"Greengrass!"

With a typical lack of regard, the still bushy-haired Hermione Granger burst into my office without so much as a warning knock. Her hair, I noted, was looking particularly awful.

"It's Lady Greengrass." I informed her, hastily shoving my half-eaten muffin into the desk drawer. No need for her to see the wrapper and launch into an exhausting diatribe about better uses of office money than buying delicious little treats from that adorable French bakery down the street. Never mind that Pansy bankrolled half of the department.

"It doesn't matter!" Hermione snapped. She slapped a spine-chilling stack of paper on my desk and the fire in her eye told me she expected me to read it. All of it.

"Isn't this what I hired you for?" I asked, brushing crumbs off my hands, "So I don't have to ruin my eyesight with this reading?"

As expected, Granger rose to the bait.

"You didn't hire me!" Hair positively standing on end, Hermione attempted to tower over my desk. I studied my nails. "We are equal partners in this department! Do I need to remind you-"

"Please don't," I said, closing an eye and tilting my hand to the window. Pansy insisted that this shade of pearl was gorgeous with my skin tone, but the longer I wore it the less I was convinced.

Sixth months ago, the Minister of Magic decided to create a Department of Esoteric Risk Analysis and I was slowly losing my mind at the Parkinson estate. Heading the department was the perfect excuse to get out of the house and put my Hogwarts education to good use. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger had the same idea.

Luckily, Percy Weasley showed more sense than most of his family and rather than risk estranging his sister-in-law (me) or enraging one of the Golden Trio (the wild-haired harpy across the table), he decided to make us co-heads. Astoria says that Percy immediately regretted the decision, but I'm having a grand time, Granger baiting included.

"Stop flaunting your obnoxiously overpriced wedding ring and read the damn papers, Daphne!"

Was that what I had been doing? I gave a few extra flicks of my hand as I reached for the stack of papers. Just because Ronald had the good sense to call off a fatally flawed marriage and elope with Lavender Brown, didn't mean Hermione had to be so bitter.

Reports- reports –reports-

Oh.

Oh dear.

I glanced up sharply at Hermione, antagonism forgotten. "It must have been a spell misfiring. Someone botched the warding or-"

"I checked the ward stones myself." Hermione flung herself into one of my delightfully delicate chairs. "They're all fine. Perfect." Studying her now, she did look tired and there were flecks of dirt under her fingernails. She must have been up since dawn to tracking through the fields. I flicked my wand and the coffee pot reheated and poured Hermione a cup of coffee. She clutched it gratefully.

"And this muggle wasn't-" I waved my hand, trying to think of a phrase that wouldn't set my co-head off on another one of her rants about microaggression.

"No," Hermione leaned forward flipped through three more reports. "That's the Auror report. There were no magical traces at all."

A chill set into my bones, even as my mind began sparking with excitement and concern.

"So an entirely magic-less muggle managed to locate the unplottable Caer Gilcraft, bypass the centuries-old 'Notice Me Not' warding and wander around for twenty minutes before someone noticed he was out of place?"

Hermione's grim expression was all the confirmation I needed.

"But how?" I asked after a tense moment. "Caer Gilcraft is as well protected as Hogsmeade or the Ministry."

"Well, not exactly as secure…"

I tuned out Hermione's inevitable lecture and frowned at the reports before me.

Notice me not wards were the cornerstone of wizarding protection. The invention of the apparition and the increase of Muggle habitation meant that most of the centers of wizarding life were spread throughout England. Some, like Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, were located in isolated locations so chance muggle sightings were rarer. Others, like Diagon Alley had slowly become subsumed by the rising Muggle infrastructure and relied on an elaborate maze of tricks and traps to maintain their secrecy.

Caer Gilcraft fell somewhere between. A popular local school for magical musicians and the central gathering place for any musical offerings, it was located just outside a sleepy English town on the Welsh border. Muggles would go hiking in the hills, but they generally kept away from the small school in a large part because of the warding stones scattered throughout the surrounding countryside.

If the ward stones were failing or the Muggles could see through them, well… there would be time to panic after we figured out the cause.

"There is a lot of information on this muggle." I flicked through the Auror report. "Are you sure he doesn't have a trace of magic?" Magical ability was a spectrum. Muggles had next to nothing while Lords and Ladies had god level quantities. Hogwarts accepted children who met a certain threshold of magical ability, but there were always those who weren't quite powerful enough to either qualify or be a danger to others. They usually went mad before puberty. Occasionally, they would survive and be drawn to magical places like Caer Glicraft.

Hermione frowned and leaned forward, "They said he was completely inert."

"We should check to see if he has a record with the Aurors. He might be a repeat offender." I flicked through a few more pages, skimming the dry legalese while Hermione made a note. Suddenly, I stopped. "and I quote 'The muggle seemed elated when we apparated in- repeating 'It worked. It worked. The meditations were worked.'" I glanced up to see Hermione smirking at me.

"I saw that too. I think we need to investigate just what sort of meditations this man is thinking about. I think we need to-"

"Don't say it." My stomach dropped at the smug expression on her face.

"We need to talk to Dean Thomas."

I frowned. "That seems excessive-"

"Do you want to go into Muggle London and start asking about meditation groups? Do you even know how to do that?"

"Would you go talk to him?" My frown turned into a pout. But what had always worked marvelously on Pansy failed entirely with Hermione. Instead, the vicious Gryffindor snapped her small journal closed gleefully and stood up with a relish.

"I have an Auror report to find. And you need to pull your weight around here, Lady Greengrass. Or maybe I should have a talk with Minister Weasley about the inefficiency of two department heads?"

Hermione managed to flounce out of the door in a puff of hair and shielded my stinging hex in one breath. Rude. I made a mental note to poison her next cup of coffee.

A/N: Just a short, fun story that draws on way too much unpublished head cannon. And practicing the first person perspective. Let me know if you liked it!