Chelsea and Afton are a pairing that have not been explored deeply on Fanfiction, so I thought I would give it a go. They are a mysterious couple in the books, and there is absolutely no reference to their births or times of change, so I have made it up myself. I thought I would make them a fairly recent addition to the guard, as many of the other members are over hundreds of years old, and I thought there should be a variety.

This is all written from Chelsea's perspective as War Nurse, in her Diary. This is her life as a human.

3rd September 1939

Horrible news! – We are at war with Germany! The Prime Minister announced it over the wireless at quarter past eleven this morning and we are all in a state of shock. Deep down we all knew it was inevitable, but it is still hard for us to take in.

The day started off like any other, I suppose; Mother was in the kitchen preparing the Sunday roast and Father was in his study reading some important files from his work. Me and Timothy were just in the middle of an argument over goodness knows what- I've forgotten with everything else that is on my mind- when the music was interrupted by Chamberlain broadcasting that he had important news. We both fell silent and Mother came rushing out from the kitchen, calling for Father, and he ran into the living room with his teeth clenched tightly around his pipe. He looked rather silly and I couldn't stop giggling, before Mother gave me a stern look and told me to hush. For the next five minutes, we all sat and listened to the sombre voice of our Prime Minister and he told us that we had declared war on the Germans. Apparently their leader, Adolf Hitler, failed to meet the ultimatum Britain had given him, of pulling his troops out of Poland by eleven O'clock this morning. It is now Britain's duty to join and help defend the rest of Europe from the Nazi's.

We all sat very still, as if frozen, for a few beats before Mother leaned over and snapped the Wireless off.

"Come along Chelsea," she said to me. "I'll help you pack."

Her head was held high as she walked from the room, and she was acting as practical as ever, but something about her expression told me that she was trying not to cry.

As soon as war had seemed likely I had rushed to join the Red Cross, in the hope of passing my training and becoming a VAD (Voluntary Aid Detachment) – In other words; A nurse. Two weeks prior to today I received a letter saying I had passed – which was jolly good seeing as I had still been at school during my course- and would be posted in the Havenbrook Military Hospital in the South of the country as soon as war was declared. In other words, today!

Mother helped me drag my heavy suitcase from under my bed, which had last been used for when I went to school. I got a rather peculiar feeling in my tummy when I saw the St. Catherine's sticker still stuck on the corner. It was only in July that I finished my Upper Sixth year, but I feel ages older all ready! Perhaps it is the thought of me being a qualified nurse to soldiers, which makes me feel so?

We packed everything we could think of me needing, with Mother even going far enough as to retrieving my old wooden Lacrosse stick from the cupboard! Goodness knows when I will need that!

"Just in case." She had said, but I still felt a little silly.

When we were done she left the room for me to change into my uniform, which was hanging crisp and neatly in my wardrobe. The clothes I would wear to the station today were the outdoor ones, which consisted of a navy serge jacket and skirt, worn over the top of a white shirt and a black tie. I also had to wear a pair of black cotton stockings (terribly itchy!) and a pair of horrid clumpy shoes. The uniform I would wear in the wards was a little bit better; A long grey-ish blue dress and a white apron, with a red cross on the bib. There was also a pair of white half-sleeves which I would wear over the top of the dress, and a funny white hat with a small red cross on the front.

I put on my 'outdoor' uniform and went back into the living-room, prompting Timothy to roar with laughter.

"You look like you have a pudding bowl on your head!" He exclaimed, and I was ready to ridicule his uniform, when I stopped short. He was wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant. I had known for ages that he was planning on joining in 'the action', as he put it, in France, but seeing him looking so young and yet so ready to join with the fighting made me have a moment of blind terror for my brother. As a nurse I would be treating many wounded soldiers, some of which would likely die. Soldiers like him.

"Oh Timothy!" I cried, throwing my arms around his neck and proceeding to cry into his collar. He hugged me back tightly, before tilting my chin upwards so I was looking into his light blue eyes.

"Don't cry Cheals. I'll be all right. You'll see."

"I'll miss you." I sobbed, and he handed me his hanky, before brushing a lock of my red hair behind my ear.

"And I'll miss you Cheals. But here, I have a present for you."

He fished into his pocket and brought out a little book with a green hard cover. I took it from his hands and flipped it open expectantly, but was disappointed to see blank pages.

"It's empty." I noted, and he nodded.

"It's for you to write in. I want you to keep a diary for me to read when this blasted war is over. It'll make me feel like I was there with you."

I promised him I would do so but I privately thought against it. A diary was a private sort of thing, and I didn't think I would ever feel comfortable showing it to him.

The time came when we had to leave, and Derek, the Gardner, helped me and Mother load the trunk of the car with my suitcase. I was awfully embarrassed when I saw him struggling with my Lacrosse stick! I hugged Mother and Timothy good-bye, promising letters, before climbing in the car with Father, who was going to drive me to the station.

On arrival, we embraced a little awkwardly, and he kissed me on the forehead.

"This is a fantastic opportunity for you, Chelsea." He told me, and I told answered I knew. He quickly pinned the VAD badge to my sleeve, his face shining with pride as he did. The badge declares that I am a 'mobile-VAD', meaning that I can be moved around various hospitals throughout the country. As I am only nineteen I cannot be posted abroad for another two years, but after that I can even be put in France!

I was soon lost in the bustle of the station, and I began to feel a little homesick. We were at war, and I was going far from everyone that I loved, and everywhere that I knew. I couldn't recognise the faces of any of the other VAD's around me, which made me feel terribly lonely. Where were the girls I had trained with? A few of the older looking nurses had stripes on their jackets, which meant that they had been VAD's for longer than I had.

I quickly boarded one of the carriages, and smiled shyly at the other girls around me, all with uniforms similar to my own. The whistle blew and the train rolled out of the station, before quickly gaining speed. Some of the others were leaning out of the windows to start with, waving their hankies in good-bye, but they were soon given a good talking to by one of the ticket men.

The carriage was awfully silent the entire journey, as we were all fresh-faced and friendless! The girl in front of me seemed quite nice, as she gave me a piece of ginger to suck on when I felt a little ill. She told he her name was Mary, and I told her mine. Nothing much else was said, as we felt a little awkward, but I suspect I will soon know all of these faces almost as well as my own!

Chelsea Everton

Well? What do you think? Should I continue? Please review and let me know.