ATUHOR'S NOSE: In theory, this is the start of a multi-part fic. In practice, it's probably not going anywhere. But who knows?
"I am not working with this Muggle-loving blood traitor!"
"Well, you'll be happy to know that I don't trust you either."
"How," their employer asked, taken aback, "do you two know each other?"
"You're joking, right?" Fred asked.
"Hogwarts is the only wizarding school for a good dozen countries," Blaise said.
"I'd have been more surprised if we really had been strangers."
The enchanted orb through which their employer insisted on communicating emitted a sigh. "All right. Maybe you're not actually strangers. But you aren't connected aside from having attended school together, right?"
"You can say that again."
"Like I'd associate with him willingly."
"Good enough, then. This is your target." The orb projected a building schematic. "What I want is-"
"I told you I'm not working with him!"
"Forget it, Zabini. There's no getting out now."
Blaise stared at Fred. "How long, exactly, have you been working for him?"
"AHEM." The two turned back to the orb. "Thank you. Now. You'll be going through here..."
"... and once you've gotten it, you can just Disapparate out."
"No anti-Disapparition wards?" Fred asked.
"This person thinks that preventing entry is sufficient. Preventing exit would inconvenience him personally."
"Tch. What an idiot," Blaise said.
"I know, right? If it weren't my job I'd nick something anyway, just out of spite."
"You have your task," the voice said. "Any questions?" Pause. "No? Good."
The orb darkened, signifying that their employer had cut off communications.
A beat.
"So. Foreigner?"
"Probably, yeah."
"Wonder what his game is."
"Well, he probably wants this stolen."
"Oh, really, you think so? How incredibly surprising."
Fred shrugged.
"Intruder alert! Red spy is in the base!"
"A red spy is in the base?"
"Protect the briefcase!"
"We need to protect the briefcase!"
"Good going, Weasley," Blaise muttered into an enchanted acorn cap. "You've blown our cover."
"I've blown it? How do you know it wasn't you?"
"'Red spy'. What do you have that's red? Your hair and your House. What do I have that's red? Nothing! They're clearly talking about you!"
"Pff. Look, I'll head them off at this briefcase they're so concerned about. You get going towards our real target."
"You're really going to let the newbie go after the real target?"
"They've already discovered me, as you've so deftly pointed out. That makes me the distraction. Besides, could you Stun five guards without being seen?"
"Probably!"
"Yeah, well, you haven't got any Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder." A crack, then silence.
"... Aren't you supposed to say 'over and out'? ... Of course, you're not going to hear that. Why do I bother..."
The Fred ruse was a... distaction.
And it worked perfectly. Blaise skulked through the corridors and reached the vault without so much as the sight of a guard.
"All right... time to see what this mysterious, yet highly desirable object actually is."
He opened the vault. He was in no way surprised to see piles of Galleons and handfuls of jewels. He was not expecting entire shelves of antique first-edition literature specifically, but it had been well within the realm of possibility. The thing that really surprised him was, also, quite clearly, his target.
It was a small, smooth, black box. No, "black" is not quite the right word. Most black objects reflect some light; this box was more like a hole in the world.
"Oh, you're kidding." He shook his head, not even bothering to try opening it as he stuffed it into his mokeskin swag bag. He knew this kind of box, and it could only be cracked over the course of several hours with the help of at least three specialized ward-breakers. His target would remain a mystery, most likely forever. "I hate MacGuffin jobs."
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small red sphere, which he prodded with his wand. Then he Disapparated.
