Chapter 43

Geared Up and Good to Go.

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Reentering the bank the next day was an entirely different experience. As soon as they walk in the door they are immediately met by a grinning goblin runner and brought to a rather large hall somewhere deep underground. At least a good two hundred feet long and eighty across, with forty-foot arched ceilings. It is absolutely crawling in goblins. Thousands and thousands of them. At the far end is the goblin king, though he had assured them once that while outsiders call him that his actual title is simply 'Manager' in truth. After him relating what his rights and duties are, the two can't come up with any significant difference between the two functionally, and the sparkle in the old goblin's eye tells them that he recognizes the look they share. Finally, after a half-hour of pleasantries, the Manager of Gringotts tells them to use his actual name. Ragnok. Then he begins to explain what will be happening moving forward while Dave's new inheritance test scribbles away in the background.

"Dave Lizewski, Mindy McReady. I thank you once again for coming back to Gringotts after the dishonor we showed you yesterday. It is my hope that the following can make amends between the goblin nation and yourselves."

He clears his throat noisily.

"First, when this new inheritance test is done, it will be gone over and you will receive the worldly possessions, or if you prefer the monetary equivalents in Galleons, of anyone that fool Grimknott talked into challenging you. Every goblin in Gringotts has a vault. While I don't doubt that many of your conquests yesterday will have little to their name, a fair few of them were well off as was Grimknott himself. Between the lot, it should come to a nice amount for you to sock away for a bad cave-in recovery."

"Second, it has come to my attention that the Stone Cutting Blade you rented was used in combat to kill that basilisk we have heard of. The nation would appreciate the opportunity to hear the tale of how such a thing was done, stories of honorable combat against such a foe are what we thrive on when we have no external conflict of our own on which to settle our minds."

"Lastly, in part because of your display yesterday and also in recognition of our own disgrace and the need to make amends, we are offering you both 'Friends of Gringotts' status. This gives you access to a vault without the annual charge, as well as a reduced fee structure for bank services."

Then he smiles. His collection of broken, discolored, and sometimes missing teeth are put on display. If anything it looks even more dangerous than a standard goblin smile. They are both pretty sure that getting bit by that mouth would be a quick trip to death by some kind of massive infection within the hour.

"As an aside, I have also been informed that you are always to be considered as invited to the women's quarters for stud services in my personal clan's home caverns. I have already explained to them that you had turned this down, but much as you seem to I also am forced to toe the line with the women in my life."

He seems to find this hilarious and laughs to himself in a wheezy, ancient-sounding way for just long enough for it to get the tiniest bit awkward. Finally, he calms and speaks again.

"I do, however, have a couple of questions and requests. The first being that after seeing you fight and reading your inheritance scrolls, the nation, on the whole, is incredibly curious about this armor you claimed to have. As well as these bludgeons that you have apparently used to dispatch so many of your foes. Miss McReady, the women have asked the same of yourself. I won't make it a command, you are not my employees. But I will ask."

The two look at each other, and then after Dave shrugs Mindy turns back to the not-king-but-really-kinda-is.

"We're happy to show you our standard combat getup, but you need to understand that we use a... Basically, a magical extra-dimensional space to store it in when it isn't in use. That means we would have to use magic to retrieve our weapons in front of you." She smirks just a tiny bit. "I'm given to understand that this is a no-no around even people that don't claim to be kings."

The Manager's eyes go wide. "You mean you have access to them now? I had rather expected you would need to return another day. By all means, if you are willing we would love to see the weapons that claimed the lives of so many foes that carried the titles like thief, bandit, slaver, alien invader, and undead monstrosity."

It takes them two seconds of manipulating windows to be completely decked out. Much like the coin bags, there seems to be an automatic sizing ability that accesses their magic to perform minor transfiguration on anything they move directly from their inventory to the paper doll. Something they are enjoying quite a bit, as it means that they aren't limited to only using things that they find in their own weight class. Given that apparently, the ones responsible for their dimension-hopping have no issue with screwing with their age and size it is incredibly convenient. Mindy had even floated the idea of trying to design miniature weapons somehow, things that might be used by someone a foot tall. Just to save on space, weight, and high-end materials. They haven't followed through yet, but it is an intriguing concept.

Once again they are decked out. Dave in his black with dark-green trim, heavy leather-like synthetic materials with heavy plate over critical areas. Mindy in her similarly black but with dark purple trim, Almost the same style except for significantly lighter plates. It then takes only a flick of the wrist to use the quick-change system to arm themselves. Her with her swords, him with his morning stars.

There was a time that these armors and weapons were new-looking. Shiny. Clean. That time is now long past, though there are still decades, perhaps centuries of life left in them at the current rate of destruction if they are properly maintained. They are used, now. There are scratches and dings. Stains of blood, ichor, and other battlefield filth. They aren't costume quality pieces anymore, the Combine and the Grimm had not gone down easy.

In all, their gear now looks less like something that would be worn by an athlete or a weekend warrior and instead like tools someone planning their fourteenth invasion of hell would have been wearing for the duration of their career. Lethal. Serviceable. Easy to move in, easy to kill in, and more than enough protection to give the other guy a hard time.

The goblins love it and are talking excitedly amongst each other about the possibilities.

Filius is looking a bit worried about all of their enthusiasm.

The one goblin in the room that appears to be even older than the 'Manager' finds his eyes opening wide and leans down to speak to his boss in a quick whisper. When Ragnok looks back towards them he is looking exceedingly curious.

"Mr. Lizewski. My sage tells me that there is no magic in that equipment. More, that there was no actual magic used in its retrieval. You could have used it yesterday, as you are not allowed to carry anything in, but can make use of anything you find in there."

Dave looks at Mindy, confused. The only way that would work is if the sizing is actually done in the inventory, and the inventory itself isn't subject to things outside of it. They'll have to experiment later, that could be a hell of an advantage if they can find a way to control it. Undetectable spell setups.

Then he turns back to the manager.

"That wasn't the rules of the contest. I agreed to the contest, I'm supposed to play by the rules, isn't that how it goes? It's what I was taught, anyway."

The look of satisfaction on the old goblin's face is encouragingly horrifying.

"Are you sure you can't be convinced to marry one or more of my daughters? It would be no impediment to your relationship with McReady, I assure you."

Mindy rolls her eyes. "If they want to face me in that arena, they are welcome to my boyfriend if they can pry my weapons from my cold, dead, hands. Until then I am kinda fucking done hearing about this."

The entire hall becomes as silent as a tomb, aside from Filius' low groan. After nearly ten seconds, the manager starts to laugh. A raucous, thing that lasts more than a minute. Finally, he shakes his head, obviously still amused.

"Hang on to this one, Lizewski. Women with a fire like that in their belly are difficult to find." Then he gestures vaguely at their weapons. "With no magic involved, how are they so effective?"

Dave shrugs. "To be honest, Ragnok? We are getting pretty close to privileged information here. I don't mind telling you, but I am not so interested in everybody knowing." He glances around at the horde of goblins that are packed into the room to see the human that fought and killed more than a thousand goblins in a day honorably, without magic. "Sorry."

The manager laughs. "We are a bank as well as a nation, Dave. We understand privileged information. I have a final question for the masses and then we can retire to a more secure area."

He smirks as he leans forward.

"Just who was it that taught you two how to fight? The nation would like to offer that notable a very lucrative contract."

They look at each other, and Mindy shrugs as she turns back to the HGIC. (Head Goblin In Charge.)

"My dad taught me, and I taught Dave for the most part. A lot of his has been on-the-job training though. And our first major engagement was mutilating the cowardly jackasses that burned my dad alive. I'm afraid that you are out of luck on that one."

The tone in the room is difficult to judge. Hearing a story of a coward defeating a hero through what the Goblins are assuming is trickery is not good. A righteous vengeance though, that can get the blood flowing. In the end, Ragnok sighs as he stands.

"Unfortunate, and you have my sympathies. I know the laws in your own country will keep you busy with school for at least another four and a half years, so I won't bother you with that request. But expect to hear from me then. The nation will have a job for you, and I can promise we will make it worth your while."

Once they are sequestered away in a small meeting room albeit with armed and very nervous guards just outside the door. The two look at each other and Dave shrugs.

"Look, a lot of this is going to seem really crazy without proof. So do you know what a Pensieve is?"

Interest sparks in the old goblin's eyes.

"Indeed I do. Is that what you are offering?"

Mindy nods, turning to Filius. "You think the goblins would be happy with the highlight real we showed you, Dumbledore, and Sprout a few days ago?"

The charms professor outright laughs.

"Mindy, the goblin nation will want a copy of its own to pass down to their children's, children's, children until the end of time. Make no mistake about that. I've never even heard of a collection of sheer carnage that can compare to it."

The spark of interest in the Manager's eyes has become a roaring blaze by comparison. Dave pulls out the Pensieve and pours the memories back in from within the vial they had been kept, then adds another copy of something to the mix.

"I am actually twenty-four like the first ritual said. I died the first time at the age of twenty-two. When that happened, we got caught up in a twisted game of power run by beings that call themselves gods, and they send us where they want us to cause mayhem against the bad guys. In other dimensions. We are, in a very real sense, not from this world."

Mindy picks it up from there.

"Technically, I'm twenty. I'll add that the reason we were sent here was to shit on Voldemort's attempt at a return. Filius tells us that you destroyed the Horcrux that bitch Lestrange left in your bank? Yeah, he built a bunch of them. What's left of his soul must have been held together with glue, spit, and prayers. At this point, we're pretty sure we only have to knock over one more domino in this place before we'll be sent on. So you'll need to find somebody else in five years. We aren't going to be here." Dave nods and speaks again.

"For that reason, while we appreciate the efforts to increase our status in your nation and with the bank, they aren't likely to amount to much. If possible, we'd like to pass that along to Luna Lovegood. Our partner in the killing of the Basilisk. But we talked about it last night and we decided that since you were being upfront with us, we would be upfront with you. The chances that our descendants will be able to return the weapons you craft for us are very slim, as we will probably be in another dimension when something manages to kill us. So, we're offering these memories as both proof of what we're saying, and compensation for what won't likely be able to be returned to your people. All we can promise is that we will make your tools feared in as many dimensions as we can before death finally takes us."

The goblin lord looks to Filius incredulously, and at his quick nod, the Manager shakes his head.

"That isn't how it works. We can and will still sell you the items, and we will still expect them back. But we don't put a time limit on that return unless we can prove that it has been sold or passed on to another. So make sure you tell your children that they will need to give them back if they ever find themselves in a Gringotts, and I don't see the problem. But I thank you for being upfront about it. How long is this memory?"

Dave shrugs as a smile flits across his face.

"It's just a highlight reel, so about ten hours. I added the basilisk to it, so that's there for you. The short story is that because we had a good idea of what to expect, we set a trap. We can meet you back here for dinner if you like, the two of us really do need to get some shopping done in the alley today. Would that be acceptable?"

Shocked at the run-time, the old goblin nods.

"That would be fine. And thank you."

Filius smirks at them. "Mind if I stay here to guide Ragnok through it? Wouldn't mind seeing it again myself, to be honest."

The two smirk while Dave waves him off.

"Go nuts, we'll be around. We just want to pick up a bunch of stuff before we get shuffled out of here. If we're right about exactly what that final step will be that does it, it could happen anytime, all it requires is one idiot getting caught before we want him to be."

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Two more of the massive bulk storage that Dave is jokingly calling 'garages' are on order, they'll be delivered to the school in two days, and they pick up one they mail-ordered to be created when they walk in the shop today. Ten more of their specialized trunks a piece. Two more pensieves, one for Mindy and a second for another purpose. Three spare top-of-the-line brooms each. Two spare wands each made to the exact same criteria as the first. Talking old man Ollivander into that was a pain in the ass, but as it isn't illegal to own multiple wands, they do finally get their way despite his mumbling that they can't master the new ones properly while they have their original. Or some damn thing. It's Ollivander, the guy is about as clear as a tar pit. Multiple copies of every book in Flourish and Blotts that they can use as a skill book or contains theory that might be useful, their selection here is a lot more well thought out than last time simply because they have a much better idea of what they are doing. Twenty professional-grade rune-carving kits. A magical forge and blacksmith setup that never requires fuel. Enough potion supplies to cause the shop to close until they get in more stock. Special equipment used for tailoring clothes and armor from incredibly tough materials such as the Basilisk hide that they have, then two full trunks of other magical animal skins including a lot of dragon skin. Thirty previously cut ward stones, and a stop into a magical photographer to get a dozen high-end photos taken to give to people.

They would like to think they might be remembered when they are gone, and this seems as good an idea as any to them.

Then they make their way into London proper. Finding what they needed within the day wasn't as easy, but a few hours and a taxi hired for the day later they have managed to get a good number of more mundane skill books, four massive battery backups that were probably intended for electric vehicles that they can charge on their solar panels, copies of some utterly ridiculous number of movies and television show seasons as well as two big flat-screen televisions to play them on and three laptops a piece.

Mostly because they are expecting that finding a way to proof them against magic is going to fry a few of their toys assuming it is even possible. They don't expect huge problems as apparently the only place in Britain that is so magical it kills electronics is Hogwarts. Evidenced by the fact that muggles a block away from Diagon alley never seem to have problems.

A trip to a more industrial area in the city nets Dave a few tons of weapon and armor grade steel in various alloys as well as a good selection of shop equipment that can run on the big batteries. Enough to realistically be able to do at least some of the things they did on Remnant, all laid out in one of the garages along with the forge. Then they stocked the room with other raw materials in the form of hardwoods, glues, extra blades and gasses for the various pieces of equipment, and finally at Mindy's insistence, what she needed to cast their own bullets and enough materials to win a small war with it if she needed to.

Though it must be said that she is also looking into a runic setup that, once calibrated, can accurately recreate ammo simply by placing an example in the bottom of a modified magazine and having it continually refill every time it empties. She doesn't want to risk any of their 'good' guns on the experiment, but they have a truly ridiculous number of the Combine pistols that could be sacrificed to get the rune scheme correct, so that is the plan currently.

Finally, and getting close to the ten-hour mark, they make it back to Diagon to get one last thing that Mindy decides is absolutely required. Manifests for every space expansion bit of storage they have that will self-update once they are tied to a given storage item.

Tired and quite a bit poorer, they find themselves thankful that the Acromantula bits sale tomorrow and the windfall from Gringotts should be enough between the two to make up for the fact they just blew through all the profit from the Basilisk, and then a bit more besides.

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Dave shakes his head as he opens the box that got delivered to the school three days later. After seeing their memories, Ragnok had decided that if Gringotts was going to be backing inter-dimensional superheroes, they were going to go all the way with it. So in addition to extras on everything they actually ordered, he'd footed the bill himself to produce copies of all the non-firearm weapons they were already using based on the memories that they had chosen not to return with the Pensieve. At the bottom of the note that comes with what they receive is a simple request that in their daring-do should anyone ask where they got their tools the answer is simply: 'The forges of Gringotts.'

He passes the note over to Mindy and she smirks at what she is seeing.

"Talked to Babbling finally yesterday, she made it back to the castle to prep for the students coming back in two days. She's pretty interested in giving us a hand, but I had to get Filius to back me up on keeping it a secret. Even had to show her some memories so she'd understand why we should have it if we don't think anybody else should. But she's on board. What did you sort out with the Arithmancy you were screwing around with?"

He shrugs. "Not a lot. Taking an arithmancy equation and then trying to convert that back to runes is a pain. But I think I am on track to a possible rune-set that would portkey our weapons back into their sheathes if they are away from us for more than a couple of minutes. Thought it might let us use all this stuff you're making with a little less concern if we didn't have to worry about it getting out of range and then somebody wandering off with it." He sighs. "Of course, that does mean that I'll need to come up with a way to carry my maces that isn't just in my inventory, but that shouldn't be impossible."

Mindy thinks on it for a second.

"Instead of making it a timer, make it activated. Then you can just add the return runes to your palm. Probably do the same thing with my swords, honestly. I can always sheathe them once I have them back in hand anyway, but if I need them right then having to pull them out again might be a problem. Actually, might be a good idea to do that with all of them. Activation to go back to their sheath or whatever. That way we can actually loan them to allies if we need to." Then her eyes widen a bit. "Also, if we can set it up so that a reusable portkey will auto-target the spot a few feet in front of ourselves, not only could we use it to rescue each other from crazy bullshit, but we could set up a few we could use to pull friends out of the shit." She shakes her head. "That's for later though, we need the basics first."

Dave is looking in confusion at the shield they sent him as he is pulling it out of the box.

It's not the design they had requested. They had specified a single round piece of steel with a razor-sharp edge that they intend to use a sticking charm rune scheme to attach and remove from the armor in the correct spot. This instead has a standard grip on it and the edge on it has more of a chisel grind than a normal blade one. Infinitely stronger, but more of a battering weapon than a blade in a lot of ways. That said, there is also an inset blade on the outside of it that looks not unlike a four-point throwing star with individual blades that are nine inches long each. The whole thing is two feet from one pointy end to another. It also falls out easily by simply turning over the shield.

It has a note on it.

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Mr. Lizewski.

When I explained your reasoning to my smiths, they decided they liked the concept but thought your application was flawed. Not holding the handle for it in your hand would deny you too much utility and control. This was compounded with their disgust that you would design a defense intended for throwing it away. Instead, they came up with this. Use your sticking charm rune concept on the outside of the shield within the groove cut in it and then you will have a suitable thrown weapon of a similar size to what you requested without sacrificing your defense.

Incidentally, thank you for the idea. Our runemasters and weapon smiths haven't had this much fun in years. We are hopeful we can roll out some prototypes to our own security within a few months.

We'd never considered toggle-enabled sticking charms on weapons before. The possibilities are intriguing.

Use it in good health, and if you don't like it please don't bother to come here and complain about it. Mastercraftsman are insufferable at times, and I promise you I have already tried every argument that could be attempted to get you what you originally ordered.

Ragnok.

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Wordlessly, he hands the note to Mindy who has been inspecting her 'spearheads' and generally seeming pleased with what she finds. After reading it, she looks at what they sent and nods with a grin.

"Well, I can't say they're wrong. And what's here should work pretty damn well. Plus, the thrown part still has quite a bit of heft to it, so it should still do plenty of damage. I also like having the blades of it hidden when you are bashing or blocking things. Should keep them from getting broken or dull too fast. Heading down to work it out with babbling in about ten minutes, gimme your notes and I'll see what we can do."

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As it turns out, what they can do is a lot.

By the time the students are due to be back on the express, they have worked out a system where Mindy is able to use two sheaths, one on each thigh, for the spearheads turned flying short swords. She can only manipulate one at a time, but her fine control of it is far better than they had thought it would be. The maximum accurate range, where she is able to consistently hit the bullseye on a target is only eighty yards. But she can get within a foot of that at up to a hundred and twenty, and after passing through the target it will sink its entire foot length into a three hundred pound block of oak placed behind it at a top speed of about two hundred and thirty miles an hour. The portkey can bring it back to the sheathe at will without bringing anything else with it, and the goblins came through on making the things just this side of indestructibly hard while keeping them from being in any way brittle. In fact, having to use dragon's teeth tooltips to do any rune carving on this stuff is a recurring theme across the board.

Her swords will pop back to her palms, and the goblins were so enamored with the rope dart that they saw her use in the memory that they made her spare using goblin-approved materials. Primarily making the rope part of the weapon out of braided together dragon skin that is ten times the strength of what the fabricators at Black Mesa East could manage and has been enchanted to heal itself should it take any kind of damage. Even to the point of growing back together when severed if the ends are pressed against each other.

Dave's throwing star off the shield is a lot slower at only a hundred and fifty, and it didn't bury itself in the oak. It did, however, split the thing almost in half and send the mess careening against the wall of the RoR until he'd realized things were going off script and regained control of it. The odd shape and the fact that his eyes aren't as good as hers since she picked up her animagus form means that his accurate range where he can stick a single point into a bullseye is closer to thirty yards. But the shape of the weapon means that he can slam it into targets well enough to cause serious damage at close to eighty as long as he is willing to deal with only a fifty-fifty shot that it will nail a target point first.

He does get the portkey ability on the morning stars that he was looking for as well, which it must be said makes him rather pleased.

The last thing they do is finish Luna's hair sticks as a Christmas gift to go with the photos they are planning to give her. At only seven inches long, average for hair sticks, they aren't very big. But that just means that they go extremely fast, clocked at close to two hundred and fifty miles an hour. As she doesn't wear armor they could be tied to they are controlled through bracelets that Dave forged, and was then were enchanted to shrink down or grow larger for easy removal without needing to be concerned that they would fall off. The last bit they did with them is to include a color change charm in them that is toggle enabled. They are both enchanted for strength but a simple metal, albeit a very strong weapon-grade steel, and they usually look it. But one can turn the neon purple of Mindy's Aura at will, and the other the neon green of Dave's.

She is thrilled to receive them, and tears pour from her face. It would seem that other than her father, and mother before she died? She had never received a Christmas present before now. And now? She has received three including what Pomona and Flitwick had sent her. Books, in both instances. But still special to her.

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The evening the day after the arrival of the train, they are approached at dinner by a visibly distraught Dumbledore. He passes them a note before he turns silently to go back to his seat. They look at each other in confusion and after a few seconds, Dave opens it up to take a look.

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Dearest students.

It is to my great regret that I am forced to tell you that things have been taken out of my hands. I do not know what could have happened to change things, what butterfly effect could have caused it. I suspect it is connected to the release of Sirius Black, and backlash against the man from many quarters because of it. But Barty Crouch Sr. has been arrested. He will be in ministry holding cells until the sixteenth, eleven days from now when he will go to trial for crimes against the ministry of one sort or another, at which point I have little doubt the subject of his son will come up under truth serum. In truth, it hardly matters that this would be the case. The spell he is using to control his son cannot be maintained for more than four or five days without being refreshed, no matter the strength of the caster. This means that I will be forced to let Amelia Bones know that there is a possible problem at the Crouch estate no later than tomorrow morning early, as I have no way of knowing when it was last cast.

As given our belief that these circumstances would make today your last full day here, I am officially excusing the three of you from classes, that you may enjoy yourselves as you may see fit.

It is my hope that you can forgive an old man that didn't see the tightening of the noose on Crouch before it was far too late to stop things. I leave it up to you whether or not to tell anyone else that you will be leaving, as I do not know if you are the type of person to make a big deal of departing or not. Know that you will always be welcome at Hogwarts if at any point your duties bring you back to our realm. Good luck, and I will echo Pomona just this once and ask you to please, be careful.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

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After the two read it they pass it off to Luna, rather subdued. The three then get up and leave the table. Getting the nod from Mindy to go ahead, Dave taps Harry Potter on the shoulder as he walks by, and motions the boy to follow him.

Harry doesn't make it to a class that day. Instead, and much to what will no doubt become the annoyance of Dumbledore when he finds out, he spends the day watching eight movies in a Pensieve. Having timed it, when the boy is done they are cuddling on the couch and it is approaching dinner time. He looks emotionally wrung out as he looks at them.

"Are you from the future? Is that going to happen, somehow?"

Mindy shakes her head.

"No, we aren't from the future. We're from another dimension. And that is what might have happened. We have wrecked things significantly, so unless we missed something you should be alright. But we're also likely to be gone soon. So I wanted to make sure that you knew. Sirius Black is your godfather, just like in the movie. He's the one you should be living with now that he's out, and don't let Dumbledore or anybody else tell you differently."

She sighs. "As you know, we killed the basilisk. What you may not have known without watching all that is that Ginny was responsible for the release of it this time too if you can call being mind raped into submission a thing someone could be responsible for. We refused to let it get nearly as far this time. There may or may not be some things that stay the same in your future. You may be hosting the Tri-Wizard tournament. You may end up getting some interference from Umbridge at some point. Draco may still be an epic douche. The reality is that we have no way of knowing what will come about because we have changed so much. But there is one thing that you desperately need to get into your thick skull and get it in really well right now."

She pauses for a moment, trying to decide how to move forward. Finally, she shrugs.

"Those movies may no longer tell you what will be, but they will probably still do a pretty good job of telling you who people really are. And in your case, there is an enormous cross-section of Wizarding Britain that would throw a party if they heard you had been hit by a bus and killed. There are people here that are good, and reliable, and worth being your ally. But there is a lot of worthless jackasses here too, and because of all of this you are going to have to push yourself to be one hell of a fighter, or I don't see you making it to twenty. Without the spectacle of Voldemort literally dying to your wand, these supporters of his won't fear you like they should."

Sighing, she leans back. "Keep the Pensieve and the memories. Watch them a couple of times. Really get a feel for who you can count on and what you need to do to get better. Then make it happen."

She turns to her right and left, not sure what else she needs to say or do, and then the choice is taken from her as she can see Dave starting to break down into little motes of light that fly off and fade away. Sighing, she turns to the one they are leaving behind.

"Take care, Luna. You'll always be our sister, and if we can ever make it back, we will."

Then they are gone.

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Dave sighs as he takes in the look on the black man's face. The same one they always see. He can hear Mindy off to his left and stifles his questions while she speaks.

"Really?! Right then, you couldn't have waited until we weren't sitting right next to her? Jackass. Fucking jackass."

The black man shakes his head, and while sadness etches his features, his voice is still firm.

"I am sorry. For what it's worth, had you not gotten that note from the Headmaster, We wouldn't have had to pull you. In truth, there is still half of a dozen Death Eaters that will try to resurrect their leader when they hear of it. Crouch Jr. was a minor issue as far as we were concerned."

Mindy is silent for a moment and then she sighs.

"Potter, then."

The man nods. "You got it in two, but unfortunately that caused you to make one mistake that we couldn't deal with and had to pull you. Though I doubt Potter will complain if he ever puts it together."

He pauses for a moment as if trying to decide whether or not to continue speaking. Then he shrugs and seems to get an attitude that it wouldn't matter anyway and keeps going.

"The Weasleys will always factor into the boy's life. But when you told him that he needed the best friends and to get his ass in gear, well, our estimations are that he'll latch onto the only three in the movies that never treated him differently than anyone else, never left him, never betrayed him, and never turned down a chance to help, even if it wasn't requested. One was in the room when you left. The second is Hermione Granger. And the third is Neville Longbottom. What their futures hold past maybe fifth year is anybody's guess, as you've changed so much that long-range predictions are worthless. But doing that spun things off into a direction where there are three wearing a time turner next year, and Luna doesn't bother only because she could more than likely pass her O.W.L.s now if she really wanted to, and in almost all subjects."

He stops talking to glance at the floor for just a moment, and then raises his eyes and his voice betrays just a bit of a smirk.

"I don't have a lot of time before I need to send you on, but I did hear through the grapevine something that I thought you might like to know. Butterfly? She's up to fourteen spots in her party, and despite being a minimum of five years under the age anybody ever thought a person could possibly be admitted, she will be starting Beacon in a few weeks as the first-ever Huntress General. Three full groups plus her mother and the woman I mentioned before that you saved by how you left. They are going to be a power that will rock that world, make no mistake. She thinks of you both often, and is desperately trying to make Remnant a place that you will want to stay when you return."

Mindy is gritting her teeth as her eyes begin to water, agonizing over what she imagines the poor Faunus is likely doing to herself to make that dream a reality.

"I hate you so much."

The man nods slowly, his face downcast.

"I know. And for what it's worth, I am sorry that you can't be there for her. Sorry that you can't stay with Luna. But the die you cast when you agreed to this came up snake eyes, and until you can work out how to recast it there is little that I can do."

He suddenly looks to the right and waves at them as if in a hurry now.

"Time to go. Good luck."

And then things once again fade to black.

And sometime later, she once again beats him awake. In another white room. With machines that beep and sticky things attached to her. On the plus side, at least Dave is on the second bed in the room.

But other than him and the general suspicion that she is once again in a hospital, she has absolutely no idea where the fuck she is.

Same shit. Different day.

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TLS TLS TLS TLS TLS TLS

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Author's note:

Sorry guys. I actually kinda had intended for a couple more chapters, but I got to this point and realized that it would have been two or three more chapters to basically cover what this chapter did. Granted, this chapter was a tad rushed. Basically, just them loot whoring. Oh, there were a few oddball things that might have made it in if I stretched it out one more chapter. Catching Skeeter in her beetle form spying on the basilisk slayers, or a chance to kick one of the Malfoy males in the balls. But in the end, it would have been filler.

Filler at the end of a story arc. After I really put thought into it I realized doing so would have been about as worthless as tits on a boar as far as moving the story along or entertaining anybody goes. So... Moving on.

This one I am guessing will be three to four chapters and is one nobody has requested except me. And please remember that while I am not on death's door by any means, I am old enough that when I start dipping into my own nostalgia it tends to careen all the way back to the eighties and then get lost staring at all the crap that if I were to watch it for the first time now I'd probably change the channel.

I like to think I get a vote though, so stay tuned and we'll see how it goes.

Reviews are welcome, and thanks for reading!