AN: Apparently, while making a change in Chapter 10, I managed to screw up and replaced 9 instead. Apologies to my readers.

Hogwarts (Day 11)

Dumbledore was worried.

Why was he worried? He was worried because reports were coming in of a very pissed off army marching down from northern Scotland, intent on attacking Hogwarts. Now, usually, Dumbledore wouldn't be worried of an attack on the school, since the wards and he and his staff could put up a good fight.

But against that army…No…against him, Dumbledore wasn't so sure.

Harry Potter

The boy intrigued Dumbledore; for that is how Dumbledore saw him: a boy. Not even of legal age in the Wizarding world of England. But still, this boy inspired probably just as much respect and fear as Dumbledore himself did. When Harry Potter spoke, men and women obeyed. When Harry Potter fought, men and women quailed or took heart from seeing him in action.

It worried Dumbledore, then, that such a boy was now heading an army—an army his wards didn't seem to repel—bent on attacking his school.

Of course, Dumbledore had warned the Minister against taking any action against the Hogwarts garrison once news arrived of the Potter boy's victory up north. The messenger, a member of his Order specializing in tracking and stealth, had spoken in admiring tones as he described the siege and the subsequent charge up the walls Keeping himself hidden, he was also witness to Harry's charge through the gates, terrifying him as he saw the younger man cut down Death Eaters with impunity.

Dumbledore had been astounded at the tale. The mere mention of the Leviathan cannons made him shiver. Such destructive power would now be aimed at his school, because of that fool of a Minister.

Worse, word had arrived from his London contacts that orders had been sent from Wales to bring supplies to a military base in northern Wales, where rumor was the Welsh and Irish regiments of Harry's army were quartered.

'Six thousand men…' Dumbledore still couldn't believe it, 'We cannot hope to stop him as it is, but with six thousand more men, it will be even more a foregone conclusion!'

Dumbledore had argued that view to the Minister, but the stupid man had remained firm in his belief that his elite Aurors could beat back any attempt at seizing the school, regardless of the fact that much of his Auror force was now permanently incapacitated by the wounds inflicted on them by the now-imprisoned garrison.

In fact, to Dumbledore's amazement, the Minister looked at the Pyrrhic victory as proof of the superiority of wizards over firearms.

The man hadn't even fought a quarter of the main army!

Thus, Dumbledore was worried.

As far as he could tell, he had two choices.

Either stand with the Ministry and defy the oncoming army, probably sealing the destruction of the school in the process, or…

Dumbledore grimaced. He admitted to being manipulative, but even then he hated turning on an ally, no matter how fragile and tenuous that alliance might be.

For the other option at Dumbledore's feet was simple.

Dumbledore would turn over the Ministry forces to Harry Potter.

Down in the dungeons, on the other hand, the operatives of the Crown were busy at work making the imprisoned soldiers comfortable.

"Coire" mumbled Ginny as she pointed her wand at one soldier's gash, which had reopened due to the man's stubborn refusal to stay put.

Once the cut mended itself, Ginny nodded in approval before rounding on the healed soldier with a stern look. The man had the decency to look sheepish.

"Look, I understand you hate staying put," she started calmly, though glaring nonetheless, "but if you reopen this wound one more time, so help me I will hex you"

The man nodded meekly before making himself comfortable against the stack of hay he'd claimed as a bed. Ginny nodded before turning to the next patient; a man who was suffering from fever from his wounds and the dank dungeons.

She saw out of the corner of her eye as Susan, Hannah, and Neville all worked on other prisoners. Outside the cell, Blaise was keeping watch for the usual patrol.

She deftly took care of the man's fever before moving on to the next patient, and the next, until she was stopped by Blaise's hushed yell of "They're coming!"

Immediately, Ginny and the rest cast invisibility spells on themselves and ran out of the cell, hoping to miss the guards. It was fortunate that the guards didn't deem the prisoners important enough to warrant close checks. All they cared about was that they were alive; thus, they unknowingly allowed the Crown agents to heal the wounded and keep them fed.

Instead of running all the way back to her dorms, however, Ginny lagged behind, hoping to hear something important from the guards. She wasn't disappointed.

"—Minister's said that the Potter brat's army should be here soon," one said; a male by the guard's deep voice.

"Oh? Did he mention how soon?" asked the other guard; a female, this one.

"Nope. Did send out scouts, though, to Hogsmeade. Haven't returned yet."

"Maybe they're just getting there?"

"They left seven hours ago."

"…that close?"

"Aye, seems like it. By tomorrow, we should be seeing them from the outer walls"

Ginny spared not a second longer at that. She turned and ran down the hallways and up the stairs to the Gryffindor dorms. Once near the corner that led to the portrait, she slowed down and caught her breath, disabling the invisibility spell as she did; after all, if the portrait of the Fat Lady saw her suspiciously out of breath and flushed, while her boyfriend was already inside, then who know what might happen?

Once she'd regained her composure, Ginny stepped out from behind the corner nonchalantly, telling the portrait the password as she came into view. The portrait looked at her curiously before shrugging and swinging open. Ginny hid a smirk as she went through the opening and into the common room. There, she saw Neville sitting with her brother and Hermione, chatting away amiably.

"Ginny! You're here!" said Hermione as she noticed the petite redhead walk into the common room. Ron turned his attention from Neville to Ginny with narrowed eyes.

"Where were you?" he asked. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Where I was, Ronald, is none of your business. But if you must know, I was taking a walk," she replied crisply. Neville chuckled at that, though still sending a curious glance at her.

Ron reddened slightly at her reply, but wisely stayed quiet. Ginny shrugged at Hermione and then walked over towards the stairs that led up to the female dorms.

"Nice evening out tonight," she told the group, catching Neville's attention immediately, but barely gaining any attention from the other two, "Looks like tomorrow's going to be a fine day"

With that, she walked up the stairs towards her dorm room, not noticing, but knowing nonetheless, that Neville's eyes had widened slightly. It had been a code formed before Harry had left. Her casual remark about the weather had tipped Neville off about the presence of the Royal Army. Hermione and Ron, however, were completely in the dark.

Just like she planned.

The Next Day…(Day 12)

"Good to see you, sir" said the young Irish officer as he shook Harry's hand.

Harry grinned at the older man as he shook the man's hand. "Good to see you too, Harper" he told the Irishman.

Harry looked around at the troops that were still in rank formation. Row upon row of Irish soldiers, flanked by Welshmen, lay before him. Behind them were their baggage trains and supporting artillery companies. What had surprised him somewhat, however, was the presence of a company of 200 horsemen, led a young officer that Harry recognized was part of his father's officer corps.

Upon inquiry, he was told that the horsemen were to provide shock value on the enemy.

"Any idea when we'll be getting our commanding officers back, sir?" asked Harper, the senior major of the Royal Irish. Harry shrugged.

"Can't say for sure, Harper," remarked Harry, "I might need them where they are more at the moment. After all, they are providing some rather good intelligence on the situation."

The Irishman nodded reluctantly at that, seeing the logic behind the argument, yet not liking it. Harry then turned to the lined up troops.

"Men, the time has come!" he called out, to the cheers of the soldiers; If anything, Harry knew how to rally his men, "Our brothers in Hogwarts await our coming! Our enemies know we are here! Shall we make either wait?"

Loud yells of "NO!" could be heard everywhere. Harry grinned.

"Shall we show the traitorous insects the wrath of the British Empire?"

"YES!"

"Shall we raise the Union Jack on top of the highest spire in that far off-castle?"

"YES!"

"Then remember who you fight for today! Remember that the eyes of the Empire are watching you! Act like Englishmen, and fight bravely! Show mercy to the enemy wounded; civilians are not to feel our wrath! Save that for the Ministry pigs!" he called out. Laughter rippled through the ranks

"I will not lie to you, men, this fight is different from the last one. The enemy then underestimated us and paid for it," he stated, his face far more serious, "Some of us will die. Our enemy knows our capabilities and will probably try to negate them. But remember, cold British steel and bravery will overcome Ministry magic any day!"

Cheers rang out at those words.

"Now then, my brothers! Onwards! Onwards to Hogwarts! Our brothers await!" he yelled amidst cheers, "Onwards! Let Hogwarts fall! God save the Queen! God save the Empire!"

As the troops lurched forward, cries of "God save the Queen!" and "God save the Empire!" rang out.

Britain was marching to war.

Hogwarts, four hours later…

The first thing that warned the Ministry's Aurors of the oncoming army was the sound.

Like rumbling thunder, the marching noise of the Royal troops slowly crept forward, slowly reaching the grounds of Hogsmeade. It was loud, and it shook the very earth beneath the defenders, worrying and frightening them.

On the walls, Auror Shacklebolt, also the part-time Defense teacher of Hogwarts, looked at the horizon with worried eyes. He was trained to fight wand-wielding criminals who were not willing to die for their crimes; cowards who would surrender once their more courageous members fell. This was different, however. These men that now came to kill him and his fellow Aurors seemed to have no fear.

And it frightened him.

The red coated soldiers marched on with such discipline as Shacklebolt had never seen before; even Aurors had no such discipline. He'd heard the rumors about the army's siege up north, too. The Death Eaters, scum though they might be, had fired spell after spell at the army, only to have the army calmly march right up to position, regardless of their losses, and pour fire and steel into the defenders. As far as he'd heard, not a single Death Eater was left alive.

That alone made him shiver.

This wasn't what he was trained for. He was a policeman, not a soldier. Sure, he was a volunteer in the Order, but that was, at its very best, a vigilante group, not an army. The wizarding world had no army. Well, the wizarding world as Fudge and his cohorts saw it. As far as Shacklebolt was concerned, those men coming towards him were members of the wizarding world too; they were simply here to suppress a rebellion.

For probably the twentieth time in that hour, Shacklebolt sighed. Beside him, Tonks cast a worried look at her partner.

"Worried?" she asked in a mocking tone, in a half-hearted attempt to lighten things up.

"I just don't like being on the wrong side," replied Shacklebolt.

On his other side, Auror Savage tore his eyes from the village of Hogsmeade in the horizon towards his superior.

"You think we're in the wrong, sir?" he asked. His own partner, Dawlish (who was currently getting orders from Fudge), kept claiming that they were about to put down the rebels.

Shacklebolt raised an eyebrow at the inquiry. "Aren't we, Savage?" he retorted, "Those men out there have a mandate from the legitimate sovereign of the English territories, and we've just incarcerated 500 of their troops. If we'd done the same with our own Aurors, we'd have been jailed in Azkaban," he informed the younger man with a curt tone. He didn't mind Savage, but the man's constant exposure to Dawlish made him at best a wishy-washy man of unknown loyalties.

To his credit, though, Savage seemed to nod ponderously. He seemed about to ask another question when a shout went up from one of the wall's towers.

"Army in Hogsmeade!"

Immediately, everyone's eyes swung over to Hogsmeade where, indeed, red coated and green coated men were marching in line down the streets, followed then by blue-coated men that were escorting the large artillery pieces. Upon sight of the drawn Leviathan pieces, many of the Aurors on the walls began pale.

"Merlin, the size of those buggers…" muttered Tonks as she paled.

"They're not what I'm worried about," Shacklebolt told his partner, though he too seemed to look a bit sick.

Tonks managed to tear her eyes away from the artillery pieces to look at her partner in the eye. "Then what does?"

Shacklebolt turned his eyes towards the lake. "Where are their ships?"

No one answered.