Lies and Secrets by reptilia28

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 02/03/2008
Last Updated: 22/10/2008
Status: Paused

Years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry and Hermione are part of an anti-terrorist division
operating within the Department of Mysteries that no one knows about, not even the Weasleys. When
they have to go undercover as a married couple, will new feelings blossom between the two friends
and fellow agents? Eventual H/Hr. Rating subject to change.




1. Hypothetical Situation
-------------------------



In anticipation for the (relatively) imminent finale of *Memories in my Blood*, as well as
the fact that I am drawing a total blank as far as *Daddy Dearest* is concerned, I have begun
my next project: an adaptation of my Secrecy challenge, which you can find in Portkey forums.

As usual, I don't own Harry Potter, just any OC's that may pop up.

----

Chapter 1 - Hypothetical Situation

Somewhere deep within the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, hidden away within the enigmatic
Department of Mysteries, was a room. Illuminated by a single light and completely devoid of
furnishings save for a small table and two chairs, two men sat within it, a stack of personnel
files between them.

“That time of the year again,” one of the men sighed as he took the folder at the top of the
stack and opened it, reading a personnel profile. His companion merely hummed in response as he
grabbed the next file and opened it.

“I understand that Potter is eligible for recruitment this year,” the second figure said
conversationally. The first man raised his eyebrow at his companion.

“Planning on snatching the Ministry's prized auror?” he asked, half-jokingly.

“Perhaps,” the second man responded, amusement lacing his voice. “Tell me about Potter and his
team.”

“Why should I?” the first man inquired, setting aside his first file and grabbing a new one. “I
thought you people knew everything.”

“We might, but I'd rather hear it from you,” the second man said, setting his folder aside
and taking another one. His companion sighed as he recalled information.

“Potter, combat and squad leader,” the first man recited from memory, “graduated from Hogwarts,
class of '98, applied to the Academy four months later. He sped through the training in two and
a half years, with special marks in combat training. His rather impressive penchant for killing
dark lords aside, Potter has easily become one of the best aurors under Ministry control right now.
However, he can be reckless at times, and has a habit of ignoring orders when he thinks it best.
Through either skill or sheer dumb luck, he manages to wriggle his way out of any situation that
this habit brings him into.”

“Recklessness and mild insubordination, we can deal with that,” the second man said,
unconcerned. “What about the rest of his team?”

“Granger, intelligence: graduated with honors class of '98. She sped through the training
with flying colors in just under two years. She's definitely the brains of the operation, but
sometimes she can analyze things a bit too deeply,” the first man said as he grabbed a third
file.

“In other words, a complete opposite from Potter's behavior,” the second man said, taking
another file. “Continue.”

“And finally Weasley, strategy: graduated class of '98, but just barely with enough
N.E.W.T.s to get into the Academy. He got through training a couple of months early. He plans the
raids for Potter's squad, and is a decent fighter, but other than that, not particularly
remarkable. His main flaw is his temper; he tends to argue with comrades over things of various
importance, and has a past history of anger and jealousy issues.”

“All problems that can be remedied with training,” the second man replied, setting his current
file down. “All of them are skilled soldiers, and all have issues that can be worked out. However,
the final test will be tomorrow, and we'll know for sure whether they're ready or not,” he
continued as he grabbed yet another file. His companion sighed as he repeated the action.

“Maybe,” he said neutrally as he read in the dim light.

------

Harry Potter sighed as he stood in the lift at the Ministry of Magic. Normally it was a fairly
short and smooth ride from the Atrium to his office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,
but today, it seemed like everybody had to go somewhere, so the lift was stopping for someone at
almost every single level. When the lift finally reached the appropriate level, Harry nearly dashed
out of the device to escape the feelings of claustrophobia that the densely packed population
inside was inspiring in him. As he approached his cubicle, he chuckled as the brown-haired woman
sitting at the neighboring desk.

“Beat me to work as usual, I see,” Harry said as he hung his robe on the back of his chair and
gave Hermione a hug.

“It's not my fault that I wake up before you two,” she said as she returned his embrace.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harry drawled, waving her off, “at least I get to work on time,” he
continued as he returned to his desk.

“At least,” she conceded before returning to her work. Half an hour later, a tall redhead
strolled into the room and entering Hermione's cubicle.

“Hey, babe,” Ron said as he bent down towards her.

“Hi, Ron,” Hermione replied, kissing her boyfriend on the lips briefly before frowning. “So nice
of you to join us, *half an hour late*,” she continued sternly. Ron just shrugged
indifferently and slapped Harry on the back.

“Hey mate, sorry if I don't kiss you,” Ron said as he walked to his cubicle.

“Damn, I was so looking forward to that,” Harry groaned, feigning disappointment. Sighing, Harry
shifted his attention to the large pile of papers on his desk. “Still got a bunch of paperwork from
the Crowley case to fill out,” he groaned as he grabbed a quill and began working on it. Ron merely
grunted his agreement.

“Honestly Harry, this is important,” Hermione huffed from behind her walls, although she
silently agreed with them, the seemingly endless paperwork was beginning to become tedious. The
aurors were doing an exceptionally good job containing stray Death Eaters after the fall of
Voldemort so by the time they had become actual aurors, most of them had already been captured and
imprisoned, so their days were mostly spent investigating petty crimes and filling
disproportionately large amounts of paperwork.

Around lunchtime, a monotonous female voice boomed throughout the DMLE office. “All aurors
report to meeting room two immediately,” it said simply before shutting off. As everyone stood up
and shuffled to the specified room, Hermione slapped her forehead.

“I'm such an idiot!” she hissed to herself.

“What?” Ron asked, confused.

“Today is the day for our bi-annual psychological examination, I completely forgot!” Hermione
groaned, mentally kicking herself for forgetting something so important.

“Wait, we were supposed to have an exam today?” Ron asked dumbly. “I didn't even know we
*had* psych exams.” Hermione huffed at him in frustration.

“Of course we have examinations, Ron, it's how they know whether we're fit for field
duty or not,” she admonished. “There was a memo on the bulletin board, didn't you see it?” Ron
cringed guiltily, proving that he had not. Harry had seen a memo on the board, but only briefly
glimpsed at it, so he did not know the contents any more than Ron did, but he was smart enough to
keep silent about it.

After they had arrived at meeting room two, Head Auror Wilkins explained the process and handed
out the forms to everyone. Mercifully, the questions were simple yes or no, Harry noted, whose hand
was beginning to cramp from a day of detailed writing. Taking up his quill, Harry began to answer
the questions. Most of the questions were pretty straightforward hypothetical situations, and Harry
answered them easily, but the final question gave Harry pause.

*If you had to lie to your friends and family in order to protect this kingdom and its
citizens, would you do it?*

It was such a simple question, yet Harry could not think of an adequate answer.

His first instinct was “no”, he couldn't lie to his best friends Ron and Hermione, his
surrogate family the Weasleys, or his possible wife Ginny. Yet, as he sat there with the quill in
his hand, doubt began to creep in. Would the lives of every British citizen be worth his friends
and family's curiosity, and his own clear conscious? Harry could not think of any such
situation where such measures would be necessary, not even during Voldemort's reign, but that
wasn't the point of the question.

Harry doubted that anyone would believe a lie of his, but it did not ask about his acting
abilities, but whether he could do it at all. Silently hoping that he would not regret his
decision, Harry dipped his quill tip into the ink bottle and circled his answer.

*Yes*.

Sighing heavily, Harry capped his ink bottle and blew on the paper to dry the ink before turning
it in and returning to his desk, Hermione having already returned to hers. Several minutes later,
Ron joined them.

“That wasn't too bad,” Ron said as he dropped into his chair with a thud, “but that last
question was a load of bollocks. I mean, come on, they must be nuts to think I'd lie to my
friends and family!” he exclaimed, outraged. “What about you, Hermione, what'd you say?” he
asked, getting up and walking over to her cubicle, Harry leaning his chair back to peer around the
wall. Hermione sighed as she tapped the tip of her quill on her desk.

“I said yes,” she admitted quietly. “I felt guilty for doing it, but I said yes.”

“What?!” Ron shouted, his ears turning red. “But Hermione, I'm your boyfriend!”

“And that makes you more important than everyone else in this country?” Hermione snapped
angrily. “I already said I felt guilty about it, but if it comes down to you or them, I'd lie
to you and everyone else for that matter!” Despite the hypocrisy of the feeling, Harry could not
help but feel a twinge of hurt when she said those words. Growling angrily, Ron turned to
Harry.

“What about you?” he asked through clenched teeth. Harry sighed and looked away from his friends
and squad mates.

“I said yes,” Harry said, bringing his chair back down onto its front legs and resuming his
paperwork.

“Unbelievable,” Ron groaned as he stomped back to his desk. “Un-bloody-believable.” Harry sighed
as he tuned out Ron's grumbling. He dismissed the question as a hypothetical situation, just
like every other question on that exam.

He just hoped that he would never wind up in a situation that would call him on his answer.

----

So, what do you think of it so far?

*Daddy Dearest* is next on my to-do list, I promise.

Don't forget to read and review!

-->



2. The Price of Peace
---------------------



Sorry guys, no witty comment this time.

Do I really have to say I don't own Harry Potter? I do? Fine.

----

Chapter 2 - The Price of Peace

Harry sighed as he carefully slinked through the crowds of Diagon Alley. It had been four months
since the evaluation, and Harry and his team were cleared for active duty. The question that had
initially caused some tension between them had been pushed from their minds entirely. In fact,
Harry had never been happier; he was back in the field, and he had just proposed to his girlfriend
of four years, Ginny Weasley. However, currently his mind was not on holy matrimony, but on the
mission that he was currently on. A merchant in Knockturn Alley was suspected of dealing items of a
questionable nature, and they had just acquired a warrant to search his inventory.

Harry walked down the dank side-street to the infamous Knockturn Alley, maneuvering its filthy
pathways to find his target: a small, dirty man hawking items off of a table between two lots.

“Interesting wares you're selling, Mister Kroker,” Harry said conversationally as he
approached the man. “Mind if I have a poke around?” he continued, holding up the search warrant.
Kroker chuckled nervously before blindly firing a stunner at Harry before bolting away. It was only
due to his seeker reflexes that Harry managed to block the spell and chase after the fugitive.
“He's on the run!” Harry shouted into his badge, signaling his squad mates. “He's heading
for the apparation depot!” Forcing himself through the crowd, Harry tried to catch up to his
smaller objective.

Ron, being the one closest to the apparation point in Diagon Alley, kept watch for Kroker. He
saw the smaller man weaving through the crowd, and Ron went towards him, but he Kroker ducked
around him and fled to the edge of the apparation point. Swearing, Ron drew his wand and fired a
stunner, hitting Kroker in the back and rendering him unconscious. Smiling triumphantly, Ron bent
down and wrapped handcuffs around Kroker's wrists. Harry and Hermione arrived from differing
sides of Diagon Alley just as Ron revived Kroker..

“Did you get him?” Harry asked, panting and heaving.

“Yep,” Ron said as he hauled Kroker to his feet.

“Great,” he panted. “You two send him back for processing; I'll go contain the mess in
Knockturn.” Nodding in acceptance, Hermione and Ron took Kroker into the apparation zone and
vanished with a pop. As Harry walked back to Knockturn Alley, he reached down and spoke into his
badge. “This is Potter requesting a containment crew be sent to the area between lots one-one-seven
and one-one-nine in Knockturn Alley ASAP,” he said before picking up the pace. It would not do to
go through all that work trying to obtain the illicit paraphernalia if someone stole it while he
wasn't there.

------

After a containment team had secured the area surrounding the abandoned items that Kroker was
selling and began documenting the various items, Harry went back to the apparation depot and
returned to the main Atrium of the Ministry of Magic and made the long circuit back down to the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and more specifically the interrogation room where Kroker
was being held.

When Harry found the appropriate room, he saw Kroker sitting solitarily in the main section
while Hermione stood with a frown in the observation area.

“What's with the face?” Harry asked when he approached her. Hermione sighed and rubbed her
forehead with her hand.

“It's Ron,” she muttered. “The idiot stunned Kroker to stop him.” Harry immediately knew the
meaning of the statement and groaned. One of the rules of being an auror was not to fire spells
around civilians unless in a life threatening situation, and as squad leader, Harry has had to
reprimand Ron more than once for forgetting this rule.

“He's lucky he didn't miss,” Harry grumbled darkly. Suddenly, the door opened to show a
different auror a year junior to Harry and Hermione. “Cromwell? What are you doing here?”

“Umm…” the auror Cromwell hummed, clearly hesitant to continue. “Wilkins said that I was
handling the case now, and that he needed you two at the Department of Mysteries ASAP,” he said.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other in confusion before muttering their thanks and leaving for
the Department of Mysteries.

When they arrived there, they found the Hear Auror waiting for them, tapping his foot
impatiently.

“It's about time you two showed up,” he snapped. “Follow me,” he barked, turning around and
going deeper into the Department of Mysteries. Harry and Hermione obediently followed, their
footsteps echoing in the dark, intimidating hallways.

“Sir, what are we doing here?” Hermione asked.

“Not here, Granger,” Wilkins said cautiously, “this isn't the kind of thing you can talk
about in the open.” They reached a door and Wilkins opened it, ushering Harry and Hermione into the
room that led to all the other departments in the Department of Mysteries. After the room had
stopped spinning, Wilkins approached one door deliberately. Instead of a handle, there was only a
small hole where it should have been. Wilkins drew his wand and slid it into the hole like a key.
“*Expecto Patronum*,” he whispered, and the door flashed white briefly before the locks
holding it closed clicked open. Wilkins extracted his wand and held the door open for them. Beyond
was an area that resembled the office area of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, although
with a darker color scheme. Wilkins led Harry and Hermione to the Head Auror usually sat to see a
man sitting behind the desk and Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt standing beside him.

“Sir,” Harry and Hermione said, respectfully saluting the Minister and former auror.

“At ease,” Shacklebolt said. “I'm sure you're both wondering why you're here,” he
continued, voicing their unasked question. “To answer that, may I introduce to you Robert Farlen,
head of the Magical International Counter-Terrorism Operations division.”

“MICTO for short,” Farlen said, speaking for the first time. “Please, sit,” he invited,
gesturing to the two chairs opposite of him. Unsure of what to make of the situation, Harry and
Hermione both sat down in the indicated chairs. “I'm sure that you're wondering what the
hell's going on, and I'm going to explain it to you. Minister, Auror Wilkins, do you mind
giving us some alone time, please?” Farlen asked politely. Wordlessly, both Shacklebolt and Wilkins
left, closing the door behind them. “Excellent. Now, for a little history lesson.

“Minister Shacklebolt knew that having an ill-prepared army of aurors is one of the myriad of
reasons why the Ministry collapsed during the second reign of Voldemort. He also knew that, try as
they might, an auror force dedicated to protecting the general populace could not effectively
combat an organized terrorist attack. Therefore, one of the first motions that he passed once being
elected permanent minister was the conception of MITCO, an elite counter-terrorism organization
specifically created to locate and eliminate terrorists before they become an unmanageable threat
like Voldemort or Grindewald. Currently, we only have influence in the United Kingdom, Australia
and parts of Canada and the United States, but we are hoping to have worldwide jurisdiction soon.
Any questions?” he asked, looking between Harry and Hermione.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Why did you bring us here?”

“For recruitment,” Farlen replied. “Our agents do not simply pop out of thin air, we have been
recruiting from the auror corps for as long as we have been functional.”

“So why did you pick us?” Harry continued the questioning.

“Why not you?” Farlen responded. “Your past reputations for putting down dark wizards aside, you
two have become two of the best aurors that the Ministry currently has.”

“So why did you just invite us, and not our third squad member, Ronald Weasley?” Harry pressed
on. Farlen sighed and laced his fingers together.

“Ahh yes, Weasley,” he said. “One of the prerequisites for entry into our little organization is
you have to have a certain level of devotion, one that Weasley does not have.” Farlen opened a
drawer and reached in, producing two sheets of parchment and placing them in front of Harry and
Hermione. “Do these look familiar?” The aurors looked down at the papers and saw that they were the
psychiatric evaluations that they had taken. “Mister Weasley chose `no' on his test, while you
chose `yes'. This shows that you have a level to devotion to your country that Mister Weasley
does not have, a devotion that is critical to being a successful part of this organization.” Harry
and Hermione looked at each other silently, not knowing how to respond to this.

“Say we accept…what do we get?” Hermione asked, turning back to Farlen.

“If you accept, then you will gain the security clearance of an Unspeakable, automatically
providing you access to all but the highest security documents and areas. You will be provided with
new and experimental technologies that may or may not be released to the public, as well as a
rather nice increase in pay, to the tune of two hundred thousand galleons a year,” Farlen said
casually. Both Harry and Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the large amount of money offered.
The concept of being paid almost one million pounds a year was a difficult concept to wrap their
minds around. But still, it sounded too good to be true.

“And what's the catch?” Harry asked, shaking his head to free him from his stupor.

“The catch…” Farlen repeated, trailing off. “The catch is, no one can know what it is you do.
The effectiveness of this division relies on its anonymity, so if you accept, you will both sign a
binding magical contract stating that you will not speak of any aspect of this division with anyone
that you do not know is an active part of it, not even your spouses. That means that no one beyond
the Minister himself and your co-workers will have any idea what it is you really do. Also, you
will be required to be ready to prepare for a mission at any time during the day or night. Can you
accept those two terms?” Farlen asked, peering at the two young aurors before him.

Again, Harry and Hermione looked at each other. They couldn't really be expected to lie to
their friends and family, could they? On the other hand….

“I accept,” Hermione said with a tone of confidence. Farlen nodded in acceptance and turned to
Harry, awaiting his answer.

“I accept,” Harry echoed Hermione, although without nearly as much confidence.

“Excellent,” Farlen said, taking the two evaluations off of his desk and replacing them with
contracts and two blood-red quills, a device that Harry was quite familiar with. Figuring that he
might as well get it over with, Harry grabbed the blood quill and quickly scribbled his signature,
ignoring the sting as it etched his name into his flesh, overwriting the dull mantra of “I must not
tell lies” carved into his hand. However, while the cut healed, the red ink remained on the
contract. Hermione grabbed her quill and, bracing herself for the inevitable pain, quickly signed
her name on her contract as well. “Everything seems to be in order,” Farlen said as he rolled up
the two contracts and placed them into his desk. “Welcome to MITCO, Agent Potter, Agent Granger,”
he continued, shaking Harry and Hermione's hands. As one, they all stood up and exited
Farlens' office, where Wilkins escorted them back to the auror offices.

“It's strange,” Harry said as he and Hermione straggled behind Wilkins, “but I feel like I
just signed my soul away back there.”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed. “But, whether we knew it or not, we chose to be a part of this when we
chose `yes' on that evaluation four months ago.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed tiredly. “I guess that's the price of peace,” he said before they broke
into a jog to catch up to their former superior. “Sir, what will we tell Ron and our families about
our…situation?” Harry asked.

“Tell them you got promoted, or reassigned,” Wilkins said as they entered the main auror office,
“anything but the truth.” Without another word, Wilkins returned to his office, leaving Harry and
Hermione to return to their cubicles, where Ron was already sitting.

“Hey, where did you guys go? Cromwell said that you two had a meeting with Wilkins,” Ron said as
his two friends and partners sat down at their desks.

“Oh, it was just some stuff about the Kroker case, nothing important,” Harry said, plastering a
smile to cover up his lie.

It would be the first of many to come.

----

So, what do you think of chapter two?

Don't forget to read and review!

-->



3. Five Years After...
----------------------



I will say this right now: I will not be nice to Ron and Ginny in this fic. If you do not like
Ron or Ginny bashing, please leave now. For the rest of you, we're going to have some fun….

As usual, I don't own Harry Potter.

----

Chapter 3 - Five Years After…

As Harry prepared for another day at MITCO, he could not help but reflect on the past five
years, and how they had changed him.

When Harry and Hermione emptied their desks in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and
claiming that they were being reassigned, Ron was understandably upset. However, after a stern
discussion, otherwise known as Ron and Hermione shouting at each other while Harry did his best to
act as mediator, he finally accepted it. Ron eventually forgot about it, and four months after the
incident, he proposed to Hermione. Ron and Hermione eventually married a week after Harry and Ginny
had.

However, the wedded bliss soon degenerated into a near-constant feud between the newlyweds. In
the beginning, MITCO had little international influence, and the local peace meant that Harry and
Hermione did not have to be called out too often, giving an image of normalcy. Therefore, Harry was
often invited to have drinks at the pub with Ron and other members of the auror force. During these
nights out, Harry also became the primary victim of Ron's rants. Many of the redhead's
tirades focused on either Hermione's work and his frustration that she would not tell him about
it, or the fact that they still had not had sex.

While Harry had no interest in hearing of his friends' sex lives, he could not help but find
this tidbit of information surprising. The next day, he gently asked Hermione about it. The
brunette witch sighed and pulled him into an empty room before talking. Hermione talked about how
she had wanted to cast a contraceptive charm on their wedding night, but Ron had refused, wanting
to start a family right away. This had lead to yet another argument between them, which eventually
prompted Hermione to sleep on the couch, too frustrated to force her new husband out of the
bed.

As time passed, the arguments escalated in frequency and intensity, until Harry was afraid that
they would start throwing hexes at each other. As their marital spats began drawing them into the
battles, Ginny had predictably immediately sided with her brother while Harry, despite his best
efforts to remain neutral, ended up agreeing with Hermione most times, which only prompted
difficulties within his own marriage, as well as drive a wedge into his friendship with Ron. The
fighting eventually culminated in a bitter divorce just over two years after they had married.
After the properties were divided and the final papers signed, Ron applied for reassignment, and
refused to talk to either Harry or Hermione again.

Harry's own marriage was far from perfect either. While the “blissfully in love” part had
lasted longer than Ron and Hermione's, it barely lasted their first year of marriage. At first,
it was about how Harry would not talk to her about his work, no matter how much she insisted,
conveniently forgetting that every time she did bring it up, he told her that he simply could not
talk about it. Later, the arguments became about both Harry's increasingly longer and more
frequent disappearances, as well as his siding with Hermione during his mediation sessions.

As Ron and Hermione's marriage continued to fall apart, Ginny suddenly began insisting on
her and Harry having a child together. However, between their almost constant fights and the fact
that as MITCO extended its influence across the world, he was called out to overseas missions more
often, Harry felt that he was not ready for a child, which added yet another subject of argument to
the flames. By the time that Ron and Hermione had divorced, Ginny and Harry had taken to sleeping
in separate bedrooms, avoiding each other whenever possible.

Harry spared a glance at his bedside clock, which read twenty minutes to nine `o clock. Sighing,
Harry quickly tied his shoes, activated the anonymity charm on his watch and disapparated with a
crack, appearing in the Ministry Atrium. Harry sighed as he slid into the lift with several other
people. One of the men pressed up next to Harry in the crowded lift turned around and looked at
Harry.

“I don't think I've seen you here before,” the random Ministry employee said.

“I've been here a while,” Harry replied, internally smirking. The anonymity charm was still
doing its job perfectly. “I'm just good at not being noticed.” Bidding Harry good day, the man
walked out of the lift, giving Harry some much desired personal space. *I need to learn to go to
work earlier*, Harry thought to himself as he pressed the button to take him down to the
Department of Mysteries. Being careful to make sure that no one was following behind him, Harry
walked into the main entrance chamber of the Department of Mysteries. It was only after Harry had
walked into MITCO headquarters and sat down at his desk did he feel safe enough to deactivate his
anonymity charm.

“Rough morning?” an amused voice asked behind him. Harry turned around to see Hermione standing
behind him, holding out a mug of coffee.

“You could say that,” Harry replied dryly, taking the offered drink and taking a sip. “I need to
learn to come into work earlier; I'm getting tired of getting my personal space invaded every
day.” Hermione chuckled lightly at his grumbling.

“That's why I show up early,” she said, her eyes glittering with mirth.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry grumbled, continually drinking his hot coffee, “not everyone can operate on
twelve-hour shifts like you, Hermione.” Suddenly, a familiar monotonous voice rang over the
intercom.

“Agent Potter, Agent Granger, report to presentation room ASAP,” the female voice rang dully.
Harry sighed and looked down at his half-drunk coffee.

“Couldn't the bastard have at least waited until I had finished my coffee?” Harry grumbled
as he placed a warming charm on his mug before following his friend and unofficial partner to the
presentation room, where Farlen was already waiting for them.

“Oh good, you're here,” Farlen said. Without waiting for a response, he tapped a crystal
sitting on a table with his wand, projecting a three-dimensional image of an older Caucasian man.
“Philippe Savelour, a French-English pureblood born in 1928. When he was nine, his family moved to
England and he attended Hogwarts a year behind Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort,” Farlen recited.
“While never officially a member of Riddle's little schoolyard club, Salevour believed in their
ideals, and considered himself an unofficial member of the pre-Death Eaters. After graduating,
Savelour returned to France. During Voldemort's first reign, he seemed to be getting supplies
from the continent, and Salevour was a suspect. However, investigations in France yielding nothing,
and the British aurors couldn't obtain a warrant to question him here.

“After Voldemort's first fall, Salevour seemed to drop off the face of the Earth, not a
single trace of him remaining.” Farlen waved his wand, which showed a moving image of Salevour
walking through a crowd. “Two days ago, he was sighted by our friends across the pond. Oahu, Hawaii
to be exact, and we suspect that he may be up to something. We need you two to go undercover and
try to figure out why Salevour, now operating under the alias `Phillip Savage,' has shown his
face after all these years. On the one hand, he could just be an old man enjoying the sun and surf.
On the other hand, he could be helping another terrorist regime. Either way, we can't let this
go uninvestigated.” Farlen drew out two small folders from his pocket and waved his wand over them,
enlarging them before handing them to Harry and Hermione. “These are your mission briefings and all
data on the aliases you two will be adopting on this mission. You will report here tomorrow at
oh-five-thirty hours. Good luck to you both,” he finished, saluting the two agents, who returned
the gesture before returning to their desks. As they read their files, Hermione suddenly gasped in
shock.

“Harry, they're making us pose as a married couple!” she gasped. Harry quickly looked in his
own file, naming him “Benjamin Davis”. Indeed, where the marital status was listed, it read:
**Alexandra Davis (alias of Agent Hermione Granger), wife of one year**.

“Umm…” Harry hummed, unsure how to react to that small fact. “At least it's us, right?” he
said weakly. Shrugging, Hermione sat down at her desk to continue reading her file. With a sigh,
Harry repeated her action, both of them spending the remainder of the day studying their most
recent identities.

------

That night, when Harry returned home, he immediately went to his room, conjured a suitcase and
began throwing clothes and other essentials into it haphazardly.

“Going somewhere?” a cool female voice asked behind him. He turned around to see his wife Ginny
standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her eyes sending a piercing glare at him.

“It's for work, so don't even bother asking about it,” Harry said flatly, having gone
through this scenario more times than he remembered.

“Seems like you're in an awful hurry for `work,'” she responded sarcastically, eyeing
the crumpled clothes in his suitcase.

“Ginny, I really don't want to fight tonight, and I've got to get up early, so I'm
just going to rent a room tonight,” Harry said as he zipped up his suitcase and shrunk it, sliding
it into his pocket. “I'll see you when I get back. Love you,” he said as he pecked her on the
cheek and disapparated, leaving her alone in the bedroom.

------

Harry appeared in the Leaky Cauldron pub and inn, which seemed rather quiet tonight.

“Can I help you, Mister Potter?” the hunchbacked owner Tom asked as he wiped the bar.

“I'd like a room, and a wakeup call,” Harry said.

“That'll be seven sickles,” Tom replied, and Harry slid the money over the counter. “When do
you want that wakeup call?” Harry sighed and gritted his teeth briefly before replying.

“Four thirty AM,” Harry muttered. Tom's eyes widened slightly, but nodded anyway, handing
Harry a key. After Harry was told his room number, he entered it, stripped off his clothes and
collapsed onto the bed, intent on gathering as much sleep as possible before his undoubtedly
unwelcome awakening the next morning.

------

After Harry had been woken up and walked into MITCO headquarters muttering various profanities
under his breath, he entered the presentation room with several minutes to spare and Hermione
already waiting. When Farlen showed up, he began listing the various equipments that they would be
using.

“The cauldron heads upstairs have managed to improve the polyjuice potion for a full eight
hours, so you'll be given fifty doses each,” Farlen began, pointing to two small boxes.
“You'll have a cell phone that, in addition to acting as a regular phone, also acts as a wand
holster—” he continued, opening the phone in a way that was not possible for a regular cellular
phone and sliding his wand inside to demonstrate, “…and the screen acts as a secure two-way mirror
to me. It's also programmed so that it only responds to you; anyone else that tries to use
these will find that they don't work.” He set the trick phones down and opened up a silver case
showing several sheets of what looked like wax paper. He reached down and peeled off a nearly
transparent circle off of the paper. “These are fully functioning audio and video surveillance
device. Plant these somewhere, and the footage will be broadcasted onto the screen on the inside of
the case. Your wedding bands have also been enchanted with charisma charms, which will help to get
into Salevour's good graces. And finally, your standard interrogation kit,” he continued,
opening another silver case to show five hypodermic syringes. “Five syringes of sedative mixed with
a bit of veritaserum.” His inventory concluded, he also drew out two airplane tickets with their
aliases printed on them. “You have one hour to get to the airport with the new security measures,
so I suggest you two hurry up. Make me proud, agents,” Farlen concluded, saluting them.

As they left, Harry looked at his ticket.

“Hey, at least it's first class,” he said, impressed.

“You don't really think they'd place us in a twenty-hour flight on coach, do you?”
Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, actually, I do,” Harry responded with a straight face. When they exited the Ministry of
Magic, they hailed a taxi and rode to the airport. Two and a half hours later, they were taking off
towards a far away land of sun, surf and potential terrorists.

Just another day in the office for Harry and Hermione.

----

There you go, chapter three.

Don't forget to read and review!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to bed.

-->



4. Spy Work in Paradise
-----------------------



I tried to update *Savage Innocence*; hit a wall. I tried to update my Transformers fic;
same thing.

On top of it all, my X-Box 360 is experiencing technical difficulties…*again*.

I don't own Harry Potter.

----

Chapter 4 - Spy Work in Paradise

After twenty long, tedious hours on an airplane, and a rather stringent trip through Customs,
Harry and Hermione managed to exit Honolulu airport and climb into a bus taking them to the car
rental agency.

“I never thought that this place would be so paranoid about what you bring over,” Harry said as
he placed his suitcase on a shelf.

“Hawaii has a very delicate ecosystem, Harry,” Hermione admonished as she laid her bag next to
his, “if any foreign species are introduced, it could kill off a lot of native plants and
animals.”

“Oh,” Harry said dumbly as he sat down. Hermione rolled her eyes as she sat down next to her
partner. Several minutes later, they had reached the rental agency and drove away in the vehicle
that had been prearranged for them. Hermione insisted on driving, pointing out Harry's lack of
a driver's license.

“I have a license!” Harry retorted as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“A motorcycle license and a car license are two entirely different things,” Hermione responded
calmly as she started the vehicle and pulled out into the street. Harry sighed and unfolded the
Oahu road map that they had taken from the rental agency, and awkwardly moved it around in the
small vehicle as he tried to find their position.

“Umm…the freeway's on this next left,” Harry said as he found their current position and
tried to plot a route to their hotel. “We need to talk to Farlen about getting a car with GPS next
time,” Harry grumbled as he struggled with the cumbersome map. Hermione laughed as his
complaints.

After sitting in traffic for over an hour and getting lost several times, Harry and Hermione
finally made their way to Waikiki. It took several more wrong turns for them to find the valet
parking for their hotel. After taking their suitcases out of the trunk of their car and giving the
key to the valet, they entered the hotel, and nearly dropped their bags in awe.

“Wicked,” Harry muttered absently, amazed by the enormous glass aquarium before them. The two
agents stood in amazement for a moment, before snapping to their senses and walking to the
reservation desk and receiving the key to their room.

“Oh, one more thing,” Hermione said, turning back to the desk attendant. “I was wondering if you
could tell us the room number of a friend of ours. A man named Phillip Savage?” she asked
innocently, discreetly activating the charm on her wedding band. The clerk hesitated for a moment,
but eventually entered the name into the hotel database.

“Yes, here,” the clerk said, pointing to the computer screen. “He's staying at room 425.
Should I call him?”

“No thanks, we'll surprise him,” Hermione said before thanking the clerk. Returning to
Harry, they walked to the elevator together. While they were in the elevator, Hermione quickly
reached into her suitcase and pulled out the tin containing her surveillance devices. They rode to
the fourth floor and searched for Savelour's room. After looking around to make sure no one was
approaching, Hermione opened the tin and peeled off one device. She carefully applied it onto the
wall directly across from Savelour's room door before they returned to the elevator and rode to
their room, not speaking until they had reached the safety of their room and had cast several
security charms. Hermione set the tin containing her extra surveillance devices and tapped a small
crystal on the inside of the lid with her wand, causing it to project an image of the door.

“All right, Savelour is currently in the level below us,” Hermione said. “One of us is going to
have to watch the image for when he arrives and leaves, and one of us is going to have to tail him
to try and put down his schedule. After we can figure out a pattern for him, one of us will sneak
into his room and plant more bugs into his room, and hopefully then we'll catch something.”

“Great,” Harry said. “So…now what?” he asked.

“Now, we wait,” Hermione said as she pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the projection.
“I'll take first shift,” she added, propping up her chin in her hand.

“I'll go see if there's any coffee,” Harry volunteered, going into the kitchen without
waiting for a response.

Every two hours, Harry and Hermione would take turns watching the surveillance video. However,
since they were only staring at the image of an unmoving door, the duty began dull very quickly.
Fortunately, the room had a radio so they could be occupied without the potentially disastrous
distraction of a television.

At 9:45 at night, Savelour finally returned to his room.

“Finally,” Harry groaned softly, rubbing his eyes. “I thought I'd die from boredom and
exhaustion.” Fifteen minutes later, Harry woke Hermione up for her next shift, and immediately fell
asleep when he flopped onto the bed. Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat down and watched the
projection, although she soon began to feel fatigued.

On an idle whim, Hermione waved her wand over the tin, causing streams of glowing runes to
appear in the air, the intricate “programming” of the charms involved. Hermione made a few simple
changes in the runes before waving her wand, causing them to disappear. Hermione looked at Harry
and rolled her eyes when she saw him spread out over the bed. Carefully taking a pillow from the
bed and finding a spare blanket in the closet, Hermione set the surveillance projector onto a night
stand next to the sofa before she laid down on it and curled up under the blanket, drifting off to
sleep.

A light beeping roused Hermione from her sleep. She looked blearily at her watch, which
cheerfully continued beeping. Shaking the cobwebs from her head, she pulled herself off of the
couch and walked to the bed, shaking Harry awake.

“Five more minutes,” Harry mumbled groggily, brushing away Hermione's hand.

“Wake up, you lazy git. We've got work to do,” Hermione said, shaking him harder. With a
tired groan, Harry rolled out of bed and smoothed out some of the wrinkles in his clothes. “Okay, I
got more sleep than you did, so I'll tail Savelour first,” Hermione said, gathering up a fresh
set of clothes from a drawer. “I reprogrammed the bug to alert you when the door opens, so you
don't have to stare at it unwaveringly all the time,” she continued, grabbing a vial of
polyjuice potion. “I'm going to get freshened up and head down to the lobby. I checked our
phones; we have each other in our phone books, so call me when he leaves,” she said before rushing
into the bathroom. She emerged ten minutes later in her polyjuiced form and dressed in a T-shirt,
shorts and sunglasses, typical tourist fare.

“Wish me luck,” Hermione said as she grabbed her phone and shoved it into her pocket, along with
her keycard and several energy bars.

“Good luck, *Alex*,” Harry said, emphasizing the diminutive form of Hermione's
alias.

“Thank you, *Ben*,” Hermione replied as she exited the door, repeating his action. Hanging
a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob, she walked to the elevator and rode it down to the lobby.
After she exited the lobby, she bought a newspaper and sat down on a bench near the elevator,
waiting for Harry's call.

Harry sat in their hotel room, rapping his fingers on the table while he absently nibbled on an
energy bar, waiting for the door to open. Nearly twenty minutes later, the door opened to reveal
the man that Harry and Hermione had traveled halfway across the world for. Ignoring the annoying
chime that the projector was making, Harry grabbed his phone and dialed Hermione's number.

Hermione's phone buzzed in her pocket, and she dug it out and flipped it open.

“He's gone out and is heading towards you,” Harry said simply.

“Acknowledged,” Hermione said softly before hanging up and shoving the phone back into her
pocket, resuming her reading. A few minutes later, the elevator doors slid open to reveal Savelour,
an unassuming man that seemed in his late fifties stroll out into the main lobby of the hotel, a
cloth bag in his hand. Hermione waited until he was almost out the door before setting down the
paper and walking after him.

Hermione followed Savelour out into the early morning Waikiki streets, when relatively few
people were out, so the streets were fairly open, making it easier for Hermione to track her
target. Savelour did not stop anywhere, but instead headed straight for the beach, his feet
scraping as he walked on the sand-covered pavement.

Hermione watched as Savelour walked up to a small booth and pay for a boogie board. Then he
shuffled through the white sand before stopping at a certain point. Then he reached into his bag
and laid down a large towel before pulling off his shirt and his pants to reveal swim trunks.
Hermione sighed and sat down underneath a palm tree as she watched the older man jump into the
ocean waves. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and dialed Harry's number.

Harry's phone buzzed loudly as it vibrated on the wooden table, and Harry snatched it up,
flipping it open.

“Anything?” Harry asked.

“Hi, baby, how are you?” Hermione replied in an uncharacteristically girlish voice. Harry
blinked a few times in confusion.

“Umm…I'm fine, dear,” he said dumbly, not sure how to respond to it.

“It's in case anyone tries to listen in,” Hermione said softly, speaking in her normal
voice. “I followed Savelour to the beach, and it looks like he's going to be here for a while,
so try bugging his room before the maid shows up.”

“I'm on it,” Harry said, standing up. “Keep safe, and don't get sunburned, okay?”

“Don't worry about a thing, darling,” Hermione said in that sickeningly sweet tone, “I love
you, bye.” Then the line went silent as she ended the call. Harry shuddered at the disgusting voice
that Hermione used. Throwing on a fresh set of clothes and gulping down a vial of polyjuice potion,
Harry grabbed his keycard, his pocket knife and his tin of surveillance devices and snuck out of
his room, heading for the elevator.

Harry stepped off on the fourth floor and, making sure that no one was around, walked over to
Savelour's room. Harry drew out his pocket knife and, making sure that no one was looking, slid
it into the crack between the door and its frame and gently slid it down. Hearing the satisfying
whir that signified that it was unlocked, Harry pushed the handle down and entered the room.

Harry immediately set to work, placing surveillance devices at strategic locations throughout
the room, as well as testing them to be certain that they all functioned well. Harry quickly opened
various drawers to see if there was anything noteworthy hidden in them, but finding nothing, he
closed them back up to hide his actions. Satisfied with his work, Harry carefully snuck out of the
room and took the elevator back to his own room.

At almost six `o clock that night, Savelour entered his hotel room again, soon followed by
Hermione's return. Harry noticed that Hermione's skin was considerably darker than it was
when she left that morning.

“The guy spent all bloody day at the beach,” Hermione grunted in frustration as she kicked away
her flip flops, “my feet are killing me. Did you at least get the bugs in his room?”

“Yep,” Harry said proudly as he showed her the video of the interior of Savelour's room,
where they could hear him ordering room service on the telephone. “Maybe we should order room
service of our own,” Harry said, “have you eaten anything today besides those energy bars you
brought?”

“No,” Hermione admitted sheepishly. Harry shook his head and ordered them dinner while Hermione
continued to watch the video. After eating dinner and continuing to watch for activity from
Savelour, their target eventually went to sleep, and his watchers decided to do the same. “What are
you doing?” Hermione asked when Harry began lifting cushions off of the sofa.

“I figured that since I took the bed last night, you should get it tonight,” Harry said as he
continued lifting cushions. “I figure that this place has to have a fold-out bed in her somewhere.”
Hermione sighed and sat on one side of the bed.

“Oh, just sleep in the bed, Harry,” she groaned. Harry turned around and looked at her
incredulously.

“Umm…” Harry hummed, suddenly feeling feverish. “Are you sure?”

“We're both responsible adults, Harry,” Hermione said, “I think we can both sleep in the
same bed without anything happening.”

“Well…if you insist,” Harry said awkwardly.

“I do, now get in here,” Hermione commanded Harry. He obediently followed his partner's
order and slid onto the other side of the bed, crawling underneath the covers.

“Stop hogging the blankets,” Harry said, pulling on the covers.

“*I'm* hogging?” Hermione asked, pulling back. “*You're* hogging!” For several
minutes, they continued to struggle over the blankets. “I would think that being a married man,
you'd be used to sharing a bed with someone.”

“You'd think, huh?” Harry asked rhetorically. “Unfortunately, most married men don't
sleep in separate beds as their spouses.” Hermione stopped her struggles and turned to face him,
surprised.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“You didn't know?” Harry asked, surprised himself. “I could have sworn I told you,” he
muttered to himself. “Anyway, Ginny and I have been having some…disagreements lately, so we've
taken to sleeping in separate beds.”

“How long?” Hermione demanded.

“About three years now,” Harry said.

“So since…” Hermione said, trailing off at the end.

“Your divorce, yeah,” Harry said neutrally. “Before you go apologizing, it wasn't your
fault,” he said as he turned to face away from her, setting his glasses on a nightstand. “`Night,”
he said as he curled up under the blankets.

“Yeah…`night,” Hermione repeated as she drifted off to sleep.

----

Not a whole lot of action, but it moved the plot along. And besides, I highly doubt that
espionage work is as exciting as James Bond makes it look.

The hotel that they're staying at is the Pacific Beach Hotel. Its main attraction is a
three-story-tall oceanarium.

Concerning my currently-being-rewritten fic *Light's Hope, Death's Hunters*,
I'm in a bit of a dilemma. While I'm the first to admit that I don't like Ron, and
wouldn't be too surprised if he pulled a Wormtail, I'm having a bit of a hard time thinking
of a reason why he would join Voldemort, or how he managed to go undetected for so long (at least a
year before Harry and Hermione reappear). If any of you could throw out any suggestions, that'd
be great, because otherwise I'd have to downgrade Ron from a Death Eater to simply a jerk.

Don't forget to read and review!

-->



5. Here and There
-----------------



I don't own Harry Potter.
----

Chapter 5 - Here and There


Ginny rapped her fingernails on the table impatiently as she sat in the Leaky Cauldron waiting for
her guest to appear. As she waited, her mind drifted to earlier that morning when she visited the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

------

Ginny Flooed into the Ministry of Magic atrium and casually strolled over to the lift and pressed
the button that would take her to the auror department. After the lift gates opened, she walked
over to the secretary and laid her hands on the desk.

“Can I help you, Missus Potter?” the secretary asked politely.

“Yes,” Ginny acknowledged, “I was wondering if you could tell me where my husband is; I've been
trying to contact him, but I can't figure out where he is.” Harry had told her repeatedly that
he could not talk about his work, so she tried to go around him and find out straight from the
source. After all, what could he possibly be doing that would require so much secrecy? The
secretary pulled a large book out from under her desk and skimmed its pages.

“I'm sorry, Missus Potter, but I'm afraid that Auror Potter's whereabouts are
unavailable, and he is listed as incommunicado,” she said with an apologetic shrug. Ginny furrowed
her brow.

“Why? Where is he?” the redhead asked.

“I don't know,” the secretary said, putting the book away. “I don't have that
information.”

“Who would?” Ginny inquired further.

“I believe Head Auror Wilkins would know,” the secretary replied. “Would you like me to see if
he's available?”

“Please,” Ginny said. The secretary scribbled a quick note and waved her wand over the parchment,
which folded itself into a paper airplane and flew off. A few minutes later, another paper airplane
came and landed on the desk, and she opened it before standing up. “You're in luck, he's
available now. If you would please follow me,” the secretary said, leading Ginny to Head Auror
Wilkins' office before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” Wilkins said, and the secretary opened the door, letting herself and Ginny inside the
office. “Thank you, Nancy; that will be all.” Nodding her head in acknowledgement, the secretary
left, closing the door behind her. “Missus Potter, please have a seat,” he said to Ginny, gesturing
towards a chair, which she took. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I was hoping that you could tell me where my husband Harry is,” Ginny said sweetly. She
frowned when Wilkins' polite smile disappeared, replaced by an emotionless mask.

“Missus Potter, the details of your husband's assignments are classified, and his whereabouts
are released strictly on a need-to-know basis,” Wilkins said cordially.

“But I'm his wife, shouldn't I need to know?!” Ginny snapped, her Weasley temper rising.
“What if something happens to him, and he gets hurt, or what if I get hurt, what then?”

“Missus Potter, I would appreciate it if you didn't raise your voice in my office,” Wilkins
said sharply. “And if something does happen that requires his immediate attention here, then we
will contact him and order him to return. But now is not one of those times.” Ginny sighed in
frustration as she rubbed her forehead.

“What about Hermione Granger, is she available?” Ginny asked.

“No, Auror Granger is also out on assignment,” Wilkins replied. “And no, you may not know her
whereabouts either. Now, I have a lot of things that require my attention, so I would like it if
you would leave so I can get back to work,” he dismissed as he retrieved a folder and began reading
it. Sighing in defeat, Ginny stood up and vacated the office, leaving the Ministry of Magic without
another word.

------

Ginny looked up as a blonde wearing radish earrings and a butterbeer bottle cap necklace entered
the pub and sat down at her table.

“Hello Ginny, it's been a while,” Luna said, shaking Ginny's hand. “So, what can I do for
you?” As head reporter of the Quibbler, Luna had more resources than Ginny did, and might be able
to find something.

“Yes, Luna, I was hoping that you could do me a favor,” Ginny said. “Harry's out on another
`mission,'” she continued, sarcastically stressing “mission”, showing that she did not believe
it, “and I can't figure out where the hell he is. I was hoping that you could use your reporter
sources to figure out where he is, or what the hell he's doing.” Luna frowned at her friend.
She had listened to Ginny complain several times over the past five years about Harry's
frequent, sudden and often lengthy disappearances, but this was the first time that Ginny had
actually done something about it besides confront Harry, which would inevitably lead to a loud,
heated argument.

“Ginny, I'm a reporter, not a private investigator,” Luna told the redhead sitting across from
her. “Besides, why would you want me to investigate Harry anyway? Maybe there's a reason why he
won't tell you what he does.”

“Well,” Ginny said hesitantly before looking back and forth suspiciously. Satisfied that no one was
eavesdropping, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I think that Harry might be having an
affair.” Luna merely raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“And how did you come to this conclusion?” she asked, silently doubting the claim. After all, Harry
was one of the most honorable people that she knew, and would be the last person she would suspect
of cheating on their spouse.

“Well, Harry's been disappearing without warning for years, and when she and Ron were married,
I noticed that Hermione would be gone at the same time that Harry would be, and return at the same
time,” Ginny whispered.

“They do work together, Ginny,” Luna pointed out.

“Maybe, but then so did Ron; why didn't he go with them?” Ginny questioned her friend. Luna
remained silent, unable to answer. “And I think they may be paying people off to cover for them,”
Ginny continued. “I went to the DMLE this morning, and no one would tell me where he was, not even
the Head Auror!” Luna resisted the urge to roll her eyes and scoff at the absurdity of Harry paying
off his own boss; and to think that people call her a conspiracy theorist.

“Ginny, I highly doubt that Harry would pay off his boss,” Luna said. “I'm sure that
there's a perfectly rational explanation for their sudden and frequent disappearances.” When
she saw Ginny's ears turn red, Luna added in a placating voice, “But I'll keep an ear to
the ground, and see what turns up.” Ginny's imminent eruption vanished, and she grinned at her
friend.

“Thanks, Luna, you're the best,” she said.

“Remember, I'm only doing this because I'm your friend,” Luna said as she got up and
prepared to leave. “Don't make this a habit, and remember that I may not even be able to find
anything.” Spinning around, Luna disappeared with a crack, leaving Ginny alone at her table.

------

Hermione hummed contentedly as she shifted in her bed. This was the best sleep that she had in
ages. She had a soft breeze on her neck, a comforting warmth wrapped around her, and something long
and stiff poking into her back.

 *Wait a minute*….

Her eyes sprung open as she realized where she was: In a bed in an American hotel room, spooning
against her best friend and partner Harry Potter, with said best friend and partner's erection
poking into her back. Carefully sliding out from under the coverings and Harry's arm as to not
awaken him, she quickly grabbed a fresh set of clothes and jumped into the bathroom to escape the
awkward situation.

Stripping off her clothes, Hermione turned the hot water on and jumped into the shower. As she
cleaned herself, Hermione idly mused to herself that even during her farce of a marriage, she had
never woken up in that position. She also noticed that while the shower was hot enough to fill the
bathroom with steam, she felt strangely cold without Harry's arms around her.

While she was in her shower, Harry slowly stirred into consciousness. As he stretched, he noticed
something poking in his shorts. Oh, bugger, he thought. As he tried to will his stiff manhood down,
his mind drifted to the rather…racy dreams that he had last night, which only provoked his current
problem. While such dreams were nothing new to Harry, Harry noted with shock that last night, they
exclusively involved a certain bushy-haired brunette that was currently in the shower.

 *Get a grip, Potter*, Harry mentally berated himself. *You're here to track down a
potentially very dangerous man with terrorist connections. Now is not the time to be perving over
your best friend*!

She does have a nice body, though, he thought absently, before mentally slapping himself. He
flipped on the surveillance device and began to stare at the projection, thinking about as many
un-arousing thoughts as possible. When Hermione emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later,
fully dressed, they simply looked at each other silently for a moment.

“Umm, right, I'll just be taking my shower now,” Harry said awkwardly as he quickly gathered
some clothes and sidestepped Hermione on the way to the bathroom while she took his place at the
surveillance device. Harry's shower was brief, and Hermione could tell that he had not done a
good job of drying himself off, as the numerous damp spots on his shirt would suggest. “Anything?”
Harry queried as he sat down next to Hermione. Hermione shook her head negatively. Harry shifted
nervously next to his partner. “Listen, Hermione, about this morning -” he began, but she raised
her hand, cutting off his apology.

“You had a perfectly normal male reaction,” Hermione dismissed him. “Right now, we have bigger
things to worry about, so eyes on the screen.” While Harry watched the screen for activity,
Hermione downed a vial of polyjuice potion with a grimace before further altering her features with
various glamour charms.

“He's leaving,” Harry said, and Hermione hastily grabbed her phone and her wand before
running out the door without a word. She hid her wand in her phone and slid it into her pocket
before punching the elevator call button, praising her luck when a door immediately slid open.
Hitting the button to take her down to the lobby, Hermione took several deep, calming breaths. It
was good that she did, because the elevator stopped a few floors down and the doors opened to allow
Savelour entry. The older man paid Hermione no mind as he patiently waited for the elevator doors
to close and lower them to their destination. When the doors opened again, Hermione held the doors
open to allow Savelour to exit first. Muttering his thanks, the man vacated the elevator, and
Hermione counted to five before leaving herself, following the man without making it obvious.

Hermione followed Savelour through the crowded Waiki streets, almost losing him once. He turned
down an alley that the tourists seemed to be ignoring, prompting Hermione to assume that this was
the entrance to the magical world. Her suspicions were confirmed when Savelour drew a wand from his
pocket and transfigured his clothes into wizard robes and tapping the brick wall in a specific
order, opening a passageway. Hermione quickly extracted her wand and transfigured her own clothes
into robes and dashed in before the passageway closed off.

Hermione wove her way through the vendors hawking trinkets and the people that they were selling
to, trying to keep herself from being distracted by the different, yet strangely familiar
environment. *You have a job to do, Granger, you can sight-see later*, Hermione admonished
herself as she continued to follow Savelour.

Savelour turned down a side alley and into a darker part of the marketplace. The gruesome items
on display in the shops and shadiness of the characters inhabiting the area led Hermione to believe
that this was the Hawaiian equivalent of Knockturn Alley, although this area was practically
sparkling compared to its British counterpart.

Savelour entered an unmarked shop, although the various potions and ingredients on display
suggested an apothecary. Hermione casually walked by, and scowled when she saw the **CLOSED**
sign hanging in the window. She surreptitiously checked her watch and made note of the time before
pretending to window shop. Twenty minutes later, Savelour exited the apothecary and returned to the
main area of the marketplace. Savelour briskly walked towards an empty lot where people were
popping in and out of existence, and Hermione picked up the pace, realizing what was about to
happen; but before she could catch up, Savelour disapparated with a crack. Stamping down the urge
to swear out loud, Hermione stepped into the disappearing crowd and apparated back to her and
Harry's hotel room.

“Did you get anything?” Harry asked after Hermione popped into existence in front of him.

“Maybe,” Hermione said as she kicked off her shoes and sat down next to him. “He went into an
apothecary, but the shop owner closed it before I could get in.” Harry sighed as he realized in
implications of her statement.

“What time?” Harry asked flatly as he drew his wand.

“Ten twenty-three,” Hermione answered as she prepared herself for what was to come. She took
several deep, calming breaths as Harry leveled his wand at her.

“Remind me to have a word with R and D when we get home,” Harry grumbled, “*legilimens*!”
Harry tried not to flinch at the massive wave of memories that flooded into his vision. He pushed
aside the irrelevant memories until he found what he was looking for, and dove in.

After shaking off the tingly feeling that ran down his body, Harry looked around to find his
target. After peering over the crowd, he found the past Hermione following Savelour, and gave chase
after them, running through the specter-like figures in the memory.

Harry saw Savelour enter the apothecary just as Hermione described, and walked through the door
while the past Hermione scowled in frustration. Harry saw Savelour talking with the shop owner,
whose dark, greasy hair and long, hooked nose reminded him of the late Severus Snape.

“What can I do for you?” the shop owner asked in a raspy voice. Savelour pulled a piece of paper
out of his pocket and unfolded it before sliding it towards the shop keeper.


“How soon can you get these?” Savelour asked, his voice carrying a light French accent. Harry bent
through Savelour to read the contents of the paper.

**3****0** **g** **dried** **blowfish** **livers**

**0.5 liter fire salamander blood**

**150 ml** **black mamba venom**

Harry raised an eyebrow at the ingredient list. The first and last ingredients could be used for
both benign and malignant purposes, but were nevertheless restricted substances, and obtaining them
in such large amounts would be difficult, and suspicious. However, he could not recall a use for
salamander blood, either muggle or magical.

Apparently, the potions brewer behind the desk was thinking similar thoughts, but kept such
concerns to himself.

“It's possible, but it'll be difficult, and expensive,” he said. “I'll have to do a
lot of legal side-stepping, but I reckon I could have this stuff in a week, week-and-a-half at the
most.”

“That is sufficient,” Savelour conceded. “I trust you will present me with the bill after you
have obtained it?”

“Of course,” the potions brewer said.

“Very well then,” Savelour said, reaching into his pocket and dropping a handful of Galleons
onto the desk, “our business is concluded for now. Good day,” he continued. The greasy man slid the
golden coins into his hand and flicked his wand, unlocking the door and flipping the sign to
**OPEN**, allowing Savelour to step out. Harry waited for several more minutes, but when the
shifty shop keeper did not do anything noteworthy, Harry exited Hermione's memory.

“Well, what did you get?” Hermione immediately pressed. Harry grabbed a pad of paper and a pen
and wrote down the ingredients and appropriate measurements before handing it to Hermione, who read
it with a frown.

“What do you make of that?” Harry asked.

“It's strange,” Hermione said, shaking her head absently. “It's not enough to make
anything more than a crude mixture of toxins, but this may not be the entire ingredient list. Also,
it doesn't say whether the salamander is from a regular or a magical salamander. A non-magical
salamander could be used for a variety of things, but a magical salamander is primarily used for
potions based around fire and burns. It's mostly used in burn salves and fire-proofing
coatings, but can also create some pretty nasty explosions if mixed with the right
ingredients.”

“So we've got a guy ordering large amounts of toxic ingredients and a potentially explosive
substance,” Harry concluded from Hermione's statement. “Whatever this guy's doing here,
it's not to enjoy the sun and surf.” Harry reached over and snatched his cell phone off of the
coffee table and flipped it open. “Keep an eye on the bugs while I call HQ; we may be looking at an
assassination attempt.”

----

The plot thickens…finally, and Ginny's starting to get suspicious.

Don't forget to review.

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6. Return to Sender
-------------------



I don't own Harry Potter.

----

Chapter 6 - Return to Sender

Robert Farlen was filling out paperwork for his department, silently wondering how a division
that technically did not exist could generate so much of it, when his telephone suddenly began
ringing.

“Farlen,” the aged wizard answered professionally.

“This is Potter,” Harry said from half a world away, “we may have a situation.” This caught
Farlen's attention.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, frowning.

“We spotted Savelour placing an order for high quantities of restricted potion ingredients,
including a possibly volatile substance,” Harry explained. “The list seems incomplete, but we have
to assume the worst in this case. Have there been any threats to any important figures lately, or
anyone who's pissed off the wrong people?” he asked.

“I don't recall anything, but I'll check,” Farlen said. “Keep an eye on him; you'll
have to get something on him eventually.”

“Yes sir, Potter out,” Harry said, terminating the connection. Farlen briefly replaced the phone
on its cradle before picking it back up and dialing a number on it.

“This is Farlen, I need a background check on all recorded death threats in the past year; focus
on European and American figures. Also, I need to know if any politicians are making plans to visit
Hawaii,” Farlen ordered the underling that he had contacted. “Pass on any information to agents
Potter and Granger,” he added before hanging up. Farlen had gotten the ball of information rolling;
all he can do now is wait for two of his agents to return, hopefully with no casualties in their
wake.

------

“Sorry, Luna, I've got nothing,” James Parker, one of the people working at the Auror
Registration division said through the Floo, shrugging helplessly. “Their files say that they were
transferred to some sort of security detail, but they don't say to what or where, and I'm
not high enough on the chain of command to find out.” The blonde woman that he was speaking rubbed
her forehead tiredly.

“It's no problem, Jimmy,” Luna dismissed. “Thanks for the help.” She disconnected the Floo
and sighed in frustration. So far, her search for Harry and Hermione's whereabouts on
Ginny's behalf had been fruitless. She had checked the Leaky Cauldron, checked with all of her
various informants, and had even toured around Muggle London, asking around various hotels just in
case Ginny's suspicions proved valid.

Honestly, Luna did not really want to do this; it was no business of hers what Harry and
Hermione did. However, Ginny was also her friend, and she was obligated to at least *try*.

There was still one option that she had yet to explore, an option that grew more likely with
each stonewall that she ran into. However, that would have to wait until tomorrow; Luna had had a
long and exhausting day, and wished for nothing more than to crawl into bed.

------

Harry flipped his cellular phone closed and tossed it onto the coffee desk, sitting down next to
Hermione.

“So, what's the word,” she asked her partner.

“Keep an eye of Savelour and snatch him up when we get something concrete on him,” Harry
responded. Immediately afterwards, they heard a faint buzzing. Savelour reached into his nightstand
and brought out a communication mirror. He activated it, but Harry and Hermione could not see who
Savelour was speaking to.

“Did you get it?” the mysterious figure said, his gruff voice covered with a thick Russian
accent.

“On its way,” Savelour replied, his French accent almost completely absent. “It should be ready
within two weeks.”

“Did anyone follow you?” the Russian man asked.

“Relax, I made certain that I was not followed,” Savelour assured the other man. “The plan will
go as expected.”

“I wish I could share your confidence, Philippe,” the Russian said grimly. “Nevertheless, I
shall see you at our rendezvous next month, yes?”

“You shall,” Savelour confirmed. “Until then, continue to play your part, and don't get
caught,” he added. The Russian man laughed lightly at Savelour.

“Don't worry, I won't,” he assured the Frenchman before terminating the connection.
Savelour snorted to himself and placed the mirror back into the nightstand. Harry and Hermione
shared a significant look; this could be bigger than they originally thought.

------

“You've got nothing?!” Ginny exclaimed, gaping incredulously at the ginger-haired head in
her fireplace. “What do you mean nothing? You're an auror, for Merlin's sakes!”

“I'm only mid-level, Ginny,” her brother Ron countered. “I don't have enough rank for
the classified stuff, and for some reason, I can't access their files beyond the basic stuff.
Ask me again in five years or so, and I may be able to help.” He sighed in exasperation before
continuing. “To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm even involved in this.”

“Because I don't know where the hell my husband - your brother-in-law is! For all I know, he
could be holed up in a hotel somewhere shagging your wife!” Ginny exclaimed hotly.

“*Ex*-wife,” Ron corrected his sister pointedly. “What she does with her life is no longer
my concern. As for Harry…he's your husband, not mine. I admit, things are a bit suspicious,
Merlin knows I've had a few of them myself, but they're both too bloody noble to sleep
around.” Ginny snorted in frustration when she realized that, for once in his life, Ron actually
had a point; Harry's honor would not allow him to cheat on her. Still, she could not help but
have a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind.

“Alright, Ron,” she finally said, “thanks anyway. It was good talking to you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Ron said before he exited the Floo. Ginny flopped down in a chair and sighed
tiredly, silently wondering when everything seemed to go wrong.

------

For the next week, Harry and Hermione had been observing Savelour with the intensity of a hawk,
waiting for him to make a move. He had not made any further communications with the Russian man, or
any other person, since the first time. However, that day was when they believed that
Savelour's order of suspicious substances would arrive, so when Savelour indicated that he was
leaving his room, Harry had already gulped down his polyjuice potion and was heading down to the
lobby.

By the time Harry reached the lobby, Savelour had just exited the elevator, and left the hotel,
the disguised Harry trailing behind him. Savelour toured around the city for over an hour before
entering the magical marketplace, Harry following behind before the gateway closed. Harry cast
several powerful notice-me-not charms on himself, and followed Savelour, falling behind enough so
that it was not obvious. As Savelour turned to enter the side alley, Harry quickly cast a
disillusionment charm on himself and caught up to his mark, who was about to enter the potion store
that he entered two weeks before. Harry quickened his pace, and managed to quietly slide past the
door just as it closed and locked behind him. With careful steps and soft breaths, Harry stalked
over to the desk and spied on the conversation between Savelour and the shopkeeper.

“Do you have what I asked for?” Savelour asked.

“Yep, right here,” the shopkeeper said, reaching under his desk and providing a small carrying
case. “Charmed to not appear on Muggle sensors,” he continued. Savelour unzipped the top and
inspected the three vials containing the controlled substances that he had requested. “I trust that
you find everything to your satisfaction?” Savelour inspected the vial in his hand further before
placing back into the case and resealing it.


“Indeed, it is,” he said, drawing his wand. “However, our deal is about to change.
*Obliviate*,” he said, and the shopkeeper fell to the ground, his memory erased. From his
position, Harry mentally swore to himself; the shopkeeper was a dead end now. With no other option,
Harry quietly followed Savelour as he exited the shop. They wandered around the magical marketplace
for several more hours before returning to the hotel. After Savelour entered his floor, Harry
Apparated from the empty elevator into his and Hermione's room, removing the spells on him.

“What did you get?” Hermione asked her partner.

“Nothing,” Harry said flatly. “Savelour picked up his chemicals and obliviated the shopkeeper,
so we can't interrogate him.” As Harry continued to grumble, Hermione saw Savelour pick up the
phone and begin dialing.

“Shut up, he's making a call,” she said, putting on her headphones. This immediately piqued
Harry's interest and reached down to grab his headphones. They both waited in eager
anticipation as Savelour's call connected.


“Yes, I would like a car to pick me up at the Pacific Beach Hotel tomorrow morning at ten,”
Savelour said, dropping what remained of his French accent. “The airport,” he continued. “Alright,
thank you, good-bye.” He hung up the phone and settled onto his couch, turning on the television.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, and then Harry removed his headphones before
dialing his cellular phone.

“This is agent Harry James Potter, authentication code
Gamma-Bravo-Six-Nine-Four-Three-Two-Seven,” Harry recited into the phone.

“One moment, please,” the automated voice on the other end of the line said. The line was silent
for several seconds before the voice returned. “How can I assist you, Agent Potter?”

“I need a car to the Pacific Beach Hotel at ten hundred hours tomorrow,” Harry said, giving the
address of the hotel.


“Your request is being processed,” the automated voice chimed. “Please hold.” Silence reigned for
several more seconds before the voice returned. “A charcoal 2007 Hyundai Azera will arrive at the
provided address at ten hundred hours tomorrow, Hawaii license plate Valor-Wilco-Charlie
Six-Four-Nine. Have a nice day, Agent.” Harry closed his phone and turned to his partner.

“We've got a car coming tomorrow,” he informed her, taking a seat next to her.

“Great,” Hermione said. They both watched Savelour in silence, but he only watched the
television in boredom. Finally, Hermione broke the silence. “Harry, can I ask you something?”

“You just did, but okay,” Harry said, chuckling at his little joke.

“Why did we never date when we were younger?” she asked, catching him by surprise.

“Umm…why do you ask?” Harry asked, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Just curious,” Hermione said, shrugging. Harry sighed and tried to think of an answer to her
question.

“I guess…it just never occurred to us,” Harry finally admitted. “I mean, you dated Ron, even
married him -” he continued, but was interrupted by her derisive snort.

“Yeah, if you can call those two years of hell marriage,” she scowled. Harry shrugged
helplessly.

“Anyway, you dated him, so I don't know why we didn't date,” he continued. “But we were
both pretty messed up back then; who knows if we would have fared any better than you and Ron back
then if we *did* date.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Hermione sighed.

“For once,” Harry said cheekily, earning him a swat on the arm.

“Prat,” she said, grinning. They continued to watch Savelour, who only continued to watch
television and ordered room service, which incidentally inspired his watchers' hunger before
retiring for the night.

------

The next morning, after drinking their respective potions and applying appropriate disguising
charms, they followed Savelour as he checked out and waited for his chauffeur to arrive. At exactly
ten `o clock, a charcoal Hyundai Azera pulled up and the driver stepped out of the driver's
seat.

“Thanks,” Harry whispered to the man as he and Hermione climbed into the car and waited for
Savelour's car to arrive, which it did several minutes later. After fighting their way through
the midday Waikiki traffic, they followed Savelour to Honolulu airport, where he passed through
customs and walked towards the gate for the flight to England.

Harry and Hermione sat down several seats away from Savelour and both picked up magazines and
pretended to read them, sending frequent inconspicuous glances at their target's direction.
Three hours later, they boarded the plane; by pure coincidence, Savelour's seat was directly
across from Harry and Hermione's seat, so they could keep a constant watch on him. As the plane
took up for the long flight back home, Harry and Hermione sat in their seats, anxiously wondering
what their next move would be.

------

Luna rolled the device in her hand. It seemed like such a waste to use such an important
resource for a fool's errand, but her curiosity eventually conquered her hesitancy. Flipping
open the cellular phone, she began to punch in the appropriate numbers.

“Please enter name and authentication code,” the automated voice toned.

“Agent Luna Cassiopeia Lovegood, authentication code Gamma-Bravo-Four-Six-Nine-Nine-One-Zero,”
Luna recited.

“One moment please.” Luna patiently waited while she was connected. “How can I assist you, Agent
Lovegood?” the voice asked.

“I need the location of two individuals,” Luna said, “Harry James Potter and Hermione Jane
Granger.”

“Your request is being processed, please hold,” the voice said in false cheer. The line was
silent for several seconds before the voice returned. “Agent H. J. Potter and Agent H. J. Granger
are currently away on assignment. Until they have completed their mission, their current positions
are classified. MITCO apologizes for the inconvenience. Have a nice day, Agent.”

“Well, that explains all the secrecy,” Luna said as she flipped her phone closed. “Now what to
tell Ginny?” She considered what she would say for several minutes before grabbing a handful of
Floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace, calling for Ginny.

“Luna, did you find anything?” the redhead asked hopefully. Luna shook her head, and tried not
to cringe at the disappointed look on Ginny's face.

“I'm sorry, Ginny,” Luna said. “I tried every angle I could, but couldn't find anything.
You're just going to have to ask him when he returns; maybe he'll tell you this time.” Of
course, Luna knew that he would not, but it was not her place to say that. Ginny sighed and rubbed
her forehead.

“Well, at least you tried,” Ginny conceded. “Thanks, Luna,” she said before disconnecting the
Floo. Luna sighed and flopped into a chair. She felt guilty or deceiving her friend like that, but
she could not just say that her husband was a member of a secret government group. Even if her
contract allowed it, no one could know who was listening, and the safety of two of her friends, not
to mention two of Great Britain's top agents, outweighed the suspicions of one worried
spouse.

----

And that's chapter eight; hope you enjoyed it. I don't imagine that the end will be too
much longer.

Don't forget to review.

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