A new Idea. This will be very sporadic in uploads. I hope you enjoy what is out there.

Best wishes,

Alex

Prologue

Light, so much light filtered into through the windows. Monstrous double paned rectangles framed with soft blue silk that flittered from the perpetually soft spring breeze wafting into the room from the emerald prairie. Hermione looked around the elegant study with a crimson Persian rug and oversized gently worn yet sill immaculate leather chairs. One of which she occupied as it flanked the fireplace bringing a phantom illusion of warmth to the room. The giant mahogany desk imposed upon most of the furniture in the room except for an enormous wing backed leather chair waiting for its owner to make use of it.

All in all, the room was tastefully done, simple, and clean with smatterings of history dotted about the room. Hermione took a deep breath. She had to get back to work. Death stopped for no one, and she had souls to collect, bring to the Domain, and guide them to their next destination.

"Damn," she cursed as she looked to her watched, the number 3 popped up on her specialized timepiece that told her of the new souls needing to be collected. The numbers began to climb and her annoyance at being in this meeting was wearing thin her nerves. 6 souls needed collecting immediately.

BOOM!

The heavy wooden doors to the study flew open. In flew a short man, only 5 foot 6 inches, in a frenzy of whirling energy.

Hermione hopped to her feet, but the brown-haired man put his hand in the air and motioned for her to sit. Hermione did as she was gestured to do and watched her boss. He wore medium brown khakis, navy blue loafers with no socks, dark brown belt, and a pale pink polo shirt tucked into his pants to complete the look.

"Hermione," Death began, then snapped his fingers and a tea service appeared before them. Hermione lifted her right eyebrow.

"All of my favorites," Hermione watched Death's black endless eyes shine as he smiled then, "What do you want?" she asked sitting back crossing her arms and legs closing herself off to the offering before her. Death's smile dropped as he sat down when Hermione deadpanned asked of him.

"There is a war brewing with the mortals in England," Death offered as he took a sip from his cup watching Hermione. Eyes clashed and bore into the others. Hermione moved for her teacup.

"Good. Our business is death," Hermione quipped as she inhaled lemon zinger tea, "Is it between the magical and non-magical communities again?" Hermione asked circling her index finger over the rim of her mug watching her boss.

"Magical only," Death offered. Hermione sipped her tea slowly, then sighed still watching Death. Damned magic users always make things complicated. It always seems to take a toll, and a high one at that.

"There are not many magic users left," Hermione stated trying to get more information.

"No, there are not," Death sighed along with her, but gave her no more information. Once more their eyes met.

"Why am I here?" Hermione glares wearily over her teacup.

"I want you to retrieve the Hallows," Death's soothing voice seemed to recoil off the walls like a racquetball. Hermione stilled, looked over her cup again, then placed the china on its tea saucer calmly.

"You want me to WHAT!?" Hermione sprang to life yelling her inquiry.

"Hermione…" Death began but was hushed as Hermione lifted her own finger to her boss as she began to pace.

"I can't. I have a job. Filing, the books, transporting… EVERYTHING!" she shouted finally spinning on Death.

"Hermione, I can't retrieve them. You know this. Only my blood mixed with a mortal…" Death said softly but was once more stopped as Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Father, I understand, but what makes you think I can find them?" Hermione asked hoping for a way out, a way to do anything but this mission.

Death stood quickly and grasped Hermione's shoulders. Her brown eyes stared into infinite black.

"You are my flesh and blood and hers. You will find them for they are apart of me, therefore apart of you. You will be able to feel them close by, detect them," Death said softly as he explained. Hermione pulled from Death's comforting grasp looking down, far away.

"I have a job. I am the best at this. No one can…"

"Yes, I agree no one can do this job like you, but I ask not as Death, but as your father, find the Hallows. Retrieve them, and remove them from the battlefield," Death softly asked, and Hermione was duty-bound to nod for it was her duty as his daughter.

"Do you have any idea where they are?' she sighed yielding to Death.

"Yes, England. All are in England, but at that I have lost them," Death supplied and then stroked his hairless chin, "I know one is in Scotland most of the time. I think one of the wizards are in possession of the wand."

"Alright, what's my cover and how long do I have to be gone?" Hermione hoped her questions drove home the importance of her absence as she looked at her watch. Damn, 11 souls to be collected.

"As long as it takes," Death answered and reached out. He clasped her wrist and slipped off the watch as she argued its removal, "Gil will take your duties until you return," Death informed in a more solid tone.

"GIL?! Freaking GILGAMESH!? Bleeding, pompous, Gilgamesh?!" Hermione screeched. Death held up the watch. Hermione watched as the numbers dwindled. Hermione crossed her arms and huffed, "Fine. What's my cover?" Hermione petulantly grouched.

"You will disguise yourself as an 11-year-old muggleborn girl admitted into Hogwarts, England's premier wizarding school," Death smiled. The cover was perfect.

"WHAT!?"

Death's satisfied smile fell. It seems there is hell to pay and Death was about to foot the bill.