Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money off this in any way. That should do it for a disclaimer.
AN: Mwa Ha Ha Ha Ha… (Yep, that's the entirety of the author's note… ok, one other note, this hasn't been beta read, so I hope there aren't too many grammatical errors. Anyway, Cheers!)
Chapter 8: Games Of Chance
"Casinos and prostitutes have the same thing in common; they are both trying to screw you out of your money and send you home with a smile on your face."
— VP Pappy
Harry had his marching orders, or in this case sailing orders as he was to meet up with His Majesty's Submarine Upright in Liverpool in one week. The HMS Upright was due in the Mediterranean to help halt the flow of fuel and equipment to North Africa, and Harry was going to ride with them to just off the southern coast of France. Until then, Harry had some work to do securing his Horcrux as well as acquiring supplies the muggles wouldn't exactly know about or approve of; somehow Harry figured that the muggles wouldn't understand why he had acquired the pickled hand of a man who had been hung, also known as a "Hand of Glory." Harry loaded up on gillyweed, polyjuice and veritaserum, draught of living death and a few other assorted nasty illegal potions as well as the usual healing potions and kit that Harry would carry when going into a combat situation where injury was more. All together it was decidedly on the shady side of supplies to make/buy, but Harry wasn't really in the mood to care about puny things like the Ministry of Magic's take on "legality".
Then again, the Ministry of Magic also would have been more than a bit miffed at Harry's current actions. For at that moment Harry was deep in the bowels of Knockturn Alley, preparing his horcrux to fight in an underground and highly illegal "Monster-Book of Monsters" fighting ring.
"Ok, so you're ready for this right? The current champion looks bloody nasty." Harry asked his horcrux book while massaging the spine of the book, loosening it up for the fight to come. Across the dingy large wooden room shadows flickered as smoky torches threw shadows through the room as rows of smelly screaming thugs waved bags of galleons and screamed towards a ring of dirt in the middle where a large tome with teeth and googly-eyes was busy shredding a second smaller Monster-book of Monsters.
In reply, Harry's Book snapped its cover open in a blink of the eye, flipping from side to side on the dirty old wooden desk before landing on its stiff pages and then using the pages to dance around the table as if the corners of the pages were little feet. As the new guy, Harry had been assigned a dingy corner to prep his book for the upcoming fight. The night before had been spent dipping the book in some rather disgusting and dark potions designed for crossbreeding magical creatures, all with the idea that it was necessary for Harry's horcrux to be able to better protect itself while Harry was overseas gallivanting through Dark Wizard and Nazi infested territory.
Harry's horcrux, aka "The Book" or "Book" for short, pushed itself off with the strength of its pages to flip right side up and opened to a blank page before writing in reply. "Don't worry about me." The book replied, writing back to Harry as chicken scratch excitedly scribbling across the page.
Harry looked concerned and was about to say something in reply, but The Book continued before Harry could speak.
"Merlin Harry, grow a pair and stop mothering me. I swear, you're acting worse than Mrs. Weasley after we returned to the wizarding world from a summer with the Dursleys. I've got a plan and this shouldn't take more than a few moments. Now get me in there, it's my turn to fight." The Book scrawled back scathingly; writing "said scathingly" just after its sentence to Harry.
Harry huffed and scowled at his book as he picked up the book and pushed his way through the crowd to the announcer. "Fine then, be that way. See if I care." Harry mumbled, "It's not like it's my soul on the line or anything."
The book in Harry's hands squirmed and flipped its cover open to whack Harry in the chest, "Stop whining you big baby, I'm the one fighting. Let me enjoy my moment without you pissing on my parade." It quickly wrote before settling down in Harry's hands.
Harry moved towards the ring and the announcer, stepping over the wooden divide to the shielded off area as the triumphant champion was herded into the opposite corner.
The owner of the underground ring smiled at Harry, missing quite a few teeth and the rest distinctly yellowed, the man was ink stained with big dollops of black gore from deceased monster books of monsters staining his clothing.
"Well now boy, let's have the name of your book so I can tell the crowd who the latest victim… I mean competitor will be." The man cackled, purposefully stressing the word victim with an evil smirk.
Harry was undaunted by the taunt, even though the use of the term "boy" did put his teeth on edge. "Doesn't need a name, I just call him The Book."
"The Book?" The ring master seemed incredulous about the choice of titles before shaking his head. "It has no pizazz boy. No, it needs something more if anybody is going to even think about betting on that measly tome. Put your book down and I'll get the introductions ready while you get out of my ring."
With that, the owner and ringmaster turned his back on Harry as Harry set his book in the ring and backed up.
Casting a sonorous, the ring master put his wand to his throat, "In this corner" The man pointed to the large monster book of monsters that was busy licking the still dripping ink from its fangs "We have Morgana the Monsterous, the queen bitch of the pit!"
The ragged smelly crowd of thugs and scum cheered wildly and money started to change hands with bookies as slips of paper were received in receipt.
"And in the other corner, we have a new comer to the pit. Introducing, The BOOK OF DOOM!" The ring master dragged out the word "Doom" trying to ramp up the energy of the crowd and encourage the betting.
The crowd boo'd Harry's horcrux, but his tome just lay there unmoved by the audiences' reaction.
Harry just shook his head as he stepped out of the ring mumbling to himself, "Now you've done it, called him The Book of Doom and I'm sure he's going to take that for his name from now on."
The bell for the fight Ding'd twice, and the fight was on… that is if you could call it a fight.
The ring master stepped aside, and the reigning champion of the monster book of monsters fight pounced across the ring.
Only to meet a swirling maelstrom of paper as Harrys book opened its pages and turned into a torrential tornado of raging fury.
In short, paper cuts hurt…
The once cheering crowd went deathly silent, and several hardened criminals lost their lunch at the horror.
"The horror, the horror!" The ring master mumbled aghast, staring stunned and not even moving as a dismembered googley eye shot up from the fight and hit the ring master right in the forehead along with a splash of ink.
Grown men cried.
Bastards who would have stabbed their own mother for a knut gnashed their teeth and covered their eyes.
And Harry just shook his head and cringed while muttering, "Ah that's just not right."
With a final "Slurp" and a "Burp" Harry's now dubbed "BOOK OF DOOM" finished off its opponent and let out a mighty growl before shivering.
The sound of crunching bone and popping bindings was accompanied by Harry's horcrux suddenly spouting a row of eight googley eyes of its own, as spikey protrusions erupted from the spine of the book and back cover, suddenly turning into jointed little legs and a spikey tail as the magical crossbreeding potions kicked in and evolved the book.
Harry just shook his head again and stepped into the ring to pick up his now monstrous looking horcrux book, which let out another burp and a puff of shredded paper.
A brief shock shot from the book to Harry's hand as he picked up his tome and left the ring, the audience still silent as a plethora of information on care and breeding of magical creatures entered Harry's mind when he touched the horcrux; along with the distinct flavor of hippogriff manure that now seemed to fill Harry's mouth.
"I hope you're happy now." Harry glared at his book while sputtering at the disgusting flavor in his mouth. His BOOK OF DOOM turned all eight eyes to look up at Harry and growled in reply.
"Don't growl at me, you got your mobility, now it's back to the tent with you." Harry continued to grouse as he exited the ring, grabbed a bag of galleons from a bookie that was looking decidedly sick, and then disappeared away with a pop.
Harry appeared back in his tent behind the shrieking shack while continuing to chide his book, "I hope you're happy with yourself, you could have just stroked its cover from the beginning, there was no reason to get nasty."
The BOOK OF DOOM only looked smug, and burped up a bunch of pages of paper in reply.
"Fine, be that way. I'm off to fight Nazis. Be good while I'm gone." Harry stated while putting his book down on the table in his tent, grabbed his shrunken bags and put them in his pockets while waving his wand at his clothing until it changed into a nice three piece black suit.
"Pttttttttttttttt!" The book in return blew a raspberry in Harry's direction as a newly growing long origami page like tongue shot out from between the pages.
"Yeah yeah, just don't do anything stupid." Harry finished and then disappeared with a "pop."
The tent was silent for a moment as the book skittered on its little feet to look one way, then the other.
Confident that Harry was gone, a decidedly smirkish look spread across the now fanged maw of Harry's horcrux, before said BOOK OF DOOM skittered its way off the table and out the tent's opening… on its way up the hill towards Hogsmead and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Ten minutes till we reach target area double oh seven, Mr. Bond." A sailor stated, poking his head into the officer's cabin where Harry had been sitting out of the way so as not to get in the submarine crew's path.
"Thank you." Harry responded, taking a glass vial out of his pocket and holding it in his hand as he followed the young submariner out of the birth and down the cramped and short halls towards the ladder that led to the deck of the sub.
A ringing sound started, and a rumbling whoosh echoed through the sub as the lights of the submarine switched to a red color as the sub pumped water out of its ballast tanks and began to slowly rise.
Harry waited patiently, his thoughts on his next actions as the sub rose from the depths and finally settled out to bob on the surface of the ocean. Several submariners quickly tested the airlock, then opened it up and scurried up onto the deck and into watch positions.
Harry's head cleared the opening on the deck and with it he got his first glimpse of the city lights of the French city of Nice only a mile away and dangerously close to the German patrol boat paths guarding the coastline.
"Right this way Commander Bond. We have your wet suit and boat all ready for you." The submariner who had been guiding Harry turned away from Harry and began working on pulling gear out of a locked hatch on the outside of the submarine's tower.
A splash sounded behind the young man, forcing him to turn around with a startled, "What the hell?!" only to see that the deck of the submarine was empty except for himself.
The captain of the submarine poked his head up through the hole in the deck of the sub and snapped at the young seaman in a whispered voice, "Quiet lad! You want to let the bloody Nazi's know we are coming for a visit? Perhaps invite them over for tea?"
"But Sir," The young submariner tried to explain, "It's Commander Bond, He's gone, and without his sea gear."
"What the devil?" The captain turned, and looked around the darkened deck, only the light of the stars dimly illuminating the sea around him yet clearly showing that only the young sailor was onboard; and that the raft and wet suit were still next to the young man.
The captain shook his head, "Well it's not our concern anymore then. Button up and hurry down lad, we have to get underway before more patrols come through the area."
With that, the captain disappeared below deck, and then was soon followed by the thoroughly confused young submariner and the other men on watch.
The sub dived, and the sea calmed, leaving nary a trace that anything had ever happened.
Forty minutes later, a pair of jade green eyes and a black mop of hair surfaced just off the coast of Nice where a low dock met the water. The eyes looked left, and right, just barely floating above the surface of the water with Harry's nose still submerged as he tread in place just off shore. Then with a smirk, Harry pulled himself out of the water, a pair of gills on his neck just peeking out of the top of his white collar and black bowtie as Harry calmly climbed up a ladder onto the pier and waved his hand over himself.
Now suddenly dry and immaculate, gills vanished, Harry adjusted the bow tie of his tuxedo and smirked as he put his hands in his pockets and deposited the little glass vile of gillyweed back where it had started. Then with a spring in his step, and a whistled tune, Harry was off into the city.
The streets of Nice were surprisingly well lit and lively given the wartime environment. Gas lamps lit the cobbled streets that formed a walkway above the sea wall and along the beach. Windows glowed with internal lights as the inhabitants of the city had no fear of bombing or attack as Germany's Luftwaffe ruled the sky of southern France and was well out of range of most allied bombers of the time. The Mediterranean was mostly controlled by the joint fleets of the Italians and the Germans, so invasion by sea wasn't much of a concern. Though France was ruled by the Nazi's, here on the southern coast of France the beach front city was more a place for rest and relaxation for German troops rather than a warzone of fear and intimidation by the ruling power.
Harry smiled and nodded at a patrol of four German soldiers that marched by, and followed behind slowly as the patrol made its way through the streets and deeper into the city.
'Hmmm, where to start, where to start?' Harry thought to himself as he wandered into the city.
Thoughts about trying to find shelter for the night flitted through his mind, but the excitement of being in enemy territory had Harry's adrenalin flowing and he was more interested in seeing the sites and figuring out if he couldn't get in a little fun or trouble before he retired for the night.
Not more than three blocks into the city, Harry's smile turned into a smirk as the Potter luck rewarded him.
The street Harry had been following opened up into a small plaza or square of some sort; an ornate fountain was decked with numerous Nazi swastika flags, all of it prominently displayed in the middle of the square. Across the square, the open doors and windows of a large majestic and well-lit building released the sounds of fun and frivolity just as a grey and black long convertible touring car pulled up; the German cross displayed on the car's passenger doors while twin little Nazi flags waved from the front where they were set above the headlamps. Several laughing officers with the deaths-head of SS troopers on their hats and double lightning bolt "ss" pins on their collars emerged from the car and marched up the white marble steps between two now saluting German guards. The Nazi officers disappeared into the building where the party sounds were originating as the music of a big band wafted to Harry on the still night air. The touring car's chauffer, iron pot helmet in place, drove away and left a nice open path between Harry and the front door.
Adjusting his bowtie, and with a literal sparkle in his eye. Harry put on his biggest smile and walked resolutely towards the party.
"Halt! Zis is a private party for officers and invited guests only." One of the guards stated in German while giving Harry a baleful glare.
"Yah. Vey must see your papers." The second one added harshly, stepping in Harry's way and into Harry's personal space.
Harry's smile only got larger and his eyes twinkled even more as he reached into his pocket and then pulled out nothing but an empty hand which he waved at the two guards.
A burst of techno-colored lights hit both guards right in the face with a combined confundus and cheering charm.
Both guards blinked, and then smiled at Harry with big goofy smiles. The smiles looked decidedly off given the Nazi regalia of black iron helmets, guns, tall leather jackboots and tight grey uniforms with high black leather collars.
"You don't have to see my papers." Harry stated in German to the two guards who immediately began nodding.
"Hanz, I don't zhink we need to see his papers, he doesn't look like he could hurtz a fly." One guard said to the other.
"Yah, you're right Hansel, he looks innocent enough." The other responded
Harry didn't know whether to be insulted or laugh.
Both guards continued to nod along in agreement with the other. One would stop nodding, and then the other would stop, then one would start cheerfully nodding again which started the second guard nodding along like two Nazi uniformed bobble-head dolls.
Harry couldn't help it as a chuckle escaped his lips, both soldiers were apparently higher than a kite due to the power of Harry's confundus charm.
And that's when an evil idea popped into Harry's head, and he knew that Sirius and the rest of the marauders would never forgive him if he didn't take this opportunity to have a little fun and sow a little mischief.
Harry's smile became a wicked grin as he buffed the lapel of his tuxedo with the knuckles of his hand and looked down, afraid that if he looked up at the guards he would lose all control over the laughter that was threatening to spill out of him.
"You know," Harry started, "You don't really look like you two want to be a Nazis, I think you would much rather run away and join the circus or some sort of all male review." Harry suggested.
Both guards stopped their nodding at Harry and then turned to stare wide eyed at each other. One of the guard's jaws dropped open, before he blinked and then smiled at the other guard.
"Yah, you know vhat? I always did think my uniform needed more leather, come on Hansel lets go see if zey others want to start up a kick line." With that, the first guard put his fist on his hip and offered his elbow to the other guard.
The other guard nodded vigorously, "Yah, zhat ust a great idea Hansel. I've always thought zat you had zey most beautiful eyes and tightest rear end." With that, the second guard daintily took the elbow of the first, and Harry shook his head as the two Nazi guards goose stepped away arm in arm while staring deeply into each other's eyes.
Harry laughed, "Repressed much? Oh well, they should be happier now." With a shrug, and his eyes still twinkling, Harry turned and made his way into the party.
It was a casino.
Ok, so the interior was a casino, a bar, a dance hall and lounge all in one, and it was full of Nazi soldiers; well Nazi soldiers and attractive women. A few men in suits with Nazi arm bands, the collaborators who helped to assure that the continuation of German rule, also circulated in the crowd. For the most part however it was full of enemy troops, and Harry was the only man in the establishment without some sort of paraphernalia that connected him to the ruling Nazi military or quisling government.
Harry shrugged to himself, smiled and nodded to an attractive brunette selling cigarettes, and then moved towards the bar for a drink.
"Vodka martini, shaken, not stirred." Harry ordered in French to the man behind the bar. The bartender looked at Harry strangely, but complied and served Harry his drink.
Harry nodded his thanks to the man and then turned his back to the bar and leaned against it while he looked over the room.
The walls were all a mix of marble and dark wood, and the areas where tapestries had once hung were now bedecked with large red, black, and white banners baring the Third Reich's swastika. A large painting of the Fuehrer, Adolf Hitler, held a place of prominence on one wall of the lounge. All together, It didn't do much to the décor in Harry's opinion, but then again, he wasn't the decorator type nor of the belief in German innate superiority.
Through a hallway to Harry's right he could see the dance floor, the band stand showing a full big band of horns, woodwinds and stringed instruments being played while men and women waltzed around the dance floor.
To Harry's left was the main entry way to the building where Harry had entered, a large grand staircase led to an upper floor, the marbled stairs carpeted with a thick red carpet that was held in place by gold clips that were bolted into the marble.
And in front of Harry was the gambling establishment. Harry smirked and pushed off from the counter to saunter into the gambling room while sipping his drink.
Harry paused in the doorway.
The normal tables of craps and roulette dotted the room in front of him and were all quite busy. A few tables of card games were also present, but almost all of them were full. Almost all of them, except for one table that had a gorgeous looking blonde bombshell in a tight figure hugging white dress sitting next to a straight backed and rather intimidating man with a shiny bald head, monocle, and a flowing almost robe like German officer's uniform. It was the combination of the allure that Harry felt pulling him towards the table yet the fact that not a single muggle soldier seemed to be able to see the girl that told Harry that this wasn't your normal Nazi soldier on leave with his girlfriend.
Well, that and the fact that the German soldier's red arm band had the symbol for the Deathly Hollows emblazoned on it; the black triangle, circle and bisected by a line or wand. It was Grindelwald's symbol, and when Harry put two and two together, he came away with four and figured the table was under a muggle repelling ward.
Add to that the fact that the dark wizard had an incredibly dark scowl on his face, the man's right hand seemed to be claiming ownership of the blonde's wrist next to him, and it looked like the wizard didn't want to be disturbed… all of which of course ensured that Harry just had to go over and say "Hi!"
Harry sat down at the table without even looking at the dark wizard or the blonde, both who startled at the sudden visitor to their table.
"I would like to put this much money into chips please." Harry addressed the dealer in perfect German before turning to face the blonde and wink as he took five large stacks of German Deutschmarks with Hitler's face on them and slapped them on the table. The money constituted the entirety of the money provided to Harry to run his spy operations in area 007, and Harry hadn't quite figured out the reality of inflation between 1940's and 1990's nor foreign currencies when taking into account how much money he had just laid on the table.
The blonde blushed, and the dark wizard actually growled, while the dealer stammered.
"S-s-Sir, this is one hundred thousand Deutschmarks, are you sure you want to exchange this much?"
Harry just turned and smiled at the dealer, "Really now? That much? Eh, no worries, it's not like its real money now is it, what with the funny faces of muggles on them and being made from paper. No gold coins or galleons here, isn't that right my dear?" Harry turned and addressed his last statement to the blonde who was emitting the allure that bounced harmlessly off his oclumency shields.
The blonde was silent but blushed a deeper shade of scarlet as her deep blue eyes looked back at Harry. Any attempt for her to respond was stifled by the rapidly purpling dark wizard gripping her wrist tightly as a vein began to throb in the man's forehead.
Harry smiled at the man and silently ramped up the speed of the sparkling in his eyes controlled by the charm he had stolen from Dumbledore. Merlin knew how annoying that damn eye twinkle was, and it seemed to work in this case as Harry was now able to count the raising tempo in the man's heartbeat as the dark wizard's forehead vein throbbed.
Acting totally oblivious, Harry turned to the dealer while clapping his hands together and rubbing them greedily as the entire amount of his money provided for the mission, "funny money" as he thought of it, was exchanged for chips.
"So, what game are we playing?" Harry switched into French with a perfect Parisian accent, doing so just to keep the others at his table off guard, and causing a perfectly manicured eyebrow to lift on the Veela who sat down the table from Harry.
"Baccaratte Sir." The dealer answered as he dealt out the cards.
As soon as the dealer stated the game, the rules for baccaratte flooded through Harry's mind thanks to a book of card games and Hermoine's most eccentric choices in reading; said book eventually eaten by Harry's horcrux and subsequently forcefully transferred to Harry's mind.
Harry grimaced and smacked his lips as unfortunately the knowledge of how to play the game was accompanied by the taste of stale alcohol, cigar smoke, and his tongue felt like the dirty fuzz on the cheap upholstery that was used in some off-strip Las Vegas casino.
Harry smacked his lips and took a long sip from his vodka martini to kill the taste in his mouth.
"We wish to be left alone." The dark wizard growled in German, though the veela looked like she would like anything other than to be left alone with the man.
Harry merely smirked over the lip of his drink and responded in the same language, "Well then you shouldn't just ward your table against muggles. Besides, everything is full and I don't feel like moving." Harry finished with a wink at the blonde again, which caused said unnamed blonde to giggle while the dark wizard growled again.
Harry ignored the wizard, laid down his chips, looked at his cards and won the hand after the dealer played.
By this point the dark wizard was nearly apocalyptic with rage.
"Do you know who I am?" The dark wizard struggled not to shout at Harry.
"Nope," Harry responded flippantly.
"I am Victor Von Doomcough, left hand to Grindelwald himself." The wizard pompously announced while puffing up his chest.
Harry couldn't help it as he was drinking his martini at the time, but the wizard's name caused Harry to snort his martini out of his nose and over the irate wizard in front of him.
"Cough, Cough, I'm sorry, did you say your name was Dummkopf?" Harry sputtered in between choking on the burning sensation from the vodka coming up the wrong way. In the back of his head, Harry was thinking that wizards always had the most interesting names, especially when dummkopf was pronounced doomcough and basically meant "idiot" in German.
"No," the man gritted through his teeth, "Doomcough."
Harry smirked over the lip of his martini glass as he paused before taking a sip, "And the left hand of Grindewald himself huh?" Harry again responded in German.
The dark wizard seemed to puff himself up pretentiously, as if the mention of Grindelwald should scare Harry into compliance.
"Yes, the left hand." The German growled menacingly.
Harry's smile only grew larger, "Interesting, did you know that in some cultures the left hand is used solely for wiping ones rear end after defecating? Interesting tidbit that, don't you think."
The blonde couldn't help it and released a giggle, while the Doomcough blinked and flushed pale before purpling up again at the fact that Harry had basically inferred that he was Grindelwald's arse wipe.
"Anyway, my mistake on the pronunciation of your name Herr Doomcough." Harry smiled back at the man, and then the silent blonde who Harry could see was trying not to laugh. "Sorry, my mistake."
Doomcough could only growl, "Well see that it doesn't happen again Mr…. you didn't give us your name."
Harry laid down about a fourth of his chips on the table while also noticing the hint of greed in the other man's eyes. "Bond. Harry James Bond. Shall we play?"
Herr Doomcough only sneered, and didn't introduce the blonde.
"Yes, let's play Mr. Bond. I will be the bank first since you are playing at my table. Chemin de Fer Baccarat rules Mr. Bond. With that, Von Doomcough signaled for the dealer to start again."
Harry ignored his cards, barely looking at them and instead smiled and stared right back at the glaring dark wizard, all the while mentally varying the pattern of twinkling in his eyes to cause the most distraction and annoyance.
First the eyes twinkled left to right, as if a serious of Christmas lights dancing down a strand.
Harry won the first hand, the dealer dealt again and still Harry barely looked at his cards.
Now Harry's eyes were doing some sort of discordant strobe effect, randomly twinkling that looked like the stars in the sky or some off-tempo dance club.
The German wizard got angrier as Harry won again without seeming to care about the cards in his hand.
The Blonde started to fight to keep the smile off her face as Harry winked at her, only for his eyes to start twinkling in Morse code to send several sexually charged messages about what Harry could do with his parceltongue.
The blonde didn't know why Harry was smiling at her, but something in the look made her blush and look away.
The German growled, and Harry's attention turned towards him, Harry's eyes now spelling out every German curse word that Harry knew through the twinkling Morse code in his eyes.
Unfortunately, this german wizard actually knew morse code…
"How Dare You!" Herr Doomcough thundered while jumping back from his seat and sending the chair clattering to the floor behind him.
"What?" Harry asked innocently, while simultaneously his eyes twinkled out in a series of dots and dashes to Von Doomcough, "Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries."
"I will have your head Mr. Bond!" The dark wizard started to growl while reaching for his wand, only to be interrupted as a sergeant wearing SS regalia, with a pin that had the deathly hollows on it clasped at his throat, rushed up to the table and grabbed Von Doomcough by the arm and rapidly started to whisper in the dark wizard's ear.
Von Doomcough's face paled dramatically, and he turned and yelled at the sergeant, "They are doing What!?"
The sergeant looked distressed and worried, and leaned forward to whisper so that only Doomcough could hear again.
"A Conga Line!" Doomcough shouted in anger while glaring at the sergeant. Doomcough had yelled loud enough that his voice briefly penetrated the temporary anti-muggle ward and several muggle officers looked at Doomcough before going back to their cards.
"Yes Sir, A conga line. Unfortunately while wearing only banana hammock bikini briefs, with swastika's on them, and their jackboots, Sir." The sergeant looked decidedly uncomfortable with what he had seen and what he was now having to report.
"AAAAAAGH!" Von Doomcough gave out a roar of rage and stormed away from the table, the sergeant trailing along behind.
Harry blinked, and then smiled even more as he watched Von Doomcough rush out of the room.
"Um, you win again Mr. Bond." The dealer stammered, pushing more chips over to Harry who merely shrugged and gathered them up before turning to the blonde.
"So now that we are alone my dear, what's a Veela like you doing with a waste of magic like von Doomcough the Left Hand of Grindelwald?" Harry packed as much insinuation as he could into the words doomcough and left hand, and he was rewarded by a musical laugh and smile from the blonde who rubbed her wrist where the dark wizard had been grabbing.
"Is that your idea of a pickup line Mr. Bond?" The Veela questioned with a slight smirk that just seemed to make her look even more gorgeous.
"That depends," Harry stated quietly as he leaned forward across the table towards the blonde, forcing her to lean forward so she could hear him better, "Is it working?" Harry's last part of the statement was made with a matching smirk to her own as his head was now only a few feet away from hers, the twinkling in his eyes gone, leaving her baby blue eyes to look deep into Harry's deep green orbs.
The blonde blushed and looked away from Harry's intense look.
"Now now, none of that," Harry reached out a hand and carefully rested it on the blonde's wrist, sending a pulse of magic through his fingers and into the red handprints on her arm and healing them in an instant.
The veela shivered at the tingle of magic that shot up her arm and startled to looked up into Harry's eyes as the marks on her flesh instantly healed due to his wandless magic.
"Let us start again, I'm Harry, and what is your name mademoiselle?" Harry stated kindly in French with a perfect Lyon's accent , a warm smile on his lips.
"Dominique, Dominique Delacour." The blonde now named veela stated softly.
Harry blinked, as it suddenly went through his head that this veela was possibly related to the Fleur and Gabriella Delacour of his original timeline. That conclusion made more sense since he had heard Fleur once talking to her then boyfriend Bill Weasley about possible children's names and her wish to name a daughter after her grandmother.
Harry's momentary shock passed with that blink of the eye, and he favored Dominique with a handsome smile, "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Harry pulled her hand towards him, then looking up into her eyes as he bowed his head, he lightly kissed the back her hand.
Dominique blushed again and looked away, but did not pull her hand out of Harry's light grasp.
The dealer at the table realized that the duo were not going to be playing any more baccarat, so politely excused himself from the table while offering to cash Mr. Bond's chips for him.
Harry nodded, not caring one way or the other about the money at the moment.
"Again I ask, why are you with stuck with a man like Doomcough, he obviously mistreats you, and excuse me, but you are far too pretty to be with him." Harry looked to Dominique for an answer.
Dominique looked away silently, but when she turned back to look at Harry, he saw tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"He has my sisters, and my cousins. He controls their fate, so I must do what he says." She seemed to be holding back the tears only just.
Harry frowned, and he sat back and quickly looked around, just as the Dealer returned with several bundles of money for Harry.
Harry just pocketed the money, the large bundles of deutschmarks disappearing into a pocket that was clearly too small to fit the large bundle of bills. With that, he stood and gently tugged Dominique to her feet with him.
"Where can we go so that we can talk in private?" He questioned while pulling a handkerchief from his inner breast pocket of his tuxedo; now hyper alert as he lost the cavalier attitude and switched into a more "Harry the hero" mentality.
"I have a room upstairs," Dominique mentioned while dabbing at her eyes with the offered handkerchief.
Harry offered her his elbow and the two left the casino and headed back to the main hallway, ascended the stairs and walked down the long hallway on the upper floor until they reached a large sturdy looking wooden door.
Harry didn't wait for her to unlock the door, rather tapped the handle with his finger which flashed as a silent alohamora unlocked it at his touch.
Shepherding Dominique into the room, Harry moved through the room quickly checking to make sure they were alone, he even opened the large bay window and looked out the back onto the balcony that led to a garden; the garden was patrolled by soldiers, some of them with dogs patrolling alongside.
A flick of his wrist saw his wand come out of his wrist holster where he quickly flicked it at the doors, walls, ceiling and floor to make sure they were secure and that he wouldn't be overheard. Then he turned around, only to find Dominique standing right behind him.
Sheathing his wand, Harry rested his hand on her shoulder, "What do you mean Doomcough has your sisters and cousins?" He spoke to her in French.
Dominique started to tear up again, but a squeeze on the shoulder from Harry's hand seemed to strengthen her, so with a big intake of breath and steeling herself, she answered as she reached up and took his hand.
Dominique guided Harry towards the bed and sat down, pulling Harry to sit beside her.
"Doomcough runs Grindelwald's Gestapo in France, which in turn controls Beaubattons School. Now whereas the boys have all been forced to join Grindelwald's army,mMy sisters and cousins all go there." She choked up briefly, but a squeeze from Harry's hand and a caring look as he gazed into her eyes helped her continue her tale. "Though they are young, they are all Veela… I fear if I do not do what Doomcough says..." At this she broke off, choking back tears as she insinuated just how foul Doomcough and his men were to possibly think of violating her teenaged sisters.
Harry pulled Dominique into a hug, stroking her hair and rubbed her shoulders as she cried silently, giving her his strength.
Harry hated to see girls cry, he never was very good with how to deal with it. Whether it was Hermione crying in the bathroom, or Cho Chang crying when he tried to kiss her, nothing in his experience really taught him how to solve the situation. Well, killing the troll had helped for Hermione's situation. And it was with that though that led Harry to know what he had to do. There was one thing that Harry was good at, and that was being a hero.
"There there, no need to cry." Harry stated, pushing Dominique back until he could look at her face and he used his handkerchief to dry her eyes.
Dominique's eyes dried quickly, and due to her veela magic no puffiness or redness was left behind; even her makeup looked perfect.
"I'll tell you a secret, I'm here to fight Grindelwald. I'm here with British intelligence, and I can save your sisters, cousins and all the rest of the students at Beubattons."
Dominique blinked, as the resoluteness of Harry's statement hit her.
"Do you mean it? You can save my family?" She questioned, bright blue eyes wide open and looking back at Harry.
Harry nodded, his sincerity and resolve clearly displayed on his face and in his eyes.
"Absolutely, I won't fail you." He answered, his honesty clearly understood.
"Oh Mr. Bond!" Dominique half moaned, half cried in delight as she tackled Harry backwards onto the bed and began to kiss him passionately about his face in joy.
The kisses started on his cheeks, but quickly went to his lips.
Harry startled, but then quickly got into the kiss that seemed to only grow in passion.
With a flick of his wrist the lights turned off in the room as he thought to himself, "This sure beats the last time I kissed a crying girl."
After that, the only sounds coming from the room were the moans and screams of passion.
Three hours later, Doomcough returned to the facility and marched straight for the door to Dominique's apartment where he attempted to open the door, only to find it locked.
"Dominique! Open this door! I know he's in there! Open this door this instant!" The Dark Wizard prefaced each word with a blow of his hand against the door, making it rattle.
"I'm going to kill that Mr. Bond and You with him if you don't open this door immediately!" Doomcough's wand slipped from his holster hidden up his sleeve, and he pointed it at the door, ready to blast it open, only for the door to open on its own.
Dominique poked her head out the door while wearing a robe, her hair slightly tousled but looking beautiful in that "I don't care" type of look that models spent hours trying to perfect, but which Dominique gained naturally.
"Herr Doomcough, what is the matter?" She innocently asked, blinking her bright blue eyes at him in a fair impression of a cute puppy.
Doomcough didn't answer, instead he forced his way past her and into the room, only to see that it was empty.
Going to the closet, he threw it open, only to see Dominique's prodigious collection of clothing and no Mr. Bond. The bathroom ensuite was also similarly empty.
Moving back into the room, Doomcough noticed the early morning breeze off the ocean was ruffling the open window that led to the balcony.
Pushing through the curtains and out onto the balcony, Doomcough looked around, only to see that the only people in sight were the guards that still patrolled the garden below with their dogs.
Growling in defeat, Victor Von Doomcough glared at Dominique and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him on his way out.
Behind him, he didn't notice the new piece of jewelry that Dominique sported. A tiny charm bracelet on her wrist that sported a little golden snitch. A snitch that was inscribed in tiny French words that spelled out, "When it is safe, say my name." A portkey to freedom.
Dominique smiled as she rested a hand on her lips that Mr. Bond had kissed on his quick flight out the window. In the distance, highlighted by the moon behind him, Harry waved from his position on his broom before turning and darting off into the night, on his way towards Beaubattons.
In her window, Dominique sighed and leaned against the balcony's threshold. "Oh Mr. Bond." She moaned.
Harry was on his broom, flying full speed towards Cannes. He had a school of impressionable highschool aged girls to rescue.
AN: And there you have it, hope you enjoyed it. Like most authors state, I've been busy. Working hard but tired of traveling so much for work, I'm looking for some new opportunities and that takes up most of my free time. Anyway, I wish you all the best and hope you are still enjoying the story. Cheers!