Disclaimer: I'm not a forty something female with blonde hair who created the verse that is Harry Potter. I'm not JK in short.

Chapter one: A mission is set

Hermione bit back a groan as she regarded the piles of paperwork placed at random intervals along her desk, dotted with framed photographs or uncapped pens. She was always organized, sorting out her work in alphabetical order and filing them away neatly in her trusty old filing cabinet situated to the immediate right of her desk in a tuck away corner.

And the very next morning her office was back to it's jumbled up state, a heap load of folders and stapled paper dumped on her mahogany table, and sometimes even on the floor. The desk looked like it would break any minute and however amount of charms she placed on it, it seemed to make no difference.

She collapsed on her worn fabric chair, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips as she dug interlocked fingers into her hair. When would all of this stop? This monotonous cycle that was her life? When she had left Hogwarts this was not exactly what she had envisioned as her dream job…

Hell, no.

Her wandering eyes fell upon a silver framed photograph, and she paid it rapt attention, dreamily looking at the three people laughing away and hugging each other till kingdom come. Her life had been so full with possibilities then…but now everybody's idea of her help was sorting through cases that passed through Wizenmagot.

Her fingers itched to shove all the paper onto the floor and to stampede out of here, but her rational side allowed no such thing. She will not destroy paper, it went against all moral codes.

She heard dull, clattering footsteps walking up the long trek to her office. Funnily enough, there was no offices nearby but that probably came about by the pleasures of being Head of Trials and Tribulations…

Her head fell to the table, her feverish forehead resting on the cool wood, cursing whoever was making that racket. They probably wanted to offload more work to her, the mongrels. And she, with her helpful nature and sweet smile, accepted them with nothing more than a wave of the hand.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's head jerked up, her tired face breaking into a broad smile as she saw one person who had been her friend since the age of eleven. And no, it wasn't Weasley.

"Harry!" she cried, " This is an unexpected pleasure!"

She caught his bespectacled gaze around the room, his green eyes wide in surprise as he witnessed the mayhem surrounding his best friend. Hermione dismissed the choas with a light smile.

"This is nothing Harry," she breezily said, "I'll get through it in no time!"

Harry wasn't sure if she was being serious or not. On one hand he remembered the satisfied pleasure back in Hogwarts after completing all her work, and boy did she love being overworked, but the image of her desolate face floated before his eyes. He had never seen her look so haunted.

"Well what are you waiting for?" she grinned, "Sit down! Do you want some coffee?"

Harry seated himself, not wanting to disturb the precariously placed objects around the room as he did not want to end up on the wrong side of her temperament. His next announcement was bound to shock her to death anyway.

"No thanks," he dryly responded, before leaning forwards in his seat for a further intimacy that a three foot distance didn't give. "I need your help."

Hermione rolled her eyes, her suspicions confirmed about this abrupt visit. They normally saw enough of each other when the visited each other's homes like the best buddies they were. Hermione nodded, her arms folded before her, as if a signal for him to continue.

Harry gave a crooked smile. "Hermione, there are still death eaters out there whom we've been trying to keep our eye on, a certain spy happened to inform us that they are possibly regrouping and are rallying behind a new leader."

Hermione gulped, her brown eyes fixed on Harry's face in unwavering scrutiny. "And who might this leader possibly be?" she quiered, an unreadable expression on her face.

Harry took a deep breath. "We think it might be Draco Malfoy…" he flushed, as if he expected his answer to be responded with a upheaval of laughter. He wasn't disappointed.

Hermione gave a short burst of laughter, clutching at the table as if she was clutching at her last piece of sanity. "Dr…Dr…Draco Mal…Malfoy?"

"Yes," Harry grimly replied, adjusting his glasses to send a fierce glare at his supposed to be level-minded friend. This just seemed to fuel her splutterings even more.

"Him?! He's…he's scared of a hippo…hippogriff! Surely we can't be talking about the same boy! He..he can't even hit anyone!"

Harry inclined his head, waiting for this bout of insanity to pass. Why would he joke about something like this? Was she waiting for a punch line?

Her chortling decreased with volume and he didn't look up until the sounds had stopped altogether. He was now pleased to see Hermione ashen-faced and biting her lip. Her fingers absentmindedly playing with her thick curly brown tresses.

"But we…we had a bargain with the Malfoy family," she quietly wondered, "They would escape Askaban for his mother's help to you…Why would they risk their immunity for something like this?"

"That's it, Hermione- We don't know…We're not even sure how many free death eaters out there who evaded capture by fleeing, those bastards…That is why we should find out…"

"Can't we bring them in for questioning?" she pondered, her brown eyes wide with worry. The earlier humour in them had vanished with all traces.

"We can't!" Harry was frustrated. "We have no proof! No evidence! We have placed watchers around their manor but there is no activity…" He took a deep breath. " That is why we need your help Hermione…The only thing we can do is go undercover, somebody who's trusted and intelligent..Of course we came up with you…We wouldn't do this if there was any chance of your life being in danger…we will always be there to pull you out…"

This was going to fast for Hemione. Just fifteen minutes ago she had been faced with the possibility of facing another day at work but now- now she was faced with a turmoil of a mission. Something told her to say no, a replacement could easily be found, but another, bigger part of her brain urged to listen and go ahead- moreover- wasn't it something like this she had been waiting for?

Hermione drummed her nails on her skirt cladded lap as she continued to listen.

"The quicker we get in there, the better, I'm afraid. We will supply you with a month's stock of Polyjuice potion and we want you to snoop around the manor, for anything and for meetings behind closed doors. Do whatever is necessary to leave the house at least once a week to contact us. If they urge you to take the dark mark, take it- no"

Harry had seen Hermione opening a protesting mouth, and he placated her by urging on.

"Obviously you would take it in another person's form so when you resume to your normal self it will disappear-however if you take the polyjuice potion on every hour at the dot, it will not disappear-"

Hermione gazed open-mouthed at her best friend. Almost looking at him as if he had sprouted two heads. Harry caught her look and let his expression soften, his tone becoming more gentle.

"You won't be completely alone," Harry said soothingly, "Ron and I will always just be a moment breath's away. So…what do you say?"

He looked nervous, as if expecting her to chuck a mug at him. As she did have a flowery mug in her first draw, she could understand his nervousness.

"Yes," she spoke firmly, "I accept. God, I need something like this-"

Harry smiled tensely. In her eagarness she had totally forgotten to ask which alias she was going to resume to put her spying skills into action.

"So," Hermione asked, her eyes alight with an emotion he couldn't put a finger on, "Who is this person I'm going to take on? I presume it's a real person- and possibly female?"

"Your right on two counts," Harry stiffly said.

"So? Who is it?" she leaned forward, her eyes transfixed on Harry's face.

"Pansy Parkinson."

And then he closed his eyes for the uproar he was certain was to arise.

R&R guys!