AN Thank you everyone for the reviews and the follows! I'm blown away, really I am. I'm really excited about the reception of this fic, and can't wait to get into the meat of the story and get the action going. This is another introductory chapter, and it focuses on Hermione!

Still no beta, all mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

Hermione hummed to herself as she got herself ready for the day. She moved through her small apartment between her bathroom and her living room, trying to tame her hair on her way. As she moved toward the kitchen, in order to grab something quick for breakfast, she deftly stepped over the pile of toys her godsons, James and Albus, had left on the floor after visiting over the weekend.

When she had moved to Boston almost five years ago, she was really worried that her relationship with Harry and Ginny would suffer and she wouldn't have a chance to get to know James, who was just a baby at the time. Harry, however, reminded her that she was a witch and that magic was a marvelous thing, and once her floo was connected with the network, she was able to see the Potters whenever she wanted. She even had the privilege of keeping the boys overnight some weekends, giving the Potters, and the Weasleys, a break.

As she made her tea, she pulled out her wand, and with a swish and a flick, the toys went back into the cupboard they were stored in while the boys were at home. She smiled to herself, remembering the chaos of the weekend, hosting a five year old and a three year old. Boy were those two a handful, she did not envy Harry one bit. And with another on the way, she crossed her fingers that they would be blessed with a girl, because if they had another boy with the energy of the two they already had, she was sure they would be counting down the days until they started to ship them off to Hogwarts.

As she ate her breakfast and sipped her tea, Hermione skimmed through the issue of the Daily Prophet that Harry brought with him when he came to pick up the boys. He always brought her a copy when he came to visit so she could stay on top of the news back home. In addition to all the typical Ministry news and gossip, there, on the bottom left of the second page there was still a column written by the detestable Rita Skeeter, speculating on her whereabouts. When she moved five years ago, she made sure that no one other than her close friends and family knew where she was. After twelve years of being constantly in the spotlight and being followed by the magical version of the paparazzi, she had had enough. She couldn't live a normal life, and she definitely couldn't move on with her life if she stayed anywhere near London. After much consideration, and many pro and con lists, she decided to move to Boston. She opened up her shop, Old Treasures, which specialized in both Muggle and Magical texts, and has enjoyed the relative anonymity that came with living in a new place.

She shut the paper, finished the last of her tea in a one big gulp, and grabbed her bag off the counter before apparating into work.

Hermione sat at the counter reading through a new book that she had just acquired when the bell on the door rang, signaling that someone was entering the store. She set the book aside and looked up to see three men entering the store. She quirked her eyebrow as she took in the men. They were not the sort who would typically frequent her store. Usually she had people who were obviously magical trying to pass as Muggle, old people, hipsters, and then the obvious antique hunters who came in with lists of what they were looking for. What made these men stand out in particular was not just the way they were dressed, one in multiple layers of shirts, one in a beige trench coat, one in a flannel button down. No, what made these men stand out was the fact that they looked completely and utterly out of place from the moment that they walked into the store. Like they didn't understand why they were in an antique bookstore to begin with.

She pushed herself out of her chair, and leaned forward on the counter. "Can I help you?"

They all looked at each other, before the tallest one, the one in the flannel shirt, "Um, yeah, we were looking to speak to the owner of the store."

Hermione straightened. "That would be me."

The three men turned back to each other, and Hermione watched as they pantomimed to each other. She couldn't quite understand what was going on, but it seemed that they were trying to figure out who was going to talk.

"Is there something I could help you find?" she asked. "Are you looking for a particular text?"

Finally, the men stopped gesturing at each other, and the tall one spoke up again. "Yes, actually. We were hoping that you would be able to tell us a little about," he paused. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "The Dark Mark."

Hermione took a step back, eyes wide. She was certain these men were muggles. How on earth did they know anything about the Dark Mark? "I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione answered after she had recovered, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

"Really? Because according to these message boards we found, it was implied that you do," Multiple Layered Shirts said.

Hermione shook her head. "Message boards? What message boards?" she asked, confused.

Tall and Flannel gestured to the computer on her counter. "Is that hooked up to the Internet?" he asked.

She nodded.

"May I?" he gestured toward the machine.

She nodded again.

He moved over behind the counter and Hermione moved out of his way, she looked over at the other two men. Multiple Layers was looking around the shop, but it was Trench Coat that made her do a double take. He had been absolutely silent since they came into the shop, and he was looking at her, with his eyes narrowed, and his head tilted to one side, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle, and that puzzle was her. She shook her head, and turned her attention back to the computer. She watched as Flannel went straight to a website and then backed out of the way so that she could see what he had pulled up on the screen.

"What the fuck," she muttered under her breath as she took in the site. It was message boards run by muggleborn witches and wizards from Britain. She took the mouse and scrolled through the threads and she just kept shaking her head. While the average Muggle really wouldn't have understood most of what was being discussed, it was still a huge violation of the Statute of Secrecy. She scrolled until she found the name of the admin of the site. Dean Thomas. She should have known. She was going to have to floo call Harry later and discuss this with him. They needed to shut these boards down.

She tried to find out where on the boards these men found out that she had anything to do with the Dark Mark, but she couldn't find anything. The only thing she saw that had anything to do with her was a thread that discussed Rita Skeeter's Daily Prophet articles about her. She looked up at the men.

"I don't understand. How did this website lead you to me?" she asked.

Tall and Flannel reached over and a few clicks later, the headline, "Hermione Granger leaves London and starts new life as a bookshop owner in Boston amid scandal," popped up in big bold letters. Of course, it was link to a thread about Hermione when she left the country, and an article written by none other than Rita Skeeter.

She sighed and looked up at them. "This is nice and all, but I just don't understand why you think I have anything to do with this 'Dark Mark,'" she said, hoping that if she denied it enough, it would deter them and they would leave.

"Because, you belong to this mysterious group that runs this message board," Tall and Flannel said.

"Look, I'm really sorry, but-" Hermione started.

"Look, lady," Multiple Layers snapped. "I'm tired of dancing around this. We know that you know something, so stop denying it. The website says that you can stop cursed marks from controlling the person who is marked. We need you to tell us how."

"Why on Earth would you need to know something like that?" she asked, giving up the pretense of being clueless.

Multiple Layers looked her in the eye as he rolled up the right sleeves of his shirts. There, on the inside of his arm, was a raised mark that looked almost like it could be a rune.

"Because I have a cursed mark that sounds an awful like this Dark Mark we read about on your crazy site," he replied.

Hermione stared at the mark. Every instinct in her body was screaming to stay as far away from these men, and whatever it was they were bringing with them. The other part, the much louder part, the part that pushed her to always run headlong into whatever trouble Harry was involved in during school, that part wanted to know more about this mark.

She looked at each of the men one more time, and seeing the looks of almost desperation on each of their faces, it was easy for her to make her final decision.

"Meet me back here at seven after I close. We'll talk more then."

So, what'd you think? Please leave a review and let me know. See you next week!