Disclaimer: I do not own any of Ms. Rowling's wonderful creations. Nor do I own any of the various songs that may be presented throughout the length of this fanfiction. The various songs will be named at the end of the fic, as well as in the chapter within which they lie.

One of the lovely reviewers on my story, Spinning Bottles, suggested that I work a Hermione/Lucius fic, so here it is. It's one that I've been working on for a while. I must ask you all, however, not to expect speedy updates on it. It's on a backburner until Spinning Bottles and Pen Pal have finished. Sorry ahead of time.

Yours,

Allison

Prologue

"You know, Miss Granger, that you do not have to do this? We are not forcing you..." Minerva McGonagall said grimly. Hermione Granger closed her eyes and rested her forehead in her hand for a long moment before lifting her head and putting her hand down.

"I understand, Professor." She said, softly. "However, I find the mission most important...and I am the only one suitable for the task unless you call Tonks back from her mission in Africa. Also...you cannot use any of the men because of the obvious...Lucius Malfoy is not homosexual."

McGonagall sighed in defeat and nodded. Hermione was right.Harry, however, would not be happy. She sighed. "You understand that there will only be one way to communicate safely from here on out?" At the younger woman's sharp nod, the elderly witch felt a deep pang of regret. Hermione Granger had been in the order for six years now...ever since the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts when her parents had died at Voldemort's wand. She was as ready for this mission as one could possibly be for a mission that would take the rest of her life to accomplish...give or take. She, Harry, and Ron had never finished school...had, indeed, been fighting Voldemort without stopping ever since Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death at the end of their sixth year. Hermione had been the first to join the order...while the other two remained rogue until the technical end of their seventh year.

Hermione hated Severus Snape, with a passion. He has been the one who had killed her parents. He'd known she was in the house...he'd been the one who'd nearly caught her before she'd escaped. But he'd killed her parents first. Snape knew Hermione. He'd known that she wouldn't leave until she'd watched her parents die...that she'd blame herself and therefore force herself to watch. If her parents could suffer the torture and the death, after all, she would feel that the least she could do was watch every second of it.

Her parents, it seemed, had been better informed of the happenings in the wizarding world and the very real dangers to their lives than Hermione might have previously believed. They had set up a trust fund for her with all of their worldly fortune...a considerable ammount, since they were dentists and dentists tended to make quite a lot of money...in case of their death. Therefore, she'd been living well.

"Lucius Malfoy, as you know, likes redheads. You fit the build of his ideal woman, and your intelligence matches up as well. Your greatest hurdle will be Severus Snape." Even after six years, Minerva had to force herself not to sneer in disgust at the name of her traitorous ex-colleague. "He will remember well his greatest and favorite pupil." Hermione snorted.

"I will be getting a complete makeover from Ginny Weasley tonight, and Parvati Patil and her business partner, Lavender Weasley, will be helping me to make the makeover permanent." Hermione said quietly. "Percy and Penelope Weasley will both be pulling strings in the ministry to have my name officially changed, via several paths. Hermione Granger will, first of all, die in a duel with Jackson Wormhair tonight. Wormhair is a known Voldemort supporter, who I've already challenged."

"I don't want to know all of the details. We will, however, need to set up your Witch's Glass immediately, as well as your voice signature and password. Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and I will each have a matching Witch's Glasses, and we will all be able to speak at appointed times. Your undercover work may or may not allow you to meet us every time we meet...so you will be able to signal another meeting with the same galleons that you set up for the meetings of your Army in your Fifth year as well as the galleons that you set up for the Order meetings."

"No." Minerva looked at the younger woman in surprise. "Those galleons will signal everyone. I will work something out shortly...set up only for the three of you. You will have it by the time that I disappear, later tonight. And remember...until I signal the first meeting, there must be no attempt to contact me. I will not signal the meeting until my cover is secure."

Hogwarts' Headmistress felt a rush of love for her young student as she looked down at the brilliant young woman fondly. "Right. We'll get the Witch's glass set up now, then?" When Hermione nodded, Minerva smiled and handed her the small silver mirror that would serve much like a walkie talkie for the witch in the future.

"Sorsentra Luminesca." Hermione whispered, tapping the surface of the glass with her wand. She then said in her every day voice, after some consideration "Cinderellie Cinderellie." After her favorite muggle Fairy Tale...

Tucking the mirror into her robe pockets, she nodded to her professor and disappeared into her room. Later that evening, Minerva found a small blue drawstring bag of velvet with three small knuts inside, along with a note.

Professor McGonagall-

By the time you recieve this, I'll have already left. Inside of this bag, with this letter, are three knuts, charmed exactly like the galleons that we used for the order. One is for Harry, and one is for Ron. They will not be spendable. Any attempt to spend them will result in their immediately being summoned back to your pocket. The same goes for leaving them behind. This is so none of us can displace them. My Gringotts Vault has already been emptied and prepared for this project. Do not ask Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, Percy, or Penelope for details...I am obliviating them as soon as their tasks are done.

In short, dear professor, I am the only one who will know who I am and where I am. I have already charmed my Witch's Glass to show me as I used to be...not as I currently am. Therefore, the three of you will see the witch that you knew...not the girl who was made over by Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny. I apologize for these measures, Professor, but I feel that they are necessary for the good of this mission. Tell Harry that it never would have worked between us. I see too often how he looks at Ginny...and I give him my blessings in that quarter.

Perhaps, one day, when this war is all over...perhaps then we'll be able to meet once more, as acquaintances and colleagues. Perhaps I'll be able to take up that job as Transfiguration Professor, as you asked. For now, however, I bid you Adieu. My heart will always be with you, and our cause.

Your loving Student,

Hermione Janette Granger

Minerva smiled sadly at this, wiping away a tear of pride in her young student as she tucked the note and the bag away. Still, knowing the reality of the situation didn't lessen her grief when she opened the Daily Prophet up to the Obituaries and read the familiar name there, seeing the smiling picture of the young Gryffindor woman who had promised her all to their cause. Nor did it make her job any easier when that woman's two best friends arrived at Hogwarts in the dead of night, half-mad with grief, demanding to know what was happening.

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Lucius Malfoy smirked as he studied the article in the paper before him. Harry Potter's best friend and one true love had been killed at the hand of one of the most incompetent excuses for a deatheater that Lord Voldemort had recruited. Of course, the fool boy had gotten the Dementor's Kiss immediately afterwards. There hadn't even been a trial, from what Lucius had heard. And now...everything was perfect.

Well...as perfect as the bottom of a bottle could be. Since his beloved Narcissa's death, Lucius had not felt a moment of happiness. Not that living with the old bag had been much easier...but at least she'd brought some sense of purpose to his wretched life. He sighed and tossed the empty bottle of Firewhiskey aside, hearing the satisfying shatter and managing a drunken smirk. He'd even been reduced to relying on that foolish son of his to get things done.

Narcissa Malfoy had been slaughtered by Hermione Granger in a duel two years before. Jackson Wormhair had relieved Lucius of any need to seek revenge by killing the rather dangerous mudblood. It was a good day for Lucius, for Narcissa had been a far better duelist than he was and if she could not take the brilliant young witch with a mind quicker than the Avada Kedavra spell's effect, then he was outmatched by far. Thinking on this, he wondered how in the hell Wormhair had managed to kill the smartest witch to grace the halls of Hogwarts since Voldemort himself roamed the halls. His drunken mind was forced to shrug it off, however, when the door to his study opened and his colleague, Severus Snape, swept in.

Severus had been one of the leading factors in Lucius' escape from Azkaban- the Wizard Prison...a task for which the blonde now owed the snarky potions master an unthinking, unhesitating favor. Put in blunt, unsophisticated (In this case, the word unsophisticated may be taken to mean that the terms were not layered with gallons of the delicate, never ending mind dance that aristocrats force each other to endure. Snore.) terms...Lucius now owed Severus a type of life debt. A fact which Hogwarts' ex potions master was quick to point out at every opportunity.

'Snarky old Bastard...' Lucius thought vehemently to himself as he turned, his face the expressionless void that he wore constantly...to be replaced only by a sneer or a smirk, of course. And even then, only in public when it might most humiliate or infuriate someone. Oh, there was the odd occasion here and there in which he lost control...but they were rare. Very, very rare.

"Lucius...I assume you've seen the Prophet?" Snape asked, his voice that oiled bastardous mutter that had been protected over many years worth of intimidating the hell out of students.

"Indeed, Severus. I've had the...pleasure..." Lucius took care to put just the right ammount of emphasis on the word that it made him seem to be two steps short of no longer being able to contain the rage that he didn't feel. "...of reading about the death of Harry Potter's sidekick."

"Then you know as well as I do that something is...off...about this." Severus said, sitting without an invitation to. Lucius bit his tongue to keep his expression empty.

"Off, Severus?" He molded his voice, like clay, into a quizzical tone of clear disbelief.

"Hermione Granger won that duel, Lucius. I was there. She was beating him hands down when a mist suddenly engulfed the battle field. When it ended, there was simply a dead body where Miss Granger had once been. Nobody even heard the killing curse." When Severus was met with nothing but his colleague's blank stare, he growled. "It's a set up, Lucius."

"Severus, I do believe you've been spending far too much time sweating and swearing over those potions that the Dark Lord commissioned you to make." Lucius said dismissively. "Miss Granger is dead and there is nothing left to say for it. One less Mudblood in the world, and you should be delightful about it." He waved a black-gloved hand with an air of indifference. "Now, if you are quite finished...I believe that you have yet to finish the task set before you by our Lord?"

Severus fought back a growl of impatience. He probably thought that Lucius didn't notice, the blonde thought with wry amusement. Voldemort had proclaimed Severus useless in a field of battle...having blown his cover among the Order of the Phoenix...and so the potions master had been confined to the Malfoy Manor doing just what he had been trained to do. Brewing potions. Lucius noted that the other man didn't seem as happy with the news of Miss Granger's death as he should have.

"Honestly, Severus...if you don't believe that she's dead, why don't you attend the funeral?" Lucius drawled with exaggerated patience. "All it would take was an invisibility cloak."

"Perhaps I will. You, however, will be going with me." The blonde bit his tongue, tasting the iron tang of blood. He bloody well did not want to go to that damned funeral.

"As you wish, Severus." He bit out.

"The funeral is in two days, Lucius. I will see you then." With that, the greasy potions master swept out, leaving Lucius to glare after him.

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Severus Snape, contrary to his sneering words to Lucius, felt no satisfaction as he looked into the coffin that held the girl that he could have loved. He'd seen himself in Hermione Granger...and had so removed his influence to avoid turning her into him. And now she was dead. Not only had he failed Dumbledore, he'd failed Hermione. Not that he'd done much. His first and only loyalty was to the Dark Lord. So why did he feel so empty, watching the earth rise up to engulf the coffin and the headstone, setting each of them deep? Perhaps it was that he hadn't truly believed that the bright young witch could be dead...he'd seen Jackson Wormhair duel, and the incompetent twit would have been bested by Hermione when she was in third year, let alone the brilliant duelist that she'd become.

Lucius didn't wonder what Severus was thinking, for he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, remembering the fire in the young mudblood's eyes as she'd met his gaze when she was younger...challenging him...daring him to try something. He'd admired her, he realized. Somehow, she'd demanded his respect...and something deep within him had given it. Ah well, one less Mudblood in the world now. He smirked as he and Severus turned and swept out of the graveyard, unnoticed.

The world was officially a better place.