Author's note: First things first, we do not own Harry Potter. We, Eternity's Angel of Mercy and Midnight Rain, are glad to give you our first Harry Potter Fanfiction (together) that actually has a plot. I don't know who said the quote down there, if you do you can tell me.

Beneath the Masks

Chapter one

&

Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear
For I wear mask. I wear a thousand masks,
masks that I am afraid to take off
and none of them are me.

&

A booming noise that seemed to chill to the very bone echoed throughout the cells. Something unearthly filled the air; something no one had heard in a very long time. Laughter. Only this laughter was manic. It was high and shrill, the multiple voices rising to a crescendo that was as eerie as it was uncommon.

Dementors shuffled toward the door that led to the outside world. One of them reached out a sickly arm, opening the suddenly unlocked door. He stood to the side, keeping the door wide open, as if waiting for something.

Soon, black dressed figures, snickering and laughing as they walked, glided toward the opened door. In an instant, they were all through the door and out of the Prison.

That night, there was a mass breakout. All of the Death Eaters and servants to Voldemort had escaped from Azkaban without even a single alarm.

&

Hermione threw down the Daily Prophet, looking about ready to explode. "Have we not told Fudge over and over again?!" She ranted, grabbing her mug of water and taking a large gulp from it. She looked as if she was trying to drown out her nasty, snide remarks about the Minister of Magic that she had undoubtedly wanted to utter.

Harry sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose in an aggravated, weary motion. "More times than we can count," he answered.

Ron frowned, leaning back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk. "He probably just thought it was another one of Harry's crack-pot ideas, you know?" Seeing Hermione's annoyed scowl at his terminology, he added quickly, "Well, I mean, ya know that he's bloody dead set on makin' people think Harry's a nut case now, ever since he and Dumbledore proved that Voldemort really is out there."

"That has nothing to do with it, Ron," Hermione snapped peevishly. "Besides, don't you think Fudge realizes what a stoic man he has made himself seem like now that all of this has happened and he barely bats an eye?" She shook her head, glaring at the front page of the Profit, which covered the previous night's Azkaban break out.

"That's not all true. He must be worried if he is sending you and Ron to investigate," Harry said softly, pointing out what had them so riled up in the first place.

Hermione made a very rude sound in the back of her throat before downing more of her water. Harry and Ron exchanged looks of comical, wry amusement.

"I'm gettin' a bit hungry, m'self," Ron began, standing. "You two wanna go down to the wreck room and get somethin' to eat?"

Harry shook his head no mutely. Hermione shook her head, sighing, and then fanned herself with a hand, screwing her face up in disgust. "Is it oddly hot in this room to you?"

"It's always hot in the Auror's department," Ron argued before reach over and grabbing the Daily Profit. He then proceeded in trying to fan off his overheated friend with it. "Hey, look, I finally found a good use for the paper!"

Hermione snatched the paper from him, frowning. "Oh go get some food and quit bothering me. I'm going to go over that tattoo spell one last time before we actually have to use it." She then looked down at her forearm, grimacing. "I can't believe we have to do this undercover business. Posing as a Death Eater is too risky. Don't you think Voldemort would know if someone was a Death Eater of his?"

"We stick to the plan," Ron said simply, "and that is to say we were randomly branded by one of his members back before Harry killed him. We pose to be older; I'd say thirty sounds like a good age, don't you agree?" Ron then shrugged. "Well, Hermi, you figure it out. You're the brains of this outfit."

With that, he exited the room, leaving Harry and Hermione in the small office the three shared.

Hermione let out a depressed sigh. "I really wish you could come, Harry."

"Now that would be way too risky," Harry said, forcing a smile. He tried to pretend that it didn't bother him. He tried to act like the fact that his two best friends were now going on a mission without him; one that he had every right to go on. "I mean, what would stop them from seeing my scar?" he continued, all the while cursing himself. Even though he knew that it was for the best, that made him take it no less hard.

This is not fair, he thought, scar prickling in response to his anger. I should be the one to go against Voldemort. I should be able to do this myself!

Harry's thoughts froze when he saw Hermione raise her wand, painting it at her pale forearm. He paused, watching, seeming intrigued. Curiosity -for the moment- outweighed the despair of his situation.

First a skull appeared; the ink-like substance coming from her wand was gliding over her flesh eerily. Then, the shape of a snake, poised for an attack, was coiled and coming from within the skull's mouth. The Death Eater mark.

Hermione made a breathy sound of approval. "It worked," she said proudly. "It worked!"

Harry nodded, leaning back in his chair and watching the girl. Even after two years of living on their own and having no professors to tell them "no", Ron, Harry, and Hermione were still close. The three were some of the best Aurors in the Wizarding world; they were looked up to and, to Ron's absolute amazement, respected.

Harry forced a smile before standing and walking over to Hermione. "Well, I want to say good luck. Be safe, and don't let the Death Eaters too close; I understand that you have to keep up the appearances, but please don't ruin it. I don't want to loose you two." He said all of this quickly, his voice rushed. He wasn't used to such things as good-by's, especially not when they concerned Hermione and Ron.

Hermione smiled softly and stood, hugging Harry. For once Harry found himself able to return the gesture without hesitation and without worrying what she meant by the affection. He knew what she meant: it was simple reassurance. Everything would be alright...

&

"Hermione," Ron tugged on Hermione's voluminous robe sleeves and whined softly as they walked up to the large, dark mansion, "Hermione, can we go back home?"

"Hush, Ron," she said softly, pulling her black sleeve out of his grasp before running a hand over her hair. She had spent close to two hours on it today, making sure it laid perfectly flat, framing her thin face.

Ron looked...normal.  Aside from the fact that he had magicked his freckles away and transformed his hair to a shimmery, raven's wing black, he looked perfectly the same. He wore black apposed to his usual gray or casual robes, and his face was white and pasty with fear. 

"Hermione," he whimpered, "someone's coming!"

Although they had seen no buttons or cameras at the large front gate, still someone had noticed their arrival. That someone was coming toward the gate at the precise moment.

Hermione and Ron could tell who it was before the person even arrived at the gate. With a swift motion of the hand, his hood fell off his head, revealing the blonde color that only one person could accomplish.

Draco stopped at the gate, frowning at the two. His hand was in his robe pocket, obviously toying with his wand. "Who are you two?"

Hermione forced herself to keep the shock off of her face.  "We're here to see our Lord.  Let us in," she said sharply.  Her tone held no room for argument.

"I have to see the dark mark before I allow you to enter," he smiled at her, letting her see that he thought she posed no threat.

Hermione and Ron, in fluent, practiced movements, raised their forearms, letting their sleeves drop back.  The faux Dark Mark glistened against their skin, seeming to move in the light.

Draco removed his wand from his pocket, and with a tiny flick and a mumbled word, caused the gate to swing open. "You know the way there, I take it?"

"It has been a while," Hermione said, eyeing Draco.  He had changed.  Taller, more defined of a man... She then sniffed, pretending to not like what she saw.  "But, I am sure that our Lord will need you back in the stalls with the horses where you belong.  I am sure my brother and I can find our way there."

"I'm sorry, you must not recognize me," he crossed his arms, looking doubtful as to whom he had let into the mansion's yard. "Or it really must have been a long time."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, allowing a smirk to grace her mouth.  "Oh, I recognize you very well, Draco Malfoy.  You were that sniveling Lucius' son, weren't you?  Yes, fit for the stables you are..."

Draco's smug look disappeared from his face and he grabbed Hermione by the robe collar. "Do not talk about my father that way. I will not allow it, but then again, Voldemort will deal with you."

Hermione smiled, her new role as Death Eater giving her a superior feeling of bravery.  "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" she asked, voice merely a whisper. "Did I accidentally speak about the poor, deceased Malfoy Senior... killed by none other than Harry Potter himself..."

"Follow me," Draco said calmly. "Let me take you to the Hall where you will meet the Dark Lord." Draco turned around with a swish of his robes, leading them off down the gravel path.

Hermione turned, looking back at Ron.  He had dutifully let her do all of the talking.  The two followed Draco.  Ron's hands were sweaty and slick, but he concealed them inside of his large robe sleeves.

 Draco pushed open the door, glancing briefly at Ron, and then doing a double take. "You look very familiar," he whispered, before shaking his head. "Hurry up, get inside. I don't have all day. I have other things to do than lead you around the mansion you should know by heart," he snapped.

"Hold your tongue, child," Hermione hissed at him, even though her form didn't appear much older than his, "or you will learn true pain."

Draco's eyes widened, before he smiled brightly. "Right… pain, on me?" He shook his head, still laughing to himself as he walked past them, letting the door swing closed. "Follow along now and don't get lost."