DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything - possibly excepting the cake I baked last night.


CHAPTER 9: BAU'S POV

"Garcia?" Prentiss whispered, staring in shock at the scene before her. The room was sparsely furnished and the single desk was cluttered with technical equipment. A wooden chair, the companion to the desk, was overturned on the floor. Garcia's toys that normally covered her desk at the BAU were littered about the room in careless abandon.

Garcia herself was nowhere in sight.

Prentiss could feel the tears still, the ones that had come from the shocking, immediate though that had hit her the moment she walked in.

Garcia had been kidnapped. Or worse, killed.

"Emily?" A voice from the door-way. "Emily, what's wrong?"

Hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her off the floor. Prentiss collapsed into the person's arms, waiting for the reassurance she craved. She felt hands making soothing strokes on her back, combined with the soft jingle of bracelets.

…Bracelets?

Prentiss pulled back quickly, and through the cloud of tears she saw a familiar face.

"Garcia! Don't you ever do that to me again! Where the hell were you?!"

She hugged her friends tight, disbelieving the evidence that Garcia was alive before her. The terrible doubt that had filled her since she entered the room began to drain away.

"Emily, sweetie, why are you crying? I went to get some coffee, which you are crushing by the way."

Prentiss felt herself being pulled back from Garcia, and she turned to see Hotch and Ron standing behind her. Hotch was telling Garcia about the mysterious phone call that they had thought was from her, and Ron was walking towards her.

"Miss Prentiss?"

That made Prentiss smile weakly and she corrected him softly.

"Just Prentiss. What's wrong Ron?"

He shook his head, looking around at the room. Prentiss swore it was a trick of the light, but for a second he looked years older and wiser, almost scary.

"If it wasn't this lady,' he said, gesturing to Garcia, who was digging through the clutter on her desk for the phone she had been given on arrival. 'Then who was it?"

What a good question, Prentiss thought, looking in surprise at the redhead before her.

"I can't find it!" Garcia yelled, looking frustrated and a little terrified. "It's not here!"

Hotch's face became set. He looked intensely serious, more so than usual.

"That means that our unsub was inside this room."

HP'S POV:

From inside the room, Hermione could hear the yell from down the corridor.

"I can't find it! It's not here!"

She looked at Harry in shock. If Garcia couldn't find the phone, which had to mean it had been stolen. And only one person had the motive to steal it.

The Bellatrix look-a-like and her partner in crime. Hermione realized it was time for her to find out what this murderous woman's name was.

Hermione had never visited another branch of the Ministry of Magic. Logically, she knew that it would look nothing like the Ministry of Magic in England, but she was still surprised when she walked into the foyer.

The area was dominated by a large set of stairs, made of cool stone. Everywhere she looked were groups of busy looking witches and wizards, their robes making Hermione slightly homesick for the wizarding world. The swish of robes across the floor and the clamour of voices made a glorious cacophony. She looked around her and located the information desk. As she walked over to it, Hermione saw she was attracting looks when people recognized her. Hermione had purposefully made Harry and Ron stay behind at the hotel. Not only did it decrease the suspiciousness of her trip, but it meant she attracted less attention.

She still attracted a large amount of attention.

The British wizarding media had dubbed she, Harry and Ron the 'Golden Trio' soon after their victory against Voldemort.

She despised the name.

Hermione hated reminders of what had transpired during those horrific months. She was the supposed 'brains' of the Golden Trio. She had hoped, vainly it seemed, that here in Australia no one would recognize her.

But even half a world away, she was the girl that helped put an end to the terror of the Wizarding World.

By the time she arrived at the information desk, the previous cacophony had faded to absolute silence. Hermione could feel every eye on the room on her, and she cleared her throat before asking;

"I was wondering if you could give me some information on a witch?"

The information witch stared at her blankly for a moment, before saying in shock;

"You're Hermione Granger."

The awe in her voice was evident and Hermione grimaced. She opened her mouth to reply and felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and found herself facing a familiar face.

"Malfoy?!"

She registered the familiar smirk and the shining hair.

"Granger.' He replied, and then smiled a little. 'Are we still on a last name basis?"

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth lift in a small smile. Malfoy smiled a little in return, then replied;

"You're looking for information on a witch? Looks like you're in luck Granger, because I happen to have access to every Ministry of Magic record."

She frowned at that, since it was completely impossible, unless…

"Are you serious?"

"Completely. I'm the youngest Australian Minister of Magic ever."

Not surprisingly, Malfoy's office was decorated almost completely in green and silver. Hermione noted in amusement that his wooden furniture was white, stained silver. He gestured to a comfortable looking chair near a bookcase in the corner of the room. Hermione pulled out her wand, glad to finally feel it again in her hand. She charmed the chair so the colours shifted from silver and green to red and gold.

Malfoy noted the chair in amusement.

"Some things never change, do they?"

She shook her head a little sadly.

"What kind of records were you looking for?"

This was where things got a little awkward. Hermione knew that if the woman looked so much like Bellatrix, then she had to be related to Malfoy somehow. Malfoy raised an eyebrow when she didn't reply.

"Whatever it is Granger, we've lived through a war together. Maybe we weren't on the same side, but I think it means the conventional conversational barriers are slightly defunct."

Hermione nodded – Malfoy was right. In a rush, she filled him in on all the events of the past few days.

When she finally stopped talking, Malfoy thought for a little while. When he had a come to a conclusion, he looked up and stared her straight in the eyes.

"You don't need records Granger. I know exactly who the witch you described is."

Then he paused for too long and Hermione prompted him.

"Malfoy? Who is she?"

She couldn't tell anything from his expression.

"She's my Aunt Bellatrix's cousin – her name is Alexis Bundy."


A/N Hello - new chapter for you all :) It's my last day of school (exams next week!) so I'm feeling generous - hence why I didn't leave the last cliffhanger chapter unfollowed. I'm currently writing chapter 12, so if the updates stop next Monday, it's because of my exams. Reviews are amazing and this chapter is dedicated to Alexis - Thank you! xx