I don't own Harry Potter, although let's face it if I did I would make a serious number of changes to the story. Hell, I would probably write alternative Harry Potter stories, what ifs? That kind of thing. I love those. Anyway, please let me know what you think of this latest instalment in one of my biggest stories so far.

Enjoy!

The Hell of Fourth Year.

When Charlotte had been younger, it had taken her a long time to just understand how the art of pickpocketing worked, but now she was being forced to relearn the art, she needed to remember everything she had learnt as a kid.

And now she was almost in her twenties, she was having to relearn them again. She wasn't looking forward to this although she was happy to be going back to basics. Wearing a pair of glasses similar to the pair she had worn at the Yule Ball, Charlotte looked around at her surroundings, hoping she didn't get another Ronald Weasley who planned on swiping them off her face to expose the illusion. She wasn't worried about that, no-one here knew of about her or her past, so she didn't need to worry too much.

In the meantime she had the chance to look around Covent Garden; while the square itself hadn't really changed, and the London Transport Museum was still standing proudly, and the market stalls were still bustling as they had always done in the past, and there were one or two new businesses, it was still the same old place.

She had asked Dobby to drop her off in Covent Garden since the marketplace and the shops made it easy for her to look out for anyone who happened to put their wallets or their purses away carelessly. She checked her watch; Dobby had dropped her off ten minutes ago. Dobby wasn't happy about his orders, but since he and Winky were bonded to her, Charlotte wasn't worried about them disobeying her, and if anything did go wrong then she could simply summon them back. And in those ten minutes, she had seen a great deal; she had seen a policeman walking on patrol, but she kept her distance and she didn't dare pick anybody's pockets with a copper around, especially if her skills had atrophied.

Regardless of the policeman walking around, Charlotte looked around the part of Covent Garden she was in, smiling at the sight of the marketstalls. It had been a long time since she had been here, but while the city of London changed with new buildings and new people, they couldn't get rid of the traditions of places like this.

Her smile disappeared when she realised the copper had vanished, but she had spotted something good. A few meters away from her was a blustering man with an American accent, next to him was a woman who was likely his wife. The bloke was looking around himself with disdain on his face, the woman was looking around with the 'let's make the best of this opportunity' type of expression on her face.

"I'm tellin' ya, I don't see n'thing 'bout this city which is impressive!" He said in a loud voice which made Charlotte cringe, especially since he was attracting some rather annoyed looks his way.

His wife noticed them as well. She began tugging on her husband's arm. "Now, stop it, Bill," she chided in her own accented voice.

Bill instantly protested. "Nah, why should I?"

"'Cause you're annoying everyone around you!" His wife hissed.

"So what?" Bill proved his stupidity by looking around unashamedly around him and his wife. "Guy can express his opinions, can't he? What's wrong with everyone, can't they see this country needs work?"

Charlotte recognised this Bill for what he was the moment he began talking. A man who was seemingly the king of his own little world. A man who had likely never ventured far from his home, wherever that was, in America, and judging from his comments he saw America as the only place on the planet worth knowing. His views about how Britain wasn't up to scratch also spoke wonders about the man, but Charlotte didn't care about his views, although she didn't like his obnoxious manner.

Masking her disdain for the blustering oaf who reminded her of a softer, louder, but stupider version of her late so-called Uncle, Charlotte studied this Bill and his wife. They looked like a well to do couple, really; both of them were dressed in casual clothes, but Charlotte could tell it was of expensive quality. She also noticed that despite Bill's constant unwelcome observations about Covent Garden and the people in it, he spent a great deal. The couple was collecting a new collection of knick-knacks, although whether or not Bill and his wife were going to display them or not, Charlotte neither knew nor did she care.

But she did see something. Bill was such an idiot he visibly reached out and took the wallet in his pocket out. And the wallet was so obvious and visible, it was like there was a bullseye painted on it. Seeing they were slipping out of her view, Charlotte followed them quickly while she kept an eye out for any other pickpockets who had been attracted to Bill and had witnessed his spending habits as well. She didn't see anybody whom she knew, but it had been a long time since Charlotte had been here, and it had been an even longer time since she had checked out the list of the newer pickpockets, but she didn't see the prominent ones she had known years before.

While she followed the obnoxious American, Charlotte grabbed a thick newspaper, not even bothering to grimace at the state of it, and she hurried after the two tourists, picking up speed as she did while she kept her eye fixed on the couple. At the same time, she kept watching in case she saw anyone moving towards them with the same intent.

She made her move quickly. Not once breaking her stride, Charlotte prepared herself. Holding the newspaper in her left hand, Charlotte waited until the couple was near another stall, and she walked quickly before the obnoxious idiot could buy anything else.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Charlotte squealed in shock before the American could say anything else while she pressed her newspaper in his chest. "I wasn't looking where I was going-!"

"Why not? Y' see, this is what I hate 'bout Brits, always in a hurry!" Bill looked at her with such derision she almost broke her cover, his expression was so similar to Vernon's she almost murdered him out of spite. But she quickly got a hold over herself while she moved her body slightly so she could reach around him so she could get close to his pocket…

"I said I was sorry," Charlotte blocked the view with her body and she slipped her hand into the man's pocket. Keep talking….keep talking…. "I was just in a hurry! There's no need to be rude!"

"Rude! If anybody's rude, it's you!" Bill shouted, making Charlotte flinch at the volume. But her fingers were wrapping themselves around his wallet at the time she was speaking to him and slipping it out of his pocket. Now she just had to put it into her left hand. Fortunately, she just had to move the newspaper slightly to bring the two hands together.

"Bill, shut up! She didn't mean it!" Bill's wife looked apologetically at Charlotte before turning back to her idiot husband. "Why do you always need to blow everything out of all proportion?"

"Out of proportion? Ya shut the hell up!" Bill sneered disgustedly at his wife.

Charlotte sighed with relief when she pushed the wallet into the newspaper, and she wrapped her now free right arm around the newspaper. "No, you shut up, you ignorant bastard! I've been hearing from you all day, going off about how this country isn't like America. Get a fucking clue, Britain is not America, and contrary to what you might think in your little brain, it never will be. This is a country with its own traditions and ideals, it doesn't need a big mouthed bore like you telling us what we need!"

With that Charlotte stepped around the obnoxious bastard, and walked as fast as she could in case her words made him lose it enough to come after her, but she needn't have worried; she turned around slightly and saw the wife was having a go at her arrogant husband, and Bill hadn't yet realised she'd pinched his wallet.

Charlotte turned around and walked hurriedly away, and she didn't stop until she reached a Marks and Spencer across the road and a short distance away from the market. Once inside, she ignored the security guards and headed for the restaurant area. Once she was in there, she shut herself up in a cubicle and she slipped out a pair of opera gloves she'd bought only recently. The gloves were thin and could be reused later, and she preferred them to the rubber variety.

After slipping them on, Charlotte picked up the newspaper and the wallet wrapped up inside it, and she opened it. Charlotte had to prevent herself from whistling in delighted surprise. The wallet was bulging with money in British currency, that explained why the obnoxious twat had been able to buy everything around him. She slowly and calmly counted the money, and she found she had £1,700 in her hand. A good haul. She checked the cards, but they were American banks and were useless to her.

Charlotte pulled out a wet wipe from the packet in her pocket and she scrubbed it quickly before she pulled up a large sheet of newspaper and bundled the wallet in it. She hurried out of the shop, feeling significantly richer than she had when she had first started, but now Charlotte was left with the problem of the wallet. She found a way of getting rid of the wallet by walking into a fairly busy shop before she dropped the wallet behind the till counter.

Once she was finished, Charlotte walked out. It was time to find another pocket to pick.