:::cracks knuckles::: I guess I should just dive right in. It's my first story; I must admit I'm a bit nervous. :::sticks in toe::: well here goes nada. ::: jumps:::

Disclaimer thingamajig- A. I'm not J. K. I'm also not pretending to be her cause then I wouldn't be writing this since they don't allow computers in padded rooms. Therefore B. I don't own anything to do with the Harry Potter universe, as much as I wish I did. However C. I do believe the plot and any characters I choose to create are mine, but if you ask nicely or give me credit I'll let you play too. Cause I'm cool like that. In Summary D. Don't sue me, I don't mean anything by this and I am so poor if you did try I would probably be repaying you for the next twenty years.

Chapter One – In Which the Story Commences

Hermione stared pensively into her cup of coffee as she sat at one of the Toil and Truffle's outside tables.

Damnit, she thought to herself, I should have gotten some tea. Then I could have amused myself by pretending to be Trelawney, the old daft bint.

With a sigh, she sat her cup down and looked around at this particular section of wizarding Boston. People were out enjoying the warm September sun with their friends and families, while patronizing the various little shops that lined the street. The sounds of excited chattering and laughter flowed around Hermione as she absorbed the scene.

If only they knew. Well, as far as that's concerned I don't know that much either. If I don't find a lead soon there will be a Dark Mark up my arse before I find the bloody bastards. And you can't rid the world of evil if you're dead

It was as if the Death Eaters had in fact consumed that particular trait of mortality. They just wouldn't give up. The second war had been fought and won, with Voldemort and his bootlickers being appropriately trounced by the forces of good a la Harry Potter. Ding-dong the Dark Lord is dead, and his little lap dogs too.

So why, in the name of Merlin's bowling shoes, am I in America trying to confirm orchestrated Death Eater activity? Merlin you really hate me don't you? Don't answer that, you git.

After the war on the eve of their graduation from Hogwarts, Hermione, Harry and Ron had all joined the Ministry as Aurors. Unfortunately, policing the magical world wasn't challenging enough for Hermione, so she became a free-lance potions expert, often returning to work with the Ministry of Magic.

At least, that's what most people thought.

She was really part of an upper echelon of Aurors called the Patroni. The name taken from the Patronus spell, these witches and wizards worked as undercover operatives for the Ministry, and were considered the best line of defense for magical and nonmagical people alike. Well, those that knew about them thought so. These were some of the best and brightest of the wizarding world, both the active agents and the Dextrians, their version of Q from the muggle James Bond films.

And Hermione was the best of the best, which is why she was given this particular assignment.

Hrmph, they would have done better to give this to Ron for all that I'm getting accomplished.

Up until four months ago, there had been a few attacks by Death Eaters that somehow managed to escape the war. Those had been careless and sloppy and normally resulted in either the intended victim, if it was a magical being, or someone nearby, if the victim was a muggle, managing to hex the stupid prat seven ways from Tuesday. There was actually one incident where a ninety two year old muggle knocked out a Death Eater with a frying pan while he had his wand pointed at her. Needless to say the once feared band of masked Dark Lord followers did not strike the same note into the hearts of men as they once did.

And then something completely different happened.

When news broke about that first attack four months ago the Aurors investigating concluded that it was a new group, since it was a different style than anything the Death Eaters had ever tried.

But then a few worried whispers started circulating in the Auror halls of the Ministry of Magic.

People began to realize just how well organized the attack had been. No one could find any clues leading to a capture. If it weren't for the gruesome manner in which the muggles had died, one could almost assume they had simply succumbed from natural causes.

People still didn't think it was the doing of the Death Eaters, they had become more of a joke really, but after the second attack they were forced to rethink that opinion.

The Ministry called in the Patroni and Dextrians to examine the scene of the second attack. It was such a little thing that it was easy to see how they had missed it the first time. They would have missed it the second time too, if it weren't for the fact that one of the victim's bright green eyes reminded Hermione so much of Harry that she simply stopped working to look into the young girl's lifeless eyes.

And that's when she noticed it. The Dark Mark, which had hung above scenes of devastation years before, now floated faintly in the girl's irises. She quickly moved to another body, and sure enough there, barely discernable from the dark brown, were two more identical Dark Marks.

That was the confirmation they needed. The Death Eaters were back, and unfortunately, seemed to be stronger than ever.

Which brought Hermione to sitting in front of a café, in America, wishing that for once and for all the combined lot of the Death Eaters and whoever the hell was calling the shots these days would kindly go drown themselves in a lake.

It would only be the proper thing to do, she smirked to herself. Along with the Americans taking care of problems that happen on their soil instead of making her do it. But she knew why she was here: the last few solitary attacks had taken place on American soil, in and around Boston and Salem, hence why she was here instead of the Leaky Cauldron; and she was the best Auror on both sides of the pond with the most experience with Death Eaters and their charming ways. Even though they seemed to be dancing to a different tune, it was an undeniable edge.

However it doesn't matter if it doesn't help!! To come all this way to be outsmarted by a pack of ---- Hold on. No. It can't be.

Hermione's eyes focused on a head of white blond making its way down the street. She couldn't help but let a small gasp escape her lips as the figure drew nearer.

What in the fucking ninth layer of hell is Malfoy doing here?!?

AN: Well there it is! My first chapter of my first fan-fiction. I'm not going to demand reviews or I won't post, but I would certainly appreciate any advice you give! Oh the title is from a poem by John Donne, one of his holy sonnets. I'll try to get another chapter out with in the week, but I do have finals so it may wait until I after I get home. Anyhoo I hope you enjoyed it!

I would also like to thank Compellingold for helping me with my html difficulties and as thanks you should go check out her work! Thanks also to FoxyChic4u and ali potter for being my first two reviews and making me oh so happy!