Chapter 3: Bob

Sitting in the armchair, Harry did his best to ignore Dudley as his cousin sighed in annoyance for the umpteenth time, doing his best to focus his attention on the paperback book that Dresden had tossed at Dudley before leaving.

"How long has he been gone?" Dudley questioned.

"I'm pretty sure it's only been fifteen minutes," Harry answered with a sigh as he lowered the book and looked at Dudley.

"Ugh!" Dudley groaned as he slouched on the couch, "What are we supposed to do while we're locked up in here!?"

"You could read a book," Harry suggested as he gestured towards the bookshelf.

Dudley looked at Harry with an expression of utter contempt before rising to his feet and moving towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Harry questioned as he sat up in his seat, looking at Dudley with a worried expression.

"I'm going out!" Dudley said, as he stopped at the center of the room and turned back to look at Harry, "I can't stand another second in this stupid place!"

"But where will you go?" Harry asked as he rose to his feet as well, "We don't know where anything is around here. And Mr. Dresden said that the thing that's looking for us might be out there."

"The thing looking for you, you mean," Dudley countered as he glared at Harry, "It's got nothing to do with me!"

"Don't you think if whatever it is that's looking for me caught you, it would do things to you to try and find me?" Harry argued, his expression turning grave, "Maybe even what it did to…."

Harry trailed off as he thought about what had happened to his aunt and uncle. The same thought seemed to have occured to Dudley as well, and the larger boy quickly wiped at his eyes as tears suddenly welled up in them.

"Well then, what am I supposed to do?" Dudley demanded, "Because there's nothing to do here!"

To emphasize his point, Dudley stamped his foot childishly on the ground. As he did, instead of the dull thud both boys expected to hear, they heard a hollow bang. Looks of confusion spreading across both of their faces, both Harry and Dudley looked down at the larger boy's foot. Experimentally, Dudley lifted his foot and dropped it down again, the action creating the same hollow bang again.

"What is that?" Dudley questioned as he looked back at Harry.

"I don't know," Harry admitted as he walked over to where Dudley was standing, prompting his cousin to step to the side. Reaching down, Harry grabbed the throw rug that covered that section of the floor and pulled it up to reveal that beneath it, instead of the concrete floor he had expected, there was a wooden trapdoor.

"Is that a door in the floor?" Dudley questioned in confusion as he looked at Harry.

"Looks like it," Harry confirmed with a nod.

"But I thought this was the basement?" Dudley asked.

"Maybe there's a….subbasement?" Harry guessed with a shrug.

Turning his attention towards the door, Dudley reached down and grabbed the iron handle.

"What are you doing!?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I'm opening the door, obviously," Dudley replied as he looked at Harry like he was stupid.

"But we don't know what's down there," Harry observed, a concerned look on his face.

"It's a basement," Dudley observed, "It's probably full of stuff that people gave him that he's too polite to throw away."

"Yeah, but this apartment belongs to a wizard," Harry countered, "We have no idea what could be down there. For all we know, there could be a no subbasement and this door leads to Hell or something."

Dudley's face went pale at the thought, and he seemed to reconsider his plan.

"Is that something wizards can do?" Dudley asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered with a shrug.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Dudley questioned in confusion, "You're a wizard!"

"Dudley, I just found out I was a wizard this morning," Harry argued, "I have no idea what they can or can't do."

Dudley seemed to consider this for a moment, before his eyes narrowed and he turned his attention back towards the trapdoor.

"To hell with it," Dudley grumbled, "Whatever's behind this door, it must be better than sitting around and reading."

Yanking open the door, Dudley hopped back as the trapdoor thudded against the carpets and a yawning opening was revealed in the floor. When nothing nightmarish came charging up at them, Harry and Dudley carefully edged up to the opening and looked down into it. Beyond the opening was a simple, narrow, cement staircase that led down into another, darkened room, though the pair could tell it had concrete floors and walls similar to the room they were in.

"Door to Hell, my arse," Dudley muttered with a dismissive snort before he began making his way down the steep staircase.

"Dudley, I don't think-" Harry began to say in a nervous tone.

"Look, I don't care what you think!" Dudley snapped as he glared at Harry, "You can stay up here and piss your pants for all I care. I'm going down!"

With that Dudley turned and marched down the stairs, leaving Harry to glare after him. Then, letting out a sigh, Harry followed Dudley into the dark basement.

With only the dim light coming in through the opening above providing illumination, all the boys could see of the room were four tables, three against the walls not occupied by the stairs, and one at the center of the room.

"Ugh, I can't see anything in here," Dudley grumbled as he slowly moved into the room, "And of course, I'm sure there's no lights in this stupid room."

"Probably not," Harry agreed, "Though I think I can just make out something that might help."

Shuffling carefully through the dark, Harry made his way over to one of the tables. After a few moments of quiet movement, light entered the subbasement as Harry struck a match. Holding the match in one hand, Harry brought it up to the kerosene lantern he had in the other and used the small flame to ignite the light source. As a good size flame sprang to life in the lantern, it illuminated the room with a dim, shadowy light.

Looking around the room, Harry and Dudley could see that the tables they had spotted earlier were largely bare, the smooth wooden tops clear of any obtrusions. The same could not be said for the shelves that hung from the walls above the tables. Most of the shelfspace was occupied by containers of every description, from boxes, cans and jars to cages and plastic tupperware. The boys also noticed stranger things, like a pair of antlers and a few fur pelts. Strangest of all though was the skull.

Sitting on one of the shelves, flanked by paperback novels and scented candles, the skull seemed to stare down at the boys with its empty eye sockets, the bone a bleach white in color with its jaw still full of all its teeth.

"Do you think it's real?" Harry muttered, not taking his eyes off the skull.

"No way," Dudley dismissed with a snort, "That's totally fake."

There was a quiet beat as the boys continued to stare at the skull.

"Grab it, I'll show you," Dudley said as he shoved Harry in the back, causing him to stumble towards the skull.

Sparing a moment to shoot a glare back at Dudley, Harry focused his gaze on the skull and cautiously approached it. Once he was close enough, Harry slowly reached his arms towards the skull, his hands on either side of the object. Harry hesitated for a moment, his hands inches away from the skull, expecting something horrible to happen the moment he touched it. Then, with a final, calming breath, Harry grabbed the skull and lifted it off the shelf.

Bringing the skull down to eye level, Harry looked it over. It was worn and cracked in a few places and had begun to yellow with age, but was otherwise ordinary. What Harry also realized was that it was absolutely not fake.

"Dudley," Harry said as his cousin walked up next to him, "I'm pretty sure this is real."

"Figures a creepy git like Dresden would have a real skull in his secret basement," Dudley commented as he reached over and took the skull from Harry.

"Alas, poor Yorrick," Dudley said in an overly dramatic voice as he held the skull up with one hand, "I knew him well."

Suddenly, as Dudley held the skull, a pair of small orange lights appeared in the eye sockets and focused on the boy like glowing eyes.

"Actually," the skull said with a refined British accent, its jaw flapping as it talked, "The line is "I knew him, Horatio,""

A quiet fell over the subbasement as Harry and Dudley stared at the skull in shock.

"What?" the skull questioned in confusion, "Was it something that I said?"

With that, Dudley and Harry let out screams of fear, prompting the skull to begin screaming as well. Instinctively, Dudley tossed the skull onto the table at the center of the room while he and Harry retreated as far as they could from it.

"Hey!" the skull said indignantly, "Be careful! I'm fragile!"

"What is it!?" Dudley questioned frightfully, "Is it a ghost!?"

"I-I don't know!" Harry answered with a panicked voice.

"No, I'm not a ghost!" the skull spat as it righted itself and pivoted to face the boys, "If you must know, I am a spirit of intellect."

"A-A spirit of intellect?" Harry inquired.

"Yes, as in a spirit built from the essence of knowledge," the skull explained, "My name is Bob."

"Your….your name is Bob?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes," the skull, Bob, replied before glancing between the boys, "Who are you people? Are you thieves? Are you here to steal me!?"

"Why would we steal you?" Dudley questioned.

"I would have you know that I am extremely valuable," Bob answered with a tone of offense, "Now who are you, you subpar thieves?"

"Well, I'm Harry Potter," Harry replied as he gestured between his cousin and himself, "And this is Dudley Dursley."

"Wait, did you say, Harry Potter?" Bob questioned, the skull rocking forward slightly in a show of interest, "As in the Harry Potter?"

"Uh, yeah?" Harry replied awkwardly.

"Interesting," Bob mused, "Very interesting. And what has brought you here, Harry Potter?"

Bob paused as he glanced over at Dudley.

"And friend?" Bob added.

"Cousin," Dudley corrected heatedly.

"Whatever," Bob replied as the lights in his eye sockets rolled.

"To, uh, answer your question," Harry spoke up, bringing Bob's attention back to him, "We're here so that Mr. Dresden can protect us."

"Protect you?" Bob questioned, "From what?"

"We're uh, not sure," Harry admitted.

"But whatever it was, it killed my parents!" Dudley snarled, "With magic!"

"Oh, well, that does sound bad," Bob observed, "How'd it happen?"

"...I'm not sure," Harry admitted, surprised by Bob's callousness, "I….I didn't really see it happen."

"Well, that's not very helpful," Bob sighed, "How am I supposed to tell you what spell it was if you can't give me any details?"

"Wait, you know about magic?" Dudley questioned in surprise.

"Hello?" Bob replied, his tone indicating he thought little of Dudley's intelligence, "Magic talking skull inhabited by a spirit of intellect, remember?"

"You're willing to help us?" Harry inquired, "Just like that?"

"Of course," Bob answered, "What good is having knowledge if you don't share it with people?"

"Could you teach Harry magic?" Dudley asked as he pointed at Harry, "He's a wizard, after all."

"Oh, of course," Bob replied gleefully, "I have tutored some of the greatest wizards of all time. Also, Harry Dresden."

"Wait, you want this skull to teach me magic?" Harry asked as he looked at Dudley in confusion.

"Sure, why not?" Dudley replied with a shrug, "I want to see what this magic business is all about and I'm sure that prat Dresden isn't going to show you how."

"You would be willing to teach me?" Harry inquired as he looked at Bob.

"Well, yes, but everything comes at a price," Bob answered.

"What could a bloody talking skull possibly want as payment?" Dudley questioned as he looked at Bob in confusion.

Bob didn't immediately reply to this, but Harry could have sworn that the skull was somehow grinning broadly at the two of them.

Meanwhile,

After pulling into the parking lot of the Madison, Dresden made his way around to the front of the building, where he found Murphy waiting for him.

"I was starting to wonder if you had gotten lost," Murphy commented as Dresden walked up to her.

"Sorry, traffic was killer," Dresden answered with a shrug, "So, what is it you needed me to see?"

At this question, Murphy seemed to grow uncomfortable, which caught Dresden off guard.

"Everything okay, Murph?" Dresden questioned with a mixture of trepidation and concern.

"I need you to look at some bodies, Dresden," Murphy finally answered.

"Bodies?" Dresden repeated, blinking in surprise, "You mean like dead bodies?"

"Yes, Dresden, dead bodies," Murphy snapped, "Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, sure thing, Murphy," Dresden quickly answered, holding his hands up defensively as he spoke, "It's just you've never brought me in on anything like this before."

"I know," Murphy replied with a sigh, "But I really need your help on this one, Dresden."

Dresden nodded in understanding before gesturing for Murphy to lead, following her as she entered the hotel. Together the pair crossed through the lobby and entered an elevator, riding it up to the seventh floor. As the elevator came to a stop, Dresden noticed Murphy take a deep breath before the doors opened and he was assaulted by the smell of blood.

Blinking his eyes as they began to water from the smell, Dresden followed Murphy as she led him down the hall, passing by uniformed police officers who were guarding the elevator doors. They quickly reached the open door to a hotel room, the smell of blood only growing stronger as they went. The door led into a hotel suite, with Dresden being greeted by a sitting room done in rich reds and golds. Furniture covered in dark leather was scattered about the room and the floor was covered in rust colored shag carpet. The velvet curtains were drawn, with the room illuminated by lamps set up around the area.

"Wait here a minute," Murphy said before she walked through a doorway to the right.

As he waited, Dresden glanced around the sitting room, noting the champagne sitting in a bucket almost full of melted ice, the pair of empty champagne glasses flanking it on the coffee table, the rose petals scattered across the floor leading to the door Murphy had disappeared through, and the torn pair of lacy woman's underwear sitting halfway under one of the leather chairs.

"Welcome to the love suite, Dresden," said a light, nasal voice.

Turning towards the sound of the voice, Dresden found a middle-aged man with Caucasian features, beady brown eyes and balding, brunette hair in the room with him. The man was short and overweight, dressed in a rumpled brown jacket over a light green, button-up shirt and brown slacks. Dresden noted food stains on the man's navy blue tie.

"Detective Carmichael," Dresden greeted, "I was wondering where you were. I already talked with your partner."

"Yeah, she was just telling me how you're here to waste more of the department's money," the man, Carmichael, observed with a snort, "If I was you Dresden, I would beat it. This case is out of your league."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Dresden countered evenly.

"Fine, have it your way," Carmichael countered as he gestured towards the door Murphy had gone through before nodding towards the coffee table, "You might want to grab that bucket though. I think you're going to need it."

With a roll of his eyes, Dresden marched past Carmichael and went through the door Murphy had walked through. Once he was inside though, Dresden immediately regretted his previous bravado.

The room was a bedroom, and followed the decor of the previous room with deep reds coloring the plush pillows and satin sheets. Candleholders were mounted on the walls, the crimson candles that had once been held in them having melted down to nubs, while the carpeting was identical to that of the previous room.

What immediately drew Dresden's attention though were the two corpses laying on the bed at the center of the room. One of the corpses was that of a beautiful young woman with short, chestnut colored hair, Caucasian features, and a slim physique. The other corpse was that of a man in his forties, with Caucasian features, a muscular physique, and short-cropped black hair. The man's knuckles were covered with scars, and there was the mark of a knife wound that could be seen on his abdomen, along with the tattoo of a winged dagger on his right bicep.

The pair looked like they had been in the middle of making love, with the woman astride the man, the woman laying with her back bent while the man still had his hands grasping the sheets. The erotic scene was ruined however by the fact that both of their ribcages had been torn open from the inside above where their hearts would be, the bones jutting jaggedly out of their torsos. Blood spray covered the room, including the mirrors that hung above the bed, enough to soak the surrounding carpet. Glancing around, Dresden spotted a tux and a sheer black dress that had been discarded onto the floor, along with a pair of unused overnight bags.

Looking over his shoulder, Dresden saw Murphy and Carmichael looking at him expectantly, and he did his best to hide the look of recognition that was fighting to creep over his face.

"Well?" Murphy questioned as she arched a brow at Dresden, "Are we dealing with magic or not?"

"I-" Dresden began to answer but was cut off as he made a retching noise. Rushing out of the room, Dresden ran over to where the ice bucket still sat on the coffee table and fell onto his knees in front of it before emptying the contents of his stomach into it.

After a few moments, Dresden recollected himself and lifted his head away from the bucket, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, the taste of bile soaking into his tongue.

"I'll take that as a yes," Murphy commented as she walked over to Dresden, "You all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Dresden answered with a nod as he rose back to his feet.

"So, what can you tell me, Harry?" Murphy questioned as she pulled out a notepad and a pen while looking at Dresden expectantly.

"Okay, well as far as I kind figure, there's only two ways someone could have managed something like this," Dresden explained as he ran a hand through his hair, "The first is by evocation, which is the most direct and flashy kind of expressed magic, or what people would call sorcery. Fireballs, lightning bolts, that sort of thing. But I doubt that's what happened here."

"Why's that?" Murphy inquired, writing as she spoke.

"Because with evocation you have to be able to see or touch what you want to throw your spell at," Dresden elaborated, "Whoever did this would have had to have been in the same room as the victims. There's no way they could have done it without leaving evidence for your CSIs to find. It would be easier to use a gun."

"What's the other option?" Murphy asked.

"Thaumaturgy," Dresden answered, "If you make something happen by doing it on a small scale and add energy to it, you can make it happen on a larger scale. As above, so below."

"What a load of bullshit," Carmichael said with a dismissive snort.

"How would that work?" Murphy questioned as she looked at Dresden skeptically, "Could it be done from somewhere else?"

"Yeah," Dresden replied with a nod, "The killer would need something that would connect them back to the victims. Hair, fingernails, blood samples. That sort of thing."

"So, like a voodoo doll?" Murphy guessed.

"Yes, exactly," Dresden confirmed.

"Well, the woman has fresh dye in her hair," Murphy observed, "Someone might have gotten a lock of her hair that way."

"Could have been," Dresden agreed with a shrug.

"Is there anything else you can tell us, Harry?" Murphy inquired.

"Yeah," Dresden confirmed with a nod, "I'm pretty sure the killer knew the victims."

"I can't believe we're listening to this shit," Carmichael said with a shake of his head, "You know that nine of ten murder victims knew their killers."

"Shut up, Carmichael," Murphy ordered as she shot a glare at her partner which brokered no argument. Carmichael looked unhappy with this but said nothing more.

"What were you saying, Harry?" Murphy questioned as she turned her attention back towards Dresden.

"Magic works by drawing energy from inside you," Dresden explained as he placed a hand to his chest, "To do it, you have to truly believe in what you are doing. To do what happened in that room, the killer must have wanted them dead for personal reasons. Revenge maybe. And when they died, they were in the middle of having sex. That's not a coincidence. Emotions are kind of a channel for magic. The killer picked a time when they'd be together and all charged up with lust. So the killer had samples to use as a focus and figured out the victims' schedule. You don't do that unless you're invested."

"Is there anything you can tell me about this spell?" Murphy asked.

"Not much beyond what I can piece together here," Dresden replied with a shake of his head.

"Some wizard you are," Carmichael observed with a derisive snort.

"Sorry I haven't felt the need to look into how to make someone's heart explode from across town," Dresden snapped as he glared at the detective.

"How long do you think it would take you to figure it out?" Murphy inquired.

"I don't know," Dresden answered with a shrug, doing his best not to look at Murphy as he spoke, "I can't put a timer on this stuff, Murph. I have no idea where to even start with researching this."

"At fifty bucks an hour, you had better figure it out," Carmichael spat.

"Ron," Murphy spoke up, "I could really use some coffee right about now."

"Aw come on, Murph!" Carmichael complained as he turned to look at Murphy, "This guy is jerking us around! You don't really believe any of this crap, do you?"

Turning her attention towards Carmichael, Murphy locked eyes with him, her expression impassive.

"No cream, two sugars," Murphy stated firmly.

"Damnit," Carmichael spat, shooting a glare at Dresden before stalking out of the room.

"So, can I ask a few questions now?" Dresden asked.

"Sure," Murphy agreed as she walked over to the door Carmichael had exited through and closed it, putting away her notepad and pen in the process.

"Who are these people?" Dresden questioned as he nodded towards the bedroom where the bodies lay.

"The woman's name was Jennifer Stanton," Murphy answered as she walked back over to Dresden, "She worked for the Velvet Room."

"The Velvet Room?" Dresden echoed, an impressed look on his face, "As in the high-class escort service?"

"The very same," Murphy confirmed with a nod, "Do you think this could be some territorial dispute?"

"I don't think so," Dresden replied with a shake of his head, "I mean, if someone wanted to hurt the Velvet Room, wouldn't it be better to just kill the girl and leave the john alive? That way word gets around that it's dangerous to visit the Velvet Room, and they get hurt that way too. Who's the guy?"

"Tommy Tomm," Murphy answered, "John Marcone's bodyguard."

"As in Gentlemen John Marcone?" Dresden questioned as his eyes went wide, "Chicago's own Kingpin of Crime? That Marcone?"

"The very same," Murphy confirmed with a grim nod.

"Well, I guess he's going to need a new bodyguard," Dresden observed.

"So it would seem," Murphy agreed with a nod.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Dresden inquired.

"Run down the hairstyle angle, I guess," Murphy answered with a frustrated sigh as she shook her head, "I'll try to talk to Marcone and someone at the Velvet Room, but I can already guess what they're going to say."

Murphy fell silent as she thought over her options.

"Hey, Harry?" Murphy spoke as she looked at Dresden pointedly, "You know how you said you don't think you can replicate the spell the killer used?"

"Yeah?" Dresden replied hesitantly.

"I know it's bullshit," Murphy stated plainly, "Why are you lying to me?"

"Look, Murph," Dresden said with a shake of his head, "There's some lines I can't cross."

"I get what you mean, Harry," Murphy replied with a look of understanding, "I don't like getting into these scumbag's heads either. But we need to do this to get the job done."

"No, Murphy, that's not what I mean," Dresden stated grimly, "There are things at play here that you don't understand. Dangerous things. With things as they are now, I can't do this."

"Oh my God," Murphy whispered in shock, "You know something that you're not telling me."

"Shit," Dresden muttered under his breath, "Look, Murphy, this murder is wrapped up with something bigger than you know."

"Of course I don't know," Murphy snarled as her brows furrowed in anger, "You're not telling me about it! I should arrest you right now for obstruction of justice!"

Narrowing his eyes, Dresden prepared to start arguing, but before he could a commotion from the hall caught both their attentions.

"Sir!" a muffled voice called, "Sir, this is an active crime scene! You can't come in here!"

"Ye don't understand!" a deep, accented voice replied, "I think I know wot 'appened in there!"

Blinking in confusion, Dresden quickly made his way towards the door, Murphy hot on his heels. Opening the door and stepping into the hall, Dresden found Hagrid standing a short distance away, arguing with the police officer who had been guarding the crime scene.

"Hagrid?" Dresden questioned as he looked at the giant man in confusion.

"Dresden?" Hagrid asked with an equally confused look, "What are ye doin' 'ere?"

"I'm working," Dresden replied as he pointed at himself before he gestured at Hagrid, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm stayin' in the hotel," Hagrid explained.

"They put you up in the Madison?" Dresden questioned incredulously, "I'm going to have to remember that when I calculate my fee."

"Dresden, who is this?" Murphy demanded as she looked up at him while pointing at Hagrid.

"Oh, uh, this is Rubeus Hagrid," Dresden answered uncertainly, "He's an, uh, acquaintance I made recently."

"I see," Murphy replied as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Dresden before turning her attention towards Hagrid, "Sir, can I ask what you're doing here?"

"Oh, well, ye see, I was just passin, by, is all," Hagrid explained, "When I got a feelin'."

"A feeling?" Murphy repeated as she arched an eyebrow, not noticing as Dresden began shaking his head at Hagrid.

"Aye, like a chill running down my spine," Hagrid explained, "I encountered it once before."

"A chill?" Murphy inquired with a note of interest, "Are you some kind of….magic practitioner, perhaps?"

"Ye, er, know about 'at?" Hagrid questioned as he blinked in surprise.

"It's why I work with Mr. Dresden, here," Murphy replied as she gestured to the wizard before shooting a glare at him, causing Dresden to freeze for a moment, "When he feels like cooperating, that is."

"Uh, well, in 'at case, not a full one, no," Hagrid admitted with an awkward expression, "I can do some magic though."

"Interesting," Murphy observed as Dresden continued trying to catch Hagrid's eye by shaking his head, "And where did you feel this chill before?"

"Little Whinging, Surrey," Hagrid explained, "I er, came across a pair of dead bodies. Murdered bodies 'at is."

"I see," Murphy commented as she pulled out her notepad and pen while Dresden emphatically motioned for Hagrid to be quiet, "And how were these victims killed?"

"Their, uh, their 'earts were ripped out of their chests," Hagrid answered, his face going pale, "It was-"

"Stop!" Dresden interrupted, doing his best to disguise it as a cough.

His eyes wide, Hagrid looked at Dresden before his eyes shifted to Murphy, who was quickly writing down everything he had said.

"Oh," Hagrid muttered as a look of realization crossed his features, "I shouldn't 'ave told you 'at."

A/N: Had some fun with this chapter, especially getting to introduce Bob. Hope you all enjoyed it as well! As always, feedback and critiques are always welcome, so please review! Later!