Author's Note:
This is both a HP reworking of "Back to the Future" themes, and a soft reboot/reworking of the time travel tale "Hair of the Grim" by Nightmare Sired Muse. It also contains many concepts, lines and situations from the grab-bag that is "Odd Ideas" by Rorschach's Blot. Used with the permission of their original authors (except for "Back to the Future" of course). The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not own Harry Potter or anything else. Full disclaimer in the Table of Contents.
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Rated M for some violence, language, drug use and sexual references. Nothing explicit.
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Canon-compliant. HP&DH compliant (except the Epilogue). HP&CC compliant (except the conclusion). FB&WTFT compliant. Pottermore compliant (mostly). Some crossover with: Naruto, Ranma ½, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Twilight, Lord of the Rings and Avatar: The Last Airbender. Primarily Harry Potter though.
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Recommended Fanfiction of the Week: "The Lie I've Lived" by jbern.
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Question of the Week: What was going through the publishers' heads when they included the wrong prices of the books in galleons? If you're going to go to all the trouble of including wizarding costs, surely you'd aim to get the conversion right (simply divide/multiply by 5!)?
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Part 6: The Syndicate vs The Economy
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Chapter 30 – Dollar Dollar Bill, Y'all
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Sometimes it's good to be the smartest rat in the sewer.
― Michael Houbrick
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Jean-Sébastien Delacour frowned as he considered the information in the letter his wife had just given him.
"What could have alarmed our daughter so much that she felt it necessary to flee from Hogwarts and travel halfway across the world to Japan to 'purge the Death Eater scum' from the face of the earth?!" he demanded.
Amarante shrugged in that ambiguous Gallic fashion. "What will you do?"
"First I shall find out everything that is going on with these 'soldiers of Grindelwald' that have been harassing her!"
"And then?"
"And then drag Apolline home from Japan, by the ear if necessary!"
"And I shall accompany you."
"But, my love –"
"I shall accompany you," Amarante repeated firmly, eyes flashing with white-blue fire. "My baby needs me, and no hordes of dark wizards from the wild regions of Mahōnihon will get in my way!"
"As you wish," he conceded reluctantly, knowing that his wife would inevitably have her way with this, as with everything. He began to mentally review all of the potential suspects who may the information he was seeking. Two in particular seemed to stand out. It'd be nice to have a bit more information before launching a raid and revealing his hand, but he'd worked with less in the past. Tapping his golden wristwatch with his wand, he put out the alert to get the tactical team together, this wasn't the time to take any chances.
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Jean-Sébastien watched with a satisfied smile as the tactical team breached the wards around the Rosiers' Manor in Alsace and stormed the house, emerging a few minutes later with the restrained and enraged Lord Matthieu Rosier.
"You'll pay for this, Delacour!" he bellowed. "I'll see you broken for this!"
"I have no doubt that the French and British Ministers will rush to your aid as soon as they find out you've been arrested," Jean-Sébastien agreed calmly. "One of the many reasons we're keeping this quiet." He caught a flash of shock on the man's face just before his men slid a black sack over his head. "Search the whole place, I don't want a stone left unturned!"
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Jean-Sébastien felt sick as he looked over the report of Matthieu and Odette Rosier's interrogations. The pair had spilled everything, names, account numbers, and a laundry list of crimes. Chief among which was the aid they'd given to their good friend of the family Gellert Grindelwald, who'd somehow escaped Nurmengard and was now busily rebuilding his army in Mahōnihon.
"I want everyone on this list in irons right now," he growled to his underlings.
"Many of them will flee the country once they discover the Rosiers have been taken," his assistant reported nervously. "Some may be difficult to locate."
"Did I ask for excuses?" he queried sweetly. "Or did I ask for results?"
"Right away, sir."
Jean-Sébastien looked over the next report he'd received. Information from the interrogation of Béatrice Averrie. A look of disgust plastered on his face.
"What's this?" he demanded.
"The woman's a potions mistress," his assistant said smoothly. "It is a miracle the Veritaserum was able to get even this much out of her."
"I want everything she knows and I want it now!" Jean-Sébastien growled.
"I want your office, a solid gold latrine and an easy life with no responsibilities," his assistant retorted, a bit of testiness colouring her voice.
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The two would-be assassins eyed their captor with something akin to amusement as she went about trying to intimidate them into speaking. That was one of the problems with amateurs, they reflected, all bluff.
"Help me move them to the end of the dock please, Sorbet."
"Yes, Madame!" the house elf agreed cheerfully.
The two men allowed themselves to be taken and offered no resistance when the elf forced them to sit at the edge.
"Left one first, Sorbet."
"Yes, Madame!"
"What are you doing?" Lefty asked in a tone of mild annoyance.
"I'm attaching weights to your feet so you don't float," Amarante replied calmly. The fact that she was about to execute the man was no excuse not to be courteous.
"Just who do you think you're fooling?" Righty laughed. "I'll admit that it's a good setup, but your mark has to believe that you're capable of carrying out a threat if you want it to have any chance to make them talk."
"Good to know," Amarante mused. "Don't you think so, Sorbet?"
"Yes, Madame Delacour," the house elf agreed. "Weights are on, Madame Delacour."
"Thank you, my dear."
"Tell you what," Lefty began. "You let us go right now and we won't tell the Gendarmes what you tried?"
"Are you perchance referring to the Gendarmes who are watching us from the end of this pier?"
"Eugh?"
Amarante put the flat of her hand on the centre of the man's back and pushed. The man's brief scream cut off with a loud splash.
"Right one, please."
"Yes, Madame," Sorbet agreed.
"You just pushed him in!" Righty screamed in shock.
"I did," she agreed, placing the palm of her hand on the flat of the man's back. "Finished, Sorbet?"
"Almost, Madame."
"You can't do this!"
"Why not?" Amarante asked curiously.
"You're Lady Delacour! You're supposed to be a good guy!"
"Ready, Madame."
"Wait!" the man screamed. "I'll talk, I'll tell you everything I know!"
"Talk fast," the Veela ordered.
"Paul Touvier!" the man said loudly. "He's the one who hired us!"
"What do you think, Sorbet?"
"Sorbet thinks we should ask his friend," the house elf replied.
"Good idea," Amarante said with a grin. "Pull his friend up." She gave a sharp push, sending the man to the bottom as Sorbet raised his accomplice.
The house elf levitated the shivering man onto the dock and slapped him across the face to get his attention.
"Your friend told me something interesting," the Veela matriarch said, sounding as if she were discussing a subject no more interesting than the weather. "It bought you a few minutes up here. Care to try for a few more?"
"Paul Touvier," the man gasped.
"He the only one?"
"Yes," the man gasped.
"Wrong answer," Amarante said flatly.
"Perhaps bad men need some time to get their stories straight," Sorbet suggested.
"Perhaps you're right, Sorbet."
"No!" the man sobbed. "Please no."
Another push sent the man back to the bottom.
"Any thoughts on dinner, Sorbet?"
"Sorbet was thinking about getting some of those nice spiny fishies from the fishmonger, Madame Delacour."
"Bouillabaisse or something else?"
"Sorbet isn't confident in her Bretagnaise bouillabaisse, Madame," the house elf admitted in shame.
"The Mollières tell me it takes a while to get right," Amarante assured her. "I'm sure you'll get it right eventually and I'm sure that whatever you make will be delicious no matter what it is."
"Thank you, Madame," Sorbet said, puffing her chest out in pride. "Shall Sorbet bring the bad man back?"
"I suppose," the Lady agreed.
The second man was soon back on the dock, gasping for air.
"You didn't tell me everything," Amarante told the man. "Care to try again?"
"Maurice Papillion is the one at the top! I'll tell you everything I know, just please don't –"
"Let's see what the other one has to say."
"Yes, Madame," Sorbet agreed.
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"Looks like another suicide," Inspector Charles LaRousse Dreyfus said seriously.
"But ... but, sir," his assistant, Deputy Auror Ramón Clouseau, simpered. "He was beaten to death."
"And?" Dreyfus yawned.
"And here's another signed note from a witness confessing his witnessing of the whole thing."
"You actually believe that's real?" Charles snorted.
"It's been notarised, as have all the other witness statements saying that Maurice Papillion was murdered."
"If you were any sort of detective, you'd know how unreliable witnesses can be."
"So you're saying that Papillion beat himself to death in front of several witnesses whom he somehow convinced that he was murdered?"
"He always was a cunning bastard," Dreyfus agreed, setting the witness statements on fire. "Well, I'm not going to fall for it or his plan to frame some poor innocent after his death."
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Sergeant Evangéline Arsenault nodded to Inspector Dreyfus and Lieutenant Jean-Baptiste de Grenouille as they entered the conference room simultaneously. Inside there were already another 50 people milling about. The group of law enforcement officials hastily took their seats as Lord and Lady Delacour took to the stage.
"My friends," Jean-Sébastien began, "we thank you for all your hard work in our latest series of raids. Your efforts have not gone unrewarded – we have obtained a large cache of papers, weapons and suspects. Reports from their interrogations do indeed confirm the rumours of a large-scale operation to move persons and materiel out of the country to a new staging post in Magical Asia." He took a deep breath. "There is other news … of a more personal sort … my teenage daughter Apolline, whom many of you have met over the years, has taken it upon herself to chase after them to bring them to justice."
Surprised mutterings greeted that announcement. Arsenault and Dreyfus shared a shocked look.
"My wife and I are leaving France to visit Japan tomorrow. We will leave no stone unturned in finding her back and retrieving her to our bosom. I … I cannot ask nor order any of you to accompany us on what is a private matter …"
"Enough of that!" bellowed Dreyfus. "I am coming and that is that! Little Apolline shall not be left alone and friendless in a far-off barbarian land, not while I have anything to say about it!"
Arsenault immediately stood as well, nodding her agreement. Around them, Auror after Auror stood to declare their support.
"My friends," Jean-Sébastien choked, "we thank you."
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The latest meeting of the Hogsmeade Auxiliary of the Hogwarts Army had concluded. As the HAHA members drifted out of the Hog's Head and away to their next engagements, the motley crew who remained, Ron, James, Frank, Xenophilius, Vernon and the newly-inaugurated Richard Evans, pondered how to spend the remainder of their day.
"So Mr Evans, what is your profession?" Frank asked politely.
"Call me Richard, daddy, and banking's my bag. I grind for The Man in the City."
"I, uh, see. I never understood anything about economics myself, Richard Daddy," the Longbottom scion admitted.
"Don't get hung up, almost nobody understands it," Richard reassured him. "And with the tripped-out way the wiz mulah market runs, I'm willing to bet you most wand-sharks don't either, you dig?"
"What do you mean?" asked Frank curiously.
"I mean that whoever set the whole megilla up was one whacked-out turkey! Here's the skinny: it's approximately five or six pounds to the galleon. One galleon is worth 17 sickles, and one sickle is 29 knuts. That means it's 493 knuts to the galleon. Which means that one knut equals 0.002 of a galleon and one sickle is 0.059 of a galleon. Haven't these goblin turkeys ever heard of the base 10 system?"
"I doubt it, Richard Daddy," James said. "I don't even know what it is."
Ron, Frank and Xenophilius nodded their agreement.
Richard and Vernon stared at them.
"Er, right," Vernon said, shaking his head at the substandard education these poor freaks were forced to endure. Probably explained why they refused to get proper jobs and earn honest livings like decent folk. Looked like it was up to him to give these ignoramuses a taste of the real world, perhaps it wasn't too late for them. "Why don't we go to London, make a day of it?" Maybe he'd introduce them to some of his business colleagues.
"I agree," said Odd immediately. His fascination with the man's gigantic afro meant he was more than willing to trek through strange climes to learn its secrets.
The others were in agreement, a chance to be shown around muggle London with some genuine muggle tour guides was not an opportunity that arose often. Not that the wizarding tour guides of London were bad, per se. It's just that one got rather tired of them getting lost along the way all the time. James had visited Putney, Dover, the Shetlands and the inside of the lion enclosures of the Birmingham Zoo more times than he could count.
"I'm good to go, I've got money," Ron announced. Odd and Frank did too.
James said, "I'll need to get some gold out of my Gringotts account."
"I can dig it," Richard agreed. "If you don't mind my nosing, what kind of interest do you get from your account?"
"Interest?" James said blankly.
Vernon and Richard shared a look.
"It's the bread a bank gives you for having an account with them," Richard said. "No idea what I'm talking about, huh?"
"Afraid not," James said apologetically.
"Well ... ask for a statement and I'll explain what it all means if you like."
"Thanks," James replied.
"Shall we go then?"
"Where are the others?" asked Frank.
"My girlfriend wanted to spend a bit of girl-time with Miss Umbridge, Mrs Evans, Mrs Tonks and the McKinnons," Vernon replied stiffly. "Least that's what she said, could be they're plotting against us."
"Plotting against us?" Ron asked nervously.
"They're women. Wouldn't put it past them," Vernon grunted darkly.
"They don't really do that, do they?" Ron whispered to James.
James shrugged. "No idea, mate. Alice told me she was taking them out for a mani-pedi, whatever that is. I suggested they might want to do something fun instead, but what do I know?" he snorted.
"Are you really okay with your daughter ditching school to swan around those barbarian Japanese foreigners unsupervised?" Vernon muttered to Richard.
"Mellow out, man, she's on her pilgrimage. Her old lady and I went to India, she's gone to the Far East. Lily-flower's a clever chick, good noodle on her shoulders. As long as she keeps on truckin' everything will be copacetic," reassured Richard. "While we're in London, I'll introduce you cats to my broker, I think you'll like Onslow. He's a keen dude and the fact that he doesn't charge a commission when I make my own trades is the only thing that lets me bring in the gravy as much as I do."
"Why doesn't he charge you?" asked Ron.
"Might be 'coz he's my main man," Richard replied. "But it's probably because he married my bird's sister. I choose not to speculate."
"He's your brother-in-law?"
"With a name like Onslow?" Vernon muttered, "Only one extended family would inflict that on a child."
"Oh."
"Isn't that the same extended family you're interested in joining?" Richard asked lightly.
Vernon flushed in embarrassment.
"I'd suggest that we stop by your bank first to get your statement," Richard continued. "Might not be a bad idea to run it past Onslow to get his opinion."
"Fine with me," James agreed. The group walked through the Diagon Alley to the bank. "Excuse me," James said to one of the tellers.
Vernon took one look at the creatures behind the service desks and immediately stated that he'd wait for them outside.
"What is it?" asked the goblin impatiently.
"I wanted to get an account statement," James said. "If you don't mind."
"Key," the goblin demanded. "There will also be a one galleon fee charged against your account."
"That's fine."
"Here is the statement to all three of your accounts," the creature handed James a scroll. "Each one has a separate listing for deposits, withdrawals, and fees. Will that be all?"
"Three accounts?"
"Your trust account, your Heir account and the Potter business account. Was there anything else you needed?"
"No, thank you."
"Next!" the goblin called out.
James walked back to Richard, Ron, Frank and Xeno and handed the older man the parchment. "Could you help me make sense of this?"
"Sure thing, daddy," Richard agreed. "Let's see ... hmmm, this is a bit unreal."
"What is it?"
"It says here that they're charging you a fee of one galleon a month per account to maintain your accounts," Richard said with an odd look on his face. "I wouldn't stress too much about that just now, you're also taking in 500 galleons a month from ... somewhere. Uh, this account here is your trust account. It has about 300,000 galleons in it. This second account is your Heir account and it has about two million galleons in it. This last account is the Potter family's business account and it has ... wowzers, 15 million galleons in it! So your assets total roughly," the man paused for a few seconds, "at an approximately six pounds per galleon conversion rate, roughly 103.8 million pounds."
"Far out," James said in shock. "I never realised I had that much."
"Shame they aren't really made out of gold," Richard said with a laugh. "Or you'd have quite a bit more bread than that!"
"Uh ... I think they are made out of gold," Odd said slowly. "Least that's what I was always told."
Ron, Frank and James nodded in agreement.
"Why don't we rap with one of the goblins?" Richard suggested. "Before we get tight about this."
"Ok," James agreed.
"Excuse me," Richard asked one of the tellers, "but I had a question."
"What is it?" the Cokblok demanded.
"How much gold is in a galleon?"
"Galleons are minted by the Goblin nation and certified to carry exactly three pennyweights of gold," Cokblok explained. "They are then charmed to prevent tampering and as such, a small charge is placed against each coin for the guarantee."
"Is that why I can't cut it?" Ron asked.
"Yes," Cokblok agreed. "In order to protect Gringotts' reputation, wizarding currency has several protection and durability charms."
"What about bullion?" Richard asked. "Since a galleon is more expensive because of the charms and all that jazz, it stands to reason that James should be able to convert his galleons into bullion at a fairly good rate."
"Gringotts charges a 10 percent fee for every guaranteed coin," Cokblok replied. "So one galleon would buy an equal amount of gold less 10 percent."
"Can you transfer to a muggle bank?" Richard demanded.
"Deal with muggles!?" Cokblok gasped in horror and disgust. The other goblin tellers subtly moved further away.
"Yeah I dig," Richard said with a satisfied nod. "Brothers, can I confab with you outside for a moment?"
"What is it?" James asked, once he'd raised the privacy shield spell at the muggle banker's urging.
"James," Richard began. "The average value of one troy ounce of gold for the last half of 1976 was approximately 67 pounds. That's just over three galleons. In your trust and Heir accounts you have access to 2.3 million galleons, which is approximately 767 thousand troy ounces of gold. Less 10 percent equals 690 thousand, which is worth ... 46 million 230 thousand pounds!"
"That's a lot of money," James said in shock.
"Yes it is," Richard agreed. "If you include the total of all three accounts, 17.3 million galleons, that comes to a total of … 347 million 730 thousand pounds!"
"Sweet St George!" Vernon began mopping his forehead with his hanky.
"James, I think it might be a good idea to hang tight until we have a chance to talk with Onslow before you do anything with your mulah," Richard said slowly.
"If you say so," the Potter heir agreed.
"More than a quarter of a billion pounds," Richard whispered to himself in shock. "I'll be right back, cats, I just want to convert my pocket money into gold before we go."
"Okay," the boys chorused.
Richard re-joined them a few minutes later. "Let's book."
They walked out of the Leaky Cauldron to the shag wag, and drove into the City. Xenophilius had used his time at the bank productively, and now sported a blond afro strikingly similar to the tall muggle's. Ron couldn't help but feel a twinge déjà vu for the twins. Richard pulled up in front of a large building.
"This is where he has his office," Richard explained. "The very beating heart of Squaresville."
They got out of the car and took the elevator up several floors.
"Nanoo nanoo, Onslow," Richard called out as he walked through one of the doors. "How's it hangin'?"
"Wotcher, Richard, Vernon. Well enough, considering I'm sitting here completely surrounded by no beer. How's the family?"
"Gas. Let me introduce you to some cool cats that are schoolfriends of Lily-flower: James, Frank, Gilderoy and Xenomorph."
"Always a pleasure to meet my niece's friends," Onslow said. "What brings you here?"
"This," Richard said as he dumped a large bar of gold on his desk.
"I'll presume you didn't steal this," Onslow said with a smile.
"Bite your tongue – I got it legally," Richard agreed.
"First thing we need to do is make sure it's real. One moment." The man reached into his desk and pulled out a metal letter opener. "Well," he said as he scratched the gold bar. "It's heavy and soft."
"For the sake of argument," Richard began. "What would you suggest I do if I came across a large amount of these?"
"Refine it and sell it," Onslow said immediately. "Or refine it and issue certificates, or refine it and hold it, or combine these things. For the sake of argument, the Swiss don't consider tax evasion a crime. So if you had a way to get it to a Swiss refiner then I'd suggest that you bank it in Switzerland and put it in a numbered account in a Swiss bank. The Geneva Canton has some of the strictest laws, so I'd look there first."
"Thanks brother," Richard said. "What about this small amount?"
"I know a couple of jewellers that might be willing to buy it," Onslow said. "But I couldn't sell much to them."
"Would you get a better deal if you traded it for finished stuff?"
"It's possible," Onslow said with a shrug. "This isn't really my area."
"Do whatever you think best," Richard ordered. "Who's the specialist in gold?"
"That'd be Lawrence down the hall."
"Thanks, daddy. Before I forget, you wouldn't happen to know what the interest rate is in a Swiss account would you?"
"In a money market account it averages about three to four percent, Swiss bankers are very good at managing money."
"Cool beans, I'll see you at the next family shindig," waving, Richard ushered the group into the elevator. "Hahaha! This'll really stick it to The Man! Oh yes it will!" he rubbed his hands gleefully. "Tell me, you wiz folk have ways of getting to Switzerland in the twinkling of an eye that don't require passports, correct?"
The boys nodded.
"I believe that there is also a Gringotts branch in Zurich," Frank offered sensibly. "We can process our transactions there."
"Sharp lad. Here's the skinny, cats: we each convert all our galleons to bullion at Gringotts. Then we either sell the bullion on the gold markets directly, through Lawrence or some other intermediary, or else we hire some wiz jeweller to make it into earrings or brooches or thrones or some jazz that we can on-sell to normal jewellers on this side. Or we just sell the lot off in bulk in India, China and the Gulf states, they're always hungry for gold, no matter what state it's in. I trust we can get to those places easily enough too?"
The boys nodded again.
"Out of sight! We each open our own numbered Swiss bank accounts and deposit all the pounds, rupees, yuan, dollars and whatever else therein. We then withdraw said currency and bring it to Gringotts to convert into galleons and begin the whole cycle anew."
"How much will this make?" asked Vernon in glee.
"Each galleon will net us roughly 20 pounds from gold sales. At the current exchange rate of between five and six galleons per pound, those 20 pounds will net us between three and four galleons. Which will then net us between 60 and 80 pounds. Which will then net us between 10 and 16 galleons. Which will net us between 200 and 320 pounds. And so on and so forth. Geometric increase."
The eyes of the other males were now wide as dinner plates.
"The goblins won't like this," Frank murmured.
"That's the understatement of the century! They'll go positively out of their minds!" James declared.
"Which is why we need to spread out our operations," finished Richard. "How many Gringotts branches are there around the world?"
Shrugs.
"Someone needs to find that out. Once we know, we can divvy them up, and each person does the circuit. Go to one branch for galleons-to-bullion exchange, then the next for muggle currency-to-galleons, then the next for galleons-to-bullion and so forth. That way there's a different person doing the exchanges each time at a branch office. The goblins will wise up to us eventually, they're like the casinos, and then they'll cut us off. Banned for life or some such. But by spreading things out all over the world, it'll hopefully take them a lot longer to catch on. And we'll have a lot more in our numbered Swiss accounts at the end than we otherwise would."
"And we don't have to stick to goblins!" Odd added excitedly. "Aren't there dwarven banks, and elvish banks, and gnome banks, and Kraken banks, and banks run by unspeakable eldritch horrors? We can hit them all up too!"
"Right on!" complimented Richard. "Someone needs to rustle up a list of every magical bank in the world and their rates. Then we 'hit them' all up! Best to get our women involved as well: the more hands on deck, the more exchanges we can do; and the less likely we'll be recognised for coming to the banks for gold all the time."
"If we don't want to be recognised, we could always brew up some polyjuice and turn up as all sorts of different people. Like our enemies, for example, or anyone we want to frame," added Ron. "There's no security checks or Thieves' Downfall or anything else for people who just turn up at the lobby, make exchanges at the tellers and leave. All that security stuff is for people wanting to go down into the vaults!"
"I never thought I'd say this, but I guess I was wrong – there actually is something good to be said for that freakish unnatural world and its freakish unnatural economy!" cheered Vernon.
The wizards rolled their eyes but held their peace.
"Then our syndicate is hereby formed, o my brothers. Yeah, baby, arbitrage!"
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Ginny wondered how this tiny store in this ruined village in the middle of the wild regions in the middle of Magical Asia even managed to stay afloat if the wares that the proprietor (who sported the rather odd name of TenTen) had placed in front of her for inspection were representative of the standard ninja equipment. Heck, the place wasn't even a store, just a bunch of planks and rubble stuck and stapled together with a sign on top which resembled a vagrant's hovel. She was more than a bit disappointed by the selection of junk on the racks.
"Anything that doesn't weigh five pounds more than it should?" she asked, on the brink of leaving the store in disgust.
"Trick walking sticks have always been rather popular," TenTen said quickly, sensing the opportunity to make a sale slipping out of her fingers. "Try this one. Self-transfigures into a sword, self-adjusts for height, elegant, and capable of channelling jutsus," handing the cane over.
"How do I turn it into a sword?" Ginny asked. The ninja demonstrated and Ginny took two practice swings before putting it down. "No."
"Something wrong?"
"That's not a sword," Ginny explained. "The balance is wrong, the weight is too high, and the edge couldn't cut butter."
The girl gave her a look of frank appraisal. "How bout this?" she asked, handing the Englishwoman another stick. "Just will the blade to appear."
Ginny made a few practice swings, they were enough to capture her interest so she decided to give the blade a closer look.
"Toledo steel," TenTen commented. "You want a good sword, you take it and transfigure it into a stick, other way around doesn't work so well. Won't channel jutsus, wouldn't recommend any that do anyway, but it will make a nasty club if you don't want to run someone through."
"Any other weapons that were made to be used?" Ginny asked, putting the sword aside.
"Not really," TenTen admitted. "Most of the good stuff has already been requisitioned by the Hokage for the war effort. Nowadays, most people come here to pick up something to decorate their houses with, 90 percent of what I've got in stock at the moment is poorly made junk. I might have something in the back if you'd like me to check?"
"Please," Ginny agreed.
The shinobi departed and returned a couple minutes later carrying a foot-long wrapped package which she placed on the counter.
"Found a horse pick and a couple of mundane Robbins punch daggers. Free if you buy the sword."
"Deal," Ginny said.
It was a good selection of armaments. The two muggle knives that currently held her attention were made by Robbins of Dudley during the Great War and featured aluminium handles and wickedly sharp dagger-like blades. The similarity ended there. The first punch knife looked fairly standard, a flat pointed blade with a skull-shaped knuckleduster handle. The second was odd, it had a large cylindrical fist-like grip with a horizontal blade protruding from the space between where one would have their index and middle fingers. They both also carried the tell-tale tingle of magic items when Ginny handled them. Nodding her acceptance, Ginny slipped them into a pocket and dropped a handful of koban onto the counter top.
Ginny glanced at her boyfriend's mother's (and Lily Luna's grandmother's) younger-counterpart-from-another-dimension-who-seemed-to-be-developing-in-a-completely-different-direction-from-the-late-Lily-Potter. She really did need to find something for her to carry. Mary was easy, just find something that looked dangerous and the girl would cheerfully tote it everywhere. Giving her that claymore was nothing less than inspired. Lily on the other hand …
"What?" the other crimsonhead demanded. "Why are you staring at me?"
"Trying to figure out a way to get you to start carrying a knife around," Ginny admitted.
"Get me one and teach me to use it," Lily said, turning her attention back to the diagram of chakra points on the wall.
"Really?" she asked, somewhat incredulously.
"Yes," Lily said firmly.
"Huh, I thought it'd be harder than this," Ginny admitted. She'd pegged the Evans girl as much more of a wet blanket who would take far more convincing (i.e., nagging) before she'd play ball. Perhaps the duo needed to re-evaluate her ancestor-clone. She pulled out the punch knife with the skull-shaped knuckleduster grip. "Why don't you take this one till I can source another?" she suggested.
"No," the former Head Girl said, dismissing the knife with a glance.
"What?"
"One, you need to teach me how to use it first. Two, it has a skull. Find one that looks nicer for me," Lily demanded.
"Looks nicer?"
"Yes," she agreed.
"This is a very good design," Ginny protested.
"Are there other good designs that are also aesthetically pleasing?"
"Yes," she admitted.
"Get me one of them," Lily ordered.
"But ..."
"Have you forgotten that I'm a girl, Lily Luna Potter?" Lily growled.
"Hey, I'm a girl too! And I thought you'd be practical enough to put function over form, Lilith Evans."
"It's Lily, not Lilith, not Lillian, not Lizabeth, not short for anything at all, got it? And you've admitted that there are other functioning designs that have more pleasing forms," she sniffed. "Function first, form second. That has function first and ugly second. I refuse to carry it."
"Are you willing to learn with it, at least?" Ginny asked, sighing.
"Of course. Why the sudden obsession with weapons, anyway?"
"Just a little something called a war that we happen to be in the middle of," she said dryly. "Never hurts to be prepared."
"You're carrying so many knives that you're starting to clank!" Lily replied. "That's going a bit beyond 'prepared'! Either hide them better or put a silencing charm on them or something."
"I will, thanks."
"What else do you have on you?" asked TenTen eagerly. Ginny recognised the gleam of a fellow blade-appreciator.
"A billhook and an ice pick. Most people don't think about how useful either they can be."
"Do I even want to know?" Lily asked.
"Do you?"
"No, but I have a feeling I need to," Lily admitted.
"They're very good if you want to kill someone, less useful in a fight. I can show you later if you want."
"Where did you learn all these things?" the other redhead demanded. "Peter I can understand, he's half-crazy as it is; but what's your story?"
"That's a good question," Ginny stated. "I want to enchant the ice pick, but don't see it being in regular carry after that."
"Why not?" TenTen asked.
"What?"
"If you're going to take the time to enchant it, why aren't you going to carry it?"
"Because it's not much good in combat. Best thing to do with it is shove it into someone's ear. Jam one in someone's ear and they'll never be a problem again. Problem is, it's kinda hard to do that in the middle of a fight."
"That's a good point," TenTen agreed sagely. "What about the other stuff?"
"The punch knives I might add to my regular arsenal, probably will come to think of it. Wand or billhook in the right and one of them in the left could be a pretty good combination," Ginny finished thoughtfully. "Reason I'm carrying them now is because they feel enchanted. Lily, could you have a look at them next time you have a spare hour?"
"Let me see," the former Queen of Gryffindor demanded. Ginny pulled out the two knives and laid them on the counter once more.
"Why didn't you tell me you had something acceptable?" Lily demanded, dismissing the knuckleduster knife and focusing on the other.
"What?"
"How do you use it?" Lily asked, picking up the knife with the odd cylindrical handle and horizontal blade.
"You grip it and punch with it, horizontal lets it go between ribs easier," TenTen explained.
"It's a bit big for me," Lily said, following her instructions to get the correct hold.
"I can order you one made to your size," TenTen offered. "They're pretty easy to use, just need to learn how to punch."
"I can do that already," Lily said, dismissing the ninja's concerns. "Get me one of these and show me how to carry it and I will."
"Punching isn't as simple as just making a fist," Ginny warned.
"I know, I've had to deal with my share of bullies on my neighbourhood streets," Lily explained, emerald eyes flashing at the memories.
"Better than me. Most of my knowledge on punching came from the other side until a couple years back," Ginny said dryly.
"Do you want me to go find and beat up Bellatrix for you?" Lily offered, half seriously.
"No thank you," Ginny replied. Not that she didn't appreciate her offer.
"You don't think I'd win?" Evans challenged, getting her back up.
"Quite the contrary, I'm fairly sure you would," Ginny assured the girl.
"Then why'd you say 'no' so fast?"
"Because if you did fight her, she might get in a lucky shot."
"So?"
"So if she did, I'd have to kill her," Ginny said simply. "Something I'd like to avoid doing to blood relatives."
"Blood relatives?"
"My grandmother is Cedrella Black. Married Septimus Weasley."
"You know, statements like that are exactly why Weasleys never fit into wizarding society, Lily Luna," Lily sniffed.
"Because I think girls are to be protected?"
"No, it's that you don't want to kill blood relatives; bet you wouldn't sleep with them either."
"No," she shuddered, sick at the thought of doing anything remotely intimate with any of the Blacks, even so much as a hug ... except for Nymphadora, but she was more of a Tonks anyway, so didn't count.
"There you go, if you were a proper pureblood you'd think that a quick murder or two would get you some gold and that family trees should have as few branches as possible," Lily giggled. "It's exactly this sort of thing that makes purebloods consider the Weasleys blood traitors."
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not speculate on how the Purists' minds work," Lily Luna requested.
"Alright," Lily agreed. "Is there anything else you'd like to focus on?"
"Ways to disrupt magic, that is, chakra."
"Silk is a good insulator and Cold Iron is good at absorbing chakra attacks," TenTen said thoughtfully.
"Could we use them to bring down wards?"
"Wards?"
"You know, protective barriers and suchlike?"
"You'd probably need a whole lot of it and you'd need a way to keep it from absorbing chakra till you needed it," TenTen replied. "Wrapping it in silk might work, but that would still mean a lot of silk."
"Any way to de-chakra it after it absorbs chakra?"
TenTen gave a helpless shrug. "I read a book that made a passing mention of it a few years ago. I'm sorry, but I have no idea."
"You had enough of one to give us a lead," Ginny replied, grinning wide. "In the meantime, there's something else I'd like you two gals to lend your expert eyes to." She pulled out the magical blade that she'd 'acquired' from the grungy store they'd exploded in Kyōto.
"It's got an odd set of charms on them," Lily reported, turning the knife over in her hands. "Silencing Charm, Notice Me Not Charm, concealment charms, and ever-sharp charms to start with."
"If it's blooded or the user wills it, it imbues the user with a terrifying aura that should only affect enemies. Whoever made these was both very good and very strange," TenTen added. "You need to channel a little chakra through it to activate. I suggest pretending it's one of your foreign bits of pointing wood until you get used to the feeling and can do it at will. It should stop you clanking when you walk, at any rate."
"Thanks, ladies," Ginny said, taking the dagger back.
"The Magical Council might consider these dark objects," Lily cautioned.
"Are you going to tell them?"
"Of course not," the former First Lady of Hogwarts replied quickly.
"Neither am I," Ginny said with a grin.
"Just don't get caught."
"I won't."
Weird, Ginny commented idly.
What's weird? asked Lily Luna.
You don't think it a bit odd that the only weapons shop in a heavily militarised village made up of people raised as soldiers from infancy, had no useful weapons aside from a few hundred-year old muggle surplus blades?
The shopkeep was telling the truth, Kikyō interjected, I detected no falsehood. The military has requisitioned all weapons and supplies of any use in the entire Land of Fire, according to the minds of your ANBU handlers that think they're following us stealthily. I doubt you'd be able to get your hands on anything besides simple blades, sticks and stones, let alone any of those rocket-launchers you were eyeing up on the train.
Ehehe, Lily Luna chuckled sheepishly.
And half the village population is made up of civilians, so a shop supplying them with weapons and equipment that look impressive but are functionally useless makes sense. I don't know of any weapons-supplier in Mahōnihon that doesn't cater to the decorations market to some extent. Everybody needs housewarming presents and Tanabata gifts, the Headmistress continued.
Nothing says 'I love you' like a spiked mace, scythe or giant Wind Demon Shuriken for your wall, Lily Luna snickered.
But there was something else, Kikyō mused. The girl was hiding one little fact from you; she's been ordered not to allow you or your friends access to any weapon of value or effectiveness, for national security reasons. She was too polite to rub that in your face.
What? But we got the Robbins punch daggers, Ginny protested. And nobody's taken away my billhook or the rest of my knives!
Hundred-year old muggle surplus knives like those little blades are hardly dangerous for a gēnin, let alone anyone with actual expertise, the ghost dismissed. Even that magical dagger of yours is nothing more than kunai to these people, a trinket to give their toddlers to practice bladework with.
Just my luck that my weapons pusher is a paranoid xenophobic military dictatorship, Ginny grumbled.
They returned to their Fortress-embassy and found Mary in the kitchen rapidly switching her gaze from a cookbook to a bubbling pot on the stove. Remus was helpfully consulting another dozen cookbooks at the table.
"What are we having, Mare?" Lily asked.
"Soup," the Scotswoman replied shortly.
"What kind?" Lily prompted.
"I'm not sure," Mary admitted. "I think I mighta switched recipes halfway through."
"It's hard to tell sometimes," Remus offered. "The only books written in English are antiques the colonialists traded centuries ago. You have to use your judgement in deciding where one recipe begins the other ends."
"Try reading them backwards."
"Really?"
"Hell if I know, but it worked for me whenever I got stuck in Ancient Runes," Lily said cheerfully.
"Alright."
"Where's the Daimyō and all his merry men?" asked Lily Luna, looking around. "This place seems awfully deserted.
"Cloistered with Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix, the Hokage and the Konoha village council," Remus answered. "Been like that all day."
"So we're being completely cut out of the loop," Lily grumbled, sitting down at the table. "Typical. Instead of war-planning, I'll no doubt be forced to endure you two sickening lovebirds and have to hear all about your revoltingly saccharine hand-holding and strolls through the cherry-trees and so on."
"Not necessarily. Hey Lily Luna, did ye ever hear the story about the witch that forgot to wear panties on the day she had a lesson on how t'ride a broom?" Mary asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.
"Tell that story and die, you cow," Lily growled.
"No, but I'm guessing it had a happy ending for the boys," Ginny shot back. Same thing had happened to Lavender at tryouts once.
"Nope, only the one girl that noticed," Mary agreed cheerfully. "That or the only one willing to let her know that she was putting on a show."
"For your information, I did not forget to wear panties! I spilled something on my lap during potions and I didn't have any clean underthings and I forgot that there was a flying lesson! I was sticking close to the ground when the Scots-bitch here decided to practice some stupid Quidditch move. Okay?!"
"You do know that you two are now married in the eyes of the wizarding world, don't you?" Ginny stated seriously.
"What?!" Lily squeaked.
"You didn't know?" her eyebrows raised. "If another wizard or witch sees a witch in ... uh ... that way in public, she's ruined for marriage forever unless he or she takes responsibility for their actions. I kinda just assumed that Mary was a good enough friend ..."
"Mary, did you know about this?" Lily turned to see her friend turning red from suppressed laughter. "You bitch!"
"She's the one who said it and ye're the one who believed it!" Mary laughed, tears streaming down her crimson face.
"I can't believe you believed that, Lils," Ginny wheezed, fending off the girl's attempts to smack her. "I mean, I know you're a muggleborn and all, but that's Order-level gullibility there!"
"Hey!"
"Not my fault it's true," Ginny said reasonably, noting the location of the nearest exit. "And that was for all those pureblood cracks you were making at my expense earlier."
"For your information, Lily Luna Potter, the wizarding world is so screwed up that I'm prepared to believe almost anything at this point!" Lily lectured.
"Yeah, and the Order ..." Remus's mouth worked silently. "I got nothing," he confessed. "In their defence, Lily's right, the magical world is a messed-up place. Live in it long enough and everything seems plausible."
"I know," Lily Luna agreed, "one of the things that makes it so fun."
Speaking of messed-up, said Ginny, I never did ask you what in Morgana's name was possessing your father to name his second son after Severus Snape?
How should I know? I already told you my parents do a lot of things that don't make a lick of sense to me!
Maybe all those AKs to head finally sent Harry over the edge, Ginny mused. But why on earth didn't that other Ginny stop him?
"As fun as all this laughing at my expense is," the erstwhile Queen of Hogwarts asserted firmly, "Lily Luna and I need to go find somewhere private."
"We do?" Ginny asked. "I thought you'd be saying that to your newlywed wife, not me!" She burst into giggles again. "As flattered as I am, you're not really my type. I think you'd see far better success sticking to brunette Scotswomen. You know, tried-and-true, and all that."
Lily sighed and dragged her out of the room, the taller redhead snickering too hard to offer any meaningful resistance. "Alight, missy," she said, once they were locked in an empty room on the other side of the Fortress, "you and me need to have a little talk."
"About what?"
"About what's up with you lately," the former Head Girl said flatly. "I know we haven't spent a whole lot of time together, but even so it's obvious that you've undergone a rather large personality shift."
"It is?" Ginny asked nervously.
"It is," she replied firmly.
"What sort of shift?" the girl temporised.
"You want the list? How about your newfound love of sharp, bladed weapons? By my reckoning you've become 55 percent more psychotic than you were a few weeks ago! And that's not to mention your newfound thick-as-thievesiness with that Tonks woman and your newfound total avoidance of a certain vermin who shall remain nameless."
"55 percent? That's awfully specific. I'm sure it's all in your imagination."
Lily Evans favoured the girl with a flat, unimpressed stare that let her know she wasn't fooling anyone. It was the stare of a Head Girl confronting miscreants caught red-handed.
Do not fret, child, Kikyō reassured her, the chances of your change remaining undetected by one as sharp as Lily Evans was almost non-existent.
Ginny sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you everything."
"Good," the shorter redhead nodded in satisfaction.
"But first you're going to have to raid the spice cupboard for me," Ginny replied, "I'll also need a good sharp, unenchanted knife, an unenchanted bowl, a flat slab of stone or a piece of unenchanted parchment, two cups of fresh spring water, and a bottle of whiskey. Note, I said whiskey, not Firewhisky, bourbon if you can get it. Nothing can have any magical residue at all."
"Why do you need all that?" Lily asked, puzzled by the requirements. It looked like she was going to have to brave a quick trip back to the kitchen.
"You won't know until after you get it for me," Ginny replied with an infuriating smirk.
A few minutes later, Lily returned. "Okay, I've got your stuff. Now explain what you need it for?"
"Privacy and to make sure you won't be able to reveal what you're about to learn," Ginny explained.
"I promised to keep quiet about it, didn't I?"
"You did, but promises to keep secrets don't mean a whole lot when there are mind-readers around," she pointed out. "Take out the bowl, pour the water in and add the spices."
"Then what?" she asked after she'd followed the instructions.
"Cut yourself and bleed into it, back of your hand is one of the better places," she advised. "Pour a bit of the whiskey over your cut into the bowl and give me the knife."
Ginny cut the back of her own hand and poured a bit of whiskey over the cut and into the bowl. Then she chanted a few words, causing the whole thing to flash white.
"What did we just do?" Lily asked, blinking the spots out of her eyes.
"Modified marriage ceremony," Ginny said absently, drawing something on the parchment, using her blood as the ink.
"MARRIAGE?" Lily shrieked. Merlin, not again!
"Modified, we're as single as we were five minutes ago in the eyes of the law," Ginny assured the girl. "The Black family used it to keep business partners from leaking secrets. You literally can't reveal any of the secrets I'm going to reveal to you. What is it with you and your phobia of marriage!? All anyone has to do to set you off is merely mention the m-word and you're kicking up a chakra-storm! What, did a wedding kill your parents in a dark alley or something? Might want to see one of those muggle mind healers about that."
"Oh." The girl visibly calmed. "Sorry. It's just … I've been having some issues on that front recently. No offense …"
"Don't worry about it."
"If this is Black family magic, how do you know it?"
"My boyfriend taught me."
"You have a boyfriend, Miss Lily Luna? Since when? Who is he? And how did he know about it?"
"That's part of what I have to tell you. Now calm your teats, woman, and let me explain everything from the top. It'll make much more sense that way. The Black family has a very good library, out of which he showed me a book on how to do magical things without magical ingredients. Except the blood, I should've said without any magical ingredients other than what you produce yourself. It's also considered quite dark and restricted by the Ministry so it's naturally one of the things I'd rather you didn't talk about with other people. And thanks to the little ritual we just performed, you won't."
"Okay, now let's have it, Miss Potter, the truth about what happened to you."
"I did promise to give it to you, didn't I?" Ginny sighed, stalling a bit.
"You did," she agreed firmly.
"You'd better settle in then; it's long and convoluted and difficult-to-believe."
.
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˂:3 )~~~~ . ˂:3 )~~~~ . ˂:3 )~~~~
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"Eureka!" Pandora screamed, a wide grin splitting her face. The girl leapt to her feet and started dancing a jig.
"What are you plotting now?" asked Naho suspiciously.
"The same thing I plot every day, my dear minion. Ways to take over the world! Bwahahahahahahahaha!" she burst into maniacal laughter.
"Do I need to break out the Calming Draughts?" their guide asked sardonically. "Or is this something only a Mind Healer can resolve?"
"You 'ave found a way to get us out of zis trap?" Apolline asked hopefully, eyes locked on the girl's generous bouncing bosom.
"You know how iron can disrupt magical fields?" Pandora asked, eyes gleaming. Not waiting for the others to respond, she continued, "I figured out how to do it!"
"You're going to summon a hunk of iron?"
"No, don't be ridiculous," Pandora sniffed. "All we have to do is put multi-ton iron rods into orbit, doesn't even matter if we use magic since they'll burn it off when the re-enter the atmosphere."
"And how will this get us out of this lava-filled hole?" Naho snarked.
"What? Who cares about that, my muse has moved on to much greater and more ambitious and more universe-bending matters than a mere escape plan! Matters such as wiping our planet clean of our foes like unto how one wipeth a dish and turneth it upon the face thereof!"
"You want to drop giant iron rods from space onto ze Death Eaters and Akatsuki?" Apolline asked, trying to get a handle on the magiscientist's train of thought.
"It'll work too, no ward, barrier, shield or barricade will be able to withstand that much iron!" the Malfoy giggled. "It will be an irresistible hammer-blow! A machine equal to the gods!"
"Eez zat even possible?"
"Of course! Open your eyes and see with the radiance of your imagination! Go beyond the impossible and kick reason to the curb!"
"How would we guide zem?"
"We'd have to set up an attack pattern while they were in orbit, but that won't pose too many problems," Pandora replied lightly.
"And what about collateral damage and the fact that a multi-ton chunk of anything falling out of orbit will destroy just about anything it lands on?" Naho interjected, in spite of herself.
"Oh. Yes. Well, guess we will have to save that for places like the land of Ame-gakure."
Naho shivered, chilled to the bone by the implications of their conversation.
Noticing, Pandora reassured her, "Never be afraid of what the future holds, never be regretful of the present! When you're scared, it's all the more reason to move forward!"
"It might be prudent to figure out how to prevent anyone else from doing something similar," Naho conceded weakly.
"He who controls the orbitals, controls the planet," Pandora agreed gravely.
Apolline raised an eyebrow at that statement.
"So I sometimes like to read muggle science fiction to relax," Pandora admitted. "One cannot live on research alone!"
"I hate to disrupt this academic tête-á-tête, but can we save the monomaniacal world-overthrowing and scientific speculations until such time as we're not in danger of being dissolved by the rapidly-rising lake of lava!" Naho snapped.
"Fine, if you must be like that," grumbled Pandora with an extravagant sigh. "I suppose it's about ready."
"What's ready?" the Japanese witch huffed.
"The ceiling of course. The lava has melted the rock just enough for the whole ceiling to operate more like a liquid than a solid. Which means it's susceptible to spells like the one I've been learning the past week: Suiton – uzumaki no jutsu!" Waving her wand furiously, Pandora grunted with exertion.
The others watched, wide-eyed as the glowing red rock-barrier above them began to swirl like a whirlpool. As the speed increased, it resembled an upside-down maelstrom, pushing upwards until a wide hole appeared. Yellow light filtered down to them.
"How do you like my whirlpool-drill?" Pandora demanded. "If you're gonna dig, dig to the heavens! My drill will open a hole in the universe!" she bellowed boisterously.
The samurai applauded in enthusiasm.
"Oh," said Naho in astonishment. "I'm sorry for doubting you."
"I'm sorry for doubting me too," Pandora chirped. "Levicorpus!" With another slash of her wand, shrieking samurai around her flew upwards out of the hole and to freedom by their ankles, arms flailing helplessly. Apolline and Naho swiftly emulated her, until it was only the three of them left.
"Eef you weel allow me to do ze 'onours," said the Frenchwoman, wings sprouting from her shoulderblades, "we shall return to our normal programming." Seizing the other two magical girls in her claws, Apolline launched herself into the air.
.