Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl. Chapter 21: Last Minute Tours and Preparations.
DISCLAIMER: At the risk of being repetitive, I wish to state that JK Rowling created Harry Potter and that Glen Eichler created Daria. I own neither franchise and I have no intention of financially profiting from this work. I'm writing this story to amuse myself. I hope you're amused, too.
Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl
A hotel near Charing Cross Road
London, UK
Thursday August 30th, 1990
Jake:
Jake awoke early the next morning. My biological clock must have reset to London time, he thought bemusedly. He went to the bathroom, used the commode, then shaved and showered. He went back into the bedroom and changed into daywear.
The kiddo awoke an hour after he did. She acted very upset.
"What is it, Daria?" he said.
"Dad, I don't know how to tell you this but I think we screwed up," she said. "We really need to get moving. I haven't washed up or packed yet and we need to get to King's Cross Station by 10:30. The train leaves at 11:00."
Jake smiled and gave a sigh of relief. Helen had scolded him more than once for losing track of the dates and the time. He was glad to see wasn't the only one in the family who could do that.
"Relax, Smidget," he said. "It's Friday. We've still got a full day to do some more sight-seeing and then check at that Madam Malkin's place this afternoon to see if your robes are ready."
"Oh," said Daria, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, Dad."
"It happens," said Jake.
"Have you washed up yet?" she said.
"I went to the bathroom and showered while you were still sleeping," he said.
"I need to shower and dress," said Daria.
"I'll wait for you downstairs," said Jake.
Jake went downstairs while Daria freshened up and dressed. He had already eaten and was on his second cup of coffee when she came down. She looked like she was ready to play tourist.
"Good morning, kiddo," he said.
"Good morning, Dad," said Daria. "Sorry to be so bothered this morning."
"No sweat," said Jake. "What do you want to do today?
"I want to see the Tower of London and the British Museum," Daria replied.
"Sounds cool," said Jake.
-(((O-O)))—
Jake asked the clerk at the hotel's front desk about getting to the Tower and learned that there was a boat tour that they could use to get there. The tour had a one-way option he and Daria could use to get to the Tower, take their own time about seeing it, then use a taxi or public transport to return to their hotel.
The two of them took a taxi west to the tour boat's dock and bought last-minute tickets. For a little while it looked like they wouldn't be able to sit together, but a pair of side-by side seats became available when a party of no-shows failed to appear. The tour boat's captain chose not to wait. The mooring lines were undone and the boat cast off towards the Thames.
Jake marveled at the sites along the way. This was the way to travel: neither he nor Helen had seen London from the river when they'd visited London in 1978: they'd had little over a day and a half and had had to watch their money. The tour boat sailed by the HMS Victory, the World War II cruiser HMS Belfast, the Houses of Parliament and London Bridge. The Victory and the Belfast were both fascinating and Jake wondered how the sailors were able to stand months at sea in cramped, dangerous conditions. Daria was less taken and gazed at the sights in polite interest instead of wide-mouthed wonder. Then again, the kiddo was a girl, Jake reminded himself.
The tour boat eventually docked at a pier a bit east of the Tower. Jake heard Daria join the mostly teen-aged chorus of "Awws" of disappointment when the tour guide informed them that they wouldn't be entering by means of the Water Gate, the opening in the Tower's walls for traitors and prisoners brought there for torture and execution.
Jake later remembered his tour of the Tower as a mixture of fascination and horror. The Tower of London had once been the seat of the kings of England, then later as a visible center of royal might as the kings moved into palaces in London and elsewhere. Both he and the Smidget were awed by the crowns and the royal jewels and Jake was fascinated by the weaponry in the Armory, so much so that he had to admit that his time at Buxton Ridge still had its effects.
His daughter's reactions to some of the history and artifacts of the Tower were a little disturbing. Just seeing the infernal devices used to torture and execute prisoners made him shiver but Daria wore her Mona Lisa smile while the tour guides described the grisly fates of such famous prisoners as Anne Boleyn, Lady Jane Grey, and Sir Walter Raleigh and speculated about the fate of the two little princes during the final year of the War of the Roses. He saw that she was fascinated by a couple of the torture devices on display and guessed that she probably would have asked questions as to how they worked if a couple of teenaged boys hadn't asked them first.
At one point he saw Daria stop at nothing, say "Good morning," then mysteriously scowl and say "Well be that way, then!" She then blew a raspberry at whatever-it-was that only she could see. He remembered Helen telling him that both she and Daria could see ghosts. Helen usually ignored hers, but he wondered what this was about.
He decided to ask her. "What was that about, Daria?" he asked.
"A ghost," said Daria, her scowl replaced by a frown. "I tried to be polite but was told to "Get Lost" Elizabethan-style. So I blew her a raspberry." (1)
Jake chuckled. The kiddo's response was funny but disturbing, but still funny.
Their visit ended shortly after he'd managed to get pictures of himself and Daria posed next to a couple of the Beefeaters, older men drawn from the ranks of the British and Commonwealth militaries who served as ceremonial guardians of the Tower and of the Royal Jewels.
Daria had learned that the Yeoman Warders had a Ravenmaster and wondererd if the Tower's ravens could deliver messages like the one who'd delivered a letter to her Dad the day before. (2)
-(((O-O)))—
The two of them returned to their hotel not by water but by bus. While Jake had enjoyed the trip to the Tower he also preferred to do some of his sight-seeing without constantly-chattering tour guides.
It was now the early afternoon. Neither he nor Daria had eaten lunch. Jake wondered what time it was and realized that it was still relatively early in Helen's work day. He resolved to call her after he and Daria got back from another trip to Diagon Alley.
He decided to try the Leaky Cauldron's cooking again. Despite the fact that magic could make him uncomfortable, he did enjoy its atmosphere.
"Say kiddo," said Jake. "How would you like lunch at the Leaky Cauldron?"
"I'd love it," said Daria.
-(((O-O)))—
Daria and Jake walked over to the Leaky Cauldron. Jake had accepted that Daria could see the entrance to the Cauldron and he couldn't, so he let her find the entrance and contented himself with holding the door open so that she could go in. He then followed her inside.
The pub was crowded with a lot of frantic parents and their wizarding children: neither Daria nor Cuthbert were going to be the only students setting off for Hogwarts in the morning, and parents from all over the British Isles were making last-minute purchases in Diagon Alley.
Service was slow but Jake was able to flag down a bar maid and ordered fish and chips. A memory bobbed up to the surface from his previous trip to Britain: he and Helen had had something he thought was called "Buttered Beer" while they were staying there and he decided to ask if these guys had some.
He had just taken his second sip and started feeling nostalgic when Martha Haddaway threaded her way through the crowd and over to his table and said "Jake, Daria, there you are! I was afraid that I'd missed you and that you wouldn't be back from your wanderings until evening!"
"We thought we'd have lunch and then swing by Mrs. Malkin's place to see if Daria's clothing is ready," said Jake.
Martha sighed in surprise and relief. Mr. Morgendorffer tended to be high-strung and emotional but it was clear that he was tending to business. Arcturus Black would be pleased.
"So shouldn't you finish up so we can go to Madam Malkin's and pick up your daughter's things?" asked Martha.
Jake rolled up his sleeve and looked at his wrist-watch. "It's only a quarter to three," he replied. "We've still got a little time before they close, don't we? Want some chips? We have plenty."
Martha opened her mouth, then closed it. Abashed, she sat down. "I'll have a couple," she said.
-(((O-O)))-
Martha, Jake, and Daria were through the brick archway leading to Diagon Alley before the quarter hour and at Madam Malkin's shortly after that. The shop was a mad-house and it took both Jake's and Martha's efforts to first attract the attention of one of Madam Malkin's harried assistants and then get Daria's robes from wherever Madam Malkin or her assistants had stored them. Nor were they able to make a simple exit once they had Daria's robes and hat in hand. Madam Malkin's assistant insisted that Daria try on her robes before she'd allow her to accept delivery and Jake was pressed into service as a de-facto coat rack while Daria tried them on.
Jake had hoped to take a couple of pictures of Daria in her new outfit but realized that he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Not just Madam Malkin's but the area around it was just too crowded and he wouldn't be able to get a good shot of her without someone inserting their back or their side into the picture while he was pressing the shutter button.
"Well I'm glad that part's over!" said Martha. "How is Daria set for cash?"
Jake frowned. He hadn't really thought about it.
"She'll need some," said Martha. "While she might spend the winter break at Hogwarts, some one like your Fink-Nottle friends might invite her to spend her break with them instead of rattling around the Castle all by herself."
"Well, Helen and I do have accounts at McGillicuddy National Bank," said Jake. "They have British affiliates in London, Birmingham, and Edinburgh. In an emergency, Daria can get money from them." (3)
"That might work in the Muggle world," said Martha, "but I think she'll need an ample supply of wizarding coin."
"Let's go back to your hotel with these robes," said Martha. "You don't want to lose them in Gringott's."
"How?" said Jake. Martha smiled. Mr. Morgendorffer's mindset was still firmly planted in the Muggle world.
They returned to the hotel, walked up to Jake's and Daria's room, and dropped the robes on Daria's bed.
"I know this looks like a bother, but you'll see," said Martha.
The three of them crossed Charing Cross Road, passed through the Leaky Cauldron, then started walking towards Gringotts' Bank. "So how much is enough?" said Jake. His Dad had shipped him off to Buxton Ridge with no more than thirty dollars of cash. That would have proved inadequate, even if he hadn't had his meager reserve "confiscated" during a cadet inspection during his first or spent several miserable years following confined to campus.
He and Martha agreed on a figure. Daria looked skeptically at both of them and said "Hey, Dad, don't I get a say?"
"Not for this," said Jake. "Next year."
They got in line behind several wizarding families who also wanted access to their accounts. It took them a while to make their way to the head of the line and for Jake and Daria to learn about the difference between Goblin and Muggle banking. Jake and Daria learned that not only did Daria already had a vault in her name, but that he and Daria had to take a cart through a long series of tunnels to get to it.
To his surprise, he realized that in spite of the darkness and creepiness of the ride, he actually enjoyed it. He hadn't been on a roller coaster in years: this trip made him think of some of the roller coaster rides he'd taken with his older brother before his brother had left the house. He hadn't ridden in one since he'd married Helen; he'd taken Helen on a couple of rides while they were courting and she'd hated them.
The cart slowed down to a stop in front of a vault. The Goblin bank clerk, a dark-haired guy with sharp teeth and claws instead of fingernails named Dirk, asked him for his lamp and vault key. As Dirk was unlocking the vault, Jake remembered that there was an amusement park near Abilene and wondered if either of his other two girls would like to try out a roller-coaster ride when he got home. Quinn probably wouldn't, but an image of Veronica grinning and squealing with delight formed in front of him.
Veronica was still only five, he remembered. She'd have to wait a couple more years.
The Goblin unlocked the vault door. Jake walked over and started gathering a couple of stacks of coins. Martha, Jake, and Daria left Gringotts with a couple of money-pouches filled with coins.
"There, that should do it," said Martha. "You'll be ready to go to King's Cross tomorrow morning so Daria can board the train."
-(((O-O)))—
They returned to the hotel, Daria's wizarding cash clinking in their pockets.
The clerk waved him over as he passed the front desk. "Mr. Morgendorffer," she said, "you have a message." She handed him an envelope. It was from Helen.
Jake stepped out into the hall and opened it while Daria was washing up before dinner.
"Jake," it read.
"They settled. I wish they'd done it earlier so I could be with you when you put Daria on the train tomorrow. I am coming over anyway; AB sounds like he wants face-time with both of us; I'll arrive on Saturday afternoon and I'll meet you at your hotel.
"Quinn and Ronnie will be fine. The Nanny will watch both of them during the Labor Day weekend.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't get away sooner. Two nights in London isn't nearly enough.
"I hope we can meet AB before we both head back for home.
"Love you,
Helen."
-(((O-O)))—
Footnotes:
The ghost said "Aroint thee, Witch!" CF William Shakespeare, Macbeth.
The Tower of London really does have a Ravenmaster. No, they aren't used to carry messages; their wings are clipped and they can't fly. Eleven year-old Daria guessed wrong.
I stole the name McGillicuddy from a famous I Love Lucy episode. I suspect that some Texas McGillicuddy forebear decided that banking among the ranches and oil fields of West Texas was safer than remaining home.
A dirk is a long thrusting dagger and also a traditional side-arm for Scottish Highlanders. I thought that having a Goblin named Dirk would be cool.