Payback is a Witch

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 20 ~ A Bit of Plotting Going On

As Hermione approached the tent exit, she found herself block by Potions Master Vargas.

"Congratulations on your success, Mistress Granger," the wizard said, his gray eyes glittering down at the witch unpleasantly. "It seems you have proven me wrong about you."

Hermione looked up at the tall rotund wizard. She saw that his congratulations were not at all heartfelt. She thought about the two goons he had put on her at the Potions convention and scowled.

"I have a feeling you are wrong about a lot of things, Master Vargas. Most likely I am the least of them," she replied evenly, "Now if you will excuse me."

Master Vargas had watched the angry exchange between Hermione and Severus. He didn't know what it was about, but it was clear the witch had stalked off from him. Most likely they weren't close and the wizard was not always around the witch. Which meant that she didn't have his constant protection. Vargas caught Hermione by the arm.

"I was wondering if you might be interested in another business partner? I have even more resources than Master Snape," the wizard said, his eyes gleaming.

Hermione wrested her arm away.

"I am very aware how you operate, Master Vargas. Others may think you are above board, but I know you are a thug sir. I would never have you as a business partner. I probably wouldn't last the year," she spat at him.

The wizard gave her an ugly look.

"I can help you in our field. I can give you the recognition you desire." he said, his mouth twisted nastily. "All it would take is one word of acceptance from me and you will be instantly respected."

Hermione scowled at him.

"I prefer to earn respect based on my own merits, Master Vargas. I imagine today's demonstration has already afforded me recognition. Or it will shortly. In other words, Master Vargas, I don't need your help. In anything," the witch said.

Vargas was furious. The witch was so sure of herself. She was brilliant, but arrogant. She needed to be taken down a few pegs.

"You think yourself brilliant, don't you witch?" he seethed, "Well you aren't. You are very, very foolish. In this field, you need others, Mistress Granger. You don't go it alone."

"That's not what I've learned, Master Vargas. Most Potions Masters are very careful to work alone, to try and protect their work from being stolen," she said accusingly. "I happen to ascribe to that sentiment. Again, I do not need or want your assistance sir. Despite your warnings, I will go it alone."

"Alone is not a good way to be, Mistress Granger," the wizard said, his gray eyes hard. "Things happen to people who are 'alone.'

Hermione scowled at the wizard.

"Are you threatening me, Master Vargas?" she asked him.

The wizard gave her a nasty little grin.

"I don't threaten people, Mistress Granger. You are a bright witch. Think about my offer and if you don't contact me in a few days, I will most certainly contact you," the wizard said evenly.

"I don't need time to think about it. I… Hermione began, but the Potions Master strode away. She blinked after him, then shrugged.

Severus had already warned him off. Hermione believed the wizard was just trying to bully her because of her success and the perceived continuance of her successes.

The fact was, she would be a very rich witch in a few months and would need neither Severus nor Vargas to give her money for patents any longer. Plus, she was a Ministry employee. The only reason she could patent the Non-Magical Aisle was because it was a project she had started before getting hired by the Ministry. Anything she worked on from here on out was considered Ministry property. So she had nothing for Vargas to become involved in anyway, even if she were inclined to take up his offer…which she wasn't.

Hermione exited the tent and when she was clear of the grounds apparated for home. Once she arrived, she walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Suddenly she felt exhausted. Her thoughts immediately turned to Severus and the Switching potion. Hermione had never thought for an instant that the potion would be made available to the public because it could easily be used for evil purposes. Most likely the Ministry would use it for surveillance and spying. There might be special licensing for the medical field as well. Imagine, healers being able to enter the bodies of their patients and be able to identify their aches and ailments firsthand. But it would never do if there were residual connections. Damn. This meant much more research and study with other human subjects. Most likely prisoners from Azkaban.

The Ministry had started utilizing them years ago for experimentation and research, particularly those serving life sentences. If something went wrong, there was usually no outcry. Who missed a condemned criminal anyway? It was also a good way to cut down on overcrowding. Hermione shuddered a little. She had heard horror stories of prisoners that died from spells and potions. She hadn't done any research with them herself, but was going to have to sooner or later. Ah well. All for the sake of magic she supposed.

She wished she could use Severus as a subject for a really painful project. That rotten bastard. He used his connection to make sure he became her dream lover. How selfish was that? The worst part was she was so into the wizard, responded to him hungrily…it was as if she couldn't get enough of his kisses and caresses. He did meet a deep need in her on several levels…her dark need, and her need for closeness…for that kind of connection. He was right, he had been there with her, kept her close. It almost felt as if…as if he cared what she felt, how she felt beyond the sex. She should have known he was up to something.

Well, from now on she was going to keep the wizard at broom's length. She hoped he really enjoyed himself, because that was the last time he'd ever stick his cock in her. The absolute last time.

She'd find someone suitable after a while. Until she did, she'd just have to take the matter in hand.

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Vargas returned to his manor. Flapfoot, his house elf greeted him at the door, bowing deeply.

"Welcome home, Master," the elf squeaked.

Vargas looked at the elf with narrowed eyes and Flapfoot cringed. Master Vargas had a terrible temper, and sometimes after a very bad day, would beat him.

"Flapfoot, I want you to go find Jackson and Fletch and bring them to me. I need to talk to them immediately," the Potions Master said, removing his cloak.

Flapfoot wished the wizard would pass him his cloak just once, so he could leave the manor forever. But Vargas never did.

"Yes Master," the elf said, winking out.

Vargas strode through the great hall to his large study. It was filled with books, but the walls were covered with awards and a great number of trophies were set on pedestals, tables and shelves. Vargas liked to surround himself with his accomplishments, and any time he had guests, this was the room he brought them to so they could admire his accomplishments and of course, him.

Vargas walked over to his desk and opened a lower drawer filled with files. He leafed through them until he came to the "G" file, rifled through that and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was Hermione's registration for the convention and had her address on it. Vargas jotted it down, put the registration back in the drawer and closed it.

Address in hand, the wizard strode over to his liquor cabinet and fixed himself a cognac, then sat down in front of the fireplace, placed the address on the small table next to the armchair and stared into the flames as he thought about Hermione's discovery. Now there would be no way to halt further development in the curriculum of potions. Students would be required to study chemistry now, just to keep up with the times…which also meant he would have to study as well. He hadn't actually studied anything in years. He would also have to learn to use muggle technology. Vargas was so put out by this and by how much money Hermione and Severus would make, he broke the glass he was holding in his hand.

The wizard cursed and picked the glass out of his bleeding hand before pulling out his wand and healing it quickly. Then he scourgified his robes and the broken glass. This worsened his mood. Suddenly there was a knock on the study door.

"Come in," Vargas bellowed, his brows furrowed.

The door opened and in walked the two men that had followed Hermione at the potions convention. Jackson and Fletch, wizards for hire. This pair would do practically anything as long as the galleons were right. They walked around the armchair and stood in front of the fire and looked at the Potions Master..

"Got a job for us?" Jackson asked.

The short black-haired wizard rubbed the dark stubble on his square jaw as Fletch stood by silently, the firelight adding flickering highlights to his blonde hair.

Vargas' gray eyes flicked over them both for a moment.

"Yes I do. Remember the Potions Mistress I put you two on at the Potions convention?" he asked.

"The little curvy one?" Fletch inquired, a smirk on his face, "Yeah, I remember her all right. Nice little bird there. You want us to work her over?"

Vargas looked at Fletch with distaste.

"No. You are not to touch her. But I want you to break into her home, find any research you can, duplicate it and bring it to me. I want you to do this during the day, when she's at work," Vargas said, his eyes narrowed.

"Aw, what's the fun in that?" Fletch complained. He'd really like a go at Hermione.

"It is not meant to be fun, Fletch. I want her research. She works at the Ministry, so you can go to her house after nine in the morning on Monday. I expect that research in my hands Monday night," the wizard said, looking at both of them sternly. "And no advance this time. You crooks took galleons from me when you trailed her last time for less than ten minutes work. You'll get paid when you bring me what I want."

Fletch and Jackson looked at each other.

"All right Vargas…fair enough. Usual payment?" Jackson asked the wizard.

"Of course not. You aren't going to do anything to the witch, so the price should be less," Vargas said, his gray eyes glittering.

Jackson began to haggle. After about fifteen minutes they came to an agreement. Vargas handed them the piece of parchment off the small table.

"Here's her address," the wizard said. Both Fletch and Jackson memorized it and nodded.

"Got it," Fletch said.

He was still disappointed. He liked working over witches. It usually involved a good, hard raping. Well, maybe she'd be home and discover them…then she'd be fair game.

Vargas dismissed the two wizards.

"Don't get sticky fingers on your way out," Vargas warned them both, "Flapfoot has standing orders to hex you if you so much as breathe on anything I possess."

"Aw Vargas, you really think we'd steal from you?" Jackson said, his black eyes shifting over all the gold trophies.

"You'd steal from your own mothers you scallywags. Now, out of my manor. I will see you Monday night. Don't disappoint me," the wizard replied, rising to fix himself another cognac.

Jackson and Fletch left. Flapfoot was waiting outside the study for the disreputable wizards and followed them to the great doors. The elf warded the doors securely when they exited.

"Vargas really doesn't trust us," Fletch said to Jackson who looked at him.

"Would you?" Jackson asked his comrade.

"No," Fletch said with a wicked grin. "Mum still hasn't forgiven me for filching her wedding ring."

Both wizards laughed and disapparated.

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A/N: The plot thickens. Vargas is a sneaky old bastard. Jackson and Fletch sound like real winners (not). Well at least they aren't supposed to touch Hermione. If they do this right, she won't even know Vargas has her research. Please review.