As soon as they got back to the Auror office, a very excited Colin
Creevey ran up to them and began talking very fast. Ron held up a hand and
he stopped, breathing hard.
"Slow down, Colin," Ron begged. "Colin is the Auror-in-Training we have checking Hart's history," he explained to Gibbs. "What've you found?"
"Richard Hart? The dead body? He was a You-Know-Who supporter. Not a Death Eater, he wasn't that high up. But he was high enough to know things. A lot of things. Anyway, he was charged with Muggle-baiting, Muggle torture, and use of near-Unforgivables. He was set to be tried about two years ago but it never happened. After that, he disappeared. No one ever heard from him again," Colin finished ominously. Ron thanked him and sent him on his way.
Hermione gave Ron a significant look. He glanced furtively at Gibbs, wondering if the Muggle really could help and, if he could, if his help was worth the price. Finally he nodded at Hermione, agreeing to let Gibbs in on their discussion. They ducked into Ron's cubicle, which was covered in brightly colored posters of moving Quidditch players. To his credit, Gibbs did not run screaming from the place when one player smiled and waved at him. Ron supposed the earlier experience with the rude mug shot had prepared him.
"So, what d'you reckon?" Ron opened.
"W.I.Z.A.R.D.," Hermione answered confidently. Seeing Gibbs' uncomprehending look, she explained. "Wizard Integration and Zilching Arranged for Reasonable Defense. It's, um, it's like..." she struggled for the Muggle equivalent.
"Witness Protection," Gibbs offered, catching on. "Witnesses or cooperatives in cases against dangerous and well-connected criminals are given new identities and relocated. Their previous identities are erased or, I suppose, 'zilched'."
"That's exactly it," Hermione confirmed, beaming at Gibbs. "Hart must have traded information for his freedom. They relocated him to America and gave him a new name and job. Your LCDR Patterson."
"So who killed him? And why?" Gibbs asked bluntly.
There was a silence before Ron voiced what all of them were thinking. "Dunno."
********
Gibbs was frustrated. He hated not being able to solve a case, and this one was no different. Well, okay, it was very different, but it was still a case. He suddenly had a thought.
"Do you have a phone?" he asked, feeling foolish for asking in this odd world.
"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, wizards don't use – " Hermione started before Weasley interrupted.
"My dad probably has one lying around. I'll be right back." Weasley disappeared. Literally. It took Gibbs a moment to realize he had gone and a moment more to digest the fact. Gibbs was finding it easier to accept his surroundings the longer he was here.
Five minutes later, Weasley reappeared, triumphantly grasping a telephone. The cord dangled uselessly from the end and Gibbs realized that, even with a phone, there probably wasn't a phone jack in this place. For some reason, he tried it anyway and to his surprise (well, not really, for nothing could surprise him anymore), it started ringing.
"DiNozzo," came the voice, remarkably clear.
"Tony, it's me."
"Gibbs! Where are you? You just...disappeared!" Tony sounded worried.
"I'm fine," Gibbs dodged the question. "Do you have the history on LCDR Patterson?"
"Yeah, sort of," Tony answered.
"What do you mean, 'sort of'? Either you do or you don't, DiNozzo," Gibbs demanded angrily.
"I do, boss, it's just...There's not much there. It stops about two years back. I've looked and there isn't anything on Lieutenant Commander Tyler Patterson before spring of two years ago."
"Yeah, that's about right. What do you have?"
Tony didn't speak for a moment, startled. He had been sure Gibbs would chew his butt off for not getting more. "Uh...um...He came to Norfolk two years ago with references and an assignment to the commissary. Kept to himself, mostly, didn't get in any trouble. Not even a traffic ticket. We have his phone records; nothing unusual except one number. He called it every month, like clockwork. We traced it: it's a payphone in London. That's all we have."
"Okay. Good work, DiNozzo." Gibbs hung up after getting the number from Tony. He thought for a few moments, then asked, "Do you have Hart's wife's address?"
Hermione and Weasley looked surprised. "How d'you know he was married?" Weasley asked.
"Just a hunch," Gibbs shrugged. "He kept calling a payphone in London. My guess is he wanted to keep in contact with his wife even with the, uh..."
"W.I.Z.A.R.D.," Hermione provided.
"Yeah, that. So, can you get he address?"
Weasley and Hermione grinned. "We can do better than that, mate," Weasley said. Gibbs didn't quite trust their looks as Hermione grabbed a familiar container of glittering green powder.
"Oh, no..."
********
Ron brushed himself off and smiled at Gibbs, who was looking rather sick again. "The best thing about Floo," Ron explained. "Is that you don't need an exact address. Well, usually. I just hope this is the right Mrs. Richard Hart."
Gibbs looked as if he didn't believe there was anything good about Floo. Hermione had her wand out and was starting to explore the house. Gibbs reached for his side but came up empty. Ron suspected he was looking for his gun.
"Looking for your sideleg?" Ron asked, trying to sound cool and knowledgeable. Hermione snorted and Gibbs smiled slightly.
"Sidearm," he corrected. "And yes. I forgot I left it in my desk."
"Ah. I've never understood Muggle weapons," Ron said thoughtfully. "A wand is so much more effective. And multipurpose," he added, opening a door just to demonstrated. Hermione screamed. Inside the door was a woman. She lay crumpled on the floor, as if her bones had been removed and she had just folded where she stood. She was, quite clearly, dead.
Ron's face turned a nasty shade of green and he ran for the bathroom. They could hear him retching down the hall. Hermione did a bit better; she only covered her eyes and turned away. Gibbs was the only one who entered the room.
"Where's Ducky when you need him?" he muttered, examining the scene. "Hey," he called to Hermione. "Can you, ah, make stuff...with that thing?" He gestured to her wand.
"Yes," she said curiously. "What do you need?"
"A liver thermometer," he said grimly.
"Oh," she said, grimacing. "I'll try."
She waved her wand and muttered something, and a liver thermometer appeared in the air. She handed to Gibbs, who looked rather astonished.
"I've never done this before," he warned. He approximated the location of the liver and, wincing, inserted the thermometer. After a reading and a quick calculation, he determined that the woman, presumably Mrs. Hart, had been dead between 24 and 48 hours. Hermione confirmed her identity with a swift Identity Charm.
Gibbs was beginning to put the pieces together. After Ron returned from the restroom, he told them his theory.
"The murderer comes after Mrs. Hart. She knows where her husband is because of their routine phone calls. The perp gets it out of her and kills her. Then he goes after Patterson, or Hart, kills him and leaves nothing behind."
"Maybe not nothing," Ron mused, realizing something. "The woman who found Hart's body said her son came running to the house, screaming. He was about to tell her something when his face went blank and a car backfired. Her son had forgotten whatever it was he was going to tell her."
Hermione gasped. "Memory Modification and Disapparating! You think the boy saw..."
"His face? Yeah. How do we get his memory back, though?"
Hermione though for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Ron," she whispered. "Do you remember the Department of Mysteries?"
"How could I forget?" He shuddered. "That brain hurt like – " He stopped abruptly. "You don't think..."
Hermione nodded significantly. Gibbs looked from one to the other, completely lost but not wanting to disrupt their creative thinking process. Finally they looked at him apologetically.
"We have to go back to the ministry," Hermione said sadly.
Gibbs shook his head wildly. "No, please, no!" he pleaded.
They had pity in their eyes as they carried him, screaming hysterically, to the fire and chucked him in.
"Slow down, Colin," Ron begged. "Colin is the Auror-in-Training we have checking Hart's history," he explained to Gibbs. "What've you found?"
"Richard Hart? The dead body? He was a You-Know-Who supporter. Not a Death Eater, he wasn't that high up. But he was high enough to know things. A lot of things. Anyway, he was charged with Muggle-baiting, Muggle torture, and use of near-Unforgivables. He was set to be tried about two years ago but it never happened. After that, he disappeared. No one ever heard from him again," Colin finished ominously. Ron thanked him and sent him on his way.
Hermione gave Ron a significant look. He glanced furtively at Gibbs, wondering if the Muggle really could help and, if he could, if his help was worth the price. Finally he nodded at Hermione, agreeing to let Gibbs in on their discussion. They ducked into Ron's cubicle, which was covered in brightly colored posters of moving Quidditch players. To his credit, Gibbs did not run screaming from the place when one player smiled and waved at him. Ron supposed the earlier experience with the rude mug shot had prepared him.
"So, what d'you reckon?" Ron opened.
"W.I.Z.A.R.D.," Hermione answered confidently. Seeing Gibbs' uncomprehending look, she explained. "Wizard Integration and Zilching Arranged for Reasonable Defense. It's, um, it's like..." she struggled for the Muggle equivalent.
"Witness Protection," Gibbs offered, catching on. "Witnesses or cooperatives in cases against dangerous and well-connected criminals are given new identities and relocated. Their previous identities are erased or, I suppose, 'zilched'."
"That's exactly it," Hermione confirmed, beaming at Gibbs. "Hart must have traded information for his freedom. They relocated him to America and gave him a new name and job. Your LCDR Patterson."
"So who killed him? And why?" Gibbs asked bluntly.
There was a silence before Ron voiced what all of them were thinking. "Dunno."
********
Gibbs was frustrated. He hated not being able to solve a case, and this one was no different. Well, okay, it was very different, but it was still a case. He suddenly had a thought.
"Do you have a phone?" he asked, feeling foolish for asking in this odd world.
"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, wizards don't use – " Hermione started before Weasley interrupted.
"My dad probably has one lying around. I'll be right back." Weasley disappeared. Literally. It took Gibbs a moment to realize he had gone and a moment more to digest the fact. Gibbs was finding it easier to accept his surroundings the longer he was here.
Five minutes later, Weasley reappeared, triumphantly grasping a telephone. The cord dangled uselessly from the end and Gibbs realized that, even with a phone, there probably wasn't a phone jack in this place. For some reason, he tried it anyway and to his surprise (well, not really, for nothing could surprise him anymore), it started ringing.
"DiNozzo," came the voice, remarkably clear.
"Tony, it's me."
"Gibbs! Where are you? You just...disappeared!" Tony sounded worried.
"I'm fine," Gibbs dodged the question. "Do you have the history on LCDR Patterson?"
"Yeah, sort of," Tony answered.
"What do you mean, 'sort of'? Either you do or you don't, DiNozzo," Gibbs demanded angrily.
"I do, boss, it's just...There's not much there. It stops about two years back. I've looked and there isn't anything on Lieutenant Commander Tyler Patterson before spring of two years ago."
"Yeah, that's about right. What do you have?"
Tony didn't speak for a moment, startled. He had been sure Gibbs would chew his butt off for not getting more. "Uh...um...He came to Norfolk two years ago with references and an assignment to the commissary. Kept to himself, mostly, didn't get in any trouble. Not even a traffic ticket. We have his phone records; nothing unusual except one number. He called it every month, like clockwork. We traced it: it's a payphone in London. That's all we have."
"Okay. Good work, DiNozzo." Gibbs hung up after getting the number from Tony. He thought for a few moments, then asked, "Do you have Hart's wife's address?"
Hermione and Weasley looked surprised. "How d'you know he was married?" Weasley asked.
"Just a hunch," Gibbs shrugged. "He kept calling a payphone in London. My guess is he wanted to keep in contact with his wife even with the, uh..."
"W.I.Z.A.R.D.," Hermione provided.
"Yeah, that. So, can you get he address?"
Weasley and Hermione grinned. "We can do better than that, mate," Weasley said. Gibbs didn't quite trust their looks as Hermione grabbed a familiar container of glittering green powder.
"Oh, no..."
********
Ron brushed himself off and smiled at Gibbs, who was looking rather sick again. "The best thing about Floo," Ron explained. "Is that you don't need an exact address. Well, usually. I just hope this is the right Mrs. Richard Hart."
Gibbs looked as if he didn't believe there was anything good about Floo. Hermione had her wand out and was starting to explore the house. Gibbs reached for his side but came up empty. Ron suspected he was looking for his gun.
"Looking for your sideleg?" Ron asked, trying to sound cool and knowledgeable. Hermione snorted and Gibbs smiled slightly.
"Sidearm," he corrected. "And yes. I forgot I left it in my desk."
"Ah. I've never understood Muggle weapons," Ron said thoughtfully. "A wand is so much more effective. And multipurpose," he added, opening a door just to demonstrated. Hermione screamed. Inside the door was a woman. She lay crumpled on the floor, as if her bones had been removed and she had just folded where she stood. She was, quite clearly, dead.
Ron's face turned a nasty shade of green and he ran for the bathroom. They could hear him retching down the hall. Hermione did a bit better; she only covered her eyes and turned away. Gibbs was the only one who entered the room.
"Where's Ducky when you need him?" he muttered, examining the scene. "Hey," he called to Hermione. "Can you, ah, make stuff...with that thing?" He gestured to her wand.
"Yes," she said curiously. "What do you need?"
"A liver thermometer," he said grimly.
"Oh," she said, grimacing. "I'll try."
She waved her wand and muttered something, and a liver thermometer appeared in the air. She handed to Gibbs, who looked rather astonished.
"I've never done this before," he warned. He approximated the location of the liver and, wincing, inserted the thermometer. After a reading and a quick calculation, he determined that the woman, presumably Mrs. Hart, had been dead between 24 and 48 hours. Hermione confirmed her identity with a swift Identity Charm.
Gibbs was beginning to put the pieces together. After Ron returned from the restroom, he told them his theory.
"The murderer comes after Mrs. Hart. She knows where her husband is because of their routine phone calls. The perp gets it out of her and kills her. Then he goes after Patterson, or Hart, kills him and leaves nothing behind."
"Maybe not nothing," Ron mused, realizing something. "The woman who found Hart's body said her son came running to the house, screaming. He was about to tell her something when his face went blank and a car backfired. Her son had forgotten whatever it was he was going to tell her."
Hermione gasped. "Memory Modification and Disapparating! You think the boy saw..."
"His face? Yeah. How do we get his memory back, though?"
Hermione though for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Ron," she whispered. "Do you remember the Department of Mysteries?"
"How could I forget?" He shuddered. "That brain hurt like – " He stopped abruptly. "You don't think..."
Hermione nodded significantly. Gibbs looked from one to the other, completely lost but not wanting to disrupt their creative thinking process. Finally they looked at him apologetically.
"We have to go back to the ministry," Hermione said sadly.
Gibbs shook his head wildly. "No, please, no!" he pleaded.
They had pity in their eyes as they carried him, screaming hysterically, to the fire and chucked him in.