A/N: I'd really love your guy's feedback on this one. Please R&R. Tell me what you think, and how I'm doing. I appreciate the comments and constructive criticism. Also, I'll probably be cleaning up former chapters and fixing continuity errors and such. Little things that won't change the main plot.

Thanks so much and enjoy!


Chapter 32: Murder on the Mind

"Avada Kedavera!"

"Protego Maxima!"

A combustion of energy erupts between Hermione and the man, forcing him backwards twenty feet or more, slamming into the wall, knocking down and breaking a couple of portraits. The occupants flee from sight. He slumps to the ground, unconscious. Blood trickles down an open wound at his temple.

Soo-jin appears at Hermione's side who can't help but roll her eyes and choke out, "Oh, God, it's you."

"Good thing, yeah? Finite Incantateum." The tethers release her limbs and neck. Hermione sucks in a deep breath, glaring at the woman before rage overpowers her logic and tries to attack her "savior". She's only able to jerk spastically as her brand flares. Every muscle in body clenches. She falls to the floor, and her tongue catching in her teeth as they clamp down. Blood fills her mouth and drains down her throat causing her to choke.

"I'm making it worse," she remembers Malfoy saying.

She vaguely notices Soo-jin frowning, looking at her brand and catching the book on the floor. Her eyes narrow. "You went messing with it, didn't you? For God's sake, you could've killed yourself, you stupid woman!"

Waving her wand, the book bursts into flames and disintegrates into ashes in seconds. Hermione can't even comprehend the notion to care right now. Soo-jin then grabs Hermione's forearm, touching certain parts of the brand and muttering words under her breath. Hermione's muscles unclench, her entire body bathed in sweat. She twists herself, so her upper half faces downwards. She vomits violently. Her stomach and lungs convulse, and bloody snot drips repugnantly out of her nose. Soo-jin pats the space between her shoulders, clicking her tongue.

"There, there. Get it all out, 17. I'll ask how you found out about the book later, yeah?"

"Fuck you, bitch," she groans, spitting. The 'bitch' part doesn't come out very edgily, unfortunately.

Soo-jin casts another spell, and Hermione's tongue heals. Her eyes close, using her hand as temporarily pillow. Gathering her bearings before she manages to sit up and wipe the bloody sick off her chin with the side of her hand. Her shirt is already caked in dry blood from the arrow wound, and you know what? Hermione's had a really bad night. Three people have tried to kill her in the past six hours and, yes, one of them was that boggart thing, but that fucker still counts. She's counting it, and she's done. Hermione can't kill Soo-jin, but she can kill Prisoner 54321 or whatever his name is.

Soo-jin catches her staring at the unconscious man and whispers, "He killed my elf."

Her features darken, and she snarls, a tear streaming down her cheek. "He fucking killed my elf! Lilo was my friend!" She crawls over to Lilo, sobbing. Her fingers come to his eyelids, sliding them shut, only for them to spring back open. "They're not staying closed." She tries again a few more times before giving up before she stands on swaying legs, her hand below her heart. "Bubble? Ripper?"

Two elves appear holding each other, bulbous eyes wet and pink, their knobby knees knocking together, Soo-jin lets out a sigh of relief, kneeling and enveloping them in a tight hug like a mother seeing her children after a long time apart. They cling to her, their misshapen heads buried in her shoulders.

"What happened?" she asks.

"H-He came th-through the Floo with H-Harry P-Potter and Master Nott," says one of the elves.

"Harry? He brought him here? Why? Who is this man? Where's Harry now? Where's Theo?"

The other elf fiddles with her spindly fingers. "Ripper and Bubble do not know why Harry Potter and Master brought Mr. Tonks, but Master's guest was not well. Not well at all, but Master and Harry Potter had to leave suddenly and could not bring Mr. Tonks with them. Master asked Lilo to care for Mr. Tonks. After Master and Harry Potter left, Mr. Tonks asked Lilo questions. He pulled out a picture of her."

Bubble, Hermione presumes, points to her.

Soo-jin looks at Hermione. "Who is he, 17?"

"He's from HYDRA, but I've never met him before in my life."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Thinking about it, it's not far-fetched. We couldn't have been the only two taken ever, Soo-jin. He was sent from HYDRA to kill me and to report back with my head. I don't know how many they have. Up until five minutes ago, I thought we were the only ones they took. He told me there's another where he came from. HYDRA has a facility for abnormal people—"

"It doesn't matter," she interrupts, waving her hand dismissively. She looks to back to the elves. "Why did he kill Lilo?"

Ripper continues, "At first, Ripper thought Lilo was trying to stir trouble, Mistress. Lilo didn't like Miss 17, so Lilo said yes that Miss 17 lives here and antagonizes the mistress of the house."

"Mr. Tonks began asking more questions," adds Bubble. "Like if Miss 17 was in the house that exact moment. Where Miss 17 sleeps. Which was when Lilo began thinking Mr. Tonks was up to no good. Lilo didn't like Miss 17 but didn't want her physically harmed. Lilo knew Miss 17 is special to Mistress, so Lilo said no more. Then Mr. Tonks didn't like that. Mr. Tonks started torturing Lilo, but still, Lilo would not say nothing, Mistress.

"Soon enough, Mr. Tonks lost patience and killed Lilo," says Ripper. He looks down as if ashamed. "Ripper and Bubble were too scared to try and help."

Soo-jin's gaze becomes unfocused, and she sniffs. "For multiple reasons. You were afraid you'd be punished for intervening between a wizard disciplining his inferior."

Bubble bobs her head up and down. Soo-jin pats her head. "It's all right. I'm not angry with either one of you. Go and…go and tend to the garden. Pick a nice place for Lilo to rest, all right? 17 and I need to take care of somethings."

The elves bow and vanish. Soo-jin wipes her cheeks and throws a revolted albeit a perplexed look at the unconscious man.

"Tonks," she says, casting Hermione a side glance. "A Teddy Tonks was believed to be killed during the war, like twelve years ago. Supposedly by some Snatcher. Kind of like bounty hunters. I don't know much about him, but I've worked alongside his daughter a few times on cases."

"I don't care who he is." Hermione walks over to him, wiggling her fingers pointedly. "He's HYDRA now and wants my head. The question is…are you going to stop me?"

The woman stares at Lilo's tiny, lifeless form and then looks down. "The portraits will see. A few of them have other frames at other houses, and they can speak freely there. It'd be too much of a mess to cover up if I let you kill him."

'A mess bigger than the deaths of Blaise and Ginny Zabini?' she wants to ask, but keeps her mouth shut.

"We'll wait for Theo and Potter to get back. Tell them what happened." Soo-jin picks up Tonk's broken wand and then waves her own at him. Like what the man did to Hermione, Soo-jin summons tethers from the floor and wall, binding him. She then casts another spell, and he completely disappears.

"Mr. Lupin will be here soon. I can't have him running across his father-in-law in such a state."

Hermione wants to protest but remembering what Nott's promise of Soo-jin getting her just desserts keeps her silent. Killing Soo-jin would be a fattening treat for Hermione. Allowing Nott to have the privilege while Hermione watches, well, that's frozen yogurt. Still delicious, though only eighty-five percent satisfying. The result is the same, nonetheless. Ding dong, the witch is dead.

Hermione catches Soo-jin's confused expression. "What?" she asks.

"Good God, you're filthy. And your hair." She shakes her head. "Forget Tonks. I can't have Mr. Lupin running across you in such a state. Go get cleaned up. Your lessons still need to continue. Now whether Mr. Lupin still wants to come here and teach you when all this bullshit gets out, who's to say?"

Her brand burns. Not badly. Just enough Hermione knows there's no point in arguing. Her feet take her up the stairs to her bedroom. She washes and changes quickly before returning downstairs, all but running, not wanting to miss the show of Nott skinning alive Soo-jin while she and Potter watch from a respectable distance, smoking cigarettes and sipping tea.

Instead Hermione comes to a complete halt, suppressing an undignified and disappointed squeak because, yes, Nott and Potter are there. It's just that Nott's not making her beg for death. He's…hugging her. And whispering words of comfort into her hair while she cries into his chest.

Potter stops pacing at her arrival and both he and Nott give her a pointed stare. The former gestures a cutting motion at his neck, silently telling her to keep quiet and play along. Her eyes go to Nott who gives away nothing. She reaches out and reads him. On the exterior, he's the comforting ex-fiancée who's still in love with Soo-jin. On the inside, he's a new recruit. Another player in Potter's game of exploiting Soo-jin and through her, unveiling all the other opponents.

"17," starts Potter, dipping his chin.

Her eyes go to where Tonks disappeared. "Is he…?"

"You know," Potter chuckles like someone tickled him with a sharp knife. "I thought I was going to be having one of the worst nights of my life. There was a silver-lining, though. Teddy Tonks. A good man, a good father, and a good friend who died years ago miraculously shows up at his widow's house. I'm asked to come over by his daughter who can't bear the sight of him. She can't bear doing the tests ensuring he is who claims to be and neither can her mum—"

"Cut the drama, Potter," Nott interjects. "No need to make a sob-story out of it. If anymore tears fall in this house, we'll be swimming our way to work, won't we? Look, we shouldn't have left him here. He was clearly unfit, but his wife didn't want him at the house, and his daughter didn't want him near her kids. You could smell the cuckoo off him, ripe and proper."

"We got a lead on Den—" Potter licks his teeth and continues, "I mean Creevey—"

"I just can't believe he would do something like this!" exclaims Soo-jin. She rushes to Potter, tugging on his shirt and shaking her head. "It can't be him. How could he? He's the gentlest of souls."

She's good. Hermione will give her that, but Potter needs to be better. This woman may not have personally killed the Zabinis, but she's guilty, regardless. Potter impressed Hermione once before. Can he do it again? Nott's spectacular. Even with Soo-jin's back to him, his troubled yet stoic features don't betray him.

"My heart is broken, too. I feel like I've been betrayed. He and his brother were so loyal during the war."

"But why would he have killed them? How could he have killed Ginny? Everyone loves Ginny—"

"Dennis may have been having an affair with her," Nott provides and before Soo-jin can look his way over her shoulder, his façade does break a millisecond to curl his lips in disgust at Potter. It wasn't Creevey having the affair with Ginny. "That's what it's looking like. He may have not…been intending to kill her but only Blaise and out of jealousy. Because at the end of the day, he knew she'd always belong to him."

Hermione pinches the bridge of her nose. Enough of this soap opera shit. "What are we going to do with the son of a bitch who wanted to send my head to my former employer? I say we kill him."

"Absolutely not!" Potter roars, shoving Soo-jin away from him. "He's just confused—"

"It's not like he's unsure about his sexuality, Potter. I mean, if you want to be polite about it, you can call him damaged, but at the end of the day, he's dangerous. He tortured and killed an elf then tried to behead me. He's HYDRA. One hundred percent. Do you know why his daughter and wife were more scared than happy when he dropped in on them? Nott's right. They knew he was rotten. HYDRA strips people of everything that makes a person them. They break your goodness into teeny, tiny pieces and suck it out with a vacuum, only to flood your husk with poison. He's evil now. He doesn't care about the family he had. He went to them because it was a start to get to me. He doesn't want to go back to them. He doesn't love them anymore."

"I'm not listening to this—"

"Harry," says Soo-jin, taking out the broken wand Tonks had from her pocket. "He had this on him. I very much doubt he was immediately handed a wand upon his return."

Potter clamps his teeth together, taking the pieces. "This is Teddy Lupin's wand. He must've swiped it before we took him here. God, how did I not notice that?"

"Potter, we can bring him in for premeditated and attempt of murder. Thievery, damage of property," says Nott. "I'll press charges because he murdered my elf." He lays it on thick and good by coming up to Soo-jin, caressing her arm. "He was very dear to you, I know that, sweetheart. 17 can press charges, but I can't imagine sticking her in front of the Wizengamot when she has no real identity. We'd have to bring that into the mix, too. And let's be honest, mate. That might've been the dream a week ago. Hell, twenty-four hours ago, but it's not now. She's got to be put on the backburner now. Think about it. We go through all the legal channels. We dot the I's and cross the T's. He goes to trial and gets sent to Azkaban. Imagine the effect on his wife. His daughter and her children. She's with child, and it's already a high-risk pregnancy. She could lose it like she lost the last one—"

"Shut up! For God's sake, shut up!" Potter rakes both hands through his hair, panting. "Are you listening to yourself, Nott? Hermione, I understand, but you. We can't just kill him."

Looking at her nails, Hermione shoots Potter a coy expression. "I never did care for group projects. People don't pull their weight. I can kill this man in three seconds."

They all stare at her, unimpressed. Nott lifts his wand. "We can all do that."

Her eyes roll. "Then I'd like to volunteer myself for this task."

"We'll keep him in Malfoy's dungeon," Potter suggests.

"So you don't want to kill him right away, just slowly. Bit by bit, over a period of time," mocks Nott.

Wow. Malfoy's got a dungeon. Kinky.

"I'd say we could do it here in yours, but there's too much of a risk that Remus could come across him. And this way…maybe Malfoy could help him. He's a healer and if I remember right, he's brilliant at fixing broken things."

Nott laughs incredulously, hands up and fingers spread. "Fuck you, Potter. I am not involving Draco in this. The funeral's going to be on him. He's going to have to deal with the Weasleys. And I can't take care of Isabella. Not with my work. Not with what I do. He's going to have to take her in if none of the Weasley's can do it. Forgive me if I don't bust into his house, the dead husband of his Blood-Traitor aunt in tow, and ask him to imprison this man in said house that was specifically designed and built to harm and or kill Muggle-Borns if they so happen to set foot on the property. Let's not forget, either, that the Ministry often makes surprise visits. For obvious reasons, the dungeons are always checked. Can you imagine the consequences if they see Tonks in a cell?"

Potter covers his face and blindly walks down the hall, the other three staring after him in bewilderment.

"Where are you going?" asks Soo-jin.

"To drown myself in the fucking pool again."

Nott snorts, and Soo-jin lets out a flabbergasted sigh. "He never thinks things through," she mutters to the ceiling and then says to Nott. "You did good. It's moronic to hole up this man at Malfoy Manor."

"Oh, it's totally happening if Potter won't let us get rid of this blighter. He's not staying here and alive. If he was already dead, I'm sure I could find a spot in the garden for him—"

"Lilo will be out there. He can't be near him. I won't allow it."

"You guys know he's serious, right?" says Hermione. "Potter's going to drown himself. He did it last night. I had to revive him and everything."

Clapping his hands, Nott nods appreciatively. "Great. With him dead, fuck the legal channels. Soo-jin, my former love, do you have any qualms about what needs to be done?"

"He killed Lilo, so…" She glances over at the area where Tonks is. "No. I don't."

"Then all that's left is tying up loose ends. A simple memory spell on Nymphadora and Andromeda and…well, probably at least ten people. Some of them kids. Christ, this is going to get messy—"

"You can just say it wasn't really him. Polyjuice potion—"

"Mmm," noises Nott in consideration. He strokes his chin. "Not likely. How would it be explained that someone had his hair after twelve years? Plus, he's aged. Like really bad."

"Then we go with that it wasn't really Teddy Tonks who returned from the grave. Some lunatic that kind of looked like him was trying to…get his fingers in Andromeda Tonk's compensation fund."

"Not a bad idea. She gets a check every month and word has it, it's pretty fair. We could think of better, I reckon, if we really put our heads together."

Well, damn. If Nott wasn't a somewhat prejudice prick at the end of the day and if Soo-jin wasn't a lying, murderous, bona fide cunt; Hermione would think they were kind of perfect for each other. It's not a wonder how they got together. Their chemistry is on point. He's flawlessly falling back into the rhythm with her, using that harmony and ease, to hide how badly he wants to squeeze her neck and bash her head into floor.

Nott's acting is worthy of a true spy. Color Hermione impressed.

"Well, I'll leave you both to it," she says. "Don't forget that Mr. Lupin will be here soon. I'm going to go save Potter. So if you're going to kill Tonks, I suggest you be quick about it."


Right when she gets to the pool area, Potter's just about to take his swan dive. His glasses and shoes are off, his arms relaxed, and his sock-clad toes curled over the edge of the wet concrete. He starts to lean towards the water, and she casually walks up behind and grabs the back of his shirt, jerking him backwards. A surprised yelp escapes his lips, and he scrambles to find balance and fails. His ass hits the ground hard, a string of colorful words echoes off the walls.

"First things first," Hermione says, primly sitting down on one of the pool chairs, crossing her legs. "No more suicide attempts. I get it. You've been depressed for a while. All your life, really. With Ginny dying, you feel like a failure and that it's a good excuse to really carry on with it this time as opposed to just fantasizing about it for the last ten years. It's not. Now if you doubt me, that's fine. I don't care. But hold off any dramatic exits until this whole genocide against Purebloods thing blows over. You can't leave me alone in this. Nott won't fight for me. He won't protect me from Soo-jin. Remus wants to stay out of it, and Snape will just kill me. Like you, I don't necessarily value my own life, but I need to stay alive for at least a little longer, so I can end HYDRA. You can't just see them as some abstract evil not effecting your life. You saw what they've done to your friend."

She's not even close to being finished but stops to take a breather and let Potter process her words. So far, he's still wrapped up in his own self-loathing, and he might've absorbed every five or so words. He hasn't moved from the ground, his knees are up, and his arms are hanging off them. He bows his head and makes a disgruntled sound.

"I'm tired, Hermione," he says after a few minutes. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he confesses, "I murdered Dennis."

She blinks. She hadn't seen that coming.

"So you found him?"

His chuckle his sharp. "He went to Hogwarts. The school. It's where his brother died and told the headmistress there what he did. I guess he couldn't believe what he'd done. He was guilt-ridden and needed to confess to someone." He sniffs, rubbing his eyes with sides of his hands. "He wasn't supposed to kill Ginny or Isabella. Just Blaise. But the headmistress told him he needed to turn himself in, and he asked if she would contact me. He wanted me to bring him in, and that was a mistake. Nott and I, we apprehended him from the school and took him to the interrogation room at the office. Nott left us alone to get some coffee, and I…it was like someone else took over my body, and I-I-I cast the Killing Curse. He wasn't armed, Hermione, and no one was watching. It was just us. I have an unregistered third wand, and I planted it on him. Made it seem Dennis tried to attack me. That I acted in self-defense, but I think he knows. I think Nott knows it's a lie."

Hermione stares at him from her chair. "Harry," she starts, using his first name because it wouldn't be appropriate to call him anything else right now. "Have you never killed anyone before?"

He shakes his head no. "I've lived and fought in a war. I battled Voldemort who died because of things I did. I've cast spells with intent to harm, but I never outright killed anyone. Even with this job, I've always been able to avoid it." He releases a shaky breath. "And it's not just murdering him eating me alive. He had information. He was a part of this movement happening around the world, and I think he would've confessed all he knew. But I didn't care. I did think about that. Before I drew my wand on him. There's no justifying what I've done. I murdered him simply because he murdered the woman I love…who didn't even belong to me."

Her head shakes. "That's not simple. Killing isn't simple. If it was…you wouldn't feel the way you do now."

"Yeah." He sniffles again. "Bet you found that out at a lot younger age than I did."

She uncrosses her legs, leaning forward, trying to keep her eyes focused. Potter needs something real from her. He spilled over on her and desperately needs something in return. To ease the ache. To know he's not the only one who's a monster, and Hermione has no obligation to comfort him. She has no obligation to say anything personal to him in return.

But she will.

Hermione thinks about Clint Barton and the deep friendship he formed with Natalia who needed to confide in someone who was innately good. Hermione already knew all of Natalia's sins and loved her anyway, but the woman needed more. She needed to talk to someone who wasn't equally as rotten as her. Who wouldn't brush off her crimes or say something along the lines of 'we've all made mistakes, Nat' and give her a side hug and go on their merry way. Barton wasn't like that. At first, he was a listening ear before he gave advice. The advice he gave to Nat was direct and lacking bullshit. When her demons got too loud. When her heart became to heavy. When the business end of her pistol seemed like the only way out of her own head.

"There are thousands of people who are planning evil shit just like all the evil shit you used to do. Are you going to stop them? Or are you going to mope in the dark like that artsy fartsy Angel douche from Buffy? Get off your ass and stop them, Romanoff."

Eventually, Barton became more personal and apparently divulged to Natalia some of his own sins he committed before he was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. Hermione knows some of them but not all, and they're nowhere near as wicked as Nat's.

He's wise, that Barton. Despite nearly disfiguring her.

Potter needs a Barton.

And so does she. Potter's not the perfect candidate, but given he's pretty much the only one, she can't afford to be picky.

"I was twelve," she finally says and prepares herself for the look of contempt on Potter's face. At first, he doesn't disappoint, but then a few seconds later, it melts into sadness. For a moment, he forgets his own crime. He gets up and joins her by sitting on the neighboring pool chair.

"You can go on if you want," he tells her. "I promise I won't make that face again."

She laughs. "Don't make promises you can't keep. The person I killed was a good man, and it wasn't in self-defense. Not really. He wouldn't have killed me, and I even knew that then, but I didn't care. When I pulled that trigger, I thought I was being honorable. Strong. Loyal. It was awful, the feeling I had afterwards. The second time wasn't much better."

It's been a few years since she let herself think about Taru.

"And I may've loved her. It's hard to say," she says after a pause. "She was beautiful. Long, rose-gold hair and skin like snow and eyes as blue as the hope diamond. And I shot her in the heart."

"How old were you then?"

"Eighteen."

Potter swallows, his hand does something weird and jerky before he rests it on her knee. "Do you remember them?"

She frowns at his hand, though she decides not to smack it away. "All of them."

"Do you regret all of them?"

She shakes her head no, and he nods acceptingly.

"I can't kill Tonks. Not after what I just did to Dennis. Two murders on my hands. I can't do it."

"You don't have to kill him."

"Knowing who killed him and not stopping it when I could is enough to further bloody my hands." He massages his face. "What am I going to do? Another war is coming and during the last one, I didn't feel so lucky, but now I know I was. I've always been able to cast a less harmful spell and live another day. This is so much bigger and worse. I killed Dennis, and yet I can't imagine ever taking another life again. What am I going to do? People will look to me as their beacon of hope. Their leader. I can gather an army, sure, but I'd rather take my own life than someone else's. I'm not even fit to be a soldier—"

Hermione cuts him off by breathing in loud and sharp. She mimics him, placing her hand on his knee and squeezing. "Listen, you precious, little marshmallow. Stop brooding. I read what happened in the history book you bought me, and Madam Malkin's may've lent a good deal of information, too. That's a lot of responsibility to put on a child and because you were so young, you may have felt obligated to be this Chosen One—"

"I was the Chosen One—"

"Well, that's not the case this time. There's no prophecy. No Chosen One. No horcruxes. There's no one in your head but you. You don't have to be anyone's beacon of hope or well of information. You don't have to be a leader. When the people wake up and realize there's a problem going on and look to you to fix it, pass the torch on to someone else. You don't owe them an explanation as to why. If anything, they owe you enough to trust that you're making the best decision for them by not taking up the reigns again."

"Right," he says and the more convincingly he repeats it again. "Right."

"Right," Hermione agrees. She gets up and allows herself in offering a hand to him. He grimaces. Not at her hand, just at how difficult things will be from here. She wiggles her fingers pointedly. "You can do it. Come on. I'm right here, and I literally can't go anywhere."

He chuckles, sad and miserable, taking her hand in his. They're both warm, callused, and unsure. She begins to walk, tugging him with her.

"Come on. There's work to be done."

To be Continued...