TBAY: The Bill Weasley is ESE post

[B Arrowsmith]

No: HPFGUIDX 85639

Erin and George wandered out of the clearing, Erin animated but George 
still looking slightly sceptical.

Silence reigned.

The peace was shattered by rustling in the undergrowth; bushes shook, 
curses rent the air and a dishevelled figure burst out, tripped over a 
root and flattened a patch of wild flowers.

"Huh. Never did fancy  lilies - petunias are different, though."

Kneasy (for it is he) painfully levered himself to his feet, hampered, 
as always, by a left leg encumbered by the diminutive, drooling, 
mucus-encrusted homunculus that is Snape!Son.

"Gawd, nearly did meself a mischief; could 'ave been nasty. But it 
would've been even worse if them two had thought to dig a bit deeper."

So saying he scrabbled through the already disturbed earth in front of  
the  gravestone. After a few minutes rooting around, which at least 
allowed him to change the dirt under his fingernails, he uncovered a  
tin box. He reverently brushed the dirt from the lid to reveal, in 
glowing letters,
"Gringotts. The Friendly Bank."

"Here it is - me pension fund. This little lot should see me right for 
a few years."

"That depends," said a voice in his ear, "on what it contains."

Kneasy yelped and spun round. "Don't  do  that! creeping up behind me 
when I'm not expecting it!"    He squinted at the figure in the shadow 
of the tree. "You are from the Daily Prophet, ain't you?"

The other nodded. "Yes, and I must say that sounds like a very  
interesting story Erin's got there. Might make a page 2 splash."

"Nah." Kneasy scoffed, "She's got it all wrong. This," he patted the 
box, "is the real story. This is your lucky day. It's got everythin'. 
Have a seat on that gravestone an' I'll fill you in. But you don't get 
the proof 'till we've agreed a price, right? A *good* price."

Kneasy  balanced the  box on Snape!Son's  head, fished in his pocket 
for the key, wiped it on the little mite's greasy, lank hair and opened 
the box.

"Sorry, son, but the lock sticks.
"Bill's  a bad 'un, right enough, but not the way Erin thinks he is. 
See, it all started at Hogwarts. Mad about Quidditch, he was, but he 
was pretty  mad about havin' no money either. None goin' spare in the 
Weasley family. So he  starts doin' a few favours for Bagman, his 
Quidditch hero. Passes information, fixes a few House matches; Bagman 
makes a killin' layin' off bets and  Bill gets his cut.
Nice little earner.

"O'course, this stops when he leaves school, but he still likes the 
readies, so he goes where the money is - Gringotts. T'ain't long 'afore 
he's into treasure 'untin' for 'em. Nice  job, eh? But what he declares 
ain't exactly what he finds. Skims, don't he? What with that and the 
bonuses he can start to live high, wide an' 'andsome. travel, fancy 
clothes, jewellery, the lot. Cuts  quite a swathe, our Billy; catches 
the eyes o' some o' the ladies. An' one of 'em catches his eye.

"Besotted, he was.  Showers her with gifts, takes her to all the best 
places, spends a fortune he does - a fortune he ain't got. So  he skims 
some more." Kneasy sighed at the iniquity in the world today. "Not 
smart, but once a Veela gets 'er claws in you, you're dead  meat. 
Should've realised, shouldn't he, Veelas ain't got that reputation for 
nothin'.  Dear, oh dear. Anybody could've told him; been the ruin of 
many a poor boy, they 'ave.

"Naturally, them Goblins keep an eye on the staff as well as on the 
books. Here's a treasure 'unter, livin' the high life and profits are 
down. An' guess what? Lots of gold scarabs an' things on the market. 
Not clever, not with the nasty, suspicious minds they got. So they 
re-locate him back to Head Office while the Auditors go out to Egypt." 
He shuddered. "Ever met the Auditors? No? Lucky you. Evil, they are, 
evil. Vicious, too. Don't use quills, they prefer thumbscrews an' a 
meat hook.

"So  Bill's back home, no more skimmin', no more bonuses,  but he keeps 
on in the same old way. Can't stop; he's hooked. He's startin'  to 
notice he's getting funny looks at the office, even on the mornings 
when he don't look like he's  gone ten rounds with the  Hogwarts squid. 
What  he  don't  notice is that he's  being followed everywhere, lots 
of notes, photographs; 'ere, just like this." He reached into the box 
and passed across a snapshot.

"Merlin's beard! What's this? Oh, what a picture! Centrefold stuff!"

"Yeah. That's from a time he went to see Madam Whiplash. Somethin' she 
does for special customers - the rubber waders, the goose-grease, the 
feather duster. Had to provide his own rubber duck, though."

"Rubber duck? What's that for?"

"That's what Arthur wanted to know. Bill asked him to get him one from 
the office."

Kneasy shrugged and shuffled sideways out of the ever-widening pool of 
nasal emissions round his left foot.

"Won't be long now before they 'as him strung upside down  in front of 
their watch-dragon, askin' 'im some very pointed questions and stirrin' 
the barbecue sauce. Maybe he thinks so too. That's probably why he's 
tryin' to do a deal with Fudge. Pass on information, help him take over 
the Bank in exchange for a seat on the Board and an unlimited expense 
account. Always been fond of cash, has old Fudge; gives it to charity." 
Kneasy sniggered and rolled his eyes. "And very grateful Charity is 
too. She's got this special spell, 'Fallacious' or something like that.

"Anyway, the Quibbler nearly got the story last year, but they wouldn't 
  hand over  the folding stuff. Seemed to  think it was for the benefit 
of the public or some such tripe. But I got the proof right here.
I  got bettin'  slips and thank you  notes from Bagman, receipts, 
letters from Fudge, Auditors report and photos, lots and lots of 
photos. Here, you ever seen a Veela wrap her hair round.... no, on 
second thoughts I'll keep that one.

"So;  what'm I bid?"