(AN: First of all many apologies for this taking so long to get out. I had hoped to get this out before the end of the year, then things happened. But at least it's a nice fat chapter. I started a new job and like an cretin I started a new fic and it distracted me. Bad author, bad, bad author...

*ahem*

To some who are checking this out for the first time and are perhaps unfamiliar with my style, this story, like OPPD and ZSNT is a deconstruction, specifically a deconstruction of the various crossover genres, but with my own twist. This story will follow many of the standard tropes associated with these sorts of fanfics but it will also have some cruel plot twists. Just throwing this out there for anyone of the stray Harry Potter fans who happened on this fic and may not be prepared.

And with that, we're off!)

"Discipline is the soul of an army. It makes small numbers formidable; procures success to the weak and esteem to all."

- George Washington

(Somewhere in a forest in Sheffield, South Yorkshire, 1239 A.D., 0800 hours local time)

LTC David Long stood at the top of the steps that led to the castle that currently served as the Exiles' forward operating base, below him in the castle's courtyard the entire compliment of his cadre stood assembled at attention. Even the two Marines Captain Pelayo and Gunnery Sergeant Paul Jackson stood at attention. The only one missing was PFC Gobbi, who was currently on a mission. The colonel took all this in for just a moment before turning his attention to CSM Wolfe, who stood at the base of the steps. Long made eye contact with Wolfe, who nodded imperceptibly and took a deep breathe.

"At-EASE!"

The sergeant major's barked order had the assembled soldiers assume the position of parade rest, and Long began to speak.

"Gentlemen, good morning. The reason I have called you all here is for an announcement to make."

The colonel eyes swiveled down to CSM Wolfe, then he continued.

"As you might have inferred, the last mission, and even the training mission before that was a complete and total clusterfuck. I wish I could sugarcoat it, but there's no other word for it. Hell, the only reason Operation Arendelle succeeded was a pure miracle."

He paused for a moment.

"That is not your fault, but rather mine. I did not, and have not, inspired proper military discipline in any of you."

There was a murmur among the assembled soldiers, but they were silenced by a mere look from CSM Wolfe. Long continued.

"But with the compounded failures of the last mission, and the fact that Captain Pilton and his gang of war criminals are out there gunning for yours truly, means we can't continue like this. Not if we are to survive intact as a military unit. Effective immediately, things are going to change."

He turned to Wolfe, who nodded sagely and barked out another order.

"Lt. Bradley, Private Davis! Front and center!"

Both the soldiers took a step forward. Long noted the ornate silver ring dangling off a small chain attached to the lieutenant's radio.

"Lt. Bradley, I understand the Queen of Arendelle has already given you a reminder of her affection."

It was a statement, not a question, and the lieutenant grinned sheepishly.

"Um, roger that, sir. Not sure how she's gonna take to the long distance relationship..."

Long nodded, and then spoke in a more stern voice.

"Lieutenant, while congratulations are in order for your engagement and upcoming nuptials I will ask you to secure any personal items and maintain proper military bearing."

The grin left Bradley's face, and he hastily stuffed the ring, chain and all, into one of the pouches of his vest. Long continued, looking pointedly at the young officer.

"Lieutenant, you were given explicit orders for your mission to oversee the protection detail and the extraction of the HVP in Operation Arendelle, on several instances you did disobey those orders, and, not to be blunt, but shit happened."

When Bradley opened his mouth Long held up a hand, forestalling any objections.

"Don't even think about it, Lieutenant. As an officer you should set an example to the men, and as a result your insubordination more soldiers under your command disobeyed orders. That insubordination will not stand, something I intend to correct..."

Long turned to Wolfe.

"I think a bit of gardening is in order, don't you, Sergeant Major?"

A small but wicked smile crossed Wolfe's lips.

"Roger that, sir."

Long turned his attention back to Bradley and then gestured to the large courtyard where they were assembled. Dawn had broken and the sunlight was just starting to manifest itself, causing the dew to sparkle off the blades of grass.

"Lieutenant, as you might have noticed, this courtyard is a complete eyesore. There are more dandelions than grass, and I want that rectified immediately."

He saw the quizzical look on Bradley's face, so he continued.

"I want every dandelion weeded out of this courtyard, you will oversee that detail with Private Davis."

Long watched not without pleasure as the young officer's face fell at the implications.

"And don't be afraid to get your own hands dirty, Lieutenant."

The colonel turned his attention back to the assembled soldiers.

"And that goes for all the rest of you as well. Any instance of disobeying direct orders will be treated as insubordination and will be dealt with accordingly. Also, I am re-instituting effective immediately the Grooming Standards that Sergeant Major Wolfe enacted in Kabul and later in Dubai. You will all conduct yourselves like soldiers, look like soldiers, and act like them."

He looked over to Wolfe.

"Sergeant Major, you will enforce those rules, no exceptions."

CSM Wolfe nodded appreciatively.

"Roger that, sir. Thank you."

He looked at Long, then slowly ascended the stairs, until he was on the same level as Long. He spoke again, albeit in a lower voice that only Long could hear.

"Sir, police yer...er, that is..."

The sergeant major paused, then leaned in, grinning.

"I mean your stubble, sir. It's disgusting and unsat...with all due respect, sir."

Long ran a hand along his chin, bristly with a two-day beard, and grinned.

"Understood, sergeant major. As soon as formation is dismissed I get a proper shave."

Wolfe gave his third grin of the day, which was a personal record, and Long continued to address his men.

"And that goes for everyone else, effective immediately no facial hair will be allowed. All barracks and AO's will be conform to (AR) 420-1 regs; they will be clean, neat and ready for inspection at any time. Barracks standards for wearing uniforms will be upheld and enforced by either myself or Wolfe. That means no untucked shirts, improperly bloused boots, hands in pockets, walking on the grass, and anything else that I've forgotten but Wolfe has not."

He looked over to the sergeant major.

"Wolfe, you have complete oversight on this, even up to and including countermanding any orders of superior officers to keep this enforcement in effect. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Long regarded the face of each soldier under his command. To their credit, each of them held his gaze, and he finished his speech.

"As I said, gentlemen, the stakes are much higher now that we have rogue elements of the Damned 33rd running around out there."

He looked over to CSM Wolfe.

"Sergeant Major, you may dismiss the men. And if you or anyone else has a anyone has a razor I'd be greatly appreciated."

Wolfe reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small disposable Gillette mach 3 razor.

"Here, sir. Compliments of the house. And, if I may say so sir, well done."

Long grinned at the old sergeant.

"Thank you, Eric. Means a lot. Hopefully it'll stick."

The sergeant major nodded.

"Oh it will, sir. I'll see to it, an' if you back me up on it, it'll stick."

As Lt. Bradley and Private Davis left formation to start their gardening, the medic paused in front of Long, and raised his hand.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?"

Long nodded.

"Go ahead, private."

"Sir, what about Gobbi? He bucked orders too."

The colonel turned his attention to Major Gavin, who flushed slightly and spoke up.

"Um, Pri'at Gobbi at the moment is currently indisposed. Suffice it t'say that I'm sure he'd rather be weedin' this courtyard than his current assignment."

(Meanwhile, at that very moment in Hogwarts)

Gina blinked again, as a small, pointed instrument came dangerously close to her right eye.

"Quit tryin' to poke my eye out!"

Nanette huffed, albeit not without humor and she held the eyeliner pencil.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad, just stop squirming so much or I'll have Tracey hold your head still..."

PFC Gobbi, aka Gina Gavin, was not happy. Right now the private-turned-witchling was fervently praying to the Beautiful Lady, or any other deity that was listening for release. Anything, even scrubbing the toilets in the barracks latrine with a toothbrush was preferable to this. When she had 'reported in' to Bruce Gavin the major had given her a large bag full of cosmetics, courtesy of her 'mother', Captain Pelayo. Gina would have just as soon chucked the bag into the Great Lake on the south side of Hogwarts, but unfortunately for her Nanette had accompanied her to Hogsmeade, and to the Three Broomsticks where the meeting was supposed to take place. And promptly squee'd at all the expensive cosmetics in the bag.

Which came to her current situation, being the crash-test dummy for nearly every product in the bag. Nanette set down the eyeliner pencil and surveyed her work.

"Well, that looks lovely. Now Trace, could you hand me the lipstick? I think a bit of Dusky Pink will round it out..."

Then, armed with the small tube, she giggled at Gina.

"Right then, Gina I'm going to need you to pout."

"What?"

"You heard me, shouldn't be too difficult, given your current mood."

When the American girl didn't respond Tracey finally piped up.

"Um, she needs to apply the colouring to your lips, you need to pucker your lips and push all the way out so she can apply it evenly."

Gina sighed and puckered out her lips, feeling awkward.

"It's no different than putting on chapstick in AIT" she told herself, "...it's no different than chapstick, you're just overthinking it, private..."

Then Nanette set down the tube and took a step back.

"There, I think it's a good job, don't you?"

The smaller Slytherin girl nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes! You look wonderful, Gina!"

She took off her glasses, glancing back over to Nanette.

"Could you possibly do the same for me? I mean, if you don't mind Gina?"

The American girl was too busy staring at her reflection in the mirror and making a wry face.

"G'ahead, knock yourself out..."

Tracey paused.

"Are you sure? Some of those Muggle products are very expensive..."

Gina set down the mirror and shook her head.

"Yeah, well I'll probably never use `em, so if you can put them to use, more power to ya..."

Nanette giggled and was about to retort when the door opened, revealing the upperclassmen Daphne. The older girl glanced Gina's way and nodded.

"Headmaster Dumbledore wants to see you, Gina. Right away."

She paused.

"Nice makeup, by the way. Don't let the hall monitors see you."

Gina left her dorm with Daphne and Tracey trying on makeup and made her way through the Slytherin Commons to the halls of Hogwarts. Even now the private-turned-witchling was having to remind herself of the mission. Her small feet clicked on the stone floors as she made her way deeper into the school. Finally she arrived at a large set of wooden doors, and knocked on the timber. A muffled voice spoke up on the other side.

"Come in!"

Slowly Gina pushed the door open, and once again she found herself in the principal's office. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked up from his desk and gave a friendly smile.

"Ah, Miss Gavin, you made it, please come in."

As she approached the old wizard's desk, Dumbledore spoke again.

"You're wearing makeup."

She huffed.

"Thanks for noticing, sir."

The headmaster chuckled as he set his pince-nez down.

"Are you trying to be insolent, Miss Gavin?"

"No sir!" Gina frantically shook her head, "Honestly I can't tell when ya English types are being serious or sarcastic. Y'all need a light or a sign or somethin'..."

She paused.

"Er, I mean, about the makeup, it's after hours an' I was gonna wash it off but Daphne said it was urgent."

The American girl then saw that the old wizard was still smiling with a twinkle in his eye.

"It's alright, Miss Gavin. I was indulging in a bit of sarcastic humour, and I'm afraid you are quite correct when it comes to our kind, and in this case I'm not referring to the Wizarding World..."

Dumbledore stood up and made his way around the desk. Gina noticed that the humor left the headmaster's face as soon as he spoke again.

"I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news for you, Miss Gavin. I believe I have found the enemy sleeper agent, and have confirmed that her mission is indeed to terminate Miss Granger, with extreme prejudice."

Gina nodded. This part of the mission wasn't a shock to the private-turned-witchling, but it must have been for the old wizard. She spoke up.

"Who is she? I might be able to head her off before she makes her first move..."

Dumbledore gave a small, sad smile and shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Miss Gavin."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't have you disrupting the school. If you know who the sleeper is, you will always be on your guard. And when you are in class together, and you are in pretty much every class, you might slip up and your subterfuge will be for naught."

The headmaster stared into his fireplace.

"No, I think it will be better for you to find out who she is yourself. I assure you that she has not made a move yet, and if I think that Miss Granger is in danger and you are not there or unaware of it, I will promise to keep you both safe."

Gina nodded.

"Roger that. I suppose this means yer not gonna issue me my M9?"

Dumbledore chuckled again.

"I'm glad to see that having to relive your schooldays hasn't robbed you of your sense of humour, Miss Gavin. But no, I'm afraid the weapons from your old life will have to wait until the situation becomes much more dire. There is one more thing..."

The American girl looked up.

"What's that?"

The headmaster paused, then slowly shuffled over to an alcove in his office. In the alcove was a shallow metal basin, into which strange runes were carved and precious stones were fitted. Dumbledore then spoke, his back to Gina.

"Do you know what this is, Miss Gavin?"

When the girl shook her head, the old wizard continued.

"This is a Pensieve, it is a magical artifact that siphons thoughts from one's mind. I use it to collect my thoughts, pardon the pun. But it also can be used on other people..."

He then turned around to face Gina.

"Professor Snape has been asking about you, Miss Gavin."

"So?"

"I believe he has his suspicions, he also was asking about the student who is the sleeper agent as well. But his interest in you is more dangerous to the mission."

Gina thought back to her flashback episode in Potions class.

"Great, I knew I was gonna blow my cover this early."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Oh, no no, Miss Gavin. You misunderstand me. Professor Snape's interest in you and your eccentricities are dangerous to the mission, but because it is not borne of mere suspicion. He, of all persons, is worried about you. I don't know why, perhaps it's because you are Slytherin, or perhaps it's because he thinks that you had some past trauma that is giving you PTSD..."

He paused.

"Which, given what Major Gavin said about what occurred in Dubai, I think is warranted."

Gina shrugged.

"Okay, so I won't fall asleep in class, so what?"

The headmaster gestured to the pensieve.

"Professor Snape had approached me about using the pensieve to, as he put it, 'help one of his Slytherin charges' with her past trauma."

He put his pince-nez back on.

"You see, these pensieves can allow someone to see a person's thoughts and past memories, sort of like a motion picture."

Gina's eyes widened as the implications sank in.

"But then he'd be able to see my old memories, and then..."

"Yes, Miss Gavin, then he'll see all your memories as Private First Class Pete Gobbi in Dubai, and then I'm afraid all your hard work and subterfuge will be for nothing."

He returned to the large chair behind his desk.

"Still, I don't think it would be the end of the world if Professor Snape found out, it would be just one more person in on the secret."

"Um, sir, when I was debriefed I know about his past affiliations with Vold-I mean You-Know-Who."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Oh yes, I am aware of his past as a Death Eater, and I assure you that is the least of my worries. Anyways, I can keep Professor Snape at bay for now, but do be careful. I believe you military types use the phrase 'danger close', and that is definitely applicable here."

With that the old wizard pulled open a scroll and started reading it, apparently forgetting all about Gina. After a few minutes of awkward silence she stood up out of her chair and broke the silence.

"I should go...I'll let myself out..."

Slowly Gina made her way to the door, then glanced back. Albus Dumbledore was engrossed in that same scroll, reading intently. The private-turned-witchling shook her head and opened the door. She was still shaking her head and thinking about what an odd duck the headmaster was when she almost collided with another student who was standing in the doorway.

The student was a girl, about Gina's age, with long ash-blonde hair and very pale skin. It took the American girl a moment to register that the new girl was a Ravenclaw, and for some reason had her wand stuck behind her left ear like an oversized pencil. Gina backed away, muttered apologies.

"Shit! Er, sorry there didn't see ya..."

The girl stared at Gina with unsettling silver-grey eyes. Finally she spoke in a soft, dreamy voice.

"You're the new girl. The one from America."

Gina shrugged.

"Yeah, what was your first clue, my accent or my bad table manners?"

The girl didn't respond, but continued to stare at Gina.

"I saw you at Hogsmeade, you met your father there."

The private-turned-witchling shrugged.

"Yeah, and here's an earth-shattering revelation for ya, he's an American, too."

The girl actually smiled at that.

"Yes, I thought so with his odd clothes. Then one of my friends told me he was in the military, and that those clothes are called a uniform."

She continued staring at Gina, which made the American girl nervous, so she decided to switch tact. She recalled seeing carriages carrying students to Hogwarts being drawn by creepy, reptilian horses, so she continued.

"Am I the only one who thinks those horses are a bit creepy?"

The girl cocked her head to one side.

"What horses?"

"I mean those things that look like a cross between a pterodactyl, a bat and a horse, they were pulling carriages, what's up with that?"

The girl smiled.

"Ah, the Thestrals, I supposed it would be a bit odd to someone who hasn't been to Hogwarts before, most don't even see them-"

She paused, and her silver eyes widened. Then she turned, leaning in even closer to Gina.

"You can see the Thestrals?"

Gina fought down a creeping panic in her spine, so she nodded.

"Yeah, so what? They look nuts..."

Before the girl could respond Gina heard a familiar voice call out.

"Hey Looney Luna! Stop messing with the new girl!"

Gina saw Daphne approaching, with Nanette and Tracey in tow. The girl smiled at Gina.

"Thank you for making your acquaintance. Pity about you being Slytherin. Must be off..."

With that the girl dashed off, with Daphne chasing after her down the hall. Nanette approached Gina.

"Everything alright, Gina?"

The American girl nodded.

"Yeah, who was that?"

Tracey spoke up next to Nanette.

"That's Luna Lovegood. She's a Ravenclaw, and part of that clique of Harry Potter's."

Gina knew this from the debriefing, but she played ignorant and played along.

"So, she's a bit cuckoo?"

Nanette giggled.

"Well, there's a reason we call her Looney Luna, and not just because Slytherin and Ravenclaw hate each other's guts."

Daphne finally returned, puffing slightly.

"One day I'll catch that stupid little twit..."

She looked over to Gina.

"Come on, let's get back to the Slytherin Commons. Professor McGonagall is on the warpath, and if she sees you wearing that much makeup she'll shit a brick and give us all detention."

(Meanwhile, in Wiltshire, U.K., 2005, 1832 hours local time)

SFC Barnes felt a bit disoriented after the portal spell. He had used it a couple of times before, but it still took some getting used to. There was no denying the magical portal's tactical advantage; one minute they were in Hogsmeade, and thirty seconds later they were 500 miles away at the 'Damned's forward operating base.

"Just fair warning, Polly, the men are in weekend mode, an' Pilton's away."

Polly smiled at Barnes.

"You're afraid the men are too drunk to see one of their own? Relax, I got this."

Barnes gave the lieutenant who was currently in a 15 year old redheaded girl's body an uncertain nod. Since they started the mission Barnes had noticed a slight drop in military bearing by the soldiers of Kilo Company. It was all small stuff, usually started by Bunny, or Cooper. But for some reason it made him feel uneasy bringing the loot in her current form back to base.

The old NCO's fears were well-founded as soon as he opened the door to the vicarage. The smell of booze wafted over him like a miasma, and the raucous laughter told Barnes everything he needed to know. He was about to tell Perkins to wait outside, but the lieutenant had already stepped inside and was walking past the main room to the stairway. Past the all the soldiers of Kilo, who were drunk. She hadn't taken three steps before the catcalling already started. Someone, Barnes was unsure who, called out.

"Hey there pretty girl! Lookit'chu! Hey come on show us some skin!"

Even Miller, normally reserved, grinned as he swigged a bottle of lager.

"Nice legs, loot. What time do they open?"

Cooper called out as he finished a shot, chasing it with a beer.

"Hey eltee! I'll give you a clean $20 to show us what's under that skirt!"

Bunny, who was drinking directly from a carafe by the fireplace, grinned salaciously.

"Fuck, that's chump change. I'll give you fifty to see what's under THAT!"

Barrigan shoved him aside. He might have been the drunkest of all of them. Perkins could smell the liquor on his breath even from six feet away and he was slurring his words.

"You lack… imagination… Specialist. A HUNDRED bucks for five minutes of your time, Lieutenant. Satisfaction… guaranteed."

Barrigan descended into uncontrollable raucous laughter, and the rest of Kilo joined in. Perkins felt her cheeks grow red. She flipped them all the bird.

"All of you can go fuck yourselves!"

With she sped up the stairs. But before any of the 'Damned' could jeer or make any other comment, they heard a harsh voice bark up.

"What in the actual fuck?!"

SFC Barnes stood in the doorway, growling menacingly at the men.

"You fuckers realize yer catcalling a guy in a girls form right? An' she's underaged!"

Barnes continued his rant, his gaze glaring at each soldier in turn.

"...That's right, fuckers! She's 15!"

His gaze fell on Miller.

"Fuck's sake, Cole, you have a daughter that's what, 12, 13? What if that was your baby girl?"

The pilot flushed, and shook his head.

"Sorry, sergeant. Got carried away."

Barnes' gimlet glare fell on Barrigan.

"Goddammit Frank, you should know better!"

Barrigan, suddenly sobered up, set his drink down and lowered his eyes in shame.

"Yeah, sorry Bob, I didn't mean anything by it."

"The fuck you didn't." Barnes growled. "I saw the way you were looking at her. I know what you wanted to do, an' what all the rest of you shitheads wanted to do."

Bunny took another swig and drawled out drunkenly.

"Jeezus H Kerrist sarge, chill man! You're talkin' like the loot's your daughter or something."

That was a mistake. Every soldier in Kilo Company tensed up. They saw the dangerous glint in Barnes' eyes. Martzen had pushed 'Old Thunder's one berserker button. The room was deathly quiet as Barnes stalked up to the specialist. For a full uncomfortable minute Barnes just glared murderously at Bunny, who was petrified and getting more sober by the minute. The senior NCO's nostrils flared as he seethed. Then he made his move, and everyone thought that Martzen was toast, only to have Barnes snatch the carafe out of the young soldier's hand.

"You've had too much to drink, Specialist Martzen. Yer cut off."

He violently threw the carafe into the fireplace, causing it to explode in a shower of shards and sparks. He then turned to address the rest of the soldiers.

"Same goes for the rest of you shitstains. I mean, what in the actual the fuck? Captain and I leave for one day and the rest of you fuckers go off the leash? Two drink limit, and by the looks of y'all you went over by six."

He glanced over to the Interrogator.

"An' you, with all due respect, Dossler," his voice dripped with contempt as he spoke, "you should be settin' a better example, not boozing it up."

He directed his attention to the others.

"So, for all of yours sake I'm giving the debriefing. Whilst she is in her current form Lt. Perkins is off limits, up to and including unlawful carnal knowledge, dirty pictures, naked selfies, groping, touching, or anything else that would trigger a SHARP briefing. Otherwise I will Article 15 your sorry asses shortly after I murder you to death for unnatural acts."

He looked directly at Kilo's first sergeant and spoke in a voice oozing with contempt.

"Anything you care to add to that, 1SG Dossler?"

Dossler knew Barnes was pissed and knew better than to provoke him, so he set down his beer.

"Negative. Gentlemen what Sergeant First Class Barnes said holds true and consider it ratified by me. All consumption of alcoholic beverages are to cease and desist as of now. And ditto what he said about the Loot. Don't fuck with minors or rattlesnakes, or it will be your ass."

The company gave a collective

"Roger that."

And with that, Barnes turned and made his way up the stairs. At the top at the far end of the hallway was a room with the light on but the door was closed. He slowly walked to the door and gingerly tried the knob, but found it locked, unsurprisingly. He knocked softly.

"Perkins? It's Barnes."

He heard small footfalls padding on the wooden floorboards inside, followed by a click! and then more soft footsteps. Barnes paused for a moment, then slowly tried the knob again. This time it turned, and the door opened. When it opened wide enough the old NCO stepped through the doorway and shut it behind him. Inside he found Perkins lying face down on her bed. He noiselessly stepped across the floor to the sitting area by the fireplace and over to a chair that faced the bed. Barnes sat down, and for a long while said nothing. The only sound was the ticking of a clock on the mantlepiece.

Finally Perkins looked up, and through the curtain of red hair Barnes saw tears streaming down her reddened cheeks. It piqued the old sergeant, ripping open old emotional wounds that had long ago scabbed over. In spite of this, Barnes almost welcomed the pain. It reminded him of his old life, reminding him once again that he was a human being, and not a weapon covered in meat and blood. He broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about the men..."

"Those fucking bastards..." She mumbled through her tears.

"Those bastards...they didn't even see me as Lt. Perkins anymore...not even as a fellow soldier...just a pair of tits with legs and a cunt..."

Barnes smiled thinly.

"They're drunk as skunks...an' if it makes you feel better ol' Wild Bill's gonna rip `em a new asshole when he gets in."

Perkins propped herself up on her elbows, pushing some of her hair away from her face. She smiled, or rather tried to smile.

"From what I heard, you did a pretty good job of that yourself..."

The old sergeant flushed slightly.

"Oh, you heard that..."

Perkins smiled again.

"It was kind of hard not to...your voice does carry."

"Well, er-those fuckin' idiots went off the leash and over the two drink limit, I was just re-establishing good order and discipline."

She wiped away her tears with her sleeve.

"Yeah, I heard...thank you."

Barnes paused.

"For what?"

"For sticking up for me...defending me against the heathen hoards..."

The old sergeant smiled again, this time it was more genuine.

"Yeah, well I guess I'm gettin' too deep into this role as yer dad."

Perkins settled down into her pillow. Her voice came through, softer, albeit muffled through the pillow.

"Barnes, er-I mean...could you stay here, for the night? Just in case?"

The old NCO nodded.

"Sure."

Perkins slowly drifted off to sleep, and her words were so soft Barnes almost didn't hear it.

"Thank you...daddy..."

Barnes didn't say anything after that. Nor did Perkins, she just continued to lay on the bed, sleeping and dreaming of a simpler time, when being late for school was the worst thing, and getting an A+ was the most important thing. True to his word, Barnes spent the entire night in Perkin's room, sitting by the fireplace, pondering the greater implications of the mission.

(AN: So apologies for not getting this out sooner, I got sidetracked with a new job and because I'm an idiot I started a new story. I promise I'll keep sticking to my once a month updates, and please continue to sub/follow/fav and comment, as it keeps me going on this story.

So, this chapter was mostly a juxtaposition, of sorts. One the one hand up until now the Exiles have been very undisciplined and Mildly Military, whereas the Damned have been much more disciplined in their approach, and much more like their counterparts in the real world. And yet, here we are with the Exiles getting whipped into shape and the Damned are showing their less-than-savory side. And poor Perkins and Barnes are getting way too deep into their cover for either of their's good. Let's hope Pilton doesn't catch wind of this, or else maybe he is aware of it, and is orchestrating it.

For those of you who are not Potter fans, the Thestrals comment by Luna Lovegood is important, because normally those creatures are invisible to everyone, except those who have been touched by death, i.e. those who have seen death or caused it. Of which the Damned 33rd have done in spades in Dubai. Which is why Luna was so unsettled by Gina's admission, let's hope that doesn't blow her cover!

To find out what what happens next to the Potter-verse and the 33rd's adventures therein, stay tuned and as promised I'll get another chapter up before next month!)