Excerpt from Chapter 5, "The Hogwarts Year"
"…I remember grandfather telling me of the time the RNA was stationed in Hogwarts. At the time, it all seemed dreadfully dull but as I think on it now, it all seems so important. It was, I can see, a turning point in the way the Imperial Council would regard the Magical world. I remember the bitterness he talked with when thinking on those times, and I always wondered why he carried such a grudge. After all, were they not fighting on the same side? It wasn't until years later, when the government decided to come clean, that certain documents were released that told us that many events during this time were covered up, including an incident which left my granddad very bitter…"
The next few weeks passed without much fuss, with students going about their daily schedules practically on a mechanical basis, while Harry's troops drilled all day long, unless one particular group of them were sent off on missions.
So far, however, no conflict had arisen between the Imperial forces and the student body of Hogwarts; much to the frustration of Albus Dumbledore.
The peaceful cooperation between student and soldier put a huge dent in his plans to alienate Harry from the student body and his troops. Not even the Malfoy boy had dared overtly insult or provoke the troops; for he knew too well that they were just itching for an excuse to have him put against a wall and shot.
The worse part was that Dumbledore did not have the authority to overrule such an action.
In essence, Dumbledore was slowly becoming a prisoner within his own school, being restricted to the rules set down by the military, which the troops enforced with an iron fist.
Several times now, some students had been caught wandering too close to the troop encampments on both sides of the lake, and every time, the troops politely escorted the students back.
But now, the first real challenge was going to occur, as the first Hogsmeade weekend approached.
If the students could restrain their enthusiasm long enough for them to be escorted to the gates, then the peace would be maintained.
However, if some misguided student made any sudden moves with his/her wand, then the peace could easily be broken.
Personally, Dumbledore wished for the latter.
"Why do we have to do this?" whined Ron as the students heading to Hogsmeade assembled in the courtyard under the steely supervision of professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Like I told you for the past fifteen times, Ronald, we're doing this because we need to cross the troop encampment near the gates. They don't want us to wander" she explained, rather frustrated with having to repeat herself every five minutes.
"Oh, give up, Hermione," snickered Ginny, "If you haven't convinced him after the first three times, it's a lost cause" Beside her, Neville chuckled. Ron glared at the two.
"What's this?" drawled a voice behind him. As they turned around, they saw the smirking face of Draco Malfoy, "Have you Weasleys finally realized how laughable it is to be poor and associate with Mudbloods?"
Ron growled and made a move to reach for his wand, but Hermione caught his arm before he could, while Ginny and Neville merely glared at Draco. Draco merely smirked wider as he saw the inaction of the group.
"What's the matter? Finally realized you can't hope to defeat a pureblood like me, blood traitors?" he goaded, not realizing that as he did, a looming shadow was slowly covering him from behind.
In fact, Draco started to get confused when he noticed that each of his enemies were beginning to pale as they looked at something behind him. Slowly, Draco turned around to meet the imposing figure of one of the Highlander sergeants, halberd in hand and all. The man was glaring down at Draco severely, making the teen gulp audibly.
"What do ya think you're doing, boy?" asked the sergeant, "Inciting trouble, eh? That won't do; no, that won't do at all," leered the Scotsman, whose fingers were absentmindedly stroking the halberd pole, "I do believe you'll be staying at school for this. Yes, wouldn't do to have troublemakers be allowed to walk with disciplined students."
Malfoy gaped at the man as the Scotsman turned to have a word with one of the teachers who, after listening at the explanation and trying to convince the Scotsman to retract his ruling, sighed in defeat with slumped shoulders and nodded. Malfoy slowly purpled at the sight, and was about to begin ranting loudly when the teacher's eyes shot to him and glared furiously, slightly motioning towards her sides. Looking both ways, Malfoy paled as he saw that every single assigned soldier was looking at him intently, as if hoping he would make a false move.
Deciding to show he was a true Slytherin, he gathered up whatever dignity he had left and turned on his heel, stomping his way back inside.
Many of the soldiers sighed disappointedly as they turned back to surveying the crowd.
For her part, Hermione looked at the sergeant gratefully, "Thank you, sir"
The older man looked at her with a gaze of serene calm, "I didn't do it for you, lass. Had you or your friends pulled out wands, you'd be sent back in as well," he informed her gruffly before turning and resuming his patrolling.
Neville whistled under his breath, "They sure take their duties seriously," he remarked.
Hermione and the rest could do nothing more than nod.
The march towards the main gate was a quiet one, with some conversation occurring here and there, but most students seem to be in silent agreement not to say anything, lest it provoke their escort.
As the file progressed, the students took note of a group of redcoats who were forming up far to their right, near the Quidditch pitch. As if sensing the unasked question, the sergeant leading the column loudly explained that they were training.
In an act of goodwill, the sergeant allowed the column to stop as they watched the redcoats file up into the two-rank system they were used to. There were approximately one hundred and fifty soldiers in total, most students estimated.
"Soldiers!" they could hear, "Make ready!"
As one, the soldiers slammed their musket butts down to the ground and speedily loaded their weapons. Once they were done, they put them back against their shoulders.
"Present!" the officer called, his saber now in the air. As one, the unit put their rifles at shoulder height and took aim at some invisible target.
"FIRE!"
Almost every student jumped in the air or to the ground as a collective roll of thunder-like noise exploded. Smoke rose from the barrels of the muskets as the officer seemed to take note of something, before turning his attention back to his men. "Reload!" he barked.
And again, the soldiers repeated the routine, up to when the officer cried, "FIRE!" again. Once again, the students jumped.
From their position at the head of the column, Hermione and the others heard the sergeant chuckle with some of his men.
"Getting slow, aren't they?" remarked the sergeant, to the laughter of the others.
"Aye. McDoughy's company can fire quicker. Four shots in a minute per line, last I heard."
"Old Dough still has that record?" asked one of the other soldiers, "Didn't Avery's company beat him? Four shots in fifty, from what I heard."
The sergeant gave the man a condescending smile, "Four in fifty? Nah. T'aint possible. Someone must've had you on."
Everyone, even the soldier who made the remark, laughed at that. Beside her, Ron looked at Hermione with a confused look.
"Are they mad, Hermione? What the bloody hell are they talking about?" he asked.
Hermione gave him a sharp gaze, "Language, Ron!" she chided, before explaining, "They must be talking about how many times they can shoot in a minute, from what I understand of military terminology," she reasoned.
Ron gave her an odd look. "What's so special about that?"
Ginny gave her brother a look of amazement. "Are you really this dense, Ron?" she asked, making Neville chuckle, "How many times do you think you can fire spells per minute?"
Ron shrugged. "Dunno. Once? Maybe twice?" he guessed, though he had a feeling where this was going.
Ginny nodded, "Right. So, if you can fire a spell twice in a minute, but these men can fire four times, who do you think is most likely to get hit?"
Ron blanched. "Oh."
"Ron's not really our best caster, though, Ginny…" noted Neville. Ginny nodded reluctantly; Neville had a point.
"Aurors can probably match them for firing rate," ventured Ron somewhat meekly, still a feeling a bit foolish about his earlier remark.
Neville seemed to consider this before nodding. "They probably could. 'Course, while Aurors can only fire so much, these blokes have tons of ammunition to keep them going for a long time."
Ginny nodded at that, while Ron seemed to mull this over.
"Although…their rotating fire techniques seems to compensate for that," remarked Ginny suddenly. Hermione shot her a curious look at that.
"Rotating fire? How did you know that?" asked the bushy-haired brunette curiously.
Ginny looked at her in confusion for a moment before quickly saying, "Heard it. From one of the boys in Ravenclaw."
Hermione seemed about to ask something else before Ron cut in. "What's rotating fire?"
Again, all three of his friends turned to look at him incredulously. This time, it was Hermione who took up the explanation.
"Rotating fire, Ron, is a technique that was developed by the Japanese for the use of slow-loading muskets," she lectured. Ron, despite himself, actually paid attention this time.
"The concept is that by itself, a musket is slow to load and fire. However, if grouped into a series of lines, the first line can reload while the second line fires. As such, instead of having a single line fire four shots a minute," she continued, before being interrupted by Ginny.
"…you get twice as many, or even three times as many shots in a single minute," the fiery redhead ended. She pointedly ignored Hermione's glare.
Hermione sighed as she shook her head. "It still doesn't seem right to garrison an army in a school. We aren't even at war!"
Neville took up this one. "Not at war, Hermione? Do you even know what war is?"
Hermione looked scandalized at Neville's insinuation. "Of course I know what war is!" she nearly shrieked, "It's the state of armed conflict between two more or nations!"
Neville looked at her sadly as he shook his head slowly. "War isn't just between two nations, 'Mione," he told her sadly, "If that were true, then those who lost people during Voldemort's last reign would not have lost their loved ones"
"War happens everywhere. Between two people, five, ten, one hundred, one thousand, millions, billions. It destroys and it builds; it kills and gives birth; it encompasses everything and everyone," he lectured, to her disbelief,
"But—"
"These men," he continued, interrupting her as he waved in the direction of the talking soldiers, "have been trained to kill. They were taken from their families or volunteered, but they can never return to society as just another person. They've blood on their hands. But with that blood, they make us safe. The Death Eaters have declared war on the Wizarding and Muggle world, 'Mione, make no mistake. These men are here because if they weren't, we'd be worse off."
Hermione looked shocked as Neville finished his lecture, and some of the soldiers who'd overheard looked impressed with the young man. Even the rough sergeant was nodding approvingly. The men, however, snapped to attention as they looked at someone beside Neville.
As the group turned around, they were shocked to see Harry on a horse, looking down at Neville with approval. Beside him, on another horse, was Blackthorne, who was giving the teen an agreeable smile.
"An excellent speech, Mr. Longbottom," praised Harry, "Wouldn't you say so, Blackthorne?"
"Most excellent indeed, sir" agreed the older man.
"I daresay you might make a career in the army, Mr. Longbottom," carried on Harry, barely taking notice of his advisor's agreement, "Only soldiers understand soldiers."
Neville blushed as he ducked his head, "It was nothing, sir."
Harry laughed, "Nonsense! It was one of the best lectures I've heard on the subject!" he added, "Most of the others always have to do with either logical reasoning for armies or some wild crackpot religious basis for war. No, that was an insightful look into the aspect of war," he remarked, making the teen blush even more.
After pausing a moment, Harry smiled at the teen once more before reigning in his horses and getting ready to ride off. "I would be honored if you would dine with me tonight in my tent, Mr. Longbottom. You may bring, of course, a guest," he offered before turning to the sergeant.
"Sergeant!"
"Sir!"
"I assume all's well with the escort?"
"Very well, sir! We had to send back the Malfoy boy, sir, but other than that, very well, sir!"
Harry nodded approvingly. "Good, carry on. I'm sure these students would like to spend the rest of the day at the town, sergeant."
"Yes, sir!"
With that, Harry and Blackthorne nodded to the group of students once more, saluted the sergeant, and then rode off towards the encampment ahead.
"He invited Mr. Longbottom to diner, you say?" asked the Headmaster that same afternoon to professor Sinistra, who had been present when the offer was made.
The young witch nodded as she blushed slightly at the memory of the young Colonel. "He was most impressed with Mr. Longbottom's rhetoric," she remarked.
Dumbledore merely gave a grunt of absent assent. What worried him more was the possibility of his two candidates for the Prophecy becoming friends, especially when one of them was clearly not willing to work very closely with himself, while the other wasn't as deep in his grasp as he liked.
"I have it understood that Mr. Longbottom will be taking Ms. Weasley with him, tonight," added Sinistra helpfully. Dumbledore gave another absent motion of assent before going back to his thoughts.
'Perhaps the situation is not unsalvageable. Surely, the Potter boy cannot bring Longbottom into his camp in one night. Maybe if I turn Longbottom into my own voice…' he mused, 'Yes, that will have to do. I'll begin tomorrow.'
Turning his thoughts back to reality, Dumbledore turned to his youngest staff member and nodded. "Please inform Minerva that I need to see Mr. Longbottom tomorrow morning, after breakfast, Aurora. That will be all."
With the clear dismissal, Sinistra bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement before she turned and left the room.
Dumbledore, for his part, walked over to his pensieve and began to mull over his thoughts as he dropped yet another memory into the stone basin.
'The Potter boy is more wily than I first gave him credit for…' he admitted to himself. 'But surely, he cannot know of the prophecy where his destiny is foretold…'
Dumbledore narrowed his gaze at the pensieve as a thought struck him. 'Or can he?'
He quickly shook his head. 'No…he cannot. I've told no one of it, and Severus wouldn't dream of voluntarily coming within fifteen miles of him or his family.'
Dumbledore now paced his room. 'So they're acting without foreknowledge of the boy's destiny…this could be detrimental to the cause…'
He stopped as his gaze fell back onto the pensieve. 'Perhaps using the Longbottom boy as a link to his heritage will not be enough. I wonder if the boy's still single…?'
However, as his eyes fell on Gryffindor Tower through his window, a recurring thought wormed its way back into his mind. 'What do you have in Gryffindor Tower that you so desire, Harry Potter?' he thought. 'Tell me, so that I may deprive you of it.'
Meanwhile, in Harry's Tent…
Harry took a sip of wine as he regarded his guests. Seated in front of him were Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley. Last he'd seen Neville had been back in 1993, near the end of the 1992-1993 school year, when he had saved Ginny's life.
"I trust everything has been well at Hogwarts these past few years?" he asked casually.
Neville grinned. "If by 'well' you mean, does the old man know about what we're doing for you, then yes. It has been a good few years, Harry," answered the teen. Harry grinned back.
"He has no clue?"
"None" answered Ginny this time, smiling at Harry. "Neville here's been posing as my boyfriend, so we've been generally left alone."
Harry raised an eyebrow at that, "Indeed?" he mused as he turned to Neville, "I trust you haven't gone beyond your duty in safeguarding that secret? This is my wife we're talking about here, Nev."
Neville grinned. "Nah. People assume we've snogged and whatnot, but we've never actually done anything," he informed his long-time friend. Beside him, Ginny giggled.
"Are you jealous, Mr. Potter?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows, making him laugh.
"Should I be, Mrs. Potter?" he retorted with a grin.
Ginny merely gave him a smile. "It really has been too long since we've seen you, Harry," she stated, to which Neville nodded.
Harry sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am sorry about that, you know. But, with the assignments at the IMI and my tour of duty being activated during that time, I really couldn't find any free time," he apologized, "Truly, I did want to come here to see you two, but I'd rather it not have been here," he added, scowling a bit as his gaze went towards the tent flap, which pointed towards the castle.
Ginny put a reassuring hand on his own, smiling at him. "We understand, Harry. We really do," she told him, making Neville nod again. "Besides, with what you've asked of us, there's never a truly boring moment in this school."
Neville smirked at that. "She's right. We find dirt on everyone every passing day. We could probably blackmail the entire castle by this point. Ghosts included," he claimed, making Harry laugh and Ginny giggle.
"So how have the others been?" he asked.
Neville shrugged. "Blaise and his Slytherin team are ok, I guess. We don't meet as often as we would like because it would look suspicious. Susan and Hannah are great, as far as I know," he added, blushing slightly at the mention of Susan Bones, which Harry noted.
"Cheating on my wife, Longbottom?" he asked with a smirk.
Neville returned it. "Says the man who hasn't announced to the world who his wife is. Or that he's married, for that matter," retorted the teen, making Harry laugh.
"Touché" granted Harry before turning to Ginny and smiling softly. "How about from your end? How are the others?
Ginny shrugged as well. "Fred and George are ok, I guess. They left school, though. Opened a joke shop in Diagon Alley. That's their public face, anyway. Whenever they can, though, they're mass producing the rifles that Maximilian gave them," she told him, making him nod approvingly, "Colin and his brother are fine, too. Hyperactive as ever, but fine. Seamus is as rowdy as ever, but Dean's trying to control him. Luna is…well...Luna, I guess. She still writes the reports, though. Ernie and Zach are ok, I guess. I don't meet with them very often, and Susan and Hannah tend to tell us what those two are up to," she reported.
Harry nodded with a smile. "Good. Now then, any information on our resident Death Eater spawn?"
Neville shook his head. "As far as we can tell, they've been laying low. Even after Malfoy Senior was identified positively as a Death Eater, Draco is still allowed within the school," he reported with a snort of disgust.
Harry nodded, "I was wondering about that. Who--?"
"Dumbledore" answered Ginny to the unasked question, "He's hell bent on trying to make the Death Eater children to sway from the dark. Noticeably, he's failing. Miserably."
Neville frowned at her, "That's a little unfair, though, Ginny. Blaise and Daphne aren't dark.
Ginny rolled her eyes, "But they aren't Light, either. Nor are we, if you'll recall," she added, nudging her head towards Harry's direction. "We're royalists, like Harry. We're both Light and Dark."
Harry chuckled at that, as did Neville.
"That reminds me, Gin, Mum says hi," he told her, making her smile radiantly
"You got to see her?" she asked, excitedly. She and Lily Potter had gotten on very well since their first meeting. According James Potter, it had been because they were nearly identical in all things but looks. That had, of course, resulted in him being smacked by two scowling witches. "When? Why didn't you tell me this last time?" she added.
"Three weeks ago. Before we shipped out. And I forgot to tell you last time because I forgot, dear, in the heat of the moment" he deadpanned.
Neville laughed at that, while Ginny blushed at the memory.
And so they continued for the next hour or so, bantering back and forth before they went down to strict business.
"What's our next move, then, Harry?" asked Neville, nodding when Blackthorne entered the tent and greeted both him and Ginny. Blackthorne looked interestedly at Harry at that.
Harry leaned back in his chair as he considered his plans.
"For now, we'll continue our current routine. The troops stay where they are and man the walls, while leaving the castle alone. However, with some Death Eater incursions occurring all over Scotland, some of them may be leaving the grounds from time to time," he told them.
"However, when December hits, that's when our plans change," he noted.
"Colonel?" prompted Blackthorne, a confused look on his face.
"Recall the information my father sent us three days ago. It marks the location of a Death Eater stronghold in Scotland. While I'd rather attack during a warmer season, this fortress is most invulnerable during that time due to a large river cutting access to it from land," he stated as he stood up and retrieved a map from his desk and unrolled it on the (now) cleared table.
"If we attack during the warmer season, we'll be bogged down by the water and need to pass it by boats, which is incredibly foolhardy, since that means they can shoot down large scores of men in small areas. That is unacceptable. Therefore, we will be attacking during December, when the river's water will freeze," he explained as he drew a pointer to its full length and then put its tip on the bank opposite the fortress.
"Our troops will be moving in a line, so as to distribute the weight on the ice accordingly and thus safeguarding its integrity. The problem with our current situation, however, is that I need approximately 90 of my troops to perform this siege," he told them, emphasizing the percentage to his audience, all of whom seemed to understand his message.
"You're afraid Dumbledore will try something while you're out," stated Ginny softly. Harry nodded grimly.
"It will be an ideal situation for him, as I'll also need my ships with me, leaving the garrison here severely undefended against Dumbledore, should he try anything," he added, collapsing the pointer. "At best, only about three hundred to four hundred muskets and only one hundred rifles will be here. That's easy to overwhelm with his Order and maybe some Ministry assistance."
"You think the Ministry will aid Dumbledore?" asked Blackthorne, somewhat surprised.
Harry looked at Blackthorne with a raised eyebrow. "Of course they will. Fudge hates me, Joachim. He'll probably get together with Dumbledore sometime during early December and plot the capture of my men. Probably arrest them under some bogus charge."
"Wouldn't the men from the Seventy-Ninth and Ninety-Sixth be able to keep them at bay, though? I mean, sure, it's a small amount of troops, but surely they can keep Aurors and the Order away, right?" he suggested. Harry shook his head slowly.
"Unfortunately, even if I left my five hundred best shooters behind, they would still be overwhelmed. Remember, Neville, they're not expecting to be attacked from the inside, and even if I did warn them, ammo does run out eventually, and the Auror forces are fairly large. Eventually, the Aurors would overpower my men, especially with the assistance of Dumbledore's lackeys."
"Too bad the Forty-Fifth was recalled, then," observed Blackthorne. Harry nodded in agreement.
"Of course, this is all speculative, but my gut tells me that Dumbledore will take his chance when I leave," he concluded to the group. Blackthorne nodded in agreement with his logic, as did Neville and Ginny.
"What are we going to do then?" asked Neville.
"Well, if he does take out my men, I want you and the others to look after them and stash the firearms at the emergency cache," answered Harry.
"What about you? What are you going to do if Dumbledore takes over?" asked Ginny worriedly. He was, after all, her husband.
Harry grinned evilly. "Remember that siege equipment we brought from Canada?" he asked them. The resulting grins' feral nature told him they did.
From: The Dark Wars, by Clarence Horatio Winters
Excerpt from Chapter 9, "Rate of Fire – Imperial Fire Superiority"
"…I remember once asking a scholar at Oxford University why the Imperial Army's rate of fire never seemed to be matched by the Dark Wizards. I also remember him looking at me suspiciously, as if I was speaking some great blasphemy, before he sighed and answered me. According to him, a wizard's rate of fire was heavily dependent on the amount of power put into the spell. A quick, cutting curse could be cast in less than a second, but the wizard should then proportionately expect it to do nothing but give the enemy a small cut. A larger spell, then, would take longer to cast, sometimes taking up to thirty second for the inexperienced wizard. A trained wizard, on the other hand, could fire a good-dosed spell once every fifteen seconds (This is what is considered to be a Hogwarts graduate's ability). The only exceptions to this rule, however, were wizards and witches who were sufficiently familiarized with their core that great amounts of power could be drawn quickly. These exceptions included Harry Potter and his wife, Ginny Potter (though only later in life in the latter's case); Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort; and Albus Dumbledore.
Imperial troops, on the other hand, were not given to such a weakness, as their entire firing capability was based on ME bullet firing weaponry. As such, all that was needed in their case was sufficient drilling (which could be accomplished in far less time) so as to be able to fire in quick succession. This, expounded the scholar, combined with the rotating-fire tactics that so characterized Harry Potter's leadership, negated the wizards' ability to achieve fire superiority…"