Charlie sat in the meeting room, nervously tapping on the table. Don had obviously pulled a few strings to get them a private room, although a camera was staring him in the face and there was another one over his shoulder. It was private from the other inmates, but not from the guards.

The door opened and two guards led him in. He was young, younger than Charlie, probably in his mid 20's, with a shock of red hair that clashed horribly with his orange jumpsuit. He sat down staring at Charlie. He had bags under his eyes and he looked gaunt. Charlie's heart started to pound.

"Who're you?" he asked in a thick English accent, glaring at Charlie.

"I'm Charlie Eppes. I'm a professor at CalSci. I was one of the people who found your girlfriend," Charlie said. He couldn't stand meeting his piercing gaze, but he didn't want to stare at the table or the wall the entire time either.

"Have you seen her? Is she alright?" Ron asked hopefully.

Charlie shook his head. "I… I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll find out for you, though. I have a connection at the FBI." Weasley looked decidedly unimpressed at the promise. "Listen, strange things are going on. I thought maybe I could help you."

"You want me to help you?" he laughed. "Are you mental? If you haven't noticed, I'm in bloody prison. They say they're going to deport me. They think I'm a bloody terrorist. Do I look like a bloody terrorist to you?"

"No, actually. No, you don't. Listen, I think there's a lot more going on here than we know about."

"You've got that right, mate."

"I saw something today," Charlie said, whispering for no apparent reason. He knew the microphones could pick up his voice. "I saw something that I couldn't explain. I thought maybe you'd know what it was."

Weasley's eyes narrowed to slits. Charlie had his attention. "Tell me exactly what you saw."

Charlie relayed, once again, the story of the house. Weasley listened carefully, not interrupting, but not acting the least bit surprised. Somehow Charlie got the impression he was talking to the right person.

"Right," Weasley said when he was finished. "This Amita, you say you've known her for years." Charlie nodded. "And she's been acting quite peculiarly? Like she's not herself?"

"Yes, that's right." He wondered what this man knew. "That's exactly right. Nothing she's done lately fits her personality. It's like she's someone else."

"She is," Ron said. He was staring at Charlie intently. It was as if a switch had been turned on behind his eyes. Charlie realized there was more to him than was apparent at first glance. "That's exactly what she is. She's someone else masquerading as your friend. We need to get to her before she knows we're on to her. I need my wand. Can you get it for me?"

Charlie's eyes darted about the room. "Wand?"

Ron sighed and placed his hands on the table. "Listen, you're a man of science, right?" Charlie nodded. He supposed that was an apt characterization. "Well, you're going to find this hard to believe, but you need to try to open your mind. Magic is real." He paused for a moment to let the words sink in.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I mean what I say. Magic is real. I'm a wizard. I'm a real, honest to God, wizard. But I can't do anything without my wand. This person pretending to be Amita is a dark witch. They call themselves Death Eaters. Think of your Ku Klux Klan, but with powers that you can't possibly understand." Charlie suddenly felt cold and light headed. Either this guy was the only one who knew what was really going on, or both of them had gone bonkers. "You can't stop her. Not without magic. I need my wand. Get me my wand." He tapped the desk for emphasis.

"You say this person is pretending to be Amita. So where is the real Amita?" Weasley just sighed. Charlie just froze. "You mean you think she killed her?"

"I have no idea. Death Eaters; they hate muggles."

"Muggles?"

"Non-magical people. People like you. Amita's life wouldn't be very valuable to her."

"So you know this... this Death Eater?"

"Only by reputation. Her name is Nikka Fowling. Seven years ago was the second Wizard War. A dark wizard calling himself Lord Voldemort came back to power after a 13 year absence. The Death Eaters were his followers. Nikka escaped justice. I came to America looking for her. I found out that she was enrolled in this university so I followed her here. She's trying to find out about nuclear reactors."

"But, why?"

Weasley's voice become very soft. "That's a question I'd rather not know the answer to, mate." Charlie nodded. On that point, they were in total agreement. "I need my wand. Now. Talk to Hermione. She can help you."

"Is she...like you?"

"She's a witch, yes. Please. Hurry."

Charlie nodded and signaled for the guard to come get him. He was an enormous man who seemed to be testing the tensile strength of his uniform.

"What a nut job, huh?" the guard sneered once they were walking down the hallway.

Charlie forced a smile and small chuckle. "Yeah. He's pretty far out there."

"Let us know how you come finding that magic wand, okay?" the guard chided.

Charlie laughed again, pretending to find the guard hilarious. He couldn't believe he was actually on the side of guy who believed in magic wands.

--

Charlie walked into the FBI headquarters, trying to act casual, with Larry trailing right behind him. He had filled Larry in on his conversation with Weasley. Larry seemed intrigued with the idea of magic as some sort of set of advanced physics principals that were beyond their current understanding. That was a very Larry explanation, but somehow it seemed to lack the beauty of it just being... well... magic. But the source of all these powers wasn't his primary problem right now. Right now, he had to get his hands on that magic wand.

"Hey, Don," he said, almost too casually as he approached Don's cube.

"Hey," Don responded. "Did you talk to Weasley?"

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Sure did. You bet," he stopped himself from continuing. He wished he were a better liar. "Didn't get very far, though. It was a total waste of time. So," he cleared his throat, "Larry and I… well, we thought we'd come over here and see if we could take a look at your evidence reports. You know, see if we get any ideas or whatever. I mean, couldn't hurt right?" He smiled brightly and chuckled a little. Don and David exchanged glances. Charlie knew he was a terrible liar but this was by far his worst performance.

"Um, sure," Don said. "Knock yourself out. Let me know if anything jumps out at you." Don rifled through his folder and pulled out a stack of papers.

Charlie laid them on a desk and Larry joined him leaning over them. Charlie forced himself to spend a moment on each page, even though he wanted to tear through them and find the ones related to the wand. Finally, he found it, but it said that it was found among the possessions of Hermione Granger, not Ron Weasley. Of course, Charlie thought, they would each have one. That makes sense. A few pages later he found the one for Weasley. He pulled the two pages to the side and forced himself to pretend to read through the rest of the pages.

"This is interesting," Larry piped up. Charlie cringed internally. Larry was not any better an actor than himself. "What's this about the substance inside these sticks being unknown?" He showed the line to Don.

"Yeah," David answered, "that struck us as strange as well."

"Well," Larry said, "we could analyze it back at the university. We can probably get a better read on what it is there. Your lab analyzers have a lower Faraday constant." Charlie thought it was a good thing Don had gotten a C in physics, otherwise he would obviously realize that Larry was spouting nonsense. But he was spouting it in a very convincing way. "You see, the molecules of wood are compressed in such a way that…"

Don held up a hand. "Okay, whatever. You can figure out what's in these things? That's fine. But be careful because we don't know if they're dangerous or not." He picked up the papers from Charlie and gave them a cursory glance. "Here, you can take this green glittery powder too. See if you can analyze that as well."

"Oh, no problem," Larry said. "We handle toxic substances at the university sometimes. We'll have all the safety procedures in place."

--

Ron sat on the cot in his cell. He kept telling himself that this place was nothing compared to the years that Sirius Black, Harry's falsely imprisoned godfather, had spent in Azkaban. But it was horrible. He wanted to go home to England with Hermione, get married and start their life together. But he also wanted to catch Nikka Fowling. He hoped that Charlie Eppes fellow could do something to help, but he didn't know if he had believed him at all.

"Hey, Weasley!" a guard barked, coming towards him in the hall. "You got a present. It's your magic wand." He said the last two words in a sing-song manner and then began to laugh, his ample belly shaking. "Don't turn me into a frog or anything, okay Weasley?" he said and then started laughing hysterically. He poked the wand through the bars.

Ron reached out and took it. Actually, turning him into a frog wouldn't be very difficult at all, but it seemed far too good for him. After all the "accidental" trips and jabs Ron had suffered at his hands, perhaps the Cruciatus curse would be more apt.

Ron stood in in cell, fingering the smooth wood. Ever since he had started at Hogwarts when he was only 11, he had kept his wand with him night and day. He couldn't believe how much he had missed it. The guard turned down the hall, still chuckling to himself.

The cell to the left of Ron's was empty. The one to the right was occupied, but he was busy writing on a piece of paper. Ron grasped his wand and began to turn. In a moment he reappeared at the location Charlie had told him about. This was the house where the Death Eater supposedly lived.

Ron quickly ducked next to a house which appeared to be abandoned and waited. It wasn't long before a car came down the road. It stopped about a block away and three figures got out. Ron watched as they moved towards him. Once they got close enough, he recognized them.

One was Hermione. As much as he hated to put her in harm's way, he had never been so happy to see her as he was at this moment. She looked good, not bruised or harmed in any way. Perhaps the FBI had been a bit kinder to her than to himself. He was happy that she had been spared the brunt of their punishment.

Next to her was Dr. Eppes, the professor who had come to see him and, he assumed, had recovered his wand. The third person was Dr. Fleinhardt, whom had had briefly encountered during Hermione's unnecessary stint in the muggle hospital. From what Ron could glean, Dr. Fleinhardt was the one who held all the knowledge Nikka Fowling desired. Perhaps he could be used as bait.

Once they were close enough, Ron stepped out from his hiding place. Hermione squealed and ran over to him, jumping into his arms. Despite the desperation of the moment, Ron indulged himself for a moment, reveling in her presence. He kissed her deeply, sinking his hands into the mop of curls she wore on her head. Her small hands dug into his back.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, pressing his face against hers.

"Yes, of course. Are you?" she said. She took his face in her hands and studied it. He could see the pain behind her eyes at his appearance.

"Don't worry. There's nothing these muggles can do that I can't handle," Ron said. Hermione nodded solemnly.

"Here," she said, handing him a small bundle of clothes. "Please change out of that dreadful jumpsuit. I just can't bear to see it." Ron pretended to humor her, but in actuality, trying to pursue Nikka Fowling in such gaudy clothing hardly seemed like a good idea.

He ducked behind a large shrub and quickly changed into the jeans and shirt she had brought him. Ron tossed the jumpsuit into a nearby rubbish bin.

"Listen," he said to the two professors as he returned to where they were, "this is going to be dangerous. I can't guarantee your safety. If you want to turn back, now is the time."

Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You know I'm always by your side," she said.

"I know," he said. "But I'm not worried about you. You have a wand." He turned back to the men. "It's you two who have to make a decision."

Eppes swallowed hard. "I have to save Amita. I can't just walk away to save my own skin. She means more to me than I've been willing to admit."

Ron glanced at Hermione. "I know how you feel, mate. Just try to stay out of the way. And whatever you do, don't try to take Nikka on. She'll kill you. That's not a joke, Eppes."

Eppes breathed deeply and nodded. "Charlie. Just call me Charlie. If I'm about to die, I'd at least like to be on a first name basis."

Ron smiled. "Okay, Charlie. I'm Ron." He turned to Fleinhardt. "What about you?"

Larry ran his hands through his hair. "Amita is my friend. And those plans were entrusted to me. I can't turn my back on this. It's Larry, by the way. But, may I ask one small question before we do this? I just have to know." Ron shrugged. Larry pointed at the wand. "What's in those things, anyway?"

"Mine is a unicorn tail hair. Hermione's is a dragon heartstring."

Larry squinted at the wand, puzzling over it. "Yes, but how do you get it in there?"

Hermione shrugged. "Magic."

"But, if you need a wand to do magic, and you need magic to make a wand, then how did the first wand get created?" Larry continued.

Hermione stepped forward and put her hands on his shoulders. "Magic is stronger than logic. Magic existed before wands. Magic just is and has always been."

Larry gave a quick nod. Ron doubted that answer was very satisfying for him. "Let's go catch a bad guy now and worry about the nature of magic some other time, shall we?" Ron asked. "Now, here's the plan."