Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, magic, etc. belongs to JKR. No money is being made.

Chapter 3: A Woman Scorned

***

I had not been back to the office more than ten minutes when Percy paid me a visit.

"The Minister of Magic requests your presence at once," he said, without any other greeting.

Percy was looking more and more like Mr. Weasley the older he got. Even with his pristine robes, hair combed within and inch of its life, his always serious face, and incredible pompousness he could never hide those big blue Weasley eyes and awkward lankiness he, along with Ron and Bill, inherited from their father. Oh, and the ginger hair.

"Hello to you too, Percy," I said.

He looked confused for a moment but quickly recovered. "Oh, hello Hermione. I'm sorry but this is not a social call, the Minister really needs to see you immediately."

Of course it wasn't a social call. I internally rolled my eyes, but stood anyway. The Minister rarely, if ever sent his Undersecretary to summon me. It must really be important.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a physically imposing man. He towered at over six feet, and was built like someone that could smack bludgers with his bare hands. He was bald and wore one tiny hoop earring in his left ear. Not what one thinks of when they picture the Minister of Magic, but he had the uncanny ability to be both politically savvy and incorruptible.

"Welcome, Director Granger," he said sliding his dark brown hand over mine. He shook it briefly and pointed to a chair on the other side of his desk. I sat as indicated and Percy remained standing in the corner.

Shacklebolt's normally warm eyes darted about and he adjusted his robes more times than I could count. I was a little on edge now, it was not common for the unflappable Kingsley Shacklebolt to be nervous.

I fought to keep my voice steady. "Minister, is there something you wish to tell me?"

He finally looked at me. He wasn't happy. "Of course, but I am awaiting the arrival of Auror Potter before I begin. I only want to say this once." His voice was so deep it made me want to clear my throat.

I didn't respond, there was nothing to say really. While we waited for Harry, I watched the Minister grow increasingly more agitated and I grew more nervous, too. What was going on?

I was about ready go drag Harry up from the seventh floor myself, when finally he entered. We had parted ways less than a half hour ago, and he now looked just as upset as the Minister. This certainly wasn't good.

He patted me on the shoulder and greeted the Minister and Percy, then took a seat next to me.

Shacklebolt said, "A fourth woman was reported missing last night … and found less than an hour ago."

I knew from the tone of his voice that she was dead. I took a deep breath. Was she skinless like the other woman? If the Aurors had the suspects in custody, then who was responsible for the dead bodies?

At some cue from the Minister, Harry pulled a stack of photos from the folder he was carrying. I pulled the first one from the pile and recognized the face.

"Her name was Roberta Castlegory, as you know," said the Minister

I did know. Roberta had worked in my department. It had been my idea to station her in the Muggle Prime Minister's cabinet. We negotiated a wicked deal with the Muggles. She was my eyes and ears when I was unavailable and a way for the Prime Minister to have instant access to us if necessary. She was also Muggle-born and married to a very wealthy pureblood wizard – Cristos Casltegory.

Casltegory owned a leading brand of ink that only stained parchment. It's so popular because no one can figure out what enchantment he's using that makes the ink semi-invisible. I suddenly had a heavy feeling in my chest. I'd met Cristos and I don't think that I had ever met a man that loved his wife more. I pushed him from my mind. I didn't want to be the only person in the room weeping.

I had to focus on the case. "How did they get to someone so close to the Minister?" I asked.

Harry answered this time. "She was taken from her home when she was alone. Apparently someone activated her perfume bottle as a Portkey …"

"Wait a minute, if they used a Portkey, then we can just trace it."

Harry shook his head, but Kingsley but answered. "No, Hermione, it was an illegally made Portkey. Someone knows how to activate Portkeys without the Ministry approval. Could be any number of former employees." He seemed to think about what he'd said. "Or current ones for that matter. All the more reason to keep this investigation top secret."

We had all fallen silent, when Harry started shaking his head. "I don't get it though. The victims, besides being Muggle-born have nothing in common. I feel like there should be … something else. I'm just not seeing it."

Percy cleared his throat. I had nearly forgotten he was ever present. "Pardon me, Minister. Isn't it obvious, though?

"Isn't what obvious?" Kingsley asked.

Percy almost preened with self satisfaction.

"Out with it Percy," Harry said with just a hint of threat in his voice.

"Harry, please. Percy, if you know something that could help, please enlighten us. Women are dying."

Percy looked apologetic and stepped forward. "Well," he said slowly, thinking, "We've been certain for a while that a member of Rightblood is behind these attacks, but what if we've not been completely right? I agree that this person may have ties to the organization but the … nature of the crimes seems pretty personal. That is to say, why kill just women, why discriminate your victims?" He paused for effect. "I'm almost positive the perpetrator is a woman."

"You can't possibly know that," Kingsley said.

Percy shrugged. "I believe that if it were a man there would certainly be more of a …" He seemed to be searching for the right word. "A pattern."

Once again, Kingsley looked ready to argue, but Harry spoke first.

"Perc, you're bloody brilliant when you want to be."

"Someone explain what is happening," Kingsley demanded.

I explained. "Percy is right. The Muggles have studied this extensively. The profile of a serial killer is pretty much cut and dry. The killer is almost always male. He chooses his victims based on some common physical trait that is usually characteristic of some other female archetype of his psyche. His victims might have hair color or length, height, weight, physical endowment, or all of the above in common." I paused. "The crimes are also normally sexual in nature."

Harry beamed.

"That's interesting, but how does that prove that the person we're looking for is a witch?" Kingsley asked.

Harry pulled out eight photographs and spread them out on the desk. I knew what he meant to do. Four of the pictures were taken of the women before … in happier times. They were all beautiful, but beyond that nothing physical in common.

The other four were after the—well, just after.

"What do you see, Minister?" Harry asked.

Kingsley studied the photos for several moments, frowning at times.

"I don't know. They're all women? Nothing," he finally affirmed. "Except they were all killed the exact same way. So it's definitely one killer."

"Precisely," Harry said. "Nothing in common that you can see. They have different hair, different height, eyes, and so on. Their only commonalities are that they are all Muggle-born and all dead." He pointed to the after pictures.

Harry stood then and started to elaborate, pacing as he did.

"We were certain the killer was targeting Muggle-borns, but until now we couldn't be certain that the victims were deliberately women or if it was a coincidence. But that's what brick walled us, we couldn't find a connection. What kind of person were we looking for? Who could we rule out?" He stopped and sat back down and picked up the most recent victim's picture. "Why these women?"

Comprehension showed in the Minister's face. "How sure are we that it's a woman?"

Harry smiled. "Pretty damn sure, Minister. The women are all fully clothed below the waist, examiners confirm no sexual violation. These women are all Muggle-borns married to prominent pureblood wizards. So you see sir, we are looking for a woman."

"Not just any woman," Percy added, "a woman with a personal grudge or vendetta against Muggle-born women."

No one said anything for quite sometime, but I knew what they were thinking because I was thinking it too. We were looking for a woman scorned. Merlin, save us.

***

Harry had taken out a scrap of parchment and began scribbling, not even asking the Minister if he could use his quill and inkwell. Percy had gone back to looking pleased with himself.

It was me who broke the silence. "Minister, I'm terribly pleased that we've managed to make some progress, but has anyone contacted the Muggle Prime Minister, yet? I'm sure he's wondering why Roberta hasn't shown for work."

"No, and that's precisely why I've asked you to join this meeting. Mrs. Castlegory was part of your department, Hermione. Her position with the Muggles was extremely helpful, but ...." He paused and I waited for him to go on. He did. "I think you should decide if we will replace her immediately or not. I only ask that this be done in a timely manner. Once you have decided, I will contact the Muggles."

It was actually a difficult decision. Most everyone in my department was half-blood or Muggle-born. Of the people who I immediately knew were qualified for this position, none of them were pureblood.

I would certainly be frightened if I were moved into a new position because my predecessor had been murdered. Bother, I couldn't think about it now. I realized that the Minister was still waiting for my response. I nodded, decided to be a bit more professional and said, "Yes, thank you Minister. I'll think about it."

Harry stood again and announced that he needed to hold a meeting with the other Aurors about the break in the case. Assuming our meeting was over, I stood too.

"One more thing, Director," Kingsley said. When Kingsley used my title, I knew a direct order was coming. I prepared myself. "Auror Potter will have to release an official statement to the press soon and once the papers get a hold of it, well …. Frankly, I'm a little nervous about the fear it's going to cause among the people. I refuse to have everyone living in fear again of another evil wizard."

He sat down on the front edge of his desk and stared at something I couldn't see. Kingsley had been at this since the war, I wondered if he would give it up soon. But I didn't say anything out loud. I waited for him to get to the part I knew I wouldn't like.

"I want you to speak at the ball," he said finally.

The ball. A celebration the Minister himself had initiated. It started as something much smaller to commemorate the lives sacrificed for the rest of us to live in equality without fear. Now, in its fifth year, it was the social event of the year and was really more of a place for rich sycophants and Ministry officials to gather and drink.

I quit speaking at those things in the second year, Ron the year after that. I stopped because I felt people were using the dead rather than honoring them. Harry only still gave a speech because he was the Hero. He'd actually tried to get the Ministry to quit throwing the things completely, but was out voted.

I said, "Of course Minister. I can understand why my word as a survivor and a Muggle-born could be uplifting. I'm honored that you even considered me." I didn't lie.

Kingsley almost smiled. The first hint of one I'd seen since I stepped into his office over an hour ago. "Hermione, I know how you feel about speaking and even more about the ball. Thank you for doing this." He touched my shoulder, his large hand nearly covering it completely.

"Minister, I was nearly killed during the last war for the very same reason that these women have died. If all I can do to really help this time is speak at the ball, then I can't think of any reason that would prevent me from attending."

When I finally got out of Kingsley's office, I was halfway down the corridor from the Minister's office before Percy caught up to me.

"Hermione, Hermione! A moment please," he called.

"What is it Percy? Did the Minister forget something?" I asked when I turned. I don't think I had ever seen Percy do anything other than strut briskly in all the years I'd known him. At almost a run, I was semi-alarmed.

"No, the Minister is busy making calls," he said once he caught up. I waited for him to continue but he didn't

"Ok, what's the matter then?"

He gave me a look that I'd seen Ron give Ginny loads of times, just before she did something to worry him. "Nothing is wrong. I merely had a suggestion."

"Out with it Percy."

"Perhaps you should wait a while before placing anyone with the Muggles," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Thank you Percy. I will take that into consideration when I make the decision."

"You didn't even hear my argument," he said.

"I'm not arguing."

"Hermione, I'm quite serious."

I felt bad. He was only concerned for me. "I'm sorry Percy." I leaned against the wall and felt everything that had happened since Saturday catching up with me. "I really do value your opinion, you're a smart man and you're a Weasley, so I doubly respect you."

I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch.

"But," I continued. "I haven't had time to think about anything. Right now, all I can do is promise to consider it."

"All right, very well then," said Percy. He suddenly looked worried again.

"Is there something else you wish to discuss?" I asked softly.

"Be careful," he finally said.

"Excuse me?" I said, blinking in surprise.

He looked me in the eyes, and though his face was an arrogant mask, I could clearly see the worry in his eyes.

"Look, I know I've been a git for half the time you've known me," he began. "But, I can't deny that my family loves you. Don't think for a moment that Ron and Harry haven't already discussed this …"

"Percy you're scaring me now."

He did smile then, Mr. Weasley's smile. "Obviously, you are Muggle-born and quite popular. You are unwed, for now, but I highly doubt that would stop this mad-woman from doing you harm. It would be prudent to remember that."

Percy and I had never been best mates, and since he'd gotten married I'd seen him even less. But, I did know that Percy didn't parade his feelings around for everyone to see. His concern for me now was certainly unexpected and I had a sudden urge to hug him. I didn't though, he wouldn't appreciate it and it'd just be silly.

But he was right. I hadn't wanted to think about it, like everything else I'd pushed out of my mind. However, I could no longer ignore it; after all I did fit a lot of the victim profile: Muggle-born, woman. Something, most likely fear, coiled in my gut.

I ignored it. Instead, saying, "Percy that is probably the nicest thing you've said to me. I appreciate your concern. I—I can't live in fear though. That's just inviting danger."

"I'm not telling you to be paranoid, only cautious. It wouldn't hurt to raise a few extra wards on your home or to always carry your wand for an easy draw. You're smart Hermione, remember that."

Before I could argue, he turned and strode down the corridor.


Notes: This chapter is shorter, so I expect to be making an update within a few days. Thanks to drcjsnider for her beta skills. Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews. I hope you enjoyed!

Expect much more Dramione interaction for the next few chapters! I've already written through chapter 12. This story should be around 15 chapters, just so you know.