For the first time since being sent off to military school, Lal was spending her summer in Surrey. She had a pretty good idea why, too.
Her eleventh birthday was coming up, and that meant the Hogwarts letters would be sent. On the plus side, Vernon was a lot less vicious towards her after she came home with several recommendations for secondary academies which could easily translate into military service straight out of high school.
Dudley had also learned very quickly not to complain about his 'freakish' cousin getting into officer training while he had been demoted into the general courses. Sure, it meant the teachers liked her more than him, but the general courses were a lot less restrictive and he had more time to goof off, even if he still wasn't able to bully the other students like he wanted.
Though the one time Dudley tried to bully his cousin, Lal made very sure he wouldn't repeat his error by breaking his arm using her 'new' martial arts training to kick his ass.
She had gone from a timid wallflower to an absolute demon only idiots would cross, and she hammered that lesson home with a carefully controlled dose of killing intent that had Dudley pissing his pants in fear of her.
All in all she was very pleased with the ways things had turned out. So when the Hogwarts letters came and she saw the pinched expression on her aunt's face, she made sure to make a rather pointed commentary on how ridiculous the entire letter sounded.
"Witchcraft and Wizardry, really? Where are the English and science books? Where is the math and basic economic texts? What sort of backwater school lacks even the most basic of basic textbooks required for a real education?" said Lal loudly in disgust. She skimmed down further, though she already knew what it said. "Robes? Are we expected to walk around in bathrobes or something? It doesn't even say where to get the materials for class!"
Seeing the expression on Petunia's face, Lal knew she was earning brownie points with her aunt.
"And really, what sort of school relies on messenger birds," said Lal in disdain. "Am I supposed to hold out my arm and expect a trained owl to show up?"
Petunia's looked distinctly satisfied at the way her niece picked apart the ridiculousness of the same school that had taken her sister. It was clear Lilac wanted nothing to do with it, and would almost certainly rather join a more advanced military school instead.
Still for the sake of humoring the idiots, Lal wrote a distinct "No thank you" letter. She made it clear she wasn't about to bother with such frivolity when she would rather put her energy into more useful pursuits.
So you could imagine how furious Petunia was when McGonagall showed up in person, to "explain" things to the girl and try to convince her to attend Hogwarts.
Once again, Lal surprised her aunt.
"Ms. McGonagall, while I am not surprised magic exists, I see absolutely no reason to attend such a backwards school. There wasn't a single real textbook on the list, let alone any directions to where I am supposed to buy such materials or how I am supposed to reach the school in question. Never mind the fact I had very little ability to send a return letter to the ones running it save to hope that a trained bird would appear to carry off the letter," said Lal patiently and flatly.
"It's Professor," said McGonagall crisply. "And what do you mean there were no real textbooks on the list? It's the same one handed out to the first year students for the past ten years!"
Lal reached into the book she had stashed her letter into.
"And yet there isn't a single phone number to contact the school or tell the parents how to reach their children. I also don't see any science, math, English or god forbid a proper world history text on the list of books, to say nothing of the required wardrobe. No real school requires robes these days, and I see nothing indicating a physical education course," said Lal crisply. "And you have yet to show any proof that you are a legitimate teacher or hold any real credentials."
Petunia was quietly smug as her niece ripped apart the older woman's attempts to convince her to attend Hogwarts.
"There are no phones in Hogwarts. Mail is sent out by owl and there are a few Floo connections that reach outside the school," said McGonagall.
"I'm almost afraid to ask if there's even a proper internet connection in this...school."
"I have no idea what this intra-net thing is, but if it requires electricity then I'm afraid you'll have to do without," said McGonagall.
Lal's expression said volumes.
"I believe we're done here. Good day madam, and please don't come back," said Lal flatly.
McGonagall looked somewhat taken aback by the girl's behavior. Normally muggleborn were quite eager to learn about magic, if only to control their new abilities and find out what else they could do.
"What about your inheritance?" she blurted out.
"My what?" said Lal, pretending to be baffled.
McGonagall cast a glance at Petunia and seized upon a chance to hopefully change the girl's mind.
"Your parents, particularly your father, left an inheritance behind for you. However in order to claim it you would have to visit the bank, as it's inaccesible to muggles," said McGonagall.
Lal had a look of irritation on her face.
"This sort of information would have been useful to know, especially since no one bothered to tell me how I was supposed to access the bank, much less contact the school with my reply!"
McGonagall flinched at the accusations. The simple fact was that she had no way of countering it.
A short time later...
Lal was deeply unimpressed with Diagon this go around. Though she did feel immense satisfaction when she broke one wizard's wrist the moment the customers in the Leaky Cauldron tried to swarm her a second time.
"Is it normal for grown men and women to swarm an eleven year old girl?" she asked icily. "I find it deeply disturbing that you people think it's acceptable to crowd a child like that."
The glare she gave made most of them back off, though it was nothing compared to the disapproving expression on McGonagall's face.
"I apologize for that, Ms. Potter, they should have known better," she said curtly.
Lal kept her opinions quiet. There was no doubt in her mind that if McGonagall knew how low her actual opinion was of the magical community, it would have made her weep.
Then again, Lal had hated the magical community ever since she discovered what sheep they were. They simply weren't worth saving in her opinion.
The trip to the bank was informative...just not in the way McGonagall would have liked.
At the very least if she knew the thought process of the child next to her, she would have been terrified to be in the same country, much less the same vicinity as her.
Lal took one look at her gold, remembered all the shit the Goblins put her through last time because of the war and the fact they broke into the place, and had to hide the evil grin on her face.
She never really got to enjoy her gold last time, after all. What with all the fees and shit the goblins kept trying to tack on as punishment for breaking in.
Well that and she didn't know the fun of blowing shit up using HE rounds and C4.
She was soooo abusing her trust fund to get a proper munitions cave set up that she could carry around. She had heard things about Newt Scamander's infamous case and she wanted one for herself...just with heavy artillery and a shit ton of guns, just to start.
"Aren't you a little young to be buying alcohol?" asked the homeless man she approached.
"That depends. Are your morals too upright to buy an eleven year old mass quantities of booze, some of which you can keep to yourself on top of the 'extra' cash I'm giving you so that you can get a decent meal?"
"...How much did you say you wanted again?" said the homeless man with respect.
"I only want the cheap stuff that only idiots would drink that is mass produced. If you have a preferred brand feel free to slip it in the bill," said Lal.
"I like you already brat. Any reason for the booze?"
"I'm going to be teaching children how to make Molotav cocktails and spreading chaos, anarchy and destruction in a boarding school... well that and introducing idiots to alcohol to recoup what I spent, since they're too young to know what the good shit is," admitted Lal.
Gryffindors would buy anything alcoholic.
The homeless man went into the liquor store and brought back quite a bit of booze...though one bag he kept for himself. Lal made sure to pay him very well, enough to keep him fed for months if he paced it right along with more booze.
"Pleasure doing business with you," said the homeless man with a grin.
"Take care of yourself. If you stick around here I'll be back next year to buy more."
The man saluted her with his newly acquired bottle of bourbon, and was pleasantly surprised when she saluted back like a proper soldier would.
Clearly she was a military brat who recognized him as a former soldier down on his luck.
In another part of London...
"Aren't you a little young to be buying this sort of ordinance?"
"Really? An American is going to complain about the fact that an eleven year old is going to be using heavy ordinance against idiots and so called 'reformed' terrorists too stupid to know what a gun is, let alone a claymore?"
"...How much did you say you wanted again?" said the American arms dealer.
Lal Mirch's grin was almost as big as the dollar signs in the man's eyes when he realized how much the girl was planning to buy.
"Oh and before I forget..." said Lal.
She immediately pulled him down to eye level, an unholy gleam of barely repressed violence in her gaze.
"You try to turn me into the cops and I will make your name dirt among arms dealers. Help me create the largest privately owned collection of firearms, explosives and any number weapons that would make the law nervous in the hands of a private citizen and you'll find me a generous customer. Turn me into the cops and I'll happily track your arse down and insure there's not enough left of you to fill a bottlecap, much less a matchbox."
The American sweated for a moment, before he had to ask.
"Why do you want so much weaponry anyway?"
"Long story I just came into my inheritance, and nothing tells people to shut up and follow orders like tap dancing from being shot at. Besides, I want to get a head start on several people who have screwed me over, such as a hippie pacifist who thinks it's better to 'reform' a terrorist rather than filling him with enough hot lead that metal detectors will find him in a shallow grave."
He twitched.
"Did you say a hippie pacifist was letting terroristsgo, rather than brutally murdering them?"
"Neo-Nazi terrorists that come from old blood, old money and not a lot of sense following a hypocrite."
"...Muggleborn?" he asked cautiously.
"Half-blood."
"I have only one question. Are you taking this shit to Hogwarts?"
"I'm going to gather an army of minions and start off with teaching them the basics of how to make a Molotav cocktail before easing them into turning Death Eaters for target practice. That is, in between supplimenting my armament fund by selling some of the cheap booze to the Gryffindors."
"Can I interest you in some 'decommissioned' guns and explosives as well as the owl addresses of several like minded weapon's developers all too happy to unleash their unstable creations into the magical enclaves in exchange for funding/volunteers for their weapons?"
Lal's eyes gleamed.
"Do you have a catalog?" she asked hopefully.
"Several," confirmed the American cheerfully. "And may I say it's a pleasure doing business with such a delightful and charming young woman such as yourself."
"Bullshit. You're just glad to find a fellow gun nut who has no problem with wanton death and destruction in a country where guns are almost impossible to get in civilians hands."
"Well yeah, but the money helps too!" he cheerfully admitted.
Lal boarded the Hogwarts Express with far more enthusiasm than she did the first time she saw it.
Vernon was surprisingly fine with her existence in the house when she calmly informed them that the only reason she was going to Hogwarts at all was because she didn't want to lose her inheritance. The Ministry and the Goblins had made it clear that unless she attended school for five years, she wouldn't be allowed to inherit anything more than her trust vault. And that was only because she was a woman.
The Dursleys might hate magicals, but after seeing the gold coin she casually dropped on the table they agreed to table their dislike of magic because Lal wasn't above bribing them to ignore her very existence save to sign any documents and to insure she got into a military high school later.
It was probably a good thing her newly design armory was in her brand new expanded suitcase. Apparently Scamander had made the enchantments he had used on his own known and thanks to the wonder of magic she now had enough guns, ammo and explosives to take down the entire school.
Not that she was going to be satisfied with such a limited armory. She was used to having a massive gun closet after a habit she developed back when she was working under that complete moron Iemitsu.
Every time he royally pissed her off (which was very often), she would use his credit card to buy a new gun, ammo case, or just something that could do a lot of damage in a short time in the right hands. She never bothered with nuclear materials...she wasn't stupid after all and that was far more regulated...but by the time she died, she had a massive armory that could outfit a small army for at least a decently prolonged battle against a sufficiently armed group with proper funding.
Some people found comfort in drinking or counting money. Lal found comfort in having a large scale armory that she could then use to shoot people with.
As Lal settled into the train, she couldn't help but feel this was going to be a long, agonizing five years. At least until she got to shoot someone.
That always cheered her up.