Missing Person

“How do you even use this thing?” The young man gave a machine a poke.

“Don’t touch that!” Abby snapped at him worriedly. She turned towards the man standing near her. “Gibbs! Tell them I don’t need help. Tell them there’s no room. Tell them… there was a stampede. I don’t care what you tell them; just get him out of here!” She looked over her shoulder at the interloper. “And why does he keep poking things with that stick?”

The man smirked at her. “I think you’ll like this a whole lot more than you think, Abbs.” He leant over and kissed her on the cheek.

“But, Gibbs!” Abby whined as the older man turned and walked away.

She scowled and turned towards the young man peering at her computer screens.

“Don’t touch that!”

-+-+-

“Well, I can say with some certainty that this is not Mr. Weasley.” Doctor Donald Mallard looked at Gibbs over the tops of his spectacles. “Red hair, he may have, but it wasn’t natural.” He wandered over to a table full of samples and selected a petri dish. He placed it under a microscope and focused. “See, there.”

Gibbs bent over to look at the sample better. “The root’s black.”

“Exactly!” Dr. Mallard nodded firmly. “Freshly lightened. Not even the right ethnicity.”

Gibbs looked at him. “Then who is this, Ducky?”

“I do have what you might call hunch.” The doctor made a gesture with his pen. “Come look at this.”

They walked over to the illuminated panel that was displaying a series of x-rays and photographs.

“What am I looking at, Duck?” Gibbs asked.

“Here.” Ducky pointed at a picture. “Does this look familiar to you?”

“He was frozen.” Gibbs said flatly.

“Not all of him,” Dr. Mallard declared. “Just his brain stem.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet,” Dr. Mallard said as he pursed his lips at the charts. “But I think he may be on the list of the missing.”

“How long until you know?”

“I have Abby working on some things, but it looks like this might be Jae-Hwo Chang.” Dr. Mallard measured Gibbs’ expression.

“He’s been missing since 1980. Would he be in this good of shape? I thought you said he was a young guy?”

“With the exception of his missing face and the red hair, I’d say he was in very good shape indeed.” Dr. Mallard admitted. “Unusually so. I’m sure Abby will have more to show you soon.”

“I don’t like waiting, Duck,” Gibbs called out as he turned to leave the room.

“It’s out of my hands now, Jethro,” Dr. Mallard called after him. “We just have to wait for the machines to give us what we need to work with!”

-+-+-

“Talk to me,” Gibbs said as he swept into his cubicle area.

“Neighbors say they’ve seen movement at night, but haven’t seen who it is,” Tony DiNozzo piped up.

“Phone records are clean, boss,” Timothy McGee said, furrowing his eyes at the computer screen in front of him. “No one’s so much as picked up the receiver.”

“Well, they’ve got to be communicating somehow,” Ziva David insisted.

“Well, it’s not with the land line and we aren’t getting any hits with the nearby towers.” McGee frowned.

“What about surveillance?” Gibbs asked him. “Anything unusual?”

“Like what?” Tony asked with a confused look on his face.

“Like owls.” A dark-haired man with glasses swept around the corner, scowling.

“Owls.” Ziva echoed. “They’re communicating by owl.”

“This investigation is officially under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic.” He adjusted the pack on his shoulder before handing a scroll to Gibbs.

“I thought all that was classified, Potter,” Gibbs said without missing a beat as his team looked at each other.

“Not anymore,” Potter said grimly. “We have absolute conformation we’re dealing with the Dark Arts.”

“I kind of got that from the autopsy,” Gibbs said sarcastically as his eyes skimmed the document he’d unfurled.

“We can modify your team’s memories before we—“

“Whoa!” DiNozzo held his hands up. “No one’s modifying my memory with some freaky-deaky government hoo-hah!”

“Hoo-ha?” Ziva looked at him with a confused expression.

“It’s a general term for stuff,” McGee explained.

“Then why not just say stuff?” Ziva asked.

“Because hoo-ha’s more appropriate when someone’s talking about playing with your brain!” Tony snapped at her.

“Well, you needn’t worry, Tony,” Ziva said silkily. “You haven’t much to play with.”

“I’ve got plenty to play with!” Tony protested loudly.

“Excuse me, Agent DiNozzo?”

Tony leapt up from his chair to face the man behind him. “Brains, Director. She was implying I had no brains.”

“Hmm,” said the Director, thoughtfully. He turned towards Potter and Gibbs. “I’m assuming Potter’s briefed you?”

“Doing it right now, sir.” Potter confirmed.

“Well, do it on the way to MTAC. The Minister will be on in three minutes.”

“Let’s go,” Gibbs said, gesturing for Potter to go first.

The men marched off, leaving the team to gape at each other.

“They’re communicating by owl,” Ziva said, still disbelieving.

“Ministry of Magic?” McGee said, looking alarmed.

The blast of music assaulted them as soon as they stepped off the elevator. Gibbs and Potter both had to shake their heads to clear them as they proceeded down the hall, towards the source of the noise.

They rounded the corner to see Abby and her new assistant, now sporting blue hair, doing a wild dance, a pink toad on a table nearby, bobbing happily.

“Isn’t this a great band, Gibbs? Teddy taught me a new dance called ‘the Hippogriff!’ You should do it, too! It’s fun!”

“I think I’ll pass,” Gibbs said quirking a corner of his mouth at her as she turned the music down.

“Ron never could get that charm right,” Potter mused to himself as he gave the pink toad a gentle pat.

“We’ll find him, Harry,” Teddy assured him. “I know we will.”

-+-+-

“Are you sure it’s my father?”

Cho Chang sat in a leather chair, her arm around her sobbing mother.

“The DNA’s a match,” Gibbs said gently. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to identify him by sight.”

“When can we collect his body?” Mrs. Chang asked through tears.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we can.” He looked at the women, sitting in abject grief in front of him. “He’d been gone for some time. Probably not long after he disappeared.”

“There’s a point where you start to hope they’ve just run off,” Mrs. Chang said as she tried to regain her composure.

“Oh, don’t say that, mum,” Cho said with a pained look on her face. “You know dad would never have left us on purpose.”

This only caused Mrs. Chang to cry harder.

-+-+-

Gibbs swept into his cubicle area. He scowled at the new piece of computer equipment on his desk and tried to ignore the man working on it.

“We think we’ve picked up a trail,” DiNozzo piped up quickly. “We’ve seen three owls in the area so far.”

“But they could just be regular owls.” McGee gave him an annoyed look. “We haven’t gotten a proper trace on them.”

Gibbs looked at him expectantly.

“Auror Potter is working on that right now, boss. We should hear from him within the hour.” McGee added nervously.

“Good job.” Gibbs said as he turned around and sized up the situation on his desk.

A blond head popped out from underneath it. “Sorry, sir. Five more minutes, sir.”

Gibbs closed his eyes and counted to three. “What is it?”

“I install some extra hardware on your computer and voila! You’re accessible to the Ministry’s network. Security Level 3.”

McGee shook his head as Gibbs scowled. “You should have put it over there. I’m not a computer guy.”

“You’ll like this.” The young man assured him. “It’s a lot easier to use.”

Gibbs just shook his head and turned towards the empty desk that sat near his. “Where’s Ziva?”

-+-+-

Ziva David lay on the cold floor, her body wracked with pain. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t muster breath.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. As the residual effects wore off, Ziva began shaking out her limbs. She blinked hard and forced herself to focus as she groggily got to her feet.

“Nine seconds. That’s really impressive!”

“With more training I’m sure I’ll be able to shake off the aftereffects in a timelier manner.” Ziva tried to say in her usual clipped voice, but it came out somewhat slurred.

“Come on, sit down for a minute. Now that you know what to expect you’ll be better prepared for next time.”

Ziva took a test step before walking wobbly towards the woman sitting on the bench. She was in her early thirties easily, with short brown hair and small gold hoops in her ears.

Ziva sat down heavily and was handed a wet towel, which she wiped her face with.

“I really mean it. Even trained Aurors have a recovery time of fifteen seconds.”

“So, Lavender. How do you get into this line of work?” Ziva asked, changing the subject.

“Went to school. Fought in a war. Got into experimental charms.” Lavender Brown shrugged. “Met Catherine. Got married. Settled down with a real job instead of working out of the back of my mother’s tea shop.”

Ziva snorted. “Our worlds are not so different then.”

“You worked out of the back of your mother’s tea shop?” Lavender joked.

“I worked for my father. Same thing.”

-+-+-

“I would really suggest you all go down to training to get a zap,” Ziva said as she strode into her team’s area of the office, her hair still wet from the showers. “It’s an incredible amount of power to take in. We all need to be prepared.”

“You heard the lady,” Gibbs said as he studied a map on their widescreen. “Get going.”

“You’re not coming with us, boss?” DiNozzo asked nervously.

“Already did it, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said without turning around.

The younger agent scrunched up his face as McGee looked around nervously.

“I think I might be of better use here—“

“You, too, McGee.” Gibbs turned to look at him.

“Uh… OK.” He tapped a few keys on his keyboard. “All the info’s been sent to your computer. You can control everything from there.”

Gibbs watched them leave, vaguely wondering if McGee was a little too happy with his last statement. His eyes went back to the board and he squinted at a picture. He sized up his computer, now sporting a purple monitor with gold embellishments, before sitting down at his desk.

He stared at the black screen for a moment before tapping a couple of keys experimentally.

It whirred into life, chiming happily as stars shot across the screen. When it finally loaded he saw a smaller version of the larger board on his monitor.

He tapped a picture with his finger and felt satisfied when it was highlighted on both his monitor and the larger board. He pulled at its corners to make it bigger and gave the machine a satisfied smirk when it obeyed.

When he was done fussing with the screen he went back to the widescreen and frowned.

“Well, I believe you’re right, Jethro.” Dr. Mallard adjusted his glasses as he peered at the screen. “That is a British owl. I have no idea how it got here, even supposedly enchanted owls have limitations.”

“How’re things down in the morgue?” Gibbs asked him.

“Oh, they’re doing just splendid! They’ve sent me a Miss Granger. Most enchanting girl, if I do say so myself!” He gave Gibbs a roguish grin.

“Just keep your eyes on the ball, Duck,” Gibbs reminded him as he tried not to laugh.

“Oh, I assure you, there’s nothing wrong with these eyes,” he replied as he swaggered off, past the team that was unloading from the elevator.

“What’s gotten into him?” Ziva asked as she set a backpack down on her desk.

“Inappropriately young intern.” Gibbs said as they crowded around the screen in front of him. DiNozzo chuckled. “How did the search of the house go?”

“Everything’s fine.” Ziva shrugged.

“That we can tell,” McGee interrupted.

“The place was a bit of a mess,” DiNozzo admitted.

“But it didn’t look like it was thrown,” Ziva added.

“Tossed,” DiNozzo corrected.

“Whatever.”

“Can we get a little focus here?” Gibbs gestured to the screen. “Ducky says this is a British owl.”

“So we should be looking for that one.” McGee nodded.

“I’ll let Potter know,” DiNozzo said quickly.

“Already done, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said loudly as the younger man hurried to his desk.

“Boss?” McGee looked confused.

“I sent a picture to his phone,” Gibbs said casually.

“You.” Ziva’s eyebrows went up. “You sent a picture to his phone?”

“That so hard to believe, Agent David?” Gibbs asked as everyone went to their desks.

“Kind of.” DiNozzo cocked his head.

Gibbs gave him a look before turning to sit at his own desk. The other agents went to their desks, eyeing each other up warily.

Gibbs held his coffee cup to the side of his monitor and pushed a button, causing hot coffee to flow out.

McGee gave out a look of stunned alarm, but Ziva gaped in amazement.

“How did it do that?” she demanded.

“I modified it a little,” Gibbs said, hiding his grin with his coffee cup.

“You… you modified it?” McGee said in disbelief.

“Yup.” Gibbs said simply.

His computer suddenly dinged and he reached forward to click a key on his keyboard.

“Analysis confirms that all of the pictures are of the same owl,” a squeaky voice came out of his computer.

“Thanks, Knobbs,” Gibbs said to the computer.

“Knobbs?” DiNozzo repeated suspiciously.

“It’s what I call…” he gestured at the machine on his desk.

Ziva walked over and looked at his monitor before giving him a look.

“What?” Gibbs asked innocently.

“Hello,” Ziva said at the screen.

“Hello, Agent David!” A squeaky voice came out of a hidden speaker. “Knobbs at your service! Anything that you might wish, I can do for you!”

“Err…” Ziva gave a desperate look to McGee. “Thank you, Knobbs.”

“So you can operate the computer from your command center?” McGee asked and started as the monitor seemed to morph, creating a stem with a screen at the top. It twisted to look at McGee and his jaw dropped as he caught sight of the house-elf. DiNozzo fell out of his chair.

“Absolutely!” the creature piped up. “You ask and I shall obey to the best of my ability, or not if it violates Wizarding Law.”

“What about American laws?” Tony asked suspiciously.

“I don’t understand, sir.” Knobbs looked puzzled.

Gibbs whistled and the screen turned back to his direction. “Show them what you showed me.”

One of the pictures blew itself up on the larger view screen.

The team looked at it with puzzled expressions.

“Is that an envelope?” McGee asked.

“Appears so, McGee.”

“Who is it for?” Ziva pulled her eyebrows together. “There was no one in the house.”

“It’s got to be for someone.” Gibbs said. “Find out who.”

-+-+-

“Did you see a flash of light?” Ziva asked DiNozzo. “In the back?”

“No,” Tony mumbled around a mouthful of a pastrami sub.

“Well, I did.” Ziva said with finality. “I’m going to check it out.”

She quickly got out of the car, leaving Tony to fumble to put his sandwich down. He quickly went after her, catching up as she slipped up close to the building.

“I don’t hear anything,” DiNozzo pointed out.

“Shh!” Ziva chided him as she crept around the side of the building.

They swung around the side of the house, guns drawn, only to see an empty yard.

“Told you it was nothing,” DiNozzo snorted before he turned to go back to the car.

“I’m telling you, I saw something!”

“Well, I didn’t see anything and there’s nothing here now.” DiNozzo said grumpily.

“Maybe the smell of processed meat scared them off,” Ziva suggested sarcastically.

“Or maybe you’re just seeing things,” DiNozzo said over his shoulder.

“Not likely,” Ziva muttered to herself as she gave the backyard one more look before turning to join him.

As soon as they were crossing the street there was a rustling from a nearby tree and an owl leapt out into the night sky, clutching an envelope.

“Nothing,” DiNozzo said in a frustrated tone as he dropped his field bag with a thud. He sank into his seat and slouched.

“Maybe you just weren’t looking hard enough,” Gibbs said as he sipped from his cup of coffee.

“What did you find?” Ziva asked suspiciously.

“Not me.” Gibbs said. “Potter. He’ll be along in a minute.”

“Can you give us a hint?” DiNozzo asked, glancing at McGee, who was sitting at his desk.

Gibbs gave them a steady look before he clicked a key on the computer in front of him. McGee flashed him a quick look before going back to his own work.

“Good. You’re here.” Potter swung a backpack off his shoulders, letting it land with a heavy thud on the edge of McGee’s desk.

“What’s in there?” DiNozzo blurted out.

Potter smirked at him for a moment before reaching a hand into his jacket and bringing out a large envelope. He handed it to Gibbs before turning to open the pack. “We know it’s difficult to see colors at night so we made copies of our pictures so you could get a better look.”

Gibbs opened the envelope and flipped through the pictures. His eyebrows furrowed together.

“I thought they’d be helpful.” Potter nodded.

Gibbs walked over to his computer. “Knobbs, I need these up on the screen.”

“Absolutely, sir!” a small voice piped up before a hand reached out of the magical computer screen to retrieve the pictures.

“What?!” McGee spluttered.

“My kind of computer, McGee,” Gibbs said with a tiny smirk.

“I can see that,” Ziva said, giving the computer a suspicious look.

“Don’t trust it, Ziva?” DiNozzo asked.

“How secure is it?” She frowned.

“Very,” said Potter as he pulled a cauldron out of his bag. McGee’s eyes went wide as Potter set it down with a heavy ‘thump.’ “Even the Ministry’s best hex and charm breakers couldn’t get through the security system.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” DiNozzo said before flashing a worried look at Ziva.

“What’s all that?” McGee asked as Harry fished several more things out of his pack.

“Some scrying tools. They’re better than Muggle surveillance,” Potter said, as if it explained anything.

There was a commotion from above, near the director’s office and they all looked up.

“I’m not accepting this Dr. Mallard!” Director Vance scowled as he shoved an envelope back into the small man’s hands.

“You most certainly are,” Dr. Mallard said with a snort. “If I can’t be trusted I’m not going to be a risk.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” A pretty woman with curly brown hair said exasperatedly. “It could have happened to anyone.”

“Which is why I’m not accepting your resignation!” The director said with a tone of finality.

Ziva and DiNozzo’s jaws dropped and Gibbs and Potter began making their way upstairs.

“I cannot be allowed to work if my character is in question!” Dr. Mallard insisted.

“Which it’s not,” the woman snorted.

“Is there a problem, Director?” Potter asked.

“I spilled some Veela pheromones,” the woman said in an irritated voice. “You can imagine the rest.”

“Depraved ravishment in the morgue, again?” Potter teased her.

“Absolutely not!” Dr. Mallard thundered. “I assure you her honor is…”

“Mostly intact,” Hermione filled in with a snicker.

“Losing your touch, are you, Granger?” Potter teased and she drew herself up to her full height.

“Like hell.” She snorted, to Dr. Mallard’s surprise.

“Anything I can do?” Gibbs asked, knowing none of this was his department.

“Get Dr. Mallard back to his lab.” Vance sighed. “I have to have Dr. Granger sign a report before I send her back.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is all of this necessary?”

“Unfortunately,” Vance said soothingly. “But it should just take a moment.”

Gibbs took the older man’s arm and began to lead him away.

“I’m telling you, Jethro, all this magic nonsense is more trouble than it’s worth,” Dr. Mallard muttered.

“Like to explain what happened?” Gibbs asked him.

“Not particularly,” Dr. Mallard grumbled as he glanced at the rest of the staring team.

Gibbs ushered him onto the empty elevator and they began the descent down to the morgue.

“In all my years of practice, I have never done anything untoward regarding young ladies!” Dr. Mallard insisted.

“So that butt-slapping incident with one of the laundry ladies at Eton doesn’t count?” Gibbs teased him.

“I was seventeen and if I hadn’t been that drunk I’d never have told you,” Dr. Mallard hissed.

“So what happened this time?” Gibbs prompted him.

“Pretty much the same. With some enthusiasm.” Dr. Mallard said with a sigh of shame. “Maybe a kiss or two. Along with burying my face in her hair to smell it.”

Gibbs tried to hide the look on his face, but Dr. Mallard glared at him. “It’s not funny, Jethro. This could destroy my career!”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Gibbs reassured him. “I don’t see you working with whatever Veela pheromones are very often.”

“You do have a point.” The doors chimed open and the doctor stepped out. “I’ll see you later, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded with a look of amusement on his face. “Hey, Duck! Better get it all cleaned up before Palmer comes in.”

The doors closed on Dr. Mallard’s expression and Gibbs allowed himself a chuckle as the elevator took him back to his team and the pictures from Potter.

-+-+-

“How did this become our problem?” Ziva asked Tony as she scowled at her computer screen.

“When an Emissary disappears off a Navy vessel it becomes our problem.” Gibbs scowled as he swept into their cubicle area. “Even if he’s not authorized to be there.”

Ziva and DiNozzo looked at each other.

“Then what was he doing there?” McGee asked nervously.

“Chasing a dark wizard before he became everyone’s problem.” Potter matched Gibbs’ expression.

“Have any idea why he went in before his backup arrived?” Gibbs leveled a look at Potter, who turned pink.

“He has a habit of acting before he thinks,” Potter said sheepishly. “If he thought it was his only chance he wouldn’t have hesitated to act alone. The guy we’re chasing may be responsible for dozens of deaths internationally over decades.”

“Then why haven’t we heard anything about it?” McGee looked alarmed and glanced at Gibbs.

“Classified,” Potter said with a wince. “Alarming the Muggle population is never a good idea.”

“The what?” Ziva asked.

“Non-magical humans,” Potter explained as he adjusted his glasses.

“Humans?” McGee echoed. “As opposed to what?”

“Centaurs, goblins, giants, elves—” Potter listed off, his face a mask of annoyance as McGee turned pale.

“We get it.” Gibbs said plainly. “There are operations we haven’t heard of. This is nothing new. Serial killers aren’t new either, but at least we inform countries when we get suspicions instead of waiting years to do anything.”

“We couldn’t prove it was one person until this year.” Potter looked weary, as if he were used to explaining their position. “No use getting everyone worked up over nothing.”

“Why was this bad guy on a navy ship?” DiNozzo asked. “If he’s got magic what could he want from us?”

“Plenty,” Potter said grimly. “You’re still using nuclear technology, aren’t you?”

-+-+-

“Are you sure the system’s already been compromised?” McGee asked as he followed the captain through the bowels of the ship.

The captain snorted, a dry loud sound. “I’m sure.” He opened a heavy door made of metal and McGee cocked his head to the side.

The wall of electronics were whirring happily, in spite of a removed panel and something gold clamped on the wires inside that was letting off purple and yellow sparks.

A second set of footsteps stopped behind them and gasped before the sound of a cell phone being flipped open and fast beeping happened. McGee looked over his shoulder to see the look of alarm on the other man’s face.

“We need a jamming bubble,” the blond man said quickly. “Now.”

The captain frowned and McGee sighed.

“He’s not going to get a signal down here!” the captain blustered.

“British technology,” the man gave the captain a smug look before flipping his phone shut. “You’d be surprised what we can do.”

The captain nodded as he gave the phone an impressed look. “So what is all this?”

“You’ve been hotwired.” The blond nodded solemnly. “Are you diverging off course?”

“We have been having some troubles,” the captain confessed. “Just a few degrees off. That’s why we came down here in the first place. Otherwise no one would have seen it.”

“Someone would have seen it sooner or later,” McGee said with a frown as he picked a chip bag up with his pen. “Unless this is from the saboteur.”

“You’ve been waiting your whole life to use that word, haven’t you?” The Ministry agent grinned at him.

McGee threw him a look the other agent ignored, but wasn’t like the man was his subordinate. In fact, in terms of command, he wasn’t sure where the Ministry agents fell.

“So what do we do?” The captain asked grimly. “We don’t have protocol for this.”

“If we were in the UK you’d all be sent to your quarters with rations until you’re told you can come out,” the blond agent said as he frantically typed out a text and sent it. “Shouldn’t take more than a day or so.”

“Should I be making arrangements to get my crew off this ship?” the captain asked McGee, ignoring the British agent.

“Wouldn’t that be easier?” McGee asked the other agent.

“I don’t know,” the other agent admitted. His phone rang and he answered it. “Creevy.” His eyebrows went up and he handed the phone to McGee. “It’s your boss.”

McGee felt his spine stiffen instinctively as he reached for the phone.

“What do you think, McGee?” Gibbs gruff voice asked.

“I think I’m not qualified to make a decision.” McGee winced. “This is way beyond what I know.”

“Tell the captain he should be expecting evacuation vessels by fifteen hundred hours.” Gibbs voice said reluctantly. “I’m not taking a chance with all those servicemen aboard.”

“Will do, boss,” McGee said with a wince as he caught a look at the scowl on the captain’s face. He closed the phone and relayed the message.

“Well, at least we’re not confined to quarters.” The captain shook his head. He looked up at the two men in front of him, an angry look on his face. “You make sure nothing happens to my ship!”

“Hopefully you’ll be as good as new in a few days,” Creevey assured him. “I we’ll treat it like it’s one of ours.”

The captain grunted at the men and called over a sailor who happened past the door. “Redding! Watch these two. Make sure they don’t break anything we need.”

-+-+-

“It’s easier to modify their memories when there isn’t much to modify,” Creevey chuckled at McGee as they rounded the corner into their team’s area.

“I can’t believe he fainted.” McGee giggled.

Ziva hung up the phone on her desk a little harder than was necessary. “Corporal Redding is doing fine. He required twelve stitches and keeps mumbling about demons.”

Creevey winced. “Sorry about that.”

“The doctors are blaming the blow to his head. What happened?”

“Nosy, aren’t you?” DiNozzo raised an eyebrow at Ziva who threw him a dirty look.

“It had a backup hex on it to scare away Muggles.” Creevey furrowed his eyebrows. “Wicked little bugger.”

“Heard you took out your first imp, Dennis!” Potter approached them from the elevator. “Good job!”

“I’m a computer guy, Harry. I can deal with the normal traps and tricks, not bloody curses that try to bite my face off!” Creevey gave him a grouchy look.

“And yet, no one got hurt,” Potter pointed out.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ziva frowned.

“Does he still have his face?” Potter asked as he adjusted his glasses.

“Twelve stitches,” DiNozzo offered.

“He’s fine.” Potter rolled his eyes. They rested on Creevey. “You did well.”

The pale agent pinked and McGee smiled at him.

“Well, that’s something for your resume, McGee,” DiNozzo said as he leaned back in his chair. “Survived face-chewing imp.”

“Is he going to use you for a reference, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked as he swept into their work area.

DiNozzo almost fell out of his chair from sitting up so fast. “Sure, boss. Why not?”

“Well, I’m not going to bail you out when you’re taken in for observation.” He turned his attention to Potter. “Heard anything about Weasley?”

Potter shook his head bitterly. “We know there’s something going on around that house, but if the damned thing’s been charmed there’s not a lot we can do other than look for the Secret-Keeper.”

“Did that make any sense to you?” DiNozzo asked Creevey, a wary look on his face.

Creevey nodded at DiNozzo who threw a look to a smiling McGee.

“I take it you understood that, too?” Gibbs asked McGee.

“Well,” McGee blustered. “Dennis briefed me on what we were dealing with once the booby-trap went off.”

“Good.” Gibbs nodded. “You’re our liaison to the Ministry. Pack your bags; you’re taking a little trip.”

Dripping water was all Ron could hear. He couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see anything in the deep darkness that enveloped him. He knew he was surrounded by stone, a rocky, uneven area that he climbed over and over again to acquaint himself with the area he had to work with.

His fingers went to his broken wand and he blinked back a tear. His father once told him nothing was impossible. Now he’d have to prove it without the use of magic.

-+-+-

“How long has she had the letters?” Gibbs was angry as he walked down the hallway with Potter trying to keep up.

“She was off in the wilderness. Backpacking around for weeks.” Potter grimaced. “She dropped in to see me as soon as she knew. She didn’t trust phone or owl.”

“How are you sure she’s telling you the truth?” Gibbs asked.

“I’ve known her since I was eleven.” Potter squirmed. “She’s my ex-wife.”

“You married your best friend’s sister?” Gibbs stopped and gave Potter an unbelieving look before he shook his head pityingly.

“Yeah,” Potter said snippily. “I know. The long red hair did me in.”

“Tell me about it.” Gibbs snorted as they arrived at one of the interview rooms. He opened the door and Potter strode in first.

A pretty red-haired witch sat at the table with a thick manila envelope. When her eyes lit upon Potter she burst into tears.

He went to her, wrapping her up in his arms and whispering words of sympathy. Gibbs walked around to the table and sat down, waiting patiently for the woman to pull herself together and Potter to remember himself.

She finally sat across from the men and passed Gibbs the envelope she had brought. “I brought them all, but I haven’t heard anything in over a week. I think they may have thought I was ignoring them.”

Gibbs opened the envelope to find it full of letters with pasted-upon words like an old movie. “I’m guessing testing for any DNA would be pointless.”

Potter shrugged. “If they’re smart they did it magically, but you never can tell.”

“So they’re looking for ransom?” Potter asked as Gibbs flipped through the pages.

“Looks like they want a plot of ocean and some privacy for 24 hours.” Gibbs turned a page over.

“What for?” Ginny looked puzzled.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Gin,” Potter said, rubbing her back reassuringly. “I wish I knew.”

“Mum’s gone mad, you know that?” Ginny shook her head.

“I can imagine,” Potter said sympathetically. “She’s already lost a son.”

“And what with Bill becoming wilder—“ Ginny choked up.

“Don’t you worry about Bill,” Potter said firmly. “St. Mungo’s is doing their best to come up with something to keep the lycanthropy in remission.”

Gibbs looked at Potter, but said nothing as he flipped through the pages.

“How many are there in your family?” Gibbs asked.

“Sev—six children. Two parents.” Ginny corrected herself. “I’m the youngest.”

“And the only girl,” Potter offered.

“You particularly close to your brother?”

“He’s the next youngest,” Ginny explained. “Then there’s Percy—“

“No one could claim to be close to Percy,” Potter chuckled.

“Why’s that?” Gibbs asked.

“He’s a snob.” Potter chortled. “Stuffy know-it-all.”

“He’s completely beside himself. You know how protective he is. It’s like he thinks the rest of us were born without brains,” Ginny said grumpily.

“That’s one normal thing, at least?” Potter said cautiously.

Ginny laughed in spite of herself. She blew her nose into a handkerchief and tried to get control of herself.

“I have a feeling you don’t know the newest information,” Ginny said nervously. “The Malfoys have gone missing as well.”

Potter looked taken aback and threw an alarmed look at Gibbs.

“The Malfoy family. Lucius, Narcissa, and their son, Draco.” Gibbs clicked a button on a remote control. “Draco has a fiancée that managed to hide during the kidnapping.”

“We’re bringing Astoria in. They were vacationing in New York when it happened.” Potter filled in the details. “We don’t know if she was missed or deliberately overlooked.”

“How did she hide?” DiNozzo asked.

“Changed herself into a metal vase.” Potter shook his head. “Smart enough to turn into something that wouldn’t get smashed.”

“Was the place gone over?” DiNozzo asked.

“By us or them?” Gibbs asked calmly.

“Um… either?” DiNozzo hazarded.

“How about ‘both.’” Potter said, tight-lipped. “We have no idea what the kidnappers wanted.”

“Have you gotten in contact with the Ministry yet?” Gibbs asked Potter.

“The Ministry, yes.” Potter blinked irritated. “The department we need to verify things, no.”

There was a loud ‘CLACK’ at the window and they all turned to see a hovering owl shaking his head at the pane of glass.

Potter pulled out his wand and waved it. The glass peeled itself back so the owl could fly through, a blue envelope clutched in his claws. He closed the window as the owl soared over to them, finally settling on a wire basket on DiNozzo’s desk.

Potter took the letter as the owl was happily scratched by Gibbs.

“The Ministry has the Malfoys.” Potter didn’t look pleased. “It’s classified. That’s why Ginny didn’t know.”

“Why didn’t they tell us?” Gibbs asked.

“They had no idea Ginny was going to say anything and they didn’t want to waste our time if it was nothing.” Potter ground his teeth.

“Why were they taken in if it was nothing?” DiNozzo asked.

“Because they were this close to being labeled war criminals after the last fiasco.” Potter made a face. “If Narcissa hadn’t turned at the end… well, anyway, I have no reason to believe there’s any issue with them. They’ve kept their noses clean.”

“And you know this because?” Gibbs prodded.

“Because Ron’s father is responsible for doing raids and seizures of Dark Magical items and persons.” Potter sighed. “Plus, they’ve been fighting since they were twelve. If Arthur says he’s clean, he is.”

“Wait, he’s responsible for all the raids and seizures?” Ziva asked. “How many people would that have affected?”

“Over all the years I’d guess over a hundred.” Potter shrugged. “Most of them are in Azkaban.”

“What’s Azkaban?” DiNozzo looked at Gibbs nervously.

“Wizarding prison with guards that can suck out your soul if you get out of line.” Potter shook his head.

The team turned white while Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “The last break out was some time ago, wasn’t it?”

“Gods, I was a teenager.” Potter snorted. “And most of them were either caught or killed.”

“Most of them?” Gibbs asked in a tight voice. “There are some of them still out there?”

“The ones that were cleared.” Potter shook his head. “And they had to take an Unbreakable Oath.”

“What’s that?” DiNozzo asked.

“A cure that kills you if you don’t comply.” Potter said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s pretty foolproof.”

“What if someone takes another Oath after the first?” Ziva asked. “Do they cancel each other out?”

“I—“ Potter thought for a moment. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask Hermione. She knows everything about curses and jinxes and stuff like that.”

DiNozzo had a sharp intake of breath.

“How long does it take to kill you?” Gibbs asked.

“What?” Potter asked. “Couple of hours. The Ministry did some nasty work with the Oaths used for suspected Death Eaters.”

“Death what?” Ziva looked alarmed and glanced at Tony.

“That’s what they called followers of Voldemort.” Potter shook his head. “But now he’s really dead and there’s nothing to bring them together again.”

“Really dead?” DiNozzo asked. “As opposed to?”

“Coming back from the grave because he has pieces of his soul stashed about Britain.” Potter sounded regretful.

“Are you sure you got all of them?” Gibbs asked.

“Obsessive compulsive about the number seven and pathetically predictable?” Potter snorted angrily. “Yea, we got them.”

“Sounds like you have a thing against this Voldemort guy.” Gibbs commented.

“Everyone has a thing against him.” Potter snapped. “He tried to destroy the world!”

Ziva quirked an eyebrow at him and Potter deflated.

“I killed him when I was seventeen.” Potter admitted.

Gibbs looked impressed. “How’d you do it?”

“Well, first there was a prophecy that got my parents murdered so I went to live with my worthless relatives.” Potter was winding himself up tighter as he spoke. “I discovered I was a wizard at eleven, went to school where I was stalked and spied on by his minions. I watched everyone that got close to me hurt or killed. Then he started terrorist attacks on London and me, Hermione, and Ron took off to find the pieces of his soul and destroy them so he could be killed.”

“Then what happened?” DiNozzo was holding on with rapt attention.

Potter looked at him and took a deep breath. “Then he killed me and I came back from the dead.”

Ziva and DiNozzo gasped.

“Narcissa risked everything telling Voldemort I was dead when I wasn’t. I owe her a life debt. We’re magically connected.” Potter admitted.

“That’s a good reason to be protecting them,” Gibbs pointed out.

“Except I didn’t know they’d been taken, I haven’t been home since this started, and I have no reason to help them out at all unless they’re in danger, which they weren’t.” Potter said sarcastically.

Gibbs nodded in a satisfied way. “You don’t seem happy about that. Wouldn’t their son be about your age?”

“And he’s still the self-righeous, snotty, little prig he was when he was eleven.” Potter snorted. “And he owes me a life debt for pulling his arse out of the fire during the final battle. Literally.”

“Sounds like you’re all connected in some way or another.” Gibbs mulled this over for a moment.

“The whole place was thrown.” A brown-haired man looked at Potter sheepishly from inside Gibbs’ computer. “After we’d been there.”

“How can you tell?” Potter asked.

“Protections were all broken.” The man looked uncomfortable. “Snapped them like they were nothing. This is really dark magic, Harry.”

Potter wearily rubbed his eyes. “Thanks, Perkins. At least you got to them before someone else did.”

“Lucius Malfoy sure changed his tune fast enough.” The man smirked. “Hasn’t stopped thanking us since we found out.”

Potter frowned.

“What?” Perkins asked suspiciously.

“Why be that thankful and shaky over something you didn’t know was coming?” Potter screwed up his face. “People usually aren’t like that unless they know what they’ve been saved from.”

“Good point,” Perkins said seriously. “We still have them here under protection. I’ll try to find out what’s going on.”

“Thanks,” Potter said and the man saluted as the box went black.

Potter turned to look at Gibbs. “I think it’s time to talk to Hermione.”

-+-+-

The descent from the offices to the morgue was a long one, but Gibbs enjoyed the quiet and Potter seemed to be doing the same. When they reached their destination the doors opened, only to have their silence breached by a loud ‘KLANG!’

Potter drew his wand silently as Gibbs unholstered his gun. They crept along the wall until a low moaning started.

They burst into the morgue and were surprised to see Hermione had Dr. Mallard pinned to a wall, his shirt ripped open and his glasses askew. She was licking his chest and he didn’t look the least bit upset by it by the grin he had on his face. A tray of tools lay spread out over the floor where they had been dropped.

“Veela pheromones again?” Potter chortled as he put his wand away.

“Get the hell out of here, Harry.” Hermione scowled. “I told you I haven’t lost my touch.”

Potter rolled his eyes. “You have half an hour and then we need to talk about curses and Oaths.”

“Deal,” Hermione snapped. Ducky threw a goofy look at Gibbs and soon both Potter and the former marine were in the elevator laughing.

“He must be brilliant,” Potter chuckled. “I’ve never seen her rip someone’s shirt off before.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see him be so nonchalant about having a torn shirt.”

The men were both still giggling like mad when the elevator arrived at their floor, but their smiles faded when they saw the expression on Director Vance.

“What’s happened?” Gibbs asked seriously.

“A body was found in the ocean near the boat the imp was found on. It was another person that’s been missing for decades.”

-+-+-

“He ran out on us, I don’t care what happened to him!” The dark-skinned woman stuck her chin out at McGee while her son rolled his eyes.

“Well, you might,” McGee said, obviously at the end of his rope. “He may have disappeared because he’d been taken and made into an Inferius!”

“An Infa-what?” She squinted at him.

“An Inferius, mom,” the man said gently as he put a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “It means Voldemort mangled his soul and preserved his body.”

“Like those zombie-things you were telling me about?” Her green eyes went wide.

“It would mean he was taken from us. Not that he left us.”

Her eyes darted around the room and she began shaking her head. “He ran out on us.”

“Would you like to sit down, Mrs. Thomas?” McGee asked politely. “I have some nice tea for us. Here, have a biscuit.”

“Did you make that tea?” Mrs. Thomas asked sharply.

“Uh… they don’t let me do that anymore.” He turned a brilliant shade of red.

The other man laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it soon enough. She spit out the first cup I made for her.”

“It was terrifying.” His mother snorted as McGee got them cups.

When they had settled in and had sampled the fare, Mrs. Thomas put her hands around her cup as if she were trying to warm her hands.

“The nights I stayed up being mad at him. Cursing his name.” She shook her head again.

“It’s OK, mom. You’re a Muggle. They wouldn’t have worked.” She threw a look at her son who had quirked a corner of his mouth at her.

She hit him on the shoulder before pulling him closer. “This is important to you, isn’t it, Dean?”

“I’d like to know, yea.” He nodded at her. “It’s like it would make things better. You wouldn’t be mad all the time and we’d finally know what happened.”

“If this is a match.” She snorted. “And if it isn’t I’d be even madder at him.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” McGee placed a picture face-down on the table.

Mrs. Thomas looked afraid as her son flipped the picture over. Then she howled like a wounded animal.

The composite picture was nearly identical to her son.

“We’ve got a confirmation on the last body,” McGee said grimly. “It’s Fleming.”

“You all right, McGee?” Gibbs asked as he looked at his computer screen.

“I just met the widow and the son. They thought he’d run off.” McGee shook his head.

“Got a lot of that going around lately,” Gibbs remarked.

“How do you let it not get to you?” McGee asked looking uncomfortable.

“You don’t.” Gibbs told him. “You just get better at dealing with it.”

McGee had an unsettled look on his face when Gibbs shut off his screen.

“Bad news, Gibbs?” Director Vance was approaching the team’s area with a large envelope in his hands.

“At least we’re finding out who these bodies are.” Gibbs shrugged. “At least that’s something.”

“Well, we’ve got another ‘something.’” Vance looked grim. He handed Gibbs the envelope. Ziva’s eyes darted to the envelope and then back down to her work. “We have more pictures of that owl from a satellite, but it’s not going to the house.”

Ziva stiffened and looked up. “Where is it going to?”

Gibbs pulled the pictures out of the envelope and looked them over. “Into a tree.”

-+-+-

It looked like street construction was going on in front of the house they’d had on surveillance, but it was only a trick of the Ministry to keep Muggle attention away from the house. When Gibbs and his crew walked into the yard they found themselves in a large bubble full of wizards milling about with instruments and sensors letting off dings and sparks.

“What was that?” Tony turned to look back the way he came.

“Camouflage spell.” A witch with long black hair came up to them. “It’s not very strong, that’s why we created the work outside. Keeps people’s attention.”

“Any chance we can get use of it when we aren’t working for the Ministry?” DiNozzo asked hopefully.

“Sorry. No can do.” She smiled. “The Aurors found a beehive in the branches but nothing seems to be going in or out of it.”

“So… you think he’s in there?” Ziva asked with a quirk of her head.

“We don’t know.” The witch admitted. “We’re trying to see if we can get it down without harming anything.”

“Why not just cut the whole branch off?” Gibbs asked.

She blinked for a few moments before breaking out into another smile. “You can all get briefed by McGee. He’s over there with some of the other Aurors.” She turned on her heel and began to move quickly to the tree.

The team smirked and exchanged knowing looks with their boss.

“Hey, Boss!” They turned to smile at McGee who was sharing a sandwich with some of his new colleagues. “Meet my team! This is Creevy, you’ve already met him. And this is Dobson and Kenning.”

Gibbs nodded at them while he eyed up McGee. “Going soft on us?”

“They’re really rigid with their rules,” McGee explained as DiNozzo happily took part of a sandwich that never seemed to get any smaller. “We can’t go in until they shoot up purple sparks.”

Dr. Mallard, Jimmy, and Hermione stumbled into the yard and looked all around.

“Did they shoot up purple sparks yet?” Hermione asked.

“Nope,” Dobson said before handing her some food. “Got a kettle on’s just about ready.”

“Was that even English?” Ziva asked Tony.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered back.

A shout went up and an Auror was blasted out of the tree, smacking the side of the camouflaging bubble and sliding down.

“You can always go in, Boss,” McGee teased. “Sure they’d be more than happy to let you join in.”

Gibbs snorted and refused the crumpet one of the men offered him.

“There’s coffee in the back as well. Know how you lot are like without your coffee.” Dobson smirked.

“I’d rather not think about how you’ve managed to abuse it,” Gibbs remarked as he pulled what looked like a credit card from an inside pocket. He put his mouth to a corner and tilted it upwards.

“I’ve been asking for one of those for years,” Kenning said, a grouchy look on his face.

“You should have offered to buy jeans for Matilda in requisitions.” Gibbs tried not to smile. “You should have seen what she tried to give me for a pair of designer shoes.”

Dobson laughed as Kenning’s scowl deepened.

There was a whizzing sound and they turned to look at a shot of purple sparks shooting into the air and bouncing off the sides of the camouflage bubble.

“Everybody back!” Someone yelled and people began moving in the direction of Gibbs and his team.

You didn’t need to be tall to see the beehive expand and stretch to an immense proportion, stretching the bubble, but not breaking it.

“What the hell is that?” Tony asked as his face paled slightly.

“Their hideout, DiNozzo.” Gibbs said as he started forward. “What did you think it was?

The team returned to the office, Gibbs not batting an eye at the bubbling cauldron sitting on Tony’s desk.

“Nice of you to join us, Potter,” he remarked.

“Could say the same to you.” Potter said as he peered into the cauldron.

Gibbs scowled and walked over to Potter. “What have you got?”

“I’m guessing their hideout was empty?” Potter suggested.

“Not entirely. There were signs that there had been people there. Found some evidence to send in for testing.” DiNozzo protested.

“Good.”

A single blue bubble floated out of the cauldron and Potter caught it in a jar. Then he pulled a wand out of his robes and waved it, making the cauldron disappear. He shook up the jar but the bubble didn’t break. He sat it on the corner of McGee’s desk.

“What’s that?” DiNozzo asked cautiously.

“We have our own brand of forensics.” Potter grinned.

“Then what’s with the Rainbow Kid down in the basement with Abby?”

“They aren’t here to work on my hunches.” Potter shrugged and glanced at the jar.

“It didn’t look like they’d been gone for long.” McGee said as he walked over to his desk and settled into his chair. He tilted his head at the bubble.

It popped suddenly, coating the inside of the jar with what looked like clotted blood. McGee leapt back, wheeling his chair violently into the wall of the team’s cubicle area.

“Was it supposed to do that?” Gibbs asked.

“Only if it was good news.” Potter looked relieved. “He’s alive and strong.”

“Then this is good news.” Ziva agreed. “You have more than we do so far.”

“Except that we’ve found their hideout and they could be anywhere.” Potter sighed. “They may be in Siberia for all we know.”

“Except that we might know something.” Teddy and Abby beamed at the team, having quietly entered through the elevator. “Someone in there had been going to the Kettle Club.”

“The Kettle Club?” Harry looked bewildered.

“We were going to analyze a scrap of paper you guys found, but Teddy already knew what it was.” She held up an evidence bag.

“It’s a membership card,” Teddy said. “Or rather, it was. Looks like this poor guy’s lost his privileges.”

“They’re charmed against damage, so if anything happened to this card, it was, like, totally done by the same wizard that assigned it.” Abby nodded. Gibbs tried not to look amused at her. She was adapting faster than anyone else was.

“So we should find out who assigned this card.” Gibbs took the evidence bag to look at the scrap of paper.

“No problem,” Teddy said. “Only one wizard gives out membership cards. Killian Kettle.”

-+-+-

“I’m afraid to ask how he knows about this place.” Potter took a deep breath and let it go.

“Oh, come on. Weren’t you ever young?” Gibbs smirked at the other man.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Potter groaned dramatically.

The unassuming storefront was located in one of the seedier parts of town. The small display was black. A single pair of handcuffs lay on the painted wood.

Harry knocked on the window and the pair of handcuffs snapped into the air vertically and a face appeared in the top cuff. Small arms shot out of the chain and it put it’s ‘hands’ on its ‘hips.’

“And what can I do for you?” A female voice asked cheekily.

Potter pulled out his wallet and flashed something at the window. “Here to talk to Kettle.”

The face scowled and the cuffs fell back to the bottom of the display. There was a click and the boarded-up door swung open a crack.

Potter and Gibbs walked down a dark hallway that opened up into a dim room, sparsely lit with purple and hot pink hidden lamps. The music was exotic and a circular stage was set up in the center of the dance floor. Currently a man wove fire around scantily dressed dancers as flames licked at a few people in the background that seemed to be writhing in pain.

“It’s part of the show,” Potter explained to the alarmed Gibbs. “They actually pay for a spot up there.”

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. People never cease to amaze him.

There seemed to be some sort of story being woven on the stage, but Gibbs was watching the crowd. Several young people danced around the stage as if it were some sort of rock concert while others sat in booths, some with the privacy curtains closed. A Large booth sat on a parapet above the rest, its bannisters gleaming in the little light there was.

A man sat in the booth with several young ladies, each drinking out of a fluted glass. Gibbs squinted at them for a moment before nudging Potter. “I think we found our guy.”

They made their way to the booth without incident and they looked the man up and down coolly before looking at the girls with him. “They old enough to be here?”

“Excuse me?” One of them asked, her face screwed up. “Who the hell are you?”

Potter whipped out his wallet again. “We have some questions.”

Her eyes went wide. “For us? What did we do?”

“Why do you assume we’re here for you?” Gibbs asked suspiciously.

“If it doesn’t have to do with the club why else are you here?” She rolled her eyes.

“You work here?” Gibbs asked and the man in the booth laughed.

“Work?!” The girl looked as if Gibbs had slapped her. “Are you joking?!”

“Forgive my sister,” the man said as he tried to compose himself. “We don’t see many foreigners around here.”

Gibbs squinted at the man who seemed to be amused at some private joke.

“I own a share of the family business, same as everyone else!” Her chin had taken on a stubborn set.

“This suitable family entertainment?” Gibbs nodded at the stage.

“Forgive my friend,” Potter interrupted. “He’s assisting me through the American NCIS program. He’s not familiar with some things.”

The girl gave Gibbs a disgusted look before setting her glass down. “No wonder he doesn’t recognize ‘The Taking of Wildthorn.’ It’s only three hundred years old.”

“Stop it,” her brother barked. “We have no issues with foreigners, no matter where they come from. The only thing we ask is discretion.”

“Of course,” Potter agreed, causing Gibbs to roll his eyes. “May we?”

“Of course.” The man beckoned them to sit down. “Juice? Smoothie? We don’t serve alcohol before midnight, I’m afraid. We’re trying to change our image.”

“No thank you,” Potter said politely. “I’m afraid we’re here to ask about a former member.”

The man nodded. “I’m afraid father takes care of all that. He’ll be off in a moment and always joins us.”

Gibbs opened his mouth but Potter nodded pleasantly. “That will be fine.”

Gibbs ground his teeth in annoyance.

He turned to watch the show as the dancers seemed to rise out of the flames wielding wands and dressed in elaborate costumes. The lighting went blue and the seemed to float above the stage, clouds forming out of the tips of their wands. Gibbs was watching small robins swoop through the sky with the dancers when a man joined them in the booth and sat down heavily.

To his surprise, the man wasn’t the one who had been the center of attention, but one of those who had been writhing in the flames. He had long grey hair and pale skin. He drank deeply from a bottle of water.

“A most believable performance, father,” the young man said.

“Made all the more better by having an itch I couldn’t reach in my bonds,” the man chuckled. He seemed to be unsigned.

“Mr. Kettle,” Potter said as he flashed his wallet. “I’m afraid we have a problem you may be able to help us with.”

The older man’s eyes went wide at the wallet and his eyes snapped to Harry’s forehead. “Harry Potter! Well, I never!”

He took Harry’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Anything you want, on the house! The girls even installed a Muggle milkshake machine!”

“I’m afraid we’re here on business,” Gibbs said seriously.

Potter explained the situation as apologetically as he could, but the Kettle’s were more than happy to provide them with information.

“Whole group of them got bounced permanently.” The elder Kettle nodded. “Don’t hold with that nonsense in here. Ivan can tell you.”

The younger Kettle nodded furiously. “Came roaring through the Floo like the second coming. And on Tea Night!”

“Tea Night?” Gibbs prodded.

“Everything’s all frills and lace. Party dresses and tea sets. We make a fortune in cake alone.” The young man explained and the girls nodded in agreement.

Gibbs tried not to snort. Oh, how things change when you have kids.

“Ripped a girl’s dress off like it was Pillage Night!” One of the other girls piped up. “It was so rude!”

The other girls laughed. “Didn’t think it was funny when we did the same to him, did he?” The girl nearest to her squealed with laughter.

“The girls are not allowed to go to Pillage Night now, or ever!” The young man said quickly. One of the girls made a face at him.

“You’re all still supposed to be grounded for that little stunt.” The old man furrowed his brow. “It would do you well to at least pretend to feel bad about it.”

“We should have just disarmed and held them,” the eldest looking girl sighed. “We shouldn’t have resorted to theatrics.” It sounded as if it were something that had been drilled into them. Gibbs tried not to smile.

“I’m trying to build a flexible client base for you clowns to inherit, it would be nice to get a little help,” the old man bickered.

“So who were the men you… er… disarmed?” Potter asked.

“Group from the old country.” The elder Kettle shrugged. “I’ll look it up for you. I think there were about a dozen. All hopped up on some bloody local Quidditch game. Morons.”

“England is ‘the Old Country?’” McGee asked with a raised eyebrow as he looked over a file.

“For some wizards it is.” Potter nodded.

“Hey!” Tony squinted. “There’s our man!”

“What?” Ziva asked.

“Red-haired man, drunk, refused to give name, said he was a Black.” Tony’s eyes went over the page. “Came in as a guest of… someone in that group.”

“It might not be him,” Potter said, his voice tense.

“There’s one way to find out,” McGee interrupted. “They crashed a party for girls, right?”

“Fancy tea party, yea,” Tony nodded. “Looks like there may have been some men or boys there, but we don’t have their real names.”

“Can’t blame them for not wanting to be ousted, DiNozzo. We just need to figure out who we need to question and the club will make arrangements for us.” Gibbs put his copy of the file down.

“How do you know they won’t betray us?” Ziva asked. “How do you know they aren’t helping the people we’re looking for?”

“They passed Liaison Screening and took an Unbreakable Vow,” Potter said as if this were reassuring.

“Is that secure?” DiNozzo asked nervously.

“You’d be surprised,” Gibbs said, glancing at Potter.

-+-+-

“So, Mr… Smith.” McGee looked up from his file. He doubted the man in front of him was really named Smith. “Can you tell me about what you saw?”

A slight man with dark brown hair and delicate features crossed his arms. “A great bunch of buffoons that shouldn’t be allowed out without a keeper.”

“Care to elaborate?” DiNozzo asked.

“Sure. They came through the fireplace halfway to hades in their drink.” The man seemed to simmer with anger. “Upended tables. Ripped a dress off Miss Primrose.” He chuckled. “That one regretted that.”

“Do you remember seeing this man with them?” He slid the man a copy of Ron Weasley’s picture.

“Oh, yeah.” The man pointed at the picture. “That one was the only one that was completely embarrassed.”

“I’d like to know a bit about Miss Primrose,” McGee said seriously.

-+-+-

“Miss Primrose…”

“Sadie,” the girl said. “Sadie Filbert.”

Ziva jotted a note down in her file. “You were there when the incident occurred.”

“I was.” The girl nodded. “Robert Mathis ripped my dress off.”

“You knew who he was?” Ziva was surprised.

“He’s one of my regulars at the Pussycat Club.” The girl nodded. “Idiot.”

“Does he frequently rip people’s clothing off?” Ziva asked.

“He usually sees me with a lot less on, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen him act aggressively before.” She shrugged. “He’s usually really mild-mannered.”

“So it was a surprise,” Ziva prompted.

“They aren’t even allowed to touch us at the Pussycat Club, let alone rip our clothes off. We aren’t that kind of place.”

-+-+-

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Gibbs looked at Potter seriously.

“That Ron doesn’t know he’s been kidnapped?” He took a deep breath and rubbed the scar on his forehead. “It’s been crossing my mind.”

“Do we even know he made it to the ship?” Gibbs asked. Potter’s head shot up quickly. “When was the last time he was actually seen?”

“The Ministry, I’d guess.” Harry shrugged. “I was working on a different assignment.”

“Did he have a partner?” McGee asked.

“Not this time. He was just supposed to be in and out.”

“No partner?” Tony looked disturbed.

“He had a wand, Tony. It’s not like he walked in there unarmed.” Ziva gave him a pitying look.

“But he assumed he’d be the only one with a wand.” Gibbs said. “What if he wasn’t?”

“What are you thinking?”

“As far as I know, there’s nothing banning wizards and witches from joining the military.” Gibbs’ eyes went to the projection board and the enlarged picture of the ship. “Did we even bother to question the crew?”

“We did,” McGee said slowly. “But I think we might approach it from a different angle.”

-+-+-

It was simple, really. The questioning would be more in-depth. Nothing unusual, with the exception of a single word written on a nearby bottle.

The majority of the marines looked at it quizzically, but all it took was patience.

A tall, pale marine with glasses stepped into the room and froze when he saw the bottle. He pulled his upper lip down over his buck teeth and swallowed hard.

Gibbs smiled. “Why don’t you take a seat? Let me get you something to drink.”

-+-+-

“Did it even have this…‘Veritaserum’ in it?” Ziva asked.

“No. Just a water bottle with a new label.” Gibbs smirked as he pretended to shuffle papers.

“So what was his deal?” Tony asked.

“He must have Apperated right on top of him.” Gibbs chuckled. “Marine hit him with a stunning spell, and then realized he was a wizard and he didn’t think he could go through regular channels.”

“Why didn’t he just repost an intruder?” Ziva asked.

“Saw Weasley’s wand and panicked.” Gibbs shrugged. “Potter didn’t seem surprised.”

“So where did he go from there?” McGee asked.

“Sent for a family member to help clean it up. He didn’t know he was an Auror until this other guy showed up to collect him.” Gibbs refilled his cup of coffee and took a sip. He shook his head. “I’m going to be sorry to see this thing go.”

“Then what happened?” Tony asked.

“That’s everything he knew.” Gibbs shrugged. “Then they started partying it up and the ransom letter appeared.”

“Why is he going along with it?” McGee asked.

“Potter says there’s some sort of charm that can confuse people and make them susceptible to suggestion.” Gibbs looked at Ziva. “What did you find out about Robert Mathis?”

“Not a lot,” she admitted. “He usually goes to the Pussycat Club on Thursdays, but he hasn’t been seen there for a couple of weeks.”

“You think he’s behind the ransoming?” Gibbs asked.

“We got his bank information as best as we could.” Ziva made a face. “There was a reasonable amount of money in it, but not enough to support the type of partying they’ve been doing.”

“We couldn’t get his overseas information.” Ziva shrugged, but she was clearly irritated. “Their banking system runs completely on a system like safety-deposit boxes. No one knows what is in them.”

“Is he the head of his family?” Potter asked as swept into the team’s area. “Wizarding money systems are practically Victorian. He probably gets an allowance if he’s not.”

“Can you find that out for us?” Gibbs asked as he took a drink of his coffee.

“If you let me use your computer.” Harry nodded.

“So she was drugged?” Gibbs frowned.

“She was potioned,” Granger corrected. “It’s a little different.”

“Not enough for me,” Ducky said uncomfortably. “And a pinch of mental manipulation automatically built in. Terrible thing.”

“Any access at the bank?” McGee asked.

“No, but the place had been gone over. A book was missing from her library.” Potter said as he rubbed the scar on his forehead. “Won’t know what it was until the potion works its way through her system. It’s probably the same stuff Ron is on.”

“If she remembers at all,” Creevy said grumpily, which was rewarded with a glare from Potter. “Well, you never know with these old witches. There were a lot of books in that room!”

Potter took a deep breath. “Yea, I know. We might be able to put her memories in a Pensive and tease it out of her. I don’t want to do anything until she’s a bit better.”

“You can take memories out of someone’s head?” DiNozzo asked, his face aghast.

“Not really, but you can take them out of your own head.” Potter shrugged. “She’d probably go along with it.”

“It shouldn’t be long now,” Granger assured him. “The healers are making her their highest priority.”

A bell went off and Gibbs’ monitor twisted around to face everyone.

“The missing book was: Forgotten Empires by Heddiwog Higgins.” Knobbs announced.

“That’s a fairy tale book!” Creevy scoffed. “Gave Henry a copy last Christmas.”

“The missing copy was a seventeenth-century edition, hand-copied by Allyson the Irritated,” Knobbs said in a snooty tone.

“Have the copies changed much over the years?” Gibbs asked curiously.

“We can copy by magic. There’s no need to alter things,” Knobbs said with a sniff.

“Then why was there a hand-copied edition?” McGee asked.

Knobbs cleared his throat and looked somewhat embarrassed. “A loose modern American translation would be that the young Lady Allyson was grounded. Frequently.”

There were several snickers, but Gibbs and Potter looked serious.

“How fast can you get us that book?” Potter asked Creevy.

-+-+-

“What do you have for us?” Gibbs asked McGee, who was scrubbing his hands with a tissue.

“Well, it was a pretty good book. There’s a lot in it that’s historically accurate so there might be a bit to it.”

“Problem?” He looked at McGee’s hands.

“A couple pages were kind of… jammy.”

Gibbs tried not to laugh. “That’s what happens when you have to pry a book out of the hands of a five year-old. Learn anything else?”

“There was an island in the Atlantic that supposedly possessed some sort of apocalyptic weapon about two-thousand years B.C. It was indestructible so they used it to sink the island and bury it in the sea.”

“Think that might be it?” Gibbs asked, grinding his teeth.

“I think that even though the text might be the same, some of the illustrations in the book have been changed. This one was really cartoony.” McGee admitted.

“Illustrations in a kids’ book can make a difference?” DiNozzo asked.

“When several of them are maps, it is.” McGee said, visibly tense. “We need to get an older copy of that book.”

“I’ll look for it on my computer.” Gibbs nodded.

“There are several copies of that particular book in existence,” Knobbs said brightly.

“Poor Allyson,” DiNozzo winced.

“The closest version to you is in the wizarding branch of the Library of Congress, having been acquired in 1974 after being referenced during a classified event,” Knobbs said.

“Still classified?” DiNozzo asked.

“All wizarding events are sealed permanently by the United States government,” Knobbs said primly.

“Of course they are,” Ziva said with a huff.

“Can we get special clearance?” Gibbs asked. “I’d say we’re clued in at this point.”

“You can always ask.” Knobbs shrugged.

-+-+-

“There’s been another sighting of them.” Ziva hung up her phone. “They just left somewhere called Merlin’s Lodge.”

“It’s a supper club,” Granger offered.

“It seems that they’re on their way to the Pussycat Club,” Ziva said matter-of-factly as she closed a file on her desk.

“I want you to tail him,” Gibbs said as he gestured to McGee and DiNozzo. “He won’t know either of you.”

“They might have a bit of trouble getting in,” Granger said as McGee handed her back her tablet. “But I can get you the address.”

“How do we get in?” DiNozzo asked.

“If you can find your way in, you’re in,” Granger said cryptically.

-+-+-

“Are you sure?” DiNozzo asked as he looked around the seedy street. “There isn’t any club around here.”

“Look at this,” McGee said, handing him a bit of paper. “Then look up and concentrate.”

DiNozzo read the address and squinted up at the crumbling brownstone in front of him. As he watched, the building became taller and another building seemed to sprout from its attics.

It was black and blocky with a long staircase that wound around the brownstone. A single pink neon cat was set into the inky blackness of the building.

The men looked at each other before beginning the climb.

“I.D.’s please,” the plump woman at the door asked them with a smile.

“Uh, we’re supposed to give this to you.” McGee fumbled in his jacket for an envelope. He handed it to the woman who opened it and peered in. Her smile grew wider and she ushered them in.

“Did you just bribe someone?” DiNozzo asked.

“I have no idea,” McGee admitted. “Maybe.”

DiNozzo chuckled and shook his head before clapping McGee on the back and going deeper into the club.

-+-+-

“How’d it go?” Gibbs asked, trying not to let on that he noticed glitter in both the men’s hair.

“It was awesome!” McGee blurted out. “There was dancing with fire and little fairies flitting around refilling drinks!”

“I meant about Weasley.” Gibbs said sighing.

“Oh, yeah. We saw him. He was schnockered and grinning like an idiot.” Tony looked suspicious. “I think he might have been potioned.”

“Could be, DiNozzo. Anything else?”

“The guys that were with him didn’t seem to be, but they just looked like a group of regular guys.” McGee shrugged.

“They all seemed to be pretty jolly for a group of hardened criminals,” DiNozzo said.

“You think bad guys are hard all the time, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked.

DiNozzo shrugged. “You’d think they’d be cautious if they had a hostage.”

“It’s looking less and less like he’s a hostage.” Gibbs looked at the both of them.

“Do you want us to go in?” McGee asked.

“We have to corroborate with the Ministry first, but I think it’s time to make our move,” Gibbs nodded.

There was darkness and noises. They didn’t sound like the noises he’d become accustomed to. He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. He didn’t panic. Sleep paralysis had a habit of touching his family in times of stress. He relaxed and focused on the noises. They seemed worried.

At long last his eyes fluttered and he was rewarded with a blast of light. He swore and tried to cover his eyes.

“Ron!”

His eyes flew open at the sound of his ex-girlfriend’s voice. He was in a white room filled with both healers and doctors. He blinked. “What am I doing here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Ron?” A gentle voice asked.

Ron turned his head to see his best friend. He felt relieved. “What is all this, Harry?”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Harry explained softly. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Glitter.”

There was a snort and Ron turned to see Hermione roll her eyes and step through the white curtain that surrounded the bed.

“What’s going on?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“You went to check out that American ship and you were kidnapped,” Harry said.

“Was I?” Ron rubbed his forehead, which seemed to have wires taped to it. “What happened? Where’s my wand?”

“Ron!”

Ron had just enough time to groan before his mother pulled back the curtain and scuttled to his bedside, flinging her arms about him.

“We were so worried!”

Ron looked at his mother, shocked. She looked as if she’d been crying for days. He hadn’t seen her like this since Fred had been killed.

“Mum! What’s happened?!” Ron cried out.

“You, this time.” His father peered at him over his mother’s shoulder. “We’ll have to get you another wand, I’m sorry to say.”

“Good to see you’re just as clueless as ever.” George’s face appeared over Ron’s mother’s other shoulder. “You must be feeling well.”

“Well, I’m glad to be… back?” Ron guessed. His mother choked back a laugh as she hugged him again. “Was I in a cell at one point?”

George and Harry shrugged awkwardly.

“You’re going to be so sad when you hear about your kidnapping.” Mr. Weasley shook his head. “You had quite the wild time!”

“I did?” Ron asked with a mild smile. “You’ll have to tell me about it!”

“We’ve got pictures as well,” Harry said with a smirk. “Pretty amazing stuff.”

Ron looked slightly befuddled as Harry caught him up to speed.

“So there’s no more threat?” Ron asked, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Threat’s gone, warhead’s been returned, artifact’s buried even deeper than before,” Hermione said smartly. “And you missed it.” She shook her head.

“So, where are we?” Ron asked.

“St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said with a smile. “We had you brought back by emergency Floo. NCIS is waiting to hear how you are.”

“It sounds like those Muggles knew what they were doing.” Ron nodded. “We need to make sure the Ministry thanks them properly.”

“It’s already been done.” Harry smiled widely.

-+-+-

“Are you sorry to see them go?” McGee asked Gibbs as the younger man packed up his satchel.

“All that magic mumbo-jumbo isn’t for everyone, McGee.” Gibbs glanced at the normal Muggle computer sitting uselessly on his desk. “Some of us have enough already.”

McGee chuckled and shook his head. Computers might as well be magic as far as Gibbs was concerned. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday, boss.”

“Have a good one, McGee,” Gibbs said as the younger man swept out of the team’s area. Gibbs waited for the elevator to ding before looking around for a moment.

He pushed a panel on the government-issue desktop and a small spout came out. He filled his cup of coffee before pushing it back to where it was hidden.

He finally let himself relax as he took a deep drink.