Soooo this is my latest story and it'll be a long one! I have the first 100,000 words already finished and will be posting a chapter every day or so when I have time. Since they're just in a big long document on my computer, it takes time to go through, separate it into chapters, and double space everything. Anyway, enjoy! And don't forget to read and review :)

Also, I should clarify that I began writing this before the seventh book came out, so as the story progresses, you'll see how I decided to write Voldemort's demise.

"Granger!" Gary said, using his best puppy-dog look. "Can you please file this paperwork on the latest criminals that the Hunters dropped off? I won't be able to do it tonight!"

Hermione Granger looked up from her desk in the Auror branch of the Ministry of Magic and sighed. "What will you be doing?" she asked, a bit exasperated. This was not the first time that this had happened.

"I'm going on a raid with Harry Potter," said Gary excitedly, his sandy hair ruffled. "We have to leave now, so I won't get the time to do the papers."

Gary Saunders was a year younger than Hermione, yet even he had done more fieldwork than Hermione had in the two years that she had been working under her best friend, who, quite simply, did not want Hermione in any danger. Paperwork seemed to be all that she was given to do.

"Sure, Gary," said Hermione finally. After all, it wasn't his fault that Harry was overprotective of her. Plus, it's not as if she had anything better to do that night. Gary's blue eyes it up and he hugged her tightly.

"Thank you so much!" Gary praised, leaving the room after handing her the file on the latest criminals that the Hunters had brought in. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she read the name under the "Apprehended By:" section. The Hunters.

The Hunters were a group of vigilantes that had surfaced after Hermione's seventh year at Hogwarts, and after Lord Voldemort had been defeated. They went after former Death Eaters and criminals, attacking them and then leaving them at the Ministry, bound and gagged, with their wands in a bundle beside them. No one really knew how the name Hunters had come about. Whether that was what they called themselves or what people called them, the Hunters was now the group's name.

The Hunters were causing quite a conflict in the Ministry, because while they did bring in wizarding criminals, their methods were crude and thuggish, and oftentimes, the felons accused the Hunters of using the Cruciatus Curse on them, though there was never any proof. While there was not much public outcry about arresting them, the Ministry of Magic did have principles to uphold. The Aurors felt similarly. They resented the Hunters for thinking that they were higher than the law, and Hermione was no exception to that thought. She was twenty one years old and had been working as an Auror for two years. Her best friend, Harry Potter, had risen quickly through the ranks; due to several lucky coincidences and stellar grades on his practical performance, he was now the head of the Aurors.

The only problem with working under Harry, as Hermione had been for most of those two years, was that Harry was reluctant to send her on raids, or indeed, to let her do any kind of field work. She had come much too close to death in that final battle, and Harry was overprotective to the point of insanity. Hermione Granger had spent almost all of her time as an Auror filing paperwork, which was a blatant misuse of her intelligence and bravery. Still, it seemed she had no other recourse than to bug him about it once or twice a week. Perhaps today would be her lucky day.

Hermione muttered a charm and a silvery figure burst forth from the end of her wand, trotting out of her cubicle. Moments later, Harry Potter walked in.

"Hey, Hermione," he greeted her. "Need something?"

"What do I have to do to get you to let me go out on one of the raids?" she asked him bluntly. "I didn't become an Auror to just sit back and write out papers all the time!"

Harry sighed, having had this conversation before. "Hermione, I just don't want to lose you. Have you forgotten how you almost died when Ron did?"

"I'm not a little child," said Hermione fiercely. "It's not your job to protect me!"

"Fine," Harry said suddenly. "You want an assignment? I'm giving you this one: bring me the leader of the Hunters—you're familiar with that group, I'm sure—and you can go on the next raid that pops up."

Hermione's face lit up. "Great!" she exclaimed. "Got any leads yet?"

"Nope, that's for you," said Harry, leaving the room feeling pretty pleased with himself. The Hunters were too good at hiding; there was no way that Hermione would get anywhere near their leader.

Once Harry had left, Hermione felt like slapping him. He wasn't really giving her a fair chance, since even the most junior Aurors always received a case file with background information on their targets. But she would manage—she would get this so-called leader. She began with several contacts she had made over the years.

"Do you know anything about the Hunters?" she asked a dirty man with a pipe in his mouth. When the man made no reply, Hermione said threateningly, "Come on, Mundungus, you'll get ten years for those stolen cauldrons I know you have hidden inside that overcoat."

Mundungus Fletcher dropped the pipe in his agitation and replied hastily, "I don't know nothing about the Hunters, but Lenny Cyding might. They got him last week."

It then became apparent that Hermione was going to have to make a trip to Azkaban to talk to the prisoners there who had been brought in by the Hunters.

"The Hunters?" said the thin man with missing teeth. "Them is some scary people, that's fer sure."

"Yes, but did you see any of their faces?" Hermione asked impatiently, beginning to become frustrated with the lack of help she was receiving from everyone.

"Nope, but the one they all took orders from sure was strong—I think he was a blonde."

All of the other interviews went similar to this, although the description of the man she was looking for varied from tall and lean to short and fat, and the hair color changed from person to person. That, combined with the dreary atmosphere from all the dementors, made for a very depressing day.

By her second day on the case, Hermione was back at square one. She lay in her bed inside her small apartment, wondering how on earth she was going to make contact with the Hunters. Then it came to her: the only people who had met the Hunters were criminals. So if she pretended to commit a crime…perhaps the Hunters would come to her. Then it would be a simple matter of finding their leader and arresting him.

As a result of this idea, Hermione found herself in Knockturn Alley hours later, talking with an ugly old man about how tight the security at Borgin and Bourke's was. She took pains to make sure that she was talking loud enough for any passersby to hear, hoping that a member of the Hunters would be informed.

"Hypothetically of course, who would be easier to take down, Borgin or Bourke?" she asked loudly, not troubling to keep her voice down.

"Borgin," said the seedy man, his eyes focused on the flesh revealed by the modest V-neck of Hermione's shirt. "He's smaller and less cautious. He works from seven p.m. to seven a.m."

"Thank you, sir," said Hermione demurely, resisting the urge to add pervert onto that sentence.

At seven o'clock that night, Hermione waited for Bourke to leave and Borgin to show up. As the two men changed shifts, Hermione prepared to enter the store. If her plan failed and none of the Hunters showed up, she would just pretend to be interested in some Dark artifact. She certainly wasn't going to actually rob the place. She had just stood up from her hiding place behind the trash cans when a piece of metal came down hard on the back of her head. She was down with one blow, not even getting a chance to draw her wand.

When Hermione came to, she was blindfolded and gagged, tied to sort of chair or bench. She tried to shift around and noticed that her hands were tied behind her. Her wand was no longer in her pocket. She heard breathing.

"Finally awake, are we? You're quite a pathetic criminal, broadcasting your crimes through town. How many people were with you to rob that store?" a cold male voice asked her. It came from somewhere behind her. Hermione tried to answer, but the heavy cloth in her mouth restricted her words.

"Waddiwasi!" snapped the person, and the gag shot out of her mouth. "Answer," he spat.

Hermione licked her lips nervously. "No one; I was alone."

This was not how Hermione had pictured her raid going; she was supposed to have overpowered whatever Hunter had come after her and then commanded him to take her to his leader.

"Yes," said the person quietly, answering the whispered question of another man. A hand slapped Hermione hard in the face and she cried out with the shock and force of it. "Tell the truth."

"Who are you? Where am I" she asked. "And I was telling the truth."

"You're currently a guest of the Hunters. Now, why would a girl like you want to rob a place like that? And all by yourself?"

Hermione knew that she couldn't say she was an Auror; Merlin only knows what they would do to her! She clammed up and wouldn't answer another question, which infuriated her interrogator.

"Do you know what will happen if you don't start talking?" the person asked in a quiet, deadly voice. When Hermione didn't answer, he continued. "I'll give you to my men to do what they want with you."

Hermione visibly flinched at this. What kind of depravity would she be subjected to? The person noticed and went on. "And when they are finished—if you are alive by that time—I will drop you off at the Ministry for them to deal with."

"I haven't done anything wrong," Hermione informed him haughtily, her voice strong despite the first twinge of fear

"Robbery is a crime, scum. Just because you didn't get to go through with it doesn't mean you're any better than a thief."

"You have no proof," said Hermione stubbornly, wrenching at her restraints.

"But here's the thing," the person said nonchalantly. "We don't care about proof. You can have her," he said, presumably to the person who had slapped Hermione before.

Hermione's hands were unbound and she was thrown over the shoulder of a man who felt very burly and strong. She let out a shriek as she was carried away, and the man who was holding her said gruffly, "Oh, I love a screamer!"

The leader of the Hunters put his head in his hands as he watched Marcus carry the girl away. She looked so familiar, though with the blindfold and dim lighting he couldn't tell who she was. He hated it when the Hunters captured females, particularly because then he would be besieged by requests from his men to "interrogate" them. And besides, people in the Ministry would be much more inclined to arrest the Hunters if they were going around using Unforgivables on women. But, criminals were criminals, no matter what the gender.

Of course, Marcus was on strict orders not to actually hurt the girl, but to threaten her until she spoke. All the leader needed from the girl was to know who her companions were—and she had to have had some, because she wouldn't try to rob a store owned by experienced Dark Wizards by herself—and then he would release her to the Ministry of Magic. Having all of the culprits in a crime was very important to the leader of the Hunters. He loathed leaving things unfinished.

Hermione was thrown down on a stone floor and her head hit hard, nearly knocking her out again.

"Now…where to start?" said the man; his voice was different than the other man's—his was deeper and more guttural. If Hermione could hazard a guess, she would say that he was black. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" He began listing obscene things ranging from sexual injury to physical torture.

Hermione remained silent. Other than a slight paleness to her face, there was no other sign that Marcus was bothering her with his threats.

Marcus was getting worried—the girl wasn't giving up any information. Most female prisoners would have cracked by now. He was not allowed to hurt her visibly, and the severity of her attempted crime was not great enough to warrant the use of the Cruciatus curse.

Hermione promised herself that no matter what they did to her, she would not say a word. She would prove to herself that she was strong enough to endure whatever might come. But then she felt strong, large hands tighten on the waistband of her black jeans. One hand slipped inside her pants and gripped her underwear. Hermione remained still, though she bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed. She wasn't going down without a fight, but she would wait until she had an opportunity to attack. Being blindfolded and bound was putting her at a severe disadvantage.

"Are you going to give up who your companions were, or shall I go through with this?" the man asked, leaning down close to speak in Hermione's face. His breath smelled like beef jerky and she nearly gagged. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that this was her chance.

Hermione pulled her legs up and launched upward at where the man's groin must be. She heard him cry out in pain before his fist connected solidly with her cheek and she knew no more.