Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and this translation of the Art of War is the property of Ralph D. Sawyer. Enjoy my work...
The Art of War
Warfare is the greatest affair of state, the basis of life and death., the Tao to survival or extinction. It must be throughly pondered and analyzed...
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Prologue
The mid-day sun rose high over Surrey, as the sweltering heat forced the inhabitants of the houses stretched out below to seek shelter from the suns rays. Men sweating like pigs, trying to ignore the humidity while their wifes fanned themselves to keep cool. Children went to the beach with families, and the local pools were full of youngsters playing the cooling water. All, except one.
At number 4 Privet Drive, a young boy of skinny stature sat underneath a tree, ignorant of the heat, and the area around him. This boy had sat in the same spot day in, and day out for almost the entire first two weeks of the summer. No visits to friends houses, no pools, no attempts to escape the heat.
A passerby, if there were any that happened to walk outside through Privet Drive, would have said that the boy was simply lonely. And in that, they were correct. This boy was lonely. He longed to meet his friends, to talk to his godfather, anything to escape the guilt that plagued him. This boy wasn't a simple lonely boy. He, was a wizard. A right good one at that. The lads name...
"Harry Potter!" rang out the shrill voice of Harry's aunt, Petunia. "Get in side! Now!" she screamed. Jolted from his thoughts, none of which had anything to do with the heat, Harry got up stiffly before walking sullenly back into the house. As he walked into the house, an utterly normal and boring house, he mused on what could his Aunt have wanted now. He had already done his required chores.
Passing the threshold, he looked up to see his Aunt's thin face and horse-like neck. "Freak," she began harshly, only using his real name to call him inside for fear of what the neighbors might think, "you have sat outside under that damn tree for almost the entire summer. The neighbors," she said tensely, "are beginning to ask questions. Now, we both knew questions aren't good, don't we?" she said pointedly, looking at Harry expectantly.
Sighing, Harry bowed his head, "Yes Aunt Petunia." Glad with the docile response, Petunia began walking away from Harry, but not before turning back and giving him a scathing look. "Freak, I don't want you to sit outside under that tree anymore. Go to the library, the park, anywhere else other than here after you've finished your chores," Petunia said, the disdain visible upon her horse-like face.
"Your...condition shouldn't pollute our utterly normal house anymore. What would the neighbors think?" She sneered a final time, before disappearing into the Kitchen. Her head poked out of the doorway one last time, just as Harry was turning to the door. "And don't come back until 8 o'clock! Or no dinner for you boy!"
Sighing again, Harry walked from the house in the direction of the local library, only a 10 minute walk from the house. Exiting the premises of the neighborhood, he mused silently on what had happened the last year at Hogwarts. Sighing in despair, he listened to the sound of his footsteps echoing off the empty sidewalk.
Pausing to look up at the sky, he continued to hear the soft sound of footsteps. Dumbledore's watchers, Harry gathered. He had first noticed the invisible watchers after he noticed bent grass next to him at his position underneath the tree, and when he had gone out at Aunt Petunia's request for groceries because she was too hot to walk herself.
Shaking his head at Dumbledore's insistence of his protection after the return of Voldemort. At the thought of Voldemort Harry's hand clenched painfully, and his fingernails dug into the palm of his skin.
That bastard, Harry thought hatefully, that utter bastard. He killed my parents, he killed Cedric. Taking a deep calming breath, Harry unclenched his hand, shaking it to lessen the pain.
After the event's of the Triwizard tournament, Harry had gone through a depressed stage, sitting under the tree in the Dursley's yard. His guilt still haunted him, but after the first week he had rationalized the death of Cedric, pointing out the things he didn't know, and the things he couldn't have prevented.
Yet Harry still carried guilt over the events, but that guilt had slowly transformed into anger at Voldemort, a rage that pushed Harry into deep contemplation. He took refuge under the tree that housed his guilt, as it now housed his rage.
Under the tree he replayed the events of years past, berating himself on his mistakes, and criticizing his triumphs. Harry no longer wished to be normal, he no longer wished to fit in with the biased and bigots of the Wizarding World.
He wanted a Voldemorts death, and would do nearly anything to gain enough power to do so. Shaking himself from his thoughts, Harry continued walking, ignoring the fact that he stood in the same spot for over five minutes.
Reaching the library, Harry walked in, his watcher following closely behind him. Browsing the sections aimlessly, Harry saw a book that caught his eye. Grabbing it from the book case, Harry looked up at the section he was in. Chinese History read the sign. Looking back to the book, he traced the name of old paperback...Sun Tzu's Art of War.
Perhaps it was not such a bad idea to come to the library after all...
Initial Estimations
Warfare is the greatest affair of state, the basis of life and death., the Tao to survival or extinction. It must be throughly pondered and analyzed...
Therefore, structure it according to the following five factors, evaluate it comparatively through estimations, and seek out its true nature. The first is termed the Tao, the second Heaven, the third Earth, the fourth Generals, the fifth the laws for military organization and discipline.
The Tao causes the people to be fully in accord with the ruler. Thus they will die with him; they will live with him and not fear danger.
In my initial estimations...this book is strange. How can this Tao make the people follow the leader? Is it some strange magic...or just loyalty?
To the fourteen year old boy, almost fifteen, the strange proverbs and words confused the young man greatly. How could one structure war according to some inexplainable thing called Tao? How did Heaven play into War at all?
All he received from his initial plunge into the ideas of the book was questions and confusion, and no answers. After all, many military leaders spent their whole lives studying the ancient manual, and still did not understand its tenants (not that Harry knew that). Still confused, Harry continued to read.
Heaven encompasses Yin and Yang, cold and heat, and the constraints of the seasons.
I understand that. A general must keep in mind the weather when it comes to battle. That makes more sense than whatever the hell Tao is...
Earth encompasses far or near, difficult or easy, expansive or confined, fatal or tenable terrain.
That makes sense too. When it comes to battle, I should always choose the terrain best suited to give me an advantage...Like how I choose the air as my terrain against the Horntail during the First task! It gave me the advantage I needed to get the egg...
Slowly, the cogs began to turn. The wheel that was Harry Potter's mind was beginning ever so slowly spin, awakened from its self-induced slumber during the days when good grades earned him a beating from his uncle. More and more Harry began to see how these initial principles applied to his daily life, mostly in regards to Quidditch (which the closest thing to battle he had).
When it was raining so hard that I couldn't see in third year, I should have applied the principles of this...'Heaven', and waited for a more advantageous weather to get the snitch...
The General encompasses wisdom, credibility, benevolence, courage, and strictness.
The laws for military organization and discipline encompass organization and regulations, the Tao of command, and the management of logistics.
Harry pondered what he had read for almost an hour. Re-reading those initial passages over and over again, looking for the connection in the war against Voldemort that he could use. Seeking understanding of the wisdom hidden within ancient, confusing Chinese proverbs. Finally, after two hours of comparing his experiences to the books words, Harry finally understood what he had to do. He understood Tao, Heaven, Earth, General, and the laws.
Tao is leadership, and the people's loyalty or fear. The reason why Dumbledore and Voldemort and Fudge have power is because they utilize the Tao that they have. Dumbledore through his position as headmaster of the school, Voldemort through promises of power and fear, and Fudge through money and political support.
In order to be strong enough to fight Voldemort on my own, I need to establish my own Tao. I need to gain loyalty, to find followers through money, influence, or fear. I need to become a true leader.
Heaven is the events around me, whether weather or even political events. I have been blind to the Wizarding world so long that I don't truly know how it works, which gives everyone else an advantage over me, just like I gained advantage over that Horntail. In order to fight Voldemort, I need to watch everything around me. I need to be prepared.
Earth is the literal terrain. Or the metaphysical one, depending. I need to learn to utilize Earth by picking the most beneficial battle grounds for me to fight Voldemort. The grave yard at his mansion was not a good place for me to fight, although I did not have a choice, which was the problem.
As a General, I must become smart enough to understand the five principles, and to be able to lead my friends and allies into battle with wisdom. I need to be a true leader, and not just a foolish child rushing ahead without considering the battlefield. I need to begin looking ahead, and all around instead of going blind.
Finally, I must unite all these principles into one cohesive way of management of an army or political machine or whatever. Maybe even a quidditch team.
It was a throughly exhausted Harry Potter that left the darkening library to return to Privet drive, a copy of Sun Tzu's Art of War tucked under his arm. It would be a new day tomorrow for him, the lessons the book imparted swirling around in his head.
In his mind's eye, a plan began to develop. To use this summer to mold himself into a warrior, a sword to cut down Voldemort in revenge. A smile was on Harry's face as he fell asleep that night, the Art of War clutched to his chest. Visions of battle, and of Voldemort crushed beneath his feet let him drift off into sleep without thoughts of Cedric even once entering his head.