Disclaimer: I make no profit for this story (a part from a moral and intellectual profit :) ). No characters from JK Rowling or Criminal Minds belong to me. *disappointed sigh*
Couple: Harry/Derek
Warning: AU, Slash (BoyxBoy), lemon, scenes of torture, violence, mention of abuse.
Answer to questions:
Are Hotch and Rossi aware of the magical world?
No, but profilers are perceptive human beings. I am certain that they will one day surprise us. ;)
Is Garcia a witch?
No, you have just fallen into the trap by your humble's servant's horrible word play.
Criminal Mind's character summary: In response to certain reviews, I told myself that it would be easier if I added a "little" summary of things to know about the BAU team for those who haven't seen or barely seen Criminal Minds. For the knowledgeable, it will be interesting to read it as well since I changed certain chronological details so that I won't have any problems later in my fic. Just for your information, the fic starts during season 3, a few months after Rossi arrives to the team (approximately episode 12). If later on you need complementary information on a character, don't hesitate to ask me by PM, I'll add it in a later chapter for everybody. ;)
Aaron Hotchner or Hotch (approximately 45 year old), hight 1m88 (6'2"). He is the unit chef in the BAU. When he was little, his father was a workaholic lawyer who would beat his brother, Sean, and him. Their father died when Sean was still a child. He worked at the general attorney's office before coming to the FBI. He was married to Haley Hotchner with whom they had a son, Jack. He is very invested in his work, but this caused problems in his relationship with his wife, up until to the point where she asked him for a divorce recently in this timeline. He is a tall man with short black hair and always wearing a costume. We rarely see him smile and his deadpan humor is a bit dark.
David Rossi (approximately 55 year old), hight 1m82 (5'11 ½"). He was Sergeant Major in the Marines before coming to the FBI. He is a legend of profiling at the FBI, he was one of the first profilers. He has a reputation of a playboy and the rules against fraternization between agents of the FBI has been created mainly because of him. He was married and divorced three times and is rather rich. After having taken an early retirement, he wrote many books on his BAU cases, but finally comes back to the Bureau, haunted by a case that hasn't been solved yet … He is a middle-aged man, salt-and-pepper rather short hair and wears a beard. He has a preference for a more brutal method than subtle, and we know that he has a caustic and abrasive humor.
Derek Morgan (6th June 1973 — 34 year old), hight 1m85 (6'1"). Born of a black African father and a white American mother, he grew up in Chicago with two sisters, Désirée and Sarah. When he was 10, his father, a police officer, died in service and Derek started to frequent gang members. He found refuge in Carl Buford, who took him under his wing and helped him win a scholarship to study. Two years ago, the BAU members had discovered that Carl had abused and raped Morgan by chance, while Morgan had been accused of the murder of one of the raped children. He is an expert profiler in obsessional crimes, in explosives and has already done an undercover mission during eighteen months … He is a muscled man (black belt in judo) with a shaved head and light brown skin, usually wears a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He is fiercely protective of his colleagues, especially Reid to whom he is like an older brother, and likes to flirt with Garcia.
Jason Gideon (approximately 55 year old), hight 1m85 (6'1"). (He doesn't normally appear in this story but I prefer to describe him since his departure is only a couple of months old and he still has a great influence on the characters.) He is Reid's mentor to whom he has a father-son relationship. He is an extremely talented profiler who was even in charge to supervise certain members of the CIA. He left the BAU after a psychopathic killer killed his companion.
Spencer Reid (12th October 1981 — 27 year old), hight 1m85 (6'1"). He us the youngest member of the team. A genius with an IQ of a 187, he finished high school at 12, where he was often the victim of bullying and mocking. His father left the house when he was young, forcing him to take care by himself of his paranoid schizophrenic mother. When he turned 18, he place her in a psychiatric hospital and writes to her a letter every day. He has an eidetic memory, also known as photographic, meaning that he never forgets what he has seen or read (but this doesn't apply to what he hears) and is capable of reading 20 000 words per minute. It was Gideon who helped him enter the BAU in 2004. He has a Doctorate in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering, Psychology and Sociology and he is now in the midst of acquiring a Doctorate in Philosophy. A significant episode is when he was captured and tortured by a killer with three personalities which caused him to use Dilaudid, a psychotropic drug. He is a tall, lanky young man with long light-brown hair, dresses classically in a "well-mannered" style. One of his habits is to quote statistics and not always relevant to the topic.
Jennifer Jareau (22nd July 1978 — 29 year old), hight 1m69 (5'6 ½ "). She is the agent in charge of the liaison between the team, the medias and local police services. She isn't technically a profiler, but she is the person who decides which case the team should take care off. She is in a relationship with William J. La Montagne, a policeman the BAU had met one year ago. She is a woman with long blond hair with an average hight, depending on the day, she wears a costume or something more casual. She is a bit the mother of the team, and she is also the one in charge to keep the ego of the profilers in check.
Emily Prentiss (12th October 1978 — 37 year old), hight 1m73 (5' 8"). She traveled with her mother, an ambassador, nearly all her life, enabling her to speak fluent Arabic, Italian, Spanish and can hold a conversation in Russian. She graduated from Yale and worked for 13 years at the FBI before transferring to the BAU. In the beginning, the other members of the team thought that she used her mother's influence to get the job, but in the end, thanks to her capabilities, she found a way to be accepted. She is a tall woman with long brown hair going towards black and a fringe, always wearing a suit. She has a very good relation with Morgan and often goes out for a girls' night with JJ and Penelope Garcia.
Penelope Garcia (approximately 33 year old), hight 1m70 (5'7"). Her parents are dead due to a drunk driver when she was eighteen. She then abandoned University and worked as an illegal hacker, up to the point that she was added on the FBI's list of most dangerous and important hacker of the world. She was then recruited by the FBI to work for them. A few months ago, she was shot by a killer who was then caught and killed by JJ. She is a slightly plump blond, with fair hair that she likes to dye, always wearing very colorful clothes. She has a very optimist personality, always working at full speed and loves to joke around. She has a flirting relationship with Morgan, without wanting to go further, and has protective feelings for Reid.
For your information: Harry (31st of July —27 year old) and Haley Hotchner (Hotch's wife) is 1m68 (5' 6") tall.
Diana Reid is 1m83 (6) tall.
Author's note: Hello to all! First of all, thank you to all who have reviewed and/or added this story to your lists! You fuel my ego and pride as an author (which isn't something very good if you listen to my friends x) ). Thank you, thank you, thank you!
As usual, a special thank you dedicated specifically to Nana Egedan who, not only helps me during class, but corrects my mistakes in this fic! Don't hesitate to write reviews to give me your opinions, impressions … your dislikes (without trying to flame me of course). It will be my pleasure to answer you!
Now, enjoy =)
Personal AN: Alrighty, a new chapter is up and I'm finally back in school. I thought that the summer vacation would have allowed me to write more but my summer job (at McDonalds) enabled me to do that.
On an another note, I am sorry to say that one of my stories "Champions' History" has been deleted. So, if this story ever gets deleted (you may never know and I pray that it won't happen) here is what you'll have to do:
If you find this story deleted, please go on my profile. There, you will see a link to my other account on AO3 (Archives Of Our Own) where everyone of my stories are updated there and stored as back-up.
And finally, A Very Special THANKS to my lovely beta Ariel's lover whom not only corrects a lot of my mistakes but is encouraging me on to continue translating. I am also proud to say that she will be my official Beta (*wipes eyebrow* you are a life-saver).
Now, read this story, write a review and say how brilliant Markhal is. ^^v
PS: This is one of my favorite chapters as well. Poor, poor Hotch.
Current Status of the fic: Un-beta since my beta is swamped with work. I'll put up the beta version when she is done.
A little translation note; a reviewer pointed out that they didn't understand the word "Metis". It's a French word meaning "someone of mixed heritage" like our lovely Morgan.
Chapter 3: Discussion and Information
Somewhere between Quantico and Stanford —FBI's private jet —12th of January
Reid was re-reading the file. Once again. After the first time, the action was stupid, he was capable of reciting the text word for word, but he was using everything in his power to try to avoid looking at agent Black. The newest member. Who was only a year older than him. And that weirdly similar to the little boy of his dreams.
I am going crazy.
The rational part of his brain was telling him that he must have seen a photo of Black before and that his dreams were nothing more than his sub-conscience sending him Freudian dreams and that the child looked like Black for that reason. However, he knew that a normal person had approximately 1460 dreams per year and to have 72 time the same dream in the past three months was more than a coincidence. He was older, with more scars on top of than and not wearing glasses, but he could find the messy black hair, even if a tiny bit tamed by gel, big green eyes and a face a but more angular with more pronounced traits, even if always the same, that he could see in his dreams.
Black was acting weirdly. Maybe he was one of those persons who hated to see someone younger than them have a high rank. Reid immediately discarded that idea. He was a senior! While he was only twenty-seven! Maybe he didn't like people more clever than he was … No, it contradicted with the profile from Gideon's files.
He hadn't told his colleagues and friends from the BAU, but the mysterious agent had not only worked with the most experienced agents of the bureau, but has also have been interviewed many times by Jason Gideon, his mentor. Reid, as soon as he heard the name of Harry Black, had remembered the file in the stuff that had gotten after … the abandoning. Many pages were missing, and numerous parts of the text had been censored, but he had access to the basic information — the scores at the cadets' Academy and the professional career, for example — as well as the draft of the profile. That was why he knew his birthdate, the fact that he became a cadet when he was sixteen, was a special agent since he was eighteen year old, and had been promoted to team leader when he turned twenty and since then had only positive comments from the other services whom he collaborated with it. Even if he was frequently qualified as someone "extreme" and "imprudent". Even if with these remarks, Gideon had qualified him as loyal to his friends, knows how to be humble or knows his true worth when he needed it, but was at the limit of recklessness and of aggressiveness when his life was on the line, often impulsive with a relatively respect of the rules which gave him a lot of problems. Out of everything he gathered about Harry Black, he was some sort of genius. Maybe not of the same caliber as Reid, but you needed something to be accepted in the FBI so young, right?
So, if was a genius himself, why would he have a problem with him?
Reid put back the file with a sigh. If the murmurs between Morgan and Prentiss had stopped to look at him, he ignored them. JJ was talking with Hotch about the eventual problems of conflicts with the staff of University, while Rossi was arguing that it will be the students themselves who will oppose resistance. Finally, he risked a glance at Black.
The agent seemed even smaller than before. He was sitting on the chair nearest to the exit, eyes closed and the face pale. Between his lips, he was whispering something, surely to prevent himself from screaming. Remembering the first time he took the plane, and of the fright that overpowered him him from take off to landing, up to the point where he had recited the first thirty digits of pi, the entire periodic table and had started Shakespeare's plays, he felt compassion. Despite his apprehension, Spencer approached Black.
"Phobia of heights or afraid of planes?"
Black allowed himself to open an eye to see whom was addressing him. Spencer wasn't so sure of himself, fixed by that green eye, but he relaxed when the man gave him a feeble eye. "Plane."
"If it can reassure you, there is one in a billion chance that a crash can occur, reduced by one in a four million two hundred and fifty thousand chance since this is a privet FBI jet which is even more inspected than other planes in case of a bomb attack."
Suddenly, the other agent burst into laughter, looking at Reid with bright eyes. "I'm afraid that you and I have a tendency to go agains statistics, Dr Reid," he said with an amused voice, but tainted with irony that Spencer couldn't figure out the significance.
"At every statistics, it's exception." Reid shrugged lightly. "I saw you speaking earlier and I remembered my first flight where I did the exact same thing to calm down." He sat down in front of Black after he was invited by a gesture.
"I tried to forget that I was in a giant metal coffin thousand of meters in the air. But you are much more entertaining that any recitation that I memorized.
"I … I don't think that I am as amusing as you think I am, Agent Black."
"To believe is what's the most important!" Declared with a smile of someone who not something you didn't.
FLASHBACK
"To believe is what's the most important, Harry!"
END OF FLASHBACK
Spencer was confused for an instant. Another memory?
"Please, Dr Reid, just call me Black," he continued on. "Not just because we only have a year difference, but at the very least so that I don't feel as if I aged ten years."
Reid blushed and accepted immediately, returning the invitation, to which Black responded with a smile.
"Your attention please. We will land in less than half an hour so I'll be distributing the tasks. Morgan, you and Prentiss will look at the dump sites and interrogate potential witnesses. JJ, Reid, go to Police Headquarters. I would like for Reid to establish a geographical profile, maybe it would help us establish a reason as to why the suspect chooses these Fraternities. JJ, prepare a press conference, the students have to be warned that danger is lurking on campus. Rossi and I will discuss with the Directors of the University of the measures placed to watch over at night."
"And Black?" Morgan couldn't help himself but ask, looking at him from the corner of his eye.
Spencer felt the tension coming from the man sitting in front of him. He saw him bring his hand to his belt next to his holster, and calmed down instantly.
"I know that I look young, but up to the point that I would need a baby-sitter … I should warn you, I am a very difficult child, agent Morgan," said Black, a mocking smile floating on his lips.
"That's not I wanted to say, I —"
"What Agent Black does," interrupted Hotch, "does not concern you, Morgan. He will be on the site of the campus, but will be conducting an annexing investigation. The only instruction concerning him, beside our own office, Harry Black is a student like any other, understood?"
Every agent gave their agreement, Morgan sending a dark look to the young agent at the same time. The latter ignored him and did a false admiring exclamative.
"Agent Hotchner! You are my hero!" Spencer fixed an incredible look at Black. Did his cockiness transform in suicidal tendencies since his last interview with Gideon? It was now Hotch's turn to send a thunderous look to the young agent who didn't seem disturbed and even sent a mocking smile. Was there some story behind all this?
"I thought you were afraid of planes, Black?"
Black's smile disappeared in a flash and his face regained his deathly paleness. Reid even thought he heard him grumble about sadistical unit chefs and of a vengeance that he would savor. Spencer raised an eyebrow at Hotch's abnormal behavior. Even if his unit chef kept a passive face, it was clear that he was amused at the way the agent was acting.
"45% of the undercover agents wound up being hurt," said Spencer to Black, in a conversational tone.
Black laughed feebly. "Really, Reid? Let's hope that I'm part of the 55% that's left then."
"7% are killed." Why couldn't he just shut up? Fortunately Black didn't seem to be bothered by this.
"Thinking carefully, I think that I prefer the 93% chance to stay alive," he joked.
Deciding that he had been sufficiently humiliated, Spencer stood up to go back to his seat. "I … think that I'll be going, the plane is going to land so—"
"No!" Instinctually, Black's gloved-hand had grasped him. The next moment, he released him, a streak of red-embarrassment on his cheeks. "Er … I mean …"
Spencer stared, shocked, at the new member of the BAU. However, he sat back down and fastened his seatbelt, his eyes on the man in front of him. Black sent him a grateful look. He looked relieved to not face the landing by himself.
"Thank you Reid."
Reid didn't reply. He was questioning his behavior and feeling of familiarity on which he acted at the moment. A protective instinct of which he wasn't aware of had awoke, an instinct that both seemed natural and strange.
What was happening to him?
Spencer sent a shocked look to the new BAU member. But, he sat back down again and put on his seatbelt, staring in the eyes of the man in front of him. Black sent him a grateful look. He looked relieved to not face the landing by himself.
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
Stanford, California — On the way to the police station — 12th of January.
"So Spencer, I see that all is well with Black," started JJ when they were alone in the van.
"Hm, did you know that by driving at a speed of a hundred miles per hour (161km/h), a car would take more than twenty-seven billion of years to reach the nearest star?" Spencer was so occupied in trying to think at something else than the agent in question, that he found again his habit to quote the first statistic that went though his head.
"No, I didn't know that," said JJ after bursting into laughter. "I'm glad that you are getting on well with him."
"Me too, he … he reminds me of someone I knew."
"Ah? Who?"
"I can't really remember that well …." And that's the problem.
JJ looked surprised. After all, with an eidetic memory, forgetting was nearly impossible. The rest of the journey was spent with periodical anecdotes on California, the university campus and the Fraternities. Agent Black wasn't mentioned once.
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
On the way to the campus — 12th of January.
Morgan and Prentiss have been driving for two minutes in the silence before Morgan declared, in an observing tone:
"I don't like him."
Prentiss didn't need to ask who he was talking about, letting just an amused smile express what she was thinking, which only made the Metis growl. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, intensively focused on the road, before showing his teeth at his friend who had finally abandoned all pretense of control and was laughing out loud. At that moment, Morgan's telephone rang.
"Please, Baby Girl, cheer me up by proving that kindness still exists in the world!", he said after Prentiss had answered and put it on speakers.
"I can do that and show you at the same time the sweetness and the love of a woman," she chortled, "But why would my chocolate Apollo would need some cheering up?"
Before Prentiss had the time to answer, Morgan intervened: "Nothing, nothing. So, what do you have on Black?"
Garcia paused and started talking again, in an unusual serious tone. "We are dealing with something big, my sweets. I found the first file on Black like I thought it was, in the FBI data base. This guy is like a machine: cadet at sixteen, special agent at eighteen, promoted at twenty and apparently the favorite to be the Director of the service when the latter will be retiring! And that's not all, he received a distinction from the White House and the Queen of England herself for, I quote, 'having saved England and the world from the danger that jeopardize it."
"Have we more information on the subject?" enquired Prentiss.
"And that's where it's get complicated, my chickies: Harry Black wasn't named 'Black' ever since the year 1998, when he became agent of the FBI, and a part from the mention of the medal received that year in his professional file, all that concerns his past or his name is classified top secret of all top secrets!"
"I'm having trouble deciding if it some good or bad news," declared Morgan, pensive. The agent's accent was now explained, he must have spent many years in England.
"I think that we should stop there," said Prentiss, uneasy. "I agreed to pierce the mystery of Black, because it seemed important to help Reid, but he and Black seem to have no problems between them now …"
"And I can certify that none of the cases that Black worked on with the other services have implicated our sweet doct—"
"You don't understand." Derek has never cut in when his Baby Girl when she spoke, not in this manner: cold, implacable. "There is something about him, you said yourself! We must know what is happening."
Morgan himself didn't even realize that his antipathy against Black blinded him. He didn't understand why but he needed to know what was between him and Reid. Morgan was telling himself that it was to protect his friend, but something else inside of him was pushing hime to continue his quest.
"Morgan, you know very well that I would follow you anywhere, but we risk uncovering things that Black doesn't want us to find and I think that you alone know that some things are better left untouched," told him gently the technician on the other end of the line, alluding to the Carl Buford case which revealed to the team the raped and abused childhood of Derek.
"Garcia, we'll call you later," finished Prentiss when she understood that Morgan would say nothing else.
The rest of the journey remained in silence.
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
Stanford's Campus, — 12 of January.
Harry didn't like Derek. He really didn't at all.
First of all, he was complaining that he was to young, then Harry was certain to have heard him mock his accent and finally, he was treating him like a child who needed to have his hand held and protected! Happily, Spencer's presence calmed him, otherwise despite the metal surrounding the plane, the wizard would have tried a couple of jinxes on the arrogant profiler.
He had been surprised when Spencer had accosted him in the contraption. While Harry loved flying on a broom, the fact that being on a plane, incapable of doing magic (due to the metal and the technology in the machine) to save his miserable life in case there was a problem at a thousand meters from the ground, was making him nervous (but who wouldn't be?). Strangely, hearing Spencer's voice had the same effect as when he was a kid: it had calmed and reassured him, giving him the urge to run his hand in Reid's hair, like when they were kids. Telling himself that Reid didn't remember those moments where he had cheered him up, as well as the moments where they laughed and had had fun like any kids of their age, hurt him. But erasing Reid's memory and his family had been for the good of the Wizarding Word.
Another friend sacrificed for the greater good, thought painfully the young Auror, thinking of Ron, Hermione and all of the others, dead to defeat Voldemort. All the rewards he had received, even those offered by the leaders of the Muggle World in the know about their existence, couldn't erase the sour bile that was left after the death of his friends. No posthumous gratification couldn't bring solace to the Boy-who-Lived.
He had changed in the back of the van while Hotch and Rossi finished anticipating the reunion with the staff. Good-bye agent of the FBI's suit, hello young dynamic student! He had put on a midnight blue long-sleeved T-shirt and very tight jeans; he even added gel in his hair to make it lie backwards and added a few spikes to look more 'en vogue', exhibiting his old scar in the shape of a lightning bolt and the three vertical scars that were the vestige of Fenrir Greyback, leader of the werewolves allied to Voldemort.
Of course, he kept his precious black gloves, indisputable elements for his mental well-being. He may not be as talented as his nephew Teddy, who had the Metamorphmagus gene, but not everyone was an empath and Legilimens, et also, his transformation wasn't to bad.
He left the two senior agent, promising to phone them later, a back-pack with a few clothes, his medication and his mobile as his only possessions. Since he worked in the USA, he used many times this device, even if it was always outside of the bureau, due to the spells in the Auror division, technology and electricity didn't work at all.
His first stop was at the Kappa Pi house where the first murder had been committed. He lurked in the area, but he could gather no interesting information a part that the president was the type to party late at night and that everyone was very shocked by his death since he was well liked. He had the same speech for the two others. When he arrived at the fourth area where the crime was committed just three days ago, he felt something different.
The Tau Gamma Alpha were medical students, the type to party and to wake up in unusual unknown places the next day. That they were only the fourth targeted par the suspect was a miracle. Harry took the time to us Legilimency on some of the students who were loitering outside, collecting essential information on the fraternity to not be uncovered. He thanked his mother once again for the gift she gave him and entered the building … to find Prentiss and Morgan in the middle of an interrogation with the acting president, a student with short blond hair and blue eyes who looked ready to explode.
"And at what time did you find the body?"
"It was around eight. He was there, in the middle of the entry hall, like he had fainted after drinking to much," The student shivered. "It was when I wanted to wake him that I understood he was dead and if we hadn't heard about the other fraternities, I would have thought that it was a party that didn't go well …"
"You mean to say that … that type of incidents happens frequently?" Asked the female profiler with a disgusted look.
"Listen. University is the occasion for many to live our last years of freedom before finding a job 24/7. Some parties never did much harm …"
"We understand perfectly," said the profiler with a peace sign. "I remember my own years at university, and the state I would come back," he added with a smile. "The entry hall is frequently unoccupied?"
The strategy of the good cop bad cop was old as the world, but it always worked since the student calmed down and answered:
"That depends on the days, generally there is always someone, especially the days where we are holding a party."
"And the night of the murder?"
"Night at the Nu Kappa Chi."
Morgan and Prentiss noted the information before taking their leave while asking him to contact them if someone remembered something. They passed by Harry who looked at them with feint curiosity. He observed the Prentiss' look, slightly wide-eyed at his sight, but he ignored it in favor of the new Tau Gamma president. As if he done it all his life, Harry extended his hand and shook the hand of the student the same way he saw in the minds of those outside thanks to Legilimency.
A secret handshake? Really … At least at Hogwarts we had a secret password!
"Hey man, I've never seen you hear!" The blond told him.
"I'm James. I've just arrived on the campus but I'm part of the Tau Gamma of Denver. I've come to support the fraternity in these difficult times. Say, who were they?"
"Oh, some FBI agents, they're asking questions about Chris' murder. My name is Sam, by the way, the … the replacing president of the Tau Gamma.3
"My condolences for Chris, Sam. Life's a bitch, eh?" Said Harry with a scowl. He didn't need to fake the tone, the bitterness was there naturally.
"I wouldn't have said it better, James. You are staying in area for long?"
"Just a couple of days, can you lodge me? If I'm bothering, I can go to the motel near the entry of the campus, I—"
"I'll do anything for a brother of the Tau Gamma Alpha," Sam interrupted him, a small sad smile on his lips.
The blond guided him to the staircases before freezing at a certain point, the look fixed on the ground. Harry put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. Sam shook his head.
"That was where I … found Chris's body."
"Would you like to talk about it? It may be easier to talk to me, I'm a complete stranger and you have nothing to fear, apart from the fact that I am a Tau Gamma Alpha," joked gently Harry. Thanks to Legilimency, the wizard wormed in Sam's thoughts, bringing forward the memories of that specific morning to the front to encourage the discussion.
"I can still see it in my head," No, that would be my fault, sorry … "He was laying there, turning his back to me, his boxer wet of piss. Insults were written on his body, not really degrading things you know, more like things we write down to humiliate the hazed, with a lipstick … and I laughed. I laughed, shit! When I touched him, he was … he was …"
"Don't worry, Sam. They will catch that bastard that did this," Harry comforted him, in a very manly manner so that his new friend didn't feel uncomfortable. Said person smiled faintly.
"Thanks dude. Come on, I have a free space in my room ever since …," he paused. "It doesn't bother you sleeping in Chris' bed?"
"No problem with me. Wait, what is that?" Asked the Auror while passing by a calendar filled with notes.
"The Party Calendar of course! You don't have that at Denver?" At Sam's frowning eyebrows, Harry felt that he made a mistake. He forced himself to laugh out loud before slapping the other's back.
"Dude, I didn't recognize it! One's thing for sure, some of our Tau Gamma Alpha brothers are already practicing a doctor's illegible necessary handwriting!" He was relieved when Sam laughed as well, describing here and there some of the previous parties and those that would be awesome in the weeks to come. That was close. Harry's attention was on the calendar, trying to follow his new friend. In vain. Suddenly, Harry swore.
"Merlin's balls! Why didn't I see this earlier?"
"Woah? What was that, James?"
"Er … A party at the Zeta Beta Zeta?" He said, indicating the first thing that was under his finger on the calendar. Sam winked at him.
"Yeah, dude. I don't know about Denver, but here, the Zeta Beta Zeta is a sorority whose members are only the most sexy babes! Hooray for next week!"
Harry pretended to nod his head with an air of enthusiasm and let himself guided by Sam to his room to put his stuff away. But he had only one idea stuck in his head now: to dig further his initial theory and then phone the team to share his discovery.
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
Police Station — 12th of January
At seven p.m, the profilers had regrouped to analyze the photos of the scene of the crime together and established a preliminary profile which would lead tomorrow to the profile that they would present to the local authorities and campus security. Morgan seemed to have some difficulties to concentrate, to preoccupied at observing Reid to see how he was.
"We find every time the same inscriptions in the same places, always in lipstick, our suspect is obsessed by a specific ritual," Noted Reid, totally ignorant of the visual surveillance of his friend.
"The motif of ecchymosis on the forearms, wrists and torso suggest that he restrained them with the help of ropes, our suspect must be restraining them while forcing them to drink alcohol with a funnel until they fell in an ethyl coma and suffocate on their own vomit. We found in their blood an important dose of drugs, surely to control them and to be able to attach them. Our suspect must be suffering from a physical handicap or has a fragile constitution. The drugs are, unfortunately, easily obtainable with a doctor's order in any drugstore." Completed Hotch.
"None of the students talked about a stranger or a weird man in the area of the murders, proving that the suspect is familiar with the area, so familiar that he can be unnoticed." Continued Prentiss.
"The university has organized rounds with the local police, but I fear that it won't be enough: our suspect may not be very intelligent, but he is methodical and organized. He won't be easily caught on his turf." Said Rossi while frowning.
"What does the geographical profile give us?" Demanded Hotch to Reid.
"No discernible patterns has appeared, our victims don't appear to be chosen by their fraternities. They must have a common pattern other than the fact that they were all presidents …"
Morgan's phone rang. Finally a distraction! He thought while answering. He needed to hear his Baby Girl's voice and to especially take the chance to ask forgiveness his previous behavior.
"Good evening, light of my nights, what do you have for me?" He said after putting it on speaker.
" … Well then, agent Morgan, proposition on the telephone now?" Answered an amused agent Black who was enjoying the fact that Morgan had just humiliated himself publicly. In the background Garcia was chuckling like there was no tomorrow.
"Mmh … My chocolate Apollo with the dark warriors of modern times … Make wave ladies!" He heard her clearly declare between two chuckles. She was joined by JJ and Prentiss whom seemed to agree, while he, like Black, were grumbling. At least, despite their mutual animosity, they seem to agree on one point.
"So Black, what do you have?" Enquired Hotch, ending the torture of the two male agents
"I've discovered as to how our suspects chooses his victims: on the party calendar of the fraternities, we can see that each night a body was discovered, there was a party at the Nu Kappa Chi!"
"The suspect is part of the fraternity?" asked out loud Rossi.
"I don't think so." Black told him. "Since a student here pointed out to me that the marks on the body of his friend reminded him of the hazing period that the students desiring entering a fraternity must pass."
"Most people consider hazing as a rite of passage." Reid informed them. He seemed more at ease with agent Black that he dared interrupt him. "However, many of them consider it like free barbary and humiliation, since, contrary to a true rite of passage, it isn't adults that do it to the young, but the young that are forcing the even younger."
"We can also add the fact that it doesn't pass the young to the state of adult, but only at a transitory state of a student, without a contribution of knowledge or teaching." Finished the voice on the phone.
Maybe agent Black and Reid were made to get along after all.
"And you went to see these famous Nu Kappa Chi, I presume? By the way, your hair slicked backwards suits you really well." Declared Prentiss with a natural ease. Morgan's eyes grew wide at the comment. How did she know that?
Black had a small laugh. "Well, well, Prentiss! You were the only one to recognize me today! Apparently, one of the tests of the hazing of our dear Nu is to put the hazed in their underway, write insults on their bodies and make them drink until they puke."
"See if the suspect used the same method to kill, if it it of a particular importance for him." Said Hotch. "Garcia, are there any articles concerning the Nu Kappa Chi on the subject?
"I'm checking … There is one article on the subject twenty years ago: a hazing that went south and led to a student loosing his scholarship."
"Nothing else?"
"No, apparently the student had to abandon his studies after the accident."
"Garcia, I want you to select in the list of every man over thirty-eight who had studied at Stanford's university and who stopped or changed course." Hotch demanded her.
"I have … two hundred and four names!"
"Filter your research on the people who had a sport scholarship, the Nu Kappa Chi have a reputation for their sport students and engineer students, but seeing that the student abandoned, we should concentrate on the sportsmen." Said Rossi.
"A hundred and thirteen names." Finished Garcia after a few clicks on her keyboard.
"And among them, try to see if there was a divorce or the death of a close one during the last five months." Indicating Morgan. He had finally regained composure, but in the back of his mind, he was trying to remember when Prentiss could have seen Black.
"That makes thirty-eight names, my dears!"
"Perfect, Garcia, I would like you to send us the list. Black, do you think you are capable to learn more about this accident, twenty years ago?"
"I will try to be … persuasive. But what worries me most is that the Nu Kappa Chi are organizing a party —" Black paused for time before continuing with a complete change of tone. He was suddenly more joyful, more carefree and Morgan realized just how young it made him, even with just his voice. "And yeah guys, a party at the Zeta Beta Seta, all costs payed by our brothers in Stanford, I'm betting that you are all green of envy in your poor little Colorado, eh? Oh, you're there, Sam? I'm coming right away! I'm just finishing revolting them by telling them about the deadly party tomorrow night at the Nu Kappa Chi! See you Tau Gamma Alpha, try to have fun without me, but if there is a problem, don't hesitate to call!" And he hung up.
"That was …" Started JJ, impressed in front of the acting talents of the young agent. Morgan pursed his lips. He may not appreciate him, but Black had given them very useful information.
"Agent Black has just communicated a small timeframe to us. If the killer is in a psychological breakdown, he will kill again tomorrow. If we don't apprehend him, he won't be able to use the parties as a way to find his victims and it will be even more difficult to catch him. We will communicate the profile early tomorrow and prepare for the night." Hotch informed them.
Garcia wished them a good night shortly after. Hotch declared that it was time to go eat and they found themselves in a local restaurant where everyone ordered what they wanted. The conversation was centered on the case until the moment where Morgan decided to spice things up a bit.
"So Hotch, from where do you know Black?"
Everybody, excluding Rossi who had a small scornful smile, looked interested, so well that Hotch was forced to answer.
"The Special Affaires were always a curious department, we know very little about them apart that they fight against a particular brand of terrorists, that there agents are recruited individually and that they follow extra lessons during their formation in the Academy. One of the terrorists was notably the reason of the troubles in England about ten years ago, but was neutralized by their service."
Black's reward in 98 must be linked, reasoned Morgan.
"But it happens that for the more sensitive affairs, we ask for their help to intervene. In 2000, we had been confronted by killer sniper in Seattle, who had been posted in a building and had filled it with enough explosive to destroy everything in a two hundred meter radius. He had threatened to explode everything if certain people haven't presented themselves on a platform in front of the building and that we don't warn the population. I was part of the hostages with Rossi, the chief of police and other figure of the city, at the mercy of the killer."
"Typical for a narcissistic personality, but extremely rare in snippers." Remarked Prentiss.
Hotch agreed with a nod before continuing: "Agent Black succeeded in evacuating discretely the square and kept us in the loop about the progress about his team in the building. The sniper had been neutralized by his team in a few minutes." Their unit chef had this vague satisfied expression before it changed into a frown when Rossi intervened to add something to the anecdote.
"And all of this while looking like a pregnant woman. What Hotch didn't say was that he practically dragged 'her' away from the platform while reprimanding 'her' for putting the life of 'her baby' in danger! In his defense, Black made a very convincing pregnant woman …" Everybody burst into laughter while the unit chef rolled his eyes at the old profiler. But Rossi wasn't finished with Hotch. 'After that, when they caught the sniper, he threw himself at him —well at the moment, it was a her— to protect 'them'! Black gushed at him, calling Hotch 'her hero' until the team of the Special Affairs came to join us to confirm the situation. I must admit that wasn't so surprised that the beautiful young pregnant woman identified 'herself' as agent Harry Black!"
That would explain the scene in the plane a little while again. Hotch looked slightly ashamed, but kept a dignified air even if the others were laughing at his expenses. Finally, Morgan thought he saw the ghost of a smile on the lips of his superior once the laughters had calmed down.
"It's true that it's better to mistake him as an intern and asked him for coffee … and his phone number." Rossi coughed in his napkin to hide his embarrassment, but gave and amused smile at Hotch that was saying 'I was seven years younger and a libido that liked to flirt with what I thought was a defenseless intern'. Morgan had a horrifying shiver at imagining Harry Black being flirted with the agent who had justified the rule against fraternization between agents of the FBI … However, he would have never believed that a catholic Italian like Rossi would try a homosexual relationship. You learn something new everyday. " … or to dress his profile after entering his office just in front of him." Derek and Prentiss grew restless, while JJ turned towards them to demand more details to the story.
When Hotch wants retribution, he could be dangerous…
"He came many times to the Bureau for interviews, and we have met during a hostage situation in Washington, three years ago. He was the leader of the intervention team. His work was exemplary." Finished Hotch, estimating that his colleagues deserved some additional information.
"Gideon was very interested in Black." Spoke calmly Reid. Morgan looked at him, surprised. Reid usually avoided talking about his mentor whom had abandoned them. That he only quoted him showed progress that he accepted his leaving.
"But I don't understand what an agent of the Special Affairs is doing here." Declared Morgan, crossing his arms. He was suspicious. Harry Black was more than he appeared to be, the Metis had this inexplicable urge to discover the story behind the scars, the reason for the shadows that were in his eyes. But especially, he felt this urge to growl at the young man and to force him to stifle that arrogant smile from his face.
And if it was by fists … Well the better.
"Strauss hasn't given us any explanation, but Black has expressed the desire to learn our techniques in profiling a moment ago. He is rather gifted in gathering information and interrogations, that it was I heard. He wants to improve in that domaine."
Hotch's explanation didn't totally satisfy Morgan, but he will be content. For now.
They talked a bit more (Morgan asked Prentiss when had they crossed path with Black and was surprised to learn that he was a student they met during their visit to the second fraternity), then finished their dinner and separated to go to sleep. Just before entering his room, Morgan was called over by Hotch.
"Morgan, it has come to my attention that you have a certain animosity towards Black."
I don't like him, he's hiding something concerning Reid and my instincts are warning me to be on garde about him. "Not everyone appreciates everybody, Hotch." In normal circumstances, Morgan would have restrained himself from talking that way to his superior, but Black seem to bring out the worse in him.
Hotch kept a stoic face, but his jaws clenched noticeably. "I had the same reaction as you did when I met these agents for the first time, Morgan, but I am now used to the idea that we can't know everything. Don't condemn someone because they won't or can't share their secrets. Don't condemn your carrier."
"Good night Hotch."
-CM-HP-CM-HP-
The Tau Gamma Alpha's dormitory, Chris' and Sam's room — 13th of January, very early in the morning.
"And did you take your pills? Black, tell me that you taken your pills or I will scorch you alive and will leave you to Steve!"
Draco's voice was even more disagreeable on the phone, but his authority was even more reinforced. The pills in question were potions altered to a more Muggle form that Harry was taking for years. During his months of torture, certain of his nerves had been damaged. He had recovered to full health, but his body would make him suffer from time to time. The pills prevented that pain. It was Draco who had invented the technique to hide the potions in these sort of harmless, in the eyes of Muggles, gelcaps. The idea was genius, but the Auror would never tell his friend. Draco's ego wouldn't survive and he would only hear him talk about that. Harry sighed deeply, taking his time to answer the blond on the other end of the line only to annoy him.
"Yes mama Draco, I took my pills like every night! You don't need to threaten me for that, especially with Steve." Mumbled the Auror. The perspective to spend time with Steve was more horrible than the idea to be skinned alive. Steve Tradi was one of the Aurors that had contested Harry's promotion and was a complete jackass. When he wasn't mocking the competency of the young wizard, it was to flirt outrageously with him. The worse was that he was a good Auror, even if he had a horrible personality, at least for Harry.
"And your new colleagues? Are they interesting?"
"The great Draco Black deems himself worthy to preoccupy himself about Muggles, how shocking!" Draco sniffed in a condensing air. Even on the telephone, Harry could figure out the face he was making. "I had already worked with two of them, so I'm doing ok."
And there is this guy that I can't stand and that I will certainly break a limb if he doesn't stop antagonizing me.
That wouldn't be very diplomatic of him, but by Merlin, that would relieve him greatly! "I am still asking myself why we have been assigned to these services." He thought out loud.
"Apparently, the Ministry fear that the criminals escaped from Azkaban could be implicated in the Muggle world. Imagine the headlines: 'Inexplicable murders! The BAU believe the use of magic! Does a Wizarding World exist?' "
"At least I'm not the only one in this situation. Have you news about the others?"
"Because I telephone you, Black, doesn't mean that I worry about the fate of the others." His dear blond friend told in a nauseated voice.
"Aww, am I a special case then? I'm touched Draco!"
"If that helps you sleep, Black!" He said with the same quality of voice as 'Shut up!' "Parker believes that it would only take a couple of months, the time it takes to round up the most dangerous Dark Wizards. Until then … Where are you sleeping?"
"With a student on the campus where our case if."
"A student, Black? You like them inexperienced? Oh, I forgot! To know that, you would actually need a sexual life!"
Black growled. It was a subject in which Draco didn't stop tormenting him about it. With the appearance of his special capacities, Harry was incapable in having a serious relationship. Sex implicated a total abandon, which his empathy-by-contact didn't allow unless for some very rare occasions, generally in brief and hardly gratifying one night stands. He had tried to build a more platonic relation before allowing himself to lower his Occlumency shields, but his partner proved himself unfaithful, which Harry had discovered this with an instinctive Legilimency. Since then, his best friend was his right hand. That was about a year ago now.
"The only thing that keeps me in this world is the hope that, one day, one of the women with whom you fuck with will stab you in your sleep …"
"As for me, that you finally do the man of your dreams."
"What an excellent idea! Hmm Draco, what don't you apparate here so that we can have a bit of fun together? I don't need to worry, I know exactly what your feelings are towards me, it will be only sex, I promise!" His joke was hiding the horror that he felt at Draco's idea. Difficult to imagine the man of your dreams when your nights were filled with nightmare of the war ten years ago.
"Touché, Black." Draco grimaced, apparently feeling a spike of guilt by understanding Harry's train of thoughts. But he didn't try to make him acknowledge it. That was the reason that they were so close. They had learned to know each other in the worst of circumstances, they were linked by something that few could know unless they had lived through the terror of the war and the horror of torture.
"Thanks". Harry voiced without specifying as to what he was thanking him. Draco understood. "Good night Draco."
"Good night Black, and don't forget to —"
"— take my pills!"
AN: I'm finished! After such a long time, I thank you for your patience. Updates will be taking time, but less than the three or more months of waiting than this one.
Hope that you liked it and don't forget to leave a review for Markhal, the most brilliant writer and original creator of this story!