Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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A tall figure stood at the top of the retaining wall of a castle's turret. His arms folded across his chest, revealing black gauntlets with grayish black scale designs. His cloak blew in the breeze, revealing matching shin guards, his face hidden by his hood.

It was almost sunset. Below him his army, yes His army, prepared for the start of the second Voldemort war. He watched as his men loaded their vehicles and armed themselves.

They were the most powerful army the Wizarding World had ever seen. Also the most deadly. Wizards and muggles, equipped with wands, swords, rifles, potions, explosives, charms, portkeys, radios and armor.

The Wizarding World was in for one Hell of a wake up call. They called him an unstable attention seeking brat when he told them the truth. And when the truth was finally revealed, the so-called leaders of the Wizarding World sat around twiddling their thumbs, getting rich and playing the blame game instead of doing what was needed.

So he spent the last summer and half his school year preparing for this. People were going to die and he found little comfort in knowing that it had to be done. But as his former mentor used to say, "It's for the greater good."

But he would do this his way.

It is seldom wise to fight two fronts in a war, lest you spread your forces too thin or get boxed in like the Nazis in World War II. But if all things went according to plan, one side of the war would be eliminated with this initial strike.

He could only hope and pray that those who put their faith in him were not let down. Fate had given him the tools and the opportunity, and he had taken it.

"My Lord Azkaban, our forces will be ready to move within the hour."

The cloaked figure pulled back his hood, revealing a small but elegant crown on his head. The crown and his messy black hair did not hide his infamous lightening bolt scar.

He turned around and hopped off the wall. His green eyes fell on the person who had spoken. It was a tall blonde, curly headed man wearing what could be described as ancient Roman armor and a cape.

"Very good Commander."

He looked past the Commander and saw several people standing before him with mixed expressions. Pride, worry, nervousness, excitement, calm and terror, but these people, along with every other being on this island and back in Britain, trusted him, had put their lives in his hands. He could not and would not back down till this war was over, and everyone he cared about could live in peace, and never look over their shoulders in fear.

"Then we attack within the hour."

TBC

A/N:
After reading some Harry Potter, Lord of Azkaban fics, I only found two. I decided to give it a shot. This is also my attempt at a harem fic, yes Harry will have a lot of girls after/with him.