Chapter 11:

Hermione sat with the sun in her face; her long, black hair whipping around her in the wind and her eyes closed against the warmth of the sun. It had been two years to the day since she had stood in the mouth of the cave, watching the sunrise over the plains and hills below her.

She let the wind shift across her body, feeling it caress and massage her well-trained muscles. Memory fragments of the last two years washed over her mind and she drifted into a peaceful stage.

She saw from an outside perspective her first encounter with the ninjas.

(Flashback)

It had been the dead of night and she was told to be waiting just outside the boathouse, in the middle of Ueno Park, Tokyo. She knew she would be watched the entire time, so she made an extra effort to blend in.

She braided her hair and then wove it into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a soft silken charcoal black tunic and pants suit; the charcoal color ensured that light wouldn't reflect off of the noiseless material. She wore soft, black slippers on her feet, similar in style to ballet flats, but with additional coverage over the top of her foot. A thin dark cloak went over the outfit and along with the hood, shrouded her in a basic shadow.

She placed cushioning charms on her feet, along with disillusionment and silencing charm on herself. She wore her black, leather collar around her neck as usual with her miniscule wand and bag attached.

She went into the park about a half hour early and quietly cased the best way to approach the boathouse. It was centered in the middle of the lake and opened on all sides. One walkway cut through the middle enabling the public to get to the boats from either side. She knew that it was ideal not to go on the walkway, so the ninjas would be watching the string of boats that led to it as well for anyone who attempted to use those as stepping stones.

Hermione sensed a few ninjas who were hiding in the boats, as well as in the trees that lined the pathway. There was even one in the bush in front of her. She wasn't sure if he had noticed her yet, but decided that walking to the house would be implausible.

If only Ron were here, he was the strategist. She sighed. I never thought I'd think this but … think like Ron, think like Ron. Oh! Fly in! Of course.

She slipped out of the park to where she knew a bat's colony was and transformed into her phoenix form. She thanked Merlin for her black feathers and flew up to where the bats were.

She concentrated and made mental contact with one, asking if there were other bats that lived in the upper story of the boathouse. Images flooded into her brain of nightly flights from the present location to another within the crown of the boathouse.

She grinned, well as close to a grin as a phoenix could get. Their timing would suit hers perfectly. As the group readied for flight, she concentrated on dulling her feathers and shrinking her form slightly. It wouldn't do to be twice the size of a bat.

The group took off, some splitting off to go hunt while the others went towards the center of the lake.

As she passed over the trees, she noticed the ninjas in the trees looking down closely at the pathway and boats. She had been right that they would know the bats schedule and expect her to take advantage of the noise.

She spotted the one she was to meet standing in the shadows of the door and knew that a surprise from the side behind him would be her safest bet. She saw another close to him, guarding his back and figured that if she slipped from the roof at the right time, she wouldn't get a knife in her back.

After landing, she timed herself with the guards and transformed inside, praying the bats wouldn't react. She slipped out the window and slid silently down the roof. She dropped down soundlessly from the roof and slipped up behind the ninja, placed her token on his shoulder and waited. He showed no surprise, but she spotted the miniscule shudder of his robes when she placed the token that assured her she had done well.

"And where is the tracker?"

She called her hawk to her with a hand gesture, took the device off its talons and handed it to him.

He turned, his face shrouded similarly to hers. His voice betrayed no emotion, "Well done, but you did stay in that bush a little longer than was necessary, even if you knew how to rid yourself of the tracker. Yet I'm curious, how did you get on the roof?"

She smirked, "The bats of course."

She could tell he had raised an eyebrow over her obvious evasion, but accepted it. He motioned with a finger and they all quietly slipped away to headquarters.

(End Flashback)

The majority of ninjas that were present in the conclave had accepted her. She was not the only female or non-Asian, but she was definitely in the minority. At the beginning it had been much like Hogwarts; she was judged based on her heritage and not her goals, but as the months passed, she became known for her hard work and steady training. Most seemed to know and understand that she was not there to become a full ninja or to eventually work as one. Her day was composed of training and lessons, her night, missions.

It was a hard way of life for two years, but she knew it had paid off. She could go up to three or four days with no sleep and could fully function on the minimum of nutrition. Her mind was drilled to the point of photographic and her senses trained to a sharpness beyond even her earlier advantage of being an anmagus and ability to sense auras. She had learned how to analyze situations in the blink of an eye and how to become invisible without a cloak or spell, ever so much more effective if a full Finite is ever cast on a room one might try to sneak into. Her control over her magic and emotions was honed to a point of mere mental control.

It had been a long two years too, she reflected. There had not been much contact with people outside of her teachers, leaders, and partners. She had a new partner about every month and so even then she never let herself get too close, death was far too familiar to her for that. The switching of partners supposedly increased their ability to adapt as well as to demonstrate how to enable someone to trust you without revealing too much. Hermione found that she worked better alone, even if she did well with a partner.

She reflected on the one mission that truly put that into relief, the one mission that had almost failed, all due to her. Her partner Min, a young Chinese woman, and she had been sent to spy and do reconnaissance upon a meeting between the Emperor and a well known warrior. They had not been told the warrior's name, but Hermione was sure that if they had, things certainly would have worked out differently.

Min and she had taken their previously scouted places and waited for the negotiators to arrive. The Emperor had come first, his guards lining the courtyard and making routine checks around the premises. The two had counted on that and were well hidden.

The one thing she had not counted on, however, was Draco Malfoy walking through the entrance into the courtyard. The minute he had appeared, her senses and magic were on high alert and she could tell by his sudden stiffness that he knew she was there. She cursed in her mind and knew he wouldn't stay quiet about it. She had a good idea what the meeting was about considering a letter her mother had sent her a few days before.

Malfoy too had dropped a clue in his own letter.

V –

I actually never understood the full hatred of Mudbloods until I met you. I was told they were vile, stupid and not worth my time. You, however, were the brightest witch of our age, pretty and had two well-known best friends. You didn't act vile or stupid and you certainly didn't realize that you were beneath me. You treated me like every other person in Hogwarts, unless I was insulting you of course, then you assaulted me. To me, you had no understanding of our culture and even once I'd explained the hierarchy, you didn't care. I was a little bit in shock over the blatant disregard for what I thought was set in stone. The ability to step back from a situation is something I've developed over the past years, as you can see, and that's what I have come up with.

On another note, I received a note from Father yesterday. It seems that the Dark Lord is going to be amassing his forces soon.

I hope this letter finds you well.

- D

The letter had been short, like his others, but his line about Voldemort spoke volumes. He was clearly going to be recruiting. Hermione knew she had to do something or else both she and Mina would be compromised. She reached out to his mind and felt him block her reflexively, before letting the walls down slightly.

She thought, The Dark Lord is a suspicious one, isn't he? Shall I let you do the honors?

She knew he would grasp her inference that the Dark Lord didn't fully trust him to do the mission properly and that he also wouldn't tell about her being there due to his pride. She couldn't afford the possibility that Malfoy might run back to the Dark Lord and question her presence.

The training that the ninjas had put her through and the intense soul-searching she had done over the past years had led her to a basic stance on the war at home. She would be firmly in the middle. And now I sound like a suicidal idiot … whoopee.

She knew that the Order had lost its true spies and she hoped to fill that void, especially since the Dark Lord seemed to know nothing of her previous identity.

She reached out her mind once more to his to catch his reply.

He thought back, Obviously, since clearly I'm the more persuasive of the two.

She pulled back and grinned to herself. Oh he's pissed! Perfect. And now he won't try to hide things because he thinks I'm here for 'Our Lord.'

The meeting went on for about six hours and she and Mina collected all they could. The problem had been afterwards. Draco had stayed after to see her. She motioned to Mina to leave and that she would explain later. Mina shot her a glare and Hermione knew that she would be in hot water when she got back to the conclave.

Hermione stepped out of the shadows and joined Draco in the courtyard. Their eyes never left each other and the moment they had clasped hands, he apparated to his room in a nearby hotel.

She pretended to take in her surroundings for a few moments and murmured, "A muggle hotel, oh Mighty Malfoy?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"It had the larger bed."

She threw her head back and laughed. She decided to make her move before he could question her. "Shall we make use of it then?"

He prowled up to her and growled, "I thought you'd never ask."

She grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down towards her. Their mouths clashed furiously and both knew they wouldn't last long. Months of trading letters and getting to know each other had them craving one another's company. They also knew that if they took it slow, they would never be able to part, and neither was ready for that realization quite yet.

They clung to each other, tongues thrusting and hands groping attempting to get closer than was possible. Hermione divested them of their clothing with a quick swipe of her hand, leaving only her collar on while Draco was completely nude.

He could almost imagine that the woman standing in front of him in nothing but a leather collar was his and his alone to play with. A truly Dark witch with breasts heaving, lips swollen from their earlier kisses, thighs wet and body flushed in arousal. He could imagine in his head how he would dominate her in every sense of the word and how in time he would perhaps let her dominate himself, on his orders of course.

He growled, picked her up and threw her onto the bed, her legs spread wide and her arms splayed out to the side.

She could see him through a haze of arousal, his hooded eyes, powerful, muscular body shuddering in an attempt to keep control and his own arousal weeping from the tip. All she wanted to do was crawl over to him and lick it away, to taste and see if it was salty or sweet. But she also loved the feeling of him taking control, allowing her for once to let go and be told what to do instead of doing the telling.

He crawled up the bed towards her and came up between her legs. He bent his head and licked his way down her thighs, teasing at the very crooks of her legs and then lapping at her lower lips.

She could feel herself getting wetter and when he thrust his tongue into her cunt and flicked her clit at the same time, she moaned as she climaxed. It wasn't a huge, end-all orgasm but it took the edge off.

He suckled on her swollen lips and cleaned her of her arousal, but kept rubbing her clit, keeping her at that shaking edge. He rose up her body, licking his way across her stomach, nipping at various points to make her squirm. He tweaked her nipples with his free hand and she whimpered at the painful pleasure it brought her.

She was moaning and writhing on the bed; her thigh rubbed against his own arousal and he let out a low groan. She let her hand drift down to his weeping cock and began to pump it furiously. She was beginning to be lost in the mist of sensual overload and he licked up to the underside of her breast. His tongue then laved around both nipples and he rubbed her clit a bit harder.

Her own hand on his cock had become more erratic and she had, Thank Merlin!, shifted it to playing with his balls. Just as he felt her hit the edge, he enveloped one nipple fully into his mouth and sucked tightly, just as he rubbed the other with his hand. She groaned loudly and came a second time.

He rose up quickly and entered her, seating his cock in the wet, convulsing heat. Her inner muscles clamped around him as she rode out her orgasm and he put up a fight to maintain control. She could feel his full, pulsating length deep within her and arched at the feeling of completeness that she felt.

He pulled her knees up over his shoulders, braced his arms against the headboard and began thrusting furiously as she came down from her high. She was moaning and whimpering at the new sensory onslaught along with the new angle at which he was pumping into her. Every thrust pushed him against her full lower body, easing the ache she felt and his cock hit that sweet spot every time.

When he looked down at her, he could see his cock glistening with her come and he inner muscles clamping him tightly. Her breasts bounced with each thrust of his and arch of hers, while her head was thrown back against the pillows, eyes wide and nails digging into his back and bum as he hammered into her.

She was groaning and hissing like a wildcat meeting him thrust for thrust and he thanked Merlin for his height, otherwise she would have been knocked unconscious from hitting her head on the headboard continuously.

He grunted as he felt his own release rise up and bent down to catch her lips in a frenzied kiss. She howled at the new friction as he bent down and she was then cut off by his lips. As he thrust his tongue into her mouth in time with his cock, she came furiously, her muscles contracting around him like a vice and he let himself go, feeling his seed flood into her.

As she came down from her cloud and felt him pulsing into her, she saw his face, the pure ecstasy that he showed in this one, unguarded moment, and blacked out. He too passed out from the vigorous activity and fell to her side, their limbs entwined and sweaty.

She awoke about an hour later feeling relaxed but sticky. She waved her hand and cleaned them both. She watched the peaceful face of Draco ... Draco?! He is Malfoy, and must stay that way for you to retain any sanity at all throughout this. Don't lose sight of yourself missy. She sighed. She silently climbed out of bed, redressed, wrote him a quick note and slipped out the door.

Draco would wake later to a cold bed and a note beside him.

D –

I'm not going to be able to stay away again, so I felt I should leave while I could. I think perhaps it would be best not to contact me unless you must. I do not want to anger Our Lord. Good bye Malfoy and I shall see you.

- V

He crumpled the letter angrily. That whore. He didn't like her inference about the Dark Lord wanting her for his own, even though there was truth to it. He especially hated that she didn't have the guts to say it to his face. What is it with her and her blasted note-leaving! Wasn't she a Gryff?!

He had melted towards her and let her see a side of his cold soul that no one else had ever glimpsed. He growled at his own stupidity and mentally hardened himself once again.

Hermione sat back in Ueno Park, breathing deeply to calm herself. As she had watched him sleep, she knew that she would never be able to fight him properly in the coming battles. So she knew what she had to do, make a way to hate him.

But for her to hate him, he had to hate her. I don't know why that makes sense, but its what I know I have to do. That note will serve two purposes; one, make him hate me for putting the Dark Lord before him, and two, make him doubt the Dark Lord. It may be the only way of getting him to even contemplate other options.

When she had finally gotten back to the conclave, there had been no less than twenty leaders waiting for her. Damn, I'm not in the mood for this, were her immediate thoughts. She had been questioned for over two hours about her involvement with him and her participation in the war in Britain. They ended the ordeal by praising her for her quick thinking and strategy. She had gone to sleep thinking, Bloody ninjas. Constantly perverse, snorting at that oxymoron even as she went to sleep.

As she came back to herself at the cave mouth, she glanced at the sun, now high in the sky, and sighed. She would have to go home that evening. She wasn't looking forward to it either.

She had left England, the Order, and her family for five years, and now she would have to go back and face everything she had run from. Oh joy.

She wondered what Harry and Ginny's child looked like now and if they were married and content. Despite everything, Hermione hoped that Harry had some peace in his life; something she hadn't been able to give. She wondered how the twins were faring and if Remus and Tonks were married. She wondered if her parents had gotten any less gaunt or if they were still slightly unhinged. She wondered how she and Draco would react around each other.

But mostly, she wondered if she could play the game she was about to start, or if she would lose herself in the end. Even at this point, on the verge of war, she had lost who she was.

She was no longer Hermione Granger, but nor was she Veri Lestrange.

She had been forced to change her life and dreams to acclimate a madman. She wasn't an innocent eleven year old anymore, or a know-it-all nineteen year old. She was twenty four and felt like one hundred and four.

She had decided to go with two nicknames, 'V' and 'Mi' both sounding the same and easy to say. She felt that one name was all she needed to define herself for now. The decisions could come after the war. For now she had to keep her balance and walk to tight rope. The tight rope she would climb up to that evening.

God I hope they have alcohol.