As the elevator pinged, and opened, Hermione stalked down the hallway. She had to look powerful enough that people would feel uncomfortable staring at her for long, and stay quiet enough that she didn't draw attention to those not already looking. Of course, her long red dress and impressive heels weren't helping things, but there really was no other way to dress in one of the grandest hotels in Wizarding Europe. Though, having spent the last two nights there, she was pretty sure it topped everything muggle Europe had to offer as well.

With her wand strapped tightly to her leg- covered by a chameleon charm so people just-quite didn't see it- Hermione took a quick turn to the left as the corridor split. She glanced behind her, pleased that the hallway remained clear. When you were Hermione Granger, and in wizard territory, it wasn't unusual to have a couple of well meaning magic folk following you around. She learnt quickly to sympathise with Harry, and had also referred to herself as 'Just-Hermione', several times before realising. Reaching the door number 3002, she stopped abruptly

Without hesitation, she deftly pulled a hair pin from her hair bun, though closer inspection would show this wasn't just any hair pin. In fact, if the various charms disguising it were lifted, one would see that it was a strange collection of metal pins, each of slightly different shapes with a slight hook on the end. These were tiny however, and whilst they were sat beneath a hair pin, were well hidden by her elaborate hair style. Which was, of course, entirely the point.

One more glance around, and Hermione got to work using the tools on the door in front of her. Something she was always proud of was that wizards always underestimated muggle technology. The door had hundreds of charms and enchantments on it to prevent any form of spell work or relics being used on it. Even waving your wand in an odd way near a door would send Security to your floor, if it wasn't your wand assigned to the room. It certainly made late night rendezvous more tricky, but it was common practice across hotels, so most people were used to it. It's the drunken ones who ended up with some nasty hexes.

In this particular hotel though, the doors had been sourced from the muggle world, as well as fitted by muggles. All of this was done before the magical enhancements were added, and of course, the muggles memories were altered when finished- with a nice surprise 'tip' from their mysterious client that allowed all working in the company to buy new cars and houses- but meant that there were still locks on the doors. It had stopped the hotel owners from placing a sticking charm on the door too. A fatal flaw in security, noticeable only by those familiar with the muggle world, and only those particularly observant.

With a small 'click', the door finally opened. Hermione felt a smirk grow on her features, satisfied with her quick work and mentally congratulating herself. She replaced the pin within her hair, and quickly rushed inside and closed the door, keeping the lights off, and allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark.

That was the easy part done. Now for the safe.

As she expected, by moving into the living room area she was greeted by the sight of a safe. Completely out of place in the otherwise sleek room, and atop a glass table that did not look like it would support the weight, she ignored the glorious panoramic views offered by the room itself, and processed what she would have to do to get the safe open.

It was quite large. Half a metre cubed in size, though judging on the size of the door it was probably half the size due to the width of the walls. This was usually for a number of reasons, most simply that it made to too heavy to move easily, but also made it quite tricky to drill through, or damage in anyway. Fronting the door, sat a complex looking old-school combination lock. Looking at the make though - muggle, of course - it was one that took a twelve digit combination, which was less than guessable. Running the numbers in her head, she had a 1 in 479001600 chance of guessing it. She would have to narrow those odds pretty quickly.

Now was the time for her wand, which she pulled out cautiously to cast a very gentle diagnostic charm.

OH.

Well that was simple.

'Alohamora', she muttered. With an awkwardly loud groan, the combination lock began twisting, left, right, left, again and again until it finally stopped.

Hermione reached forward to open the door slowly. This felt far too easy for usual, but there was no magical signature on the door at all. Either the impossible had been achieved- that magic could be hidden in its entirety- or it simply contained no magic. But why wouldn't it?

Swinging the door open, Hermione quickly understood why.

There, small, but angry, sat what she immediately recognised as a bomb.

Attached to the door had been a form of trip wire, and opening it set off the timer of three minutes, which blinked angrily at her in typically red digital writing.

Hermione laughed.

She quickly slapped a hand to her mouth to muffle the sound, but continued to chortle under her breath, her shoulders heaving up and down. To a bystander, this might be seen as insanity. Indeed, she seemed barely concerned by the countdown, too busy containing her own laughter. She twirled her wand between her fingers, her amused face never ceasing, and without any hesitation or further inspection, pointed it at the bomb.

Silently, a blue wire immediately severed, and the timer stopped.

Hermione found this even more funny. Still trying to remain relatively quiet, she continued to laugh until her eyes were watering and her sides were sore.

After wiping her eyes, she moved forward again and took the bomb out of the safe, placing it on the table beside it.

Underneath, lay, as she knew it would, not jewels, not money or relics, but a single letter, with H.J.G. emblazoned on the top.

She picked up the letter, a single piece of parchment folded in half, and ambled over to the sofa, plonking herself down and putting her feet immediately up on the coffee table.

'Aha!'

Someone exclaimed, causing Hermione to throw her letter to her side and dive for her wand. She was up in battle position, wand pointed towards the noise, a perfect fighting stance, eyes narrowing in the dark, without any hesitation, a number of curses ready to fly at any provocation.

'No! Oh you idiot look what you've done!'

The voices came from a room to the left, which Hermione knew from the schematics was the bathroom. A light came on in the open doorway, and she raised her wand higher.

A figure filled the doorway, quickly followed by a similarly built second figure. Both were gangly and tall, neither threatening, and one was glaring at the other. Adapting to the light, Hermione saw that both of them wore black from head to toe, including a black hat, with their hair tucked underneath.

'We've done this completely wrong, but we literally mean you no harm and just want to-'

'Wait a second, that's Hermione!'. One of the men flung their arm out to find a light switch, whereby light filled the whole flat, illuminating Hermione.

She did not lower her wand.

'Hermione, it's us! Its Fred and George!'

'No, it's George and Fred!'

'Shut up Gred'.

'No, you shut up Forge!'.

'Do those Legs really belong to Granger?'

'Definitely Granger, not sure she won't hex you for calling her Legs though.'

'Well you're the one who blew our cover!'

'Oh that's it, blame it on me just because I'm gorgeous'

'Gorgeous? Only when the even more gorgeous twin isn't stood next to you to show you up'.

'Oh rubbish Forge, at least I have both ears still!'

Hermione, by this point, had recognised her childhood friends. Although she couldn't understand why they were there, she did at least return her wand to its holster, and sit back down on the sofa.

'Fred. George. How are you both?' She asked, with a tentative smile. Their eyes snapped up to her, as if amid their argument, they'd forgotten she was there.

It was Fred who broke the two second stalemate, not by speech, but by action. He crossed the floor and swept her into a grand hug. In Weasley fashion, it wasn't just a normal hug, but he literally pulled her off of her feet, spinning her around and around until she couldn't help but giggle.

When he resettled her down on her feet, George was there smiling, and reached out to embrace her also, with a more subdued hug, just making sure he squeezed her extra tight, as if to make sure she was definitely there.

'Well Miss Granger, imagine our surprise that our mysterious new employee turns out to be our little brothers best friend!' George said, settling himself into an uncomfortable looking chair.

'New employee?', Hermione asked, staring at Fred until he sat down also.

'I have a feeling,' Fred said, shuffling in his seat, 'that the letter will explain much easier than we will.'.

That reminded Hermione of the matter at hand, and she lent over to retrieve the letter she'd worked so hard to achieve. Ignoring the two boys in front of her, she finally opened the letter.

My Dear Hermione

Congratulations! Did you manage to use magic on the safe? Or did you try the muggle way first? I wish I could have been there to see you. I've charmed this letter so that when you open it I'll be alerted. If you managed it in under ten minutes I'll be impressed. More than ten minutes.. I think I'd have to disown you. It's a pass/fail exercise after all.

Did you like the bomb? I thought it would cheer you up, remind you of the old days. Also, it might soften the fact that I'm not actually here to meet you, as well as provide a pretty impressive demonstration of your unconventional skills to your potential new employers.

I can practically see you frowning. I owe you an explanation, and they're sure to be with you shortly, so I'll make it pretty quick.

I was approached by the two owners of a popular company a while back, due to my history and schooling.

They wanted my input on various explosive inventions, trickery, and other things that we're well trained in. Unfortunately, I have quite a stable job at present with the French Ministry of Magic that comes with more freedom than they could offer me. Plus, I'd have to go back to England, which I don't fancy.

They asked if I could recommend anyone else for the role. I knew only one person as good as me.

So, have a chat with them. See what they can offer (the salary- double what we earned for that job in Egypt, and far less chance of could probably push it too, being a War Heroine in their country and all that). Let me know what you decide- the usual way. Oh and do make it a challenge, I managed the last one in six minutes. Either you underestimated me or you've lost your touch. Lets hope its the former.

See you soon,

Raven x

Hermione looked up at the pair sat in front of her, wondering what drew them to her cousin in the first place.

'So what do you say Legs?' Fred asked eagerly. 'Fancy being our new inventor?'.