Vault 419

Note: Hopefully fully canon compatible and reasonably plotty even if it's not entirely serious. :) Originally written for springtime_gen on Livejournal.

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In Harry's opinion, a major advantage of living in Number 12, Grimmauld Place was that owls couldn't find the house if he didn't want them to. It kept the number of letters addressed to himself and Ron down to manageable proportions. Unfortunately, the corresponding disadvantage was that said owls could easily find them at the Ministry, which meant that all the post piled up in their cubicles in the Auror Office instead. Since there were relatively few remaining Aurors after the debacle of the Thicknesse year, Harry and Ron had surreptitiously moved their stuff to the nearest empty cubicles and left the letters and memos where they were.

It had sounded like a pretty good plan, until the morning Arthur dropped by to inquire why they hadn't turned up to Kingsley Shacklebolt's big reception the previous night despite repeated invitations. It only required one pointed look from him at the stacks of paper hiding their desks to leave them feeling rather guilty, and vowing to work through the mess.

"Anything worth keeping yet?" asked Harry after half an hour. The most significant thing he'd found was a form Percy had sent round detailing the correct method for claiming expenses, so he wasn't expecting much.

"Nah. Adverts for second-hand brooms - memo from Magical Maintenance asking if we have any special weather requests - someone who wanted tickets for last month's Dorcan D'Eath concert, don't know how he sings with those teeth - more fan letters, if anything it's got worse since I left WWW - blimey." Ron turned scarlet. "This witch sent me a photo. She's not exactly ... well-dressed."

"Really?" Harry leaned over to take a look, and grinned. "Wow! She must have Apparated into those. 'To my favourite hunky handsome hero, you can Incarcerate me any time' ... see, aren't you glad you decided to come and help out the Aurors now? Mind you, if you're going to stick pictures like that up in your cubicle, you'd better not let Hermione see them ..."

"Do I look that stupid?" asked Ron, dropping the photo as if it were cursed. "Don't answer that." He picked up the next letter, scanned it quickly, then blinked. "What in the name of Merlin's dirty underpants ..."

"Another of your scarlet women, is it?"

"Sod off, Harry. No, it's ... well, take a look."

Harry plucked the letter from Ron's hand and read it. It wasn't quite what he'd been expecting.

URGENT REQUEST FOR BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP

FIRST, I MUST ASK FOR YOUR STRICTEST CONFIDENCE IN THIS TRANSACTION. I HAVE COMPLETE CONFIDENCE IN YOUR ABILITY AND RELIABILITY TO CARRY OUT A TRANSACTION OF THIS MAGNITUDE REQUIRING MAXIMUM TRUST AND DISCRETION.

I AM ACTING ON BEHALF OF CORNELIUS FUDGE FORMER MINISTER FOR MAGIC. WE WISH TO RELEASE CERTAIN PILES OF GALLEONS THAT ARE CURRENTLY TRAPPED IN GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK. IN ORDER TO COMMENCE THIS BUSINESS WE SOLICIT YOUR ASSISTANCE TO ENABLE US TO TRANSFER INTO YOUR ACCOUNT THE SAID TRAPPED GOLD.

THE SOURCE OF THIS MONEY IS AS FOLLOWS: DURING FORMER TROUBLED TIMES THE MINISTER WAS ENTITLED TO CONSIDERABLE ALLOWANCES FOR DISCRETIONARY PROJECTS. THE GOBLINS WERE GIVEN INSTRUCTIONS TO PLACE MANY OF THESE FUNDS IN A SECURE VAULT READY FOR PAYMENT TO NOMINATED WIZARDS AND WITCHES FOR SERVICES RENDERED TO THE MINISTRY. HOWEVER, BY VIRTUE OF OUR POSITION AS INTERESTED PARTIES WE CANNOT CLAIM THEM IN OUR NAMES.

I HAVE THEREFORE BEEN DELEGATED AS A MATTER OF TRUST TO LOOK FOR A PARTNER INTO WHOSE VAULT WE WOULD TRANSFER A SUM AMOUNTING TO TWO MILLION SIX HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN THOUSAND GALLEONS FOURTEEN SICKLES AND TWENTY THREE KNUTS. HENCE WE ARE WRITING YOU THIS LETTER. WE AGREE TO SHARE THE MONEY AS FOLLOWS: 1. 20% FOR THE VAULT OWNER (YOU) 2. 70% FOR THE INTERESTED PARTIES (US) 3. 10% TO BE USED IN SETTLING EXPENSES INCLUDING GRINGOTTS BANKING FEES SECURITY TROLLS AND PAYMENTS TO SELECTED GOBLINS TO ENSURE ACCURATE AND CONFIDENTIAL TRANSFER.

PLEASE NOTE THIS TRANSACTION IS 100% SAFE AND WE HOPE TO COMMENCE THE TRANSFER NO MORE THAN SEVEN DAYS FROM DATE OF RECEIPT OF YOUR OWL WITH FOLLOWING INFORMATION: YOUR BUSINESS ADDRESS VAULT NUMBER AND SIGNATURE. THE ABOVE INFORMATION WILL ENABLE US TO WRITE PAPERWORK ACCORDINGLY.

WE ARE LOOKING FORWARD TO DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU AND SOLICIT YOUR CONFIDENTIALITY IN THIS TRANSACTION. PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIPT OF THIS LETTER BY RETURN OWL. THIS PARCHMENT IS CHARMED AND IF YOU WRITE YOUR REPLY ON THE BACK IT WILL KNOW WHERE TO FIND US. I WILL SEND YOU DETAILED INFORMATION OF THIS PENDING PROJECT WHEN I HEAR FROM YOU.

YOURS FAITHFULLY

WARLOCK CLEMENT MALBRANQUE

NOTE; PLEASE QUOTE THE REFERENCE NUMBER (CF/M/11/98) IN ALL YOUR RESPONSES

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Is this serious?"

"Can't be, surely. Thousands of Galleons for doing bugger all?" Ron had a wistful look on his face at the thought, which he quickly shook off when he saw Harry's expression. "Nice try, but even Fudge can't be daft enough to expect anyone to fall for that. Must be somebody having a laugh."

"Wasn't all that funny actually, lads."

Harry and Ron jumped as their colleague Williamson popped his head round the cubicle wall. "What do you mean?"

"I mean a couple of people came in here last year asking about letters like that. They were being pretty coy about what happened, but I reckon they paid money to 'release funds' and never got anywhere."

"How thick is that?" asked Ron. "Did you do anything?"

Williamson snorted. "Be your age, Weasley. We didn't have time to spare for trivia. It was just before old Rufus got himself bumped off and we hardly ever saw him as it was. And if someone tried it on with the crowd we had around afterwards, more fool them. I left sharpish as soon as I saw what was happening."

"Good for you," said Harry. He looked at the letter again. "Wouldn't Fudge object to someone using his name for this?"

"Shouldn't think he could care less," said Williamson with a look of scorn. "Once we'd seen His Voldyness turn up at the Ministry, he couldn't wait to leave the country. The moment Rufus didn't need him any more, he cleared off to the South of France and never looked back."

"Can't we get the French Ministry to send him back again?" asked Harry with a scowl.

"No such luck. They never had a high opinion of us, even before the war, so they're not going to bust a gut over someone who hasn't broken any laws over there, are they? Come to think of it, he didn't actually break any laws over here, either."

"What?"

"Changed them to suit himself or bent them until they nearly broke, maybe, but he never quite snapped them. Pity, a lot of us would like to ask him why he covered everything up for a year when a blind Kneazle could have seen something dodgy was going on. But even that Skeeter woman couldn't find him. Mind you, I don't blame him for staying out of sight if she was after him - personally, I'd rather take my chances with the Death Eaters."

Harry laughed, then a thought struck him. "But if he's staying out of sight, he can't deny anything, can he? It makes the setup for the letter sound more plausible."

"Can't we do something about it now, though?" asked Ron.

"Note in the press or something?" suggested Harry.

"Oh, it's already been in the press, mate." Williamson seemed highly amused. "Just ask your journalist friend."

"Friend?" Harry was confused for a moment - that didn't sound like Rita Skeeter, or indeed anyone who worked at the Prophet - but then he got the idea. "Ah, right. We'll go and see her."

*****

"Oh yes, we've known about Fudge's criminal activities for ages," said Luna happily when Harry and Ron showed her the letter. "It was The Quibbler that broke the story, actually - he was silly enough to send a letter to Daddy, so naturally we printed it."

"Naturally," agreed Harry. "Did your readers come up with any information?"

"Well, a few of them tried to get money out, but they found that even when you paid access fees for the vault, there always seemed to be some further problem with the paperwork."

"Now there's a surprise," said Ron, although he didn't sound particularly astonished.

Luna nodded serenely. "Some people thought it was a trick to get their money, naturally, but Daddy thinks it was just the goblins getting their revenge for all the things Fudge ordered done to them. You can't blame them, really."

"No, I suppose not," said Harry, trying very hard not to hurt Luna's feelings by showing any scepticism at the idea of Cornelius Fudge as criminal genius and scourge of goblins. Then again, he suspected that she knew perfectly well what his opinion was and felt completely untroubled by it.

"You didn't do any investigating yourself, by any chance?" asked Ron.

"I'm afraid not. Daddy did think of writing back to them to find out more, but he was very busy with important stories about Harry and Voldemort, of course, and I was at school. And he only has this one business address, so he didn't want to give Minister Scrimgeour an excuse to shut The Quibbler down for money laundering. Vampires can be quite vindictive when they think they've been cheated out of gold, you know."

"Dunno. I've only ever met that one at the party, and he seemed sparklingly happy with his book deal," said Harry as Ron mouthed the word 'vampires?' at him.

"Are you going to investigate the case then?" asked Luna, staring at him without blinking. Harry had never quite been sure how she managed to do that. "We could try writing to Fudge now we've started to publish again, but I don't suppose he'd believe we were sincere after all we said about him in the past. It would have to be someone who seemed to be not too scrupulous and in need of money."

Ron caught Harry's eye. "I think I know just the man."

*****

George finished reading the letter and looked at Ron as if he couldn't believe what he was asking. "Have you gone completely round the twist, Ronniekins?"

Ron scowled at the name, but stood his ground. "No. We need someone with a business address to answer it and say they're interested."

"Who'd be stupid enough to believe that? We -" George winced at the pronoun "- got one of these last year, and I had another one a few weeks ago. I told Verity to bin them."

"They obviously think the people they send these to are stupid enough to believe it. They must be hoping to get replies."

George smirked. "Well yeah, they might expect you'd be stupid enough to reply without Hermione here to keep you on a lead ..." Ron made an extremely rude gesture, and George seemed to realise he'd gone far enough. "Where is she, anyway?" he asked, quickly changing tack. "I thought the people who went back to Hogwarts for an extra year got weekends off?"

"She's got Head Girl duties," answered Ron grudgingly. "They're taking the Muggle Studies students out on a field trip to Inverness to, er, 'get first-hand experience of modern Muggle culture'. She had no choice but to go when they asked her to supervise, it was her idea in the first place."

"Oh, OK." George sounded nonplussed, and Harry didn't blame him. He wasn't sure modern Muggle culture would actually have reached Inverness yet. "That still doesn't explain why you're asking me."

"Well, the letter claims they need businesses to work with them," said Harry. "I suppose they'd be happy with any answer if it gets them gold - but we want to make it sound like it might be a real reply from someone who's a bit dodgy. You have bought stuff you weren't supposed to before, remember. Er, not that we know that officially, of course."

"Yeah. You don't need to actually do much, just string them along and pretend you're interested," added Ron. "Try to get more details out of them. Prank them a bit."

"Oh, a prank. Right." George suddenly broke out into a broad grin, a welcome sight these days. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Count me in."

*****

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

93, Diagon Alley

London

Your reference: CF/M/11/98

Dear Sir,

Thank you for your letter to my brother Ron which offered such an exciting financial opportunity. Unfortunately he has never been much of a man of commerce, as my bottom line goes to show, but he did agree to extend this offer to me and allow me to act on his behalf for an equal share in the profits. I hope this arrangement will be acceptable to you. As I'm sure you know, the recent troubles in this country have been very bad for trade and money is tight.

However, though your offer is most attractive, I'm afraid I must ask for more information about what's required of me before I can definitely commit to doing business with you. Gringotts have been very strict in their requirements since the recent security breach, and if the vault concerned is one of the new triple-guarded ones, then frankly I would prefer not to risk my neck by going anywhere near it without being absolutely sure everything is going to work. I'm sure you can appreciate my point.

Please reply by return with the steps you propose that we take in this matter. And direct your owl to me personally, not to the business. My assistant is a charming girl but occasionally a bit too nosy for comfort, as well as being inclined to throw away anything that looks like an unsolicited offer before I ever get to see it.

Yours faithfully

George Weasley

"Right then, at least that's a start," said Ron as they watched the owl fly away. "Should get their interest if anything does. Did you get anywhere with Gringotts?"

Harry winced. He'd tried the obvious course of action by setting up a meeting with a senior goblin to ask if anyone had paid gold into the bank in the hope of releasing hypothetical slush funds, but it hadn't exactly been a roaring success. The goblin had smugly quoted the confidentiality clauses of the Gringotts Charter at him, and when an annoyed Harry had made the mistake of trying to bluff by saying he could ask for a search warrant, it had not gone down well. The goblins had bustled him out of the bank immediately, with the intimation that if he really wanted to know, he was welcome to try to break in again if he thought he was hard enough.

"Nah, they wouldn't tell me anything," he replied shortly. After all, the Auror introduction pack did say it was more efficient to summarise when making a report rather than confuse with excessive detail.

"Shame. How about we ask around the Ministry and see if anyone else got these letters?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Great plan, Ron. Never would have thought of that." He paused to think for a moment. "On the other hand, I don't have any better ideas, so let's do it."

The results of their inquiries were mixed. Many people just looked at them blankly when the subject was mentioned, but quite a few laughed or scowled and said that yes, they'd had one, but it was obvious nonsense and they'd thrown it away. Some thought for a moment and then Summoned a copy from their wastepaper basket; this was useful confirmation, but since the letters were all the same it didn't get them any further. And there were a few people who immediately denied all knowledge of the letters with a very shifty look. Naturally, those were the ones whose names Harry and Ron made a mental note of as being worth further investigation.

Unfortunately, Harry thought he could see a problem.

"How are we going to find out whether they tried to get the money?" he asked Ron gloomily. "Gringotts won't talk to me - um, to the Aurors."

"We keep it in the family again," said Ron, tapping the side of his nose.

*****

"Is this the same thing you've got George messing about with?" asked Bill with a scowl. With all the scars on his face, this seemed more threatening than he probably intended.

Ron nodded. "Come on, mate, you can't be the only one not to help us out when we need you, eh?" he said, sounding more wheedling than he probably intended. "All the others give their brother a hand."

"They do?"

"Course they do! We knew we could rely on Charlie when we needed an illegal dragon smuggled out of the country." Bill raised his eyebrows, and Harry tried to look as if he didn't know what Ron was talking about. "If we have a load of complicated paperwork to do for Kingsley, Percy always helps us work through it." That had saved their sanity more than once. Percy had been retained in his old job after explaining at length how he'd secretly acted against Thicknesse, although if Fudge was ever mentioned he changed the subject at the earliest opportunity, and he flatly refused to talk about Scrimgeour at all. "We ask Ginny if we - well, all right, I dunno what we'd ask Ginny for. Don't answer that, Harry!" Harry hadn't actually planned to. He wasn't that stupid.

"No, please don't," said Bill. "This is ridiculous, law enforcement on both sides of the family and all they ever ask me to do is break the law!"

"Not break it as such," said Harry. "More sort of ... erm, bend it until it nearly breaks, but you know, so it's not quite ... snapped." Bill looked sceptical, and he added, "Well, nothing that you couldn't fix with a quick Reparo before anybody notices, at least."

"And you want me to ..."

"Just sort of ... um, nose around at the bank and see if any of the people on the list have tried to get money out of that vault."

"Only if their file happens to fall open as you pass by, of course," added Ron virtuously.

"Of course." Bill looked at them in exasperation. "Oh, all right. I'll see what I can do, provided it won't put my job at risk. I can't afford to get the sack, not now we've got a child on the way."

"What?" chorused Harry and Ron.

Bill smirked. "Ah. Sorry, we were going to tell you about that. You're going to be an uncle, Ron."

"Blimey," said Ron weakly.

*****

Much to Harry's surprise, a couple of days later George asked them to drop by in Diagon Alley. "I take back what I said," he told them, ushering them into the back room and leaving an obviously intensely curious Verity to mind the shop. "Whoever it is, they really are stupid enough to fall for this."

"How do you mean?"

"I got a letter," said George with a shrug, handing it over.

GREETINGS TO YOU AND MANY THANKS FOR YOUR KINDNESS IN REPLYING TO MY OFFER.

WHILE I NATURALLY WOULD PREFER TO DEAL WITH THE PERSON TO WHO IT WAS FIRST OFFERED AND DO NOT WISH TO DO BUSINESS WITH JUST ANYONE YOUR REPUTATION AS A MAN OF BROAD MINDEDNESS AND DISCRETION HAS GONE BEFORE YOU AND IF YOU WISH TO ACT ON YOUR BROTHERS BEHALF THAT WOULD BE PERFECTLY ALL RIGHT. YOU NEED TO HAVE A LITTLE WORD WITH YOUR ASSISTANT.

REST ASSURED THAT THE VAULT WHICH IS NUMBER 419 BY THE WAY IS NOT A MAXIMUM SECURITY ONE AND IS PROTECTED BY NOTHING MORE THAN THE STANDARD SPELLS AND POSSIBLY CREATURES THESE DAYS I'M NOT SURE. THE DIFFICULTY LIES SOLELY IN THE CONDITIONS OF ACCESS PLACED BY THE ORIGINAL OWNER FORMER MINISTER FOR MAGIC CORNELIUS FUDGE.

I CAN CERTAINLY APPRECIATE YOUR POINT ABOUT THE GOBLINS THEY ARE VERY MUCH INCLINED TO PUT OBSTACLES IN THE WAY AND INSIST THAT THE PROJECT PAYEES CALL PERSONALLY TO COMPLETE A DECLARATION THAT THEY ARE ENTITLED TO THE GOLD WHICH IS WHY WE NEED SOMEONE ON THE SPOT WITH THE NECESSARY BUSINESS ACUMEN. ONCE YOU HAVE THE FORM OF ACCEPTANCE OF TRANSFER PLEASE FORWARD IT TO ME TO SIGN. YOU WILL NEED TO PAY THE REQUESTED FEES TO RELEASE THE GOLD WHICH OFFICIALLY IS 0.1% THAT COMES TO ABOUT 2617 GALLEONS AND A FEW SICKLES AND KNUTS IF YOU'VE GOT A BIT OF PARCHMENT HANDY TO WORK IT OUT ALTHOUGH EXPECT THE GOBLINS TO CHARGE YOU MORE REMEMBER 10% OF THE TOTAL IS ALLOCATED FOR THAT. THIS MONEY WILL OF COURSE HAVE TO COME OUT OF YOUR OWN VAULT INITIALLY BUT WILL BE REPAID MANY TIMES OVER ONCE WE GET THE GOLD OUT OF THEIR GRUBBY LITTLE HANDS. WHEN CONTACTING THE BANK ASK FOR RORDRUK WHO IS FAMILIAR WITH THE DETAILS OF THIS ACCOUNT.

PLEASE WRITE SOON WITH YOUR ACCEPTANCE OF THIS ARRANGEMENT.

YOURS FAITHFULLY

WARLOCK CLEMENT MALBRANQUE

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Now what?" they chorused.

"I'm not paying out any money for you, lads," said George firmly. "The business is doing well, but not so well that I can afford to throw a small fortune down the drain."

"It's a result, though," said Ron, reading through the letter again. "Do you think he'd agree to meet you?"

"We can but try."

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

93, Diagon Alley

London

Your reference: CF/M/11/98

Dear Sir,

Thank you for your reply to my letter, it was of great interest. Unfortunately great interest is very much the problem here, i.e. the goblins charge a lot of it on loans and finding a spare couple of thousand Galleons up front is going to be a bit tricky, especially if they might make difficulties. There are clearly many things which would need to be worked out first before I could commit to this.

I've always been a man who preferred to conduct this kind of business deal face to face rather than putting it in writing, if you know what I mean. Perhaps you could meet me in some suitable location? I know a number of Muggle establishments that are highly discreet and most suitable for a business discussion of this kind, just tell me when. (Although not Wednesday nights, when I have regular meetings with a young lady which - well, let's say they're unconnected with my commercial interests and leave it at that.)

Yours faithfully

George Weasley

"Think it'll work?" asked Harry hopefully.

"If he's thick enough," answered Ron. "Or unless he knows you by reputation as a dodgy trader of course, George."

"Shut up, Ronniekins!"

"Guilty conscience there, Harry ..."

George made an extremely rude gesture.

*****

Harry hadn't known whether to expect results from Bill or not, so he was pleasantly surprised to receive a summons to Shell Cottage the following Monday. Fleur opened the door to him and Ron and graciously allowed them to offer her their congratulations on the baby. "Bill and I are very 'appy. Of course, I knew zat it would not be long before we started our family. Zere was never any need for assistance, unlike some ..."

"Er, yes, never mind that now, darling," said Bill hastily, ushering Ron and Harry into the back room and shutting the door. "OK, lads. I've found out a few things, but I wouldn't treat them as guaranteed by Veritaserum."

Ron shrugged. "We'll take anything you've got." Harry nodded.

"Well, there's definitely funny stuff going on with Vault 419. Some of the people you asked about did make payments of 'administration fees', but the transactions are marked as frozen. From the notes on the files, it looks like they didn't supply all the necessary paperwork - they're marked with a rune that's code for 'vault owner's instructions require an accredited authorising signature to move money in or out'."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in excitement. "Whose signature?" they asked in unison.

"Haven't been able to find out yet," replied Bill, to their disappointment. "I can't be too obvious about this, you know! If they realise what I'm doing, they'll work out who I'm doing it for, and those records will disappear so fast you wouldn't believe it. You haven't exactly been their most loved wizards since that little jaunt with Griphook, and for some reason they seem even more annoyed than usual with Harry."

"Just a difference of opinion," said Harry hastily before Ron could ask for details. "Anything else?"

"Only that the vault was set up while the Ministry were still swearing blind that Voldemort wasn't back. Looks like someone realised they were full of it and that Fudge was bound to be on his way out soon, and planned their scheme well in advance."

"Well, that should narrow it down a bit," said Harry hopefully.

"Right, to anyone who read your Quibbler interview, which was most of the country," said Ron in pessimistic tones. "Oh, and anyone who had half a brain even before that."

Bill nodded. "Fair point. Well, at least you can cross most of the Ministry off the list, then ..."

*****

"You'd like to see the information we got from our readers?" Luna stared at Harry, her eyes even wider than usual. "Do you really think it would be right for The Quibbler to show that to important Ministry representatives?"

"Er - I'm not sure," said Harry uncomfortably. He didn't much like the idea of regarding himself as a Ministry hack. 'Important' was a bit of a stretch too, although wartime reputation and the post-war shortage of Aurors meant he and Ron were officially a lot more senior than their skills or length of service really warranted. "Perhaps if you just showed it to us as friends? We're not going to arrest the people who tried to get the gold, we just need to find out unofficially what happened when they did before we go any further with this."

"Oh, you mean you want to try it yourself with your own money and see what happens?" asked Luna brightly.

"Um ..." Harry exchanged startled glances with Ron.

"Yeah, basically," said Ron, with a resigned shrug. "Just show her the letter, mate."

GREETINGS TO YOU AND MAY I EXPRESS MY IMMENSE GRATITUDE FOR YOUR INTEREST IN MY OFFER.

I QUITE UNDERSTAND YOUR FINANCIAL CONCERNS BUT AM SURE YOU APPRECIATE THAT I NEED A RELIABLE BUSINESS PARTNER WHO HAS ENOUGH OF THE NECESSARY TO BRING THIS TRANSACTION TO A SUCCESSFUL CONCLUSION AND IF YOU CAN'T DO IT I WILL HAVE TO CONSIDER MAKING THE OFFER TO SOMEONE WHO CAN.

ALSO IT WOULD NOT BE CONVENIENT FOR ME TO TRAVEL TO YOUR COUNTRY AT THIS TIME AND NATURALLY THE ORIGINAL OWNER OF THE VAULT FORMER MINISTER FOR MAGIC CORNELIUS FUDGE CAN'T COME BACK TO THE COUNTRY TO DO IT THAT WOULD JUST BE SILLY. INDEED HE WOULD PREFER TO STAY WELL IN THE BACKGROUND THAT'S WHY HE APPOINTED ME AS HIS AGENT IN THE FIRST PLACE.

PERHAPS YOU COULD COME TO MEET ME INSTEAD AS I HAVE DISCOVERED MANY SMALL PLACES LEADING OFF THE MAGIBOURSE IN PARIS THAT WOULD BE IDEAL FOR THIS SORT OF THING. IT'S EASY TO GET HERE BY FLOO OR PORTKEY BUT APPARITION WOULD PROBABLY BE BEST AS THE MINISTRY DO NOT KEEP RECORDS OF THAT AND I WOULD PREFER TO MAINTAIN COMMERCIAL CONFIDENTIALITY IF YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN.

HOWEVER AS A TOKEN OF MY GOOD FAITH I ENCLOSE AN ORDER FOR TRANSFER OF TWENTY-TWO THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN GALLEONS EIGHT SICKLES AND FOURTEEN KNUTS FROM VAULT 419 INTO YOUR OWN VAULT AS PAYMENT FOR SERVICES RENDERED FOR THE MINISTRY. I WILL LEAVE IT TO YOU TO FILL IN THE DETAILS AS YOU THINK BEST ACCORDING TO THE NATURE OF YOUR BUSINESS. YOU WILL NEED TO PAY A RELEASE FEE OF 22 GALLEONS BECAUSE THE GOBLINS ALWAYS INSIST ON THIS AS PART OF THE CONDITIONS OF ACCESS TO THE VAULT. ONCE ACCESS IS GRANTED FORWARD THE MONEY TO US (THE INTERESTED PARTIES) AND YOU (YOU) ARE AUTHORISED TO RETAIN 20% FOR YOUR OWN TROUBLE AND USE UP TO 10% TO SMOOTH THE PATH IN GETTING IT TO ME BUT TRY NOT TO PAY MORE THAN YOU HAVE TO.

AS I MENTIONED IN MY PREVIOUS COMMUNICATION I SUGGEST THAT YOU CONTACT RORDRUK WHO HAS SPECIALISED KNOWLEDGE OF THE SITUATION AND WILL ENSURE THAT THIS IS DONE WITH THE MINIMUM OF PAPERWORK I HOPE I DON'T NEED TO SAY ANY MORE. PLEASE CONTACT ME WHEN THIS HAS BEEN CARRIED OUT AND WE CAN MAKE FURTHER ARRANGEMENTS.

YOURS FAITHFULLY

WARLOCK CLEMENT MALBRANQUE

"It does sound suspicious, doesn't it?" said Luna knowingly. "Of course, former Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge must be really desperate for money by now. The other day, Dad was talking to a hag who had been sacked from her babysitting job for the French Director of Commerce, and she told him that the French Ministry are conspiring with all the traders in the Magibourse to charge British people triple price for everything. To pay for the extra security they needed during our war, you know? So it's not surprising he needs to resort to things like this, is it?"

"Er, no, I suppose not," said Harry, who thought that Xenophilius's brain must have been scrambled by Wrackspurts at the time ... no, hang on, they were rubbish as well, weren't they? He lost track sometimes. "But the thing is, if we try it we might lull this Malbranque into a false sense of security. Get him to show himself. He's already made an offer of a meeting in France."

"That sounds sensible," agreed Luna. "All right, Harry, I'll get the records for you. Do you think he really will turn up? It could be a ruse to kidnap you, I suppose."

"We are Aurors," said Ron, who looked rather disgruntled. "Anyway, Harry faced off with Voldemort; I'm sure he can deal with one random Frenchman."

"And you'll be there to guard his back," said Luna, nodding. "Actually, I should think that the main problem will be to stop Malbranque Apparating away in fright as soon as he realises it's you two he's dealing with."

"Well, we'll have to surprise him, then," replied Ron, who sounded chuffed that Luna had included him in that vote of confidence.

*****

The readers of The Quibbler turned out to have followed all the steps that Malbranque, whoever he (or she) was, had suggested. The letters had enclosed transfer orders for various amounts, but they were otherwise essentially similar to the one sent to George, and payment had been blocked on the ones Bill was able to check. His report back to them was discouraging. "They're frozen just like the others you asked about, but these are a year or more older," he told them. "And they're all from looni - er, typical Quibbler readers, not Ministry types who should know what they're doing."

"That's not much help," said Ron, obviously disappointed.

Harry shrugged. "Only one thing to do then, isn't there?"

"What?"

"Try it ourselves."

"Harry, I haven't got 22 Galleons to throw down the drain either ..."

"I have. And for once, don't bother arguing about it! Let's see, we need both you and George to fill this in. Sign here, and if we get a move on you can get his signature and drop it off at Gringotts before the close of business."

Next morning, Ron reported that the goblin Rordruk had accepted the paperwork - and the money - with a knowing look, and filed them away in a casual manner that suggested he wasn't going to rush to release the funds any time soon. And then the afternoon brought an unexpected - but very welcome - visitor to the Auror offices.

"Hermione!" yelled Ron as soon as he saw her appear in the doorway. He leapt up to fold her in a close embrace that drew a wolf-whistle from Williamson, who was dictating a report to his quill in a nearby cubicle.

Harry couldn't help grinning. "I thought you were still at Hogwarts?" he asked as his friends broke apart.

"Well, it's Friday, and McGonagall was only doing a revision class, so she said I could start the weekend early," replied Hermione, looking quite pleased with herself for having proved that she no longer felt compelled to attend every lesson she possibly could. "A quid pro quo for that Inverness trip, really."

"Good old McGonagall. Decent of her," said Ron.

"Yes ..." Hermione paused to look critically at the mess in their cubicles, which hadn't been touched again after they found the first Malbranque letter. She stiffened at the sight of something on Ron's desk, and Harry groaned to himself when he saw what she was looking at. "Who's your fan, Ron?" she asked in what Harry thought of as her 'suspiciously indifferent' voice.

Ron spluttered incoherently as she held up the photo. "Her? I've no idea," he finally managed to say. "Never met her in my life!"

"Oh? She seems to know you." Hermione sounded increasingly hurt as she quoted, "'To my favourite hunky handsome hero, you can Incarcerate me any time ...'"

"And I plan to take her up on that just as soon as I get a night off." Harry jumped as Williamson stuck his head over the partition. "Wondered where I'd left that photo - I think I'd better stick it up in my cubicle so I don't lose it. She doesn't look like one I want to miss, does she?" He winked at Ron. "Grow a ponytail, Weasley. It's the long hair that does it for them, every time. Just ask your big brother."

"There's nothing wrong with short hair," said Hermione hotly as Williamson Summoned the photo and Ron sagged in relief.

"Oh well, whatever gets your broom off the ground. Can't you have a word with those two? If they ever cleared their desks, maybe we could all find our stuff. They might even start investigating their cases on time."

"You know, it wouldn't actually kill you to keep things tidy," said Hermione, who nevertheless sounded a lot happier than she had a short while before.

"We'll get right on to it as soon as you go," said Ron, nodding to Williamson in a manner that conveyed unspoken but fervent thanks for his help.

"Yeah, no problem, Hermione, it's about time we made a bit of an effort," added Harry, hastily looking for a change of subject. "Er, what was so interesting it was worth taking the Muggle Studies class to Inverness to see, anyway?" This point had actually puzzled him slightly. He had an uneasy feeling that he wasn't up to date with the latest developments in Muggle culture himself these days.

"We took them to this little café in the town ..."

"There something new in Muggle food?"

"No, Harry. We wanted to introduce them to the Internet," said Hermione, and Harry nodded as if he understood. He actually had no more than a vague recollection of Uncle Vernon boasting that his company had it because they were up to date with the latest trends - at least, until Aunt Petunia had looked up sharply and said it was supposed to be full of ... erm, spider porn or something like that.

"What's an Internet?" asked Ron, who was clearly too shaken at having dodged a curse to even bother trying to pretend he understood. "Is it something to do with fishing?"

"No, Ron," said Hermione patiently. "It's a communications and information network. You can have it in your home - Mum and Dad had just got it before they, um, went to Australia --" she reddened slightly "-- but there are places where the public can just walk in and use it too, like some cafés."

"What did the students make of it?" asked Harry in some trepidation. When even wizards like Mr Weasley, who were supposed to know what they were doing, regarded plugs as something exotic and mysterious ... well, he was just glad it had been Hermione and not him who had had to cope with letting a gaggle of Hogwarts students loose on something up-to-date.

"They did really well," answered Hermione proudly. "Of course, some of them dressed rather oddly and they made a few mistakes, but we just told everyone that they were role-playing gamers and they accepted that. But it would be a really good idea if the next generation of wizards understood what was happening now, rather than thirty years after it happens! The Internet is clearly going to be very important indeed. Newsgroups, e-mail, the WWW, that sort of thing."

Ron looked horrified. "The WWW? They know about the shop?"

"Not that WWW ... um, never mind, Ron, I'll explain it all when we're back at Grimmauld Place. You probably need to learn about it, they have crime there too! What have you two been up to that got lost on your untidy desks, anyway? And don't tell me it's top secret," she added with a slight smile.

"Oh, that ..." Harry and Ron looked around the office shiftily, realised there were hardly any Aurors there other than Williamson, and launched into an explanation of the letters from Malbranque. Hermione listened to their tale and examined the letters first with incredulity, then with smugness, and finally with a degree of exasperation.

"This is why you should be studying developments in Muggle culture, Ron!"

"Why?"

"Because then you'd have known about 419 scams! I mean, they didn't even pretend to have a different vault number!" Hermione, seeing their confusion, explained briefly what e-mails were, and that some were sent claiming to be from dodgy Nigerian politicians asking for help in releasing the proceeds from slush funds of dubious legality, resulting in loss of wealth for those dumb enough to fall for them - and more unpleasant fates for those who went looking for the scammers in person. With every sentence the chagrin of Ron and Harry grew more pronounced.

"Oh," said Ron after she'd finished. "Yeah, it does sound pretty much the same."

"It's exactly the same, isn't it?" said Harry, kicking himself for having gone on a wild pixie chase - er, wild goose chase, no wonder he hadn't thought of it if he'd even stopped using Muggle slang. "So who should we be looking for then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously the person doing it must be someone who has some Muggle knowledge -- Muggle-born or half-blood -- is of a criminal bent, and is prone to coming up with really stupid plans. But he wasn't stupid enough to send one to Harry, was he? Suggest anyone to you?"

Harry exchanged glances with Ron. "Oh. Right. Yeah. We'd better get straight on to that."

Hermione nodded. "Well, I'll see you at Grimmauld Place later then." She was muttering to herself as she walked out; it sounded a bit like "... have to do everything myself ..." but Harry was sure that was merely the peculiar acoustics of the Auror Office.

*****

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

93, Diagon Alley

London

Your reference: CF/M/11/98

Dear Sir,

I am in possession of the paperwork you requested signed by the goblin you requested, although not yet the money I requested. I trust that this will be satisfactory to you - although as it cost me 22 Galleons, it won't be all that satisfactory to me until such time as some of them come back the other way.

That being said, I fully agree with the preference you expressed for commercial confidentiality and feel it would be better for the papers to be delivered to you by hand. Unfortunately, I can't take time off from running my business to travel to France, as I dread to think what shape it would be in by the time I got back without me there to keep an eye on things, especially as my assistant Verity keeps asking pointed questions and would probably love to find out what we're up to.

However, as you know my little brother Ron is associated with me in this matter, and is willing to meet you in the Magibourse. And frankly, his commercial skills are such that I'm probably better off with him out of the shop for a bit. Please suggest a convenient time and I'll make sure he's there.

Yours faithfully

George Weasley

"Bugger off," said Ron furiously when he read this.

George grinned. "You want to lure him in, don't you? Would you rather I wrote, 'I'm sending my brother Ron -- oh yeah, by the way he's an Auror now'? That might make him a bit wary, don't you think? At least, once he'd stopped laughing himself hoarse at the idea of you as an Auror."

"Give it a rest, George," said Harry in a warning tone. Ron was still waiting for his first big arrest, and was a little sensitive on the point.

The swift reply from Malbranque definitely looked as if it was going to give him his chance.

GREETINGS TO YOU AGAIN AND MAY I EXPRESS MY THANKS FOR YOUR EFFORTS IN THIS MATTER.

NOW THAT THINGS ARE PROGRESSING SO SMOOTHLY I AM QUITE HAPPY TO TAKE DELIVERY OF THE PAPERWORK PERSONALLY AND I AM SURE THE MONEY WILL SOON BE FORTHCOMING UNLESS THE GOBLINS ARE BEING THEIR USUAL STICKY FINGERED LITTLE SELVES. LIKE YOURSELF I AM A MAN WITH MANY PRESSING BUSINESS CONCERNS AND I AM AFRAID THAT I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO MEET YOU PERSONALLY ON THIS OCCASION. HOWEVER I WILL SEND MY ENGLISH REPRESENTATIVE WHO IS FULLY AUTHORISED TO ACT FOR ME AND OF COURSE FOR FORMER MINISTER FOR MAGIC CORNELIUS FUDGE IN THIS MATTER.

PLEASE MEET HIM BY THE STAND OF HENRI OMBRE TOWARDS THE BACK OF THE MAGIBOURSE AT 3PM NEXT SATURDAY AND REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT APPARITION.

YOURS FAITHFULLY

WARLOCK CLEMENT MALBRANQUE

"His 'English representative'?" scoffed Ron. "Yeah, right. Unless he turns up with half a dozen mates, though, we've got him."

Harry nodded absently - an unpleasant thought had struck him. "Even if he does come alone, are we actually allowed to arrest someone over there and bring him back? Like Williamson said, the French Ministry don't like us much. It would be kidnapping, wouldn't it?"

Ron tapped the side of his nose again. "We keep it ..."

"... in the family?" Harry finished for him. He couldn't quite keep a note of disbelief out of his voice; he had to see this one.

*****

Harry wasn't sure whether he liked the Magibourse or not. It had its good points, but also its bad points. Generally, the French wizards and witches paid far less deference to him as the 'Chosen One'. Because of that, he was willing to forgive the place its bad points - chief among which was that the popular opinion of Britain made Fleur's views look positively effusive.

"Where's that French Aureur gone?" muttered Ron in an irritated voice. He was standing in an obscure corner of the Magibourse waiting for 'Malbranque' to arrive, and Harry could tell that he was quietly seething at the disdain he was receiving (not to mention the prices they'd been charged for souvenirs to take back for Ginny and Hermione).

"Over there." Harry pointed, and then remembered that as he was underneath the Invisibility Cloak, this wasn't much use. "Er, by the apothecary's stall, he's the one buying puffer fish spines. We shouldn't need him, anyway, although I bet he decides to stick his wand in and make this his arrest."

Ron snorted. "Not unless he wants us to casually mention to his boss that he had Bill smuggle over bicorn horn for him."

"What was that all about?"

Ron broke into a huge grin, which drew odd looks from passers-by. "Didn't he explain? They made it a restricted substance over here last year, because you need it for making Polyjuice. But it's also useful for ... um, other potions. That bloke's married to one of Fleur's cousins, and he needed ... well ... a bit of help keeping up, all right? Looks like he's buying more stuff for it now. Handy thing to know if you want to get his assistance on the quiet."

"Fair point." Harry was glad of the Cloak; it hid what he was sure would otherwise be a very noticeable blush. He was saved from the need to comment further by the appearance of the man they were waiting for, who was making his way through the crowds with an elaborately casual air while casting surreptitious glances around him every few yards. He couldn't have looked more shifty if he'd worn a badge saying 'Conman'. Ron's nose wrinkled, and at that point the man caught sight of him and waved as he approached.

"Blimey, mate, fancy meeting you 'ere, eh! Surprised to see me? No 'ard feelin's, I 'ope. Anyway, 'ave you got the papers?"

"Yes, have you got the money yet?" said Ron, who didn't look at all surprised to see Mundungus Fletcher there. Neither was Harry; Hermione's word-portrait of the man they were looking for had fitted Dung to a T. He'd have been more surprised if someone else had turned up to meet them.

"Ah, yeah, that." Mundungus Fletcher had the grace to look embarrassed. "Not ... as such. Er, I mean, not yet. That little sod Rordruk is playing games again, you know 'ow it is, you can't trust them goblins, can you? But give us a chance, even he can't hold it up too long with someone of your calibre on board now, eh? War 'ero an' all that. Surprised you went into business with old George actually, mate, but I suppose you'd 'ad enough runnin' arahnd chasin' Dark wizards. Don't blame you."

Ron grinned at him. "Actually, Dung, I was meaning to tell you. I've left WWW and gone back to the old line of work. I'm an Auror now."

It took a few seconds for this to sink in, and then Mundungus gulped convulsively. "Oh, you're effing kidding me ..." His hand went to his pocket.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry's quiet spell from under the Cloak blasted the wand away before Dung could do anything. He didn't expect him to put up much of a fight, but he definitely didn't want to risk him Disapparating away this time.

"'Ow did you ... oh." His face was a comical mixture of fear and resignation when Harry took off the Cloak. "Might have guessed." He brightened as an idea struck him. "You can't do anything with me 'ere, though, that'd be kidnapping! I'll shout for 'elp, there's bound to be one of them Frog Orers about ..."

"Is this the man you wanted to capture, mes amis?" Bill's relative by marriage appeared at Ron's shoulder, having presumably now secured all the puffer fish spines a man could reasonably use even when married to a part-Veela, and Mundungus's face fell. "Ah, Monsieur Fletcher, I see. What a delightful surprise." He didn't sound particularly surprised. "You should consider yourself under arrest by these gentlemen; I have expected to see this for some time, but you have never given us the reason before! Merci."

"Oh 'ell," said Mundungus unhappily.

*****

Their captive was even less happy when Harry and Ron took him by Portkey directly to a small interview room in the Ministry offices in London. "Now look 'ere, lads, I 'aven't done anything ..."

"Of course not," said Ron. "Obviously it was pure coincidence that he was there, Harry. Anyone can see that."

Harry nodded mock-seriously. "I suppose so. But he did sound like he knew all about it. Why was that, do you think?"

"Look, someone must 'ave set me up, I ... I 'eard them talking about it somewhere and, um, tried to pretend I knew what it was abaht and cut in on the deal ..."

"Oh well, that's all right, then," said Harry cheerfully. "Just tell us who they were and as soon as we catch them we'll let you go."

Mundungus swallowed. "Maybe ... maybe I'm not too sure. No. I reckon I must have been Imperiused, see, that's why I can't remember exactly who it is. Lot of Dark wizards abaht this last year, you can't tell what they might have done to you, can you?"

"Don't worry about that, Dung," said Ron. "We had lots of people saying they'd been under the Imperius Curse at the end of the war, and St Mungo's came up with a nice simple test to tell if they had or not. If that's the problem, mate, we'll just get you checked out and as soon as they give you the all-clear you can be on your way."

Mundungus swore under his breath. He was beginning to sweat profusely. "Look, you boys seem to think I'm some kind of criminal mastermind 'ere ..."

"We'd never think that, Dung," interrupted Ron.

"... well then, where would I get an idea like that from, I don't know nothing about that Internet thing anyway ..."

"Oh, there's an 'Internet' involved in this?" asked Harry innocently, turning to Ron. "I don't think we mentioned that, did we? What do you reckon it is?"

Ron gave an elaborate shrug. "Probably something to do with fishing. Dung seems to know all about it, though."

The prisoner was having trouble meeting their eyes. Finally, he croaked, "Look, I'm saying nothing, lads. I've got rights. I don't 'ave to, do I?"

"Of course not, Dung," said Harry. In his opinion that was something Mundungus should have thought of a lot earlier, especially as he surely had plenty of experience of being in this situation. "Still, in that case it's only fair to tell you we'd have to apply for a warrant to use Veritaserum."

"Veritaserum?" cried Mundungus with a note of panic. "They wouldn't use that for this, would they?"

"Well, you are claiming to be acting on behalf of former Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, and to have access to substantial Ministry funds."

"Dad said they need all the money they can get at the moment," added Ron. "Can't afford to turn down the chance to find out if you really have some."

"Of course, in that case there's no telling what else might come out that you've got your fingers into, but ..."

Mundungus slumped in his chair in resignation. "Oh all right, lads. What do you want to know?"

*****

On the whole, Harry approved of the small farmhouse Mundungus's ally was using as a base. It was quiet, picturesque, hidden from Muggle view by a small surrounding orchard, and even had long strings of garlic hanging over the doors, which added a touch of local colour.

"This should be fun," muttered Ron as they approached the rear of the building. "Do you think he'll put up a fight?"

"Might do, I suppose," replied Harry. "Still ... I've seen him fight, mate, he's not that good. He's not going to get away from three of us."

"So I heard."

Their more experienced French colleague was still perfectly willing to let Harry and Ron take the credit; he had contented himself with casting anti-Disapparition spells and then stationed himself out front to head off any possible escape that way. Harry was rather looking forward to this. He pointed his wand at the lock on the back door. "Alohomora!"

The door sprang open, and the man seated at the kitchen table reading the overseas edition of the Daily Prophet looked up in surprise, which quickly changed to fright when he saw who he was dealing with. "What do you want?" he asked in a creditable attempt at hauteur, although his voice shook.

"You say the words, Harry," said Ron, who with a flick of his wand Summoned the one that had been lying harmlessly on the table, no use at all to its owner. "Only fair."

"It'll be a pleasure." Harry couldn't keep a small smirk from his face, however hard he tried. "Former Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, I'm arresting you pursuant to a warrant duly issued by the Wizengamot on charges of corruption and the misuse of Ministry funds for personal gain. Would you like to say anything at this time?"

There was a small desperate hope in Fudge's expression. "This isn't Britain, you know, you don't have any right to do this without the agreement of the Ministère de Magie ..." His eyes flicked all around the room looking for some means of escape, resting longest in the shadows by the pantry.

Ron rolled his eyes in a deliberately world-weary manner. "They always say that, don't they?" He nodded to the opposite door, where the Aureur slipped into the kitchen and smiled at them.

"Monsieur Fletcher chantait comme un canari, oui?"

"Oui," said Harry, grinning. "You shouldn't have relied on him, Cornelius. Yes, he's got crooked contacts all over the place and knows a bit about Muggle scams - actually, for Dung it was almost a stroke of genius to try to make what you were doing look like one, so you only got the greedy and credulous offering to help - but it was all a bit obvious to anyone who examined it closely." Harry mentally added if their name was Hermione Granger out of fairness, but he saw no need to tell the former Minister for Magic that.

"Oh damn," said Fudge unhappily.

"Have you got the Portkey, Harry?"

"Somewhere here." Harry rummaged in his pocket for the empty Gauloises packet that would take them all back to London. As he did so, though, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Fudge cast another agonised glance at the pantry. "Hang on a moment, Ron. You never know, they might have got lucky with some of the money."

"Fair point. Better see if there are any suspicious-looking bags of gold in the house then."

"Wouldn't want to leave them lying about where anyone could walk off with them, would we?"

"Start by looking in the pantry, do you think?" Ron had evidently picked up on Fudge's unease too.

"Sounds good to -"

Whatever Harry had been planning to say, he lost track of it when the pantry door sprang open without warning, and a shadowy figure that had been hidden there raced for the back door. He might even have got away if it hadn't been for the strings of garlic hanging outside; as soon as he reached the exit they uncoiled and wrapped themselves around him like a lasso, and he gave one cry of absolute anguish and then fell to the floor.

Harry and Ron inspected their unexpected second captive with an feeling of disbelief.

"Is ... is that who I think it is?" asked Ron.

"Reckon so," said Harry. The face was considerably paler than when they'd seen it last, but it was still easily recognisable.

"And ... is he what I think he is?"

Harry nodded. He now understood the reason for the enchanted garlic, which was clearly causing their prisoner considerable discomfort.

"So ... Dung didn't know anything about him, did he?"

Harry shook his head. So did Cornelius Fudge, who was watching with an kind of vindictive relief. The figure on the floor glared back up at him through eyes that were sunken in a gaunt, waxy face, half-hidden by the mane of greying hair; but although defiant, he too seemed oddly relieved.

"Now what, mate?"

Harry pulled himself together. "We take him back too. This one's going to need one hell of an explanation."

*****

"No way," said George. "I mean, seriously, no way, Harry ... Scrimgeour was behind it? You have got to be pulling my wand about this."

"Well we aren't," said Harry, who was rather enjoying dropping this bombshell - especially as the back room at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was one of the few places he would be able to do so. "By the way, we've got something for you. Show him, Ron."

With a flourish, Ron took the piece of parchment he had concealed behind his back and tossed it on the table. George glanced at it and then did a double-take.

"Is that a genuine Gringotts vault transfer slip? Going into my account?"

"Of course." Ron was clearly enjoying himself too.

"I suppose I have to give the money back?"

"Nope." Ron grinned even more broadly at George's look of astonishment. "Want to hear the story?"

"I'm half ears!"

"Right ... Well, it turns out that Fudge wasn't quite as daft as we thought he was, but he was as honest as we thought he was. When he heard about what happened at the Triwizard, he saw the writing on the wall and set up a secret fund for the purpose of countering Death Eaters. Only of course it was set up so the Minister was the only person who could authorise payments, and funnily enough most of them seemed to go to payees who were Cornelius himself under another name ..."

"... the goblins insisted on a big kickback to keep it all hush-hush, mind you, and Fudge had to lean on them to keep them in line, so there was a lot of friction there that Xeno Lovegood got wind of," continued Harry. "Unfortunately for Fudge, when he finally got chucked out of office it all happened pretty quickly, so he didn't get the chance to hide anything before he left. When Scrimgeour found out he issued an instruction to Gringotts to allow any senior Auror to use the funds just in case, but before he could make up his mind whether to tell anyone about it he got the bite."

"The bite?"

"Voldemort had all sorts of allies, didn't he? Some of them were vampires," said Ron. He didn't sound as if he quite wanted to believe this part himself. "A gang of them attacked Scrimgeour one night - he fought them off, but they managed to get in a few nibbles. It didn't turn him completely, but it went a good part of the way. Like Dorcan D'Eath."

"Yeah. Except while it's cool to be a half-vampire if you're a rock star, if you're the Minister for Magic it's not so great - especially as the more vampire you are, the weaker your magic gets," said Harry, pleased he could still remember third-year Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"That's why he needed someone to bring him by Side-Along those times he came to The Burrow."

"Wait a minute ..." A great light seemed to be dawning on George. "Percy must have known about this! He should have told us!"

"Yeah, he knew," said Ron with a shrug. "He thought he had to keep it all hushed up for the sake of public confidence. You've no idea how relieved he was to finally be able to talk about Scrimgeour when he realised we knew. Anyway, us and Percy, stuff in the war, water under the bridge, remember?"

"I suppose so."

George still looked disgruntled at the idea that Percy might have been smart enough to have kept the information from them, and Harry hastened to get off this topic. "There was no way to keep it from Fudge either, of course, not when he was assisting Scrimgeour. He was pretty creeped out by it, so as soon as his help wasn't needed any more he bolted to France."

"Unfortunately, he couldn't collect on his lovely big slush fund since he wasn't Minister any more. But Rordruk, the goblin he'd been dealing with, offered to pay out on backdated invoices - for a modest backhander - provided Fudge made it look convincing. You know, have real people acting as payees for a change."

"Which left him with the problem of finding some without betraying himself. That was where Dung came in as a consultant - he met him one day in the Magibourse. We told you about that - it was the coincidence of the vault number that gave him the idea. It actually wasn't too bad a plan as Dung's plans go, and it might have worked, except that one of Rordruk's superiors smelt a rat and held up payments. They wanted to see the name of somebody from the Ministry on the invoices, not just random people."

"That was when he dropped it for a year?" asked George.

"Yeah ... he wasn't going to risk getting the Death Eaters on his case by trying it on with Ministry people. That's when Scrimgeour stuck his teeth in."

George eyed Harry suspiciously. "You still haven't explained that bit. Do I want to know?"

"Dunno. I'm not sure I did," said Harry. "When the Death Eaters bumped off Scrimgeour, they just dumped his body somewhere afterwards. But it turned out he'd taken enough bites in that attack, so a few nights later he rose as a full vampire."

"Bloody hell." George was clearly shocked; none of them had really expected what looked like a simple fraud case to end up quite the way it had. "What did he do?"

"Wasn't much he could do," said Ron. "Once you become a full vampire, you're not a wizard at all any more. There's usually rules on how to deal with them - ask Percy - but the Ministry had collapsed, no help there. And he kept having these urges to bite people - which was why he'd locked himself up in his office most of the time in the first place. If the Death Eaters had realised what had happened, they might even have tried to recruit him. I don't think he's very keen on being undead."

"Fudge was his only hope," added Harry. "He tracked him down to France and knocked on his door, and by the time Fudge realised he shouldn't have invited him in he was stuck with him. Didn't trust him, of course, hence all the garlic and stuff."

"But Scrimgeour knew all about the slush fund - Fudge said he was constantly on about how he'd cheated him or something, it was scary - so once money got tight for Brits in France after the end of the war, he got Dung to start sending letters out again to people with Ministry connections. Of course, Dung knew I'd gone to work here, and that WWW had been Ministry contractors, so he sent me one on the off-chance."

George grinned. "Those Shield Hats were one of the best deals we ever ..." He broke off and scowled. "I suppose Dung was keen to get me on board?"

"Yeah. Can't blame him for thinking you'd be willing to break the law, since he was the one who actually sold you illegal substances. So when he got a reply saying you were handling it, he thought he'd caught the Snitch. Wouldn't have helped, mind you, just being a contractor wasn't enough for Gringotts."

"But it worked, little bro!" George gestured to the transfer slip on the table in exasperation. "Look, that's a slip saying that I'm the richer by approximately twenty-two thousand lovely -" he looked more closely "- oi, wait a minute, eleven thousand Galleons?"

Ron smirked. "Yeah, well, the reason it worked was that I count as a senior enough Auror to be an authorised signatory under Scrimgeour's rules, so Gringotts didn't need to worry whether it was backdated or not. And the paperwork said we were equal partners, right? The other half's gone into my vault. Nice to have it full for once."

George looked at his brother as if he still couldn't quite fathom how much he'd changed. "And the Auror Office are OK with letting you keep it? Isn't it your job to solve cases and stuff?"

"You forgot Scrimgeour," Harry reminded him with a grin. "We told Kingsley, and when he came down after hitting the roof, he decided that the public really wouldn't take it well if they learnt that the last two legitimate Ministers were a crook and a Dark creature. So Fudge gets a Portkey back to France and a small pension, Scrimgeour gets a place in a vampire haven in Transylvania, and we don't make any unlikely payments to the Ministry that might draw attention and get Rita Skeeter and her ilk asking questions."

"Told me to call it commission and forget where it came from," said Ron. "He's going to use the rest for reconstruction work."

"So at least I get to keep half the money as long as I stay quiet about it? Sounds good to me. Oh ... bugger." George suddenly pointed his wand at the base of the door. "Accio!" There was a loud ow! from the other side as a familiar-looking pink string shot into his hand, and then the door was opened by a rather pained-looking Verity, who was rubbing her ear.

"Sorry, Mr Weasley," she said. "But you did forget to Imperturb it."

"What are you going to do?" asked Harry apprehensively. She'd clearly heard most of what they said.

Verity smiled brightly. "Oh, I completely agree that we should keep it quiet. Especially as Mr Weasley is going to share his windfall with his employees by distributing half of it among them. Don't you think that's nice of him?"

"He's a great bloke, is George," said Ron, who seemed to be risking pulled muscles trying not to laugh. "Remind me again, does he have any other employees now I've left?"

"Oh yeah, I'm Employer of the Year," said George, sounding thoroughly peevish. "Everyone wants a cut of my money! Thousands of Galleons! I had to work hard for those doing ..."

"... bugger all," said Ron.

George opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "Oh, all right." Then he brightened up and broke into a wicked grin. "You do know what this means, lads?"

"What?"

"Well, let's see, Ronniekins. Fudge has been involved in crooked activities for ages, he's been fighting a running battle with the goblins to get control of the gold, and Scrimgeour is a vampire."

"So?"

"So, it means that Luna was right all along, and Hermione was wrong. Which one of you is going to tell her?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, aghast. "Do we look that stupid?" asked Ron.

"Don't answer that," said Harry.