"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about, Mr. Reid."

"It's doctor." Reid said with a sigh, ruffling his hair. "You don't remember what happened?"

Hermione's small frame was quickly walking away from him, but he was able to catch up. Try as she might, Hermione just could not get used to walking in high heels.

Three years earlier

Hermione walked briskly, hugging herself to protect against D.C's cruel December weather. She was used to cold English winters, but this seemed ten times more frigid. It was necessary, of course, to build up relations with the American Ministry of Magic if she was to quickly move up in the ranks. And it really was a great honor, truly, to assist the current Head of Magical Law Enforcement. There was much to learn from the wise, if aging, woman. But, this couldn't have been better accomplished in May?

Being a lowly assistant, of course, she had to do more work than the boss. She'd been alone at the American ministry until nearly twelve o'clock, doing paperwork and various odd jobs that needed to be completed by the morning. Having done the same thing five nights in a row, Hermione was beaten and stumbling around same as she would have with one too many firewhiskeys in her. The only good thing about having spent so long working was that she had been able to find a short cut to the house where she was staying. It would have been much easier to apparate, of course, but Hermione lacked to license to do so in the United States. It was fine for her boss, but apparently the assistant would cause all types of havoc if she were to apparate two miles. The house lacked a fireplace, so the Floo Network was out of the question, and Hermione had never much liked broomsticks.

So, it was the muggle way for her. She turned right into an alley, and began to walk into the darkness. This part always made her nervous; it seemed to her the perfect place for a dementor to lurk. Indeed, if she hadn't been so tired she would have taken a longer, well-lit way. Her gloved hand wrapped around her wand inside her jacket pocket. She passed a foul smelling dumpster and was ready to breathe a sigh of relief as she exited the place, when she felt two large hands grab her from behind. A loud scream escaped her mouth, but was cut short by one of the hands, which had moved up to her mouth. "Shh, baby, it's fine." a gruff voice whispered, his breath smelling of booze.

Hermione's instincts took over. She bit his hand, and, when his grip temporarily loosened on her, turned and brought her knee up to his crotch. He was only weakened for a moment, but a moment was all she needed. She pulled her wand out and screamed "STUPEFY!" The rough-looking man stumbled back and fell as the stunning spell took affect on him.

Hermione breathed hard, no longer feeling cold and not knowing quite what to do with the muggle man. She kept her wand raised and pointed at him, feeling strangely vulnerable, though she had gained the superior position.

"What...that-that's not possible." Hermione jumped and turned toward the noise. A thin man with long hair stood to her left, his mouth gaping, and Hermione swore she could see gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he had just witnessed. A Chinese takeout box had spilled out some sort of rice dish beside him, filling the alley with the smell of cooked onions. Not knowing what else to do, she sent another stunning spell his way and cringed at the sound of his body hitting the concrete.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn't let anyone in the ministry find out about this. She'd be on lists, she'd be demoted, she might be arrested, for Merlin's sake! Hermione Granger, her perfect reputation ruined. She first approached the man who had attacked her. A memory charm, that's what she needed to do. She just wanted him to forget the last hour or so. Going by the heavy smell of alcohol on him, he wouldn't even notice.The other man was more complicated. She knelt beside him, and gently cleared some hair out of his face. If the circumstances were different, she might have noted how handsome he was, but that was the last thing that was on Hermione's mind. She didn't know what to do with him; he'd certainly think it odd if he woke up in a dirty alley. Hermione reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, and her heart sank as she saw his FBI badge. Had he been trying to help her?

It was difficult to do what she needed when she was so shaken, but Hermione had gotten good at memory charms. Her goal was to manipulate his memory. Spencer Reid would only remember seeing a woman being attacked and fighting off her attacker, before he tripped and smacked his head on the concrete.

Hermione, in her fearful daze, had been surprisingly successful. Spencer woke up to see the man trying to stumble off, and was able to arrest him. Hermione had only made one mistake.

She had allowed him to remember her face.

"You must be confusing me with somebody else, Dr. Reid. I assure you we've never met." she said, trying to sound calm and formal but internally panicking. This was not lost on the profiler.

"You delayed before answering my question, and you swallowed before you spoke. You also straightened your skirt as you responded, which is a grooming gesture often used to dissipate anxiety when a person is lying." Spencer Reid informed her, "Forgive me, but I have an eidetic memory. I remember pretty much everything, and I know I saw you that night. And it would be really helpful if you could make a statement so that-"

"Look, Dr. Reid, I've come to assist you on this case, not to be interrogated by mistaken FBI agents. I have never seen-" Reid's eye followed Hermione's hand, which was frantically patting down her wild hair. She whipped her hand down in frustration. "I have never seen you before. And, if this continues, I will be forced to leave the case."

Hermione walked off to speak with the detective who had been first on the scene, her heart beating wildly. Reid turned around and Hotch was standing there with his arms crossed, clearly waiting for an explanation from the young agent.