Disclaimer: I would recommend that you always wear a helmet while riding, it likely would have saved Col. Lawrence's life.
*****
Aircraftsman Shaw's Superior Motorcycle
Harry and Phil left the bookshop at Diagon Alley laden with wrapped packages and surrounded by grim unsmiling men.
"Thanks for letting me make a couple quick stops," Harry said gratefully.
"No problem, Harry," Phil replied. "Still want to make a stop at a normal bookstore on the way back?"
"If it isn't too much trouble," Harry agreed. "Unless of course, you've already picked up a bunch of engineering manuals for Hermione and Luna."
"Christmas shopping?"
"It's my first real Christmas," Harry said simply. Spent with a family and outside of the school, as it was supposed to be. "I want to make it special."
"We've got about four hours before we need to be back," Phil said after a quick glance at his watch. "Leaves us an hour or two for shopping."
"I hope it doesn't take that long," Harry said quickly.
"Spoken like a true man," Phil laughed. They walked through the Cauldron and stepped into the waiting car. "Excuse me for a moment, Harry," Phil said as he opened a compartment and pulled out a handset. "I need to make a quick call."
"Sure," Harry agreed.
"It's me," Phil said into the phone. "Did you get my fax? So soon? Good. Buy it and keep an eye out for more of them. Pulled up the rails huh? Put an option on it. What's your other idea? Get a list, put the ones in Scotland and near my house near the top. Good. Good. Really? Good. I'll talk to you later." He hung up the phone and carefully closed the compartment. "Sorry about that, Harry."
"No problem, I know how it can be sometimes."
"What did you have in mind?" Phil asked.
"Sir?"
"For the girls, what did you want to get them?"
"Figured I'd get a couple engineering texts for Luna," Harry replied. "Don't know what for Hermione. Was hoping that I could find something in Diagon but that ended up being a bust." Looked like he was going to have to send Hedwig out if he wanted to get something special.
IIIIIIIIII
Between them, Hermione and Luna managed to produce several pages of notes in the short time they were in the museum and the girls spent much of the ride home chattering excitedly about what they'd learned.
"Could you drop us off at father's garage?" Hermione requested politely as they pulled onto the family lands. "I wanna show Luna the car father's building with me."
"No problem, Ms. Hermione," the large driver agreed after receiving a discrete nod from the girl's mother.
"Thank you, Thomas," the girl said politely. Hermione turned back to her friend. "Daddy is also letting me keep Harry's motorcycle collection there."
"How wonderful," Luna said with a smile. The car pulled out of a stand of trees, allowing Luna her first look at the impressive Granger residence. "It's very large," Luna mumbled in shock. "Very, very large."
"My great-great-great-grandfather wanted to show off rather than use the money for something useful," Hermione sniffed at the thought of someone being so vain.
"It's no worse then what your ancestors on the other side did, darling," Anne laughed, thinking of the monstrosity that was her own family's ancestral home. "You must remember to judge people by the standards of their day, darling, not your own."
"Yes, mum," Hermione agreed.
IIIIIIIIII
Phil turned to Harry as the car pulled to a stop in front of the stately Granger residence. "I'll go distract the girls, you get everything hidden in your room."
"Alright," Harry agreed.
"Give me fifteen minutes before you make your move," Phil said as he got out of the car. "Help him with the things, James."
"Yes, sir," the driver agreed.
Phil found the girls tinkering with a motorcycle in his garage. "Hello girls," he said, announcing himself. "Keeping busy?"
"Yes, Daddy," Hermione agreed.
"Yes, Mr. Granger," Luna said shyly.
"Call me Phil," he said with a smile. "I . . ." he froze.
"Is there something wrong, Daddy?" Hermione asked, worried at his sudden and abrupt change in demeanor.
"Do you know what this is?" Phil gasped, staring at the bike the two girls were working on in shocked wonder.
"What is it, Daddy?" Hermione asked.
"It's a Vincent Black Prince," Phil said in shocked awe. "It was the greatest motorcycle of its time. One of Harry's?"
"Yes, Daddy," Hermione agreed.
"Why don't you show me the rest of his collection," Phil suggested, voice catching.
It was unlikely that the boy had another piece that was even half as spectacular, he told himself.
Best not get one's hopes up, he told himself.
But Phil's heart was beating a mile a minute in anticipation as he followed the girls into the depths of the garage.
"We've only got maybe a third of it put back together," Hermione warned as she led him to the part of the garage she'd commandeered.
Phil was dumbstruck. Before him were rows upon rows of carefully assembled classic motorcycles. To think he'd hoped the boy would have one interesting piece in his collection. What lay before him exceeded even his wildest dreams.
"I'm gonna need to contact someone I know about this," Phil mumbled half to to himself as his mind began to catalogue some of the other treasures.
"Why's that, daddy?" Hermione asked.
"Because the value of this may dwarf what Harry already has in his vault," Phil replied. "The Vincent alone is worth . . ." he shook his head. "Tell me if he decides to sell any of this, I'm not normally interested in motorcycles but I'd be prepared to make an exception for some of this." To rob his favorite brother in law of the chance to purchase them if for no other reason.
"Alright, daddy," Hermione agreed. "Just so you know, I don't think Harry will be interested in selling any of this."
"That's fine, darling."
"Is it really that valuable?" Luna asked shyly.
"I think so," Phil agreed. "It's not really my field, but they sell motorcycles at some of the auctions I attend so I do have some idea." He shook his head in shock. "When you told me Harry had a motorcycle collection, I'd assumed . . . well, I don't know what I'd assumed but I surely didn't expect something like this.."
"Could you teach us how to ride, daddy?" Hermione asked sweetly and in full knowledge that she had her father wrapped around her finger.
"You want to ride?" he stared at his daughter in shock. It had been surprising enough to find out that his little girl had taken an interest in mechanics.
"I think Harry would," Hermione replied. "I'd like to at least try it."
"So would I," Luna agreed.
"I'll see to it, darling," he agreed. Phil made a mental note to pick up a couple of disposable bikes for the lessons. He couldn't in good conscience allow them to learn on the gems before him knowing what a crime it would be a crime to let one of Harry's classics get damaged by a beginner's mistake even with magic to make it better.
IIIIIIIIII
Anne caught Harry as he was walking through the front door with the purchases he'd made in Diagon Alley and later at a more mundane bookshop.
"Christmas Presents?" she asked dryly.
"Yes, Mrs. Granger," Harry agreed.
"Take the bags from him and make sure they're hidden where my daughter and her guest can't find them," Anne shot an order at one of the maids. "An owl delivered an envelope for you, Harry. It's in the study."
"Probably from Neville. He promised invitations for me and the girls to his party," Harry replied. "There should be one for you too."
IIIIIIIIII
In a daze, Phil stumbled back into the house and collapsed into his favorite chair. The Vincent had been just the tip of what he now believed would turn out to be one of the better collections of classic British motorcycles in the country if not the world.
"Under my nose the whole time and I didn't even know it," he mumbled to himself. Everyone dreamed of finding a classic automobile in a forgotten barn, Harry had found dozens of classic motorcycles in a derelict townhouse. The boy had the devil's own luck.
"Something wrong, sir?" the butler asked.
"Sorry?"
"I asked if there was something wrong, sir," the butler repeated.
"Ah, no. I hadn't realized the extent of Harry's motorcycles collection until I had a chance to see it for myself," Phil said with a laugh. "Please remind me to get someone in to appraise it and remind me to see that it gets insured before the end of the holidays."
"I will, sir," the butler agreed. "Your wife asked me to find you, sir. She wants to have a word about the invitation you accepted earlier today."
"A good word, or a bad one?"
"I wouldn't care to guess, sir."
"Of course you wouldn't," Phil sighed. "Do you happen know where she is right now?"
"In the study with young Mister Harry," the butler replied.
"Thank you." Phil rose to his feet. "Best go see what she wants."
"I've found it best not to put these things off, sir," the butler agreed with a grin. "James and Thomas would like a word after your wife is finished with you, sir."
"Tell them that should I survive, I'll meet with them in my office."
"I shall, good luck, sir."
When he found her, his lady wife had an expression of extreme annoyance on her face. One she focused on him the second he made his appearance.
"What have I done now?" he asked calmly.
"Two days doesn't give me a lot of time to prepare for a social event," she said with a frown. "Especially not our debut in magical society."
"I hadn't realized it was so soon," Phil admitted contritely. "Sorry about that, dear. I'd have been sure to call ahead if I had known."
"It's no big deal," Anne said with a wave. "Just means we don't have much time to get Hermione and Luna's dresses made." The woman had been more than a bit relieved to learn that Harry's wardrobe had already taken care of. She'd also been more than a bit impressed by the extent of it, the boy had everything from evening wear to traditional highland dress.
"You've already called your dress maker then?"
"Of course," Anne agreed. "Why?"
"Because you might have asked the girls first," Phil pointed out. "For all we know they might want to wear formal robes."
"You're right," Anne sighed. "They're in the garage aren't they?"
"Should be," Phil agreed. "It's where they were a couple minutes ago anyway."
Anne found the two girls after a couple minutes of searching and was a bit put out by her daughter's admitted ignorance of the matter. She'd told the girl more than once how important it was to at least have some idea of what to wear for a formal event.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I don't really pay too much attention to that sort of thing." To be quite frank, she didn't see what the big deal was.
"Darling, your social position means that you have to know these things," Anne chided gently. "You're going to have to learn these things some day."
"Hmph," Hermione sniffed in mock disdain.
"Either one will be fine," Luna offered shyly after it became clear that Hermione had nothing more to add. "In fact, a dress might be better if the level of quality is high enough." For a party hosted by the Longbottoms anyway, it would give them a chance to show off how progressive they were to the right sort.
"Thank you, Luna," Anne said with a smile.
"I am happy to help, Anne," Luna replied, basking in the woman's approval.
IIIIIIIIII
James made a show of handing Thomas a couple coins when Phil entered his his office to meet with them.
"What was that all about?"
"Just a little wager," James explained. "Didn't believe you'd get here in one piece, Thomas figured your low class background would see you through."
"What low class background?" Phil laughed. "Eton followed by Cambridge like my father before me and his before him and so on. I'm as privileged as one can find."
"Yeah," James agreed. "But you aren't any sort of Lord. Ms. Anne says that makes you a frightfully low class commoner. Not half a step out-a-the east end the way she sees it."
"Must be feeling frisky tonight if she asked you to put on that show," Phil said eagerly. "Enough fun, what did you two want to speak with me about?"
"Few names on the list you gave us stood out. Got a couple retired Constables, one guy I knew in the Regiment that was a green grocer last I heard from 'im, and a couple that work for your friend at the club."
"Wonder if he knows about them?" Phil said thoughtfully. "You want to hire them?"
"Be nice," James agreed. "Also like your permission to talk to a couple people that Mr. Harry mentioned."
"You don't mind werewolves, do you, Mr. Granger?" Thomas asked with a grin. "Mister Harry says that he's got one in mind that's an okay bloke and that he can probably find more like 'im that are only out of it a few nights a month. Promises that we aren't in any danger if we take precautions."
"You're joking?"
"Afraid not, sir," Thomas replied. "We'll need a secure room for him to lock himself in a few nights a month if you give the go ahead."
"I hired you two because you had good judgement, not because I wanted you to come to me every time you had a decision to make," Phil told them with a grin. "Use your judgement."
"Yes, sir," James agreed.
"I thought he hired us because we were a couple strapping young lads that were easy on the eyes," Thomas whispered loudly. "Least, that's what his ex-sister in law told us."
"It's a good thing that Mrs. Granger is understanding about these sorts of things," James agreed. "Still a shame she's keeping him from living openly though."
"The more I hear about that gold digging bitch, the gladder I am that my idiot brother divorced her," Phil sighed.
"We might have had a few contingency plans in place if he didn't," James admitted happily. "There's a reason the other servants were so attentive every time she came to the house and why Ms. Hermione was always taking a nap and not to be disturbed whenever that bitch wanted to see her." Ms. Jane had only had to get nasty about it once, not even the bitch had been stupid enough to try to push things a second time. It was a pity in a way, there would been no chance of her trying anything a third time if she had.
"Fortunately, that never had to happen," Thomas said in relief.
"Dare I ask?"
"Probably best if you didn't, sir. No worse than what you'd have ordered in any case if that makes you feel better."
"Nothing that was too far out from what you'd already ordered, sir," James added. "We just used our judgement to cover a few gaps you didn't think to."
"Thank you. Both of you. All of you," he corrected himself. "Please pass my heartfelt thanks on to everyone involved."
IIIIIIIIII
Luna took the seat next to Hermione who in turn was seated in her customary spot next to Harry and across from her parents as they sat down at the table and did her best to ape the other girl's movements so as to fit in, in the unfamiliar setting.
"Luna," Anne called out with a smile. "Hermione isn't the best one to copy. Her knowledge of etiquette wouldn't fill a thimble."
Luna looked down at her pate with a deep blush. "Oh."
"Don't be embarrassed, dear. You're doing things exactly the way you're supposed to in an unfamiliar situation. I just thought I'd give you a small warning before you picked up any of my daughter's many bad habits."
"I still say that none of that matters," Hermione insisted, chin going up. "It's not like I'm going to go to any of your social events. Those fancy rituals of yours are just ways to set yourself apart from the other classes."
Phil's booming laugh echoed throughout the room. "Wonderful argument, darling. I recall your mother making a similar argument when-"
"Hush," Anne cut him off, a deep blush adorned the woman's face as she remembered the incident and the argument it spawned that had resulted in their only daughter. She suppressed the heartache that accompanied the thought that Hermione would likely be an only child with the ease of long practice. One miracle was likely more than any family had a right to hope for.
"Mum?"
"I agree with you to some extent, darling." Anne gave an impish smile. "Just be aware of how much of an asset it can be to fit into whatever society you're in."
"Yes, mum," Hermione agreed.
Anne gave a satisfied nod before turning to her newest guest. "So, Luna, Hermione tells me that your family is in the newspaper business."
"Since seventeen sixty nine when my ancestor started printing broadsides," Luna said, resisting the urge to look down at her lap.
"Do you happen to know how much your father charges for advertising space?" Phil asked absently. "Because I-"
"No business at the table," Anne cut him off. "Sorry, Luna."
"I do," Luna agreed. "We can discuss rates later if you like."
Harry kept silent throughout the meal, choosing instead to observe his dining companions and to listen to the conversations happening around him. So this is what a normal family is like, he marveled. Before Luna arrived, he hadn't been able to sit back and take it all in and, as much as he cared for them, the Weasleys could never be considered 'normal.'
'Would this be what his parents would have been like?' Harry wondered to himself. 'Would his family have sat around the table seamlessly shifting from conversation to conversation?' Another reason to curse Voldemort, he concluded to himself as the meal came to a close.
Anne caught her husband's eyes and slowly licked her lips. A familiar thought went through her mind: a low chance of success wasn't the same as a zero chance of success. "I find that I am absolutely beat. I think I shall retire to my bedchamber," she announced.
"I'll join you," Phil said with a smile of anticipation. "Good night, Harry, girls."
"Good night, mum. Good night, daddy," Hermione replied automatically. "Come on, Luna, you're sharing my room."
"Alright, Hermione," Luna agreed, allowing herself to be dragged out of the room. "Good night, Harry," she called over her shoulder.
"Good night," Harry said to the now empty room. He nodded to the maids as they began clearing the table, treasuring every moment of his holiday at the Granger home.
IIIIIIIIII
Phil was unsurprised to find that Harry had already awoken and eaten when he finally managed to pull himself out of bed. The short time he'd known the boy had already familiarized him with his young guest's habits. A frown appeared on the man's face, really needed to speak to his brother in law to see how things were progressing.
"Morning, Phil," Harry said cheerfully.
"Harry." Phil grinned. "Ever play golf?"
"No, sir."
"Would you care to learn?" Phil asked hopefully. "The girls will be busy getting their dresses fitted so I figured it would be best to get out of the house."
"Sure," Harry agreed. "When do we leave?"
"How about now?" Phil suggested.
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione had to drag herself out of bed the next morning. Having been up half the night chatting with Luna, waking up was a chore.
"I'm sorry, Hermione, did I wake you?" Luna's chirped. "I've tried to be quiet so I wouldn't disturb you."
"How long have you been up, Luna?" Hermione demanded.
"I slept in a bit," Luna admitted guiltily. "So, five or so hours."
"It's ten o'clock now," Hermione groaned. "When did we go to sleep last night?"
"Half past one," Luna happily supplied the answer. "Which is why I allowed myself to sleep in, I don't usually stay up so late."
"Have you had breakfast yet?"
"I was afraid to leave the room," Luna admitted. "I know I'd get lost in this giant house of yours if I did and I'm not sure anyone would ever find me again."
"Afraid that no one would ever find you again. Good one, Luna," Hermione giggled. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."
"Alright," the confused blonde agreed. She hadn't realized that she had said something funny. She mentally went over the conversation they'd just had and came up blank.
IIIIIIIIII
Phil was about to make his shot when Harry's hand flashed in front of his face, causing him to abort it in mid stroke.
"Trying to spoil my shot?" he asked with a grin.
"Sorry." Harry opened his hand and let the golf ball he'd caught fall to the ground. "Didn't think you'd want to get hit."
"Good reflexes," Phil commented calmly. "James."
"Yes, sir?"
"I thought you said my brother in law wasn't playing today?"
"He wasn't supposed to be, sir," James replied.
"Mind if we cut the game short, Harry?" Phil asked. "I think I've had enough close calls today and my brother in law on the course means that while that may be the first, it certainly will not be the last or even the worst."
"Alright," Harry agreed.
"Come on," Phil said, turning to walk towards the clubhouse where there was less chance of being hit by an errant shot. "I'll introduce you to Hermione's uncle. I think you'll like him, he's a nice enough chap for a completely useless bastard."
IIIIIIIIII
After being forced to endure the horror of being measured and fitted, Hermione and Luna retreated to the safety of the garage to continue their work on Harry's motorcycles collection.
"Hermione." The girl heard her mother's voice. "You have a visitor."
"Who is . . . Professor Lupin," she said in delight. "What are you doing here?"
"Found two more boxes of those parts," Remus replied. "Not sure if you want them, but I put them aside for you like you asked."
"Thank you, Remus," Hermione said sweetly. "I'll tell Harry that you're the one that's been finding all this for him."
"I'm not doing much," Remus said with a pleased blush. "Just cleaning the place up because I don't have anything else to do."
"Please bring any muggle things, books, and notes to me before throwing them out," Hermione requested. "Everything you've found so far has been fascinating."
"I wouldn't throw anything out without talking to you and Harry first," Remus promised. "Not even the dark items, might have to fight Bill for those though."
"What's he want with dark items?" Hermione's lip curled in disgust.
"Says removing the curses helps keep his hand in," Remus replied.
IIIIIIIIII
Tears were streaming down Harry's face and his chest felt like it was going to burst. He hadn't laughed so hard or so much in . . . maybe ever.
"No more," he wheezed. "No more jokes, I don't think I can take it."
"Suit yourself," Hermione's uncle, the man that had introduced himself as Lord Useless the seventh sniffed. "Youth these days have no endurance." The man was just over six feet with dark hair and a physique that gave lie to his claims of idleness.
"Nah," Phil disagreed. "It's like getting exposed to an infectious disease the first time. Kid's got no natural immunity." He smirked. "I do, and as an expert on infectious diseases, my professional opinion is that your jokes are as bad as your game."
"Not my fault you weren't standing anywhere near the hole," Hermione's uncle barked. "We both know that the object of the game is to get the ball anywhere but the hole with extra points if you get it in the rough, the water, or the sand."
"You've got it backwards again."
"So you say. I on the other hand maintain that you're position is based on the fact that you're just jealous of my perfect game." With an upturned chin, he made an obvious show of turning away from his brother in law. "So, Harry, you're staying with my niece are you?"
"Yes, sir," Harry agreed.
"Call me Jim," he said easily. "Do I need to make any threats about treating her right? I mean, it goes without saying that I'll break your legs if you make her cry, doesn't it? Let alone what I'll do to you if you hurt her in any way."
"The staff already took care of that," Harry replied cheerfully. "I'll tell you the same thing I told them. She's my best friend, if someone hurts her, I will kill them."
Both men were taken aback at the sense of certainty in the boy's voice when he'd delivered the statement. There had been no humor, no menace, no more emotion than if he'd been commenting on the weather.
"Good to hear," Jim replied weakly. What in the hell had the boy endured to forge such steel at such a young age? That thought was quickly followed by another, more terrifying thought, had any of it spilled over onto his niece? He'd have to make a note to request some time off to resolve things personally if so.
"Harry's got a Black Prince," Phil said suddenly, desperately hoping to change the subject even as his mind whirled with similar thoughts to those of his brother in law.
"My word, really!" Jim stared at Harry for a couple seconds. "Any chance you'd be willing to sell it to me?" he asked hopefully.
"Not at the moment," Harry replied. "I'll let you know if I change my mind."
"Wherever did you find it?" Jim persisted.
"My godfather left it to me along with his other motorcycles," Harry replied.
"What else do you have?" Jim asked eagerly. "Are you willing to part with any of them?"
"They're still going through it," Harry replied. "And not at this time."
"Damn," Jim cursed.
"He's got Hermione going through it and putting it all back together," Phil laughed. "Turned my perfect little princess into a greasy petrolhead ."
"My niece working with her hands?" Jim gasped. "Doing something productive? The family will never live this latest shame down."
"You'll just have to be extra useless to balance things out," Phil suggested.
"There's a thought," Jim said happily. "Knew I could count on you, Phil. One of the reasons I never minded the fact that my dear sister married down."
"I thought it was because I had top shelf booze at our wedding and made sure that she invited all her attractive unattached friends," Phil shot back.
"That too," Jim agreed. "Well, mostly that."
IIIIIIIIII
Remus was on his way out of the spacious Granger home when a hand the size of a shovel blade came to rest on his shoulder. "Got a minute?" The man attached to the massive paw asked.
"What do you need?" Remus asked, coming face to face with a man that had been introduced to him as one of the drivers.
"Why don't you step into my office?" the man suggested with a grin. "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse."
IIIIIIIIII
The chance to get a look at Harry's bike collection proved to be irresistible to Hermione's uncle, especially when it was coupled with a chance to spend some time with the girl. At least that was his stated reason as to why he'd chosen to accompany them back to the stately Granger estate.
"Hermione should be in the garage with the collection," Phil said to his brother in law as the car pulled to a stop.
"And you expect me to walk from here?" Jim whined, a look of comical dismay on his face. "It must be at least fifty meters, that's inhuman."
"That's life," Phil said nastily. "Shouldn't have mooched a ride."
"Bastard," Jim growled. He leapt out of the car and stalked away. "Just for that, I'm writing you out of my will again," he said over his shoulder.
"Come on, Harry. He'll be back with Hermione in a bit."
IIIIIIIIII
Remus was in a daze, he had a job. A job that paid triple what he'd gotten as a Professor at Hogwarts doing something he'd have happily done for free.
"How in the world did I get back to Grimmauld Place without splinching myself?" he wondered to himself. No matter, he had work to do. "First thing's first," he mumbled to himself. "Have to get ready to speak with Bill, wards before everything else."
IIIIIIIIII
Jim walked through the door and, by habit, stepped to the side. After a short pause to allow his eyes to adjust, he began walking towards the sounds of someone working.
"Where's the prettiest girl in the world?" he bellowed.
"Uncle Jim," Hermione squealed, throwing herself into the big man's arms, ruining his Savile Row suit with the grease smeared on her overalls. "I thought you were out of the country on business again. When did you get back?"
"Accidentally blew up the place I was staying in and had to come back in a hurry to avoid yet another angry mob of people that didn't understand that accidents are best looked at as learning experiences," Jim explained with a much put upon sigh. "You wouldn't think cooking breakfast for yourself was so difficult, but it is. Let my example be a lesson to you that you should leave that sort of thing to the staff and never ever attempt to do it yourself."
Hermione giggled, her uncle was always joking about going to exotic place, meeting interesting people, and accidentally blowing them up. "Did you bring me back anything?"
"Have you been a good girl?" he shot back.
"Been absolutely rotten," Hermione said proudly. "It's all thanks to Harry too. He's a terrible influence. Just last year we broke into a government building and busted the place up."
"That's my girl," he said proudly. "But that was last year. What have you done lately?"
"Studying up on steam technology and blowing things up accidentally so I'm starting to understand how all those accidents keep happening to you," she giggled. "The beginning half of the year is always quiet. I don't expect things to heat up for another few months."
"Good." Jim filed that piece of information away into his to look into later file. He reached into his pocket and withdrew an engraved silver cigarette case. "Here you go, my darling, use it in good health."
"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously, turning the item over in her hand.
"Open it," he prompted.
The inside of the cigarette case was filled with an assortment of saws, hooks, and other miniaturized tools. "What's the map of?"
"The area around that school of yours on one side and the area around a small island off the coast on the other on silk," he said easily. "Replaced the one it came with since you'll never go there if you've got any sense. Absolutely dull place." It also wouldn't be a good idea for anyone related to him to go near for quite some time, even with all the trouble he went to keeping his personal and professional lives separate. ~[Authors note: Couldn't figure out what OG Author meant]~
"Why were you there, then?" Hermione chirped.
"Cause I don't have any sense," he answered with a grin. "Cheeky brat."
Hermione's cheeks dimpled. "Uncle Jim, I want you to meet my friend, Luna."
"Hello," the little blonde said shyly.
"You're the one that's helping our Hermione put together all the motorcycles?"
"I am, sir," Luna agreed.
"Call me Jim. It's a pleasure to meet you, Luna." Jim gave the girl a wide grin. "Mind showing them to me?"
The blushing girl just shook her head in reply.
"Come on, Uncle Jim." Hermione grabbed the man's hand and pulled him towards the garage. "We'll give you the grand tour, right, Luna?"
"Right," Luna agreed.
He allowed himself to be dragged into the garage and to the skeleton of a partially assembled motorcycles.
"This is the latest one we've been reassembling," Hermione said proudly.
"A 1932 Brough Superior SS100 by god," he whispered in awe. "That's the bike T. E. Lawrence managed to kill himself on." His head turned violently from side to side, glancing at and identifying several of the shadowy shapes.
"That's good?" Hermione asked.
"It's bloody marvelous," Jim mumbled. "This whole collection is. It's mostly Triumphs and Nortons, but by god the things he's got mixed in for flavor. Two bloody Vincents, what kind of world just drops two bloody Vincents into anyone's lap? Do you know how hard I had to look to find the one I've got?" he demanded.
"Harry's always had the strangest luck," Luna spoke up. "Copious amounts of it, both good and bad unfortunately."
"Bloody hell," the man mumbled to himself. "I think you'd better take me back into the house before my poor heart gives out."
"Would you like the key to wine cellar so you can get something to help recover your wits?" Hermione asked.
"The day I need a key to get into a wine cellar is the day I'm too drunk to open a bottle," he said with an uplifted chin. "Though I wouldn't say no to the loan of that cigarette case I just gave you. Your father's likely upgraded the locks again since my last visit."