A/N: Shannon – I agree, Gibbs is not one to scream and carry on.
However, I believe Gibbs is so out of his element here that his usual
reactions don't apply.
They stood in a dark, circular room lit only by bluish torches burning in brackets against the walls. Several doors led off from the room; they were all identical. Hermione approached one, pushed it open, and shook her head. Closing it and marking it with a large, red X, she waited for the room to stop spinning before trying the next door. This time, she gave a shout of triumph.
"This is it," she hissed excitedly. "The Brain Room."
Ron shuddered and looked at the door apprehensively. Then, swallowing hard, he started forward. Gibbs followed, unsure of what he might find. He stepped into a dimly lit room and immediately saw a large tank in the center of the room. It was hard to miss; it took up half the room. Strange things floated around in the pale liquid, trailing something behind them. Gibbs started when he realized they were brains, wondering what was coming out of the ends. It looked almost like...film.
Hermione bit her lip in thought. "I don't know exactly how this works," she apologized. "But I might have an idea..."
"Be careful," Ron warned.
"Memorius Revelus!" Hermione shouted, waving her wand toward the tank. The brains began to whirl around the tank, faster and faster, until they were just a blur. Hermione looked delighted that her idea had worked. "Robby Paulson!" She spoke the boy's name while making a strange, complicated movement with her wand. One brain approached the top of the tank. The side of the tank became something of a video screen, showing a short scene from the memory of the boy who had seen Richard Hart killed. The three of them watched the scene with interest.
It started with a picture of trees and bushes, and Gibbs recognized the grove where LCDR Patterson's body had been found. A man's voice spoke loudly from behind a large bush. The scene moved closer. Now they could see around the bush, where two men stood. One, dressed in a Navy uniform, was clearly Richard Hart. The other was hidden in shadow. The shadowy figure stepped forward suddenly and waved his wand. A bright green flash illuminated his face for an instant as Richard Hart crumpled to the ground. The man pulled out a silvery cloth and flung it over himself. He disappeared, and the 'screen' went blank.
"Well, we have his face now," Ron said, slightly encouraged.
"Yeah," Gibbs replied. "But nothing else."
********
"D'you think the murderer knew he was in W.I.Z.A.R.D.?" Ron asked.
"Possibly," Gibbs mused. "Obviously they knew he wasn't dead or in prison."
"I've been thinking," Hermione spoke up. "Maybe it was one of the people he put in Azkaban. They would certainly have cause. And who else would use two, or three, Unforgivables to accomplish their goal?"
"You have a good point," Gibbs agreed. "But what are Unforgivables?"
"Oh!" Hermione said, surprised that they hadn't already told him. "Unforgivables are the three curses that will land you an automatic life sentence in Azkaban. The Imperius Curse: mind control, the Cruciatus Curse: torture, and Avada Kedavra: the Killing Curse. Most people don't think it's worth the risk, but a Death Eater who'd already been to Azkaban wouldn't have much to lose."
"Ah. So how do we find out who Hart put in prison?" Gibbs asked, sure by now that they had some unconventional (to him) way to find the information.
"Well," answered Hermione. "We could ask someone who was there."
"That's it?" Gibbs asked in surprise. "No spell to search the records? No time-travel back to the trials? Just ask someone?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "Unfortunately, the records are sealed and we'd need special permission to get a time-turner. But on the upside, we happen to know someone who was there and," she added. "You can't get there by Floo."
Gibbs looked truly happy at this bit of information. He was slightly less happy when he found that their actual form of transportation was a flimsy looking broom. However, to his immense surprise, he found that he was a something of a natural when it came to flying. Ron showed him the basics but after about five minutes, he had the hang of it and was doing quite well by himself. He was, in fact, doing rather better than Hermione, who had never quite figured out flying.
They set off, heading, as best Gibbs could figure, mostly north. They flew above the clouds to avoid, according to Hermione, being seen by Muggles. It was cold, but the sun shone and flying proved to be quite enjoyable. Gibbs was relishing the feel of the wind in his face; it reminded him of jumping from airplanes. After a few hours of pleasant soaring, Hermione shouted up to Ron.
"It's coming up. We should start down," she yelled.
Ron gave a hand signal indicating that he had heard and started into an easy dive. They got a good drenching as they descended through the cloud layer, before emerging above a beautiful countryside. Mountains ringed a green valley, where Gibbs saw a large lake in the middle of rolling foothills. Near the lake was a large, medieval-looking castle. Lights twinkled merrily in the windows and Gibbs could not help but feel secure. The place exuded a sense of comfort and hominess. As they came in for a gentle landing just outside the gates, Ron grinned widely.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Agent Gibbs."
********
They warmed themselves by Professor Dumbledore's fire as he bustled around the office preparing...something. He bent low by a cupboard, tugging something out of the doors. He straightened, and in his hands was a large stone basin carved with various symbols. A silvery light glistened from the top, illuminating Professor Dumbledore's face in eerie relief.
"Tea?" he offered, as he set the stone basin on his desk.
"No, thank you," Gibbs replied, trying hard not to make a face.
"Yes, please," Ron accepted.
"Is that a...Pensieve?" Hermione asked in awe, as if she had not heard the question.
"Indeed, Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered as he waved his wand, conjuring a cup of tea for Ron. "My memory is not what it used to be, and I find that the Pensieve is very useful when trying to remember past events. Now, you wanted to know about the Death Eater trials two years ago?"
"Yes, sir," Gibbs answered, unconsciously taking the lead of the team. He recognized the respect that Professor Dumbledore deserved, or else never would have called him 'sir'. "Specifically, which Death Eaters were convicted on Richard Hart's information."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore remembered as he prodded the Pensieve with his wand. "Richard Hart. A curious case, that. The first W.I.Z.A.R.D. case we have had in a very long time. He put five top Death Eaters in Azkaban, maybe more. Which ones, you ask? Let's see..."
He continued poking the stuff in the basin, which swirled and changed colors. Eventually a figure emerged from the top, a pale but good-looking man sitting chained in a chair. He was speaking in a confident, almost bored, tone.
"Lucius Malfoy, of course," he said in a smooth, unfriendly voice. "He was You-Know-Who's right-hand man. Patrick Hayes was his chief Imperiator, in charge of mind control. Gretchen Leddy was one of his top spies, used her 'feminine wiles' to gather information. Timothy Rory was responsible for the Cruciatus Curse, training and regulation. Floyd Sweeney was director of Operations, put the Dark Lord's plans into action. Vivian Westin was manager of Personnel; she directed recruitment and punishment."
The man stopped speaking and sank back into the Pensieve. Dumbledore gazed up at the three as if asking if that was what they had wanted. Gibbs nodded in thanks as Hermione finished scribbling the names onto a scrap of parchment. The three stood and shook Dumbledore's hand, starting for the door while voicing their appreciation. Dumbledore stopped them at the door.
"How were you planning on getting back to London?" he asked conversationally.
"We brought brooms," Ron explained.
"Might I offer the services of our thestral herd? Night is fast approaching and thestral travel is much faster than broomsticks."
Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy looks. They clearly did not like the idea but did not want to offend Professor Dumbledore by refusing his offer. Gibbs took charge again.
"We would appreciate that, Professor," he answered politely. He hoped thestrals were nothing like Floo.
Dumbledore summoned a very large man by the name of Hagrid to his office and asked him to please fetch three thestrals from the forest. Hagrid started off, his humongous steps thundering down the staircase. Twenty minutes later, they again felt his approach and he burst through the door.
"They're waitin' fer yeh, Headmaster," Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid," Dumbledore nodded, before leading them downstairs.
Gibbs wasn't sure what to think of the thestrals. On first glance, they looked something like horses, but they most definitely were not. Long snouts protruded downward from blank eyes and their skeletal appearance gave them an eerie, haunted feel. Their wings were bat-like, and Gibbs supposed that overall they reminded him mostly of dragons.
Ron and Hermione were looking around, as if they could not see the thestrals. Ron was muttering something about, "unnatural beasts" and Hermione wore a nervous expression.
"I take it, Agent Gibbs, that you have seen death?" a soft voice asked behind him.
Gibbs turned quickly to see Professor Dumbledore gazing thoughtfully at him. "Um, yes. I work in Law Enforcement. And I was a Marine before that." Gibbs was not sure why exactly he told Dumbledore this, but the man inspired a deep trust, even in the cynical Gibbs.
"You will have to help Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, then," Dumbledore said without explanation. "As they have not yet, thankfully, been exposed to that awful experience." With that, he swept his robes around him and returned to his office.
"Thestrals can only be seen by those who have seen death," Hermione explained.
"Oh," Gibbs replied, unsure of what else to say. He helped Ron and Hermione mount their steeds, then approached his own. He supposed it couldn't be too different from getting on a horse. He settled awkwardly behind the wings and turned to Ron and Hermione. They were both wearing looks of extreme discomfort and Gibbs imagined it must be very strange to sit on a horse you couldn't see.
"Er," Ron said. "I guess...Ministry of Magic, please." He spoke toward the head of his thestral. Suddenly, all three rose quickly into the air. The thestrals were not the most comfortable ride, but Gibbs found it quite similar to a military transport. His only worry was that he might doze off and fall from his mount.
"This is better than Floo by a long shot," he muttered to himself.
They stood in a dark, circular room lit only by bluish torches burning in brackets against the walls. Several doors led off from the room; they were all identical. Hermione approached one, pushed it open, and shook her head. Closing it and marking it with a large, red X, she waited for the room to stop spinning before trying the next door. This time, she gave a shout of triumph.
"This is it," she hissed excitedly. "The Brain Room."
Ron shuddered and looked at the door apprehensively. Then, swallowing hard, he started forward. Gibbs followed, unsure of what he might find. He stepped into a dimly lit room and immediately saw a large tank in the center of the room. It was hard to miss; it took up half the room. Strange things floated around in the pale liquid, trailing something behind them. Gibbs started when he realized they were brains, wondering what was coming out of the ends. It looked almost like...film.
Hermione bit her lip in thought. "I don't know exactly how this works," she apologized. "But I might have an idea..."
"Be careful," Ron warned.
"Memorius Revelus!" Hermione shouted, waving her wand toward the tank. The brains began to whirl around the tank, faster and faster, until they were just a blur. Hermione looked delighted that her idea had worked. "Robby Paulson!" She spoke the boy's name while making a strange, complicated movement with her wand. One brain approached the top of the tank. The side of the tank became something of a video screen, showing a short scene from the memory of the boy who had seen Richard Hart killed. The three of them watched the scene with interest.
It started with a picture of trees and bushes, and Gibbs recognized the grove where LCDR Patterson's body had been found. A man's voice spoke loudly from behind a large bush. The scene moved closer. Now they could see around the bush, where two men stood. One, dressed in a Navy uniform, was clearly Richard Hart. The other was hidden in shadow. The shadowy figure stepped forward suddenly and waved his wand. A bright green flash illuminated his face for an instant as Richard Hart crumpled to the ground. The man pulled out a silvery cloth and flung it over himself. He disappeared, and the 'screen' went blank.
"Well, we have his face now," Ron said, slightly encouraged.
"Yeah," Gibbs replied. "But nothing else."
********
"D'you think the murderer knew he was in W.I.Z.A.R.D.?" Ron asked.
"Possibly," Gibbs mused. "Obviously they knew he wasn't dead or in prison."
"I've been thinking," Hermione spoke up. "Maybe it was one of the people he put in Azkaban. They would certainly have cause. And who else would use two, or three, Unforgivables to accomplish their goal?"
"You have a good point," Gibbs agreed. "But what are Unforgivables?"
"Oh!" Hermione said, surprised that they hadn't already told him. "Unforgivables are the three curses that will land you an automatic life sentence in Azkaban. The Imperius Curse: mind control, the Cruciatus Curse: torture, and Avada Kedavra: the Killing Curse. Most people don't think it's worth the risk, but a Death Eater who'd already been to Azkaban wouldn't have much to lose."
"Ah. So how do we find out who Hart put in prison?" Gibbs asked, sure by now that they had some unconventional (to him) way to find the information.
"Well," answered Hermione. "We could ask someone who was there."
"That's it?" Gibbs asked in surprise. "No spell to search the records? No time-travel back to the trials? Just ask someone?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "Unfortunately, the records are sealed and we'd need special permission to get a time-turner. But on the upside, we happen to know someone who was there and," she added. "You can't get there by Floo."
Gibbs looked truly happy at this bit of information. He was slightly less happy when he found that their actual form of transportation was a flimsy looking broom. However, to his immense surprise, he found that he was a something of a natural when it came to flying. Ron showed him the basics but after about five minutes, he had the hang of it and was doing quite well by himself. He was, in fact, doing rather better than Hermione, who had never quite figured out flying.
They set off, heading, as best Gibbs could figure, mostly north. They flew above the clouds to avoid, according to Hermione, being seen by Muggles. It was cold, but the sun shone and flying proved to be quite enjoyable. Gibbs was relishing the feel of the wind in his face; it reminded him of jumping from airplanes. After a few hours of pleasant soaring, Hermione shouted up to Ron.
"It's coming up. We should start down," she yelled.
Ron gave a hand signal indicating that he had heard and started into an easy dive. They got a good drenching as they descended through the cloud layer, before emerging above a beautiful countryside. Mountains ringed a green valley, where Gibbs saw a large lake in the middle of rolling foothills. Near the lake was a large, medieval-looking castle. Lights twinkled merrily in the windows and Gibbs could not help but feel secure. The place exuded a sense of comfort and hominess. As they came in for a gentle landing just outside the gates, Ron grinned widely.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Agent Gibbs."
********
They warmed themselves by Professor Dumbledore's fire as he bustled around the office preparing...something. He bent low by a cupboard, tugging something out of the doors. He straightened, and in his hands was a large stone basin carved with various symbols. A silvery light glistened from the top, illuminating Professor Dumbledore's face in eerie relief.
"Tea?" he offered, as he set the stone basin on his desk.
"No, thank you," Gibbs replied, trying hard not to make a face.
"Yes, please," Ron accepted.
"Is that a...Pensieve?" Hermione asked in awe, as if she had not heard the question.
"Indeed, Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered as he waved his wand, conjuring a cup of tea for Ron. "My memory is not what it used to be, and I find that the Pensieve is very useful when trying to remember past events. Now, you wanted to know about the Death Eater trials two years ago?"
"Yes, sir," Gibbs answered, unconsciously taking the lead of the team. He recognized the respect that Professor Dumbledore deserved, or else never would have called him 'sir'. "Specifically, which Death Eaters were convicted on Richard Hart's information."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore remembered as he prodded the Pensieve with his wand. "Richard Hart. A curious case, that. The first W.I.Z.A.R.D. case we have had in a very long time. He put five top Death Eaters in Azkaban, maybe more. Which ones, you ask? Let's see..."
He continued poking the stuff in the basin, which swirled and changed colors. Eventually a figure emerged from the top, a pale but good-looking man sitting chained in a chair. He was speaking in a confident, almost bored, tone.
"Lucius Malfoy, of course," he said in a smooth, unfriendly voice. "He was You-Know-Who's right-hand man. Patrick Hayes was his chief Imperiator, in charge of mind control. Gretchen Leddy was one of his top spies, used her 'feminine wiles' to gather information. Timothy Rory was responsible for the Cruciatus Curse, training and regulation. Floyd Sweeney was director of Operations, put the Dark Lord's plans into action. Vivian Westin was manager of Personnel; she directed recruitment and punishment."
The man stopped speaking and sank back into the Pensieve. Dumbledore gazed up at the three as if asking if that was what they had wanted. Gibbs nodded in thanks as Hermione finished scribbling the names onto a scrap of parchment. The three stood and shook Dumbledore's hand, starting for the door while voicing their appreciation. Dumbledore stopped them at the door.
"How were you planning on getting back to London?" he asked conversationally.
"We brought brooms," Ron explained.
"Might I offer the services of our thestral herd? Night is fast approaching and thestral travel is much faster than broomsticks."
Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy looks. They clearly did not like the idea but did not want to offend Professor Dumbledore by refusing his offer. Gibbs took charge again.
"We would appreciate that, Professor," he answered politely. He hoped thestrals were nothing like Floo.
Dumbledore summoned a very large man by the name of Hagrid to his office and asked him to please fetch three thestrals from the forest. Hagrid started off, his humongous steps thundering down the staircase. Twenty minutes later, they again felt his approach and he burst through the door.
"They're waitin' fer yeh, Headmaster," Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid," Dumbledore nodded, before leading them downstairs.
Gibbs wasn't sure what to think of the thestrals. On first glance, they looked something like horses, but they most definitely were not. Long snouts protruded downward from blank eyes and their skeletal appearance gave them an eerie, haunted feel. Their wings were bat-like, and Gibbs supposed that overall they reminded him mostly of dragons.
Ron and Hermione were looking around, as if they could not see the thestrals. Ron was muttering something about, "unnatural beasts" and Hermione wore a nervous expression.
"I take it, Agent Gibbs, that you have seen death?" a soft voice asked behind him.
Gibbs turned quickly to see Professor Dumbledore gazing thoughtfully at him. "Um, yes. I work in Law Enforcement. And I was a Marine before that." Gibbs was not sure why exactly he told Dumbledore this, but the man inspired a deep trust, even in the cynical Gibbs.
"You will have to help Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, then," Dumbledore said without explanation. "As they have not yet, thankfully, been exposed to that awful experience." With that, he swept his robes around him and returned to his office.
"Thestrals can only be seen by those who have seen death," Hermione explained.
"Oh," Gibbs replied, unsure of what else to say. He helped Ron and Hermione mount their steeds, then approached his own. He supposed it couldn't be too different from getting on a horse. He settled awkwardly behind the wings and turned to Ron and Hermione. They were both wearing looks of extreme discomfort and Gibbs imagined it must be very strange to sit on a horse you couldn't see.
"Er," Ron said. "I guess...Ministry of Magic, please." He spoke toward the head of his thestral. Suddenly, all three rose quickly into the air. The thestrals were not the most comfortable ride, but Gibbs found it quite similar to a military transport. His only worry was that he might doze off and fall from his mount.
"This is better than Floo by a long shot," he muttered to himself.