"Harry Potter and the Casino Royale"

By Loki Palmer

Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of J.K. Rowling. Casino Royale is the property of Ian Fleming and Columbia Pictures.

Regarding the poker game, I realize that there were a number of players at the game in Casino Royale, as there are in the fanfic. However, I have decided for the sake of simplicity that only three players (later two) will be important: Harry Potter, LeChiffre, and the character I've picked to play the role of American CIA agent Felix Leiter. I'm pretty sure you'll like the person I chose for that role. :) Enjoy!

Chapter 5

"Good evening, and welcome, Mr. Radcliffe … or is it Potter? Forgive me, but I'm a bit confused."

Lucius Malfoy had hardly changed in all the years since Harry last saw him. His hair was still the slick platinum blonde it had always been, though it was shorter, and it seemed that he had finally tossed out the bow he had in it. Harry was glad for the change; the bow made Lucius look like he was gay. Shaking the hand offered to him, Harry said, "We wouldn't want you to be all confused, would we, Mr. LeChiffre? You're our host, after all."

"Either way, Mr. Potter, this promises to be a fun evening for us all. See you later."

~[James Bond riff]~

"Well, look who else is here … if it isn't Neville Longbottom. What brings you all the way out here to Europe?"

Neville turned around and his face broke into a wide smile. "Harry! It's great to see you, brother!"

"Same here, Neville." They both clapped each other on the back. Even though they were not brothers, they were like brothers to each other. Harry could always count on Neville to have his back, and vice versa. The two had been involved in many missions together over the years. "Are you stalking me or something?"

Neville laughed. "Not at all, Harry, but the Magical CIA thought I ought to be here to help you out. I've heard that Hermione's come along too – how is she?"

"She's still wonderful as ever – how's Luna?" After the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville and Luna had become a couple, and they got married soon afterwards.

"I'm doing well, Harry," she said. "Where's Hermione?"

"She's still up in our room, getting ready. She should be down soon."

"Well, Harry, while the three of us are here chilling, how about we have a drink?"

"Sure thing, Neville. Monsieur, s'il vous plaît?" he said, calling a waiter.

"Oui, Monsieur?"

"I would like to have a dry martini, please."

"Tout de suite, Monsieur."

"Un minute, s'il vous plaît. Three measures of Tanqueray gin, one measure of Stolichnaya vodka, half a measure of Lillet Blanc, shake until cold and add a thin slice of lemon peel."

"Oui, Monsieur." The waiter came back with the drink, as Harry said, "Merci, Monsieur." Sipping the drink, he sighed and said, "Ah, that hits the spot."

"That sounds like quite a drink, Harry. Monsieur," Neville said, turning to the waiter, "pouvez-vous m'apporter la même boisson?" (can you bring me the same drink?) The waiter did so, and Neville sipped. "You're right, Harry, this is good! Do you have a name for it yet?"

"No, not yet, but I'll have to think of something. Are things still okay in Magical America for the two of you?"

"They're still okay, Harry. How come you didn't want to come to America? They're more open to opportunities for all magical citizens there than in Magical Britain – something we know you and Hermione would appreciate."

"With my British accent, Neville, I'd stick out like a sore thumb in America."

"What a lame excuse that is. I also have a British accent, and I'm shown a lot of respect."

"Of course you're shown a lot of respect. Whenever you're angry nowadays, your eyes start glowing green, and they aren't even green to begin with."

"True." Indeed, Neville's nickname among his fellow Magical CIA agents was "Snake Eyes," due to the way his temper would strike, very much like a rattlesnake. "You would get even more respect, considering you killed off Lord Voldemort. The Magical CIA would love to have you."

"Would America be big enough for the two of us?"

"Sure it would be more than big enough – you can take the West Coast, and I'll take the East Coast." The three of them laughed …

~[James Bond riff]~

"Messieurs-dames, if I may 'ave your attention, please? Merci, and on be'alf of our casino, we would like to welcome you for zis game. Now, ze Bäsel bank of Gringotts 'as been more zan 'appy to sponsor ze game, so, if Monsieur Burgengold will come up, we can soon begin. Monsieur?"

The goblin named walked up, cleared his throat, and said, in a heavy Swiss German accent, "Meine Herren und Damen, I am more than honored to be the representative here tonight for die Schweizesgringottsbank. The ten million Galleons you deposited for the game are in your accounts, and, should you lose them in the game, there is a buy-in of five million Galleons should you vish to use it. Now, vill each one of you come up and enter a passvord of your choice – six characters or more? Danke." As soon as everyone had done so, he said, "Sehr gut. Enjoy yourselves!"

"Shall we begin?" asked the first one, a Monsieur Mitterand, no relation to the former French President.

~[James Bond riff]~

About a couple hours into the game, Hermione came up to Harry and kissed him on the cheek. Harry looked at her and asked, "Weren't you supposed to come in so everyone could see you?"

"What? I thought I'd surprise you."

"Nicely done. Now, Hermione, if you would join Ron up at the bar there, I'll join you later." Rubbing his eyes, he muttered to himself, "Honestly … Monsieur Mitterand, is it okay if I order a drink?"

"Of course, Monsieur Potter, go ahead."

The bartender came up to him. "Vous désirez, Monsieur?"

Harry noticed this was another bartender, so he said, "A dry martini with the following ingredients: three measures of Tanqueray, one measure of Stolichnaya, half a measure of Lillet Blanc, shake until cold and add a thin slice of lemon peel."

"That sounds like quite a drink, Potter-san," said a Japanese player, Mr. Fukutu. "I'll have the same drink, please."

"So will I," said an Italian player, Mr. Tomelli.

"I'll have one as well," said Neville.

"Is that everyone? Can we continue our game now?" asked LeChiffre.

"Whoa, someone's in a hurry. What's the rush, Mr. LeChiffre? Scared?" teased Neville.

"In your dreams, Longbottom," sneered LeChiffre.

"If you'll just give me a moment, I have a lovely young lady to talk with," said Harry, prompting a groan of exasperation from LeChiffre. "Oh, keep your pants on, Lucy … I'll be back." Neville couldn't help falling out of his chair in laughter at LeChiffre's face, beet-red in anger.

Harry came over to a grinning Ron. "Mate, you've still got quite the pair of cojones, eh? Either that, or you are mentally suicidal."

"I know, Ron, I know," said Harry. He grabbed Hermione and gave her a passionate kiss. When they separated to breathe, Hermione asked, "Not that I don't appreciate the kiss, but what was that all about? I thought you dispensed with our cover."

"I did, Hermione, but you must admit, this one is a whole lot better. Are the players still looking at us?"

"Yes, in fact, Neville's jaw is on the table." Grinning, Harry went to kiss her again, only to have her turn the back of her head toward him. "Hermione, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

"You're losing money so fast that we won't be here past midnight."

"It was worth it, though, to discover his tell."

"His tell?" Both Hermione and Ron were intrigued.

"When he's bluffing, he has an eye twitch."

"He had the winning hand the last round."

"Yes, but he only got that on pure luck. When he started the round, he had nothing to speak of."

~[James Bond riff]~

A couple hours later, Monsieur Mitterand said, "Messieurs-dames, we 'ave now been 'ere for four 'ours, so it is time zat we take a break. Gameplay will resume tomorrow night."

Hermione walked up to Harry, who asked her, "You want to do what to me?"

"I'm not sure if I follow you, Harry."

"You said you can't wait to get me back into our room. Ron, you've planted the bug, right?"

"Yeah, Harry. I'll see the two of you later."

~[James Bond riff]~

Meanwhile, LeChiffre, arriving in his room, came upon his mistress with a couple of his Muggle clients from Uganda. The leader, Obanno, turned on him and said, "What happened to my money? Did you think I would not notice that you lost my money?"

"I'll get it back for you, I promise!" he pleaded.

"Consider yourself lucky that you need your hands to play cards, LeChiffre, or I would take one of them for your theft. Instead, I'm going to cut off one of your girlfriend's hands … how would you like that?" LeChiffre did not respond. "Not a word of protest … not a plea of mercy for you … really, my dear, you should find yourself a new boyfriend."

Before he could do anything else, a Blasting Curse sent the door flying off the hinges to hit Obanno's partner, killing him as his head impacted. Harry, walking through the wreckage of the door, said, "Now, now, now … this is no way to treat a banker, any banker, even if he has lost your money."

"And just who might you be?" The only response he got was a gunshot to the head from Hermione.

"Nice shooting, Hermione … what took you so long?"

"I just wanted to wait for the opportune moment, Harry. Is LeChiffre okay? What about the woman with him?"

"LeChiffre seems to have blacked out, he's okay. The woman seems a bit stressed."

"The door … it flew … off its hinges ..." said the woman.

"Muggle, from the sound of it," muttered Harry. "Miss? Are you okay?"

The woman nodded, although she still had a look of fear in her eyes. "What was that?"

"It's nothing to worry about," said Hermione in a soothing tone. "Somnus." The lady dropped asleep. "Obliviate."

After some more Obliviation work on LeChiffre, the two people were dragged to their bed to sleep. "That's good. Call Ron and tell him to get rid of these bodies."

~[James Bond riff]~

Later on, Harry saw Hermione sitting in the shower, her nightgown clinging to her. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

"It's like there's blood on my hands, Harry … I can't seem to wash it off …"

"Let me see." He took her hands in his, kissing amd licking them. "Is that better, darling?" She nodded, tears in her eyes. "If you need to cry, you may. I won't think any less of you." She did, and he held her in a close hug all through the rest of the night.

Aw, the romantic music in this scene makes me want to wipe tears from my eyes! A Harry/Hermione scene for the ages – what could be more romantic than comforting a damsel in distress? It makes sense for me to end the chapter here … I never noticed it before, but the poker game actually takes two days, so this is where I'll end it.

A slight self-promotion postscript to my loyal fans: take a look at my other works, such as the parody I put down, and the first story I've been writing, "Harry Potter and the Filii Fulminis." I don't have reviews on either one of them, and HP&FF isn't a H/Hr story (I do have a reasonable explanation for that.) I am allowed to toot my own horn, right?

Smiles,

Loki Palmer