Happiest of birthdays to SMJL! In honor of this special day, here is the Harry Potter / Criminal Minds crossover that no one asked for! Enjoy some Spencer Reid x Ron Weasley brotp.

Simple, But Never Easy

Step One: Gain His Trust

Like all missions, this one wasn't easy. It was, however, relatively simple.

In fact, when larger, seemingly impossible tasks could be broken down into shorter, more tangible goals, every mission became simple. At least according to Robards, Ron's boss.

Nevermind that going undercover inside a muggle prison was eons away from Ron's comfort zone, or that he was in a different country and his bright red hair and accent stood out like a sore thumb. Even though his southern lilt sounded quite rough around the edges in his homeland, it was posh for a maximum security correctional facility in Washington D.C. He did not belong there, and everyone knew it. The sooner he could complete this mission and get home to Hermione and baby Rose, the better.

The cell doors squealed open, breaking Ron from his reverie. A tall and skinny man with sunken eyes entered the room, flanked by two armed guards clutching him at the elbows. They shoved him through the doors and locked them, leaving the prisoner to stumble and nearly trip on his way to his cot. He caught himself on the edge of the bed before gently lowering to a seat, wincing as he made contact. He rubbed his side with his hand and grimaced.

The scene brought Ron right back to the war, reminding him of countless nights nursing mysterious injuries. Unknown hexes and curses would leave worrisome marks that made sleeping on a cold cot all the more unbearable.

"Are you okay?"

The other man barely acknowledged him. "I'll be fine."

The way his cellmate brushed off his injuries suggested they were caused by other prisoners. People like Ron couldn't be trusted.

He had to start somewhere.

"My name is Ron," he said, offering an awkward smile and wave.

The other man studied him for a moment; his eyes scanned his body up and down as if sizing him up or looking for a weapon. "Spencer."

"Nice to meet you. What are you in for?" asked Ron, even though he already knew.

"Murder. But I didn't do it."

Ron believed him, of course, but he couldn't help but wonder if anyone else did. If there was one thing he's learned from murderers, it was that they always claimed they didn't do it.

When Spencer reclined onto his cot and lifted his foot from the ground, Ron caught a glimpse of a shadow underneath his bed and a smile spread to his face.

"Is that a chess set?"

Spencer glanced over his shoulder and squinted at him suspiciously. "Yes. Why?"

"How'd you get it? I thought that was contraband."

"My old cell mate had it smuggled in. Left it here when he got transferred."

Ron nodded, his fingers twitching with the urge to start a game. "Want to play?"

"You play?"

"Yes. I love chess!"

With a muffled groan, Spencer propped himself back up. "Let's do it."

Gaining his trust, making a friend — maybe it was simple, after all.

Step Two: Get Information

Ron and Spencer sat in the cafeteria huddled away in a corner by themselves. After countless nights of chess and light questioning, Spencer was finally starting to open up and share the details of his crime.

Although Ron knew a lot of it already, there were still a few missing pieces.

"They found your blood and prints on the knife?"

Spencer nodded. "Yeah."

"What does that mean for your plea deal?"

"It's no longer an option."

Ron's heart sank for Spencer. Of course, Ron knew it would work out, but he couldn't help but put himself in Spencer's shoes. How terrifying it must be for him to not know what would happen.

"Well, that's bollocks. How do you think he did it?"

He, of course, was who Spencer referred to as "Mr. Scratch", the man who supposedly framed him. The Aurors had a different name for him, and thanks to Ron's budding friendship with Spencer, they had a lot more information about his whereabouts.

Spencer sighed. "He's done this before. I think he gave me a hallucinogen — a drug that made me see things that weren't there."

"What drug?"

"Scopolamine. But it wasn't in my system. They found cocaine and heroin, but didn't know to screen for Scopolamine. So they just assumed I was a junkie, which made them more willing to believe I could do something like this."

Of course they didn't screen for it, thought Ron. They wouldn't know how to screen for magic, either.

Every conversation with Spencer left Ron's head spinning. In a way, he was grateful to learn more about the internal affairs of muggle law enforcement. Drug screens. Forensic evidence. Fingerprints. It would be so much more efficient if they could perform magic.

"But you didn't take the cocaine or heroin—"

"Of course I didn't! But, it's not hard for them to believe I did. According to them, once an addict, always an addict."

Spencer had confided in Ron about his dormant narcotics addiction, the result of a case gone wrong almost a decade ago. Ron believed him when he said he was clean and nothing would ever be worth a relapse. "You're different though."

"Honestly, I am starting to question how different I am."

Spencer's words sounded too familiar to Ron. "This place will do that to you," he said, gesturing around the room where they were surrounded by more prisoners, murderers who also 'didn't do it.'

The same thought crossed Ron's mind during the war. During the final battle, as he was throwing hexes left and right, the death toll became a number, a necessary evil to win the war. He often wondered if his good intentions were enough to justify some of what he did, and questioned how different he was from those he fought against.

"You wouldn't kill someone in cold blood."

Spencer glanced around and brought his voice down to a whisper. "That's the problem. I remember doing it, but it wasn't me. It didn't feel like me."

"You remember taking the drugs?"

Spencer shook his head. "I remember holding the knife."

Ron's eyes went wide. "Just holding it?"

Spencer paused. "I remember stabbing her."

Ron's stomach sank for his friend, who didn't have a plausible excuse for his own behavior. "Have you told anyone that?"

With a shake of his head, Spencer continued, "No. Because it wasn't me. It was the drug. But no one will believe that."

"So this drug just made you do it?"

"I know it sounds insane, but yes. Almost like a spell, or something."

Right. The Imperious Curse. It was amazing how far muggles would reach to explain things that didn't make sense.

"I know you don't believe me," said Spencer. "If I hadn't seen Scratch do it before, I probably wouldn't believe me either. I'm a man of science, after all."

"I do believe you."

"Thanks," said Spencer, although his tone suggested he wasn't convinced. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't." He took a large bite of his jelly before continuing, "I hate to say it, but it's looking like I'll spend my whole life here, and Scratch will run free. I don't see any other way."

I do. I see the way.

More than anything, he wished he could tell him. The explanation was simple to Ron. Spencer was right that muggle law enforcement would never catch 'Scratch', but the Aurors would.

Unfortunately if he told Spencer the truth, it would just make everything more complicated in the end.

Step Three: Make It Disappear

Ron should have been excited when Harry showed up, but of course, Harry wasn't there to visit him.

"Spencer Reid?"

"Yes?" said Spencer as he looked up from the chess board. "Who are you?"

"I'm your new lawyer," said Harry, avoiding eye-contact with Ron. They couldn't risk giving away the fact that they knew each other, not in front of someone as astute as Spencer.

"What happened to Fiona?"

"I have access to information she doesn't," said Harry. "You can trust me."

Spencer looked over at Ron who shrugged, trying to mask the pit in his stomach.

"Let's go somewhere more private to talk," suggested Harry.

With a nod toward Harry, Spencer addressed Ron. "We'll finish this game later?"

"Yeah," said Ron. His voice cracked because he knew that would never happen.

"I'll see you soon, then," said Spencer, standing up and straightening out his jumpsuit.

"Of course. See ya."

The guards that had accompanied Harry opened the door and handcuffed Spencer before leading him down the hall. Once they were facing away, Harry turned toward the cell and beamed.

"Hey! Here's your wand," he said, tossing Ron's wand through the bars. "Let's do this."

Ron's eyes stung with tears, but he held them in. He didn't need Harry to see; it would just make what was supposed to be a simple mission more complicated. "Yeah. It's time."

Harry turned to follow Spencer down the hall to continue their 'chat', and Ron held his wand in his hand, preparing for step three.

There was so much to be done — obliviating everyone in the prison who had interacted with Ron or Spencer, altering the memories of Spencer's FBI teammates, and inserting new ones that made up for lost time.

Thanks to Ron befriending Spencer and learning about his private life, there were likely Aurors at his mother's home, a team for each of the lawyers, family members, or coworkers that knew about his case. In fact, a whole crew was likely infiltrating the prison right now to perform a magical reset. There was probably a team down in Mexico altering the memories of the officers that originally arrested Spencer.

Robards always talked about step three as the most difficult. No memories could be missed, no connections unaccounted for. They must be meticulous in their charms and erase every shred of evidence that Spencer Reid had ever been charged for murder.

It also meant erasing every chess game, every late night conversation, and every moment speculating about what was really in that green jelly. Spencer wouldn't remember hearing about Hermione or Rose, or telling Ron about his mother who, thanks to her progressing dementia, thought he was at the beach, not prison. He wouldn't recall confiding in Ron about how it felt to lose Gideon, then Maeve, then fearing that he'd lose his whole team too.

He wouldn't remember telling Ron that his friendship made prison slightly less of a living hell.

Ron would remember, though.

Ron pointed his wand at the chess set, causing it to reset and slide under Spencer's cot, erasing the evidence of a game he'd never finish. It was a quick wave of his wand, and it left him feeling hollow, empty.

So yes, this was the hardest part, but not for the reasons Robards suggested. According to his boss, it was simple. Just make it all disappear, one memory at a time.

But unfortunately, simple never meant easy.