Informants

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Sirius looked relieved that she was even willing to hear him out. "We've got someone who's agreed to be a confidential informant for us," he explained, his previously playful persona evaporating once it was time to get serious. "But, the catch is... he's only agreed to do it on the condition that he be able to pick his handler."

Hermione was confused about his line of reasoning. Obviously, he was asking her to be the handler, but just who would know to request her by name? Understanding began to rapidly sink in. There could really only be one person who would do that. "No, absolutely not! Sirius!" Hermione said, standing up and pacing back and forth nervously in her cubicle.

She couldn't even stand the thought of coming face to face with Fenrir again after the way that they had left things. It had been months, but there was no way that he wasn't furious with her for how she'd betrayed him.

"Hermione," Sirius begged, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

"It's out of the question!" she hissed, still wondering how he had the audacity to ask her something.

"Come on," he countered, trying to reassure her. "Greyback will only talk to you specifically. He won't work with anyone else. And we really need him to flip on Voldemort. We are so close to taking him down for good this time."

"Have you stopped to consider why he might be asking for me?" she asked him, trying not to sound too hysterical. "I helped him launder money and then set him up to get taken down. I am sure that the only reason he wants to get to me is to kill me!" She started to get a little bit light headed, thinking of some possible reunion with the large man.

Hermione thought that she'd seen the last of Fenrir Greyback when he'd been arrested, using information that she'd provided as an Undercover officer. But now, he was back and he was asking for her specifically. Sequel to Undercovers.

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Undercovers

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"Look at her," Fenrir said with amusement clear in his voice. "She looks like a little kitten, all angry and ready to sink her claws into me."

"She would appreciate it if you didn't talk about her like she wasn't standing right here," Hermione sniped at him, raising her jaw in defiance at his attitude. With her arms crossed over her chest and her hip out to one side, she rather felt like she was telling off Harry or Ron, not a seasoned criminal.

The smirk dropped from his face at the pushback. "You look ridiculous in that leather jacket," he said, his voice dangerous and low. "Did you think you'd score points with me if you came here wearing it?"

"Just wanted to look the part," Hermione countered with a sneer on her face. Curse Sirius! She knew that she shouldn't have trusted him for fashion advice. She gave Remus a little glare before returning her glaze to Greyback. "Didn't realize that a drug dealer expected me to show up in a blazer, skirt and heels."

For a moment, he just stared at her with a dark look in his eyes, his hands resting on the table in front of him. She stared down at those large hands, one or two tattoos peeking out from the sleeve of his cuffed button-down shirt, and wondered if she had already made a terrible miscalculation. It wouldn't be much bother at all for him to strangle the life right out of her with those, she thought. Then, he threw his head back and laughed.

Suddenly, it became very clear to Hermione that he very much enjoyed riling her up.

"I like how fierce you are," he said, still chuckling heartily. Remus was glaring at her from his spot opposite of Fenrir, trying to remind her with his eyes that she'd promised to do whatever it was that Fenrir said to her. Hermione suddenly felt very proud of herself, not being meek or backing down. She'd already made an impression on him. "But, maybe I ought to check you for a wire, just to be safe. Jacket off," he demanded, suddenly sounding more serious.

It had been an easy decision to join up with the financial crimes division, investigating money laundering and the like. But, she was meant to be kept tucked behind a desk, not trying to infiltrate a notorious gang to help them launder their money. Hermione goes undercover in Fenrir Greyback's gang to catch him doing something illegal, not to catch feelings.

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Chapter Eleven

The only problem was the stupid little motorbike that Sirius had loaned to her. Apparently, he'd gotten it when he was a teenager and used it extensively in his twenties. It was a good, zippy little bike that would help her get around town, though she wouldn't attempt to visit Harry and Ron with it. But, it had its limits. Two blocks to be exact.

She called Sirius to complain about it. "How long has it even been in storage?" she demanded. "It barely can run two blocks before it stops. But then if I wait a while, it will start up again."

"It's been a while," Sirius agreed. "But it's nothing that a mechanic can't fix up, I'm sure."

"How am I even going to get the dumb thing to a mechanic? I'm not paying to have it towed somewhere," she insisted.

"It's a good thing that there is a mechanic two blocks from your flat. I'm looking at the directory right now," he teased. "You can ride it sputtering in. Then they'll be sure to fix it up."

"I don't know if it's even worth it. Falmouth is very walkable," she answered, pressing a hand to her forehead, wondering how much it was going to cost her.

"Look, just bring it in," Sirius's voice answered, with his barking laugh. "And send me the bill afterwards."

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Chapter Ten

When she showed up, she was shocked at how hectic things were. People were running around every which way and the office was way more packed than it usually was. In fact, it seemed like everyone was actually in the office that day — only serving to make her more salty, seeing as she hadn't been included in the memo apparently. It was a cacophony of voices and Hermione really wasn't sure what had actually happened, unable to discern the details from the excited voices.

It wasn't until she literally ran into Ron that she got an understanding of what was happening. He grabbed onto her shoulders and pressed a big kiss to her forehead, his grin as wide as she'd ever seen. "We arrested them all last night!" he practically shouted at her. "Riddle tried to run away and Harry — I can't fucking believe it — Harry, he chased him down and cuffed him himself!"

Hermione felt a sigh of relief leave her body when she heard the Riddle was finally behind bars and hopefully this time he wouldn't be getting away. After all, she was pretty sure that she'd built an airtight case against him. And she was thrilled for Harry, too. He was probably over the moon at having his first field mission go so well.

"You said his associates, too?" Hermione asked, wanting to get as many details as she possibly could. "Do you remember who all it was?"

"Oh you know, the usual suspects," Ron said, obviously still flying high from the adrenaline of the day. "Lestrange, Lestrange and Lestrange. Erm, Malfoy, and Nott, I think."

"No Dolohov?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. She wasn't sure if she wanted Antonin to be arrested or not. Of course, she knew that he'd broken the law and he needed to be, but he had become a friend — an odd one, but a friend nonetheless. "No... no Greyback?" she added, wetting her lower lip.

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Chapter Nine

When she woke up that morning, her head on Fenrir's chest, she knew that it must be the day that the final balance was released into Tom's account and they would finally be free of this nonsense.

Fenrir was already awake, too, his fingers tracing up the bare length of her spine. His gaze was heavy and significant on her face, like he was trying to capture every little detail.

Hermione scrunched her nose up, feeling like she was being examined. "We should get up," Hermione said, though she didn't want to go anywhere else with how he was touching her. "Antonin will be expecting us."

But it seemed that he had other plans. Without preamble, he rolled her over until she was flat on her back and he was cradled between her spread thighs. He used his hand to caress the side of her face, his gaze intense as ever. "Let me have you, just one last time," he whispered, before catching her lips in a kiss.

She giggled to herself, returning the kiss eagerly. "You know that you aren't going to be able to get rid of me, even when this is over, right?" she asked.

"Still," he said, staring down at her like she might disappear if he blinked.

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Chapter Eight

Hermione left, fighting to keep a smile off of her face. She was happy to give Fenrir and Antonin a bit of time together, seeing as they were still friends. Looking at Luna's artwork, there was no denying that it was striking. She stopped in front of one canvas that caught her eye, though she couldn't say why. Tilting her head, she looked at the empty space where the white canvas was still visible behind the red paint.

Someone came to stand next to her. "Miss Granger, it's a pleasure to see you again," Tom Riddle's voice greeted her.

Taking a calming breath, Hermione turned to look at his profile. He was very attractive in a dark grey wool suit. "You aren't in disguise tonight, Mr. Riddle," she said, pursing her lips together. "It's a pleasure to meet you officially."

It wasn't really a pleasure. Hermione wished that she could be just about anywhere else. If there was one person that she really wished she never crossed paths with again, it was undoubtedly the extremely dangerous Tom Riddle, who seemed to hold the whole entire country in his palm. She had no doubt of what would happen to her if she would slip up and reveal to him who she really was.

"You can't fault me for my subterfuge," he answered, smirking at her. "I like to get a first impression of someone without them knowing who I am. I get to see who they really are under all the falsity, when they think I am just a nobody."

"And what did you find out about me?" she asked, wondering what it was about her that made him take a second look.

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Chapter Seven

Fenrir snorted. "Sorry if I find that hard to believe," he countered, shaking his head furiously. "I knew that you were too good to be true and I should have listened to my instincts."

"It's not like I asked for any of this either. I'm not an undercover cop. Not really anyway. I'm just a forensic accountant. For real — I sit at a screen all day and read spreadsheets," she said, feeling her own anger welling up inside of her that he was too willing to attach malicious thoughts to her. "I wasn't trained to do any of this. I didn't know how to handle it if a target became interested in me!"

He laughed bitterly and shook his head. "Well, it didn't take you long to use it against me," he said, hurt in his blue eyes.

"It wasn't like that," she swore. "Sirius said to... Sirius said to lean into it, if it happened. Besides, why were you even working with me in the first place? I saw your books. You didn't even have a need for an accountant."

Fenrir flashed her a grin, righting himself. "Guilty as charged," he agreed, unabashedly. "Do you think that I'd have gotten as far as I did if I didn't know my fair share about money laundering?"

"So why did you take me on then?" she asked, unwilling to break their eye contact.

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Writing Update

Going to try to do these a little differently from now on... I'll probably just edit and then reblog moving forward. Here is the update as of November 2024:

I’d love to hear if you have any of these you are really looking forward to 💕 Or, are there any pairings that you have been missing?

You can see what was completed since last time below the cut:

Chapter Three

He was always gruff with her, commanding that everything would be easier with a bit of rum between them. Hermione hated feeling like she was waiting hand and foot on him, but she would oblige and return from the kitchen with a glass in hand for each of them.

It took Fenrir a few minutes to decompress. He would drop his head back between sips of rum, letting his eyes close and the stress fade away. She knew that he must carry some nerves about what he was doing — betraying Tom Riddle and Antonin and everyone else that he'd built a connection with — even if it was the only way that he could live moving forward. She knew the feeling well enough herself.

So that's why she didn't kick up too much of a fuss when he asked for a drink.

She liked to watch his face during this time, in the beginning before all of the details came spilling out of his mouth and they were trading snide quips back and forth — too much left unsaid between them. He was just as striking as she remembered, with his deep blue eyes and stubble on his cheeks. She longed to trace her finger across his face, cataloging every detail so that she would not forget the side Fenrir she knew before she hurt him.

Sometimes she wondered if she made the first move, if she kissed him, could all be forgiven?

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Chapter Two

When her mind was made up, she met his eyes again and found him leering at her. "Is this what you normally wear?" he asked, gesturing to her white and black polka dot blouse, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "It certainly fits your persona better than a leather jacket."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but answered his challenge with a smile. "Sirius picked out that jacket and I still wear it today... just not to work," she explained, triumphantly.

"And I suppose he's not really your Uncle either?" he asked, amused.

She smirked. "No, I was quite pleased to have come up with that one on the fly," she replied. "My, 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... just to make sure that you aren't simply spying on us for Riddle's benefit."

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Chapter One

"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking at Sirius, unimpressed. He was sitting in her chair, his feet draped across her desk, not caring that he was disturbing the carefully constructed stacks of paper that she had left there.

God, it was far too early in the morning for Sirius Black to be looking quite so smug with himself. Even more suspicious, he had no reason to be darkening the finance department at all. The last time he'd done so, it had been when he strong armed her into going undercover the first time

"Aw, don't sound so irritated, kitten," he cooed at her, leaning further back in her chair and lacing his hands behind his head. Clearly, he had no intention of leaving. "Can't I visit my favorite niece? I miss seeing your beautiful face."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that no good could come from him referencing their imagined familial connection. He only did that when he wanted something from her. She set her bag on the floor next to her desk and leaned against the partitioned wall . "Really? That was the best you could come up with?" she asked, feeling a tendril of amusement wind through her.

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Chapter Twenty-Five

When she met the other man's green eyes, he was looking at her strangely. It was enough to make a shiver run up the length of her spine. "Hermione?" he breathed out, his face searching for any hint of what she was really about to say.

"Yes, Remus?" she answered, after a beat of silence.

"We spent a long time searching the warehouse. That's part of the reason why it took so long for us to get to you," he said, his voice soft. "It seems like... like Fenrir had two sets of books. We could only find the books that were set up as his legitimate business."

Hermione swallowed and stood up a little bit straighter. She had warned Fenrir to keep two sets of books, but she had never realized that he'd actually taken her advice on the matter. In fact, it seemed like he had blown her off at the time. It had rankled, because it seemed like he wasn't taking her seriously. And... she knew that keeping only one set of books would certainly be his downfall. "Oh?" she asked, though she could hear the crack in her voice. "That was smart of him."

"You didn't have anything to do with that, did you, Hermione?" Remus asked, taking a step closer, until there was barely any space between them. "Fenrir never kept two sets of books before... before you came around. Before you got his ear."

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Chapter Twenty-Three

"So, what does Fenrir think of all this... you trying to leave at all that?" Daphne asked, after a while.

"Oh, we haven't really talked about it yet," Hermione said, looking down at her lap. "I've sort of been putting it off. Because, now that I'm done, well, there isn't much point in me sticking around and well... I don't really want to leave."

There it was. She finally said it out loud. She didn't want to leave this strange little world that she had carved out with Fenrir. It was illegal, yes, but she found herself not particularly caring when Fenrir was involved. Or maybe it was just because she knew that she couldn't face any real life consequences from it. She wasn't the one that had a jail sentence on the line.

"So don't," Daphne said, like it was the easiest thing in the whole entire world.

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Chapter Twenty-One

The music was less intense back here and the lighting not so garish. They stopped in front of one of the largest booths, where they found Astoria pressed up tightly with Draco Malfoy, his arm hung around her shoulders. Hermione scoffed, seeing the man who'd been such an annoyance to her over the last few weeks, lapping up the attention, with his shirt unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest.

At least he still had the remnants of a shiner on the left side of his face, where Rabastan had managed to connect a pretty solid punch. Malfoy's fair colored skin was still colored an odd purple, though the edges were already going yellow. He'd probably have it for another week or too.

Hermione slid into the opposite side of the booth. "Malfoy," she greeted him with half a smirk. "How's the face?"

"Granger," he answered, already slurring his words. "At least my face will go back to its usual facade. You'll have to deal with that mug for the rest of your life."

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Chapter Twenty

He shook his head, chuckling a little bit. "At this point, Peach, I pretty much just see you as an extension of myself," he said, offhand. Hermione stilled, her eyes snapping to his, wide and amazed. "You are a part of me," he added, teasing.

Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the statement, certain that she must be reading more into it than he truly meant. She knew that Fenrir was interested in her, but was it really possible that Fenrir saw more with her? "Oh, surely you don't mean it that way," she said, trying to give him an out, but her voice came out like a desperate whine.

"Why don't you come over here, and let me show you exactly how I mean it," he challenged her, his voice gravelly and full of promise.

And Hermione took the bait. Standing, she set down the stack of bills and made her way around the desk until she was standing between Fenrir's spread thighs. She felt powerful and sexy when she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat, clearly taken aback by her bold move. Licking her lower lip in nervousness, she was thrilled to see his blue eye glued to her lips. Neither one of them had any thoughts of the counting they had left to do, all thoughts of work ethic out of the window. No, there was only one thing on either of their minds.

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