~*T*~

After many giggling calls of "Faster!" Griphook answered, "One speed only."

"That sucks!" Taylor called back.

Hermione's parents were huddled, wrapped it each others arms, eyes closed, on the back bench of the cart, and groaned as one at that claim.

Amy reached back and patted them on the head, "There there."

Lisa bit her knuckle to keep from laughing at them.

~*i*~

After looking through seven vaults of money, heirlooms, and other McGuffins, and much loading of pockets and stuffing of impossibly long, thick, hard (and sometimes throbbing) things in unreasonably tight places that they shouldn't fit, Harry counted out four galleons and twenty-four sickles, which he handed to Griphook.

"What's this for?" Griphook asked, even as he pocketed the coins.

"A tip, or gratuity, is used to show appreciation for the work performed. Generally it is 20% of what one paid for a meal, or in this case, 20% of our banking fees today."

"That sounds . . . profitable."

"It can be."

~*i*~

They shopped. Robes. Trunks. Owls. A funny orange cat. Books, books, and more books. Wands from a grubby little shop down a grubby little side street. Wands from a grubby little shop on the main drag. More books. Back down the grubby little side street for even more books. At last nothing more can be stuffed in unreasonably tight, but very stretchy, places, and the girls carried their last purchases out of the magical shopping arcade, which, to Taylor's mild disappointment, was not named Abenobashi.

"Miss Granger! We've been looking for you all day!" a tall, black-haired, severe-looking witch with lovely blue eyes greeted them.

"We ran into Luna, and she's taken us around for our shopping," Amy answered, with a bright smile, "We didn't see you, and thought you must have been distracted."

One of the boys in the witch's group made a break for it, disappearing into the pet shop.

"It's probably better we weren't with you, you seem to have your hands full already," Taylor said, smiling gently, "We'll see you at school."

"Ta ta for now," Luna agreed. She picked her cloth bag of books back up, and started toward the grimy pub at the entrance.

"Ta ta," she agreed, then led her gagglefuck of students to the pet store.

~*i*~

"What are we eating?"

"Fish and chips!" Taylor said, "Or curry. Standard British street food, but it's not anything I've ever had."

Amy nodded, "I want a lamb vindaloo."

"That sounds perfect," Luna agreed.

"How have you never had fish and chips?" Hermione's mother asked.

"I've had school fish and chips, but that's not the same."

"No, I don't suppose it would be."

~*i*~

Amy dragged all three of them into the latrine once they got back to King's Cross, pressed the shorter two into the back corner of a stall, and wrapped her arms around them, "So," she sighed, "Down to just our passengers?"

"Yup," Lisa said, popping her 'P' for emphasis. "No sign of the rest of our entities, so we shouldn't have to worry about random parahumans popping up. Wizarding World crazies are going to be enough trouble all by themselves."

"Oh?" Taylor asked.

"That scar? You got it when a magical terrorist leader tried to kill you, and faked his death."

"Oh, that's lovely," Amy sighed, hugged them tighter.

"It gets better. Most of them claimed they were mastered, and served no time, nor suffered any real fines. One of them owns the current Minister of Magic.

"Where does he live?"

"The Minister?"

"The terrorist with him in his pocket."

"Wiltshire, somewhere."

"Find out more exactly, please."

"Ryoukai."

"You guys learn any cool magic yet? Hermione could change the color of clothes," Amy sighed, "She'd teleported once, but didn't work on that once she knew about magic."

"Harry did too. I have to really work myself up to manage it so far."

Lisa laughed, "Not only can I teleport, but I can read minds."

"So we can interrogate the terrorist instead of just killing him without warning?"

"Probably,"

"Good."

"Taylor," Lisa actually blushed, then scratched the side of her nose, "Maybe I am interested. It's really weird. I want the cuddling and closeness, but I'm almost entirely not horny."

"That's a way to put it," Taylor laughed, "Almost entirely."

"Your scar has a mind," Lisa frowned, chewing on her lip, "And he's all sorts of pissed off."

"Well, that's no good," Amy said, "Pull him off?" she asked, feeling for Taylor's physical state. She hissed, "What happened to you?"

"Normal childhood bumps and scrapes, with normal 1750s treatment, and not enough food."

"Huh. May I fix that?"

"Let's wait until after we start school."

"No, we should leave the chunk of magical terrorist for a bit," Lisa answered the earlier question, "I think we can find something fun to do with him."

"I guess this is where we part," Taylor sighed, rubbing her face against Amy's shoulder.

"We should go to Hermione's house, so then we can teleport back."

"That sounds good," Taylor nodded.

"I'm pretty sure we can have a bath together and share my bed, but we'll have to keep it down."

"Are you sure? I might have outed us to your dad."

"It's probably fine," Amy said, "I think he thinks there's no chances of accidental pregnancies this way."

"What?" Taylor pulled back to look into Amy's face.

"Yeah, same sex accidental pregnancies are a thing here," Lisa agreed.

"That's," Taylor paused, "Kinda cool, I guess, but inconvenient."

"I know," Amy drew out the second word to about three syllables.

~*T*~

Note: You may have noticed a trend, of characters going on very detailed shopping trips, which talk up rafts of things they buy. Rafts of things that are never mentioned again.

I'd probably be more interested in these trips if they were used to explore the abused and deprived character's emotional reaction to being well-to-do, but I haven't seen that yet.