Disclaimer: I don't even need this here. I just put it here because it looks cool and makes me feel important /puffs out chest/ All the good writers put disclaimers. /hopeful eyes/ okay okay… on with the story! ---end rant—

"A call?" asked Hermione in disbelief.

"Yes, ma'am. A phone call."

"Oh bloody hell, you can't be serious?"

Nobody used the phone anymore… well… in the wizarding world, no one used the phone. Who would call her now? At bloody 12:32am? Especially in the Auror office?

"I'm very sure, ma'am. The "conjured phone" in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office that had just been recently transferred from Department of Magical Accident and Catastrophes, just rang. The messenger was uproarious and caused quite a scene when he didn't know what to do with it. I found him sitting on it to 'muffle the sound'…. He was afraid it was a malfunction of some sort and-"

"Who was it?" Hermione cut in impatiently. It was late, she was tired, and she had a bed waiting to be lain in.

"It was Arnold Peasegood; I have no idea what he'd be doing, as in Obliviator, personally delivering such an absurd muggle arti-"

"No, who was asking for me, you dolt?"

"Oh, well we didn't get the time to ask, Miss Granger-"

"Oh for the love of all that is good and spawns from Merlin, just give me the phone!"

He nodded quickly, and just as efficiently disappeared for about three seconds to retrieve a black box with numbers on it, it looked strangely familiar, yet foreign. She hadn't seen a telephone for ages.

"Here you go."

"All right, thanks," she sighed, "Sorry Ernie. I mean, for yelling at you. It's late-"

"No need for apologies, I understand." And Ernie dismissed himself without further ado.

She sighed, and looked at the little black box. Hermione Granger suddenly felt old. It seemed she was only 13… or was it 14? That she used one of these contraptions, she couldn't quite remember for what though- something to do with Harry… All of a sudden a small muffled voice interrupted her thoughts. It almost scared her. Then she remembered, of course, the phone! She quickly took the receiver in her left hand, holding it to her ear and heard the voice much clearer now,

"Hello? Hello?" The male voice asked.
"Hi." Hermione promptly replied, "May I he-"

"HEEERRRMMMIIIOOONNNEEEEE!" The voice screamed back.

What the hell? For a few ear-splitting seconds of the voice screeching that gave a slight ringing to her drums, she sat stunned. Then she realized who it was. The voice wasn't crying for help, but rather crying with excitement.

"My God," she said astonished, using the English Muggle term instead of Merlin, "Harry Potter."

"'Mione!" Came the response.

Hermione didn't know whether to be more surprised than angry. Then settled with something in between, "You called at 12:35? AM nonetheless?"

"Ahahaha! Yes, I'm sorry about that, 'Mione. It's 4pm over here in Los Angeles, and I just got to the hotel… I'm just so happy to hear you're voice again! You have no idea how bloody lonely it is in the Muggle world with Pansy and-"

"You're with Pansy?" Hermione said a little too rudely.

"Yeah, Department of Magical Games and Sports sent her with me, we're covering the Muggle game of basketball this season, remember? Lavender came too, they figured we should bring someone who's good at talking."

Hermione's mouth twitched upwards in a smile, "Okay, I'm sorry- Harry, but how the hell did you get this number?"

Harry started laughing again, "Oh, 'Mione, it's rather complicated, really."

"Long story?"

"Very."
"Skip it then," she said with a chuckle, brushing a hand through messy curls, gradually causing her hand to get stuck in it, "Oh brilliant," she muttered, trying to wrestle her hand back out of her snares that people called curls.

"What happened, 'Mione?"

"Nothing- nothing…." She continued muttering to herself though 'Brilliant… brilliant…' "So how was your trip?"

"Funny story, Herm." God, did she hate that nick name, but she didn't bother correcting him, her hand was still stuck in more important matters, literally. Harry continued talking, "You know how we're supposed to apparate to Diagon Alley and use the Floo Network?"

"Thought you were supposed to use the Floo down on the main floor of the Ministry…?"

"Yeah, well that would have been more logical, but you know me, I'm not really skilled in that area of expertise, like some." Harry replied pointedly which rewarded him with a smile he couldn't see from Hermione as he continued talking, "You heard there was something wrong with the Floo network lately, something about messing with the shipments of Floo dust and how people tampered with it so it twists you're words around… I didn't know it hadn't affected the Ministry, so I apparated instead."

"Okay, well makes sense too, I suppose." Hermione almost got her hand out of her head, but of course it wouldn't come easily, her hand was taking half her hair with it, "Ouch."

"Are you sure you're fine, 'Mione?"

"My hair. Got my hand- kind of… stuck. Forgot I didn't use a Detanglement spell on it this morning… sort of got some immunity to it, apparently."

Harry was struck with an image of Hermione have a fist fight with her hair, and laughed, "And you're supposed to be the logical one."

"Shut up, or I'll hang up." She gritted.

"All right, all right… I have 10 minutes left anyway."

"Okay, so you apparated instead…?" Hermione urged, trying to divert the subject from her warring hair.

"Oh yes, I apparated and ended up in Ron's bed. Wait! Before you ask how I apparated there, I have to tell you what Ron was doing." Harry started to chuckle, and Hermione waited patiently for him to calm down. "Hahaha… All right, all right… well, Ron was… er-hem… very busy. And he didn't like it much when I intruded in such personal moments. Can you guess what he was doing?" Harry was snickering.

Now, Hermione has several ideas of what Ron was doing judging from the choice of diction and tone Harry was using, and all ideas were quite revolting. Several images flashed through her head, one image in particular stopped in her head. 'Ron wouldn't where a tutu, would he?' she thought. 'Wait, Harry wouldn't hint at that, he'd just say it. Ronald was probably having a jolly good time in his nether regions.' Hermione concluded, although with a discomforting wrinkle of her nose.

"What?" Harry yelled.

"Huh?" asked Hermione, alarmed. There were some shuffles on the other line, a hand probably covering the mouth piece that Harry was talking in, and a few voices talking rapidly. A few moments later, Harry was back.

"Oh sorry, 'Mione, Pansy needed a quarter or something, and Lavender wanted to use the phone to call some television ad… something about a metal detector so she could run it over your head and see how many treasures she can find. ('Haha, very funny, Harry. No Hermione, it was some new make up product, I swear.' Hermione heard Lavender yell from the other side of their hotel room) Anyway, guessed yet?"

"First of all, my hand is out of my hair." (No, it wasn't) "And no, I don't think I want to guess."

"Well fine, I won't force you. Ron was… get ready for it Hermione," he snickered again, "He was kissing a picture of Pansy! Of all bloody people, Pansy! Ahahahaha!"

Hermione didn't know whether to be relieved or disgruntled. Harry on the other hand didn't know what to think about from her silence. He personally thought it was hilarious.

"Why, 'Mione?" he said mischievously, "What were you thinking?"

"Ew, nothing." She said a little too quickly.

"Right."

Hermione could almost hear him smirking.

"What might you be suggesting, Harry? That I'm thinking about Ron in a tutu?"

"Mm. Never mind." Harry sounded disappointed.

"What? What am I supposed to be thinking?" Hermione inquired innocently.

"I keep forgetting, Virgin Hermione."

Hermione squinted her eyes and said with a poisonous malice, "Harry, I'm not the virgin, Ginerva is."

"Of course, you slept with Krum during 6th year."

"Shut up, Harry, Lavender might hear."

"Oh please, she's too busy watching the telly or messing with her hair. ('What

was that?' yelled Lavender over the phone, 'Viktor Krum and Hermione had sex?') No Lavender, I said Viktor's gay and enjoys anal sex! ('You don't say!') Anyway, who's Ginerva?"

"Ginny."

"Oh, right. Keep getting you two mixed up. Both of you are equally prudish."

"That's it. Good bye, Harry."

"Wait, haha, wait 'Mione. Sorry, it's just I hadn't talked with wizard civilization in awhi-"

"What about Lavender and Pa… yeah, true, Pansy and Lavender aren't really considered civilization, are they?"

"Right."

"So how'd you apparate to Ronnie's house?"

"Well, funny thing. I was thinking about the Diagon Alley's boy's bathrooms while I apparated, because that's what you're supposed to do, think of the place you need to apparate and have a clear vision. Well Pansy comes along right when I started clearing my head, and right before I started to disappear she asks me, 'Harry, have you seen my orange thong?' and then well, for some reason a picture of Ron's orange bed appeared and before I could stop it POP"

"You think of Ron's bed when you think of orange thongs? I don't know… sounds sort of…"

"Gay?" Harry finished with a smirk, "Nah, I found Ron had a collection of girl thongs in his closet. ('Maybe Ron and Krum should hook up?' suggested Lavender sincerely.) Lavender, if you want in on the conversation, there's another phone by the stand over there," Harry replied with annoyance.

"Why does he have thongs in his closet? Wait- don't answer that question."

"'Mione!" Said Harry with such astonishment that Hermione nearly jumped, "You forgot, he was kissing," he lowered his voice, "a poster-sized picture of Pansy."

"Doesn't that still make him gay?"

Harry sighed, "'Mione. Be nice."

"You're the one invading people's private lives, Harry." Hermione stretched her fingers that were still entangled in her hair, "Besides," she continued, "There is nothing wrong with Ron being gay."

"'Mione."

"Yes?"

"You forget that Lavender is queen of gossip next to Parvati. If this let's loose you'll be getting a phone call from Ron and I'm sure he'll find a way to curse you through the phone." Harry glowered, his voice low.

"So he is, then?"

"NO! I'm just saying making false accusations isn't the brightest of things, Herm!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the nickname he called her and retorted lightly, "Harry, you're preaching me on how bright I am."

There was a pause at the other end of the line, "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Haha, sorry Herm."

"Could you stop calling me Herm? It sounds like hermaphrodite."

"Oh, of course. You should have told me it was bothering you. ('What's bothering her? She made Krum gay huh? I knew she was a lousy lover.') Lavender, she could hear you. ('Oh. Hermione, dear, it was a joke!') Lavender, go do something else… like not listen to my conversation."

Hermione shook her head lightly, chiding the old Gryffindor friends then just remembered and said quickly, "Where's Pansy?"

"Outside, vending machine I think." (Slight pause as Hermione waits for Harry to think of what she's thinking) "Oh no."

"Yeah, she's been gone for awhile."

"Right, catch you later on then, 'Mione." Hermione smiled at the new nickname and Harry continued, "I have to make sure Pansy knows which slot to put the quarter in. See you! ('Bye Hermione!')"

Hermione waited for the receiver to 'click' at the other end and then followed suit. She then took out her wand from her wrist pocket, a pocket she customized so the wand would always be in accessible and east to get to when she called to it at her will, and sighed. Hermione always used her right hand for spells except one time during 7th year when Ron "accidentally" dropped Hogwarts: A History onto her right arm, and she was forced to use her left arm for two weeks because Madam Pomfrey was off vacationing in Romania and the substitute witch on duty didn't know the difference between Swelling Solution and Wartcap Powder, and Professor Snape had suggested a firey concoction that looked like it would burn a hole through Hermione's stomach and send her to hell before it fixed her arm, so she used her left arm for spells, and that didn't work out too well.

Scrunching her eyes in determination she raised the Vine Wood and Dragon Heartstring wand towards her hair and said a bit high pitched, "Incendio."

All of a sudden, her hair seemed to have formed a shield of some kind, or a barrier that was bluish-red and glowing. She could feel her arm stuck in her hair still, so it just seemed to be some minor default. She'll just make the shield go away.

Waving her wand a little with a swish and flick, she said clearer, "Finite Incantatum." Only to have a huge burst of energy bounce off the shield and blast a wall opposite her seat.

"AHHHHH!"

Hermione closed her eyes tightly as she heard several spells of Reparo and "are you all right?" from the other side of the hall.

"S-Sorry, Neville!" yelled Hermione, "I'll pay for whatever I broke."

"No harm done, Miss Granger! Just a minor concussion for Ron Tywhither, a few broken ribs on two house elves, and my office is completely on fire! Don't worry about it!" her fellow Auror agent, Neville Longbottom, yelled cheerfully.

"MISS GRANGER!" A voice yelled from the hallway, Hermione could see from err… what used to be her door but was now a huge gaping hole, a few men in white suits with the symbol of St. Mungo's Hospital on their sleeve rush by with a cot between them, followed by two reporters, and then a very enraged Rodwood Cease, the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and fellow graduate from Hogwarts (he was in Hufflepuff), who stopped right in front of her desk.

"Yes, Mr. Cease?" Hermione said timidly.

"There is not one moment of rest in this blasted place, is there?"

"No, Sir." Hermione replied calmly, trying to look as serious as possible with a red and blue bubble around her head.

"We were having a tour of the ministry for the local papers about how everything is under control, and you just had to blast a hole through the wall while we were walking down the Auror corridors? Now instead of the reporters reporting about how wonderful it is here, they're reporting how we encourage homicide and explode things to oblivion! Thank goodness St. Mungo's doctors from the main floor downstairs heard the blast and apparated as soon as they did. I'd expect this from my department, but not the Magical Law Enforcement!"

Hermione nodded, "There's always a chance to obliviate them," she suggested.

Rodwood stared her down for a moment, and then shook his head, "Figures. Aurors know only how to destroy, this is appropriate. I'll just tell him we're just having another drill…" He looked at her again, and asked, "And what, by the beard of Merlin, is that around your head?"

"I don't know."

"It looks like a Protego."

"I figured it was, after my Finite Incantatum bounced off my head…" Rodwood looked confused but Hermione continued, "I swear I said Incendio… but I suppose since Protego rhymed with Incendio my want might have misinterpreted it…"

"You aimed a fire curse at your HAIR?"

"Well, my hand couldn't get out of the new form of Devil's Snare," she pointed at her hair, "and my left arm's not good with spells, Sir." Hermione tried to explain.

"That explains why your wand got confused. I swear, Hermione, you really should come with a warning label: 'May commit genocide within 50 feet at random.'"

"I appreciate the compliment," retorted Hermione. ("It wasn't a compliment." Rodwood muttered) "But, I really have to go see my head of department at the moment, and my hand's sort of stuck, and there's an office next to me set aflame, and you're here preaching me about fire curses and warning labels. So…" Hermione got up, and swung a cloak about her shoulders with her free left arm, "If you excuse me, I'll have to check on my office mates for a moment."

"Wait a tad."

Hermione sighed and turned to face the former Hufflepuff, "Look, Rodwood, I know I ruined your day, but can't I get a raincheck on the lectures? I'll promise to take notes," Hermione's voice was soft.

Rodwood scratched his head, "Actually, I planned on recommending you use scissors. My mum, who's half muggle, suggested that if magic doesn't work, the manual way always does."

Hermione smiled tiredly, "Thank you."

"Anytime. May I also suggest that you remain away from magic until you wand arm works properly?"

The young witch nodded and then walked back to her desk and fumbled in her desk drawer for a pair of old scissors she had since 6th grade and kept as a keepsake. She put the scissors up to her hair and said with a vengeance, "For England," and clipped off the bushy mass holding her hand captive ceremoniously through the shielding. Hermione could have sworn she heard her hair whimper in protest. Her hair now looked uneven but her hand was free and the Protego she had accidenly casted now was gone. Hermione carefully picked up the trimmed snarls and planned to burn them in the fire that they caused, but had a better idea and put them in Rodwood Cease's hand.

"You're my witness."

Rodwood looked confused, "What am I supposed to do with them?" He inspected Hermione's hair suspiciously, as if it might blow up.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively, "Plant them or something. I'm sure they'll grow into something spectacular."

She carefully stepped over some fallen debris as she rolled her shoulder and stretched her now freed right arm. It seemed that the doctors already used a portkey back to the hospital because only two reporters and a very aggravated and provoked looking attractive young man stood in the middle of the damaged and recently extinguished room.

"Yes, yes, it's wonderful you work for Luna Lovegood from The Quibbler, and I know we graduated together, but my office is in really ill repair and I'd rather not comment on how I feel about that." The tall, athletic, fellow Auror agent of Hermione's looked very torn on whether to hex the correspondents or kill them and end his torture.

The reporters seemed to overlook his red bloodshot eyes, twitching fingers, and bared teeth as they continued enthusiastically,

"That is simply excellent, Mr. Longbottom, but how does that make you feel?"

"I have my office in complete disarray, a best friend in the hospital, I am responsible for injuries on two house elves, its 1am in the morning, my wife is in labor, and I nearly died. And yet, reporters have the nerve to ask me in the most pleasant of voices about how I feel about it all. HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL?"

The reporters looked unphased, "Oh, can you do that again? Except this time a bit slower, my camera didn't get the spittle flying from your lip."

Before Neville could successfully perform Crucio on the two unsuspecting citizens, Hermione gracefully intervened.

"Actually, this was a drill. The Magical Law Enforcement holds it once every year." Hermione said in know-it-all air, trying to find a fake story to give the reporters and lead them to safety before Neville showed them physically how he felt.

"You do/We do?" said the reporters and Neville said together.

"Yes, Neville, you're new so you wouldn't know."

"What in the bloody Hell are you talking about, Hermione? I've been working here for three years-"

"Of course, Neville's been working here three months!" Hermione chuckled, and clapped Neville on the back. "The young chap, gets worked up about everything."

The reporters nodded knowingly, "We witnessed that."

Neville looked fidgety, as if it took every ounce of willpower to not show them how "worked up" he could be.

"What exactly is this drill for?" the younger one of the two asked.

"Well, it's to make sure our emergency reflex is okay in case a real accident happens. As you saw, St. Mungo's was immediately on the scene." Hermione said smoothly.

"I see."

"So you're not saying an invisible Snorklak stampeded through here?" the older and balding correspondents in blue plush robes inquired.

Hermione blinked at him.

The older reporter gestured feebly about the room, "It's very obvious. Snorklaks can cause major destruction and leaves a blazing fire in their wake. You can also tell because there's a Snorklak footprint right here." The man pointed knowingly at what seemed to be a crushed wastebasket that a pillar had unceremoniously landed on but had already rolled off of, leaving the wastebasket with a huge crushed imprint of where the pillar was moments before. The younger correspondent gasped at the finding and immediately started taking pictures.

Hermione turned to Neville, who's brown bangs fell messily over his eyes from the sudden shot of stress. "Can people really be that daft?" she asked.

Neville had already started taking his wand out, "So when can we obliviate them," he whispered eagerly.

"No, no, we avoid obliviating when we can." Hermione replied, feeling slightly nauseated at how much the camera flashed.

"Excellent, I planned on killing them too." Neville licked his lips with an almost crazed anticipation.

"Not what I had in mind." Hermione weakly retorted. Then she whistled (something she was very proud of learning since she shrunk her teeth), getting the overly excited propaganda's attention, "That is not a Snorklak footprint." She said, annoyed, "The pillar obviously fell," she pointed at the marble pillar she destroyed earlier, "and rolled off the wastebasket. Snorklaks do not exist anyway, it has already been proven by scientists from nine countries."

The two reporters looked at each other then immediately started laughing,

"She thinks Snorklaks don't exist!" the younger one said in disbelief, "How daft can people be?" and their laughing grew louder.

"Yeah, let's obliviate them." Hermione said lowly.

"But-" Neville started protesting.

"No, they just insulted 9 of the most prestigious scientists, me, and books in one breath. Anyone who could do that is asking to be obliviated."

"I still say we kill them," Neville grumbled.

The last thing the two reporters heard was "Obliviate!" and a bright flash engulfed their vision.

-- --

Hermione entered the Auror's head office a little past 1:15am later that night only to be greeted by a camera flash.

"Bloody hell." Hermione muttered, rubbing her eyes at the bright light, "First the reporters, now you."

Nathan Glash, Head of Auror Headquarters, smiled broadly at her, "Sorry, Miss Granger. You're always so prompt and for once you're lately I couldn't resist to take a picture of such a rare moment. I'd rather have my whole department blown to oblivion and burnt down than miss a moment like this!"

"Believe me, it already has." Hermione mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"Anyway! You called for me earlier." The bushy-haired woman said, smoother diverting the topic.

"Ah yes! I have a new op set up for you!"

"Oh, a mission?" said Hermione with surprise, and immediately conjured two mugs of coffee and a plate biscuits and sat down across from her boss.

"Yes, well make yourself at home." He said, rolling his eyes, "This one is very important. Now listen carefully. You and I both know how much this department is going downhill. Since your brother, Harry Potter, destroyed he-who-is-no-longer-living, many dark wizards are all disappearing. There's no stopping it, we've already lost even though we won. Aurors are nearly extinct now."

"But-"

"No protests. You know it's true. I figured, if we're going down, we're going to have to take all the dark wizards with us. You catch my drift?"

"Skip the small talk, Nathan."

"Ah, always m'gel, getting straight to business and skipping the foreplay."

Hermione sipped her coffee as if she didn't hear him.

"I have a proposition. It requires time, effort, determination, talent, and challenges both your morality and sanity."

"Done."

"You didn't hear what it was."

"I told you," said Hermione, setting her coffee down, "It's done."

"Hermione, you realize you're now eternally bound to this mission…" he coughed, "Until you finish it."

"Well, you apparently believe I can do the operation, so I'll do it."

"You're the only one who can do it." He muttered, but Hermione didn't hear him.

"So what is it this time? Do I have to kill a few people? Ruin someone's life, hex someone until they're mentally and physically insane?" she asked casually, leaning comfortably in the lounge chair.

"Slightly more complicated than that," replied Nathan as if he was putting a lot of thought into it.

"Okay, so what am I in for?"

"You have to sleep with the dark wizard."

Hermione blinked.

"Okay… I suppose I kill him afterwards. It's not too bad to give someone a night in Heaven before giving them an eternity in hell." Hermione nodded in deep thought, "So which dark wizard is it? Nott? Mullicent? I was never fond of sleeping with another woman, but I guess this could be an exception… How about Crabbe or Goyle? But I heard they were horrible clumsy in the bedroom…"

Nathan had cast Protego as well as a few other shields around choice furniture and about the walls as well as a Silencio while she was speaking.

"What are you doing?" inquired Hermione.

Nathan surveyed the room approvingly before saying in a perfectly calm voice, "Actually, Hermione," he said in a reasoning tone, "I said the dark wizard not a dark wizard."

"Voldemort already is dead."

Nathan didn't know whether or not he cringed at the name or cringed because of what he said next. "He-who-is-no-longer-living was the evil wizard. The dark wizard… is Draco Malfoy."

Hermione blinked. "You're not serious are you?"

Somewhere in a hotel in Los Angeles, California, Harry Potter, Lavender Brown, and Pansy Parkinson heard a voice.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Pansy looked up towards the east in alarm from watching the television, Lavender stopped applying her make up and followed Pansy's example, and Harry ran out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist.

"Was that Hermione, just now?" They asked together.

Back in England, Hermione surged so much power through her wand it had snapped in half, but luckily the killing curse didn't work since she didn't the swish flick of the incantation. But a deafening blast erupted and white light practically repainted the headquarters. When the smoke cleared, the room was still intact but Hermione has pounced on Nathan, and even the Protego he cast wasn't meant to shield against the wrath or Hermione Granger,

"You toad! You spawn of Professor Snape! You conniving, evil, malicious, Snorklak! Bat Bogey Hex, Incendio, Crucio, Imperio, AVADA KEDAVRA!" Of course none of these spells worked from the now snapped wand, the wand just sort of sparked.

"Her-Her- Hermione!" Nathan managed through her cat-clawing and hair pulling.

"DIE!"

"Petrificus Totallus!" Immediately, Hermione became as straight as a board. But her eyes glared so hard that Nathan jumped back.

"Merlin." Nathan started a few minutes later after Hermione stopped glaring, "Even with Silencio, I swear they heard your yelling in Africa." He sipped some coffee that Hermione conjured moments before, to 'calm his nerves' before continuing, "Accio Hermione's wand," as soon as he finished his sentence, the top half of what was remnant of Hermione's wand flew into his hand. "Err… Accio whatever-is-left-of-Hermione's-wand!" the other half flew into his hand as well. "Bind." he said to the Vinewood Dragonstring turned weapon just in case Hermione could summon her wand back with her eyes.

"Now," he began, "If I release you, will you not try to claw me to death, or attack me with any attempt to kill or hurt me?"

Hermione just stared.

"Blink once if that's a yes."

Hermione glowered.

"Oh, come on Hermione, stop being so stubborn!"

After a few split seconds she finally obliged and blinked once.

"Finite Incantatum!" Before Hermione could open her mouth she heard, "Bind hands and legs!" and suddenly she felt her hands being cuffed together as well as her legs, then a Wingardium Leviosa gently seated her in the chair she previously sat in.

"It's a precaution, Hermione. After that stunt you pulled, I'm not too fond of seeing it again." And he renewed all the shields around the room.

"You have the nerve," she began angrily, "to ask me to sleep with the little ferret?"

"Well, Hermione, let me explain."

"Couldn't you yet Parkinson to do it? Or Harry?" Hermione seemed to be counting to 10 over and over in her head in a poor attempt to calm herself.

"One, Pansy and Malfoy are best friends, and from what I hear, both pale at the thought when someone asks if they're a couple." Before Hermione could protest, Nathan continued, "Two, this is a Draco/Hermione fanfiction not a Draco/Harry, and as much as we love to entertain that couple, Draco would more likely hex Harry if he so much as enters his room."

Hermione glared.

"Don't glare at me, my penname isn't yoshi09."

"I don't care what your penname is. But if you don't get me out of this, you'll be penning down your will."

"Hermione," Nathan said reasonably, "Even if I do die, you'll still be bound to the mission."

She replied angrily from her seat across from Nathan, "I might as well commit suicide."

"Then you'll wander the lands as an Auror ghost, because the mission follows you after death until you complete it, and from what I know, it's hard to carry a child when dead."

"WHAT? You want me to breed more of the Malfoy ferret kind?" Nathan dodged her tackle easily (she was bound by cuffs on both arms and legs after all) and she landed in a jumbled heap behind his desk. Another Wingardium Leviosa sent her back into the chair

"Okay, look, I know you aren't very happy right now-"

"Lucky guess." She gritted.

"But please hear the rest of the mission."

"Fine."

"And don't try to input your thought, because you'll have to do this anyway."

Hermione nodded trying to breathe in a calm, easy rhythm.

"We know for sure that Draco M. Malfoy is the last supremely influential Dark Wizard. He has the money, connections, the looks… God damn it he can run a mafia. So, I've compiled through unrelenting determination an op that would potentially take all dark magic off the shelves." He paused to drink a spot more of coffee and to clear his throat, "If you sleep with Malfoy and get pregnant with his child it'll do four things. 1) Force Malfoy to stay with you, which means a convert to the light side 2) Tell all dark wizards as a reassurance to follow suit 3) Get you close enough to Draco Malfoy to compile a personal dark wizard roster so any remaining more defiant of his minions can be tracked down and brought to justice and 4) Assure your safety because Malfoy would never kill and heir. No matter who's carrying it."

Hermione muttered something about shoving her broken wand up his buttock, but Nathan ignored it.

"Killing him isn't an option, it'll just cause more chaos. I also didn't want Pansy doing it because she's more likely to join Malfoy in his not so friendly charades than convert him, and all other girls I considered were either too frightened, easily swayed, or too enthralled by him. I realize how much you hate him, but you were the only girl I knew who took duty so seriously, and more likely to get the job done."

"So you chose me because I 'get the job done'? Did you consider he absolutely hates me, is purely bred on prejudiced opinions, and basks in darkness and the lap of luxury making him almost impossible to get too?" Hermione finally started thinking logically once more.

"Yes, yes, I considered them."

"Do you also forget he happens to have a strange fetish for torturing muggleborns?"

"I like to think that as a minor setback, 'Mione."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And what am I to do about these minor setbacks, hm?"

"I don't know actually. That's why I gave you the op, I'm sure you'll figure something out." And before Hermione could stop him, Nathan apparated with a pop.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: yay I'm done with the first chapter! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm soooo psyched aboutHarry Potter and the Halfblood Prince coming out today at midnight! I doubt I'll be able to update this story anytime soon courtesy of the book, but I just wanted to put the chapter up since I've been meaning to for sooo long. Besides, if I updated, no one would review since everyone's busy reading HP VI. So I'll update when I'm done reading. /cheers/

Side notes

First of all, before you guys start correcting me when Nathan Glash called Harry Potter Hermione's brother, or maybe how the characters seem a bit out of… err… character, I want to clear that up.

One, Hermione and Harry I've always looked at as being really close best friends, the closest you can be without being blood related. So, I purposely made it clear that in this fic there is no chemistry between them, and Nathan called HP Hermione's brother because it's pretty much a little side joke that Nathan, Hermione, and Harry have together. So that was intended.

Two, I figured that as you grow older, you meet lots of people, who potentially influence you're life. SO… Hermione and Harry can't stay teenagers forever, and therefore change a tinge… /sob/

Three, I also thought that since Voldemort is gone, and he was the supreme ruler of the dark wizards, that many of his minions either A) committed suicide B) started to (try to) lead a normal life C) are dead. And since Aurors are dark wizard catchers, and those guys are almost gone, it'll take out the Aurors too. I always suspected that the Auror Agency was a hard dep. to work for, which is why Hermione might seem stressed all the time, or might be a tinge meaner. -() Harry on the other hand, might seem more talkative, because I thought that since Harry is always pretty much working overseas (even though he is an Auror, he works mostly in different departments since Aurors have nothing else to do… and they do odd jobs until a mission is given to them) and Hermione never sees him, so they always do a lot of talking via Owlpost (or in this special case, phone ahaha). Ron, Hermione and Harry are still close friends, I reassure you, and I hope I'll give Ron a bigger part.

And Pansy, she's good friends with Harry and Ron, and Hermione is still a bit ify about her, not because of the fact she doesn't trust her, but because she suspects Pansy's only getting buddy-buddy with them because she wants to have a foursome or some other "sluttish" thing.

ALSO! One more thing. In case you don't know… Protego is a shielding charm that only protects against magic (hexes in particular), so anything else physical and not "magically-enhanced" can go through it (i.e. a pair of scissors).

Hope I cleared some questions! Review Please! Constructive criticism is a must, this is my first comedy fic

Also a special thanks to my "beta" and real life friend (and HP fanatic that keeps me updated on useless HP facts, even against my will /sigh/) Glenyce!

- yoshi09