DISCLAIMER: Neither the TV show 'NCIS' nor the 'Harry Potter' book series belong to me.

"What d'you got, McGee?" It was tradition that Gibbs would say that, even if he didn't need to.

"A way to make a list. And the actual list, too." He hastened to add at his boss' look.

Tony and Ziva approached the junior agent's desk, each leaning behind him, perched on either of his shoulders. He didn't seem to notice that among his excitement of frenetically murdering the keys on his keyboard.

Harry looked interested. "Really? From Muggle records?" He approached them too, elbows on the opposite side of Tim's table and chin on his hands.

McGee nodded. "Here it is." He sent it to the plasma. "I only ran DC, because that's the extent of the area we can cover." He warned. The list was big enough, about three pages long, and Tony wondered how many kids had already been attacked.

McGee stood up, adopting his explanation voice. "Okay, so, first, I started with the kids who are already in… well, whatever school you send witches and wizards to." He glanced at Harry, who motioned for him to continue, shaking his head to tell them the information wasn't important at the moment. "Uh, right, so – this was the easy part. All I had to do was search the ones with zero activity during the school year – like you had." McGee nodded in Harry's direction and the young man looked impressed, grinning.

"Those" McGee continued. "were all kids between ten and eighteen years old. But I guessed that wasn't all, since Mary" He chanced a glance at the child, who was listening with rapt attention. "is only eight. I did assume you don't want protection for the adults?" His sentence had turned into more of a question by the end, but Harry shook his head, agreeing with him, so he continued.

"Then, the younger ones. That was the tricky part. At first, I thought they found them by magic." He glanced at Harry, who immediately shook his head.

"No. With the Ministry, we can only tell either when there has been magic done in front of Muggles, or when the magic done is a spell of reasonable strength. Mary's case was the second."

"That's what I figured. So I found another way – social networks." He grinned smugly at their expressions of bewilderment. "Whoever those guys are, they are committed. They have been literally glued to computer screens, and whenever someone posted anything remotely about any weird occurrences (and I've seen that these aren't impressive occurrences), they-" He stopped abruptly, taking sight of Mary. "They check it out. I imagine they made a list, because they've already seen a lot of posts-"

"Hold up." Harry interrupted, looking confused. "How do you know all this?"

"Uh, I spotted the pattern and pin-pointed the IP addresses. Then I saw the records of their searches." He said. Harry still looked bewildered, but he shook his head, muttering something about being out of the Muggle world for too long. "Anyway, there are several computers always conducting searches. Whoever it is, they're good. They know exactly how to find what they're looking for as fast as possible by-" He shut up abruptly when Gibbs glared at him. "You don't really care- Right, so – the point is, I have the list. The weird thing is, they could have hidden their IP's, but they didn't. And their history is wide open for everyone to see. It's like they're trying to be found. The only reason I've discovered this much from such vague information is because they're making efforts so that happens."

"Well, that would make sense." Harry spoke up. "They're pure-bloods, so they wouldn't know how to work with computers very well."

"Yeah, but," McGee looked troubled by this anomaly. "like I said, they're good. Everything else says so. They wouldn't make this mistake. Which is why it's strange."

"What if they're people they're forcing into doing this?" Gibbs questioned, another coffee in hand.

Harry paused in silence for a moment. "That" He said slowly. "actually makes a lot of sense. They're purebloods," He told them, the words beginning to rush out of his mouth as he continued his train of thought. "so they have no idea how to work with a computer. They would need Muggles to work them. Who are probably there against their will, and waiting for someone to notice them."

There was a beat of silence at that revelation.

"DiNozzo, disappearances of anyone computer trained." Gibbs immediately ordered. Tony flew to his desk, starting up his screen.

McGee wasn't done yet, though. "The names on the list have started to be… visited." McGee's voice turned serious and stiff. "Police reports show that they've been taken out, one by one, following from top to bottom the list we got." He nodded at the plasma screen. "Witch means, our list matches theirs perfectly." His voice faltered, and Ziva figured that the information was over. "Boss… most of the kids they've hit so far are under nine-years-old."

That revelation brought silence. Tony paused his work, Mary bowed her head to her paper, as if she knew exactly what that sentence meant (and didn't want to), and everyone else stood, rather rigid, not knowing what to do. Then Tony clenched his teeth and doubled his speed in typing.

That seemed to be the spurring they needed to come out of their shock. "Right. Location, McGee?"

"No." Harry spoke up. His voice was sad, but sure, and he was absolutely certain in his actions. Gibbs turned to him with a glare. "You can't." He repeated, making sure he left no doubts. "They are too many. I'm known for doing stupid and reckless things, and even I know not to do something so unbelievable idiotic."

Whatever retort their boss was about to give was drowned when Tony found what they were looking for. "Boss, sixteen MIT graduates were kidnapped about a month ago." He was gaping at the screen, as if he couldn't believe what he was reading. "No evidence, no cameras, no witnesses, nothing. They just disappeared from a class reunion."

Harry nodded. "They took the opportunity."

"Are you kidding? How the hell is this a kidnapping of opportunity?" McGee sputtered in utter confusion. The wizard just raised an eyebrow. "Stupid question, of course." Tim muttered.

Harry grinned. "So they have really do have Muggles working for them?" He switched the subject, and his surprise was, for once, evident in his face, even if the idea had been his. He'd obviously expected it to be a crazy thought, coming to nothing. "That's desperate. They hate you people." He gave them a half-glance. "No offence."

"None taken." Tony rolled his eyes.

Harry was about to say something else, but he was interrupted before he could.

"Agent Gibbs?" Someone called from outside their bullpen. "Your suspects are awake."

Harry was hesitating, obviously struggling not to stop them in their tracks immediately. "I'm not sure you should be the ones interviewing him…" His voice trailed off at the expression on Gibbs' face.

McGee had stayed behind with Mary again, and he was actually starting to become a little disgruntled that he was stuck baby-sitting for the second time. Which, of course, had delighted Tony, and the senior agent had wasted no time in displaying his glee. Ziva had, however, dragged him off after Gibbs before their boss needed to head-slap him again. They'd taken off to Interrogation, and Harry had followed.

"We're trained in interrogation." Tony told him, mildly annoyed. "We can get it out of them."

"At least give him that." He threw them two vials and Tony caught one while Gibbs grabbed the other. "Verisaterum. Truth serum." He explained further.

"Seriously?" He asked in wide-eyed astonishment, eyes peering a lot more closely at the small bottle of transparent liquid.

Harry nodded, smirking a little at his childlike enthusiasm. "Yeah – sure could have used that a couple of times in my life." He mumbled, and Tony got the feeling that that wasn't for their ears. "Anyway, a few drops should be enough. I really should go in there with you-" He tried again, but Gibbs interrupted him.

Rolling his eyes, their boss had stopped next to the first interrogation room. "DiNozzo, go talk to the other one." And he disappeared inside the door.

Harry shrugged in defeat, slipping into the observation once. Ziva followed Tony down the hallway. He entered the interrogation room, she slipped inside observation. He was slightly uneasy about conducting an interrogation with the bare minimum of information about the guy – all he knew, literately, was that he had moved to the states as a small child with his mother, under the pretense that they wanted to get away from the reputation his father had left him.

The moment his foot appeared through the door, the guy was snarling in protest. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Hey, aren't you the guy my partner knocked out with the help of the ground?" He asked mildly, dropping into the chair on the other side of the table he was on. The guy leaned back, as if physically repulsed by him, and Tony raised his eyebrows.

"That's you, right?" Tony shoved the file – a picture they'd taken and the name Mulciber, given to them by Harry – he had in his hands in front of him, and it distracted the guy enough for him to drop the liquid Harry had given him into the glass of water there – brought earlier, as per his request, by Harry, who, though Mulciber hated, he apparently didn't consider dirty.

"What did you just do?" He asked immediately, glaring at him.

"Hm? Me? Didn't do a thing." Thankfully, Mulciber was staring at the middle of the table, where he had seen his arm hovering. He hadn't seen the vial, or Tony dropping part of its contents into the glass. "So, back to me asking the questions."

Besides leaning even further back, the only thing that had changed in Mulciber's demeanor was that he was pointedly avoiding the place of the table he'd seen Tony's arm on.

"I am not speaking to your kind." He grabbed his glass, as if worried that Tony would poison it, and held it in his hands close to his body. Too little, too late, in Tony's modest opinion.

Tony settled in to start talking in a way that would completely lose him. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Usually from Italian haters. I guess people kinda resent the whole tall, dark and handsome thing, you know? My philosophy is: haters gonna hate right up until I kick their sorry asses into next week. Then they'll hate me even more. And it won't be all about racism anymore, either!" He said cheerfully.

Apparently, his speech had lasted long enough to make him seriously thirsty, so Mulciber took a sip from his cup.

All set, then. "So, regarding racism – what can you tell me about the little project you and your buddies are undertaking?"

"Yeah, we've been trying to track down your mum." He really hoped the serum hadn't kicked in yet. Americans: wizards or not, they could never resist a mum crack.

He forced a smile. "Cute. I'm gonna repeat the question: what are you and your friends' plans, exactly?"

He seemed suspicious that Tony wasn't cracking jokes anymore, going straight to business (like anyone who spent over a minute with the senior agent would), but he answered anyway. "I told you. We've been trying t-" His voice faltered and Tony figured he'd be feeling talkative now. "We're gonna rid the world of the scum that's been tainting our noble blood."

Wow. He'd really just said that, hadn't he?

By the time Mulciber had widened his eyes in realization, it was too late.

"Sounds great." Tony tried not to clench his teeth. "I'm sure the kids and the families you've been murdering agree with you. So," He changed the subject, refusing to let himself show his anger too prominently. "any particular reason you've been focusing on small children?"

"Easier to take out." He muttered, obviously struggling to lie and unable to do so. That was pretty bright – Tony guessed keeping him mouth shut just hadn't occurred to him. "Don't know how to protect themselves yet."

For a moment, Tony forgot the proper rules of interrogation, and let his shock and disbelief show in his expression. The squirming being in front of him was crossing his arms, talking about murdering little defenseless children, and looking proud of it. He didn't get why he was calling Tony the disgusting one.

Unable to control himself, his foot connected with one of the legs of the table, and he leaned forward so much that his face became inches of Mulciber's - the guy was unable to distance himself any further. "You always pick on people not your own size?"

Mulciber kept silent, apparently done sharing. He sneered, but Tony could smell the masked fear. "Don't worry about your current situation, though." The senior agent continued. The punk had nothing else to tell him. He thought about what McGee had relayed about what Harry had said. "Harry Potter will be taking you home."

And Tony left, the image of the guy swallowing dry giving him too much satisfaction for his own good.

"How's Mary?" Were the first words out of his mouth as soon as he entered the observation room Ziva was in. He noticed Harry there too and gave him an acknowledging nod.

The look on her face was hard to pin-point. It was a mixture of sympathy, anger and cautiousness. She understood why he was so desperate to know, after watching his 'conversation' with Mulciber. "She is fine. McGee is still with her."

"I went downstairs, so I can attest to that." The wizard in question piped up. "And, while I'm speaking, I'm rather keen on knowing why you used my name to scare him." He sounded mildly annoyed, and mildly embarrassed.

Tony shrugged, unfazed, and went to lean against the glass, his back to Mulciber on the other side. He crossed his arms, blankly staring back at the young man. "I needed to use whatever I knew. And I didn't know much. You happened to be one of the things I could use."

"It kinda sounded like you just wanted him to piss his pants."

"That too."

Harry smirked. "Good. I hate people who lie about their true intentions." He made a face, as if he were familiar with that kind of event. Then he shrugged it off, peppy again, and leaned against the opposite wall than Tony. Ziva was left in the middle like some kind of barrier, and that seemed to make her uncomfortable, so she stepped to the side to stand by the door. "So, you seem pretty attached to… Mary, is it?" He commented casually. Tony got the feeling that he had both known her name perfectly well and that his comment was a prompt for something else.

Tony stared at him, not answering for a second or two. Then he gave a single nod.

Harry looked pleased about that, as if it was something he was worried about. "That's good. She's going to need someone who can be there for her, and I get the feeling that her family aren't exactly ready for that right now."

"What would you know about it?" Tony asked in mild annoyance. He had no idea who'd named him Mary's defense, but he was taking up the job pretty eagerly.

"I lost my parents when I was one, not eight, it's true." Tony, instantly regretful, opened his mouth to apologize, but Harry waved him off, wordlessly telling him that he wasn't saying that to make him feel bad. "So I never really got to know them. But," He continued. "I did meet a lot of people, throughout my life, who felt like parental figures. They helped me deal better with a lot of things. You have an opportunity to make it easier on her. You should take it." The blunt way he'd said it left him wondering it that was a piece of advice, or a commanding order.

He also had no idea what he was talking about. Mary had been uncharacteristically upset at seeing him leave upstairs – she knew who he was going to speak to - which had left him feeling uneasy. He was starting to worry, maybe a little too much, about her.

Harry left, and he was alone in the observation room with Ziva. And he was instantly sharply aware of the last time that'd happened, too.

She shuffled her feet, crossing her arms and looking down. He wished she wouldn't. He couldn't see her eyes that way.

He mentally cleared his throat at the thought. Right. She drummed her fingers on her arm, and he realized just how awkward the air had become. Obviously, he wasn't the only one remembering yesterday's… thing.

He, suddenly and unwittingly, took a step closer to her, facing her fully. He could hear her breathing quickening and see her eyes widening, and she was looking like she'd looked when she had one of her flashbacks. But she didn't seem anywhere close to pulling back, and he briefly wondered what exactly had happened during the time their memories were erased. He saw her lick her lips. Now he really wondered what had happened last January.

"I really don't wanna do this anymore." He had no idea what mind-bogglingly stupid being had told him to speak. Absolutely no clue. Maybe it had something to do with the permanently imprinted image in his brain of her wearing his shirt only. She turned to him, and there was something in her eyes that told him his next words should be chosen with care. It was also telling him that, for once, she wasn't unwilling to participate actively in this exchange of words.

You have an opportunity. You should take it. He was pretty sure that Harry hadn't meant for him to make an ass of himself with those words, but Ziva didn't look like she was going to punch him anytime soon, so he figured he was in the clear. He swallowed the urge to bolt and searched for whatever guts hadn't yet turned into jelly inside him.

"I have- feelings" The way he pronounced the word rang as though it was meant to sound as something else. "for you. Well, more of a deep-seated obsession, but that's hardly the point-" He was suddenly trying to joke. Well, old habits die hard.

"Tony." She warned, and he snapped his attention back to her brown, shinning eyes.

He nodded. "Right." And closed the inches between them to press his lips to hers.