Gemini remained blissfully unaware of Tony's crisis across the Atlantic. Even if she had known, she wouldn't have interfered—Muggle affairs were best left to Muggles, no matter how spectacular the explosions.
At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, she watched the seamstress take Banner's measurements with professional efficiency, then outlined their rather unique requirements.
"The garments must be exceptionally durable," Gemini explained carefully, "with automatic sizing charms that can accommodate... significant physical changes. The outer robes are less critical, but the undergarments absolutely must withstand extreme stress."
The seamstress raised an eyebrow but made notes without comment—in the magical world, unusual requests were simply Tuesday.
After settling the bill, Gemini and Banner emerged under the staff's curious stares, which Banner bore with the resigned patience of someone accustomed to being an oddity.
"Since we're out, is there anything else you need?" Gemini asked, already mentally mapping their route through Diagon Alley.
Banner considered thoughtfully. "I've exhausted my current reading material and could use some advanced reference texts. Also, our sneezewort supplies are nearly depleted, and we're down to our last vial of toad nerves."
Gemini scanned the bustling street, formulating an efficient plan. "Flourish and Blotts first—you can browse their academic section while I handle some personal errands. Then we'll reconvene and tackle the apothecary together."
Banner nodded appreciatively. "Divide and conquer. I like it."
At the bookstore, Gemini discreetly pressed a Sickle into the clerk's palm. "Keep an eye on my friend, would you? He's... new to our world." The clerk pocketed the coin with understanding—Muggle-born customers required special attention in shops where books occasionally bit back.
Gemini stepped back into the afternoon bustle, her destination clear: Quality Quidditch Supplies.
"Welcome, miss!" A enthusiastic salesman materialized the moment she crossed the threshold. "Have you seen our latest Nimbus series? Zero to sixty in under a second—revolutionary acceleration charms!"
"Two of your finest models," Gemini said without hesitation, producing a slip of parchment. "Delivered to this address. And while we're talking—any news about the upcoming World Cup matches?"
The salesman's eyes lit with the gleam of someone who lived for sports gossip. "Oh, you're in for a treat! Next month's circuit match is China versus Japan—absolute powder keg of a game! They've moved it to a neutral island in the Pacific because, between you and me..." He leaned closer conspiratorially. "The International Quidditch Federation is practically begging the Chinese team not to bring their traditional magical implements."
Gemini blinked in surprise. "That seems... oddly specific. What's the concern?"
The salesman glanced around dramatically before continuing. "Historical baggage, you understand. During the war, when the Central Land Daoist Sect's Heavenly Court was compromised, Japan took certain... liberties. Now that China's magical community has fully recovered, well..." He made a throat-slitting gesture. "Their methods are rather more... permanent than standard Quidditch fouls."
Understanding dawned in Gemini's eyes. "And this is more than just a regular match?"
"Qualifying round for the 2010 World Cup semifinals in Bulgaria," the salesman confirmed with relish. "Winner advances, loser goes home in shame. The IQF is terrified of international incidents—imagine the headlines if the Japanese team simply... vanished during play."
Gemini couldn't suppress a laugh. "That's the real concern, isn't it? Not sportsmanship, but avoiding a diplomatic crisis."
"Precisely!" The salesman grinned. "Between us, most of the Japanese magical community consists of shrine maidens who spend more time chanting about their Emperor than practicing Quidditch. Lovely dedication, questionable athletic preparation."
Gemini filed this information away as the salesman efficiently packaged her purchases. At the counter, she noticed ticket booking services prominently displayed.
"If VIP box seats become available, I'm interested," she said, placing a substantial deposit. "Five tickets, private box preferred. Budget is flexible."
The salesman's demeanor shifted to utmost professionalism. "Consider it handled, miss. For a customer of your caliber, I'll move mountains."
Gemini spent the next hour acquiring various trinkets and Muggle-safe magical items—gifts for Tony and Banner that wouldn't accidentally explode or achieve sentience. Everything was packaged for delivery, allowing her to return to Flourish and Blotts unencumbered.
She found Banner surrounded by a fortress of books that reached nearly to his shoulder.
"Success?" she inquired, surveying his selections.
Banner looked up with the slightly glazed expression of someone who'd discovered an entire universe of knowledge. "I may have gotten carried away. Is this too ambitious?"
Gemini examined the titles, efficiently culling duplicates and texts she already owned. "These will do nicely. The others I have in my personal library—I'll locate them when we return."
Even after her editing, Banner's collection remained substantial. The bookstore owner, impressed by the purchase, threw in a Portable Bookshelf—a clever device that could shrink to pendant size while maintaining access to its contents.
After treating Banner to an authentic magical dinner—his first taste of Butterbeer and Cauldron Cakes—they returned to find Gemini's shop transformed.
The renovation crew she'd hired had worked with typical wizarding efficiency. From the street, the building appeared unchanged, but inside, the space had expanded dramatically. The ground floor now boasted several employee suites, the second floor offered guest accommodations for Harry and Tony, and the basement included a specially reinforced safe room equipped with emergency supplies—Tony's requested sanctuary.
"Coby," Gemini called to her house-elf, "please deliver Dr. Banner's books to the basement study. And bring up Professor Snape's portrait—I have something to show him."
The portrait materialized with its subject wearing his characteristic scowl, still radiating irritation from his recent forced cohabitation with Sirius.
"Miss Black," Snape said with icy politeness, "to what do I owe this... pleasure?"
Gemini produced a crystal vial filled with dark crimson liquid. "Professor, I've discovered a method for Muggles to brew potions successfully. This Blood-Replenishing Potion was created by someone with no magical ability whatsoever."
Snape's prepared sarcasm died on his lips as he focused on the potion. The liquid sat perfectly still until Gemini gave it a gentle swirl, sending meteor-like sediment cascading through the mixture in patterns that spoke of masterful technique.
His dark eyes narrowed in professional assessment. "The color saturation is precise, the consistency optimal..." He paused, clearly struggling with his conclusion. "This could earn an Outstanding. You're certain a Muggle brewed this?"
Coming from Severus Snape—a man who considered Exceeds Expectations a generous grade—this was nothing short of miraculous.
Gemini smiled with satisfaction. "His name is Dr. Bruce Banner. He's been studying with me for months, and his natural instincts for potion-making are... extraordinary."
Snape's expression shifted from skepticism to something approaching hunger. "I would like to observe this Muggle's technique. If he can truly achieve this level of precision without magic..." The portrait's eyes gleamed with the intensity of a man who'd discovered a new frontier. "This could revolutionize our understanding of the art."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Gemini said, already planning Banner's introduction to his new, impossibly demanding mentor. "Welcome to the future of potion-making, Professor."
In the basement study, Banner sneezed unexpectedly, unaware that his quiet life of learning was about to become significantly more complicated.
Meanwhile, on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, advance teams from both China and Japan were setting up their respective training camps. The Chinese delegation had arrived with an impressive array of traditional implements—flying swords, formation arrays, and talismans that hummed with ancient power. The Japanese team, by contrast, had brought shrine maidens, ceremonial fans, and an unwavering devotion to honor that would either inspire victory or ensure spectacular defeat.
The International Quidditch Federation officials watched nervously from their temporary headquarters, wondering if they'd need to invest in resurrection spells along with the usual medical supplies.
This was going to be a match for the ages.
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