Chapter 27

"Where I'm still lost," Septima said, "is why Meredith Hennessy got involved in the first place! What possible motive could she have?"

The body of Nathan Price had been brought back to the morgue. It didn't take Doctor Crawley long to confirm that the cause of death had been the bullet to his forehead. Whilst he finished up his final examinations, everybody else had gathered in the foyer to fit the final pieces of the puzzle together.

"I think I've worked that out," Reid replied, "though I'm not sure if it could be proved. I believe everything ties back to Vivienne Stavros."

"Really?" Indira said cooly, "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"There are only small things that point to it," Reid continued, "but they seem to fit. Vivienne Stavros is on your board of governors. Cathy Johnstone mentioned the name again when she was listing prominent and old-fashioned Salem Pure-blood families."

"Vivienne is about as old-fashioned as they come," Robert nodded darkly.

He had never liked the woman. She was far too proud, too elitist. And she wasn't overly fond of him either.

"I gathered from the way you talk about her that you're not on good terms," Reid said, "Emily also told me that you recently appointed a Muggle onto your board. Ms Inkpen only mentioned to her that the government wasn't pleased about it, but it occurred to me that other factions wouldn't be thrilled about it either."

Indira smirked mirthlessly. Not thrilled was an understatement and a half. Vivienne Stavros had been against the idea from day one and she'd made her position clear: it was beneath a magical school to have such people representing it. Indira explained this to those assembled.

"When her protests go unnoticed," the witch said, beginning to add it up in her own mind, "she calls in Meredith Hennessy, somebody known to be willing to do just about anything for a decent pay off. And we found that pay off in her office."

"Whether she was involved in the murder plot or whether it was all Meredith's idea, like Nathan said," Reid went on," I couldn't say. But we can assume that Meredith was told to find a way to get rid of your non-magical board members. And what better way to do that then to show how non-magic is the enemy. Squibs are already looked down upon in your society, so if one was to go about killing pure-blood girls, there would probably be mutiny. That's why Amber and Lucy had to die: Amber was to be the rallying cry of the purist campaign and Lucy was the only way that Meredith could get Nathan on side."

Septima frowned. It was a twisted idea. And, as Reid explained it, it made a certain amount of sense. As much sense as something like this could make. But there were massive flaws, not with Reid's deductions but with Meredith's entire plan. Hotch saw the witch's puzzled face.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I just can't believe how she ever thought she could get away with it," Septima exclaimed, "It was obvious from the beginning that magic was involved. Why not just kill the girl herself and frame a Muggle?"

"Then it wouldn't be a direct attack on magic, would it?" Rolanda pitched in, "Random Joe Muggle is the killer and everyone goes, "well he was a bit nasty", but they can't necessarily use it to colour all the non-magic community. But with Meredith's plan, the entire motivation behind it is to hurt somebody because of their affiliation with Pure-bloods. It's an open war on wizards!"

Everyone looked surprised again and Rolanda gave a dramatic sigh. It was frustrating how people consistently underestimated her ability to pay attention.

"I'm just as good at deduction as your average boy genius," she said, "no need for the shocked silence."

At that moment Dr Crawley emerged, signaling the end of his investigations.

"I'll send the full medical report to Quantico when I've typed it up," he told Hotch, "Good luck filing the case report on this one."

He gave the group one last look, nodded politely at Hotch and then went back to his workspace, his hands in his pockets. The assembled people followed his lead in the opposite, heading to the exit doors. Poppy was the only one still turned towards the doctor, watching as he pushed the double doors open and disappeared.

"You go on," she said quietly to Minerva, "I've just got to check something."

Poppy found the doctor at a sink, cleaning his hands with a focus that was unnecessary for the task. Clearly there was something on his mind that he was trying to distract himself from. The witch had seen it many times and she gave a small sigh. The sound roused Dr Crawley.

"Oh, I thought everyone was leaving," he said awkwardly, straightening up and quickly going to dry his hands.

"We are," Poppy replied, "I just thought I'd ask-"

She paused. Working with the man all day, she'd been wanting to ask the question since she'd noted the signs of stress, but thought perhaps it would sound impertinent.

"Are you okay?" the healer said finally.

Dr Crawley opened his mouth to immediately protest his well being, but closed it again. A small amount of the tension in his body eased, as if he was relieved that someone had finally asked.

"I've seen some strange things in my lifetime," he said slowly, "but this morning I learned that an entire world exists beside my own, one that contradicts all the facts I've been taught. That hasn't been easy to deal with."

Poppy gave a small, sad smile. She thought perhaps she understood. The doctor looked straight at her, his eyes very serious, and for the first time Poppy noted that they were the brightest shade of green.

"Do you ever get tired of hiding?" he asked.

The witch was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. She was also surprised at the physical reaction it provoked in her, a sort of stirring of pain and bitterness in her chest and the pit of her stomach.

"Yes," she said softly, "I think I do."

Dr Crawley sensed he had hit a sore spot and hurriedly tried to apologize.

"Forgive me, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" he stammered.

When he saw Poppy was laughing a little, he relaxed again.

"Force of habit, I'm afraid," the doctor smiled cautiously, "People say there's a fight or flight reaction to challenging situations. Mine has always been the third path of investigate."

"I think that's very sound," Poppy said honestly.

The pair stood in silence for a second, Dr Crawley with his hands in his pockets, Poppy with her hands folded gently in front of her. It was the kind of silence that grew from knowing one had to leave, but not really wanting to, trying to use the space to think of something more to say. It was the doctor who spoke first.

"You know, I don't even know your name," he said, "Isn't that terrible? This whole day, and I just forgot to ask."

"Poppy."

"Poppy," Dr Crawley tried the sound on his tongue and seemed to like it, "Poppy. I'm William. Will."

"Will," Poppy repeated.

The man grinned.

"It sounds better when you say it."

The healer felt herself blushing. Well this was unexpected. She had come in yesterday and shamelessly used her powers of attraction to get her own way, and suddenly she found herself a victim of the very same tactics, from her own target no less. What was more, was that this time, she was sure, there was genuine feeling involved.

"Do you drink?" Will asked suddenly.

Poppy raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes," was her response.

"Would you drink with me?"

Poppy smiled despite herself.

"I think that could be arranged," she whispered.