SSA Aaron Hotchner gazed around the briefing room as his team filed in. Penelope Garcia was already in the room, getting ready to brief the team on their next case. Dr. Spencer Reid, the always punctual genius, was the first to file in followed closely by David Rossi, the eldest of their group. Jennifer Jareau, their veteran rookie who'd become a full time field agent and profiler, was followed by Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan, his two most stalwart agents. He cleared his throat, "Good we're all here. Let's get started."

Garcia started, "Four women in their mid-20's in St. Louis have been kidnapped from their homes, tortured, raped, and killed before being dumped on the front steps of various churches around the city." Her explanation was succinct, because nothing more was really needed. She clicked a few buttons on her computer and pulled up photos of the victims.

Morgan was the first to jump in, "They're all blonde haired and blue eyed. He's got a type."

Prentiss was flipping through her dossier, "They're all from middle class families, excellent grades, went to good colleges, high achievers."

Rossi put in his two cents, "They're probably surrogates, someone that he can take his rage out on, and it looks like a lot of rage."

Reid agreed but with a caveat, "The rage in the killing is escalating, but he's not devolving in the traditional sense. Each woman was killed in a more gruesome way, but all of the forensic countermeasures he takes are the same, and the spacing of the kills is all the same, one every three days."

Agent Jareau chimed in, "What about the religious connotations? He dumps them at a church. Is he remorseful? What message is he trying to send?"

"And it gets even weirder. The first three had discernable causes of death, even though the brutality of the attacks escalated with each kill. The last one was tortured but the medical examiner can't find a cause of death."

Everyone stopped for a moment to stare at Garcia before Reid zeroed in on the last woman's file. He said rapidly, almost to himself, "The unsub inflicted the same torture he did on the third victim on the fourth but he didn't escalate like he has been, he just stopped. She does have other injuries that the first three didn't have though. The M.E. noted that she had severe muscle tears, like she was thrashing around. Similar to being electrocuted but there are no burn marks consistent with that."

Aaron stood up, "If he follows the pattern he'll abduct another girl tomorrow, wheels up in thirty."


Hotchner opened the door of the main St. Louis Police Department precinct and led his team inside. A short man with thinning brown hair wearing a rumpled suit met him with an outstretched hand, "Agent Hotchner?"

He nodded and gripped the hand, giving it a firm pump, "That's right. These are agents Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi and Jareau. And this is Dr. Reid."

The man nodded at each in turn and introduced himself, "I'm Detective Graham Stinson. I'm lead on the case."

Aaron nodded, "Where can we get set up?"

"Right this way."

Stinson led the team to a small conference room, "You can use this room while you're here."

"Thank you."

Stinson nodded and Hotchner turned to his team, "Reid, Prentiss, I want you to go to the latest dump site, see if you can find anything. JJ and Morgan, re-interview the families. Rossi and I will go over the case files here and start building a preliminary profile."

The team nodded and as efficiently as ever, they got to work.

Eight hours later they sat around the conference table, no closer to a profile than when they'd come. Hotchner sighed in frustration, "Alright, enough. Let's go through it one more time."

Rossi started, "Our unsub kidnaps low-risk women from their homes, holds them for roughly twenty-four hours where he rapes and tortures them, and then dumps them on the front steps of a church. They have the same body type and hair color, indicating that he has a type. "

Morgan continued it, "He's been escalating the torture. The first woman had cuts all over her body from a single knife before she was stabbed multiple times in the chest. The second one had stab wounds in all of her extremities before being killed in the same way. The third was completely mangled. She had 43 stab wounds in her stomach and chest, but the stomach wounds were earlier. He wanted her to suffer."

Prentiss sighed, "The fourth had the stab wounds in her extremities and stomach but not the chest. She didn't die from blood loss though, the M.E. couldn't find a cause of death. All of this clearly shows that the unsub is becoming more enraged with each kill. But he is still methodical and precise, as shown by the three day period between each abduction."

Reid cut in, "He's most likely extremely comfortable in the area. Each of these women were taken from different parts of St. Louis so he's mobile and knows the area. He also dropped them at different churches. Two Episcopalian, one Baptist, and one Catholic, all in different neighborhoods and all with different socioeconomic congregations. It doesn't matter what church he drops them at just that it's a church."

JJ was contemplative as she went on, "These women are all surrogates, similar to someone that that he hates, that he wants to kill. He can't take it out on her so he takes it out on them."

Reid cut back in, "What I can't figure out is the fourth victim. If the unsub was consistent he would have escalated with the fourth victim but she had similar external wounds to the third. The difference is the torn muscles and the unknown cause of death. What could have caused those wounds and what killed her?"

Aaron looked over the three boards that they had set up, "It's a change of MO. The torture wasn't enough anymore so he had to escalate into something else. Whatever that is is the key to unravelling who this is."

They all sat around the table, heads spinning, trying to come up with something that would explain what had happened to the fourth victim. A knock on the door pulled them out of their reverie and Detective Stinson opened the door and stuck his head through, "Agent Hotchner? There's someone here to see you."


Aaron stood up and left his team with a few parting words, "Keep looking. Look for connections between the victims, try and find where they've all crossed paths."

He left the room, buttoning up his jacket on the way, and followed Stinson towards a man standing near the detective's desk. He was of average height, with messy black hair and glasses. He dressed like Rossi, in casual jeans and blazer, his entire outfit screamed expensive. As Aaron approached him he stepped forward and stuck out his hand to introduce himself, "Agent Hotchner. I'm Harry Potter."

Harry Potter sat in the bullpen of the Auror's office of the American Ministry of Magic, New York branch. He was filling out his latest case report about the arrest of a street peddler named Artie Brighton. Brighton had been selling class E restricted potions ingredients, smuggled into the country from Africa. He'd had to spend hours identifying and cataloguing the contraband. The whole case reminded him of Mundungus Fletcher, the old con.

WIth a groan he flipped the file closed, set down his quill, and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. His action drew the attention of his temporary partner, Andy Blake, and the young man said in his distinct New York manner, "Filling out case files too much for you old man?"

Harry gave the man a wry glance, "I'm only 43. Louis is at least 70 and he doesn't even break a sweat when he trounces you in training. I'm still in my prime."

Andy glared at him, "I'll have you know that I hit Louis with a tripping hex in our last duel!"

"Where he proceeded to rip you apart whilst lying on the floor."

Andy sighed and slumped down into his chair. Harry walked over and gave him a pat on the shoulder, "Don't worry rookie. I too was once like you."

The young man glanced over his shoulder, "Really?"

"When I was around 11."

"You asshole."

"Potter!"

Both men turned to the office of their supervisor, Louis Grey. He motioned with his arm and shouted across the bullpen, "Potter! I've got one for you. Get over here."

Harry nodded to Louis and then said to Andy, "Well, duty calls."

He strode swiftly across the bullpen and into the supervisor's office before closing the door behind him. Harry paced over and stood in front of Louis's desk. The man looked old, older than he normally did. Louis spoke first, "You probably want to sit down for this one."

Harry raised an eyebrow and then sat, "That bad? Is that why you didn't want Andy in here?"

The elder man nodded, "He also doesn't have enough experience working with and around mundanes yet."

"Mundanes. Is this another muggle baiting case?"

Louis shook his head, "No. It's a case that got kicked over to us from the F.B.I. There's a serial killer in St. Louis and the F.B.I was called in to consult but they're stumped by the fourth death. Here, take a look."

He handed over a file and Harry flipped it open before wincing, "Yeah I can see why you didn't want Andy."

"Look at the Medical Examiner's report."

Harry flipped through it and scanned the page, "No clear cause of death, muscle tears consistent with flailing. Stabs her, Cruciatus and then the Killing Curse?"

Louis nodded, "That's what it looks like. There was no sign of magic on the first three victims, that's why we haven't seen this until now."

Harry looked through the rest of the photo's, "He gets more and more violent with each kill, until stabbing them isn't enough and he needs them to feel the ultimate pain."

"The F.B.I has sent their Behavioral Analysis Unit to assist St. Louis PD. They're profilers, who look at the case and use behavioral science to narrow down the suspect pool. The problem is, if there is a wizard doing the killings their profile is going to be completely off. I want you to go in and fill in the blanks. Let them lead you to the suspect and then do the takedown."

Harry gaped for a moment. He knew that things worked differently in America. He'd known it the moment he'd taken the assignment to be on loan for six months to the American Auror Office. He'd had to take a week-long seminar on the American Auror procedures when dealing with Mundanes. In Britain only the Muggle Prime Minister was aware of the Wizarding world, and they left each other alone. In America there were perhaps a dozen very high level officials that were aware of the Wizarding world. The President, obviously, but other various National Security officials were aware as well. The director of the F.B.I was one of those, and whenever a case looked like it may stray into the Wizarding world he had the aurors brought in. Harry asked carefully, "You're asking me to clue in a team of people so that they can more accurately profile the suspect?"

Louis nodded, "Yes. The F.B.I director and I are in agreement. They've all been cleared to know. Nobody in the Auror's office has any experience with Serial Killers, we don't really get Wizard serial killers. Most of those types turn out to be Dark Lords and we have a bigger problem putting them down than finding out who they are. I need you to help the F.B.I find this guy and then you need to take down the suspect."

Harry stood up, "When do I leave?"

"We'll have a portkey for you in an hour. In the meantime, I'd like you to review the personnel files of the F.B.I agents that you'll be revealing our world to."

Portkeys were not nor would they ever be Harry's favorite method of travel. However, he'd mastered the art and unlike the first time he'd taken a portkey nearly thirty years ago to that fateful World Cup, he landed upright and steady in the small St. Louis Ministry of Magic office, duffel bag swinging slightly from his shoulders. Two wizards were there to meet him. One was a tall but with a large beer gut, wearing open robes over a stained T-shirt and jeans. He introduced himself as Kramer. The other was of middling height, skinny and pale, who eschewed robes entirely in favor of shorts and a brightly colored hawaiian shirt. His name was Clint. Harry flicked his eyes between the two for a moment, "Gentlemen, as much as I appreciate your strict sense of decorum, which way to the St. Louis Police Department."

Kramer laughed but Clint scowled at his joke. The large man definitely seemed the more genial of the two and slapped Harry on the shoulder hard enough to make his knees buckle, "S'not so far away. Six blocks north on the right. You can't miss it."

Harry grimaced, "Thanks mate."

He nodded to Clint and then stepped out of the Portkey receiving room. The back office of the Ministry building was rank, pizza boxes were everywhere and one desk was piled high with a pyramid of beer cans. Harry quickly moved through it and to a more presentable front office. It was quite mundane, with two desks topped by computers and stacks of files. Various posters were up on the wall. Some gave details about government programs and others were advice for tourists about St. Louis.

He stepped out the front door into the early evening. His nose twitched as he passed through a net of muggle-repelling and notice-me-not charms that layered the building. Turning north he walked the six blocks to the Precinct, not wanting to waste any time. He shortly came up to the squat brown brick building that was his destination and stepped inside. The precinct was controlled chaos, with officers and detectives alike rushing around to something or another. He glanced around, looking for someone in authority, until he spotted a receptionist who looked like she was trying to stay busy but had the air of someone who was bored to tears. He strode over and leaned on her desk, flashing a winning smile and asking, "I'm looking for the lead detective on the Serial Killer's case."

She looked up and he could see the moment she really noticed him. Her cheeks flushed and her pupils dilated a bit, a clear sign of attraction. She was cute. Slim with a fitted business suit, blonde hair pulled up into an artfully messy bun. He missed his wife. It took her a second to respond but she replied, "Ahm. That's, ah. Detective Stinson."

He winked at her and drawled out, "Thanks luv."

Turning away he looked around for the most harried looking detective he could find and when he spotted him, walked up to him and asked, "Detective Stinson?"

The man looked up with tired eyes and replied, "Yes?"

Harry grinned internally at guessing right the first time and said showed the Detective the I.D. badge he'd been issued for this case. Normally the blood red robes of an auror were all the identification he needed but in the mundane world he needed something more, since he couldn't very well walk around St. Louis in robes.

"My name is Harry Potter, I'm here as a consultant for the FBI. I'm looking for Agent Hotchner."

A glimmer of suspicion entered the detective's eyes, "I didn't know any more Agents were coming down."

Harry didn't let it phase him however, "I'm not an agent. The Director has contracted me to consult on this particular case with the BAU."

The suspicion didn't seem to abate but the detective nodded, "Alright. Let me get Agent Hotchner."

He turned and went to a large conference room that held six people, although Harry couldn't make much out through the blinds. He opened the door and stuck his head in, and a few moments later was followed out by a tall man in an extremely crisp black suit. He had short, neatly parted black hair and a strong jawline that made the grim expression on his face even more pronounced. When the man reached him he stepped forward to introduce himself, "Agent Hotchner? I'm Harry Potter."

The man nodded, "What can I do for you Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced around and then asked, "Is there a place we can talk privately?"

Agent Hotchner glanced around and said, "Of course," before leading him to a small office next to the conference room his team was in. Harry entered first and the agent followed behind and shut the door. While his back was to Agent Hotchner Harry surreptitiously slid his wand out of the holster on his wrist and cast a variety of privacy spells on the room so that they weren't overheard. He turned around in time to see and hear Hotchner say, "Again, what can I do for you Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned around pulled out the I.D. he'd been issued again, "As I said, my name is Harry Potter. I've been contracted by the Director of the F.B.I. to assist you on this case. If you'd like to call him to confirm I'd be glad to wait."

He'd added the last bit the moment he saw suspicion bloom in Agent Hotchner's eyes. The taller man slowly nodded and said, "I believe I'll do that. Wait here."

He left and Harry sat down in one of the chairs that sat in front of the office's desk and crossed his legs. Glancing outside he noticed that Hotchner had asked one of the policemen to stand outside the door, as if to guard him. Harry could understand the man's motive. He was an outsider, looking to get into his investigation. While the agent was making his phone calls Harry slid his wand out again and added even more powerful anti-eavesdropping protections to the room. He also layered on a targeted notice-me-not charm over the room that excluded the closest two people to the room, his guard and Agent Hotchner. After a few minutes the Agent came back in and Harry expanded the notice-me-not charm to cover the guard outside the door, covering the wand movement by steepling his hands in his lap and allowing the wand to slide back into his wrist holster. The Agent approached him but didn't sit down in the other seat in front of the desk, instead choosing to stand above him, in a position of implied power, Harry wryly noted. He was silent for a moment before speaking, "The Director has told me to allow you full access to our investigation and for you to be considered a full member of my team for the duration."

Harry nodded, "Good. Then I'd like you to sit down, we have a lot to cover and we're on a clock."

Hotchner nodded slowly and then sat down, straight and rigid. Harry immediately launched into the speech that had been drilled into his head his first week in America, "I am about to reveal classified information to you. This information is Top Secret, and should you reveal it you will be charged with Treason. This information does pertain directly to your case. If you do not believe that you can handle this, tell me now and another agent will be assigned to your case. There will not be any repercussions to refusing."

Harry was impressed when Agent Hotchner didn't even twitch. He nodded and then asked, "Will this information be released to my team?"

The Auror nodded, "Yes. If you accept your team will be briefed."

"And my team will have the same option to refuse."

"Of course."

The stoic Agent nodded, "Very well then. Brief me."

Harry nodded and began to explain, "We'll go ahead and get this out of the way. My full title is Auror Harry Potter, I am on loan from the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement to the American Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I am a wizard, and there is an entire hidden culture of magicals who live in the United States and have a governmental structure similar to that of non-magicals. The Director of the F.B.I is aware of this, and after reviewing this case file gave it to the head of the DMLE and we believe that the serial killer in this case is a wizard."

Agent Hotchner was silent for a moment and then said in a deceptively quiet voice that belied the real anger in it, "Mr. Potter. I do not have time for nonsense. I should arrest you for obstructing a fed-"

Harry felt that actions spoke louder than words and so flicked his wand out for a third time and conjured a large glass in his left hand. Hotchner's rant was immediately silenced and his eyes went wide. Harry put the tip of his wand over the glass and with a small exertion of will, filled the glass with water. He handed it over to the Agent who took it automatically but did not drink. Harry continued calmly, "I understand this may come as a shock to you, but you need to accept the fact that magic is real so that we can move on."

The Agents mouth moved slightly, like he was trying to say something, and Harry was secretly amused to have shattered the mans calm. After a few seconds Harry saw that he had the man's focus again as his eyes snapped back towards Harry's face and he said in a steady voice, "You believe our killer is a… wizard?"

Harry nodded, hearing the way the man tested the word wizard and taking it as the first step towards acceptance, "I do. I've looked over the case files the F.B.I sent over and can confidently say that the killer is a wizard."

"Why."

The short and to the point question didn't surprise the Auror, "The fourth victim, Ellen Hinson. Her autopsy report is consistent with certain spells."

Hotchner immediately caught on, "You know what changed. You know how she died."

"I do."

The Agent started to talk, but in what was probably an uncharacteristic rambling way, "But. If this is truly a… wizard. If there is magic. If this wizard is doing this. What is my team supposed to do. Our profile is based on understanding the unsub. If Wizards have a different government, a different culture. We can't create an accurate profile. This is a job for your… what was it? Aurors?"

Harry leaned back and sighed, "That's the sticky wicket. In general, when a wizard kills it is either a crime of passion, a crime of politics, of a crime against muggles. Non-magicals. The first we are able to investigate ourselves, because they are generally insular within the wizarding community. The second is against the political institutions of magicals, which is again insular within the community. The third is the hardest to deal with. Crimes against muggles are a potentially serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

Here he was interrupted, "Statute of Secrecy?"

"The Statute of Secrecy was enacted in 1692 to completely sever the Wizarding World with that of the Muggle. Before 1692 both worlds were somewhat integrated, wizards lived and worked in concert with muggle but the Salem Witch Trials and other witch burnings of the time convinced Magicals of the day that they needed to go into hiding to preserve themselves. Thus, the Statute of Secrecy was created and Magicals erased themselves from muggle history, and from their lives. Since then we have lived as a hidden culture in each country all over the world."

"That doesn't explain why your Aurors are not investigating this."

Harry sighed, "Auror's are good investigators, but we don't have experience with something like this. Wizarding serial killers are so few and far between as to be non-existent. Wizards tend to be more, Dark Lord types. They're generally pretty loud and fighting them is more trouble than finding them. No, we'd spend most of our time following this guy from body to body and probably never catch him. This case is also too wide-spread in muggle media and the police are all over it. It would be impossible for a team of Auror's to investigate without drawing attention to ourselves. It was decided that I would be inserted into your team, fill in any of the gaps in your knowledge, let you lead me to the suspect, and do the takedown."

Hotchner frowned, "Is there going to be a particular danger, in taking down a wizard?"

Harry smiled sadly, "Anyone capable of casting the spells this wizard has, is going to be incredibly dangerous to anyone, including a fully trained Auror. Once you lead me to him, I'll have to do the takedown alone."

The Agent nodded slowly, "Very well. What now."

"Now, we need to brief the rest of your team. Then you need to give me everything you've got so far so that I can help your profile."

Agent Hotchner's face, if it were possible, became even more solemn, "That will be… difficult."

At this Harry cracked an actual grin, "Yes. Dr. Reid will be particularly hard to convince."

Hotchner shook his head, "I'm still not sure if you've convinced me yet. Really, all this could have been sleight of…"

Harry interrupted him by grabbing a paperweight from the desk next to him and tapping it with his wand, turning it into a large knife. There was visible shock on the F.B.I. Agents face. Harry smiled sadly again, "Magic is a beautiful and terrible thing. You can do anything you set your mind to if you have the power and imagination to do it. And from the look of things, this guy has power to spare."