The next day, Dumbledore assembled his entire school staff at the Entrance Hall, where he was awaiting Potter's arrival. All were dressed in their best clothes, with the exception of Snape, whose usual black robes were his best clothes. In fact, they were the only type of robes he had.
By now, most of the school had also heard of their visitors' impending arrival, and so most students could be seen crowding around windows, or from the parapets at the top of the central courtyard. After two hours of waiting, however, everyone was getting restless.
"Where is that blasted boy?" muttered Snape, which Dumbledore answered with a stern gaze.
"We must wait for him, Severus. It would be highly impolite and offensive if we did not," answered the aged headmaster, which many of the teachers were nodding at.
"Indeed," squeaked little professor Flitwick. "However, I am more curious as to how they mean to transport such a large contingent of men over here. The Hogwarts Express itself would not be able to cope with all the men and equipment. Not in one go."
"I agree," acquiesced McGonagall. "Surely they've procured a means of mass transportation, like Beauxbatons and Durmstrang did two years ago," she elaborated, alluding to the Tri-Wizard Cup of 1994, which Hogwarts had won.
"Probably," agreed Dumbledore, as he looked around the landscape for any sign of an arriving army. "Considering the fact that they have so many men and equipment, I daresay it'll be something large, something eminently British—"
"What about a ship?" suddenly asked professor Sprout, her gaze fixed on something in the lake.
"Yes, a ship would do…but it would have to be big, and several of them, I daresay. A great guess, my dear!" he complimented Sprout, not noticing her gaze still fixed to the lake. "What brought that on?"
Sprout pointed her finger at whatever she was looking at, "THAT!"
Dumbledore and the rest of the staff turned their gaze from the rest of the landscape towards the lake. Apparently, several of the students had seen it too, since there were several shouts of "Ship! There's a ship in the lake!"
And indeed, it was a ship. Or rather, the top of a mast that Sprout had seen. But now, it was steadily rising, until the front burst out of the surface, plummeted back into the water, and finally steadied itself. At the bow of the ship was the typical female idol, this one clothed in ancient Celtic warrior garb. At the back of the ship flew a giant Union Jack in all its splendor.
"Oh my…" breathed McGonagall as she observed the majestic three-decker rise out of the waters.
"164 guns…" whispered that year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was working part time, as a favor for Dumbledore. He was stunned at the theoretical amount of damage a single volley of that ship could do.
Snape merely sneered at the sight of the ship, "That pathetic vessel wouldn't stand against a single Reductor, I'm sure. And it cannot possibly carry his entire army," he observed silkily.
"You're right" stated professor Sinistra, more agreeing to the logistical aspect of the ship than its resilience. She pointed at two spots behind the first ship. "There's three more, behind it!"
Indeed, moments after the first three-decker ruptured the surface of the lake, three other three-deckers burst out behind it in V formation. All carried similar female idols at the prow, but flew flags with the Cross of St. George instead of the Union Jack, making all the staff assume the first was rightly Potter's ship.
From the prow of said ship, Harry Potter, Lieutenant Colonel of his Majesty's Army and officer in command of the 6th Active Royal Division and Officer in Charge of the Pacification of the Scottish Lands, was looking at the aforementioned staff through his telescope with a grim look. He put down the lens for a moment, seemingly to consider something, before raising it again. Behind him, Blackthorne was waiting patiently, along with the rest of his aides.
Finally, Harry spoke, "You're sure your information is absolutely correct, Blackthorne?" he asked crisply.
Blackthorne went rigid at attention. "Sir! I'm sure, sir. My agents scoured the castle while the headmaster's vaunted Order was meeting. I myself contributed to the efforts by giving the details of the headmaster's office."
Harry nodded before he observed the staff through his lens once more. He really didn't want to camp in Hogwarts. It was a bad site, strategically, allowing him nearly no freedom of movement. And, as far as he was concerned, until proven otherwise, this was enemy territory. He'd been warned about Dumbledore and his manipulations, which added to his misgivings about staying in Hogwarts. Of course, there were bonuses to staying there…
It was while thinking on a particular bonus that he made up his mind at last. He pushed the looking lens into the rest of the telescope, making it more compact as he turned to regard his men. All were wearing red coats, with the exception of the ship's captain and the man's staff.
"Alright gentlemen, we're here at last. Now, I expect our men and yourselves to act like the gentlemen you all are. No harassing the students, and certainly no stealing. I want you to make that perfectly clear to your men, understood?" he demanded. After receiving brief acknowledgements from his officers, he nodded and continued, "I want you all to be careful. Exceedingly careful, gentlemen. Albus Dumbledore is a very dangerous man. He is manipulative, and powerful. However, more worryingly is the fact that he believes all men can and should be redeemed, even if at the cost of the redeemer."
"Do not fall for his manipulations. See him for what he is: an unknown factor, an enemy even, but one we must not attack. We must not be the first ones to fire, for that will make our position here even more uncertain," he finished, glad that his officers were drinking in his every word, even if he was a decade or so younger than they, for the most part.
"Now then, our arrangements for details are as follows: Mr. Sharpe!" he barked, causing one of the captains to go rigid at attention.
"Sir!"
"I want you to pick adequate picquet teams. Rotate them every five hours," he ordered.
"Yes, sir!" the man saluted.
"Mr. Wolfe!"
"Sir!"
"Your men are to be assigned to patrol duty in the camp during the night. If anyone does manage to get by Mr. Sharpe's men, which is unlikely, I want your men to apprehend them,"
"Yes, sir!"
"Mr. Monck!"
"Sir!"
"Your ships are to remain anchored as near to the town of Hogsmeade as you can, while still remaining within firing range of Hogwarts, understood?"
"Aye, sir!"
Harry nodded. "Good. Get to it, then, gentlemen. Mr. Monck, take us to the castle's port."
The ship's captain saluted, then turned to go to the wheel to give the orders. On the way, the man stopped to give the signal officer instructions for the other ships. As the other officers also left, Harry was left only with Blackthorne, who merely looked at Harry's back as the young Colonel looked at the castle, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Penny for your thoughts, sir?" prodded Joachim, finally. Harry chuckled.
"Old memories, Joachim," he answered, "I was thinking of spring in 1992."
Joachim's eyes darkened slightly at the memory. "The basilisk."
Harry nodded. "Indeed. It is funny that Dumbledore should think that I have never set foot in Hogwarts before…when he owes me his career, eh?" he asked as he looked back to Joachim, who was smiling grimly.
"Indeed, sir. Might I ask what brought on such a memory?" he asked, though he had a feeling what had done so.
"You know full well what brought it on, Joachim," chided Harry, before falling silent. "She's there."
Joachim nodded. "Aye, that she is, sir."
"I daresay she won't be very enthusiastic about my presence" commented Harry as he winced a bit, "Not after I stood her up at our wedding interview with Her Majesty."
Joachim shrugged nonchalantly, "She seemed well enough when I saw her in the castle, sir. Even helped with the information collecting, she did."
Harry shivered a bit. "You don't know her like I do, Joachim. That girl, no, woman, is a terror when she's angry. Oh, she looks calm on the exterior, but when alone with her…let's just say she can shout."
Joachim grinned. "I daresay your homecoming will be eventful then, sir."
Harry glared at his close friend. "Let's change the subject, eh?" he suggested forcibly as he looked towards the castle again, the breezy wind feeling nice against his face, making his low ponytail flutter in the wind.
"Very well, sir," agreed Joachim, though he was still amused by the previous topic, "What do you think of Dumbledore's agreement?"
Harry's expression turned grim. "It's a half-lie," he stated plainly. At Joachim's inquisitive look, he elaborated, "The man will give us our wards and land, but it'll all be done half-heartedly, mark my words. Uncle Max warned me enough about the old man to make sure I didn't fall for his tricks."
Joachim's eyes narrowed. "How do we respond to that, then, sir?"
Harry gave a wolfish smile. "Well, we'll just have to erect our own wards, eh?" he replied, "and if some of the casting…interferes with some of Hogwarts' wards, then more's the pity, no?"
Once the ship (HMS Empire) had reached a short distance from the docks, the sailors began rolling up the sails, intending to disembark by use of launch boats. As the numerous launch boats made their way towards the dock, Harry's at the front, the Hogwarts staff and students looked at the magnificent display of coordination that the soldiers and sailors were performing.
"Efficient, aren't they?" commented professor Vector as she took off her square spectacles and wiped them clean with a handkerchief.
"Indeed," agreed McGonagall, "Reminds me of the tales uncle Angus used to tell me about his time in the British Army, back during the Napoleonic Wars"
"Your uncle was muggle?" asked Flitwick, not taking his eyes off the grandiose man-of-wars.
McGonagall shook her head, "Squib. Grandfather had him enlist in the army, since he couldn't carry on the family trade, as it were," she replied, "He served in Waterloo. Said he never was more frightened than when the French cavalry began their assault on the British square."
Dumbledore looked at McGonagall with curiosity in his eyes, "What did he do?"
McGonagall gave the headmaster a proud look, "He stayed and fought, just like the rest of the British army. He said if Wellington could handle the fright, then by God, so could he."
"I'm assuming that the rest of his comrades felt the same, seeing as how Wellington won" commented Flitwick in his squeaky voice.
McGonagall nodded, a proud smile on her face, "The British Army may have been made up of liars, robbers, murderers, and other dregs of society, but when it came to soldiering, they were second to none."
She never took notice of the slightly agitated expressions of her fellow teachers.
At the docks, the launch boats had already arrived and were proceeding to unload their troops and supplies. From a lookout on the stairwell that led up to the Hogwarts grounds, Harry took out his telescope and, pulling it to its full length, looked at the secondary landing site, at the shore of the Hogwarts grounds, near the main entrance, where his main force of soldiers, cavalry, and siege equipment would be unloaded. At his own particular landing point, only he and his staff, along with a platoon of Coldstream Guards, who were serving as his own personal escort.
Harry collapsed the telescope as he nodded satisfactorily at the men's progress. Half of the men were already in launch boats, rowing for the shore. Several already were nearing the shore. He turned to face his staff, all of whom, with the exception of the captain of the Empire, were waiting at attention for his orders.
"Have the men of the 78th Highlander Regiment camp in the area near the castle gates. Should the Death Eaters attack, they will be in charge of manning and defending the walls," he ordered, silently nodding in acquiescence when the responsible officer stiffened at attention and then went on his way to relay the commands, "The 96th Rifles are to encamp and fortify the walls on the other side of the lake, thus taking care of the only two possible entry points to the castle."
"Also, I want at least six pieces of artillery on each wall. Try to make it nine on the secondary walls, since it covers a larger stretch of land. Cavalry is to camp near the stadium, but within minutes distance from the front gate," he finished. "Put up the medical tent at the 96th Rifles camp. I want my tent up on the cliffs overlooking the lake."
After nodding to the officers who stiffened to attention and left, Harry turned to Blackthorne, who had a calculating smile on his face.
"You're ignoring the land partition the headmaster probably has set up," he stated calmly, though with a hint of approval in his tone. Harry merely smirked.
"If that old fool believes I'll constrict myself to his wishes, he's got something else coming. Remember what I said about the wards, though, Blackthorne. He'll still try to put up his shoddy work, so I want the 1st Shield Regiment to set up appropriate wards. Maybe have them tinker with some of Hogwarts' more…superfluous wards, like the one that prevents boys from going up female dorm staircases, or reversing the ones that already exist. Use your imagination."
Blackthorne grinned evilly as he saluted Harry. "Your father and his friends would be damned proud, sir Harry," he observed, making Harry smile.
"Well, they do complain I do not seem to have an affection for pranks..."
Blackthorne laughed. "Indeed! But we should continue this discussion later, sir Harry. Our hosts must be waiting impatiently by now," he observed, "Though we be not on good terms with the headmaster, it is still necessary to observe the proper protocol, so as to show ourselves to be the better men."
Harry sighed as he reluctantly acquiesced. "Very well. Let us go meet the puppets and their overrated puppeteer."
Once at the top of the stairwell, Harry took out his golden pocket watch (a family heirloom his father had given him, first carried by one of Gryffindor's greatest generals', Augustus Potter, descendants) and checked the time.
'11:11:11 AM…' he thought, smiling at the irony of the situation. Rather than enacting an armistice, he was essentially occupying a castle for posterior offensive military operations. Granted, it didn't have as much hold, since it wasn't November 11th, but still…
After chuckling to himself, Harry clicked the watch shut and tucked it safely in his inner breast pocket. He then straightened his back as he regarded the school staff with indifferent and calculating eyes. Behind him, he could feel the Coldstream Guards tightening their grips on their A-1 Griffin Rifles, developed and mass-produced by Maximilian and his family, the Roberts, who were in the service of the Potters and thus, indirectly, of the Crown.
"Easy, lads. They won't dare pull anything on us. Not if they value their school," Harry told them calmly. He heard behind him as Blackthorne ordered them to look calm, but paid no attention; his gaze was fixed on the staff.
Straightening his shoulders, he took one step forward and walked over to the professors, his personal guard behind him, although he felt several leave formation and take position at the flanks of the meeting, just in case the headmaster was less friendly than expected.
'The die is cast,' thought Harry as he neared the headmaster.
Of the many things Minerva McGonagall was known for, a taste in fashion was not it. In fact, she rather despised the pursuance of fashion, looking upon such pursuits as a waste of time. However, there was one thing she could not deny, and that was that Harry Potter looked good in his uniform.
Standing before them in his bright redcoat, with his two golden epaulettes shining in the midday sun, he looked every bit the officer he professed to be. He was wearing the tricorne used by the British in America, which was bordered in gold. At his hip hung a 1796 Light Cavalry saber, which, even hanging in its scabbard, was quite the fearsome weapon. He kept his dark hair long, tied back in a small low ponytail with a midnight blue hairbow. Across his figure ran a red officer's sash, with the crest of the Potter family in the middle.
He gracefully took off his hat and tucked it underneath his arm. "I am Lieutenant Colonel Harry James Potter, of Her Majesty's Imperial Army," he announced calmly. "I come to Hogwarts on orders of Her Majesty's government, as a measure to carry out my duties in a swifter fashion. I expect your hospitality" he finished, looking pointedly at Dumbledore, as if challenging him to object.
To his credit, the headmaster didn't object, but rather inclined his head respectfully. "I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of this educational institution, Colonel, and freely do offer my hospitality to you and your men, Colonel."
Harry seemed a bit disappointed at not being able to find anything wrong in the headmaster's words, but did sneer at the word 'educational'. "Yes, I've heard of the education your school provides. Mediocre, at best, from what I gather. Then again, perhaps that's because of your staff, not the syllabus," he commented, looking directly at Snape, whom he recognized immediately through his parents' descriptions. The man turned red with indignity.
Harry looked around at the castle, trying to take it all in, just in case, and sighed resignedly as he put his tricorne back on and straightened it. "It'll do, I suppose. Food need not be prepared for my men this evening, headmaster; my men are used to cooking for themselves and are rather suspicious of anything not made by themselves. I, however, shall be joining you this evening," he told the aged man.
Dumbledore nodded slowly and finally tried to put in a word, "Colonel, perhaps one of my staff or myself can accompany you to your prepared quarters in the castle?" he suggested, "We have rooms prepared for you and your staff in Gryffindor Tower"
Harry was about to immediately shoot down that proposal when he stiffened. 'She's there…' his mind taunted, 'admit it, Potter, you want to see her, for more than a single hour, after all these years…'
Harry could easily feel the temptation of being so close to his beloved wife, but the rational part of his mind made a swift comeback, reasoning,
'It would compromise her as your spymaster, endangering her life.'
That alone won the argument in favor of not staying in the castle. He looked at the headmaster with an indifferent gaze and said, "Thank you, but no, headmaster. I am having my tent propped up on the cliffs, overlooking both sides of the lake. Your tower is too far from my men for efficient command."
With that said, Harry went to attention, tipped his hat towards the female professors, saying a polite, "Madams," and then turned and left for the place where his tent would be erected.