A/N: Hey babes! This here is an Antonin x Hermione that I've been thinking about a whole lot, so I am excited to finally share it with you. It is based off the movie Leon the Professional, which you might be familiar with because of Gary Oldman's "everyone!" scene, haha. I also got inspiration from the Elliot Moss song, Slip. This will definitely be a darker story than what I usually write, but still not too bad I don't think. Still it is definitely a manipulative and slightly evil Order of the Phoenix, so if you don't like that, I would skip this one. Oh, I should also say in this story, Dumbledore and Sirius didn't die, but Remus did.

I think this is going to be about 10 chapters, and I plan on updating about once a week. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I will post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

I would love to hear what you thought of chapter one and please be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

At first she had been concerned. Then, annoyed. And finally, just plain angry. No matter how hard Hermione Granger pushed, the Order of the Phoenix wasn't taking the threat the Death Eaters posed to her parents seriously. Headmaster Dumbledore told her not to worry. Mad-Eye Moody told her that they certainly weren't on the Death Eaters radar.

"What would they want with a pair of tooth healers in London?" He had groused at her. It was true that the Order fought for the "light" side, and were against the eradication of muggleborns. It was just that...they didn't really give much thought to the muggles that they lived nearly side by side with, worlds never crossing.

Except when their worlds did cross. Death Eaters were known to go into the muggle world and kill randomly. It was worse when the muggles were parents to the Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age with OWLs to match, best friend of Harry James Potter. Harry himself had been so distraught over the death of Remus and then obsessed with following Draco Malfoy that she didn't even try to bother him with her fears about her parents. And Ron...well, they hadn't been speaking for a lot of year six.

In the end, she'd decided to go to Professor McGonagall, a woman who had introduced her to being a witch, always supported her through her schooling and difficult decisions. "Oh, dear." Professor McGonagall had said over cooling tea. "Your parents will be perfectly safe, if Headmaster Dumbledore thinks so."

She'd returned to her dorm room that night and cried into her pillows. Hermione knew what was coming. She wasn't blind to the changes being made in the wizarding world. Harry and Dumbledore were planning something and she would be there for them, but...her parents were the only family she had, never having been quite welcomed into the Weasley clan like Harry had. And she wasn't just going to let them be overlooked because they were muggles!

After her cry, Hermione had gone to the library, naturally. She couldn't bare the thought of her parents being killed just because of something she did. Tortured for information on her whereabouts. Or worse, have someone use legilimancy on them, since they would be powerless to stop it.

It was the legilimancy that got her thinking. They couldn't be tortured for information if they didn't have any information on her whereabouts. They would be even better off if they didn't have information about Hermione Granger at all. She started looking at memory charms. The charm was easy enough to perform and she'd even figured out a way to plant a memory in their minds as well. That they'd always wanted to go to Australia.

Australia. That should be far enough away from the wizarding world to escape the Death Eaters. And then once the war was over and they were victorious, she could go and find them, and they could be a family again. Or, if the war didn't end well...they would never have to mourn the daughter they never knew they had.

Now, though, the day had finally come that Hermione was going to have perform the spell on her parents. She couldn't put it off any longer as the days towards Bill and Fleur's wedding ticked closer. If she was going to remove her parents memories, she couldn't just keep waiting around. Each day that went by was a day closer to that nebulous time when they had to begin looking for horcruxes. She didn't know how much time she had left.

Hermione had made a big production about spending her afternoon in the library at Grimmauld Place and how she didn't want to be disturbed. Perhaps because of how volatile her moods had been that summer, no one made any move to dissuade her. Instead of heading to the library after breakfast, though, Hermione stole into the back garden of the townhouse before aparating away to the quiet street her parents lived on. The Order couldn't stop her - she was an adult after all, and she'd gotten her apparition license.

Her parents were pleased to have her pop in for an unexpected visit, so happy to have their daughter home that they didn't question her thin appearance and the dark circles under her eyes. She spent the morning cooking with her mother, before sitting and reading with her father on the couch. Then, she told them she was just going to go pack up a few things in her room.

Feeling the tears already forming in her eyes, Hermione bounded up the stairs to her room, which was still princess pink. A time capsule of a little girl who didn't know that she was a witch, and was focused on being a ballerina. How far fetched those dreams seemed now, Hermione thought, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Outside it was raining quite heavily, the sky a light grey. She sighed. It was as if the world outside was matching the mood that she felt. Hermione knew that this was an impossible decision to make, but she knew that it was also the right decision for her parents. They wouldn't be happy at having their memories taken against their will, but...it was the only option she had, really.

A wave of her wand had books and photos stacking neatly, ready to be put in her little beaded bag that held an undetectable extension charm. But, she was quickly side tracked from her task, surprised by the sound of a doorbell. Hermione moved the curtain of her window, only to see Sirius Black and Bill Weasley standing at her doorstep.

Cursing her bad luck, Hermione wondered what had alerted them to the fact she wasn't under Order protection. Maybe she could actually convince them that her parents needed protection now that they were here. She scoffed, seeing how they were dressed, in long black robes, not even trying to hide the fact that they were wizards. Blood traitors though they may be, neither wizard had bothered with muggle fashion.

Deciding to head them off, Hermione walked to the top of the stairs only to be shocked when one of them blasted the front door off of it's hinges. "Avada Kedavra!" Sirius shouted, hitting her father directly with a killing curse.

Hermione shoved her hand in her mouth so that she wouldn't scream, pushing herself back, hoping that they wouldn't see her. Sirius had just killed her father! Why would he do that?

Moving into the home, Bill set the door to rights, while Sirius went in hunt of her mother. Soon a similar jet of green from the kitchen was echoing off the walls, alerting Hermione to the fact that her mother was dead as well. Were these doppelgangers? Death Eaters under polyjuice, trying to cause confusion within the Order?

"I don't like doing this." Bill said, watching as Sirius levitated the body of Hermione's mother into the kitchen. "Hermione has been so focused lately."

Sirius dropped her mother without care or concern. "You heard Dumbledore. Harry needs Hermione's full attention and worrying about her parents will distract her. This will put her more firmly on our side, if she thinks her parents were killed by Death Eaters. She will have no one left, except Harry."

Hermione slumped to the ground, careful not to make any sound while her body shook in violent sobs. She couldn't believe that the Order was conspiring against her in this way. She knew that Dumbledore manipulated people to get what he wanted - to do what was right for the greater good - but she didn't know that it stretched into murder! And she couldn't believe that Sirius and Bill would agree to go along with it. She had admired them both so much.

"Now help me cut them up a bit - we want it to look like a real Death Eater attack." Sirius said, before mumbling cutting hexes and spells. Hermione thought that she was going to be sick right there, but she couldn't alert the two men to her presence here. She didn't think that they would kill her, but she couldn't be positive either. She didn't want them to know that she'd stumbled onto their staging of a crime scene.

"Mosmorde!" Bill called, leaving the Dark Mark floating over her house, just before the two men apparated away.

Hermione peeked over the top of the stairs and all she could see was blood, dark red and everywhere. She felt her stomach roil in revulsion at the sight, bile swirling in her stomach, before coming up, up. Hermione lurched to her feet, just barely making it to the toilet before she threw up.

She felt so betrayed. And she'd done absolutely nothing to stop them! It had been too late for her father, but she could have at least gotten to her mother in time. Reaching a hand up, she wiped at her face, body wracked by sobs. It felt as if she was spiraling out of control. Of course, she came today to say goodbye to her parents, but she never expected them to meet such a violent end.

Shaking, she knew that she couldn't just return to Grimmauld Place as she'd planned to earlier that day. She could never return to those people, who had thought so little of her parents that they could kill them without batting an eyelash. If she was forced to return there now, she just knew that she would go berserk and…

Hermione stood up from her spot on the floor. Even if she couldn't go to Grimmauld Place, she did need to get out of here now. She wasn't supposed to be here and she couldn't be waiting here when her parents lay dead in the living room. Suspicion would fall on her immediately and the Dark Mark floating above the house was sure to attract aurors sooner rather than later, especially since it was in a muggle neighborhood.

Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, she thought of a place that no one would even consider looking for her. It was only when she was standing in the alley that she realized she'd left everything - even her little beaded bag - in her bedroom. Cursing under her breath, she reached in her pocket, glad to find at least a little bit of money. Enough that she could get a room tonight. She couldn't exactly go back to her home now, but perhaps tomorrow it would be safer.

The rain was coming down quite heavily now, threatening to soak through her jumper. Wrapping her arms around her body, she ducked into the closest pub. She needed a drink and to sort out her whirling thoughts.

Antonin Dolohov was having a rather boring day. Although Dumbledore hadn't been killed, when Severus Snape removed him from the school by throwing him off the Astronomy Tower of Hogwarts, the wizarding world had been sent into brief chaos, before the Dark Lord grabbed control with both hands. Prime Minister Pius Thickenesse was a puppet in every sense of the word, and soon it was possible for the Death Eaters to walk calmly wherever they pleased, leaving a trail of destruction and death. Antonin was frequently partnered with Thorfinn Rowle, a hulking brute, the only man to stand taller than him.

It had been at first, getting away with whatever he wanted, but it soon began to lose it's appeal. Things had become so easy and he was just looking for something to entertain him.

He stalked down Knockturn Alley, pulling the collar of his cloak up to cover his neck from the rain. Ever since the Dark Lord had risen to power, even the weather had changed. It was constantly gloomy, dark, and windy, sending icy pelts of rain down your the back of your robes if you weren't careful. Antonin scowled at witches when they cowered away from him.

He ducked into Bottle & Glass, a pub frequented by Death Eaters, pleased to find a fire blazing in the fireplace across the room, filling the room with warmth. Just because he was a dark wizard didn't mean that he didn't want to be toasty and warm. His boots stomped heavily against the floor as he walked to the bar, waving a hand at the bartender to pour his usual double firewhiskey.

Removing his heavy cloak, Antonin leaned back against the bar, surveying the room. It was unusually empty, he thought, but then again it was during the week. Still he would have expected to see some familiar faces...Travers or Rowle or Avery. It had him a bit on edge.

When he noticed the small witch in the corner booth, he felt his hackles rise unbidden. What exactly was she doing here, he wondered, so alone and vulnerable? He wondered if anyone else had realized that Undesirable Number 3 was currently sitting in the bar, knuckles white around a tumbler of firewhiskey.

He sneered. This witch. This witch had changed everything for him. He'd only seen her once before, in the Department of Mysteries, where they had dueled. Before her, he'd stuck to a code - no children. He could kill grown witches and wizards at will, but he didn't hurt children. It was a hold over from his own youth.

But then Hermione fucking Granger had engaged in a duel with him, reckless and brave and so utterly Gryffindor it made him sick. When she'd silenced him, he'd been so furious, so overcome with murderous rage, he had used his curse without hesitation, hoping the kill the fiery witch. When he learned that she'd survived, he wasn't sure if he should be impressed or utterly annoyed that she'd bested him again. He was incense that a tiny little witch like Granger could make him forget his principles after just a few minutes of knowing her.

And now, here she was, sitting alone and utterly unguarded, ripe for the plucking. He was across the room in seconds, standing before her table. His shadow fell across her face, but still she didn't look up. "Well, well, well, look what we have here. A little kitten all alone." His voice was deep and dark, and sent a shiver up her spine.

She turned slowly, giving him a glare that he supposed was supposed to be menacing, but had him biting back a grin. "Piss off, Dolohov." She said, fiercely, clearly not in the mood for a tête–à–tête. But, it only made him curiouser, that she didn't show a hint of fear of him. He'd sent her to the hospital, likely for weeks, but she wouldn't spare him a second look. Didn't she know who he was?

"Don't think I will." He said, before sliding into the booth, across the table from her. "What are you doing here, Granger? You are practically begging for a fight." He fingered the length of his wand in his pocket, almost wishing that she would draw her own.

This time when she looked at him, she made eye contact, her warm brown eyes swirling with emotion. Clearly she was upset, but there was anger there too. Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying. "So what if I am?" She asked, chin jutting out, as proud as she could be. Only, she slurred her words, suggesting that she'd been here, drinking, for a while.

Antonin couldn't help himself this time, laughing loudly, drawing the attention of the bar to him. He drank the rest of his drink in two gulps before motioning to the barkeep to bring the bottle over. The man did as requested, looking at Antonin curiously. "Are you sure you want it? I think she's had enough." Clearly, the bartender hadn't recognized just who his very famous guest was.

Antonin smirked, before looking over at her again. "Don't worry about her. I will look after her." He promised. He wasn't sure what he actually wanted to do with the foolish girl. Really, he should just take her out back in the alley and kill her. Leave her body for her precious Order of Phoenix to find her, and lament that they'd let her wander so far off on her own.

"You didn't answer my question, sweet." He said, patronizing her. "What are you doing here in Knockturn Alley?"

Her eyes immediately began to tear up, confirming his suspicions that she'd been crying before. "My parents are dead." She whispered, unwilling to break eye contact, almost daring him to say something rude.

He wanted to say something rude. That it was good that there were two less muggles in the world, useless as they were. He wanted to ask if they'd suffered first. But he knew it was cruel, and for some reason he couldn't cause this witch any more pain. Today, at least. "How did it happen?"

She took another drink from the glass of firewhiskey, and Antonin briefly wondered if she was even old enough to drink firewhiskey. She did look older than the last time he'd seen her. Her face was thinner, more angular, showing off good cheekbones and a pert nose. Her hair seemed less wild as well, but he wondered if that was just due to her being in the rain earlier.

Really, she must be old enough to drink if she was here in Knockturn Alley. After all, she must have apparated here, which meant she had her license. She was an adult in the wizarding world. Decidedly not a child anymore. He could kill her now without remorse, he thought. This time he could keep to his code, when he eventually tired of her at the end of the night.

Her voice broke his musings. "They were murdered." She whispered, making his dark eyes brows rise in surprise. It was unusual that two muggles would be murdered, and he wasn't aware of any Death Eater plans to take care of Granger's parents. That would need to be personally ordered by the Dark Lord, not just some young vigilante wanting to prove a point. If they did, they would be definitely be punished. Granger was important to the Dark Lord...or rather, her demise would be important.

He tried to lie and say that was the only reason why he hadn't just killed her already, but of course, he knew that it wasn't true. He couldn't lie and pretend like he wasn't intrigued by her and the circumstances that had brought her here. She looked so sweet and innocent, but here she was, trying to act so tough.

So just what was she doing here then? "Looking for some Death Eater to take down to avenge their deaths?" It would be so like a Gryffindor to rush off to some dark alley to try and take down as many Death Eaters as they could, not giving a second thought to their own personal safety in the process.

Hermione snorted, before grabbing the bottle, letting it scrape across the table before she uncorked the bottle and poured a generous portion into her empty glass. "Quite the contrary. I know exactly who killed them. I don't need to take down Death Eaters to get revenge."

Antonin stared at her, wondering what that meant. She sounded so bitter. But at the same time, she was suggesting that a Death Eater wasn't responsible for the death of her parents, leading him to question just who it was. Sure, muggles were filthy, killing each other with animal savageness all the time, but he didn't think that the parents of this young woman would fall prey to such an act. She was obviously from a good middle class family, not exactly the type to be randomly murdered.

It was odd watching her face. She was so expressive, so free with her emotions, that he could clearly see the wheels churning in her brain as she tried to formulate and work through what she was feeling. "You're Antonin Dolohov." She said finally.

He wasn't able to stop the little laugh that bubbled up at her pronouncement. "Yes, I thought we'd established that already, kitten." Perhaps her parents' murder had addled her mind. Was she just now realizing exactly who she was seated across from?

"You're...ruthless. You kill without hesitation or concern about who it is. Not emotionless, but driven by rage." Hermione said quickly, as though she were psychoanalyzing him. It made him uncomfortable to have his actions and his motivations picked apart so easily by this little wisp of a girl. "Hell, you almost killed me, a student from Hogwarts. To be honest I had nightmares about you for months. You were vicious."

He especially hated to be reminded of his moment where he'd let his emotions get the better of him, hated that she would remind him that he's nearly killed a child. He snarled at her. "What's your point, exactly."

She looked up at him with bright eyes. "You can help me get revenge. I want to..." She bit her lower lip, clearly thinking about what she was going to say next. "I need to kill the people who killed my parents. They...deserve to suffer. My parents were innocents. The only problem is, well, I've never killed anyone before and I am sure to mess it all up if were to try it." She looked...eager, almost, excited at the prospect.

It was a complete change in her earlier demeanor, and it put Antonin on edge. She'd been so despondent and...it didn't seem right for a girl like Hermione Granger to be excited at the prospect of killing anyone. "You're drunk." He said, with a sneer, wondering for the first time why he hadn't just left this conversation already, carted her off to the Dark Lord and claimed whatever reward he would give him.

"Maybe." She conceded with a giggle, which seemed so utterly wrong coming from her mouth. "But I won't change my mind on this. Please, won't you just teach me how to perform the Avada Kedavra?" Even with her posh accent, she stumbled over the words of the killing curse.

Merlin, he thought, running a hand over his face. He couldn't believe that he was actually considering this.