So…Draccy's my super-quick reviewer from last chapter.

Two of my three reviewers (Draccy and Hand 3) actually noted how short last chapter was considering the content. My only real explanation for that is that Genes' death was not the point of the story. I kind of have a tendency to kill off Hermione's family cuz it makes my life a bit easier. Genes was never going to survive she was just the facilitator for Hermione's encounter with Cayne, which had to happen cuz I needed to kill him off too. It'll make sense a bit if you read this chapter and think about it a bit (you'll see that I wrote myself into a situation where I could either keep Cayne alive and have him as my villain or kill him off and mess with everyone a bit more. As he's dead, you can tell what my choice was). I actually thought last chapter would have been longer too, but that's the way the cookie crumbles, I guess.

Also remember that this story was a quick side journey when I was bored and thus has no real substance/plot/point to it. Which is why it was fun to write. I never intended to post it, but then figured it was a waste of hard drive space if I didn't.

Enjoy.

--Aimes

One short broom ride and an apparition later, they were at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione proceeded towards the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and Remus followed her silently. He wanted to comfort her but he was unsure of what to do. This was hardly what he was trained for. Hermione poured two cups of coffee and handed him one.

"I'm such an idiot," she berated herself tiredly, slumping against the counter.

"Care to elaborate?" Snape queried as he sat at the table.

"We killed him, leaving us no closer to knowing who betrayed me. And until I know and remove the bastard, everyone's at risk. Mind you the degree of risk just decreased by quite a lot, but still." Hermione hopped up and back, sliding into a sitting position on the counter and swinging her legs.

"Yes, quite likely only your contacts in the Muggle world remain in danger. Do you have any idea who would want to betray you?"

"Who wouldn't? I've screwed a lot of people over since I started this job and any number of people would love to see me go down. The level of information…the degree of secrecy…I can count on one hand the number of people who know who I am. Most of the people I deal with don't even know my real hair color. So the list is short," she replied, staring into her coffee mug.

"And who does it include?" Remus pushed.

"ZT, my boss and mentor. I've worked with him for over ten years now and I've trusted him with my life. He's one of the few left from my training days who hasn't gone crazy or been liquidated. Craven. He's my counterpart in the underworld, a freelance problem solver. He's as good as I am, not that I'd tell him that, but usually on the other side. He'd never reveal my identity for the sole reason that I'd immediately retaliate."

"How did he come to know your identity?" Remus asked curiously.

"We faced a mutual enemy once, five years ago. We were both captured. Despite being adversaries, we hold a lot of respect for each other and we bonded a lot during the torture. We used stonewalling tactics to confuse our captors, giving them misleading and circuitous information and they got annoyed fast. They started using hallucinogenic drugs and body doubles to fool us into revealing something under the illusion of speaking to one another."

"So you revealed your identities, something only a handful of other people would know so that they couldn't trick you."

"Exactly. Besides, Craven would face me down if he ever wanted me dead. He's not the type to beat around the bush when he's got a semiautomatic that works perfectly well. And he left a message on my voicemail asking when mum's funeral was going to be. He had tea with her once," she explained at Lupin's blank look. "Absolutely loved her. Sent her a card and chocolates on her birthday every year. Craven wouldn't be so cowardly as to send flowers if he'd been behind it. There's also a bit that bothers me: if it had been Craven or ZT, why would Cayne need information about me from my sister? They've both met my family, they know me intimately…and a few vague inquiries in the wizarding world could tell him all about my life there. He would have had his bases covered."

"There is also the question of why he wanted to do this to you in the first place. He's mad but he could have found any number of easier women to destroy."

"Was that a compliment?" Hermione joked. "I'm flattered. However the answer to that question is Silas Zilner."

"The man you killed at the club in Paris?"

"Yes. Three years ago I had a mission that went very wrong. I conducted a tactical incursion with a team of four: myself, Zane, Ishtara, and Kalashnikov. When we got there we were targeted almost immediately after the breach. Turns out that Silas was having an affair with a witch name Siabella Cayne. Sister of our Cayne, wife of Bellemorte. Sharing really is caring, apparently. We triggered some wards and it was a complete fiasco: Zane and Kalash died, and Tara ended up a paraplegic with amnesia. To this day she has no idea what happened that night or for three years prior. I managed one kill before I got blown nearly to hell and it took several hours of surgery and most of my summer in the hospital to recover. I used a lot of concealment spells that year, let me tell you. Summer before my fourth. With all the Goblet of Fire stuff, no one noticed if I was tired or limped sometimes." She hopped of the counter and went to the fridge, rummaging for food.

"I did. I figured you hurt yourself on one of your wild adventures with Harry.. Was your one kill Siabella? I remember hearing she died that year. Severus told me Cayne was livid." Hermione found a bowl of pasta and took it back to her spot on the counter as Remus watched her with interest.

"Yes. All Cayne, Bellemorte and Zilner ever knew about me was that my name was Smoke and I could score a head wound from three hundred yards with a handgun while running. I didn't hear anything about it afterwards but that Zilner was livid and had put a contract out on me for seventeen million pounds. Craven told me over dinner after he refused the contract."

"Why did he refuse it?" Hermione gave him a brilliant, quirky grin.

"He said he'd have to go to the funeral if he killed me, to comfort my mum, and he didn't think he'd enjoy facing her. It was his way of saying we're friends of a sort. He's become much more expressive since." She dug into the pasta with relish.

Remus took on a intensely pensive expression.

"I must admit I'm rather impressed," he said slowly. "You've been leading an effective triple life. And with all that's happened to you…your family…you're still very strong. That's more than most people can credit themselves with."

Hermione gazed at him for a moment before responding. "Letting them kill me or harm others would just be another failure to my family. They're gone…but I haven't the time to grieve for them now. Don't worry, when the time comes, I'll be blubbering with the best of them."

Lupin shrugged. They were interrupted by a ring from Hermione's pocket. She pulled out her cell phone.

"Smoke." She listened for a moment with her back to Remus, suddenly going stiff.

"Lissa? How? When? What did it say?" Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. This is a nightmare. She hit the end button and turned to him, pale.

"Lissa Night. The last of my surviving trainers other than ZT. She discovered me and worked with me a few years after I first entered the program, before I was Smoke. Back when I was still Hermione G. She's been shot. A note was carved into her abdomen. It said 'spare the rod.'"

"What does that mean?"

"It's an old saying: Spare the rod, spoil the child."

"Yes, I've heard it. What does it mean in this context?"

"That a dead woman's stalking me." She slid down the counter till she was sitting on the ground staring straight ahead. Crazies I can deal with. Dead people? No, absolutely not.

Remus knelt in front of her. "You'll have to be more clear with me, Hermione."

"My head trainer. She trained me for about five years before ZT took over. Oh God, she's dead, she died years ago. I shot her in the head." She looked up at him in pure shock.

"Start at the beginning Hermione," he said soothingly, taking her hands in his.

"My head trainer," she said with a deep breath. "Her name was Mella Dromos. The Bitch. She was a firm believer in corporal punishment. I met my first knuckle sandwich at her hands. She trained me not to feel. Not to feel anything. Not pain, not anger, not hate, not love. I was five years old and she made me into a machine. Lissa met me when I was seven and was horrified. She convinced the heads of the program that Mella was nutters and they transferred my training to ZT when I was about nine. The damage was fairly well done, however. They managed to spark my loyalty and love mechanisms because those are pretty hard to destroy, but not to any great degree. I was…dead, sort of. Every time I began to feel, I'd have a Pavlovian flashback to her beating me or something and I'd shut off. But she made me the best. So good, in fact, that when she came to claim me, as her 'prize,' I shot her in the head without a second thought. It was the year before I came to Hogwarts. She thought that having me as her personal pet and assassin was the least the government owed her after her years of loyal service. I did not agree." Hermione shuddered.

"Hermione, I have watched you with your friends and your family. You are not dead in any way. You have better coping mechanisms than most and are much more pragmatic than the majority, however you are very much alive and feel quite capably from what I've seen. If it is this woman, Dromos, we must find her and kill her properly then return to Hogwarts before things become suspicious."

"You're right," Hermione said calmly, collecting herself. "I killed her once, I can kill her again, and this time I'll dismember her or something to make sure she doesn't come back. It makes sense after a fashion. She didn't know anything about me but that my new operative name was to be Smoke. Other than that, Mella was never privy to my personal data and I never volunteered it." She took the proffered hand from Remus and brushed herself off after he pulled her to her feet. "How are we to find her though?"

Lupin eyed her. "Locator spell."

Hermione grinned ruefully. "You're thinking that I'm an idiot because it doesn't occur to me to use magic."

He grinned in response and Hermione shrugged. "Let's get to it then."