Summary: In what could only be described as an act of God, Sirius manages to convince Dumbledore to let him take Harry out of the country for his summer vacation before Fifth Year. To just get away from the dangers of Britain and see the world in peace, even if it's only for a couple months. A nice trip to Paris, perhaps a day or two in Beijing? How about Rome, Uganda, or Brazil? With magic and adventure hidden around every corner, what wonders await, especially when your name is Harry James Potter.
Harry Potter and the World of Magic
~ Chapter Three ~
"HARRY!"
"OOF!" Next thing Harry knew, the brunette had tackled him with an enthusiastic hug, very nearly sending the two of them to the ground had he not braced himself at the last second, not that the girl noticed. She was too busy squeezing the life out of her best friend, much to the amusement of the adults in the room. "Her-… mio-… ne…! Can't…! Breathe!"
"Oh! Sorry!" The girl immediately stepped back before looking Harry up and down, still unable to comprehend that her best friend really was standing right in front of her… in her uncle's house… in the middle of Paris. "Harry… I-… I mean… How?… What are you doing here?"
"Me? What are you doing here?"
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "Seeing as you're in my uncle's house, I think it's more appropriate for you to answer first. Shouldn't you be with your relatives? Does Dumbledore know that you're here?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait… Your uncle? You mean Léon?"
She nodded.
"Huh… What are the chances…" Harry mumbled, glancing at his godfather to see if he'd known. Judging from the look of surprise on the man's face, he suspected not. "Sirius and I are on vacation. He's taking me on a trip around the world, and France is our first stop. As for your uncle, apparently, Sirius and my dad met him years ago and they became friends. He agreed to let us stay here while we're in Paris. And Dumbledore knows about all this too. He's the one who got us the portkey."
"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione beamed. "I know how much you've wanted to spend some quality time with Sirius. You must be enjoying yourself so much!" She could practically see the difference the trip had already made for her best friend… The tension, the stress, the expectation of an unknown upcoming threat… All of it was gone. And he looked different too, with new glasses, new clothes that actually fit him, and a stylish new haircut that was still messy looking, but in a far more charming way. He looked good. It was almost unreal the difference a week could make. "So, tell me, what have you seen so far? Have you been to the Louvre? Or the d'Orsay? Oh, both are beautiful and there's so much to see there! What about-"
"Ahem," an amused voice broke in from behind them. "Care to introduce us, dear?"
"Oh!" Hermione blushed. She had completely forgotten that there were other people in the room. "Sorry, mum. I know we've all met before, but this is Harry Potter, my best friend at Hogwarts," she said, purposely leaving Sirius out of her introductions since the man hadn't stopped grinning since their somewhat intimate position earlier.
"It's nice to meet you properly, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," Harry said, shaking both of their hands.
"Oh, none of that "Mr. and Mrs." nonsense. Please, call me Jean."
"And you can call me Chris," her husband added good naturedly.
Harry smiled. He had only briefly met Hermione's parents in Diagon Alley in the summer before Second Year, but never got the chance to know them properly thanks to the usual chaos that was a typical Weasley Family outing. But now that they were face to face, and apparently spending the next week together at their relative's home, Harry could take the opportunity to learn a little more about his best friend and her life outside of Hogwarts.
Hermione's mother, Jean, was a slim woman around her daughter's height, with chestnut-brown waves of hair that spilled over her shoulders and sparkling blue eyes, and while not as stunning as someone like Raquel, she nonetheless had a beauty that Harry could see and appreciate, much like her daughter. As for her husband, Chris, the man matched Sirius in height and build, but had shorter dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes that were covered by a pair of stylish glasses. Both had an air of intelligence similar to their daughter and immaculate white teeth, no doubt a result of their professions.
"And since everyone seems to keep forgetting about me, I'm Sirius Black, godfather to the ungrateful brat your equally ungrateful daughter failed to introduce, despite knowing who I am, the little witch," Sirius grumbled, though the effect was ruined by his amused smile.
"So you're the infamous Sirius Black my cousin here has told me so much about," Jean said, shaking the offered hand. "I must say, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Likewise. I see that my reputation precedes me."
"You could say that. I remember him mentioning you and your friend, James, back when you three first met."
A shadow of pain and crushing sorrow flashed across Sirius's face at the mention of his deceased best friend, but he quickly hid it with another smile. "Those were good times… Now that you mention it, did Léon ever tell you exactly how we met?"
Jean frowned, having caught the brief look of sorrow before it was covered up, but a quick glance at Léon, who shook his head furtively, had her refraining from pressing and instead she answered, "He said the three of you met at a cafe or something."
"Is that what he told you?" A positively evil grin spread across Sirius's face as he looked toward Léon, who had turned white. "Léon, how could you lie to your family?!"
"Sirius, don't you dare…"
"Does Raquel know about this?"
"Non, je ne pas (No, he has not)," the French beauty answered, looking equally curious and suspicious of her husband.
"Sirius, you promised you'd never tell!"
"I did no such thing!"
"Yes, you did! You gave me a Marauder's Vow!"
"Exactly! A Marauder's Vow… And the Marauders are about playing pranks, having fun, and, of course, making fun of our friends for the laughter of all and the embarrassment of the victim, which just so happens to be you in this case."
Léon could only gape in horror, looking very much like someone had slapped him with a fish.
"Jean, Chris, Raquel, allow me to tell you what really happened back in the summer of '76. It involves a mouse, a pair of chopsticks, three wheels of cheese, and a lovely woman by the name of Catherine Deneuve…"
"Cher Dieu, sauve-moi…"
Deciding she was better off not hearing something so embarrassing about her favorite uncle, especially since the Marauders were involved, Hermione grabbed her luggage and looked at her best friend. "Let's go upstairs. I'm pretty sure I don't want to hear this."
Chuckling, Harry followed the brunette up to the guest bedroom next to his. "So how long have you and Sirius been here?" she asked, disappearing into the closet with an armful of clothes.
"About a week. Sirius didn't even tell me we were going on this worldwide expedition until the day we left."
"Oh." Hermione didn't even need to look at her best friend's face to know his brow was twitching. Sirius had a talent for inflicting that upon anyone he met. "That must have been annoying."
"You have no idea," Harry grumbled. "Still, it's been loads of fun."
"What have you done so far?"
"We've seen most of the major sites like the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Notre Dame, and the d'Orsay. I've also seen the Catacombs," Harry said, adding that last bit with a shudder. His reaction got a confused look from his best friend, but he refused to elaborate, knowing it would upset her, even with the ordeal past. "I haven't been to the magical sector yet. Léon said we would go there once you and your family arrived."
"I haven't been there either, though it's not for lack of trying." A wistful look crossed the brunette's face. "Uncle Léon and Uncle Alfred have told me so much about places like Place Cachée."
"Wait, Alfred is your uncle too?"
"Not in the conventional sense. He and I aren't related, but I've known him for most of my life and he's always been Uncle Alfred to me. And technically, Léon isn't my uncle. He's my mom's cousin, which makes him my cousin once removed… It's a little wonky, but I've always called him Uncle Léon and he calls me his niece."
"Huh… What is Alfred like? I haven't met him yet."
"You haven't?" the girl said, looking surprised.
"Nope."
A fond smile spread across the girl's lips. "Uncle Alfred is a character."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Imagine Mad-Eye's paranoia, combine it with Professor Dumbledore's twinkly-eyed philosophical views and eccentricities, add a truckload of conspiracy theories, and you've got maybe a quarter of what makes up Uncle Alfred."
Harry blinked. "Uh, okay." He really didn't have a response to something like that.
"You need to meet him to understand."
"Right." Probably best to just change the subject. "Oh, I have a surprise for you."
"Really?" Now this was unusual. In all the years they had been friends, Harry had never been one for secrets or surprises. If anything, he hated them, since it usually resulted in some kind of catastrophe that he'd inevitably get sucked into. "What is it?"
"Now that would be telling," Harry quipped, a smile on his lips. "But if you want to see it now, we can. It's in my room."
"This had better be good, Potter," Hermione gripped, though the excited look on her face ruined the effect. She grabbed the boy's hand and dragged him to the guest room, only to stop upon seeing a beautifully designed trunk resting at the foot of the bed. "Wow, Harry. Did Sirius get you this?" Hermione asked. Unlike his old one, this new trunk was wine red in color, accented with amber veins running across its surface. It was also made of stone, surprisingly enough, something the brunette correctly deduced was done for the purpose of making the runes enchanting the chest more difficult to damage.
"Yeah, Sirius has one too, though his is a brighter red. We got them at Diagon Alley," Harry said, tapping his wand against the top thrice. A loud click followed, after which the lid opened to reveal a spiral set of stairs leading down into the trunk itself. "C'mon. You're going to love this!"
Unable to contain her curiosity, the girl quickly followed her friend into the trunk and soon felt her eyes grow wide in disbelief at what she saw.
"A library… You have a library room in your trunk!" the brunette exclaimed, openly gawking in awe. She knew the trunk was enchanted and that it was similar to the one Harry described Mad-Eye Moody possessing, but never had she expected anything like this!
The room itself was circular, centered by the spiral staircase they had entered from and about the same size as the Gryffindor Common Room, though with a much higher ceiling. Bookshelves (all of which were empty, save for one) lined the burgundy-colored walls with windows streaming artificial sunlight at the north, south, east, and west points of the room, illuminating the place with a golden glow. And if that wasn't enough, Hermione could also see several armchairs and small tables situated throughout the room for comfort.
"It's beautiful…" the girl whispered as a thought crystalized in her mind.
She wanted one.
She would have one.
"C'mon, Hermione!"
Startled, the girl looked down to see Harry already at ground level and heading over to one of the tables. A table that had… Hermione blinked. 'Impossible…' She could not be seeing what she thought she was seeing. It wasn't possible… But, then again, this was her best friend she was talking about here. The boy who regularly ended up doing the impossible. 'I… I need to get closer.' She quickly descended the rest of the stairs and rushed over to the table, staring at the items the entire time.
They looked real.
Tentatively, she touched one… Dear God, they felt real too. Hermione could practically feel the magic coursing through the incredibly rare artifact. "A-Are… Are they-… Harry, are these pensieves?!"
"Yup."
"You're not pulling my leg, are you? These really are genuine, working pensieves?"
"Yup. Well, the ones you're looking at. There are a few incomplete ones over here. Haven't the foggiest on how to finish them since I can't read the bastard's notes," Harry said, muttering the last part.
"Merlin, Harry, where did you get them all?" Hermione demanded, running her hands along the topmost one. She could barely believe that they were real.
"It's a long story. Let's just say I got them from the original source."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I'll explain later. Just trust me that they're real and that one of them is yours."
That got the girl's attention. Hermion's head whipped around so fast that it was a wonder her head didn't fall off. She stared at Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You… You're serious, aren't you?"
A wide grin stretched across the wizard's face as he gave a jovial nod. Harry knew how much Hermione had wanted a pensieve after hearing about the one in Dumbledore's Office. To be honest, he had wanted one too. Unfortunately, Ron had crushed that hope when he explained how rare the magical artifact was and that no one knew how to make them anymore. Apparently, there were only about a hundred working pensieves in existence… until now.
"Harry, do you have any idea how much each of these pensieves are worth?!"
"According to your uncle, over four thousand galleons each."
Hermione's eyes, if possible, widened even further. That was significantly higher than what she had expected. "Four thousand galleons?! Each?! And you're just giving one of them to me? Just like that?"
"Well, yeah," Harry said matter of factly, not really seeing what all the fuss was about. "I was thinking of giving three to the Weasleys too. Ron would have one, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would have one, and they could just sell the other. That should put their money problems behind them."
"That's really sweet of you," the brunette complimented with a smile.
"I just hope they'll accept it without too much fuss."
Both of them knew how anti-charity the Weasleys could be.
Silence fell between them, with Hermione still marveling over the pensieves while Harry mentally reviewed the spell he had been practicing earlier… He'd have to show the brunette the Lair later. According to Sirius, the rooms there were so heavily warded that magic inside would not register with the French Ministry.
"Harry?"
"Hm?"
"How are you really?"
Harry knew what she was asking. He hesitated for a moment, tempted to say he was fine, but knew that she'd never believe him. She always could see right through him. "Honestly, Hermione, I don't know," he admitted, plopping down into one of the armchairs. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving my time here in Paris. Ever since the Tournament, I've felt this need to travel and see the world, and now, I'm doing it! I've seen, and learned, and experienced so much this past week, and I love it. I love every second of it! But at the same time, I feel guilty."
"Because of Cedric." Hermione whispered gently.
"It's been three weeks since he died, Hermione. Three weeks. And here I am, in Paris, enjoying myself." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I feel like I should be back in Britain, fighting or doing something to avenge him! Not be here. It's like I'm insulting his memory. And with Voldemort back, I mean, should I really be here?!"
In his moment of brooding and self-pity, Harry didn't notice Hermione approaching him and almost squawked when he looked up and saw that her face was less than a foot away from his own. Then, a soft hand cupped his cheek and instantly, Harry felt… something within him melt away. There was no judgement, no pity, nothing of that sort in her eyes.
Only concern, affection, and understanding.
"I won't say that you shouldn't feel guilty or tell you what you should do, Harry. I wasn't there that night, so I will never fully understand what you're going through. This is something you need to figure out for yourself… What I can tell you is that I know, from the few conversations we've had with Cedric last year, that he wouldn't blame you for what happened, nor would he want his death weighing you down in any way. And you are most certainly not to blame for what happened."
"But-!"
"No, Harry!" The fierce protectiveness and concern in her eye immediately stopped any refute Harry might have had. "The one who is at fault is V-V-Voldemort!"
Harry's eyes widened. That was the first time she had ever spoken Voldemort's name.
"And as for you travelling, that doesn't mean you can't still prepare, right?"
"… Sirius did say part of the reason for this trip was for me to get some training. I actually just learned a new spell today."
"There you go! You are preparing! You are training! And I'm sure Cedric would want you to enjoy your life, not mourn his death and obsess about training because of something out of your control."
It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Harry could feel himself sag as the crushing guilt lightened… It wasn't gone. Not by a long shot. But it had faded a little, and that in of itself was a greater relief than he knew he needed. And it was all thanks to Hermione. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the girl. "Thank you, Hermione."
"You're welcome," she replied, returning his smile with one of her own… right before it changed into a stern and absolutely terrifying face. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened in the Catacombs or am I going to have to hex it out of you?"
Harry instantly paled. She had that look in her eyes, the one that everyone in Gryffindor knew meant that you either listen to what she had to say and follow it to the letter, or get the hell out of dodge! Unfortunately, the two of them were inside a magically expanded room inside his trunk with only one way out… There was no way he'd make it. Maybe he could talk his way out of it?
"Nothing really happened, Hermione." Okay, now to subtly (not) change the subject. "Anyways, shouldn't we go back up? I'm sure Sirius is done embarrassing your uncle by now," Harry said, standing up.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Harry, what happened?"
'Bugger, she does not look happy.' Based on the look on her face, Harry guessed he had less than ten seconds to talk, or he'd get hexed. It was either that, or run, which, quite frankly, sounded more appealing than explaining what had happened. "Well, you see…"
He bolted.
"Harry James Potter!"
He didn't make it.
~Scene Break~
Back down in the living room, unaware of his godson's plight, Sirius was finishing up his story of how he and Léon first met, much to the amusement of everyone save for his mortified host. "And then… heh, heh… And then, Léon, with his face redder than a tomato, crawls out from under her dress with melted cheese dripping off his face, stammers out an apology, and then runs off with the police chasing after him! He barely escaped!"
This hilarious image kicked off another round of uproarious laughter.
Jean, between her snickers, could not resist asking, "Is this why you refuse to watch Lovers Like Us all those years ago? Because she's in it?!"
"Mon dieu," their horribly embarrassed man moaned. "Quelqu'un m'a mis hors de ma misère, se il vous plaît!"
"Aww, lighten up, Léon," Sirius cackled. "It's all in good fun!"
"For you, maybe!"
"And everyone else in the room! I mean, look! Raquel still hasn't stopped laughing!"
"She's going to tease me about this for months. I just know it…"
"I most certainly will, mon amour."
"You should tell your parents about this, Jean."
"Hah! Brilliant idea, Chris!"
"NO! Please don't!"
"You can't stop me! Hah hah!"
"Look what you did, Sirius!"
"I could've told them about that one time at the Eiffel Tower-"
"Say anymore, and no one will find your body, magic or not!"
"Okay, okay! I'll stop, hehe."
Léon just sighed and checked his watch. "As wonderful as this conversation has been, Raquel and I need to get going. We have an appointment in a few hours."
Jean and Chris both frowned at this unexpected announcement, but the look that passed between them also told Sirius that they knew something he didn't. This became all the more apparent when Jean shot a sideway glance toward him before looking back at her cousin, silently asking a question to which Léon shook his head to and simply said, "Neither."
She sighed. "How long will you be out?"
"I should be back in the morning at the latest. I want to finish as quickly as possible so that we can spend more time together."
Jean's eyes soften at the explanation. "You be careful," she whispered, giving the man a tight hug.
"Do not worry, chère sœur. Alfred will be monitoring everything and you know how he is."
An amused smile graced the woman's lips. "Tell Alfred to come by later. Hermione misses listening to all his conspiracy theories."
"I'll be sure to pass the message along." The man turned to glare at his guest. "And you."
"Me?" Sirius asked, pointing at himself with the most innocent look he could muster.
It failed miserably.
"No more embarrassing stories while I'm gone, or I'll tell Harry that."
Sirius turned white. To this day, the wizard had yet to figure out how Léon had pulled that off. He could still feel phantom pains and absolutely crushing embarrassment from that incident. "Agreed. My lips are sealed."
Léon just smiled viciously before the couple left.
Silence followed.
"So." Sirius looked at Jean, who looked far too curious for the wizard's comfort. A shiver went down his spine. "What was that about?"
A Marauder never shied away from an embarrassing moment, be it their own or another. He was Sirius Black, a powerful and jaw-droppingly sexy wizard, dammit. He would not be cowed. He would not give in. And he would not, under any circumstances, be afraid of this woman-Oh dear Merlin, she had the same predatory smile Léon had. Quick! Escape maneuver number Twenty-Four! "It was nothing… So, how about I get the kids and we head out for dinner?"
Because we all know changing the subject and running away works so well.
Like godson, like godfather, right?
~Scene Break~
It was sometime after 2:00 AM when Harry found himself startled awake. His mind still fuzzy, the wizard tried to figure out what had woken him at the dead of night when all of the sudden, he heard an unfamiliar voice shouting from downstairs.
"Chris! Jean! Wake up! We have an emergency!"
'Wait, what?' It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, Harry was wide awake. 'This guy knows Hermione's parents… What's going on?' Confused and more than a little wary, the teen grabbed his wand and exited his room. Quietly, he crept down the stairs and peeked around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder.
What he saw was… surprising, to say the least.
The man was short… and slightly chubby as well. This was something of a strange sight for Harry who, after being around Léon and Raquel, both of whom were quite tall and thin, so much in the past week, had begun to subconsciously think that most French people were of the same build. Especially since most of the locals he actually took notice of (cough… French girls… cough) were all of the same vein. So, to see a bespeckled and balding man who couldn't be taller than five foot three at most inside Léon's penthouse was more than a little perplexing.
Unfortunately, Harry wasn't as quiet as he had thought, because the moment he peeked around the corner, the man turned to face him.
"Chris? No, you're not Chris. Who are you?" he demanded.
"Who am I? Who the bloody hell are you?! You're the one intruding at two in the morning!" Harry gripped back, his wand hidden behind his back, but ready should the intruder try anything.
"Intruding? Please, with the right tools, the world is an open oyster ripe for the taking."
"… What?"
"Kids these days never read… I'm not intruding, kid. I have a key."
"Oh."
"Harry? Who are you talkin-Alfred? Is that you?"
Much to Harry's relief, the rest of the household chose that moment to appear, no doubt having been woken from the noise.
"Chris! Jean! There you are! We've got a serious problem!"
"What?" Jean asked, running a hand through her messy hair. "What are you talking about?"
"It's Léon and Raquel. Something went wrong with the job! They're trapped in the Louvre!"
That woke everyone up.
"Wait, what?!"
"The Louvre?!"
"What are they doing at the Louvre?"
"I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but somehow Léon tripped one of the alarms. The entire museum is on lockdown and the police will be on site in a few minutes!"
"What about Raquel?" Jean asked, quickly taking command of the situation.
"Same, trapped in the Louvre."
"And when did this happen exactly?"
"The alarms went off three and a half minutes ago."
"Are you in communication with them at all?"
"Unfortunately, no. The Louvre's security system monitors all frequencies going in and out of the museum. We had to stay dark for the job to work."
However, before Jean could ask any more questions, Sirius cut in. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up! Will someone please tell us what's going on here? Why are Léon and Raquel in the Louvre at this hour?!"
"Sirius! Now is not the time for this!" Jean snapped.
"Like sodding hell it is! I want to help Léon too, but this is all just too much! You lot are making it sound like the two of them are art thieves or something!"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"Bugger. They are thieves, aren't they?"
"They're stealing a painting."
"Alfred!" Jean cried, looking at the man in shock.
"What choice do we have, Jean?!"
"But-!"
"It can't be helped now. What's done is done. And maybe they can provide some magical help!"
Throughout all this, Harry could only look on in a state of stupefied shock.
Léon and Raquel were con-artists?
Hermione's uncle was a thief?!
Unbelievable!
Impossible!
Inconceiv-Well… 'Then again…' The more Harry thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Since their very first meeting, there had always been something about the two Frenchmen that wasn't normal. Something different. At first, the young wizard had thought it was because they were both extraordinarily charming and attractive people, but now… Now, it was all coming together. The little things he had noticed, like the way they could disappear into crowds, or how they had friends and contacts everywhere, or how they seemed to know all of the city's back alleys and shortcuts.
Jean apparently already knew, and so too did her husband, if the pacing was anything to go by. A glance at his best friend was all the confirmation Harry needed to see that Hermione had also known of her uncle's illegal career choice, and amazingly enough, she seemed okay with it! It was something of a surprise to Harry, having always associated the girl with wanting to follow the rules.
That being said, she had agreed to go after the Philosopher's Stone with him and Ron in their First Year.
And she did make a Polyjuice Potion during their Second Year.
She had also used her Time Turner to rescue Sirius, which, despite how unjust the entire situation had been, was all kinds of illegal.
And he could never forget her actions against Rita Skeeter, which went well beyond illegality.
Huh… Maybe this wasn't as surprising as he had originally thought.
"Alright, I'll freak out about this later," Sirius grumbled. "Do you have any idea what went wrong with their little heist? I mean, what painting were they trying to steal anyway?"
"The Oath of Horatii," Alfred replied distractedly. "But I don't understand what went wrong?! We quadruple checked all the security measures, all the blueprints, the layout, the patrol schedules and routes, everything! It was supposed to be an easy job. They go in, switch out the painting, and get out. We even lucked out with the window being in the correct wing!"
"The Oath of Horatii. Never heard of it," Sirius muttered to himself. "Who's the artist?"
"Jacques-Louis David."
"Hmm… Nope, still drawing a blank. I don't think the artist was a wizard, but maybe the painting is on loan or something from a magical family? If that's the case, there would have been security charms underneath the usual safety features. They must have tripped them."
"No, that can't be right. We always take magic into account," Alfred said. "The original owners aren't magical. If they were, we would've brought special tools to remove any enchantments or declined the job."
"Will any of the guards be magical?" Hermione asked, her hair more frazzled than normal.
"Maybe," Sirius shrugged. "But this is something of a gray area if neither the art or its owners are magical."
"Can't you just apparate them out?" Harry piped in.
Sirius shook his head. "All major non-magical sites are magically protected. The more important the place, the stronger the enchantments. A place like the Louvre is probably as heavily warded as Hogwarts. We might be able to use magic to get in, but I doubt we'd be able to get out before the French aurors are all over us."
As much as Jean had been hoping to hear differently, Sirius's reveal of how the magical and non-magical world intermingled made sense. Otherwise, what's to stop a witch or wizard from robbing a bank, or stealing state secrets, or, hell, assassinating the bloody Queen of England? Unfortunately, that also ruled out several options, much to the woman's frustration. "Alfred, how did Léon and Raquel get into the Louvre in the first place?"
It was clear the con artist did not want to reveal any more secrets, but a glance at Jean and his concern for his friends quickly won over his usual tight-lipped-ness. "We hacked their security a month ago and isolated one of the windows on the second floor from the main system so that even if it was smashed open, it wouldn't be reported. We were also able to take control of their lighting system to keep the entire place dark, but I'm sure they'll be fixing that soon enough. Same with the looped cameras in the area."
"And their escape route?"
"Same as the entrance."
"You couldn't make a second hole?" Jean asked, clearly surprised.
"No, the Louvre's security is too tight. Honestly, it was pure luck that we were able to make that single opening without anyone noticing."
Jean lapsed back into silence, her mind clearly trying to use this new information to form some kind of rescue plan for her cousin and his wife. Unfortunately, she wasn't getting anywhere. Every plan she thought up was immediately discarded, be it due to not enough people, time, or equipment. 'I can't let Léon get caught… C'mon, Jean, think… THINK!' She knew that magic was going to be their saving grace, but there were too many unknowns. She needed more information. But first… "Sirius, before we discuss this any further, I want to make this clear. It is highly likely that our best rescue plan will require magic, and since I refuse to involve the kids, that means we'll be looking to you. And as much as I want to rescue Léon and Raquel, I am not going to assume or force you to help us," Jean said with a grimace. "Whatever plan we come up with could fail, and that could come back to bite us. So, if you want to walk away from this-"
"Jean, stop," Sirius cut in, raising a hand. "Léon and Raquel are friends. I'm not about to leave them out to hang. We'll save them together… He'll just owe me one hell of an explanation after all this is over."
The lady Granger shot the man a grateful smile before turning back to business. "So, how would you find them if you got inside?"
"I'm an animagus," the Englishman replied, changing into Padfoot for a moment before switching back. "In that form, I should be able to find them by scent. The real question is how I'm going to get in and out without being seen or detected."
"Wait, didn't you say you could get in with magic?"
"No, I said I might. It really depends on how many magical protections were activated, and that's assuming the painting even had any spells protecting it. It's not like this is something I've done before. I'm not a thief or a cursebreaker. This is just some stuff I learned over the years."
"You don't think there'd be magic on all the art?"
"No," Sirius shook his head. "Even though the Wizarding World recognizes that magic can be used to exploit the Non-Magical World, we don't actively try to safeguard it unless it personally impacts us or can lead to a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. Putting spells on all the art would have resulted in the latter eventually."
"So, if it was a spell that triggered the alarm, it's likely the painting is on loan or something from a magical family."
"It would make sense."
"And you're certain that the painting they're targeting isn't magical?"
"Positive. If it was, the aurors would already be here."
"Okay, so then let's assume that the painting belongs to a magical family. What's the procedure? What kind of magical spells would be activated from trying to steal it?"
"Unfortunately, I don't have the foggiest idea. Like I said, I'm not the kind of wizard who deals with this thing. I mean, there's probably the usual stuff like Anti-Disapparation and Anti-Portkey to stop instant transportation, but that kind of magic was probably cast on the building itself, not the painting. Beyond that, I can't even begin to guess. And I have no idea if or when the French Ministry of Magic will get involved. For all I know, since the painting itself isn't magical, they might not do anything until the item is recovered since technically, the people who loaned it to the museum were accepting the risk of theft."
"Is it possible for there to be something like tracking or a trap on or triggered by the painting?"
"Yeah, but if they had, there's a fair chance they would've been caught by now," Sirius said, looking at the clock affixed on the kitchen wall. They had been talking for ten minutes now, meaning that Leon and Raquel had been trapped in the Louvre for nearly fifteen. More than enough time for the French Aurors to have arrived on scene and capture them if magic had been involved. "Based on the time and the fact that the aurors haven't appeared, I'm starting to think there might not have been any spells on the painting."
"You think?"
"Not 100%, but, yeah, pretty sure."
"But that would mean I missed something," Alfred muttered, looking horrified at the thought, before suddenly becoming angry. "Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have trusted that info Marceau sold me! Ever since Raquel pick-"
"Not the time, Alfred."
"But Jean-!"
"Alfred!" she snapped. "Forget about where you got the info! Focus! No magic means it'll be easier to rescue them."
"Right… Sorry. Do you have a plan?"
Dear Lord, Jean wished she did. "Nothing yet. You?"
"No, I thought about trying a Jim Brown, but-"
"Too much attention."
"Exactly. A Miss Daisy?"
"At this point, too late."
"Rita Hayworth?"
"Not enough time, and you know neither Léon or Raquel would approve."
"Irwin Allen?"
"That could work if we had the equipment to do it."
"… Blind Man's Bluff?"
"… Seriously?"
"We have a dog!"
"Oh, come on!"
"Well, we do!"
"You know that would never work!"
"I know… I'm grasping at straws here, Jean."
"Are you following any of this?" Sirius whispered.
"Nope," Harry replied. "Hermione?"
"I'll tell you later."
"Wait, you understood all that?!"
"Later, Harry," the brunette muttered, deep in thought. Like her mother, she too was trying to figure out a way to help her uncle, only she had a far superior understanding of the magic they had at their disposal. And it was thanks to that she knew of one way to get in and out of the Louvre without anyone being the wiser… She just needed her best friend's permission first. "Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you bring your Invisibility Cloak with you?"
Harry's eyes widened, as did everyone else in the room. "Yeah!"
"Wait, you have an Invisibility Cloak?!" Alfred demanded. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!
"I didn't think of it," the teen admitted. "But this is great! We can rescue Léon and Raquel with it!"
"It'll help, but I'm not sure that's going to be enough," Chris said, speaking up for the first time. "By now, the Louvre will be crawling with police and they've probably set up guards on all entry points. Our only way in or out will be through the hole Alfred made, but he said that's up on the second floor."
"The cloak also isn't big enough to cover three adults," Sirius added. "Chris is right. It'll help, but we're going to need more to this plan. How am I supposed to get in if the window is on the second floor?"
"Can you float yourself up or something?"
"Not if we want the French Ministry to show up. Pretty sure the Louvre is being closely monitored for magic, especially after the alarms were tripped."
"Wait, what about your ability to change into a dog? Won't that trigger their alarms?"
"My animagus transformation isn't a spell, it's a magical ability. It's… internal magic, a skill, for lack of better words. Completely undetectable. Same with the Invisibility Cloak. Its ability to hide the wearer is caused by its enchantments, not from any magical casting. The Ministry can only detect magic that's been cast, like spells or charms. Magical abilities and enchanted items won't be detected-"
"THAT'S IT!" Jean suddenly exclaimed, making everyone jump. It was like a light had been lit in her head. She knew they had been close to a solid rescue plan, but there were key parts that needed to be hashed out before they could proceed. Primarily, how they were going to physically get in and out without anyone seeing them. But now, armed with this new information, she knew what they needed to do. "Sirius? Harry? Do either of you have flying brooms?"
Alfred's eyes lit up, quickly catching on to Jean's idea. "We could do a Wally Burns!"
Jean nodded. "That could work! One of us could go and-"
"Flying brooms only work for wizards and witches, Jean. That means…"
"Really?"
"Yeah. And if we want this to work, we'll need both of them."
That was not something she wanted to hear. "Bugger. Do we have a choice?"
"Unfortunately, no."
"This won't be easy, you know. None of them have any experience in this. And we won't be able to guide them."
"Difficulties mastered are merely opportunities won. I'm sure they'll use what we teach them in the future."
"Wait, wait, wait," Sirius cut in. "What are you two talking about? What's a Wally Burns?"
"It's a plan," Jean explained, though she looked very uncomfortable. "One I don't think anyone here is going to like."
~ Scene Break ~
"We are so screwed."
"Gee… Great pep talk."
"I try."
"No, you don't."
"You just can't understand the sheer awesomeness of my speech."
"What speech? You just said that we're screwed!"
"Exactly. Which will inspire all of us to try even harder to succeed, thus ensuring our success!"
"What kind of convoluted logic is that?!"
"My logic. And because it's mine, it's infallible."
"More like impossible. You're mad."
"Would you two shut up?!" The two bickering figures immediately cowed at the angry glare their third and final companion was shooting at them. "Honestly, the two of you are acting like five year old children. We can't afford to be goofing off at a time like this!"
"Sorry," the two muttered.
"We're approaching our destination. Make sure your charms are still active. Remember to keep quiet."
With a nod, the camouflaged trio swooped down and brought their brooms to a hover several dozen meters above the museum. Thankfully, their arrival went unnoticed, courtesy of Sirius's Disillusionment Charms, and the three took comfort in the dozen plus guards scouring the grounds, no doubt searching for intruders. That fact alone raised their hopes that neither Léon nor Raquel had been caught.
Not yet, at least.
Spurred by that worrying thought, the three quickly descended down to the window Alfred had separated from the Louvre's security system and opened it. There had admittedly been some concern that their hole might've been discovered since the alarms went off, but thankfully, their fears proved unfounded as the window swung open without any reaction from the guards below.
Satisfied, one of the disillusioned figures broke off and flew toward the opposite side of the Louvre, leaving the remaining two behind to wait… and wait… and wait some more, until finally, after what felt like hours, the guards began shouting at one another and running off.
This was their chance.
The two silently directed their brooms through the open window, making sure to close it behind them lest it attract attention. They were now in the Sculpture Garden in the Richelieu Wing, where the beautifully crafted sculptures appeared almost alive in the moonlight. But the duo paid this no mind. Their minds were utterly focused on their task. Fortunately, the room was empty upon their arrival.
"All clear," the taller of the duo whispered when it became apparent that no one was coming. "Hide the brooms and get moving. We'll rendezvous back here in thirty." His companion nodded. "Remember, we cannot use magic here, so make sure you stay out of sight."
"You too."
"I will. You stay safe. I'll see you soon." The man's disillusioned body suddenly began to shrink, transforming into something that remained unseen before darting off in one direction.
'Alright, I'd better get moving. But Merlin, why does this kind of thing always happen to me?! I'm supposed to be on vacation!' was the thoughts of one Harry James Potter. Yes, the young teen had gotten sucked (volunteered) into helping. It really was the only way, unfortunately, as it turns out brooms needed magic to work. So, he had to come along, and it was his task to find Raquel. Fortunately, the French beauty should be nearby. According to Alfred, unless an escape suddenly presents itself, the thieves' usual contingency plan for when a job goes awry was to wait by their rendezvous point and see if their friends would be able to rescue them. Harry just needed to find her.
That being said, it was far too dangerous for both of them to be hiding in the same area, especially if they still had the painting in their possession. One of them (most likely Léon being the gentleman that he was) would probably stay on the move, ready to act as a distraction or even bait if the guards began closing in.
Finding him was Sirius's job, who as Padfoot, would have a far easier time locating the man than Harry would.
Especially since he was already having trouble finding Raquel.
'Blast, where is she?' Harry thought from under his Invisibility Cloak. So far, he wasn't having any luck and his nerves were understandably all over the place. He could practically hear his heart pounding against his chest, so loudly that a small part of him actually feared that someone would find him from the noise. But all of these sensations were drowned by the roaring and exhilarating feeling that was building inside him. This feeling… The anticipation and the adrenaline that burned within him… It was something else.
Something he had recently felt only days ago, in a long lost crypt.
With that strange exhilaration pushing him, it only took moments for Harry to arrive at the rendezvous point. He didn't dare call out, in case someone other than Raquel was nearby, but instead quietly stalked around the room, particularly around the windows. Alfred had mentioned that the French beauty typically hid around such areas.
Unfortunately, she wasn't here.
'Bugger.'
The next two rooms yielded similar results, much to Harry's growing concern. They were running out of time. The small window their companion had given them earlier was undoubtedly spent by now. 'I really hope Sirius is having more luck than I am.'
~ Scene Break ~
"Woof!"
"Si-"
"Grrr…"
"Sorry. Padfoot, right?"
"Woof!"
"I can barely see you… What are you doing here?!"
"Woof! Woof!"
"I can't speak dog, salaud! Did you knock out that guard? How did-DON'T PEE ON HIM!"
~ Scene Break ~
'Yeah, I'm sure he's fine,' Harry thought. Taking another glance around the room, the teen turned to leave, only to catch a slight movement out of the corner of his eye.
He immediately stopped to take a better look. All he could see was shadows… But maybe… Could it be?
'Is that…? THERE!' The shadow had moved again and it was only because Harry was specifically looking for it that he actually caught the slight movement. Creeping closer, he looked around once more to make sure no one else was near before whispering the code phrase Alfred had given him, "I saw a mockingbird in the park."
Silence… Then, "What color was the mockingbird?"
Harry smiled. That was it.
The shadow shifted again before a beautiful and understandably haggard French beauty appeared. "`Ar-?"
"Shh! No names…"
"Mes excuses." Raquel squinted, clearly trying to focus on Harry's disillusioned form, but was unable to in the darkness of the room. "Is that really you? I cannot see you."
"Yeah, it's me. You can't see me because I'm disillusioned right now. We need to go, now!"
"But ze guards! Zey vill see me!"
"I got something to help you with that. Here." Harry quickly handed the Invisibility Cloak to the woman. Seeing her confusion, he simply said, "Put it on."
Not seeing any reason not to, Raquel did so and immediately gasped upon seeing her body disappear from sight. "Mon Dieu!"
"Make sure you're completely covered. Now, c'mon!" Harry hissed, taking the woman's hand under the cloak. "We need to get to the rendezvous point now."
"Montrer la voie (Lead the way)."
The duo quickly hurried down the hall, taking care to be as quiet as possible. Fortunately, their journey went uninterrupted and they were soon back in the Statue Garden in the Richelieu Wing, behind the famed statue, Equestrian Fame of Louis XIV.
"We're here," Harry whispered. "The others should be arriving soon."
"Zere! I see zem," Raquel whispered, tugging at his right side. A relieved smile broke across Harry's lips upon seeing Léon and the distorted shape of his godfather in his animagus form moving toward their location.
Moments later, Sirius had transformed back into his human form. "You guys there?"
"We're here, Padfoot. Mission accomplished."
Léon's eyes widened. "Is that-?"
"Yeah, but no names. Just in case."
"I know, I know, don't worry. I just… I don't know how I can repay you both…"
"You can thank us by answering our questions after we've escaped," Sirius snapped, feeling understandably a little irritated about the whole situation. "You owe us some answers."
"Of course," the Frenchman agreed, before looking at the disillusioned figure of his younger guest. "Just now, you said "Mission accomplished"... Does that mean-?"
"I am `ere, mon amour," Raquel answered, partially shedding the Invisibility Cloak to desperately embrace her husband.
"Dieu merci (Thank God)," Leon muttered, burying his face into the woman's hair and sagging in relief. "Dieu merci, vous êtes bien. (Thank God, you're alright.)"
"Et vous aussi. (And you too)"
"Hate to break this up, but we need to get going," Sirius interjected. "Now."
"Right, sorry. What's the plan?"
"Brooms. You're piggybacking with me."
"Sounds good. Let's get out-" All of the sudden, what could only be described as the sensation of being hit with a bucket of ice cold water washed over them. "GYAH! What was-Merde! I can see you!"
"Bollocks!" Sirius cursed. "They must've activated some kind of ward that stripped away my Disillusionment Charms!"
"Why are they activating it now?" Harry wondered.
"Does it matter?" Léon hissed. "Alfred was able to hack this room's cameras, so we're clear for now, but we got to move! Padfoot, help me strap the painting to your broom. Mon amour, can you keep a lookout?"
"Oui," the woman answered, throwing back on the Invisibility Cloak as she moved toward the nearest entry way. Unfortunately, the second she got there, she immediately hurried back. "Someone is coming!"
"Merde! ETA?"
"A minute at most."
"There's no way we can get out of here in time without the guard seeing us!" Sirius cursed. He whirled on his godson. "Get under the Invisibility Cloak! I am not letting you get arrested here."
"But-!"
"No buts! Just do it!"
Before Harry could argue any further, Raquel's hand shot out and yanked the teen under the Invisibility Cloak with her. Any words of protest died the second he felt two very soft, very large pillows press against his back. And despite the situation, the young wizard could only do one thing… He blushed. Damn hormones.
"Got any ideas?" Sirius asked, looking at Léon.
"One… Give me your shirt."
"Wha-?"
"Hurry!"
"Fuck, fine!" Sirius ripped off his shirt, leaving him topless. "Now what?!"
"Change into your dog form and follow my lead," the Frenchman answered, throwing on the shirt to hide his black burglar attire before moving the painting and brooms behind a nearby statue. "You're going to be my guard dog."
Understanding dawn on the wizard's face as he transformed into a familiar shaggy black dog, and just in time as a truly massive man arrived on the scene with a bark. "Toi là! (You there!)"
"Bonsoir, Monsieur," Léon grunted, his whole demeanor changing from that of a professional thief caught in a dangerous situation to someone with an air of being tired and annoyed, as if he had been forced to go to work in the middle of the night.
In other words, he looked exactly like a security guard.
"Je ne te reconnais pas. Identifiez-vous! (I do not recognize you. Identify yourself!)"
"Dominque Blanc, Monseiur," Léon replied. "Vous? (You?)"
There was a beat of silence, and then, "Edmund Moulin. Que fais-tu ici? Je pensais que j'étais le seul à chercher dans cette zone. (What are you doing here? I thought I was the only one searching this area.)"
"Je pensais la même chose. On m'a ordonné de fouiller cette zone avec Renaud ici pour voir si nous pouvions ramasser quelque chose (I thought the same thing. I was ordered to search this area with Renaud here to see if we could pick up something)," Léon said, pointing to the dog sitting at his side. "Le patron n'a pas dit qu'il y aurait quelqu'un d'autre ici. Typique. (The boss didn't say there would be someone else here. Typical.)"
The guard seemed to relax at Léon's little quip at the higher ups. "Je connais. (I know.)"
"Je ferai une autre patrouille de la salle avant de passer aux sculptures françaises du Ve au XVIIIe siècle. (I will do another patrol of the room before moving to the French Sculptures from the 5th to the 18th century.)"
"D'accord, je vais tête en arrière et cherche la salle avec la salle d'art Mesopotamian. (Okay. I'll head back and search the Mesopotamian Art Hall.)"
"Ça m'a l'air bien. Espérons que nous allons attraper cet intrus bientôt afin que nous puissions tous rentrer à la maison (Sounds good. Hopefully we'll catch the intruder soon so that we can all go home.)"
"Ça m'a l'air bien. Espérons que nous allons attraper cet intrus bientôt afin que nous puissions tous rentrer à la maison. (Sounds good. Hopefully we'll catch the intruder soon so that we can all go home.)"
Edmund laughed, turning to leave. "Ouais… Au fait, qu'est-ce que les poste travaillez-vous? (Yeah… By the way, what shifts do you work?)"
Léon mentally cursed. They had been so close! He had been about to leave! And now, he was asking a question that would make or break their little ruse. "Nuit déplace tous les jours sauf le mercredi (Night shifts every day except Wednesdays)."
The guard stopped. He turned back to face them and suddenly seemed to tower over them even more so than before. "Ce sont les mêmes moments où je travaille et je sais que je ne t'ai jamais vu auparavant. (Those are the same times I work and I know I've never seen you before.)"
"Vraiment? Peut-être que nous avons juste continué à manquer l'autre (Really? Maybe we just kept missing each other)," Léon replied nonchalantly, cursing even more in his head. Of course he would pick the same days and times the man worked. Was he compromised? No, he could still make this work. Just play it cool and don't panic. "Écoutez, je ne sais pas comment nous ne nous sommes pas rencontrés auparavant, mais je veux finir ça et rentrer bientôt. Nous devons retourner au travail. (Look, I don't know how we haven't met before, but we should get back to the search.)"
"Maintenant, maintenez le ici! (Now, hold on here)!" the patrol demanded, clamping his hand down on Léon's shoulder as he tried to turn away.
Big mistake.
Next thing anyone knew, Léon had grabbed the guard's wrist and twisted… hard. He then swifty snapped the locked out arm with a precise strike to the joint, before maneuvering his injured captive onto his knees with a stomp to the legs. Two more punches to the face and throat effectively cut off any chance of screaming, which was then followed up with an elbow to the back of Edmund's head, thus ensuring that the guard would stay silent for the foreseeable future.
And throughout all that, Léon hadn't said a word or looked remotely fazed by his sudden act of violence.
"Sweet Merlin," Sirius whispered, having transformed back just to stare in shock at what he had seen.
Raquel didn't react whatsoever.
Clearly, this wasn't the first time she'd seen something like this before.
"That…" Harry couldn't find the words. "That…" In less than five seconds, his charismatic host turned thief had somehow taken down a man a half foot taller than him and likely weighed a few dozen pounds more! What could he possibly say to something like that?… "That was bloody awesome!"
Léon didn't say anything, instead looked directly at Sirius and asked, "Can we go now?"
"Err… Right."
~ Scene Break ~
Thankfully, the rest of their rescue operation went off without any more incidents. In short order, the group of four strapped the stolen painting to Sirius's broom, split into pairs, and took off, escaping from the museum through the very hole they had entered in the first place. Twenty minutes later (with several doublebacks to throw any would-be pursuers off their trail), they were back at the penthouse, where they were greeted (read: bowled over) by a relieved brunette.
"Oh my God, Léon!" Jean sobbed, throwing her arms around her cousin in a tight hug. "You're okay… you're really okay!"
The Frenchman smiled, the weight of the evening's events falling from his shoulders as he held the woman close. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Jean."
"I think I have a pretty good idea," the woman muttered, stepping back with a watery smile… before walloping the man's arm. Hard.
"OW! What was that for?!"
"Do you really need to ask?!"
"But-!"
"If it isn't already obvious, that was for worrying me sick and forcing me to send a couple kids to save your sorry arse!"
Léon blinked. "Wait, what?"
"You heard me!" Jean said, glaring at him. "The only way we could get you both out without being seen was by doing a Wally Burns! And since we had to use magic brooms, guess who had to be the distraction?"
"Me," a voice said behind him.
The Frenchman whipped around and felt his jaw drop as his niece, dressed in black and looking remarkably like a cat burglar, emerged from the darkened hallway. "H-Hermione?"
"Hi, Uncle Léon," the brunette smiled. She had returned to the penthouse after creating the distraction that let Harry and Sirius sneak inside per Alfred and her parents' instructions, and had understandably spent the next hour in a right state. But now, as she threw her arms around the man in a hug similar to her mother's, all the stress and worry bled away. She sagged, burying her face into her uncle's chest. "I'm so glad you're alright."
Léon smiled, "I am, thanks to you, mon cher."
Hermione just hugged him tighter.
He looked up. "Thank you… All of you. Especially you two," the Frenchman said, nodding at his two English guests. "Without your help, I am sure Raquel and I would be in the hands of the authorities by now. You have our sincerest thanks."
"Oui," Raquel said, a beautiful smile on her face. "Zank you so much."
Sirius just waved them off. "It's fine. Just don't make us do something like this again."
Léon's eyes sparkled in amusement. "I will try my best. Marauder's Honor."
Sirius barked a laugh. "You're learning. Good!"
"Let's go to the kitchen. We can continue talking there," Léon sighed. "And I don't know about any of you, but I could really use a drink."
The group tiredly moved over to the kitchen, where they were greeted by the missing members of their group, both of whom were nursing a glass of wine from an empty bottle of Château Latour… That brought a twitch to Léon's brow. "You know," he drawled. "I'd appreciate it if you'd replenish my supply whenever you diminish it."
"Léon! Raquel!" Alfred exclaimed, jumping to his feet to embrace his friends. "You made it!"
"Yes, Alfred. And we have the painting too."
The short Frenchman lit up even more. "Excellent! I'll have everything set up in a couple days. Where did you stash it?"
"After everything that has happened in the past couple hours, I haven't had the time or energy to hide it."
"So…"
"In the hallway. You mind taking it for the night?"
"Sure. I'll stash it at Tuesday."
"Not Wednesday?"
"Still updating its systems."
"Ah."
"Wait," Harry cut in. "What are you guys talking about?"
"My safehouses."
"And you call one of them Tuesday? Why?"
"Because I'm usually there on Fridays," Alfred answered nonchalantly, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry blinked. "… What?"
"Don't bother trying to figure it out, Harry. It's not worth the headache. Trust me," Léon laughed, fishing out a bottle of whiskey and a couple glasses from one of his cabinets. "Anyone?"
Raquel perked up. "Is that-?"
"My last bottle of 30 Year Old Sherry Oak Macallan? Yes."
"Oh… I vould like some."
"Of course, mon amour," Léon said, handing her a glass before filling his own. "And no, Alfred, you can't have any. That was my last bottle of Château Latour you drank!"
Alfred pouted. "Where have you been hiding that bottle? I thought I found all your hiding spots."
"Not all of them. And no, I'm not telling you." Taking a sip of the hard liquor, Léon let out a great big sigh. "So…" He looked up. "Anyone want to tell us what happened? One second, everything is going exactly as planned, the next, we're being hunted by the guards. The only reason we kept ahead of them was because Raquel saw them coming from the window while I was working on putting up our forgery."
Alfred grimaced. "No clue. Our best guess is that there was some security feature Marceau didn't tell us."
"You think-?"
"I wouldn't put it past him. Not after-"
"Right," Léon scowled. He looked at Raquel, who was clearly upset. "You know what we're going to have to do."
The beauty's frown became more pronounced. "I know. I vill handle it."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded resolutely. "I am sure." Steel entered her eyes. "He brought it on himself."
None of the thieves elaborated on what they meant or what would happen to this Marceau fellow, but it was clear to the rest that it wasn't going to be good.
"So… What happened next?"
Jean was the one who answered. "Alfred came by and alerted us that the job went south. Obviously, he was in a bit of a panic." Understatement. "Once we got all the details, we came up with the plan to do a Wally Burns for the extraction."
"With how quickly things escalated, that was probably the best possible plan," Léon nodded. "One person distracts while the others get inside to whatever the prize is. I take it Hermione was the distraction? What'd she do?"
"Uncle Alfred told me to find out where most of the guards were searching and "hide" a frayed length of rope in one of the trashcans they hadn't looked into yet. Make it look like you were already out and had escaped."
Simple, yet brilliant.
And to think, sweet Hermione, the girl who at one point had been a hardcore stickler for the rules (something they were entirely responsible for back when she first learned of their professions), would purposely mislead the French authorities on a wild goose chase so that her accomplices could find their targets and escape.
They were so proud.
"See?! What have I been saying ever since I first met your little bookworm, Léon?" Alfred crowed ecstatically. "She's a natural, even if she doesn't want to admit it!"
Léon chuckled. "Guess you were right, Alfred."
"Given time, I am sure she could be as good as us," Raquel said, smiling.
Hermione pinked, much to everyone's amusement.
If only they knew who was really responsible for her increased willingness to break the rules.
"Anyways," Sirius said, cutting into the story. "The plan had one problem - Our way in was on the second floor. Even with Hermione providing a distraction, there was no way we could get to the second floor without being seen. That meant we had to use magic, except…"
"If you used magic on-site, the French Aurors would show up," Léon finished. "Obviously, you decided to use brooms, but how did you make yourselves invisible if you couldn't cast any spells?"
"I apparated us to a different part of the city and cast the spells there. We flew in invisible, and split up to find you two. The rest you know."
Again, a simple, yet brilliant solution.
"Now, I have some questions."
Jean jerked up and glared at the wizard. "Now is not the time, Sirius."
Sirius scowled, refusing to back down. "After everything we've been through the last two hours, I think we deserve some answers."
The Frenchman sighed, but nodded. "It's okay, Jean. I figured this would happen and I already agreed."
"Are you sure, Léon?"
"Yes. Go ahead, Sirius. Ask away."
"Thank you," Sirius nodded, somewhat mollified at Léon's willingness to talk. "Alright, for starters, I know now that you're a thief, but some things don't add up… The way you were able to perfectly act as if we were part of the security team, and how you took down that guard with your uber fast kung fu karate moves. I don't think most con-artists can do that kind of stuff."
"That was a mix of Krav Maga and Aikido actually."
"Whatever! Point is, who are you?"
"It's… hard to explain."
"Isn't it always? Alright, fine. Let's start off with this - When did you become a thief? How did it all start?"
"Well, I used to work for the French Secret Service as an infiltration and extraction specialist."
Silence… Something Harry noted was happening a lot the past few days. First, he found out that their host was related to someone he knew, then it was discovered that the man was a thief, and now, the Frenchman was apparently a former agent of the French Secret Service! What was next?
"So… You were a spy?"
"Pretty much."
"Well, that explains how you were able to act like a security guard and your mad kung fu moves…"
"Krav Maga and Aikido."
"Yeah, whatever. But you left?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Things were getting… difficult at the agency."
"But how does that translate into you going into art theft?!" Sirius was clearly having difficulty wrapping his head around all this. "You were a member of the French Secret Service. You probably could have gotten any job you wanted, but instead, you decided to do a complete one-eighty and become a con-artist. Why? What happened?"
The man sighed. "You have to understand that I joined the agency to help my country and its people. I came into the job thinking I'd be taking down corrupt politicians, crime lords, terrorists… Instead, I find out that all our efforts against these kinds of people rarely succeeded. And in the few cases where we did succeed, the criminals would somehow avoid imprisonment or get sentences so short, it meant nothing in the end."
"So you left."
Léon nodded. "Yes. And I decided that I'd devote my skills toward taking the salauds (bastards) down myself."
"Really? How?"
"So long as it doesn't involve violence, by whatever means necessary. Typically, that means stealing, exposing, or destroying the things that make the criminals so powerful in the first place. Things like art, dirty money, drugs, blackmail… Stuff like that."
"Hit them where it hurts," Sirius nodded. "So was tonight's heist something similar?"
"A different sort," the Frenchman responded with a scowl. "Our next target is a very powerful, very influential, corrupt government official. We need funds and specialized equipment if we want to hit him, and the only way we could get it is by doing this job." His frown deepened. "Believe me, this isn't something we typically do, but our client promised us the things we need if we could get the painting to him by the end of the week."
"Alright… Now for the million galleon question - Why didn't you tell us? I mean, you know my situation."
Leon smiled sadly. "Don't get me wrong, Sirius, I know you're trustworthy. But you have to remember that a major part of my former job was keeping secrets. It's a habit I still struggle with to this day. Believe me, Raquel has been on my case more than once about it." The woman nodded. "Also, I wasn't sure how you'd react."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, when Jean and Chris told Hermione that her favorite uncles and aunt were criminals, she didn't take it too well."
Hermione blushed. "It went against what I believed was right or wrong, and I didn't want to become like them, especially since I knew it was in my blood. That's why I tried to be everything they were not… At least until you came around!" she said, whirling on her best friend and smacking on the arm. "I was doing so well, but you and your stupid saving people thing… I swear, you broke every rule at Hogwarts at least five times before our Second Year!"
"OW! Well, sorry! It's not like I look for trouble!"
"I know that, Harry, but you're still a city-sized magnet for it."
The teen pouted, much to everyone's amusement.
"Anyways," Léon started, bringing the conversation back on track. "While Hermione is far more accepting of it now, I didn't want to take the chance to make you both uncomfortable. Hence why I kept it a secret."
Sirius pursed his lips. He didn't like it, but could understand where the man was coming from. "Alright, I can accept that. I don't like it, but I get it." He sighed. "I still have a ton of questions I want to ask, but it's getting late and I think we could all use some shuteye." He glanced at his yawning godson. "Especially the kids."
The rest of the group echoed their agreement as they slowly ambled out of the kitchen, all very much looking forward to a good night's sleep after their long hectic night. Most of them didn't even bother washing up, and instead went straight to bed.
And as Harry laid down in his ridiculously comfortable bed, with sleep only seconds away from claiming him, the wizard couldn't help but think that after everything he had already gone through in the one week - ONE FREAKING WEEK - in France… He had to wonder…
What would happen next?
Author's Note: I definitely had fun writing this part, especially the planning scene. Hope you guys enjoyed this! Again, to any French speakers out there, my sincerest apologies for any butchering I may have done to your beautiful language. Feel free to leave a review or DM me with the proper text. I will be sure to fix it and mention you in thanks!
I will also repeat my heartfelt desire to hear any legends, folk stories, or ideas you all might have heard around the world! Where do you think my ideas for this story come from?
