Lies and Secrets

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.

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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.

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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.

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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!

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Sorry guys, no witty comment this time.

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

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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.

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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.

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So, what do you think of chapter two?

Don't forget to read and review!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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!

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I don't own Harry Potter.
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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.

30 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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I don't own Harry Potter.

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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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