Charlie's Angels

Charlie's Angels

Disclaimer: The following is based on the characters, and locations of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series and the popular Charlie's Angels TV series and film. I don't know whom to attribute but whoever it is has done a good job!

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Chapter Two: Graduation Day

This, by rights, should have been the happiest day of her life. She was graduating from the most prestigious Wizarding University in Europe, if not the world, with a First. This had been Hermione's dream, ever since that owl had come swooping through her bedroom window ten years ago with a piece of parchment confirming something that she had suspected for years - that she was special. She was worth more than going to the local comprehensive, or even the Girls' Only Private School in town. She was destined for greater things and if that started out at this - this Hogwarts place then so be it.

She had never really been prepared for how great the things would be though - no matter how many times she had read about performing magic, it had never taken away the thrill of when she had actually opened a keyhole by saying alohomora. No matter how many times she had shuddered and been sick by what Voldemort had done, it had not prepared her for seeing Cedric Diggory's body lying grey and lifeless on the Quidditch pitch. And no matter how many times she had heard whispers about Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, it never really prepared her for meeting him on the Hogwarts Express, finding out he was just as scared and nervous as she was about starting school, and eventually becoming his best friend. That had been Hogwarts. After seven years of battling against the dark forces, she thought she had had enough. She had won a scholarship to Merlin's Academy and for the past three years had been working hard at things she loved - Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration: the intellectual side of magic. It had been brilliant. No one, not her parents, not Ron, no one knew that she only did this in the day-time.

At night, she was one of the Angels, fighting against the Dark Arts, people who wanted to bring Voldemort back. She loved the adrenaline rush she got when she kicked, punched, backflipped, somersaulted. It was something she had never been able to do - until her three-month training programme in the Antarctic had turned her into some sort of superwoman. Now she could kick major Dark-Marked ass, and she wouldn't have revoked her decision for anything - not even to make passing her degree easier. Still, it had been a tough struggle balancing her studies with her work, so today, the epitome of her studying, the day when she would be presented with the Order of Merlin should have been the happiest day of her life.

Except, of course, it wasn't. She hadn't earned this; she had given her presentation a day late, which according to time honoured tradition meant she had failed. She felt as though she were cheating the system and receiving an award she did not deserve. Still, she had done 95% of the course work and passed with flying colours...

Okay, she admitted to herself, she wasn't just feeling guilty about the award - she was feeling guilty about what she was about to do. She had, as Charlie had demanded, sent Harry an owl the week before. Whether he had received it or not was unknown; she had not received a reply. She would - they would - just have to see whether he came to the graduation. She had told Ron that she had invited him - she had not told him why of course as Ron had no idea what his second eldest brother did for a living...

Hermione straightened the graduation robes and brushed the back of her hair through again. She told herself she wanted to look smart for her tutor, the Dean of the Academy and the journalists who would be covering the event. But she knew she was lying. As crazy as it sounded, she wanted to look good, smart, studious and unchanged for him, for the best friend who she had not seen for three and a half years. She wondered what he looked like now - whether he was still skinny and thin-faced or whether he had broadened out a bit. She had changed a hell of a lot - had he? Not in that way she begged. Please, don't let it be in the way Charlie thinks.

"Blue Angel, come in. Repeat, Blue Angel, come in." The sound from her earpiece was piercing. She adjusted it and picked up the tiny microphone that was lying on her dressing table. "Blue Angel here, Roger Bosley."

"Awaiting commands, over."

Hermione sighed, pinned on the microphone and tapped it once with her wand, making it invisible. "See you in a minute, over and out." With one last look in the mirror, she apparated.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"And now, for our one and only Upper First award this year, Miss Hermione Granger!"

Amidst a loud smattering of applause, Hermione walked coolly across the stage. She was careful not to look too eager - not because she was scared of looking like the swot who had rushed forward and pulled the Sorting Hat on her head, but because she didn't want to attract any more attention to herself than was necessary. She shook The Minister's hand firmly as he placed a silk witch's hat on her head and attempted to pin the gold medallion onto her cloak. Hermione tried not to look alarmed as he was fiddling with the same fastening on her cloak that held the microphone. Cornelius Fudge, now an old man, was evidently having some difficulty. Hermione smiled. "Allow me Minister," she said, taking the medallion from him. Fudge looked put out but made no attempt to stop her.

As Hermione left the stage she didn't really hear the clapping starting up again - instead she was wondering whether Fudge still held a grudge against her and Ron for being Harry's so-called side-kicks, and whether he had any idea that the boy he had tried to imprison in St. Mungo's could very well be one of the applauders.

At the reception, Hermione found herself being hassled by a large crowd. Her parents were there of course, looking nervous as always at a Wizarding occasion but still incredibly proud, Professor McGonagall was there with most of the Hogwarts Staff, Arthur and Molly had come with nearly all of their children, and of course Hagrid had popped in, his head almost touching the ceiling.

To be truthful, the only one she was glad to see was Ron, who only grinned at her cheekily while the rest of them surrounded her.

"Hermione! We're so proud of you darling!"

"You've done Hogwarts proud dear... I wish I could say one hundred points to Gryffindor..."

"I never thought when you sat stubbornly in Potions that one day you would be receiving an Order of Merlin, Miss Granger. In fact, I still can't believe it."

"You've done brilliantly, dear - I just wish bloody Lucius Malfoy could see you now, show his bloody pure-blood family a thing or two..."

"Arthur! Really. Hermione, you don't need to prove anything to anyone - I think you've already done that."

"Nicely done Hermione, Charlie's sorry he couldn't be here - had some business thing or other..."

"Well Hermione, this is quite an honour. Of course I would have received my First had I chosen to go into Further Education..."

"Shut it Percy! Granger! We got you a really, really cool graduation present."

"Yeah from Mister. Bathrooms... no, mum, of course it's not a toilet seat... yes of course we've grown up in ten years... hehe, just our idea of a joke."

"Girl power, Hermione! I notice that none of the people who got Firsts were Wizards."

"Oh Hermione, if only Dumbledore could see yeh now..."

Hermione let out a breath. "Thankyou everyone. Thankyou for coming. Thanks." She smiled at them, waiting for them to start drifting away. But they didn't. They wanted to know more, about what she was going to do with her degree, whether she was going to go into lecturing, or the Ministry or, as her mother suggested to everyone's amusement, dentistry.

Eventually Ron rescued her by taking her arm and leading her away from the throng into a quieter corner. Then he smiled and gave her a long hug. She embraced him back, wondering whether ten years ago Ron would ever have envisaged himself being so open in his friendship. Eventually he let her go. "Way to go, Hermione," he said grinning.

"Thanks," she replied. "And thanks for - you know," she indicated at the crowd of her fans who were finally beginning to disperse.

"Your admirers getting to you?" he asked as though she were a famous actress.

She sighed, hoping she wasn't being too melodramatic. "It's not that I don't appreciate them being here... it's just the only people I really wanted here were you ..." She stopped abruptly as if this were what she meant to have said.

"And Harry?" asked Ron gently. "You did say people."

She blushed. "No sign of him yet?"

Ron shook his head. "And to be honest, I don't blame him either. If he were going to come back, why would he do so in a public place? There are Rita Skeeters crawling all over the place - one sign of Harry Potter and The Daily Prophet would have a field day."

Hermione's eyebrows knitted. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. And neither she thought did Charlie... or did he? Was this intentional?

"Enough about me," she said, ignoring the fact that she had not been talking about herself at all. "What about you? How's work?"

"Ah same old, goblins getting furious at the elves, elves passing the buck on to the dwarves, that sort of thing." In his sixth year, Ron had chosen to do Magical Languages because his mother had made him. To his delight he had found a natural talent for the subject, even surpassing Hermione's level. He now worked as a translator for the Ministry, already having moved up through the ranks more than once.

"Press him about the feud, Skye. This could be important." Pretending to take an interest, Hermione asked whether the goblins were blaming the dwarves.

Ron looked surprised but pleased at the question. "Well, it's really a question of just how much blame. The goblins are always ready to blame anyone, as long as it's not another goblin, of course. When it comes to the dwarves, it's an interesting matter... they've had dealings with one Conrad Clinker who..."

"Skye, this is brilliant, keep him on it."

"Conrad Clinker?" asked Hermione, looking quizzical. "That sounds familiar."

"I'm not surprised," replied Ron. "Clinker's often in Witch Weekly. He's a millionaire and was voted Most Eligible Batchelor under 30. He's absolutely loaded - but no-one really knows how he made his fortune which is where the dwarves come in... but I'm really not supposed to talk about that."

"Skye? Can you hear me?" It was Scarlet's voice.

"Yes, yes..." said Hermione. "I can..."

"Good."

"You can what?" asked Ron, looking confused.

"I can see how the two would be connected. What do the goblins reckon? That the dwarves paid for illegal wands?"

Ron looked even more surprised. "Quite good at this Hermione, aren't you?"

She shrugged, although inwardly felt anxious that she was giving her spying skills away. "Skye." Scarlet's voice. "Let him do the talking, don't pretend to know anything about what he's talking about."

"So go on," she urged although she kept looking to her left and right.

"I can't say anymore I'm afraid," apologised Ron.

"Skye." Goldy's voice. "Don't keep looking around you. He'll catch on."

Hermione immediately reverted her attention back to Ron but it was too late.

"Still on the lookout?" he asked gingerly.

"Hmm... oh. Sorry."

He smiled. "It's okay." He led her over to a three-seater sofa and they sat. "It's easier to see the doorway from here."

"Sorry Ron," she said. "I am interested. Go on about Clinker."

"Hermione," he said in a more serious tone, "Why now?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, although she knew exactly what he was talking about. "Why now?" he repeated. "Is it just your graduation or has something else happened? Something that makes you think Harry's in danger?"

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't tell him even if she wanted to - Charlie would be monitoring her every word. Some tough guy she thought bitterly. Spying on your little brother. Lately, she had been feeling very angry with Charlie. He had changed a lot in the past three years - or maybe she had just got to know him better.

"Unless," said Ron, breaking her chain of thought. "Unless this isn't the first letter? Have you written to him before?"

Hermione shook her head. "The only owl I wrote was the one with you - three months after Hogwarts."

"Ah yes," said Ron. "Those three months. Do you realise that was the hardest time in my life? No Harry, and no Hermione either. I don't suppose now you'll tell me where you were...? No, of course not. God, you're almost as bad as he is."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "That's not fair. I told you how long I was going for. I told you when I would be back."

He broke into a smile. "And you were - the very day, the very hour." She smiled back. They were quiet for a few moments. "He's not going to come, is he?" she asked quietly, looking down.

"Who isn't?"

"Very funny Ron," she said looking up at him.

Ron had gone pale. "I didn't say anything," he whispered.

"Yes, you did. You said..." She broke off mid-sentence, as she realised that those two words had not been in Ron's voice. Nor had they come from Ron's direction. Slowly she turned to the empty space on the sofa beside her. She could not see anyone, but the cushion of the sofa was sagging as though someone were sitting on it. "Skye, we can see where you are. Talk to him. Find out if it's Harry." Slowly she turned back to Ron, who was looking as though he had seen Aragog, and continued talking as though it were addressed to him. "Hello," she said, trying to keep a steady voice.

Ron caught on and replied to her "How do we know it's him?"

"Not here." They shivered, now certain that this was a third voice.

"Skye, it's Bosley. Keep getting him to talk - I'm working on a voice decryption."

Hermione smiled and laughed as though Ron had said something incredibly witty. "We're not going to follow some random person. We need some confirmation that it's you." A moment later, she and Ron both shivered. Something or someone had just touched their hands. The invisible figure picked up Hermione's hand first and brought it to its forehead. Hermione tried to look as though she were gesturing at something, and continued looking at Ron, mid-conversation.

"So I declined Fred and George's toilet-seat very politely. I hope they weren't too..." She broke off and gasped. Her smile quickly returned. "It's him," she said happily to Ron.

"How do you know?" he asked. "How can you be sure?"

"Skye. Do you know?"

"We can be sure," she replied. Hermione took one of Ron's hands in hers and very subtly traced the pattern of a scar over his palm with her index finger. "Ah," said Ron. "Well in that case..."

Hermione got up from her seat. "Well I'd best be off then," she smiled. "Thankyou for coming."

Ron started. "Hey wait a minute..."

Hermione began walking away, clutching the invisible robes. She did not want to get Ron involved in this. A lightning shaped scar on an invisible person's forehead did not certify anything. If this figure was Harry, as she believed him to be, then Ron could meet him later. "Follow me, angel," she said into her microphone.

Ron stared at Hermione's back. Angel? She had never called him that before. Still, if she needed backup, then that's what he was there for. In any case, Harry was his best friend too. If, at fourteen years old, he had been the thing Harry would miss most, then surely he had a right to meet him as well. Trying to look as surreptitious as possible, he followed Hermione out of the door.

About twenty metres away at the bar, two waitresses were cleaning glasses and indulging in what seemed to be idle gossip. "So listen - I says I was trying to get my leg Over Bosley, come in," said one of them, with long dark hair down to her waist, tied in a plait.

"And I says was that the signal, right?" continued the other, trying not to touch her bleached-blonde hair.

"And he says?"

"He says, it is!" They both broke into high-pitched laughter and made their way to the back exit.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Where are we going?" asked Hermione. She had got her phone out and was talking into it so that passers-by didn't wonder why she appeared to be talking to herself. She did not get a reply. Instead the person in front of her stopped moving and said very quietly. "Turn around." Hermione looked over her shoulder. Ten metres behind them was Ron. "Oh no," muttered Hermione. She put her phone away. Then, putting on another act for whoever might be spying on them she cried "Ron! There you are, I was just going to call you."

Ron looked very bewildered but hurried to catch up with her. She linked her arm in his. "I know a great place we can go," she continued as she gave the person in front of her a shove. "Hermione," began Ron. "What's going on? I don't understand..."

"Skye, it's Bosley. Order from Charlie: you cannot bring Ron on this mission. Repeat - you cannot bring Ron on this mission."

Hermione said quietly to Ron, "I would have preferred you not to come."

Ron stared at her. "Hermione, be sensible. You can't go chasing some random person..." He broke off realising that the random person could probably hear him. "Some random person," he continued, now whispering, "By yourself."

I'm not by myself, thought Hermione indignantly, as the two of them followed the invisible figure in front of them.

"Skye, we're here. Don't worry babe, we've got you covered."

"You and Ron. Don't worry Bosley. And the random invisible guy."

They were approaching one of the Underground Stations. "You better not be taking me on the tube, mister," said Hermione addressing Ron.

"No," came the answer.

"Skye, do not let him take you on the Underground. Repeat: do not let him take you on the Underground. He could have people waiting on the platform."

Hermione was an odd mix of emotions. If this were Harry, then she trusted him not to harm her or Ron. If this were someone else, she probably could hold him off and Scarlet and Goldy were nearby for back-up... but that would mean exposing her strength to Ron and that could land him in serious danger.

They were descending the stairs now and approaching one of the platforms. It didn't take Hermione long to realise that they were on the wrong side of the platform - all the passengers were waiting on the opposite side and a train was approaching. She noticed Scarlet and Goldy were standing amongst the crowd, separately.

"Ask him if you're getting the tube, Skye."

She looked up at Ron, but clenched the invisible robes more tightly. "Are we getting the tube?"

There was no answer.

"Skye, get out now. Take Ron and leave by the exit you came in."

The train came whizzing by and Hermione was cut off from seeing Scarlet and Goldy.

"Skye, come in. Repeat: Skye, come in."

The invisible man reached back and took hold of Hermione's free hand. He dragged her and Ron forward into a wall and by the time the train had passed they were gone.

The two remaining passengers on the opposite platform were gobsmacked. "Damnit!" yelled Parvati, kicking the wall with her foot. "Angels come in. Repeat: Angels come in."

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a glance. "This is Goldy," sighed Lavender. "Bosley, we lost them."