Agent Granger, CIA

CHAPTER II

"Judas"

"Wake up you two!" a menacing bulk of fat hollered through a Hitler mustache.

Jordan was the first to stir, rolling his sofa-imprinted face around; brushing against something squishy and rather fluffy. In response, Hermione bounced up like a dog who got stepped on the tail and purposefully slapped the bony arm of her offender, which sent him flying off the chair and onto the green carpet with an unappealing thud.

"That's right," the intruder continued, now crossing his hairy arms authoritatively. "This co-ed sleepover's over!"

Hermione lifted her head, unaware that she was being watched, and instantly displayed a wonderful shade of burgundy. "Hi boss," she squeaked feebly, brushing away thin strands of hair that was statically stuck to her burning face.

Jordan inclined his upper body slowly onto his elbows and scratched his aching head, which generated the loud thump. "What...What's going on?" he yawned ignorantly, providing Hermione an innocent display.

She glared at him and nodded her head forward, prompting him to take a look. Jordan immediately got to his feet and straightened out his clothes.

"Mr. Harrison, this isn't what it looks like--" he began quickly, pointing at Hermione and himself.

"Quiet!" the chief demanded. He swung his squinty eyes from Jordan to Hermione and shook his balding head. After about a minute of uncomfortable and nervous silence, he burst out into loud fits of laughter like a maniac. "Like I care that you two are involved!" he howled.

"We're not going out," Hermione corrected embarrassedly, tucking her hands in between her lap.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," their boss waved, still shaking from cackling. "You should have seen the two of ya'lls faces! Application fee for CIA: 30 dollars. New clothes for new job: $200. Hermione and Alex's busted expressions: Priceless!" He continued to snort as he calmed down.

Hermione and Jordan were in no way amused. Rolling his precious blue eyes, Jordan turned away from Hermione and huffed somewhat angrily. She frowned and wondered what was up with him.

"Anyway," Harrison resumed, done charming himself. "Here are your belongings from the hospital. You forgot to take it when you left yesterday." He handed a thick pile of clothing to Hermione and grinned at her annoyed expression.

"Thanks," she muttered dully.

"Alright then kiddos. Have a good day!" he chuckled quietly as he disappeared behind the door.

"That man is unbearable!" Jordan spat after he was certain the CEO couldn't hear. His hands were gripping his firm hips like tongs to a beaker.

"That's just him. At least he wasn't mad," Hermione replied calmly, fumbling through the stack.

Jordan huffed again and shook his bed head. He was obviously upset about something other than their obnoxious boss, but she didn't know what. An unfamiliar white jacket quickly took her mind off Jordan, and she cautiously alienated it from the others. Staring blankly at the jacket, she vaguely remembered that Drake had put it on her the night before.

"Here," she directed towards Jordan, throwing him the piece of evidence. "That belongs to the suspect."

Jordan caught the jacket by the sleeve and yanked it up. A little glass bottle then tumbled out of the silky inner pocket and deftly crashed onto the soft carpet. Hermione, having noticed the tiny object from the corner of her eye, crawled over and picked it up, examining it. The pale orange content inside the tube almost appeared to sparkle; she shook it and stood up.

"This fell out."

Jordan took the vial from her hand and held it against the florescent light. "It's a potion," he stated rather mystified.

"I know," Hermione responded, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her tailored hospital PJS.

"What's a Muggle doing with a potion?"

"Who said he's a Muggle?"

Jordan raised his eyebrows and gave her a questioning expression.

"He took me through a stroll in his garden last night. There were a variety of magical plants there, and most of them are not of the innocent kind."

Alex frowned and spun the bottle in his sweaty palm. "This is the first time we've had to deal with potions," he whispered softly with mild concern. Hermione nodded and picked up the coat that Jordan had thrown carelessly on her desk. She searched the pockets and was rewarded with a small blue envelope hidden where the potion was originally kept. She uncovered a hastily torn piece of parchment and read aloud:

"Mr. Cardon, take this potion with this note in hand.

Meet me at Borgin and Burkes at 10 AM sharp, don't be late."

"Who do you think wrote it?" she asked curiously, tucking the note back inside its home.

"Don't know, but I'll check it out," he offered, glancing at his digital watch.

"What time is it?"

"5 'til. I'll go and scout the area. You should run a test on that potion; find out what it is," Jordan suggested as he pulled on his black winter coat. "Meet you back here in 20 minutes."

He disapparated before Hermione could begin to object. She sighed and obediently headed for the laboratory with potion in hand.

**

"Welcome, welcome," softly greeted a raspy voice from behind the gloomy counter of Borgin & Burkes. Jordan walked in on full alert and discreetly memorized every detail in the store as he passed by. There were two men in the store; one was hidden under a black hood and cloak while the other was watching him with his cold gray eyes.

Jordan didn't look directly at the man, but his hair beamed like the sun inside this dark pit, and he was sure it could have been no one else but Draco Malfoy. Indeed, it had been around seven years since he last saw him, but it's hard to forget such an unpleasant being.

Stopping at a random display, Jordan lightly brushed his hand across several dusty artifacts. Sticky cobwebs at once glued themselves onto his moist fingers, forcing him to scrape them off on the edge of the rough wooden table. He watched Malfoy, who was constantly checking the time, the whole time through a pair of slanted eyes. Surprisingly, Draco had grown to be more like his mother than his father. The only three things he and Lucius had in common now was blonde hair, tall stature, and vacant eyes. If he didn't open his mouth he could have very well passed off as a handsome gentleman. His soft hair was ear length and neatly combed out of his face. As usual, his skin was pale as milk but equally rich. Dressed in only the finest, he stood with an air of royalty and never once dipped his chin. He glanced at his wrist one last time before sighing disappointedly and stalking out the door. Mr. Borgin said good-bye, but Malfoy paid no attention.

Jordan followed him outside thirty seconds later, him too ignoring Mr. Borgin. He was but three steps into the bitter cold when a firm grip caught him by the collar of his coat and shoved him roughly onto the soiled brick walls of Knockturn Alley.

"Who are you? Why are you following me?" Draco hissed in a dangerously low tone. Although Malfoy was only using his left forearm, Jordan still couldn't move under the pressure.

"I'm not following you," he snarled in return, his breath materialized in the frosty winter air.

Draco glared at him with deadly eyes and reluctantly released him. Jordan made an attempt to move forward, but Draco rammed his chest into him and pounded him back against the wall.

"Don't move," he growled, putting his fingertips over Jordan's heart. "I didn't say I believed you. You just looked like you were going to suffocate."

Jordan flushed pink and averted his gaze slightly sideways. The freezing weather was starting to numb his nose and dry up his cheeks, he clenched his teeth together to prevent them from chattering.

"Hey Draco!" called a man from the other end of the busy alley. Draco wheeled his head around and raised a friendly arm of salutation. Jordan looked over his shoulder and gasped as he recognized the tall figure coming their way.

It was Ronald Weasley, all grown up. Red hair sticking everywhere on top of his high head, he was completely different from his Hogwarts years. He was a mess, but his expensive clothes compensated. His pink face bore a different expression than that of his younger days; it seemed not as innocent or kind.

"Who you got there?" he asked through uncontrollable shivers.

Draco shook his head and replied casually, "No one you need to know."

Ron nodded, Jordan didn't know if he was nodding at him or what Draco had said. But his chest suddenly felt the delayed pain of Draco's body slam, and he winced at the two towering men.

"Can I go?" he requested timidly. Draco scanned him one more time with his icy pupils and curtly nodded his head. Jordan disapparated at once, not giving him the chance to tell him twice.

**

"What happened to you?" Hermione flustered as Jordan came crashing into sight, gripping his rib cage.

"Damn Malfoy and his rock hard pecs," he cursed under his breath.

"What?" Hermione said, rather confused. She laid a hand on his bent over body and gently rubbed his smooth back. "Let me see," she instructed, pulling him up by the shoulder with one arm. She began unbuttoning his blue and white flannel shirt, but he quickly brushed her hands aside, his ears burning bright red.

"I'm fine," he stammered as he quickly reached to button up his clothing.

"Don't be silly," Hermione scolded, slapping his hands back down. She opened his shirt halfway and gasped at how red his chest was. "Who did this?" she whispered affectionately as she pressed a warm hand over the wound. Jordan flinched at her gentle touch and gazed in her soft chocolate eyes.

The creaky door then burst open, slaughtering the would be romantic moment, and Mr. Harrison came barging in. "Look at you two!" he adored very disturbingly. "Always at it!"

Hermione blushed and pulled her hand back as if Jordan had become a hot stove. He quickly covered his bare chest in return.

"Sorry I keep interrupting you two love birds," Mr. Harrison joked merrily. "But here's a new case I need you to start on ASAP." He threw a royal blue folder onto Hermione's desk and grinned mischievously before he left.

Hermione picked up the thick file and sighed. "Ten thirty on a Saturday morning. He better give us a raise."

**

Jordan shut his eyes tiredly and removed his reading glasses as he turned off his laptop. Hermione had gone to finish the test on the potion and was due back any minute now. He checked the time and patted his tummy consolingly; it was 1:30 and they still hadn't eaten lunch. He was about to get up when a dark stranger apparated into the room.

"Sit," the intruder commanded, waving his hand downward. Jordan felt an invisible force push him back into his seat. The mysterious man removed his hood and revealed himself.

"Malfoy," Jordan whispered heatedly, his hate intensified by the information he had just dug up.

"Don't think I forgot about you my dear boy," he responded loudly, drawing out the wand he held under his sleeve.

"How'd you follow me here?"

"Ever heard of Sectators?"

"The trackers? Sectators are born, not made. And they're extremely rare, more so than Metamorphmagus. I seriously doubt you're one, Malfoy."

Draco laughed sinisterly. "You better believe it. How else would I know you were here? And where exactly is this?" he pondered aloud, spinning his head to inspect the area.

Jordan scoffed. "What makes you think I'd tell you crap?"

"You'll tell me if you want to see another day--" threatened Draco with his wand, sneering crazily.

At that time, Hermione entered the room, unaware of Draco, and began talking.

"You will not believe what I found out," she exclaimed excitedly. "The Po--"

Draco took a quick glimpse of her, but if he had recognized who she was he showed no sign of it. Hermione on the other hand knew very well who the unwelcome man standing in her office was, and if she had been able to use magic, she would have cursed his butt back to where he came from by now.

"Who's that?" he asked Jordan with interest, motioning towards Hermione.

Jordan went blank. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't stupid enough to tell him the truth, but he also couldn't think of a smart reply at that moment.

"Maybe this will refresh your memory," she scowled as her fist met his all-too-perfect face. He cried out as his head jerked back in pain and grabbed his sour nose immediately.

"Bloody hell! Granger!" he roared instinctively. "Filthy Mudblood haven't changed at all, have you?"

Hermione smirked as Draco tried to stop his nose from bleeding out. He panted vehemently and shot her a look so cold it could have froze the sun. But surprisingly, he didn't do anything physical in return; he didn't run, he didn't hit her back, and he didn't start a cussing rampage. He just stood there, glaring at his arch-nemesis with no particular feeling. Jordan felt it was time for him to intervene before they created holes in each other's head with their vicious glares.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" he asked gentler this time.

With a nasal voice, Draco spoke quietly, "Wanted to find out why you were following me. I already told you that."

"And I told you that I wasn't following you."

Draco hadn't moved his eyes off Hermione, and she the same. They were so trapped in their own little world of old memories and hatred that Jordan seemed to just disappear. Many a times, Draco had wondered what he would do if he ran into Hermione again. Hermione on the other hand hoped that she'd never have to worry about this day. But here they were, unexpectedly pitted against each other after a decade, and their hearts told them to hate and despise each other, but their minds were cluttered with confusion.

"Hello?" Jordan sang irritated. Neither Hermione nor Draco was paying any attention to him. It was as if he was back to being invisible. He sighed and crossed his arms childishly, unable to do anything else.

Hermione broke the eye contact. Seeing someone she had to deal with everyday back then was too much pain for her right now. It was like reliving the day Harry had died and the day Ron said good-bye and the day Ron became a friend of Draco's, having no where else to turn. Tears burned in the pockets of her eyes, but she refused to let them go.

"Granger," Draco said carefully. "Next time we meet, keep your disgusting paws off of me." And he disapparated without another word.

"Are you back in reality now?" asked Jordan, who was currently extremely annoyed and irritated with Hermione for completely ignoring him back there. She turned her tear stained face towards him and collapsed into his arms, crying freely on his shoulder. Jordan, shocked to see Hermione cry, or even act like a girl for the first time they've met, uncertainly wrapped his arms around her. That caused her to sob even louder. He sighed and buried his face in her soft hair and kissed her gently on the head.

**

"Ron," shouted Draco as he strode into their mansion. He heard his voice echo through the wide and glamorous halls, and a minute later Ron responded, pounding down the stairs.

"What's up?" he asked, with a silver spoon in his mouth and a pint of Bertie Bott's every flavor ice-cream in his hand.

"Hey! That's MY ice-cream," Draco complained, pointing at Ron. "Get your own bloody ice cream next time!"

Ron grinned and hopped down the remaining wooden steps. Receiving him, Draco put a hand behind his shoulder and lightly guided him towards the grand living room.

"You might want to sit down for this," he told him quietly. Ron frowned, he hated receiving bad news.

After they were both comfortably seated and Ron had put down his food, Draco cleared his throat.

"I found Hermione Granger," he began, unsure if this was the wise thing to do. He glanced over at Ron to see how he was taking it. The phrase 'not very well' barely described his pale and rigid features. Draco scrunched up his forehead and made to pat him on the back, but Ron turned before contact and stared into the translucent fire dancing in the fireplace.

"It's too, too soon," he stammered, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"We're close Ron. Maybe we found her now for a reason."

"No. It's too soon Draco. I can't see her now." He shook his head violently and tried to stand, but his knees failed him. "I don't want to see her...yet," he restated, plunging back into his arm chair.

Draco sighed concernedly, watching as Ron fell apart. "She's doing fine you know. Still her painful fiery old self. Hell, she even socked me one in the face within the ten minutes that we were together!"

Ron smiled a bit, remembering their old days when Harry was still alive. "Does she have...someone?"

A dark shadow came across Draco's face. "I don't know. There's this guy, but I don't think she's into him."

His words brought a great wave of relief to Ron, who suddenly felt that he could breathe easier. "Draco?"

Draco raised his eyebrows, allowing him to continue.

"Would you do me a huge favor? Draco, I need you to--"

"Consider it done," Draco replied confidently, slapping his hands on his knees.

"Draco, I need you to watch over Hermione for now. Make sure she doesn't get involved with anyone...we're so close to it...I can feel it. I don't want to lose her in this last measure."

"Watch over her?" Draco repeated with disbelief, widening his eyes to the size of sick ping-pong balls.

"Just keep an eye on her. You're a Sectator, tap into her apparation lines so you can follow where she goes if she should disappear. Just make sure she's safe until I find the cure."

"This is a lot to ask Ron. You know I hate her!"

"If you hated her you would have done something else today," Ron told him with a slight grin. "Perhaps all these years apart did you two some good. I know for sure you didn't immediately feel contempt for her the moment you laid eyes on her."

"That's cause I didn't bloody well know who she was!" Draco cried, frustrated that Ron was right.

"She could have changed too you know..."

"She can't change the fact that she's a repulsive little MUDBLOOD!"

"DON'T SAY THAT WORD IN MY PRESENCE!" Ron hollered back, now standing tall with fists clenched tightly.

"Sorry," Draco muttered under his breath, unheard like all of his other apologies. Ron calmed down a bit and took his seat.

"Just do this for me Draco. You still owe me," Ron reminded him with innocent eyes.

"Fine, fine. Whatever. Don't expect me to end up buddy-buddy with her though."

**

It was three before Hermione could return to work again. Jordan managed to soothe and convince her that everything was alright. She then set herself straight to work, for it seemed like the perfect escape from her mind. They both sat quietly for about an hour, each scribbling notes and researching at their own side of the room. Jordan finally broke the silence.

"So...you said something about the potion earlier?" he tried. Hermione looked up from her desk, blank faced; she heard him talk, but obviously missed what he said.

"The potion," he repeated, "did you find anything?"

"Oh, yeah," she answered, pulling a sheet of paper from a manila folder. "It's a new potion, I'm not quite sure what it does yet, but I can take a pretty good stab at it once I finish the last test."

Jordan got up and walked over to her desk. "What's in it?"

"That's the fun part. Whoever made this potion is either filthy rich or a very talented criminal. I found 20kt diamond dust inside the potion mixed with white rose petals and a touch of sneezewort. All the ingredients are so finely grounded that it takes a sizable amount of each to create one portion this large. I'm guessing about $100,000 total each vial."

Jordan let out a low whistle, taking her results into his hand. "Well, I can tell you who's financing this project, but I sure as hell can't tell you why..."

"I'm guessing it's used to wipe out someone's memory...Any reason Malfoy would need that?"

"Not that I know of. Well, Ton..," Jordan quickly cut himself off and corrected his error, "Cardon's memory to be specific right?"

Hermione nodded. "Is he still in our custody?"

"Until five."

**

"What do mean you let him go?!" Jordan screamed at the guard sitting in cold deserted the camera room.

"A man came in with a signed release form!"

"Only my signature or Miss Granger's signature could have let him free. And neither of us gave our John Hancocks for sure!"

"This says otherwise," the guard replied, displaying a yellow carbon copy for him to see.

"I never signed that," stated Jordan in a shocked manner.

"But that matches your signature, so I had no way of telling otherwise. I had to let the prisoner go."

"Well can you at least tell me who came for him?"

"I don't really remember. I think he was short and rather plump. Cheery fellow he is."

With a pissed growl, Jordan snatched the folded document from the guard and stormed out of the ward, leaving Hermione to chase after him.

**

"Okay, so we lost the suspect, but we still have plenty to dig into," Hermione reassured him.

He exhaled loudly and unbuttoned his collar.

"Oh shit," he muttered as a patient blue file caught his eye. "Harrison is going to fry us if we don't get this case cracked!"

Hermione, also having forgotten about their new assignment, groaned. "What's it about?"

Jordan flipped open the folder and quickly skimmed through it. His baby blue eyes seemed to move diagonally across the page and then he closed it.

"Nick Frome, a retired convict who always bought his way out of prison has returned. His last misdemeanor involved selling fraudulent Nimbus brooms for outrageous amounts. Whitehorn tracked him down with his connections after someone filed a lawsuit and busted him."

"So when exactly did Whitehorn become our secret spy again?" Hermione wondered, distrusting him.

"Actually, he's only helped us with two cases, both of which he stuck his neck out for because in some way it had to do with him..."

"Okay...I see how the first case might have ticked him off, but how's the second one related?! And how did he even know about it?"

"He's a person in high places; hears things he shouldn't. He was going to the party anyway, so he volunteered to be of service; which may I remind you, was to your benefit. He's been very useful to us. Plus, he's only doing this so that later, should he dig himself a hole too deep to climb out of, he'll have the CIA to back him up."

Hermione scoffed disgustedly. "Pig. Well, go on, what's up with Frome now?"

"The problem this time around is that we don't have enough information or evidence to convict him. The CIA believes that he is smuggling in drugs and expensive jewelry from somewhere, but doesn't know where, how, or from who. His partner in crime is the most skilled and experienced of all his previous ones. If we catch them, they'll more than likely be locked up for good. Something's supposed to go down tonight at an old garage, Frome's the dealer, and they want us to check it out."

"Great!" Hermione commented sarcastically to Jordan's monotone report. "We know nothing, and they expect us to catch him."

"Well, we do get cool gadgets this time," he replied with a wry smile, holding up a picture of something that resembled a tracking device. Hermione flashed him a funny look.

"Since when have we used their electronics over wands?" she laughed.

"Since you can't use magic until tomorrow."

"Alex!" she whined, catching his drift. "You do the dirty work this time. Guys are usually the ones who go undercover anyway! I'll stay behind and work on the other case."

"Oh yeah, about that. I don't think there's much left to do."

"How so?"

"Well, I found out that the Cardon Mansion is actually under Malfoy's name and when I ran his fingerprint and photo through the Ministry records, I pulled up identification too."

"WHAT?" Hermione shouted angrily. "And you didn't tell me this until now?!"

"Well, there really wasn't a right time to tell you was there? I found out while you were testing the potion, and when you came back, Draco was here, and then the whole fiasco. I even forgot about it for a while myself."

"So if we did get to question Cardon, you would have known who he really was?"

Jordan nodded humbly, not meeting Hermione's flaming eyes.

"Who is he then?"

"Do you remember Tonks? Was part of the Order? Died trying to protect Harry against Voldemort?"

Hermione winced, but her breakdown earlier covered her need to mourn now.

"Drake Cardon is really Nathaniel Tonks, Tonk's little brother. He was abandoned at birth and grew up at an orphanage. No one but Andromeda and Ted knew of his being; his parents didn't want him to end up like his sister, mistreated and ignored by the Black family."

"So he's Draco's cousin?"

"Yup. Ergo the initials D.C., creative bunch aren't they?" he laughed dryly. "Tonks found him before the war; he met his whole family, but lost his only real one."

"That's sad..."

They both sighed simultaneously. "I actually took a blood sample from him before I locked him up. If you want to run and examine that, feel free."

"So you're going to do the case this time?" she asked hopefully.

Jordan chuckled under his breath and disapparated.

**

Hermione took the plastic tube of blood provided by Jordan and began filling out an information sheet. After the paper work was over with, she bagged the evidence and retrieved the potion from her drawer. Then behind her she heard a whoosh, as if someone had just apparated in, but when she turned around, no one was there. She investigated the room carefully and grabbed her keys. Whoever was in there was going to have to stay overnight or risk being caught while they disapparated. She slipped out the door, turning off the lights, and locked it from outside.

She let out a relieved sigh, for some reason she was really scared in there, and her heart beat faster than she could last remember. She turned around and a pair of glistening eyes ran into her own, she screamed, taken by surprise. Draco Malfoy was inches away from her face with a murderous glare etched into his expression.

"What you got there Granger?" he questioned sinisterly, eyeing at the bag of evidence.

"Nothing that concerns you. You know, I thought I had cooties Malfoy, aren't you afraid me breathing on you is going to give you some Mudblood disease?"

"Yes, but I'm not joking now," he continued, his eyes never flinching or blinking, just constantly staring into hers. "Give me the contents in the bag."

"Screw you Malfoy, let me go."

Draco unhesitantly wrapped a claw-like hand around her tiny neck and pressed her against the office door. "I've killed before you know. But nothing satisfies me more than the death of a Mudblood on my hands." He increased the pressure on her trachea and she began to choke. "Hand over the contents in your hand Granger. Now."

Hermione gathered as much saliva as she could and in one loud gawk, she spat it onto Draco's face.

"AUGH!" cried Draco disgustedly, releasing Hermione to wipe off her slobber that was now dripping all over his face. As much as she would have liked to stay and laugh, Hermione ditched the chance to deride Malfoy and began running for her life. Her throat was dry and still felt like someone had stuck a finger in there, but her fear of consequences kept her going as fast as ever. She had forgotten one thing though: he could apparate and she couldn't. Without warning, he flashed in front of her and slapped her angrily onto the ground. She gasped as his cold hand hit her and the two bags flew out of her grip. Malfoy then turned his attention to what he was originally seeking and climbed over Hermione to pick it up. With a last sneer at the girl laying powerless on the ground, he tauntingly shook the two bottles in her face and disapparated.

**

"What are those?" Ron asked as Draco reappeared in the living room of Malfoy Mansion. Draco jumped, unaware that Ron was waiting for his return.

"What, these?" he asked innocently, shaking the bags then quickly stuffing them behind his back. "Granger gave them to me. Said maybe I could help."

"Oh really?" Ron danced with his voice, aware that Draco was lying. "Help her with what exactly?"

"Just stuff," Malfoy shrugged. "Anyway, I'm tired...I'm going to go upstairs okay?"

"Huh," Ron replied detachedly. Draco gave him a confident smile before disappearing into the foyer.

"What is he up to now?" he whispered to himself, his eyes absently following Draco out.

**

A screeching ominous wind greeted Jordan as he materialized in the neighborhood of the crime scene. His only companions on the ghoulish street corners of the garage were silence and anxiety. He numbly felt for his wand and tapped himself on the back whispering, "Veterate!"

He and Hermione had invented the Veterator spell years ago; it helped trick the criminals into selling them their goods without actually having to first gain their trust through time. The Veterator spell made the castor look like whoever was expected to be seen, for example, if an Auror was going to spy on a Death Eater, he could cast the spell on himself and walk into the same room as the enemy and not be noticed because the Death Eater would see him as someone he'd expect to see, not the Auror. The only flaw in this was that the castor wouldn't know who he had turned into, so he'd have to take a lucky guess and hope for the best.

Cautiously, he slid the rusty compartment door ajar and silently squeezed himself inside. Bright lights, like those of a football game, took him by surprise and blinded him. His arms shot up protectively and covered his face from direct exposure.

"You could have knocked you know," laughed Frome from the deep shadows within. Jordan repeatedly blinked his eyes, in vain attempts to adjust to the sudden brightness. He waited for Nick to say more, hoping it'd help identify who he appeared to be. "You're early. You're never early," the convict continued, and with a snap of his oily fingers the bulbs dimmed and diminished.

"I-I thought I'd just get this over with tonight," Jordan confessed, now blinded by the darkness. He could hear Frome pacing around; those expensive leather boots of his made a squish-squash sound every time it hit the ground.

"You want to get this over with?" he echoed skeptically, "I should be the one ready to run out the door; after what you did during our last direct negotiation." Oblivious to what Frome was talking about, Jordan remained silent, still searching the dark area for hints of even an outline of the man.

"You're awfully quiet today," Nick commented softly, drawing closer to Jordan. "Usually it takes a stapler and two arms to shut you up." He cackled amusedly at his own joke. Jordan then felt a rubber-like hand burden his shoulder. "Sorry I couldn't see you face to face for your last order, but honestly, you didn't expect me to did you?"

Jordan chuckled uncertainly, hoping it was the right thing to do.

"How did they work out for you?"

"Excellent," Jordan replied hoarsely, now sweating bullets as the hand's grip tightened around his shoulder. The dusty garage air was starting to rise up his nostrils, making his fast paced breathing more difficult.

"You know, I still don't see what a guy like you would do with 100 kt diamond dust. I went through a lot of trouble to get that for you...and the funny thing is, I don't even know why. It seems like every deal I've ever made with you has always been on your terms...but I don't play anyone's game but my own." His voice grew gradually deeper with anger. "Now," he gritted his tobacco-worn teeth, "Why don't you and I have a little heart to heart?"

With a swift movement from his forearm, Nick bashed at Jordan's throat and sent him flying backwards, choking for air. Frome straddled himself comfortably on his abs and pulled his head off the floor, gripping his jaw.

"Listen here. I got your diamond dust again," he said, pulling out a small box from his pocket. "But you're going to do me a little favor in retur--"

"Frome!" a voice rang impatiently from outside. "Frome! Where the hell are you?!"

Nick dropped Jordan faster than hot coal and crazily rotated his head from Jordan to the door. "Wha--, what's going on?!" he gasped, stumbling backwards. Just then the man outside busted in and shouted, "Imperio!", wand targeting Frome.

Jordan froze.

Whitehorn stood in the middle of the empty garage casting an Unforgivable on a Muggle.

Not thinking, he pulled out his wand and disarmed Whitehorn. "Freeze Whitehorn!" he hollered, his hand shaking unsteadily. "You're under arrest!"

Whitehorn, confused, watched as Frome's bodyguard advanced on him with a magical weapon. He made haste to disapparate, but Jordan, half expecting him to attempt escape, cast the Impediment curse on him and caught him by the leg before he fully disappeared. Then, swinging him heedlessly onto the ground, he cuffed the criminal and disapparated the both of them back to headquarters.

**

Hermione was limping, her back still sore from Malfoy's abuse, to her very inviting chair when she heard Jordan cooing her name.

"WHAT?!" she whined in return, really not in the mood to walk all the way down the hall.

"Come here!" barked Jordan impatiently.

Hermione groaned and looked around for anything that could temporarily ease her pain. A bottle of Advil hidden under her desk for emergency Muggle cases came to the rescue. She popped more than she should have into her mouth and washed it down with her Ozarka bottle. Taking a deep breath, she rose slowly and commenced to waddling towards out door.

"Took you long enough," Jordan scoffed. Hermione grabbed the closest object to her, which happened to be a stapler, and pitched it at him; hitting him with a loud CRACK. "OW!" he yelped. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"You could show some consideration for the injured next time Alex!" Hermione blazed, reaching for a box of paper clips. Jordan saw Hermione's red face and his impatient anger drowned inside his guilt.

"What happened?" he muttered, holding his arm out to turn her head.

"Nothing, I'll be fine," she responded coldly, dodging to look the other direction.

Jordan sighed and retreated his arm. There was a moment of needed and healing silence before he dared to speak again.

"I know who was behind Drake Cardon now, and it wasn't only Draco Malfoy..."

Hermione raised a curious eye and averted all her attention towards him. "Who?"

"Whitehorn," he exhaled gloomily. "It turns out he framed Nick Frome for his last crimes and used him and his connections to get his hands on diamond dust. I fed him some stored Veritaserum and questioned him about his doings...and uncovered that he's not alone. It turns out Draco Malfoy and..." he paused shortly, scanning Hermione's expression before he continued, "and Ronald Weasley...were both part of it. In fact, they're the masterminds...They hold a large portion of the Nimbus company stocks, so Whitehorn would be ruined without them; with that in mind, they approached him one day and asked for his help on a project they were doing. Being the butt kisser that he is, he agreed. It turns out Whitehorn only volunteered to look out for you on the Cardon case so that he could keep an eye on things at the party for Draco and Ron..."

Hermione had fallen into an eerie silence, her face was washed clean of all emotion and tone. This wasn't how she wanted to hear of Ron after their Hogwarts years...she didn't want to believe it.

"W-Why did Ron...why did he help Malfoy with Cardon?" she stuttered weakly.

"He didn't Hermione," Jordan practically whispered. "Malfoy was helping Ron.--"

Hermione shut her eyes and tried to suppress the ball of air climbing up her throat that led to tears. "Ron? Why would he--"

Jordan glued his eyes on his torn loafers, he knew this was exactly what Hermione never wanted to think about again; this was exactly what she never wanted to hear. "Hermione, I think we'll call it a day..."

"No," she cried softly. "No, Jordan. Tell me. I need to know..."

"But Hermione," he argued gently.

"Tell me Jordan," she pressed on louder, voice quivering more than ever.

Jordan sighed. "The reason Ron left you after Harry died was because a werewolf had scratched him up pretty good during the war...he didn't think it was a big deal until his first transformation...then he began to fear that you wouldn't accept him..."

"That's silly," she tried to laugh through her sobs. "Lupin was--I accepted him--he knew Remus was a werewolf...why would he think...I--," she trailed off choking on incoherent thoughts to herself.

"Last Thanksgiving, Cardon went over for dinner; they were his only family left after Tonks died. Ron tried to send them all away before nightfall, but Cardon stayed--and he got infected too."

"Why didn't they use the potion to let him keep his mind?!"

"Because they were working on something better. If he had taken that potion, he wouldn't be able to try the new one...for it'd upset the magicks within...it's like taking Dimetapp simultaneously with Tylenol. But now that they had another werewolf on their hands, they figured they could go through the trial and error phase of their new potion quicker...testing two samples every full moon."

"What was better about this new potion?! It didn't prevent him from turning into a vile murderous creature!" she burst out, pounding Jordan's chest with her tiny fists.

"Hermione--" he repeatedly softly to her as he pulled her into an embrace. "Hermione--"

"They're close to the answer...I know that," he assured her, giving her a gentle squeeze. "They've managed to stop the physical change, which is amazing just by itself, and most of the mental disturbances, but when the full moon hits the werewolf the brain still sends out predator signals telling him to kill whoever was in sight...driving him insane." He paused and took a deep breath before he continued.

"Whitehorn was watching you the whole time...he was taking notes on how the potion was working...that's how he knew where to find and rescue you before the Converite took your life. I'm not going to forgive him Hermione, trust me, he's going to pay..." Burning anger rose inside his chest the more he thought about it. The more that was revealed, the sicker the whole situation got. He compressed Hermione in his arms and rested his cheek on her silky hair, allowing the quietness to take over them.

**