Well, here is chapter two. Let's start making some progress, shall we?

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o - o

"We are all broken and damaged, and we aren't quite fixed yet.

A lot of us have gone through hell, but you know what? We came back.

We came back stronger.

You know why? Because we are warriors.

And warriors fight."

-Unknown

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Across the Atlantic Ocean, deep in the Mount Greylock State Reservation of Massachusetts, Jonathan Sheppard Lionheart was running his was back to Ilvermorny School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had gotten up while it was still dark and raced to the bottom of the mountain to watch the sun rise over the fields just outside the small town of Cheshire.

It had been an unusually cold night for summer, and there was heavy dew on everything as the sun came up, causing fields of grass and wheat to glitter like glass in the morning. It was one of Jonathan's favorite things; a misty morning that seemed to glow. It was quiet and peaceful; something he once thought he would never get tired of.

As he followed the trail back up the mountain to Ilvermorny, though, he was struck with a sense of discontent. The peace he and so many others had fought for, the peace he was currently bathing in, also felt like a prison. He couldn't explain it, but he felt almost as if his life was… Over? Slipping away? It was as if his life had come to mean something, and now that meaning had been taken away.

The trail path began to get misty as he neared the entrance to the massive garden grounds of Ilvermorny. The mist was used as a way to hide the school from No-Maj eyes, and normally wizards and witches ignored it. Jon chose not to; the grey mist seemed to match his sudden mood shift. 'I should be jumping for joy, ecstatic for peace. The opportunities to do… Anything, are endless now.' And it was that exact thought that made Jon feel empty and lost.

He broke through the trailhead and came to a stop inside the massive grounds of Ilvermorny. In front of him was a massive garden complex; large rectangles of grass, surrounded by paths and garden beds, stretched for almost a quarter mile. A large marble fountain, surrounded by Greek pillars and walls sat in the middle, amazingly intact. Just to his right was a massive wooden coliseum that was the Ilvermorny Quidditch patch. Or rather, what was left of it.

Over half the patch was destroyed, and only one quarter of the outer wall still stood. Crashed in the center of the patch was a mangled and twisted twenty gun two-deck Snow Brig, the name "Purging" painted under her captain's quarters. Still hanging off her stern, waving lazily in the gentle breeze, was the flag of the Restorative Wizarding Army; a red flag with a white circle in the middle, and fifteen navy blue stars to represent the fifteen Pureblood families that started the war. Jonathan, still catching his breath, spat towards the ship.

Purging had been sent, along with some seven hundred wizards, in one last effort to capture Ilvermorny. It had turned out to be the last major battle of the war, and a decisive victory for the Continental Wizarding Army and Navy. The cost had been steep, though; six hundred and twelve of the R.W.A wizards were killed, the Purging destroyed, while almost four hundred C.W.A and Ilvermorny wizards and witches had died, and the U.S.S. Sagittarius had been brought to ground to keep her from being lost in the battle.

More toward the center of the gardens, the Sagittarius sat favoring her right side, her main mast broken and lying across the gardens. The Sagittarius was a twenty-four gun sixth-rate frigate that had been in the U.S. Wizarding Navy for some one hundred and fifty years. She had been most famous for keeping British and French wizarding troops from aiding either the Union of Confederacy in the American Civil War. After Ilivermorny's previous headmaster, Bartholomew Tharp had sent his patronus to call for help to save the school, Sagittarius was the first help to arrive, dispatching broom fighters and engaging the Purging in close combat. To the local towns of Massachusetts, a record lighting storm had occurred. To the wizards and witches that lived the battle, it was simply hell.

Jon walked up to the Sagittarius and ran his hands along her coppered bottom. Dents, scrapes, holes and even dried blood marred what was normally a polished and beautiful ship. He'd fought several battles under the shadow of the Sagittarius; it depressed him to see her in such bad shape. A poem he read once popped into his head. He started trying to piece it together in his head. "Through the travail of ages, midst the pomp and toils of war, have I fought and strove and perished. Many times upon this star."

He harrumphed, trying to recall more of the poem. "So as through a glass and darkly, the age long strife I see; where I fought in many guises, many names. But always me."

The sound of boots crunching through gravel caught his attention, and a deep voice started calling out the last prose of the poem. "So forever in the future shall I battle as of yore, dying to be bore a fighter but to die again once more!" Captain Roland Greywave came up to Jonathan and embraced him in a hug, three hard slaps on Jonathan's back. "General George S. Patton Jr. Strange that such a young wizard would be so familiar with No-Maj history and literature."

Jonathan returned the embrace. "I can't help it, the No-Maj world is fascinating. What are you doing here? When did you make Captain?"

Greywave pointed to the Sagittarius. "Navy Command gave me the Sagittarius. I'm here to oversee her repairs and get her back to North Brother Island in New York for refitting. We can't just leave her sitting in your school gardens, can we?"

Jonathan looked at Greywave's golden epaulets appreciatively. "Well, Captain looks good on you. They couldn't have given her to a better man." Now Captain Greywave, formerly a Lieutenant, had worked closely with Jonathan and the squad he'd been given command of the last year of the war; the Seventh Ranger Detachment. They had worked together in seven different engagements and had formed a sort of friendship; one based heavily on mutual respect for each other's accomplishments. After the Battle of Ilvermorny, they were close to the only ones left of their respective units. Greywave was only twenty-two.

Greywave clasped Jonathan by the shoulder. "Thank you. I hope to do her justice. How have you been? It's been months since we saw each other. Adjusting to academia well?"

Jonathan frowned. "Well… Not really, I don't think."

Greywave looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

Jonathan sighed. "Have you ever felt, since the war ended, like you don't know what you're doing? Like this crushing weight that you wanted so badly to be taken off you has finally been removed, but now you feel like you're floating in a void. Like you don't have any purpose."

Greywave started walking Jonathan towards the school itself. "Not personally, no. But I'm also a commissioned officer. My duty isn't done. You've been put back into school. Where a fifteen-year old belongs. You're not of age yet, Jonathan. You're still a kid."

"But I don't feel like a kid! I feel… Out of place. Older. Like a man trapped in a boys body. I've…" Jonathan swallowed, suddenly quiet. "I've lost almost everyone I've ever loved. I'm alone. And I'm told to just, go back to being a student. As if nothing's happened. School starts in a week and I'm losing my mind. I've met a lot of the kids I'll be in classes with, and not that many of them fought in the war. They've all lost someone, yes, but…"

"They haven't seen what you've seen." Greywave finished. Greywave wrapped an arm around Jonathan like an older brother might. "I don't know everything you've gone through, but I can tell you one thing. What I do know of you, you've earned your last name. You've fought harder, stronger and more passionately than wizards twice your age. I've seen you go into fights that you shouldn't have come back from, and yet here you are. You didn't deserve any of what happened to you, but you fought through it. You're a hero to hundreds of people. You're a hero to this nation."

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair. "It just feels so strange. It's like… I'm afraid…"

Greywave gave a nudge. "That's a first."

Jonathan snorted and smirked, but it faded pretty fast. "I'm afraid that the absence of war is going to kill me. I can't figure out what I want to do with my life. I feel… Just, lost."

Greywave twisted Jonathan so he was standing in front of him. "Look at me, Lionheart." Jonathan obeyed. "You're not the only man to ever feel like this after a war. You're not the only one to feel like it now. But if it helps, you're still in a war. Only now, it's a war for your life. You cannot let everything that has happened to you overcome the warrior I know you are. Maybe you need to find the right friends; maybe you need to study the right subjects. Maybe you need to get away from here, somewhere this… Unforgiveable war didn't happen. Transfer to another school; start fresh and new. I know it's hard, but you have to, Jonathan. You've earned it. Don't let those bastards win!" Greywave pointed to the R.W.A flag hanging on the stern of the Purging. "If you let this defeat you, they'll get one more win. And I know you won't let that happen."

A strike of stubbornness lit inside Jonathan. 'He's right. I need to figure out how to move on. My family would hate how I've been thinking. They'd want me to rise up.' Jonathan nodded. "You're right, Roland. Thank you." Jonathan hugged Roland.

Roland smiled, returning the embrace. "Anytime, Lionheart." He pulled back. "I'm proud to call you a friend."

Jonathan nodded, a small smile on his face. "So am I." A high-pitched call pulled Jon's eyes to the sky. A bald eagle was circling above him, looking at Jon as if waiting for him to say it was okay to come down. Jonathan smiled. "Come on down, Lance!"

Lance began swooping down towards the two young men, landing gracefully in front of them. Lance was a large bald eagle, with a bright yellow beak, a beautiful white head and a dark body. Piercing green eyes gave him the appearance of a highly intelligent animal. A small scroll was attached to his left leg. Jonathan bent down to retrieve it. "Did you bring me a letter, boy?" He scratched the top of Lance's head. The eagle chirped appreciatively, nodding his head. "Thank you, Lance. I'm afraid you've caught me without any treats. Would you like to go do some hunting?" Lance bobbed his head a couple times. "Okay. Let me see what the note says."

Jonathan unrolled the small note to find a short note with perfect script:

Please come to my office quickly. I need to speak with you.

Headmaster Webster

Jon looked back at Lance. "Go do some hunting for about half an hour, then come back. I'll have some food waiting for you, okay?" Lance nipped his finger gently, then turned around and took off towards the direction of New Ashford, probably to see if he could find any good hunting in the fields there. Jon looked back at Greywave. "I need to go. Headmaster Webster wants to see me."

Greywave nodded. "Alright. Stay strong, Jonathan. School starts soon; you never know what might happen then. You can always come to me if you need anything."

Jonathan nodded, and then started jogging back towards the school. As he got closer, he noticed that much of the battle damage had been repaired. Ilvermorny was a large castle mansion. Its stones were white, and it had elements of Tudor-design throughout. A wall went all the way around, with wrought-iron gates on all four sides. Some of the structure was comprised of square buildings with tall spire roofs. There was one large circular building close to the center with a small-spired roof. It had collapsed in the battle. There were some short towers that had also been badly damaged, but everything was nearly repaired. Wizards and witches looked over the building, making sure they were putting everything back to the way it had been.

Entering the main hall, Jon considered taking a shower. His track suit; blue with cranberry stripes down the arms and legs, with the Wampus house badge on the left front breast, and his blue Addidas runners, were a little muddy from his run. But the note had seemed urgent, so Jon made straight for the Headmasters office. As he approached, he noticed that the stone Minuteman that normally stood guard was still missing; in his place were two Rangers. Standing guard in their tan dusters adorned with silver stars with western hats pulled down low to help conceal their features, they seemed to be watching anyone who passed as if they were a threat to the headmaster. 'Tensions are still high four months after the war ended. How long is it going to be like this?'

The Ranger to the right of the door noticed Jonathan approaching and stepped forward, and both Rangers stepped into a salute. "Headmaster Webster has been expecting you Ranger Lionheart."

Jon was a little surprised they referred to him as "Ranger Lionheart." His title as Ranger now was a formality. He did have an offer to re-join the Rangers upon completion of his education but when the war came to an end, he was removed from the active service roster and listed as an honorary Ranger. He returned the salute. "It's just Jon. My rank is sort of a paper title."

The Ranger to the left of the door pushed her hat up and looked at Jonathan. "You fought in the war as a Ranger. You'll always be one of us. Never forget that." She pushed the door to the Headmaster's office open. "We certainly won't."

Jonathan felt his cheeks flush a bit, looking down before looking back to meet her gaze. "Thank you."

She smiled. "No problem, sir. Better head on in; it sounded like whatever he needs to see you about is important."

Jonathan nodded and stepped inside. The Ranger pulled the door closed behind him, and he found himself standing in a long rectangular room. Windows to his right, facing east, offered the only source of light into the office, which was very dark from its oak floor and oak paneled walls. Paintings of previous Headmasters and prestigious students lined both walls, all of them turning to look at the new entrance. The occasional candle lamp stuck out along both walls. Towards the windows was the Headmaster's desk. It was a large and intimidating desk, also made of dark oak, and it carved to look like a castle itself. Around the desk were currently three men; Headmaster Webster, General Greylock of the C.W.A., and a tall, portly man Jon didn't recognize.

Headmaster Tobias Webster didn't look like a typical Headmaster. He was clean-shaven, with black hair that was slicked back over his head in a nineteen-forties style military haircut. He had a tanned complexion and steel grey eyes. He was also a bit young for the position at only thirty-seven years old. He had served as the school's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher but was given the position of Headmaster after the battle to take the school cost Ilvermorny its previous Headmaster, Bartholomew Tharp. He had been killed trying to defend first year students. Tobias Webster had earned the rank of Colonel in the war and carried himself like a military man. His presence was one that demanded respect from anyone in the room with him. He also never wore dress robes unless he had to. He was always seen in No-Maj clothes; usually khaki pants of tan, blue or olive, with shirts, ties and shoes to match.

General Greylock, whose first name was a mystery to all but those closest to him, looked like a white-haired George Armstrong Custer. Long white hair sat underneath a black Cavalry hat with four gold stars pinned to the front. An exaggerated white handlebar mustache occupied his upper lip, and a long pink scar went up the entire left side of his face. He was tall and lanky, and carried an unassuming stance. His uniform was Navy blue with gold buttons, striping and epaulets.

The third man was dressed like a politician. A black three-piece suit covered his large frame. No-frame spectacles balanced on his nose, and walrus-esque mustache sat on his upper lip. Sandy brown hair, seemingly chopped short, was parted down the middle. He had a booming voice that carried across the room. He was speaking when Jonathan walked in. "I cannot believe how minimal they're playing this! If Albus Dumbledore is right, then England is… Oh! Mr. Lionheart! Please, please, come in!"

Jonathan crossed the twenty feet of office to stand in front of Headmaster Webster's desk. He stood at attention and offered a salute. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"

Webster returned the salute. "At ease, Jonathan. You're a student now, you don't have to be so formal." He must have caught the flicker of displeasure that crossed Jon's face because he cast General Greylock a knowing look before sitting in his chair.

General Greylock stepped forward and extended his hand to Jonathan. "It's good to see you again, son. How are you settling in here?"

Jonathan squirmed a bit before answering. "I'm not really sure, sir. I'm happy that the war is over, but I feel a bit out of place."

Greylock nodded, his eyes turning soft with understanding. "I understand. It can take some time to get used to peace."

Webster coughed before speaking again. "Jonathan, I'd like to introduce you to the Massachusetts representative to MACUSA, Senator Josiah Parker."

Senator Parker stepped forward and shook Jon's hand. "A very good pleasure to meet you, young man. I've heard so very much about you. All of MACUSA sends their regards and their thanks for your actions in the war."

Jon felt his face warm up. "Um, thank you, sir. I just… I did what I needed to do."

Senator Parker chuckled. "He is modest, Greylock. You should teach this boy to boast a bit about himself!"

General Greylock seemed to fix his steely look upon the Senator. "His quiet demeanor is what has made him the outstanding young man that he is. I cannot stand soldiers that prattle on for hours about their actions in the war, when over half of them are exaggerated lies."

Jonathan smirked a little at this. "And you should always remember the slave that stood behind the Roman conqueror, whispering the warning that all glory is fleeting."

All three men stared at Jonathan. Headmaster Webster and General Greylock looked at him with approval, but Senator Parker was dumbfounded. Headmaster Webster laughed, breaking the Senator from his shock. "Senator, Jonathan is a student of No-Maj military history. He's particularly fascinated with General Patton. This is another reason he became the soldier he became; he understands the art of war. Jonathan, please take a seat, we have a couple of things we need to discuss."

Jonathan sat before Webster started again. "First things first, MACUSA has decided to formally award you honors based upon your actions in the war. Senator?"

"Ah, yes. MACUSA, in conjunction with the President and the Joint Chiefs have looked over your record and determined you have earned the following merits; the Army and Navy Commendation medal, for unwavering service to both the Army and Navy. The Bronze Star, for rescuing MACUSA Senator Hornbower from the Restorative Wizarding Army prisoner camp in Coalwood, West Virginia, without backup and while under fire. The Soldier's Medal, for the exemplary display of heroism rescuing students from the Athens Institute of Wizardry after it had been set on fire by R.W.A. scouts. The Distinguished Flying Cross for the action of defending U.S.S. Constellation from R.W.A. broom pilots as they attempted to burn off her sails, with a confirmed total of five kills in that action, the most of any of our flyers that day. Three Silver Stars; one for your involvement of the brilliant Seventh Rangers assault on R.W.A.'s Erie, Pennsylvania shipyards, another for the defense of MACUSA itself in the Battle of New York, and a third for the actions here at Ilvermorny School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Three Purple… Hearts…."

Jonathan looked up at Senator Parker, whose voice had cracked and his hands were shaking. The look on his face was going from disbelief to heartache to anger, while one tear slid down his face. Jonathan looked at Headmaster Webster, who was looking at Jonathan like a father might look at a son he was extremely proud of. Jonathan himself was feeling overheated. The sheer magnitude of everything he'd gone through was something he often failed to grasp. What bothered him most, though, was that everyone made him sound like a hero, when others had paid higher prices around him.

General Greylock coughed. "Suffice it to say, Ranger Lionheart, that your actions in the war have not gone unnoticed. You are one of our greatest heroes, and the entire Wizarding community in American owes you a debt I fear it cannot repay."

Senator Parker regained his composure, but his voice was still shaky. "Quite so, young man."

Jonathan had started shaking too, but not nearly as severely as Senator Parker. Jon reached forward for a tissue from Webster's desk and wiped the bottom of his nose. "What about… Uhm, what about everyone else? The one's that didn't make it?"

Senator Parker looked surprised; General Greylock looked proud. "They will be receiving their own medals and awards. Their families will be called into New York for an award and memorial ceremony."

Senator Parker perked up. "That's right, young man! And you will have a ceremony…"

"Stop." Headmaster Webster interrupted. "Jonathan, let me explain something. As deserving as you are of every award you have earned, there is a source of… Contention, between Senator Parker, the General and myself. MACUSA wants to parade you across the country, showing you off to every witch and wizard in America as a beacon of hope."

"Now Tobias, that's not exactly…"

"What would you call it? Live broadcasts of his medal ceremony, a private cabin on the Constellation, but only because the Constellation is famous as the flagship of the fleet, and she'll make such an expedition easier. Stops at every major battlefield, visits to every town affected by the war. Town hall meetings, shaking hands with anyone who sees him, visits to gravesites and crying families." Webster looked at Jonathan who had gone sallow at the thought. "I don't think sending a fifteen-year-old boy, no matter how brave he has been, on such a pompous vote rally is the right thing to do. And I also don't think Jonathan wants that kind of attention."

Jonathan swallowed. "I'd rather not, sir. It's no offense to MACUSA, or any of the families that lost someone, or even the awards themselves. But Senator, I'm nothing special. I'm…" Jonathan suddenly started to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time: overwhelmed. His sinuses started to fill up and his eyes were brimming with tears. "I'm just a teenager, sir. A normal kid, who found himself in an extraordinary situation. I did what I volunteered to do, which was serve my country. I helped defeat the enemy of freedom and peace here at home, and saw that justice was done. Justice for every wizard that lost a family member, and justice…" Jonathan's voice hitched. "Justice for my own family. I don't deserve the parades, meetings or the press you have planned. Those that paid the highest price deserve that attention. Have your parades, but not for me. You can mention me, but I won't be there. I… I can't."

Webster stood up, went around his desk and knelt next to Jonathan, wrapping an arm around him. "Senator, Jonathan has done far more than could ever have been expected of him here. I know that if we asked him to fight again, he would. But he isn't a show horse. As his Headmaster, I will not allow it."

General Greylock moved to stand behind Jonathan. "And I will not allow it, either. I'm sorry, Senator. But this is too much to ask of this young man. He may be a warrior, but he's too young and vulnerable for such an affair."

Jonathan sniffled a bit. "Well, I'm not sure I'd use the word vulnerable…"

Webster and Greylock chuckled, but Senator Parker looked angry for a moment, as though his hopes of being re-elected were now in danger. That look quickly faded into a face of regret. He sighed. "You're right, gentleman. He's not a pawn for our governments gain. We must be better than those we worked to defeat." He knelt to Jonathan's right. "I'm sorry, dear boy. Truly, I am."

Jonathan nodded. "It's alright, senator. It's just… Glory, fame, medals. None of that was ever on my mind. I appreciate the recognition, but I don't want a big deal made out of it. Not when so many others deserve it more than I do."

Parker nodded. "MACUSA will probably keep pushing the issue. But I will do what I can to keep them from harassing you."

Webster stood back up and walked back behind his desk. "I may have a solution to that. And maybe to a few of Jonathans other problems." He picked up several papers from his desk. "I've been in communication with the Headmaster and a Professor from our sister school in Scotland, Hogwarts. They may have a… Difficult situation on their hands."

Parker scoffed. "That's an understatement."

Webster looked at him. "Nothing's been confirmed yet. Jonathan, can you tell me what you know about the First Wizarding War?"

Jonathan thought for a second. "Not much, actually."

Webster laughed. "That's because you spend all your time in No-Maj history. The First Wizarding War was a mostly European affair. It involved a powerful wizard named Tom Riddle, though the Wizarding World largely refers to him as either Lord Voldemort, or simply Voldemort. In 1970, he officially dubbed himself the 'Dark Lord,' and began a campaign to exterminate all No-Maj's and enslave No-Maj born wizards, and to elevate Pureblood families in positions of power." He handed Jonathan a piece of paper with what little information was known about Tom Riddle with a simple face picture from when Riddle was much younger. "Sound familiar?"

Jonathan looked over the information. There wasn't much. But the list of Riddle's actions made Jonathan do an emotional one-eighty. He looked at Headmaster Webster with a look of determination, bordering on anger. "Like the R.W.A.? Do you think he may have had anything to do with the… Nightmare we just went through?"

Webster shook his head. "We really don't know. We know that Voldemort travelled the world for some time before he officially started his war. He may have come through the States, planted the seeds of rebellion with the Pureblood families. We did start to have more tension between Purebloods and No-Maj born wizards and witches after nineteen sixty-eight, but nothing has ever been confirmed. He sort of feel off the map."

Parker shook his head. "It was a dangerous time. I had friends in Britain. The whole world was on edge. It was the biggest threat the Wizarding World had ever seen."

Webster nodded. "His rebellion lasted until October thirty-first, nineteen eighty-one. He attacked a family, the Potters, to kill their child. Reasons why are a little vague outside the British Ministry of Magic. Regardless, his attempt to kill the child failed. The boy survived the Avada Kedavra."

Jonathan nodded. "The Boy Who Lived. I've heard a little about him."

"Yes, his name is Harry James Potter. He's a few months older than you are. He's well known throughout the wizarding world." Webster handed Jonathan another piece of paper. Jonathan found himself staring at a boy his age. Raven hair that seemed to go everywhere, bright green eyes sat behind round glasses. The most prominent feature on his face was a lightning bolt scar that went up the left side of his forehead.

Jonathan put the paper back on the desk. "What does this have to do with the current… Potential problem at Hogwarts?"

Webster handed Jonathan a copy of the Daily Prophet, a British wizarding newspaper that was covering the Triwizard Tournament. The headline of the paper read:

Potter Wins Triwizard – Cedric Diggory dies from tragic accident.

General Greylock spoke."According to Headmaster Dumbledore and a Professor Snape, young Mr. Diggory did not die in an accident. He was murdered. By Voldemort."

"More precisely, his servant. A man named Peter Pettigrew. Voldemort, however, was there. He tortured Harry shortly after Diggory was murdered." Webster clarified.

Jonathan looked at the two men. "If that's what happened, why isn't the press reporting that? The people have a right to know!"

Webster sighed, but Parker explained. "The Ministry of Magic has officially denied the possibility that Voldemort has returned. They say he was killed in eighty-one, and anyone who says otherwise is trying to stir up trouble and draw attention from an escaped Azkaban prisoner, a Mr. Sirius Black. Who, apparently, is Harry Potter's godfather. Seemingly the only family the boy has left."

Jonathan's eyes widened. "A cover up?"

Webster nodded. "It seems so. Back in the seventies, Voldemort had agents inside the British Ministry of Magic. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape are of the belief that he may have that leverage again."

Jonathan looked Headmaster Webster right in the eyes. "So what does this have to do with me?"

Webster stood up and walked back towards his large window, overlooking the grounds and watching the Navy crew assemble a dry-dock to stand the Sagittarius up rightso she could be repaired properly. "Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape believe Mr. Potter. They believe Voldemort is preparing for a second attempt at his original plans. If they're right, then the entire world is in danger. The Continental Wizarding Army and Navy are, frankly, in shambles. There's nothing we could do if the Ministry of Magic asked for our help tomorrow, or even in a couple of years. Beyond that, tensions are still high here at home. Trials are taking place, but there may be pockets of R.W.A. resistance across this country."

"That means," Webster continued, "That the fate of the free world may very well rest with a small band of resistance fighters. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape asked me if I knew of any students, roughly Harry Potter's age that had experience fighting in war. You… Were the first person to come to my mind." Webster sat back down, leaned across his desk and looked Jonathan right in the eyes. "With so little evidence, it's possible that what they believe is wrong. But if they're right, they're going to need all the help they can get. And I can't think of a better wizard to send them, either way. With that being said, it is my…" Webster looked at General Greylock. "It is my duty, to ask you to stay."

Jonathan was puzzled. "Sir?"

"If there are pockets of R.W.A. resistance out there, then we're going to need all the able-bodied wizards and witches we can get our hands on. You may not like the praise and attention, but you have the most distinguished record of any wizard that has ever served in the C.W.A. You've become one of our most valuable resources. So it is my duty, to ask you stay."

Jonathan was dumbfounded. He had a chance to go to a place where there wouldn't constantly be reminders of a civil war. He could have a chance at a new life, with new friends and maybe even new dreams. Or, he could be diving headlong into another war. If he stayed here, though, the odds of having to fight some more seemed just about as high. It was a fifty-fifty decision.

Jonathan looked at Tobias Webster. "What would you do, Tobias?"

Webster understood the look in Jonathan's eye. It was the look a son would give his father when he couldn't make a tough decision. Tobias Webster had been Jonathan's DADA teacher when Jonathan first arrived at Ilvermorny. Webster had led a small group of broom fighters to look for missing Ilvermorny students after the first few battles of the war and had rescued Jonathan after his parents had been murdered. Webster had rushed Jonathan's education in the aspects of DADA, Potions and Healing. When Jonathan decided to volunteer for the C.W.A. at age 13, Webster supported him.

The next two years had been terrifying. Tobias felt like he had slipped into a father figure roll for Jon. Anytime Jon and Tobias could get away from the fighting and meet, they'd talk about what happened. Jon would cry about lost friends, cheer for victories won, and get ready to fight again. Jonathan was a part of countless rescue missions, several all-out frontal assaults, had been captured three times, tortured twice. He fought and helped save MACUSA in New York, scouted and worked as a sniper against high ranking R.W.A. leaders; and when the R.W.A. tried to steal the U.S.S. Constellation, it was Jon that led his small eight man detachment, the Seventh Rangers, to get her back. They succeeded with the help of the Sagittarius, but he was the only Ranger to survive, and that was by the skin of his teeth. He was barely healed when the R.W.A. tried one last time to take Ilvermorny, where he rallied students his age and older to fight until the C.W.A. arrived.

Tobias, while married, had no children of his own. He viewed Jonathan as a sort of adopted son, which made the advice he was about to give even more painful. "If it were me… I would go. If they're wrong, you have a chance to make a life without constantly being reminded of the war. If they're right, then you'll get what I think you've been secretly wanting. One more chance to fight for a cause you believe in. And with the Boy Who Lived around, you won't get as much attention as you do here."

Jonathan nodded. "Okay then. I'll go."

Tobias smiled, but it was mildly bitter. "Alright then. You'll head to England tomorrow with the Constellation. She'll take you to London where you'll meet Headmaster Dumbledore in Diagon Alley, at a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. He wants to meet with you to make sure you know what you're getting into. You'll have one last chance to decide there. If you want to come back, Constellation will bring you back."

Jonathan nodded. "I guess I should go pack, then."

Webster nodded. "You should. And head to bed as early as you can; our broom engineer has a special gift for you. She's been working very hard on it. I think you'll really like it."

Jon nodded, then stood up. "Thank you, sir." He looked at General Greylock and extended his hand. "A pleasure to see you again sir."

Greylock smiled. "The pleasure was all mine, Ranger. I know you'll make us proud over there. Moldy-Voldy won't know what hit him!"

Jonathan smiled and stretched out his hand to the Senator. "I want to thank you again for the recognition, sir. It does mean a lot. I just want the men and women that didn't make it to be the real heroes."

Parker nodded and smiled. "I'll do everything I can to see that they are remembered. You have my word. Take care Ranger Lionheart."

Jonathan nodded, then turned and headed back out to the main hall. He pulled the door open and stepped out. The two Rangers stood at attention and saluted. Jon returned the salute before heading up to the Wampus dorm. Suddenly, all the fear, confusion and the struggle for meaning were gone. Jonathan was ecstatic. 'I'm finally going to do something that matters, again. Make a difference. Have an adventure. Or, maybe just have a life away from a war-torn landscape.

Jonathan walked up to the painting that concealed the Wampus dorm. It was a painting of the Constellation; sailing in the clouds just after the C.W.N. pulled her into service. Her captain at the time, Andrew Krakengärd, called out; "What is the password? Speak! Or I will open fire!"

Jonathan smirked. "Cassiopeia."

Captain Krakengärd waved his hat. "Just so, sir!" The painting swung open revealing a doorway. Jonathan started making his way to his dorm, excited to tell Lance the good news.

Lance was sitting on his perch in Jon's room with his eyes closed, but Jon wasn't convinced he was sleeping. He went over to his desk and pulled out some eagle treats before walking over to Lance and stroking him on the back of his head. The eagle opened his eyes and began to chirp contentedly.

"Did you have a good hunt?"

Lance bobbed his head up and down.

"That's good, boy. Would you like some treats?"

Lance chirped happily. Jonathan gave him a couple of treats before telling Lance. "Well, buddy, it looks like things are going to change in a fairly epic way."

Lance cawed once; the tone was questioning.

"We're heading over to Hogwarts in Scotland, Lance. We're going to join a fight. Maybe. We're not really sure what's going to happen." Jonathan started gathering his belongings and stuffing them into a large wood and metal trunk, and a large olive-green canvas duffle bag.

Lance chirped once in a worried tone.

Jonathan stopped packing and looked at the eagle. "I know. But here's the deal. If I go over there, and there's no conflict like I've been told could happen, then I have a chance to try and have a normal life without war. If the reports of trouble are accurate, though, I'll find myself back in a war I've been warned could happen. I know it sounds a little scary, but there's a good chance here. I could live without the shadow of this civil war in top of me. That's worth the risk, dontcha think?"

Lance tilted his head to the left before slowly nodding. Jonathan rubbed under his beak and gave him another treat. "Yeah. I thought so too."

o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o - o

Well, there we go. I promised a bigger second chapter and yeah, I think I nailed it.

Yes, old wooden sailing ships fly in my wizarding world. How cool is that?

I had considered keeping Jon's backstory a secret for a bit longer, but the more I thought about it the less that made sense.

Let me know what you think, and please share any advice, comments, concerns, complaints or snide remarks.

Edit: I made a few changes to this chapter. Not many, but I changed how Rangers appear out of their military uniforms. My original thought for how they would look was like Rangers from LOTR, but that didn't really fit too much into the American background. So, I changed it to dusters and Stetsons. Makes more sense.

Also, the section where Jon is told the medals he'll receive. I spent a lot of time thinking about whether MACUSA would have medals unique to the wizarding world, or if they would adopt medals from the No-Maj military.

My thinking in my little universe is this; MACUSA has built its military up to mirror older variations of the US Military. Reasons for this will be explained as the story goes on. But I decided that, there will be a few medals unique to wizarding America, but Jon won't know about these just yet.

Okay, now I'm done ranting.