AN: Just maybe, I'll aim for a bi-weekly schedule?

Chapter 26 - A Leg Up

Flash. Thunder. The sky lit up for a brief moment as the bolt of lightning illuminated the stormy clouds and terraced buildings. Two men slipped past the streets and alleyways, moving through the crowds of umbrellas with unnatural ease.

Their eyes flickered overhead just in time to see the two blurring men in MLE-grade Nimbus 1500 sweeping by in tight formation. The model was old despite its Magical Law Enforcement specifications, but then again, old is gold and the department lacked gold. Averting their attention back onto their path, the pair slipped through the last of the crowds and into a deserted alleyway.

The prickling sensation on the back of their necks cued the presence of a Muggle-Repelling ward. Lurking there were two wizards in midnight blue robes, Russian Aurors. The Russians nodded towards their khaki-robed counterparts in greeting.

"Evening," one of the Russians murmured without a trace of accent. "Your backups?"

"I've got two Hit Wizards circling the skies for reconnaissance," one of the British replied. "MLEP are on standby, a Protean Charm relay will call them up at a moment's notice. Other than that, it's just the two us here on the ground."

"Of course," the Russian acquiesced. "Two British Aurors are all that is needed. Stanning and Rowlan, am I right?"

"Aye," the other British confirmed. "Skip the pleasantries and let's get this done. Curse this rain."

"No need to rush, Rowlan," said the earlier British. "We have plenty of time."

Ignoring the grumbling of his partner, Stanning turned back to the Russian.

"You have the intel?"

Stanning could swear that behind the standard black mask of the Russian Aurors, the man was smirking.

"Of course," the Russian responded, handing him a length of rope.

Stanning took the rope, passing the other end of it to his partner. He did not need anyone to tell him that it was a portkey, but the fact that it was possibly unauthorised was slightly disconcerting. Not that he cared.

The portkey took them away in a familiar pull and the two British Aurors found themselves in an apartment overlooking a canal. They could see the occasional boat floating along with the current, but other than that, the place was deserted. Stanning would wager that they were a few miles off from the town centre, far from prying eyes.

Two cracking sounds appeared beside them and the British Aurors had their wands out in an instant, aiming at the source. The two Russian Aurors appeared unconcerned at the wands aiming squarely at their chest, merely walking over to the window and pointing at the canal.

"We got a tip off," one of the Russian Aurors stated. "Possible Black Mark shipment traveling down the canal, we can expect them in thirty minutes."

The two British Aurors gave each other a hungry grin and nodded. They went to work immediately, setting up subtle Muggle-Repelling wards and detection charms. Ten minutes flat and they had cordoned off a portion of the canal for their assault. The Russians provided aid, adding wards of their own. In the short time Stanning had worked with the Russians, he had noticed that Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey wards were a priority and speciality among Russian Magical Law Enforcement personnel. It clashed frequently with the British operating procedures which favoured having the access of magical transportation for quick repositioning and flanking in an coordinated effort that would trump over opponents.

Not that Stanning was complaining, rapid outmanoeuvre tactics normally required a full team. With just Rowlan and him, as well as the Russians who were unfamiliar with their training, locking down all forms of magical transportation seemed like a sound plan. Magical transportation would only aid their quarry in this case. If only the people down in the Department of Mysteries would come up with a way to selectively disable magical transportation, now that would be a huge game changer.

With the wards and charms done, the Aurors contented themselves to waiting. They had all done that before, patience was essential in capturing a quarry. Rowlan gave a few protests against the lack of any trap spells, but keeping the area free of heavy magic was important lest they be detected before the ambush was sprung.

True to the Russian's word, a lonely barge made its way into their view within half an hour. It was their target, no Muggle vessel would be sputtering across the water in long bangs like a demented nautical version of the Knight Bus, blinking forward in leaps of fifty yards every moment or so.

Stanning tugged at his dragonhide gear in a form of reassurance, nodding to his compatriots. Rowlan waved his wand about and began a long incantation, a swirl of magic slowly rising in the air as the waters around the barge began sloshing about into the vessel. The Russians were missing when Stanning threw a sideways glance, Stanning ignored it, the Russians had their own operating procedures. Aiming his wand at the barge, Stanning summoned every once of his energy.

"Finite Incantatem! Fulgur Maxima!"

The first spell dispelled any standard protection charms before arcs of lightning flew from the tip of his wand towards the drenched vessel, hopefully knocking out the majority of the opposition. Vaulting out from the building and casting a Cushioning Charm on the ground, Stanning landed and tumbled on the ground before dashing for the canal. He made it just in time to see a whirlpool locking the barge in place, Rowlan never had it for quick spells but in the case of long incantation spells, he had it in spades. Grinning to himself, Stanning threw a Homenum Revelio to get a sense of the situation. Five targets, no big deal, more than half would likely be down from his initial spell.

A sprint towards the edge of the canal walls, a leap and a levitation charm to extend the jump distance. Stanning landed onto the barge, steadying himself on the rocking boat and keeping his wand up at the ready.

One hooded figure climbed out from a latch and Stanning hit him in between the eyes with a Stunning Spell. One down, four more to go. Heading over to the latch, he jumped down and cast a preemptive Shield Charm. A curse smashed against the Shield Charm and Stanning tumbled aside towards the interior walls of the barge, dodging the second curse.

"Bombarda!"

His spell sent a plume of metal and dust into the confined space. Twirling his wand around, he conjured several knives and banished them into the cloud of dust. A thud and grunt confirmed a hit and Stanning cleared the dust with a wave of his wand. Many of the knives were embedded in the metal walls of the barge, water seeping through. In front of him lay an unconscious man, a pool of blood forming around the knife stuck in his gut.

Stanning rushed over to cast a Stasis Spell on the wound, stopping the blood loss, before proceeding to release several Stunners for good measure. Taking note of his surroundings, he proceeded to sweep the rest of the vessel.

To his relief, the other three targets were decommissioned from his initial lightning spell. Binding them up with a simple Incarcerous, Stanning headed back to the surface of the barge, waving Rowlan over. The wards were dropped and Rowlan apparated over, appearing beside him.

"How many?"

"Five men."

"Not enough," Rowlan shook his head.

"Let's judge that once we find out what this ship is all about," Stanning said reassuringly.

Waving his wand, he vanished the tarpaulin stretched across the cargo bay of the barge. The cargo bay revealed itself to contain heaps of dry grain, but Stanning and Rowlan were both unperturbed. A second wave of their wand began vanishing away the grain. Rowlan struck gold when one of his Vanishing Spells finally revealed literal gold, galleons.

"We struck it good, lad," Rowlan grinned.

Stanning gave a chuckle of his own as they continued vanishing the rest of the unnecessary grain. Their spirits rose higher as more was revealed. Wands, poisons and cursed items. The Russians were right, there really was one big Black Mark shipment.

"Daily Prophet going to have a big day ain't it?" Rowlan chuckled hoarsely.

"So are we."

"Aye, true there."

Out of nowhere, Stanning sensed a presence behind them. Whirling around, he levelled his wand to find the Russian Aurors standing there listlessly, their blank black masks peering at them.

"Finally showed up now, have ya?" Rowlan snorted as he threw a quick glance before turning back to the Black Mark cargo.

"We were confident in your abilities," one of the Russians shrugged. "British Aurors don't play around after all, not many can lock a ship down with a whirlpool."

"And what were you guys doing?" Stanning asked.

"Securing the area in the event of enemy reinforcements," the Russian explained. "Besides that, what did you guys find?"

Rowlan gave the Russians a crooked smile, gesturing to the galleons and goods.

"Plenty."

The Russians made their way over to get a better view of the items, casting spells of their own to ensure the authenticity of the items. One of them hopped down into the cargo bay of the barge, riffling through the contents. He motioned his partner over and Stanning watched curiously as they began conversing in hushed Russian, effectively staving them out from the conversation.

"Anything interesting?" he inquired.

"Information for our end," the Russian grunted.

"Anything that concerns us?"

The Russian shook his head, giving the items a final glance before walking away, his partner behind him.

"That's our job done here," the Russian gave the British a curt nod. "Your part begins now, just remember what to do."

The British Aurors watched as the Russians disapparated away, leaving him behind. Stanning turned back to the cargo bay heaving a sigh of relief and satisfaction, he faced Rowlan and gave him a nod. Rowlan proceeded to take out a set of token, magically inscribing letters on them.

"Signal sent," Rowlan grunted. "The lads should be up here soon."

"Great," Stanning nodded. "Things are turning out well, don't you say."

"Definitely."

XXXXX

Daily Prophet

Largest bust on Black Mark thus far

In what has been the greatest blow towards the Black Mark, British Aurors have seized a large Black Mark shipment of illegal goods as well as galleons totaling up to three thousand.

Analysts from both British and Russian Magical Law Enforcement have concluded that the shipment was one of the many criminal supplies and merchandise snuck out from Russia when the syndicate had left Russia to evade prosecution. Illegal goods included poisons, volatile potions, cursed objects and wands that were most definitely meant for malicious intent.

Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour has emphasised the big impact of intercepting this big shipment of illegal goods.

"What our Aurors here have done had probably saved Britain from a year's worth of despair. The gold and items that the Black Mark were planning on using, providing or selling would have the potential for sustaining long lasting crime and terrorism. All of us here owe our lives to the Aurors watching over us."

And in this case, the credit belonged to two British Aurors that Britain owed a good night's sleep for. Isaac Stanning and Andrew Rowlan, who were the only Aurors in a regular all-British DMLE patrol caught the shipment of Black Mark goods in the middle of its journey. Despite lacking the backup from the Hit Wizards and MLEP attached to the patrol who were elsewhere, both men seized the opportunity and bravely assaulted the vessel used by the Black Mark, capturing five Black Mark members in the process.

"It was an at the moment decision," explained Auror Isaac Stanning. "We all learned this from our BAT (Basic Auror Training), there will be times when you just have to rush in without support because that's the only window you get, no time for hesitation. Rowlan and I spotted it (the Black Mark shipment) and we knew there wasn't enough time to call for backup, the only thing we could rely on was our training and skills."

Continued on page 3

XXXXX

Stanning walked out to the lobby of the Ministry, savouring the looks of admiration that the people were giving him. More importantly, he savoured the promotion he and Rowlan were given for the deeds done. It was a huge jump as an Auror Sergeant to be fast tracked into the MLE Officer Course. The promotion came just in time for the next batch of cadets to enter in a week. In three months, he would be fresh from the course as an Auror Lieutenant. And if things kept on going, he would hopefully attain the rank of Captain by the next summer. Rowlan jumped from Lieutenant to Captain already.

Amelia Bones did protest to the rapid promotion, saying that one exemplary job was not grounds for such a jump and that he and Rowlan did break protocol by not reporting the situation and calling for reinforcements when the Black Mark shipment was sighted. However, Scrimgeour always protected his Aurors when they did a good job and the people loved a hero. Bones relented and the promotion was approved. An entire Auror Section at his disposal, the promotion tasted so sweet.

Heading to the designated Apparition point, Stanning twisted on the spot and disapparated, ending up in the outskirts of Dover. Walking for a good distance, he disapparated once more to Portsmouth. This process repeated until he was sure he was not followed. The final stop ended up in Edinburgh, Stanning looked at the unassuming, squat office building in front of him.

Crossing the street filled with the humdrum movement of traffic, he entered the building. Several flights of stairs took him to the top floor of the building, the elevator seemed to be nowhere in sight. He looked around at the glances thrown at him by the people there. He was an outsider, no doubt about that. At the end of the hallway was a room, a dark oaken door awaited him.

Stanning did not hesitate and he made his way confidently to the door, giving two soft knocks. A crisp, clear and commanding voice answered the knock.

"Enter."

One word, and Stanning could tell this man garnered more respect than the current British Minister. It suited him perfectly, he did not wish to follow weak men. Stanning turned the knob and opened the door, taking a step in and closing it behind him. He surveyed the room, it was simple and pragmatic. Books, documents and magical equipment, very much unlike the lavish decor he had seen in many of the offices in the Ministry.

The man seated behind the table was looking at him expectantly. He had streaks of grey in his otherwise dark hair, he stature was unimpressive, slouching on his seat. But behind the square glasses were dark eyes that appeared to peer into souls, a gleam of clever wit and viciousness danced ever so wildly in the pupils. From a distance, Stanning could tell that this man would not seem like much but conversing with him up close would be a whole different story.

"Hello," Stanning spoke first.

"A pleasure to see you too," the man gestured to the seat in front of him. He reached for the bottle by the table and poured two generous amounts of amber liquid into glasses, pushing one to Stanning. "Scotch?"

"Muggle liquor?" Stanning raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What's the occasion?"

"A small gift," the man smiled. "In the Muggle news, Edinburgh and St Petersburg just became sister cities recently and this was a small token of goodwill from the Scots."

Stanning took the glass, mentally noting down another of the man's eccentricities.

"I heard you have been promoted, your thoughts?"

"Power feels good," Stanning chuckled. "And I suppose I owe you more than just a thanks. You held your end of the bargain very well, what do I do now?"

"Network."

"Please elaborate," Stanning took a sip of the Scotch.

"You'll be entering the MLE Officer Course soon," the man explained. "A new generation of officers for the British Magical Law Enforcement, build relations, find like minded or sympathetic people, network."

"Very well," Stanning drained the last of the liquor, setting it back down on the table. "Once I do my end, what next?"

"Once you do your end," said the man. "I'll see to it you attain the rank of Captain this time next year."

"A sound deal," Stanning smiled. "Anything for me?"

The man took out a folder and passed it to Stanning.

"These will be your fellow cadets in the MLE Officer Course, do take time to know them well before networking. That will be all for the time being, we can meet up another time or I'll send the usual contacts."

Stanning stood up from his seat, taking his leave.

"It's good working with you, Leo."

XXXXX

"Really now, Vergilius, a tour around Europe? Why in Merlin's name would you do that?"

Vergilius suppressed a sigh as he methodically packed his luggage, folding and arranging all the items he would need for the journey.

"Like I said mother," said Vergilius. "I need to clear my head, and I feel that taking a jaunt outside Britain would do just that."

"Then I'm glad," Vergilius could see the wan smile on his mother's face in the mirror. "It's about time you started growing up and acted your status. Why did you even work at the Ministry your father and I could never figure out. Wasting all that time in a fixed job like some common peasant where instead you could-"

"Mother, save that talk for when I return shall we?" Vergilius plastered a small smile on his face.

"Of course, your father would like to see you off. And your brother too I expect."

Vergilius cringed inwardly, he had hoped to leave without seeing his father at all. Shutting his suitcase, he picked it up and made his way down the stairs of the manor. At the door stood his father, tall, proud and scornful. He loomed over Vergilius, inspecting him for something. Finally, he opened the door and gave him a curt nod.

"About time, son. Seven years late, but at least you scraped up some form of dignity. I remember touring Europe myself when I just graduated from Hogwarts, that's how I met your mother."

His father handed him a letter, Vergilius took it and inspected it, looking at the seal of his house.

"What's this?"

"A list of courts and noble families I would like you to visit to build connections and a list of eligible ladies, it is about time you get married."

"Of course," Vergilius slid the letter into his coat. "Will that be all father?"

"You are expected to act according to your status and stop bringing shame to the family name. Hopefully, by the time you returned, you would have gained enough sense to stop sinking so low as to work in the Ministry. They serve us, not the other way around."

"Understood," Vergilius grunted, stepping out of the manor.

"Goodbye, brother!" a younger carbon copy of himself waved at him with a graceful smile. "Safe travels!"

Vergilius raised a hand in return before apparating to London, he headed over to a small run-down building, walking down the bombed streets. It was just a few blocks away from the Ministry, and as Vergilius stepped through it, he was greeted with a lively sight. Wizards and witches milled about, their skin and clothing from all corners of the world. Rows of benches lined up in front of multiple counters. Above the counters was a gigantic world map, lines and dots appearing and disappearing

Vergilius paid attention to the large boards flanking the map. Levitating chalks and dusters roamed over the board, erasing and updating lines of information. His eyes honed in on the board with the word 'Departure' written on the top. Slowly he filtered down the lines until he reached 'London-Athens: 14:00 Bay 3'. No hitches in the schedule.

Making his way past the counters where there were queues for tickets, he reached the security checkpoint. A Sneakoscope stood listlessly at a corner of the checkpoint, a guard holding a Secrecy Sensor began sweeping over Vergilius and his luggage. The device began humming when it passed over his neck, causing raised eyebrows.

"Anything to declare there?" one of the guards asked, his arm reaching for his wand.

"Nothing of your concern really," said Vergilius coolly. "But since it's for the sake of security."

He reached his hand to high-collared robes, pulling the collar down to reveal a mark. The guards all jerked back and stood at attention, save for one young guard who looked in confusion.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing at all, sir. You're clear, you may proceed. Your ticket?"

Vergilius passed the guard his prearranged ticket, who examined it swiftly.

"Once you're past immigration, Bay 3 is just down that hallway, second door on the left," the guard pointed as he passed Vergilius back his ticket.

"Thank you."

"Oh, it's nothing really. An honour to serve."

Vergilius checked his pocket watch, twenty minutes to spare. A quick stamping of his passport and Vergilius followed the guard's directions. Entering the mentioned door, he was greeted with benches once more, one on each side of the room. There were already a few people there waiting. Ignoring the armchairs reserved for the aristocracy, he sat down on the benches and waited patiently.

When it was approaching two o'clock, a wizard in a pinstriped uniform brought a length of rope and tied it to poles in the middle of the room, between the benches. Everyone stood up and made their way to the rope, grabbing onto it. A large gong sounded, signalling two o'clock and Vergilius felt the sensation of a hook pulling his navel.

In a whirling blink of an eye, Vergilius ended up in another room, this one without benches and a different decor on the walls. Looking around, he was the only one firmly planted on his feet, the others were stumbling on the spot. Exiting the room, he could see the sign at the end of the hallway.

Καλως ηρθες στην ΕΛΛΑΔΑ

Welcome to Greece

He took out the letter his father had passed him, skimming the lines written on it before setting it ablaze with his wand. Stretching his arms, picking up his suitcase and heaving a big breath, he made his way out of the building, squinting at the Mediterranean sun. And so began his tour.

Naturally, he chose to start in Greece, the supposed cradle of European civilisation. A quick check in at a Muggle hotel to drop his suitcase and he was off. The Acropolis and the various temples within - both Muggle and Wizarding - grabbed his interest. From there he made his way west, dropping by Delphi to visit the famed Oracle of Delphi.

Once he had his fill of Greece, he journeyed further west to Italy, the roots of the renowned Roman Empire. After all, his name Vergilius came from the Romans, it was only respectful to add Rome into his travel itinerary. And magic, the magic that Europe had used were grounded on Latin, the language of the Romans. With his love for the inner workings of magic, Vergilius was never going to skip out on visiting Rome and one of Wizarding Europe's greatest libraries, the Vatican Apostolic Library. Unbeknownst to the Muggles, there were entire sections hidden away and magically expanded to include various tomes on magic collected from around the world. Vergilius spent a full week in the library, reading up book after book, glad that his status had granted him access.

Following that was a trip to Urbino, the library there was on par with the Vatican, but the remnants of the magical mercenary company stationed there were the true attraction for Vergilius. They were ceremonial now, a far cry from the golden days of the Renaissance under the helm of Federico da Montefeltro, whose true success aside from his strategic genius was his core of wizarding shock troops - never mentioned in the Muggle history books - that were never matched by any other condottieri who employed wizards.

Within the magical district of Urbino just outside the Ducal Palace, he watched two ceremonial mercenaries standing at attention by the door to the magical portion of the Ducal Palace. The rest of Europe's Aurors and Hit Wizards were modelled from them, dragonhide gear, a standardised set of healing potions and a backup wand. Tactics of volley casting, offensive Apparition and pure wizarding shock units also came from them. Wizards whose role in the battlefield was once defensive in nature, providing support to the unit of Muggle soldiers he was attached to, turned into an offensive nature, forming a team solely made of wizards to utilise Apparition to wholesale outflank the enemy before laying down a barrage of spells. The Urbino wizards ushered forth what was now considered modern wizarding warfare, especially so when the International Statute of Secrecy was implemented in 1692, cutting off any joint warfare with Muggles.

Nearly two hundred years since the last war where wizards and Muggles fought together, ending with the Battle of Barfleur where Charles the Mad set ablaze the French ships with Fiendfyre. And more than four hundred years since the peak of the Urbino mercenaries where modern wizarding warfare was based from. In fact, the Wizarding world had yet to be involved in an international conflict since the Nine Years' War.

Vergilius knew the Muggles have changed plenty in these centuries, pike and shot of the Renaissance have changed to rifles and machine guns. Having never taken Muggle Studies, Vergilius listened to the debates that took place in the corridors of the Ministry as to whether or not these advancements in Muggle technology were dangerous. Since Muggleborns were prohibited from participating in the front lines, Vergilius knew that there was no clear view on the capabilities of Muggle warfare. France was next on his itinerary and the front lines of the Muggle war would be his destination.

Vergilius knew that the ICW had marked out the Muggle front lines as a prohibited zone, but he had no qualms about sneaking in. In fact, sneaking past the shoddy wards had been set up was exceedingly easy. They acted more as a deterrent than an actual way to prevent intruding wizards and it was part of Vergilius' job and skillset to excel at infiltration. In fact, it took Vergilius by surprise when a strong Finite Incantatem was able to erase off the majority of the wards before he had to start using more refined methods of cracking the wards. An escape portkey as a safety precaution and Vergilius began trekking through the hills that would take him to the battlefield.

Even from a distance away, Vergilius could feel and hear the rumble of what he could only assume to be cannons. Cresting the ridge he was trekking up, Vergilius widened his eyes in shock as the sight before him. The entire land before him looked dead, as though death itself had graced the soil with its touch, giving blight to the land. There was no grass, only churned mud and what little trees that were if were withered and blackened. In the distance, Vergilius could make out trenches snaking around the land, linking up to form a vast network. He could see the explosions peppering the trenches, great heaps of dirt flying into the air. But what befuddled him was the absence of any cannons.

"Halt, who goes there?"

A gruff voice broke his concentration and he looked around to see a rugged Muggle soldier aiming a rifle at him.

"You're a soldier?" Vergilius eyed him with great curiosity.

"You're in no position to ask questions here," the soldier barked. "You a spy?"

"Imperio."

Vergilius watched as the soldier's eyes glazed over before jerking up as if he had just woken up.

"Sir," the soldier snapped into attention, giving Vergilius a salute.

Vergilius waved off the salute, ordering him to come over. The soldier complied, kneeling on the soil beside him and watching over the battlefield.

"Who are you? What are you doing over here?" Vergilius asked.

"Private Lewis Scott from the 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers, Charlie Company, sir," the Muggle replied. "I'm doing a routine patrol."

"Explain to me what's going on here," Vergilius pointed to the trenches in the distance.

"Enemy bombardment, sir."

"Then where are the enemy cannons?" Vergilius asked, trying to spot the bronze-coloured tubes of metal as they were depicted in the books he had seen. "I can't see any of them."

"Oh, you won't be able to, sir," the Muggle chuckled. "The Fritz have their field guns hidden behind the hills away from sight."

"That hill over there?" Vergilius pointed at one of the many hills over the area.

"Wouldn't know, sir," the man shrugged. "If we did, our 18-pounders would have already been firing away at their location. But it's a possibility."

"That must be what? At least four kilometres away," Vergilius squinted, gauging the distance. "And without a line of sight? How is that even possible? Much too far."

"Four kilometres is nothing for a field gun, sir," the soldier laughed. "They can fire up to eight kilometres without a problem. They don't need to see you, they just need to know your location."

Vergilius looked at the man incredulously before staring back at the battlefield in disbelief. The damage dealt was no surprise to Vergilius, he did not doubt that he could muster up the same destruction with Fiendfyre and some explosive spells, the famed Albus Dumbledore could probably do more. But the range, the range was the information that shocked Vergilius to the core. No duelling spell in the world had a range of eight kilometres and the Muggles did this without magic.

He knew he was crazy but he had to see this up close. Casting a Notice-Me-Not Charm on himself he ordered the soldier to guide him to the trenches, casting Confundus Charms on anyone who stopped them. The earth beneath him shook as the shells fell around him. Vergilius grimaced, it had been too long since the Wizarding world was at war or conflict. They were out of touch and woefully unprepared for the next Dark Lord who would rise. And with the many lines of segregation in the Wizarding world, there were many opportunities.

"Keep your head down, sir," the soldier pulled at Vergilius' robes.

Vergilius complied but glared at the soldier nonetheless.

"The enemy trench is four hundred metres away," said Vergilius.

"And a good sniper could hit you from twice that distance," the soldier replied. "You'll die without hearing or seeing your death."

Vergilius gave an involuntary shiver at just how far the Muggles had progressed, maybe Muggle Studies in Hogwarts was worth something after all, if they even covered this. No, he doubted that Muggle Studies covered this, Muggleborns joined the Wizarding world at the age of eleven and spent three quarters of their seven years isolated in Hogwarts. Young and impressionable, they would leave most of their Muggle roots behind and contemporary warfare would never be part of their Muggle roots, too young, it was why most of the Muggleborns assimilated into the Wizarding world. The Muggleborns who wrote the Muggle Studies textbook might not even give much information.

"How far can a rifle fire?" Vergilius asked curiously, looking around at the subhuman living conditions of the trenches and the rifles every single one of the grimy soldiers carried.

"The Smelly I'm carrying here is good up to five hundred metres," the soldier lifted his service rifle to give Vergilius a good view. "But normally two hundred metres is when you start firing accurate shots. Then again, I've heard Richard say he nicked a Fritz from a kilometre and a half away. But then again, he's a tosser."

Vergilius grimaced, he knew what a rifle did. It was simple, crude and hardly impressive, he learned spells that did more damage in his fifth year at Hogwarts. But despite all the superiority of magic - magic that he was fond of and proud of - he knew that when it came to the machines of war, wizards could never beat Muggles in range and precision. One of the hallmarks of a great duelist was their aim, a master duelist could hit a fast moving target a hundred metres away in rapid succession, turning the simplest of spells into dangerous threats. Mere mortals have their effective range restricted to half of that. All known usual dueling spells fizzle out at two hundred metres, if they were powerful.

Within a hundred metres, give me a wand and I'll give them hell. Beyond that, give me a Muggle weapon or I'm the one going to hell.

Muggles had changed a lot, Vergilius knew the answer to those debates in the Ministry corridors, Muggle advancement was dangerous. If wizards were to ever join a Muggle battle, it would be very different from the golden days of the Urbino mercenaries. Wizards would no longer have the privilege of striking from a distance with spells while the pikemen brawl in the fields. On the contrary, it would be the wizards who have to fight in close quarters while Muggles fire their weapons from a distance. The only tide turners wizards would have were Apparition and wards - though he had yet to test the effect of Muggle weapons on wards. If these trump cards were nullified or if a wizard was taken by surprise before being able to levy these advantages, Muggle weapons might just win from a distance.

Vergilius knew that if the Statute of Secrecy was ever compromised, diplomacy had to be the immediate measure. But knowing the growing popularity of Blood Purity, diplomacy would fail. If it came to fire and brimstone, the Wizarding world would have to adapt. Adapt hard and adapt fast.

AN: I always found duelling to be very short range. Imagine taking a laser pointer and tagging a human-sized object one hundred metres away on the first try the moment you switched it on, then add those wand movements you find on the Harry Potter wiki. Never tried it, but I'd imagine it to be hard. But then again, magic is still undeniably powerful, transfigured golems(like in the Battle of Hogwarts), Shield Charms and Blasting Curses against a gun in close range, choice is obivious. As always, reviews motivates me plenty :)