Harry Potter and a Warm Night Between
Based On J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter
Influenced by many things
History items copied and or paraphrased from Wikipedia
Recommendations for 1988:
Hustler Magazine V. Falwell
k.d. lang, "Rose Garden"
Mobile Suit Gundam: Char's Counterattack
Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam
Grave of the Fireflies
My Neighbor Totoro
Warren Zevon, "Lawyers, Guns, and Money"
Bubblegum Crisis: "Tinsel City Rhapsody," "Revenge Road," "Moonlight Rambler"
Star Trek: The Next Generation
S.M. Stirling, Snowbrother
"Frank Mills" Hair: Original Broadway Cast
"Lyndon Johnson Told the Nation" Tom Paxton
Oingo Boingo, "Dead Man's Party"
Woody Guthrie, "Miss Pavlichenko"
RUN-DMC, "Christmas in Hollis"
15 January 1988: Israeli police and Palestinian protestors clash at the Dome of the Rock, several police and at least 70 protestors injured
"Here," Luna hands Angharad a box.
Angharad accepts the gift, for the smallish box is wrapped in a page of the previous day's newspaper, and has a bow tied with a green ribbon, and asks, "Why the present?"
"You're 15 today, so you need a good present," Luna says, smiling, standing closer than normal.
"Really?" Angharad smiles back, "I'd not kept track," she grabs Luna's hand, and heads for her office.
Luna props herself against the desk, and Angharad drops down in her chair, carefully untying the ribbon before slitting the tape with her fingernails.
Luna laughs, "I wrapped that in newspaper so you could rip it off."
"I haven't had so many presents that I want to rush it," Angharad says, shifting the box off to the side while she folds the wrapping paper back up, "Thank you, you know," she goes silent as she pulls the box back in front of herself, "I like," she pauses, running her hands over the velvet-covered box, a brilliant emerald green, smaller than a cigar box, "I appreciate that you know when my birthday is."
"You are important to me, of course I know when your birthday is, as well as when it should be," Luna smiles, ruffles Angharad's hair, "So I can get you more presents."
Angharad blinks, a little shiny-eyed, and lifts the lid of the box. Inside is a pair of drop-style earrings and a pendant, brilliant green stones wrapped in silver metal, accented by a spray of smaller clear stones each, the pendant having a blue and a brown stone set to either side of the green one. The big stones aren't very big, oval, maybe eight millimeters on their long sides, "These are pretty," she says.
"Gem grade Apatite, set in platinum, accented by diamonds," Luna shrugs, "I thought the green would go well with your eyes."
Angharad hesitates a moment, then reaches up to cup Luna's cheek in her hand.
Luna leans into the touch, the corners of her lips curving up even further.
Angharad pulls her closer as she leans up and in.
Their lips meet, and Angharad's eyes drift closed as her free hand comes to rest on Luna's hip.
3 February 1988: the U.S. House of Representatives rejects President Reagan's request for $36.5 million to support the Contras
Harry's hair, he's found, is just the wrong length. It is long enough to get in his face, but not long enough to tuck behind his ears. He could cheat, and just fold into a shape with longer hair, but then he'd have to remember that every time until he gave up or got used to it, or he could continue to let it grow on it's own, and get used to it gradually, or he could cut it back to where he had it before, almost as long and fluffy as k.d. lang.
He really likes having Luna play with his hair, however. A moment later, he dives Between to his office, and digs in his drawer full of present wrappings, finding, right on top, a length of green ribbon. He pulls his hair back, and ties the ribbon in a big bow over the top of his head and under his hair in the back. He walks down the hall to the latrine, and looks in the mirror, "Yeah, the bow's a bit much for a boy," he tells his reflection, and slides it to the left until the bow is at the back of his neck, under his hair, mostly, "Much better."
Luna, as hoped, tells him it looks nice.
17 February 1988: Oshakati Bomb Blast in South West Africa (Namibia) kills 27, injures 70
"Are we doing anything about South Africa?" Angharad asks Olmayra, setting the paper down on the table.
"No, not right now. Luna says Apartheid will fall soon, and South West Africa will become Namibia. We're still impaling bandits by the dozens. We haven't caught Joseph Kony yet, but we have pretty much wiped out the LRA. Things are actually pretty good in South Africa, and they are going to get better."
Angharad nods, "It's just sad when people bombing banks is 'Pretty good.'"
Olmayra gives her a hug.
24 February 1988: SCOTUS protects the right of parody in Hustler v. Falwell
"Read this," Luna says, dropping a girly mag in Harry's lap, open to an ad, Jerry Falwell's picture on the left, a bottle of Campari on the left, and a whole lot of funny lies in the middle. And a flat claim of "ad parody - not to be taken seriously" in small print at the bottom.
"Yes?
"The U.S. Supreme Court just affirmed that it is a parody of a public figure, and as such is protected by their first amendment."
"Just when you decide they're all asshole, they go and admit the Contras have lost and funny things are funny," Harry gently cups the back of Luna's head, and leans up. Luna obliges.
13 March 1988: Seikan Tunnel between Honshu and Hokkaido opens
"I beg your pa~rdon," Lessa sings, reading logistics reports, glad, still, at the building cash reserve, that they can afford to fly the HINDs they've acquired over the last couple years, that they can actually buy PL-2s for the F-7s, "I never promised you a rose garden, along with the sunshine, there's gonna be a little rain sometime."
"I could promise you things like big diamond rings, but you don't find roses growing on stalks of clover," and the Kfirs, with their stupid-spendy Sidewinders, and nearly as bad Pythons.
Training is worse, just because they are growing so fast, "I could promise you the moon, but if that's what it takes I'd just as soon let you go," having doubled in size again over the last six months.
14 March 1988: Mobile Suit Gundam: Char's Counterattack released in Japan
The Assassin's anime fen, now numbering more than a hundred, climb out of their dragon-bags in Koganei park.
Luna, Angharad, and Olmayra fold into human shape. Like the rest of the Assassins, they are wearing civilian clothes, Luna a pale blue blouse and darker blue ankle-length crepe skirt, Angharad an emerald green v-neck sweater, to show off her firestone necklace, and black slacks, and Olmayra, annoyed by male attention the last time she was in Japan, is a boy, in jeans and a black t-shirt.
Three Assassins, not anime fen, but getting extra pay for the inconvenience, stay to guard the dragon-bags.
Angharad, her Japanese much improved, greets Anno and the Gainax delegation.
16 March 1988: Halabja chemical attack in Iraq
"We need to go, they're prepping the bombs right now, we need to steal them, Saddam is in the palace to the south of Adhamiyah, tonight's the night, let's go!" Luna babbles, pulling Harry from, a grope to check, his bed.
"What's up?"
"They will be sortieing jets with chemical weapons, sarin, cyanide, and mustard gas, against a Kurdish Iraqi town the Iranians took recently."
"Who?" Harry asks, then clarifies, "Who's attacking with poison gas?"
"The Iraqi government, which mostly means Saddam Hussein," Luna says.
"What are we going to do about it?"
"Destroy all the fighter planes on Al Asad airbase, steal a bunch of poison gas bombs, and drop them on the palace Saddam is in."
Harry nods, following Luna to the dragon hangar, and they both unfold into great bronze dragons, lift the lid on the firestone bin, and start grinding a mouthful each of the soft sedimentary rocks between their teeth, feeling the familiar gurgle in their tummies as phosphine gas begins to form.
A moment later they pop out of Between, warm desert air around them, and a large airbase beneath them, MiG and Mirage fighters already on the aprons by the runways, pilots, ordinance techs, fuelers, and mechanics running about purposefully.
Seconds later flames are washing among them, first uniforms and fuel hoses catching, then airmen, planes and fuel trucks. As the two dragons come up the other apron, the poison gas bombs start cooking off, and the medical and fire teams stop advancing, backing away from the clouds, some calling higher, others just turning around outright. After the pass down the second apron Harry asks Luna, "Good enough?"
"Grab as many bombs as you can carry," Luna affirms, grabbing up a trailer full of bombs in each of his four taloned hands. Harry does the same, and follows Luna Between to a barren stretch of desert.
Luna lands first, setting down her bombs, circling until Harry's hands are empty, then folding into a human.
"You're a boy this time," Harry says, copying Luna in pulling the red-labeled pins, some of which say 'Remove Before Flight' in English, the others probably saying the same thing in Russian and Arabic.
"I have a tummy full of firestone," Luna says, "Probably safer this way."
They unfold, Remove Before Flight ribbons blowing in the wind of their liftoff, catch up their bombs, and dive Between, appearing low over the Tigris River, well below the flak already going up all around, and Harry follows Luna, dropping his bomb carts slightly after he pulls up, and they backwing, slowing, watching the bombs plunge and scatter, clouds of different colored smoke indicating that at least some of the bombs exploded, and people start trying to flee the palace buildings, which are engulfed in smoke and a little flame.
A group of men, mostly soldiers, try to hustle a man in a gas mask to a car. Luna breaks off, back over the Tigris, and returns with a motor scooter in one hand, which he throws, side-arm, smashing several of the bodyguards and crushing the man in the gas mask between the crumpled car door and the car. After a moment Harry can tell he's not breathing, and Luna touches his hand.
*~ aWNB ~*
Home again, the two of them shudder, gasp, and heave, puking up disgusting, wet, slimy piles of firestone ash. Harry feels around in his mouth to make sure he got it all out, flicking bits of depleted rock out with his tongue and talons, A drink from the big trough, a swish, another feel around with his tongue, Luna doing much the same on the other side of the trough, and he folds into human girl form, pleased to note she managed to fold into her girl clothes, and has them on straight. She smiles up at Luna, who is still taller than even her Angharad form, although it is getting closer, "Shall we go get drunk? The older kids recommend it after a mission like that," Angharad holds out a hand, "And we've already puked."
Luna nods, "With kisses and groping?"
Angharad laughs, "Only if you want too." She snuggles close once Luna takes her hand, and they go in search of a bottle.
"This stuff is a very pretty blue," Angharad says, grabbing up a square bottle from the officer's alcohol stash, "Like Romulan Ale."
"That's supposed to be a not-bad gin," Luna nods, "Should be good enough."
They match numbers in the booze logbook, print, sign, and date, then walk off with their booty.
"I think," Angharad says carefully, "This shit's worse than beer."
Luna pulls Angharad a little closer with one arm, and takes the glass in her free hand, "I think you're right," she takes another drink anyway, "This stuff's really yucky."
Angharad accepts the glass back, "We've already iced it," she takes a drink, passes the glass, "Tonic water is awful all by itself, much less mixed with this," she frowns, turning into Luna's shoulder, mutters into her neck, "What is it with killing people and self-poisoning?"
"Alcohol loosens inhibitions, which makes it easier to talk about what we just did," She kisses Angharad's forehead before pressing her cheek against it, "And it blurs the memories, a little, or a lot, which can help with the trauma of war."
"I think," Angharad twists to kiss the underside of Luna's jaw, "Being in charge of things, being in control, being the fucking badass of the battlefield helps with that a lot," she takes the glass, takes a swig, "Yuck. As does leaving all the hard and scary parts to other people," she twists a little more, so she's sideways in Luna's lap, and kisses her on the lips, pulls back, "We are never stuck on the defense, waiting for an attack, wondering if that shriek of incoming fire has our name on it, if we're gonna die today. We're out in front, having chosen the battlefield, and our targets, and we know that all the bastards we burned alive today, all of the soldiers we gassed, Saddam and his bodyguards, they were going to do close enough to the same to three to ten thousand more. The wind was still, so we probably didn't kill too many people on either side of the Tigris," Angharad offers the glass to Luna, who shakes her head.
Angharad sways to the sink, dumps the last half-inch or so of blue liquid down, and refills the glass with water, setting it on the table. The lid is screwed tight, and the bottle goes in the fridge, next to the seven-year scotch, the twelve-year bourbon, and four bottles of German beer. "We look like alcoholics."
Luna laughs, hugging Angharad from behind before taking the fridge door from her hand and closing it, "We'd have to actually finish our booze for that. Mostly we collect it."
"But it's so yucky," Angharad whines, turning in Luna's arms, "We'll share it out next time we have an officer party."
"A ball," Luna corrects, "We can donate it for the grog, and have dancing and food for everyone."
They cuddle into bed, sharing a couple glasses of water, and eventually fall asleep after a little bit of groping.
16 March 1988: LTC Oliver North and VADM John Poindexter indicted on charges of conspiracy to defraud the U.S.
"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," Lessa waves at the TV over lunch chow, "I hope he rots in jail."
"They'll fuck up the trial, and he'll be out on a technicality in a couple years," Luna tells her, playing with the shorter girl's hair, stroking the green ribbon holding it back.
"Ah well," Lessa sighs, "Will he at least be in jail a while?"
16 March 1988: Milltown Cemetery attack 3 dead, 70 wounded during an IRA funeral
"Now it's time to save a dragon," Luna says, catching up Harry's hand. He nods, walks them over to the Range Safety Officer.
"Pedro," he greets Teniente Espinoza, one of their Honduran recruits, "We're going to go run some errands, let Jim," Capitán Jim Croce, the new Bravo company commander, "Know we've left."
"Will do, GM."
*~ aWNB ~*
"Where are we going to find our dragon? And do we need anything?"
"Just ourselves, and it's a when as much as a where," Luna shares the positions of the stars, framed by stone in a bathroom window, and with a squeeze of their hands they dive Between.
They pop out into frigid air, a young woman screaming, and a huge wooden club being waved around by a grey-skinned humanoid. Harry glances around the room, even as a blue he'd be too big for this room, and heads toward the screams.
Luna unfolds into Ruth, the tiny white dragon still overwhelming in the confined space, and wraps his jaws around the attacker's throat, jerking the creature sideways off its feet. He puts one hand on the thing's club hand, the other on its chest, and jerks his head firmly, severing its spine moments before ripping its head off.
Harry has found a scared girl, maybe as old as he is, and is trying to calm her as Ruth spits out the creature's head, making spitting and gargling noises as he tries to use the sputtering water flow from the broken sinks to wash out the taste and black blood.
"What is your name?" Harry asks, sweeping some of the girl's bushy brown hair from her face.
She whimpers a little and pulls back further against the wall, hitting her head with a solid Thump.
Harry refolds into a girl form, and tries again, "What is your name?"
"How . . . " the girl starts, "How did you do that?" she reaches out, brushes Lessa's cheek with her fingers.
"I'm a dragon," Lessa stands, catching the girl's hand, pulling her to her feet, "Luna?"
"Trolls taste bad," Luna steps over, scrubbing her wet, almost blood-free, face with her hands, "I thought they should, but there is a difference between thinking and knowing."
"Do you want me to bite the next troll?"
"Please," Luna gives Lessa a quick hug, then turns to the girl, "Hermione Granger," her warm smile widens to a grin, "Come with us if you want to live."
Hermione takes a deep breath, nods, and grabs Luna's hand, "Let's go."
17-20 March 1988: Battle of Afabet in Eritrea
"The Assassin's Guild is a mercenary company, well, more brigade now, and the League of Dragons, we're more like freelance police. Somalia isn't paying much, Eritrea can't, but, and the benefits of intervening are really small," Lessa looks at the newspaper on the desk, under the large-scale map of the horn of Africa, "Shit's bad all over, and,' she shakes her head, "Let's go flying."
Hermione shakes her head, "I don't like brooms."
"What do brooms . . . " Lessa nods, "Luna said her mom is a witch, but really? Flying brooms?"
"Yes," Hermione nods, "How do you fly?"
"In dragon shape. You have read The Dragonriders of Pern, right?"
"No."
Lessa sighs, "Then it may be a little more difficult for you to unfold, but Olmayra did it on the first try." She led the way out into the warm afternoon, into the shade of the date palms planted around Guild headquarters on the outskirts of Mogadishu. "Dragons, Pernese dragons, were genetically engineered from fire lizards, long ago, and like fire lizards come in colors, blues, browns, and bronzes are male, greens and golds are female, and all are hatched from the same parents. You, like me, like Luna, like Olmayra, are a dragon, capable of diving Between to anywhere, anywhen, you want to go and can hold your breath long enough to get to." Harry steps back, and unfolds into a great gold dragon, "I call this form Ramoth, after the gold from Dragonflight," she hunkers down, offering an arm, "Come up, get a closer look."
Hermione climbs up, paying special attention to Ramoth's iridescent faceted eyes, the jointing of her wings, the sinuous curve of her neck, then climbs down, takes a deep breath, and unfolds.
Gold Hermione is a little smaller than Ramoth, and she takes a moment to look at her taloned hands, brush her face against her wing membranes, then turns to Ramoth, "How do we fly?"
29 March 1988: ANC representative Dulcie September assassinated outside her office in Paris
"Dulcie was a soft target, but we need to rescue her, and having her on the payroll would be helpful, I think," Olmayra says,
"Are we going to impale her killer?" Hermione asks.
"You haven't impaled anyone yet, have you?" Olmayra asks.
4 April 1988: Governor Evan Mecham of Arizona convicted in his impeachment trial and removed from office
Hermione, in girl-form, is biting her hand while watching Harry, Angharad, since he's a girl with green eyes right now, and Luna indulge in a very public display of affection. The older girls are sitting very close together, and sparing half their attention for each other, and the other half for what's going on on the TV.
Gundam Zeta is playing on the chow-hall VCR, and the boy? Camiyu, is fighting with the blue-haired girl, Murasame? who he was on a date or something with just a little bit before, but has a double-sized giant robot, and half the watchers are yelling advice at the TV, and the other half are telling them to shut up so they can hear Capitán Crewe, who's translating. Angharad has her face buried in Luna's neck, Hermione can hear her whimper, and Luna is stroking her hair, murmuring softly, "I know, this will end badly. You don't need to watch it, if you don't want to."
"Can we pay Tomino to make a version where Camille shanghais her, and they are happy together?"
"I don't think Tomino likes happy endings."
"It doesn't have to be a happy ending, but a happy middle and dying together at the end," Angharad tells Luna's neck, hugging her tightly, "That'd be a lot better than what I expect."
"What do you expect?"
"He dies, she dies, everybody dies."
"It's worse than that."
"Oh," Angharad says in a small voice, then climbs into Luna's lap, slouching down between her thighs, and wrapping Luna's hands around her belly.
"Skootch down a bit more," Luna tells her, then rests her chin on the top of Angharad's head.
10 April 1988: Ojhiri Camp in Pakistan suffers an ammo dump explosion, killing more than 93 and wounding another 1,100
"I think we're going shopping!" Luna exclaims happily, setting the report down.
"What do you mean," Hermione asks, looking appalled at the death toll from the accident.
"The more of their ammo we steal, the fewer people it will kill when the ammo dump goes up," Lessa explains, "We'll bring in," she pauses a moment, "Forty, that's ten for each of us, and just ransack the place. If it really is a supply dump for the Afghan Mujahideen they might have good stuff like Stinger missiles or TOWs."
Olmayra heads towards the door, "I'm grabbing my squad."
14 April 1988: USSR commits to withdrawal from Afghanistan
"Char's Counterattack is still in theaters, if you want to see it. The fight scenes are awesome," Olmayra tells Hermione, "Grave of the Fireflies, which should be awesome and sad, is coming out Saturday."
"Why should it be awesome?"
"Because it's by Studio Ghibli, the same people who did Nausicaa and Laputa."
"And sad?"
"Because the book is about a couple of kids starving to death at the end of World War Two."
Hermione leans back against the wall to think.
16 April 1988: Israeli commandos kill Abu Jihad of the PLO at his home in Tunis
The anime-fen make a boisterous group on the way to see Grave of the Fireflies, and a less boisterous group on the way home.
Totoro cheers everyone, even Hermione, back up again.
16 April 1988: Italy's Red Brigades terrorists kill Senator Roberto Rufili
Capitán Harry Crewe, representing the Assassin's Guild, finally gets to talk to the Iranian government about claiming Alamut.
It doesn't go well, until he starts offering money. Lots of money.
18 April 1988: US Navy retaliates for Iranian attack on the frigate USS Samuel B. Roberts, striking Iranian oil platforms and naval vessels
"I'm an innocent bystander, and somehow I got stuck," Lessa is singing, "between a rock and a hard place, and I'm down on my luck."
Hermione turns to Luna, who's also listening, but reading a fairly thick book, "Does she do this often?"
"Lessa sings," Luna says, then goes quiet for a moment, "Angharad likes hugs, and Harry hides."
"Send lawyers, guns, and money, someone get me out of this," Lessa continues the song.
"Are they separate people?"
"No, just different ways of interacting with the world."
4 May 1988: PEPCON plant fire and explosions in Henderson, NV
Hermione screws up her courage, "Gryffindors go forward," she says under her breath, and steps up to Angharad, "May I have a hug?"
"Sure," Angharad half-shrugs as she answers.
Hermione wraps her arms about the taller girl. Angharad squeezes her back, then pets her hair with one hand, "What's up?"
"I was just wondering something about myself," Hermione answers.
"Oh?" Angharad asks her, then continues after a minute, "Did you figure it out?"
"Maybe."
16 May 1988: U.S. Surgeon General reports that nicotine is addictive
"Another one for the books," Hermione says, "Tobacco is addictive. Wow."
"Think about how long the tobacco companies have been trying to keep people from believing that. It is a big thing," Luna tells her, "Are you feeling better?"
Hermione nods, shading a little green, "I'd prefer if I never need to impale anyone ever again."
"I'd prefer that, too, since it would mean the world was looking after itself, finally."
16 May 1988: SCOTUS rules that a search warrant is not need for discarded trash in California v. Greenwood
Capitán Crewe slides the LaserDisc from its jacket, and feeds the album-sized optical disk into the player.
"YOUMEX Presents," appears on the screen, then demolition explosions, helicopters noises, a huge conical building, sirens, then the instrumentals transition into a woman in a blonde wig singing "Konya wa Hurricane" as a blue robot, a boomer, and the AD Police proceed to make a mess of Tokyo.
11 June 1988: the GNU General Public License named
Olmayra sets down the bag full of Assassins, and dives Between for the bag of Volunteers, followed by the pallet of consumables, and finally the drilling rig, setting it down as the sun peeks over the horizon.
She repeats the process three times, setting out well-drilling rigs.
After breakfast, she starts on a part she likes better, because it has more interaction with the people who benefit.
The livestock are already in the transport cage, protected from the sight and smell of a dragon. Six Assassins are strapped into their seats at the top, under the roll cage. Olmayra snatches the cage up by the handles, and dives Between with it.
They spend the morning distributing young cattle and goats, and then much of the afternoon buying up this year's yearlings from villagers who have extra.
Once the transport cage is full, Olmayra takes it back to the Assassin's Somali base. Assassin veterinarians will check over the new animals, and another six Assassins will re-load the cage with animals coming out of quarantine and help distribute them tomorrow.
After lunch, Olmayra dives Between, to pick up the three drilling crews who had finished work, the fourth crew she set out two days ago had finished early, and been picked up yesterday.
She has a bag of Volunteers in her hands when the call comes in, "We have a bandit gang with shoulder-launched anti-air missiles, we need dragon support," from one of their HIND pilots. She sets them down a little roughly at the Somali base, and dives Between to headquarters.
Three days of fire and maneuver eradicates the state-sponsored bandits, secure a pile of interesting intelligence,
and capture a pile of mostly-Soviet materiel.
14 June 1988: The Storm Creek fire starts, eventually burning over 750,000 acres in Yellowstone National Park
Olmayra slumps in her chair, watching Star Trek, feeling tired and discouraged, because she's been killing bandits in Africa for, she thinks a moment, years, it must have been, with all the Timing she's done, and there are still more.
"You look like I feel," Hermione, who'd helped with the bandits over the last few days, says, slumping onto the arm of Olmayra's chair, "Hug?"
"Please," Olmayra suits deed to word, and gathers the younger, slighter girl into her lap.
23 June 1988: James Hansen testifies to the U.S. Senate that man-made global warming has begun
Hermione looks again, surprised to see Angharad's necklace and earrings, "Why don't you wear those more often? They suit you."
"Because the colored stones are apatite, firestone. Soft, vulnerable to even weak acids, and they break easily. Not the best for common wear, but they are very appropriate for a dragon's jewelry," she laughs, "I wear the ribbon she wrapped them with more often," she touches the green ribbon holding her hair back, Alice-style, that she, and he, literally wears every day.
"It is very pretty," Hermione agrees, even if she doesn't quite thinks it works when he's a boy.
"What do you like to wear?" Angharad waves her calf-length emerald green wool skirt, which she thinks goes well with the with the green v-neck sweater she'd worn the last time she was in civilian clothes, "I haven't seen you in anything besides your school and Assassin's uniforms."
"I don't know," Hermione flops down on a chair opposite Angharad, "I haven't been shopping because I'm shooting up like a weed, I've grown more over the last few months than I did all of last year, and I like my uniform," she shakes one of her blouse-pockets, which rattles, "I never really carried much before, but now I see why boys like pockets. I like pockets," she sighs, "And girl-clothes have a dearth of pockets, and it's just easier to wear my uniform than try to figure something else out to wear."
"You can have pockets added," Angharad says, "But that easy thing is why I wear my uniform almost all the time."
"Maybe we, the dragons, could go clothes shopping?"
"Or we could have Luna talk to the costume designer, we do need League of Dragon's uniforms."
"Or both."
24 June 1988: Section 28 is passed as law by UK Parliament
So, after a day's work, and a nights sleep, the four dragons dive Between to the previous morning. Having done everything they could find to do that day, and, for Olmayra, that involved another six hours timed back already, they set out to Albuquerque to start their shopping adventure with a stop at their costume-designer's house.
Some quick sketches and talking later, money changes hands, and the Dragons agree to come back in a week for a fitting.
That done, they head to London at 0900, on High Street, which isn't quite the center of retail it might once have been, but is still full of shops. They waste, literally, hours. Some things are pretty, some things are durable, and some have pockets. Almost nothing meets all three criteria, and at that kind of price, you could buy a new rifle for what they want for a lot of these garments, it would have to.
They disappoint the shopkeeps, and head to Paris, also at 0900. They finally find something Hermione wants, and Luna insists on buying Lessa a pair of pants, but Olmayra is very annoyed.
She takes everyone to her mother's house, in Armero Guayabal, a few miles from the ruins of Armero.
"So, we were shopping in London, and in Paris, and," she sighs, "Mama, it was awful, they had nothing to buy. They had pretty clothes, or durable ones, and nothing had pockets," Olmayra's complaining.
"They'll have a market tomorrow, a couple towns down the mountain, if you want to buy something traditional. Tough and pretty, but old-fashioned," her mother says.
Luna shrugs, "That would be nice, I'm sure."
"Can you stay for dinner?" Olmayra's mother looks at her hopefully, "I can put you up for the night."
Olmayra looks to Lessa, who shrugs, "I have no objections."
*~ aWNB ~*
"Arukou, arukou, watashi wa genki," Lessa is singing the next morning, as they ride the bus with Olmayra's mother, "tanuki mo, kitsune mo, don don yukou."
Hermione finds a brown poncho she adores, and Lessa a green and stripey skirt with multiple deep pockets.
6 July 1988: Piper Alpha oil platform in the North Sea destroyed by fire and explosion, 165 workers and 2 rescuers killed, 61 workers survive
Today's mission is another game of Firefox, raiding the Soviet troops in Afghanistan this time, stealing HINDs and tanks. Sixty Assassins pop from Between onto the airfield, and quickly secure the area. Helicopters are drawn Between first, then the T-72s, then the BMPs, then the ammo. Last are the Assassins, without a single shot fired.
20 July 1988: Michael Dukakis nominated as the Democratic Presidential candidate
Angharad, in her stripey Columbian skirt, is leaned back against the wall, Luna's arms around her neck, waiting with Caption Crewe and his wife Noriko. The video shop will open in a couple hours, and they are in the front-half of the line.
Hermione asks from next to them, "Are they all here to buy "Revenge Road?""
Noriko answers, but Angharad is distracted by Luna's kiss.
Hermione is a little distracted, too, and rubs her chin a moment before going back to her mostly green-covered paperback, titled Snowbrother.
6-7 August 1988: Tompkins Square Park Riot in NYC
"I met a boy called Frank Mills," Lessa sings, quietly, as always, "On September Twelfth right here, in front of the Waverly, but unfortunately, I lost his address."
She watches the police surround the park, and the protestors with their signs, "Gentrification is Class War."
"He was last seen with his friend, a drummer who resembles George Harrison, of the Beatles, but he wears his hair tied in a small bow at the back," she smiles, touches the green ribbon in her hair, and walks to a place in front of the protestors.
She is singing a different song, "Sank in mud up to my hip, cussed until the Captain calmed me down," when the police respond to a thrown bottle with a charge, truncheons swinging. She smiles, unfolding, and hisses over bared feathered serpent fangs, spreading great black and green wings, her crest erect and bristling against the night, well lit by the surrounding buildings and streetlights, "Are you sure this is what you should be doing?"
The police stagger to a stop, and one starts shooting. She noses him gently, knocking him off his feet, "Stop that, you might shoot someone."
Everyone is so wrong-footed they just stare. Lessa breaks the silence, "Anyone want to join the Assassin's Guild? Pay's good, food's good, and you get to help people. You don't have to sleep in a park if you don't want to. All sorts of positions, combat and non-combat, are available."
Sargento de Segunda Lewis, her current squad leader, gives her an almost disbelieving look, then pulls out a stack of brochures, splits it for her team leaders, Sargento de Tercera Johnson and Sargento de Tercera Thomas, to hand out, and sets her Soldado to recruiting while the feathered serpent provides security.
*~ aWNB ~*
"So, better or worse, without the riot?"
"Five of our new recruits would have wound up dead, over the next few years, of various privations, and another twelve would have been raped, over the same period, so it's definitely better for them," Luna says, "and they are talking about gentrification instead of police brutality, but Ward is still commissioner. Probably a wash."
"At least it was fun, and no one died," Angharad gathers Luna into a hug, "Thank you."
8 August 1988: 8888 Uprising, thousands of anti-government protesters killed in Burma
Burma is a tougher fix, with deeper roots. Or maybe just better documented ones.
Olmayra is repeating an old lesson to Hermione, "As a dragon, if you are in a fair fight, you've fucked it up, bad. Go back and start over again." She looks out over the crowds, the soldiers firing on protesters in front of the U.S. Embassy, "And this is not a fair fight. How could the Assassins win this?"
Hermione shivers at the sounds of gunfire, the screams of the injured, the sight of hundreds shot and dying, "Air strikes against the BSPP, shooting Ne Win and his assholes, maybe we could take out enough of the bureaucracy for democracy to seep in."
"That might work. How could the League win?"
"Hmm," Hermione twitches at the sound of another gunshot, "Last fall they pulled a bunch of money, so probably the best thing would be to decapitate the BSPP before then."
"Should the League or the Guild be seen to do this, to rescue Burma?"
"Only if we can have Gamera or a feathered serpent do it, since both of those have already intervened in world affairs recently. It might be good advertising, but it would raise bad attention about what we can, and will, do."
"So how do we fix this?"
"We write down all the assholes, and then we kill them, and pin the blame on Thai pirates."
"Or Khmer Rouge remnants," Olmayra suggests, "We want someone believable, but not someone who'll start a war."
"I'm guessing you have a list already."
"No, you need to make it, and decide when we're going to, what we are going to wear, and how we are going to frame the crime."
"And if I fuck it up?"
"We do it over again until you get it right."
20 August 1988: Iran-Iraq war ends
Iraq finally has a proper government again, after the instability caused by Saddam's death, and the 'random' assassinations of many Iraqi politicians. The new Iraqi government is firmly of the opinion that the Kurds need their own country, and has made that a sticking-point for declaring the Iran-Iraq war over.
The Iranians have finally agreed, provided the Turks can be convinced, and the Iraqi government is signing papers to that effect today.
The Turks and the Kurds are protesting, one for going too far, and the other for not going far enough.
12-15 September 1988: Hurricane Gilbert devastates Jamaica and the Yucatan
Ramoth pops out of Between, letting the category three winds blow her along as she folds into Angharad, then unfolds again, concentrating on the points of the ears and the catlike snarl.
"Skree-aunk!" Angharad roars, even her giant voice lost in the roar of the storm, the splash as her new, hundred meter tall, form made a perfect parachute landing fall into the ocean. She poses, floating head and tail-tip out of the water, then swims for the Cuban freighter she intends to catch.
22 September 1988: Blowout and fire at the Ocean Odyssey rig in the North Sea
"Only three hundred dead from Gilbert so far," Lessa says, "A Cuban freighter and a shrimp boat in the Gulf, most of the dead are in Jamaica and the Yucatan."
Luna nods, "Drop some concrete storm shelters, and get people out of harms way. 150 or so of the dead are from washed away evacuation buses out of Monterey, so that's a priority. Lots of people homeless, lots of property destruction, so we'll get to that afterwards."
"Sounds good," Hermione says, "Who's going where, and when?"
29 September 1988: Space shuttle Discovery launched, resuming shuttle flights
The Assassin's anime-fen, mostly, are in civilian clothes, clumped up in the crowds around Cape Canaveral, listening to the countdown. At thirty they are all watching the launch pad, the tip of the drop tank and boosters visible over the trees. At about three seconds to go the main engines light, and about six seconds later the shuttle clears the tower, and it is a tense minute and a quarter before they announce throttle up.
Luna's bouncing in Angharad's arms, cuddled close. Hermione's attention is split between them and the shuttle, still visible to the naked eye as it climbs away, a certain misty longing in her eyes.
5 October 1988: Thousands riot against Algerian government, hundreds killed
The newspaper is shoved across the table to Hermione, who reads the headline, "You want me to fix this."
"Without strengthening the fundies or weakening us," Angharad says, "Olmayra said you did a very good job on Burma."
"I'll get on it, then," she sighs, "This is probably going to be months of work, just like Burma," she looks up at Angharad, "Can I have a hug first?"
"Sure."
Hermione then asks, wrapped in Angharad's arms, "Can I get a kiss, too?"
"Luna?"
Luna gives them each a kiss on the lips.
Hermione looks up at Angharad, her eyes wide and glistening, a certain pleading about the set of her cheeks.
7 October 1988: War of the Worlds TV series premiers
Hermione's noticeably taller when she plops down on Luna's lap that evening, and leans over to give Angharad a kiss on the cheek before getting sucked into the story, as the aliens awaken and start wreaking havoc.
A few days later, the anime-fen, mostly, descend on a movie theater in Colorado Springs, to see Alien Nation.
"I really like," Hermione says, holding Angharad's hand as they walk out of the theater, "How the Newcomers are just people. Different people, but people. Good ones and bad ones."
Luna hip-checks her, "Yep."
Hermione bomps her back.
Angharad, not wanting to be left out of the game, bomps Hermione on her next step, swinging her into Luna again.
30 October 1988: Jericho bus firebombing in the West Bank
"It's a dead man's party, who could ask for more," Lessa sings, looking in her closet, and wondering if she's actually going to dress up for the Halloween party, "Everybody's coming, leave your body at the door, leave your body and soul, at the door."
"You could be Hikaru," Hermione tells her, "I could be Misa," she pauses a moment, "Luna could be Minmay, maybe?"
"I don't know if we want to do Macross," Lessa says, "and we'd have to time it to get the costumes done in time, we really put this off too late."
"Do you know any good stories with three characters?"
"Kimagure Orange Road," Luna says, leaning against the doorframe, "You could be Kyousuke, or Akane, I'd be Hikaru, and Angharad could be Madoka. But the costumes aren't very recognizable."
"We'd need a red straw hat, too," Hermione agrees, "Maybe non-anime?"
"Dragons are too big for parties," Lessa says, "I don't want to be a hobbit, Kirk, Bones, and Spock?"
Hermione shakes her head, "Eew."
"Girl-Kirk, Girl-Bones, and Girl-Spock?" Luna offers.
"No," Hermione denies.
"Ripley, Newt, and, what's her name, Ramirez?"
"There is a horrible lack of girls in SF, at least TV and movie SF, isn't there?" Lessa says, "If we age Newt up a lot, maybe."
"There's girls in Iczer One," Luna says, "One of them is even a blonde," she flicks her hair a moment, "There's plenty of female characters in Gundam, even if they tend to die horribly-"
"Everyone in Gundam tends to die horribly," Lessa defends.
"Gall Force is pretty much all girls-"
"Who die horribly," Lessa paraphrases.
"Yep, but keep getting reincarnated because they are too cheap to come up with new character designs. Um, Cutey Honey,"
"Two girls," Hermione sighs, "but I'd pay to see Honey and Na-chan get together."
"Urusei Yatsura," Luna offers
"Pretty costume designs," Lessa says, shrugging.
"Project A-Ko."
"Schoolgirl uniforms, pass," Hermione says, 'You would look cute with drill-hair," she tells Luna, referring to Iczer-One's wild blonde mane.
"We could all be boys," Lessa says, "And have Olmayra dress up with us."
"She can dress up with us anyway, but even in anime boy clothes tend to suck," Hermione says, "Dangaioh, Olmayra could be what's his name."
"Or she could be Pai, and you could be what's his name."
"So would you want to be Ranba or Miya?" Luna asks.
Olmayra does agree to be Rol Kran, but opts for a bodysuit and tights to match the girls, much to the slack-jawed bemusement of the anime-fen, who eventually agree that it does match better.
2 November 1988: Robert Tappan Morris releases the Great Worm, accidentally breaking the Internet
"It's going to be your birthday again, soon," Luna says, "What would you like?"
Hermione stops, turns to face Luna, and leans back on the wall to think, "I don't know," she tucks her hair behind her ear.
Luna smiles and nods.
"Something pretty," Hermione shrugs, "It's not like I can't buy myself pretty much whatever I could want, but I really don't want much. I'm not going to ask," she stops, waves her hand, "Doesn't matter, I have to get that myself. Maybe one of the F-16XLs and training to fly it? They're very pretty, even if I outclass them in every way," she pauses, corrects herself, "Well, I can't carry air to air missiles, but better in every other way, anyway."
"I'll talk to Lessa, see what the budget says," Luna steps up close, sliding her hand into Hermione's hair, cupping the back of her head, and pulls her, very slowly, close.
Hermione leans up the last few centimeters to kiss her.
8 November 1988: George H.W. Bush elected U.S. President
"How is this in any way better?" Angharad, and, for that matter, half the Assassins eating midnight chow, yells at the TV.
"He's not senile yet?" Hermione offers.
"That might have been one of his better points," Luna sighs.
"Can I bite this one?" Olmayra asks.
Angharad and Hermione lean in close for the answer.
"No, not if we want to buy American jets."
Hermione gives her a speculative look.
10 November 1988: USAF discloses the F-117 stealth fighter, ending years of speculation about the F-19
"I am not opposed to the idea," President Reagan tells Luna, "But it is not usual to sell front-line fighters to non-governmental organizations, let alone ones who have opposed our interests in the past."
"Having the F-16 XLs would help our negotiations with Iran," Luna tells him, leaning forward earnestly.
"What are you negotiating with Iran for?"
"The spiritual home of the Assassins, even though none of our Guild have ever lived there, is the mountain fortress of Alamut, which is in what is now Iran. We could just take it, but then we'd have to hold it."
"Against a rather rich, if small, nation."
"They would be a little smaller if you could convince the Turks to let go of their chunk of Kurdistan."
"I'm the lame duck now, so you'll probably need to discuss that with George."
"Probably, but you have a bit of rapport with many people, so I thought I would ask you, too."
President Reagan smiles, both recognizing and pleased by the flattery.
13 November 1988: an Ethiopian law student in Portland, OR, is beaten to death by Neo-Nazis
Hermione pops from Between, landing a few blocks from her destination, and her squad disembarks, forming up around her as she folds into her normal girl-shape.
Olmayra is dropping her squad a couple blocks on the other side, and will be hanging back to provide air support if needed.
Their client is walking with a friend, right near his apartment, not paying any attention to his surroundings, and Hermione sighs almost silently to herself. Some people have no paranoia.
The three idiots in the car have too much paranoia, and their girlfriends . . .
Her squad waits, as the three men get out of the car, cussing and threatening, working themselves up, and their girlfriends don't have enough sense to try and stop them.
One of them swings his bat first, a firm crack of wood on Seraw's flesh, and Hermione moves, grabbing the bat on the backswing, and pulling it.
The man stumbles, and his buddies yell, drawing back their bats to take a swing, and her squad tackles them to the ground.
Hermione kicks her man in the back of the knee, and gives the bat another tug. He bangs his knees on the asphalt of 31st street, and she drops the bat behind her.
"That was assault with a deadly weapon, intimidation in the first degree, and a violation of the Civil Rights act of 1968. I am not a lawyer, nor do I play one on TV. I am General de Brigada Granger, of the Assassin's Guild, and mister Seraw, as an Ethiopian citizen, is covered under our contract with the Ethiopian government."
"You are not a fucking general," one of the other men says. Hermione glances at him quickly, despite herself, then focuses back on her prisoner, "You're just a girl."
"I am not just a girl, but the Guild is a very young organization."
Eventually the Portland Police Department arrives, after the paramedics, and takes custody of the men.
15 November 1988: Soviet spaceplane Buran launches on it's only flight
Ramoth takes one last look at the video of Buran in orbit, and dives Between. Low Earth Orbit, she finds, is a little warmer than Between, but just as airless. She takes a quick look in a window, then dives Between back to Somalia.
15 November 1988: the PNC declares (in Algiers) an independent state of Palestine
"Why did you wait until after he hit me?" Seraw asks, rubbing the cast on his arm.
"Because you dying really motivated people to fight the neo-Nazis, but this was an easy fix, so I couldn't just do nothing and hope it worked out. Your father and son got a judgement of 12.5 million, but I'm pretty sure they prefer to have you than the money, particularly since the neo-Nazi's couldn't pay that much."
"Yes, I can see that. We can probably sue them anyway."
"This is America," Hermione agrees.
22 November 1988: the prototype B-2 bomber revealed in Palmdale, CA
"Miss Pavlichenko, well known to fame," Lessa sings softly to herself, prone unsupported, working the bolt of the Mosin-Nagant, "Russia's her country, fighting's her game," she brings her sites onto the 600 meter popup target, and squeezes the trigger gently. Blam. "Up come her sights, down comes a hun," she works the bolt, watching for the next target, "More than three hundred Nazis fell by her gun." Blam. "Fell by her gun." Blam. "Fell by her gun."
2 December 1988: Benazir Bhutto sworn in as Prime Minister of Pakistan
"We need to testify before the U.S. Senate about why they should sell us F-16 XLs." Luna tells Olmayra, "But that is next year, after Bush is sworn in."
20 December 1988: the United Nations Convention Against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances is signed in Vienna
"Happy Birthday!" Luna lets herself into Hermione's room, yelling loudly.
"Who's birthday?" Hermione asks, pistol in hand, but back on the bed, safety on, finger out of the trigger guard.
"Your birthday," Angharad says, bringing in a large cake, covered in coconut and caramel.
"Well, you got the cake right, if not the date," Hermione says, counting candles on the cake, "Or the number of candles."
"Luna says we missed your thirteenth birthday, so we're trying to make up for it."
Luna lights the 14 candles, then tells Angharad, "On three, One, Two, Three:
"Doom and gloom and dark despair
People dying everywhere
Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday"
The two sing slowly, deepening their voices to match the slow tempo of the song.
"May the cities in your wake
Burn like candles on your cake
Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday"
Hermione laughs merrily, "That's awesome!"
"Blow out the candles," Angharad encourages.
With a deep breath, Hermione does just that, before gathering the other two into a big hug.
21 December 1988: Pan Am Flight 103 blown up over Scotland
"It's Christmas time in Hollis, Queens," Angharad joins a group of Assassins in singing along with the radio, "Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens," she winces, just barely noticeably, blinks, and Luna gives her a hug.
Hermione notices that, and wraps her arms around them both.
25 December 1988: Bubblegum Crisis episode 5, "Moonlight Rambler" released.
Olmayra is at her mother's house, but the other three members of the League of Dragons are in Tokyo, waiting in line with Capitán Crewe and his wife. All five are in civilian clothes, for the plan is to meet up with Anno and several others from Gainax after they get done shopping, and before they split up for their Christmas dinners.
Hermione is dressed in a tan shirt and brown skirt, her hair tied back with a bronze ribbon. Brown apatite and diamonds glimmer at her ears and throat. Angharad is in the green outfit she wore the last time they waited in line to buy Bubblegum Crisis, and Luna is dressed similarly, although she has a very blue, and very anachronistic, tactical kilt instead of a skirt.
*~ aWNB ~*
Anno is the first to mention it, "Are the complementary outfits and jewelry a statement or?"
Hermione smiles back, "I hope so, Luna plays things a little close to the chest sometimes."
"You could have asked, and then I could have told you that both of you are mine."
"But you might have said no," Angharad gives her a poke, "It wasn't very likely, and I didn't expect it, but you could have."
At the end of 1988, Olmayra is 18, Luna is 17, Lessa/Harry/Angharad is 16, and Hermione is 14.
Log:
Early May 2017: Reading too many Harry Potter fanfic, and thinking about how one cannot,
canonically, be a magical creature animagus. Pernese Dragons are non- magical . . .
.
.
.
16 June 2017: More.
18 June 2017: More. Finished 1985 first draft.
6 July 2017: More. Finished 1988 first draft.