Boobs Hunter
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Brooms and Cock ch.14
🕑 Added 2024-04-01 10:00:00 +0000 UTCThey passed by several animated conversations, but one in particular caught Harry's attention, even though he tried not to eavesdrop. Three men were discussing a transaction involving hundreds of pounds of drugs, and their raised voices drew the attention of everyone around.
When one of the men stood up angrily and looked like he was about to strike another, a shadowy figure moved away from the wall, and Harry noticed the massive bouncers positioned around the narrow room. The bouncer wasn't as big as the doorman, but he easily held a wand in his hand. It was a subtle reminder, and the shouting man settled back into his chair, toning down his tone as he continued the argument.
"Would they have shot him?" Harry asked Fleur, but the blonde sister shrugged.
"I don't know; we've never been let in before. Never?!" Harry hissed, only to be met with giggles from the sisters.
"No one has ever been brave enough to bring us in," Gabrielle said, her bright blue eyes darting around.
"And we're not foolish enough to come here alone," Fleur finished for her as they approached the bar. "Aren't you a delicious pair of treats," she said to the sisters, a tattooed bartender not paying much attention to Harry, leaning forward and flaunting her ample fake breasts. "What can I get you to drink, darling?"
"I'll have a vodka cranberry, and another one for my sister, please," Fleur smiled, arching herself under the woman's obvious gaze.
"And for you?" asked Harry, not taking his eyes off Fleur as the petite blonde took a seat right next to him.
"I'll have a Jack and Coke," said Harry, unsure of what to order at his first bar.
As the bartender began pulling out glasses and preparing the drink, Harry furrowed his brow and looked at Fleur. "Why shouldn't you and your sister be safe here alone?
"I don't know if you've noticed," she said with a wink, "but my sister and I are identical sisters despite our age difference, and there are men, women too, who are willing to do terrible things for a prize we could collect at an auction. "Auction?"
"The sex industry has its darker side," Gabrielle said with a sour face. "Debt slaves, young girls, students stolen from dormitories.... We want to be where the action happens, where all the dangerous shit we read about and watched in movies as girls is. We don't want to end up chained up in some freak's basement."
"Got it," Harry said, earning an elbow in the ribs from Gabrielle, but her sour face turned into a smile as he grinned.
"She said in the weirdo's basement," Fleur remarked, reaching out and running her fingers along Harry's jacket lapel. "Not a handsome, confident, young man."
"So I don't have to return the chains?" Harry asked. "If I know Hermione, it's probably better not to," Fleur/Gabrielle replied, tilting her head back and laughing loudly. "What do you know about Hermione?" Harry asked, taking his drink as the bartender placed it on the table. Tearing the cocktail straws, he took a small sip. The whiskey was strong, but its taste was mellowed by the sweet soda water, so he found it quite enjoyable. Subtle warning bells started ringing, and he knew it would be better to pace himself because it was going down too easily.
"Do you think I introduced her to your father?" Gabrielle asked. "We've known her since our Hogwarts days." Someone approached Harry from behind, and his hand dropped onto Fleur's shoulder.
"You two look like you should still be in school, beauties. Simply stunning!" The speaker was an elegant man in a silk suit. His hair was slicked back, and he sported slender mustaches that resembled a worm wriggling on his upper lip when he smiled at the sisters. His hand slid down Fleur's arm and gripped her hand, squeezing it like a rancher assessing the meat of a steer, and his eyes roamed over them.
The sisters pressed against Harry's sides, and he felt a wave of disgust wash over him as the man scrutinized them. Beneath the thin layer of fear, there was pulsating excitement, evident in their dilated pupils and hard nipples.
"How can I assist you?" Harry asked, drawing the man's dark eyes toward him. The man's oily smile faded as he looked Harry up and down, then returned with vengeance when he saw Harry's youth.
"Young man, I think I can help you," he smiled conspiratorially, approaching him and speaking softly. "I'll give you two million for the pair. Cash in hand when you leave here. No questions asked. Are you in?"
"I'm not interested," Harry shook his head, immediately realizing his mistake. Instead of getting angry or persuading, the man's eyes turned cold and flat, and Harry saw a hint of murder in his stance. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine as the man's lips curved into a half-smile, and he nodded toward Harry.
"The man's mind is made up, that's how it is... Sir," his gaze lingered on the sisters as he licked his lips. "See you outside."
With a final wink, he turned and headed for the exit. He snapped his wrist towards the couch, four sluggish men rose and followed him, each casting menacing glances at Harry and the sisters.
"Oh, Harry," Gabrielle said, breathing quickly and digging her nails into Harry's shoulder. "What are we going to do now?"
Harry couldn't help but notice the looks in the sisters' eyes, a mix of fear and excitement.
These women are crazy, he thought, and they want to see me dead!
Dizzying thoughts swirled in his head as he tried to ignore the growing anger within him. Anger at the sisters for getting him into this situation, anger at the man for his bad behavior, but most of all, anger at himself for failing to read the situation. Refusing to dwell on the consequences, he scanned the bar, but only a few people paid attention to their little drama.
Most averted their gaze, but an older gentleman sitting in a leather-backed armchair smiled politely at them and raised his glass. Harry raised his in return, and the man waved them over. Harry glanced at the sisters, who shrugged and headed their way, taking their drinks with them.
"Just when I think I know everyone here, a new face appears," the old man said, raising his glass in a greeting to Harry. "I'm Hiram Herzog, and you?"
"Harry Potter," Harry said, pointing to the sisters. "This is Fleur and Gabrielle."
"Pleasure to meet you," Hiram nodded to them before turning his gaze back to Harry with curiosity. "You're not related to that Potter, are you? The one who recently passed away?"
"He was my father."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Hiram said with a sad expression. "I didn't know him well, but he died too soon... We all do."
"Thank you." They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. "What do you do, sir?"
"Hiram, please. I used to be an accountant, but now I'm retired."
"Congratulations," Fleur said. "Do you enjoy it?"
"No," Hiram replied with a sour expression. "That's why I come here. I get bored at home, and if I have to listen to my wife's chatter about the garden one more time...". Fleur and Gabrielle laughed as he shot a sharp look in Harry's direction. "And what about you? How does a young man who's made dangerous enemies spend his time?"
"Harry plans to revitalize the English broom industry," Gabrielle said with more confidence than Harry felt.
"Now that's ambition," the old man seemed to come alive at the thought of such an endeavor. "Are you going for in-house production or imports?"
"Production," Harry replied.
"How will your sales model fare against the monopoly of dealers?"
"I'm not sure," Harry said, briefly pondering the issue but realizing it could become a problem.
Shifting in his chair, Hiram bombarded Harry with a dozen questions, each more penetrating and precise than the last. Within five minutes, he had laid bare Harry's entire business plan and strategy.
"An ambitious plan," the man nodded, now sitting comfortably in his chair and gesturing with his drink in hand. "And nearly impossible to execute before today. I assume you've seen today's announcement?"
"We haven't watched it," Fleur replied. "But we've known about it for months."
"You haven't missed much," Hiram said. "But the markets will be in turmoil tomorrow, and there are many nervous heads in England tonight."
"They won't be nervous for long," Harry said. "If everything falls into place, we'll be able to hire workers for the production floor in a few months." The man raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Harry denied. "Some details still need to be worked out before I tell anyone."
"The property by the motorway?" the old man asked, furrowing a single white eyebrow at Harry, his jaw dropping in shock.
"How...?"
"I've heard various things," he said with a humble shrug and signaled the bartender to close up. "One piece of advice: real estate agents are notorious gossips. Ask an assistant to check the properties for you."
He attempted to rise, but his hand shook, and he nearly fell back onto his seat. Harry, however, got up smoothly and assisted him to his feet. It felt as if he was shaking the man's hand once more when he saw his face tense up. "It was nice to meet you," Harry said as he stood.
"And you, young man," his pale blue eyes were sharp as daggers as he stared at Harry. "Would you kindly escort an old man to his car? It might be dangerous in this alley."
"Harry, no!" Fleur hissed, vigorously shaking her head. When Harry shot the sisters a silencing glance, Gabrielle's teeth snapped shut as she closed her mouth. "Is there a problem?" Hiram asked.
"No, sir," Harry replied, his heart racing and cold sweat breaking out on his skin. Then he looked at the sisters and furrowed his brow. He didn't want to leave them alone, but he couldn't take them outside until he dealt with the man and his henchmen. The thought of not returning to them, or even not surviving, loomed all too large in his mind, but he saw no other way.
"Francis will make sure your dates are safe if that's your concern," Hiram said, waving his hand towards one of the shadowy guards. Without hesitation, the man stepped forward, crossing his massive arms over his chest as he stood near the couch where the sisters sat. "Thank you, Francis. This will only take a moment. Shall we go?"
