Okay, so anyone who's read any of my other stories knows that I wrote this on a lark and decided to post it for the hell of it. Don't worry, you don't have to read anything else I've written to understand it.

I hope everyone enjoys this. It's not meant to be literary genius, so don't go in expecting lots of amazing insights into life, the universe, and everything. Please review me if you've got the time and inclination. I appreciate every single review I get.

I've got to do a quick thank you to J, without whom none of my stories would ever have been written or posted to begin with. Never get drunk and play poker at three in the morning with her. She'll win. Also, thank you to all the loyal reviewers on my other stories.

Okay, on with the show.

--Aimes

Smoke—

Paris. Friday night. Three days at most. Full prep, target acquired and confirmed.

Target: Silas Zilner.

My gift to you.

Bonne chance.

z.t.

Hermione Granger read the text-messaged note on her cell phone and frowned. How the bloody hell does he expect me to get out of school for this? It's a damned good thing I can forge mum and daddy's signatures…Silas Zilner…at last…

She typed a quick reply and sent it, glad that she'd charmed her room to be able to receive satellite signals. When the confirmation screen popped up, Hermione smiled and tossed the phone into a drawer, which she locked and warded carefully. She pulled out her parents' stationery and wrote a quick request for excusal to London for the weekend, forging her parents' flourishing signatures at the bottom. There, that should work. Hermione sent the note to Dumbledore then pulled on her socks and shoes, grabbed her bag, and proceeded to class. One day you will manage to get up early enough to eat breakfast. She let out a mental snort. Right after you cure cancer.

"Today you shall be brewing, or attempting to brew, the Polyjuice Potion. Instructions are on the board, you will turn into your partner. Try not to botch this one up, consequences can be…unpleasant." Snape looked pointedly at Hermione as he spoke. Yeah, I'll unpleasant one up your ass, Professor.

"Is there a reason for your smirk, Miss Granger?" he hissed. He knew about the incident in her second year, though he'd never mentioned it to her. He was, after all, a potions master, and a fairly meticulous one at that. One tended to notice three persons' worth of supplies missing from one's store cabinet. A cabinet which, incidentally, had become much harder to break into if anyone had taken the time to notice. He was simply thankful he'd kept his personal supplies in his chambers. He had no doubt that Hermione could brew just about anything under the sun and he had no desire for any of it to end up in his morning coffee.

"I'm not smirking, I'm smiling sir, because it's a lovely day." Nah, I'm smirking, asshole. He raised an eyebrow and turned away. Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, no, I thought I'd get detention just for thinking smart-assed comments, but hey, I'm not going to argue.

The owl was unexpected as it swooped in and dropped a note on Snape's desk. He read it and looked up.

"Miss Granger, report to Headmaster Dumbledore immediately. Longbottom, pair up with Malfoy and Zabini."

"Merde, what did we do to deserve that?" muttered Draco to Hermione.

"You were born," Hermione teased in a low whisper as she exited the room with her bookbag. Snape graciously ignored the banter. He must be getting soft in his old age.

Hermione strolled to Dumbledore's office, running through supplies in her head. Guns, ammo, throwing knives, boot dagger, cyanide, sodium penethol, what else? Oh, aspirin. You never know when you're going to have a headache.

She murmured the password and stepped onto the stairs as they spiraled towards the office. Also need to pack a change of clothes and my makeup. Paris…the only club Zilner would be at is Mage. So…blue spiky hair, dark eye makeup, blue contacts, berry lipstick…black leather pants? Yeah, that would be good… Black boots, obviously. Dagger will fit better. Anything else? Oh, jewelry. Do I need jewelry? Yeah, I probably do.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the stairs stopped. She stepped out and walked towards Dumbledore, seating herself in one of the chairs positioned in front of his desk. Bloody uncomfortable chairs too, if you ask me. All hard wood and no cushions or anything.

"Hello, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said kindly. "Toffee?"

She smiled her polite refusal even as she spoke. "Hello Headmaster. What can I do for you today?"

"I received a note this morning from your parents."

"Yes?" Hermione looked interested and vaguely confused.

"They've asked that you return home for the weekend. Is there any problem at home, Miss Granger?"

"No," now she really was confused. "Why?"

"Well, this is the third time this year they've asked you to return home for the weekend. I was just concerned that there may be an underlying problem."

"No," Hermione said with a cheerful smile. "They're just starting to miss their little girl, I suspect. Actually, though, I think it's my Aunt Sarenna's birthday and I'm her favorite niece. She probably begged them to bring me. I haven't seen her in ages."

"I see. Well as long as there is no problem, you are permitted to leave immediately after classes finish this afternoon. We shall expect you on Monday before class begins. How lucky that their requests never coincide with your weekend duties as Head Girl." He studied her shrewdly.

"Yes, that is rather fortunate," she replied easily. Fortunate indeed. Pretty sly for a man your age.

Hermione rose and left with a smile. Dumbledore watched her go with an inscrutable look.

Hermione returned to potions class just in time to get hit by Draco as Neville's cauldron exploded. Draco tackled her, bringing her down and shielding her with his body as potion came raining down.

"Try not to let any get in your mouth," he murmured by her ear.

"Wasn't intending to, genius." He tightened his grip on her body and she squeaked.

"Be nice," he chided.

"Sorry."

They struggled to their feet as Snape cast a cleaning spell. Neville had gotten some in his mouth and was beginning to resemble a furry troll.

"Go to the infirmary, Longbottom," Snape sighed irritably. "Is everyone else unharmed?"

They all nodded and murmured assent. Draco and Hermione went back to their desks. "Thanks, Draco," she said softly.

"Anytime," he replied just as softly.

"If you two wish to talk, you can do it in detention," Snape warned. Both shut up and hastily gathered their remaining things.

"Get out, all of you, before I'm forced to put us all out of our misery," Snape growled. Hermione grinned at him as she shouldered her bookbag and he shot her a wry, frustrated look. She strolled out of class with Harry and Ron, waving at Draco and Blaise as they broke off to go to Arithmancy. Since Voldemort's demise, there had been an uneasy truce between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Well, uneasy for most. Hermione had made fast friends with many Slytherins and felt no trepidation whatsoever around them. Having to share living space with Draco Malfoy, she had become accustomed to the Slytherin way fairly quickly. She'd also worked in close quarters with Snape at one point, and while she wasn't overly fond of him, they had a functional working relationship. She no longer regarded him as the devil, in any case. She proceeded to History of Magic, sat down, and zoned out.

So, where was I? Jewelry. No earrings…can't believe I lost those. Ring with anesthetic agent, necklace with camera…no, wait, that won't match the outfit. Plain necklace, then. Bracelet just because I like it and wristcuff with dragon for camera. There's a nice complete outfit. I think I'll be risqué and wear the hot pink undies, just because I can. Although blue would probably fit the theme better. Wow, planning's a pain in the arse. History of Magic came to an end more quickly than she'd expected and so did her day. Instead of heading for dinner, Hermione ran up to her room. She pulled out everything on her mental list and shoved it all in her messenger bag. After a moment of thought she penned a hastily scrawled note for Draco in their shared common room and weighted it with some chocolate—bribe candy. Hermione had no idea how much Draco actually knew about her life on the side, but she didn't want to take any chances. She changed into flared jeans, sneakers and a Simpsons t-shirt and exited the castle.

She hit the edge of the grounds quickly and disapparated into the fading evening.

Remus Lupin exhaled slowly as he waited for the steps to the Headmaster's office to finish rising. It had already been a long day, from the moment he woke up and found he was out of anything even resembling food to the glorious instant when he slipped in a mud puddle on Hogwarts grounds, and the summons promised to make the day that much longer. His life had been a series of cleanup jobs since Voldemort had fallen, and it was getting tiresome. Though his best friends from school were now long dead, he had developed another circle of comrades. Remus Lupin was, after all, a very likable person. But despite his ever-growing friendships with people like Tonks and Bill Weasley, his more solitary, quiet nature had taken over. He worked alone, which suited him, and didn't really give much thought to the future any more. Remus had become a great believer that you end up where life intends you to be. Life and Albus Dumbledore.

He stepped into Dumbledore's office and sat silently, waiting.

"Ah, Remus, how nice of you to come. I have an assignment for you this weekend if you can manage," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"What kind of assignment?" asked Remus warily, shifting in the uncomfortable seat. His last assignment had gotten him three days in St. Mungo's and two more days of Tonks caring for him at home. Few of his possessions had survived and he wagered he came out with more bruises than he'd ever had in his life, and not all of them were from the Deatheaters. Tonks was a sweet girl but his survival instinct demanded that he question his future assignments more carefully.

"There are a couple of rogue Death Eaters apparently in Paris stirring up trouble. I need you to go there this weekend and assess the situation firsthand." Lupin nodded, tiredly acknowledging that this damned war would never end, though Voldemort was dead and most of his Death Eaters were in Azkaban.

"Is there anything else, Headmaster?" he inquired with as pleasant a smile as he could manage.

"No, not at the moment. The club is called Mage, and the Death Eaters are Cayne and Bellemorte. Do you need Severus to accompany you?"

"That won't be necessary. I recall them," Remus murmured grimly. "I should be able to handle them on my own, I think. I shall leave immediately and visit the club on Saturday night."

"Lovely," Dumbledore beamed. "Good day, Remus, and good luck."

Remus smiled halfheartedly as he left the office. There was trouble ahead. The werewolf in him could smell it.