Author's Note: I've been writing this story for years now and I've decided that I want to get it finished! You heard it here folks, I'm vowing to focus on finishing this fic if it kills me!

Chapter 22

When Robert and Hotch burst into the Muggle Studies room, Indira and JJ were already giving the others an account of what they had discovered in the Magical District. JJ could hardly get a word in, as Indira talked excitedly to Septima about how they'd broken in to the detective's office. Minerva watched on fondly, giving JJ a knowing smile.

"It was just about the most exciting thing I've ever done," Indira exclaimed, only then pausing to take a breath.

"There are developments?" Hotch asked.

"Yes," Indira said quickly, cutting JJ off as she opened her mouth to speak.

She was speaking more to Robert than to anyone else, her eyes focused on him.

"Us too," Robert said, going over to where his colleague stood, "You go first."

"Well," Indira began, clearly gearing up to give out another big explanation, "Agent Jareau, JJ, I should say, and myself discovered that the so-called journalist was not actually a journalist but a private investigator."

"You're joking," Robert said flatly.

"And," Indira went on, "once we had gained access to her work premises (which, by the way, involved some very cool magic on my part), we found out that she had been working for Vivienne Stavros."

"Stavros?" Robert said sharply, "Are you sure?"

"It was in her diary," Indira nodded, "We tried to contact Mrs Stavros, but apparently she's out of the country."

"Convenient," Robert whistled; he had never liked the witch in question.

"Quite," Indira said, finishing with a satisfied smile.

"Am I the only one who finds this little banter situation adorable?" Garcia interrupted.

Indira blushed and looked away. Rolanda, who was seated next to the technical analyst, whispered something in her ear, causing the pair to burst into poorly concealed giggles. Minerva muttered something to Septima about "bad influences".

"So what did you get from the husband?" Rossi asked, his question directed at Hotch.

Hotch opened his mouth for a second and then said, with a humble grin, "I think Robert would be better at explaining it."

He gave the other man a nod and Robert stepped forward a little, so he could be better seen by everyone in the group.

"Squib," he said simply and a gasp of understanding came from all those magical. "Of course," Minerva sighed, "Of course."

"Did he just say squid?" Prentiss asked, looking around in confusion.

"Right, so now there's a magic squid that manages to float unseen through urban areas, attacking people with kitchen utensils?" Morgan said sarcastically.

"Please tell me that's not real," Garcia squeaked, "Or I will never sleep again."

"Squib," Minerva said, "It is the term given to persons of magical birth who possess no magical abilities. It would explain why the third victim was killed in a different manner to the others; in the first two deaths, magic was involved. But, in the third, there weren't any signs of it."

"Because the unsub was incapable," Reid finished off the explanation, the puzzle pieces visibly falling together in his head.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Minerva said, her voice low and serious.

Hotch nodded.

"That is the current theory."

"How did you come up with that?" Rossi questioned.

"Lucy helped to run a support group for Squibs and their families," Hotch explained, "It was where both she and Amber were on Sunday."

"Along with the unsub and his partner," Prentiss added.

"So it would appear," Hotch agreed.

With this new information, a plan was made; James had been good enough to supply the address of the woman who helped to run the support group with Lucy. Rossi and Reid were to go and visit her, in an attempt to ascertain if anyone involved in the group might of wished harm on either Lucy or Amber.

"Can I go?" Rolanda asked, pleading with the agents, "You'll need someone to be your magical guide and I desperately want to go into the field!"

Rossi looked at the witch with apprehension.

"I'm not sure how interesting it will be for you," he said carefully, "We'll just be asking the routine questions."

"I'm fabulous at routine," Rolanda said reassuringly, "Aren't I, Minerva?"

"No-"

"-fabulous at routine!" Rolanda repeated.

Rossi glanced at Reid, who shrugged; he was personally all for spending as much time with the magical as he possibly could, relishing the idea of learning more about this newly discovered world. Giving in, Rossi sighed.

"Okay," he said, a word that received a fist-pump of triumph from Rolanda.

They began to exit the school.

"I can drive if you like," Rolanda suggested.

"No!" was Rossi's firm response.

After an eventful car ride (during which Rolanda had managed to break a windscreen wiper and get the radio stuck on Swedish), the two agents and their honorary companion arrived at a seemingly ordinary (from a Muggle perspective) house in an ordinary neighbourhood. The house, made of bricks, sat at the centre of a neatly cut lawn which was surrounded by a white picket fence. Rossi found it hard to believe that there was anything magical about it, but perhaps, he supposed, that was the point. He led the way up the path, firmly knocking on the door when he reached it. It was opened by an ordinary looking woman, shortish and a little round, with bobbed brown hair and a welcoming smile.

"Hello?" she said, a question slipped somewhere in her greeting.

"Cathy Johnstone?" Rossi asked.

"Speaking to you," Cathy said with a grin, "How can I help?"

"I'm Special Agent David Rossi and this is Dr Spencer Reid," Rossi began.

"I didn't know you were a doctor!" Rolanda exclaimed, turning to Reid, looking impressed.

"We're with the FBI," Rossi went on, "We've been told you can help us in relation to a support group run by a Ms Lucy Whithers."

Cathy froze up, her face going from friendly to defensive in a second.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she hesitated, backing slightly away.

Rossi was about to continue speaking, when Rolanda pushed past him, holding out her hand.

"Rolanda Hooch," she said chirpily, grasping Cathy's hand firmly, "Quidditch Mistress at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Assisting the FBI."

Cathy smiled again, nodding.

"Well that makes a difference," she said, "Please come inside."

Rossi and Reid just stared at her, as Rolanda followed the woman into the house, looking as casual as ever.

"See?" Rolanda said to them, "I'm not just a pretty face."