By Natasha Shaitanova
Chapter 5: The Art of Persuasion
Disclaimer: I don't own Ocean's Eleven or Harry Potter. Well dammit.
Quick A/N: Long time, no update. Sorry peeps, I've partying nonstop. I think I forget when is night and when is day...Anyhow. I think it's obvious how I'm picking out characters here—they must look and act the same as in the original movie—I want the crossover to have the same look and feel as the film. For those who wanted Hermione as Tess—well, so did I, since I like her better than Ginny, but the latter just fits better. Both redheads and all that…
Last Time:
Draco and Harry are picking out crew candidates. They are now on the explosives expert.
Harry mulled over the list, "Well, then that leaves…"
Draco grinned. "Yup."
"Blaise Zabini."
Draco grinned across the table, "Damn straight."
"You sure?" Harry frowned.
"Well, there may be an issue with availability…"
Black, shining goggles loomed over a spluttering match, reflecting the miniature orange flame as it was lowered to the end of a fuse. A quick puff from dark lips killed the flame on the tip of the wood and the man stepped back around the corridor corner, crouching down on the floor.
Carefully, he held up his wrist to the goggles and seemed to count down the seconds before biting the nails on his free hand and pushing down the trigger button on a wireless control.
Shards of glass and wooden splinters flew with a great woosh around the corner, accompanied by a deafening rumbling from the vault door.
Three masked man rushed to the scene of carnage, following their leader. Their parade was rather rained on, however, as shrill alarms stopped their pursuit in the middle of the vault.
Blaise threw up his hands, "You tossers! You had one job to do…"
SWAT members led the would-be burglars out of the building, hands tied behind their heads. One of the cops pulled Blaise aside and pushed him against a police car, about to commence with an on-site interrogation.
"Name?"
Blaise glared at the pudgy man, scornful.
"What's your name, you little fuck?"
The cop narrowed his eyes in a glare imitation (although he merely managed to look fatter, with his full cheeks seemingly squeezing his watery eyes shut).
"Fine. Is the stuff we found all you used in the "event"?"
Blaise scoffed, "Are you accusing me of booby-trappin'?"
The cop glared some more, "Well how 'bout it?"
"Booby traps aren't Mr. Zabini's style."
The cop swiveled around at the voice. A dark-suited, somber Draco whipped off his very-James-Bond sunglasses and quickly flashed a badge with nimble, leather-clad fingers.
"Isn't that right, Blaise?"
Blaise barely concealed a grin, "That's right."
"Beck, A.T.F.," Draco nodded to the cop, "Let me venture a guess. A simple G4 mainliner, double-coil, backwound, quick fuse with a drag under 20 feet."
Draco paused to check the cop's reaction. Satisfied at the man's avid nodding, he continued, "That's our man. Let me ask you something else. Did you check him for booby traps on his person? And I mean really checked, not just for weapons…"
The cop slowly shook his head, jumping back at a sharp "Stand back."
Draco grabbed Blaise by the arm and spun him around to face the car, slamming him bodily against it. Patting down Blaise's legs, arms, and waist, Draco kept him pressed against the vehicle as he turned back to the bewildered cop, "Will you go find Griggs and tell him I need to see him?"
"Who?"
Draco glared and snapped at the pudgy officer, "Just find him, will ya?"
As the cop walked away, Draco muttered under his breath, "How fast can you put something together from what I passed you?"
Blaise seemed to struggle under Draco's grip as he replied, "It's done. Thirty seconds alright?"
"From when," Draco pulled back, ready to bolt.
"Now."
The two walked swiftly away from the police car, Draco keeping a hold on Blaise's tied hands and pushing his back for the benefit of the SWAT team.
"Ten seconds?"
"Almost…now!"
The two broke into a run around the corner of the bank as shouts of "bomb" broke out at the arrest scene. Draco looked back to see the police car lift off the ground with the force of the explosion.
Blaise laughed, "It'll be good working with proper villains again."
A giant, multi-colored tent rose like a toyland beacon in the middle of the desert, alerting all of the inhabitants of Western USA that the Chinese National Circus had arrived. Giggling preschoolers swarmed over the parking lot and the inside bleachers, just out of reach of their parents.
Harry and Draco sat in the front row around the inside arena, suit jackets abandoned in the sweltering heat. Draco munched leisurely on a roll of cotton candy as Harry glared at the general populace.
"So, which one is our grease man?"
"The little Chinese girl," Draco responded, unconcerned.
Harry sighed, staring at the stage overrun with Asian acrobats, "Who else is on the list?"
"She is the list."
The announcer's voice roared through the speakers, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the Amazing Chang!"
A short, extremely thin Chinese woman hopped onto the stage as the other acrobats ran off and began climbing one of the two poles in the center.
"That doesn't look so hard—" Harry's unimpressed muttering was cut off as Chang backflipped off one pole and caught herself upside down on the other, before somersaulting to the ground. She landed in a split, to the cheering of a full-house audience.
"We got our grease man…er, woman," Harry grumbled as he clapped.
Draco and Harry navigated through the packed parking lot, away from the giant circus tent, as the latter spoke.
"We need Remus."
Draco hopped into the driver's seat of a convertible, "He won't come. Swore off the game a year ago."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "He get religion?"
"Nah, not that bad. Ulcers."
"Your point?"
Draco stared sideways, "He's going to muggle way about fixing them."
The pair drove in silence past the exit booths before Harry spoke up again, "You could ask him…"
Draco, miming a flashbulb idea with the raise of his eyebrows and finger, exclaimed, "Hey, I could ask him!"
An aging man, around in his fifties, stood with a slouched back and drooping eyes at the ticket booth, passing a wad of cash to the operator before stuffing his tickets in his pocket. He looked around befuddled for a moment before moving off.
Taking a moment to raise his wrinkled face to the streaming sunlight outside, Remus proceeded to one of the benches near the racing stadium and took a seat. He sat casually, legs crossed at the ankles, and took out an orange. As he started to peel it, he spoke, apparently to thin air.
"I saw you at the paddock before the second race, near the men's room, when I was placing my bet," Remus tore off a chunk of orange peel and placed it next to him on the bench, "I saw you before you even got up this morning."
Draco walked out of the shadows of a nearby pillar and leaned against he back of the bench.
"How've you been, Remus," he spoke, ignoring the older man's cryptic statement.
"Never better."
"What's with the orange?"
Remus continued peeling, "My doctor says I need vitamins."
Draco persisted, "So why don't you take vitamins? Or a little charm here and there…"
Remus craned his neck to shoot a wry frown at the blond, "You come here to give me a physical?"
Draco just grinned and lightly hit Remus on the shoulder with his fist, "I got box seats. Come on."
Remus and Draco relaxed in their seats as a waiter served them coffee and jello (the latter being ordered by the younger of the pair).
"I thought you only drank Bloody Mary's on the track, Remus?"
The man in question just scoffed, "One should never drink on the job."
Draco shrugged, "So which mutt are we rooting for then?"
"Number four. And I will have you know that these are no mutts, but magnificent purebreds."
"What, so now you are on the 'pure' mania?" Draco mock-glared, "I got over mine years ago. Shame on thou, hypocrite."
Remus just rolled his eyes, "Quit it. Are you going to tell me or should I just say no and get it over with?"
"Remus, you're the best there is. You're in Cooperstown. What do you want?"
The man responded without taking his eyes off the race, "Nothing. I've got a duplex. I've got wall-to-wall and a goldfish. I'm seeing a nice lady who works the unmentionables counter at Macy's. I'm a new man, Draco. I've changed."
"Guys like us don't change, Remus," Draco spoke in a mild tone, but his words resonated in their box, "We've lived through the War. We've lived through the Ministry's Reconstruction. This is what we came out as. We stay sharp or we get sloppy. But we don't change."
Remus responded in a terse tone, conviction not quite reaching his words, "Quit conning me."
Draco let silence ring for a few moments, before speaking lightly, "Is that your hound in the back there?"
"He breaks late, everyone knows this."
Draco raised his eyebrows—the dogs were coming around the back stretch, crowd cheering.
"Will you treat me like an adult at least," Remus finally took his eyes off the race, giving up, "Tell me what the scam is?"
The crowd erupted in yells and whistles as the finish line was crossed. Amid the cacophony, Draco leaned in and whispered quickly into Remus' ear. The older man's eyes widened and he placed his coffee cup back on the table.
Clapping Remus on the shoulder, Draco slid him an envelope under the table and left the box. Slightly pale, Remus wiped his forehead and placed a heavy hand on his stomach, breathing deeply. He turned over the new tickets under the table.
Number four crossed the finish line…last.
A/N: Yup. Just number eleven to go…Hm, wonder who's gonna be Linus…Guesses?
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-NS