A Christmas to Remember (Part One)

A journey that should only have taken a number of days had stretched out to a number of weeks, the meeting she'd shared with Hepzibah Smith having given Cassiopeia the need to investigate the revelations made to her.

Unknowingly, she had stumbled across information that would have proven to be useful during her very first return to Britain.

Hepzibah had been right. Cassiopeia had been impressed by the cup, but more so by the locket that had sent her in search of just how it had come into the obese woman's possession.

It had taken no coercion on her part for Hepzibah to reveal where she had purchased it from but extracting information from Borgin or Burke had been no easy feat.

Both men were as secretive and slippery as they come and encouraging either of them to part with their knowledge had taken careful planning indeed.

Cassiopeia knew that her efforts should remain on discovering who The Serpent was, but she no longer had a trail to follow. The locket that had once belonged to Slytherin, however, had both a trail, and her need to bring the story of it full circle.

Arcturus mentioned that Gaunt had spoken of it, that he believed his sister had taken it, and Cassiopeia now knew the truth of the matter in its entirety. Although there was nothing to be gained now from the knowledge, she felt better for pursuing it, and now at the very least had utter belief in the notion that The Serpent had not been sired by a Gaunt.

"I do hope you bring welcome tidings," Gellert greeted her as she entered his study. "It has been several weeks since I sent you on your task. I wouldn't have thought it should have taken so long."

"It didn't," Cassiopeia confirmed, taking a seat by the desk, "but what I found myself exploring was relevant to my original intention of being there."

"How so?" Gellert asked, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Have you discovered who this Serpent is?"

"No, but I can assure you for certain that he is not related to the Gaunts."

Gellert released a laboured sigh.

"If anything, Cass, that only makes the man more of a mystery, but I suppose I will hear what you have to say on what you evidently spent much of your time on."

"Well, I began by checking the register, and there was no Gordon Smith registered as a practitioner of the Mind Arts."

"Not an unexpected outcome," Gellert pointed out.

"No, but the meeting with Hepzibah yielded something very unexpected."

Gellert frowned thoughtfully and gestured for her to continue.

"Do you remember what Arcturus reported when he visited Gaunt?"

"Your brother?"

Cassiopeia nodded.

"He said that Gaunt was rambling on about a missing locket and waving the family ring around as though it meant something."

"Ah, Slytherin's locket, if my mind serves me correctly."

"Exactly," Cassiopeia confirmed. "Well, he said that he believed his sister had taken when she had fled the house, and he was right."

Gellert huffed irritably.

"I fail to see what this has to do with The Serpent."

"I will get to that," Cassiopeia said dismissively. "What is important here is that Gaunt was right. His sister did flee and took the locket with her, but she didn't go alone."

"She didn't?"

Cassiopeia shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips.

"She ran away with a muggle, and they had a child together."

"The Serpent?"

"No, The Serpent is older than the boy she birthed. He is at Hogwarts, but it proves definitively that The Serpent is not related to the Gaunts."

"I still fail to see the relevance," Gellert sighed. "What do I care about this boy at Hogwarts?"

"He is not important, but his bloodline is," Cassiopeia explained. "The Serpent may not be related to the Gaunts as directly as we thought, but there must be a connection. There must be a family he is related to that has crossed the Slytherin line in some way. If we find that connection, we find The Serpent."

"What if there is no such link?" Gellert questioned.

"Then The Serpent is much more of a mystery than we imagined."

Gellert shook his head in frustration.

"I would rather you did not waste your time on this, but I know that you will regardless of my wishes. Cassie, he has not interfered in our affairs for months. If he does show himself once more where he is not wanted, then I will deal with him. I will not allow a single man to avert my attention from the plans we have already set in motion."

Cassiopeia was not happy, but she would not argue with Gellert.

"It was just a thought."

"And one that would have merit if he was a continuous presence. For all we know, he may have gotten himself killed already. The lifespan of a Hit-Wizard is not a long one," he pointed out. "We will deal with him when necessary. I have no interest in his history, or anything he does, so long as he steers clear of our work. Okay?"

Cassiopeia nodded.

"Fine," she agreed, "but I do not think we have seen the last of him. He will come back, Gellert, and I would rather that we were ready for him."

Grindelwald chuckled darkly as he approached and cupped her cheek.

"You need only take a look around you to see that we are preparing for all eventualities. The Serpent is one man, and he cannot hope to stand against what we are building. If our paths cross, then it is simply meant to be. I will cross that path when I reach it. For now, our attention is required elsewhere," he finished, placing his finger on one of the maps unfurled on his desk.

"Poland?"

"An ally of the British," Gellert explained. "If the Germans were to invade, which they will, then any agreement signed in Munich will become worthless. The French would not help the Czechoslovakians, but the Brits cannot ignore their eastern ally."

"So, what do we do?"

"We simply pave the way as we have been and force a conflict when we are ready. Let us see the likes of The Serpent put a stop to this."

Cassiopeia offered the man an admiring smile.

He had a keen mind, and one that would not allow him to deviate from his plans.

The Serpent bothered him, unsettled him even, but Gellert Grindelwald would remain steadfast, his mind focused where it was needed most, and that was on freeing the wizarding world from the shackles that bound it.

(Break)

With the school term having come to an end, Minerva had returned home for the Christmas holidays, as had become her yearly tradition. As ever, her parents were pleased to see her, though she knew it would not be long before the sense of discomfort settled over them when the novelty of her being here wore off.

It was as though her mother expected Minerva to draw her wand and begin casting spells at will at any moment. What her father thought, she didn't know. The man had been on edge for as long as she could remember.

"How is your work going, darling?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"It's going well," Minerva answered cautiously.

Her father had never asked after her education, let alone her apprenticeship.

"Good, good," he replied, a look of uncertainty crossing his features. "What exactly do you do?"

Even her mother looked at the man in a mixture of surprise and concern at his questioning.

"I am completing a mastery in transfiguration," she explained.

"Oh, that's where you turn something into something else, isn't it?" he questioned before taking a bite from his sandwich.

"It does include that," Minerva confirmed, not wanting to overwhelm the man with an in-depth explanation of the branch of magic.

"How fascinating," he declared. "And with this mastery, what will you do?"

Minerva's expression mirrored that of her mother's.

"I'm hoping I will be allowed to teach at the school as a professor."

"A teacher? Now, that is a respectable job," Robert mused aloud.

"It is," Isobel interjected. "Being a professor at Minerva's school is an honour. They employ only the best in their fields."

Robert nodded, a sincere smile forming.

"I'm very proud of you, Minerva. I know I have taken little interest in your schooling, but I am. Your mother ensures me that you were an excellent student."

"I worked very hard to get where I am," Minerva replied. "Professor Dumbledore has never taken on apprentice before."

"And that speaks volumes to how much work you have put in," Robert praised. "Tell me, what other jobs are there in your community?"

Minerva was reeling in shock that her father was asking such things, and it was her mother who seized the moment to offer her input.

"Well, jobs working for the Ministry are very sought after?"

"The Ministry?" Robert asked curiously.

"It is the, er, government," Isobel answered carefully.

"For magical people?"

Isobel nodded, her own shock becoming overwhelming.

"Y-yes, but there are many different jobs in lots of departments. There's the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to start with."

"A magical police force? Who would've thought," Robert chuckled. "Are there a lot of criminals?"

"We have our fair share."

Robert hummed appreciatively.

"We also have a Department of International Cooperation who work with representatives in other countries on shared interests," Minerva broke in, "and even a Department of Magical Games and Sports."

"So, it is not so different to the government I'm familiar with?"

Minerva shook her head.

"Not really, no."

"How very interesting."

If Minerva didn't know any better, she would have thought someone was posing as her father having used Polyjuice Potion, but they had been seated here for close to an hour, and all he had drunk was water from his usual glass.

"What about your friends? What have they gone on to do?" Robert continued before any comment could be passed.

"Well, my friend Poppy is training to be a healer, a doctor," Minerva clarified. "Augusta has just gotten married, and both Charlus and Tiberius are involved training to be involved in politics."

"They sound like an ambitious bunch," Robert said appraisingly.

"What about Harry?" Isobel asked interestedly.

"Harry? Who is Harry?" Robert pressed.

"My other friends grew up in the wizarding world, and don't know much about people without magic. Harry is the only one who spent the first part of his life like me. He lived with his aunt and uncle."

"His aunt and uncle?"

Minerva nodded sadly.

"Harry is an orphan. His parents died when he was a baby."

"The poor lad," Robert whispered. "I shall pray for him."

"What is Harry doing?" Isobel asked. "Did he go back home to his aunt and uncle?"

Minerva shook her head.

"No, he travels a lot for business," she explained cautiously.

"Business?"

"He is a Hit-Wizard," Minerva replied.

Judging by her reaction, Isobel knew exactly what he did. Not that it mattered. She had not involved herself in the wizarding world for decades.

"What is a Hit-Wizard?" Robert questioned.

"It means that he hunts down the most dangerous criminals that even the magical police cannot find," Isobel answered.

"Good Lord, I don't suppose that is an easy job?"

Isobel shook her head gravely.

"It is an exceptionally risky one. Did you not try to talk him out of it?"

Minerva released a laboured breath.

"Harry is stubborn. When he decides on something, there isn't anyone that can change his mind."

"Not even you?"

Minerva offered her mother a sad smile.

"Not even me."

Isobel rubbed her daughter's shoulder comfortingly.

"Well, I think he sounds quite fascinating," Robert declared. "Why don't you invite him for dinner?"

The sadness Minerva felt all but evaporated as a sense of panic set in.

"Invite him here?" she squeaked.

"I don't see why not," Robert returned. "He is a friend of yours, isn't he?"

Minerva looked pleadingly towards her mother, who was no less shocked than her, but her eyes were full of excitement.

"I think it is a wonderful idea," she said pointedly, nudging Minerva with her knee. "Surely he doesn't work over Christmas?"

"No, but…"

Minerva drew a blank.

She did not know what she could say to deter her parents' eagerness on the idea.

"Then it's settled," Isobel announced triumphantly. "Why don't you go and write to him now? There's no time like the present."

Minerva could only nod dumbly as she stood and took her leave of the kitchen, wondering what had just happened.

"Oh dear," she whispered nervously when the magnitude of it settled over her.

She did not know what had gotten into her father, but she would get to the bottom of it.

Hopefully before Harry arrived.

She had no doubt that he would accept the invitation, if only to not disappoint her, but Minerva was terrified.

What if her parents hated him? What if he hated them?

With so many thoughts plaguing her, yet with so little time to ponder them, she penned the missive to him, unsure if she wanted him to decline the invitation despite the fact that she would get to see him, something that did not happen often enough anymore.

(Break)

Ivan had not delayed in beginning the process of removing all files from the ICW building that pertained to any personal details of the Hit-Wizards under his command. If Evans was right, and one of the representatives had become an ally of Grindelwald, it was simply too dangerous to house them here any longer.

Instead, he'd moved them to his personal bank vault where none could get to them, and even paid for additional security.

Along with this, he had left the contents of his vault to Evans should anything untoward happen to him.

He had covered all eventualities as best he could, and now all that remained was to wait for someone from the International Confederation of Warlocks to take a keen interest in the work of his department.

Then he would know what he was up against.

Currently, the Hit-Wizards were going through a quiet period, they always did during December with only a few captures of note he needed to complete the paperwork for.

Evans was still focusing his efforts on the robberies that the banks had been plagued with over the past couple of years, and it seemed as though even the criminals had gone to ground.

Any that were suspected to have ties to Grindelwald had vanished without a trace, and only a few desperate crooks remained operational.

As much as Ivan appreciated the reprieve, it was unsettling to say the least.

Something was happening out there, and though he did not know what, he could feel it like an approaching storm.

As with such things, he was powerless to stop it, not without the blessing of his superiors.

He released a deep breath as a knock sounded at his door, anticipating that he had conjured up troubles with his trail of thoughts.

"Come in," he instructed.

Much to his surprise, it was the Supreme Mugwump who had deigned to grace him with his presence, but he was not alone.

With the Japanese man was the Italian representative, a braggart if Ivan had ever met one.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked.

"We felt that it was long overdue that your department was due an audit," the Italian explained. "We have come to inspect your paperwork to ensure that it is up to date."

So, this was them, one of them at least.

"Of course," Ivan complied, gesturing towards the four filing cabinets that lined the back wall of his office.

With only a nod, the two men set to work with much less care than he appreciated.

They rifled through the files for several minutes whilst Ivan looked on, his eyes narrowed as he observed their behaviour.

This was no official audit. If it was, they would be asking him specific questions about the cases they were not bothering to even read about.

No, they were looking for something, and Ivan had more than a sneaking suspicion he knew what.

Relief was what he felt more than the nervousness he should.

These men were gifted wizards, perhaps the best their countries had to offer. Being so was part of the criteria to being accepted as a representative.

Should things turn ugly, he'd have his hands full with the duo.

"Everything appears to be in order," the Italian declared, "but I cannot help but notice they are incomplete."

"Incomplete?" Ivan asked.

The Italian nodded ruefully.

"It appears that your staff files are missing. Where can we find them?"

"The staff files? You mean the confidential files that are not to be accessed by any other than the Head of the Department of Justice as decreed by the ICW in 1812?"

The Italian did not seem pleased by Federov's response, but the Supreme Mugwump held up a hand to placate him.

"Surely an exception can be made for me?" he asked.

Ivan shook his head.

"I cannot make exceptions. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't because the files aren't here."

"Then where are they?"

"Well, due to the current tensions across the continent, they have been moved to a secure location that hasn't been revealed to me, by a trustworthy person."

"That is…"

"An excellent idea," the Supreme Mugwump interrupted his companion. "We cannot be too careful with how things are. Come along, Gianluca, I think we have wasted enough of Mr Federov's time."

With that, they were gone, and Ivan sighed in relief, though he knew they would not let it lie.

Now, however, he knew just who the people on the inside were. Not that it made him feel any better.

The Supreme Mugwump was an influential man and could make life difficult for most.

Ivan would need to exercise caution, but he could not help but think that his life had just become decidedly more dangerous than it had been before they entered his office.

Exercising caution may not be enough. He needed to ensure he used all of the skills he'd acquired during his years as a Hit-Wizard to avoid whatever repercussions the Japanese and Italian would try to exact upon him.

(Break)

Despite what difficulties and setbacks his job threw at him, Harry always looked forward to his visits with the Flamels. It was the one place where he could escape his work, share a meal with two people he had come to care for greatly, and not feel guilty when the time came for him to leave.

"So, you're going to be away again for Christmas?" Harry asked.

Nicholas nodded.

"With a war brewing on the continent, we feel that this may be the last time we will be leaving the house for a while. Of course, you are welcome to join us if you wish? A few days in the sun may be what you need."

Harry chuckled.

"Maybe I will get a holiday soon," he replied, "but until this robber is caught, I can't afford to not be ready at a moment's notice."

Nicholas offered him an understanding smile.

"You feel that you are close?"

"It's only a matter of time before they strike again, and when they do, they won't get away."

"A relief, I'm sure," Perenelle broke in.

Harry nodded.

"Honestly, I've had enough of this one, and trying to deal with the goblins. Don't get me wrong, I understand why they have animosity towards wizards, but they're a pain in the neck to get to cooperate."

"Yet most trust them with their gold," Nicholas pointed out.

"You don't?"

Nicholas shook his head.

"I lived through some of the rebellions," he reminded Harry. "The goblins are only trustworthy when it suits them. They would lead you to believe they are creatures of honour, but they are as devious as they come. Never trust a goblin, Harry. They care only for profit."

"I've learnt that," Harry assured the alchemist. "Out of interest, if you don't keep your gold with the goblins, where do you keep it?"

Nicholas grinned whilst tapping his nose.

"The less you know, you nosy sod."

Harry laughed as Perenelle placed a plateful of roast beef and vegetables in front of him.

"You can't think that I would rob you?" he said amusedly.

"No, but that doesn't mean I will tell you. It's bad enough that you know where my collection of weapons is. I'd be more upset if they were stolen more than our gold."

"He is not lying," Perenelle sighed. "If only he thought so much of people, I may perhaps have the perfect husband."

"You're still not getting on with the neighbours then?"

Perenelle snorted.

"If they come to visit, Nicholas hides in the library, sulking until they leave."

"I do not," the man denied. "I just have nothing to say to them. I have no intention of having a series of conversations that I have had already dozens of times. They will ask what I do, we will be invited for dinner, that will be an awkward affair, and then the problems will start. Next thing I know, we have piles of dogshit being thrown over the wall. No thank you," Nicholas finished stubbornly.

"Oh, Nicholas, you have grown to be a crotchety old man," Perenelle cooed.

"People make me grumpy," Nicholas muttered. "Anyway, I do not wish to discuss unwanted guests, not when one of the few I appreciate the company of is here."

"I think he actually means that," Harry said to Perenelle.

"Of course, he does," Perenelle tutted. "Why would we not enjoy your company."

"Well, according to Nicholas, I'm a nosy sod, and whatever else he decides to label me."

"True," Nicholas replied, "but you are our nosy sod. Now, why don't you tell us what is new in your life? It has been some time that we saw you last."

Harry shrugged.

"Not much has changed," he answered honestly.

Although he was taking it easier whilst waiting for the robber to resurface, the was nothing of note that had happened.

His investments continued to provide him with excellent returns, and the egg Newt had gifted him had yet to hatch.

Finally, it seemed to have stopped growing, but there was no sign that whatever was inside would emerge soon.

"I have been invited to visit Minerva at her home," he added with a frown.

"To meet her parents?" Nicholas asked.

"It's odd, but yes," Harry confirmed. "Her mother hadn't even told her father she was a witch until Minerva was a toddler. As far as I know, none of them have had anything to do with the wizarding world in years. I find it strange that they would invite me."

"Perhaps they realise that they have little to do with their daughter, and they're making the effort?" Nicholas suggested.

"Maybe," Harry acknowledged. "I don't know either of them enough to say, but Minerva has not had it easy. She hasn't said much, but it must have been tense for her growing up."

"I would say so," Perenelle agreed. "If there is not openness in a relationship, then there will be problems, especially where magical and muggle people are concerned. I suppose it didn't help that her mother hid it from her husband. Have you accepted the invitation?"

Harry nodded.

"As awkward as it might be, I can't let her down, not when it could help mend the rift between her and her parents."

Perenelle smiled proudly at him.

"You are a good boy, Harry," she praised. "You must think a lot of her."

"I do. She is…"

He paused as he felt an alert from his licence.

"Now?" Perenelle asked.

Harry nodded as he stood.

"I'm sorry," he offered sincerely.

"Do not be sorry for what you do, Harry," Perenelle chided lightly as she pulled him into her arms. "We are both very proud of you, aren't we Nicholas?"

"Of course," the man replied, seemingly affronted by the thought that anyone would dare think otherwise. "Your job is an important one. Now, go, Harry. We will write when we arrive in Mexico."

Giving the Flamels a final smile, Harry took his leave of the house, and exited the grounds before activating his portkey.

It was Lisbon he arrived in, only a short distance away from the branch of Gringotts that he would be visiting. The goblins here were as prickly as any he'd come across, and he was not looking forward to making their acquaintance again.

Entering the bank, he found that those within were being held up by the points of spears, swords, and even axes in a tense standoff between the wizards and goblins within.

"What is going on?" Harry demanded.

"The vault has been broken into, and the bank has been locked down," one of the goblins explained, his beady eyes not leaving the wary wizard who had the head of a spear pressed into his neck. "Since you seem to know how this has happened, you can enlighten the rest of us."

"Well, if the bank has been locked down since the alarm was triggered, then I can assure you that none of the people in here are involved. Has anyone entered the vault yet?"

"No," the goblin snarled. "You in your infinite wisdom advised us against it."

"Then we will find the robber when we do. So, why don't you let these people go and lead the way?" Harry suggested.

"None will leave until we have them in custody," the goblin returned stubbornly.

Harry released a deep breath of frustration.

"Fine," Harry agreed. "Can we get this over with? I'm as keen to put an end to this as you."

The goblin grunted and gestured for Harry to follow him through the labyrinth of corridors to where the master vault was hidden from the public.

In front of the door stood several armed guards, and even an enormous troll wielding a club.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Harry declared. "If anything, you will only be in the way."

"We aren't moving," a goblin clad in golden armour returned through gritted teeth.

"Then give me some bloody space, and seal the exit," Harry huffed, already anticipating getting away from the goblins.

"Alright, move it back you lot, not you two, you need to help me open the vault where the wizard will present the thief to us," the same goblin snarked.

Harry merely shook his head whilst the goblins set to work sealing the exit and beginning the process of opening the vault.

When the mass of locks were finally undone and the door popped away from the hinges, it was to a familiar sight of a half-empty vault, though Harry was not focusing on the missing gold as the goblins were.

Instead, his attention was on the very same thing he had witnessed in all the memories he had collected from the other robberies, and when he saw what he was looking for, he sprang into action.

With a flick of his wand, the scurrying spider was levitated in mid-air, it's eight legs frantically kicking as it tried to make its escape.

"I don't think so," he muttered, levitating the creature closer so he could take a closer look at it.

From afar, it would appear it would to be an everyday house spider, but up close, there were distinct markings that set it apart from the rest.

Mingled in with the brown hairs, were streaks of light yellow, and the eyes were blue.

Not common things to see in arachnids.

"Is that it?" the lead goblin snorted when he noticed Harry had no interest in the vault itself.

"Tell me, whatever your name is, what protections do you have against creatures? I'm guessing very few judging by the fact that you have a troll here, and likely other little nasties waiting in the bowels of this place."

"We have no need for protections against them," the goblin said dismissively. "We would lose considerable protection over highly valued vaults if we didn't have our beasts."

"And as such, you do not even have alert wards set up to detect them."

The goblin growled before spitting on the floor in distaste.

"It is impossible to. If we did, they would never stop going off."

"Exactly," Harry agreed, "and that is how these robberies have been taking place. I suppose at first the crook took a chance that this was the case, and it turned out well for them. Unfortunately, they managed to steal quite the sum from several banks before they were caught," he explained as he conjured a jar and placed the squirming spider within.

"Well, your job is done, wizard. Hand over the spider so we can claim our treasure back. They broke our laws and will face the judgement of the goblins."

Harry shook his head.

"They also broke wizarding law, and as they are my prisoner, I will be taking them with me," he said firmly. "I will return your gold to you, minus my one percent reward, as promised."

"You will do no such thing!" the goblin snapped.

At his words, the goblins raised their weapons threateningly and Harry narrowed his eyes at them.

"Now, that is quite rude," he ground out. "I discovered the thief, and I will be taking them with me to answer for their crimes. I do not need your barbaric form of justice to discover where the rest of the gold is. The prisoner is under my protection, and I am responsible for their welfare until I am relieved of them. That can only be done at the ICW headquarters. I suggest you do not make this situation worse than it already is."

"Are you threatening us, wizard?" the goblin demanded.

"No, but if you attempt to harm me or my prisoner, then I will be left with no choice but to ensure our safety."

The goblin's nostrils flared before it gave a command in its own language.

Once more, Harry sprang into action, a wave of his wand bending the points of various weapons pointed at him towards his attackers.

Reminiscent of the incident on Halloween during his first year, the troll swung its club in his direction, missing only by inches as Harry ducked.

What was different now, however, was that Harry was not a helpless first year.

Taking aim with his wand, he conjured a stream of bandages and wrapped them round the troll's head, blinding, and enraging it in equal measures. To provoke the latter further, he lashed the beast across the back using a conjured flame whip.

With a guttural roar, the behemoth began swinging the club wildly, and though it served to distract the goblins from attacking Harry, it did not leave him in any less danger.

"Bugger," he muttered with a wince as the troll inadvertently incapacitated three of its handlers with a sickening blow.

The next smashed a sizable hole in the wall to the adjoining room, and not wanting to be in the path of the next swing, Harry climbed through the hole and out of harm's way.

He found himself in an office of sorts, a single goblin staring at him open-mouthed from behind a desk.

Harry quickly stunned the creature, turning back towards the damaged wall as a bellow of agony sounded.

It appeared that the goblins were getting the better of the rampaging troll and would soon turn their attention back to him.

With some fast thinking, he created a hasty barricade to shield him from view.

"You'd better bloody appreciate this," he muttered to the spider in the jar as he covered himself with his invisibility cloak.

He did so in the nick of time.

The barrier he'd transfigured exploded in a shower of splinters, and seven goblins rushed through the hole with daggers drawn shouting at one another in their own tongue.

Harry held his breath, his grip around his wand tight as he waited to see what they would do.

A heated exchange took place, but after moment, they left, believing that he had already exited the room.

Carefully, he followed in their footsteps, holding back as they undid their own protections that were keeping him boxed in.

He snorted to himself.

They must have thought that he had found a way around them, and he quietly thanked his cloak for getting him out of another less-than-favourable situation.

When he reached the foyer, however, it was to enter upon an even more tense occurrence than what he'd arrived in. During the fracas, a score of aurors had arrived at the bank, the men and women clad in claret robes having their wands trained on the goblins that still held their hostage.

As far as Harry was concerned, this was their problem to deal with. He had gotten what he had come for, and any further incidents were not his to handle.

The only issue he faced now, was how he was going to exit the bank without attracting attention or getting himself or his prisoner hurt if tempers were to boil over.

He looked on intently as the goblins and aurors traded words in Portuguese, and he again chided himself for not wearing his translation pin. What was clear was that the situation was becoming much more volatile with each passing moment and fearing that violence was going to erupt and leave him trapped, he took action.

Hissing gently, he began waving his wand in an intricate pattern.

After only a few seconds, the floor began to tremble, and the two conflicting sides stopped arguing and stared questioningly at one another.

Before any further words could be exchanged between them, a piercing screech rent the air and an eagle shot through the floor, sending both groups stumbling backwards.

It was a spell he didn't think he'd ever find a use for, but one he'd practiced, nonetheless during his sixth year at Hogwarts.

The bird was followed by a bear, a tiger, a large moose, and then an elephant.

The creatures wouldn't harm anyone, but they would cause enough carnage so that Harry could make his escape.

He couldn't have imagined why Salazar would put so much effort into such an inane piece of magic, but in this moment, he was grateful he had.

Whilst the aurors and goblins were running aimlessly around the foyer of the bank, Harry took the opportunity to leave, and with a final glance back towards the building, he activated his portkey.

Immediately, he noticed the drop in temperature as he arrived in Hogsmeade. The streets were carpeted by a thin blanket of snow, and more was falling. In only a matter of hours, it would be several inches thick.

Much to Harry's relief, he need not remain in the cold.

Remembering the cave he had visited Sirius in during his fourth year, he apparated there and set to work casting his needed spells.

It would not do for all his work to be undone by his own negligence, after all.

Pushing aside the memories of witnessing his godfather ravaging the chicken legs he had brought along with Ron and Hermione, he removed the jar from within his jacket.

"Now, I'm going to set you free, and we are going to have a talk, I would suggest that you do not lie to me, not after I just saved your life."

The spider was stood unmoving at the bottom of the jar, and though it could not communicate with him, Harry got the impression that whomever it was would comply.

Implementing his wand for a final time, he reversed the animagus transformation and watched as the odd arachnid began to grow until a brunette woman was seated before him, her vibrant blue eyes full of mischief, and an unrepentant smile tugging at her lips.

"You caught me," she said simply.

Harry snorted.

"You're English."

"By blood, but technically, I'm Bulgarian. My family has lived there for a few generations."

"What is your name?" Harry asked.

The woman was young, only slighter older than him, and just a single look at her was all he needed to see that she was trouble.

"Eleanor Summerbee," she introduced herself as she stood. "And you?"

"My name isn't important," Harry said dismissively.

"Suit yourself," the woman shrugged. "I'll just call you Serpent then, shall I? You are him, are you not."

Harry frowned questioningly at the woman.

"You didn't know you were so famous."

"Famous?" Harry groaned.

Eleanor nodded, evidently enjoying his discomfort.

"Well, you have made quite the name for yourself in certain circles. They whisper about you across the continent. You're quickly becoming a legend. It's nice to know you do really exist," she added with a wink.

"You mean the criminal circles?"

Eleanor shrugged.

"If you like," she conceded. "So, what are you going to do with me? I suppose I should be grateful that you stopped the goblins taking me. I can't imagine they would be treating me as kindly."

"By now, you'd probably be hung up by your feet with your innards dangling by your ears."

"Ohh, now that would be a shame," Eleanor said matter-of-factly. "I'm quite fond of them being where they should be."

Harry shook his head tiredly.

"Where is the rest of the gold?" he asked.

"At my home in Bulgaria," Eleanor answered candidly. "I will take you to it straight away."

"Just like that, without a fight?"

"Of course, you caught me fair and square. I will cooperate with you fully. You will find every knut accounted for."

"You don't seem bothered that I caught you."

"It's a relief to be honest," Eleanor sighed. "I only started doing this because I wanted to see how long I could get away with it for. I certainly don't need the money."

"You did all of this because you were bored?" Harry questioned incredulously.

"Some people play quidditch, I like to rob banks," Eleanor said almost seductively as she stepped towards him. "Both are risky, with the right sense of danger to them. Surely a man like you can understand that."

Harry stepped away from her, uncomfortable with the closeness.

"Ah, you're shy," she teased. "Well, let us not waste anymore time, Mr Serpent. Take me in if you must."

She held her hands out in front of her, her wrists pressed together.

With a sigh, Harry bound them.

"Not too tight, I bruise quite easily," she said with a smirk.

"Where is your house?" Harry huffed.

"I have a portkey strapped to my left thigh," Eleanor said candidly. "The gold I took from Portugal is strapped to my right one in a bag. I'm afraid with my hands tied like this, you will have to get them yourself."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the woman, and with a little wand work, he had the portkey and gold in his hands.

"And not a stitch out of place," Eleanor said appreciatively. "You are very good with your wand."

Harry shook his head in response as he took her by the arm and activated the portkey, keen to be rid of his burden at the earliest possible moment.

"This is your house?" he asked sceptically when they arrived.

The building before him was little more than a shed in the middle of nowhere. As far as they eye could see where rolling, green hills, but nothing else.

It was an odd place to live to say the least.

"You should not judge something by what is on the outside," Eleanor chided. "How very shallow of you."

Harry snorted.

He'd spent the best part of a decade living in a cupboard. He certainly wasn't judging, but he was surprised judging by how much gold she had stolen.

"Why don't you give me a tour?" he suggested.

"And there is that dry wit I've heard so much about. It's a shame I didn't grow up in England. I think I would have enjoyed it. My grandmother seems to think I would have."

"Does your grandmother live here?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"She died a few years ago and left me this place."

Harry followed her through the door of what he'd mistaken for a shed. Inside was nothing of the sort.

Although it wasn't as grand as the Potter home, it was evident that Eleanor's family were not in dire straits when it came to their finances.

"You really were just bored, weren't you?"

She nodded unashamedly.

"You never know what you're capable of until you try it," she replied. "I was hoping to get to ten, and then I would have returned the gold. I don't have any use for it."

"Bloody hell," Harry grumbled. "So, where is it?"

"In the basement," the woman answered almost proudly. "I haven't counted it, but there is a lot."

She wasn't exaggerating.

Having led him to a descending staircase, and through the door at the bottom, Harry's eyes widened.

He had thought that the piles of galleons in his vault when he was eleven was impressive.

This was something else entirely.

There were eight separate piles of coins stacked from the floor to the ceiling.

"To be honest, I'm relieved you caught me. This lot take up too much space."

"Are you not afraid of going to prison?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"I won't be punished too harshly, not for a crime against the goblins. I'll be out in a few years at most."

"And then what?"

Eleanor shrugged.

"Maybe I'll find a hobby that does not end up with me in prison, but then again, if you're still around, I may change my mind," she added provocatively.

Harry could only shake his head in response.

For months he had pursued this woman, and now that he had caught her, there was little satisfaction to be had. He may even have worsened wizard and goblin relations in the process.

All for a woman who was simply bored.

"Alright, I'd best get this lot bagged up," he sighed, "and then I'll take you in."

"What happens then?"

"To you?"

Eleanor nodded.

"You'll be processed and placed in holding, likely until after the Christmas period is over. Then you'll stand trial in front of the ICW."

"What about you?" she pressed.

"Me? After all this, I'm bloody well taking a few days off."

Eleanor giggled.

"Oh, I haven't been so bad, have I?"

Harry glared at the grinning woman and shook his head before setting to work on bagging the stacks of coins.

No matter what he did with the rest of his career, he would never forget the months spent searching for, and eventually meeting Eleanor Summerbee.

For better or for worse, she certainly knew how to leave quite the impression on someone.