A/N: Thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!

Hermione felt her heart drop as soon as Fenrir suggested that they were going to meet Antonin that day. Of course, in the grand scheme of their investigation, she knew that this was a good thing — that Sirius and Remus had been right. That she was going to be able to learn things about Fenrir and his higher-ups' set up that they wouldn't be able to figure out just with Remus. But, she'd hoped that she would have had a bit more time to mentally prepare before she came face to face with him.

Even though Fenrir was technically scary, he hadn't really frightened her that much, mostly because she knew that she had Remus with her to step in if things got out of hand. Now, she just had Fenrir to protect her and she wasn't even entirely sure how he felt about her. It was enough to have her shaking in her black boots.

Shoving a hand in her pocket, she felt around for her mobile, considering the danger of sending a quick text to Sirius to let him know where she was. Suddenly, she was feeling rather foolish for the gleeful way that she'd left the warehouse, rubbing it in to Remus, almost. Hermione knew now that the risk was too great to truly consider, but she did feel a little bit better knowing that Sirius was just a clumsy call away should things go wrong.

Trying to put a better spin on things, she reminded herself that meeting Antonin was a good thing. It had to be. Even if she'd had the time to properly prepare, it wasn't as if their organization had much on him to begin with. That was part of the reason why she'd been sent undercover. And, she was going to remember every single detail that she could about him so that they could take down Antonin and Tom Riddle.

"Are you sure that you want me to meet him?" Hermione asked Fenrir cheekily. "I thought you were planning on keeping me all to yourself?" She reached out to grab his hand, her thumb toying with the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist.

He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Some things are above my paygrade," he said, though she could sense that he didn't like being told what to do. "He wants to meet you."

That made a shiver of fear race down her spine. The knowledge that she was somehow known enough to Antonin that he would request to meet her was not comforting in the least. "Well, lead the way, I suppose," Hermione said, hoping he couldn't tell how glum she felt. "It's not as if I have a choice in the matter."

Fenrir led them through the gym and up the stairs to a small office that overlooked a second gym. There was a tall blond man shadow boxing in the ring below. He looked massive. Hermione didn't fancy the thought of fighting him. He sort of seemed like he could take on a bear and win.

"Ah, Fenrir," a heavily accented voice pulled her attention from the lone boxer to the man that was waiting for them in the office. "Brother, how are you?"

Fenrir pulled the man in with a side hug, a broad smile on his face. "Antonin, good to see you," he answered, completely at ease. "It's been too long."

"You've been too busy, brother," Antonin answered again.

"Well, I've been trying to move all that money we've been making. It's been taking up most of my attention lately," Fenrir explained. "It's a good problem to have."

Antonin was a tall man, and stocky. He had dark brown hair and even darker eyes. The dull look in them only made him seem more dangerous. Almost like he had no emotion at all. And, Hermione fought not to shudder when those dark eyes finally landed on her, looking her over. It was clear that it was not from a place of lust or desire — like Fenrir had — but rather that he was sizing her up, looking her over for weak spots and vulnerabilities. Like he needed to know where she could hurt.

"Ah, and this is the woman who is busting your balls?" he asked, sounding rather disdainfully.

Hermione snorted in amusement, wondering if anyone could actually believe that she was in control of Fenrir in any way. "I'm Hermione," she said, giving him a brief nod of her head. "Pleased to meet you."

Antonin did not seem amused to be addressed directly and gave Fenrir an odd sort of smile. "Yes, I can see that she is," he said.

Fenrir chuckled, throwing an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "What can I say, I like having her around," he explained. "She's much better to look at than Stan or Remus."

"So it seems," Antonin added, though Hermione got the distinct opinion that he was not at all impressed with the way that she looked.

"Anyway, it's a big job, and Hermione has been running a tight ship," Fenrir said, giving her the first clear indication that he was happy with her work. "She's made a lot of progress already. Should only take a few months before we are straight."

"Hopefully less if we can pull off this boxing match," Hermione said, trying to be helpful. She was getting the message loud and clear that Antonin did not want her around any more than she needed to be.

"That's if Fenrir doesn't find more money for you, accountant," he said, a shark-like grin on his face.

Hermione did not like the way that he'd called her accountant, like it was an insult, but it would be silly to argue with that. Instead, she laughed. "No, no, I'm just a consultant," she explained. "I'll be getting Fenrir set up and then he'll be able to continue on his own. Or have one of his guys take care of the day to day. And then I'll... ride off into the sunset."

"You'll disappear into nothing, just like you came from nothing," Antonin said, sneering. "You are a very difficult woman to get information about. Almost like you appeared out of thin air."

She cleared her throat, not entirely sure what to say. "That's the way my clients prefer it," she lied. "But, if you know who to ask... I think you'll find I'm not a ghost."

If Antonin was unimpressed with her before, being told that he didn't know where to look for her only seemed to make him more annoyed with her. "Is that so?" he asked, looking her up and down once again.

"Come on, Antonin," Fenrir said, pulling her even tighter against his body. "Listen, Hermione is working for me and I've got this handled, okay? No need to interrogate her."

It felt better than she could have imagined to be protected by Fenrir and she felt herself melting into his side. She was surrounded by his scent and it had a calming effect on her. She could take on Antonin — of course she could — when she was safely tucked away with Fenrir. She didn't need the help of Remus or Sirius, not when she had the real muscle on her side.

"Fine, business," he said, before walking around to the other side of the desk, flopping into the chair, leaning back as though he didn't have a care in the world. "Did you see my nephew down there? Ilya? He is ready to make his debut, no?"

Hermione and Fenrir sat in the two metal chairs on the other side of the desk. Hermione tried not to appear as uncomfortable as she felt, but she couldn't decide how to sit. Eventually, she settled on crossing her arms and leaning back, hoping to mirror Antonin's own body language. If there was one thing she knew about undercover work, it was that she was supposed to create a rapport with these people. She didn't have much hope in Antonin's case.

Fenrir looked over his shoulder at the open window, though he couldn't actually see the young man shadow boxing. "That big fuck is your nephew? Your sister's kid?" he asked, perhaps thinking that they didn't look much alike at all.

"Yes, she sent him to me earlier this year," Antonin said proudly. "He wants to be a boxer more than anything in the world and so, now we have this opportunity, I will make it so."

"Whatever Ilya wants, I suppose," Fenrir said with a snort.

"More like whatever Nina wants," Antonin answered with a wry grin. Obviously, his sister was quite important to him. "But, Uncle Antonin gets it done."

"He's lucky to have you looking out for him," Hermione said, helpfully.

Antonin glared at her and it did not take long for the message to sink in — he was not interested in hearing anything that she had to say, whether Fenrir vouched for her or not. He reached across the desk to a bowl of lollies and took one out, tossing the wrapper into the trash before popping the pink colored candy in his mouth. He did not offer either of them anything.

"I was thinking that we could have two or three undercard bouts first," Fenrir said, wanting to get things back on track. "Ilya could be the title of course."

"Yes, he will be the title," Antonin agreed. "Do you have anyone in mind for the other fights?"

"Well, Lucius's kid wants a chance, that little shit," Fenrir said, rolling his eyes. "We'll definitely have to fix that for him to win. And I'm talking to two other guys from the neighborhood."

"Fucking Lucius," Antonin said, rolling his eyes. "At least I will get to see little Malfoy get punched in the face."

Hermione filed that name away... Lucius Malfoy. Whoever he was, he seemed to know both Fenrir and Antonin and have some level of pull if he was able to get his son in a fight that he wanted. Neither of them seemed to like the man or his son, though, so perhaps that was a tidbit that could be used for future... leverage.

"Have him fight Rabastan," Antonin said, waving his hand, as though it was done. "You can pay him in coke and he won't let slip that the fight is fixed. Do you trust your other guys, too?"

Fenrir smirked, crossing his own arms over his chest. "Yeah, they know when to shut up about things," he said, confidently. "And they also know what would happen to them if they went against me."

Antonin returned the smirk. "Perfect. I would not want to go against you, brother."

"And your nephew?" Fenrir asked, running his hand over the tip of his nose. "Do you want us to fix his fight, too? Or is he looking for the full experience?"

The other man swore under his breath. "Ilya must win or he will be a problem," he said, rolling his eyes. "But, he is family, it cannot be helped."

"I think we can make that happen," Fenrir said confidently. "Maybe even give him his first knockout."

"He cannot know about it, though," Antonin continued. "His ego is... he must win, but he cannot know. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, we will get someone in. Someone small. Maybe we can put Stan up to it. If you give him enough money, he'll do just about anything," Fenrir said, shrugging.

Hermione snorted. "You don't mean Stan? Like Stan, Stan? The guy who meets me at the door?" she asked, looking at him incredulously.

"Yeah, what's wrong with him?" Fenrir asked, looking surprised that she was speaking up again.

"Because there is no way that they are even remotely in the same weight class," she said with a snort. "Look, I'm no boxing manager, but... I would never take odds against Ilya for fucking Stan. It's just too obvious."

"We can make the weigh in work," Antonin said, defensively. "I can talk to Ilya."

"It's not about that. If you want to fix the match, you have to make it at least believable. You need to put Ilya up against someone that he has no business beating, but he has a chance. Otherwise, you just won't be able to sell that this was a fair fight," she explained, wondering how it was that these two got anything done.

"But, it's not going to be a fair fight," Antonin said, with a grin. "Because Ilya will win."

"I know that, you know that," Hermione said, running her hands through her hair in annoyance. "But we need hundreds of schmucks out there to not know that to give us their money. We need to set the odds at a favorable ratio so that we can move Fenrir's money."

Antonin scoffed at her, making clear that he thought it was all very annoying. "I will make the odds whatever I say it is, and I will make the profits whatever I say it is," he said, obviously feeling that he was the sole authority there.

"Listen, Antonin, I don't know if you've ever fixed a match of this size before, but you are about to make a real amateur mistake," she said, doing her best not to roll her eyes back at him. Part of her wanted him to fail, if he wasn't going to listen to her advice. "You have to look at it from a regulatory angle. Because people are going to give a match of this size a second look and if things don't add up, they are going to have questions. Lots of questions."

He didn't look pleased, but he at least seemed to be listening to her. His fingers rolled the lolly in his mouth, clinking it against his teeth. "I can handle questions," he answered.

"Yeah, but they could freeze up the assets from this fight for as long as they please," Hermione said. "As long as it takes them to figure it out. And then, they could even take the profits if they find even a hint of wrongdoing."

"She has a point, Tony," Fenrir said, leaning forward.

"What's it to her, anyway? Regulators?" Antonin asked, still not willing to listen to her expertise.

"Because some of it is my money, too," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest again. "I'd like to be fucking paid for my work, okay."

Antonin smirked, hearing what her skin in the game was. "Fine, if not Stan, you have some person in mind for who Ilya should be fighting?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lower lip. While she didn't know a lot about boxing, she did know a little bit. After all, Charlie, Ron's older brother, had had a short stint as an amateur boxer himself, before one bad concussion made him quit. She knew more than she should. "I don't know, but get someone big... maybe a little bit past their prime?" she suggested, trying to think of the people she'd seen fight. "Do you think you could get Marcus Flint?"

Antonin and Fenrir shared a look so unreadable that Hermione could feel her stomach twisting in nerves again. What had she said? Was Marcus Flint not good or something? But, before she could agonize over it much longer, Antonin was rewarding her with his fist genuine smile. He pushed the little bowl of lollies towards her. "Sucker?" he asked.

Hesitantly, Hermione took one, shoving the wrapper in her pocket. She shoved the cherry flavored lolly in her mouth, thankful to have something to keep her from talking.

"I can see why you like this one," Antonin said, smirking at her. "She's a fierce little thing, isn't she? Not afraid to speak her mind?"

Fenrir grinned, obviously pleased at how she'd done. Hermione began to feel like she'd passed some sort of secret test. "Yeah, if what she said wasn't the absolute truth, we would have had problems," he agreed. "But I like my women opinionated."

Hermione wanted to say something about how she wasn't his woman, but instead, she bit down on her lollipop. She hoped that they didn't see the blush that was blossoming on her cheeks, feeling rather like a little girl instead of the feisty woman they saw her as.

"Well, if you ever get sick of her, you tell me. I can set you up with Nina. I tell you, that woman has more opinions than she knows what to do with," Antonin said, shaking his head. "And always the opinion that you are doing something wrong. But, she is family, what can you do?"

Fenrir laughed. "Keep her happy, I suppose," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"We will meet again soon," Antonin said, shooing them away from his desk. "You go, I must speak to Marcus and we will find a date for this fight. Goodbye Fenrir, Hermione." He smiled at her and again, Hermione was shocked by how quickly his opinion on her changed. He'd gone from all out hating her to thinking she was some sort of boxing genius in the flip of a coin.

She stood from the desk and walked out of the office, chancing another peak at Ilya below. He hadn't let up with the shadow boxing at all. He was young and had some talent, but mostly, it was hard to see how anyone would think about betting against him. She hoped that they were making a good decision here.

Fenrir caught her by the waist and pulled her from the office, leading her down the stairs and through the gym, back to where his car was parked. "What do you think, Peach? Can we move a good chunk of money through here?" he asked.

Hermione caught her lower lip again. "I think it could work, but... I'd be careful about how much you try to move. It's risky. If you get caught, you could stand to lose a lot," she cautioned him, not wanting to destroy so much of her hard work.

"With Antonin, there is always more money to be had," he said with a grin. Fenrir held the door open for her. "You did good, Peach. I like having you by my side. You make me seem smart." His hand dropped from her waist to her arse, giving her a gentle pat as she got into the car.

She hated that the praise made her grin. She shouldn't enjoy helping him so much.