At the end of the main road, Hermione turned left at a cross street and led them past the last of the shops and businesses to an open grassy meadow. The group skirted a small stage and came to a stop at a broad, opaque dome lying on the ground. A sandy-haired wizard in dark robes watched their approach.

"Dawlish," Hermione nodded in greeting before turning to Brennan. "This is where the bones were found. Oh," she remembered suddenly, "I should let the Minister know we're back." She pointed her wand, releasing a streak of silver that raced back down the street they'd just come up.

Brennan circled the edges of the dome, eying it critically. "The bones are beneath this?" she asked. At Hermione's nod, she continued. "I don't see a way to get in so that I can conduct an examination." She kicked it gently and a loud gong reverberated in the air. "Is there a way to get a crane here to lift this off?"

With a quiet pop, Kingsley Shacklebolt joined the group. Tall and imposing, the glint of the gold hoop in his ear matched the elaborate embroidery of the magnificent robes he wore. With a nod, he dismissed Dawlish, who apparated with a pop, and approached Booth and Brennan, his expression open and friendly, hand outstretched. "Well done, Hermione, well done."

"Thank you, Minister," she answered with a smile. "Dr. Brennan, Mr. Booth, may I introduce the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Minister, Dr. Brennan and her husband, Mr. Booth."

"Just Booth is fine," the agent said, grasping the Minister's hand firmly, registering immediately the aura of power and authority radiating from the regal figure.

"And Dr. Brennan," Kingsley's deep voice rumbled as he held one of Brennan's hands between both of his. "On behalf of the wizarding world, may I say how grateful we are to have someone of your expertise helping us with the difficult situation we find ourselves in. Whatever we can do to help you in your endeavors, the resources of the wizarding community are at your disposal."

"Thank you," she smiled back, responding as had Booth to the weight of control and command in his manner. "The first thing I need is to actually see the remains. How long before we can get a crane up here to lift this covering?"

Kingsley smiled down at her. "A crane won't be necessary, my dear." Facing the dome, he curved his wand in an arc over the dome. It shimmered and wavered momentarily before disappearing, leaving visible the dark slash in the earth.

Booth and Brennan exchanged glances before Booth leaned close to her ear. "Rational explanation, right, Bones?" She let him see her irritation before offering the Minister a tight smile.

"Thank you," she offered before turning her back on the rest of the group to approach the hole, Booth following close behind.

"Male," she said as she walked around the perimeter, peering down from above. She crouched to get a closer look before sliding fully into the deep crater. Closer now to the skeleton, she pulled a pair of gloves from the pocket of her jeans and quickly snapped them on. "I need more light," she said, looking around at the shadows of the deepening twilight. "Does anyone have a flashlight?"

"Oh, light is no problem," Hermione said cheerfully. With a flick of her wand, several brightly glowing balls settled into the hole, floating easily as they chased away the darkness.

"Right," Brennan muttered to herself, glancing up at the shimmering orbs before shaking her head and focusing again on the skeleton. "Caucasian," she added. "The presence of wisdom teeth indicate he was over the age of 18," she said, her fingers on the mandible. "Bone markers indicate approximately mid-30s. That's all I can give you regarding age until I conduct a more thorough evaluation." She brushed soil away gently from the protruding bones. "The remains have been here for quite some time. I'll need to do more analysis before I can give you a precise time frame."

"She knows all that just by looking at those moldy old bones?" Ron asked in disbelief.

Booth chuckled. "That's her magic," he said, grinning broadly at Ron's disgruntled expression.

Brennan ignored the chatter above her as she lifted the cranium from the surrounding earth. "You were right, Hermione, this a bullet wound. .38 caliber, I think," she added, looking at Booth. She turned the skull in her hands, exposing the large jagged gap of the exit wound on the opposite side. "Unless the victim was already dead when he was shot, this wound would definitely have been fatal." Looking at Booth again, she added "Based on the depth of the grave, I believe he was buried here after he was killed. We probably won't find the bullet." Transferring her gaze to the regal figure staring down at her, she continued. "I'm afraid, Minister," she said, staring up at him, "you have a murder on your hands."

"Oh, dear," he sighed. "I was so hoping you would tell us otherwise." He sighed deeply. "Well, Dr. Brennan, what would you like to do next?"

Brennan reached up and allowed Booth to assist her out of the hole. "What I'd like to do is transport the remains to my lab at The Jeffersonian. But I will probably have to settle for finding as comparable a facility as possible here in England. It won't be as advanced as my own lab, of course," she said matter-of-factly, "but I'll do my best to adapt."

"Would using your laboratory enable you to solve this riddle more quickly?" Kingsley asked, considering her seriously.

"Yes," she said. "My lab is equipped with the best diagnostic tools in the world and my team is the best available."

Kingsley tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well then, my dear Dr. Brennan, you may send this poor chap off to America on one last grand voyage. Better we have this resolved quickly than to take over some poor local doctor's facilities."

Brennan and Booth exchanged a startled glance. "Just like that? We can ship human remains out of the country, just like that?" Booth asked.

"Oh, yes," Kingsley replied. "The Muggle Prime Minister assured me I could take whatever steps necessary to avoid bringing our little community into the light." He smiled, his earring glinting in the glow of Hermione's glowing orbs. "I believe this qualifies as a necessary step."

Brennan shrugged. "All that matters to me is that I have approval. I'll just need to gather some tools to help me remove the bones, and a box or crate to ship them in. Booth," she looked at her husband, "I may need your help with the bones."

"What sort of tools do you need?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Small brushes and spades," Brennan answered. "I need to remove the surrounding soil from the area around the bones very carefully so as not to mark or damage the bones in any way." She paused and glanced at her watch. "I won't be able to ship them out tonight but I can have them ready so they can go first thing tomorrow morning. We should also phone Angela or Cam and let them know the package is coming," she added to Booth.

Hermione interrupted somewhat hesitantly. "If I may offer a suggestion, Dr. Brennan," she began, glancing between the two Americans. "If you'll allow us to help, we can move this along somewhat faster."

Brennan stared back suspiciously. "Help . . . how?"

"With magic, of course," the witch answered. "I can remove the bones without doing any damage at all. We can also arrange to have the package delivered to your laboratory by magical means and avoid the time limitations of Muggle air freight."

"What is this 'Muggle' thing you all keep saying?" Booth demanded, his tone exasperated. "We're Americans. I'm from Philly. Where the hell is Muggle?"

Ron snickered, earning a blistering glare from Booth. "It's not a place, mate. You're a Muggle because you're not one of us, a wizard. It's not an insult," he said, smirking. "Mostly. It's just who you are. Like, you're a Yank. You're a Muggle. Same thing," he shrugged. He smiled at Booth's obvious irritation and patted the older man's back. "No worries, chap. You're a good sort, for a Muggle."

"What Mr. Weasley is trying to say," the Minister of Magic interjected with a stern look at Ron, who tossed one last, slightly abashed look at Booth before falling silent, "is that it is simply a term used to describe individuals without magical ability. It is merely how we differentiate wizard from nonwizard, and no insult is intended." He nodded graciously at the American visitors.

Brennan ignored both men and spoke directly to Hermione. "Show me," she instructed. "Show me how you can remove the bones without causing damage." She pointed down to the skeleton. "Start with the right ulna."

"The what?" Hermione repeated in confusion.

"In the right forearm," Brennan instructed, rubbing her fingers down her own arm for guidance.

"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione answered, looking down at her own arm before stepping up to the hole. "Ossorior," she intoned, sweeping her wand slowly over the bones below. Tiny whirlwinds of earth and soil swirled around the right arm before a long, thin bone slowly rose and floated toward the witch.

"No," Brennan said sharply, interrupting Hermione's reach for the bone. "You're not wearing gloves." She plucked the bone from the air and examined it carefully. "This is the radius," she noted, "not the ulna but I can find no evidence of damage, at least none that is visible to the naked eye." She raised a brow at the other woman. "I recognized the words 'bone reveal,' " she said. "Do you speak Latin?"

"Not conversationally," Hermione admitted, "but many of our spells have a basis in that language."

"Well," Brennan admitted, "if you can remove all remaining 205 bones this easily, that would be very helpful. All I need then is a box and packing materials."

Hermione turned to the Minister of Magic and nodded back to the stage. "Minister, may I . . . ?"

"Of course, Hermione. It served its purpose," he nodded graciously.

She turned back to the stage and lifted her wand. Creaking and cracking, the wooden planks of the stage rearranged themselves into a rectangular wooden crate. From behind Hermione, Booth leaned toward his wife.

"Don't say it," she warned, staring straight ahead. With a chuckle, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, planting a kiss on her temple before releasing her.

"Is this large enough, Dr. Brennan?" Hermione asked, unaware of the interaction between the two Americans. Brennan looked from the crate to the bones and nodded her head.

"Yes, I believe so." She watched intently as Hermione, using the same spell she'd used to lift the radius earlier, removed each of the bones of the skeleton carefully and gently arranged them in the crate. Glancing into the box, Hermione frowned and circled her wand slowly. Inside, a soft foam appeared, cradling the bones and preventing them from knocking against each other. When all 206 bones were safely inside, Brennan looked back at the now empty hole.

"I'd also like to send some soil samples from the area around where the bones were found, if that's possible," she said. "I'll need some containers."

"Of course," Hermione said. "I'll just go and see what Rosmerta can spare." With a twist and a pop, she disappeared. She was back within minutes, glass flasks and jars clinking in her arms. "I wasn't sure exactly what you required, Dr. Brennan, so I brought several different sizes for you to choose from."

Refusing to look at Booth, Brennan smiled briefly. "These will do fine, thank you Hermione." Shunning the witch's offer of help, Brennan slipped back down into the hole and began scooping dirt into the different bottles, muttering to herself as she worked. Booth recognized a few words now and then and smiled to himself.

When the bottles were securely seated with the bones, Hermione sealed the lid of the crate. "What do you plan to do with the package, Hermione?" Kingsley asked in his deep, rumbling voice.

Having given this some thought, she answered immediately. "I thought I'd send it to Geneva Quimby, my counterpart in Salem," she said, looking at the Minister for approval. "She could pop down to Dr. Brennan's laboratory tomorrow morning."

"Hmmm," he nodded. "Yes. Yes, I believe that is an excellent plan. Dr. Brennan?" he turned to her. "Does that meet with your approval?"

"I don't understand," she looked at both of them in confusion. "You're going to send it to someone in Salem, Massachusetts?"

"Yes," Hermione answered. "And she will deliver it where ever you wish tomorrow."

"But how?" Brennan asked. "How will you get it to Salem, and then to Washington DC, all by tomorrow morning?"

"Bones," Booth stepped forward and murmured in her ear. "After everything we've just seen, do you really want to know the answer to that?"

She opened her mouth to respond, looked at the four wizards and closed it, shaking her head. "No. No, I don't want to know."

A sound from behind the group had everyone turning.

"Oy," Ron mumbled at the sight of his parents with a redheaded boy in tow. "The troops are all here."

"Ah, yes," Kingsley said, "Arthur and Molly were with me when your message arrived, Hermione. I asked them to give us a few minutes to, er . . . conduct our business before they joined us."

The young boy raced to Ron. "Dad," he whispered in a voice that carried, "are those the Muggles? Granddad said you were with Muggles."

"Hugo," Hermione scolded gently, shaking her head at her son. Gesturing to the two adults, she introduced them. "Dr. Brennan, Booth, Arthur and Molly Weasley. As you can probably guess by the resemblance," she smiled, "they're Ron's parents. Mum, Dad, Dr. Brennan and her husband, Booth."

"Wonderful to meet you," Arthur exclaimed, happily grasping both of their hands in turn. "Absolutely wonderful." He glanced behind Brennan to the still gaping hole. "And you're going to be helping us out of a spot of trouble, eh? Capital! Wizard – Muggle cooperation at its finest! How extraordinary!"

"Don't mind Arthur," Molly grinned cheerfully at both of them. "He's always beside himself when he has an opportunity to meet with Muggles. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Granger are only now getting used to him! Oh, Harry, dear," she continued, tapping his cheek fondly, "Ginny went ahead to the Burrow with Lily and Angelina to start dinner. Our little celebration in honor of the memorial has become a bit of something else, but no matter. Kingsley, you'll join us, of course?"

"I wouldn't miss one of your fine meals, Molly," the Minister of Magic intoned with a smile.

"And of course, Dr. Brennan, Mr. Booth, we insist on having you join us as well," Molly waved their immediate protests aside. "Nonsense, nonsense. You have to eat, don't you? Of course you'll join us!" Ron, Hermione and Harry looked on helplessly as Molly's friendly, forceful personality finally drew nods of agreement from the two Americans. "Wonderful!" she said happily. "I'll just go ahead myself – shall I take Hugo with me, Hermione?"

Hermione drew her protesting son close and kissed the top of his head. "Yes, please. We have a bit more to take care of here but we'll be along shortly."

"Very well, dears, see you soon! Arthur, come along and let the children finish up." Molly grasped Hugo's hand. "Ready, sweetheart?" she asked fondly. At his nod, she grasped his hand and disappeared.

Arthur insisted on shaking their hands for a few minutes longer before, with a cheery promise of a longer chat after dinner, he, too, disappeared.

The silence that stretched for the next sixty seconds was all the more noticeable after the noise and jocularity Molly and Arthur had brought with them. Finally, Ron began to laugh and stuck his elbow in Booth's side.

"In about thirty minutes, mate, you're going to wish I really had turned you into a frog."

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If you lucky people with early Pottermore access see a mistake I've made in post-DH canon, please let me know. Despite all my begging, I've yet to get my email. *sniff sniff*

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