Gods and Generals
Chapter 1: April 1st 2005
Harry Potter rode quickly through the deserted town of Hogshead leading the Army of the Thames forward. The army consisted of 150,000 men strong. Strong, but not quite strong enough. Voldemort's Army of Purebloods had 500,000 men. Harry was being beaten back on every front. His last battle had been one of the bloodiest ever. Voldemort was closing on London and Harry had to stop him. If Britain fell the United States would lose her last and greatest ally and would have to fight on against Iraq and North Korea alone. Plus his wife and long time friend Hermione was there with their new baby James. He couldn't let Voldemort hurt either one of them. Harry knew there was a portkey near this town. He also knew it would get him to London before Voldemort. Voldemort was still north somewhere. He saw it in the grass, a book titled Gods and Generals. He thought it an impressive title but he didn't know or care what it was about. This portkey was for him and his staff and the other generals. There was a much larger one ahead for his troops. He ordered his men to gather around the book. But before they could touch it a cannon blast rocked them back. They all placed their hands on their hands and slammed down into the dirt. Oliver Wood looked over his shoulder and looked at the banner flying over the troops. "It's Malfoy," he snarled to Harry. Harry nodded his head and jumped up. "ATTACK,"he shouted to his men. The men quickly charged Draco Malfoy who had doubt been sent by his father to scout the area. Harry shook his head. It could have been worse, he thought. Malfoy wasn't good at Quidditch and he wasn't good at leading an army. He just attacked head on with seeking out the strength of his opponent. Harry already held the high ground and had the superior numbers for a change. Malfoy probably had less than 1,000 men down in that valley. Harry hoped, prayed that the battle wouldn't last to long. He had to get to London before Voldemort or die trying. Spells from the wizards and bullets from terrorist supporters wizzed by his head. Which might happen soon if you don't get out of the open, you idiot. He quickly turned around, scanning eveywhere for good cover.He saw a clump of trees and ran toward them. He heard a grunt behind him and spun around. Oliver Wood lay on the ground blood streaming from a wound in his side. Harry ran to Oliver, but it was to late. "Damn!" Harry shouted. He suddenly rembered there were bullets flying all over and more men falling. He got up to return to the trees, but he tripped over a rock and his hand hit the portkey. "NOOOO!" he shouted. I can't leave my men, not now, not here, not in a battle. But it was to late. There was a tug then blackness.
Chapter 1: April 1st 2005
Harry Potter rode quickly through the deserted town of Hogshead leading the Army of the Thames forward. The army consisted of 150,000 men strong. Strong, but not quite strong enough. Voldemort's Army of Purebloods had 500,000 men. Harry was being beaten back on every front. His last battle had been one of the bloodiest ever. Voldemort was closing on London and Harry had to stop him. If Britain fell the United States would lose her last and greatest ally and would have to fight on against Iraq and North Korea alone. Plus his wife and long time friend Hermione was there with their new baby James. He couldn't let Voldemort hurt either one of them. Harry knew there was a portkey near this town. He also knew it would get him to London before Voldemort. Voldemort was still north somewhere. He saw it in the grass, a book titled Gods and Generals. He thought it an impressive title but he didn't know or care what it was about. This portkey was for him and his staff and the other generals. There was a much larger one ahead for his troops. He ordered his men to gather around the book. But before they could touch it a cannon blast rocked them back. They all placed their hands on their hands and slammed down into the dirt. Oliver Wood looked over his shoulder and looked at the banner flying over the troops. "It's Malfoy," he snarled to Harry. Harry nodded his head and jumped up. "ATTACK,"he shouted to his men. The men quickly charged Draco Malfoy who had doubt been sent by his father to scout the area. Harry shook his head. It could have been worse, he thought. Malfoy wasn't good at Quidditch and he wasn't good at leading an army. He just attacked head on with seeking out the strength of his opponent. Harry already held the high ground and had the superior numbers for a change. Malfoy probably had less than 1,000 men down in that valley. Harry hoped, prayed that the battle wouldn't last to long. He had to get to London before Voldemort or die trying. Spells from the wizards and bullets from terrorist supporters wizzed by his head. Which might happen soon if you don't get out of the open, you idiot. He quickly turned around, scanning eveywhere for good cover.He saw a clump of trees and ran toward them. He heard a grunt behind him and spun around. Oliver Wood lay on the ground blood streaming from a wound in his side. Harry ran to Oliver, but it was to late. "Damn!" Harry shouted. He suddenly rembered there were bullets flying all over and more men falling. He got up to return to the trees, but he tripped over a rock and his hand hit the portkey. "NOOOO!" he shouted. I can't leave my men, not now, not here, not in a battle. But it was to late. There was a tug then blackness.