A/N: Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed Undercovers! So, this is the second half of Undercovers, and you should really go back and read that one first, otherwise, I don't think this one will make much sense. In the Author's Note of Undercovers, I said that I would expand this if it had enough interest and I think I will definitely be expanding it later this spring, because I have no self control and I just love this universe and the relationship way too much to let it go in 10k words. So, check back for that eventually!

Also, I was meant to be posting three other Fenrimione oneshots this week, but I am changing jobs and moving states this week and it's just been way busier than I imagined, so I haven't done that. I am still hopeful to get those out later this month, but no promises. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. Please let me know what you thought of Informants!

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked the man who was currently sitting in her chair, feet draped across her desk, not caring that he was probably disturbing the carefully constructed piles that she had. It was too early in the morning for Sirius Black to be looking quite so smug with himself. Even more suspicious, Sirius Black had no reason to be darkening the finance department at all.

"Aw, don't sound so irritated, kitten," he cooed at her, leaning back in her chair and making no moves to leave. "Can't I just visit you because I miss seeing your beautiful face?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes further at him, setting her bag on the floor next to her desk. "Really?" she asked, feeling a little bit amused now. "That was the best that you could come up with?"

She wasn't stupid - there was no reason for Sirius to be there unless he needed something. While they were friendly outside of work - she regularly went for drinks with him, Remus, Harry and Ron after work - they had almost no reason to cross paths at work. And the last time that she had gotten mixed up with his department, nearly a whole year ago, she'd been tasked with going undercover to infiltrate Fenrir Greyback's gang and help him launder money.

Honestly, she'd probably had too much fun on that assignment, but she still felt terribly guilty about how things had ended up. She'd grown attached to the tall, dangerous man and even tried to hint to him about his police surveillance, but he'd thought too much of his abilities and ignored the advice. Last she'd seen him, he'd been hauled out of the warehouse where he did his business with murder in his blue eyes.

"Well, we have a little job for you, actually," Sirius said finally, knowing that the jig was up. Hermione pushed his feet off of her desk.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Hermione asked, leaning against the wood top and looking down at the handsome man. "Last time I did field work, Remus suggested that I never do it again. He said I didn't have the right temperament for it." She crossed her arms over her chest protectively, still annoyed at the comments that Remus had made. She wasn't sure if he knew the depth of the relationship that she'd formed with Greyback, but she didn't care for the subliminal hints that he was constantly giving her.

Sirius smirked at her, obviously aware of the tension that had been building between her and Remus. He must have known that if there was one thing that drove her it was someone telling her she couldn't do it. "Well, in this case, Remus doesn't really get an opinion," Sirius said, his voice lowered. "We need you, kitten."

"Alright, what's the job?" Hermione bit, curious as to what could be so important that even Sirius didn't care what Remus thought.

"We've got someone in who's agreed to be a confidential informant for us," Sirius explained, all hints of his previously playful persona vanished now that he was in serious talk mode. "But, he's only agreed to do it on the condition that he be able to pick his handler."

Understanding quickly began to sink in for Hermione. How could they possibly be asking her to do that? "No, no, no, Sirius," Hermione said, standing up and beginning to pace nervously at the thought of coming face to face with Greyback again. It had been a year, but she was still certain that he was very upset with what she'd done. "It's out of the question!"

"Come on, Hermione," Sirius said, trying to sound reassuring. "Greyback has asked for you specifically. He won't work with anyone else. And we really need him to flip on Voldemort. We are so close to bringing him down for good this time."

Hermione was certain that Remus must not have shared his thoughts that she and Fenrir had had a sexual relationship if they were even considering this. "But, Sirius, don't you remember what I did?" she asked, sounding hysterical. "I helped him launder money and set him up to get taken down. He must hate me!"

Sirius caught her shaking hands in his own larger ones. "Hey, listen, Hermione, it's going to be okay," he said, gently. "I will be there with you, for the first meeting at least. He has to be good if he wants any sort of deal with us to get out from under all the charges we could hit him with. He'll be on his best behavior."

She wasn't entirely sure that Sirius knew what he was talking about, but she knew that he at least believed what he was saying, or else he wouldn't be offering her to the wolves. "I don't know, Sirius," she said, feeling unsure of herself. Hermione had long ago pushed aside any thought of ever crossing paths with Fenrir Greyback again.

"Please, kitten," Sirius nearly begged, not letting go of her hand.

Biting her lower lip, Hermione considered it. "Oh...alright," she said finally. "But I am only going to promise one meeting," she added. She wasn't going to subject herself to Fenrir if he was going to treat her poorly.

Sirius stood up and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, something that would be wildly inappropriate if they weren't such good friends. "Thanks, Hermione," Sirius said brightly. "Come over to my place at...let's say 9:00 tonight. I'll see you then."

Hermione was sure she wasn't going to be able to get even one thing accomplished that day for work, her stomach full of knots thinking about her impending meeting with a man she'd promised herself to just forget about. But, there was also another part of her, a secret little part, that was thrilled at the prospect of seeing Fenrir Greyback again.

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Hermione arrived at Sirius's flat at 9:03, hoping to broadcast her displeasure to the reckless agent by showing up late. The message was not received.

Instead, Sirius looked utterly relieved to see her as her presence broke up whatever awkward interaction that he had been having with Greyback. "Come in, come in," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her towards the living room, not making any offer to take her coat from her.

She could feel herself stumbling over her own feet, like she couldn't quite pick them up because it would mean taking another step towards an uncertain fate. Still, Sirius pressed her forward and before she knew it, she was standing in the doorway, face to face with a man who had haunted her dreams for months.

Fenrir smirked as soon as he laid eyes on her. He had made himself quite at home in Sirius's living room, with a rocks glass full of whatever expensive whiskey the other man had lying around, feet propped up on the coffee table. Fenrir made no secret that he was looking her body up and down. "Peach," he said, his voice coming out like a rumble that made her heart skip a bit.

Blinking, Hermione quickly realized that Greyback hadn't changed one bit, but unlike last time, she held all the cards here. "Fenrir," she answered, drinking in the sight of his muscled arms, exposed by the rolled up sleeves of the pressed blue shirt he wore.

"I can't believe that you actually agreed to this. After all, last time you messed with fire you very, very nearly got burned," he countered, sounding impressed, even though his words were vaguely threatening.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hips to one side, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the man. "Yes, however did you get out from underneath all those charges, Fenrir?" she derided him. "I thought that we built a pretty airtight case against you."

He rewarded her with one of those feral grins. "The judge threw out the case," he said proudly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Due to entrapment. Turns out when an undercover agent is the one who is actually keeping the books, it doesn't look too good for your case."

She frowned. Hermione hadn't known the outcome of Greyback's case, managing to keep the guilt she felt at bay by studiously ignoring anything that came down about him. But, she had to admit that he had a point. She wondered how any of Remus's higher ups ever thought that the case they had built was going to fly. She had always thought that they had more evidence than just what she was doing.

"So why did you come to us, then?" she asked, slinking down into the couch opposite of him, curious as to why he would be voluntarily darkening their door after how they had tried to put him away. "Seems counterintuitive." Hermione turned to look at Sirius who was watching their exchange with wide eyes. "Aren't you going to offer me a drink?"

Sirius grumbled quietly, before turning into the kitchen to retrieve her a beverage, leaving her and Fenrir alone for a moment.

"Well, as it turns out, my boss's boss doesn't really care for people who get picked up by the police and thrown into jail, even when they get their charges dropped," Fenrir said with a sneer. "He's been using me as an example for the past few months, and I'm getting sick of having to watch my back constantly," he explained.

"And you've come to us to get even with Voldemort then?"

"Well, I figure it's the least that you people can do to help me to get out from under this mess, seeing as you are the ones who caused it in the first place," he argued, finishing the rest of the whiskey in his glass. "The way I see it, you owe me. But I have valuable information, so I will make it worth your while."

Hermione considered him for a beat, before deciding that he was telling her the truth. She could imagine that a proud man like Fenrir would detest being kicked around by the likes of Lord Voldemort. Further, he was always looking out for one person - himself. If he thought that this was the best outcome for him, there was no way that he wouldn't be taking it.

"Is this what you normally wear?" he finally asked, gesturing to her white and black polka dot blouse, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "It fits you far better than your leather jacket," he added with a leer.

She answered his challenge with a smile. "Sirius picked that jacket out and I still wear it, but not to work," she explained triumphantly. "How the tables have turned, Fenrir...you know, when I first came to you, you had to check me for a wire. Maybe we better check you for a wire...make sure that you aren't just using us for Voldemort's benefit."

Fenrir licked his lips, loving the game that they were playing. "Oh Peach you tempt me," he said, standing up from his spot near the window. Immediately, his fingers went to the buttons on his shirt and began undoing them. He shrugged out of the shoulders once it hung open. "If you wanted to see me naked again, you only just had to ask."

He called her bluff, but didn't stop, even when she protested, her cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. Instead, he lifted his white undershirt over his head, showing off tanned skin stretched over taut muscle, skin covered in a dusting of hair. Fenrir loved to show off and he was clearly very impressed with what he had to offer. Hermione felt all those old feelings for him spark back to life, arousal bubbling up, making her forget that they were in Sirius's apartment.

Sirius walked out of the kitchen, vodka soda in hand for Hermione, but he nearly dropped it when he saw the staring contest between the shirtless man and embarrassed accountant. "Oi, what the fuck is going on in here?" he asked, obvious disturbed. "I was gone for like two minutes!"

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It had taken a lot of reassuring to convince Sirius that she was well and truly okay to be left alone with Fenrir. He had looked suitably concerned, with his eyebrows furrowed together, mumbling about how maybe Remus had been right, but in the end he had conceded and agreed to let Fenrir become a confidential informant. And Hermione...she was looking forward to being his handler.

Fenrir usually came to her flat on Tuesday nights with cigar smoke clinging to his well fitting shirts. He would swagger into her living room like he owned the place, flopping his large body onto the couch and drinking from the flask he always carried with him. Hermione would studiously take notes while he ran through any pertinent information he had about Voldemort - whose real name was revealed to be Tom Riddle - or his movements since they had spoken last.

He was eager to share all sorts of details about Dolohov and a woman called Bellatrix Lestrange who he seemed to have a particular beef with, building up an airtight case against all of them brick by brick. He described their operations, giving the names of businesses that they funneled their money though, and people who had allowed Riddle to put property in their name to shield it from the police.

When he was done, the real fun would begin. He'd pick something to complain to her about - the uncomfortable pillows she had on her couch or the soft bossa nova she always had playing in the background - knowing that it would start an argument with her. They'd go back and forth sniping at each other, leaning closer and closer, until one of them would snap and they'd be making out on her couch, once even wiling away several hours.

God, they way that he held her, the way he made her feel had her clenching her legs together, looking for any kind of relief.

She certainly kept that part of their interactions out of her field reports that she filed with Sirius.

And when the light of day was on her, she tried to remind herself why Fenrir was completely the wrong person for her, and how she couldn't get caught up in this relationship of theirs again. There was no way that it could lead to anything but heartbreak for her. But, no matter how many times she reminded herself of that fact, she found herself looking forward to seeing Fenrir more and more each week.

It was on one such night, when Fenrir was describing the way that they were funneling money through a home for the elderly of all places, that Hermione realized he really knew more about money laundering than he'd ever let on in the first place. Narrowing her eyes at him, she cut him off mid-sentence. "You never even need an accountant in the first place," she accused. "So why did you take me on then, hm? Did you know it was a trap?"

Fenrir grinned at her, leaning back in his seat. "Guilty as charged," he agreed, unabashed. "At first I thought that Remus was just trying to find work for a girl he was trying to get it in with, so I humored him. But you were far too intriguing to pass up, Peach."

Hermione swallowed, thinking over his words. It was flattering for her to hear that she'd been so interesting to him when he undoubtedly had all sorts of women throwing themselves at him. And, it was nice to know that some of the feelings she still had mucking about in her heart might be returned. At also worked to assuage some of the guilt she felt for letting Fenrir get tangled up in her agency's plots to begin with. "I tried to warn you," she said quietly, her brown eyes darting up to look at his face.

He was pulled her closer into him then, until their bodies were touching completely. "I didn't understand what you meant," he said, eyebrows furrowed together. "Until later, when I was sitting in a fucking jail cell. You betrayed me, Hermione," he growled out.

She could feel a lump forming in her throat and she tried not to cry from how horrid she felt about what she'd done to him. "I'm sorry, Fen-"

The man cut her off with an intense kiss, lips slipping against one another in a familiar fashion. He pulled away. "But I also know that your heart wasn't in it. That you wouldn't have done it if you'd had the choice," he added. "I know that you tried to warn me. You gave me more than Remus ever did and I worked with him for over a year."

Hermione nodded up and down, unable to find the words. She was just so glad that he didn't blame her for what happened, even if she was sure she would always carry some of the guilt with her. "I'm glad you are helping us, Fenrir," she told him honestly. "But what are you going to do when it's all over?" she knew that it was unsustainable, this arrangement that he'd worked out with her and Sirius.

His smile cut off all discussion, even if she could still see flickers of worry reflected in his eyes. "Let's not talk about that right now, Peach," he said with a grin, before lifting her by her hips to pull her onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist. "I've only got a little time before I have to go back, so let's take advantage of it."

Hermione knew that it was a discussion that they were going to have to have, but for the time being, she was more than willing to let herself be distracted by Fenrir's rough kisses, bites and nips against the skin of her neck while he guided her to rock herself back and forth against his hardness. It felt too good to stop.

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It would be putting it mildly to say that Hermione was concerned when she hadn't seen Fenrir in over two weeks. Her mind was jumping to all sorts of terrible conclusions about what might have happened to him. Had Tom Riddle discovered that he was working with them? Had he been killed?

Sirius dismissed all of her concerns, reminding her that Fenrir Greyback was a gangster who had been in more trouble than she could ever dream up, and that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was not the least bit comforting, and had ended up with a harsh argument where Hermione expressed concern for how their agency looked after their confidential informations and Sirius revealing that he was as concerned as Remus had been about how deep her attachment to Fenrir ran. It had left her sulky and annoyed.

She spent every Tuesday night sitting on the edge of her couch, waiting for Fenrir's distinctive knock, but week after week it didn't come. When the clock dutifully ticked past eleven p.m. the third week, Hermione convinced herself he wasn't going to show up again and changed into her pajamas, feeling bitter and worried. When she heard that familiar rap on the door, Hermione almost thought that it was little more than her mind playing tricks on her. But then she heard it again.

Hermione was yanking the chain free of its track, wrenching the door open, filled with momentary relief when she saw Fenrir standing there. Then, her jaw dropped when she saw the state of him. A yellowing bruise was clear on his jawline and his right eye was still purple and blue from the right hook of his assailant.

"Oh my god, what happened to you?" she demanded, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him inside her flat. With the door locked behind him, she noticed the broken skin at his knuckles. Gasping she cradled his hand in hers, using her thumb to gently touch the broken skin.

"Don't worry," he said, giving her one of those lopsided grins. "I gave as good as I got."

Hermione did not doubt that, but it wasn't the explanation that she needed. Before she could question him further, he was lifting her up effortlessly and setting her onto her counter. He caught her mouth in a deep kiss, tongue delving between her lips. Hermione moaned against him, feeling a zing of pleasure up her spine when he slid his tongue against hers.

Breaking away from his kiss, she blinked, waiting for her eyes to refocus. "You were gone for weeks, Fenrir," she scolded, annoyed that he could just show up like this and try to sweep her off her feet. She was more annoyed with the way her body was reacting to him - on edge and ready for him. "You can't just come in here and kiss it better. What happened?" she asked, worried about what could have possibly happened to him.

"Got into it with Bellatrix's husband," he said, grunting when she pressed her fingertips to the edges of the bruise on his eye. He looked into her eyes, pupils blown so wide that she could barely see the ring of blue around the edges. "Hermione," he growled out, low in his chest. He pressed himself against her center, making her gasp from the feel of his hard cock against her body. "Need you."

Hermione was so glad to know that he was okay, she found herself pulling him down for another fierce kiss. His fingers found the waistband of her pajamas easily enough and started yanking them down. Hermione helped him by lifting her hips. She shuddered against his body at the sound of him fiddling with his own belt and jeans, her whole being attuned and ready for him. She had been haunted by the feel of him for months and months and she couldn't wait to have him inside of her again.

Fenrir groaned when he lined his cock up against her slit, letting her wetness coat him. And then, he was surging home, filling her up perfectly. He dropped his face into the crook of her neck, his hot breath tickling her skin. His teeth scraped against her skin, his tongued following after, determined to worship every inch of her body.

Pulling out, Hermione groaned when he left her, only to squeal in delight when he thrust home again. He repeated the action, enthralled in the feel of her wet heat clutching at him. He brought one hand up to cup her breast through the thin cotton top, squeezing. He chuckled at the feel of her nipple, already hard and pointed straining for more.

Hermione was delirious in pleasure when he kissed up her throat, still driving into her in that relentless rhythm. His belt hit the cabinet again and again in an obscene symphony every time he entered her, making her toes curl. "More," she pleaded, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, holding him to her. "Please, Fenrir."

He pressed one arm underneath her knee, lifting up her leg to a more favorable angle. Then his cock seemed to be hitting that one spot inside of her body that made her see stars with every thrust. She chanted his name over and over again, feeling her insides wind up like a spring, full of potential energy, just waiting to tip over the edge. She was so close, and she wanted him - she needed him, just a bit longer, just a bit more -

Orgasm hit her suddenly, filling her body with wave after wave of pleasure, radiating out from her cunt to the tip of nose and down to her toes. Fenrir pressed his face into her hair, his thrusts erratic and frantic, before he was following her over the edge with a groan of satisfaction.

Breathing heavily, she felt her heart pounding against her chest from exertion. Hermione wrapped her arms around around his neck, pressing her face against his chest, enjoying the spicy scent of him. Later, the voice of doubt would creep back into her head, reminding her that this was a bad idea, that it was unsustainable, but for now, she was content to enjoy the moment in Fenrir's arms.

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Things were hectic at work the next day when Hermione walked into the office. Everyone was running around, excited tones in their voices while the discussed whatever it was that had happened. It wasn't until she ran into Sirius that she actually learned what was going on.

"We arrested them all last night!" he said, with a big grin on his face. "Riddle actually tried to run away and Harry - I can't fucking believe it! - Harry he chased him down and cuffed him!"

Hermione felt a sigh of relief leave her body when she realized that Riddle and his associates had been captured, finally, and hopefully this time they wouldn't be getting away. She was thrilled for her friend, too, who was probably over the moon at having his first field mission go so well. Then she remembered now that Riddle was going to be locked away, there was nothing pushing her and Fenrir together any more.

"And our CI?" she asked Sirius, hoping she didn't sound too disappointed already.

"He's here, too," Sirius said, giving her an affectionate ruffle on the top of his head. "Remus tried to discuss options with him, but he wanted to wait to talk to you. They are in the meeting room, if you want to go talk to him."

Hermione's feet carried her to the meeting room before she even realized it. Opening the door, she immediately locked eyes with Fenrir. Remus, sensing the charged air in the room, wisely decided to give them some space, knowing that Hermione wouldn't accept anything else.

She slid into the chair next to his, turning her body to face him. If she was going to have her heart broken - if he was going to tell her that she was just a pretty body to waste time with - she was at least going to confront it head on. "So, what happens next?" she asked, hoping that he wasn't facing any jail time after how much he'd helped them.

"Lupin wants me to go into witness protection," he said with a deep frown. "He thinks its the safest option."

"I suppose that a clean break between the two of us is the easiest," she said, her eyes fluttering shut. She could feel tears at the corners of her eyes beginning to form, but she wouldn't allow herself to feel humiliated for crying in front of him. She had deep feelings for the man next to her. "Now that, now that our business relationship is over. I can't imagine that you'd want much to do with me, considering my job and all."

Fenrir scoffed at her words. He took her jaw in his hand, forcing her to make eye contact with his intense blue eyes. "You can't possibly think that I would give you up just because you are police. Even you must have felt the connection we had, and we had far too little time to explore it. There is far too much that I still plan on doing to you, Peach. I want you to show me what you can do with this smart mouth," he said, his thumb catching her full lower lip. "And I'd love to fuck you in a real bed for once."

"So it's just physical to you then?" she asked, feeling her body responding to his words, even if she didn't want to. She wasn't sure if it was the right decision to continue on with him if he never saw this going anywhere, not when she felt so deeply about him. It felt as if her heart stopped beating while she waited for him to answer.

Fenrir laughed at her then, shaking his head. "It's much more than physical. I couldn't get you out of my head. Even when you betrayed me, and I should have hated the way that you set me up, I couldn't stop thinking about you, Hermione," he confessed. "I'm not going to let anything separate us now - not Tom fucking Riddle and not Remus Lupin and not the witness protection program."

Hearing his confession, knowing that his feelings for her ran deeper than just enjoying getting between her legs, nearly made Hermione shout for joy. It was not a grand romantic gesture, but she didn't think Fenrir would ever be the type to confess his love with flowery language. Still, she was nearly too stunned to believe it was real. "So you want to be with me, even though I won't be your handler any more?"

"Of course, I do Peach," he said gruffly, perhaps not having anticipated just how much reassurance she would need. Knowing that it was far easier to show her than to tell her, though, he pulled her into a deep kiss, a pleased rumble sounding in his chest when she parted her lips, the tip of her tongue finding his gently.

Hermione thought she just might melt then and there, content to spend the rest of the afternoon wrapped up in Fenrir's strong arms. However, it was not meant to be, and Sirius was sticking his head into the room, breaking up the romantic moment. "Um, kitten, I know that I turned the other way when the two of you got up to no good when you were at your flat," he said, revealing that he'd known about the relationship the whole time. "But I can't let the two of you fuck here at the office," he added with a grin. "You have the rest of the day off...and, oh what the hell, take the week. We'll be processing these people for that long, and I don't need them seeing either of you, if I can help it."

Always one to take advantage of a situation, Fenrir was standing up then, her hand held tightly in his larger one. "Make it two weeks, Black," he said with a smirk, intent on not leaving her flat for at least that long.