They say the early bird catches the worm. But what about the cat who likes to play with the mouse before the killing blow strikes? That's precisely how Hermione felt. She is the wee mouse, and Lucius Malfoy is the fierce feline. The man's predatory gaze did nothing to calm her nerves, nor did his snakehead cane leaning on the chair beside him. His controlled composure was making her feel uneasy. For all the younger witch knew, he could be one of those men who seemed quite calm but then erratically snapped. She wouldn't put it past him. After all, he was a death eater.

Regardless of Hermione's rapid heartbeat, she could also play it calm, cool, and collected. With years of practice under her belt, the witch tried to seem nonchalant. In fact, her shoulders are so mellow Crookshanks would be jealous. The only thing needed is for her eyes to say I do not care. However, that's easier said than done because, like Marcus, her eyes give her away every time.

It's situations like this, Hermione is thankful for her father's favorite movie. It seemed like a Saturday ritual with the dentist watching the film and trying his best impersonation on his wife and daughter. In Hermione's mind, the man would watch it every weekend, even if he didn't. She hated the movie and longed for it to end. For you see, Paul Granger loves The Godfather.

That movie taught the younger witch something important. Her father would watch it so often that bits and pieces got stuck in her brain one way or the other. Never mind the violence or the blood, The Godfather had much to say about enemies. A Michael Corleone quote comes to mind, "Never hate your enemies. It affects your judgment."

That's true- difficult but true.

So, as she sat on the expensive couch, Hermione did her best to appear unruffled. It wouldn't do for Lucius to know this whole ordeal made her as nervous as a pig in a meat factory. For all of this, her hand shook a little while reaching for the water that the blonde-haired man floated to the coffee table.

Lucius smirked at the sight of the tremor and said in his arrogant tone, "The little mouse is timid with the big bad death eater. Nature can be cruel that way."

Hermione narrowed her caramel eyes and told him, "I am unbothered by bad spirits and too busy for petty judgments."

The opposing man let out a chuckle and noted, "Yes. One would wonder when you had time to play detective, what with your wedding preparations and your little Lord Flint recuperating. Shouldn't they be of more value to you than chasing after evil? After all, the world will never be left wanting for bad men or bad wizards."

Primly holding the glass in her hands, Hermione stated, "Evil never sleeps, and when it tries to sink its claws into my home, I will not rest until it's put out. Besides, very few people are what they seem. Take you, for example. No person knows the criminal order of the death eaters better than you. That's why I'm here."

She refused to let this man get to her with the objective calling. But the wizard in question eyed her with the same distaste and said, "Let's cut to the chase. You are here because you think I know things that you don't. And that bothers you because you like to know everything."

The witch tapped her mauve nails on the side of the glass, hearing their ting. "Hmm... Maybe at one point, I was like that. Now I only care about knowing what other people do not. There's a big difference. One is knowledge only for selfish purposes, and the other is knowledge to help. My interests led me here, and I'm not so prideful as to discount it."

She saw the man's posture stiffen slightly as if bored or disinterested in continuing the conversation. So, Hermione added, "Besides, I hear the Phoenician egret is lovely. Don't you agree?"

The man seemed unaffected except for the tightening grip of his right hand on the leather club chair. No one would have known had they not been looking for it. Lucky for Hermione because her eyes had been scrutinizing everything, including his long hair secured with a black grosgrain ribbon. Everyone carries their secrets, but eventually, like a groundhog, they will come out. Nothing stays secret forever.

With a sniff, Lucius let his steely eyes examine the witch sharing his space. "So, you've gotten old Maxwell to talk. I never took him for the type to associate with a mudblood. Even in death, the fool bewilders me," he admitted.

Holding her ground, Hermione contended, "They say let he who is without sin cast the first stone. And to be without sin requires absolute purity on every level. It's nondiscriminatory that way."

The witch sipped the water as the man smirked. She smiled sweetly behind the glass and couldn't help but feel sorry for those like Lucius and his son. His dedication to stinking thinking is admirable but faulty. That's because Hermione knows the brain often gets left out of the equation when a person builds up a belief in something. It's usually a more emotional connection, so much so that they believe it with their whole being. They want to hold onto their passionate convictions even when faced with truth contrary to their views of reality. Like most things in life, there should be a healthy balance of facts and emotions.

Lucius got up and returned to the bar cart. He began fixing another drink while speaking. "You, like most people, think you know me but are blinded by your assumptions. I applaud that because it allows a person like me to pass unnoticed. As Hamlet told Ophelia, 'God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.' There are two sides to every story and every person."

She would have choked if she had been drinking more of the water. Hermione had thought the same about him no less than a minute ago, ironic as it may seem. She wondered if he had used some high-level form of legilimency on her that goes undetected. When dealing with dark wizards, nothing is off the table.

But then Lucius turned around and stared her down, making the witch's arms break out in minuscule goosebumps. He imparted a few words that left her speechless. "But those who can blur the moral dividing line hold the true power."

The extravagant wizard returned to his seat across from her and began conversing. "I learned a lot of things during my time as a death eater. One main thing was that evil is awakened by ambition. And it's alert and swift enough to seize the occasion. I am chief among all sinners, Miss Granger."

She sat still, listening to every word, and honestly, even if words came to her, she wouldn't speak them. What could she say to this? Especially when Lucius said, "Illusions are fascinating, don't you think? Unlike magic, illusions are false. If we choose to, we can live in a world of comforting illusions. We can allow ourselves to be deceived by false realities. Or we can use them to hide our true intentions. The mirror always wears two faces."

He swirled the crystal glass, and the ice cubes clinked. "Inside every person is the capacity for good and evil. Desire and ambition draw out one or the other. There is truth to be found in both. What I divulge to you are facts from the darkness. I suppose this is my penance for the damage caused by my past transgressions."

His words rubbed her raw. If he's looking for amnesty for his misdeeds, he'll get none from her. Her arm itched where the vile word was carved into it. This man stood there watching as his demented sister-in-law branded her. But if she doesn't forgive Lucius, does that make her as corrupt as him? That's a thought to ponder another day.

Summoning a bound notebook, the tall wizard crossed his leg and settled into the chair. He revealed some facts of interest. "No doubt, there's a list in your brain with all the uncaptured death eater's names on it. I'm sure you've dwindled the list down to at least one whom you think The Alchemist may be. Do I know The Alchemist?"

Lucius leaned forward as if about to share a secret. "Let me ask you a question. Why do you assume The Alchemist is interested in little Lord Flint?"

That caught Hermione off guard. Of all the things he could have asked, that wasn't the one she thought would be it. Her forehead wrinkled before responding. "Well, Marcus is the apparent target. He's the heir and acting Lord of the Flint estate. One of his ancestors, Magnum Flint, is aiding The Alchemist. Marcus was attacked twice. There's just cause mingled with fact."

Lucius sat back and told her, "I see. A person seldom finds something if they never actually look for it."

The witch huffed out a breath of irritation, but the shrewd wizard resumed his talk before she could speak. "Did you ever consider that maybe your fiance' is not the target? Judging by your face, you haven't. It's a shame, really, given that hate isn't very creative. It recycles more than producing anything innovative. Now Magnum Flint was a man who was inventive and crafty, more than even Voldemort himself."

It never once occurred to Hermione that Marcus might not be the target. But, "That doesn't make sense. If Marcus isn't the target, then why go to all the trouble of harming him?"

Hermione went over the lists in her mind. She's close to discovering something if only she could uncover the right link. Not being able to put everything together is infuriating. Almost as much as Lucius's stare, which is withering. It made her want to turn away for fear she'd become stone the more she kept it.

The man imparted a few choice words. "Miss Granger, any invention requires two things. One is the ability to test the experiments. And the other is not having to live with the collateral damage of the ones that failed. Marcus Flint is nothing but collateral damage."

That pierced the witch to the heart. Her fiance' being collateral damage is upsetting, especially knowing how he's been treated in the past. It seems as if Marcus has been a casualty all his life, from his father's treatment of him to the mean-spirited snobby Slytherin girls. It's all the more reason Hermione admires him. Her guy has risen above any spirit of victimhood mentality he could have adopted. Marcus is proof of overcoming labels because we're all labeled something at some point in life.

Lucius explained, "Little Lord Flint witnessed things he wasn't supposed to see. He knew too much, and like any witness, he had to be gotten rid of one way or the other. Since Marcus isn't the target, who is? Think Miss Granger. Use the clues you've gathered. They're full of obvious things if only you examined."

Oh, Merlin! This man is maddening and driving her to want to pull her hair out. Instead of doing that, which would make Cora shriek, Hermione stood and began pacing. It's helpful in times like this one. "Alright, taking Marcus out of the picture leaves little to no intended targets. So, I have to rely on everything else."

The witch began thinking about the potions, and Lucius said, "Why focus on those? They've been around since Magnum Flint made them centuries ago. No. Keep going."

Her mind wandered to the man she assumes is The Alchemist. But Lucius told her, "Appearances can be deceiving."

And that stopped her in her high heels. The blonde said that before to her. It's a clue, which she'll stick away for later because something is jumping out very vividly. So the witch detailed, "I keep coming back to the idea of the Crown of Thornes. I don't know why but something is there. I know it, but I can't determine what exactly. Is that a lost cause to focus on?"

As with everything Lucius shared, he didn't come out and say yes. Instead, he used flowing words like, "Intuition should never be ignored, Miss Granger. It represents information obtained too fast for the conscience to comprehend."

In other words, that would be a big yes. At least, Hermione thought so. "Alright, considering the Crown of Thornes, it's a plant. It's sometimes called the Christ plant. It should be treated like a cactus and is poisonous to humans and pets-"

Lucius interrupted her monologue by saying, "Bah! I don't need a discourse on herbology. I had that in school, and it bored me to tears then as it does now. I need you to contemplate and combine the name with other thorny things you know. Specifically people."

Thorny people? What is the wizard getting at? Growing tired of these word games, Hermione huffed another breath and plopped onto the leather sofa. She picked up a throw pillow and hugged it to her, playing with the fringe at the end.

But Lucius wouldn't let her have not a minute's rest. He kept at it. "Miss Granger, I thought you were The Brightest Witch of Her Age. You bested my son in every class but broom riding. You figured out the horcruxes, and it was you who survived brutal torture in my home. A lesser wizard or witch would have succumbed to the pressure, but not you. Now stop this wallowing with self-pity, and stop playing with the pillow. It's already frayed enough like my nerves."

If ever she had a back-handed compliment, that would be the highest one on her list. Letting go of the fringe, Hermione settled for hugging the pillow instead. Thorny people... Well, Molly Weasley comes to mind, as does Lavender Brown. That inventory could also include her future mother-in-law, despite their newfound friendship. Hermione thought about Cora, and almost like a flash of light, something clicked. The younger witch sat up straight, with her brows knitted together.

Her mind began racing down every backroad and alleyway. Surely not! But, "The one I can think of is the one thing that's opposite of the Crown of Thorns. Mr. Malfoy, are you saying that The Alchemist's intended target is the Rosemont witches?"

After taking a slow sip of the firewhiskey, Lucius praised her thinking. "I see you've deduced it. I must say it took longer than I expected, especially after all the heralded talk of your mental prowess. But here we are. Now, what are we going to do about it?"

That stopped Hermione short. "We," she asked.

Lucius sniffed and used his arrogant voice. "Yes, we. You don't think I will sit here and let you run headfirst into more dangerous territory than Voldemort presented? I could, but where would that get me?"

This man is giving her a migraine. She rubbed her temples as he kept talking. "No. You see, I consider myself fortunate. As you know, most morality tales don't have a happy ending. For some reason, karma decided to spare me. But not without leaving deeply etched wounds on my son, wife, fortune, and me. So, you have a choice to make. If you want to catch this criminal, you will do so with my assistance, which I don't offer voluntarily to anyone. However, because it's you, I will make an exception."

Decisions are what define people, and Hermione knew this was one of those rare defining moments. Good grief! Either she takes on Lucius Malfoy as a partner, or she's back to square one with nothing to go on except this new knowledge. She sighed wearily and wondered, "Alright, I accept your offer. But I want to know why you're willing to help me when you haven't been as forthcoming to the Auror department."

Lucius took his cane and ran his hand over the snakehead. He confessed, "You and I are similar. Everything we've done has been out of loyalty to the people we love. I crossed the line while you played it safe. Knowledge, Miss Granger, can be like the skin on the water's surface, or it can go all the way down to the mud. It can be the tiny tip of the iceberg or the full hundred percent. I know things you and the ministry do not. I don't know everything, but that's where you come in. And if that doesn't work, consider it as me paying my debt for what was done to you in my home."

He withdrew his wand and pointed it at a painting. The painting moved, and a safe opened. This action made Hermione wonder what was with these wizards and their love of safes. Papers came flying onto her lap. She began studying them and realized, "You're being blackmailed?"

Lucius smiled slightly. "Ah, you've figured that out too. The love of money can do wicked things to one's soul."

The witch began turning the facts over and estimated, "So, we've got murder, mad scientist experiments, dark magic, polyjuice gone awry, unapprehended death eaters, crimes we probably have no knowledge of, bribery, and strange bedfellows."

She said the last part with her eyes on the wizard across from her. The wizard smirked and stated, "Every mystery needs a dose of wildness and absurdity."

His wand returned the documents in her lap to the safe and closed it. Then Lucius stood and grasped his cane. He walked to his desk, opened a drawer, and withdrew something he had placed in his pocket. His eyes turned to the lady in the room, and he remarked, "Miss Granger, it may be the greater crime is not murder. No. It's possible it could be a betrayal."

The man began heading for the double wooden doors. He only stopped to call out, "Are you going to sit there or come with me? We have a golden egret to fetch, followed by a drink at The Red Dragon in the afternoon. All of this starts at my vault. Time is the best killer, and we have none of it to waste."

And just like that, Hermione's world spun on its axis. The most uncommon duo was formed- a self-important, pureblooded, ex-death eater and a brainy vanquisher of Voldemort, who happens to be a mudblood. Life is odd that way and sometimes very ironic. That's when it hit her. They're like a bizarre version of Batman and Robin, or is it Batman and The Penguin- opposite in every way? However, she's learned that opposites are not always contradictory but complementary. Thelma and Louise come to mind as well. Hermione only hopes Lucius doesn't lead them over a cliff.

As the witch sat pondering this, the man declared, "Make haste Miss Granger!"

She jumped up and rushed to the door, following behind the wizard. The pair just might end up being the most unlikely unbeatable duo in the wizarding world. After all, a person can accomplish much more with a partner than working alone. That's how empires are made.