By Natasha Shaitanova
Chapter 6: The Eleventh
Disclaimer: I don't own Ocean's Eleven and I don't own Harry Potter.
Quick A/N: People, I am suddenly motivated to update again (okay, I should have updated forever ago). Watching Ocean's Thirteen really made me want to start writing again—that movie was so much fun. Loved it, absolutely. Okay, here you go. Sorry for that bit of free association…
The television hanging above the bar blasted advertisement after advertisement, settling finally on promoting an upcoming wrestling match.
Harry swirled his whiskey in the tumbler, staring blankly at the wooden counter. Draco leaned his chin on top of his crossed arms next to him, lazily watching the TV.
"Ten should do it, don't you think?" Harry asked, glancing sideways at his companion.
Draco seemingly ignored the question, eyes not leaving the television.
Harry took a sip of his whiskey, "You think we need one more?"
Draco raised one shoulder slightly in a shrug, lolling his head into the crook of his right arm as he did so.
"You think we need one more," Harry stated in an almost accusatory tone, glancing again at the blond head turned away from him.
Knocking back the rest of his drink, Harry nodded with a sense of finality, "Okay. We'll get one more."
Draco blinked at the TV.
The crowded subway car raced recklessly through the streets of Chicago, tossing about its less adept occupants against the walls and each other.
One young man in particular seemed particular limber on his feet, standing solidly next to a pair of stockbrokers. He seemed to stare at his feet as his head was bent down, but it was impossible to tell the object of his gaze behind the pulled-down hat and the black sunglasses.
His shabby coat and shedding scarf seemed to envelope his entirely, so that only the slightest hint of bright orange hair was visible from under the hat. His hands were likewise obscured from view, one hanging somewhere by his side and the other apparently holding closer his scarf.
A sudden twist of the subway car sent passengers tumbling every which way. The young man stumbled forward against one of the stockbrokers, catching himself by placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled and pulled away quickly. He stuffed the other hand in his pocket.
"No problem, guy," the stockbroker waved dismissively and turned back to his Wall Street companion.
Across the car, Harry lowered the newspaper obscuring his face and smirked at the scene.
Commuters rushed out of the subway car the moment before it came to a stop and swarmed through the platform, dodging around booths and incoming human traffic.
The red-headed man weaved his way through the man with practiced ease. He successfully maneuvered out of the platform with only a minor brush with some nicely dressed gentleman. Ignoring the small impact he continued on to the street outside.
At the intersection, the redhead paused and stuffed a hand into his pocket. His brows furrowed as he groped around for the apparently missing object. Instead, he pulled out a small white contact card.
"Harry Potter" was engraved on the top side. The redhead frowned; he had heard the name all too often.
Turning the card over, he stilled.
"Nice pull," it read "Murphy's bar, rush & division."
Harry threw the Gucci wallet down on the table top, right next to his half-finished Guinness.
"Hey, Ron. Have a seat."
Ron Weasley glowered at the smug-looking man, before taking off his gloves and collapsing into the seat across from him.
"It's been a while, mate. How'd you find me?"
"A friend of a friend of a friend heard of a skillful pair of hands working the subways."
"Right…" Ron flicked the white business card onto the table, "So why now? I thought we agreed to go our separate ways after the Gringotts job went to pieces."
"You were never on the Gringotts job," Harry glared.
"I wasn't suicidal," Ron shrugged and took a gulp of the Guinness, "I decided to scram before they drew the connection and pinched me along with you."
"And, what? You ran from the business to feel up stockbrokers?"
Ron did not bother with a verbal reply, choosing instead his middle finger.
Harry snorted and drew out an envelope from his breast pocket. He kept his hand over it as he placed it on the table.
"You're either in or out, right now."
"What is it?"
"This is not a Gringotts, Ron. No backing out when things get tough," Harry kept his gaze and voice level, "If you have any doubts, don't take it."
"What if I don't?"
"Then Malfoy will take his own pick to replace you," Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron's fallen expression, "You knew he would be in on this. This is no small job."
"How big is it?"
"Big."
"Gringotts big?"
"Bigger."
Ron scratched his chin, "So what is it?" He nodded at the envelope.
"A plane ticket to the debriefing. You know the rules, Ron," Harry pushed the envelope forward, "The new team won't take well to you breaking them."
A waitress passed the pair and Harry motioned for the bill. In the split second, the envelope was gone.
"Las Vegas, huh?"
Dean Thomas moved happily to the bar in Sirius' reception room, mixing himself a drink from the wide array of liquor spread out on the marble counter.
Sirius shuffled toward the door in his gilded pajama bottoms and an embroidered black bathrobe, hearing the doorbell chime. He opened the door as he stuck a cigar in his mouth. An eyebrow went up.
Neville Longbottom, Blaise Zabini, Cho Chang, The Weasley twins, Remus Lupin and Ron Weasley crowded on his doormat as a taxi van pulled away from the curb behind them.
Neville grinned gingerly, "Trick or treat?"
Sirius huffed, "What, did you guys get a group rate or something?"
The assembly moved outside to Sirius' poolside, enjoying the stylish ambience of the warm glint of lanterns, the chirruping of the cicadas, and naturally the abundance tables of expensive appetizers.
Remus was immediately accosted by Sirius, who grabbed the man by the elbow and pulled him aside before he could take his first gulp of wine.
"I thought you were out of the business, man? The boys managed to bring you back, eh?"
Remus shook his head at the delighted gleam in his old friend's eyes, "Don't get your hopes up, Sirius. It's this job and I'm back to retirement…If we come out alive that is."
"Have my experiences taught you nothing?" Sirius puffed on his cigar, "Just look at my success with casinos!"
"Only if by success you mean your casino getting pulverized to the ground by Snape," Remus hid his smile in the rim of his glass.
"Low blow, Moony."
Fred and George Weasley wasted no time in piling their plates high with jumbo shrimp and slathering it in various sauces before scouring the assembly of crooks for a preferred target.
"Aha!"
The duo moved quickly, attaching themselves to Draco on either side and steering him aside from the group.
"Draco!"
"We've missed…"
"…your pale visage…"
"…in London…"
"…when was your…"
"…last visit anyway?"
"Not long enough ago," Draco stated firmly and withdrew his elbows from the twins' grip, "I'm not insane enough to return to that city after the Parkinson job."
Fred and George nodded gravely, before the latter exclaimed.
"Here, try the shrimp! It's fantastic…"
Draco laughed, "Yeah right, what did you spike it with?"
Fred grinned, "Nothing! At least, not this batch…"
At the blonde's raised eyebrow, George elaborated, "We replaced the sauce on the table with our own homemade salsa…"
Ron slouched on a sofa in a corner, watching the festivities gloomily. His eyes flicked over Zabini and Longbottom, twitching slightly as Blaise poured a drink for Neville. The latter downed it in one gulp and promptly doubled over in a coughing fit, although he surfaced laughing.
On the pool's diving board, Cho likewise forewent company in favor of stacking shot glasses in the shape of a skyscraper as Dean watched bewildered.
The recluses looked up as a lull in conversation drew their attention.
"Good evening and welcome to Las Vegas, lady and gentlemen," Harry walked down the stairs leading from the mansion doors, flanked by Sirius and Draco, "Everyone's eaten? Good. Everybody sober?...Close enough."
Harry looked over the quiet group, nodding, "Most of you know each other from school days. For those who've forgotten, that's Remus Lupin, over at the pool is Cho Chang, a newer addition to the team."
Harry paused a bit before his next point, but continued as Draco nudged him from behind, "Alright, no one is on the line yet. What I am about to propose to you is highly lucrative and highly dangerous. If that does not seem like your particular brand of FireWhiskey, help yourself to the food and have a safe journey. Otherwise, come with me."
Turning on his heel, Harry walked swiftly back inside the house, ignoring the ringing silence left in his wake.
Sirius and Draco remained, glancing over the group, sizing them up. Finally, Dean spoke.
"What the hell," and he walked inside.
The others followed in a line, Remus nodding to Sirius as he passed, until only Ron was left sitting behind. Draco laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder and shot a look at Ron before following the line inside.
"It's been a while Ron. Heard you were in Chicago?" Sirius walked over to stand next to the redhead.
"Yeah…tried to put some distance between the London jobs and myself."
"Right, right," Sirius nodded vaguely, "Nice city, plenty of opportunity.
"Mhm," Ron nodded along.
"Great…Get in the goddamned house."
A/N: Alright, the formal debriefing comes in the next chapter! But finally the boys are all together, yes? Well, them and Chang. Rowling didn't write about any little Chinese guys. Anyhow, someone asked a question of how Snape is not going to recognize them…Well, think disguises people. That and think of the nature of Ocean's Eleven – not very probably, but very stylish and fun. I'll do my best to keep it realistic though.
Please REVIEW chaps! Gold-chain-wearing-beringed-flashy-bathrobe-loving-Sirius's to all!
-NS