THE STRIP, LAS VEGAS
PART ONE
The first thing they need to do is reconnaissance. They need to know as much as possible about the workings of each casino. That includes an inside knowledge of the rotation schedule for the dealers and the path of every cash cart used to usher chips on and off the floor.
For this, Harry puts Colin in The Bellagio and tells him to pay attention to absolutely everything, no matter how miniscule a detail it may seem at the time.
Hermione takes her post at the blackjack tables with an eagerness Harry and Ron haven't seen in her since Hogwarts. She's pleasant and involved in her role as Natalie and Harry doesn't miss the keen glances Ron sends her way when she isn't looking.
They need to know everything about every watcher, bouncer, security guard, and anyone else in possession of an identification card. Harry wants to know their names, where they're from, who they're seeing on the side, how they take their coffee in the morning. Absolutely everything. Hermione does what she does best and she observes during her lunch hour. She takes notes on a crossword puzzle and they give Harry and Ron a bit of insight into whose security pass they should steal.
There's a door in The Bellagio that's constantly watched by two security guards. No one goes in without an identification card and every cash cart that enters is inspected. It's like security at Gringotts, something the Twins explain in detail when they check in with Harry and Ron.
They also need to figure out the power situation. This is Dean's forte – on the night of the robbery, their plan is to flip a switch and shut down Sin City for a short period of time, long enough for them to get inside the vault. Dean works his way down a manhole in the middle of the strip and does some reconnaissance of his own.
Neville's expertise is surveillance. They need to somehow work their way into the security system of The Bellagio and with a few well placed spells and wires, they should be able to do just that…so long as Neville can get into the server room and work his magic.
'Well,' Neville says after staring at the blueprints for a few moments, 'it isn't the least accessible systems I've ever seen, but it's close. I don't suppose they have a closed circuit feed I can tap into with some transfiguration spells?'
Harry shakes his head. 'No such luck.'
Neville frowns. 'Then it's definitely going to be a black bag job.' He considers it a moment longer. 'How about in-house wizards?'
Ron's grin is almost feral. 'Two…and one of them is lonely…'
The Pussy Cat is a fairly well known strip club just left of the Vegas Strip and the lonely wizard Ron mentioned makes his way there two or three times a week to stare at a stripper named Charmaine. Tonight, while Charmaine dances and keeps him occupied with other thoughts, her hands roam and steal away the lonely wizard's identification badge. She kisses his forehead.
'I'll be right back, honey. Don't move a muscle.'
The lonely wizard leers in a drunken way. 'Depends on the muscle…'
Charmaine keeps her disgust to herself and makes her way out the back to where Ron is waiting for her, leaning against the driver's side door of his Cadillac. There's a bundle of balloons filling the backseat and she has the grace not to ask why.
'Thanks, Charmaine,' he says as he takes the ID badge and trades her a C-note for it. 'I'll have it back within an hour.' He opens the door, starts to get in. 'Oh, and tell your mom I said hello.'
Charmaine shrugs. 'Tell her yourself. She'll be onstage in five minutes.'
Ron considers this option as he watches Charmaine go back inside. It's tempting, but duty calls.
George looks absolutely ridiculous dressed in a cowboy outfit, complete with a fake mustache and a slight glamour to hide the fact he looks exactly like the 'tourist' he's about to pick a fight with, and he's carrying the balloons from Ron's car, but he feels vindicated by the fact that Fred looks equally ridiculous dressed in a 70s leisure suit and aviator sunglasses. It's all part of the fun, really.
He makes his way through the casino until he's close to the door they need to get through. Once there, Fred appears out of the mayhem of the slot machines, bumps into him, and George lets the balloons go. They rise up to the ceiling and cover the hidden camera.
'Hey, watch it bud,' Fred says and pushes George for good measure.
The security monitor clouds over with balloons and a security officer says, '433, we have visual impairment on the east door camera.'
The guard standing outside said door, number 433 himself, hears this and looks up to see the balloons. He approaches George.
'Excuse me sir, but you're going to have to move those balloons.'
George ignores him, suddenly – and very convincingly – engaged in an argument with Fred, the tourist.
'Who you callin' bud, pal?' George asks and pokes Fred in the chest.
Fred puffs up his chest and takes a step closer. 'Who you callin' pal, friend?'
George also takes a step closer. 'Who you callin' friend…' Where's a thesaurus when you need one? 'bud?'
The guard attempts to break it up before the Twins get out of control and while he's engaged in the argument, Neville takes the presented opportunity to slip inside the east door using the stolen ID card.
Now, it was Ron's hope that Neville could remember the directions to the server room without having to write them down but as he and Harry wait for their little spy to work his way down one hallway and another, they come to conclusion that drawing Neville a map might have been a risk worth taking.
Finally, after what seems like eons, Neville reaches the server room and sets about the easy – for Neville – task of transfiguring wires. It takes only a couple of minutes, but when he's finished, the monitors in Harry's hotel room are up and broadcasting.
'Why do they always insist on painting hallways that color?' Harry asks.
Ron shrugs. 'They say taupe is very soothing.'
The Twins are still 'helping' with the necessary diversion outside the door. They're nose to nose and the guard is looking more and more harassed with each word that comes out of their mouths.
'Ever heard of a sense of direction?' George asks, annoyed.
Fred laughs at him. 'Whatever, balloon boy.' He laughs a little harder. 'You're a balloon boy – balloon boy.'
The guard attempts to pull them apart. 'Boys…'
Neville gathers up his Muggle tools and his wand and stuffs everything into his pockets. He wipes his forehead and leaves the server room. The boys watch him from the hotel room. He looks left…he looks right…he heads in the wrong direction.
'Uh-oh,' Harry says.
Neville has forgotten which way is out – not a good scenario for either him or the other 10 players. He makes a wrong turn, backtracks, turns the right way. He can see the door and relief – visible even to Ron and Harry – washes over him.
At least until he spots a guard walking towards him, at which point he's once again a barrel of nerves.
'Hiya,' the guard says and Neville nods, looks straight ahead.
'Fine, thanks,' he says.
He thinks he's in the clear…and then the guard calls out to him. 'Hey…'
Outside the door, George grabs his balloons and apologizes to the guard. Fred tries to grab some of them and he swats his brother's hand away.
'Get your own balloons, you…animal,' he says and walks away.
Neville's almost on a dead run to the exit, but the guard is coming up behind him. He uses the ID card but it doesn't work.
'Hey!' the guard yells.
He tries the other side and the light flashes to green. He goes to open the door, but the guard catches up to him and blocks him with a well placed giant arm.
'You forgot this,' he says and Neville's knees almost give out on him.
It's a little monitor, one he uses to see inside the wires. He takes it, smiles serenely at the guard. 'Thanks.'
'How's the reception on that thing?' the guard asks, thinking it's a portable tv.
Neville's smile widens slightly, to the point of almost hysterical. 'The best.' He pushes open the door and escapes into the casino.
Harry and Ron each breathe a deep sigh of relief.
'Well…' Harry says.
'Yeah…' Ron counters.
Harry grins. 'Fourth task – construction.'