Finally, the cart screeched to a halt in front of the massive, reinforced stone door of the Lestrange vault. Griphook hopped out, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. He inserted the long, golden key, and the stone began to grind open with a slow, heavy rumble.
"I shall leave you to your... private business," Griphook said, bowing with zero sincerity. "Ring the bell when you are finished. And please... try to keep your garnts on until you leave the premises. Gringotts is a bank, not a brothel."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned the cart around and sped back into the darkness, his mutterings about "filthy wizards" echoing off the cavern walls.
The second the sound of the cart faded, Tonks let out a long, ragged breath that was halfway to a sob. She didn't even wait to look for the cup. She hiked up her heavy skirts with a frantic, ungraceful grab and reached into her underwear, yanking the tiny green beetle out with a triumphant, murderous glare.
"Out! Get out right now!"
Ethan shifted back mid-air. One mont he was a thumbnail-sized bug, and the next, a six-foot-tall man was stumbling onto the stone floor of the vault, laughing so hard he could barely stand.
"I see you were having quite the fun in there," Tonks panted. Her Bellatrix face was still intact, but her eyes were blazing with a very un-Bellatrix-like fury. She was frantically adjusting her blouse and pulling at the waistband of her skirts, her face a bright, pulsing scarlet.
"Can't say no," Ethan remarked, dusting off his robes and looking her up and down with a shaless grin. "It was very warm in there. Best seat in the house, honestly. I think I finally understand why Rita Skeeter likes this form so much. Though her taste in 'exclusive stories' is nowhere near as good as mine."
"You are a nace, Williams," Tonks said, though as she looked at him—ssy-haired and utterly unrepentant—her anger started to lt into that familiar, dangerous spark. She dropped the Bellatrix disguise, her skin bubbling back into her natural, pink-haired self.
"I'm a thorough investigator," Ethan corrected, stepping closer and reaching out to adjust her collar. His fingers intentionally grazed the skin of her collarbone—skin he'd just explored as a beetle. "I had to make sure the disguise was... structurally sound. The lower foundations are particularly impressive."
"Was it?" she challenged, stepping into his space and grabbing the front of his robes, her breath still a bit uneven. "Because you nearly made give that goblin a heart attack."
"Oh, it was solid," Ethan whispered, his voice dropping into a low, husky rumble. "But the contents were definitely the highlight. It was very warm, Tonks. Very... welcoming."
Tonks let out a soft laugh, her hands resting on his chest. "After all this is over... I am going to teach you a lesson you won't forget. And I won't be in a bug-sized form when I do it."
"Whatever you say, mistress," Ethan smirked.
****
He turned his attention to the vault. It was a chaotic mountain of gold, silver, and cursed artifacts.
"But first," Ethan said, his eyes scanning the piles. "The payday."
"Ethan! The cup!" Tonks reminded him, though she was already looking toward the high shelves.
"I'm multitasking, Pinky!" Ethan called back. He didn't just stand around. He looked at the mountains of Galleons and the priceless jewels. In his world, these were resources. Here? This was a chance to bankrupt the enemy.
"System," Ethan muttered. "Open the Dinsional Pocket. Bulk collect. Filter for: Anything that isn't currently screaming or rotting."
[ Dinsional Pocket Opening...]
[ Looting Initiated.]
Mountains of gold began to vanish into thin air, sucked into an invisible vortex. Ethan walked through the vault like a king, his hands glowing with orange light as he bypassed the minor protection charms.
"You're actually robbing them?" Tonks asked, her jaw dropping as she watched a chest of eralds vanish. "We're supposed to be saving the world!"
"The Lestranges are terrorists, Tonks," Ethan said, not missing a beat as he pocketed a stack of silver ingots. "Leaving this gold here is just financing the war against us. I'm doing a 'strategic asset reallocation.' It's a very noble pursuit."
"You're a thief," she said, though she couldn't hide her grin.
"I'm a Robinhood," Ethan corrected, finally spotting a small, golden cup with a badger engraving on a high, precarious shelf. "And look at that—the Cup. I told you I was good at my job."
He reached out his hand, the orange light of his magic ready to snatch the soul-anchor, but his mind was still half-focused on the 'tour' he'd just taken through Tonks's wardrobe. "Now... let's finish this so I can get back to that lesson you ntioned."
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