A/N: Well, it may have taken a bit over a month, but hey here's a new chapter for all you loyal readers. In case any of you care, I did successfully pass all my exams to get my teacher's license so in a couple months, I'll be officially certified! I'm still in graduate school, and have a butt ton of classes over the summer unfortunately, but I'll still try to get chapters as quickly as I can! Thanks so much for your patience and please be sure to Follow, Favorite, and Review!

Chapter XVIII: The Horrors of War

(Michael P.O.V)

It was cold when Michael and his troupe arrived on the bank of the River Trent. The Ministry employed many safe-houses for quick transportation via floo, but few rested between the lands of Leicester and Nottingham. Michael's quads burned from the distance they'd marched, but there was no time to complain. It was war. Most sane men considered it far from pleasant. He'd once read of a soldier in the Union Army by the name of William Sherman that had given the raving review of war: War is Hell, Michael couldn't help but agree.

His chest had developed a permanent tightness. Every time he'd looked at his comrades, he etched their faces into his mind. It could have well been the last time he'd ever see them smile... or breathe. The tightness only grew at the position of command. Harry trusted him, it was an honor that went without explaining, but the task ate at him. He worked better alone or with Harry and better with Claire. Neither stood in his ranks now. Worse, he walked around with an international incident waiting to happen at his back. Damyan seemed decent by all measures, but Michael's stomach twisted at the sight of him. Decent was the last thing they needed on the battlefield.

For an approaching summer, the wind was bitterly cold. Michael wrapped his jacket around himself with a white-knuckled grip. His eyes roamed the dark horizon for figures cloaked in the night but found his eyes constantly on the werewolf for hints of danger. Tracey splashed cold water from the river across her face and filled her bottle with haste. The thirst among his company was severe, and he couldn't blame them. Michael felt he could drink the whole river dry, but even the idea of his eyes leaving the horizon halted him from kneeling.

Another cold gust battered them, and Michael bit back a curse. The chill in the air grew worse when Remus's body stiffened like a wooden board. "We need to hide," Remus hissed, "Three people are on their way here. Hide, now!"

In an instant, the exhaustion shattered from his body like fallen ice. Damyan stood idly like a deer in headlights, the shock of the sudden change etched on his face. Michael grabbed his wrist, threw him into the large growth of plants on the riverbank, and dove after him. Michael's hand cupped Damyan's mouth to stop the gasp and held his finger to his lips. The Bulgarian wizard's eyes sank with shame. He nodded softly, and cautiously, the blue-haired boy moved his hand. The two boys held their breath. Damyan's eyes sat firmly on the river bank as Michael searched through the grass for any sign of his group. Either they'd done a fantastic job of hiding, or they'd gotten captured beneath his nose. Michael prayed for the former.

Their breaths hung shallow. Michael's eyes strained from the forced night vision, unwilling to cast any magic lest they be spotted. Suddenly, the vegetation to their left began to shake. Michael reached steadily for his wand, and Damyan followed suit. Then, figures emerged; small figures. Michael wagered the three forms were no older than eight years old. His ears perked at their hushed, rapid whispers.

"Hurry, Mary, we have to bring back the water." The girl at the front of the group hissed. "We need to get mom fresh water! If she drinks the bad stuff our brother isn't going to be born healthy."

"I know," The girl named Mary sniffled, "I know Jane, I'm just... I'm scared. If we get caught, they'll-"

"We're not going to get caught," the third of the trio said softly. "Mary and I have done this so many times. They don't come looking for us out here. If they were going to catch us, they'd have done it when we left the city. They don't think anyone could have made it this far."

"Okay, Hannah, I- I'm coming," The girl forced her tears back and pulled herself free from the safety of the green vegetation and into the exposed riverbank.

Michael lowered his wand. He pushed Damyan's wrist down and looked on at the young sisters. They were only kids, but their words held no mystery. The war had left its mark here without a doubt. Damyan looked to him, his brow tightly knit, "They're only kids. Not even old enough to have wands if they're even witches in the first place."

"Yeah, and it sounds to me like the bastards we're fighting is making the people who live in those occupied territories a living hell," Michael snarled. "Modern-day and these girls have to sneak out to try and get fresh water to survive. What the fuck must be going on behind closed doors?"

"They look so scared. But I mean, the rules of engagement say that you can't kill innocent children," Damyan said wistfully, "They wouldn't-"

"You have no idea what they'd do," Michael sighed. "We aren't fighting a war against men. We're fighting monsters."

Michael's eyes held steady on the children as they filled their barrels to the brim with water. He frowned at how the girls tried and failed to hoist the heavy barrels up, unable to handle the weight. A darkened glance ripped through the three of them. The idea of discarding some of their needed water brought tears to the youngest of the trio's eyes. Michael's fingers dragged themselves through the dirt as his mother's words rattled in his head.

You're a good kid, Michael, His mother's distant voice whispered. "Fuck it," He hissed and wormed his wait out of the vegetation. A panicked yelp left Mary's lips, but Michael silenced it with a wave of his wand. "Relax, please, I'm not one of the people that attacked your town. I'm just here to help."

Jane stepped forward, an old beat-up wand in her hand. So they are witches, Michael thought. "We've heard that before. That you're here to help, then the next second you're draining us of our blood and throwing the bodies into our water supply," Jane hissed.

"If you three are witches, why don't you just conjure water instead of risking your safety out here?" Michael asked.

"You can conjure water?" Jane said, the anger withdrawn from her voice, replaced with a desperate curiosity. Michael blinked at the surprise in the young girl's voice. "Wait," Jane murmured, "That would explain how old man Thomas is doing just fine without having to sneak out. He can do magic too."

"Yeah," Michael said, "It's a really easy spell. I'm surprised nobody has taught you all how to do it given the circumstances. It's not like the ministry's able to enforce underage magic abuses anyway."

"A Ministry?" Jane stammered, "There's a whole Ministry of people like me? Are they strong? Are they coming to help us?"

"Wait a minute," Michael said hoarsely, "Kid, can your parents do magic?"

"No, I'm the only one in my family that can do it," Jane said. She lifted her wand and gripped the wood tightly, "That's why it's my job to keep my family safe from those other jerks who can use it."

Softly, footsteps began to echo around him, and a heavy sigh overcame him as his troupe came back into view. Jane stumbled back, just barely catching herself from falling into the icy river. Michael sent the girl a soft smile, and she glanced at him narrowly. "They're my friends. From what I understand, it looks to me like we have the same enemies. You asked about the Ministry. Truth be told, they are in bad shape and probably aren't going to be able to help anytime soon. That's why we're here."

"You're not even an adult, what can you do about to help us?" Jane asked.

"Well that depends on what the situation is," Michael said. "But, I will say, I think you've proven yourself that you don't need to be an adult to do something about your situation. We're members of the Order of the Phoenix. Please, tell us what's going on at your home."

Michael's face hardened with every word the girls spilled about the chaos that overcame their home. Michael doubted the girls even realized the truth of what they were saying, but the forced Darwinism of Death Eaters and vampires hadn't missed him. Those with magic would survive the harsh new climate; those without it would die and become food for the vampires. Their talk about the sentries kept muggles locked away, and all electricity had been destroyed during the carnage. Communication lines were down, and all that awaited those under Voldemort's control was suffering.

Sirius held Jane close, her hardened shell cracking to reveal the frightened child beneath it. Michael felt only fire course throughout his body. Holding territory was part of wars, having P.O.W.s was part of war, famished and parched citizens were part of war. Knowing all of that didn't change the anger the pounded in his skull. Michael bent down to meet the girls face to face. He'd not noticed the gaunt and starved faces in the darkness, but the pain in their eyes was clear to see. "I'm going to make your town a place where you can eat and drink as much as you want. Just hang on a little longer and leave it to us."

Michael searched his group for any disagreement but found none. "Alright, let's go."

"Right," The crowd shouted in unison.

(Sirius P.O.V)

The young girl gripped Sirius like he was a lifeboat in a vast ocean. Her tears bled through his shirt, and a thick poison filled every cell in his body at the girl's plea for somebody to save her family. War was a horrible thing, and no child deserved to suffer its many pains. Sirius couldn't say it never annoyed him to have a teenager give him orders, but the reason behind Harry's trust in the Ravenclaw was apparent. Michael was the last person to turn his back on true suffering.

He followed the blue-haired boy to the sandy shore of the river bank. Swiftly, Michael plunged his wand into the sand and begun his diagram. "Okay, so here's what we know. The vampires have established a barrier to keep them safe during the day above this small unmarked village. Within this village, there are squibs, muggles, and wizards. Voldemort's forces are most likely using a similar natural selection strategy in all their occupied territories. Most likely because if they win, they plan to do this to the world at large. This barrier they've established also allows the vampires to be alerted if anyone breaks in or out. However, it does not account for the girls' underground tunnel system to sneak in and out of their village. So here's how we're going to do this. Myself, Sirius, and Remus are going to head into the barrier to raise alarms. The bastards will focus on us, and in the meantime, Tracey, Blaise, and Damyan, you take the girls' tunnel entrance and try to convince this Thomas bastard to let us use his floo to evacuate people to the London Ministry. Knowing that he didn't share his water supply with the people shows us we're dealing with a real piece of work. If he doesn't cooperate, do what you have to do and get these people to safety."

"What if he doesn't have a floo?" Blaise asked. "Then what?"

"We liberate the city the old fashion way," Sirius said. "We make them feel the Order's power." Michael nodded at his words, and Sirius turned back to look at the girls. "When are we moving out. I have some anger to work through."

"You and me both," Michael said. He looked over the troupe and sighed, "This is dangerous, but it's what we signed up to do. Does everyone understand what their orders are." Sirius followed each of the platoon's head nods and followed suit. "Good, now let's move."

Sirius took note of the moments the two groups had split, but he cared for very little besides the pain in the eyes of the war-torn children. The sickness that swirled in his stomach at the notion that it could have just as easily been his own son in a position like that drove him forward. No exhaustion cursed his body. A fire in the furnace of his heart moved him without hesitation, and there was little need to wait to figure out where to go. The putrid dark red bubble that glowed in the distance was all the direction he needed.

Remus gripped his shoulder. Lightning crackled in his eyes, but there was control over it. He nodded; he knew he needed to cool down. Irrational, unguided anger would get him killed. It needed to be focused and precise. This invasion wasn't a game with no consequence; his life hung in the balance, every move mattered. His mind briefly wandered to thoughts of Emmeline, of James, of Harry. Today would not be the day he died. That was absolute.

The barrier swirled with magic that made Sirius sick to his stomach. It reeked of rotten cheese and sent shivers down his spine with every pulsation. Remus pinched his nose and noted a scent of rotten flesh beyond the barrier. The dead, both raised and discarded, sat at the other end of this blood-filled gate in a hell beyond Sirius' imagination. He turned to the Ravenclaw, who studied the barrier with care, his wand aimed at the bubble.

Snap! From the boy's belted satchel, his armor woven with bimetal alchemical thread strapped itself tightly to his frame until the wizard looked like a thinly armored knight. A blue hue radiated from his palm, and with a heavy swallow, Michael turned back towards him. "Ready," Michael asked with a forced steadiness to his voice.

"Lead the way," Remus said calmly.

"Let's go wild," Sirius added with a devilish grin.

A bone-chilling cold overcame them the moment they passed through the barrier. Sirius' breath froze to mist before him, and he bit his lip to halt his chattering teeth. It might have been the only thing that held back his gasp at what laid before him as well. Sirius had seen war. He'd seen destruction. But this was a sight foreign to him. Drained bodies hung from wooden support beams that used to hold up houses. Torn corpses littered the redden streets, and tormented screams rippled through the air.

"Didn't the girls say there was a village here before?" Sirius said, his mouth dry with the ash of burning houses. "What the hell is going on?"

From his right, a bright red cloud slammed into him. A grunt ripped itself from his throat as the mist-made form pummeled him through fire-weakened walls. "Bombarda!" Sirius barked, the mist hissing before it dropped him to the ground with an unceremonious thud.

Sirius scrambled to his feet, his hand wrapped around his wand. The rest mist descended like a dark cloud and manifested into a demented-looking man with shimmering white hair and eyes as yellow as mustard. "I'm assuming you're the one that took me on that you ride just now," Sirius said.

The yellow-eyed creep laughed and brandished his red-stained wand. From the tip of the vampire's wand erupted a hose of flames. Sirius shielded himself just before the fire kissed his nose. Had it not been aimed from a weapon intended to kill him, Sirius may have even appreciated the heat in the frosty night. The fire grew hotter, and sweat beat down Sirius' brow as the blast of flames pushed him back against the dirt road. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a stone pillar and rolled out of the wand's focus just as the fire ruptured the rock.

Sirius panted and lifted his wand before shooting a barrage of arrows at the twisted man. Howls of agony came from the vampire, but Sirius wasn't through. "Expand!" Sirius bellowed and watched as the light of the arrows grew brighter until finally, the man screamed no more. "Fuck," Sirius whispered, "One down, God knows how many to go."

New fire, this time of a blue variety, sparked across the town. Sirius had hoped to gather some answers from the last maniac, but the vampire had not been keen on talking. His body pounded from his journey through several burned-down houses. The fire had weakened the wood, but the surprise tackle had left him off balance and in pain. Best he could, Sirius moved towards the latest blue explosion in the distance.

A thin stream of blood trickled down his palm from his grasp on his wand. Every heard movement made his breath stop in his chest. The walk couldn't have been more than a few kilometers, but Sirius had lost count of the number of bodies strewn across the village. How could something have happened on such short notice?

The question plagued him like an illness, but each time he forced it from his mind. There was no use in asking such a thing at a time like this. A need blood mist form hovered above him, and Sirius steadied his stance. To the mist's credit, it didn't try to force the sneak attack. Softly the red cloud descended and materialized into human form. Much like the last one, he too had silver hair, though his eyes radiated a bloodshot red.

The vampire smiled, and Sirius jumped back for distance. The vampire made no movement for his wand or looked to cast any magic at all. Rather, it bowed. "Sirius Black, I presume," the vampire said softly, in a voice like that of a storybook king, "The name is Soma, Soma Vermillion. I saw what you did to my compatriot back there and I must say, you've peaked my interest."

The vampire licked his lips with a tongue redder than any Sirius had ever seen. "Tell me, what do you think of my work in this little village here? I believe that Carmilla will be pleased, wouldn't you agree? After all, the system I created here was almost perfect."

"You were the one who did this?" Sirius spat.

"But of course, not on my own mind you, I've never been one for hard labor, but the idea was all mine." Soma smiled, "You see, I love my queen dearly. I know that she must work with that undesirable specimen of a man in Voldemort to achieve a better reality for us night creatures. One such agreement of their alliance was the growth of a magic majority, but how can one assure such a thing? That's where I come in."

Soma glanced at the carnage with a face-splitting smile, "Tell me, isn't it glorious? First, cut off the food supply and pollute traditional water supplies. Then watch those without magic suffer until they come begging on their hands and knees for those with the magical means to save them. In just a few days, I turned a hidden minority into gods! Now they get to decide who lives and dies. Or rather, they would have, had a few rotten girls not spoiled my fun by breaking the rules."

"I truly can't understand it," Soma shrugged. "One of the little bitches even had access to magic. All she had to do was learn. Instead, she thought she could sneak away without me knowing. Because she was magical, I allowed her a few chances to correct her behavior, but alas, some people never learn. I can't wait to see the look on their faces when I drink their mother dry for their insubordination."

"Reducto!" Sirius thundered. Soma shifted just out of the way of the blue bolt. "You bastard! They're just children! How could you do this?"

"Hmm, it appears I've touched a nerve," Soma said. "I truly do apologize. I've meant you no insult. From what I gather you are from quite a prestigious bloodline yourself. I'm sure Carmilla could find a means of sparing you if you came on as a commander under me. She's always had a soft spot for me."

"I am going to splatter you across the walls of this village until you look the like the people you've massacred you son of a bitch," Sirius said. "Taltura!"

A black wave of energy split through the air in a blink of an eye. Soma leaned back and ducked beneath the wave before rolling back up full height. "Tsk, unfortunate." A red glow glistened at the top of the vampire's long-nailed finger, and with a slash in the air, blood gushed from Sirius' chest. Sirius rolled back with a bitter shout. Blood swam from his veins and stained his clothes rapidly adding to the coldness of the outside air. "It's unfortunate you're so hot headed. You would have made a great second in my ranks."

"What did you do to me?" Sirius hissed, his mind reeling from the burning in his chest.

"Ah, that," Soma said. "Just some blood magic secret to my family, and of course, our queen. I wouldn't worry about that much, you'll be dead soon any way. If you have a message to pass along to anyone, I'll be glad to deliver it before I kill them too."

"Rot in hell," Sirius said his mind filling with a thick fog. Soma only shrugged and lifted his finger. The still wet blood levitated around Sirius and took the form of arrows.
"Suit yourself," Soma said. "Now if I recall, you did something like this to my companion. Then, once you punctured him you made them expand. Well that seems simple enough. I figure this is a good enough way to honor that man's memory. Farewell, Sirius Black."

"James, Emmeline,"Sirius whispered into the ground, "Forgive me."

Through his blurry vision, he saw the red figments hover above him. He sealed his eyes shut and smiled, "Looks like I'll be seeing you soon, little brother." He prepped himself and waited, but the pain never came. A scream echoed in his ears and a new heat surrounded him like a blanket. He forced himself to look up but the view confused him. Little more than two veils or red and blue stood before him, but the blue-figure's voice confirmed his guess.

"Harry asked me to make sure nobody died on this mission," Michael said. "I'd never be able to look at him if I let his godfather die. We've dealt with a lot of the weaker grunts, but I could sense this guys magic from the moment we entered here. He's the one in charge I'm guessing?"

Sirius nodded weakly as Remus hovered over him, the werewolf's wand pressed to his wounds. "Watch yourself, Corner. He's got a unique form of blood magic. I think- I think he can make your blood rupture from the inside."

"So you figured it out," Soma laughed. "You know, I didn't think you were the brightest crayon in the box, but look at you! Unfortunately, I can't let you go around spilling my secrets so-," The red form bolted towards them like a bullet. Suddenly, the figure froze just inches from Remus' face. "I- I can't move."

"Sapphire amped freezing charm," Michael huffed. "You're fighting me, and I don't like to share." The Ravenclaw turned to Sirius and Remus and made what Sirius interpreted as a smile, "Get him out of here, Professor. I'll handle blood-boy from here."

(Daphne P.O.V)

Daphne laid motionless on the stone floor. Her body screamed from the strain of the amplified gravity. The pain was only matched by the anger in her heart from the bored glance on Morgana's face. Daphne had lost count of the times the witch had compared her unfavorably to Harry. She grunted and forced her body up only to slam face down into the stone to unceremonious cracks and pops through her skeleton.

From the corner of her eye, Morgana yawned loudly. "Truly, Greengrass, is this all you are capable of? My crow handled far more than this within days of his training. I only took you in because you said you were serious about wanting to grow stronger, but if you're just wasting my time, I'm happy to exterminate you here."

"I am serious," Daphne hissed. "I just- I."

"I seriously cannot even fathom what could possibly be so interesting about you that my crow was so fixated on getting strong enough to protect you?" The ghost scratched her chin, "Are you a supremely good lover? Is that perhaps it? My crow said he admired your strength and brilliance, but frankly, I see nothing of the sort before me."

"Shut up!" Daphne roared. Magic pulsed through the room to punctuate her words and streams of tears raced down her cheeks. "I know that I'm not anything special like Harry. I know that I'm not as brilliant as Michael or Hermione. I'm not a healer at the caliber or my mentor and I wouldn't even say I'm close to best person in our group. I'm nothing worth writing home about at all! I don't need anyone else to tell me that! But my sister and the man I love need me to become better, they need me to become stronger. No matter what happens, I will not fail!"

If my body isn't strong enough to handle this in it's current state, then I just need to heal myself faster than this gravity chamber is doing damage. Everywhere my muscles are being torn, I'll focus on healing them. Distantly, she imagined herself observing her injuries. In her mind, she focused on the medial closing weaving pattern and focused it on her torn muscles. A gentle heat formed in her pain-filled shoulders and knees. By the second, the heat grew warmer and the pain faded. Her arms pressed into the stone floor of the chamber and with a yell that shook the black walls, Daphne stumbled to her feet.

Morgana looked at her with blank eyes. Daphne was unsure whether anger or confusion hid behind them, but with a pause in her frantic breathing she forced a smile to her lips. "I told you. Not matter what happens, I'm not going to fail."

Daphne had expected a sneer, a coy retort, or for the woman to send her back into the ground with a wave of her finger. What she hadn't expected was for the ghost to smile. "Fascinating. A self healing technique. With the strain it's putting on your core, I think you can maybe keep this up for another thirty seconds at most, but I must say, it was an impressive solution. Perhaps my crow was right about you being interesting. I suppose-"

The witch's words vanished as Daphne's vision turned blacked than night. All the strength in her body had fizzled out in an instant, and with a groan, she hit the floor.

A/N: Well I hope this chapter was a good reintroduction to this world. I think I've told you all that while my favorite character is Astoria, my second is Michael and I love it when I can give him chapters to shine. Also, Daphne coming to terms with her own doubts and overcoming them even to the surprise of Morgana was pretty great too! Let me know how you felt about this latest chapter and be sure to Follow, Favorite and Review if you enjoyed!