"Harry!"

"Wasn't me, I swear," he blurted as if on cue before he looked up from his armchair and towards the fireplace. Not many people had access to the Floo at Grimmauld and even fewer could just stroll in and bark his name with such indignation. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"This," Hermione replied, and dropped a newspaper onto the table with enough fervour that it nearly knocked over his cup of tea. When he had made sure that his tea wouldn't spill, he turned to look at what had infuriated his best friend so much. His eyes roamed the paper and surely enough, his name was on the front page. Oddly enough, the images on it didn't move and when he looked to inspect the title, he scoffed and leaned back in his armchair knowingly. The paper lying on the table between them wasn't the Daily Prophet but the muggle Times.

"Ah that," Harry chuckled as he read the headline. Luckily, there was no photograph of him, nor was there any scandalous article about some witch he never met claiming that he got her pregnant. Those were getting really tiresome, and you would think that the papers would have caught up after their third retraction. And the third lawsuit. "I blame you for that."

Hermione's mouth opened in surprise. "Me? I am to blame?!–"

He nodded at her, nonplussed about her outrage. "You told me that I needed a 'hobby', something more than the few hours I work at Quality Quidditch Supplies. You even suggested getting a pilot's licence," he shrugged.

"I did, but I never –"

"And you did enjoy the sightseeing flight over the Dales I took you on with Padma, right?"

She didn't like where this was going, at all. "That's not my point –"

"And did you, or did you not, tell me that I should think about buying my own plane?"

"Yes," she admitted, knowing full well that she had, in fact, phrased it exactly like that, "but I meant a small plane, like one of those Cessnas."

"A Cessna, really?" Harry laughed and waved dismissively. "My Firebolt is faster than one of those. You had to know I would get something… a little faster."

"A little faster?" She spoke with utter disbelief, merely mouthing his words like a hoarse parrot. "Harry, you bought a bloody CONCORDE!"

"Yup," he shrugged again, "and language, Hermione! It's not like I bought a Blackbird."

"Oh shut up, would you? You just spent 20 million Pounds on an actual jet! Even if you wanted something fancy, I was thinking that you might buy a Spitfire or something a little eccentric. Maybe expensive, but not beyond what a millionaire with more money than common sense would do. Something sensible. Not an airliner capable of breaking the sound barrier," she replied with a fierce glare and stabbed a finger on the headline. "And to top it off, on one that is infamous for crashing as a giant fireball into a hotel near Paris!"

"More like 80 million," he mumbled, but not quietly enough.

"WHAT?"

"Nevermind. You look lovely today, has anyone –"

"Harry, that's – that's terribly irresponsible. 80 million Pounds – that's – you could've bought a whole neighbourhood for that money."

"Ginny didn't mind," he pointed out.

"The Weasleys aren't good with money and Ginny isn't either. Remember when Arthur won two years worth of his salary in the lottery and blew it all on one holiday?"

"Hey!" Harry complained, but his friend merely raised an eyebrow, daring him to disagree with her. "Alright, fair enough. But she is getting better. And it's not like we're horribly short on galleons. Last I checked, I'm not a dragon keen on hoarding treasure. I keep enough for us and the future children, but that's it."

"You will be going for broke, if you continue to spend at this rate."

Harry shook his head. "Sirius Airlines has cost me about half of what's in the Black vaults. Sirius would certainly have approved of blowing half of his family's fortune on something Muggle."

"Sirius would have approved of anything you would have wanted to spend money on, even if it had been dumping it all into the Thames and clogging London's main sewer, but that doesn't mean that it would be a good idea. And how come that the newspapers only quote 20 million if you spent quadruple?"

"Well," he rubbed his neck sheepishly, "there were the additional costs of setting up an airline, poaching the necessary staff, the simulator, buying a hangar and so on. But most of it was pretty much a bribe to Airbus."

"Harry –"

"Andromeda thought it was a good idea."

"The Blacks and their offspring aren't exactly known to be sane people. Andromeda named her daughter Nymphadora after all."

"That's it! I'll be naming my first daughter Nymphadora," Harry declared, clapping his hands together as if he had just made the decision of his life.

"Don't you think that you should ask your fiancée about that?" She replied, doing her best to discourage his idiocy.

"Ginny and I already agreed that I get to name the girls and she the boys. Admittedly, I was hoping to get it the other way around, but betting debts are debts of honour."

"You bet on your future children's names?" Hermione gave him a blank look but couldn't help massaging her temple.

"We bet on who can name them. And she liked Tonks and loves Andi, so I don't think that she would veto –"

"Fine," she declared, raising her hand to stop him and instead move the conversation along. "Can we get back to the part where you admitted to bribing a multinational company?"

"Well," he began with a shrug, "it was less a bribe and more an upfront payment for them to keep the spare part supply going. Just like I paid Randolph to keep the tools for the original Firebolt in working order after he moved on to the next model. But bribing them sounds much more impressive."

"So you are saying that you purchased a plane that might have been unfit to fly?" Hermione asked and pinched the bridge of her nose, ignoring the comment about giving a few Galleons to Ellerby and Spudmore.

"I wouldn't go as far as saying that. I could have used magic to mend parts and put some mild muggle-repelling charm on it. Like the Hogwarts Express, if it came to that, but luckily, they decided to extend the support with the right incentive. And it was less than I was first told, because British Airways agreed to keep their Concordes flying after Andromeda sorted out the spare parts supply."

Hermione didn't respond right away and tapped her foot to rythm of her thoughts circling her mind. When she stopped and raised her head to meet Harry's lazy eyes, he sat up straight in mild concern for his wellbeing. "I have been gone for a month. A month, Harry. Just 30 days. And when I come back, my father rings me all the way from Australia because even he has heard about your latest idea. An idiotic idea that cost you more than a small fortune. Apparently, you cannot even go that long without getting yourself into trouble."

"Let me remind you, again, it was you who said that I needed a hobby. Something to challenge me, now that Teddy is getting close to school age."

"Yes, but I thought you would – I don't know, maybe join the Chudleigh Cannons and make them win more than a game each decade or something. Not pull a Howard Hughes"

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter," she swatted his interruption away, "he was rich and crazy and wasted a fortune on planes and my point still stands."

"Getting rated on the fastest plane I can get my hands on sounded like a challenging ambition," Harry replied unafraid before he paused to ponder. "Now that I think about it, I wonder if I could get my hands on a space shuttle. Although those tend to turn into a fireball alarmingly often."

Her face went flat at his newest idea. Nothing she said would faze him, much less make him see reason. "You are bonkers, you know?"

"But you love me anyway."

"Only a little," Hermione admittedly begrudgingly, giving a single huff in resignation and plopping down on the chair opposite of him. "How did you even manage all of this?"

"Andromeda. My contribution was pretty much limited to giving her the funds needed and pointing her in the right direction."

"That's just ludicrous. Andromeda was born a Black, and while she picked up a lot about the Muggle world, she does not know anything about buying planes or running an airline."

"Michael helped."

"Corner? I didn't know that you were friends."

"No, no, not that guy. Michael Tonks, or Uncle Mick as you may know him," Harry said in the best imitation of his godson. While technically his great-grandfather, Teddy had resorted to the much easier u'cel and refused to change that habit once he was old enough to understand. Which was also why he referred to Andromeda as mummy and Harry as dad. "We had a few, down in the pub back when they announced the withdrawal and bounced a few ideas around. I wasn't expecting that he'd make anything happen, but this was an opportunity I couldn't let pass."

"I didn't know he was in the Air Force."

He gave her a knowing look, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's because you did that internship at Flourish and Blotts and went to university while I pretty much became a stay-at-home dad for Teddy. Which included a lot of time spent at his great-grandparents'," Harry replied. Truth be told, raising Teddy had been a welcome pretence to get out of the spotlight. And a welcome therapy after all the death during the war. Ginny had understood that, others had not. "Back in the day, Mick was in the RAF and had made some connections during that time. Drive the future Air Marshall across Lincolnshire and you end up making friends in high places. Especially when he gets sent to the Lords later on."

"The House of Lords? What's next, did you ask Kingsley to make you an appointment with the Prime Minister?"

"That – it would have been easier, now that you're mentioning it. Why didn't I think of that?" Harry admitted and rubbed his neck. "No, Michael simply rang him up and said that his daughter-in-law had plans about sticking it to the French and keeping the Concorde flying, and whatever channels the Baron used worked fast. A fancy dinner in Paris and then in Toulouse, negotiations in French where she could make offers too good to refuse, this was basically a birthday gift for Andi."

"Her birthday is in four months," Hermione pointed out with a roll of her eyes. Then again, Andromeda was always down for politics, intrigue and the occasional bit of blackmail.

"Spoilsport," he muttered displeased.

"And how is this sticking it to the French, exactly?"

"Well, I bought F-BVFF, Air France's newest Concorde. And to keep the price low, Andromeda did not reveal that we were going to sort out the spare part supply. So come November 8th, there will be eight Concordes flying in Britain. And the French will be left with five for the museums. Or maybe even fewer if Sir Branson manages to buy the others for Virgin."

"That's petty." she supplied, giving him a frown.

"So, you don't think I should name her Waterloo? How about Trafalgar, then? Lord Nelson always said to close with a Frenchman but –"

"Did Fleur annoy you recently?" Hermione asked, and Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing at that conclusion.

"No, and I have been seeing a lot of her. Teddy and Victoire are pretty much joined at the hip at this point. Fleur is nice, in spite of her being French."

"Oh, I know she is," she nodded.

Harry studied her and a sly grin formed on his face. "Don't you already have a girlfriend?"

"Yes, and Padma agrees with me."

"Really? Don't get me wrong, Fleur is hot and you could bounce a sickle off her ass, but I didn't think she was some lesbian beacon you all are drawn to," Harry laughed and noticed that they were no longer alone. "Hi Gin."

"Hi Harry, Hermione," the redhead replied and dropped down onto Harry's armchair, effectively ending up in his lap. Her short hair was still wet from the shower, and the scent of coco soap was as pleasant as ever.

"Good practice, I take it?" He whispered into her ear as he held het close.

"No bludger hits this time," Ginny said cheerfully and pulled Harry into a passionate kiss. Where their friend had slowly drifted towards magical fashion, she had discovered the wonders of muggle sportswear. Not that Harry minded the shorts, t-shirts and tank tops, those were a lot more flattering than enchanted jumpers, long skirts and robes. Something he took advantage of when he placed a hand on Ginny's bare thigh, which drew a sultry grin from her. "Is Hermione pining after my sister-in-law, again?"

"Again?" Harry asked the same moment their friend replied with an indignant 'No'. Although the flush on her cheeks betrayed her. "Hermione just found out about my last purchase and has come to express her disapproval."

Ginny scoffed in faux annoyance. "Well, it was her idea. And telling the French 'Up Yours' is always a good, noble cause."

Hermione couldn't stop the slimming of her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, preparing to continue her inquiry into Harry's affairs. "Seriously now, what has Fleur done?"

"Why do you think it was her?"

"Because she's the only Frenchman we know. Frenchwoman – Frenchveela – You know what I mean."

"It might also have been some stranger whom I ran across while I was at the shops, or some exceptionally rude tourist I met on my way to the Tube."

"Now I'm impressed, Fleur really had to mess up," Hermione demanded, ignoring Harry's ramblings. Ginny, however, decided to reveal the mystery.

"Close but not quite, so zero points to Gryffindor. It was Gabrielle, actually."

That took the wind from Hermione's sails. She had not thought of the smaller and younger sister. "Don't tell me this is over another love letter."

Harry intertwined his hands over Ginny's lap and mirthfully glanced from over her shoulder. "If only, it was more like a lust letter. Ginny had a lot of fun reading it and reciting passages a bunch of times."

"Seriously, that girl needs to get laid, yesterday," his fiancée added with a snort. "Or figure out that real men do not work like whatever helper she's using to get off. She was desperate enough to write that she would want us both. And I don't know where she got that idea from that Harry will somehow dominate her. He's really just a very large teddy bear. Now if she wrote that she wanted to tie him to the bed and –"

"Too much information." She raised a hand to that effect and dared the woman on Harry's lap to continue.

"Come on," Ginny begged, a naughty smile on her lips, "you two slept together before. Just picture it."

"Yes, but that was only because we were quite certain we wouldn't survive that winter. Not quite the mood for blindfolds and silk ropes, or whatever else it is you're thinking of in that lewd brain of yours."

"However, you did like to pin me to the bed with your hands. And to the wall once. Which, let me tell you, was a formative experience," Harry explained with a cheeky grin. "Nothing wrong with being under a hot witch – as long as she's my fiancée," he added, and the couple high-fived.

"Oh, look at you two," she drawled with sarcasm, "if only the rest of magical Britain could see how adorably in-love you are. And that's not even mentioning the chopstick fencing when we last had sushi," Hermione grumbled as she watched Ginny's exaggerated nodding, who had conjured two épée-shaped chopsticks at the mere mention and handed one to her fiancé. "But to answer your question, I did not come here to talk about your sister-in-law –"

"Could have fooled me."

"– But to talk about the worrying amount of gold Harry spent on a mere whim."

"They would have retired them by the end of the year. And I couldn't let them do that to the poor, magnificent plane."

"Don't talk about the plane as if it was a stray animal in a shelter," she replied with a roll of her eyes.

"She's almost forty years old, and they still haven't built a better one yet," Harry said fondly before he turned towards his friend. "And correct me if I'm wrong but I recall you complained that it took too long to visit your parents. This way, I am, as a matter of fact, helping you with your problem."

She couldn't believe he would bring up and drag the long journeys to her parents into the discussion. It was a most accurate, unwelcome, and frustratingly true point. "I love that you thought to help me with my situation, but the solution to that is not buying a jet airliner."

Harry listened and then put a more serious look on his face. He pulled Ginny onto his chest, so that he could look at Hermione in earnest. "Is it not? Do we not all agree that international floo travel and portkeys are the worst magical inventions, ever. However, I can get you to your parents in 17 hours. And if you feel sick and queasy upon arrival, it will be because you had too much Champagne in your first class seat, not because you spent an hour puking your guts out at the portkey pad in Bombay. Or Cairo. Or Batavia."

Hermione, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, shook her head. "You thought about this, didn't you? This is not just some napkin math?" she noted suspiciously, but she could not deny the appeal of the vision he painted.

"I was quite sure that you wouldn't be happy, so I knew I needed something to," he paused for a moment, "incentivise you with."

"Andi really has been a horrible influence on you," Hermione decided, not liking that he was slowly but surely becoming too clever for his own good.

"Andi is a great influence," Ginny objected. "She's scary good at this whole negotiation stuff, at bribery and at blackmail."

"See?"

"Hermione, she doubled the worth of my contract with Appleby, and got me a big, fat goal bonus. A bonus so fat, it would have to buy two seats on Harry's aeroplane. Thanks to her, I have Holyhead over a barrel for the next season. And she got Harry the royalties from Sleekeazy's, and back payments up to '81."

"I know about that, and I am probably their best customer," Hermione grumbled half-heartedly and held up a strand of her hair.

"I will throw in a bottle together with your first class seat," Harry replied with a chuckle. "At least that stuff works on your hair. Or maybe it would work on me if someone could keep their hands off my hair for more than five minutes."

"Your hair looks better messy," Ginny told him sheepishly and stopped running her fingers through his hair before turning back to their friend. "Andi proved that she can negotiate contracts with that Appleby deal. And she made us a fortune otherwise. If it takes a bit of blackmail to get there, so what? If they did not want to get blackmailed, they should not have gotten caught being naughty."

"That is not right," Hermione replied, although it was half-hearted at best.

"Well, if the world was right, I would still have Fred, Harry would have his parents, Teddy too, and his grandfather. If Kingsley had a spine, he would have dealt with the lot responsible and –" Ginny paused when she felt Harry's hand on hers and took a deep breath. "Yet here we are, in a world that is neither right nor fair. So if it takes the woman who, after the war, was more of a mother to Harry or me than my actual mother, to cross a few lines, that's a price I'll gladly pay."

"Don't you feel dirty – tainted even, for using all the blackmail collected by some of the worst people in living memory?"

"I keep telling you Hermione, Andromeda is almost a mirror image of her sister. The difference between them is target selection, not methods. When those idiots tried to kidnap Teddy, she made the Longbottoms look like a picture of health in comparison. Hell, I was there, I nearly shat my pants when she did that darkness spell and the fire whip, and I was on her side. And I fought Voldemort before. Multiple times."

"I don't feel bad at all. Gutting them with a rusty spoon would have been better than what they deserve, merely taking their gold is mercy. Those cunts tried to force Harry to marry one of their daughters to 'continue the Black line', and without the bluff about marrying Andromeda, we would have been in a big mess. I would have thought that you would have appreciated the irony of the situation, using the crème de la crème's own assets against them. Using them for the benefit of blood traitors and a Mudblood. The only thing sweeter would have been to see them hang, the whole lot. Sadly, you can't put heads on London Bridge anymore," Ginny added wistfully. Where Hermione had mellowed out a bit over the years, the redhead grew more bitter and cynical. Then again, Hermione played a part in putting her tormentor in the ground, whereas the Azkaban reforms of Kingsley meant that Rookwood now had a more comfortable stay than before his break-out and the deaths he caused afterwards. Most notably Fred's. Andromeda had been hurting in the same way, and through Harry, the two witches had met and bonded over shared grief and a desire for justice and vengeance. "But I don't want to see Andromeda nor Harry in Azkaban after Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson suffer a series of unfortunate accidents, so I'll settle for extorting their gold. And if Harry decides to spend that gold on a Muggle plane, that only makes it sweeter. Better than buying the Nimbus 2005 for the entire Quidditch team to get his son on the Gryffindor team."

"And she sorted out the goblins," Harry pointed out, while Ginny broke out in a wide grin.

"You might sit on the gold, but that only shows the mob where they have to come to pry it from your dead claws. And unless you stop this sham and apologise, the public will find out what you were hiding for Voldemort, and both sides will make you the scapegoat. After all, why blame wizards or the Ministry, when it were the goblins who guarded Voldemort's key to immortality?" she quoted in the same bland tone Andromeda had used. Ginny had thought her mother was scary, but Andi had taught her that the scariest threats were those delivered in a flat and quiet voice. "Of course, then she threatened to smoke them out with Fiendfyre, and I don't think that she was bluffing."

"The Goblins really make it difficult to like them, don't they?" Hermione asked, and received nods from both. She had tried to change magical Britain, but after seeing how little had changed after the war, she threw Harry's name around to get wide-ranging legal protections for House Elves before giving up on the Ministry. There were only so many times you could run into a brick wall before you gave up. Or decided to catch up on Muggle education and go to university instead. "I still can't believe you started an airline. You are not even twenty-three yet."

"Come on, my birthday is in six weeks."

"Not the point."

"Sir Benson was thirty-three when he started his airline, and Freddie already offered to become an advisor."

"So I am to understand that you did not only buy a very expensive aircraft and started an airline, you also got in touch with a pair of knighted airline magnates?"

"Come on, our Order of Merlin is equivalent to a knighthood, Dame Granger. Don't tell me that you are impressed by a K."

"Certainly not, Baron Potter."

"That's Duke of Blackmoor to you, young lady, you really should learn how to address your betters," Harry replied in his best Malfoy imitation.

"Bite me. Without me you would have been Duke rotting six-feet below Blackmoor," she shot back and rolled her eyes. "How did you even manage to get all the paperwork sorted that fast?"

"Getting an AOC and an operating licence was a real pain, but Michael and his connections helped to fast-track the whole thing. Turns out that there are ways to get the Humphreys of this world moving. Putting the Laker name on the forms also helped a lot, and I'm still waiting to dot the last i's and cross the last t's. I think Freddie wanted another hobby, so a bit of consulting work on what's basically a front for me to have a really fast private jet and hobby was just what the doctor prescribed. He'll be turning eighty-one in August, and he was looking at things to do to make retirement less boring."

"I am not sure if I am impressed or want to scream," Hermione grumbled once more. "Eighty-One?"

"Think about it as charity for the community. There are many people who are bored at home after retiring. They miss the work they were doing, so I offered to give them their work back, a few hours each week."

"Only you –" she trailed off and shook her head. "But why did you start an airline? If you just wanted to fly Concorde, surely, there would have been an easier way."

"Sorting out the spare parts was the most expensive part of this endeavour. And a decent chunk of the other expenses would also have been due if I kept her as a private jet, so I might as well invest a little more and have a shot at earning some of it back."

"Do you honestly think that?"

"Well, I'll have to run charters rather than a scheduled service, but if you think about it, I can save a lot of money with magic. I should be able to conjure most of the fuel she'll use, and repair charms will sort out most broken odds and ends," Harry said with a shrug. They had the gold to spare, and even if he blew through both the Potter and the Black estate, just the dividends from his grandfather's haircare potion would ensure that he'd never have to work. "And you have to admit that it's hilarious that I got better press coverage for spending money than I ever got for the whole mess with Voldemort. The Daily Mail even proclaimed me a national hero on their front page. I am like Malfoy, but I throw money around for the betterment of the world, not for a lifetime supply of hair gel."

"You are preserving a plane, not resolving world hunger. And I would argue that this is a point against the Prophet rather than in favour of the Mail."

"They even quoted Baron Knightsbridge –"

"Another Lord? Didn't you leave your Wizengamot seat to Andi because you did not want to deal with politics?"

"This has nothing to do with politics, he's the CEO of British Airways."

"Because that's any better."

"You are talking to the owner of Sirius Airlines. Fly Siriusly," Harry recited sotto voce, and both women broke out in giggles.

"Please tell me that you did not name your airline after Sirius just to make bad puns."

"I'll have you know that I did not think about the puns until after I decided on the name. I also considered S.P.S.A – the Society for the Presentation of Supersonic Airliners," Harry informed his friend with a wide grin. "Consider the name a perk."

"A perk?"

"It's a lot of marketing slogans for free. Sirius excellence. Comfort taken Siriusly. Sirius luxury, Sirius –"

"I get it, you can stop now," Hermione said through gritted teeth before she turned towards his fiancée. "And you, are you really okay with this all?"

"All he needed to say to sell me on the idea was Champagne rather than portkeys," Ginny said happily and drew Harry into another kiss.

AN:

Merry Christmas everyone!

Beta'ed by doenerkint/Babidibupi.

Canon is unclear on who killed Fred, but Rookwood is the best guess here.

Contrary to what many might think, I actually like Ginny, and the idea of Harry/Ginny. I, however, despise pretty much every trope you see in fics with that pairing, especially postwar. Or in canon. Or that bad fanfiction called Cursed Child. Ginny (and Tonks for that matter) had so much potential in OotP, only to be replaced by bland no-ones in HBP.

How feasible is this story? Sir Richard Branson offered to buy Concorde for 5 million pounds apiece in 2003, but was rejected. So I had Harry offer four times the amount instead, and went with a purchase from Air France instead. They sold a Concorde to the Sinsheim Museum for one Euro after all. Adjusted for inflation, a new Concorde would have cost something in the neighbourhood of eighty million in 2003, so £20M for a 30-year-old plane facing immediate withdrawal should be realistic. Convincing Airbus is a difficult thing to judge, but an offer of £40M just to maintain the spare part supply (with parts sold at commercial rates as needed) should be somewhat plausible. Of course, there are other options, but Harry or Andromeda tracking down the Airbus management and placing them under the Imperius curse just to keep Concorde running would make for a very odd story. Well, even odder than this one already is.

The process for setting up an airline would take longer, the steps mentioned however are depicted reasonably accurate. Having Sir Freddie Laker on board would make the entire regulatory process much easier because it requires some staff members with airline experience, and it's a coin-toss between him and Branson as to who had the most experience in the UK at that point. A solid bank account also greases the process, getting an operating licence requires a solid financing plan. I went for a period appropriate conversion based on the gold price of 220 GBP/ounce. And doing some napkin math, the sheer mountains of gold coins in Harry's vault would easily make him a millionaire even by book 1. The costs for getting an AOC were apparently a little over a million dollars in 2021, the financial backing for new airlines was 40-80 million dollars in the past decade. Since Sirius Airlines would be a much smaller operation, the financial side would be solid if you accept the previous assumptions.

British Airways keeping Concorde in service is based on a 2003 interview with Baron Marshall of Knightsbridge, the British Airways (BA) chairman at the time. I took it at face value since BA refurbished their fleet after the Air France crash. There are some theories that it was to be phased out sooner or later, but if Sir Branson managed to buy more French ones for Virgin Atlantic, the business case would look better and there would be competition offering Concorde service between New York and London. Or alternatively, he'd buy the BA ones after those were retired, probably during the 2008 recession. However, between Brexit and Covid, I don't think they would have lasted beyond 2020. Unless Sir Branson would have used his private fortune to keep at least his own flying, which would have put a serious dent into even his account. Most BA airframes would have hit their cycle limits in the 2010s, although limiting them to just the New York route might help to prolong their stay. Noise and emission regulations would probably mean no regular services, too, but at least one or two flying examples could be preserved for air shows until they too reach their maximum number of cycles.