I own nothing.
The Two Princes of Hogwarts
-Chapter Seven:
"I was spoiled by this summer," Harry grumbled as he staggered his way down towards breakfast. "I mean, I was up all night then too, but then I could just sleep until noon. Then I could nap after noon."
"Yeah," Ron grumbled.
"What were you guys doing all night?" Arkin asked.
"Asking us where we go when we disappear is one of those things Neville would prefer you didn't do," Hermione said kindly. They took their usual places at the table and ignored the fact that most of their housemates shuffled away as they began loading their plates.
"Hey," Neville grunted as he sat down. "Umbridge is alive." Harry glanced at his unwilling friend in annoyance.
"I only killed the one Defense teacher," he grumbled.
"Yes, fate and fortune took care of the rest," Neville shot back. Harry didn't really have an answer for that. "And if a person is themselves, is Lockhart truly alive?"
"He is physically," Harry announced firmly. "According to the Ministry, the body is what matters and that's why a Kiss isn't a death sentence."
"Huh," Neville grunted. His lips momentarily curled in disgust. "I guess you're right, but. . ."
"Yeah," Harry grunted back. "It doesn't feel really right, does it?" Neville nodded to show he understood. Harry massaged his temples. It was too early for ethics and philosophy.
"You killed a professor?" Arking asked in shock.
"It was self-defense," Harry said automatically. "He tried to kill me first. Multiple times."
"What's wrong with your hand Harry?" Harry glanced up in surprise to see Angelina looking at him. It was very unusual for any of them to ask questions. "It won't stop you from playing, right?" Harry stared at the woman blankly for a long moment before letting out a loud laugh, one that actually didn't make other students scramble away in panic as he adjusted the bandage that he was using to hide the back of his hand.
"Priorities," Ron grumbled, feeling almost as amused as his friend.
"Damn right," Angelina announced. "I need my seeker. If we can't win the House Cup, we can at least take the Quidditch Cup."
"Who says we won't win the House Cup?" Hermione demanded.
"You lot," Angelina pointed out.
"We haven't done anything yet!" Harry insisted.
"Yet?" Angelina repeated.
"You really have to stop saying yet," Ron commented.
"I really do," Harry whispered, mostly to himself.
"Plus, you did get a detention on your first day," Angelina added.
"That was only one of us," Hermione stated. "It's not like last year when we all had a detention on our first day." They were temporarily distracted as owls filled the great hall and Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet landed in front of her, just barely missing her eggs. "This year will be different."
"I'm sure, after all, there's no dragons for Harry to spook," Angelina shot back.
"Why are you challenging them?" Neville demanded. "No more. None of this!" That at least brought their conversation to an end as they began eating and Hermione began reading her newspaper.
"You scared a dragon?" Arkin asked.
"Yeah," Harry admitted.
"How?"
"You know, dragons are actually very. . ."
"No," Hermione interrupted, her nose still buried in her copy of the Prophet as a hand appeared to seize food. "Dragons are dangerous. Anyone that says otherwise is mad."
"But Harry. . ." Arkin began.
"I know what I said," Hermione stated. That was when the Inevitable announced itself.
"Mister Potter!" Ron turned and saw their head of house storming towards them.
"Uh oh." He turned back, but Harry was already gone.
"Oh no you don't!" Hermione snarled as she lunged under the table. She reappeared with the last Potter's ear between her fingers and began waving her other hand to get Minerva's attention.
"Okay, okay, okay!" Harry managed weakly as he squirmed in her grip. "What's happening?"
"This is happening!" Hermione snapped, stabbing a finger at the newspaper on the table. Ron leaned forward and stared at the document.
"Madman of Hogwarts found drunk in class," Harry read. "Okay? Just another load of bullshit." Minerva crashed to a halt at their table. "Good morning, Professor."
"Your solicitors wish to speak with you," Minerva stated. "Come with me." Harry stood up and Hermione did as well. Ron started to rise as well, but hesitated as the other two stared at him.
"You will behave, right?" the redhead asked.
"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded. Ron glanced at the Inevitable.
"I'll take care of it, Mister Weasley," Minerva stated. The tall student nodded and sat back down. "You're coming too Mister O'Brien."
"Me?" Arkin squeaked.
"Your mother is amongst Mister Potter's legal team. Follow me."
(:ii:)
Harry trailed along behind his head of house as he tried to figure out what was happening. He reached out and steered Hermione around a corner. The witch had been glaring at her copy of the Daily Prophet and growing more and more angry.
"What's happening?" Arkin whispered as he constantly tried to keep up with them on considerably shorter legs.
"I have no idea," Harry admitted as he took Hermione's shoulder again and pulled her to the side to avoid an open door. Minerva stopped in front of a door and Harry snagged Hermione before she could walk into their professor. The older woman opened the door and Harry marched Hermione into the room where two familiar faces and a stranger awaited.
"Mom!" Arkin chirped before charging at the woman. She knelt down to scoop him up into a hug. She offered Harry a smile and her hand.
"Grace O'Brien," she stated. "I'm Arkin's mother. He asked me to help you last night and when I saw the article this morning, I thought I should make an appearance. I didn't know that you had already retained council."
"Thank you," Harry replied as they shook hands. "This is Hermione, my friend." He elbowed the young woman's side to get her attention. She jumped and looked around for a moment before smiling and shaking the older woman's hand.
"Arkin has told me a lot about both of you and your other two friends," Grace stated. "I want to thank you for looking out for him."
"It's not a problem," Hermione said. "He's a good kid and very smart."
"I know," Grace replied as she rubbed her son's head before setting him down.
"Not to interrupt," Lie began, "but are you comfortable with Minerva being here?"
"Of course," Harry ventured, glancing back at his professor. "Wait, I still don't know what this is about. Maybe."
"The Daily Prophet has written some very disparaging things about you," Lie stated as he waved them towards the seats in the meeting room.
"Oh, Hermione told me," Harry said. "They're calling me a drunk or something. Professor McGonagall is fine."
"You seem oddly unbothered by this Mister Potter," Grace stated.
"Harry, please," he replied, "and honestly, it's always something. The Boy Who Lived. The Heir of Slytherin. The False Champion. The Madman of Hogwarts."
"The Dragon Spooker," Hermione added.
"That's a thing?" Harry asked. The curly haired witch nodded. "Huh. Anyway, it's always something. I just kind of. . .learned to ignore it?" Everyone present sighed. "What?"
"Harry, it's not normal for a newspaper to insult a minor," Amos stated. "They have no place defaming you."
"I mean, my medicine is alcohol based," Harry pointed out.
"Were you drunk in class?" Minerva asked blandly.
"No," Harry replied in confusion.
"Then this is libel, Mister Potter," Minerva ground out.
"If you can't worry about yourself, think of all the people this is insulting," Hermione growled.
"What?"
"This is mocking everyone suffering from mental issues," Hermione stated. "This isn't just about you now. They are insulting and trivializing everyone who takes medication like yours." Harry leaned back in his seat as he pondered that. "Imagine that you are a person on medication for something you can't control and suddenly everyone thinks you're a drunk because the Ministry wants to make a student look bad. Think of the harm that could do to a reputation. Think of the harm that could do to anyone trying to get help."
"Oh," Harry whispered. Hermione turned to the solicitors in the room.
"List of demands: half of the front page will be an apology and a retraction. The second half will be an informative article about mental wellness and treatments. Ask for Angelica Rathbone at St. Mungo's. She's the one who recommended Harry's medication."
"Reasonable," Lie allowed.
"I want the chief editor to personally and publicly apologize," Hermione added. "Then he or she will resign in disgrace."
"Now we're having fun!" Lie cheered, a wide grin on his face.
"Anything about the article's writer?" Amos asked finally.
"I want their head on a pike," Hermione said simply.
"So, three out of four is good," Amos decided peaceably.
"You're right. Some things need to be taken care of personally," Hermione hissed. The room was silent for a long moment before Lie burst into laughter.
"Have you ever thought about becoming a solicitor?" he asked.
"Well. . .no?" Hermione ventured.
"It's great!" Lie announced. "You get paid lots of money to read a ton of books and then you get to bully people until they agree with you." Grace's hand rose, hesitated and fell.
"That's, actually pretty accurate," she admitted. "I have been called an attack librarian before."
"Ooh. I like that. I need to add that to my business cards," Lie stated before glancing back to Hermione. "What are you doing next summer? I would not be averse to throwing a few galleons at you to hang around the office and see if you like it."
"I'll think about it," Hermione replied. "Pleasure later. Destruction of our enemies now."
"You say that like they have to be different things," Grace pointed out.
"We'll also need to begin looking into a defamation lawsuit," Amos stated.
"Against the government?" Hermione asked eagerly.
"No, against the paper," Amos said. "We probably can't prove that the anonymous source behind this story is a government employee."
"It's Umbridge," Minerva said, finally breaking her silence. "Everyone in this school knew about Harry's medication. She found out yesterday and gave him a detention so she could torture him."
"That wasn't torture," Harry said quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand. He noticed everyone immediately paying attention to the bandaged appendage and quickly sat on it.
"Is this allowed in this school?" Grace demanded.
"It should never have been and now it never will be again," Minerva hissed. "There should be an open letter in the Prophet about it." The three solicitors immediately produced copies of the newspaper and began leafing through them.
"Anyone?" Lie asked after a moment.
"Nothing," Grace reported.
"Last page," Amos groaned, "under letters to the editor."
"They buried a public letter from the Governors of Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic?" Minerva asked in disbelief as the other two solicitors flipped to the last page and began reading furiously.
"Alright, the chief editor's head too," Hermione stated. "I'm starting a collection."
"This is insane," Lie said simply as he slumped back in his seat. "Fudge has lost his mind. The cover up is always worse than the crime. All he had to do was throw Umbridge under the bus, but now people are going to want to know how such a letter ended up on the last page. How is he going to explain that? How is the chief editor going to explain that? Nobody is going to want to take the dive for covering up child torture."
"Not torture," Harry announced quickly.
"Umbridge must have something on him," Amos stated. "Maybe we could turn her with the right threats."
"I doubt it, being willing to torture a child. . ."
"Not torture," Harry insisted.
". . .kind of rings "true believer" to me and zealots never turn. They'll die first," Lie replied. "I hate to say it, well, that's a lie. I love to say it, but with how stupid Fudge is, maybe he sees even dismissing her as a sign of weakness or an admission of wrong doing. He's latched onto this flawless leader bullshit. . ." Lie hesitated and glanced at Arkin.
"My husband has taken him round the old veterans homes a few times," Grace said dismissively, "though I appreciate the concern."
"He's latched on so hard that if he accidentally said the sky was yellow, he'd probably refuse to retract that and insist he was right," Lie finished.
"What's this man's approval rating like?" Grace asked. "Could we go after him directly?"
"His popularity has never been higher," Amos warned. "His talk about non-Death Eaters, eh, that's. . ."
"I read all of my son's text books," Grace interrupted. "I'm familiar with your last Dark Lord and his followers, as well as the last several of international importance."
"Well, these new ones have nothing to do with the Death Eaters because a lot of them are some of the Minister's largest donors and are completely reformed via gold," Lie grumbled.
"So glad some things are universal," Grace commented, "makes my job easier."
"Anyway, the Minister's talk of dark magic users hiding behind every rock has got a lot of people terrified," Amos continued. "The last Dark Lord wasn't that long ago."
"Long enough for everyone to forget that Harry killed him," Lie pointed out.
"I didn't kill him that time, I killed him the second time. I kind of killed him the time after that," Harry replied. "I'm not sure about that third time with the horcrux thing, but I don't really have a lot of faith in the last time in the graveyard. Next time will not involve fire. I can tell you that."
"Horcrux?" Grace repeated, ignoring Harry's rambling with a worrying familiarity. "Is that with a w or an h?" Her question was met with a round of shrugs. "Huh. Is death really so transient in the magical world?"
"No," Lie ventured. "When we kill someone here, they tend to stay dead."
"If they know what's good for them," Harry growled. "I've got plans for next time. He is not going to enjoy it."
"Anyway," Amos announced, speaking loudly over the last Potter. "A lot of people view Fudge as a brave warrior shielding them and he has a lot of support in the government."
"Blackmail," Lie commented, "and sycophants. I doubt you forget that he's also started solidifying his position by forcing out the opposition."
"I have not," Amos admitted with a wry smile. "I've also heard the rumors. A lot of people have and a lot of people think its justified in order to get the government to do something. They're enjoying the fantasy of lazy bureaucrats being forced to do their jobs without understanding what those jobs are."
"But they aren't doing anything," Minerva cut in, "well, other than defaming Albus and Harry."
"Oh, you must have been out of the country." Minerva and Harry awkwardly looked in different directions. "They're doing a lot," Lie commented. "It's just that what they're doing is investigating lots of potential dark magic users, who also happen to be critics of the current administration."
"Madame Bones is doing that?" Harry asked.
"The Minister has raised a new department," Amos corrected. "It's supposed to be an investigative body, not a law enforcement agency, but there seems to be some miscommunications as to what they're allowed to do and who they're allowed to claim to be."
"I don't like that," Hermione said simply. "Explain."
"There have been several questionably legal detainments by people claiming to be the DMLE," Amos answered. "As your solicitor, if you are approached by anyone you don't know is an auror and detained, I suggest you do not fight back and merely state that you will not answer questions without your solicitor present."
"What's the longest detainment?" Hermione asked.
"Seven hours, but they have been trending longer," Lie admitted.
"And here I thought the magical world would be better because of magic, but apparently you're having trouble with would be fascists with secret police forces," Grace commented. "Takes me right back to the Troubles."
"Well, we're only human," Amos said peaceably, though he sounded utterly disgusted by his own words. He took a deep breath. "This is good." The room froze. "With this we torpedo the Prophet. They get all new leadership. The government will, hopefully, be too smart to step in. We get new leadership that has the fear of God in them and all the remaining people know that their actions have consequences the government can't protect them from. We are taking the Minister's easiest method of communication with the masses and also his most covert. New leadership is not going to want to play around with anonymous sources after what we do. From here on, everything he says will have to come directly from him or it will come from people who think that he won't throw them under the bus. We go through enough of them and he'll be out of scapegoats."
"I love watching you destroy people," Lie stated. "Your wife is a lucky woman."
"Fudge hasn't seemed to have problems with openly mocking Harry and Albus before," Minerva pointed.
"You'll have notice, he hasn't had anything to say today," Lie commented. "He may have heard that Amos and I are with Harry. He may be dumb, but he has rudimentary survival instincts when he's not in a panic. I doubt very much that anything personally attributable to him with be forthcoming from now on."
"What about the damage to Harry's reputation?" Hermione asked. "We can destroy the paper, but we can't take back what was said nor the ideas it put in people's heads."
"We get a friendly reporter and we control the narrative," Amos stated. "We just have to figure out who."
"I own a reporter," Hermione stated. Harry immediately elbowed her in the ribs. "I mean, I know a reporter."
"Who?" Amos asked.
"Skeeter," Hermione said happily.
"And you can control her?" Lie ventured, both eyebrows rising in surprise.
"She knows better than to go against me," Hermione murmured darkly. Harry elbowed her again. "I mean, she's my dear friend and will listen to everything I have to say." She paused and glanced at Harry. "If she knows what's good for her." Harry's elbow raised, but the curly haired witch seized it. They tussled for a moment before realizing that they had an audience and separating. "Anyway, Rita will be more than happy to tell our story the way we want it." Lie and Amos glanced at each other.
"She's been on a tour promoting her book about Voldemort," Amos stated. "Her audience is probably bigger and dumber than the Minister's and her foray into non-fiction has increased that number significantly."
"I love it," Lie stated. "I've always wanted a pet reporter with a big following." He glanced at Hermione. "Do you rent her out by the hour or by the word count?"
"We can negotiate. . ." Hermione began before Harry elbowed her again. "We'll talk later."
"Hold off on that one," Lie added. "We need the Prophet on our side first and that's going to take some skull cracking."
"Please don't exaggerate," Amos groaned. "Besides, you know traumatic brain injuries are difficult to heal and therefore can be used as evidence against you. Kneecaps are better." The room went silent for a moment.
"He's right," Harry announced. They all turned on him. "You know, from a medical standpoint. Kneecaps can be healed without evidence of trauma so then it becomes a legal he said she said." They remained silent. "I haven't tortured anybody."
"I've heard some rumors about Pettigrew," Lie trailed off.
"That wasn't torture," Harry said quickly. "That was a kindness. I gave him the opportunity to repent and then I took the high road and forgave him. Mister Diggory explained the whole thing to Madame Bones."
"I was willfully ignorant to a few things," Amos grumbled.
"I'm starting to see that your inability to recognized torture is a chronic condition," Minerva stated. The silence was broken again as Lie began to laugh. It started quiet, but slowly grew louder and more manic.
"I was about to retire and move to the Caribbean!" he gasped. "Oh, thank you. Thank you, Harry! I could have missed out on all of this." He began laughing again. Amos just stared into the distance, though his lips were twitching as if he was trying not to smile.
"Well, I see that your legal team is more than adequate," Grace stated.
"Sorry to waste your time," Harry stated.
"Well, I may have used this as an excuse to check up on my son," Grace admitted as she ruffled Arkin's hair. "He's only ever been away from us on school day trips."
"He really is a great kid," Hermione stated.
"I know," Grace said fondly. Arkin blushed, but he had a pleased smile on his lips. "Minerva, if I hear of any kind of treatment like this again. . ."
"We'll take care of it," Harry interrupted.
"You will not," Minerva growled, immediately cowing the three students. She turned to the concerned mother in the room. "If you do, you should just go about your day, because I live here and you won't get to them before me."
"Good." The woman rose and brushed at the wrinkles in her suit. "If you'll excuse me, I have a multi-national I'm bullying into a merger. Some of their board has been rather rude and I want to see if I can get them to take up high rise high diving before my husband hears any of the things they've said about me and gets to them first." She paused and glanced at Lie and Amos. "You have my information. If things get too interesting, call. It wouldn't be the first time I've taken on a government and it won't be the last."
(:ii:)
Albus glanced up as the door to his office burst open. It took one look at his Deputy's face before he immediately prodded the goblet of pumpkin juice in front of him with his wand. To his delight, the hydrometer in the drinkware fell immediately. He snatched up the instrument and chucked it in a drawer before Minerva slammed to halt before his desk.
"Good morning, Minerva," Albus stated. "How went the meeting with Mister Potter's legal team?"
"They're planning to tear down the Daily Prophet as a first step to ending Fudge's career," Minerva state. Albus sipped his pumpkin juice, quite enjoying the little kick it had developed.
"Good for them."
"They're planning a societal upheaval!" Minerva insisted.
"Thus progress is made," Albus replied after a heavy swig. "Sometimes the trappings of society must be cast aside like a chrysalis to reveal something new and beautiful. It is rarely easy or painless. Those who prosper under the old ways will often fight tooth and nail to maintain them, even if it benefits no one, not even themselves."
"What are you drinking?" Minerva asked suspiciously.
"Pumpkin juice," Albus stated as he picked up the pitcher from his desk and poured a second goblet before offering it to his deputy. He also topped up his own goblet, hopefully masking anything extra if she got a little too inquisitive.
"It is pumpkin juice," Minerva commented after a sip.
"Of course," Albus replied pleasantly
"Did you know that the Prophet buried the letter from the Governors?" Minerva asked. Albus coughed roughly as his pumpkin juice went down the wrong path. He composed himself quickly.
"Did they now?" he managed to rasp. "Oh, Augusta is going to love that." He took up his goblet again and his wand slipped out of his sleeve just enough to prod it. He took a hefty sip, noting that the previous dryness had become a full burn. "I think I have some owls to send."
Albus had spent a lifetime accruing contacts and debts. Maybe it was time to use a few.
(:ii:)
"Do you understand the job Rigby?" Amelia asked the smiling man in front of him.
"Of course!" Rigby announced, happily waving his arms about in excitement and revealing that between two hands he couldn't quite make it to five and a half fingers. "Oh, this will be so much fun. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to go to Azkaban."
"You're welcome," Amelia replied, her smile feeling strained.
Magizoologists.
Why couldn't they just stop chasing dangerous creatures and poking them with sticks? Where was their self-preservation? Did they lose it after the first few near death experiences, or did they never have it in the first place?
Amelia's door opened and Kingsley poked his head in.
"Got a moment?" he asked.
"I think we're done here," Amelia stated, glancing at Rigby. The man nodded and stood to leave, scratching the half of his nose he still had. Kingsley stepped in to allow the man to leave before he could accidentally unleash some kind of monstrous murder beast in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Magizoologists.
Maybe they'd get lucky and he'd unleash some new hitherto unknown horror upon Azkaban.
"What's happening Kingsley?"
"I take it you haven't read the Prophet today?" the large man asked.
"You mean how they're calling Potter a drunk?" Amelia ventured. "From what I've heard, he's got Lisander Steele and Amos Diggory on his side. They'll go scorched earth in ways we can't even imagine."
"I meant, the back page," Kingsley stated. Amelia picked up her copy of the paper from her desk and flipped to the last page. She perused the letters to the editor for a moment before her eyes locked onto one of them.
"Why is there an open letter from the Governors of Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic under letters to the editor?" she asked.
"Keep reading and you'll find out." Amelia buzzed through the letter and felt her stomach drop.
"Torture?" she gasped.
"I already sent out a few owls," Kingsley stated quickly. "It wasn't Susan." To her disappointment, that statement did make her feel better. It really shouldn't have mattered which student it was, but it did.
"Who did it?" Amelia demanded.
"Considering this is the first time this has happened and there's only one new professor?" Kingsley asked.
"I want Umbridge in chains, now," Amelia ordered.
"She hasn't broken the law," Kingsley stated. "She hasn't even broken the school charter."
"How?" Amelia demanded.
"The law has been the way it is for centuries," Kingsley pointed out. "It hasn't been changed because no one in modern times has ever done something like this. I doubt most people know that its legal."
"Maybe child torture will light a fire under some asses," Amelia growled. "Did you find out who?"
"Well, let's just say, this might not have happened if it were any other student," Kingsley said. Amelia stared at him for a moment, before realization dawned on her.
"Potter." Kingsley nodded. "Well. . .shit. Is she still alive?"
"For now." The large man pulled out his wand and Amelia's shock dropped in a second as he cast a silent privacy charm. "Sal has been poking around for information on Umbridge. Two guesses as to who he's doing it for and the first one doesn't count."
"Is he being subtle?" Amelia asked.
"Only people trained by him would notice," Kingsley replied. "And all the people who were trained by him are either working for me, dead or the type to join him."
"He's private citizen. He can do as he pleases. It's not illegal to ask questions. . .yet"
"We've also had another detainment."
"Was it an auror?" Amelia demanded.
"No, some middle management type reassigned to the dummies," Kingsley stated. "Albert Runcorn. A large man, quite intimidating if he says you are not free to go while towering over you and demanding answers."
"Did he claim to be an auror?" Amelia asked.
"Not this time," Kingsley replied. "A man his size doesn't need to claim to be an auror to scare people."
"A formal complaint has been lodged?" Amelia ventured.
"For all the good they've ever done," Kingsley said. "This is also the first time that the unspoken threat of violence has been used to intimidate." Amelia scowled at that.
"Suggestions?" she asked.
"We could arrest him for criminal intimidation," Kingsley suggested.
"We don't have everything in order to openly go after the Minister's personal inquisition and you know," Amelia stated. "Cut the shit and tell me your suggestion."
"I think it's finally time for accidents to start happening." Amelia leaned back in her seat. Kingsley and his people had been working in the background for months now. Always poking about and keeping tabs on any movers and shakers, but never acting.
"Nonviolent options?" Amelia pressed. She needed to be sure of this.
"Blackmail," Kingsley stated. "We have a few things on him, but blackmail is a two-way street, same with threats, as our minister has proven. I doubt you want there to be a noteworthy individual in this yet."
"I do not," Amelia agreed. She couldn't risk the Minister catching wind of anyone working against him. Not with the powers he had given himself. Amelia leaned back in her chair. The next words out of her mouth had to be carefully weighed and there could be no going back. After a moment she nodded to herself. "No traces. Just bad luck."
"A shame he tripped," Kingsley agreed. "I can tell you from experience that big men fall harder and stairs are hazardous at the best of time, let alone for an alcoholic." The large man turned and left without another word. Amelia waited for the door to click shut before she slumped forward, her forehead coming into contact with her still open copy of the Prophet.
All she ever wanted was to enforce the laws of the land she called home and keep the innocent safe from evil doers.
How had she come to the point that she had just ordered a man thrown down the stairs of his own home by her personal thug squad? She rocked her head slightly to eye the Governors letter. And why was her biggest concern a teenager and trying to figure out when he would snap?
-End
(:ii:)
-Uncle's drunken rambles. Anyway, thanks for all the IT support from my readers since I'm not getting any from the site. Y'all have spoken. Got m account and am trying to figure it out so we can get this party started!
Soooooooo. . .I admit to nothing, but I might just be a felon in a few months. Maybe. No proof. I just own a CZ Scorpion pistol. Not a crime at all. Yup.
America decided that braced firearms are now short barreled rifles and they did it in the dumbest way possible, by retroactively making them illegal. All ten to forty million of them. Hope anyone who has a braced firearm is keeping up to date on obscure legal procedings because if you're an everyday joe who just bought a braced pistol. . .the ATF and the government are doing fuck all the reach out and tell you that you're about to be at risk of ten years in prison and a quarter million dollar fine.
And the gun companies are all too happy to dump their stock of soon to be illegal items on the unwitting populace without warning them. How nice.
All that, for something you legally bought and now can't have even if it's not attached to the firearm.
Thanks to the Cheeto and Chief for setting precedence with the bump stock ban. Not that most gun owners will admit that he was a driving force behind that.
Lots of talk of mass non-compliance, but you know what happens when you do that? Examples get made. Do you want to be an example? I, personally, cannot even afford a lawyer, so I'd be pretty fucked.
Don't worry though! The ATF has already announced that they will spend no resources chasing down these super dangerous weapons. Kind of tells you just how super dangerous they are, eh?
Love you. Fuck you. Good night!
-Uncle Jack
Oh, oh! Wait! Funny story. Short barreled rifles were made illegal to the working class in the twenties because gun grabbers wanted to make pistols illegal and they were worried people would chop down rifles. They forgot who, at the time, mostly carried pistols. Yup. The rich! And in America you don't take shit away from the rich.
So, pistols were off the ban, but rifles with barrels under eighteen inches were still there. That lasted until the sixties when the government surplussed thousands of M1 carbines without checking the barrel length.
What an oopsie, right? Well, as Tricky Dick said, it's not illegal when the government does it. So instead of giving back the millions they made in sales, they just changed the barrel length requirement. Problem solved!
So, uh, if I set up a go fund me and then disappear for a decade, I didn't take the money and dip. Things happened and I will be back eventually. Well, depending on the things happening to me and me happening to the things.
Also, this is why when you find a loophole in a law, you don't run around cheering and openly mocking the people responsible for it. You shut the fuck up and use it. Do you see rich people running around explaining all the legal scams they get away with? No? That's why they're still rich and the rest of us aren't.
Oh, shit. I rambled too long. Quick DISTRACTION OMAKE!
Omake One:
"Good." The woman rose and brushed at the wrinkles in her suit. "If you'll excuse me, I have a multi-national I'm bullying into a merger. Some of their board has been rather rude and I want to see if I can get them to take up high rise high diving before my husband hears any of the things they've said about me and gets to them first." She paused and glanced at Lie and Amos. "You have my information. If things get too interesting, call. It wouldn't be the first time I've taken on a government and it won't be the last."
They all watched her ass sway out the door. Well, most of them.
"Gosh darn it to heck," Arkin grumbled. "This is why I never let my parents chaperone field trips; everybody thinks they're super hot."
"Sorry!" Hermione squeaked, red faced at being caught. Harry just shrugged. He liked scary women and he would not apologize for that.
"I don't know what you mean," Minerva stated, though her face was red as well.
"Lie?" Amos asked in complete confusion.
"What?" Lie asked. "Power and violence are sexy and they know no gender. I'd let her bend me over a table and. . ." Harry and Hermione both lunged to cover Arkin's ears even as Amos slapped a hand over his boss's mouth.
-End
Uncles quickie drunken rambling. So. . .yes, I am a crack author and this is a crack story, but I really don't put down every gag I think of. Mostly. Well, I guess I just did. Oh well. Que sera, sera and what will be is my bullshit, but you should know that by this point.