The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter Three – Faces

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am paid nothing, don't sue

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Faces

She was sure she'd seen it. Almost positive. It wasn't the first time either. She'd seen it when she was at her parent's house the night she got back, she'd seen it the first night she was in her new apartment and now she'd seen it again. A face staring from a window that disappeared almost as soon as she saw it. It was creepy.

Hermione rubbed her hand over her eyes and moved the curtain back into place. She must be going crazy. A quick glance at the clock told her it nearly 3am. Not being able to sleep wasn't unusual, nor was waking up at 2:54am exactly. She always seemed to wake up then. She wandered from her bedroom to the living room of the flat she'd purchased a few weeks ago and put her cell phone on charge, noticing she'd forgotten and the battery was nearly empty and contemplated turning the TV on. Deciding against it she turned to head over to the kitchen when she heard a knock at the door. She hesitated, not really wanting to answer the door at this time of night and dressed in her pyjamas. Another knock. Carefully, she crept over to the door, not wanting to make a noise and tell whoever was on the other side there was someone up, and looked through the peephole. Nothing. When she opened the door a crack and peered outside again she saw nothing. A sudden noise on the street below made her jump and slam the door shut in panic. So much for not making it obvious she was awake.

Relief washed over her when she saw someone one the other side of the street picking a box up from the floor through a gap in the blinds. The person must have dropped it, that was what she heard. 'But what were they doing out at this time?' she asked herself 'Could they have been the person knocking on the door? What was in the box? What if it was- Stop it!' she scolded herself 'I'm going to get paranoid. Stop it now!'

She headed back to bed, definitely unnerved and didn't dare look out the window for the face.

***

Diagon Alley wasn't too busy that Friday morning. Hermione managed to get all of the items on her list and then began browsing for herself. She was in between to rows of shelves at the very back of 'Flourish and Blotts' bookstore (some things never die) when she nearly jumped out her skin. She took a book from the shelf at the same time as the person on the other side and heard a male voice shout her name from nowhere and the next thing she knew someone had her in a rib-crushing hug and all she could see of the person to try and work out who they were was a head of scruffy, jet-black hair.

***

"I don't know Evan, it seems a little weak," the young man informed his colleague.

"Are you sure? We've riddled it with strengthening charms and an anti-fall charm." Evan ran a hand through his brown hair and turned to face the man bent over the scroll displaying what he had spent a week working on.

"Not like that, I meant risky-weak."

"Risky-weak?"

"Yeah, they may not buy it, there's a flaw in it."

"How do you mean?" Evan couldn't see one.

"There's a rumour flying that they already have someone."

"You're joking!"

"Afraid not. Apparently the head of the Aurora Highers training team has been shopping, but he shopped quietly."

"Do you know who they've got?"

"No. All I've been told is that it's a witch from the New York office. They've claimed her for a year. She's good though, very good. Or so Boris says," explained the younger man and he took his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't believe the way his plan was falling apart.

"Is it Alana Cistern?" Evan asked his superior. Last time he had met Alana she had been very interested in the work the London office were doing, although that was two years ago.

"I don't know. I doubt it is though. Alana Cistern is one of the best under-covers the New York office have. They'd put up a fight before they let her go."

"She may be one of the best, but she isn't the best. I heard it was some other woman, can't remember her name though. Apparently she was the master-mind behind the Norway incident last year. Nearly got herself killed as well." Evan mused aloud before taking a loud slurp of his coffee.

"Evan, that's just a rumour, don't take it seriously. This woman may not even be a woman, or even exist. They could just be an invention or a cover up. You've met Alana; you know what she's like,"

"True, true. Then again, you could just be saying that because you're jealous." Teased the dark haired man, not meeting his friend's eyes.

"Jealous?" his friend inquired, raising a black eyebrow.

"Yes, jealous. Jealous because this mystery person is better than you."

"Nobody, Evan Sterling, is better than me."

"Really? You, Harry Potter, are getting cocky."

"Piss off," laughed Harry, "Come on, Flourish and Blotts won't be open forever,"

***

A/N: Sorry its short and took a wile to be posted!

I'd just like to explain something about chapter 2. Hermione hates Britain because of all of the bad memories she has of it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. The next bit may not be up for a while because I'm going on holiday soon.

Mione