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Witch What!!!

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3rd POV

Hermione was sitting on a bus, heading to her new job working as a Magical consultant for the American Federal Bureau of Investigation, just four hours after arriving on her plane from Britain. She was exhausted, her luggage wasn’t even unpacked, she had no furniture, and she was alone in a new country. Long story short, she was excited. Even though her day was less than conventional and she felt dead on her feet, she was free. Free from the raging press. Free from the corrupt British Ministry. Free from the war. From memories. And she knew she wasn’t going to be alone forever. Harry would be arriving soon. He just needed to pack up the Black house.

The thought made her smile for the first time as she looked around the dingy bus that smelled suspiciously of bodily fluids. The smile disappeared with a cringe in its place. She was going to need a car. Soon.

It was no surprise when she had been granted the position at the BAU. When you add her “job” experience with Tom Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort, and her grades, it turns out that you don’t need much of a recommendation. It was quite surprising how eager they were to have both Harry and Hermione gone. She had an idea why that was though.

Sadly, for the prejudiced people in power, Hermione’s progressive stage in her school days did not dissipate. Soon people found that she wasn’t easily persuaded when it came to supporting oppression and segregation in her community. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (SPEW) was only the start of her rampage throughout the magical community. A mudblood changing the medieval views and practices that were concrete since Merlin knows when was not popular with the Purebloods that basically made up the entire government body, so, she was transferred rather quickly. And because Harry was a major contributor to the organizations, he was mysteriously granted to go with her as company. “How unfortunate,” Harry had said when they had gotten the news. “ I’ll miss the doughnuts Dawkins brings to the office in the mornings.”

So here she was in America, heading into her new job on a dirty bus, missing her friend, and preparing herself to meet her new coworkers. She had heard many things about what the team explicitly did, as they were somewhat infamous in the law enforcement scene, and what she heard was very contradictory of itself. Things like ‘fake’, ‘impossible’, and ‘scarily exact’ were passed along with ‘incredible’, ‘reliable’, and, ironically enough, ‘witchcraft’, the latter making her laugh.

She heard other things about the team itself, stating that the people on it were tightknit and closer than a family. She also heard that the people were scarily able to deal with the horrors psychopaths conjured and practiced, a necessity for the job obviously, with little problem. If Hermione was going to join their team, she would have to be advanced at the skill of compartmentalization, and be able to handle trauma with efficiency and a cold hand. Luckily she had been doing these things since she was eleven. Once again, her advantages from fighting a war as a child while the trained adults ignored the obvious, assisted her. She would actually recommend it to growing young adults. A wonderful hands-on learning experience, really. ‘Do you want to be blamed for something that happened before you were born? Well then become one of the chosen ones!’ She snorted at the thought. At least she had a break now.

When the bus stopped suddenly and her face planted in the back of the seat in front of hers, she broke out of her thoughts, and silently scolded herself, as she rubbed her sore nose. ‘That’s not a good road to go down. Restrain your inner sarcasm, Hermione.’ Her reprimand led to her actually noticing her surroundings. When she noticed her stop was next she started gathering her things, straightening her skirt, and fixed her blouse. As she stood up she tucked a strand of loose hair from her bun, behind her ear. Her hair had calmed down over the years but it never lost its noticeable curl. Hopefully her bun would hold.

She stepped off the bus and approached the building in front of her. She checked her wristwatch. Punctual as always.

‘Deep breath Hermione, deep breath.’


 

The BAU team was expecting a new member today. Everyone was informed about the new addition to the team around two weeks ago and deemed it temporary and completely normal, seeing as very few could stomach the job. A position was usually open on the team, and many tried to join but left quickly. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

What came as a surprise was the age of the new agent. It only became more exciting when they were told where the new recruit was from. “Britain? Why are they coming from Britain?” All they were told about the supposed specialist being called in, was that she was Hermione Granger, a 25 year old consultant from the UK. That’s it.

“That’s about the same amount of information in an Instagram bio. I mean, we are the FBI, aren’t we?” Penelope Garcia said, as she rolled over to her trinket ridden desk one morning. Curiously, Spencer Reid peered over her shoulder as she typed in Hermione’s name.

“I do agree that the information they gave us is not the most, erm, informative, but is this really necessary?” Though Agent Aaron Hotchner’s face did not seem to show it, as per usual, you could feel his discomfort with looking their future coworker up like she was one of their criminals. David Rossi seemed to agree, but he refrained from vocalizing his thoughts at Garcia’s glare aimed at Hotch. Everyone knew that you couldn’t argue with their team’s techy. It would only lead to personal information being mysteriously released on some public site, the poor souls. They all, even Jennifer Jareau, otherwise known as JJ, and Emily Prentiss, who hadn’t spoken, shivered at the thought.

Garcia’s quick fingers began typing after everyone was once again quiet. After a few seconds she stopped.

“Here it is!”

Another click.

“Um.”

A few more clicks.

“Huh.”

She exploded into full blown keyboard smashing after a moment of silence.

“What is it Garcia?” Hotch questioned.

“It’s…it’s empty.”

“Wha-?”

“OOOooooh…” Realization dawned on her face and with it came a devious smirk that struck fear in the hearts of the team.”

“What is it Garcia?” Spencer tried again.

“It’s not empty. It’s been emptied, like mine.” she laughed. “We have a sneaky girl coming in.”

They all started at that statement. Garcia was granted into the FBI because she hacked into their system and she was caught. But, instead of charging her with ‘like 20 felonies’, as she puts it, they hired her. If she was anything like Garcia, then the team knew they were in for a wild ride.

“How exciting!”

That was two weeks ago. Now, it was the day that they were supposed to ‘greet the new asset nicely’ as Strauss had said. They all arrived a little early and seemed to be unusually fidgety while meandering around the bull pen, except Reid; he was always fidgety. The unusual file and the strange information spurted a growth of curiosity in the team. They stood around and murmured for a bit but then migrated to stand stationary somewhere else.

They were starting to give up on waiting when the door of the elevator opened.

In walked a woman. She was average height and average body, but she held an air of unexplained power and, surprisingly contradicting her put together look of a white long sleeved blouse and a black, spotless pencil skirt, she had a slightly mischievous glint in her eye. She held herself with respect, but she did not look haughty in any way, shape, or form. The only messy component of her look was her hair. It was pulled into a messy ‘bun’ on the back of her head with a few loose hairs in front of her face, which she kept nervously pushing behind her ears after they fell into her face. She was beautiful.

She stopped when she saw the group staring at her, and a little nervous cough escaped her throat.

Her English accent broke the silence of the room.

“’Ello. I’m, uh, Hermione Granger, your new coworker?” It ended in what sounded like a question.

When there was no response she started to immediately apologize.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! It’s just that it’s my first day here and… in America too? Sorry! I’ll just leave-”

At that they started out of their stupor.

“No, no, no, sorry!,” Garcia started, “You’re in the right place. You just surprised us is all!” She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Hermione laughed.

“You had me scared for a second there!” Garcia laughed with her.

“I’m Garcia, the team’s Technical Analyzer.”

They went around and Hermione mentally filed their names in her head.

Prentiss, the grown emo.

Hey, she’s actually pretty cute.

JJ, girl next door with a gun on her hip.

Morgan, helpful hunk.

Hotch, Unit Chief and local emotionless, therefore fearless, leader

“I’m Spencer Reid.”

Hotch opened his mouth, but before he could get anything out, Hermione spoke.

“Dr. Reid?” He paused but smiled.

Boy genius.

Rossi, renowned author.

They all studied her as well. 

A normal girl but with an empty record. Curiouser and curiouser.

They had been exchanging small talk for about ten minutes when two others walked in. A tall, but buff man, and a woman who was a bit heavy but dressed as if she could kill you in heels, and knew it.

“Granger!” She turned around quickly and the two pulled out badges. You could see the recognition on Hermione’s face and…was that relief?

“I’m Dubois,” The man said with a slight accent, “and this is Williams.” Then Williams spoke up. “Were here to give you your tour. Come on.” Her accent was horribly American.

Hermione was brought to her new desk to put her things down, before heading to the elevator with the two other mysterious agents.


 

Hermione’s POV

I walked into the elevator with the two other magicals, who were standing stock-still until the doors shut, blocking me from my new teams view. A button was pressed and a badge was scanned for authorization. As soon as the procedure was done, the two seemed to explode.

“Are you the Hermione Granger?”

“Can you sign something for me?”

“Please, please, please take a picture with me.

” “I cant believe-”

Then a gasp. “HARRY PO-"

I held up one hand and their blabbering halted. “I came here to relax, and get away from the war. As of right now I don’t have the press up my butt and I would like to keep it that way. So, please, refrain from telling anyone who would leek my location. And don’t ask me any of those things like I’m some sort of celebrity. I’m not. I just had a job to do and I did it. Okay?”

A pause.

“She’s so cool!” squealed Dubois.

Ugh.

We arrived on a floor level that wasn’t on one of the buttons. As much as I like magical Britain, our ‘tech’ is nothing compared to this. The door dinged and I allowed the two to get off before me. I followed them as they named out the different people and the jobs of the people there. I met the leader of the Magical Guard. Penny Grant was a calm and older woman, a wonderful leader that welcomed me with open arms, and she made a conscious decision to not mention the war. It was rather refreshing to meet a witch like that.

“Now, I’d like to have you under my jurisdiction, but sadly you are Hotch’s now,” she had said. “Don’t you worry. He’s a wonderful leader, and you’ll do just fine.”

After about an hour of meeting people and, begrudgingly, signing things (Post-it notes, shirts, random body parts, and on the back of this one guy’s divorce papers) and taking pictures, we left to finish with the rest of the tour.

We made it to the elevator and on the way back to the BAU’s floor, we stopped and they explained the tasks and roles of each group on the other floors. With their surprisingly funny banter and quips, I was actually warming up to them, and we made it through the floors easily. Some of the said floor’s purposes were relatively normal, but others were disgustingly boring.

“They have a team to do what.” I deadpanned.

“Yep.”

“But… How do the muggles survive that?”

“Don’t know.”

Accounting. I know I probably took a class and loved it, but as a job? No thanks. The goblins handled banking and accounting for us lowly mortals, and I was perfectly fine with leaving it like that. I made sure to voice my opinion in a whisper, and in reply I got a few chuckles from my companions. After getting over the disgusting fact that some people would be doing this job for the rest of the time they worked, we left quickly.

We finally made it back to the BAU’s floor and when the doors opened up, the floor was the same other than the absence of a few of the agents I met earlier. The doors shut on Williams and Dubois and I sighed in relief. Finally. Even though it was admittingly nice to hang out with the other magics in the building, it was nice that I could actually spend some time on my own job.

I went up to my desk again and I checked to see if the eyes of the others were on me as I sat in my chair. The ministry seemed to be even more behind than even I knew. I haven’t seen chairs that spin in years! I gave said chair one test spin, for scientific reasons of course, and if I let a giggle slip out, I refuse to acknowledge it.

I heard a muffled sound, that I recognized as a laugh, coming from the desk of Prentiss. I turned around to her as I felt my cheeks heat a little, and I gave her a barely-there smile. Sorry not sorry.

I turned back around quickly, and immediately went searching for my first assignment in the noticeable stack. With the two factors of being the only witch or wizard that was working these cases and the fact that most of these crimes are of magical origin, I, obviously, would have a large work load. It’s surprising that they just now added a magical to the muggle’s team. They have handled the magical cases very well but…

Back to the assignment. Bitemarks? Scratches. Mangled limbs… I went to the bottom of the paper.

‘Werewolf’ I transcribed, ‘Volatile, Extremely Powerful,…’ I wrote down the basic stats for the creature and then placed it in a new pile of finished paperwork. I felt giddy at the new responsibilities of this job. If this was the boring part then I couldn’t wait for the more tasking part of the description. Now, where was I?

Veela…


 

Prent iss POV

The new recruit was interesting. She seemed to be stuck between being professional or being more lax. She looked at some of the things as if they were new to her. Added on to that was the two random agents, that none of us have ever seen before, flashing badges, that none of us have ever seen before, and taking her on a ‘tour’. We had a short discussion about the matter, and eventually decided to leave it and resume working. After all, we had just gotten back from a job so it was paperwork day.

After a while, the elevator gave out a familiar tone signaling the arrival of our new guest. She walked a little unsurely, which was normal for someone who was new here. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she seemed to analyze her chair. She sat and checked to see if anyone was watching her. For a second it was weirdly suspicious, almost like she was planning something, but when she seemed to be pleased with what she saw, she gave the chair a spin and I swear I heard angels sing when that little giggle escaped her mouth.

Oh my god. OH MY GOD. That was so cute. What!?

I tried to muffle my surprised laugh but I couldn’t stop a little bit off noise from stopping. She turned around and the little blush on her cheeks and the little smile on her lips made my chest tighten.

Wait, what?

No.

Do not get a crush on the new girl.

I could hear a small, and VERY annoying voice in my head singing, ‘too late!’

.

.

.

Ugh. I need to talk to JJ.


 

Chapter Text

\\\\\\\\3rd  POV

As an adult Hermione didn’t often make assumptions about things. She couldn’t speak for her younger self, but she learned while growing up that situations can drastically change in seconds. It’s dangerous to assume. That saying, this was a rare time. Hermione felt that she was really going to like this job. Overall the last week had been okay.

            Her coworkers had proven to be interesting and intelligent, Reid being exceptionally so. Derek was much more than what his appearance expressed. He was funny but also a genuinely great guy. Garcia was one of the most eccentric people she’s ever met, including the people in the wizarding community. Hotch, who is only now just getting used to her coming in every morning, much less accepting her into the “family”, was still a nice guy under all of his grumpy personality. JJ, who was seemingly nice at all times, made no exception for Hermione. Hermione could only see Rossi in a good light, as she became a fan of his many works when she was studying up for the position. She desperately wanted to have a discussion with him, and maybe even Reid, but still felt too out of place with the muggles to show her academic obsession. And Hermione, the chaotic lesbian that she was, was always sneaking glances at the gothic badass Prentiss.

She had dark everything except her skin, which, if someone said anything about Snow White, She would think about. She had a way of sashaying into a room, but strangely, in a more dominant way? Almost like she was saying “ I’m in charge here,” without saying a word.

How do you dominantly sashay? What am I thinking? What would Harry say if he saw me ogling over Some pretty girl? Probably something annoying like—

            “Watcha lookin’ at Granger?”

            Hermione jumped in her seat and swiveled to look at who had spoken. It was Garcia. She had a devious smirk on her face, reminding Hermione of a mischievous imp. Garcia’s smile made it impossible not to smile back.

            “So I see you’ve ventured outside of your office, Garcia?”

            “Yea… I do that every once in a while to keep things interesting. I need to do it more often now than ever. You may not know it because you’ve only been here a week, but we’ve usually would have been on a case by now. It’s kind of weird.”

            “ I could tell people were waiting on something. Things have been a little tense in here.”

            “We should be getting a case any second now. I’ve gotten word that something fishy is going down in New Mexico. Should be interesting for your first case, Huh?” She smiled.

            Hermione nodded her head in agreement. “I’m ready!”

They were interrupted by Garcia’s flip phone sounding. She flipped it open, scanned the little screen for a second and squealed.

            “The case came through! I’ll get it to Hotch and we’ll be going baby!”

            She rocketed off before Hermione could say goodbye. Hermione went back to ogling.


 

 

Hermione POV

 

It was about thirty minutes after I talked to Garcia when we were all called in for a meeting. We headed to a place on our floor that I had never been in before. A door was opened and we entered the Big Table Room, as I deemed it, and took a seat. Hotch and Garcia were already standing at the front of the room with what looked like a presentation. Hotch spoke up first, and I was surprised to hear my name.

            “Hermione, since this is your first case, we’ll ask you to help where you can but mostly just observe. This will be like your training. Ok?”

            “Yes Sir.”

            Time to see how this works.

            It took no time for Garcia to transition into the case.

            “Winston, New Mexico. Friendly town, unfriendly guest, it seems.” Garcia started “There has been seven reported missing in the last two months, not only from Winston, but from the surrounding towns. Six of them have been found dead. At first it may be hard to see but the killings all have the same distinguishing patterns; bruising on the wrists and ankles from the victims being restrained, minor wounds in different stages of healing, and a trace amount of ketamine.

Prentiss spoke up, “isn’t that an anesthetic?”

Reid butted in too, “Yes, Actually it’s found in common “date-rape” drugs.”

“So, are we looking at a rapist here?”

“That’s the odd thing. Any evidence pointing towards any sexual violence hasn’t been found on any of the bodies.”

 Garcia started up again, “Victim profile is all over the place. There’s no certain preferences that are able to be seen; no certain complexion or appearance, no certain age. The only thing in common between the victims is that they were women. They were mangled and seeming to be placed carelessly in a variety of greens and shrubs. “The bodies of Jess Miranda, Coco Kerr, , Nikki Lyon, Yolanda McKay, Taylor Pitts, and Imani Barron are dumped at the same grounds and actually not that far apart. The disposal is messy and violent and it looks like there is no remorse in the way the victims are placed. All of the bodies are literally dumped.

 Our information on the killer and the town is limited so we will have to be doing some investigating.”

At the end of the information dump, the team seemed to pounce on voicing possible ideas and hypotheses of what this genre of killer could be. I heard the phrases ‘disorganized’ and mentions about race and sex being thrown around. From the mixed conversation, I could get a basic grasp on the person we were after, and, if they are correct, then we are dealing with a real sicko here.

The cuts and pattern of the slashes on the deceased are reminiscent of a certain insane werewolf that I know of from the war. But, a werewolf? No way, the cuts are too clean, and if it were a werewolf then there would more than likely be bites aswell. Maybe it was just a human.

Soon the discussion calmed down and I heard Hotch say the words that might as well be his catchphrase.

“Wheels up in thirty.”


 

 

After thirty minutes passed, we made our way to the jet for my second plane ride ever. I must say that the mode of transportation is way more comfortable than apparition, though apparition takes way less time.

The jet had different sections with different types of seats on the carriage. Reid seemed to like the couch so I just took one of the regular chairs just far enough from the others. As the others settled down and the jet took off I took out my newly acquired files about the victims and started to read. Clouds and time blurred on.

 

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Sometime on the way I fell asleep. I awoke abruptly to the sound of wheels skidding on pavement as we landed in what I presumed was Winston, New Mexico. I packed my files and left along with my new team. The scene opened with a desert like landscape. The town seemed small but I knew that the town was close to the Gila National Forest, the sixth  largest protected forest in the US. It was a gruesome thought that there was probably more bodies hiding in those trees, some not even belonging to our killer.

We rode in our government issued SUV to the small police department. I made sure that my badge was extremely visible, the acronym MACUSA shining in the unrelenting sun.

I’m glad I packed extra deodorant. I just know I’m going to be sweating.

Soon we arrived at the small building and were blasted by the AC as the slightly dirty doors opened. We were hurriedly corralled into a room by the officers. Along the way we were given mixed looks of relief and distaste.

“Um, here’s your room to do what you need to I guess,” the flustered secretary stated before escorting herself out of the room.

We quickly settled in that room as well, taking up as much of the meagre space the station could offer. Ten minutes into the move in Hotch was already talking and gathering information from the local officers with JJ, Reid and Rossi were pinning up locations and addressing suspicions and ideas, Derek was on the phone with Garcia trying to get information about the towns past, and Prentice was trying to get to see the bodies and the autopsy reports. I helped where I could, but mostly I was just watching as they worked. This all seemed like a second nature for the team. It was crazy. Soon two hours went by and the team was still going.

While the team was distracted, I scanned the room for any magicals within the sea of muggles. I met eyes with the secretary, just as she stepped into what I assumed to be the women’s toilet, and she winked at me. I dismissed myself and made my way over.

I walked up to the identical doors and approached the one the secretary went into, though it was hard to tell if it was even a women’s toilet. The word “Women” had been turned into just “Wo e.”

I wonder if that’s an omen

I walked over and softly opened up the door saying nothing just in case I was wrong. There was the secretary sitting on the loo staring at me.

“Umm, Hello? I’m Hermione Granger. You are?”

“I’m Dotty May…” she paused and then flashed a badge almost identical to mine and said, “Your turn,”

She let out a breath when she saw my badge. “Thank Merlin. I thought I had been mistaken for a sec there. I’m stationed here alone by MACUSA. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a witch.”

 “Being around muggles all the time is tiring for you, eh?”

“Yeah, it can be…boring. I don’t know how the muggles do it all the time. No magic? That would be hell. And I’m on strict “no magic around muggles” job. I can’t even have my broom… Well now I’m rambling again. We should discuss what’s going on here.” She walked me to the last stall and sat me down.

“Okay, here’s a briefing. Some girls have been found dead in the woods. They all look like they are murdered by the same person.  The muggles are doing their best investigating, but our magic can help a lot. I have to lay low and keep out of the actual business here, so you go out with the muggles and help them there and I’ll try to figure out a little here and give you what I find. Sound good?” She took a deep breath after the spill.

Speechless, I just nodded.

“Good. Great. Let’s go.”

She promptly left the bathroom.

Are all American magic folk like this?


 

 

By the time I made it back to the team they were in a different room talking to the local police officers.

“Reese Finney is the girl that is missing right now. She could be dead in those woods right now. How is “analyzing behavior” going to help us find her?”

“We can predict what he will do next based off of what he has already done, doesn’t that make sense? Trust us, we know what we’re doing.” Rossi said.

The man sighed. “You better.” He left.

Hotch turned to me after everything had died down. “People have a hard time believing in what we do. Suspicion is part of the job.”

“Got it.”

How are we supposed to help people who don’t even believe in how we help? This was going to take some time to get used to.