A/N: Terribly sorry for the delay(understatement, much?) I was having my GCSEs and I lost all hope in any of my fics. Yet, I recently saw some of the positive feedback you guys gave me and that motivated me to continue the story. I'm not sure if the flow is going to change, probably will, as the kills will be more seperated. With more room for 47 for 'trial and error'.

I don't want to be a pushy ***hole, but it is the reviews which keep me going. So, make sure you review what you thought of this chapter. And now, on with 47.

Semptember 15th, 10:30 p.m. Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Agent 47 stood in front of the small desk that dominated a corner in the Muggle Studies teacher's chambers. A small map lay on the desk, showing much of the grounds of Hogwarts, the surrounding forest and part of Hogsmeade. 47's index finger traced a path from the doors of Hogwarts to an icon on the edges of the Forbidden Forrest labelled ICA. He swiftly folded the map and slipped it into the pocket of his fawn robes.

47 opened the door to his chambers and whipped out a black eleven-inch wand from within a hip holster. 47 walked down the corridors, heading for the Great Hall and for the gates.

Before he was able to enter Hogwarts as Jonas Akerfeldt, the new Muggle Studies professor, 47 made sure he was not carrying any muggle artifacts (apart from those required by the actual subject) which meant he had to relinquish any form of weaponry or electronic communications device if he was to pass Dumbledore's revealing charm. The client has arranged for his equipment to be dropped off at the nearest point to the castle, for 47 to pick up later. Which he is going to do.

Kingsley Shacklebolt patrolled the corridors outside the Griffyndor dormitories, his wand held high, its tip alight. He reasoned that an assassin hired by Voldemort would most likely make on attempt on the Boy-Who-Lived's life. Thus, he patrolled these corridors on that basis, his wand at the ready and his senses sharpened. As Always.

He sighed.

It was ridiculous! A muggle assassin breaking through the security of Hogwarts?The safest place in the Wizarding World?

Insane.

Yet, that very muggle assassin has succesfully murdered five order members. Not to mention he almost killed me Kingsley thought.

But in the end, Kingsley was certain he was wasting his time here. Dumbledore was keeping him close to protect him. And he hated it.

Yet, he patrolled the corridors.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

47 kneeled in the dry soil of the Forbidden Forest, an elongated black box in front of him. The box had his isigna on it along with the letters ICA. He looked around, perhaps, for the fifth time since he came here.

He had found the box hidden within some foliage at the base of a gnarled old tree. The tree was situated deep enough into the forest that an outsider would not spot 47. It was, however, somewhat close to the hut in which lived the Half-giant, Hagrid.

47 opened the box to reveal his Silverballers (silncer, ammo and all), two vials of poison and sedative and syringes and his tiny laptop. He swiftly hid these items into the folds of his robes. He was about to leave when he spied something else in the box. A memory chip labelled : Intel.

He added the memory chip into his breast pocket and rose.

He scanned his surroundings, paying close attention to the strange-looking hut when it's door opened.

Hagrid's giant form was silhoutted in the door frame. The half-giant was talking to someone. 47 strained his ears and listened.

"Well, if yer ever in need of anythin'," said the half-giant "ye know who to come to, eh? Now, let me take you to in ter the castle"

"No, Hagrid, it's okay," said the young voice of Ronald Weasley as he exited the hut, barely managing it past Hagrid's girth.

"Yer sure, now?" asked Hagrid.

"Yeah, Yeah, of course," said Weasley, his voice becoming muffled. He was crying.

Ronald Weasley made his way to the castle, his shoulders drooping. Hagrid watched him till he was almost to the doors, then he entered his hut locking the door behind him.

Agent 47 saw an opportunity. He quickly, yet silently, followed the redhead to the doors of Hogwarts.

On the way, 47 whipped out a black eleven-inch wand from within a shoulder holster, the wand's tip lit as he pressed a concealed pressure sensor. The wand was another elaborate toy provided by the Agency's contacts. Custom-made. Containing an actual magical core, should it be inspected. This little gimmick had cost him $50,000.

47 stopped behind Weasley at the base of the steps leading to the giant, ornate doors of the castle.

"Young man," said 47, his cold voice stopped the boy in his tracks "what could you be possibly doing out of bed at this time of night? It's well an hour past curefew!"

Weasley turned at the top of the steps. He semed to squint, attempting to recognize the man at the bottom.

"You're that new Muggle Studies professor, aren't you?" asked the redhead "Jonas Akerfelf, was it?"

"Akerfeldt," corrected 47, his voice composed "Off to your dormitories, now, young man"

The boy turned, and without a reply, entered the castle. 47 followed him, his 'wand' held high in his left hand, his right had disappeared into the folds of his robes. 47 was ambidextrous, a very valuable trait for an assassin.

He had hesitated in finishing off the boy outside the castle, wary of Hagrid being alerted. He has also heard about the sentient creatures hiding within the Forbidden Forest. Therefore, 47 decided to follow the boy into the castle (where almost everyone was in slumber) and find a secluded corner in which to eliminate him.

47 followed the young redhead up a couple flights of stairs. They were walking through an empty corridor when 47 decided it was as a good place as any. He tightened his right grip around the Silverballer, which he had silenced, and made to pull it out...

"Another troublesome Weasley, eh, professor?" echoed an old female voice.

47 was startled, something he rarely does. He instinctively looked around, but saw noone. It was Impossible! He was certain no one followed them. His Silverballer as halfway out. Could it be he was making blunders, now?. Was he getting too old?

He looked at the redhead. His face had reddened and was on the verge of tears when the voice spoke his family's name.

"A more troublemaking bunch I have never encountered before!" the voice said again. Yet, this time, 47 was able to pin point its source. The woman who had spoke was not behind him, nor any where around him.

The woman who spoke was in a large portrait to his left. She had the most wrinkled face 47 ever saw, and wore blue velveteen robes. She stood in the midst of many large fruits, in an artist's rendition of a giant's garden. Indeed, the outline of two large legs could be seen behind the woman.

47 quickly slipped his Silverballer back into the inside pocket of his robes. He looked at the portrait for a moment. He had seen the moving portraits before. Yet, it had never crossed his mind that they had a personality of their own let alone that they could talk. He never even thought of inspecting them. A mistake he could have paid dearly for.

"Please, Mr. Weasley has suffered two terrible deaths in the family," said 47 coldly, his tone scathingly so "He would appreciate it if you do not antagonize his family name"

That shut her up.

47 wiped his brow, which was slick with perisperation. He thought of the intel memory chip in his breast pocket.

"I...I didn't even know you were behind me," said the young Weasley.

"Indeed," 47 said, smiling "Well, I wouldn't be doing a good job of patrolling the grounds if you did, would I?"

He walked the boy the rest of the way to the Griffyndor common room, making sure the redhead was slightly leading the way. All the while, 47's eyes scanned every nook and crany on the walls and the ceiling, coming to the conclusion that the moving-talking portraits dominated almost every square inch in Hogwarts.

They arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, where a tall dark wizard stood by, his wand held out. The man relaxed considerably upon seeing the pair.

"Ronald, what were you doing outside your dormitory at this time of night?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt, lowering his wand "I hope he had not given you any trouble professor..."

Shacklebolt squinted at 47's face.

47 tightened his grip on his 'wand'. The gimmick was also equipped with a miniature dart-launching device. A double click on a hidden button and a dart covered in sedative would dig itself into Shacklebolt's neck.

Although his face was composed, 47's mind was a turmoil. A dead man stood before him. Kingsley Shacklebolt was the third target he eliminated! Yet, there stands the man as healthy as a horse!

Yet, the look on Shacklebolt's face was not that of recognition but of ignorance.

47 made a gamble. He offered his hand.

"Professor Jonas Akerfeldt, at your service," said 47, his sophisticated English accent polite to the core.

"Ah, you must be the new Muggle Studies professor," Shacklebolt said "Kingsley SHacklebot, Head Auror, at yours. It was a real shame what happened to your predecessor. He taught Muggle Studies here for nearly eighty years!"

"I can only hope I can fill in his shoes," said 47 genialy.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," said Kingsley "Say, I have this unearthly feeling that I've seen you before, have you ever been at the Aurors' at the Ministry?"

47 forced a chuckle.

"I can happily say I've never been arrested before," said 47 heartily "if that's what you mean"

Kingsley smiled.

"My mistake, sir," he said "you have a good night!"

47 returned the pleasentary and departed towards his chambers. He had a lot of problems he would have to rile through. These portraits, or rather eye witnesses. The free intel provided by the Agency which almost never happens, so something must be up, and, last but not least, his eliminated targets rising from their deaths.

Shacklebolt, on the other hand, had one thought going through his mind.

I don't believe Akerfeldt was on patrol duty tonight.