Disclaimer: Not owning Harry Potter. Sadly, Ms. Rowling, who is richer than the QUEEN, has those claims. You think I could buy Draco off of her? And if not, you think I could buy Tom Felton as a personal slave?

-Achicagoil, or Kim, who is rather contemplative at the moment

NOTE: Excuse any mistakes. I have no beta. I don't particularly WANT a beta at the moment.

Melodrama At Its Finest

rated: PG-13 methinks

Prologue and Chapter One

Prologue: At the Funeral

Many people would stop to stare at me when I told them, "Yeah, I'm her little sister." It went to show me how much she DID talk about her family. That might have even been the reason Mum and Dad shipped me off to Salem's instead of Hogwarts. Not that they WANTED to have another witch in the family. They weren't dumb.

She, on the other hand... 'The brightest witch in a century,' was mentioned a lot in her eulogies. Book smarts, yeah, I agree. But when your world's at war and you happen to be a best friend with the number one target for the enemies... That's something you keep quiet from your parental units.

Maybe that's why she was considered the 'good child.' Because she was not only smart, she told them things. Like, "Oh, yeah, our world's at war," and "You remember that guy, Harry? They're out to get him. Isn't that fun?" or even, "They're putting me into a Safe House. Don't worry." Hell. You even got a "My Bulgarian, pro-Quidditch, ex-boyfriend, now pen-pal's evil! Can you believe that?"

I'll miss her. Don't get me wrong. I cried a lot when I heard she was dead. I cried a lot before, during, and after the funeral. I was the walking Niagara Falls of Europe. But I was shocked, more than anything, when I think about it. It's just... You walk into the dorm room you share with ten other girls your age and BAM! "Anni, it's your sister. She's been murdered under You-Know-Who's orders. They found her body in that town outside of Hogwarts. Apparently, she saved at least seven lives or something..."

One moment, she's there, nagging you about how 'Pluto does NOT have small colonies of little green men populating themselves on the moon Miranda (Which is ACTUALLY a Jupiter moon, you moron), so would you please change this in your essay? No, I don't care that you needed those extra few inches on the parchment and NO, it would NOT be any better if you just changed 'Miranda' to 'Charon'. Honestly, you slacker...' and the next minute, she's in an oversized pencil case.

People kept on saying how 'She left us bravely.' She didn't leave. If you leave, you can always come back. Like with moving. You don't know how much I just wanted to scream out, "She's NOT gone! She's DEAD! Dead and cold and soon to be decomposing in a SHOE-BOX!" Wasn't anger part of the Recovery-Steps that they've been mentioning? I truthfully wouldn't know.

But I nearly did scream that out.

I surprised people at the funeral. I suppose not even her teachers knew about "the little sister". Her friends didn't. I know that much. I would have laughed at their reactions when "Antigone Granger and two other young ladies from Salem's Witching Academy have arranged a song for the passing of her elder sister," was announced. You know. If it weren't the funeral of my only sibling.

Singing was the only thing I had held over Mia.

The funeral seems blurred to me. All those people, all giving us their best wishes or telling us how amazing Mia had been. The odd looks I had gotten from people who had known Mia and hadn't known about me. The things said about Mia, all repeating the others with synonyms. None of these people had known her!

After the funeral, however. I remember that memory as clear as the early July day it had been held. I had been standing in front of the tombstone I had helped design. I had spent all waking hours for a week, searching for a saying, a paragraph... ANYTHING from the texts, the tomes, and the novels she had in her room, when I had found what I was looking for out of a book of poetry. When designed, I knew the stone would be expensive. I had a lot of engraving I wanted on it. But it hadn't mattered. On the front was a poem. On the back was the first line of "Amazing Grace" in music staff.

"She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

By Lord Byron, from 'She Walks in Beauty,' isn't it?" a cold voice had asked from behind me. It had been the man I recognized as her potions master.

I had nodded and he had sighed. "I'm going to hate myself for admitting to this, but your sister was the most brilliant witch I ever taught. She would have made a brilliant potions mistress. Or a brilliant transfigurations mistress. Or pretty much brilliant at any subject she was to tackle..."

"Runes," I had interrupted. "She was going to go to La Fayette in the fall to gain a masters in Ancient Runes." I had mentioned a high-class wizarding and witching college outside of New Orleans in the United States. I was familiar with the school, it being the sister-school to Salem's.

He had been making me angry. I remember feeling anger at his raised eyebrow and nonchalant expression. "Jealous?"

He hadn't taken too kindly to my snarl. "Bitter. I have always been bitter towards Hermione. I loved her. I love her still. But she haunted me all my childhood. I was always in her shadow. And now that she's dead, I'll STILL be in her shadow. Wouldn't you be bitter?"

He had nodded. "I'm sorry, child. With her being gone, you no longer have the opportunity to shine over her. She's not there to compete against." He had sighed, and continued, "I should have warned her. I suspected it would happen. I should have stopped him..."

I had turned to him, slowly. "Tell me. One thing. Who killed her?"

Authoress notes: Sad, yes. I'm waiting for the "YOU KILLED OFF HERMIONE!!!!!!!!!" fans. It was necessary... I'm sorta basing the end off of "Means to an End" but not really... just with the whole, "He loved her, she loved him, he killed her because she was in the way of his power" aspect. If you have NO clue what I speak of... well... ^_^! Either read "Means to an End" or stick with the story... Heh heh heh...

CHAPTER ONE: And In the Meantime...

That was six years ago. I'm now older... Not as naive... A spy for an American order against Voldemort. Hell, I'm legal under AMERICAN terms. I hit my 21st two months ago, in February. I had gotten pretty pissed that night, but that's against the point.

The organization. We're like an Order of the Phoenix except we get paid and have... vengeance. You know... one of those teams that get funded by the government, but silently. That way, when supporters of the dark side go to attack, our ministry plays stupid ("Mysterious galleons disappearing to the snipers? Say what?") and the blame goes to the Company-That-Cannot-Be-Found. Like... an undercover assassinations guild full of spies.

Actually, that's pretty accurate now that I think about it...

As soon as I had graduated from Salem's, La Fayette had accepted me. Two years in their potions department led to my masters in potions. What can I say? It's like baking, but with arsenic.

I got involved with the Order of Hecate almost immediately having graduated from La Fayette. I had been cornered in an alley outside a small pub by one of the lead assas- spies?. Byron White was his name and... well, I guess I can admit I wasn't running all -too- fast away from the guy. He was quite a looker. Not to be confused with hooker, although... ahem... He was an easy lay if you had a model figure.

His proposition had been appealing. "To leave your sister's shadow. To kill her killer. Vengeance. Show them you're more than she ever was, and that you'll stop at nothing and won't allow anything to get in your path. Join us." I couldn't refuse, and this was where my life changed.

I had to drop all communications. My parents, my friends, everybody. I couldn't even keep my name. 'Antigone Granger' was down the drain. That's how in depth we were. And how pissed we made our foes. Anybody who knew us was an obvious target. That's one difference between the Order of Hecate and the Order of the Phoenix. The relatives of the Phoenix were a constant target. Their children, their family, even their friends and acquaintances. We didn't have those. We had co-workers.

So, I was Delaney Dimenticato. Roughly translated, it's 'Forgotten enemy's child.' I had spent THAT week on "Babynames.com," searching for something meaningful.

I was snapped out of my reverie at my desk by a folder slamming down. I looked up sweetly at Byron, who seemed to be in a rather lousy mood. "Who walked out on you this morning?" I questioned.

He snarled back at me. "Kindly keep your nose out of things it doesn't belong in, Lady Pry," was his all too quaint reply. Scottish accent AND a gentleman. What more could I ask for?

My grinned reply was all I needed to show my smugness at getting under his skin. "Woot. Another assignment. Who am I killing off this time?" I wanted to know. He shook his head back at me.

"Sbagliato sold a couple of us off to the Phoenix. I shudder to think at the price she was asking for. Anyway, about four of us are off to number 12 Grim-something-or-other and get to play spy for as long as our services are required," he explained.

My button nose wrinkled at this. "Is she aware that these people may recognize me?" I wanted to know. He raised his finely-shaped eyebrows at me.

"You saying you haven't changed a bit since you were... what? Fifteen?" he wanted to know. He got a dead-pan look as a reply.

"Clearly, somebody ELSE in this world underestimates Albus Dumbledore. Hecate members have crossed paths with him all too often to STILL follow this folly. He's not dumb and he's extremely thorough. He does know about our... revised documentations of living," I replied, crossing my legs and placing them up on a desk. Byron shrugged.

"A little hair-dye and some contacts to cover up your beautifully blue eyes ought to work. You're going, whether you like it or not. If I'm getting dragged to England, you are too," Byron chuckled, stepping out of the office. My one-fingered gesture was all I needed to explain how I was thinking.

----------------------

"What were you thinking, Albus? These people... they cannot even be considered as such! They're little more than assassins!" an angered Severus Snape screeched out across the tiny kitchen of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. Albus's eyes twinkled dangerously.

"I know what I'm doing, Severus. We needed help that could be considered... a bit more daring and educated for the situations they are going to be placed in. I would hardly send Molly to chat with rogue vampires, but our accompanists do so quite often," Dumbledore quietly argued.

"In other words, he's not willing to send you guys off to a Murder Mission, but we're used to them," a cold voice called from the doorway. I had to give it to Corbin on entrances. She was quite amazing at getting a spotlight.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Corbin. They could hardly considered 'Murder Missions.' I mean, it's not like we're the ones being killed off. And it's not like we kill those we... come in contact with. We just get the more disagreeable tenants and aren't afraid, so to say, to boink them to another plane of existence," I added, fingering my newly blackened hair. I had nearly -CRIED- when losing the blonde locks.

"Who's being melodramatic? It's obvious their opinion isn't too high of us as it is, Delaney," Byron snorted. I shrugged.

"Their loss, not mine. Not really caring. Wanting to get this mission over with and order a pizza," I replied.

Donovan, the last member sent to the Phoenix (and ALSO rather good looking), smirked sardonically. "They never mentioned insanity being part of the deal, did they?" he asked in the remarkably quiet voice he had. It's one of those voices that RINGS out across others, yet is considered soft.

"I'm quite used to insanity. I have a cousin sitting in St. Mungos in a straight-jacket this very moment," Albus informed us evenly, but his gaze resting on me. It was hard not to miss the surprised look on his face and I snarled at Byron. So much for 'hair dye and contacts.'

"Do you really? One of my friends did a thesis paper on insanity wards of Western Europe a couple years back. You'd be surprised at what you'd find in them..." Byron trailed off.

I smirked. "He's talking about the nurses," was my added comment.

He glared at me. "If you're insinuating a war between the two of us, it can be arranged, Dimenticato."

I rolled my eyes. "More than you can chew there, buddy. Who'd contact said vampires without me around?" I wondered. The wizarding world was not fond of the undead, but several years in New Orleans had helped somewhat with my fear of them. When you got past the fangs and the whole blood-thing, they were quite delectable.

"We wouldn't. Not even Voldemort bothers with the Vampyric-cults. Their opinions of 'right' and 'wrong' border in the same shade and they do as they please. It's near impossible to convince them to a side and are easily swayed by temptation. Nearly indestructible, immortal, and dreadfully strong. You're stupid to bother with their kind," Corbin stated.

I do believe my sardonic smirk placed my name on the Potions Master's hit-list. Many found it unnerving, even co-workers, and could easily lead to misleading thoughts on where my loyalty lay. My need for carnage and chaos towards my sister's killer, however, was too great to even consider becoming a turncoat. "That's very prejudiced. It's like saying werewolves are horrid, stupid creatures who love killing. And I know that to be very untrue. Didn't you have a werewolf teacher under you at one point, Albus?" I asked the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

He nodded. "I still do. Remus has been a great help to our Order and is one of my most trusted acquaintances," he added.

I raised my eyebrows. "Isn't he related to Romulus?" I wanted to know, stating a close friend of mine. Romulus Lupin had been one of the very few I could not part my friendship with, although against Hecate's orders. He, unlike me and very much like the vampires, was easily swayable to which side he chose, but was a given help to said side. For a while now he had been assisting me with what I wanted, and was the main reason for my 'deadliness.' Places where I would go noticed, he would not. Hell, the man had a well-known name in Knockturn Alley and equally known through the European Ministry as a 'provincial menace to society.' The animosity between him and his brother was quite unlimited, though. Their meetings, few and far between, would always end with one or the other (and sometimes both) unconscious.

Dumbledore nodded. "Sadly, though, I could not trust Romulus as I do this brother. He is easily tempted by the 'next-highest-offer' within politics," was the dry statement. Severus snorted at the overly modest description, and Corbin (our mission leader) was snapped into her manners.

"Allow me to introduce our team. Byron White, Donovan Fidèle, Delaney Dimenticato, and I'm Corbin Oublié. We all have separate specialties in different fields," she paused for a moment to recollect. "Byron's our dark arts specialist. Bloody brilliant at dark curses and hexes, and could probably challenge Malfoy Senior in a well-met duel with completely illegal curses. Donovan's our undercover worker. Wonderfully sneaky, knows Voldemort's inner circle like the back of his hand. I'm initial intelligence. It's my job to work out plans and techniques before sending yonder off. If any of them die, it's my head that gets taken as well. And then we have Delaney. Foreign specialist and resident potions mistress. She graduated from La Fayette when she was 19 and has been part of the order for three years," Corbin introduced.

I grinned wickedly, it being a specialty of mine. 'Foreign specialist' was a broad term. "I'm not a foreign specialist. I'm the abnormal-diplomat. They send my rear to the More-Dangerous-Than-Human beasts and I'm to deal with them. And before you think of sending me to the giants, I'll tell you 'I quit' for that mission. They're one of the few monstrosities I refuse to deal with. Trolls being another," I thought out loud.

"Then it's a good thing we did not intend on sending peace to either. We have attempted visiting the giants. It resulted in pain for us and bribery for McNair. As for the trolls... We wish to have beings that will assist to our aid, not add to our troubles," Snape spat. It had caught him quite off guard to hear another potions master to be within the vicinity, and added to his extreme dislike of me.

"Okay, Spoc, where do you intend to send me?" I queried.

I also immediately regretted asking, for the smiles I received were most evil, and I seemed to be the only one not in on their joke. It would be a LONG employment.

So... chapter one over. It's a bit jumbled, and not the best written, and Anni may seem like a Mary-Sue, but I'm attempting for it not to be as such. Really, I am!

Stay tuned for chapter two, where our heroine despairs at being sent to sexy yet immortal and EVIL creatures!