Disclaimer: Not mine. But you knew that already.

love made the danger

in you look like safety

- Rupi Kaur, milk and honey

Hermione swallowed hard as Tom surveyed her critically. Abraxas, Orion, and Dolohov watched the inspection from the sitting area in the drawing room where they'd congregated to go over the plan one last time and make sure she looked presentable for a meeting with Dumbledore. She cleared her throat as the silence stretched out and Tom's head snapped up to meet her eyes.

"Well?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Her eyes flickered to the others to take in Orion's approving, Abraxas' worried, and Dolohov's disgusted gazes. Tom sighed and blew a strand of hair out of his face.

"The plan?" he asked coolly and she rolled her eyes as he made her recite their plan back to him line by line. As she finished, he sighed again and held out two scrolls of parchment. "Fine," he sighed. She took the scrolls hesitantly and squeezed his hand gently.

"Everything's going to be fine," she murmured. Tom's eyes clouded and Abraxas' brow furrowed in worry.

"It better be," Tom growled. He pulled her into a rough embrace. Despite the distance, she'd been keeping since they'd made up, she let him hug her, understanding he needed the reassurance. Once her released her, Abraxas crowded in to do the same. "Meet me in the Hag's Hood in Knockturn Alley at 11 or as soon as your meeting is finished."

She nodded seriously and turned to leave.

HG*TR

Hermione staggered as she appeared in Hogsmeade. Memories – good and bad – crowded her mind demanding attention. She closed her eyes against them, blocking them out. Tom had been testing her occlumency for the past week to make sure her shields were up to the task of confronting Dumbledore. Keeping her memories under control and her mind clear could determine how successful their ruse was.

She was grateful for the owl they'd sent in advance requesting a meeting in Hogsmeade instead of up at the school. She didn't think her control over her thoughts or emotions would extend to seeing Hogwarts again. Where Godric's Hollow had panicked her due to the unpleasant memories she had of her previous visit to the village, Hogsmeade presented a different challenge since it flooded her mind with happy recollections, reminding her of what she'd lost. She could only imagine how much harder it would be if she had to go to Hogwarts, the home of her childhood and a place she'd last seen in shambles.

She meandered down the street and paused outside the Three Broomsticks to straighten her cloak and dress. Tom had laid out a navy cotton dress with a high waistline, full skirt that fell just past her knees, capped sleeves and a plunging neckline that morning for the meeting. Despite the neckline, the dress was very modest and, paired with the ostentatious deep red cloak with a hood Tom had insisted she also wear to hide her face, she looked like a young pureblood witch seeking to hide her identity – an event that wasn't uncommon in the current high-tension climate in England as Grindelwald continued to terrorize mainland Europe and grew with power daily.

Other than the cloak, nothing hid her identity. Her facial features and wild hair remained the same, Tom having deemed the wide hood obscure enough that no one would recognize her unless she removed it and the only person she was to remove the hood for was Dumbledore himself. Tom wanted Dumbledore to know he'd orchestrated the entire scheme when everything finally unfolded, a bit of bitterness and arrogance driving Tom's childish desire to rub Dumbledore's face in his own downfall. Hermione wasn't so sure it was such a good idea to taunt Dumbledore, but Tom was adamant. Hermione would never understand why men always felt the need to gloat over the battles they won.

She took a deep breath and shouldered her way into the busy pub. An unrecognizable man glanced up from the bar as Hermione walked in. He had dark hair and light brown eyes. Hermione could recognize some of Madam Rosmerta's features from her time and guessed he was either her father or grandfather. "Can I get you anything, dear?" he asked when she approached the bar.

Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it was slightly before the time they'd arranged to meet Dumbledore and shrugged. She could have a drink to settle the nerves roiling in her stomach while she waited. "A shot of Firewhiskey, please?" she murmured.

The barkeep shot her a curious look but nodded. He poured her a shot and slid it to her. "Two sickles." Hermione shrugged and dug the requested amount from a pocket in her cloak. The barkeep smiled and pocketed the change. She sat at a stool and nursed the whiskey slowly, aware it was too early for liquor but feeling the need to brace herself for what she was sure would be a difficult meeting. She had to convince Dumbledore that Grindelwald had sent her. She thought she had enough information about his affair with Grindelwald to fool him but he was an incredibly intelligent and intuitive wizard. He'd be skeptical of anything she told him.

The barkeep shot her a couple of curious glances as he moved off to tend to other patrons. The Three Broomsticks was a fairly popular place, even in the past, and a number of booths and tables had patrons seated at them. The majority were residents of the small village out for a late morning brunch. There were understandably no students from the school seeing as it was a weekday and all of them would be in class.

She flinched slightly every time the door opened but refused to turn and check if it was the man she was waiting for. A vaguely familiar man sat at a table in the corner of the room. His frame was large and bulky, with heavily defined arm muscles and an unkempt dark brown beard. He looked like a warrior from another time and was probably the scruffiest of the patrons at the pub that morning, wearing a ragged white tunic and green cut offs. She frowned when she couldn't place him as she'd met most of Tom's cabal and couldn't remember him from any encounters in the future with allies or Death Eaters. All the same, he looked familiar, as though she'd seen his picture recently.

She was distracted from the man when she finally, she heard Dumbledore's voice. Even fifty years earlier than she knew him, he sounded the same. The slow measured pacing of his voice as he asked the barkeep – John – for a private room to conduct some private business held the same reassuring quality it had when she was a child just starting at Hogwarts. The barkeep came and fetched a key before sending the Transfiguration professor up the stairs and into the first room.

After another moment, Hermione threw back the last of her shot and stood to shake out the skirt of her dress. There was no point in dragging this out any longer than necessary. Tom would be awaiting her anxiously. "Thanks," she murmured as she brushed past the confused bar tender and headed up the stairs. She took another deep breath as she paused at the top of the stairs and knocked on the door of the room Dumbledore was waiting for her in. "Ms. Greenberg to see Mr. Dumbledore."

A faint "Come in" reached her ears and she entered the room with a high head and straight back. "Good morning, Mr. Dumbledore," she said entered what appeared to be a small sitting room with a small table for tea.

"To you as well, Ms. Greenberg," Dumbledore said, rising from the armchair he'd commandeered and gesturing for her to take a seat across from him at a small tea table, "What can I help you with? Your letter suggested you were in trouble of some sort, and you thought I could help?"

His familiar blue eyes twinkled over half-moon glasses and Hermione grit her teeth as she felt like she was being x-rayed by her old headmaster. Other than the fact his beard and hair were primarily brown streaked with silver, he looked much the same as he had when she'd been in school, merely younger. The powerful sensation of safety washed over being in his presence and she had to remind herself of everyone who had died for the greater good over the years because he deemed it necessary for his plan to succeed.

He is no better than Grindelwald or Voldemort, she reminded herself. Tom and her had analyzed every decision she'd known of and its consequence at length, both agreeing that much bloodshed would have been avoided if Dumbledore had merely shared information. In the end, they'd agreed, there was as much blood on his hands as there was on Voldemort's. She pushed the hood of the red cloak away from her face as she settled into the seat across from the Hogwarts professor and smoothed out the skirt of her dress carefully.

"Perhaps," she agreed, "I may have slightly misled you in my letter. A mutual acquaintance of ours wished to send you a message and did not think you would receive his letter." As she spoke, the twinkle vanished from Dumbledore's eyes and his slight smile disappeared as his lips thinned slightly.

"I see," he said, "And what message might this mutual acquaintance wish to relay to me?"

Hermione reached into the pocket of her cloak and withdrew a sealed scroll of parchment. She handed it to Dumbledore who took it with trepidation. He broke the seal and his eyes began to scan the letter rapidly. As he read, his lips grew thinner and his eyes hardened.

The letter was, of course, a very good forgery of Grindelwald's hand asking for a meeting in person in three days' time. No time or place was specified as none of them knew where Grindelwald currently was. A tracking spell had been placed on the parchment which would bind to Dumbledore and allow them to track his movements for the next 72 hours.

Dumbledore's cold blue eyes met hers and she could feel him gently probe her mind, looking for an opening. She had an advantage because he knew nothing about her so he had no weakness he could exploit. He couldn't even use Grindelwald as leverage to get into her head because she had never actually met him. "Legimancy will get you nowhere, Mr. Dumbledore," she said quietly, "I would appreciate if you kept out of my head."

His eyebrows shot skyward as he realized he'd been detected and he reached under the table they were seated at to grip his wand. She imagined he had been using Legimancy on unsuspecting people for years without detection and that part of his intuitive nature was due to his skill at it. Her wand was in a holster above her wrist, ready to release at any moment.

It didn't matter anyway. They'd agreed keeping as close to the truth as possible would be for the best. Even if he continued to try reading her thoughts he'd get nowhere because what she said was true. She'd just never specify which mutual acquaintance wanted to get in touch and she knew enough occlumency at this point that she could block his attempts into finding out who exactly had sent her, leading him to make his own assumptions.

They stared at each other for a few moments, each daring the other to attack first. Finally, Dumbledore looked back down at the note she'd passed him and frowned breaking some of the tension crackling in the air.

"He wishes to send his greetings. From what I understand, you haven't spoken in years," Hermione explained, leaning forward and analyzing his confused expression.

"No," he whispered, "We haven't." He looked up at her. "I don't understand… What does he want from me?"

Hermione laughed and any remaining friendliness vanished from Dumbledore's features. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so grim. "What do you think he wants?" she asked acidly, "Your mind, your abilities with magic… You have built up quite the reputation for brilliance. He wishes to recruit you. Bring you back in the fold as it were."

"No," Dumbledore snapped. Tension flooded the room, crackling around them uneasily. "I refuse."

"He thought you'd say that," Hermione said easily, drawing a second piece of worn parchment from her pocket. She tossed it onto the table between them, watching as Dumbledore's face went white. He picked it up with shaking fingers and after reading the first couple of lines he let the letter drop to the table again. "He said, if you refused, to remind you of past indiscretions… He remembers the time you spent together rather fondly…"

Dumbledore swallowed hard. Hermione reacted on battle-honed instincts as he drew his wand in the next instant, snapping "Incendio" to destroy the parchment on the table, and then aiming at her. She flung herself from her seat and sank into a fighting stance, wand also drawn.

"That was just a copy. Besides, we have more of those," she reminded him, "An entire summer's worth of correspondence if I recall correctly."

Dumbledore seemed to snap as he snarled wordlessly at her. "No."

"A pity that," Hermione taunted, "I suppose we'll have no choice but to expose your past associations then. A shame. You've built yourself such a comfortable life here."

"I should call the Aurors in to arrest you for blackmail," Dumbledore hissed.

Hermione laughed again. "What is that saying… Oh yes… Don't shoot the messenger," she murmured, "Besides, I am expendable or he wouldn't have sent me." Not true in the slightest, just not to Grindelwald. A necessary lie though. She continued icily, "Eliminating me doesn't diminish the hit your reputation will take once the letters in our acquaintance's possession are delivered to the press. If anything happens to me, he'll assume you've refused his offer and make sure your summer of youthful indiscretion is plastered all over the tabloids. You'll be ruined."

Dumbledore's wand wavered slightly as he realized he would gain nothing by hurting her. She chuckled again as it lowered unsteadily and lowered her own cautiously. She couldn't really believe it had been so simple so far. Then again, Dumbledore was pushed to confront Grindelwald for whatever reason in her timeline as well. Perhaps not because he'd been approached by a representative but because he felt partly responsible for the blood spilt, but nonetheless, he'd gone after Grindelwald. They weren't really changing anything that had happened, just forcing his hand. "What are the conditions?" he asked heavily.

"You must make contact with him in three days' time," she said, "You will go to him, alone, without contacting any authorities, or informing anyone where you are going."

"Where?"

This was the tricky part. They couldn't set a meeting place because they were trying to set him up so they could find Grindelwald themselves. Abraxas had suggested they try to pass it off as a test and Tom had agreed. She shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, "You're a smart man. Figure it out. He expects you in three days. You make it to the meeting and negotiate a deal and all of this—" She waved a hand at the ashes on the table where they'd initially sat. "—goes away. We'll be seeing you soon." She brushed past him deliberately and waggled her fingers in farewell him as she exited the room and pulled her hood back up to shade her face from curious patrons.

She sagged once she'd made it far enough out of the village that she didn't think she'd be seen by prying eyes. She collapsed against a nearby tree and trembled as everything that had just happened with Dumbledore replayed in her mind. She'd done it. She'd pulled off the meeting without getting hurt or killed. There had been a couple moments when she'd wondered if he would try to duel her but he hadn't and she was free.

She grinned and spun to apparate to where she'd agreed to meet Tom in Knockturn Alley.

HG*TR

Tom fidgeted at the bar of the Hag's Hood anxiously awaiting Hermione's arrival. Dolohov was seated at a table in the corner of the small, dark room where he could keep an eye on all the activity in the shady establishment. Orion was lounging against the wall outside the bar and he'd left Abraxas back at the Manor with Thoros in case Hermione went back there for whatever reason. Abraxas was too recognizable anyway. Orion had been allowed to come as he wasn't a known associate of Tom's and they'd charmed his eyes to be a run of the mill brown so he'd be less recognizable. Tom and Dolohov frequented the bar regularly as they often stopped for a pint after work in the evenings before heading to the Manor for dinner.

He felt himself relax as the door swung open and Hermione stepped in. She sidled up to the bar beside him but didn't acknowledge him. They didn't want to take any chances that she'd been followed or that Dumbledore had placed a tracking spell on her as they had with him. As she flagged down the girl tending the bar for a butterbeer, Tom began mumbling detection spells under his breath. He felt his shoulders slump as his scans came up with no new enchantments on Hermione and jostled into her as he stood from the stool he'd stood on.

"Clear," he murmured under his breath as his mouth passed near her ear. She nodded imperceptively and scanned the bar carefully as he pretended to stumble over to Dolohov's table.

HG*TR

Relief flooded her as she made her way to stand beside Tom at the bar. She'd made it. All that was left now was to wait for Tom to clear her for any tracking spells Dumbledore might have placed on her as she left the Three Broomsticks. She doubted that he had – or that she'd somehow been followed – as he couldn't have known the nature of their meeting before arriving, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She drank her butterbeer relatively quickly when it arrived, especially after Tom gave her the all clear. She didn't want to by out in the open any longer than necessary. She paid for her drink and stood up from the bar catching Tom's eye from where he'd moved after she'd arrived. He nodded slightly and she made her way out into the dingy alley, nodding at Orion from where he lounged across the street.

She quickly made her way into a side alley off the main one and apparated. As she twisted in the air, she caught sight of the same man who'd caught her eye in the Three Broomsticks that morning. A hooded crow alighted on his shoulder in the split second she saw him, chilling her blood, and the man grinned and winked at her as she disappeared, sending another spike of cold down her spine. She reappeared in the Manor's library gasping because she'd finally placed where she'd seen him before.