Chapter Four: The Plot Thickens

There was no sign of Laetitia. He nodded to the barman, "See any nuns in here lately?"

The barman pursed his lips, "Nuns, nuns, I dunno…Hang on, there was one, headed into the Karaoke lounge out back with a goblin. Maybe that's the one you want."

As Harry approached the door of the lounge he could hear a shrill, flat and loud voice destroying "Unchained Melody."

Now I understand why the Baron had locked up her guitar, Harry confided to himself.

He pushed the door open to see Laetitia on the stage singing to an audience of two, a goblin and a heavily bearded character who was doing damage to a bottle of schnapps at a corner table. Unfinished meals and half empted glasses on the other tables testified to the urgency with which the remainder of the patrons had vacated the room.

Eventually, the dirge came to an end. Laetitia bounded down and kissed the goblin. The goblin, whose face had already far too much make-up smears on it for one kissed by a nun, shot a nervous glance at Harry, excused himself as having to get back to work, and scurried out.

"So I see you have been making new friends." Harry's voice was cold.

"Yes, and look what he gave me!"

She lifted her habit, and Harry swallowed. Her thighs were smooth and inviting. Tucked into her suspender belt were a number of rolled parchments.

"The full banking details of all the Death Eaters I was looking for! Did you get what you wanted in the bank?"

"Hm, yes," gulped Harry. Those thighs… He got his mind back in gear as she let her skirt fall.

"It appears I have an apartment. Would you care to see it?"

"I'd love to, but first I'd better get these parchments back to HQ. Can we meet here in about an hour?"

"Good idea, I can get my luggage from the Baron's place while you are doing that."

"Tell him I won't be back, will you. Say I have an urgent novena to perform, or something."

When they left, the bearded figure in the corner tugged his beard loose, revealing the unmistakable features of Lucius Malfoy.

He laughed loudly in the empty room. "So, after three months as a fugitive from Azkaban, I find that fate places Mr. Potter at my mercy. This should be enjoyable."

He took an owl, some parchment, a quill and ink from his pocket.

"Meet me outside Gringutts in 45 minutes. P.S. Wear an appropriate disguise."

"Whoo."

"What?"

The owl hooted again, and clawed at the parchment. "Very well," Malfoy snarled, and filled in the umlaut. Blasted Swiss owls, punctual to the minute but pedantic beyond belief when it came to spelling.

"Now take this to my damned henchmen."

He stepped outside to wait. Looking at his wrist, he realized he had no watch.

He entered a jewellers. "Give me the best watch you have."

A hundred thousand francs the lighter he came out, feeling the weight of about two pounds of gold, diamonds and tiny handmade components on his wrist. He walked back and forth for a while, then looked at the watch and swore.

By pressing the tiny buttons he could work out the time of high tide in Valparaiso, the beginning of Ramadan in Madagascar, and the time remaining until the opening of the grouse season in Scotland, but it shed no light on the time of day in Zurich.

He cursed, then pressed another combination of buttons and a tiny cuckoo sprang out, almost removing his eye, and hooted thirteen times.

He looked up, swearing under his breath, only to see a small group coming along the street towards him. Groaning, he put his head in his hands.

The Crabbe brothers had contrived to find a cow costume, compete with bell. Gronge, a new recruit, had a complete Vatican Swiss Guard costume, including halberd, and Goyle, the uncle of that brat that hung around with Draco, wore a dirndl, a blonde wig and had an excessive amount of makeup on his stubble covered face.

"Fools, I expected you to blend in, not look like the cast of a bloody Swiss pantomime. Shh, here they come, try to be inconspicuous."

Harry returned in time to see Laetitia get off a tram.

"How did it go?"

She beamed. "Great. They were highly impressed. This could mean promotion. How was the Baron? What did he say?"

Harry swallowed. The castle had been in a state of complete anarchy. Two maids, still in uniform, were outside the gates trying to hitch a ride to anywhere else. A fire crew were dampening down the shell of the nursery. The butler had locked himself in his pantry with a bottle of port and was refusing to come out. Small bands of blonde children were everywhere in the castle, singing complex harmonies as they improved Rubens paintings with crayons, invented bowling games using the Baron's rare Meissen figures, and played soldiers with the contents of the gun room. Harry had not dared to approach the Baron, who was in his study softly singing, "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? " as he fed rounds into the chamber of a pump action shotgun.

"I did not get to speak to him. I suggest you send a polite letter of resignation instead. Let's go look at my apartment."

They walked along the scrupulously clean streets.

"What was that?"

"What, Hank?"

"I thought I heard a cowbell."

Harry opened the apartment door and led her in. It was large and beautifully furnished, but Harry had no eyes for it for now. He took Laetitia's face in his hands.

"You know I love a woman in uniform."

"That's funny, this is a habit I would like to get out of," she giggled.

The doorbell rang. "Special delivery from Gringutts!"

"Gringütts!" Harry automatically corrected as he opened the door. He had a fleeting impression of a cow, someone in a sixteenth century uniform and a huge bearded stranger before a powerful spell flung him senseless to the floor.