Hermione couldn't quite keep up with the barrage of emotions running through her. So she focused on one: incredulousness.

"You're a what?"

Leo's grin widened at her exclamation. He was clearly enjoying her discomfort.

"Is there anything ELSE I need to know?" Her voice was growing shrill. "Have you got a werewolf wife and pups back wherever you're from? Are you ex-CIA? Maybe aliens beamed you down to create all the crop circles—"

"For Merlin's sake, SHUT UP, Hermione. Good lord." He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes as she audibly seethed.

"A hit man, Leo?" Hermione was still wrapping her head around that part of it. She hadn't even begun to consider what him being assigned to kill Bellatrix meant. All she knew was that she felt as though she needed to vomit. Ex-Death Eater, murderer, what was next? And even more shocking was that he had willingly put his own exposure on the line. "And I thought you had at least half a brain."

Leo dropped his hands to his sides and looked up at her with narrowed eyes. That's right, you son of a bitch, I just called you stupid.

"Is that so?" His mouth was set in a hard line, but his eyes were dancing.

Hermione hesitated, and suddenly his face split into a grin. A genuine, crow's-feet-creating, overlarge-canine-bearing, mischievous smile. She had never seen him look quite so… normal. It was completely disarming. For a split second, she could actually believe that Leo was his father's son.

And then she mentally pinched herself and resumed her annoyed, hands-on-hips stance. "How can you possibly look so self-satisfied right now?"

"That's the first compliment you've ever given me."

She blinked at him. I… what? Compliment?

"You said I had at least had half a brain, that's better than none at all—"

Impulsively she grabbed a musty pillow off a nearby armchair and chucked it at him. He was unprepared and it smacked him squarely in the face, kicking up a cloud of dust and forcing him to double over in a fit of coughs.

"Serves you right," she muttered, but had to discreetly stifle a grin with her hand. As she watched him shake the dust from his curls and jacket, an uncomfortable feeling nagged at her from somewhere in the back of her mind, reminding her that she shouldn't be acting so familiar with him. It's not like they were friends or anything, after all...

She shook her head and let her anger bring her back to where their conversation had left off. "You really don't realize how badly you've put yourself at risk, do you Leo?"

He nudged the pillow away from him with his boot and folded his arms. "You're joking, right? You're not actually going to lecture me on the dangers of being an assassin, now, are you?"

When he put it that way, Hermione's courage faltered slightly. "That's not really what I meant. I was referring to exposing yourself if you were ever to get in trouble with the authorities."

"Muggle authorities are hardly any reason to be concerned," he scoffed at her.

Now it was Hermione's turn to close her eyes and rub her temples. "You really are disillusioned. Honestly Leo. D'you think that strange Muggle deaths are going to just go unnoticed by the Ministry? They take Statute of Secrecy violations very seriously. Even if they can't track your wand or don't know you exist, sooner or later, someone's going to find out something they shouldn't."

"Like you did."

His voice was level but for a brief second, his eyes softened.

"Yes. Like I did."

He paused. "Well for your information, Miss Granger, I don't use the killing curse on Muggles. Only wizards. With anything, though, the key is to make it look like an accident—"

"Okay, okay, I don't need details," Hermione interrupted, holding up her hands. "I just…"

Oh Merlin. No. Oh no. This was bad. "Wait. You said wizards?"

"Not very often, but I'll get the occasional bid from someone who—"

"Leo, Leo... stop." Before she knew what she was doing she had her hands on either side of his face, looking him dead in the eye. Her heart jumped into her throat. "Someone knows."

He frowned back at her, looking equally disconcerted. "They can't know. I only exist in the Muggle world."

She realized that she still hand her hands on his face, and blushed, letting them fall to her sides. He raised an eyebrow at her, and her breath caught in her throat. She was close enough to count his eyelashes….

She snapped out of it, unable to relax and breathe normally until after putting a few steps between them. "Then how could anyone know that you're qualified and capable of killing a wizard?"

"I just assumed that they didn't know the person they wanted dead was a wizard." He quirked his lip upward as if to add, 'duh.'

Hermione's face fell. "Oh."

Leo chuckled and gave her a light punch on the shoulder. "You really do over-think things, Hermione. More often than not, the simplest answer is the correct one."

He really was infuriating. She quickly tried to think of a way to recover her dignity. "Well, it's always best to consider all possible scenarios," she said with a pout.

Leo shook his head and pocketed Bellatrix's photo, walking over to perch on the sofa and examine the other two cards that were also enclosed. In the heat of their argument, they had been forgotten. Now, he flipped them over, and the color drained from his face. "Shit, Hermione."

Uh oh. Not good. "What is it? What's the matter?"

He tossed her one.

The Eleventh Annual Vine Family New Year's Masquerade

[Revelio]

She frowned, flipping it over. The other side was blank. "That's it? What does that mean?"

"It means this," he said, tight-lipped. He tapped the invitation with his wand. "Revelio."

The card sprang to life and zoomed into the air, pitching and rolling as its corners folded in to create a makeshift mouth. A smooth, female voice filled their ears.

"The Vine Family cordially invites you to their winter estate for the Eleventh Annual Masquerade Ball to welcome the coming New Year, on the thirty-first of December at ten o'clock in the evening."

Hermione shared a horrified look with Leo.

She had been right. Somebody had to know he was a wizard. They knew he would be able open the invitation.

The voice continued. "Please observe formal Masquerade attire and present this card to the doorman for admittance. Do make note that Muggles are strictly prohibited from the premises and all necessary precautions will be taken.

Necessary precautions?

"We look forward to welcoming you into our winter manor on Otis Lane in Wellington, New Zealand. Your invitation may serve as a portkey between the hours of 9 and 11 and again at 2:30 as we fiercely discourage inebriated Apparition. Alanna, Aleck, Adrian, and Audra thank you for your swift RSVP."

The talking invitation spit out a small square of parchment, which floated in front of Leo's face expectantly.

"Erm… what do I do?" He looked at Hermione, who shrugged.

"We can't put our names on there, of course."

"Our?"

It was all she could do not to roll her eyes at him. "There are two invitations. Obviously whoever sent this to you thought you should go with someone."

"And you think that it should be you." It wasn't a question, just a dubious statement.

She sighed in exasperation and held her arms out, indicating the rest of the room. "Look around, Leo! Is anyone else lining up for it?"

"Having someone else along would just jeopardize the job," he said darkly. "I work alone."

"You don't understand who Bellatrix is, I take it. You can't do this alone."

"Au contraire, Hermione," he hissed, taking her by surprise with his change in tone. "I don't need to know much more than the fact that she is my father's murderer, and that I'll take immense pleasure in being the one responsible for her death." His eyes glinted yellow briefly, and Hermione was sobered by the reminder of the impending full moon. This was the Leo she knew. Despite his posturing though, she wasn't about to let him win. She stood her ground.

"And, what, Leo? You think I wouldn't?" She barely recognized the voice coming out of her mouth as her own; it had a dark, dangerous edge to it that rivaled Leo's, and he sat up a little straighter. She squared her shoulders and took a threatening step toward him.

"You don't think I've dreamed of the day when I can Crucio the living daylights out of the woman who took the sanity, and, essentially the lives, of both parents of a very good friend of mine?" Hermione raked her fingernails through her unruly hair in frustration. "You don't think that I would positively relish having my hands around the throat of the bitch who stole someone so dear to me away from this world before his time? Because if that's the case, Leo Black, you are sorely mistaken."

She began to pace, drawing courage and momentum from her burning, passionate loathing of the notorious female Death Eater. "I want to give her a taste of her own medicine," she seethed quietly. "I want to serve up her nappy-haired head on a platter and then send it in a pretty package to Voldemort himself."

And in that moment, she was quite sure she had never been so resolute about anything in her life. Like hell if he was going to keep her away from the chance to obtain justice for all the people whose lives had been ruined because of Bellatrix Lestrange.

She expected a harsh retort, but her rant was met with silence. Leo was giving her the oddest look. She stared him down, trying to discern what he was thinking behind that impassive mask of his. The tension between them escalated when his face split once more into a sinister grin.

But… Oh, mercy, Merlin, and Thor. This was not just a grin. No one had ever looked at her the way he was looking at her now. She had no idea what it was. It was terrifying, humbling, exhilarating, and unnerving all at once. Her heart was in her throat and the adrenaline coursing through her body didn't do much to help abate the sense of looming disaster in the pit of her stomach.

What the hell? What is wrong with me? Get a fucking grip!

But she couldn't. She was rooted to the spot by his dilated pupils and yellow-rimmed irises. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears and her fingertips. She was at a loss as to what was going on.

"So it speaks," Leo mused in a silky, ethereal voice. He slowly stood from his perch on the edge of the sofa. "The darkness within her finally speaks. Finally, Hermione, there's a little fight in you." He began to close the distance between them, and she realized a bit too late that she actually couldn't physically move from where she stood. Her head was screaming at her to run, but every muscle in her body protested when her neurons fired and tried to tell them what to do.

He was inches away from her and his irises were almost completely engulfed by yellow now. His pupils were massive. She could do nothing but stand, paralyzed by his hypnotic gaze, and overwhelmed with a sense of need that was both calming and wholly… well… carnal. And then her thoughts were no longer frantic; in fact, she had never felt so clear-headed. Somewhere in the distance, her fears were held captive and silenced.

Leo loomed over her, cocking his head to one side and inhaling her scent deeply. She thought she heard a low growl come from somewhere, but she was so far up, up floating blissfully on a cloud of secure, happy thoughts… it was all so far away from her. She was so far from the ground, lost in his eyes. Lost in the yellow.

Yellow…

He raised a hand to her face, twirling a lock of her honey-colored hair between his thumb and forefinger. His breathing had become ragged, but she was so deep into the yellow that it wasn't odd… no, in fact, the ragged breathing she was hearing was her own. But it was okay. The yellow was telling her that it was okay.

And then he drew a long finger down the side of her face and gently tilted her chin upwards, and Hermione felt a burning jolt move through her body at his touch, a rush of warmth that shot through her abdomen like wildfire and settled cozily in her groin.

"Hermione…"

The sound of her name was a bucket of ice water that jerked her out of the trance and knocked her backward on her arse. She looked up at the thoroughly-shocked, heavily panting man standing over her. Something within her snapped.

"HOLY FUCK, LEO, WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WAS THAT?"

He backed away from her quickly as she scrambled to her feet, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and shaking his head. "I… uh… I don't—"

"You don't know? YOU. DON'T. KNOW." Each word was punctuated by a stab of her finger into his sternum. Hermione was pissed. Oh, boy, she was really fucking angry. "What are you playing at, Black?" She raked her fingers through her hair so hard she thought she'd tear it out. She was so overwhelmed and confused.

"Calm down, Hermione, please," Leo pleaded.

"I'm trying," she managed through gritted teeth. "Will you PLEASE explain to me what on earth just happened?"

Leo inhaled and exhaled deeply, briefly closing his eyes, as if he was mentally counting to ten. "It's the full moon, I think," he said wearily, after some time. "Weird shit like that will happen occasionally. I have mood swings, my libido spikes…" he shifted gears, realizing what he was saying. "I didn't know Weres could do that. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of that to happen, just now."

Hermione felt slightly nauseous and her head pounded as if she were coming off of some really good drugs. It made her nervous that he hadn't been trying to make anything happen… what else could happen without him trying? The thought was almost as unsettling as the fact that she had almost been enjoying it… Nope. No, no, no. She quickly squashed the thought. That wasn't really her, after all. And with a slight pang, she realized it wasn't really him, either.

"I think I need some water," she managed to splutter before sprint-limping from the room. She felt Leo's gaze burning holes in her back the entire way.

Well, that could have gone better.

The wolf had retreated to its den, subdued for now, and Leo slowly found the humanity inside of him again. He wrapped himself in it like a warm, secure blanket… he was thoroughly shaken and drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions.

He slumped back down into the couch and let his head fall into his hands. Number one, he was already pissed at Hermione for being obnoxious. That was already given. He was pissed at himself for losing control like that and letting the wolf take over... but mainly, he was confused about how he could still, at this moment, feel guilty about what had transpired.

Guilt was a very, very foreign emotion to him. He didn't like it, and he didn't like what its presence was implying at the moment.

He was afraid of what would have happened if Hermione hadn't snapped out of it. They were cutting it too close now. It was getting too dangerous for him to be around her this near to the full moon. Even with the Wolfsbane potion, he was apt to be unpredictable…

Bluntly put, if things had kept on their course, he could guarantee he would have done one of two things: either ripped her fragile little body to a bloody, pulpy mess, or bent her over that armchair and…

Oh, Gods. Stop it. That thought process is way off limits, you sick bastard.

Yeah, but that was just it, wasn't it? He was a sick bastard. He was a bloodthirsty animal. And nothing could ever fucking change that, could it?

'Not even a beautiful girl,' a soft, menacing voice hissed from deep within him. Leo froze. 'You're a fool, Leo. Don't deny who you are... what you are. Don't try to fight it, Leo...'

The hair on the back of his neck and forearms prickled at those words, which were loud enough to him as if they had been spoken. He could see two gleaming yellow eyes just beyond the cavern of his subconscious and tried desperately to shove the wolf away. No... please, not again...

Shut up, he pleaded, digging his fingers into his hair. His heartbeat rushed in his ears, growing ever louder and faster as he struggled inside his head for control. Just go away... just please, go away...

'You're a fool, Leo... and you will lose.'

Something poked his forehead, jolting him out of his morbid abyss of self-loathing. He squinted, even in the dim light, as his pupils contracted back to their normal size. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "What the…"

It was that blasted little RSVP note, fluttering around impatiently.

Oh, fantastic. He still had to figure this thing out, too. He swatted it away, attempting to focus on breathing normally again, but it simply chose dance in circles around his pounding head.

Hermione was right; he couldn't just stick his name on the damned thing. He sighed. Did he really think he could pull of this assassination on his own? She certainly seemed determined to see this through with him, and she had a good enough reason to. It not like he really had to worry about her not pulling her weight.

And she was sharp. He couldn't deny her that. It would look less suspicious if he showed up with a date, surely. The issue was just liability. It would be hard for him to keep track of her and Bellatrix. After all... she was still his captive and it would be the perfect opportunity for her to make a run for it.

Captive... He frowned. The word suddenly sounded wrong to him, but he didn't dwell on it.

He thought back to the way her fists clenched and unclenched when she spoke of Bellatrix earlier; that haunted, determined look that seemed so wrong on her sweet face, contorting her soft, rosy features into a dark mask of pure anger and loathing. No, he didn't think he had to worry about her making a run for it. He smiled to himself as he raised his wand and traced a simple number "2" on the card, which disappeared with a faint "pop" in a spurt of silvery confetti. She would definitely want to stay and see the show, and he would make sure it was worth her while.

I'm anxious to hear what you all think of Leo and Hermione's first little "moment"... As always, thanks for your feedback!