Chapter 26

The BAU and the McGonagall siblings, split between two cars, drove to the address that had been given to them in the file. Indira had contacted the Chronicle and was told that Nathan Price had gone home sick earlier that day. According to his supervisor, he wasn't the kind of person to make things up just to get a few hours off.

"The strain is starting to show," Hotch analyzed, "He's killed three people and it's catching up with him, altering his standard behaviour."

"He'll be dangerous then?" Indira said.

Hotch nodded.

"At his most dangerous."

The team leader had been reluctant to bring along any of the school staff to investigate the house. Yes, many of them had been in conflict before, but this was a high precision situation and he didn't want to risk putting untrained civilians in danger. But this was also an alien situation to him and the rest of his team. Despite the unsub's squib status, magic was still a factor. After some discussion, Robert and Minerva had been nominated to go along. Both were experienced duelists and had handled many a crisis.

As they rode in the car, Robert's face showed a slight presence of nerves. He had thought that anger would be his predominant feeling at this point, riding to capture the killer of his student and his friend. He'd certainly been angry in the past. Now, however, he felt almost conflicted. He'd read the file on Nathan Price, heard the story from Rolanda. No longer was Lucy's assailant a faceless spectre in the shadows. He had a name, a past, a life. Not much of a life, from what Robert had been told. Was any of what had happened actually the boy's fault?

"What are you thinking?" the quiet voice of his sister interrupted Robert's thought.

Minerva spoke only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

"Nothing is black and white, is it?" the wizard mused after a short while.

Minerva sighed.

"No," she responded, "I'm afraid it isn't."

There was a strange sense of calm foreboding hanging in the air when they arrived. Minerva had felt it before, that strange stillness that always seemed to proceed disaster. Mentally, she berated herself for being so silly; it never did to listen to so called feelings or vibes. Unfortunately this sensible attitude was somewhat negated by the fact that feelings and vibes were so often right. The house certainly did not raise the mood of the situation. Overgrown and browning grass formed a small patch of front lawn. White paint peeled off the boards on the walls. The windows were, at least, still intact, something that differed from those that neighboured it, though this did little to improve the house.

As soon as the cars had come to a halt, it was all go. Hotch motioned for Robert, JJ and Prentiss to follow him around the back. Rossi, Reid, Morgan and Minerva were to go through the front door.

"We're on high alert," were Hotch's final words to his team, "Remember, Nathan may already know we're coming."

Then he disappeared around a corner, the designated team members following behind him. Minerva reached into the folds of her robes, pulling out her wand. There was an unusual but familiar weight to it, as if it had readied itself for combat. That feeling calmed her and seemed to heighten her senses. The focus of war, she thought briefly, before her eyes went to Rossi, waiting for his instruction. The agent jerked his head toward the door, signaling the beginning of their search.

Morgan approached the door first, his gun gripped tight in one hand, the other gently checking the door handle; locked. Wanting to keep some the element of surprise on their side, as the locked door showed that they were expected, Morgan stepped aside and let Minerva unlock it with a silent charm. He tried the handle again and it twisted, but the door would not budge. Leaning against it, Morgan felt a weight that did not belong to a door of this kind.

"There's something pushed against it," he said quietly, "Maybe some furniture, large and heavy like a set of drawers or a closet."

"There goes entering undetected," Rossi said sardonically, "He knows alright."

Minerva took a breath, knowing that once she had cast the spell there would be no turning back.

"Bombarda!" she yelled, pointing her wand directly at the door.

A dust cloud billowed up as wood was forced inward, the door and whatever was behind it flying and splintering in the hallway. As the noise of the explosion subsided, a gunshot was heard from the other side of the house, the sound spurring the group forward. Who had shot, that was the question? And, Minerva thought with a jolt as she ran behind Rossi, who had been shot.

They entered a living room at the end of the hallway, to find Nathan Price standing next to the shattered glass of a sliding door. A gun was in his hand, the experienced eyes of the BAU agents noting his inexperience. His wrist shook, as he raised the gun to his new attackers, occasionally throwing a panicked glance backwards to check on those coming from the garden. Nathan moved the gun from Rossi to Minerva to Morgan to Reid and back again.

"Stay away," he warned, his voice breaking at the end.

His eyes flashed with fear and Minerva was reminded strongly of a horse that had just been spooked by lightening. The witch had lowered her wand but she lifted it again as the barrel of the gun was pointed again at her. The motion caused the unsub to snap into place, directing the weapon solely at her.

"Don't point that at me," Nathan hissed, "Don't you dare."

It was the sudden venom that startled Minerva. He had been obviously threatened by the presence of other fire arms, but the magical implement made him downright angry. Not that that was surprising, given his background. Slowly, Minerva let the wand fall to her side once more.

"Nathan," Rossi spoke, the gun spinning back to him, "my name is David. I'd like to talk."

"I bet you would," Nathan spat, his words still full of poison.

Rossi took a step forward. The young Squib's body tensed, his knuckles white, his eyes wide.

"Don't," he yelled, "I don't want to talk to you. You wouldn't understand."

"I might," Rossi said calmly, "I'm like you, Nathan, I can't do magic either. I'm just a plain old m-Muggle" -the word was still foreign to him- "and to be honest it scares me a bit."

Nathan didn't lower the gun, unconvinced.

"I didn't do it," he said desperately, "I didn't mean to. It was her, it was all her, she made me do it."

He was getting more and more worked up. Again he began to move the gun from person to person.

"It was Meredith?" Rossi asked, "Or was it Lucy?"

The mention of his beloved's name made Nathan jerk his head back towards the older man. Anger was visible in every movement he made.

"I loved her," Nathan said wildly, "She had no right to leave me for that, that nobody. We could have been so happy and she betrayed me."

"She did," Rossi agreed, trying to calm him down, "Deep down she deserved what happened to her."

It was a tactic that had worked many times in this very situation; build a rapport with the perpetrator, make them think that you sided with them, that you understood, so they would be more open to a peaceful surrender. But as soon as the words had left his lips, Rossi could see that he had miscalculated. Whatever Nathan believed about Lucy, he still adored her with the some obsessiveness that had pushed him to kill. And nobody else but him was allowed to pass judgement on her. Rossi had gone too far.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Without another word, rage contorting his entire face, Nathan Price squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet towards the federal agent with a loud bang. Minerva lurched forward, flicking her wand outwards, desperately trying to cast a shield charm between Rossi and the metal. Her reaction time was excellent, but so was the speed at which Nathan had launched his attack. The next second was awash with confusion as Minerva's yelled incantation mixed with the echo of the gunshot and the shouts of the others as they rushed into action. It was hard to discern what exactly had happened and then Rossi fell backwards. A wave of shocked silence ran over the room. Minerva closed her eyes with a pang; she had been too late. The gun fell from Nathan's hand, clattering to the floor. The sound pulled Minerva's focus and that was when she saw it. A small black dot had appeared on the young man's forehead. For a millisecond, it sat like a monstrous fly against his pale skin, until suddenly a deep crimson stream ran from it and Nathan crumpled downwards. The bullet had rebounded off Minerva's conjured shield and found its way back to its master. The boy was dead. Next to Minerva, Rossi slowly sat up, merely knocked back by the force of the spell. He was alive. It was over.