Hermione Jean Granger watched as the morning breeze tickled the foam on her cappuccino. The soothing scent of coffee was perhaps one of mankind’s greatest discoveries.

She absently bit into her brown and white, checkered sandwich. The soft white bread, with the superb tomatoes, soft provolone, and the silky prosciutto.

Hermione let out a soft sigh as she finished chewing. The morning crowd of people returned to her senses as she returned to the world once more.

The cappuccino was softer here as well. Compared to her normal fare in jolly old England, Italy had a slightly different pace.

Busy in the morning. Dead in the afternoon. Lively in the evening. Relaxing as the night turned into midnight.

Which also included gelato.

Hermione practically drooled at the thought of the wonderful selection of dessert here.

A small crack caught her attention. As well as the attention of an Italian man that had been eyeing her for nearly half an hour. He looked over to where the sound had come from but quickly lost interest as he nursed his own cappuccino and nibbled at his scone.

He was attractive, she supposed, but a love life was far from interesting at the moment.

The man’s eyes widened as he eyed the new beauty plopping down beside her. She huffed as she reached for her own cappuccino that Hermione had ordered for her. A second, and third, checkered sandwiches were ready beside it.

In the time that it took for Hermione to finish the last third of her one sandwich, Susan had eaten two.

Hermione finished off her own food as she giggled at her partner’s hangry actions. The meeting must have been dreadfully annoying for her friend to simply gnash into the food.

Though the frizzy-haired witch couldn’t help but feel the ugly touch of jealousy. In the two decades they had known each other, Susan had grown from a chubby young girl to a rather voluptuous woman.

A voluptuous woman that could apparently intake twice the calories but maintain her figure. If she had increased her own intake by even ten percent, or an extra scone a day…

Then the results would show in her waistline within the month.

Susan drained her cup, and let out a belch that earned applause from the bartender and two other people. All of whom were inside the shop, behind other customers, and a large glass front.

Hermione raised her hands showed six fingers.

Susan sighed as she seemed to be off recently. She hadn’t seen seven in over a week now. Was the cheese weaker here in Italy? Hmmm…

Hermione smirked. She was cruel but fair. Susan hadn’t rattled a cup of coffee since they left France.

“New case, we should head over now,” Susan grumbled as a worker came out to take their dishes. This was the second murder this week.

Hermione nodded and asked for the bill in Italian.

Susan shook her head. It always amazed her, Hermione soaked up knowledge like one would drink soup. Some tasting, some chewing, and voila.

Hermione knew common words and phrases to use in the seventy countries they had touched since they took up the cursed job international law and order.

They both got up and ignored the man who tried to catch their attention. It was work time.

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The crack that announced their arrivals included warm welcomes like half a dozen wands in their faces as they landed.

They both flashed their badges, which took extra long as the unfamiliar captain on site seemed to sneer at them. The black and gold badges showcased their fancy titles. Special Auror Corpse.

Though Hermione always did dislike that name. SAC. Or a sack of shite depending on the day, and or person.

“So the famed British forces have arrived…” The captain drawled, as his sneer depend. “You are both late.”

The two girls shared a glance and shook both hands once.

Susan showed a four across her two hands. Hermione showed a three.

3.5 on the Sneering Snape Scale.

The captain looked confused for a moment, but they brushed past him. He had his orders and they had theirs.

Hermione made her way into a tiny home. It was half the size of her flat in London, which was already half the size of virtually any normal home.

If she wasn’t a witch, she would have been depressed at how small her home was. Instead, she lived in a place larger than the size of the apartment floor. Courtesy of a deluxe magic tent that had cost nearly a year’s pay.

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Which meant that this person lived in crap housing as Hermione had to duck to make her way into the living room, and then the bedroom.

Another three Aurors were inside. Which turned into six people with the captain.

The naked man sat on a simple wooden chair. His limbs were tied to the armrest and chair legs via barb wire. The enchanted wire twisted and turned. The sharp bits coiled around the man, loosening or tightening seemingly at random.

The man drooled but did not react to the sharp bits digging into him. Which made sense since a sixth of his head was missing. The left half which, if she was correct, was the logical half.

Her analytical side stared long and hard. The missing piece was almost perfectly cut out. You could see into the head perfectly. Which revealed the fatty brain of the remaining right half, and the optic nerves.

The exposed innards shimmered with blood, and cerebrospinal fluid seemed to move as normal, despite the missing chunk. All contained by what was probably a charm.

Say what you will, but the Dark Lord Potter had a sense of flair and style. Hermione watched as the local Aurors stared in horror at the man.

His eyes slowly moved, but he made no sound. He simply stared into the ether, his eyes were flat and dull.

Hermione spied the basin beneath the man was full of fecal matter and urine. Which was odd since there was no smell. The analytical part of her guessed that it was the effects of an odor charm.

Oh. There, on the side, was the missing chunk of head. How cute.

Susan moved forward, her wand in hand as she cast a Lumos. The man didn’t so much as twitch. His eyes still erratically moved about, as if he was tracing something.

Hermione frowned and waved Susan away. They didn’t want to prematurely trigger any surprises on the body. Harry could be very tricky when he wanted to be.

The witch took in a deep breath. Then she conjured her own seat and made sure they were both at eye level. Those wandering eyes stopped and then slowly focused on her.

Taking a second, deeper breath, and a firm oomph of magic, she used her legilimency and peered into the man’s mind.

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Water. She was floating. There was a sky. Blue. Dusk.

Hermione turned around, and she spun freely on the surface. There was nothing above or below. Just floating clouds and something swimming much deeper below.

Taking a breath, she allowed herself to relax in the waters. This was Harry’s handiwork. The man’s mind was gone. An imprint of a famous painting was in its place.

She lost track of time as the water became warm. Comfortable. If there were hidden dangers, like that which was swimming down in the dark, she was screwed.

She left herself open. Harry had decided that he would not harm her. She wasn’t sure why, but it had become something of a game between the two of them.

He would skip ahead, and she would follow.

Only those who participated in the DA club were given… leeway.

Out of all of them, only Ron and herself were immune to the dark actions of Dark Lord Potter.

The mass murders of various purebloods and dark arts supporters across Europe had been a massacre stretched across a decade and a half.

Bounty hunters. Sell-wands. Hitwizards and Hitwitches. They had tried and those body counts were in the hundreds.

Local Auror deaths were kept to a minimum, but they were definitely not unscathed.

Every trap. Every curse.

Only two were exempt from them all. Which skyrocket them into the unlucky heroes of SAC. If Harry showed up, then it was up to either of them to respond.

The world rumbled and Hermione found herself freefalling onto the exotic shores of a small town. The pastel-colored houses built into the side of a mountain.

Like a bird, she was suddenly gliding and the scenes below her shifted. She was whisked away to another town. Then another. Then another…

Cinque Terre. That was the name of the collection of towns showed before her.

Hermione screamed out the name of the location. The answer to the small riddles or questions Harry left for her with each victim.

Her voice echoed in the world and the leviathan emerged from the ocean and the world shattered into the darkness.

As her mind was forced out, the clue she needed revealed itself right before she felt the pop sound that echoed into her own mind.

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Susan hugged her partner. Hermione was coughing as the magic of the trap, a voodoo based curse, washed over them without harm.

All four local Auror’s began to throw up into the closest section of the wall. The intent gave them a sense of what was most likely going to happen if they had foolishly acted on their own. To begin with, they would have clawed out their own eyes.

The dark intent was thick and heavy. It smelled of blood, which scared her. She knew what it meant.

The last time she smelt something like this was a year ago in South Africa. A local voodoo priest ripped out his own heart and ate it. Then exploded into flames.

The man’s screams still haunted her dreams some nights.

“Please…” a hoarse voice whispered.

Everyone snapped their attention to the victim. The man was moving. Each twitch spilled blood from his gaping wound. The barbed wire was now burrowing into his body and blood was freely filling the basin below.

A trail of tears spilled from his left eye. His eye brimmed with horror as he was once again awake. His right eye was now frozen.

It took her a moment to remember that each eye was attached to the opposite side of the brain. He was missing the corresponding piece.

“Please… Please…” the man mumbled as he tried to lock eyes with her again.

Hermione ignored it as she made her way forward. The reactive magic had tasted hers and instead of turning them all inside out, it had simply dumped the dark intent into the air to forcefully dispel it.

Which meant that everyone in the room had also tasted the curse in return.

Hermione used the simple if primitive, counter curse on bound individuals. The sound of something shattering filled the air.

Hermione then put her wand to the man’s temple. With a grunt of concentrated effort, she pulled out a thick rope of memories.

Susan held out a large vail and caught the memories with practiced eased. She quickly stored the thing away so that the think tank could see what evil shit this man had done to earn Harry’s hate.

“Please… Pl-urk!” the man violently shuddered.

Susan, and then, Hermione reacted quickly, leaping away as the wet sounds of something dropping into water echoed in the tiny room.

They all watched as the man’s intestines began to slide out. Followed by his other organs.

The man screamed as the chair revved up, a machine-like sound filling the room.

Within ten whole seconds, the man was devoured by the chair and turned into a meat pulp as three full layers of wooden teeth had simply grown of the chair, enlarged, and then ground him up with deadly efficiency.

As a cherry on top, the man’s only good eye sat on the pile, staring up and into the heavens beyond.

Two of the Aurors passed out, and the other two began to dry heave.

The two witches stared at each other.

There was no excessive blood splatter. It was very cruel and violent. Lots of shock value.

“Lovegood?” Susan asked as she tucked away her wand into its holster.

“Lovegood,” Hermione agreed as she did the same.

Both girls shuddered as they could easily see the frail-looking witch set everything up with a smile and a clear explanation to the victim of his grisly fate.

Harry murdered with precision. A surgeon’s knife, or a keen-edged sword.

Luna murdered with a smile. A pink, frilly chainsaw of death.

Leaving the locals to clean up, the two witches apparated away.