I never thought I'd find myself in this position. Then again, I never thought I'd find myself in much of anything for a while, after the Final Battle. Still, it's nice to have a use again; the whispers still nag at the back of my mind, but it doesn't bother me half so much, now. At least they've been more helpful than harmful. Once I thought it was my mother talking to me, and there are times I'm certain it's true. Right now, though...I'm not so sure."

The old clock rang tinnily, distracting her from her writing. It was time to get ready for work. Sighing, she closed the old leather-bound book, carefully folding both quill and book in the patched cloth that was once her baby blanket. Once that was carefully stowed away with her belongings, she pulled out everything she was going to need tonight; her lucky silver crumpled-snorkack earrings, the small cameo choker set on a strand of freshwater pearls, the makeup kit, the wand holster, the party and backup masks, and the two blow-guns specially crafted for the situation.

But of course, they were REALLY only hairsticks. Still, to be entirely certain, she gave each one a sharp tap. Satisfied with the hollow sound, she unscrewed the rear end of one, ensuring the darts were in place. She only had four, which was unnerving enough; not even the Final Curse could save her if she missed her target on the first shot.

With everything else in place, she changed into the dress hanging from the bathroom door; it was an elegant mandarin-necked halter style dress, with sapphire-sequined carp dancing in a small forest of pearled lotus. It was a little small in the hips for her liking, but that was her only real complaint. The bag's bamboo handle had been changed for simple black-lacquered handles that seemed to compliment the bag much more than the original had. After fixing up her hair (and making sure the plugs were in place, to prevent any unfortunate accidents), she called for a taxi, using the instructions she'd been given from the Department of Muggle Relations.

The party was heating up by the time she arrived, and she was relieved that it was a masked event; it had allowed her to partly cover up her distaste with the stench of beer, smoke, and whatever else unidentifiable had been in the back of the cab. Depositing her coat with the concierge, she scouted out the place to find the best position. Long practice told her where her target would be and, knowing what she did of the Malfoys, she wasn't counting on any changes in plan. Their pride wouldn't allow it.

Halfway across the room, she was stopped by one of her contacts; there was a change in plans, after all. Thankfully, they were prepared this time, and she accepted the invitation to "take in the sights and chat a while." The whole time, she filled her in on the situation, and how the new arrangements could make her assignment twice as difficult as before.

"The time hasn't changed, though, has it?"

"Thankfully, no," they replied. "Here's your things; you left them at my house."

"Thanks. Be right back."

"Be careful, Lune."

She ducked into the ladies' restroom, making sure the place was empty before taking a stall. She pulled out the hair sticks, sliding the silver ones in as placeholders, then double-checked the darts. Still good, though the heat was starting to get to the plugs. It was no matter; it was about time, anyway. Pulling out her wand, she checked one final time to make sure she was alone.

"Duoego!" she hissed, pointing towards one of the sinks. In moments, an exact duplicate of herself materialized in front of the sink. Closing her eyes in concentration, she put together a series of events for the copy to follow, and soon it was touching up its makeup and humming a little tune. Only someone who was paying attention would notice it was the same four notes over and over, but copies only had a limited capacity for memory, and she was tasking herself enough as it was.

Then, applause sounded, and the copy left the room. As she turned away, Luna hurriedly changed into the other set of clothes, before blacking her face and applying the second mask. Finally ready, she tossed the bag out the open bathroom window, mentally noting where it landed...then let the shadow overtake her senses.

Everything took on a hazy black-and-white hue in her Shadowshade form, but it would be easier to get into position this way. As the lights dimmed to prepare for their guest speaker, she assumed her position, pulling the plugs from the first blow gun. Curarecao wasn't her preferred method, but if the cone shell didn't take, then it would have to do. Using extreme caution, as the darts were pure concentrated and solidified forms of the poison in question, she prepared her strike as a nervous-looking Lucius Malfoy took the stage. She grinned when she noticed his nervous habit of looking around and rubbing his neck hadn't changed. Perhaps this'll be easier than I thought.

Even in the dim light, she could see the inky blackness that was beginning to overtake the blow gun; if she didn't move faster, it would spread to the floor...and anything touching her. Speed and time were essential to a Shadowshade, and she was losing both. As the roar of applause began to rise again, she breathed as deeply as she could, careful not to expand herself into someone else.

And finally, when the sound of clapping was at its loudest, she struck. She couldn't tell if the slight wince was contact, or if that was a nervous tic. She'd have to find out later; staying here wasn't an option. She stepped from shadow to shadow, leaping between columns when she couldn't find a host walking or bridging the paths of light. The whispering voices began calling out to her again, begging her to come and be one of them. They got louder with each step she took, no matter how many times she tried to silence them. Just as the feeling of dissolution began again, she felt something solid connect with the middle of her back, and the shadow form solidify into her normal body. She spun around to see her contact, a hand inside her robes...and the other holding the crystal point that had poked into her back.

"Where is yours?" Compassion hissed.

"Close by." With that, she turned and made her way over to the doors, keeping to the shadows out of habit. Her contact followed closely, keeping the crystal at hand. As soon as they were out, she reached out, snatching the handles as the car pulled up.

"I take it I was successful, then?" she asked as they pulled away. Naturally, she had been; otherwise, they wouldn't be having this conversation. She would also probably be surrounded by a lot more crystal.

"You were," Compassion said, removing her mask. "I've never understood what you had against curarecao, since you seem to be so effective with its use."

"It's slow," she sighed. "Much too slow, and the effects are unpredictable. How do we know it worked on Malfoy, anyway? Given how deep he was into the Dark Lord's affairs, I wouldn't be surprised if he was immune to any poison out there."

The third person in the car sighed, making Luna jump a little. "Because our other agents have done their homework. Malfoy spent so much of his time underestimating and sniping at Muggles that he never took the time to really see what sort of threats they could pose. Curarecao is a magical mixture of Muggle poisons on its own which, if fired by someone else, might be ineffective against Malfoy--if only for the magical elements of the poison."

"Okay..so what makes this so much more different?" Mentally, she kicked back; Honesty's explanations tended to be real winners, beating even some of the things her father used to print in the Quibbler.

"It's simple; the user is what makes it different. The mixture wasn't complete until it was placed in your hands. The final component we needed to make it a successful tool was Shadowshade essence." She held up a hand, stopping Luna's question before it was asked. "Certainly, we have...others...who could have successfully completed the mixture before the mission. However, the final result would not have been portable, nor could we guarantee the stability for anything longer than a few moments."

"That, and I'm the only Shadowshade in the Department you trust," Luna added, eyebrow raised in bemused curiosity."

"For the time being, yes," Honesty replied in a cool voice. "And so long as we have reason to trust you, no harm will come to you. Speaking of such things, what is the state of your mind, these days?"

She sighed. "Sunny days are a bear, but it's been all right. The crystal itches a bit, but doesn't do a whole lot else."

"You keep it on you, then?" Luna lifted the little teardrop-shaped pendant, which glinted a little in the passing streetlights. "Excellent. Let us know immediately if it should need replacing." Turning to the window, Honesty's mask took on a temporary brilliant glow as lighting flashed.

"And now, to rebuild the Veil."