A/N: 'Working for the enemy' is a standard trope when it comes to virtually any form of intrigue story. In the Harry Potter fan-verse, this often translates into 'X secretly working for Voldemort/Grindelwald/bashy trashy Dumbledore' due to X being secretly related/infatuated/agreeing with the villain of the piece. So how would this work in real terms-as in, what would actually persuade one or more of the heroes to join the bad guys' side? Well, here's one such piece.

The Executive Planning Committee

The soft hum of working ventilation systems pervaded the office as the two men walked in. There wasn't much to say about the office, really. It just looked like any other office anywhere in the world-row upon row of cubicles, each with exactly the amount of space needed for the worker to perform his or her duties in relative comfort. A desk built into one of the cubicle walls, a chair, a phone and a stack of files sitting next to reference books with a desktop terminal merrily humming away was the norm here. The spaces inside had little personal adjustments made to them by their habitual occupants-a photo here, a plant there, maybe even a stuffed toy or two if the worker felt the need to rebel at the conformity of it all. Workers dressed in shirts, black pants and their personal choice of footwear milled around, doubtlessly gossiping between bouts of work and coffee breaks.

"Remember, nothing you see or hear on these premises is to be discussed with anyone else. Before leaving, you'll agree to the standard oaths of secrecy. Until then, don't talk to anyone without permission. Clear?"

The rest of the office space was sparsely decorated with paintings and the odd lounge chair sticking out of the mass of pastel colours decorating the walls. A water fountain gurgled away merrily in the corner.

"Clear."

The centerpiece of the room held a map of the UK. Bright dots could be seen on the old wall-sized cartographic representation dating back to the fifties at the very least. The only indication that this was not your standard paper-canvas map was that, if you looked closely, the dots moved.

"Remember, we're here to work. I'll tell you more about that once inside, but it's vital that you remain consummately professional whilst in here. Standing out is a bad idea, got that?"

This was, for all intents and purposes, a normal office. Except for one key difference-nobody working there was normal by any stretch of the imagination.

"Yes."

"Keep it that way."

The photos moved. The paintings were not as still as one would think. The plants were decidedly odd. The water fountain could provide whatever you wanted, from coffee and tea to coca-cola, on tap, with a simple command. About the only normal thing around were the desktop terminal computers-except if you took a good long look at their operating systems.

The workers were wizards. Muggleborn, in point of fact. All working in secret, forbidden from using magic in their office hours, they toiled day-in, day-out in service of one supposedly advocating their destruction.

Hidden in an industrial estate on the very edge of London, with a stunning view of one of the M25's many tributaries, lay the headquarters for the Dark Lord Voldemort's central operations command.

"So then," Severus Snape adressed his companion. "Here we are."

"What?" Fenrir Greyback asked. "What is this?"

"This is where we plan Death Eater operations." The greasy-haired potions master, wearing a formal business suit for the occasion, addressed his similarly-attired companion. "Every raid, every move, every strategy the Dark Lord has implemented either originates from here or is tested here." Snape said happily. "You wanted to see where the Dark Lord does his planning, well here it is."

"But-" Greyback started, looking flustered as he saw the half-dozen workers milling about. "This is nothing like anything I'd imagined."

"That's the point." Severus stated in deadpan. "Despite appearances, the Dark Lord knows a thing or two about subtlety." Fenrir just stared at him. "Look, say you were the Dark Lord. If you want to hide your plans, how do you go about it? Do you either have your Inner Circle or known minions assist you which, while certainly making things easier, also means that their capture would severely compromise any plans they came up with? Or do you ensure that the people you go to for planning purposes are the next best thing to invisible and/or extremely unlikely to join your side in the first place?"

Greyback kept staring. "I don't get it."

Snape sighed. "Let's try this differently. The Dark Lord's followers-namely us- are well-known. You following me?" Fenrir nodded. "We also fight in His name, putting our lives and freedom on the line in order to satisfy His demands on a regular basis. This makes us more susceptible than most to either being captured or killed. See?" The werewolf nodded again. "Now while this is pretty much what makes us His favored, it also means that any information we may have on The Dark Lord's activities is at risk every time we conduct a raid, end up in a fight or even walk through a wizarding precinct."

"Okay, that's fairly straightforward." Greyback acceded. "But that still doesn't explain, well, them working for us."

"Indeed it doesn't. What you have to understand, though, is that the Dark Lord's initial planning methods didn't work very well. Every single plan he spent a decade or more working towards was useless after his fall, not because he fell, but because the entire Inner Circle was privy to them by that stage-and were more than willing to strike a bargain in order to get out of Azkaban. About the only ones that didn't agree to the deals were, well…"

"Us." Greyback growled, referring to himself and the other inmates the Dark Lord broke out a year ago.

"Yes." Severus said, smiling. "The only reason I didn't end up in Azkaban, despite not having any information to trade, was because I agreed to help Dumbledore at Hogwarts. In exchange for good behavior, I got to stay. Now that the man is dead…" He sighed. "Anyway, after His resurrection, the Dark Lord decided to limit the amount of information we have access to-all for good reasons, of course. However, that left him with a dilemma-He couldn't trust his Inner Circle with the information needed to allow them to help Him in these plans and He couldn't plan out His entire rise by Himself again within the timeframe we were working off. So a change of approach was needed. Follow me." Snape said, going to the far side of the office.

"I see. And this is what the Dark Lord came up with?" the werewolf asked, eyeing a mudblood he remembered going to school with strangely. "It's strange."

"No, actually, it isn't. It's only strange if you truly believe that the Dark Lord truly believes that all mudbloods-sorry" he said as one of the workers turned to glare at the man "-muggleborn must be killed in order to preserve the Wizarding World."

"Yeah." Greyback grinned savagely. "He said the same thing about werewolves until my pack joined. Changed His tune mighty fast after that."

Severus snorted. "And the same thing happened here. He had me approach a number of my former muggleborn classmates with an offer-immunity from persecution by Death Eaters and double their salary in exchange for helping Him rise once more. Most of them didn't agree and were killed, but some did. Those muggleborn then asked a few others, who asked a few more, who asked a few more and so on and so forth-and the Executive Planning Committee was born."

Snape stopped at the door and tapped his wand against the lock. "Rex Serpentium. Don't try to open any doors by yourself here, Greyback. Not unless you absolutely want the Dark Lord to wear your hide as a legwarmer, at any rate. So, they were all offered a job with us. Most were working dead-end jobs in the few shops and ministry roles they were allowed to. Only those in league with the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry refused point-blank, which didn't really affect the numbers that much. And the recruits were getting progressively younger too, so much so that we've effectively started an internship program for the younger applicants-one of which was fourteen, last I checked. By the time we went to Hogwarts last month, a lot of the seventh-year muggleborn were already working for us as intelligence-gatherers, raid schedulers, tactical doctrine planning and the like. They don't engage in raids unlike His true followers, but their assistance has proven to be invaluable on a number of fronts."

"Sounds like it's working then." Fenrir noted. "They really help us?"

"Oh yes, they most certainly did. Bungling though the Ministry may be, they're not the fools their actions proclaim them to be. Rookwood may have opened up the Department of Mysteries to intrusion, but it took a lot of mudblood agents working around the clock to keep it open. Indeed, your liberation from Azkaban wouldn't have been possible hadn't one of our employees rerouted that tanker into the path of the wards. And didn't you find it odd that the path was all but cleared for us?" Snape smiled. "Our little friends did very well indeed."

Fenrir nodded as yet another door swished open. "I see. And what do they do, really, apart from helping things along?"

Severus shook his head. "It varies. The core of this project is doing just that-planning Voldemort's takeover of Magical Britain, step by step. They're assisted by a number of promising minds who are learning on the job, as it were, preparing for the longer term plans of conquering the European Wizarding Enclaves and Magical Britain's transition from a backwater has-been to its former Imperial glory. The others help gather intelligence and run war games based on the plans delivered to them by the core Committee in order to test the plans. Yet others are organizing into squads of field agents that can operate both in the muggle and magical worlds. That's the bulk of them I believe." He paused, swishing his wand in a complicated pattern at an elevator door. "The rest of them handle Committee Administration, recruitment and back-office processes too sensitive to be handled by other branches of the Dark Lord's forces."

"Hmm." Greyback thought. "Why am I here, then?"

Severus frowned. "It's because we have problems with two of our most recent recruits. There are some… irregularities to address."

"Still doesn't explain why the Dark Lord wants both me and you here." Fenrir pointed out.

"There are special circumstances surrounding these two. Special enough to warrant the Dark Lord wanting to negotiate with them, at any rate. You are here ostensibly as a guard, but your real task is to pay close attention and use that nose of yours to detect whether one or the other is lying. I am here because, in all His wisdom, He has appointed me as His representative in this. If they are lying, we're to kill them with extreme prejudice." Severus told him.

The werewolf looked surprised. "Really? And just who are these two?"

Snape smiled. "Hermione Jane Granger and Harry James Potter." Lily would probably kill him when he got to the afterlife for this, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it while he still breathed.

Fenrir Greyback laughed.

The two teenagers were lounging around in the office's sofa when the Death Eaters entered. Granger's nose, predictably, was buried in a book much like Snape thought she would be. Traditional Tactics of Dark Wizards & Witches, by M. Cattermole. Heavy on detail, if Snape remembered correctly. It probably helped that Mary had been on the receiving end of said tactics more than once before she'd accepted his offer. The cup of coffee sitting next to Granger looked half empty. Potter was skimming through one of the Committee's recruitment pamphlets, probably thinking up some mischief instead of actually reading what was said on the pages. They didn't look particularly happy to be here. Not that Snape could really blame them. His task, after all, was to find out why they were here and if it was worth keeping them or not.

Fenrir sniffed the air, smiled and sat on the desk. Snape decided to ignore the insufferable werewolf and gazed at his two former charges with interest. They were dressed formally (which, given that this was an interview/negotiation, was appropriate) and were both carrying briefcases with them. Their wands were sitting on the small coffee table next to two small cups. They looked decidedly less healthy than the last time Snape had seen them, all pale skin and sunken cheeks. All in all, better than he expected upon entering the room. Snape straightened his tie.

"Right." He said slowly. Potter looked up at him before inclining his head and nudging Hermione, who looked up from her book and offered an equally subdued greeting to him and Fenrir. Greyback nodded back. "Any particular reason why you two are here?"

"Applying for a job." Potter answered. "You?"

"Conducting an interview with keen, well-prepared applicants. Happen to run into them anywhere?" Snape sneered back.

"Oh, honestly." Granger huffed. "We wish to join your organization."

"Indeed? You do know what we do here, don't you?" Greyback asked.

"You're planning to overthrow the Ministry of Magic in favor of Vol-the Dark Lord." Potter deadpanned.

"That, and figuring out ways to kill you." The werewolf said with a leer. Potter scoffed before muttering under his breath.

"And if we join your side, that's one less thing you have to worry about, isn't it?" Granger stated.

"Which begs the question as to why you intend to join those who'd kill you." Snape interjected.

"Well-."Potter started, then stopped. "The salary's nice-ow, Hermione!" he exclaimed, glaring at the girl sitting next to him before continuing. "Anyway, we've thought about the career opportunities on offer and decided to apply."

"And nothing more?" Snape asked in surprise. "You would put yourself at such a risk for a job?"

"Well, it's not just any job." He said darkly. "I get to help topple the government."

Granger glared at the boy. "Harry, we discussed this." She noted primly. "Just tell them the truth."

Potter's lips thinned. "Fine." He said. "Dumbledore's portrait activated before the start of summer holidays. We had a talk. He pointed me towards his pensieve."

"And the contents of that pensieve?" Fenrir asked, curious despite himself.

"He was set up." Hermione piped up as Potter faltered. "The Headmaster set him up as a sacrifice…" she frowned. "Not to mention that half-baked plan of his."

"Ah." Severus said in understanding. "And what memories were these?"

"Yours." Potter stated. "Everything from your school days to your last meeting with him."

"All that magic, all that power, all those plans and he's undone by wrongly labeling a vial." Granger said with a nasty-looking smile. "It… changed a few things."

Snape didn't dare speak, which left an opening for Greyback to butt in. "And what the hell did Sev's memories have to do with anything?"

"Let me put it this way." Potter clarified. "If we hadn't seen those memories, Hermione, Ron and I would currently be hunting artifacts left behind by the Dark Lord. We would be spending most of our time blindly stumbling around Britain trying to locate said artifacts until You-Know-Who caught up with me and killed me. Just like Dumbledore wanted him to." Potter shrugged. "I-we decided not to go with that plan."

"It still doesn't follow that you would just up and join us instead, you know." The werewolf pointed out. "In fact, what you just told me means that you would do everything in your power to get as far away from the Dark Lord as fast as possible."

"You would think so." Granger agreed. "But a number of things argued against us taking that course of action-You-Know-Who would catch up with and kill us eventually, for one. He's obsessed with Harry and the connection they share doesn't help." Fenrir looked startled at that piece of news. "That's what I thought too. Second, say we went through with the original plan. Harry dies. You-Know-Who, presumably, dies as well. What happens then? More of the same? Because that's what's happened every single time a Dark Lord has risen. Grindelwald rises, gets taken down. You-Know-Who rises, gets taken down. You-Know-Who rises again. If he gets taken down, someone will come along in a few years' time, take over where he left off and start the whole rigmarole again. In the intervening years, muggleborns lose more and more rights, magical creatures get hunted again, the pureblood Houses get richer and everyone else poorer. Then the next Dark Lord pops up, hunts a minority group or two in his spare time, kills off the heirs of some of the Houses, whose heirless assets then get sold off or put in trust, which fuels an economic boom while the muggleborn make a killing hiding the Dark Lord's targets in the muggle world until the whole thing blows over. And Merlin help you if it's a Dark Lady… So yes, we could run, but it wouldn't truly change the outcome."

Snape frowned. "What do you have to offer?"

Potter straightened. "For starters, Dumbledore's research on the artifacts in question. Most of it was told to no-one other than me. Ron knows the bare minimum-how many there are-, but that's it. Hermione knows almost all of it. I know all of it. Second, a new pool of recruits you can tap into. We have made many friends in our time, primarily muggleborn too. We can get them for you. Third, my backing. I am willing to offer complete support to You-Know-Who when he makes his move-as long as it doesn't involve me fighting or dying."

"And you?" Snape asked.

"Two properties in the muggle world. They're mine, under heavy wards and would make ideal safe-houses should they be needed. I have also done exhaustive research of the wards around Hogwarts, the Ministry, Gringott's and the dragon preserve in Romania." Granger stated.

"How did you come by all that?" The werewolf asked.

"I obliviated my parents and sent them to Australia. They conveniently left everything else behind." Hermione said with a sad frown, eliciting a cuddle from Potter. "As for the other material, it was meant to be my NEWTS project in Runes-picking out the flaws in the warding schemes and designing countermeasures. I've already mapped the wards, their flaws and backdoor entrances. I've got some ideas for the countermeasures but still have to work on the finer points of them."

"Okay then." Fenrir said, signaling for Snape to continue.

"Say that you are offered a post here." Severus asked thoughtfully. "What do you intend to gain from it?"

"I get to live." Harry growled. "Which is a damn sight better than what was on offer before. Also, maybe I can finally get someone to get rid of this damn scar for me, if that's not too much to ask for. That, and the salary's nice." He smiled sheepishly as Hermione glowered and poked him. "What? It is!"

"Potter, be serious please." Snape snapped, inwardly smiling at the look of hurt on the boy's face. Nice to know he could still push the brat's buttons. "And you, Granger? What do you get out of this?"

"You have to ask?" Granger said, worrying her lip whilst glaring at him.

"Yes, I do. The Dark Lord is incredibly keen to understand just why two members of the Golden Trio would turn traitor-as am I."

Hermione reared back and hissed like an angry cat. "It's not treason! He didn't ask to fight this war. I didn't ask to fight this war. I just want a normal life with my best friends. If you want to take over the wizarding world, as long as you stay away from my friends and family I could care less by this stage. I'm just… tired, really. This way, I get a nice job with my best friend, I don't need to hike across country fighting a fight that really shouldn't be ours to fight in the first place and I also join the most pro-muggleborn organization in Wizarding Britain."

"What?" Greyback asked.

"Oh, think about it!" Potter snapped. "You-Know-Who's got almost half the muggleborn population in wizarding Britain working for him by this stage. Most of my friends at Hogwarts have joined this damn organization because the benefits were better than anything on offer anywhere else! Did you ever stop to count how many so-called 'mudbloods' you've recruited in less than two years?"

"Yes, actually." Snape said.

"And how many is that?" Hermione asked in genuine curiosity.

"Seven hundred."

"You see?" Potter said. "The muggleborn working for You-Know-Who outnumber the Death Eaters by two to one. None of them have joined the Order or the Aurors in the past year because they found it better to come and work for you instead. And why not? They work for you, their families are safe! Hell, some of them even claim that they got their friends declared off-limits as well. And you people respect that because it's You-Know-Who's will! No more worrying about dying in the war, no more prejudice against who you are-compared to Wizarding Britain, this is paradise! As long as they work for him, they have nothing to fear." Potter shrugged. "You-Know-Who's done more for the muggleborn he employs than anyone else in the past century. And given the few plans he's working on, it's likely that this system'll keep working for a very, very long time."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Exactly. The Committee is now the place to go for muggleborn. Kind of ironic, but hey." She shrugged. "It's better than anything else out there."

"And your friends?" Snape asked carefully.

"Everyone knows." Potter said. "We left a note at the Burrow about it and told all our closest friends. I've done more than enough fighting for a lifetime. Hermione deserves better than what she was getting. Ron has his family and knows the score. If he could find a job here, he would have come with."

"More importantly, we told them why we were doing this and to run if we didn't drop them a message. Either way, as long as they don't fight, they're safe." Hermione shrugged. "Best we could do at such short notice."

"What about the other muggleborn?" Fenrir asked.

"Well, that's where this gets interesting." Potter said. "You see, I somehow doubt that You-Know-Who will just keep torturing people who could work for him one day."

"No, He does that to everyone." Greyback pointed out. "He packs a mean crucio."

"I know." The boy-who-lived pointed out. "What I meant to say was that, with his future plans, he'll need more and more people working for him. People who know how both sides, magical and muggle, work. The only ones who do are the muggleborn and the muggle-raised. If he wants his plans to be good enough to work, he'll come to us. I like to think he's starting to see that. Besides, the muggleborn are almost universally persecuted wherever you go, which leaves them open to someone willing to allow them a good life under their rule, no matter who that happens to be. They won't care if it's You-Know-Who as long as they can actually have a decent standard of living, a steady job and a future. It's something they'd be willing to fight for-and there's more of them than there are purebloods…" Harry shrugged. "You do the math on that one."

"And you're willing to support Him?" Fenrir asked. "He murdered your parents."

"I know." Harry agreed. "And if it were just me, I'd follow through with the original plan just to get a shot at him. But it's not about me anymore." He said, clutching Granger's arm.

Severus's breath hitched. "You're together, aren't you."

"Yes." Granger said.

Greyback smirked. "She's pregnant too. His, if the smell's right."

"What?" Granger shouted.

Severus face-palmed.

Lord Voldemort exited the Pensieve with a thoughtful look on his face. "So that was the prophecy…" He sighed. "Neither can live while the other survives." He smirked. "Well, well, well Albus. You definitely cocked that up, didn't you?"

"Milord?" Severus asked nervously.

"Think, Severus. What did I do on Halloween all those years ago?" He stalked closer to his most trusted Death Eater. "I died. Rather spectacularly too. A throw-away line at the end of a prophecy, one that specifically stated that one of us had to die for it to be fulfilled, and Albus interpreted it rather badly. I didn't live. Potter did. Ergo, fulfilled prophecy." He sniggered. "Oh, the old goat would be kicking himself if he were here."

"And the Potter boy, sir?"

"Hmm, him." The-one-formerly-known-as-Riddle snorted. "He is right, to an extent. With him telling me that others know about the horcruxes-a subject we shall talk about later, Severus-, I need to secure them. Him being one too makes this rather difficult, but not impossible. The boy is still and insufferable Gryffindor and, hence, difficult to control." The Dark Lord hmmed. "Maybe his new wife and future child will make it easier, but I doubt it."

"Potter is right, sir?" Snape asked, clearly puzzled at the earlier non sequitur.

"If I had foreseen the situation in which I now find myself, Severus, I would have force-fed you your testicles before giving you the Mark." The blood-red eyes narrowed as the Dark Lord scowled. "Using mudbloods for planning and information gathering indeed. What were you thinking?"

"That they were universally ignored at best despite their capabilities. And that nobody in the Ministry or at Hogwarts would suspect it." Snape deadpanned.

"Hah!" Voldemort shouted. "You spent too much time around that mudblood bitch in your youth, Snape."

"Indeed."

"And yet your stupidity has borne fruit. Five years of fighting, condensed into three months' worth of carefully planned surgical strikes. The Ministry mine by September, the Wizengamot routed by December and all of Magical Britain mine to command before Summer next year. I daresay that their effectiveness is rather spectacular." Voldemort patted Severus on the back. "However, that still leaves me with hundreds of mudbloods working for me, Severus. What would you propose I do with them?"

"Keep employing them milord." Severus offered. "They are commited now-some more than those willingly bearing your mark. Their effectiveness in gathering information and ensuring your victories has been undeniable."

"Hmph." The Dark Lord snorted. "Blood will out, Severus."

"And this little venture netted you the Boy-Who-Lived as a supporter. Blood may out, milord, but until it does…"

Voldemort agreed silently. "Who else knows of this, apart from Greyback?"

"Narcissa, milord, sworn to silence."

"Why did she go along with your deception?"

"What deception milord? I did exactly as you asked me to."

"I asked for planners I could trust. I asked for you to establish it in such a way that nobody would know about it until it was too late. And you gave me mudbloods!" He hissed, clearly pissed off at him.

"And yet…"

"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted. Severus collapsed and kept screaming until the spell was lifted.

"Milord." Snape croaked. "Think about it-you have hundreds of extremely capable wizards & witches loyal to you, who know how to travel by muggle means, know how to use muggle technology and can fight using both muggle and magical weapons. And they are loyal to you, milord!"

"Just because you are right, Severus, doesn't mean that I have to like it." Voldemort stated coldly. "And because you saw fit to pre-empt me, abuse my offer of immunity for your agents and waste so much money on this scheme of yours, then you shall be solely responsible for handling it. Take Narcissa and Greyback with you." He ordered as he left his erstwhile potions master to twitch on the floor.

Then it hit Severus. Voldemort had just promoted him to head the Executive Planning Committee, with all the responsibilities that entailed. Alongside Narcissa Malfoy, pureblood princess extraordinaire and Fenrir Greyback, the one man to whom both wizarding and muggle civilization was a bewildering thing best avoided, he was supposed to ride herd on half the muggleborn in England as well as-

He groaned, realizing what this meant. Even with the war virtually won, he was stuck babysitting Potter(s) again. Joy.