Chapter 2: The Questioning.
I'm not happy with this chapter, but there really isn't much you can do with questions.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.
Hphphp
It was about that time that they brought Hermione Granger in. She didn't look worse for wear, but extremely put out that she was brought back to the crime scene. She had been studying when they came and got her and wasn't happy to be dragged from that. She had lost enough time from that, this year. All due to the woman whose body was now being pushed past her.
Ducky was taking the body out as she was being brought in. Amelia Bones was going with him and looked happy to be seeing the end of the room. There was a great deal of tension in the room, and she was glad she didn't have to deal with Dumbledore and Gibbs. Those two were going to butt heads all the way during this investigation.
Hermione stood to the side and let them pass. Her face was a blank mask. She knew what she had done, and she wasn't going to let it show on her face to the man who looked like he didn't miss anything.
"I protest. I've already been questioned," she stated as she was brought into the room.
"I have more questions for you," said Gibbs, looking at the blank face and wondering why she was upset. Did she have something to hide? "I assume you're Hermione Granger?" he waved for her to come and stand by him.
"I've already answered for Madame Bones. Who are you?" she asked, coming to him and folding her arms over her breasts and tapping her arms. She spared Harry a glance and softened her stance a bit. Everything she did, she did for him. She knew he'd somehow be put in the middle of this.
"My name is Special Agent Gibbs. I'm with WCIS And I have some more questions for you," the head of the WCIS stated, writing his observations in his notepad.
"I'm sorry, Special Agent Gibbs, it's been a very trying day for me. It's not often that you see a dead body. What can I do for you?" she said, slumping down a bit and relaxing against the wall. She closed her eyes as if she didn't want to see the murder scene anymore and it had been the trying day, she claimed it had been.
"Where were you when you heard the gunshot?" he asked, looking to see if there were any signs of guilt on her face. There was only weariness.
"I was three halls down and I heard what sounded to me like a gunshot. I came running down the hall and I saw Professor Umbridge on the floor, dead," Hermione explained, still with her eyes closed, and head back.
"You heard the gunshot from three halls down?" Gibbs asked, writing it down, but with a puckered brow.
"This castle carries noise very well," the teenage girl stated, raising her head and staring at him with a lifted eyebrow.
"OK, granted. How did you know it was a gunshot?" was his next question.
"Well, I wasn't sure at first, but I have heard the noise on the telly, and I've been taken to the gun range by my father," she explained with a shrug of her shoulder. They went once a month to do some shooting. It was their bonding moments. That was before she went to Hogwarts, now it was only during the summer, and only if they were in the country. Or if she were at home, which was becoming less and less as the years went by.
"Your father shoots guns? I thought they were illegal here in the UK," Gibbs said, once more writing that down.
"He's a skeet shooter." She narrowed her eyes at him at the implication that her father did anything illegal.
"OK. So, you came in here and you saw the dead body. Why didn't you go to the headmaster? Why did you go directly to the DMLE?" he asked, that part had been bugging him.
"I've always been taught to go straight to the police when you find a dead body," she stated, not looking at the man she was starting not to trust with Harry.
"OK, I'll give you that. Did you touch anything when you found the body? Did you find the gun?" he asked, wondering where the gun had gone. Did the girl do anything with it?
"Oh no, sir. We learned on the telly never touch anything when you find a body. I didn't see the gun anywhere," she said, her forehead scrunched in confusion. That much was true, she didn't touch anything with her hands. There was no gun here when she got here. The room looked much like it did now, but for the body being here.
"Thank goodness for mass media, hey boss?" said DiNozzo, who was a movie enthusiast. If there was anything to be gleaned from movies, Tony knew about it. He would be happy to tell you in great detail about it too.
"Shut it, DiNozzo, and get back to your job," Gibbs said, glaring at his subordinate. He would have smacked the man about the head, if he had been closer.
"You got it, boss," Tony grumbled, though he knew he was correct.
"What did you do after you called Madame Bones?" the older man asked, turning back to the Granger girl. She was hiding something, but he didn't know what. So far, everything she said rang as the truth. He had a good bullshit detector and his was ringing true.
"I waited for her to show up," Hermione said, tilting her head as if confused by the question.
"And you didn't see or hear anything else before or after you called her?"
"No, sir. The classroom was empty when I got here, and nobody came after I called her." Hermione was getting frustrated about being questioned and it was starting to show. She started tapping her foot and was off the wall with her arms folded over her chest again.
"Very well, you may go, but I don't want you to leave the castle or talk with this to anybody," Gibbs said, flipping his notepad closed, and nodding in her direction. He didn't trust her completely. She had done something, but he wasn't sure what. "Wait, DiNozzo, come here and take a swipe of her hand."
"Not without my parents' permission you won't," Hermione stated, putting her hand behind her back.
"All I want to do is confirm that you didn't fire a gun," Gibbs stated, waving Tony over. "It'll go a lot easier if you agree now. I don't need your parents' permission for this," he added, thanking Merlin for that little law.
"Fine," Hermione stated, holding out her hand.
Tony made a swipe with his wand and found nothing. It was a simple spell; all it did was look for gun powder. It was invented by a law enforcement officer in the USA during the last decade. It saved a lot of time and expense.
"Do one on the Potter boy too," Gibbs ordered, knowing both had had time to get rid of the evidence. There were magical ways to clean the hands, if you knew how. He didn't think these kids would know them; they were both muggle-raised.
The Potter kid came up negative as well.
"Why is Harry here?" Hermione asked, almost defiantly, glaring at Dumbledore, who was supposed to be protecting the other teen. She had lost a lot of faith in the old man this year. He had let that woman abuse the students and interfere with her education. That was unacceptable in her books. She had gone to him on many occasions and all he did was pat her on the hand and tell her it was for the Greater Good and that there was nothing he could do about it. Sod him.
"That isn't your concern, young lady," Gibbs stated, knowing this was going to be a fight. He could see the stubborn turn of her stance.
"But Harry couldn't possibly be a suspect," she stated in an almost whining voice.
"Why would you say that?" the Special Agent asked, pulling out his notepad again. He wanted to get that in his notes.
"Because he's such an honest and sweet boy. He wouldn't hurt a fly," Hermione said, looking at Harry with such adorning eyes. He was her best friend, and she would stand by his side no matter what.
"And you base this on?"
"He has been my friend ever since first year," she declared, moving to go to her friend only to be blocked by Gibbs.
"Well, I'm glad to see that you're sticking up for your friend. Unfortunately, he is a person of interest, and I must take him in for questioning. You run along now," the older man stated, making a shooing motion with his hands. He was done with her for now and wanted to get on with this night and get out of this castle.
"I'm telling you, you have the wrong boy," the bushy-haired girl said, stamping her foot and raising her voice, causing Harry to look her way and beam at her.
"I just can't take your word for it. I have to question him. I'm going to have to ask you to move along now," Gibbs stated, not wanting to put his hands on her. That way laid lawsuits. He nodded to Todd, who had just come back in, to come and escort the girl out the door.
"I see. May I speak with him?" Granger asked, moving once more to go around the stubborn cop.
"No, you may move along now," Gibbs said once again, glad he had a female agent to handle the girls in the castle.
"Come along, Miss Granger," Todd said, taking her elbow.
"Fine. But I'll be speaking to my father about getting him a solicitor," Hermione said, turning to storm out of the room.
"That may be for the best, at any rate," Jethro grumbled.
"Shouldn't you be speaking to his guardian before you question him?" Hermione stated as she paused in the doorway. Todd took her away before she got her answer.
"I know how to do my job, young lady," Gibbs grumbled to himself, and turned around and went about doing his job. He went back to Harry Potter and asked him for his information so that he could contact his guardian.
"You don't want to talk to them. They don't like me anyway," Harry groused, slumping against the wall. "There's no love lost between me and the Dursleys." He could just picture that confrontation. Vernon would lose his shite. And then throw him under the bus, just like the headmaster had done earlier. He was still pissed about that.
"Nevertheless, we do need to speak to them," Gibbs stated, pen poised to take down the information.
"They're just going to tell you to leave them alone. They don't like magicals. I'd make sure whoever you send knows that," Harry warned, but he gave him the address and told him once again what to expect.
"I'll take that risk." He waved over an Auror and handed him the information to go get Petunia Dursley, making sure to warn him about what Harry said. "Make sure you take more than one person. They sound like they're going to be an issue," he added, looking at the sincere look on the boy's face. "Have them meet us at Headquarters. I don't want them here. I should be there in an hour."
"She's not going to like it," said Harry in a warning fashion.
"She'll live," Gibbs said, quite used to dealing with unruly people.
"Boss, I'm gonna go take this to Abby. I'm not sure what it is, but it reeks of dark magic," DiNozzo said, holding up the Black Quill. It was in an evidence bag, and it did radiate a dark aura. There was some blood on the tip of it. They'd have to get that analyzed. It might be the clue they needed to catch the culprit.
Harry's nose scrunched up and he clutched his hand to his chest. He did a full body shudder and backed away from the object of his torture.
"Mr. Potter, do you know what this is?" asked Gibbs, showing him the dark quill. He didn't like the feeling of it either.
"Yeah, it's a quill that makes you write in your own blood. Umbridge made us use it for detention," the teen said still backing away from it. He finally ran out of room and was against the wall.
"Do you know where it came from?" was the next question. He'd never heard of a quill that did that.
"No, sir."
"Is that what happened to your hand?" Gibbs asked, gesturing to the bandaged hand. He had noted earlier but had thought nothing of it. Kids got hurt all the time.
"Yes, sir," Harry said with a sigh, hoping he hadn't just signed his death warrant. This put him higher on the list, he was sure of it.
"Are you angry about it?" Gibbs asked, gently.
"Wouldn't you be?" Harry answered hotly.
"I think that's enough questions for now," Jethro said, then turned to Tony. "Bag it, tag it and send it to Abby." He wanted that thing analyzed immediately.
"You got it, boss," said DiNozzo all but running from the room. He'd stop on the way and get Abby a CafPow. They didn't have many places here in the UK that had them, but there were a few spots where he could grab one. Abby worked better when she had her caffeine, and she loved her soft drinks. The CafPow was her favorite.
"Dumbledore, I need you to get me a room set up so that I can question some of your students," Gibbs stated, moving to leave the room. They were done in here. There was no one left to process the scene, and it was scrubbed clean. That wouldn't help the investigation. He noted everything in his book and nodded to Todd, who had come back. She left the room and waited outside the doors.
"You may use the antechamber off the side of the Great Hall. We are about to have dinner anyway. I am sure you would like to address the students," the headmaster said, waving his hand and showing the way to the Great Hall. He was sure that he could steer the man into his way of thinking, if only he could talk to him.
They left the scene, Gibbs closed and locked the door with a ward, so only he and his team could get in there. They started walking down the hall.
"That might be pertinent. Do you have the name of the students that were around this area during the time of the murder?" he asked as they walked.
"Alas, I have not come up with any of the names but for a few," the old man stated. He hadn't tried that hard, but he did put in a minimal effort. That way he could say that he cooperated.
Todd handed her notes to Gibbs as she stayed near Harry. He took them and added them to his own with his wand.
"That's better than none. I also need the names of the teachers that were in the area too," Gibbs said as he read Kate's notes. There weren't many witnesses. The portraits didn't see much. They only saw a few teens and teachers. They heard the pop, and didn't think anything of it. It seemed only the Granger girl thought it was a gunshot. Peculiar.
"There were only a few teachers in this area," Dumbledore was saying as they came to the Great Hall. He started to move to his throne, but Gibbs stopped him with his next words.
"Give me their names."
"Severus Snape, Sybil Trelawney, and Minerva McGonagall," the headmaster said, reluctantly like he was talking through his beard to get the words out.
"Thank you. Now let's get this show on the road," the Special Agent said, going into the Hall. Harry stopped him a moment before he would have marched to the front.
"Can I go now?" asked Harry, wanting to go to his friends. He had been with the cops for a while now and all he wanted to do was go spend time with those that didn't think him capable of murder. He was sure at least Hermione and Ron would back him.
"No, you're sticking with me," Gibbs said, laying his hand on the boy's arm. He stood there looking at the student body getting ready for the evening meal. He could tell they were talking about the murder. They were leaning over and talking to one another. Some were laughing and others were jeering. It was as if the woman who had died had no sympathy. There were a few that looked leery, like they would be killed at any moment. There were always those that thought they were next, no matter if they were connected to the person murdered or not.
"Why? I didn't do anything," Harry said, tugging his arm free, and moving back a bit. He was getting tired of being accused of wrongdoing. It seemed to happen every year, and he was sick of it.
"Until we can clear your name, I don't want you anywhere out of my sight," the older man stated, once more putting his hand on his arm and guiding him forward.
"Fine."
"Do you want to sit in a cell?" was the cutting answer.
"No, I guess not."
"Come on then, let's go." With that, the two of them went into the Great Hall, where Gibbs had him sit down at the end of the Gryffindor table, away from his friends, while he addressed the rest of the student body.
Everybody had assembled for dinner. Rumors were rampant that Umbridge was dead, but Gibbs decided he was going to let everybody know as he stood at the front of the Teachers' table.
"May I have your attention please?" the head of the WCIS said, holding up his hands. "I'm sure most of you have heard by now, but one of your teachers has been killed." He had to pause there for a moment while gasps were heard as if they hadn't just been talking about it. "One Dolores Umbridge." This time shouts of jubilation were heard. "Alright, alright, I get it. You didn't like her. Calm down. Right now, I need to talk to Severus Snape, Sybil Trelawney, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Colin Creevey, Alicia Cooper, and John Roddenberry. Could these people meet me in the antechamber?" he pointed to the room off to the side. He then gestured for Harry to join him, earning more whispering from the student body.
There was a shuffling of feet as the people he called met him in a room off the side of the hall. He was going to have to do this one at a time because he only had one set of mirrors. And it's only gonna be him doing the questioning.
He set up a table, set up the mirrors, called Abby. "Abby," he said. When she came into the mirror, he said, "I need you to set up some recorders so that you can take down these questionings." He hated doing it this way, but needs must.
"Sure thing, Gibbs. What do you need?" Abby said, her pigtails bobbing as she set about getting what she needed. She knew it was going to be difficult, but she could do it.
"I'm going to be doing some questionings of some suspects, and I need you to record it all. I don't have anything I can record in this castle. It's too full of magic." He desperately wished for some coffee, but there was none to be had here in the castle. He'd have to get some on the way back to the office.
"Sure thing, Gibbs. Give me a second to set it up," the goth tech said, still moving about. She wasn't even in the mirror anymore. She was moving about the lab grabbing things.
"You've got five seconds."
"You're a funny man, Gibbs."
"You've got two minutes," he said with a sigh.
"That I can do," she chirped. She appeared a minute later with a recorder and put it in front of the mirror and set it up and then moved away again.
While he waited for her, he motioned over the oldest woman in the room, which was Minerva McGonagall. He sat her down at the table and explained to her what he was going to do. "I'm going to be asking you a series of questions about what you were doing in the hall when the murder took place."
"Well, I never," McGonagall stated, putting her hand on her chest.
"I'm just going to ask you a few questions. I'm not actually accusing you of anything," he said, grumpily. He really hated it when they got defensive like that. All he wanted to do was ask a few questions, but they acted like he had accused them of the murder itself.
"Then why are you questioning me?" the Scottish woman stated, lips thin.
"Because you were there at the time of the murder. This is to give you an alibi," he explained with exaggerated patience.
"Very well then, but I don't see why I have to be questioned," she stated once again.
"I just explained that to you. All you must do is answer a few questions as to why you were in the hall during the time of the murder, what you heard and who you saw," he said once again, in a different way.
"Very well then."
"I'm ready, Gibbs," said Abby through the mirror. Her face appeared with a strained smile, like she heard the conversation and knew that his patience was being tried.
"Okay. My name is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. This is being recorded. What is your name?" he asked, looking at the woman.
"I am Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration Teacher, and Deputy Headmistress," she stated importantly. Her chest puffed out like a popinjay.
"What were you doing in the hall outside of Professor Umbridge's classroom at the time of the murder?" was the first question.
"I don't know when the time of the murder was," she answered primly.
"Approximately an hour and fifteen minutes ago," he said, looking at his watch to get the general idea.
"I was disciplining a couple of Hufflepuffs for arguing in the hall," she said after thinking it over a few moments.
"Can I have the name of these Hufflepuffs?" he asked, jotting it down. That wasn't the answer he was expecting. He thought she was there for other reasons, like going to her classroom or delivering papers to a teacher.
"No, I would not give you the name of my students," she answered sharply as if that was the last thing she would do.
"This might be important," he pressed.
"You are going to be speaking to them. Those two," she said, reluctantly. She nodded to the two sixth years that were sitting quietly along the wall of the room.
"OK, I'll ask them when their time comes. Did you see anybody else in the hall at that time?" He didn't think she would have, or she would have said so, but he had to ask.
"No, it was just me, Alicia Cooper and the other boy," was the answer as if she could not remember John Roddenberry's name.
"And what happened when you were done disciplining them? And did you hear anything?" he asked, wondering why she didn't do anything when she heard the gunshot.
"I heard the sound of a pop, and that was it."
"Was this a loud pop or a small pop?" he asked, jotting that down and looking to make sure that the mirror was still on.
"It was a rather large sound. But we thought nothing of it," Minerva said, waving it away as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience.
"Why did you think nothing of it?" he asked incredulously. Gunshots were quite distinctive. If he had heard it, he would have gone running. Most people would have run away, he would have run towards it. Then again, this lady was a pureblood and wouldn't have known to run from that noise.
"Large noises go off all the time in this castle. The Weasley twins are constantly setting off explosions," she said, like it was something that did happen all the time. This was true, the fireworks had been going off in that general area all year. The twins had been harassing Umbridge constantly.
"And you didn't think to investigate?" he asked, lips pressed together.
"No. I thought it was simply fireworks."
"Very well, you may go. Can you send Severus Snape over?" he requested, nodding to the black clad man, who was glaring at him for all he was worth. 'This is going to be fun,' he thought.
"Thank you," she said sourly. She got up and told the dour professor to go to the table.
Snape got up and sat at the table. He folded his arms over his chest and stared. He waited for the agent to say his legal statement and then said, "I am not speaking to you without my solicitor." He then glared at the man like an unmoving mountain.
"Why on earth would you need a solicitor?" asked Gibbs, looking at the man like he was crazy. He wasn't even a suspect. Until now.
"I am not speaking to you without my solicitor," said Snape yet again. He stared down his crooked nose at the cop and didn't even blink.
"Very well, you may go. We'll arrange a time for your questioning at another date when we have your lawyer," Gibbs stated, making note of the man's demeanor. "Don't leave town," he called at the man's back.
"I don't like that guy," said Abby, crossing her eyes. Sure, she dressed all in black, but that guy wasn't goth, he was just creepy.
"Well, we can't speak to him without his lawyer," the head of the WCIS said, waving the next person over. "We'll have him come down to headquarters and speak to him there. I don't see Trelawney here. I'm going to have to have somebody track her down." He looked around the room and didn't see the woman. He waved an Auror over and whispered in his ear to go and find her. Then he turned his attention back to the teenager in front of him. He did the legal jargon and asked her where she was at the time of the murder.
"Do I need a lawyer?" asked the girl instead of answering.
"Did you do anything wrong?" asked Gibbs lifting an eyebrow. He didn't think she was the culprit. He thought she was just a bystander. Heck, he didn't even think she was a witness.
"No, we were just arguing outside the room when we heard the pop," she said, looking less nervous.
"You and who else?"
"My friend, John Roddenberry."
"You and Professor McGonagall can vouch for him?"
"Yes, sir."
"OK. I don't have any more questions for you right now either. Stay close in case I need anything else." He folded his notebook close and waved her gone.
"Thank you, sir," the girl said with a sigh of relief and bolted.
"OK, Abs, we've got the guardians here. I'm going to start talking to the kids." With that, he waved, calling Creevey over. He was the youngest and he wanted to clear the kid sooner rather than later.
"I don't know what this is all about, but I don't appreciate being dragged in from the muggle world to be questioned," stated a middle-aged man, bringing his son with him to the table.
"Just a few questions about a murder of a professor. It seems your son here was in quite a few detentions with said professor and I need to question him about his whereabouts at the time of the murder," Gibbs said with a great deal of more patience than he had the professor.
"He's just a kid," Mr. Creevey stated, not understanding why his son was a person of interest.
"It's just a few questions, sir. Okay, son, where were you at the time of the murder? Which was a little over an hour ago," the cop asked, tapping his pen on the notepad. He didn't like questioning kids. It was nerve-racking.
"I was, um, in my, um, room," the nervous boy said, looking everywhere but at Gibbs. That didn't bode well.
"Can anybody vouch for you?" was the question.
"No, sir, I was there alone," was the answer. The kid still wasn't making eye contact.
"Do you own a gun?" he asked the father.
"We did, but it seems to have disappeared," Creevey answered, making Gibbs have a sinking feeling.
"When did you notice it was missing?" Gibbs questioned, writing it down and checking the mirror again.
"About the time Colin went to school, come to think of it," the dad said, eyeballing his son. He too got a gut feeling as to where that gun might be, but hoped it wasn't true.
"Son, did you bring that gun to school?" Gibbs asked, lifting an eyebrow. He gave him his best, "You'd better tell the truth' look.
"Oh, no ,sir," the boy said way too quickly. He shrunk into the chair like a boy caught with his hand in the biscuit jar.
"You do realize we're going to have to search your belongings, don't you?" Gibbs tried, looking down on the boy with a disbelieving face.
"Do you really have to ask the boy?" the father asked, not wanting to believe his son would do that.
"Yes, we do. Now I'm gonna ask you again, did you bring the gun to school?" the cop asked, far more sternly this time.
"Yes, sir, but I don't have it anymore," Colin said, bursting into tears. He put his face in his hands and started crying heavily. Great sobs were heard throughout the room.
"I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to have to take your son in for further questioning. That gun could have been the murder weapon," Gibbs said, looking to the mirror and closing his notepad. "You're going to need a lawyer."
"Colin, how could you?" Mr. Creevey asked, completely gobsmacked. That gun was a collector's item. It had been his grandfather's gun during World War II.
"I'm sorry, Dad, but I was scared. Voldemort is back. Harry said so," Colin said, lifting his head and trying to defend himself. He had been so scared to come back to school this year. The gun was his safety blanket. "He kills muggleborns. I'm a muggleborn. I was scared," he wailed.
"But a gun, Colin?" his father said exasperated.
"I'm going to cut this questioning off until further notice. We need to find out who killed Umbridge and we're going to take your son in for further questioning. I need you to stay handy until you get a lawyer," Gibbs said, waving an Auror over to take the two to the WCIS headquarters.
"Yes, I see we're going to need one," the father said, glumly.
"I'm sorry, Dad. But I didn't kill Umbridge. She was alive last time I saw her," Colin said, tugging on his dad's sleeve, like he was pleading for them to hear him.
"No, you don't say another thing until we see a solicitor," his father stated, wondering how they were going to afford one. He was a simple milkman, and they were phasing those out. His route was getting smaller and smaller each day. He couldn't afford this right now.
"Yes, sir," the young teen said, slumping down with great misery. He wished he had never brought that gun to the school, but he'd been so scared.
And with that, the two of them were taken away by one of the Aurors to the WCIS headquarters. The last person to be questioned was Neville Longbottom.
"All right, Neville, Madam Longbottom, just a few questions as to where you were at the time of the murder. Which was about an hour and a half ago," Gibbs said, after giving his opening statements.
"I was in the greenhouse," said Neville. "Uh, Professor Sprout was there. She can vouch for me." He was ever so thankful he had an alibi.
"You were there the entire time, the whole afternoon?" he asked, making note of that.
"Yes, sir, as soon as I was done with the detention with Madam Umbridge, I was at the greenhouse." He nodded his head, telling the complete truth.
"Did you have to use one of those black quills of hers?" Gibbs questioned, looking at the bandaged hand.
"Yes, sir. Everybody does," he said with a bitter tone.
"May I see your hands?" was the gentle question.
Neville held out his hand, unwound the bandage and showed the bloody back of his hand where the line 'I will behave properly in class' was etched in the back. It seemed Neville was being a bit of a rebel this year.
"I will see this school sued,' Augusta Longbottom fumed for all she was worth. She had heard rumors that things were out of control in this school, but this was unacceptable. Dumbledore will answer for this.
"I would too," said Gibbs.
"It's nothing, Gran," said Neville.
"How can you say that, Neville? You have words etched in the back of your hand," Madam Longbottom said, anger dripping off each word.
"It's still nothing compared to what Harry has to go through," the sandy-blond boy said with a shrug. He knew that Harry was treated much worse than everyone else.
"Tell me about that," said Gibbs, hoping to get more insight into the other teen.
"I'd rather not tell tales out of school," said Neville, giving the agent a cold stare.
"I see," said Gibbs. "Very well, you may go now." He watched the two leave the table, and then turned to the mirror. "Well, that's the last of the questioning. Did you get it all, Abs?" he asked his goth tech.
"Yep, I got it all. Do you really think it's one of the kids?" she asked, a tone of sadness in her voice.
"I'm not sure. We've got two kids as suspects. And one teacher that's done a runner," he said, putting his notepad away and looking around the room. Only Harry Potter was there waiting for him. There were two Aurors watching him, along with Agent Todd. The Aurors didn't seem to trust the boy. "Though we really don't know if she's done a runner. She just hasn't showed up yet. We need to go find her. And one teacher who's just being cantankerous. It could go either way."
"I hope you're right," Abigail said, brightening up. She didn't want it to be one of the teenagers. But in her line of work, she knew it could be.
"I need to get a warrant to search the trunks of the kids and the quarters of the two teacher. I'd better talk to Jen," Jethro stated, standing and taking the mirror with him. He jerked his head for those in the room to follow him.
"I'll talk to Ducky and see if he needs me for anything," Abby stated, signing off the mirror.
"Come on, let's get back to headquarters," Gibbs told Todd, leading the remaining group from the room.
"I need to speak to you before you depart," Dumbledore stated as they made their way to the Entrance Hall.
"Talk while you walk," Gibbs said, not liking that the man was trying to waylay him once again.
"You must not take Harry Potter out of the castle," the old man said, ominously. "It's a matter of life and death," he added, like that would change anything.
"Talk," Gibbs said, stopping just short of the doors.