LOS ANGELES -

Ron Weasley, formerly of northern England and the talk of the wizarding world, is currently posted outside a seedy nightclub in downtown Los Angeles, California, waiting for his final charge to arrive. The food in America has turned out to be decidedly better than the food in England ever was and he has a basketful of fried things in front of him that he's been munching on for close to a half hour.

"Ron, my man!" a voice shouts and he turns his head just slightly to see Topher Grace running towards him, exuberant like a puppy dog. Ron fights the urge to kick him. "Hey, have you ever thought about being incorporated. You should really look into it."

They fall into step together as they make their way into the club and towards the back room where the poker lesson that Ron has been teaching for the last three months is stationed. Ron says nothing.

"So I was talking to my manager last night…"

"Bernie?"

Topher falters a little. "What? Oh, no. My business manager. Though, come to think of it, they're both named Bernie."

Ron rolls his eyes.

"Anyway, my manager was telling me that because what we do here could be considered research for a future gig I could totally write it off on my taxes." They stop moving and Ron looks at the younger man. Topher frowns slightly. "Only, I'd have to pay you by check."

Ron says nothing, just looks at him. He doesn't have to say anything, really, as he's perfected the 'look of doom', the look that suggests that what you've just said is the stupidest thing he's ever heard and that you should probably refrain from ever saying it again.

Topher nods quickly. "Right. Cash. Got it."

They walk into the room and the table is full of big name celebrities all under the age of 30. Ron feels old and tired and bored, but they're going to pay him a hefty sum of American money and he can't fault them for that so he goes about trying to teach them the finer points of poker.

He hands the cards to Joshua Jackson. "You're up, Josh."

"Right." Josh deals out the cards in the wrong direction.

"Josh, Josh." Josh looks up. "To your right. Always to your right."

"Right. Sorry."

It goes along like this for fifteen minutes or so and by the end Ron is wondering why he ever came to LA in the first place. He could have had a nice flat in London, waited for Harry to get out and gone out and done something incredibly stupid once again.

Then again, he's kind of glad he isn't in prison so LA will do nicely for now.

They break and he winds his way out to the front of the club. He sits at the bar, orders a vodka tonic, and watches the dancers through the glass windows. Even the dancers look bored.

"How's it going back there?" the bartender asks, yelling over the music.

"Longest night of my life," Ron replies.

The bartender smiles. "What?"

Ron grins at him. "I'm running away with your wife."

The guys smiles and gives him a thumbs up, walks away.

Ron shakes his head and tries to remind himself of why he learned poker in the first place, other than to take Seamus Finnegan's money on a fairly regular basis.

He finishes his drink and heads back to the table. He can hear voices as he approaches the room and the sight that greets him upon arrival is both a blessing and a curse. He sits down in his appointed chair and allows the celebrities to explain their newest guest.

"Ron, it's okay if Mr. Potter sits in, isn't it?" Topher asks.

Ron exchanges a glance with Harry and smiles slightly. "The more the merrier."

The cards are dealt and the game begins. Somehow, the fact that Harry's just been released from prison enters into the conversation and the celebrities, with their posh existences, pause at this.

"Do you mind if I ask what you were in for?" Josh asks.

Harry straightens his cards. "Selling stolen goods."

"What were you selling?"

"Celtic pensieves," Ron says without looking up from his cards.

"Is there much money in…"

"Celtic pensieves?" Harry asks and Josh nods. "If you can move them, yes."

"Moving them is the problem, though, and you need a buyer that isn't going to run off and tell the authorities that you're trying to peddle stolen goods." Ron's explanation earns him a small glare from Harry that none of the others notice.

They move on from Harry's sordid past and play some poker. Eventually, Harry bets $500 and they all pause and look to Ron for guidance. He's holding Harry's eye and he's smiling very slightly.

"Chances are, he's bluffing. He's building the pot up so that you'll all fold your hands. You can do what you want, but I'm sticking with it. I'm going to call him." He tosses $500 worth of chips into the pot in the center of the table.

Everyone follows his lead and Josh even raises the bet to $1,000.

Harry regards them all with a blank expression and keeps his eyes on Ron. He tosses $1,000 into the pot and adds another $1,000. They all take it in for a minute and then call his bet. He lays down his cards.

"Now, I'm not too sure about the four 9's but I'm pretty confident that the Ace is high."

Ron's smile is small enough that none of the others notice. Harry takes the pot, the group breaks up, and Harry and Ron meet outside. They look at each other, nod, and take off in Ron's Cadillac. Ron can honestly say that he's never been so happy to see someone in his entire life.