Disclaimer—I do not own Harry Potter, the Closer nor any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I do not earn any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Bonus chapter! Because sometimes one chapter is never enough.

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Chapter Two

Brenda Leigh Johnson wasn't having a good day. She had to testify in court that morning, she managed to get lost twice on the way over to this latest crime scene, and the house she was currently standing in was hot as blazes! Covertly she looked around to the others there and found that they were perfectly fine. Clearly she was overreacting, she thought as she looked back down at the body. The man had been beaten, but whether this was before or after he was already dead was a mystery to even herself.

"Sergeant Gabriel, please take note that we must inquire of the coroner if the beating was the cause of death or if he was bashed afterwards," she said, as she pushed her blond hair out of her face in frustration yet again. Standing up straight she attempted to put her hair up once more, as she went carefully around the body taking note of every little thing. She stood up, yanking her glasses off.

"This makes no sense at all! There isn't as much as a hair out of place!" she exclaimed, looking over to Lieutenant Tao. "Are you sure that none of the people here touched the body?"

The bald Asian man looked over to her, saying, "From what I saw when I arrived, the people in the home cordoned off the area where the body was in the garage, not due to any sort of help towards us, but to keep the kids out of the area. They had their hands pretty full with them, as well as the drunk you had hulled into the station."

"How many are there here?" Brenda asked absently.

"Ten," he told her, shocking her.

"Ten?!" she asked, looking over to Lieutenant Flynn.

The tall man nodded, saying, "Ten. From what I was given to understand this is a big family vacation and this is just their vacation residence. The group is from England." The man with salt and pepper hair went closer over to the Deputy Chief and said, "I seriously doubt that man you had hauled in had anything to do with this." He waved at the body. "He may have been a babbling idiot, but he was an absolutely drunk out of his mind babbling idiot."

Pursing her lips, she conceded, "You make a good point, but we need to start somewhere. And as he was the closest one to what happened, I want to see if he knows anything."

"I don't see how that's a good idea," he told her. "He was still stinking of whisky and cursing/praising someone by the name of Hermione Granger—whomever the hell that is."

"Let's find out, shall we?" she asked the order to which he nodded and went off to work on finding out.

Provenza rushed into the house, going straight over to Brenda. "Chief, someone just showed up and pulled the one that was threatening to make some very serious phone calls off to speak to him in private."

"Really?" she asked, still studying the corpse of the twenty-something year old man in front of her. "And what were you able to find out about her?"

"She's just as British as the rest of them, but she seems to have a lot more on the ball," he told her. "She said that she was his 'solicitor' and she wishes to speak to him in private."

"Her name wouldn't happen to be Hermione Granger would it?" she asked.

"Mr. Potter never said her name," the older officer said to her. "She has a very high expectation of privacy, but she doesn't know that we can watch her along with Buzz reading lips…"

"Buzz!" she called out as she was rushing into the house and straight up the stairs. "Buzz, where are…" She nearly collided with him. "Oh there you are." She looked over to Provenza.

"Straight out in front of the house next to the neighbor's fence." She pointed the way she thought he meant and he nodded.

"Come on, Buzz!" she ordered the civilian surveillance coordinator to follow her to the nearest window that they could overlook the private conversation.

They ended up having to go into one of the bedrooms, rushing over to the window where Provenza pointed them out to them.

"She doesn't look very happy," Buzz said, studying the woman's posture.

"No she does not," Brenda muttered. "Can you understand what they're speaking about?"

"No, not really," Buzz said, sounding as frustrated as she was feeling.

"Oh I know that look!" Provenza said, as Harry seemed to blanch at something that she was saying to him. "She has something on him."

"You think?" Brenda asked him dryly.

"I know sarcasm when I hear it," he said pithily only receiving a glare from his superior officer.

The frizzy haired woman pointed straight at them, as she was speaking to her friend.

"Do you think she knows we're watching them?" Buzz inquired of them, as he looked up from the camera's viewfinder to look at them with his own eyes.

The woman went into her purse digging through it and pulled out something that looked like some sort of ID. Brenda's eyes went narrow, as she looked down to the people down below. She moved so that she could see on the visors better on the camera's screen rather than with her own eyes. She put on her reading glasses in order to see whatever was in the woman's hand.

"It's a badge," Brenda breathed. "I think."

Provenza, now with a pair of binoculars was looking out at the two. "Yeah, looks like."

Brenda grabbed the binoculars from Provenza and was managing to strangle him, as she was taking an even closer look.

And then it happened. The woman on the street turned straight towards the house and held up her badge and kept it open for a good minute.

Standing up straight, Brenda gasped in shock and outrage.

"Oh my Gawd!" she all but screamed.

"I can't recognize the badge," Buzz said, looking towards Provenza who shrugged.

"What the blue blazes is MI6 doing here?!" she exclaimed her voice shrill.

"MI6? As in she works for the British spy organization?" Provenza asked, looking confused.

"As in she works for MI6, but as what I haven't a clue!" She threw the binoculars into Provenza's chest and stomped away.

"Ouch!" the older man muttered. "Buzz…" The younger man looked over to him. "This will not turn out pretty."

"I figured that out when the drunk guy threw up on your shoes," Buzz said dryly, walking away from him as he added, "There's still some vomit on your pants you know."

Looking down, he cursed and muttered, "Some days I wonder why I leave my bed." Leaving the house he went down to his car to get a clean pair of pants. With any luck, they wouldn't be dirty too.


And there goes the next chapter into the Nirvana that is the Internet. Yeah. That's a stretch. I'm tired. Live with it. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this. If you can, please review. I truly appreciate it. Take care and have an awesome day.