A/N Thanks so much to people who leave reviews. I really appreciate it when people take the trouble to do so, especially those of you who do so on a regular basis - without you, and you guys know who you are, supporting my work and me, I probably would have ceased posting my work by now, at least publicly.
This isn't beta'ed so if you find something major that I missed, let me know so I can fix it.
Serieux Part 2
Chapter 13
Hermione followed the spare, angular woman as she escorted them towards the lift, suggesting that they might want to start their tour down in the bull pen Delores apologised, "I can't show you MTAC – the Multiple Threat Assessment Centre – I'm afraid that I don't have security clearance to enter that area. It's restricted."
As they all squeezed into the lift together she studied the tall woman discreetly. She vaguely remembered Tony mentioning someone named Delores; he seemed to be rather fond of her. Hermione noted that Ms Bromstead had a melancholy about her that could easily be interpreted by other people as anger. She recalled a popular expression at the moment - resting bitch face - and she thought Delores epitomised that definition to a T. Her prickly appearance and dour demeanour meant that people probably never bothered to look beyond her austere outer wrapping.
Still, if she was a friend of Tony's she must be more than a petty bureaucrat and who better to see beyond her façade to keep others at bay than Tony. A wizard who expended so much energy ensuring that no one got close enough to him to figure out what he was really hiding. Also, Hermione noticed that when the severe looking woman spoke about Tony, Delores smiled and her whole demeanour was transformed – she become less tense somehow.
So she was probably not hiding consciously, more likely hiding because someone or something had hurt her badly and she was unconsciously trying to protect herself from getting hurt again. Classic defence mechanism – sadly.
Hermione had a sudden flash of intuition that smiling – being happy - wasn't something that came naturally to this woman.
She found herself comparing Delores to her mother – externally they were of a similar physical type. Both were ectomorphs, naturally tall and thin with little to no body fat. Hermione had also inherited her mother's physique, but like her mother, despite their height and their slenderness, they both had a softness about their features that was most definitely lacking with Delores.
She suddenly realised that the difference probably came down a life- well lived, a life despite having experiencing sorrow and tragedy, which had also been full of loving, laughter and joy too. Her mother, despite enduring losses over her life, including difficulty conceiving and several miscarriages, had also been blessed with a fulfilling career, home and a loving family, which included a daughter and two grandkids. Although they were of a similar generation, by contrast with her mother, the older woman seemed dried up and devoid of joy. That is, until she smiled, and Hermione felt that it was a fairly rare occurrence. Delores obviously had enjoyed professional success but Hermione wondered if she had family or people who cared about her.
"We'll put ourselves in your most capable hands, Ms Bromstead," she replied cordially to the Human Resources manager, responding to her question about visiting the bull pen, even though she knew that Tony wasn't there.
Delores practically glowed as she beamed at not only the minister but her entire entourage. Somehow her bearing became proud although it was subtle, more of an attitudinal thing than a physical one. In a weird way, despite the obvious physical differences between the two very different individuals, the sheer joy at being on the receiving end of her compliment reminded her of Dobby when Harry had offered him genuine but simple praise. She teared up thinking of the little elf who'd sacrificed himself for them so bravely.
"Please, call me Delores, Minister Granger. I'm so very honoured to be able to show you around NCIS. Plus, I thought that you might be interested to see where Tony works?" She asked, seeking out Hermione's reaction and smiling again when she nodded.
As the head of the Human Resources department led the way out of the lift and they all followed in her wake, Hermione intuition pinged again. Delores' demeanour might manifest as angry on the surface but it wasn't anger so much as a bitter resignation and a world of weariness. What had caused it, she wondered?
Delores led them to the MCRT work space, pointing out Tony's desk where his beloved Mighty Mouse stapler took pride of place on his desk along with the detritus of files, reports, scribbled notes and phone messages littering his desk. "Wow, I thought Tony was exaggerating about being inside a pumpkin." Hermione commented, spinning slowly to take in the room.
"Surely this is cruel and unusual punishment making people work in a place painted such a bloody awful colour," Justin agreed with his boss rather emphatically, given a mock shudder. "Uhwwww. Makes me feel like a pepita seed."
"DiNozzo must be colour-blind. How else would he be able to work in such an appalling environment day after day?" Dean agreed with his former year mate unreservedly.
"It does take some getting used to. Remind me to show you the conference room – it has accents of ultramarine blue and vermillion red as well as the orange. Since victims of crime or grieving loved ones are frequently interviewed in there, I'm sure they must feel like they have woken up in a Magical Mystery Tour. Personally, I think that some soothing pastel shade would be far more conducive to encouraging them to be calm and share information to agents. However, no one ever asked me what I think."
Hermione nodded in agreement, but also stared at Delores speculatively, wondering at her choice of words, even if she was acquainted with the Beatles album and movie since both her parents were fans. Still it twanged her antennae and made her study the woman even more intently.
As she showed them around, Delores asked if there was anything in particular they were keen to see. Considering her question momentarily, Hermione responded that she'd be very interested in seeing their forensic lab and autopsy facilities. After showing them the evidence garage with the retinal scanner that everyone was suitably impressed with but attempting to act nonchalant about, she followed up with a visit to the gym where some teams were training.
Next Delores led them back to the lift, down to the bowels of the building where the autopsy suite was located, regaling them with anecdotes about the building. She explained that over a decade ago, a terrorist gained access to the building in a body bag delivered to the morgue and how a killer smuggled himself in by hiding under the seat of a taxi cab that was driven up to the gates of the Naval Base with a corpse in the back seat.
"We even had a disgruntled lab technician get hired on who had a grudge against Tony and over a number of weeks stole evidence such as gloves that Tony had been wearing, his blood and an impression of his teeth from food he stole from a bin in order to set him up as a murderer."
"Sounds like your security could do with being beefed up, considering you're a Federal law enforcement building, especially post 9/11." Penelope Clearwater observed wryly.
"Indeed." Delores acknowledged, nodding unequivocally. "Having been partially blown up a few years ago, I'd have to agree with your assessment. However, regarding the disgruntled lab technician who was out to frame Tony, luckily, Dr Sciuto was able to find DNA from the carpet fibres he stole from Tony's car and used to set him up. It was quite ironic that her forensic evidence finally cleared him since it was what locked him up in FBI custody, in the first place.
"Tony was locked up?" Hermione blurted out in concern. He had left out that minor detail in the telling of the tale when he'd mentioned it to her while trying to explain why they should let Abby get away with her outrageous behaviour. She imagined how badly Sirius would have dealt with that experience.
"Yes but once Sciuto discovered Sterling's DNA on the carpet fibres and realised he was not who he claimed to be, he was released." She assured them quickly.
"How did he get hired in the first place," Penelope inquired curiously. "Didn't you bother to run a security check on him?"
Delores looked abashed. "Ah well, my predecessor did run a cursory check but when she tried to run more exhaustive investigations the then director deemed it unnecessary and decided to hire him."
As she was entering the double doors of autopsy, the head of HR looked at the visitors over her shoulder. "Despite lapses in the system though, Dr Sciuto, Dr Mallard and the major case response team have had an enviable reputation in DC for solving cases. One might even go so far as to call them the Golden Triumvirate."
Hermione exchanged a speculative glance with Penelope and quickly checked to see if anyone else had found that comment weird but if the three wizards did, they were staying po-faced about it. As the entourage passed across the threshold into autopsy, Hermione resolved that while she desired a private chat with the famed Donald Mallard, she was also intensely curious to have an extended conversation with Delores Bromstead. Her intuition was pinging that this woman's words were not as innocent as she seemed.
Mallard was looking at some X-ray pictures on a lightbox and pointing out some features to his younger colleague, when they trooped in. At least based upon Tony's tales of his colleagues, Hermione figured the diminutive older man dressed in a lab coat must be Dr Mallard. That meant the taller slightly geeky looking younger guy was his protégé, Dr Palmer, who used to be a close friend of Tony's. Even though he was a fully qualified doctor and ME too, it seemed that no one referred to him as Doctor. Dr Mallard who for some reason addressed him as Mr Palmer and Tony, who with his love of nicknames for those people he cared about, called him Autopsy Gremlin.
Mallard looked up and smiled at Delores. "Ah what do we have here, Delores?"
She smiled back, "This is the Honourable Hermione Granger, Minister of Cooperation and members of her staff, her assistant Ms Penelope Clearwater, Press Secretary Mr Dennis Creevey and Protection Agents – Justin Finch Fletchley and Dean Thomas. They're visiting from the UK and the director asked me to give them a tour of NCIS. Minister Granger, this is Dr Mallard, our Chief Medical Examiner and Dr Palmer, who is also a medical examiner."
"You're from the UK - how delightful." Ducky enthused. "It's the place of my birth, you know. Welcome to NCIS, Madame Minister. I believe that must be a modern portfolio – I'm not familiar with the Ministry of Cooperation."
Hermione smiled noncommittally. The position was one that had existed for a couple of centuries but remained an obscure one. She didn't intend to enlighten the good doctor though; she had a more important message to deliver.
"Dr Mallard, a mutual acquaintance in the UK asked me to pass along a message when he heard I was visiting NCIS today - Sir Edward Tippleworth?"
"Oh my goodness; Teddy Tippleworth you say? How is old Tippy doing?"
"He's fine. Although the message is quite personal, so perhaps we could go somewhere private and have a chat?"
Ducky looked surprised. "Certainly. We could go into my office," he replied, leading the way into a small room off the main autopsy area. "Have a seat, Madam Minister."
Hermione shook her head. "Thank-you, but I'll stand." She faced the man who according to Tony, talked to his deceased patients and was obsessed with finding justice for them. Somewhere along the way though, the good doctor crossed the line and became an acolyte in the cult of L.J. Gibbs. Someone with his years of experience in Intelligence really should have called the former Marine on his behaviour instead of becoming an enabler and supporter – even tacitly.
"So… Tippy! We served together, a long time ago, you know."
"Yes Doctor, I do know. I know all about you. Sir Edward wanted me to tell you to 'pull your head out of your nethers… well actually I'm paraphrasing. What he said was a good deal more profane but I try to avoid using obscene language unless absolutely necessary. He wanted me to remind you that even though you've become a naturalised American, it doesn't negate the oath you took to Queen and country, including not breaking the Official Secrets Act.
"Sir Edward said to tell you they are well aware this isn't the first time you've used your contacts to illegally get classified intel. but because before, it was case related - for the greater good - so to speak, they've turned a blind eye to it. But no more. The next time it happens, they'll sling your backside into goal and throw away the key."
She noted the shocked expression on the mature Scotsman's face and went in for the kill. "Your reason for reaching out to former colleagues was petty and personal. Gibbs was told by Tony DiNozzo and Director Vance that the information he so desperate to obtain was classified. He had no right to know, which is why he involved you and a number of others who are going to have to accept that their actions have consequences for all of you. Especially Tony, who, thanks to all of your digging into what didn't concern you, has been placed in danger."
Mallard looked dismayed before collapsing into his chair heavily. He went to reply and Hermione beat him to the punch. "Sir Edward might be willing to give you a warning for old time sake, but I'm not feeling so charitable, Dr Mallard. I've been forced to drop everything and fly over here to deal with you and this dog's breakfast. I'm going to have to leave my most valuable man here in DC to protect my new director, thanks to all you people who should know better. Just because Gibbs couldn't handle being told to mind his own bloody business," she chided him.
"Oh my, I never wanted to place Anthony in danger and I know that Jethro never intended to do so either. He was merely looking out for Anthony's interests – making sure he was going to be working with people who would take good care of him." Ducky protested, steadfast in his defence of Jethro Gibbs.
Hermione just stared at him, wondering who he was trying to fool – her or himself. "If you really believe that balderdash, Doctor, then you should hang up your scalpel and retire to Shady Acres Retirement Home. 'IF' Gibbs cared one iota about Tony, he wouldn't have been such an abusive prat to him over the years – most especially this last one. He made it as plain as could be, in every way he could, that Tony had worn out his welcome and he no longer had a place on the MCRT."
Dr Mallard looked incensed at her accusation but before he could respond she fired a second salvo across his bow.
"There was nothing altruistic about his desire to find out where Tony had secured a job. His true motivation was either because he'd been told it was not his concern and that offended his grandiose opinion of his own importance or he was hoping to sabotage Tony's new job.
Dr Mallard was shaking his head emphatically. "No, you're wrong, with all due respect, Minister Granger. Gibbs has been harsh on Anthony this year because he wants him to grow up and leave the nest. He really cares about Anthony."
Hermione stared at the supposedly brilliant ME and former intelligence operative, wondering if they were living in two alternative realities. "He hates the fact that DiNozzo witnessed him freeze in the field when a terrorist managed to locate his Achilles' Heel. He hates that Tony watched Budd psych him out and then escaped by having a vulnerable, radicalised youth shoot him. Then Tony compounded his heinous crime of seeing Daniel Budd make a fool out of the All-Powerful Oz – oops I mean Gibbs. His protégé upstaged the mentor and robbed Gibbs of the vengeance he's convinced himself he's entitled to over the past couple of decades. To which he's become addicted." Hermione charged cynically.
"No, no – you are very much mistaken, Minister Granger." Mallard protested, his still quite youthful face conveying his distress. "Gibbs has had a life-altering experience and he wants Anthony to be all that he can be. It's called tough love," Ducky insisted.
"Oh please, no one could be that naïve and you're too intelligent to really believe such utter tosh." She scoffed. "Tough love is telling him Tony he's too bloody good to just be his SFA for more than a decade. Tough love is transferring him off the team and forcing him to take a promotion – it's also being an arsehole - but still would be tough love. Tough love would be telling him he needs to leave the team and take a promotion because Gibbs isn't going to retire and pass on the team to him, like they'd planned when he hired him. Like Agent Franks did for him.
"Benching him for no reason or because he was trying to stop Gibbs falling back into bad habits and stop him becoming a co-conspirator to first degree murder- that's not tough love. Telling Tony he benched him because he wasn't looking after the team properly is not tough love – that's abuse and it is patently false. No one is more self-sacrificing when it comes to team mates. He gave up a promotion back in 2006 to look after the team because Gibbs' memory was still suspect when he returned from Mexico. He let the team use him as their punching bag for years, never reported his teammates when they broke protocol and endangered his life when they were supposed to be backing him up. He didn't report David when she assaulted him after he'd been injured and tortured and threatened his life with a loaded gun."
"How do you know this?" Mallard demanded, visibly distraught.
Pacing up and down the small area of the doctor's office because she was justly incensed that Gibbs had the gall to accuse Tony of not caring enough about his team mates. It would be tantamount to someone accusing Gibbs that he'd wished his family dead. It was the worst possible accusation to make of the loyal and self-sacrificing wizard and just plain cruel.
"Because I talked to him, found out why he was so depressed and why someone with his professional record would be so reluctant to take a once in a lifetime job offer because he felt like a failure." Hermione retorted.
"I don't understand. Why wouldn't he talk to me or Jethro – we're his family." The doctor looked wounded.
"Maybe it's not the loving family you think it is. Maybe he knew you wouldn't support him if it came to a choice between him or them. Looks to me that he made the right choice based on the choices you've made over the last few days, Doctor." She responded angrily.
"And for your information, when Tony tried to talk to Gibbs he froze him out. Refused to talk to him, acted passive aggressively when he tried to breech the wall of silence between them. That's not tough love, Doctor. If his real motivation was just wanting Tony to 'leave the nest' - to further his career, how is making him question his abilities as SFA, making him feel like he is incompetent tough love supposed to achieve anything? How is causing him to become depressed and isolating him from his team mates and the job he loves, supposed to encourage him to seize a promotion?"
Dr Mallard looked deflated and old but Hermione was unrepentant. The truth hurt but that wasn't a reason to try to sugar coat it. Not this time.
"This was never about altruism and encouraging him to engage in career advancement. If that was the case, Gibbs would have thrown him out of 'the nest' a good six or seven years ago when he first started sacrificing his prospects because he was too loyal to leave the team." Hermione stated baldly. "This was all about punishing him for being able to achieve what Gibbs couldn't do with the terrorist Daniel Budd and save the boy that Gibbs couldn't – and lead the team successfully when he was injured.
"This was all about the fact that Gibbs physical abilities are failing as he gets older, he's slowing down. Plus all the demons he's held back for the last few decades with inadequate sleep, a river of coffee and enough bad bourbon to sink a ship aren't working anymore. Fact is it's too hard for him to admit that to himself. One wonders who he'll blame now his resident punching bag for the past fifteen years won't be around anymore."
Ducky opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione had pre-empted every argument he might have used. Finally, he offered, "Jethro has had a difficult life… Endured much sorrow."
"Oh for Pete's sake, Doctor. Do not use that tired old excuse on me, it won't wash." She exploded, feeling furious that he dared to play that card. "So he lost his wife and daughter - big whoopty-do. So have plenty of people who've mourned their losses, done their grief work and found the strength and courage to move on with their lives instead of wallowing in self-indulgent pity parties for more than a quarter century. I'm a widow, I've lost more family and close friends fighting terrorists than I can count," she admitted candidly before waving away the doctor's expression of condolence.
"What I didn't do was use their deaths to treat other people like dirt or break rules in order to get my own way. I used their deaths to try to create a better place, tried to become a better person to justify surviving when they didn't."
"Perhaps you're right that Jethro has used his loss as a crutch," Ducky admitted extremely reluctantly. "But this year has been most traumatic for him. He came extremely close to dying…"
Again Hermione interrupted. "First off, if we are being technically accurate about it, this wasn't the first time he's come close to dying. I understand he was clinically dead when he managed to drown himself and a civilian some years ago when he drove a vehicle off a pier to try to escape two thugs with guns. And point two, Gibbs returned to work following this brush with death without being psychologically or physically cleared for field work, so that's on him for not getting help. And you and Director Vance failed to stop him and then permitted him to run around running a major crime response team which he was ill equipped to lead. His treatment of Tony, who did nothing more than do his duty and do it with honour and excellence is testament to his psychological unfitness to lead.
Hermione suddenly sighed knowing that cognitive dissonance made it unlikely that any of the NCIS crew would be prepared to question long held points of view, even patently false ones – despite how much evidence she presented to them to support her arguments.
Figuratively throwing her hands in the air, she gave up. "Fine, I should know better than expect you to listen to reason. You can't admit that Gibbs isn't the Saint you've all made him out to be. That would force you to examine your own behaviour and deal with the reality that you support a bullying hypocrite. I'm done - just know Doctor if you or anyone tries to find out about Tony's job I'll personally make sure you live to regret it."
Hermione skewered him with a look that had reduced many a wizard or witch to jelly when she'd been a Hogwarts prefect – hands on her hips, feet akimbo and a sneer that would shame both Malfoys and Severus Snape.
"And if anything happens to him because you or one of the other NCIS numpties decided to meddle in classified intelligence, I'll personally throw you in gaol for the rest of your life. Trust me, I know a super classified one which will make Guantanamo Bay look like a Caribbean resort in comparison." she promised, trying hard not to hex him or destroy the office.
She comforted herself by imagining these idiots being incarcerated in Azkaban, even without having to endure Dementors to torture them for years. She also speculated if they could endure it with half the grace that Sirius exhibited during his unlawful incarceration.
Stalking out of the office, the minister joined her team, fuming at the elderly ME who was supposed to be a highly intelligent individual and yet, he had for years been complicit it allowing Gibbs, an unstable individual with the emotional maturity of a toddler to essentially run the agency. Luckily she had a lot more self-control than when she saw red and punched Draco Malfoy in the nose as a hot headed third year schoolgirl. Still it didn't mean she didn't have fantasies of punching Gibbs or Mallard, or McGee or Vance or… well the whole bloody box and dice.
However, Hermione shouldn't have been surprised that the ME had chosen to support Gibbs so staunchly. There was ample evidence of Mallard's gross failure to act professionally in his support of Gibbs repeatedly hitting Tony on the back of the head. As a doctor of longstanding years of practice, not to mention being a medical examiner who got to dissect brains on a regular basis, he was most definitely aware of the dangers of repeated blows to the head. He was aware of the likelihood of experiencing dementia, brain damage and movement disorders such as Parkinson-like syndromes. There was plenty of irrefutable evidence and that it generally took several decades after the insults occurred before those symptoms manifest. Merlin knows, even lowly medical students knew the danger of continual insults upon the head thanks to boxers an athletes who played contact sport such as gridiron - and they wore helmets.
Even if there'd only been even the flimsiest of causal links, the horrors wrought on the individual by those disorders were so horrific that it should have been enough for the doctor to remonstrate and report Gibbs for it. After all, it was technically an assault and against departmental rules and regulations – and yet he did nothing. So much for the Hippocratic oath he'd sworn – first do no harm!
Delores must have noticed that when Hermione had joined them she was clearly unhappy, because the older female cut Jimmy short in his telling of stories about various bizarre cases they worked on over the years. Hustling them all out of Autopsy, the department head continued to shoot glances at the minister trying to gauge her mood. After stopping off at the Human Resources Department to pick up Tony's personnel file - which was entrusted to Penelope for safekeeping, they were headed toward the forensic lab.
Just before they entered the lab Delores dropped another bombshell while she was promising Hermione she'd keep an eye on Tony and his protector in case he needed anything during his extended stay in DC.
"Of course, since Agent Potter has been handpicked, dare I say the one chosen to watch Tony's back, that he's probably highly capable of taking care of himself. But still, it doesn't hurt to know that help is on hand should he ever need anything - even if it's a home cooked meal. Tony's very taken by my meatballs and its always an honour to help our cousins from across the pond."
Hermione looked at the older woman, trying to figure out who was she was. Deciding that enough was enough, Hermione stated firmly, "I'd really like to see that conference room you spoke of, Delores."
~o0o~
Hermione watched Abby Sciuto through the two-way mirror as she interacted with the staff. She'd been intently watching her interactions with others on the ward during their group therapy session too, looking for any tells to give her a clue about whether she was faking or not. The minister had talked to people at NCIS who knew her: Delores, Special Agent Balboa, Dr Palmer, Tobias and Tony. Delores had, after Director Vance given approval, obtained a copy of Abby's psych evaluations plus, transcripts of her giving evidence on some cases for her to analyse. Basically, over the last 36 hours Hermione had studied her, trying to learn as much as possible in the limited time she had, in preparation to finally talking to her.
One thing she wouldn't do would be to underestimate Dr Abigail Sciuto. The woman had an intelligence quotient of 145 and although Hermione had a higher IQ, intellectually, Abby was no pushover. The woman had completed a doctorate in forensic science and was respected by her peers for the work she did at NCIS. It would be stupid to underrate her, despite the fact that she seemed to have the emotional quotient of a toddler with the associated absence of maturity markers such as inability to delay gratification and her childlike egocentric belief that she was always right.
Yet for all her acting like a spoilt child, she still managed to function normally in the real world when she was working as a volunteer for Habitat for Humanity and she hung out with nuns – doing good works and tenpin bowling. Hermione was certain neither group of individuals would tolerate her being selfish, violent and a brat for want of better descriptor.
This suggested to Hermione that Abby was less likely to have one of a number of personality disorders, which for example would explain her overdependence on Gibbs and her belief that he had seemingly magical powers. But since she apparently managed to hold everything together adequately enough to do her job while he was off work for four months after his near death shooting last year, that made that theory far less credible.
The fact was that her over-the-top quirkiness suddenly became problematic at NCIS, especially when Gibbs was around but she was able to conform to norms of socialised behaviour in other settings. Personality disorders don't come and go in different settings, so Sciuto's outlandish antics were more than likely a result of learnt behaviour. Tony had admitted as much – that the guys had indulged and cosseted Abby because she was Gibbs favourite and they were modelling his behaviour. She had taken advantage of the situation because she was manipulative by nature… well by nurture too.
The pensive witch thought back to what Tobias had found when he'd searched her apartment. It seemed that Dr Sciuto had quite the fascination with criminals faking mental illness to escape punishment, including David Berkowitz aka Son of Sam. He'd claimed to have received orders from a demon-possessed Labrador Retriever ordering him to kill six people over a three-year period. Later he'd admitted this had been a ruse to escape prosecution.
Abby also seemed intrigued by the notorious case of Vincent Gigante. He was a Mafia boss who, for decades, wandered around Greenwich Village wearing his pyjamas. He also had conversations with parking meters, drooling and mumbling to show mental incompetence. When facing racketeering and conspiracy to murder charges, he managed to successfully delay standing trial for years, fooling a number of experts.
Even after going to jail, he continued maintaining the ruse of mental insanity for another six years, and not until plea-bargaining when facing even more serious charges did he finally admit that it had been a massive hoax. Hermione knew that Gigante was considered by many in the field of forensic psychology as the most brilliant malingerer ever. Certainly he was the most infamous psychological malingerer, so it wasn't that unusual that Abby had biographies about him or Berkowitz. Not when taking in isolation – interest in criminology was not a crime or suspicious of itself.
Fornell also found a copy of Ken Kesey's classic, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and the Oscar award winning movie of the same name in Abby's apartment. While both the book and the film were classics of their time, paired with her fascination with criminal malingerers, it added weight to the possibility she was faking symptoms to get out of being held responsible for her rash behaviour. She certainly had the know-how and the smarts.
The FBI… okay Fornell had, in light of the discovery, demanded that a forensic psychiatrist examine her, one who had training in diagnosing criminal malingering. Which for a simple assault case, no doubt seemed to be a definite case of overkill in most people's opinion, but Fornell was extremely irate with the Goth and the situation. Basically he really wanted her in jail but that was looking increasingly unlikely.
So Hermione watched intently as the forensic psychiatrist Dr Jonas Leyton conducted a Structured Interview of Reported Symptoms (SIRS). The SIRS having been extensively tested in inpatient, forensic, and correctional populations and was believed to be highly accurate in detecting malingering psychiatric illness. Leyton suggested that Hermione could if she wished, administer two scales from the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory, Revised (MMPI-2) which were the most frequently used tests for evaluating suspected malingering - the F-scale and F-K Index. For a highly intelligent individual however, it was not impossible to beat it – hence they'd decided to use the SIRS as well. She'd ended up declining his offer, preferring to take a less adversarial role, wanting to build a rapport.
Rereading the notes she'd been making on Abby- looking for any weak spots in her defences - Hermione's eyes' skimmed the bullet points she'd created: adopted, adoptive parents deaf – adoptive parents loving and nurturing. She couldn't help but compare and contrast this with someone else she'd encountered on this trip.
~o0o~
Flashback:
Once they were sitting down in the appalling decorated conference room, Hermione drilled Delores with her special Hermione/Super Mum/Minister-of-Magic don't-mess-with-me look. "Right, I want to know who you are and what you know about us."
Delores started to speak while Hermione's team looked confused about what had sparked her ire so she interjected, clarifying so there could be no claim to not understanding what she meant.
"A magical mystery tour…a golden triumvirate aka trio...Agent Potter the one chosen? Each on their own a harmless enough turn of phrase but all three together… a very huge coincidence and I stopped believing in harmless coincidence when it came to my friends a very long time ago."
Suddenly Penelope, Dennis, Dean and Justin directed laser like glares at Delores too, as she tittered somewhat nervously, her hands fidgeting with a stray pen that had been left by the previous users of the room. "I was hoping you'd pick up on those crumbs I dropped, Minister Granger – or to be more accurate, I understand most people refer to you by your married name - Weasley. I can't believe that both you and Harry Potter are here at NCIS – two-thirds of the Golden Trio – it is such an honour to meet you."
Penelope asked somewhat bluntly, "So you're a witch?"
A look of angst crossed the older woman's rather plain features. "Alas no…not a witch. I'm a squib." She replied, dropping her head; the feelings of shame pouring off her in waves.
Everyone looked at Hermione, confused by the woman's reaction. She had encountered reactions like Delores before – just not quite as explicit as hers and she wondered what her story was. Pointing slowly to her team and her friends, Hermione stated, "All of us are from non-magical backgrounds…"
"You're all muggle-borns? I knew you were, of course, Minister, but your staff too? I'm surprised the purebloods stood for it." Delores interjected nervously before clapping her hand over her mouth in dismay.
Hermione wasn't sure if it was because she interrupted her or because of her blunt, yet accurate criticism of many purebloods. "Shrugging, she nodded. "Some days I have to pinch myself too, Delores. But the bigotry is somewhat less strident these days. Thanks in part to the losses that they suffered during the second war with Voldemort – they simply don't have the numbers they used to.
"Many whole families were wiped out of existence. Plus, the huge embarrassment that their precious dark lord that espoused pureblood rhetoric turned out to be a pathetic half-blood wizard. Can anyone say awkward? And it took Harry, another half-blood to defeat him."
Smiling tentatively, Delores observed, "Plus the support of his two best friends, "a muggle and a pureblood."
Hermione nodded, "True and a half giant and his Giant half-brother, a brave and loyal house elf named Dobbie, a werewolf, centaurs and a bunch of other muggle borns, half-bloods and purebloods all working together. We all played a part," Hermione gestured to her team and smiled.
"Things change, Delores. Slowly, but they are changing. But I'm still surprised that you know who I am, after all most American Squibs would probably recognise Harry and me from the war…maybe but you clearly know about my appointment as Minister of Magic too. That's speaks of a familiarity with current affairs in the UK."
The head of HR acknowledged Hermione's statement. "True but I was born in England. My family was an old pureblood family. Poor as church mice but insanely proud of their blood status – probably because it was all they possessed."
Hermione wasn't surprised. The United Kingdom overall was still highly class conscious, so it wasn't so surprising that the magical population should be too. Although they had definitely taken it to a whole other level which was akin to fascism.
"So how did you come to live in America? Did your parents emigrate to the United States to escape Voldermort?" Dean asked curiously
Although Delores' eyes filled with bitter tears she struggled mightily not to cry, blinking repeatedly. "No, I was the first squib born to my family for five generations. I was a huge embarrassment to the family name. So when I was nine and it became clear what I was, they sent me to live in the US with my mother's side of the family. Almost forty percent of the babies born into the Bromstead line were squibs, you see. They told me it was for my own good when they sent me away; that I'd fit in and not feel like a freak, living with my cousins."
"And did you?" Dennis asked empathetically. All of them were moved by Delores' experience.
"Not so you'd notice. All the Bromsteads looked at me as if I had two heads – they adopted me since I was family but since my parents had no other offspring, they all figured that there must have been some other reason why they dumped their only child on the American relatives. None of them shipped their squib kids off like rejects, so they reckoned I had to be seriously flawed for them to not be able to stand to be in the same country as them." Delores hung her head and Hermione noted several tears splash onto her lap.
Hermione felt overwhelming sadness for Delores. Her team and herself had all suffered from prejudice since they'd entered the magical world but it never came from their own families. That must have been such a betrayal for the nine-year-old little girl. The disappointment of not being the child – the witch that her parents desperately craved would have been difficult enough to come to terms with but to be sent away, to strangers a world away because you weren't good enough, were an embarrassment was horrifying. How damaging was that to the young psyche of nine-year-old Delores?
Then to find yourself being judged as unworthy, as flawed by your relatives because they couldn't understand the blood snobbery of the pure blood wizards and witches in the UK. Talk about victim blaming. No wonder Delores had such a jaundiced view of life.
Thinking about the talks she and Tony had had about the changes they wanted to make, the differences they hoped to achieve in their new positions of power, Hermione couldn't help thinking that the whole muggle/ first generation distinction was much more relevant than she'd given credence to. After all, first gens and squibs had much in common when she stopped to think about it. Both sub-populations ended up being estranged from their biological families – usually not to the extent of Delores perhaps but still, they were isolated. Muggle kids were separated from their family's for ten months a year from the age of eleven. Then for the next seven years they were indoctrinated, not so subtly that that muggles were quaint, inferior creatures.
The unspoken subtext was that in order for muggle students to fit in that they needed to eschew their muggle ways and that of course included their families. While Wizarding families were subtly shamed for producing squib offspring – like it was something they had consciously chosen. Those children didn't get to attend a magical schoo,l even though there was nothing stopping them becoming highly skilled potion makers, apothecaries, historians, journalists or herbalists, even without magic. The more she thought about it, the more she could see that Tony's plan to employ them in the DMLE had a great deal more merit than she'd initially given it credit.
When he'd explained how in police department, certain tasks were relegated to civilians, such as dispatchers and emergency operators communicating with the public on emergency phone lines, even intelligence analysts, she hadn't seen where he was going with it. After all, she knew some of what he was telling her, just never really thought about the significance of it as it related to the magical world, but Tony had. He wanted to bring in squibs to do some of the work of the DMLE that didn't require magic but still was important to the functioning of the department.
In Tony's ideal world, Hermione could envision squibs, formerly tossed aside and devalued by the magical world, who'd been isolated and made to feel like not even second class citizen of their society, suddenly made to feel like valued.
"So that's how you knew about us, but how did you know about our visit to NCIS?" Hermione asked, deliberately avoiding any comments about her childhood. She instinctively felt that Delores would see it as pity after dealing with Harry and Sirius among others whose childhood's had been neglectful and abusive.
"Well it seems as if worthless squibs sometimes have their uses. My father contacted me a week ago. He works at the ministry and he heard the scuttlebutt about the new Head of the DMLE being an American and working in muggle law enforcement, which he simply couldn't understand. 'Why would any self- respecting wizard choose to work in the muggle world?'
"He knew I worked with muggle cops so he asked if I'd heard anything. First time I've had contact with him in 20 years," she finished, bitterly.
Penelope looked around at her peers, confused. "What is scuttlebutt – it sounds contagious…and painful like nappy-rash." She said seriously, although Hermione being a wordsmith hid a knowing smirk, and Delores who smiled tolerantly at her.
"Scuttlebutt is sailor's slang for rumour or gossip." She explained. "Plus when you hear people say they have to hit the head they really mean that they have to go to the bathroom. Hit the rack means go to bed – there are others but those are the most common around here."
"So did you tell your father about DiNozzo?" Justin enquired curiously.
"Certainly not!" She retorted indignantly giving him a reproving look. "As head of NCIS' HR department I signed a confidentially clause. Besides, Tony is my friend. I would never betray that trust."
The hesitant expression when Delores mentioned Tony's friendship reminded Hermione of a little girl many years ago who had mended a young boy's glasses with a spell, thrilled that she'd made a friend on the Hogwarts Express. Only to discover later on that the dishevelled muggle boy was in fact the famed Harry Potter - from an old and highly esteemed wizarding family and 'The Chosen One' who'd defeated Voldermort when he was a baby. In effect, he was the closest thing to a celebrity the magical world had and the plain little girl with bushy hair and big buck teeth, who'd never had a friend because she was too smart for her own good and way too bossy, despaired. She knew that Harry Potter didn't need her friendship – Ron Weasley had already become his best friend and she was sure everyone would be falling over themselves to become his friend, too.
Fortunately, she knew that Tony, just like Harry was caring and loyal. "If you're worried that Tony won't want to be your friend when he finds out you're a squib, Delores, think again. He's not like that."
She could hardly tell her that as an eleven-year-old boy he defied his entire family – a highly intimidating and insanely blood supremacist family who had sided with Voldermort to become a blood-traitor. He befriended a werewolf, and Harry's mother Lily – a muggle and was disowned by his family. No wonder Sirius was so comfortable stepping into DiNozzo's shoes – they were cut from the same cloth. Suddenly, she had an idea what she could tell Delores to reassure her without revealing things about Tony that would endanger his real identity.
Tony's already been on my case about hiring people based on their ability to perform the job. If the job doesn't require magical ability, then he thinks that squids should receive equal consideration. We've talked about bringing in squibs at the DMLE to do clerical work and other tasks that don't require magical skills to free up aurors for more hands-on-duties."
She noted that Justin and Dean, who were ineligible to become aurors because they hadn't gained NEWTS in Potions, pricked up their ears with interest. She knew that they both had wanted to join the auror training program after the war ended. Unfortunately,Severus Snape had been a lousy teacher, favouring students from his own house, and frequently victimised the other three houses. As a consequence, their grades, like too many others in Potions, weren't considered to be good enough to study advanced potions in 6th and 7th year. Snape's appalling treatment of all but his favourite students (almost exclusively snakes) had resulted in most fifth year students, even if they managed to fluke a sufficiently high grade after five years of his tutelage, dropping potions to get away from him.
Of course, sixteen year olds were not always well situated to make decisions that could affect their future career and life choices - potentially for the next hundred years. Dropping potions to avoid having to deal with the greasy haired, sallow complected potions professor at any cost was something some former students came to bitterly regret in a few short years after graduation. Just as Justin and Dean had discovered when the threat of dying was no longer an impediment to deciding their future. Still it wasn't always easy to make good choices at that age – especially for males who despite being wizards, were still biologically slower to mature than female witches.
Not to mention there were all those students that had failed to thrive under his didactic regime of ridicule, sarcasm and lack of exposition. How many of them may have succeeded in the subject if they had received adequate instruction from a skilled teacher who was passionate about their teaching instead of a teacher who couldn't stomach students but was a passionate and skilled potions master. Hermione recalled an analogous situation at university where TPTB decided that the post grad psych students would benefit from having a practising child and adolescent psychologist lecture in developmental psychology. Her idea of teaching had been to read out the relevant set chapter each week from their required text.
That was why Hermione thought the oft quoted idiom 'those that can, do and those that can't, teach' was ridiculous. True teaching was an art form. A good teacher could inspire and turn lives around, motivating even an average student to love learning and strive to exceed their abilities. Sticking a potion recipe on a black board and telling students to follow it, or reading a chapter out of a set text in lieu of preparing a real lesson didn't qualify as teaching in her book.
Anyway, the subsequent drop in the calibre of candidates in not only the auror ranks but the healing profession had been felt quite sorely over the last few decades as a direct result of Professor Snape's tenure as potions professor at Hogwarts. For the greater good, according to Dumbledore.
While the students after the war were taught by a much more competent potions mistress and the standard of new recruits was again beginning to rise accordingly, there was something to be said for also having more mature, skilled aurors and healers to call upon too. Life experiences couldn't be replicated by the younger less seasoned professionals, no matter how well trained and earnest they were.
"Tony and I are also in discussion about allowing mature aged wizards and witches to go back and do an accelerated course in advanced potions so that candidates can sit for their NEWTS. Then they'll be eligible to be considered for admittance to healer and auror training," she revealed to her protection detail, noting several very interested expressions. While mature aged students going back to get the qualifications they needed was common place for non-magical people, it wasn't in their world – at least not in the UK.
Penelope chuckled. "Oh, wow! Tony is determined to shake things up, isn't he? Mature aged students, squibs doing administrative work that have always been considered the domain of the dim-witted but well connected purebloods. They'll go postal!"
Hermione nodded wryly. "That they will, so let's keep this to ourselves for now."
~o0o~
Hermione smiled as she recalled Delores excitement at being included in their conversation about a couple of the significant changes that they hoped to bring to their society over the next few years. She'd even made some really useful suggestions about how to implement them, which wasn't surprising since it was her professional forte after all.
Plus, the squib had really touched something in the Minister for Magic – something profound. At that point she realised that with the exception of a very passing acquaintanceship with Arabella Figg and the disgusting Argus Filch, she'd never really gotten to know a squib properly. Something she vowed to resolve as soon as she could.
Delores had really opened up her eyes to the injustices of being born a squib – she'd been focused on other subpopulations, especially of the nonhuman variety. She hoped that she would become her friend as well as Tony's, who as Hermione had predicted, hadn't shrunk from her in horror despite his pure-blood roots. She recalled the tapestry of the Black family tree at No. 12 Grimmuald Place that had a squib relative magically blasted off the tree, along with Sirius and his favourite older cousin, Andromeda Tonks nee Black.
Even the Weasleys, who were as far from pure blood supremacists as you could get, who'd embraced Hermione's muggle status and welcomed her into the family, had been mildly uncomfortable about having to admit to having a squib relative. The one who'd had become a 'muggle accountant and ultimately was related to Emily Fornell. How could she not be favourably disposed to squids after the Weasley's relative had indirectly lead her to finding Sirius again.
She considered how Abby, though adopted had been a much wanted addition to the Sciuto family, in contrast to Delores who'd been taken in because of familial obligations. Even if Abby had spent a lot of her childhood rather isolated as a child of deaf parents, she still had experienced all the unconditional love that every child deserved, unlike Delores, Sirius Black or Anthony DiNozzo. And then it hit her – how to apply pressure and crack her tough shell.
She was however going to need to hit the books, as if that had ever been a hardship for Hermione Granger – self-confessed bibliophile.