This was written for my amusement and that of others. Harry Potter, the related characters and universe are owned by J.K. Rowling. No remuneration, financial, real or chattel, has been or will be received by me.
Author's Note: This a story I'm working on, the following excerpts meets FFN's current standards. It is in-progress and when completed the complete version will be posted elsewhere. Non-canon, Post Hogwarts. EWE.
Author's Note 2: One of the readers brought to my attention that I'd failed to translate the French in the last section. My apologies to all, it's now included at the end. [25 July 2013] And thanks to another reader, the missed translation(s) have now been added. Thanks to all for your patience and support — LWJ2
Chapter One
Hermione Granger caught the eyes of everyone at the table. She drew her wand and cast muffliato around their table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
"Face it, ladies. Harry is a clueless git."
"No, Hermione. Harry's clueless. Ron's a git," Padma responded.
"Ron's not a git," Ginny said. "He's not that organised," she finished acidly. Hermione nodded in agreement. "The twins are gits, sometimes. They're organised."
There was general agreement and nodding after Ginny's statement. George and Fred's saving grace was that they weren't malicious about it, although Draco and several other Slytherins would disagree; the twins' last prank had involved an American muggle product called "Doe in Heat," a naked Draco and a huge red stag pursuing Draco the length of Diagon Alley.
"I presume you have all had about the same luck I have had with Harry?" Ginny asked the group.
"No," Padma responded sourly. "You've at least snogged him. Pad and I get kisses. On our foreheads."
There were glum nods of agreement with Padma's statement. After graduation, Harry had "dated" all five of the ladies, if "date" meant "took to a Ministry function," danced (albeit reluctantly) and kissed goodnight afterward. Hermione had described it as "feeling like a flak jacket," with which the other ladies agreed after her explanation of the muggle term.
Articles in The Prophet and The Quibbler had resulted in Harry being hounded by almost every unattached witch in Britain. When Teen Witch Weekly had followed up with a Harry Potter spread, he'd gone into hiding. So far, none of the papers had tracked him further than Grimmauld Place. Most reporters crossed Kreacher only once.
"So how do we find him?" asked Luna.
"McGonagall and the twins?" suggested Ginny.
"And Winky," added Hermione.
"First, we sell the idea to Angelina and Alicia," Padma said. "Between them and Ginny, I think the twins will cooperate."
"How about McGonagall?" Hermione asked. "I'm not at all certain she'd approve of this."
"That's why we talk to the twins first," Padma said decisively. "They'll help sell it to McGonagall."
Parvati voiced the question they'd been avoiding. "Who's the First wife?"
Hermione and Ginny spoke simultaneously. "Ginny." "Hermione."
"No," Ginny shook her head for emphasis. "Hermione. You've known him longest. You're his best friend. I'm just the girl who had a crush on him until I was thirteen."
"You're the one he was dating."
"You and Padma are the smartest ones here," Ginny said. "You've known him longer, so you get it by a nod."
The rest of the girls nodded in agreement.
"Luna's Second. I'm Third. Parv's Fourth. Pad's Fifth, because she's too smart," Ginny said. "You think too much, Pad," she added.
"Why am I Second instead of you, Ginny?" Luna asked.
"Because you're brilliant," Padma said. "You're brilliant and don't think conventionally. Parv's the hedonist amongst us. She'll teach us what we don't know."
"What don't we know?" Luna asked. "None of us are exactly stupid."
Padma laughed. "How many of us are virgins?" she asked, raising her hand.
There were five hands in the air. Padma's eyebrows raised when she saw her sister raise a hand. "Really, Parv?" Parvati nodded.
"How many of us know how to make Harry last long enough to make love to all of us in one night?" Padma asked.
Parvati's hand stayed up. Hermione and Ginny were crimson. Luna looked at Parvati and raised an eyebrow.
"It's in the magical Kama Sutra," Parvati said.
"There's a magical version?" Hermione asked.
Padma laughed. "Parv's had it memorised since she was thirteen."
"Twelve," Parvati said. "I sneaked mother's copy," she added. "It's better than The Perfumed Garden."
"Perfumed Garden?" Hermione asked.
"It was written by a muggle Arab pervert who liked small children," Parvati said dismissively.
There was a uniform chorus of "Ewwwwww!" from the rest of the girls.
"Can we get away with this legally?" Hermione asked. "Here, I mean, in Britain. I know we can elsewhere."
"Yes," Padma said. "Unless ..." she looked at the rest of the girls. "I know Parv and I don't have any open contracts. Does anyone else?"
"Dad's not like that," Ginny replied.
"Daddy would ask me first, if he even considered it," Luna said.
"Contracts?" Hermione asked.
"Marriage contracts, Hermione," Padma replied. "Offers of marriage."
Hermione looked stunned. "You mean, like the … like muggles did during the Regency and before?"
"Yes," Parvati said.
"Regency?" asked Ginny.
"In the early 1800s, Ginny," Hermione explained. "George III was insane, so his son, who became George IV, was appointed Regent."
"I didn't know that was done," Hermione said. "I'm sure I don't have any, Daddy would be getting out his bird gun and buy a whip, I think."
"Bird gun?" Ginny asked.
"It's a muggle thing," Hermione explained. "Muggle men go hunting starting in August, for grouse. They use shotguns, or bird guns, to kill them."
There were quizzical looks from Ginny and Luna.
"It's a muggle sport," Padma explained. "Like Quiddich is for us. Father likes it."
"Oh," Luna said. "But your parents aren't muggles."
"Our family has a lot of business with them," Padma told her. "Father's gone after rogue tigers, too."
"For Morgana's sake, don't mention that around Dad," Ginny said, a rising note of horror in her voice.
The twins and Hermione shuddered. Luna giggled. For some reason, the idea of Arthur Weasley and a gun didn't faze Luna.
"First," Padma said, "we need to get together with Angelina and Alicia. Girl's night, okay?"
Everyone nodded.
Ginny rose from the table. "Come on, we'll go over to the twins' shop. If they're not there, then we'll find out where they are." Parvati canceled the muffliato with a wave of her wand.
Chapter Two
George Weasley looked up when the bells over the door tinkled. He and Fred had charmed them to sound when a family member or Harry entered the shop. When he saw his sister and the four women with her, he paled. Five pairs of narrowed eyes returned his glance. Five sets of lips were fixed in lines that could only be called "determined."
Lee Jordan turned a sickly grey and promptly threw the Weasleys to the wolves. "I'm taking an early lunch, Fred," he announced as he headed toward the door. Fred looked up and turned white.
"One would think Voldemort and a crowd of deatheaters just walked in," Ginny remarked.
"We survived that lot," Fred answered.
"You lot are actually dangerous," George finished.
His sister uttered the most dreaded sentence a man can hear. "We need to talk."
"Whatever it is," Fred said.
"You can have it," George finished.
"We need to talk with Angelina and Alicia," Hermione told them.
The twins looked at each other, mutual expressions of dread on their faces.
"Can't we settle this," Fred asked.
"Without the girls?" George finished.
"No," five voices said simultaneously.
"Boys," Hermione told them, "co-operate and I guarantee you'll benefit from this." Parvati smiled and nodded at Hermione.
"Or," Ginny added, "I can discuss your … living arrangements … with Mum."
Parvati batted her eyelashes at the twins. "And your dating habits with the girls," she said.
"But that was," Fred said.
"Five years ago," George finished.
Padma looked at her sister. "Both of them?" she asked.
"At the same time?" Luna asked.
Parvati smiled slowly. It was the kind of smile one associated with a satisfied predator, such as a Bengal tiger.
"Mum will love hearing about that," Ginny said flatly.
"I'm sure you can still run a business by mail order," Hermione observed.
"The Greenland icecap would be a nice safe place for you two," Padma commented. "Not even polar bears go there. There are ice devils, though," she added.
"We're," Fred said.
"Screwed," George finished.
"Only if you co-operate," Ginny replied sweetly. "Otherwise ..." she let the sentence trail off.
"Tell them girl's night out," Padma said. "Tomorrow. Our place." She conjured a piece of parchment and a quill. "Here's the floo address. About six, tell them to wear something casual."
The twins nodded.
"We'll discuss the rest of it later," Luna told them.
Fred and George both nodded. They were broken men.
H&TG ... H&TG ... H&TG
Lee Jordan opened the door to the shop and peered in carefully. "Is it safe?" he asked.
"Coward," sneered Fred.
"Traitor," George jeered.
"He who runs away lives to run another day," Lee replied unashamedly.
"Here," Lee offered. "Sandwiches from Florean Fortescue's."
"You're not a bad sort, for a cowardly traitor," Fred offered around a mouthful of sandwich.
George nodded, summoning butterbeers for the three of them.
"Do I want to know?" Lee asked.
"They're up to something," Fred replied.
"Dohh," chorused George and Lee.
"But what, that's the question," mused George.
"What would all five of them want?" Fred asked at large.
The three men chewed on their sandwiches, lost in thought.
"Harry," they said simultaneously.
"Shit," mumbled Fred. "Close the shop, George." Fred rose and went to the pantry in the rear, obtaining three cold butterbeers. George waved his wand, causing the door to lock, lights to dim and a sign announcing "Closed to plot better wheezes" to appear in the door and window.
The three stared glumly at each other, sipping their butterbeers.
"Do we tell Harry?" Fred asked in general.
"What's the worst thing Harry can do if we don't?" George asked.
"Kill us," Lee responded.
"Right, that's settled. Harry's screwed. The girls won't kill us," Fred observed. "Even if we begged them."
All three shuddered.
Fred wrote a note, then attached it to the shop owl. "Take this to Ginny," he told the owl. "Wait for a reply." The owl nodded and flew out the window. Twenty minutes later, it came back, offering a note to Fred.
"Lee, tell Katie that she's invited to a girl's night out tomorrow about six at the twins' place," he said. "About six. Casual. Alicia and Angelina are going also."
"Gentlemen," Lee said, "are your affairs in order? Mine are."
Fred and George nodded.
"Then all we can do is wait and hope the tiger we're riding doesn't eat us."
"Yes."
"Yeah."
"Still," Fred observed, "all five of them? Harry hasn't got a chance."
"Lucky bugger."
"Yeah."
"How do you two feel about your sister ..." Lee's sentence trailed off.
"How do we explain this to Mum?" Fred asked.
"We don't," George said flatly. "Who do you want to cross, Mum or the five smartest witches in three generations?"
"Eight," Lee commented.
"Shit," Fred observed.
"Yeah," said Lee and George.
A crafty look crossed George's face. "We need to spread the pain," he observed. Summoning a piece of parchment, he wrote a note and attached it to the shop's owl. The owl looked at George and nipped the back of his hand, irritated that his snack had been interrupted. Lee offered him the remaining bit of his sandwich, which was promptly devoured.
"Take this to Ginny," George told the owl. "Wait for a reply." The owl looked at Lee's sandwich wrapper. "All right, we'll get you some bacon," Fred said. The owl nodded and took off.
George rose, headed to the door. "Seconds?"
"Yeah. Don't forget Damnowl's bacon."
George nodded. "I'll get another case of butterbeer also. We're getting low."
Lee tossed George a five-galleon piece. "My turn to buy the butterbeer."
George's return coincided with Damnowl's, who sat on his perch and glowered.
"Okay, okay, I've got your bacon."
Damnowl nodded and extended his leg, then attacked the bacon George had bought him.
"Tell me again why we bought that damned owl," Fred said.
"Because he's big, savage and was cheap," George said. "Mostly, cheap."
Lee snickered. "From what you two told me, they almost paid you to take him out of the shop."
"Damn near. When we got him, he was almost starved. The shop was feeding him nothing but owl treats. He tore our lunches apart the first day. The next morning, when we went to Fortescue's for breakfast, he flew over. Damned owl was eating our bangers. Fortescue laughed his arse off and brought him his own plate of bangers."
Lee was doubled over with laughter. "I'd have paid to see that."
George walked over to the fireplace, threw in a handful of Floo powder and called out "Shell Cottage, Fleur Weasley."
"Georges," Fleur answered. "What is it?"
"Ginny's invited you to a girl's night out, Fleur, tomorrow at about six at the Patil twins' place. She asked me to message you."
"Merci, Georges. Tell Ginny I may be a little late, but not later than half after six."
"I'll do that, Fleur. Oh, Ginny said to dress casually."
"How many of us, Georges? I'll bring some wine."
"Nine, that I know of, including yourself."
"Bon. Merci beaucoup, Georges."
"Now we wait for Bill," George said as he sat down and addressed his second sandwich. "We're supposed to be doing research," he said between bites, pointing at the shop signs. "So, what do we want to do to Malfoy?"
"We actually have a commission for that," Fred announced.
"We do?"
"Not officially, no."
"Then what?" asked Lee.
"Umm. Well. Remember when Shacklebolt called on us after Malfoy's love scene with the stag?"
"Yeah. We were officially reprimanded. 'Gentlemen, I am forced to reprimand you' was what Shacklebolt said."
"And when he came in with his little girl to buy stuff for her?"
"Yeah. His wife was there, 'limiting the damage' she said."
"Well, while they were picking out stuff, Kingsley handed me a purse. A hundred galleons. 'A group of Ministry employees did not commission you lot to do something spectacular to Malfoy.' He added that this time we need to be careful about being seen."
"We need to sub-contract some of this," George said.
The two others looked at him quizzically.
"Who's the smartest witch we know?"
"Hermione."
"Who's the most vicious witch we know?"
"Bellatrix is dead."
"Our sister, unless you want to drag Mum into it. Think about it. Who's the one witch we'd never cross?"
"Hermione."
"Ginny."
"Your mum. She's dead scary."
"Okay. But I have one other suggestion."
"Who?"
"Bill. Maybe Fleur, too."
The fireplace flashed green and Bill Weasley stepped out. "What about my wife?" he said.
"We don't have a commission from the Minister and we're not going to use you as a consultant on the commission we don't have," Fred told him.
"What's this?" Bill asked. The three plotters explained the situation to Bill.
"You lot did what to Malfoy? Wait a minute." Bill re-entered the fireplace, calling out "Gringott's Cursebreaker Office." Several minutes later, the fireplace flashed green again and Bill stepped out, holding a penseive.
"There's a price, gentlemen. Three memories."
"Done."
Twenty minutes later, Bill managed to stop laughing. "I'll do it," he laughed. "Now. What's Ginny up to?"
"It's not just Ginny," George said. "Hermione, the Patil twins, Luna and Ginny..."
"Have all decided they want Harry," Fred finished.
"Merlin, that'll be the cat fight of the century," Bill said.
"No, Bill. They all want Harry."
"That's why it'll be the cat fight of the century," Bill replied.
"Bill," George said patiently, "they're not competing with each other."
"Hunh?"
"The five of them showed up at the shop today," Lee said.
"Oh, bugger."
"Yeah."
"You going to tell Harry?" Bill asked.
"Hell, no," chorused the three of them.
"Mum?"
"Have you gone mad, Bill?" asked George.
"Your wife is going to be in on it," added Fred.
"And our ladies," added Lee.
"Harry's doomed," Bill said. "Who tells Mum?"
"They do, because ..." Fred started.
"Mum'll go spare," George finished.
"Better them than us," Lee added. "Harry can only kill us."
"Who scored highest on NEWTs, Bill?"
"Hermione, Padma, in their year; Luna and Ginny in theirs."
"Parvati scored right behind Hermione and Pad, Bill. You really want to cross the five of them, plus Fleur?"
Bill blanched. "Sod Harry. Fleur makes Mum look reasonable when she's angry."
"Exactly."
"Lucky bugger."
"Yeah. Poor bastard, too."
"Merlin and Morgana. Five women in synch with each other."
"No shit. You should see it with three," Lee commented.
"No, I shouldn't," Bill said. "One Veela is more than enough, thank you."
"Wait until Victoire ..."
"I didn't hear that," Bill said flatly.
An Interlude at Harry's Pool Much Later
"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron said when he saw Harry's back. The fading criss-crossed scars from Dursley's belt were overlaid with furrows that looked like a tiger had clawed him. "Did Ginny ..." Ron stopped, turning a bit white. There were things about his sister he didn't want to know.
Padma looked up from the book she was reading as she lay on a chaise-lounge next to the pool. She looked annoyed. "Not that it's any of your business, Ronald, but I did that." She smirked. "It's what happens when a man really satisfies his woman." Having sunk the knife into Ron to the hilt, Padma twisted it a bit. "You might want to talk with Harry or Bill about it." She dropped her nose back into her book.
Meanwhile, Ginny had come up behind Ron. "I faint before I can claw Harry, brother dear." Ginny smiled nastily. "And Dad's the reason Mum can do a silencing charm so well. They did have seven children, in case you missed it." Ron paled further as his jaw dropped.
Bill and Harry were pounding each other on the back and snorting. George, Lee and Fred were staring at Padma, mouths open. Angelina, Alicia and Katie were grinning. Fleur had a faint smile on her face. Hermione and Luna had fixed death-glares on Ron. Parvati looked amused.
Victoire's voice carried across the pool area in the manner children have at times. "Maman, you should talk with Grandmere then. You and Papa wake me up all the time."
Fleur turned pink, Bill and Harry resumed their pounding. The rest of the girls were all giggling. Fleur muttered a brief prayer of thanks that Gabrielle was not present.
"Muzzy," Harry called.
"Yes, Master Harry."
"Cognac for myself, Bill and Mistress Padma. Vodka for Mistress Ginny. White wine for the rest of the ladies, Scotch for Fred and George." He looked at Lee. "Bourbon for Lee. A triple firewhisky for Ron."
"Muzzy," Fleur called, "un petit vin blanc pour Victoire et un cognac pour moi, s'il vous plaît."
"Oui, Madame Fleur." Muzzy bowed slightly to Fleur, then nodded at Harry and disappeared.
Muzzy re-appeared and distributed drinks. Ron took a huge gulp of his firewhisky, then shook a bit as steam poured out of his ears.
Fleur raised her glass. "Victoire, écoutez-moi."
"Oui, Maman?"
"Touché, mon petite, c'a été très bien fait."
"Merci, Maman," Victoire said. "Quand nous passons la nuit ici, l'Oncle Harry ne me réveille pas, Maman. Peut-être vous et Papa devriez parler avec lui aussi," she observed.
Hermione spewed a fine spray of white wine across the pool deck.
Fleur turned even pinker. "Mon Dieu, vous êtes aussi mauvais que votre Tante Gabrielle."
"Oui, Maman, Tante Gabrielle m'enseigne."
Fleur went from dark pink to alabaster in a flash.
"Guillaume. Vous parlerez avec votre fille," Fleur said in a flat, even tone.
Fred and George apparated across the pool deck to stand next to Bill. A cigarette appeared in the corner of Bill's mouth, Fred and George were now dressed in the uniforms of a captaine and and a sergent-chef of the French Foreign Legion. Fred clicked a flame on a beat-up Zippo lighter, George offered Bill a blindfold. Harry got into the spirit of things and solemnly intoned "In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritu Sanctu. Amen," whilst making the sign of the cross.
"Maman, are you going to have Papa shot now?"
Fleur giggled, her good humour restored. "Not now, mon petite. Maybe later, with your Aunt Gabrielle."
"Bon, alors le Papa peut me faire un petit frère."
Bill turned pale, Fleur choked on a sip of cognac, Parvati and Padma giggled. Harry quirked an eyebrow, then waved his hand over Bill's snifter. "I believe rum is the traditional drink offered the condemned man," he said, offering Bill the snifter.
Bill took a last drag on the cigarette, stubbed it out and quaffed the rum in one gulp. "That, and a good-looking wench." He walked over to where Fleur was sitting on a chaise-lounge, hoisted her over his shoulder and headed toward the house. As he passed Fred, George and Harry with a squealing Fleur on his shoulder, he said "Black Sobranies, Calvados and a steak in the morning. No blindfold, no priest." Two steps further, Bill stopped and faced them. "Je suis le Seigneur Guillaume Weasley et je vous montrerai le cochon français comment un homme meurt."
"Muzzy," Harry called.
"Yes, Master Harry."
"Move Miss Victoire's luggage to the room two doors down from ours. After you do that, take two glasses and two bottles of Champagne to the Cursebreaker's rooms. Be discreet. Bring them supper around ..." Harry looked at his watch, "around seven. Breakfast in their rooms. Calvados and a rare steak for the Cursebreaker, a French breakfast for Madame Fleur."
"Somehow," Fred said quietly to Harry and George, "I don't think Lord William is going to show us exactly how he dies this afternoon."
Harry and George snickered, then heard Victoire's not-so-quiet comment "Pour Maman le morte petite est toujours très bruyant."
Once again, Hermione spewed a fine spray of wine across the pool area. Harry, Fred and George raised their glasses to Victoire, who nodded graciously. Padma and Parvati giggled, Ginny laughed outright. Luna gave Victoire a measured look, followed by a wink. Lee and the girls snickered, Ron looked confused.
"Never mind, Ronald," Padma called. "One of these days you'll figure it out."
Victoire giggled at her uncle.
"So what are you lot going to do about kids?" Harry asked Fred quietly.
"They're going to do exactly what we tell them, Harry," Angelina said as she came up behind them. "And Molly will probably have several fits about it."
"We may have ploughed some ground for you there," Harry offered.
"Judging from the look of your back, Padma has been doing the ploughing, Harry."
"I plough, she furrows. You're only seeing it because Padma and Ginny are brassed at Ron."
A soprano wail drifted down from the house.
"Tante Gabrielle says that if maman were more of a Veela, papa would be the one making the noises," Victoire observed. "When I am fifteen Tante Gabrielle is going to take me to the Hôtel Crillon."
"Does your grandfather know about this, Victoire?" asked Hermione.
"Oui, Tante Hermione. He says he will celebrate my fifteenth birthday on Martinique. Grandmère will not let him join le Légion Étrangère."
"Why not, Victoire?"
"Grandmère says he will try to re-take Algiers, Tante Hermione. And grandpère says that most of the generals from St. Cyr should be shot for …" Victoire paused, wrinkling her brow "for Dien Bien Phu?"
"Good a reason as any," Harry muttered.
"What's deen bean foo?" Ron asked.
"I told you we'd cursed him too many times," Fred said to George.
"It was yet another battle the Legion lost because of morons, Ron," Harry told him. "The generals that set it in motion flew off to France, leaving the men behind."
"Oh. It was a muggle war then?"
"You dropped him, didn't you?" Harry asked Fred.
"No. That was Dad. But I don't think it made much difference."
"Ginny. Not the bollocks, Lavender would get upset, I don't want deal with her at the shop when she's upset," Parvati said quietly.
"Parv..." Ginny and Padma whinged at Parvati simultaneously. Hermione and Luna levitated Ron over the middle of the pool then dropped him.
H&TG … H&TG … H&TG
French translations:
The French herein, in order:
"un petit vin blanc pour Victoire et un cognac pour moi, s'il vous plaît."
"a small white wine for Victoire and a cognac for me, please"
"Victoire, écoutez-moi."
"Victoire, listen to me."
"Oui, Maman?"
"Yes, Mum?"
"Touché, mon petite, c'a été très bien fait."
"Touche (a hit, in fencing terms), my little one, that was very well done."
"Merci, Maman," Victoire said. "Quand nous passons la nuit ici, l'Oncle Harry ne me réveille pas, Maman. Peut-être vous et Papa devriez parler avec lui aussi," she observed.
"Thank you, Mum. When we stay overnight here, Uncle Harry doesn't wake me up. Maybe you and Daddy should talk with him also."
"Mon Dieu, vous êtes aussi mauvais que votre Tante Gabrielle."
"My God, you're as bad as your Aunt Gabrielle."
"Oui, Maman, Tante Gabrielle m'enseigne."
"Yes, Mum, Aunt Gabrielle is teaching me."
"Guillaume. Vous parlerez avec votre fille,"
"William. You will speak with your daughter."
"mon petite" = "my little one"
"Bon, alors le Papa peut me faire un petit frère."
"Good, then Daddy can make me a little brother."
"Je suis le Seigneur Guillaume Weasley et je vous montrerai le cochon Français comment un homme meurt."
"I am Lord William Weasley and I will show you French pigs how a man dies."
"Pour Maman le morte petite est toujours très bruyant."
"For Mama the little death [Fr. coll. for orgasm] is always very noisy."
The Latin: "In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen"
Capitaine is a captain, commanding a company. Sergent-chef is a senior sergeant, equivalent to a platoon sergeant in the U.S army, or a gunnery sergeant in the U.S Marines, generally addressed as "chef" (chief).
Black Sobranies are a very expensive, very good English cigarette. Calvados is a brandy made from apples in Normandy, similar to apple jack, the fermented mash is distilled instead of frozen.
Dien Bien Phu: A battle fought in French Indochina (now Viet Nam) from March to May of 1954. The fortifications at Dien Bien Phu were placed to interdict supplies moving to the Viet Minh from Laos. Whilst a good idea, the French planners (all graduates of St. Cyr, their military academy) ignored the surrounding mountains. General Vo Nyugen Giap surrounded the French and hauled artillery captured in Korea up the mountains by hand and bicycle; something "les sauvages" were considered incapable of by the French geniuses. Departing by plane for France, the gilt-covered generals left the Third Regiment of the Foreign Legion to die at Dien Bien Phu.