She's like a butterfly. Just when I thought I had her classified and pinned down, Fleur escapes all logic.

Hermione sighed as she logged all the evidence she gathered in her office computer. With a few taps on the keyboard coupled with a surreptitious flick of her wand, she has updated both her Head Agent at The Guild and the Police Chief Superintendent, ofcourse after omitting the magical findings for the latter.

Not that there were many to omit to begin with. The only facts she has on hand can be summed up in a few sentences. The victim's name is Gregory Rosseu, 43 years old, a French national attending a conference in London. He has no known enemies, no linkage with the magical community. He is the fifth victim of a serial murder under the hands of a magical creature. The magical creature was either rare or a new breed as their magical signature did not register in all the records of The Guild.

Hermione glanced at the pale strand of hair encased in a glass vial. She already thought of Apparating tonight at the lab but thought of clearing her head first.

Though the brunette's keen mind was eager to seize all the puzzle pieces, she couldn't seem to focus long enough because of some distracting thoughts that came in the figure of a tall, blindingly attractive part Veela.

Why did Fleur saunter into her case? Why did she appear now? She has been an inactive agent for a year. And the year before that all she got from the blonde was a hurried patronus with a cryptic message, asking her not to make any further contact due to a mission she could not disclose to anybody. Not even her.

But who am I to her anyway? Hermione wondered. She thought she and Fleur formed a bond during her freshman year at The Guild. It was a reluctant bond. But it was definitely a real one nonetheless.

Hermione sank back on her leather chair and stretched her arms behind her head. A frown marred her pretty face as she stared at the mists forming on her office window. A storm of memories swirled in her mind.

THE GUILD UNIVERSITY

HERMIONE'S FRESHMAN YEAR

Good bye pleated skirt, hello pencil cut.

Hermione mused as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Well she technically looked grown up, with her stockinged legs, medium heeled shoes, pencil cut skirt and ivory white, silk dress shirt that hugged her womanly figure. But even though she was nineteen years old, a veteran of the War of Hogwarts and a certified N.E.W.T level witch, she could not help but feel the bubbling apprehension in her stomach.

She had no idea what she was doing. And that petrified the organised mind of Hermione Granger.

There were no course books, no potion ingredients, no syllabus. All the letter said was that all school materials will be provided once she arrives. Her new uniform, which arrived today, was also taken care of. Now all she needed to do was meet the Guild agent who will side-Apparate her to the school. He or she should be here any minute now.

'Look at you, sweetheart,' Emily Granger appeared on Hermione's bedroom doorway. Her eyes shone as she regarded her only child. 'Are you sure we only missed a year? It felt like ten years since we last saw you. I know I said this before-.'

'Mum,' Hermione sighed as she walked over towards the older woman and quickly gave her a hug. 'We talked about this. The wizard war is over, I'm safe. You and Dad are safe now. I will be fine, don't worry.'

Mrs Granger ran a shaky hand through her daughter's tresses. 'Yes I am being silly. But as long as I am your mother, I am entitled to silly,' her mum sniffed.

Hermione rested her head on her Mum's shoulder and let her hold her. She didn't want to upset her parents any further. After restoring their memories and telling them the truth about her role in the war, her usually composed parents have moved from shock, to distraught and now they are in the clingy phase. Which they were perfectly entitled to after all they've been through, Hermione thought.

The bright jangling of the door bell jarred the two women. Not wanting another bout of waterworks, Hermione disentangled herself from her mother, gave her a peck on the cheek and grabbed her beaded bag.

'That's my ride Mum, I'll send you an owl or call as soon as I can,' Hermione said as she made a move towards the main door. 'Give my love to Dad!'

Emily stood mutely but gave a small nod and a brave smile. Hermione's heart wrenched at the sight of her mom looking so…lost. But what can she do? She would need to make it up to them somehow. She will visit them as soon as she can. Connect their home fireplace to the Floo network. Anything so that she can assure her parents that she is alive and well.

'See you soon, Mum,' she said, almost as a promise.

The brunette squared her shoulders and opened the door.

'Ms Hermione Granger, I presume?' a tall, brawny man in a smart suit and tie greeted her. 'I'm Agent Harris from the Guild. Are you ready to go?'

Hermione stepped out of the house in response and simply said.

'Let's go.'

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When Hermione first set her eyes on the rubble that was supposed to be the Guild University, she thought they had made a wrong turn.

'Mr Harris, is this…' Hermione trailed off as the structure before her loomed clearly and occupied her entire line of sight. 'Are we at the Parthenon in Greece?' she gasped in awe.

She was staring at an ancient ruin she recognised from the glossy pages of hard-bound architectural books. The temple's massive columns were crumbled, but stood tall and proud like giant sentinels that lanced the clear blue September sky.

Agent Harris gave her a small smile. 'Quite impressive isn't it? But we are not at the Guild yet.' He strode towards the temple and Hermione tried not to skip off after him like a child going towards a toy store.

The temple looked older and dustier now that Hermione was standing on it. The empty spaces in between the columns were thick with silence and secrets. She almost thought she heard an imperceptible whispering from one of the columns.

'Here we are, the eight column to the right. If I tap my wand on this column, I would be able to pass through. But, you won't be able to…yet. Can you guess why?' Agent Harris inquired.

'It only admits Guild Agents?' Hermione didn't like to guess, but promptly responding to a question is a habit she seemed to have never shrugged off.

'It admits wizards and witches with registered wands. Just like firewall systems of muggle technology, you need a registered password to gain entry. Our passwords here are the names of our wands. I know Hogwarts doesn't teach this, as wandlore is an obscure branch of magic, but there is power in knowing your wand's name. Soon, you will see,' Agent Harris pointed his wand at Hermione.

A faint bluish white glow engulfed Hermione's head. She felt as if a light breeze caressed her temples, gently wiping all the noise in her head away.

'I cast the Lingua spell, so you will be able to understand and converse in any language, even the arcane language of wands. Speak to your wand with your mind, be respectful when you ask for its name.'

Hermione wasn't entirely sure of what she was doing, but a trickle of warmth spread across her hand that held her wand. It hummed in her palm, waiting. She took a breath. Well here goes.

Hello, wand. I know this is rather odd. But it seems that I need to accept the assumption that you and I can talk.

Hermione, ofcourse. We have been conversing for a long time now. I may not have a human mind, but I do have a will. And my will chose you. Back then, at Ollivander's. You recall?

Hermione gasped. Her eyes widened. Her wand had a voice! It almost sounded like her own but somehow the timbre was deeper, like it resonated from the roots of the earth.

Yes. I recall. Ollivander practically went mad with satisfaction when he saw you in my hand. We made blue sparks and almost set him on fire. Surprised me too. Bloody hell. This is amazing. You can talk! Oh right, I should be respectful.

You never used me for ill will. You have been more than respectful, Hermione. Proceed with your question.

Right. Dear… wand. May I know your name?

The wand was silent. For a while, Hermione thought the Lingua spell had gone. Then it spoke.

From the fierce heart of the dragon I am.

Encased in an untamed vine of olden wood.

A name forgotten in tomes of Latin.

Hermione thought hard. Trust my wand not to give me a straight answer. Now, what words do I know in Latin?

Almost immediately, her mind's eye glimmered with thousands of Latin words, like a dictionary projecting itself as a constellation. Hermione grinned. She liked this Lingua spell more and more, she must ask Harris to teach it to her one of these days.

Right. What word was she looking for? A word for fierce. Untamed.

Ferus. Hermione intoned in her mind. Your name is Ferus?

As if to nod in acknowledgement, blue bell flames shot out from her wand even if she didn't cast a spell.

'Excellent Ms Granger!' Agent Harris's booming voice broke Hermione's conversation with her wand. 'Now you can summon your wand, wherever it is, just by saying its name. You can even command it to do a spell even if its not in your hand, but that is for another lesson.'

Agent Harris gestured towards the column. 'Now, tap this column and state your wand's name in your mind.'

The point of Hermione's wand lightly touched the column. Ferus.

The crumbling column glowed white and her wand shivered at the contact.

'Okay, keep your wand steady. I will tap my wand beside it to register you in our records. Once that's done, let's walk through. Here we go.'

As soon as both wands touched the surface, the column radiated as if it swallowed the sun. The solidity of its spherical form was slowly dissolving, turning into a column of light. With a nod from Agent Harris, Hermione left the ancient ruin and stepped into the threshold of the Guild University.

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A/N: I seriously considered writing a separate fic for all The Guild flashbacks, but then I realised it should belong to this Peculiar story as it creates the context of Fleurmione's dynamic. Thank you all for following, for writing helpful reviews (and for making it a favourite, even if I had just one measly chapter so far). A little wave to Jules and Joan for being the first two to respond, thank you. Hope you will all stay with me as I have a twisty plot, slippery slope of fem slash goodness in store for you. Reviews are love!