AN: As this is the first thing I have uploaded to this site, I am still working out formatting and the actual process, along with the usual spellcheck and grammar inherent in writing.

This is actually a fic I did for a friend and her series (one she has been working on for several years) centered on a group of gifted teenagers and their exploits. As a side project, I did an AU set in the HP universe for her, resulting in this here story. Changes to HP canon (nothing major, just the whole epilogue and the whole RonxHermione is out the window).

Thanks to LGreyMark for the sorcery mechanic, if you like this and/or want a bit of romance, his Deception series is a seriously good way to kill a few hours. I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I claim any rights to any of LGreyMark's work. Thanks to my friend (not sure if she wants to be named…) for the characters.

As promised, here is a better summary of the story:

Advent of the New Blood War is the tale of ex-MANZAC Alyx St. Nemo, an Australian travelling the world in an effort to track down the Dark Lord/demonic creature that killed whole wizarding communities. While living and working in Britain, the Minister of Magic, Hermione (*gasp*), and her husband Harry (*double gasp*) catch wind of dark wizards gathering to finish what old Voldy started. Fearing a new war coming, St Nemo is made the new DADA teacher so as to prepare students for potential threats. Along the way she meets a group of students, and takes an interest.

Prologue

A curse, uttered in anger.

Inhale.

Green light flashes, and my body barely reacts in time to dodge it. I smash through a cheap wooden coffee table.

Exhale.

My wand moves of its own accord, shapeless, invisible sorceries flying from it toward this cloaked wizard I don't know.

The blankets were too tight, and my hand tugged at them unbidden.

He blocks the first one on a Protego shield spell. He must have been strong magically to block a fully powered jabbing sorcel with such a low tier defense, but the next one shatters it. Along with his ribcage.

I rolled onto my side, breathing in deeply again, half-aware of my actions during one of my many nightmare memories. Though, it's hard to tell the difference between the two anymore.

And yet, this black robed man stands. Splinters of bone pierce his skin, but he isn't done. Struggling with the effort, he flicks his wand at my colleague, my partner. "Jon!" I scream as the man I had spent years with, my friend and partner, ruptures like an overripe fruit.

I kicked. I can never figure out why I kick during nightmares.

I hurl another sorcel at the wizard. Sharper than any razor, harder than a diamond and faster than any jet plane, my cutter flies through the air at him, the incredible amount of magic I put into the attack burning as the sorcel moves.

I breathed harder, faster, like I was running a sixty kilometer marathon.

With a wet crunching sound, the burning blade of pure magic cuts through this foe in front of me, this aspiring Dark Lord. What one could call his remains splatter to the floor unceremoniously. But as his torso drops, his hood falls. And I see for the first time the face of the man - more accurate to call him a boy, he can't be more than sixteen - I just killed. I see the light leave his eyes.

Finally, the dream receded rapidly and allowed me to sit bolt upright, gasping for air. But the sight of that young boy's dimming eyes stayed with me, as it always did. And as it had hundreds of times before, after each nightmare, the sight slowly faded to the darkness of my bedroom.

I swung my legs out of the bed, placing my feet on the floor and checking my wristwatch in the moonlight shining through my window.

"One in the morning," I said dumbly to myself, as was my habit. "Still a bit early to get ready for work."

For a brief moment I longed for my homeland, the Great Southern Land with one of the oldest magical cultures in the world, where kangaroos and other strange wildlife roam free, where I lived before I began to wake up to these nightmares. For a moment I missed Australia, and my comfortable Brisbane home, where it is always warmer than Great Britain.

That moment was interrupted by a wispy Patronus, a swan, coming through my window. It spotted me. Bugger.

"Ah, Alyx, sorry if I woke you. Extremely urgent business with the Minister and with the Hogwarts Headmaster. Can't say more. Meeting's in about two hours in your office. Don't be late." The excited voice of Minister Granger's assistant rang from it, all bubbly despite what I knew would be grave news. For what must have been the millionth time, I wondered why Hermione Granger never changed her surname after not one, but two marriages. So, for what must be the million and first time, I resolved to ask her even though, as with the previous million times, I would probably forget.

I shooed the wispy swan out the window when it didn't leave on its own, and thanked the gods for the first time in my life for the British climate. I usually sweated during nightmares, and the brisk night air stalled that for once. Still needed a damn shower though.

I hopped into the shower and turned the taps. The water was hot, like the sand on the beaches at home on a summer day... I was getting homesick again. I finished up in the shower after about a minute - habit from my drought-stricken homeland, where it doesn't fucking rain constantly - and dried up, avoiding as always the makeup I had worn only once in my life. I walked into my room once more to open my closet, not caring when my towel fell off, and pulled out my outfit for the day. My usual dark brown leather trench coat, a pair of bootleg jeans, and a purple blouse I set aside on my bed as I tied my dark green hair up in a high ponytail and put on my underwear.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my wand - pale, tough ironbark with a Rainbow Serpent (Northern Territory Basilisk) heartstring and one of my own as its core - and slipped it into the holster up my left coat sleeve. As an afterthought, I grabbed my Bowie knife and my enchanted gun, putting them into their respective compartments in my trench coat. A MANZAC must always be prepared - or, as the Auror Mad-eye Moody repeatedly told my instructors over two decades ago, "Constant vigilance!".

I put on my boots, and looked into the mirror for a second. My own amethyst eyes stared back at me, above the dark bags from lack of sleep. I cleared them with a wandless charm, then Apparated to my office at the Ministry.

Apparently, however, I was fashionably late. Minister Hermione Granger, her husband Head Auror Harry Potter, Hogwarts Headmaster Neville Longbottom (that one shocked all, apparently) and Minister Granger's assistant slash Auror Cadet Nymeria Weasley (the daughter of Bill and Fleur, whom I had met and were rather nice) were all in my office.

"Captain St Nemo, you're early," the Minister began. "Neville, this is Alyx St Nemo, of the MANZACs. For the last three years she has travelled the world assisting various Ministries with Dark threats and with training their law enforcement in skills formerly unique to our Australian counterparts. She has been with us here in Britain for about ten weeks now, investigating leads towards a Dark Lord she helped put into hiding five years ago."

That was funny. I had been labouring under the misconception that I had been in my new house having nightmares, watching movies in the nude and only going to work because I had to. Now apparently I had been doing shit.

Neville shook my hand. "That sounds interesting. I would invite you to dinner, but my wife and daughter would interrogate you. Though if my part in this conversation goes well, we could be working together soon, so a chat over dinner could be fairly easy."

I smiled at him. "Pleasure is mine. Though I feel at an advantage; your Minister has told me a great deal about your own, your wife's and her husband's exploits during the Second British Blood War."

Hermione paled and the Headmaster and I shared a laugh at her expense. I liked this Neville bloke.

"I'm afraid we don't have time for a meet and greet," the Head Auror and Chosen One spoke up. "I had hoped to meet you under better circumstances, Captain, my wife has told me much about you. However, there are more pressing matters at hand. Perhaps Neville would like to share the first tidbit with you before we continue."

"Right, Harry. Now, despite the fact that Voldemort has died, there is still a curse on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. Granted, it's less severe and the time has been lengthened from every year to every five, but it is still very annoying. However," Neville paused and his eyes glittered at me, "I hear you are an expert Cursebreaker. Not only that, but you are a MANZAC officer at only twenty seven, and a half blood raised in Muggle society - without magic, or so I am told - to boot. You seem uniquely qualified for that position."

I thought it over. Kids could be shitty, but I taught Auror cadets on a regular basis. And as much as I hated it, Britain was the capital of the Magical world. I would be a good influence on the next generation of magical leaders - and I would even teach the children of the Golden Couple, the Wonder Witch and the Boy Who Lived. That'd be one to tell the gra- let's be honest here, the side I swing for would not be likely to bear a child of my own with me. Surrogacy!

I abruptly stopped thinking as I felt my train of thought derail and explode. "I accept, Headmaster. But there must be other news." I glanced over at the Minister and Head Auror.

"Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me," Hermione said dryly. "Two hours ago a team of Aurors looking into the disappearance of some Muggles in connection to the Last Death Eater were attacked. Most of the squad was killed almost instantly, and the pair that survived were discovered quite quickly. The last thing they did was send a Patronus to the ministry with a message. It contained a hastily put together memory of the attack, and the word "Hogwarts". Likely they walked into the middle of a meeting between our guy and yours."

"So the Dark Lords are finally assembling to finish what Voldemort started," Harry turned to me, looking defeated. "All these years... all that shit we did, that we went through, to stop him has been for nothing." He looked at his wife. "Years of campaigning for the betterment of Muggleborns and other so-called 'lesser' humans is being tested by purebloods. Again."

"You want Neville and I to arm students this time around, don't you?" I asked Potter.

"Last time we were unprepared. But this time... We have you."

...