep, raspy voice.

On instinct, everyone had their guns in their hands in the direction of the voice. The man was tall, his physique couldn't be determined by the amount of clothing and bombing wires he had on his body. The camouflage shirt around his shoulders had a name tag with the last name Rowle on it.

"He's stupid enough to walk right into the precinct?" Draco whispered. "How the hell did he pass everyone looking like that?"

"Sometimes fortune favours the stupid," Blaise whispered back.

"In case you two haven't noticed," Daphne hissed. "There's a man with a gun and bomb attached to his body. Shut it."

"You don't want to do this, Antonin," Hermione said in a steady voice. "Thorfinn wouldn't want that.

His dark, beady eyes flashed with anger. "You don't know what he would want!" he roared, his dark hair sticking to his face. "He confided in me. Me! We loved each other, and he was taken away from me because of people like you!"

"We know he was accused of killing his brother as a child," Neville said. "We know he didn't do it. We aren't the same policemen that hurt Thorfinn."

"Yes you are," Antonin growled out. "He told me he was given the gun from that Carney piece of shit. That a shot was heard, and the gun was put in his hands. 'Take care of it, kid' he told him. My love shouldn't have had that guilt on him!"

Harry held a hand out. "We know that, and we want to prove he's innocent."

"It's too late!" Antonin yelled. "I found him hanging, the letter explaining that he couldn't let the guilt take him anymore. He believed he hurt his baby brother, and for that, you must pay!"

He pulled out a remote but was stopped from pressing it by Blaise's question.

"Why did you kill Bulstrode? Why did he deserve to be killed?"

A cruel grin grew on Antonin's face. "Everyone needs target practice every once in a while," he said. "Now prepare to–"

Bang!

Antonin's face contorted to one of astonishment, staring at the hole in his body. His final expression showed one of peace before he fell with a hard thud.

A policeman ran over to his body, examining him. "The bomb wasn't real," he informed them.

The group put their guns down, breaking a sigh of relief. Once everyone's weapons were back at their sides and a medic came in to claim the body, Draco scratched the back of his head.

"So the obsessive part of the profile was love. To do this three years after the man's death? That's madness," he said.

Hermione shook her head. "There is not much difference between madness and devotion," she replied as she looked at Antonin's body being taken away. "And he was clearly devoted to Thorfinn."

Blaise stretched. "Who wants to get this paperwork done?"

Hermione and Harry shook their heads, leaving the area. Daphne took Neville with her while Draco clapped Blaise's shoulders.

"Good luck, mate," he said.

Blaise watched them all leave. "I wasn't volunteering!"


A/N: Written for The Houses Competition and HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)

(THC) House: Gryffindor; Year/Position: Year 5 (Standing In); Category: Short; Prompt: [word] obsessive

(HSWW) Assignment #6 Media Studies Task 4: Write a Serial Killer!AU, Alt: Write about someone who is an expert in something

Word Count: 2,998