Author's Note: Why yes, I am writing a new story. And no, I haven't given up on the other two stories languishing away here. But I kinda wanted to write a slightly different Hermione this time, and I couldn't resist the story idea (looks at Corvus Draconis suspiciously).

Chapter 2: A Job of Indeterminate Size

The tickets to the train had been waiting in the ticketmaster's booth just like the note had said, and Hermione loosened her scarf as she stared out the window. Fat snowflakes whirled around the foggy glass, and Hermione wondered exactly what was so important that she had to take a midnight train on Christmas Eve. The train itself wouldn't arrive until early on Christmas day, and though Hermione wasn't exactly sure of the validity of the claim that had been in the initial letter, she had to admit that her interest was piqued. The Galleons that had already been transferred to her Gringotts account to prioritize her services hadn't hurt, either.

"A beast of indeterminate size," she mused to herself, tracing shapes on the foggy glass. "I've never killed one of those before. It could, of course, just be a run-of-the-mill Graybacker Werewolf, but a job is a job."

Hermione knew that most werewolves were innocents who merely needed to take the Wolfsbane potion, but the Graybackers were an extremist sect of werewolves who had decided to follow in Fenrir Grayback's footsteps. They were particularly dangerous because they targeted children. She'd killed at least five of them, so they were normally no trouble at all on their own, but it was always hard to tell if one was working alone or in a group.

Still, from the description, Hermione couldn't help but feel a slight sense of excitement rising in her chest. For her, this was the time she felt most alive- when she was about to start the hunt.

She closed her eyes though she knew she wouldn't truly get to sleep. Without looking, she raised several highly potent wards to keep intruders out and forced herself to rest.

From the look of the snow outside, she would need her strength.

"Ah, Miss Granger! So good to meet you in person! I am Mr. Grellis Snignibbon. You may not know me, but you come very highly recommended!" The diminutive man who stood before her was obviously at least half-goblin, but Hermione didn't mind. She'd done plenty of work for Gringotts before, as unauthorized mountain trolls often blundered their way into vaults after digging deep into the earth and coming up under the bank.

"You mentioned a massive beast in your letter," she said, handing the parchment to him. "Can you tell me more?"

"Ah, you're just as my friend said. Very matter-of-fact. I like that," Mr. Snignibbon said. "The truth is, I recently acquired property that reaches from the outskirts of town all the way to at the top of the nearby mountain. It is my plan to convert all of it into an exclusive winter retreat for the magically inclined. As you can probably conclude from the fact that it will be the first of its kind, it promises to be very lucrative. I would like to begin construction sooner rather than later. The problem is that there is something in these woods that comes out each evening to terrorize my workers. None of my people have been harmed yet, thank goodness, but the reports are very worrying, and thanks to the regularity of these incidents, no one will stay in the base camp. I've already lost half of my work crew, and the other half won't stay there past midday. If you believe the reports from the townsfolk, two people have been snatched and are presumed dead."

"Do you know if it's a group or a single creature?" Hermione asked, summoning a pen and notepad from her bag with a lazy flick of her wand. She slipped her wand into the wrist holster on her right arm and flipped to a blank page to take notes.

"Reports only seem to suggest one, but it's always possible there could be more. It would be your responsibility to find out and dispose of anything in the way of my plans...in the manner of your own choosing," he said with a shrug. "I do know it isn't a werewolf. Whatever this creature is, it doesn't howl. It wails. On quiet nights, we can hear echoes down here in the valley and it even makes my skin crawl."

Hermione frowned. Goblins were not known for being squeamish or fearful, even when faced with a full-sized dragon. "I am equipped to take this job, but I have decided that I would like twice the amount you offered to complete it."

"Oh?" Mr. Snignibbon cocked his head and looked at her appraisingly over his half-moon glasses. "And exactly why do you think that I would pay it?"

"Because it's obvious that you wouldn't be wasting my time if you were able to rid yourself of it through any other means," Hermione replied, a bored expression on her face as she examined her fingernails. "I can only imagine that with the money and staff you already have at your disposal, you have already made an effort to stop the creature with no success."

The goblin scowled. "Four retired Aurors for hire couldn't bring it down. I do not wish to waste more coin on inadequate services."

"Understandable. Which is why I have set the price as such. I don't do failure." Hermione stared back evenly at Mr. Snignibbon's sharp-toothed sneer. "And, may I remind you, that we do not have a contract as of yet. I have three other offers that I could easily take instead, but your job intrigued me. Still, intrigue doesn't put food on the table or pay the rent. It is your choice, Mr. Snignibbon."

Hermione was stretching the truth a bit about the number of jobs she had waiting for her, but she could still afford to be picky, as she rarely ever spent her earnings on anything extra. Though she wasn't like Luna with her incessant desire to go questing for new magical creatures, Hermione was still interested, especially since most of her work was dangerous but admittedly repetitive.

"Very well. I shall adhere to your price," Mr. Snignibbon said slowly, a bitter expression on his face. "I warn you, it's not just the beast that you need to worry about. The mountain is treacherous in its own right. We haven't been able to place the appropriate charms to prevent avalanches or mark off crevices and sudden drops except for at the lowest base camp. Here is our most current map" Mr. Snignibbon handed her a small roll of parchment tied with string.

"That is good to know. I will contact you once the contract is fulfilled." Hermione placed the map in her pocket and turned toward the door. She secretly relished the small gasp of shock from behind her.

"You mean you're going out there...now? On a snowy Christmas morning?" Mr. Snignibbon exclaimed. "Nobody in their right mind would be out there at this hour."

"I've hunted in worse," came the reply as Hermione slipped out into the early frozen morning.

Hermione took a deep breath as she started walking towards the outskirts of town, tiny flakes of snow silently falling all around her. She felt secretly relieved that she no longer had to put up a facade of sociability now that she was alone again. Ever since Ron's death, she'd preferred her own company. It was simpler to detach herself from everything than to have to worry constantly about what people thought of her or about who she had to be responsible for. At least Harry had settled down. His duties as Head Auror were largely desk work now, and Hermione knew that he was secretly glad for it.

To be fair, she was probably more glad than he was, even though she didn't show it outwardly. There was something freeing in the numbness she carried with her, like a blanket of indifference that filtered out all of the unimportant interference in the world around her. The snow, too, helped with that by absorbing most of the sound as she walked on the crisp, freshly-fallen snow. She had checked the embedded snowshoe charms on her boots while on the train, and they were working wonderfully as she passed the marker that signalled that she'd reached the edge of the small village. The way ahead was steep and choked with dark, tall trees covered with snow. Hermione took one last look back at the cheery glow in the windows of the town behind her. Then, she pulled out her wand and sent up three lanterns filled with blue fire dancing around her head before unrolling the map and continuing onward.

She had a job to complete, after all.

"Merry Christmas, Ron," she said softly from behind her scarf as she looked up at the dark gray sky. "Wherever you are now."

Hermione didn't see signs of the creature as she continued onward through the trees, but she was taken by how quiet it was in the forest. It was an empty feeling that felt borderline unnatural, but Hermione steeled herself and continued onward. She knew of the danger that lay ahead. From what she had gathered, the beast appeared to be nocturnal, but she also knew that she needed to make it to the deserted base camp where it had been sighted so many times before sundown. As the snow began to fall more aggressively and the wind grew sharp and bit at her nose, Hermione could tell that it was going to be a long, arduous day of walking.

Hermione looked down at her compass and scowled. It was nearly four in the afternoon and she still hadn't come across the base camp. She had checked her map regularly and followed the instructions. She'd even begun marking trees by cutting small notches in their trunks with wand. Luckily, she'd not run into any of said trees, which was a good sign that she was not walking in circles, but it still bothered her to know that she was still not at the camp itself. The thick forest seemed to press in all around her, making her feel unusually small. The dark canopy above her was only punctuated by patches of white where the snow showed through. The sun had not fully set yet even this far North, but it was dark enough that Hermione had been forced to add two additional magical lanterns to light her way.

"I am not lost. I am not lost," she repeated over and over to herself like a mantra, though it was getting hard to continue believing it.

Finally, she came to a clearing, which was next to a frozen creek. She looked down at the ice and saw the dim shadow of her reflection staring back at her.

"This is ridiculous!" she hissed, looking around. "I'm never going to find what I'm looking for down here!"

The problem was that Hermione did not carry a broom with her, as she did not trust them. It was easy for many magical creatures to interfere with a broom's flight, though she'd hated flying long before she'd ever gone into the monster hunting business.

Looking up at a nearby tree, its branches heavy with new snow, she was struck with an idea. Falling down on all fours, Hermione shifted into her animagus form. Though a tiny squirrel with a big, bushy tail was nearly useless in battle, there were times when it came in handy.

Hermione squeaked with determination and dig her tiny claws into the bark of the tree. It was climbing time.

Hermione didn't reach the top of the tree for some time. The cold was nearly unbearable under her fur, and she was reminded that squirrels hibernated for a reason. However, she persevered and after a few close calls, she finally reached a high enough branch that seemed like it would support her weight when she shifted back. Having an animagus form was useful, but Hermione could not use magic while transformed, nor could she see nearly as well with both eyes on either sides of her head.

She steadied herself against the trunk of the tree and tried not to look down. Pulling out her wand, she cast an Eagle Eye spell and turned around, looking for any sign of a camp.

Instead, all she saw were more trees.

Grumbling, Hermione decided to climb a bit higher and balanced part of her weight on a higher branch before pulling herself up using the trunk. It wasn't glamorous and she was sure she had gotten more than a few slivers, but she managed it.

With the added height, Hermione could see what looked like the top of a stone building a little to the east of her position. As she watched, smoke curled out of the top of what she supposed must be a chimney.

She frowned, checking the map again. Nothing was marked on the map, but then again, she supposed that it was outdated. Goblins, for all their business cunning and knowledge of precious metals, weren't known for their cartography skills.

Just then, the wind picked up and tore the map from her hands. Instinctively, Hermione grasped for it, only to realize half a second later that she was standing on an icy branch high in a tree. One foot shot out from under her and the branch she clawed at to stop her fall snapped loudly in the silence of the winter forest. Hermione fell, covering her face with one hand as small branches and dead leaves slammed into her. She slid her hand into her pocket and grasped her wand, putting all of her energy into a Levitation charm. It slowed her descent, but not by enough for the nearing ground to seem welcoming in the least.

As she struggled to grab hold of anything, she twisted in the air only to feel something solid and cold slam into her side.

The branch snapped with a deep, echoing crunch and Hermione could feel something inside of her break as well. She tried to scream but she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

She lost hold on the Levitation charm and fell like a broken doll onto the blanket of snow beneath the tree. Her eyes barely open as she struggled to breathe, Hermione could feel the hot, salty tang of blood filling her mouth.

As her consciousness faded into reddish darkness, she heard an inhuman wail and the hot chuffing of breath spilling out somewhere nearby as large, heavy footfalls crunched through the snow towards where she lay.

'Ron,' she thought as her mind fragmented into nothingness, 'please...let me see you soon.'