Fenrir did not leave her waiting for long. It was less than twenty-four hours later when he called her again to let her know that he was bringing in his people to discuss moving his illegally earned money through their establishments.

"Miss me already?" she asked with a snort, when she answered the phone, seeing his name flash on her mobile. She'd saved his name to the phone book after their last call.

"You are all I think about these days, Peach," his throaty voice answered from the other end, chuckling.

"I highly doubt that, Fenrir," she said with a scolding tone. She didn't like the way that it made her stomach twist in anticipation — anticipation of what she wasn't entirely sure. "It's not good to lie."

"Well, it's not entirely the truth," he agreed, sighing. "You're right, I do have other things that have my attention."

"Hopefully cash-intensive businesses were one of those things," she said, knowing that they needed to get this up and running if she was going to ever end her time undercover. The sooner that she helped Fenrir set up avenues to launder his money, the sooner she could get back to the safety of her desk and her spreadsheets.

"It's always business with you," he said, sounding disappointed. "Yeah, I talked to my people and they are ready to come in so that you can speak with them. Today."

"That's not a lot of time," Hermions said with a put upon sigh, even though she knew that she didn't really have anything better to do. "What if I had other plans?"

"You work for me, now, Peach," Fenrir answered, his voice dangerous and even. "You don't have any other plans outside of what I tell you. Understand?"

Hermione swallowed thickly, but she took his warning. While it was fun to kind of poke him a little, she didn't want to know what would happen if she disobeyed him. That was not part of her get-in get-out plan. "Lucky for you, my afternoon is free," she squeaked.

"Good," he said, practically purring in pleasure. "Remus has... volunteered to come get you, even though I told him that you'd be capable of getting here yourself. But apparently, he thinks that you are a lady who shouldn't have to lift a finger, so he's coming."

She rolled her eyes, even though Fenrir couldn't see it on the other line. "He has my number," she said, tersely. "He can call when he gets here."

"Looking forward to seeing you, Peach," he said, before hanging up the phone, not waiting for a response.

Hermione muttered to herself about the audacity of Remus, even though she knew he probably just wanted to speak to her without any prying ears. She wondered if he was going to try to scold her for the way that she'd behaved with Fenrir the time before, as he'd obviously reported her "bad behavior" to Sirius already. Well, she wasn't going to give him any sort of apology.

She got dressed mechanically and was just looking at herself in the mirror when she got a text from Remus, letting her know that he was waiting outside of her flat. Pulling on her black boots at the door, Hermione locked the door behind her and ran down the stairs. She slipped into the passenger side of his gold colored sedan, arms crossed over her chest like armor.

"Well, hello to you, too," Remus muttered at her frosty entrance.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, not really sure what to say. "I don't like being ordered around," she told him, wishing that he could see things from her point of view. "And I don't appreciate you gossiping with Sirius either about my first meeting with Fenrir."

At least Remus had the decency to look embarrassed. "I wasn't gossiping," he insisted. "Just giving him my report."

"Speculating on my enjoyment of being manhandled by Fenrir Greyback is not giving a report, Remus," she told him, not willing to get this slide. "Whatever, just drive. Let's get this over with."

Remus started driving and resisted talking to her for approximately thirty seconds. "You didn't call me when Fenrir asked you to come in," he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You know that I'm here to help you. And, I can't protect you if I don't know what you are up to."

"I thought it was me who was here to help you," she said, snidely. "And, I don't need your protection. Fenrir likes me. He's not going to hurt me."

"I hope you are right, Hermione, but respectfully, you don't know him like I do," he said, firmly. "You haven't seen the things that I have. I just want you to be careful."

"Message received, Remus," she said, pouting slightly. She thought that she was doing a great job, all things considered. It wasn't like she'd had any formal training and she already felt like she had the man eating out of the palm of her hand. "I'll give you a heads up next time if I know in advance. But, I think it will be more suspicious if you are chaperoning me at every turn."

The way that Remus winced seemed to suggest that he could see things from her perspective. Remus was meant to have found her, but she was meant to have had experience doing this kind of work before. It would be suspicious to Fenrir if it seemed like Hermione needed a babysitter.

Any further discussion would have to wait until later, because in the next minute they had arrived at the warehouse and Hermione was practically opening the door and jumping out before the car was even in park. She made her way in like she knew what she was doing, heading straight for Fenrir's office. She paused to lean against the door jam when she got there, finding Fenrir working away, counting dollar bills.

"Remus got you here in one piece then?" he asked with a smirk.

Before Hermione could answer, she felt the looming presence of Remus behind her. Returning the smirk, she gave her secret coworker a little pat on the chest. "Yes, such a gentleman," she teased. "I've never had a chauffeur before."

She swaggered into the office. "So, where are your people?" she asked, surprised to find him alone. Of course, she knew that they would be here eventually. It seemed like everyone worked on Fenrir's time and she didn't think that he'd ask her here for no reason.

"They'll be here soon," he promised her. "Until then, why don't you make yourself comfortable."

"There isn't a chair for me," Hermione said with a pout, making a show of looking around the room.

Fenrir leaned back in the chair. She now had his complete attention, his money left forgotten on the desk. He gave her a crooked sort of grin and patted one of his legs. "I've got a spot for you right here, Peach," he offered, his voice sultry.

Hermione fought not to blush and swallowed. There was no way that she was going to sit on Fenrir's lap. "I'll just stand," she said with a squeak, any bravado she had saved up evaporating in the blink of an eye.

He barked out a laugh and tilted his head towards Remus. "Go get some chairs, Lupin," he ordered.

Remus gave her an unreadable sort of look, but eventually he left the room as he was bade. Hermione wondered if he was worrying about leaving her alone with Fenrir again. In any case, it didn't take too long for Remus to come back in, carrying two folding chairs under each arm. She wanted to say something to him about showing off, but bit her tongue, not needing to antagonize him further.

"You're joining us, Remus?" Fenrir asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I figured I could stay," he said, almost daring Fenrir to send him off.

Hermione couldn't figure out what was going on between the two of them, but it made her feel a little bit nervous. Maybe Remus didn't have as good of a handle on things as she thought he did. He was supposed to be good with Fenrir, but there was an undercurrent here that she didn't know what to make of.

She happily sat down in the seat that was next to Fenrir and Remus opened his to sit next to her. Hermione turned her attention to the boss. He looked good, as he always did. He wore a light blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her attention was briefly captured by the tattoo again, and she wondered what it could be. Part of her wanted to reach over and push the sleeve up further to reveal it, but she stamped that down. Even though Fenrir was flirty, she didn't know how he would handle being touched.

The scruff on his jaw was slightly more pronounced than usual and she was surprised by how she wanted to run her hands along the strong curve of his jaw to feel the stubble beneath her fingers. She'd never been with a man with any sort of facial hair before, but it was enticing on Fenrir. Sitting as close to him as she was, she could smell just the barest hint of cologne, too — tasteful and understated. Completely unexpected for a man like Fenrir.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, letting her know that she'd been caught in her not so subtle perusal of his person.

Hermione gave him a big sigh. "Well, I was. But then you had to ruin it — opening your mouth," she taunted. "Now. Tell me about these businesses. You said it's a mechanic shop and a strip club, right?"

Fenrir nodded. "Yeah, Greengrass & Sons and the Slippery Serpent," he told her with a grin. "You are quite familiar with that one, aren't you, Remus?"

She turned to face her friend, looking at him surprised. He looked a bit embarrassed to have that revealed, but he couldn't say anything to defend himself at the moment. Luckily for Remus, he was saved by the arrival of a beautiful blonde woman striding into the room.

"Fenrir," the woman said breezily, in a rather familiar sort of way. "Is this her? The accountant?"

Hermione didn't wait for Fenrir to respond. "Yes, that's me. Hermione," she greeted with a fake smile plastered on. She wasn't entirely sure why, but she didn't want this woman to think that she was better than Hermione was. "And you must work at the Slippery Serpent?" she asked.

The woman scoffed, clearly annoyed at the assumption. "No — god no, I wouldn't be caught dead in that place," she said, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "Why would you think that?"

Hermione was more than embarrassed at how wrong she'd been. She wasn't entirely sure what had made her assume that the woman was a stripper. Well, maybe it was because she was very attractive. She was sure that if she wanted, the blonde could do quite well for herself at the Slippery Serpent. "I don't know," she said, feeling guilty. "I just supposed that it was because it's called Greengrass & Sons," she added weakly.

"Oh, so you think that women can't be mechanics, then?" the woman turned it back around on her again.

Hermione felt even worse at the assumption. "Of course not. I think that women can do anything they set their minds to," she insisted, wanting this woman not to think poorly of her. "But, like I said, it's Greengrass & Sons, not Greengrass & Children or Greengrass & Daughters, and well, you certainly aren't old enough to have children of your own, who would also be working at the shop."

She gave Hermione a smirk and sat down in one of the available chairs, tucking a perfect blonde wave behind her ear, showing off oil stained cuticles. She crossed one leg over the other, her coveralls equally stained black by hard work in a shop floor. "Sorry, I couldn't help but fuck with you a little bit," she said, obviously pleased with herself. "I'm Daphne, Daphne Greengrass, by the way. And yes, my father was a sexist prick who was positive he'd have a whole gaggle of sons when he named his shop. Unfortunately for him, he just got me and my sister. Greengrass & Daughters, though — I like it. Maybe I'll change the name."

It felt like a whirlwind to see the change in Daphne's behavior, but Hermione was pretty pleased with the other side to the blonde. She couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she liked Daphne. "Sorry about your father," Hermione said, unsure of herself.

"The prick is dead now. It's no terrible loss to me," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "He wasn't totally terrible, though. He did teach us how to work on cars even though we didn't have cocks."

Hermione could not help but laugh at that. She decided then that she definitely liked Daphne. "I'd wager that you are probably better at it than a son would have been anyway," she quipped.

"And far prettier to look at," another voice came from the door. "Hello gorgeous. How are you doing?"

Daphne made a noise of disgust when the man bent at the waist to press a wet kiss to her cheek. "Ugh, stay away, Scabior," she said, giving the man a little shove.

"I had to try, didn't I?" he asked, before slouching his way into the last remaining chair. His eyes settled on Hermione as the next available woman in the room. "Well, hello to you, too. Greyback, when did you get such beautiful... companions?"

Hermione did not care for the way the man made no secret of the way he was looking up and down her body, chewing on a toothpick between his teeth. It made her skin crawl — and she was forced to confront that it was absolutely different from when Fenrir did it. He had slightly too long hair that wasn't styled and a nose that was too big for his face and his lanky body. He wore a red fake leather jacket with a knock off Burberry scarf around his neck. The room was overwhelmed quickly with the scent of his cologne. There was absolutely no chance that he could be anyone but the owner of the Slippery Serpent strip club.

Fenrir laughed at the question. "You know how it is, Scabior. Power is always the most attractive thing to a beautiful woman," he said, opening his arms wide. "I can't help it. They flock to me."

Daphne shot her a look and fought a smirk, rolling her eyes. Clearly, she was used to Fenrir's grandiosity, too. It was nice to seemingly have an ally in the situation, especially because she'd quickly learned that Remus just didn't understand.

"Scabior, was it?" Hermione asked, turning up her nose at the other man. "Owner of the Slippery Serpent... establishment?"

The man in question returned his attention to her, offering his hand to her. Hermione took it, hesitantly, only to be annoyed when he pressed his lips to the back of her hand like some sort of Victorian gentleman. "At your service, beautiful," he said, with a grin. "I don't suppose you are in the market for a new job, since you must be working for Fenrir, here."

Hermione gave him a tight smile. "I don't work for Fenrir," she said, sharply. "I'm more of a consultant. And you can call me Hermione."

"Ah, Peach, don't be like that," Fenrir said, looking at her like she'd just shot him in the heart.

She shrugged her shoulders at him. "It's the truth. We can talk more once we've moved the initial amount," she added, almost as an afterthought. Hopefully, she would get him started on laundering his giant pile of money and then disappear off into the ether so the rest of the Bureau could do their damn jobs and let her get back to hers. But, she didn't want to upset him prematurely.

"I know that everyone's time is valuable, so I will get down to business," she said, taking control of the meeting, so they'd actually make some progress. Then, she started explaining to Daphne and Scabior how they would slowly begin to pepper in some of Fenrir's illegally gained money into their legally earned tender and deposit it. They couldn't increase profits too quickly or it might tip someone off. Then, they would be able to transfer the money back to Fenrir in the form of a salary.

"But, you understand that this means that Fenrir will have a part ownership stake in your companies?" she asked, wanting everyone to have a very clear picture of what was happening. She didn't really care what happened to Scabior, but the thought of Daphne potentially losing her family's business made her stomach turn with nerves.

"Of course," Scabior said with a shrug of his skinny shoulders. "Greyback's already been a silent partner, so this is just formalizing things."

"Daphne?" Hermione asked, wanting the woman to know that she had a choice (even if Hermione wasn't entirely sure that she did have a choice."

"Absolutely," she said, giving Fenrir a fond grin. "He's helped me out more than once, especially right when I first took over from my dad. We've been paying him protection for years. It'll be good to have him on board. But I'm not fucking changing the name, Greyback, so don't get any ideas."

Fenrir laughed at that. "I wouldn't want my name anywhere near your shabby little shop in the first place," he countered, playfully.

Hermione was pleased to hear that everyone was in agreement, though she was disappointed that Fenrir was for all intents and purposes extorting money from Daphne, too. She wanted to say something, but she knew it wasn't her place. He was a crime boss, after all, not a nice guy. And, besides, there seemed to be some sort of familiar energy between Daphne and Fenrir anyway. She wasn't sure why, but it made Hermione clench her jaw.

"Well, since everyone is on the same page, I think that we can sign the papers," she said, pulling out the documents that had been prepared. She wasn't a lawyer, but she knew enough about these sorts of contracts that she'd been able to put together an agreement in principle, enough to get them started. They would need to make it lawyer official at some point in the future, but she wasn't fussed with that. These sort of people weren't too bound by the legalities of business anyway.

Once everything was done, Fenrir pulled out a half-drunk bottle of whiskey and some glasses from the side drawer in his desk and poured them each a ration. They toasted to their new business venture and everyone took their shot. Hermione could feel her cheeks go pink from the alcohol and wondered what the hell she was doing, actually enjoying herself .