LAS VEGAS

Harry, Ron, and Hermione are waiting in the living room of Snape's mansion, discussing things both past and present, when the doorbell rings and Snape excuses himself to answer it. He opens the door to discover seven individuals standing outside, each with a different look of apprehension and excitement on their faces.

'Trick or treat,' Neville says with a small smile.

Snape eyes him wearily, then looks out at the rest of them. 'What, did you guys get a group rate or something?' he asks around the cigar in his mouth.

The seven of them follow him into the house and out to the back patio where there is a wet bar and a table full of food waiting for them. They break off into smaller groups, Harry coming out to mingle among them while Ron and Hermione stand by the food table and talk in hushed voices.

George Weasley finds himself next to Albus, who picks up an orange from the food table and pockets it.

'Do you make it out to Utah much, Albus?' George asks around a mouthful of shrimp.

Albus raises an eyebrow and smiles slightly. 'Not as much as I would like.'

George nods. 'You should. You'd like it. You'd like Provo.'

Behind him, Fred picks up a massive shrimp and frowns at it. 'Anyone seen the salsa that goes with this thing?'

Cho has Hermione entranced as she builds a house of cards on the diving board to Snape's pool, her movements so slow and steadied that the diving board isn't moving at all. Dean is mixing a drink for Neville, much to the amusement of Ron who's convinced the younger man is going to end up drunk and passed out long before he should. Colin has settled himself on the edge of a chaise lounge and is watching everything with hawk-like eyes. He's the first to see Harry move into the middle of the crowd.

Harry claps his hands together, commanding everyone's attention. 'Everyone: Welcome to Las Vegas. Everybody eaten? Good. Everybody sober? Close enough.' He smiles just slightly. 'Before we start, nobody's on the line yet. What I'm about to propose to you is both highly lucrative and highly dangerous. If that doesn't sound like your particular brand of firewhiskey, help yourself to as much food as you'd like and safe journey. No hard feelings here.' He pauses, uses his serious nature for effect, and continues when he knows everyone is still with him. 'Otherwise, come with me.'

Harry turns and walks back into the house. Gradually, the crowd follows him inside, all except for Colin who stands from the chaise lounge but makes no effort to move towards the door. Snape sees this and walks toward him, cigar still firmly attached to the side of his mouth.

'Hi,' Colin says when Snape is closer.

'You're Hugh Mitchell's kid, huh?'

Colin shrugs. 'Yeah.'

'Outta Chicago, right?'

'Yeah.'

'It's nice there. You like it?'

Colin smiles, a little off-guard. 'Yeah.'

Snape's smile is predatory, even around the cigar. 'That's wonderful. Now get in the goddamn house.'

It takes him only a moment before he moves toward the door, Snape following at a slow pace. When they both get inside the rest of the crew is sitting down, focusing on Harry who has, in the meantime, set up a 3-D image of three casinos – Malfoy's Vegas - using his wand. The casinos hover above a pool table in the center of Snape's den and the remaining ten wizards crowd around the table.

'Ladies and gentlemen, the 1400 block of Las Vegas Boulevard. Otherwise known as the Bellagio, the Mirage, and the MGM Grand. Together, they're the three most profitable casinos in Las Vegas.' Harry's wrist flicks slightly and the top layer of the casinos is removed, revealing an underlying structure of connecting tunnels and one main vault. 'This is the Bellagio vault. Located beneath the strip and two hundred feet of solid earth, it safeguards every dime that comes through each of the three casinos above it.'

He has them hooked, he can see it in their faces. Even Ron looks amazed. He smiles a little at his audience.

'We're going to rob it.'

A collective gulp of air is taken in by everyone in the room. Colin takes the swizzle stick he's been chewing on for the last ten minutes out of his mouth and smirks slightly.

'A smash-and-grab job, then?' he asks.

Ron looks at him, his expression blank. 'It's a little more complicated than that.'

Colin's smirk disappears. 'Well, yeah.'

Harry ignores the commentary and with a second flick of his wrist, the image changes to what appears to be security camera footage of a casino floor.

'Courtesy of Hermione Granger, new blackjack dealer at the Bellagio, security footage of the casino floor, the tunnel to the vault, and, eventually, the vault itself. The faces in front of him say it all – they're in and they're in for a killing, monetarily speaking, of course.

'Okay. Bad news first. This place houses a security system that rivals most dark wizard's wards. First, we have to get into the casino cages.'

'Here, here, and here,' Ron explains, motioning at the floating image of the casino vault with his own wand.

'Which everyone here knows will take more than a smile. Next: through these doors, each of which requires a different six-digit code changed every twelve hours. Past those lies the elevator, and this is where it gets tricky: the elevator won't move without authorized fingerprint identifications…'

'Which we can't fake,' Ron explains with a frown.

'…and vocal confirmations from both the security center within the Bellagio and the vault below…'

'Which we won't get because those are also protected by wards.'

Harry smiles slightly. 'Furthermore, the elevator shaft is rigged with motion detectors and apparition wards…'

'Meaning if we manually override the lift, the shaft's exit will lock down immediately and we'll be trapped.' Even Ron is smiling.

'Once we've gotten down the shaft, though, then it's a walk in the park: just three more guards with Uzis and dark wands and predilections toward not being robbed, and the most elaborate vault door conceived by man. Any questions?'

The silence is deafening.

Harry wonders, for just a moment, if this isn't going to work. Then, out of left field, Cho raises her hand and begins to question them in Cantonese. He isn't sure when she started speaking Cantonese, or, for that matter, when she stopped speaking English, but he does know that he hasn't a clue as to what she's saying.

Ron, on the other hand, seems to understand her completely.

'No,' he says in response to what Harry can only guess is an elaborate question regarding their sanity. 'Tunneling is out. There are Richter Scales – they measure vibrations in the Earth – monitoring the ground for 100 meters around the vault on all sides. If a groundhog tried to nest there, they'd know about it. Anyone else?'

Again, silence. Dean is staring at Ron with something akin to newfound respect and Hermione is staring at Cho with an expression Harry can't quite place, but it reminds him of how she often stares at puzzles before breaking them.

'You said something about good news?' Fred asks.

Harry smiles, glad someone finally asked.

'The Nevada Gaming Commission stipulates: a casino must hold in reserve enough cash to cover every chip at play on its floor. As I mentioned, this vault services each of the three casinos above it. That means: during the week, by law, it must hold anywhere from sixty to seventy million dollars in cash and coin. On a weekend, between eighty and ninety million. On a fight night, like the one two weeks from tonight, the night we're going to rob it, at least a hundred and fifty million. Without breaking a sweat.' All eyes are on him and he can see the dollar signs light up in them. 'Now, there are eleven of us. Each with an equal share. You do the math.'

They do, in their heads, except for George who uses his long, spindly fingers to count off the division. When he settles on the number, he whistles.

'That's exactly what I said, mate,' Ron says with a smile.

'I have a question,' Albus says from the back of the room. Harry turns toward him and nods. 'Say we do get into the cage and through the security doors, there, and down the elevator we can't move and past the guards with guns and dark wands, and into the vault we can't open…'

'Without being seen by the cameras,' Ron adds.

This elicits a few gasps and grumbles, most notably from Dean who already seems put out because he can't see where he'll be needed. Harry smiles.

'Sorry. I forgot to mention the cameras.'

Albus looks at him over his horn-rimmed glasses and frowns. 'Say we do all that. We're just supposed to walk out of there with a hundred million dollars in cash on us without getting stopped?'

Harry's grin is a throwback to the days when he and Ron and Hermione ran through the halls of Hogwarts with golden halos. Albus has seen that grin, has seen the havoc it can cause, and he instinctively reaches for his roll of antacids in his pocket.

'Yeah.'

'Oh,' he says and pops a couple of the round tablets into his mouth.

'Alright. Here's how we'll begin…'