Potter's 11…
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Ocean's Eleven. Also, just for this chapter, I don't own Rupert, Daniel, or Emma. I do, however, own the plot…he's my own little bunny and he's going to stay that way. :Pets bunny who is rightfully called 'Plot':
-
Chapter 1 – Bloody hell…!
-
Harry Potter let the small grains fall through his fingers. He took a pinch of the floo powder from the flowerpot on his mantle, then threw it into the blazing fire. The flames instantly roared and turned an eerie shade of emerald green. Harry knelt down on his hands and knees and stuck his head into the fire without a moments hesitation.
"Ministry of Magic, Bowman Crumbles office," he stated, his head still encased in green flames.
His head spun and he grew unbearably dizzy as fireplace after fireplace flashed before his eyes. He squeezed them shut, groaning, and when finally he opened them, he was looking into a small, but lavish office. A stout man sat at a desk on the far side of the room. Behind him was a window through which a stormy sky could be seen. Harry smiled as he remembered Arthur Weasley telling him of the charmed windows and how the weather depended on the staff's moods.
The man looked over to the fireplace and jumped when he saw Harry's head.
"I was told to contact you after twenty-four hours," Harry said calmly.
"Oh, yes, yes, Mr. Potter…" the man looked at Harry suspiciously from over his reading glasses, which were balancing precariously on the tip of his rather large nose. He was Bowman Crumble, the head of the Azkaban Recovery Program at the Ministry. "Have you been getting into any trouble?"
"No sir."
"Have you been drinking?"
"No sir," Harry answered again.
"Have you left the country?"
"No sir," Harry told him, "I wouldn't even think about leaving the country."
-
"Hello Dean."
The man at the small kiosk looked up from the Knuts he was dishing out to Harry.
"I'm sorry," the man said firmly, "but you must have the wrong person. My name, as you can see here," at this the man pointed to his fancy name badge which said 'Dottle's Wizard Bank', "my name is Ian."
"Ah," said Harry, "of course. I'm sorry, I must have been thinking of someone else."
-
Harry took another sip of the burning fire whiskey before him.
"Hello Harry," a man said as he sat down at the Harry's table. "Dean Thomas isn't permitted to work at banks after that fiasco I'm afraid."
"Dean," said Harry smirking.
The man from the bank sat before him now. He was Dean Thomas, or, in some cases, Ian Omickshire.
"You seen him?" Asked Harry.
"The last I heard he was teaching movie stars how to play chess. Why?" Dean asked. "You got a plan already?"
"Are you kidding? I just got the right to my wand back again!"
-
"No, no, no, no, no! Rupert! You cannot move the bloody pawn like that!"
Rupert looked up from the chessboard before him. It's occupants moved uncomfortably and grumbled in annoyance.
Ron Weasley corrected him and turned to a girl across the table.
"That's not the move to make, Emma, you'll lose your knight."
Emma sighed and analyzed her board again hoping to come up with a worthwhile move.
"Bloody hell Daniel! You cannot instruct the other player's pieces! Only your own!"
Daniel looked up, fazed.
"But…but why not?" He asked Ron.
Ron sighed and cradled his head in his hands. He looked up just at the moment to find Rupert directing his only remaining pawn to do 'what ever the bloody hell you want' and see the said pawn jump off the board and run for cover from the enraged stone Queen chasing it.
"Bloody hell…" Ron muttered under his breath.
-
Ron walked into the dark alley outside of the Leaky Caldron.
"Lumos," he muttered. A slight glow appeared at the tip of his wand, illuminating the area. Ron spotted a figure in the shadows and smirked. "So, you're out then."
"Of course," said Harry.
With one look at Harry's face, Ron immediately knew he was up to something.
"What is it this time?" He asked.
"Nothing big," Harry said with a look on his face that meant it was clearly something big.
"Nothing big my arse," Ron said hotly.
Harry smiled and ran his hand through his already disastrous looking hair.
"You know me much too well for your own good."
-
"Are you insane!" Ron bellowed. "Why – why – why that's absolutely bloody impossible!"
Harry smirked at his friend's reaction.
"Impossible?" He asked innocently, cocking his head.
"Yes. Impossible. There is just too much guarding it. It's impossible…" Ron broke off. "You'll need a hell of a lot of skilled wizards…"
Harry smiled.
"We'll come up with them somehow…"
"But I mean really Harry, why in Merlin's name would you chose Gringotts…and don't say money…wait…Gringotts…bloody hell Harry! Do you not know who owns Gringotts?"
"Of course I do," Harry told him, "everybody does."
"But Harry," Ron whined, "Draco Malfoy?"
-
A/N: Well, here it is. A bit faster than I expected to be honest…Thanks to all who reviewed and please do so again (after all – it makes me update faster…). Also, if you haven't already, I strongly suggest that you all watch Ocean's Eleven, you would find this funnier (and it's also a good movie).
-