I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.

Note: Thank you for joining my next story adventure. I wanted to say that I am not an expert on anything military and this is my attempt at making what I think could exist in the setting. I do not know how long this story will last but have a fair bit of it storyboarded out and like my other projects, have a few chapters completed already. I intend on posting once a week if not more depending on how many chapters I have done. Thank you for reading and have a lovely day!

Typically words in italics between quotation marks are either spells being cast or are people speaking a language that isn't English.

Defiance of Fate

Chapter 1 – A New War

The explosion created a cloud of dust and sand, filling the air with chunks of debris. The force of the explosion threw a person back, forcing others to dive away from the point of origin. Lances of spell light pierced the cloud, seeking targets flushed out or incapacitated by the explosion.

"Protego!" A shimmering barrier blocked the majority of the incoming spells though a few found their way around it. A blonde woman flourished her wand and reinforced the shield charm, gritting her teeth against the magical onslaught. "Beaumont!" she cried out. "Wall in front of me! Allard! The wounded!"

A dark-skinned man rose from his cover and traced a sign with his wand. A large wall of stone erupted from the earth, curving around them and providing physical cover. The woman hastily cast a few charms into the wall to strengthen it before dropping her shield charm. "Allard!"

"He's down," Dylan Beaumont said. He flicked his wand and the ones who were knocked prone by the blast or by other spells flew through the air to him. Once gathered, he conjured another wall to go around the cluster of individuals that gathered around him and the woman.

"Fuck," Sophie Chevalier swore. She hastily checked for pulses from the downed individuals. "I think they're okay but we won't be if we're stuck here. Pierre! Dubois! Flank and provide covering fire!"

Two wizards nodded and applied disillusion charms to themselves. They ran, their forms blurred to look like their surroundings. Dodging out from behind the first wall, they scurried to an outcrop of boulders a small distance away. Identifying the source of incoming spells, they retaliated and the initial wall stopped shaking.

Sophie took a deep breath, assessing the situation. Her scout squad of nine had gotten ambushed. Three were down, including the one with the most medical expertise. They were caught in the open, though the conjured walls were keeping them safe for the moment. Pierre and Dubois were keeping their heads down but that would not last long.

She dug out Allard's pouch and opened it, rifling through the bandages and potions. Assisted by another in the squad, they did their best to stabilize their squad mates. She pulled a tiny mirror tied to a string out of a pocket on her chest. "Dubois, what do you see?"

"Looks like one of their response squads." Dubois' voice came through the small mirror. "They have the height advantage but Pierre just blew up their vantage point and got at least one of them. Make that two. Don't know if there are more of them. Do we engage?"

"No, keep their heads down. We came out to find an enemy presence and we found it. We're pulling out, wounded first. Keep us covered until I tell you to fall back."

"Heard."

Sophie turned to look at the rest of her squad. "Right, let's go. Durant, you and Blanc start back. Take the wounded with you. Beaumont and I will hold until you are far enough away, then we support Dubois and Pierre. Go!"

Blanc and Durant nodded and they started back down the way they came, levitating a person each. They walked swiftly and carefully, ignoring the spells that hammered the wall behind them. Sophie and Dylan ran to the first wall and Dylan formed a small window into it. Sophie peeked through and aimed. She shot a spear of fire through the hole and watched it strike a running form.

"Good shot Sergeant," Dubois said. "They're running."

"Fall back to a new vantage point and keep their heads down," she said. Dylan carved chunks out of the edges of their wall and she banished them at the enemy position.

"Sergeant, the wounded are out," Dylan said.

"We're in the new position," Dubois said through the mirror.

"Let's get out of here," Sophie said and Dylan grunted in agreement. They turned and started to run.

"GET DOWN!" Dubois shouted.

Sophie spun and cast a shield charm but the resulting explosion that shattered the wall they just left overwhelmed it. The force knocked her back into the air, sending her colliding into Dylan. They rolled down the rocky ground, slowly sliding to a stop against an outcrop. Ignoring his pain, Dylan scrambled around it, pulling her after him.

"What was that?!" Dylan shouted into his own small mirror.

"Combined bombardment curses! They regrouped and focused on a single point. We're trying to keep their heads down. Are you okay?"

"Sergeant's down," Dylan cursed. "Fuck that's a lot of blood."

"Don't shoot! Friendly!"

Dylan aimed his wand down the hillside. "I heard someone claiming to be a friendly, behind us down the way we came. South."

"I see someone in cover. Looks like they have a medic's armband on. Ask for security words," Dubois said.

A hand waved from some brush. "Friendly!"

"Identify!" Dylan yelled. "Siren!"

"Song!" the unknown person yelled back.

"Friendly," Dylan confirmed with a relieved sigh into the mirror. "Approach!"

A form rose from the bush and ran towards him, low to the ground. The man was dressed in battle robes and he did have an arm band with the crossed wands and bone that most medics wore as identification. He wore fitted glasses and a dark green bandanna was tied over his head. He threw himself against the outcrop. "Those people down there part of your squad?" he asked. "I have them stabilized, no fatalities."

Dylan sighed with relief. "Thank you. This is my Sergeant; we were caught in a bombardment curse while extracting. Hit by force and rock."

The medic flicked his wand at her, wordlessly casting a diagnostic charm. "Tell your support that an ICW squad is coming up the east side. They were in the side zone and heard fire coming from here. I heard them report to command and came with to lend aid."

Dylan relayed the information and he looked down at Sophie worriedly. "Will she be okay?"

"Head injuries always bleed like crazy but her skull is intact. Will probably have a wicked headache." He siphoned the blood away and healed the wound shut. "She was knocked unconscious but no internal bleeding. Some fractured bones but nothing fully broken. She was lucky."

"I think she cast a shield charm between us and the exploding wall."

"Probably what saved her and you." He spared a look at the shattered wall. He incanted softly and Sophie groaned as her bones healed. "Right, she's stable." He turned his wand on Dylan.

"I am fine," Dylan protested.

"For the most part," the Medic agreed. "We're probably going to have to run fast so you need to be in top shape." He flicked his wand a few times and Dylan sighed with relief, feeling aches and pain disappear. "Right, let's get going."

"Are we clear?" Dylan asked through the mirror.

"Clear and the ICW squad is engaging the enemy. Orders?"

"Stay and provide long distance support, extract when able. We're heading back with the wounded."

"As ordered."

The medic levitated Sophie into the air and at Dylan's nod, ran down the slope with him. "French?" he asked.

"Yes. The whole squad is, we came over as a team from France."

"That's nice," the medic said as they hurried. "It's good to have familiar faces in a new place." He smiled wistfully. "A good friend of mine is French. Always did try to get me to speak the language better."

Blanc sighed with relief when she saw the medic arrive with Dylan and Sophie in tow. "ICW medics came and left with Allard, Planchet, and De Mayne. Durant went with them."

"Luckily we're not too far from base," the medic said.

Sophie groaned again and her eyes flickered. "Where? My squad…"

"We're getting out," Dylan said to her. "The others went ahead, you're wounded. Saved by an ICW medic."

She looked up at the medic. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Happy to help. Hang tight, we're getting you out," he said. He waved his wand over her.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was seeing emerald green eyes full of care.

-0-

Sophie woke, wincing as she tried to sit up.

"Lie down," Dylan chided her, pushing her back. "You're in our recovery tent."

"How is everyone?" she asked as she fell back.

"Everyone is fine. Planchet will need more time to heal, lots of broken bones. De Mayne and Allard are healing well. Your shield kept the worst of the follow up spells at bay. You also protected us from the last bombardment. I'd be more upset at you if you didn't save me too."

"Well I had to or else my sister will be very upset with me." She tried to sit back up and eventually succeeded with Dylan's help. "What about me?"

"As if there is any rock harder than your head," he snorted. "You had your fair share of bruises and fractured bones. Cut head wound but you were healed as well. The medic kept you asleep to help speed your healing."

She remembered the deep green eyes. "Who was he? He really came out for us?"

"Attached himself to the support squad and helped stabilize the others before you. He's good. As good as any healer I've seen at home. Fast and to the point."

"Did you catch a name?"

"No. I was too worried about you and the others." He rolled his eyes at her. "What would your poor husband at home say?"

"He would say I should thank him," Sophie growled and poked Dylan. "And he seems very familiar for some reason."

"Well, if he's an ICW medic, it should not be hard to find his identity. Captain Sauveterre is putting you on recovery."

Sophie grumbled but accepted the information. "At least I'll have something to do to fill the time then."

-0-

Sophie was feeling irritated. After the mission debriefing, she had been put on recovery. The commander of the French forces for the International Confederation of Wizards had nothing but praise for her, citing that she reacted well to the ambush and brought everyone back which was the important thing. They did complete their objective anyways, finding that the enemy did in fact have an armed presence in the sector.

After making sure the rest of her squad was doing well, she wandered about the hospital tents, looking for the mysterious medic. None of the ICW healers or medi-magicals seemed to know who she was talking about, though admittedly, male with green eyes was not a lot of description to go off of. She had left the main ICW medical tent and wandered to one of the smaller hospital tents to ask around.

"Oh wait, I think I know who you're talking about," a healer said.

"Really?"

"He's not an ICW medic or healer technically. If it's who I think it is, he's a volunteer from England. That's why none of the ICW regulars knew who you were talking about. Check the UK tents."

Sophie thanked the Healer and left, eyes searching for their flags. She approached the tents that bore the Union Jack, hoping to see him walking about. She found the tent with the Healer's symbol on it and slipped inside.

"Hi there, how can I help you?" a witch greeted.

"I am looking for a medic," Sophie said. "He came out and helped me and my squad the other day."

"Hmm, none of our medics saw action recently," the witch frowned.

"He has green eyes," Sophie said.

The witch blinked. "Oh. That's one of our healers. You know, I heard he ran off to join a squad briefly the other day. Let me go get him." She rose and walked out the back of the tent. After a few minutes she returned and beckoned Sophie to follow. "He's brewing some potions and can't leave but said you could come in." She led Sophie to a small tent alongside the main one.

Sophie nodded in thanks and stepped within. "I am sorry to bother you," she said as she looked around. It was small but laid out well. Jars of ingredients sat on long racks facing shelves of vials. Several cauldrons bubbled and burbled over low flames and a man stood in front of them, adding ingredients to them in order and stirring them gently with flicks of his wand directing the ladles and stir rods.

"Oh no bother. I'm just finishing these blood replenishing potions. Didn't want them to go to waste and couldn't step aside." He nodded with satisfaction at a sample he poured out and held to a lamp. "There. Done." He moved the cauldrons off the heat and set about pouring the potions into vials. He looked at her finally, his eyes flickering with recognition. "How're you feeling?"

"Well, thank you," Sophie replied. She looked at him closely. He was average in height and build and moved with an athletic grace. He wore curved glasses and the bandanna he had wrapped around his head that day was tied loosely around his neck. His hair was short and black and terribly messy. His eyes were as green as she remembered. "You look awfully familiar. Have we met before by chance?"

"I don't think so. Something about you seems familiar too but I honestly don't think we've met." He shook his head slightly and then his eyes widened. "I don't mean to be rude, but do you have Veela in your family?"

She stiffened slightly and her eyes narrowed. "Yes," she said shortly. "Is that a problem?" She was wholly unprepared for his easy smile.

"No, not at all. That's why you feel familiar. Your allure is very faint, but there."

"I never had a very strong one," she said with wonder. "I'm surprised you can recognize it at all. It's so weak that most don't." Her eyes widened when she saw something just barely visible through his hair. "You are Harry Potter!"

He winced, his smile fading ever so slightly. "Yeah, that's me." He pulled on his hair that hung over his forehead.

"Oh no! I'm sorry, that's not just how I recognize you." She tried to smile in a friendly way. "Believe it or not, I've seen pictures of you and have heard stories of you. And not from books."

He looked at her carefully before his smile returned in full. "Are you related to the Delacours?"

Sophie clapped her hands in delight. "Yes! Apolline Delacour is my aunt, my mother's sister!"

"Wow, small world," he said. "What're the odds we meet, especially a really long way from both Britain and France." He extended his hand. "Nice to properly meet you. Harry Potter, as you've guessed."

"Sophie Chevalier." She shook his hand happily. "Thank you, for treating me and my squad. I owe you a debt."

He waved his hand. "We're in this together, no need for that. Especially since you're family with the Delacours."

"Then you know how stubborn we are," she replied smiling.

He laughed. "Good point. Did they really have pictures of me?"

"A few. Gabrielle is still very fond of you. As are her parents and Fleur of course."

Harry shook his head, a wry smile and pink cheeks apparent. "They're good people, very kind. Do you see them often?"

"As often as I can. Less of Fleur of course since she moved to England. We exchange letters and Floo-call when possible." She frowned slightly, trying to remember something. "You are a healer then?"

"That's right."

"Not many healers willingly volunteer for an active warzone. Not to mention running into an engagement."

He shrugged. "I'm used to dangerous situations."

She winced. "I am sure you are, my apologies."

"It's okay. It's actually refreshing when I meet people that don't know everything about me. Though you probably know a fair bit."

"Only what Gabrielle and Fleur have shared."

"Then you've only heard positive lies."

She laughed. "Gabi does praise you a lot. She still has a crush on you."

"She's sweet," he chuckled softly.

"How many of your countrymen came with you if I may ask?"

"We're being sent in waves. All volunteers. The first wave is to set things up and we went through an accelerated training course. Most of us were Aurors or other specialties like Medi-magicals or Healers. A little more than fifty or so. I heard the next group will be here in a few more weeks after they get more training, maybe twice as much as us now. Definitely one of the smaller groups compared to others."

"Being all volunteers means something at least."

Harry's face twisted, a flicker of something that came and went swiftly. "Yeah that's true," he said evenly. "I know France sent a big delegation for the joint operation, but they always do."

Sophie smiled proudly. "France is a big member country and always sends her best. Clearly yours sent their best too."

He chuckled. "All of the ladies of your family are far too kind."

Her small mirror buzzed in her pocket and she sighed. "Unfortunately, I must cut my visit short. I am being summoned back. I am glad to have found you so I could thank you for me and my squad. I would very much like to visit with you again."

"I'd like that. It's always nice to meet someone nice, especially out here."

As Sophie left, she thought back on the stories she heard about him from the Delacours. He was as kind as they said he was. Humble as well. But there was something in him that did not match the image she had developed in her head. Something different.

She supposed she would find out what in time.

-0-

"So I found out the identity of our mystery medic," Sophie said as she sat down to join her squad in their meal area. "He's a full healer and it's Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived?" Dylan's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Really?"

"Really. I actually heard a few stories about him from my cousins and aunt and uncle. He is as kind as they say."

"I can believe it," Phillipe Dubois said. "Isn't he used to dangerous situations?"

"Surprising that his country would send him," Leena Blanc mused.

A deep snort interrupted their conversation and they turned to look at a man with a disbelieving expression on his face.

"What is it, Boucher?" Sophie asked.

"I hope it isn't Harry Potter," Tomas Boucher said. "Then again, I wouldn't know why anyone would impersonate him."

"Why not?" Dylan asked.

"I would not fight alongside the Coward of England."

Conversation died and everyone turned to watch and listen in on the conversation.

Phillipe frowned. "Why do you call him a coward? I saw him run into an active engagement without anyone supporting him directly. Granted we were there but he still ran in willingly."

"Because he is a pacifist," Tomas said. "He will not cast any harmful or attack spells on a person. For any reason. That is what his own people call him by the way, I did not come up with it. I merely repeated the title."

"Surely not," Dylan exclaimed. "He stopped their Dark Lord."

"They say he stopped him," Tomas retorted. "I spoke with British Aurors and many said that he refused to fight directly. That is why their second civil war was so bad. If he actually did what he should have then it would have ended sooner. If he is a pacifist like they say, then he was not responsible for their Dark Lord's downfall."

"Wasn't he a child for most of their second civil war?" Leena asked. "That's not fair to say of him if he was."

"The point is, he was the one that was supposed to stop their Dark Lord and by the time he did, the casualties were high, their society in shambles." Tomas shook his head. "If you cannot trust him to fight for himself, then he won't fight for you. War is no place for cowards. Here, they get you killed as well as themselves."

"He volunteered to be here," Sophie said quietly. "If he is a coward like you say he is, why would he do that?"

"Perhaps he was forced to and they say he volunteered? That would be a neat way for his government to get rid of their shame." Tomas shrugged. "Too bad it might get others killed."

"Whatever your Auror friends said he did, I saw what he did today," Phillipe growled. "He ran in and helped save Sophie and stabilized Allard, Planchet, and De Mayne. That is not something a coward would do."

"Alright fair," Tomas conceded. "But if you can't trust the soldier beside you to fight for you, much less themselves, then what good are they? Ineffectual at best, dangerous at worst. Out here, dying because of someone else is easy."

"There are other ways of fighting," someone else said. "He is a healer? At least he helps keep people alive."

"I rather be unhurt and not need healing, than be injured and have to recover," another said.

The rest of the people eating began to chat once more, conversations going over the revelation.

"Is what he says true?" Dylan asked Sophie. "From what you remember?"

"I think so, it does sound familiar that he does not cast harmful spells. I can't say for sure however, my family did not focus on that part so much." Sophie looked off into the distance.

"He's not wrong," Leena said hesitantly. "This is a war. If you don't fight in a war, you won't last long."

"Then why did he volunteer to be a part of a war?" Dylan asked the question that everyone wanted answered.

-0-

Harry walked into the UK command tent and stood at attention. "Reporting in."

Emmaline Vance and John Dawlish turned to him. "So, guess you're willing to run into battle after all," Dawlish said without preamble.

Harry looked straight ahead, focusing on a spot between them. "If this is in regards to the action, yes Sir. I was at the ICW hospital tents when they reported enemy contact. I went in to assist."

"You had no orders to join them," Dawlish said angrily.

"Begging your pardon Sir, I had no orders saying not to either. I had no pressing assignments at the time and thought I could lend assistance."

"You are to report to me before you do anything, am I clear?"

Harry met his eyes. "Begging your pardon again, sir, I don't have to do that at all. It is not part of my standing agreement between me and the Minister."

Dawlish's face went red. "Have you noticed that the Minister isn't here?"

Vance sighed. "Enough. See, this is why you don't have overall command of the UK forces." She ignored Dawlish's angry look. "You know full well that you and I have joint command and that Healer Potter has different circumstances."

"I still don't agree with that," he snarled. "How are we supposed to coordinate things if he gets to do whatever he wants? It'll be like how things went back home all over again, only this time, on an international stage."

"Well that's just too bad," Vance said. "You're more than welcome to take a few portkeys back home and discuss it with the Minister if you like."

Dawlish spat. "Fine. Just know I'll be there saying 'I told you so' when things turn to shite again." He looked at Harry. "Let's see how many people you get killed this time." He stormed out, bumping Harry's shoulder with his own.

"Sorry about that," Vance said sheepishly after the other man left.

Harry shrugged. "Not your fault that Dawlish hates me."

"I hoped that he would remain professional, especially given that we're far from home, but guess that was a fool's hope." She sighed and rubbed her face. "That being said, I'd appreciate a heads up when you go off to help or involve yourself in any action. A message or a mirror call or something. I care about your safety."

He smiled softly. "Thanks and yes Ma'am, I'll do that."

She snorted. "I thought I told you to stop that "ma'am" nonsense years ago."

"Well we are a military-esque force right? Should show some form of respect to my commanding officer. I can't show Dawlish minimal respect and you none, since I actually do respect you."

She smiled. "You're slightly outside the normal chain of command."

"Only when it serves," he said with a mischievous smirk.

She shuddered. "Don't smile like that. Reminds me of Sirius."

"Oh right, you two dated."

"Don't remind me of that either," she shuddered again, this time theatrically. "It wasn't all bad though to be fair."

"Not that you'll ever say that to his face."

She laughed. "Nope, making him feel guilty is still one of my greatest pleasures." She sobered a little. "How've you been otherwise? Others treating you okay?"

He shrugged again. "Been okay. Keeping busy mostly, setting up the medical tent and the potions tent besides yesterday's action. Finished a big batch of blood replenishers, thinking of sharing them about tomorrow. The others are pretty much like at home. They either hate me, treat me okay, or have only heard stories about me."

She looked sad for a moment. "Sorry Harry."

He shook his head. "Not your fault either. I'm just here to do my part."

"I know. If you need to talk, come find me."

"Will do."

"Oh, we got some post. Here you go." She handed him a few envelopes. She sighed at the smile that appeared on his face. "Hopefully you get some good news or something."

"Hopefully, thanks." He stood at attention until she dismissed him with a snort. He left the tent, looking at the envelopes in his hand with interest. The name on one of them caught his eye and he had already started opening it by the time he reached his personal tent.

It was small, one of the few single person tents in the area. Half of it had medical things and gears arrayed on racks and stands. A small cot was at the back and a stool and a camp table took up the rest of the space. He lit the lantern on the table with a touch and sat on the stool, taking out the letter.

Dear Harry,

I'm back now. I wish I had come back sooner. I am writing this as soon as I found out and I'm rather cross at you and everyone and everything right now. I don't like it. It doesn't feel good. I can't imagine how some people feel like this all the time, much less enjoy feeling like this.

If someone likes feeling cross, are they actually cross?

Never mind, we can have that discussion when you return and you better return. We will also discuss why you didn't tell me what happened. I know I was away and could not be reached and it's very unreasonable for me to be upset over that but I think I have reason to be upset.

Things went well overall. I managed to visit every place on the list and left what was needed at each one. It was nice and lovely. Unfortunately, I was delayed at times which is why it took me so long to return. I should have been back before you left.

Maybe I could have done something about it. Most likely not, but I would like to think I could have.

I'm going to write you often and you better write me often. And come back home Harry. Promise me. You have never broken a promise and I know you don't make promises that you can't keep, but please, promise me Harry.

Luna

Harry looked off into the distance. "I'll try Luna," he whispered to no one. "I'll try my best." He looked down at the letter again and saw that the bottom was folded. He unfolded it and snorted softly.

P.S. You probably said that you'll try your best and to me that's a promise. I'll hold you to it.

He sighed softly and tucked the letter into his inner chest pocket before he started opening the rest.