Chapter Two: I can't even start...
The art of war is of vital importance to the state. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. The art of war, then , is governed by five constant factors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when seeking to determine the conditions obtaining the field.
They are. 1. The Moral Law, 2. Heaven, 3. Earth, 4. The Commander, 5. Method and Discipline.
Moral Law causes people to be in complete accord with their ruler, so that they will follow him regardless of their lives, undismayed by any danger.
Heaven signifies night and day, cold and heat, time and seasons.
Earth comprises distances, great and small, danger and security, open ground and narrow passages, the chances of life and death
The Commander stands for the virtues of wisdom, sincerely, benevolence, courage and strictness.
Method and Discipline are to be understood the marshaling of an army in it's proper subdivisions, the graduations of rank among officers, the maintenance of roads by which supplies and news reach the army.
~ The Art of War, by Sun Tzu
He continued reading, staring at the pages as he let the thoughts drift through his head. He skimmed a bit, and paused, staring at something. His mind shrunk from the idea, and then he stared, eyes watering.
A single quote rose from the depths, to stare at him in the face.
"All Warfare is based on Deception."
Biting his bottom lip, he stared at the part of the page that said Commander. He had been the Commander in the Department of Mysteries, and according to what this said, he did not follow what was needed. No wonder they had gotten hurt.
He expelled a breath, staring at the page. Strictness. Wisdom, Sincerity, Benevolence, Courage. He looked at his trunk as the words percolated in his brain, and then once there, started digging out books, and then the other books, and then again, more books. Guilt drove him, curled in his stomach until he was queasy with it. He shook his head, that road, was going nowhere.
"I need to learn these things. I can't suffer being a half-lazy bastard anymore. Not if I'm going to be a serious part of this war..." his head rose, his jaw tightened, and fire if one had seen it, fire lit his eyes. Need crawled in his belly. He needed to know. Knowledge, that had become precious, but beyond that, also Wisdom.
He flipped to the next page, and froze at the end of the chapter, his eyes blank, taking in the old, dusty scrawl. His fingers raced to the front of the book, his fingers traced across the letters, then back again. The same handwriting. His grandfather's handwriting. He drew in a breath, reading it first once, then twice, aloud. The truth of it, it struck through him, and he took it in, inhaled the old paper, the scent of it, the wisdom that surrounded it.
"You cannot fight a war, unless you know what you are fighting for" -C.E
He would become what he was born to be. What his Grandfather had read upon, once upon a time, there was something about the book that resonated through him. He knew, as deep as his own soul, that it was correct. He organized his books according to subject, then staring at them, then glanced towards a pile of parchment, quickly he started to write the topics that he was missing. Soon enough, a pile of over 40 topics stared at him, and he swallowed, but nodded his head. He penned the letter to Diagon Alley quickly. Before he could change his mind, adding the imprint of his key, as he had been shown by Neville, on how to order things for the purchase.
Then he turned to the pile, and with a trepidious hand, reached for the first book. A whisper escaping him.
"I know what I'm fighting for Grandfather..but I need to do this right, or not at all. I can't let my laziness cost anymore lives. I can't afford to lose anymore family. I never had much to begin with...I can't watch my friends, my family..those I care about, the children at Hogwarts, that have never hurt, never went hungry, never seen the dark. They shouldn't. Someone has to stand for them Grandpa.."
"Nobody ever saved me. I wanted them too. I wanted it more than anything in my whole life. I craved it. I wanted to be the person that I looked up for. I saw one, once, with Aunt Tunie', there was a young military officer, in the store she dragged me in to carry bags. So straight, even. Everything..that was right, somehow. It fit. He stood for something. I stand for something too." his head bowed, as he opened his charms book, and started reading. A muggle notebook that he had stolen from Dudley moving across his lap.
"No knowledge is wasted.."