Harry exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of Angelina's sharp gaze settle beside him. The Leaky Cauldron had returned to its usual rhythm, but something in the corner still felt like it was listening.
"They've been redirecting vault correspondence," he said evenly. "Access permissions. Shop holdings. Investment accounts."
George's humor evaporated.
"Mum was a part of it?"
Harry hums in response, then silence. Daryl shifted slightly. Not tense. Just ready. George looked down at his hands. They were trembling, faintly. He folded them together.
"How much?" he asked.
"Enough," Harry replied.
Angelina's expression hardened, not shocked, not disbelieving. Angry.
"They don't get to decide when you're broken," she said quietly. "And they don't get to profit off it."
George huffed a breath that almost turned into a laugh. "Merlin, you're terrifying when you're right."
"Good."
Teddy reached toward George suddenly, small fingers stitching, George hesitated only a second before leaning closer. Teddy's hair shifted to a warm gold. George swallowed.
"See?" Angelina murmured. "You're still here."
Harry watched something settle inside his friend- not healed, not fixed. But anchored.
Teddy leaned farther out of the sling, fascinated now with the row of tiny joke-buttons along George's sleeve. One of them chirped faintly under his curious fingers.
George blinked down at him. "Oi," he said automatically, catching Teddy's hand before the charm could fully activate. "That one bits."
Teddy giggled.
George stared at him for a second longer than necessary, then released a slow breath. Angelina didn't say anything. Harry noticed George's shoulders had dropped another inch. George watched Teddy for another moment before leaning back slightly.
"Still bites?" Harry asked him, nodding toward the sleeve charm.
"Only if you press it twice," George replied.
Teddy looked delighted by this information. Harry huffed softly. "Fred insisted on that one. Said it kept people from fiddling with things they didn't understand."
The words hung there for a second longer than intended. Angelina's gaze softened, but she didn't interrupt. George rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked back at Harry.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Let's try this again."
Harry waited. George tapped the table once.
"You said vault correspondence," he continued. "Access permissions. Investments."
His eyes lifted.
"How long?"
Harry didn't pretend to misunderstand.
"A few weeks after the funeral."
George's jaw tightened, but he only nodded once.
"And the shop?"
"Still yours," Harry said. "Nothing's been transferred."
Angelina leaned forward slightly.
"But things have been moving anyway," she said.
Harry inclined his head.
"Orders rerouted. Some supplier agreements renegotiated."
George blinked slowly.
"…without asking me."
"Correct."
For a moment, George just sat there. Then he exhaled.
"Right," he murmured.
Across the table, Daryl finally spoke. "Who signs the papers?"
The question cut cleanly through the table. George looked at him.
"What?"
"If money's movin'," Daryl said simply, "someone's sign'n."
Angelina straightened immediately. "That's a very good point."
Harry reached into his coat and set a folded parchment on the table. George stared at it.
"You already checked."
It wasn't a question. Harry didn't answer. Angelina opened the parchment first. Her brows lifted slowly.
"Well," she said.
George leaned closer.
"What?"
She turned the page toward him.
"Looks like your brother has been very busy."
George read the signature.
"…Percy."
He said the name again, slower this time, as if he were testing it for cracks. Daryl spoke again.
"Question."
George glanced up.
"If it's temporary oversight," Daryl said calmly, "why's money movin' out instead of just watchin' it?"
Angelina went still. George's eyes sharpened slightly. Harry slid a third parchment forward.
"I wondered the same thing."
George unfolded it. His brows pulled together as he read.
"Supplier transfers… vault adjustments…"
Then he stopped.
"…what's this line?"
Harry answered evenly.
"Investment withdrawal."
George's eyes moved to the amount. For the first time since the conversation started, George went completely still. Angelina leaned over his shoulder. Her eyes widened.
"Oh hell no."
George let out a quiet breath.
"…that," he said carefully, "is the prototype fund."
Harry nodded. The account Fred and George had been using to store profits for experimental inventory. Unreleased products. Future expansions. Fred's handwriting still labeled half the files. Angelina straightened slowly.
"They touched that?"
Harry's voice stayed calm. "Most of it."
The table went silent. Teddy squealed softly at the chirping sleeve button, oblivious. George stared at the number again. His jaw tightened once. Then he folded the parchment very neatly.
Too neatly.
When he spoke again, his voice was light.
Dangerously light.
"Well," George said.
He reached over and gently tapped Teddy's nose.
"Looks like Uncle Percy's been running the joke shop."
Harry watched him carefully. George leaned back in his chair and exhaled through his teeth.
"Problem is," he added softly, "…he's not very funny."
Angelina smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. Daryl cracked his knuckles once. Harry rested his hand lightly on Teddy's back. And for the first time since the preachments appeared, George's eyes sparked.
Not with humor.
With something colder.
"Alright," George said. "Let's go get my money back."
George pushed the parchment back across the table toward Harry, but his fingers lingered on the edge for a moment.
"Tell me something," he said.
Harry waited.
"If Percy's been handling this as 'temporary oversight,'" George continued, "why hasn't Gringotts owled me once?"
Harry's gaze flicked briefly toward Daryl before returning to George.
"They did," he said.
George's brow furrowed.
"And?"
Harry tapped the first parchment. "Redirection clause."
Angelina's eyes narrowed. "You're kidding."
"No."
George picked the parchment up again, scanning more carefully this time. His lips pressed thin.
"…proxy correspondence authority," he read quietly.
Angelina leaned over his shoulder again. "Let me guess. Assigned during 'family recovery assistance.'"
Harry didn't confirm it out loud. He didn't need to. George let out a slow whistle.
"Brilliant," he muttered. "I get blown up, Fred dies, and suddenly the Ministry's favorite rule-follower gets to play accountant with my vault."
Teddy squeaked again and reached for George's sleeve.
This time, George absentmindedly let the toddler grab one of the buttons. The charm squeaked instead of biting, having been half-disarmed earlier.
"Easy there, menace," George murmured.
Harry noticed the distraction helped. George's breathing hand steadied again. Angelina, however, looked ready to start breaking furniture.
"So Percy signs the paperwork," she said, ticking points off on her fingers, "redirects the owls, renegotiates supplier agreements, and empties the prototype fund."
"Most of it," Harry corrected quietly.
Angelina shot him a look.
"That doesn't make it better."
"No," Harry agreed. "It doesn't."
George tapped the preachment against the table twice, thinking. The old habit, the one he used to do while Fred paced around the shop, arguing over designs. For a second, Harry almost expected to hear Fred's voice cutting in.
"Where'd it go?" George finally spoke.
Harry slid the third parchment back toward him and tapped a line farther down. George followed the numbers. His eyebrows lifted slowly.
"… Percy didn't keep it."
"No."
Angelina leaned closer again.
"Wait," she said. "Is that-"
George let out a short laugh that held no humor at all.
"Ministry bonds."
Daryl frowned. "Safe investment?"
"Very," George said dryly.
Harry watched realization settle across Angelia's face.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"
George nodded once.
"Prototype development funds," he said quietly, "converted into government securities."
Teddy clapped his hands, delighted by absolutely nothing relevant. George looked down at him and shook his head faintly.
"Fred would haunt the entire Ministry building for that one."
Harry allowed himself the smallest smile.
"Probably."
George set the parchment down again and leaned forward, forearms on the table. For the first time since Harry had arrived, George's expression looked focused rather than stunned.
"Alright," he said.