I don't own Harry Potter.
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Harry Potter- Thinking like a Thief.
Getting into the Hatton Garden vaults would be incredibly difficult and time-consuming for muggles, but the security precautions meant nothing to Harry, even without his House-elves. However, the tricky part was making the whole thing look like a muggle gang had broken in, so planning that part out had taken some time on Harry's part before he'd found a backway in.
He had never broken into a safety deposit centre before, especially one where there were so many jewellery shops. If this worked, then he would commit similar thefts in the next few years.
An old disused lift shaft that went all the way down to the vault where the safety deposit boxes were kept, sealed by metal shuttered doors. A few words to Dobby and the doors quickly looked like they'd been forced upwards and open by a hydraulic jack. The electronic security system had already been immobilised but Harry still ripped the whole thing to pieces although he quickly regretted it since he didn't know for sure if the system was linked to anything else while he cast a spell to block out the CCTV systems.
Once he was inside, Harry walked towards the massive door of the vault. With a flick of his wand he had the door opened in an instant, the tumblers within the locking mechanism were being manipulated thanks to the magic he had just used. Once the door was opened he walked inside, and with another flick of his wand, Harry had torn every single door of the safety deposit lockers open by popping the locks. The heavy metal boxes were ripped out and they fell to the ground at Harry's feet with multiple clangs that were so loud that Harry flinched at the sounds.
Harry flicked his wand again and tore off the covers of the boxes and he placed a small matchbox-sized object on the ground. With another flick of his wand, the small box enlarged and grew into a trunk - he had been…wary, at first of being dependent on magic after he had learnt the truth about his history when he was younger; he had been worried if he relied too heavily on his powers then he could find himself hopeless if something went wrong, but he had quickly realised if he dismissed the magic in favour of the non-magical means of committing burglaries, especially when his magic could help him narrow the kind of gaps that more experienced and daring burglars were capable of crossing without breaking a sweat when they put their minds to it, but he had come to realise his magic was a part of him and he should use it - before he began siphoning the more precious things into the trunk.
Harry stood, watching transfixed as he levitated several dark blue bags into the trunk - one look into them showed a mix of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, each one worth a fortune - while he levitated several gold ingots of varying sizes into the trunk; he would organise the lot later, or he would leave them in there like this.
From one of the boxes, Harry levitated what looked like a small pirate treasure taken out of an R.L Stevenson novel and sent to the trunk. There were several bags full of old doubloons and some containing jewels. Other treasures were more modern, such as the wedges of cash. Harry examined them with his eyes, seeing the majority were ordinary British sterling while the others belonged to other currencies.
Harry could see a number of uses for those wedges, providing they hadn't been nicked elsewhere. If they had then it would lead to a number of complications for him in the future. Already plans for how he could make use of the money and take advantage of it being here were coming to mind; if he could open bank accounts in other countries, he would have places to store the money he would steal in other countries when he needed it for investments or living.
He hoped the numbers on the notes were not in any system, but with the world increasingly using and relying on computer records in the muggle world, he had to be prepared.
Taking his time, it was almost morning by the time the whole place was cleared out. Harry hadn't wasted any of his time in picking the place clean, by the time he had finished his work, the floor of the vault itself was strewn with open safety deposit boxes. He had left behind the boxes that were full of family photos or old cases of movies. He didn't care what was on any of them, and he didn't see the point in taking them.
With his trunk full of money, jewels and gold and silver, Harry miniaturised the trunk and slipped it into his pocket. Waving his wand as he stepped out of the vault, he conjured a fine but thick spray of bleach. The stench was overpowering, but it would serve his purpose. The more the muggles believed this was a mundane burglary, the better.
The thing about committing a burglary was it was even easier getting out. Harry had just got into the liftshaft again, only for a familiar sound to fill his ears and he looked down, only to see a familiar pair of green tennis ball-like eyes.
"Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry knew there was something wrong; he had expressly warned the House-Elves not to come anywhere near the heist tonight unless it was something important.
"Oh, Harry Potter, sir. Bad Whiskers is planning something. He be having your blood, sir," Dobby wailed in his high-pitched voice.
Harry winced at the volume. "Calm down, Dobby. Tell me what you saw."
The House-Elf did as he was told. For the last few days, Dobby and some of the other elves had been seeing Dumbledore creating some kind of rune, but they hadn't come to him to report the details because they had wanted to know more. Harry wasn't surprised. He had told the Elves to look for anything suspicious and to watch out for a bit to see what came out of it, and then fill him in.
Dumbledore had finished the runic array only tonight and then he had taken a phial and the House-Elf watching him had seen the liquid was red; and because this Elf had been one of the more heavily abused members of the group Harry had bonded to him, he recognised it as blood. The realisation came just as Dumbledore transformed into a copy of Harry Potter.
Harry had to control the rage he was feeling at the news while he tried to picture the scene of Dumbledore transforming into a copy of himself; a tall, thin white-haired and bearded wizard wearing long, effeminate wizarding robes of extremely weird colours, transforming into a younger, stronger wizard with black hair and green eyes. Harry closed his eyes, wondering what Dumbledore hoped to gain by doing this.
"Dobby, did you or the other elves spying on Dumbledore get any clues or hints about what Dumbledore is planning?" Harry was impressed by how…controlled his voice was. He knew if he didn't have the occlumency training, he would be throwing himself into a rage.
"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Bad Dumbledores' be planning on attacking St Mungo's and Diagon Alley."
Harry stared at Dumbledore in surprise. "What?"
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Albus Dumbledore almost regretted shifting back into his original form. Truth be told he had never really had much of a problem with people impersonating members of his staff; many of the methods used were crude, and they had a toxic side effect on the body, to say nothing of the mind.
But the runic cluster he had just created was perfect for his aims because it was not a potion.
It simply transformed him into a clone of Harry Potter without any of the toxic side effects people like Voldemort or Crouch had favoured. For many a year now, Dumbledore had been feeling the passage of time claim him and his body. One of the reasons why he had claimed the Philosopher's Stone for his own private use was to see about using its Elixir to grant him eternal life, but during his initial experiments, he had learned the Flamels had given him a fake, just like the one he had hidden in the Mirror of Erised.
Voldemort was a stupid fool. Did he really think he would be so unutterably moronic as to put such a dangerous object within reach? The Horcruxes and the Gaunt insanity had clouded his mind, and his judgement.
With a stone, he would have been able to live longer and fulfil many of the ambitions he had never been able to shake off. But alas, Nicholas and that bitch he had married had never trusted him enough to give him enough insight into what could be used to create a Stone, so it was forever out of his reach. And the Flamels had hidden themselves. Where they were, what they were doing, was a total mystery to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore bounced the rune cluster lightly in the palm of his hand. The cluster was a product of blood magic, cloning, and rune based magic that essentially transformed the user into a clone of the person who'd donated the blood. It had felt phenomenal to be younger, stronger. He had felt the sheer power he had within him throb throughout his being.
Soon he would be ready to act.
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Harry paced up and down in his living room. He had gotten Dobby to take him back to the townhouse and he had sent the House-Elf to continue watching over Dumbledore. He needed to be left alone so he could process everything Dobby had told him, and so he could form a plan in his head.
He…. He just could not believe what Dobby had told him. Albus Dumbledore planned to impersonate him using a runic cluster that would force a clone of Harry himself over Dumbledore's body, giving the old wizard the youth and strength Harry enjoyed.
All to ensure his quest for personal recognition and vanity went on.
Dobby had found the plans for Diagon Alley and St Mungo's and the old wizard had been overheard muttering about attacking both places while inflicting the kind of damage Voldemort himself was unable to even contemplate. Harry had interrogated all of the elves so they would remember what was said by the ancient wizard, and while Dumbledore hadn't said enough the Elves had told him enough to be terrified.
What the hell was Dumbledore hoping to gain by living in a clone of his body and using it to attack people?
The answer was obvious. Dumbledore wanted to make him out to be the next Dark Lord, a new Voldemort. It was not going to happen. Harry had ordered the Elves to keep watch on the old man while Harry himself made enquiries.
One way or another, for the safety of the Potter family and the magical world, Albus Dumbledore was not going to see his plans work. It was just a pity the old man had simply not bothered or was incapable of living his life in peace. What sickened Harry, what made him pity Dumbledore even more was how the old wizard just refused to live a peaceful life.
Now this time there would be a price to pay for Dumbledore.
Harry merely wished it was unnecessary.
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Until the next time...
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