Chapter 2392 - Ch: 12

Chapter 12: On the Fly

10:30pm, Tuesday, 30 July

The Burrow

A deep sigh escaped from Hermione's lips as she pulled her ear away from the inside of the bedroom door.

"All clear?" Fleur asked.

"I think so."

"So, why don't we get packing?"

Hermione shook her head. "We should wait. There might be bed checks before midnight."

Fleur muttered. "Are you certain that we can't force sleep potions down their throats?"

Her roommate sighed. "And what would happen if there was an attack after we left? How would Molly and Arthur be able to defend themselves, or Ron and Ginny? Best we stick to the Somnus spell."

"Yes, yes we mustn't discount the possibility, however remote," Fleur said with a sigh. She smiled, and decided, "Then let us pretend to make ready for bed, and I will comb out your hair."

The two witches stripped off their Molly-approved summer weight robes and Molly-approved undergarments and tossed them into the clothes hamper. They then each slipped on colorful yukata-style robes that Molly definitely would not have approved of…the silk fabric was thin enough to define areolar perimeters, and the hemlines were short enough to prove the absence of knickers whenever they bent over.

Hermione dragged a chair in front of the full-length mirror, took a seat, and closed her eyes. Fleur noticed the pensive look on her roommate's face and asked if something was wrong. Hermione cocked her head as if she was listening to something, then shook her head and replied, "Crookshanks is with Harry, broadcasting a wild mix of emotions… anxiousness and excitement, some lust…mostly anger, though, coming from the both of them."

"Anger?" Fleur asked. "What is Harry angry about?"

"It's hard to put the emotions into words," Hermione admitted.

"Give it a try?"

Hermione glanced back over her shoulder towards the bedroom door. The corner of lips curled into a smile as Fleur pushed her head back into place so that she could continue her combing.

"Honestly," Hermione growled (in a tone of voice that vaguely resembled her boyfriend's). "That fucking bitch needs to be pulled back into fucking reality by her husband already. How old are Bill and Charlie again? It is none of her goddamn business what her full grown adult sons are doing…especially in the privacy of their own homes!"

"I agree!" Fleur giggled.

"And the fact that the psychobitch is actually intending to make her clock changes permanent so that she can keep track of not just her children's love lives, but ours, as if it was her God given right? Holy shit, I just want to punch her!"

"Me too!" Fleur agreed.

"And on the way out, we ought to blow that fucking clock to tiny shreds and use Fiendfire on the remains to make sure it can't be fixed, that harpy needs to learn to keep her fat nose out of the personal lives of everyone around her!"

"That would be a memorable exit," Fleur noted.

"So here is another idea…add yet another alarm setting to the clock. We'll call it Being A Nosy Bitch. Molly's hand wouldn't budge from there, and the fact that she won't ever be able to hear herself think again should teach her a lesson or two!"

The burst of laughter that pushed up from Fleur's belly was so intense that she had to abandon the comb mid-stroke and clutch her sides.

Hermione's shushing was ignored.

"Incredible!" the French witch finally said. "I thought you said it was difficult to put Harry's emotions into words?"

A sheepish grin grew on Hermione's face.

"Well…," she admitted. "I might have been a little…creative…in giving voice to his anger."

Fleur grinned. "A little?"

Hermione just smiled.

"So what is Monsieur Crookshanks so unhappy about?" Fleur asked. "He does not yet have a clock hand of his own, no?"

"Don't give Little Miss Nosy Bitch any ideas!"

"Sorry."

"That's okay," said Hermione. "Crooks would just as soon stay here in Devon with his harem of barnyard felines."

"Ah, that makes sense," said Fleur. "But he should not worry… I am certain that there will be French cats just as eager to join his harem. In fact, if we make it there, I will make the arrangements myself!"

"Careful, he might hold you to that promise," said Hermione.

Fleur shrugged as she pulled the comb away from her roommate's slightly tamer hair and touched her shoulder.

"Well, it certainly was an eventful day, no?" she asked. "Did you enjoy your stay at the Cogfir Inn?"

The Muggleborn rolled her eyes.

"We did not stay at the Cogfir Inn."

"Why do you wish to deny this, Hermione?" Fleur asked. "Molly's clock…it did not lie, no?"

"Not according to Molly's logic…we decided that we could have been snogging dressed in anoraks and she'd still have insisted that we were fornicating."

"I see," Fleur replied. "Very ingenious. And perceptive. And yet…very disappointing."

A chuckle escaped from Hermione's lips.

"Actually…it was still brilliant."

"So it was more than kissing in anoraks, then?"

"Oh, yes." Hermione purred.

"How far did you two go?"

"Let's just say that we….well, we enjoyed the Inn's tea service."

Fleur giggled. "Really?" she asked. "How much milk did Harry add to your tea?"

"Hush!"

"And did your lover play with your luscious teacakes?"

"I'm so not going there!"

"Why not?" Fleur asked. "You do not wish to compare notes, and hear how my breasts became grass-stained on the front lawn?"

"Nope."

"What a shame," Fleur pouted. "So at least tell me…the room at the Cogfir Inn…it is booked, no?"

Hermione's blush was more than enough response.

"I will take that as a yes," Fleur replied brightly. "And did Harry make a deposit on this room reservation? Or was his deposit made on something…or someone…else?"

Hermione pulled her head away from Fleur's comb and stood.

"Enough of this," she decided. Hermione then slipped off her thin robe and slipped naked under her covers.

"Nude?" Fleur asked.

"It's just another night at the Burrow, right?" Hermione asked. "Haven't worn that itchy monstrosity of a nightgown before, not going to start now."

"Bon!" Fleur declared, as she stripped down and crawled naked under her own set of covers. She dimmed the lights, rested her head against her pillow, and said, "Sweet dreams of cake-sharing and taking tea with loads of milk, ma Cherie!"

Hermione threw a pillow towards her roommate and hissed, "Hush, you!"

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione wished that her French roommate hadn't honored this request.

"Fleur?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"You don't have to stop teasing me, you know."

"You don't mind?"

"It kept me distracted, at least."

"Distracted from what?"

"From worrying about my parents."

Fleur sighed. "They will be fine, Hermione. Perhaps Bill will bring back word of their safe arrival."

The younger witch drew her wand and cast a Tempus charm. "He won't leave for another forty-five minutes, though."

Fleur pulled back her covers, swung her legs off the side of the bed, and reached for her dressing gown.

"Come, then," she said. "Let us busy ourselves with another check for tracking charms."

Hermione slipped out of her own bed and retrieved her own scandalously-short dressing gown. "That will keep your mind busy, at least," she declared. "I'll just be watching you cast the detection spells."

"Then I will continue to tease you about cakes and milk," Fleur decided. "Unless you would rather think about new ways of expressing your anger towards Molly and her clock?"

"Something more than punching Little Miss Nosy Bitch in her big fat nose?"

"I thought that was Harry's idea," Fleur said coyly. "I am certain that you could be much more creative."

An evil grin formed on Hermione's face as she helped her roommate spread their possessions out for the check.

"Oh, I might be able to think of a thing or two," she declared.

Hermione was beginning to work out the logistics of magically shoving Molly's clock up her arse when a more pressing issue popped into mind.

"Fleur!" she hissed. "We didn't talk about checking Harry for tracking charms!"

"Perhaps Bill will have thought of that, and is checking him now?"

"But what if he isn't?"

The older witch pouted. "Bill could do it after he makes contact with our lip-reading friends, no?"

Hermione asked, "That would take time…why don't you check Harry while Bill is meeting with the goblins?"

Fleur arched an eyebrow as she used the tip of her wand to lift a pair of Hermione's knickers off of the bed.

"You know that I would have to check all of his things, right?"

The Muggleborn shrugged. "You've already seen him modeling his mail-order selections."

Fleur let the knickers fall back to the bedspread and dragged the tip of her wand down the front of Hermione's dressing gown.

"And it would have to be an intimate inspection, no?" she asked.

Hermione blushed as she considered just how intimate the inspection would have to be. The two witches then spent a few minutes resolving these concerns.

oo00OO00oo

Much closer to midnight, Bill pulled his arm free of his bed linens, aimed his wand across his own temporary sleeping quarters, and cast a charm that sent his brother into an even deeper sleep. Nervous anticipation catalyzed his rate of preparation; it took barely more than a minute for him to dress himself in travelling clothes and concealment magic. The curse-breaker then slipped out into the hallway, and tip-toed towards the stairs that led to the upper level.

A whispered detection spell confirmed that his sister's bedroom still didn't have the kind of ward line that kept boys (and men, and male part-kneazles) out of Fleur and Hermione's room. The analysis of his mother's motivations having already been hashed out, Bill didn't dwell on this fact (or the fact that Ginny's door was unlocked, for that matter). He stepped just far enough into his sister's bedroom to get a clear shot towards the bed, and cast the same Somnus spell that had sent his brother into a deep sleep.

It was just as easy for the curse-breaker to gain entrance to the adjacent bedroom. A bit harder, though, to keep from reacting once he was inside. Bill's parents were in separate twin beds; his mum was closer to the door, and facing it as she slept on her side. It wasn't the fact that she was hugging her clock against her chest that surprised Bill…it was the fact that there didn't appear to be anything in between flesh and glass. Molly's bed linens were gathered down by her hips, revealing the top half of her very low-cut nightgown. A shoulder strap had either slipped off in her sleep or been pushed down prior to that, exposing her entire left breast (save for that part that was thankfully concealed by the clock).

The Somnus spells cast on mother and father had to wait for the bile to be forced back down into Bill's stomach.

A few seconds later, Fleur heard someone scratch a fingernail against their bedroom door. But there was no one at the threshold…at least no one that she could see.

The sound of a second fingernail scratch carried down the hall. A pajama-clad Harry Potter opened that door, stuck his head out, and tried not to react when he spotted a bare-footed Fleur wearing a loosely-tied thigh-baring dressing gown. After steadying himself, the teen-aged wizard tip-toed to the head of the stairs. From there he watched the door at the base of the stairs quietly open, and then quietly close, seemingly all on its own.

Harry looked down the hall and silently gave Fleur the "thumbs-up" signal. The French witch nodded, then stepped into the hall and closed that bedroom door behind her.

"Meow?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived glanced back over his shoulder and shushed the part-Kneazle who had been watching from the doorway.

Someone grabbed his chin and pulled his lips towards a kiss. That someone was invisible, save for a shimmer of movement as his mouth was covered by a pair of barely-visible lips. Harry went with the flow and leaned into that kiss as Fleur walked past, gathered Crookshanks into her arms, and walked into his bedroom. The pajama-wearing wizard then felt a warm breath against his left ear as his near-invisible girlfriend whispered, "I'm wearing a concealment cloak. I'll stand guard while she explains."

Harry nodded his head and followed Fleur into his room.

oo00OO00oo

One floor down, Bill opened the Burrow's back door and slipped into the moon-cast shadows of his childhood home. This level of stealth was more for appearances than any real concern for operational safety. The self-cast disillusionment charm (applied just before Bill had left Ron's bedroom and scratched on two bedroom doors) was draped on top of a notice-me-not charm, which was itself layered over a goblin-tailored cloak of concealment. It would have taken a hominem revelio spell to spot the curse-breaker, and Bill trusted that the goblins who were (presumably) guarding and/or spying on them would have found a way to make him aware of that kind of spell being cast inside the ward perimeter.

Those very same goblins would give him hell if Bill didn't treat the situation with the level of cunning and caution that it deserved, though. So he stilled himself, and stretched his senses out until he was more confident about his surroundings. Then he started down the dirt path that led from the house out towards the orchard (and the ward line just beyond the pond). Bill didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but figured that even if he couldn't find it, that "it" would find him.

A familiarity with the location of each tree and each curve in the path (gained over his childhood and reinforced over the past several weeks) allowed Bill to make his way through the orchard without the aid of a lantern or Lumos. This familiarity also allowed him to spot something out of place…even in the dim moonlight that filtered down through the thick canopy of overlapping tree branches and leaves.

Bill stopped in his tracks and waited. After a few moments, he stepped off the path, headed towards one particular apple tree, then stopped and waited. When nothing happened, he wondered if he had overestimated the surveillance capabilities of his Gringotts colleagues. Then he discounted this possibility, and wondered how best to announce both his concealed presence and his discovery of a sentry's concealed presence. It was highly unlikely that a high-ranking goblin would be on the watch, which gave Bill a little leeway when it came to favoring plain-spoken challenges over more cautionary honorifics. Memories of past scatological conversations with Malice the secretary came to mind… and stayed there.

The curse-breaker briefly considered opening his trouser fly and taking a piss against the suspect tree. But then he considered how a hidden sentry might respond if he was caught under that spray of urine, and decided it would be better to stick to verbal abusiveness. So he approached the tree with his wand in hand, rather than his todger.

"Hey Arsehole!" Bill hissed, using his employer's tongue. "I'm going to cast a perimeter-based privacy ward." He waited a few tense moments, then conjured a cone of silence wide enough to include the suspect tree trunk.

"It's safe to talk now, so give it up, Shite for Brains!" Bill demanded.

A voice from within the tree trunk replied, "I'll rip open your skull and shit on your brains if you come any closer!"

Bill chuckled. "That's pretty funny…killer trees that threaten toothlessly in Gobbledygook. So now that we confirmed that your concealment skills aren't worth dick, do you have what we asked for?"

"Hold your position, Curse-breaker."

"Sure thing, Shite for Brains."

The red-haired wizard stepped back into the shadows, and waited for the goblin's next move.

oo00OO00oo

Checking his stuff for tracking charms had made perfect sense to Harry, once Fleur had explained the need. Harry would have bet on his glasses being charmed…they were, after all, something that he couldn't do without. The same reasoning made his wand a likely target, but both had both tested negative. Fleur then checked his boots…it wasn't the only footwear that he owned, but when the alternatives were Dudley's cast-off taped-up trainers it was the only thing he would wear on his feet. But these too, tested negative.

Hope grew with each negative response that their shared pessimism was unwarranted. Fleur tried his rucksack, then dumped it out and tested everything within the rucksack. The clothes that Harry had set out for their escape, his books, a bag of Hedwig's owl treats…everything was clean.

"Not much more," Fleur announced. She waved towards Harry and said, "Lean forward, so that I can do your head."

Harry complied with this request, swallowing a saucy comment about the part-Veela "doing" his head in his bedroom. Despite Fleur's assurances that this had been Hermione's idea, he was very mindful of the fact that a scantily-dressed part-Veela was in his bedroom, with the door closed. And it would have been impossible for Harry not to know that Fleur wasn't wearing anything underneath her dressing gown; repeated wand waves had loosened the front of that gown and created wardrobe malfunctions on three separate occasions.

The detection spell that Fleur was using was intent-based magic with a variable area of effect and duration. The targeted object would turn blue if the test was positive for trackers, and the more power Fleur put into the spell, the longer that glow would last. Power also drove how large an area could be checked. Fleur had played with the variables and come up with a version of the spell that she could cast repeatedly without tiring…a fist-sized area of effect that would produce a three or four second glow if anything within that targeted area was charmed with a tracking spell. This meant that it took several castings to cover all of Harry's messy mop; both were pleasantly surprised when these tests failed to generate a positive response.

"Très bien," she said with satisfaction. "Hands out, please."

Fleur quickly cleared the teen-aged wizard's fingernails. The French witch then squatted down, and innocently asked, "Has anyone told you that you have very sexy feet, Harry?"

Hermione's boyfriend looked down towards his toes, and immediately wished that he hadn't; Fleur's robe had slipped open for the fourth time. Tearing his eyes away from an unobstructed view down Fleur's front, he squeaked out the word "No."

The French witch looked up, then looked down and chuckled as she pulled robe fabric over her knees.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "You are such a considerate boyfriend. And Hermione is a very lucky witch."

"I really doubt she is thinking that at the moment," Harry muttered.

"Why do you say that?"

The teen-aged wizard nodded towards the part-kneazle chaperone that was glaring at them from the bed.

"Maybe because Crookshanks is still broadcasting my emotions?" he asked. "And maybe because Hermione is out there receiving those broadcasts, so she knows in real time whenever I get…"

"A pajama tent? Fleur teased. "Naughty thoughts?"

Harry sighed and said, "Exactly."

Fleur sighed. "Why do you think that Hermione's familiar even has the ability to broadcast your emotions? It is only because the bond between you two is so strong."

The messy-haired wizard quietly mulled over this point while Fleur raised another.

"And why is it that you are not affected like Ronald when I release my allure? It is because your heart belongs so completely to Hermione."

"But…it's not my heart that is broadcasting randy thoughts to Hermione every time that your robe slips open, is it?"

Fleur smiled coyly. "You know that because of the life debt that you could still claim me as your sex slave, correct?"

"Well…that's what you've said…"

"Hermione knows this as well. But she also knows that you are planning on granting my Bill a boon."

"But that doesn't excuse…"

"Doesn't excuse your arousal whenever I accidentally flash you?" Fleur asked.

"Well….yes."

Fleur shrugged. "Your dragon-sized tent is raised without ill intent."

"I doubt that either Bill or Hermione would agree."

The French witch shook her head. "Hermione said herself that a boy's brain is hard-wired to react to boobs and bits. You can't help not to notice."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Boobs and bits? Is that an exact quote?"

Fleur giggled. "She also said something about you not being embarrassed, because studies show that the average teenage male experiences an erection every fourteen minutes…and that's without having an incredibly sexy French witch around."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, she's already told me that."

"She told you that I am an incredibly sexy witch?"

"No, the fourteen minutes part."

Fleur nodded towards the front of Harry's pajamas and waggled her eyebrows.

"Then you are above average in more ways than one, no?" she teased.

Harry didn't bother to look down…he had been fighting a losing battle against an unwanted erection ever since the first nipple slip.

Fleur reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You are human, Harry. Hermione is human. How do you respond when she becomes aroused, and your familiar broadcasts her randiness to you?"

A breath caught in Harry's throat as his gaze involuntarily darted towards his bed.

"Well…"

Fleur laughed as she cast a Tempus spell that showed the time as five minutes before midnight.

"Bill should be back any time now," she stated. "We could stop now and wait for him to finish the job?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, we'd just be taking up post-midnight time that could be better spent on other things. Like escaping, and claiming lordships, and granting boons."

"Good," Fleur said. "I am happy that we had this talk."

"Great."

"Because now I must check the rest of your hairs."

"Erm….what?"

Fleur smiled. "Unless you have already taken my advice and thinned your thicket?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Afraid not."

"Then please become nude," said Fleur.

"But…"

Fleur reached for her dressing gown sash. "Would it be easier if I also become nude?"

"No…it's just that…Hermione…"

"It is nothing that I haven't already seen, no?"

"You've already seen my…when?"

Deliberately side-stepping the fact that Hermione had allowed her to see Harry's modeling work in the mail-order lingerie catalog, Fleur replied, "Sur la Côte de Weasley. Do you not remember that Molly's Praetego spell was too small to cover your thicket?"

"It's not the thicket that I'm worried about. It's the…"

"I could cast a freezing charm if you like."

Harry's knees locked together. "Thanks, but no thanks. After a bit of thought, he let out a deep breath and then said, "Turn around."

Fleur snickered. "You want me to blindly cast the spell over my shoulder?"

"Just do it, please."

The part-Veela complied with Harry's request.

"And now?"

Harry glanced across the room and rolled his eyes.

"And now, quit looking at me in the mirror."

Fleur pouted and replied, "Spoilsport."

Harry muttered, "More like survival skills," as he pulled a clean (and cleared) pair of boxers off of the bed. Turning away from Fleur, he quickly pushed down his pajama bottoms and pushed decidedly unsexy thoughts to the front of his brain. Once he'd regained some control, he pulled up the shorts.

"There, you can turn around now."

Fleur spun around just in time to catch the pajama bottoms that had been tossed in her direction. They were checked (and cleared) while Harry unbuttoned his pajama top. That proved to be free of charms as well.

Fleur faced Harry and coyly stated, "So, the moment of truth?"

The teen-aged wizard pointed towards his bared chest and shook his head.

"Got some chest hairs to do first," he stated.

Fleur leaned forward and squinted.

"Where?"

"Right here," Harry said indignantly. He then looked down and moved his finger a bit. "And there….and there…and here…."

Fleur laughed out loud. "I am just teasing you. I can see your manly chest hairs, Harry….all six of them."

"Hey!"

"Stand still, then," said Fleur. "Shouldn't be hard to get them all with one spell casting."

"Just do it," Harry whined.

The spell was cast, and the chest hairs proved to be free of trackers.

With eyes still closed, the teen-aged wizard closed his eyes and hooked his thumbs inside the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts. "Right, let's get this over with."

"Why aren't you looking?" Fleur asked.

"Less embarrassing," Harry reasoned. "Less nerve-wracking as well…never a good thing when you spot a witch aiming her wand towards your bits."

"As you wish," said Fleur.

Harry took a deep breath, and dropped his drawers.

oo00OO00oo

It had been really, really hard for Hermione to maintain focus during Crookshanks' latest broadcasts. Harry's emotions had been on an intense roller-coaster ride that took another lap every time he generated even a sliver of sexual arousal. It was sweet, in a way…her boyfriend's arousal, immediately squashed by waves of disgust, eventually giving way to guilt, presumably about having been aroused by something that Fleur had said, or done, or flashed.

Hermione was definitely planning on talking with her boyfriend about that misapplied guilt. A little bit of remorse was healthy, but bits and boobs and all that. As long as it didn't build to anything, and he was able to eventually gain control; the same way that her father (and mother) dealt with the occasional erection during family visits to clothing optional beaches (it was one of those events that had prompted her mother's frank explanations, after all).

The main problem, from her standpoint, was the strength of the broadcasted signal. It was a double-edged sword. Knowing your boyfriend's emotional state was a thrilling way to quash any self-doubts about your physical desirability. But there were times, such as that very moment, when the broadcasts were interfering with her ability to focus on other tasks. And that was a problem when the tasks at hand were so critical…tasks like keeping watch while your gorgeous roommate was in your boyfriend's bedroom, checking out his bits.

Hermione shook her head in an attempt to clear it from the latest broadcasted blast. And then she worried about whether that head shaking could have shimmered enough to reveal her cloak-concealed position. It was enough for her to reconsider Crookshanks' strongly expressed desire to stay with his barnyard harem. She'd dearly miss her familiar, but maybe that was the price to be paid for maintaining her sanity, and retaining some mental privacy?

Musings over whether Luna Lovegood could be trusted as a holiday cat-sitter were interrupted by a huge wave of raw, unmitigated anger.

The dash down the half-flight of stairs was frantic enough to throw back the concealment's cloak's hood, which meant that it was seemingly a disembodied head that burst into Harry's bedroom and hissed, "What's wrong?"

Hermione's brain eventually caught up with her feet, and she processed what she was looking at…Fleur aiming her wand at Harry's neon-blue pubes.

The teen-aged witch ignored her roommate's shushing and dashed across the room, casting off her concealment cloak so that her boyfriend knew where to wrap his arms as she pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, Harry! How could they!"

Fleur watched Hermione console her boyfriend for a bit. Then she picked up the concealment cloak and told the younger couple that she would stand watch while Hermione helped Harry deal with this latest indignity.

Hermione thanked Fleur for the offer, and then said, "Don't do anything that I wouldn't do."

"I can say the same, no?"

The Muggleborn giggled as she reached down and squeezed her boyfriend's bare bum. "Not a whole lot of constraints on either of us, then?"

Fleur's grin disappeared under the hood of her goblin-tailored concealment cloak.

oo00OO00oo

The ladder hidden within the hollowed-out tree trunk had rungs that were spaced for a goblin's reach. Fortunately, Bill's experiences as a Gringotts curse-breaker allowed him to descend without incident. In fact, it was the number of rungs, rather than their spacing, that was beginning to tire his arms. Not that he was unhappy about the distance. Quite the opposite, actually, because these vertical shafts were only used by the goblins to penetrate defensive wards. The better the ward scheme, the longer the access tubes...and he had designed the Burrow's ward scheme.

The vertical shaft finally opened up into a horizontal tunnel wide enough for two goblins to stand side-by-side. The tunnel was also tall enough for a goblin to stand up straight…but just barely, which meant that Bill had stoop down almost to the point of crawling on hands and knees to follow his escort. Needless to say, there wasn't any provided sympathy from that escort. Not that it was expected; Bill was quite used to these types of goblin-sized working conditions.

They passed by two more vertical chutes and ladders as they travelled laterally. There also was a spot where side-tunnels branched out perpendicular to their tunnel. Bill assumed these led to different surveillance points. Fifty feet beyond this intersection, the tunnel opened up into a larger and (thankfully) taller room-sized excavation that was decorated more like a business office than a bunker. There was a goblin with stripes on his uniform's sleeves sitting behind a desk on the far side of the room.

"Here he is, Sir," Bill's escort spat in Gobbledygook.

"Leave us, Shite for Brains," the sitting goblin barked.

The escort winced, then spun on his heels and began walking back towards his sentry position.

"No, not back to your post, Shite for Brains!" the ranking goblin barked. "Go find Snail Licker and have him take your place. You obviously need some rest if this human was able to detect your location so easily."

The junior goblin's eyes darted towards Bill as he reached for his dagger.

"Now, Shite for Brains!" the senior goblin barked.

The sentry dashed towards a different side tunnel, growling at Bill the entire way.

"Have a seat, Curse-Breaker," the senior goblin said.

Bill nodded as he followed orders and sat in the uncomfortable stone-hewn chair in front of the desk.

"His name really isn't Shite for Brains, is it?" he asked.

The senior goblin smiled. "It is now."

"Lovely," Bill sighed.

"Time is money, Weasley."

"I agree, Team Leader…"

"Team Leader is just fine, Curse-breaker."

"Yes, Team Leader."

"So what tipped you off?"

"Excuse me, Team Leader?"

"How did you spot Shite for Brains?"

"Oh…I spotted the Gobbledygook rune that was carved into the tree trunk."

"Fuck, me!" the goblin cursed. He let out a deep sigh and shook his head. "I can already hear the excuses…Sorry, Sir, but the trees all looked the same…"

"Well, it helped that I could read Gobbledygook. And the rune was pretty well hidden."

"Unlike your shagging, Curse Breaker?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your shagging locations…not very well hidden at all."

Bill shrugged. A small smile formed on his lips as he quipped, "She wasn't complaining."

The team leader stared at Bill for a few seconds, then let out a loud, braying laugh.

"Yes, quite the opposite, wasn't it, Curse-breaker?" he asked. "Not much subtlety in your message sending either."

Bill shrugged once more. "It apparently worked."

"That it did…such a novel way of delivering your message," the goblin warrior stated, as he retrieved a piece of parchment from a pocket and began to read.

"The following words were spoken by Bird at 6:25 p.m., 30 June human time, as she was being shagged on the front lawn by Big Red…."

The goblin looked up from the parchment, then cleared his throat and adopted a far more feminine tone of voice.

"Oh, Bill, I love your big fat clock!" the goblin read. "Give me that big fucking clock of yours! Feels so good when you switch it! Switch it harder! Switch that big fat clock in me!"

The goblin warrior took a moment to chuckle, then asked, "Switch it, Curse-Breaker Weasley? Is that what you humans are calling it these days?"

Bill grinned.

The goblin rolled his eyes, then continued reading from the transcript.

"Give it to me, Bill! Give it to me! I am going to come! Going to come all the way to the bank! Going to port your big fucking key all night long. Going to...tonight at midnight….[subject then shrieked something unintelligible as she experienced orgasm]."

The goblin folded the parchment and placed it back within his pocket.

"You're lucky that we had someone who could understand French well enough to make sense of your mate's orgasmic shrieks, Curse-breaker," he stated.

Bill smiled. "Just had faith in the thoroughness of your team's surveillance skills."

"I am disappointed that you chose such a…naked…form of communication."

"Hermione is the only other witch or wizard around here that knows French," Bill replied. "And we were doing that on turned time…already knew that we weren't going to get caught with our pants down, and if we weren't going to be busted for shagging on the front lawn, well, then…"

"Then it was unlikely that your Veela mate would be caught sending a secret message as she rode your big fat clock?"

"Something like that," Bill said with a grin.

The goblin muttered something under his breath as he reached down and pulled open a desk drawer. From that drawer came a different piece of parchment, a self-inking quill, and a full-scale replica of Molly's clock.

"Here's what your Veela was moaning about…you'll need to sign for it."

Bill looked at the clock face and frowned.

"It's no longer a perfect copy…my mother switched out some of the locations tonight."

The goblin shrugged. "It's not my problem."

"I can probably transfigure it," Bill decided. "So what about the portkey?" he asked.

"You mean the big fucking key that your mate is going to port all night long?"

"Yeah, that one."

The goblin warrior shook his head.

"The situation has changed," he stated. "The midnight meeting will now take place here."

"Here?" asked Bill, looking around the excavated space.

"You have a problem with following orders, Curse-Breaker?" the goblin growled.

Bill glared across the desk.

"My orders came directly from the Board of Auditors, and you're not in my chain of command," he spat. "So unless you can prove that this sudden change in plans came from them…."

The goblin warrior waved off Bill's statement.

"Fine, don't believe me. We'll just sit here and wait for Account Manager Chokebar to tell you the same thing…assuming that he's still in your chain of command?"

Bill glanced at his watch and decided that he could survive a few more minutes with the team leader. He nodded his head, and then asked, "So how is Chokebar going to get here?"

The goblin warrior snorted as he gestured for Bill to walk with him down the side exit of the excavated room. The curse-breaker's eyes widened when they turned a corner and he spotted the narrow gauge track.

As they stood there and waited for Potter account manager to arrive, Bill wondered just how much it had cost the goblins to extend the Gringotts underground cart network all the way out to Ottery St. Catchpole.

oo00OO00oo

Fleur's nose told her that Hermione had found a way to dampen some of Harry's anger even before the wizard opened his bedroom door with a goofy grin on his face. She returned the smile, and asked, "Sex makes everything better, no?"

Harry winced a little as he sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair. "We didn't go that…I mean…."

"Another tea break, then?" Fleur asked.

"What does that mean?"

"Ask your lover," Fleur teased as she brushed past Harry and entered the bedroom. She found Hermione hunched over the desk that sat against the far wall.

The Muggleborn turned and asked, "How else could I convince him that smooth is sexy?"

"By not tickling your nose as he added milk to your tea?"

Hermione offered Fleur a brilliant smile.

"Maybe," she coyly replied. "All kinds of possibilities now that my boyfriend isn't jail bait."

Fleur's eyes lit up. "Of course! It is after midnight!" She turned towards Harry and pulled him into a hug as she kissed both cheeks.

"Happy Birthday, Master! Would you like my presents now?"

"Fleur!" Hermione hissed.

Harry shook his head as he pushed back from Fleur's embrace.

"Quit teasing," he said.

"Of course, Master…your wish is your sex slave's command!" Fleur teased.

Harry sighed. "If that's the case, then go help Hermione while I finish packing."

"You do not wish to give me your birthday spankings?"

"It's the birthday boy that gets spanked," Hermione stated.

"Well, if that's the case…"

Hermione said, "Just get over here and help me separate the wheat from the chaff."

Fleur tilted her head so that she could get a better view of the desk.

"What is that, ma Cherie?" she asked.

Hermione stepped to the side and revealed three small piles of curly hair.

"I'm separating out the pubes that were hit with tracking charms," she explained. "Harry was all for banishing the lot of them to Hell once I was done using the depilatory charm on him, but…"

"Hermione, you are using my tracking charm detection spell?" Fleur asked. "I thought that you were worried about how much magic was needed to cast it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm using a simpler spell that determines whether an object is charmed or not, and just assuming that any detected magic is a tracking charm. That's how I double-checked that I'd gotten all of them."

"Really? What a shame…I was thinking that I would need to check your work."

Harry snorted from across the room. "Oh, no…Hermione was very thorough."

Fleur shook her head. She pointed towards the piles of pubic hairs and asked, "But why go to the trouble?"

"I convinced Harry that there still might be some good use for these bad boys," Hermione said.

Her boyfriend added, "As long as my pubes are here, they'll reckon that I'm still here."

Fleur asked, "Why not just leave the entire pile, then?"

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "You do realize that a tracking charm can only be applied to one object at a time, right?"

"Yes…so if there is more than one charmed hair, then the spell was cast…"

"Forty-seven different times and counting," Hermione stated.

Harry let out a deep sigh. "When would someone have had the chance to cast that spell on me forty-seven fucking times? And who? Don't know what would be grosser…if it was Molly who cast the tracking spells, or Dumbledore."

"Now Harry," said Hermione. "Remember that Death Eaters could have placed them on you."

"Why would that be possible?" Fleur asked. "If they were close enough to jinx his pubic hairs, they would have been close enough to simply kill him off."

"Ssssh!" said Hermione. "We don't want to discount the possibility."

"Why not?"

"Because it justifies what we're thinking about doing with the hairs."

"Oh?" said Fleur. "And what is that?"

"Might send someone on a wild goose chase," said Hermione.

"Or a wild hare chase, as it were," Harry added. He then asked, "So what were you doing out there?"

The French witch smiled. "Making the punishment fit the crime," she replied. "I was so upset at what had been done to you, Harry…so I snuck into Molly's bedroom, reapplied the Somnus charm, then numbed her privates."

"Why did you do that?"

"So that she wouldn't wake up when I permanently jinxed all of her short hairs to grow inward," Fleur replied.

"Ouch!" Hermione hissed, as she reflexively reached down and covered her crotch. She then turned to Fleur and asked, "So what if it was Dumbledore who cast the tracking charms, rather than Molly?"

The part-Veela snorted. "This is a concern, coming from the witch who had already suggested that I could torture Molly by releasing my Allure on her after she had been tied down and petrified?"

"Well…"

"Enough," said Fleur. "Let us complete the wheat separation, and make the brainstorming over what to do with Harry's thicket."

It took little time for the three of them to isolate the offending hairs and flesh out a disposal plan. Not enough time, as it turned out, for Fleur to run out of ways to playfully tease the other two before Bill returned from his underground meeting with the goblins.

oo00OO00oo

Explaining to Bill why there was now an envelope on Harry's desk that contained seventy-three of his pubic hairs took a backseat to Bill's explanation of why he'd been away longer than they had expected.

"First off, Hermione's parents are safe and sound," Bill reported. "At least according to the goblins."

"Should we be concerned about that qualifier?" Harry asked.

The curse-breaker shook his head. "No, they said that Roger and Emily were already with Fleur's parents. I doubt that they would lie about something so easily verifiable."

"Unless someone else was feeding them bad information," Fleur countered.

"Yes, well…if you are worried about trusting Goblin motivations you'll love this next part…they've decided to move the client meeting."

"To where?"

"Here, actually."

Harry looked around his bedroom. "Here, here?" he asked.

"No, here as in four hundred feet beneath the Burrow," Bill replied.

"Beneath the Burrow?" Hermione asked.

Bill nodded. "I still can't believe that the bastards tunneled all the way out here."

"They what?"

"They extended the Gringotts underground track system by adding a branch line to the Burrow," Bill explained. "It's how they've been able to support the surveillance operation….and it's also how they plan on getting us out of here."

"So let me get this straight," said Harry. "Instead of using a portkey to travel to Gringotts and holding my meeting there, they want to hold the meeting first, and then send us to Gringotts by cart?"

"That's the gist of it."

"I don't like it," Harry replied. "It's a last second change that takes away our leverage."

"What leverage?" Fleur asked.

"They want me to assume my lordship so that I can legally sign a will that would prevent the Ministry from seizing my estate if I die," said Harry. "They also want to keep my money in their vaults, rather than move it all to North America. If I do all of the lordship will writing stuff here, inside the Burrow's wards…"

Hermione completed her boyfriend's comment. "What's to keep them from then deciding that Harry is better off stuck here for the rest of the summer, firmly within Gringotts territory?"

Bill thought about these concerns for a few moments. "Well, it wouldn't be a smart customer service plan, for one. You are going to eventually get out from Mum's control."

Harry shook his head. "Eventually isn't soon enough."

Hermione asked, "Did they give any justifications for switching the meeting location?"

Bill nodded. "Yes, actually…they raised an issue that's been in the back of my mind all Summer."

"What's that?"

"Our oaths to the Order of the Phoenix," Bill replied. "Fleur and I swore on our magic to support the Order and its missions, and the Order's number one mission is keeping Harry safe."

"And?"

"And I may have designed the Burrow's wards too well for our own good," Bill replied. "The Goblins claim that the only places in Britain with better warding right now are Gringotts and Hogwarts."

"So, you're saying that neither you nor Fleur could help Harry escape from the Burrow because just about every place he travels to would be less safe than here?" Hermione asked.

"It's not that cut and dry," Bill admitted. "There is, however, enough uncertainty for there to be a concern. On the other hand, if I'm able to swear fealty to Harry before we leave, it's a moot point."

Harry asked, "What if I claim lordship and grant the boon here, but refuse to execute a will until after we have escaped?"

"That might work," said Fleur. "But I was thinking that we still might have leverage even if you did execute a will here…depending on how that will is written."

Harry's gaze snapped towards Bill. He had already told the curse breaker how he wanted the will set up, but hadn't shared that decision with anyone else, for fear that it would make things funny between Hermione and him. But at this point, he felt he had to say something.

He reached out for Hermione's hand and said, "Everything would go to you."

"What? To me?" Hermione gasped. "But I'm not even your…."

"As far as I'm concerned, you are family, Hermione," insisted Harry.

The messy-haired wizard was wrapped up in a crushing hug.

Fleur brushed away a happy tear from her cheek, then clapped her hands together.

"Well, that answers my question, then," she decided. "If Hermione is the main beneficiary, then we have the leverage even if the will becomes a legal document."

"Why's that?" Harry asked (still enveloped in Hermione's arms).

"Because Hermione is still an under-aged witch," Fleur explained.

"Not when it comes to the age of consent, thank you very much!" Hermione quipped.

"But you are under-aged as far as the Ministry is concerned…at least until September," Fleur replied. "So…if Harry passes his estate to you, and if you then pass on without creating a will, the Ministry still gets to claim the estate."

"Wouldn't my estate automatically go to my parents, as long as they're still alive?" Hermione asked.

Bill shook his head. "They would not allow the Potter estate to pass into Muggle hands," he explained.

"Ah…so that means that the Goblins would have to start sucking up to Hermione, too!" Harry declared.

Fleur chuckled. "I think that they already know that keeping Hermione happy is vital to keeping Harry happy."

"I still worry about the fact that they sprung this on us at the last minute," said Hermione. "You said before that the Auditors were intentionally keeping you from interacting with Harry's account manager, yet here he is tonight?"

Bill shrugged. "Well, it makes sense if it's a meeting between client and account manager. It might be internal bank politics at work, but that could be either good or bad. The plan all along was for us to portkey to the front steps of Gringotts. If the good goblins were worried that the bad goblins would take advantage of that plan, then getting to the bank by a different route, and keeping the change a secret, really makes a lot of sense."

Harry let out a deep sigh. "So what do you think we should do, Bill?"

The curse breaker rubbed his chin as he weighed the different options.

"Chokebar is already here," he stated. "So are the lordship paperwork and the ring."

"What do you think, Hermione?"

The Muggleborn chewed on her lower lip. "Even if we were to walk outside of the wards and flag down the Knight Bus…we still would have to meet with the goblins at some point within a goblin-controlled setting. So…"

"So let's go with the devil that we know…the devil that is waiting for us below?" Harry asked.

"That's what I'm thinking."

"What about my invisibility cloak, though?" Harry asked. "The plan was to retrieve it on the way out."

"The goblins offered to retrieve it…for a small fee, of course," said Bill.

Harry shook his head. "I'd feel safer having it in hand before we cross the ward line…can we grab it first, and then go underground for the meeting?"

"I don't see why not," Fleur replied. "We could even use the same plan!"

Bill nodded. "The goblins did tell me that Diggle is the only one out there patrolling the ward line."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You just want another excuse to have some more outdoor sex."

"Why must we have an excuse?" the French witch asked.

Harry cast a Tempus charm.

"Right, then…we've got boons to grant and carts to catch…we'll retrieve the cloak, then regroup back here before meeting with the goblins below."

Bill nodded in agreement. "Ah, before I forget," he noted, as he pulled out a small wrapped package. "A birthday present from your account manager."

Harry ripped off the wrapping paper, opened the lid on a velvet-lined wooden box, and pulled out two wrist-mounted wand holsters.

"Nice!" Bill declared. "Same Gringotts-issued models that Fleur and I wear!"

Harry smiled as he passed one of the holsters to Hermione.

"Really?" she asked. "It's your birthday, not mine."

"And I've only got one wand," Harry replied. "I'm sure the second was meant for you."

Bill and Fleur showed the two teenagers how to strap the holsters on to their wand arms, then activate the charm that turned the holsters practically invisible.

"Bon," Fleur declared with a smile. "Now you will always have your wands within reach, even on zee nude beach."

As Harry and Hermione blushed Bill reminded them that the holsters were Gringotts-made, and not sanctioned by the Ministry of Magic for use by the general public. In terms of the quality of the concealing magic, they were actually superior to the holsters used within the Auror Corps (as well as those available to the Order of the Phoenix, thanks to Kingsley Shacklebolt).

Once Harry and Hermione demonstrated the ability to flick their wrist and snap their wands into place without blasting off their fingers, Bill said that he would switch out the fake clock for the real Weasley tracking device, and then meet everyone down in the kitchen in five minutes time.

Fleur and Hermione agreed…so long as the five-minute countdown clock didn't start until after they sealed the new deal with kisses from their boyfriends.

oo00OO00oo

Hermione and Fleur were in their bedroom a few minutes later when the Muggleborn swung her rucksack over a shoulder and asked, "So how do I look?"

Fleur gave a look of approval over her roommate's all-black commando outfit.

"I'd rather see you wearing a little black dress, but under the circumstances…there is just one more thing to complete the outfit, no?" The French witch then handed her roommate a satiny dark gray cloak.

Hermione frowned. "You don't have to give me your concealment cloak…I've got one in my pack, right?"

"That one is only ready-to-wear," Fleur replied. "Mine has been accessorized…you did not notice when you borrowed it earlier this evening?"

The part-Veela flipped her cloak inside out and pointed towards a wide chest-high pocket built into the lining. She reached inside this pocket and did a "Mary Poppins" by pulling out a five-foot long broomstick.

The Muggleborn witch winced as the broom was held out for her inspection.

"You know that I hate to fly, right?"

"Just in case."

"You'd be better off giving this to Harry, and letting me ride on his stick."

Fleur giggled. "Oh, ma Cherie, you don't need my permission to ride on your lover's broomstick!"

"You know what I mean!"

The French witch nodded. "Harry will use Bill's cloak. It has the same upgrades."

"Still…I'm pants at flying," Hermione insisted.

"You still need to carry one in case of an emergency," said Fleur.

"But what about you?"

The French witch handed her cloak to Hermione, then pulled her dressing gown open to expose its unlined interior (as well as her bits).

"As you can see, I have no place to hide a broomstick," she quipped. "At least, not one that is that long and that thick!"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Fleur loosely tied her gown closed. "If all four of us must make the emergency flight, either outside or underground in the cart tunnels, then Bill and I can use that broomstick you are holding, while you ride on Harry's."

"I still don't know why you aren't dressing in your traveling clothes as well," Hermione said, as she pushed the twig end of Fleur's broomstick down into the magically-enlarged cloak pocket.

"This is just until we retrieve Harry's cloak from Diggle, no?" the French witch replied. She cupped her breasts through the thin silk fabric of her dressing gown and added, "For the plan to work these must not be concealed."

"You don't have to be naked to release your allure, Fleur."

"But I have to entice the guard to come close enough to be affected, no?"

Hermione scoffed at the idea. "I still say that this is just an excuse for you two to show off more of your kinky exhibitionist sides."

The French witch ignored this comment as she rummaged through her rucksack and pulled a little rubber ducky out of her beach bag.

oo00OO00oo

The hallway was quiet and clear (as long as you ignored the loud snoring that was coming from Ron's bedroom). The two witches cautiously walked downstairs to the kitchen. Bill and Harry were there waiting for them, wearing mirror-imaged kits (the barefoot curse-breaker wearing just a dressing gown, and Harry dressed in black camo). Crookshanks was sitting at Harry's feet, broadcasting nervous anticipation in both directions.

"All set?" Bill whispered.

"Let's do it, baby!" Fleur purred, handing her fiancé her rucksack. As Bill hid his rucksack and Fleur's in the kitchen pantry, she opened her dressing gown and let it slip off her shoulders.

A breath caught in Bill's throat as he walked out of the pantry and spotted his naked fiancée. His eyes darted from his naked girlfriend towards Harry, who was keeping his gaze firmly planted on his own boots. He turned back towards Fleur and asked, "What are you doing?"

"We must have the dress rehearsal for the outside performance, no?" she asked.

Bill snorted. "I think we've done more than enough of that kind of rehearsing."

"Is that a complaint?" Fleur asked.

"Oh, hell no," Bill quickly replied. He looked towards Hermione and Harry and said, "It's just…a lot brighter here in the kitchen compared to outside."

"You are embarrassed to be naked in front of another witch?" Fleur asked.

"Erm…"

"But you had no hesitation removing your clothes in front of my friend Caroline?"

"Well, that was different," Bill insisted. "It's not as if we're about to have a three-way…"

"It better not be," Harry quipped.

Bill looked over towards the younger couple and noted that they were still inspecting the kitchen floor.

Crookshanks provided a welcomed distraction as Bill's robe slipped to the floor, leaving him naked.

"Meow!"

Harry squatted down and rubbed the part-Kneazle's back.

"No worries, Crooks…we're just going out for a bit," he said.

"Meow!"

Hermione dropped down to Harry's side and scooped her familiar into her arms. "Oh, Crookshanks…you're such a worrier," she said. "Are you that anxious to take an underground cart ride?" She then kissed the part-Kneazle on the top of his head and added, "You just stay back, and make sure that Molly doesn't muck things up for us, okay?"

Crookshanks looked up and held Hermione's gaze as feelings of love and protectiveness and reassurance passed between them. The familiar then jumped out of Hermione's arms and sauntered towards the base of the stairs.

"Thanks, Crooks," the Muggleborn witch said, as the familiar took up a sentry position facing up the stairs. Hermione took her boyfriend's hand and helped him stand up straight, then turned towards Bill and Fleur and gasped.

"Hey, you two…keep it in your pants!"

Fleur tore her lips away from Bill's and coyly replied, "But we are not wearing pants, ma Cherie!"

"You know what I mean," Hermione replied. "Quicker we retrieve Harry's cloak, quicker we can properly celebrate boons and birthdays."

"But you two are not fully dressed, yet!" Fleur protested.

Hermione looked down at her outfit and said, "Fine."

The time it took for Harry and Hermione to disappear under their respective concealment cloaks was time enough for Fleur and Bill to run through a bit more dress rehearsal.

oo00OO00oo

Uncertain loyalties and internal bank politics made for an uneasy wait as the manager of the Potter and Black accounts sat with the surveillance team leader in the bunker deep beneath the Burrow's orchard.

"He should have had the boy here by now," Chokebar muttered, as he reached for his pocket watch and once again checked the time.

The warrior snorted. "Do you hover over your investments with this same level of impatience, Account Manager? He won't move unless and until the building interior is secure."

Chokebar scoffed. "I was told that you and your warriors were instructed to prevent any external threats from gaining that kind of access."

The warrior's nostrils flared. "Are your questioning my team's competence, Arse Manager?"

The just-insulted Account Manager followed his opposite's lead and slowly moved his hand towards the hilt of his steel-spiked mace. "Should it be questioned, Troll Breath?"

The rapidly escalating tension was stilled (at least momentarily) when one of the six crystals that were sitting on the team leader's desk lit up. The warrior reached for the glowing stone and activated the communication device with a scrape of his fingernail.

"Apple Base this is Apple One. Big Red and Bird have exited rear of house."

Chokebar spat out, "Finally!"

The team lead quieted the Account Manager with a wave of his hand.

"Copy that, Apple One. Just those two, then?"

"Looks that way, Apple Base."

"Don't give me any 'looks that way' shite, Apple One! How many vectors are there?"

The reply came after a few tense moments of silence.

"Four vectors, Apple Base… two under concealment cloaks, walking just fast enough to be spotted behind the naked couple."

"Repeat that?"

"Two humans wearing concealment cloaks, walking behind Big Red and Bird, who aren't wearing anything."

"You mean that they aren't wearing cloaks?"

"Apple Base, Big Red and Bird aren't wearing anything…except maybe their wand holsters. Hard to tell in this light."

"By the Gods…" the team lead muttered.

"What the fuck are they doing?" spat Chokebar.

The team leader sighed. "Intentionally attracting attention, I imagine." He gave the crystal face a harsh scrape of his nail and barked, "Report, Apple Two!"

The goblin manning the second surveillance post whispered, "Big Red is leading Bird straight towards my position, Apple Base."

"They're going to reveal our location to the human sentry!" Chokebar spat.

The team leader waved off the account manager's comment as he scratched a different crystal face.

"Apple Five, is the human still with you by the pond?"

"I have detected no movement or sound since my last report, Apple Base. Although that might soon change. I can hear Big Red and Bird's footsteps from here."

"You might be able to hear them, Apple Five…but that useless wizard sentry has human ears. Focus your attention and your ears on that sentry."

"Understood, Apple Base."

"Update, Apple Two!"

The goblin sentry hiding within the base of the hollowed out apple tree whispered, "Big Red just walked up and placed a hand on this tree! Should I offer challenge?"

"Negative, Apple Two."

"Why not?" asked Chokebar.

"He's up to something," the team leader stated. "This might be a clever way of showing the other three which tree to run to in case of trouble."

"Wouldn't be any trouble if Weasley would simply lead them down the ladder!"

The team leader shrugged. "Maybe Profit wants to avoid paying us to retrieve his cloak?"

The goblin warrior demanded an update from the Apple Two location.

"Apple Base, Big Red has now stepped away from the tree and is leading Bird back towards the path. And…it looks like the young couple are stopping for a bit of romantic foreplay under the stars…"

"For some what?" the team leader asked. "Give me some goddamn details, Apple Two!"

"Copy that, Apple Base," the sentinel quickly replied. "Right now, Big Red and Bird are hungrily pressing their opened lips together as their tongues wrestle for dominance. Big Red is fondling Bird's heaving breasts, while she playfully tickles Big Red's ball sack with her little bird."

"With her little bird?" Chokebar asked with a snort.

The team lead waved off the account manager's question, just before he rephrased it.

"Apple Two, what do you mean by her little bird?"

"Exactly what I said, Apple Base," the sentry replied. "She was rubbing that rubber toy that she uses to clean the pond against Big Red's balls…and now she's running it down the length of his turgid manhood…and she is moaning rapturously as she lovingly drags the toy's beak in circles around the head of Big Red's massive man-meat…"

"That's enough detail, Apple Two."

"Copy that, Apple Base."

"I'd be worried about that one, if I were you," Chokebar said with a laugh.

The surveillance team leader rolled his eyes as he covered the communication crystal with the palm of his hand. He then leaned across the desk and whispered, "That's Snail Licker. The pervy twerp is a division commander's nephew."

"Ah…enough said," Chokebar replied knowingly.

"He was also the only one in the barracks that could lip read French."

"Even more reason," the account manager agreed.

The surveillance team leader fired a question towards the second crystal.

"Where are the other two, Apple Two?"

"What other two?"

"The two that Apple One spotted wearing concealment cloaks!"

"Oh…haven't seen them."

"What?"

"Sorry, Apple Base…you did ask me to focus on the details, didn't you?"

The team leader gritted his teeth as he swiped a long sharpened fingernail over all six message crystals.

"Attention all units…ignore Big Red's and Bird's rutting. Focus on finding the two that are hiding underneath concealment cloaks! Apple Five, let me know if that human sentry moves even an inch!"

"Copy, Apple Base out."

oo00OO00oo

The goblin stationed at the Apple Three surveillance location reported to base when "Big Red" and "Bird" emerged from the woods a few minutes later and walked hand-in-hand towards the pond. He watched the female toss a yellow rubber ducky into the scum-covered pond, but ignored the charmed toy as it began to clear the water. He also tore his eyes away from the naked couple and refocused his attention on the last spot where he had heard the hidden human's footfall.

Not that he would have focused on the couple in the absence of those orders. They were both fit…by human standards. And the goblin could appreciate the fact that "Bird" was a fine female specimen…as far as near-humans go. But it wasn't as if he was sexually aroused by her bouncing breasts or obscenely-long legs. The goblin scout left that for Snail Licker and the desperate sons-of-bitches whose remote postings lacked track-access to goblin whorehouses. He was neither deviant nor all that desperate…as was proven during previous occasions when his concealed position had been enveloped by the part-Veela's cloud of allure. It hadn't affected him at all…and he wouldn't have even known that she had released her attack were it not for how stupidly two of her companions had reacted.

Thirty feet away, a second sentinel watched with undivided attention as Bill and Fleur stood by the water's edge and pressed their naked bodies against each other. That sentry's attention should have been focused in the opposite direction, out beyond the ward line. But it wasn't every day (or every moonlit night, for that matter) that an old man like Dedalus Diggle was presented with this kind of voyeuristic opportunity.

The struggle to remain hidden and quiet under the borrowed invisibility cloak became that much more difficult when Fleur reached down and began to stroke her lover's erection. Diggle watched as Bill reached up and began teasing a nipple between his fingers. He had never seen such a sight playing out before his eyes. He didn't blink…he couldn't blink for fear of missing, within that fraction of a second, something that was even more erotic. The old wizard reached down (while still under the cloak) and pulled out his wrinkled old todger. One hand gripped the invisibility cloak tightly shut while the other hand began to stroke.

The rubbing became more insistent when the French witch turned in Diggle's direction, dropped to her hands and knees, and begged her lover to claim her from behind. Eyes that were glued to Bill todger as it zeroed in on its target failed to spot the smile that formed on

Fleur's lips. Suddenly, nothing was more important to the ninety-eight year old wizard than achieving the perfect orgasm. Nothing.

Diggle couldn't feel his knees as they began to shake. He paid no mind to the light-headedness that was muddling his brain, or to the dizziness. The rush of hormones and adrenalin helped him ignore the tightness and the pain that was filling his chest. He kept on stroking, and stroking, dying to get to the point of release.

Literally dying, as it turned out.

Diggle's aorta burst two seconds after the first burst of ejaculate, and he fell dead onto his back.

oo00OO00oo

Bill whispered tender protests when Fleur crawled forward and pulled herself free of his thrusts.

"He is here, and I have him," she quietly explained.

Bill whined, "Well I'm here, and you were about to have me too!"

A giggle escaped from Fleur's lips as she stood and brushed off her knees. The part-Veela then called out, "Monsieur Diggle?"

Fleur started walking towards the ward line.

"Monsieur Diggle?" she called out again. "I know that you are out there. You want to reveal yourself to me, no?"

The French witch frowned when her question went unanswered.

"Monsieur Diggle…you want to come out and show me how excited you are, don't you?"

There was a rustle of movement behind Fleur as a body emerged from the shadows. Bill snapped his concealed wand into his hand, spun towards the rustle and hissed, "Stay down!"

Harry Potter flipped his concealment cloak back over his shoulders and walked towards Bill with his own wand in hand. Once he was within reach he pulled off the cloak and handed it to his liegeman.

"Looks like you need something covered more than I do."

A feminine voice hissed, "Less banter, more focus, you berks!"

Bill glanced in the direction of the new voice and nodded his head.

"Right then…cover my back."

"Cover yourself, while you're at it," Harry quipped. Not waiting for Bill to do so, the Boy-Dressed-in-Black jogged towards the French witch's position. When Harry reached Fleur's side, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I could smell his excitement even before I released my allure," Fleur said. "I can still smell his release. But he is not responding to my call, and I can no longer sense his excitement."

"Maybe he came and went?" Harry asked. "Or maybe he passed out after he came, same way that Ron did on the beach?"

Harry turned towards Bill and Hermione as they walked towards him, with wands drawn and the hoods of their concealment cloaks pulled down. It was an odd and almost unnerving sight; heads without bodies, and wand-wielding hands without arms.

Bill began to systematically cast hominem revelio spells. Fleur could have done the same, but trusted her nose more than the spell. She took a few steps towards the ward line, then stopped short.

"He's here," she announced, pointing towards the ground a few feet in front of her.

The other three quickly gathered by her side. Bill cast a Lumosspell that illuminated a pair of legs, seemingly cut off just above the knees. Trousers pushed down onto boot-covered ankles exposed those knees to the night.

"Looks like the cloak rode up when he fell flat on his back…guess I was right," Harry said with a sigh. He stepped forward and nudged one of the bared knees with the tip of his boot.

"Wakey, wakey, Diggle!"

"Harry, don't!" Hermione hissed.

"What?" Harry complained. "You want me to take the cloak while he's still out for the count?"

"Better than having to explain why he won't need it anymore," Fleur reasoned.

Bill held his wand out and cast a sleeping charm towards one of the knees.

"Go on, then, Harry," he said.

The-Boy-Who-Lived sighed as he squatted down and reached towards where he guessed Diggle's chest would be. Once contact was made he found one edge of the invisibility cloak and pulled it back.

Hermione reached for Fleur's arm when she spotted wrinkled fingers wrapped around a wrinkled penis.

"Come on, we really don't need to see this," she reasoned. "Let's fish that duck out of the pond."

Fleur was quick to agree, and turned away from the body.

Bill cast a couple of Scourgify spells to clean up the cloak lining while Harry worked on the knot that tied the invisibility cloak shut at Diggle's neck. Once the tied ends were free, he pushed the hood back from the wizard's face.

"Same dumb-arse smile that Ron had," he observed, reaching around the back of Diggle's head in an attempt to pull the hood free.

"Ewww…it's sticky back there as well!" Harry hissed.

Bill's eyes widened when the younger wizard pulled his hand free.

"Erm…Harry?"

"Yeah, Bill?"

The curse breaker shined a Lumos spell on Harry's hand.

"That's not spunk…it's blood."

"Shite!" Harry hissed. He squatted down, placed two fingers against the body's neck, and searched unsuccessfully for a pulse. It was then that he noticed that the hand that wasn't holding onto Diggle's bits was pressed against the left side of Diggle's chest.

"Is he….?"

Bill squatted down and said, "Help me roll him over."

The two wizards rolled the body until it was face down. Bill reached out and touched the bloody gash on the back of Diggle's head.

"Maybe he got that bump when he fell backward?" Harry asked.

"Either that, or he got it when somebody clubbed him on the back of the head," Bill replied. He pulled his blood-covered hand back and grabbed the edge of the invisibility cloak.

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed.

"We came here for your cloak, didn't we?"

"But…is he really dead?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, Shite!" Harry shouted.

Fleur and Hermione rushed back to see what was wrong.

"What eez it?" the French witch asked.

"Diggle's dead!"

A look of horror formed on Fleur's face as she looked down at the corpse.

"I killed him!" she whispered.

"You did no such thing!" Bill insisted. "Somebody could have killed him with an Unforgivable…or with a blow to the head." After pulling Harry's cloak free from Diggle's corpse, Bill stood up and sucked in a deep breath.

"Screw the meeting," he decided. "It's time to fly."

"What?" Hermione asked. "You mean now?"

"Yeah," Bill replied. He reached inside his concealment cloak and pulled out a broomstick.

"Get these two out of the country," he told Fleur, passing her the broomstick.

"But what about you?"

"I'll clean this mess up, and fight a rear guard action, if needed."

"Against the goblins or against your parents?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Bill quipped. "Go on, then…mount up."

The younger wizard hesitated, but only for a second before he stepped towards Hermione and asked, "You have the other broom?"

The Muggleborn witch nodded as she reached inside her cloak and retrieved the second broomstick. Harry pulled it from her hands, got it to hover at waist height, then jumped aboard. He reached an arm out and hissed, "Hermione? C'mon!"

"But…Crookshanks?"

"I'll bring him with me," Bill promised.

Hermione thought for a moment, then took Harry's hand and climbed behind him. She wrapped both arms around his chest, only to pull one of those arms free to stop Bill from throwing Harry's invisibility cloak over their heads.

"What about Fleur?" she shouted. "She needs to be covered!"

Bill glanced towards his fiancée, who had already mounted her broomstick. Fleur swung the tip of that stick around and pushed it forward until she was by the other three.

"It wouldn't work," Fleur insisted.

"What do you mean it wouldn't work?" Hermione asked. "It's Harry's invisibility cloak!"

"Yes, it is," Fleur replied. "And how would you two be able to follow me if I was wearing it?"

"But you're still naked!"

The French witch looked down her front, then looked over at the corpse lying on the ground.

"Doesn't matter…it's time to fly," she declared. Fleur then reached out and pulled Bill's head close enough for a desperate kiss.

The curse breaker reluctantly broke free from the embrace and cast a warming charm on Fleur. He then reached out to deliver a light spank to her bum and shouted, "Go!"

The teary-eyed witch nodded, then glanced back towards the other two.

She said, "Stay on my arse, Harry!" then flew up towards the tree tops.

Hermione shook her head as Bill draped Harry's invisibility cloak over their heads.

"It's 'stay on my tail'," she muttered.

"Save the English language lesson for later, sweetheart," Harry quipped.

His girlfriend's retort was swallowed up by a rush of air as Harry kicked the broomstick into gear.

oo00OO00oo

Bill tracked the flight paths from the edge of the Burrow's ward line until the broomsticks dipped into the wooded valley of the River Otter and disappeared from view. He whispered an obscene (but accurate) assessment of the situation, then turned back towards Diggle's corpse.

Two very hacked-off and heavily-armed goblins were there waiting for him.

The head of the surveillance team raised his axe and growled out an insult in Gobbledygook. Chokebar, who was standing next to the warrior, reached up and grabbed the axe handle.

"Hold your edge," he barked. "I'm sure that Curse Breaker Weasley has a perfectly good reason for disobeying my orders."

Bill's wand was in hand, but he was fairly certain that the thrown battle axe would reach him before his curse would reach the goblin. He also knew that the concealment cloak he was wearing wouldn't keep goblin ears from detecting his footfalls. Deciding that a diplomatic approach would be less dangerous, he replied, "No battle plan survives first contact. The situation was fluid…it is still fluid…the field of battle demanded a different path."

"Excuses!" the warrior spat. "Give us one good reason why I shouldn't make an example of you and separate your head from your neck?"

"Because it would make Chokebar's only client very, very angry?" Bill asked.

The Potter account manager shook his head. "True enough. But there is no honor in hiding behind the boy's shirttails."

"If that's how you see it, then so be it," Bill replied. "Know this, though…the client was not happy about the sudden change in plans, and only agreed to them because he feared for Fleur's magic and mine."

"The oaths?" Chokebar asked.

Bill nodded.

"And you weren't worried about these oaths when you helped Profit onto his broomstick and told him to follow Bird's tail?"

Bill pointed his wand away from the two goblins and successfully cast a weakly-powered Lumos spell.

"Still have my magic," he noted. "Fleur couldn't have kept her broomstick in the air if she had lost hers. So either the oaths weren't all that powerful, or Harry really would be safer someplace else. My galleons are on the latter."

Chokebar snorted. "Rather ballsy bit of risk-taking."

Bill shrugged. "There were more important things to worry about, frankly."

"Such as…?"

The red-haired wizard nodded towards the body that lay at their feet. "Either Diggle was brought down by some unseen enemy, or Fleur's allure gave him a fatal heart attack."

Chokebar waved the unstained head of his mace in front of Bill's face. "There's no blood on our hands, and the perimeter is secure. He died of natural causes."

"Heart attack it is, then," Bill replied.

"A poor way to die, with your dick in your hand instead of your sword," the team leader snorted.

"Bah…he was a human," Chokebar spat. "Dying with a smile on his face was a great way to die."

The team leader rolled his eyes and turned back to Bill. "So why did this so-called field of battle require a change in plans?"

Bill let out a deep sigh. "You both know the Ministry's fucked-up attitudes about Veela and other non-human sentients…they'd have Fleur brought up on murder charges in a heartbeat."

"So she needed to leave this place and leave these shores? She could have done that just as easily in a cart."

"Only after waiting for Chokebar's business with Harry to conclude?" Bill asked. "And only after we walked back towards the Burrow?"

Chokebar kicked the corpse over so that it was face up again. He looked down, and asked, "So what evidence would the Ministry have that your mate killed this poor bastard by releasing her allure?"

"Why else would the old fart have been wanking?" Bill asked.

Chokebar smiled, looked up at Bill, then opened his mouth wide enough to allow a belly laugh to escape.

"You think that he died while lusting after your mate? BWAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA!"

Bill nervously glanced around, wondering if the laughter was loud enough to wake the dead. Or his parents. Once the guffaws had been reduced to mere giggles, he turned back to Chokebar and apologized for not seeing any humor in the situation.

"It's not possible that Dedalus Diggle died while rubbing one off in response to your mate's allure," the account manager replied.

"Why is that?"

"Because he was even more bent than Albus Dumbledore!" Chokebar roared with laughter.

"What?" Bill hissed. "You're telling me that Diggle was gay? That Dumbledore is gay?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"But if he wasn't perving on Fleur, then whom was he perving on when he bit the dust?"

The goblin warrior standing beside Chokebar wasn't nearly as intelligent as the account manager. But after fifteen years in the barracks he was smart enough to get the joke, and he proved it by joining Bill's boss in some back-slapping laughter.

Bill didn't think that the unspoken answer to his question was nearly as funny (once he figured it out).

Once this second round of laughter died down, he asked, "Is there any proof that Diggle was a wizard's wizard? There was more than one Order meeting where Fleur caught him aroused and staring her way."

"And where were you when he was looking in her direction?" Chokebar asked.

Bill thought a second, then shook his head and muttered, "Right by her side, damn it."

"Unfortunately for you, we don't have any proof that Diggle was lusting over your…what did Snail Licker call it?" Chokebar asked.

The other goblin snickered. "His turgid manhood? His massive man-meat?"

"Yes, that it's…thanks," said Chokebar. He turned towards Bill and added, "At least no proof that we could offer without revealing our intelligence collection methods."

The team leader nodded. "Not that our testimony would be accepted by the humans, even were that not the case."

"So what do we do now?" Bill asked.

Chokebar considered this questing for a few moments, before pulling a small sack from his belt. He squatted down at the dead wizard's feet and opened the mouth of the bag. Bill didn't know what to think as he watched Diggle's entire body get sucked into the expandable bag's pocket dimension.

The account manager stood, and slipped the small pouch back onto his belt as if it weighed no more than a small number of coins.

"Problem solved," he decided. "Now get me my client back."

Bill said, "He's not going beyond Gringotts' reach. You each still hold leverage over the other."

Chokebar asked, "He knows he can't take control of the wards down there until he claims his lordship and signs the rental agreement, right?"

"Yeah…and that he needs to claim lordship to be shot of Dumbledore and Mum. But that's only after he's safely away."

The goblin warrior asked, "So why did you stay behind?"

"Lots of reasons," Bill replied. "To set things right with you, to cover some tracks, to do some tidying up…"

"The perimeter is secure, and as far as we can tell, those you left inside the building are still sleeping," the Team Leader stated.

"Well that's something, at least," said Bill, as he glanced back towards the path that led to the Burrow. He scuffed up the ground where Diggle's body had rested, then asked, "You do know that there's going to be a shit storm of forensic magic thrown around here in a few hours, right?"

"We're expecting it," the team leader replied.

"So you might want to consider ripping up track and back-filling a few tunnels."

The goblin warrior spat on the ground. "You just worry about your own, curse breaker."

Chokebar shook his head. "I think that he is, actually," he stated. "Weasley is still a Gringotts employee, after all."

Bill smiled. "So you're not going to try to terminate my contract, then?"

The account manager slipped the handle of his spiked mace into his belt and shook his head.

"Not today, my friend…not today."

oo00OO00oo

Hermione had quickly decided that it was a lot harder sharing an invisibility cloak when you were also sharing a broomstick that was cruising at ninety-five miles per hour, two hundred feet above the treetops. At least when compared against all of the other times that Harry and she had used that cloak within the halls of Hogwarts.

The hardest part about their flight was accepting the need for her to ride blind. Had they been walking side-by-side under Harry's invisibility cloak, they could have shared glimpses out the thin gap in between the loosely-held front sides. But piloting a broomstick required a far-more unobstructed view. As a result, while Harry made effective use of the hood, Hermione was truly flying in the dark, shrouded under the robe's gossamer fabric with her cheek pressed against her boyfriend's back.

With thoughts racing in their heads faster than they were flying, and with the strong headwind in their face, neither Harry nor Hermione had said anything since flying out beyond the Burrow's ward line. Until, that is, Hermione felt Harry bring their broomstick to a full stop.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. "Why did we stop?"

"Because Fleur stopped," Harry replied, as he sat up straight on the hovering broomstick and flipped the edge of his invisibility cloak off of Hermione's head.

The Muggleborn took one look at how high they were hovering over the treetops, and quickly pressed her face against her boyfriend's back.

"Don't you want to see the coastline?" Harry asked.

"No, I'll just take your word that it's there, thank you very much."

Fleur swung her stick back around and faced Harry.

"That's the city of Sidmouth," she noted, nodding back over her shoulder. "Once we skirt around it, we've got a couple of options."

Harry shrugged. "I'm happy following you."

Hermione muttered, "Of course you'd be happy, following that view."

"Just in case we are separated," Fleur explained. "If we continued due south, we would eventually reach the French coastline. But it would be a shorter trip across open water if we followed the English coastline up to Dover, and then crossed to Calais."

"It'd be shorter over the water, but longer over British territory," Harry noted.

"Exactly," Fleur agreed. "As a compromise, we can follow the coast east for another forty miles or so, until we reach a red and white lighthouse. If we head out over the Channel from there, it's only seventy miles to Cherbourg."

"Sounds fine to me," said Harry.

"On my arse, then!" Fleur ordered, as she turned her broomstick around and sped off.

"It's tail," Hermione whined, as Harry pulled the cloak back over her head.

"We'll correct her next stop, okay?" Harry asked.

"And she's still naked!" Hermione hissed.

"Erm, yeah…you can correct that as well."

Harry took off before Hermione had the chance to say anything that could be heard above the headwind.

oo00OO00o

The wide turn around the lighthouse and the change in the sea air had clued Hermione into knowing when they had begun to flying over open water. Their airspeed was still high enough to limit conversation, and with the adrenaline rush wearing off, she had decided to keep alert and awake by mentally revising for the O.W.L. examinations that she had sat for two months previous. This was enough of a distraction to keep her from realizing that they were decelerating a second time, until they had come to a full stop.

"Harry?" she whispered. "What's going on? Are we there?"

"Not quite," Harry replied. "But we are far enough along for us to take off this bloody cloak again. You might enjoy the view better."

Hermione let out a little moan as she squeezed Harry and pressed her cheek against his back.

"I'm okay right here," she declared.

A voice behind her called out, "Even so, you will still need to uncover yourselves."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as Harry pulled his invisibility cloak away from her shoulders and brought the full nighttime sky into view. Unfortunately, removing the cloak also revealed the open water below.

"Yikes!" she squeaked, again responding to the instant vertigo by slamming her eyes shut and burying her face into Harry's back.

He brought a hand up off the broom handle and covered Hermione's white-knuckled grip.

"You okay, Sweetheart?"

"Both hands on the handle, Mister!"

"Yes, Dear."

"Oh, Hermione," Fleur called out. "Why can't you enjoy riding on Harry's broomstick?"

"I' don't fancy the risk of slivers?" Hermione quipped. She took a couple of steadying breaths, and then called out, "Fleur?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Why are you behind us now?"

"