Chapter Nine

'How we doin' doc?' Inquired Kit as he walked into the hospital.

'Well Kit, It brings me no pleasure to say this Kit, however, I will say it. They're going to be fine, their memories' have been modified already and we've got 'em so that they'll be asleep until they've been at Hogwarts for an hour,' replied Leon "Doc" Sajer as she wiped his hands with a pale green cloth.

'Feth Doc, if I hadn't known you for so long I wouldn't know you were French. You don't talk like one, seems like I've rubbed my Southern accent off on ya. And needless to say, you sure can fight must be a descendent of some of the French Resistance. And one thing's for sure you sure don't fit the stereotype of French women.'

'Well Kit, I try and make it so the French jokes stay to a minimum, preferably keep them from being made at all. And my father was American. And my mother is descendant from French Resistance members. Anything else you need, General?'

'Well actually Doc, would you mind runnin' on by Captain Granger's tent and checkin' on her? I don't know how she's takin' the events of today, so if you don't mind checkin' up on her before you go on patrol. Hooah?'

'Hooah, General. I'll check up on Captain Granger,' replied Sajer with a salute.

Returning the salute Kit turned and began to walk out, stopping before he got to the exit, he stopped turned his head slightly. 'Doc, get these three pathetic excuses for humans out of here, they do not belong in the same building as men wounded in combat,' he then walked out of the hospital.

'Roger that sir,' replied Leon, she then turned to a soldier standing nearby, 'Corporal, get those three and get 'em outta here. On the double!'

'Yes, ma'am,' replied the soldier.

Sitting in two chairs in front of a large oak desk Harry and Ron looked at each other nervously. The entrance to the tent burst open and three soldiers walked in. The first one was the one who was with Hermione on the trip here, where ever they were. The second one looked quite insane, he looked as though there was just barely enough skin to cover his skull, and his eyes were cold a merciless yellow. The third one had the same haircut as the other two, little on the top and none on the side, his eyes were deep blue, and what little hair he had was black. His skin was tanned and he was close to the same height as the second one. Each one was armed with a rifle. They walked behind the large oak desk, the one who had been with Hermione took a seat in a tall chair. 'Mister Potter, Mister Weasley…'

Hermione lay quietly on the bed inside the tent replaying the events of the day over and over in her mind. When it was all over and they had landed here her feelings on the matter were clear, but as she continued to watch the events over and over she became more and more confused.

She remembered watching Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, as they were loaded onto the second Blackhawk. Crabbe and Goyle's only wounds were the shoulder wounds Draco however, his lips and chin were caked with dried blood and his eyes were fogged. She had no pity for Malfoy then, but as she replayed the scenes over and over she began to question whether or not he really deserved what he got. Dunningham, who was standing beside her, let out a sigh of relief when he saw Draco…

Two soldiers with expressionless faces carried the final stretcher. Hermione's hair was flowing freely in the wind created by the rotating propellers of the Blackhawk. Lying unmoving on the stretcher was Draco. His hair was tangled, his face was deathly pale, and his forehead covered in sweat. His lips and chin were covered in dried blood. Standing behind her was Dunningham, who when Draco passed by let out a sigh of relief. 'He's one lucky fether, I'll give him that.'

Hermione turned away from the body on the stretcher to look up at Dunningham. "Why is that exactly?"

'Hermione, Kit is both my friend and my CO. I've known him long enough that a few minutes ago when he told me to go take you over to Mara and that you didn't want to stick around to see what was next, I knew what was coming next. Kit has almost a second personality; he wouldn't approve of me telling you too much about him though, especially its name. But I will say this, I'll be fethed if Kit didn't take a backseat in his body for a good two minutes before Dekker noticed and brought Kit back to the driver's seat. And that was just before he took his first shot, if Dekker hadn't stopped him Draco would be being carried off in a body bag with three bullets lodged firmly in his skull. And the only thing that's keeping about three-fourths of the Slytherins in Hogwarts alive is you, and our orders. And I won't be surprised if at the end of the year Umbridge finds herself six feet under. I've never seen Kit hate anyone so much as he despises her.

Now one thing I have noticed is that when he gets around you he is somewhat different, not too much, but enough. He softens a little bit, but is twice as alert. I think the day that we all took the job of watching over all of y'all after your first year, he took a personal vow that anything that would harm you would die a slow, painful death. I know Kit, and that wasn't quite him makin' that vow. The first part of his vow was him, the second part was O'Mal-,' Dunningham caught himself mid sentence, 'his other side. I've never heard him promise something like that.

Needless to say, if it weren't for you Draco'd be dead. But I don't think Kit'll disobey his orders that no student will be killed. However, due to the fact that their memory will be modified to forget this, you'll still have to deal with them as usual. Here comes—'

'Hermione?' Came a female voice from the entrance to the tent, jerking Hermione from an unknown sleep.

Hermione's eyes were still trying to focus when she turned to see who it was. Her eyes focused in on a woman standing half inside, half outside Hermione inquired, "Yes? Who are you?"

'I'm Corporal Leon "Doc" Sajer. Kit sent me here to check up on you before I went out on my patrol. Feelin' all right?'

Hermione shook her head and said, "No, not really."

'Mind if I come in?'

'No, please come, sit.'

Leon walked into the room; she was slightly taller than Hermione. She like everyone else at the base wore the standard woodland camouflage BDUs except her right arm had a white band with a Red Cross on it. Her face was tanned, with a scar above her eyebrows, and another one running along her jaw line on the right side of her face. Her hair could not be seen from underneath the helmet, her eyes were a brilliant sky blue. Leon pulled a chair from across the tent and pulled it up beside the bed and sat down. Hermione sat up in the bed and positioned herself so that she was looking directly at Leon. Leon removed her helmet revealing ear length blackish brown hair, she then placed the helmet on her knee and looked back up at Hermione and said, 'You look like you've got something on your mind Hermione, what is it?'

Hermione took a minute to collect her thoughts and then began, "Everyone that I've talked to always tells me about Kit's dark side, but no one really tells me what it is, or—"

'Hang on a sec there Hermione, let me tell you a few things about Kit. First off, I know he's going to be mad at me for telling you but I will anyway, his dark side's name is O'Malley, why it's named that I don't know. I've seen O'Malley a few times myself, more than I'd like to, and he scares everyone around him, even Dekker. But O'Malley doesn't scare anyone more than it does Kit. Kit is almost at a constant state of war with himself to keep O'Malley from taking over, and no O'Malley isn't an alternate personality or anything like that, but there are times when Kit allows him to take over for something. Now I'll be the first to celebrate should Kit ever manage to get rid of O'Malley, but I will also say there are times when he comes in fethin' useful.

You see a lot of times when you're in combat you don't think about the fact that when your bullet hits the enemy and kills them. You don't have the time to think about all the consequences of you killing that person, because at that point in time the only thing you care about is keeping your buddies alive, because you know that they're doing their best to keep you alive. So after a battle most people start feeling regrets, remorse, and feels horrible. Some just simply see it as something that had to be done for a cause. Then you have some folk who enjoy it; Kit falls in the second category. O'Malley falls in the last, but in certain times O'Malley can be very useful in longer sustained fire fights, because while O'Malley does the fighting it allows Kit to keep cool and think smart.

The time in which you really have to worry are after the battle like today. I can tell you exactly what happened when Kit had Dunningham take you over to talk to Mara. Kit's despised the Malfoys ever since the first war with Voldemort, and so all that pent up anger towards them has had no chance to be let out, and today was him blowing off a little steam, and lucky for Draco, Dekker just happened to see it. Now knowing Kit he wouldn't have killed Draco, mostly because of orders, but he would have brought him close to it.

And I will say that my own personal experience with Kit didn't start of on the best of terms. You see when I went to tryout for a beaters position of the Spiders I was only one of three French people who attempted to tryout for it, Kit's loathing of the French preceded him so most were afraid. But Kit does have an undying respect for the members of the French Resistance during World War Two…'

Kit walked down the line of people who were attempting to tryout for one of the two vacant Beater's positions. He paused in front of each one of them in turn. Scanning each of them with his eyes and a look of utter hatred on his face. When Kit stopped in front of Leon he turned on his heel and saw the name Sajer on her Quidditch robes an evil expression formed on his face. He walked up to her and put his face barely five inches from the tip of Leon's nose. 'SAJER!'

The unexpected shock of someone yelling that loudly from barely five inches away caused Leon to jump at least two inches off the ground. Attempting to regain some form of composure she responded shakily, 'Yes?'

'SAJER, WHERE EXACTLY ARE YOU FROM?'

Leon had hoped that this question wouldn't come up, 'Argonne, France.'

With a look of extreme grim satisfaction on his face Kit tore into her, 'FRANCE, HUH? EXPLAIN TO ME YOU'RE REASONING HERE SAJER. HOW CAN YOU EVEN THINK OF COMING HERE TO TRY OUT FOR MY SOUTHERN AMERICAN QUIDDITCH TEAM, KNOWIN' FULL WELL THAT I ONLY TAKE THE BEST? AND AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED THE BEST DOES NOT INCLUDE PATHETIC FROGS WHO LOSE TO THEMSELVES IN A WAR, AND SURRENDER AT THE FIRST SIGN OF A GERMAN WITH A RIFLE! ARE YOU GOING TO SURRENDER NOW THAT YOU'RE TAKIN' A LITTLE FIRE HERE SAJER? I KNOW YOU WANT TO, RIGHT NOW A DEAD MAGGOT HAS A BETTER CHANCE OF MAKIN' THIS HERE TEAM THAN YOU AND ANY OTHER FETHIN' FROGS THAT HAVE EVEN CONSIDERED COMIN' OUT HERE,' somewhere down the line someone let out a small chuckle. Kit wheeled around faster than anyone she'd ever seen and marched over there. Feeling relieved at the break from Kit's roaring and horrible breath (Kit had heard that a few French were coming to try out) she turned her head slightly to try and see who it was. But that was proved unnecessary because grabbed who ever it was by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out in front of every one else and began again, 'EXACTLY WHAT DO YOU FIND SO FETHIN' FUNNY HERE, SANCHEZ?'

The person who was now being yelled replied, 'My name's not Sanchez, it's—'

He never got to finish that sentence because Kit had kicked him in the back of the knee and then continued, 'I DON'T GIVE A FLYIN' FETH WHAT YOU'RE NAME IS, BECAUSE I CAN GUARENTEE THAT NEITHER YOU OR SAJER ARE GONNA MAKE THIS TEAM. NOW GIVE ME THIRTY, ON THE DOUBLE! BOTH OF YA!'

Leon was still trying to figure out what "Give me thirty," meant when two pairs of hands grabbed her shoulders and she found herself being hauled up beside "Sanchez". She was then thrust unceremoniously face first to the ground.

'PUSH-UPS, YOU STUPID FETHERS NOT ONLY DOES THAT DEAD MAGGOT HAVE A BETTER CHANCE OF MAKIN' THIS HERE TEAM, BUT HE'S APPARENTLY A LOT MORE INTELLIGENT!' came Kit's roaring voice.

Leon hated push-ups, she moved quickly into the standard push-up position when something heavy collided on her back causing her arms to buckle under her. She had just began to turn to see what was resting on her back when a black boot collided with her side knocking what little breath she had in her lungs completely out. 'DAGBLAMMIT SAJER, I SAID THIRTY PUSH-UPS ON THE DOUBLE! LYING ON THE GROUND IS NOT AN OPTION, OR ARE YOU SURRENDERING? WELL FRENCHIE ARE YA?'

It was at that exact moment in time when Sajer knew that she was going to make this team if it was the last thing she ever did. With adrenaline coursing through her veins she lifted herself slowly off the ground and began the task of attempting to do thirty push-ups with a forty-pound bag lying on her back.

'OH, WE GOT US A LIVE ONE HERE FELLAS! TOO SLOW HERE SAJER, YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN ON TWENTY-TWO, AND YOU'RE ONLY ON FIFTEEN!' Once again the boot came crashing into her side sending her crashing to the ground, 'WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION SAJER? CAN YOU NOT EVEN HANDLE THIRTY PUSH-UPS? IF YOU CAN'T TAKE THIS HOW DO YOU EXPECT TO HANDLE A BLUDGER IN A MATCH? Oh, wait that's right YOU'RE NOT GOING TO MAKE THE TEAM SO IT DOESN'T MATTER!'

Feeling nothing but hate towards Kit, Leon rolled onto her stomach still gasping for air, and began doing push-ups again. 'Well, well, well. Sajer, you just might have a chance. AT WALKING OUT OF THIS TRY OUT WITH SOME DIGNITY. Wait; never mind the French have no dignity.'

Five minutes and ten-boot kicks later Leon finished the thirty push-ups. Seeing that Leon was done Kit grabbed the bag off her back and tossed them to the side then offered his hand to help her get back up. She looked up expecting to see some evil look, but instead was met with a softer expression. Taking the hand, Kit pulled her up off the ground and said, 'Get back in line, Frenchie.'

Smiling to herself she walked back to her spot in line (which was surprisingly smaller since Kit had threatened to do the same to them, causing a number of them to run away) and watched as "Sanchez" finished his push-ups. Expecting to see Kit give the same treatment to "Sanchez" as he had shown her, she was greatly surprised.

'SANCHEZ YOU MISERABLE FAILURE (a kick to the stomach), HOW CAN YOU LET A FRENCHIE BEAT YOU? GET UP AND GET YOUR GEAR AND GET THE FETH OUTTA MY SIGHT!' With that Kit picked up the bag off of "Sanchez's" back and then threw it back on to his back sending "Sanchez" crashing to the ground. Once again Kit retrieved the bag and threw it to the side, and kicked him again in the stomach, 'I SAID GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!'

"Sanchez" gasping for breath slowly began to crawl towards the locker rooms. But before he made it to far two figures grabbed him from behind and carried him to the locker rooms. Kit turned to face the remaining line, which now consisted of two people, Leon and someone else.

'YOU THERE! NEXT TO SAJER GET OVER HERE AND GIVE ME THIRTY!' But before Kit had even finished the guy standing beside her was already halfway across the pitch.

Kit pulled out a blue box and removed a stick of chewing gum, placed it in his mouth then walked up to Leon, 'Well Sajer, you appear to be the only one left. Congratulations you've made the team.'

'But, don't you want me to fly first?' Asked Leon, bewildered.

'Sajer, most people break under those circumstances like I just put you through. And once I saw you turn all the things I said around and use them for a reason to insure your position on this team, there's not one thing I could have you do that you wouldn't be able to finish. And that's what I was looking for out here today. And just so you know, I may not think too highly of the French, but not at the level of which I displayed here today. I hold the utmost respect for the members of the French Resistance during World War Two. Now go on and head into the locker rooms, Mara'll get you fitted into your Quidditch Robes. Congratulations once again.'

'Thank you,' replied Sajer smiling inwardly at herself.

Sajer took a breath after retelling the story of her Quidditch tryout and then said, 'If Kit's not in combat, or really has something to be angry at, his anger is just an act. He follows very close to the military principles of General Lee, General "Stonewall" Jackson, and General Patton. So don't worry about Kit, he knows where the line is drawn, and unless your life or one of ours' are at risk then he won't cross it. So don't you go worryin' about things like today. Kit'll always be there to help. Feelin' better now?'

Hermione nodded, "One thing though. You're French, but you don't sound French.'

Leon smiled, 'Well I'm not full blooded French, my mom was descended from French Resistance members, and my dad is an American. I have to head out now, but if you want I can have Mara stop by.'

Hermione nodded. "That'd be fine."

'Okay then, I'll talk to Mara then. Talk to ya later Hermione,' with those words Leon got up and walked out of the tent. Leaving Hermione to think over all the things that she had just learned about Kit.