AN: It seems to me that no matter how much I try to make this clear, the message simply refuses to go through. "This" being a reference to the firing capabilities of wizards. As per the chapter I posted previously, I explicitly stated, through the use of Neville and Ginny, that while soldiers can, indeed, fire faster than students, a normal Auror can easily match a soldier and even beat them. However, as Ginny stated then, the use of rotating fire tactics doubles, and even sometimes, triples, the amount of shots fired by a single line.

And before I have reviews clamoring evidence from OotP, let us remember that,

1) Those students had been under the constant training of the DA for the better part of the year, training themselves to be faster. In this timeline, there has never been a need for the DA, and so Ron, Hermione, and (as far as everyone else knows) Neville and Ginny are all casting at the speed and power of a typical teenager--that is to say, not powerful to be dangerous (unless the spell is designed to cause bodily harm no matter the power, like Crucio) but not weak enough to be pathetic.

2) As far as most are concerned, the DE's haven't reached the level where they are considered a National Threat, unlike in Book 5 or 6, where a National Alert is proclaimed. To most, the DE's are nothing but a horrible memory of times long past. Only the OotP, the Imperials, and the Minister know better. As a result (and due in part to Fudge's reluctance to commit to any sort of action), there hasn't been much of an emphasis on Auror training, causing their power-speed casting capabilities to go down.

As for the few of you who show disappointment in Dumbledore's visible cunning, please remember the following,

1) Dumbledore has never had an opponent (except for Voldemort, who, by all apparent accounts, is dead) who could match him play for play in manipulation and intelligence gathering, and so is off-balance when dealing with this Harry Potter.

2) I haven't shown you everything that's been going on with the Headmaster. A lot of his manipulations have nothing to do with Harry Potter, and everything to do with future events. Sure, he wants Harry under his control, but at the same time, remember that he's trying to discredit the young general and bring down the Imperials (or at least make them leave the Magical World).

Also, on the issue of the fic's pairing. Yes, I'm aware that many of you don't much care for the youngest Weasley, but in this case, I have to say that she fits the mold needed for Harry's companion the most. If any other character had to be chosen to pair Harry with, the next in line would have been Luna, followed by some undeveloped character. However, Hermione was eliminated from the equation the moment I decided to write this story. The following explains why:

1) We are talking about the continuing existence of the British Empire. For someone as liberal-minded as Hermione, its very existence would be heinous. The Harry I've created, however, is a staunch conservative (inasmuch as Empire is concerned) and a Loyalist. The two simply won't fit.

2) Assuming I disregarded Hermione's liberalism, she would never condone Harry's orders to kill any enemy on sight and spare no mercy, irregardless of his reasons. Ginny (or any other character, since they've been undeveloped), on the other hand, would be far more receptive, since she understands where Harry is coming from and knows certain things are worth killing and dying for

Unfortunately, in my drive to bring you Harry's story, I am unable to show more than glimpses of Ginny's character as of yet. Please remember that this is a Harry-centric story, and so, other than the occasional POV jump, his is the most important, and to him, Ginny's proven herself capable enough to his satisfaction. However, keep in mind that Ginny is Harry's spymaster, has been running an amateur spyring under the Headmaster's nose, and been informing Harry on every move being made inside the castle. Despite this, she can still tease, laugh, be kind, and overall, act like a teenager.

Also, in regards to the following vignette, please remember that the Potters are clearly biased in their post-war accounts.

From: Love and War: The Story of Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley, by Alexandra Rose Potter

Excerpt from Foreword, "Stories of the Past"

"…I remember, even now as I write this, how my grandfather used to tell me stories about my ancestors, Harry Potter and his wife Ginny Potter, née Weasley. As a little girl, I used to revel in the stories of my family's past, but the one story that always struck a chord in my heart was that of my great-great grandparents. Whenever I now read romance novels or hear of a particular Muggle movie that details a romantic plot, I always find these fictional accounts horribly wanting as compared to the true, everlasting story of love between my great-great grandparents. It also helped that grandfather was a very good story teller and even, up until his 17th birthday, knew his great-grandparents, though they died shortly afterwards, to the despair of their loved ones.

I tried to remain impartial as I wrote their story, but I must admit it was hard as every person I asked; every book I read; every picture I saw said the same thing: The love between Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley was total, all-encompassing, and true. When my grandfather showed me the picture of their second wedding (which my great-great grandfather organized after the war, "to give her the wedding she deserved and not one of shadows and intrigue"), I was 16; upon seeing it, however, I remember being so moved by the total rapture on their faces as they gazed at each other that I was moved to tears. They were tears of joy, yes, but also of sadness, and longing—for I have always held deep the wish of meeting my ancestors.

Their legacy, as can be asserted by any Potter alive, remains firm to this day. Not just the brick and stone monuments at Trafalgar Square or the fortress of Griffin's Keep, our family seat, but in the very manner of being, of feeling, of seeing, believing, and loving that we Potters have tried hard to make our characterizing traits.

All I can hope is that I, another humble storyteller from a line of storytellers, can do justice to their story…"

Two months later…

The two months following Harry's meeting with Neville and Ginny passed by quickly. As Harry had ordered, the army and his operatives remained as routine as possible, though the flow of information coming from his operatives steadily did show signs of Ministry-Dumbledore cooperation. The first sign had shown up a week before Halloween, when Fudge had a secret meeting with Dumbledore, which, of course, his operatives managed to record with the charms, spells, and devices they'd put into place in Dumbledore's office.

From there, Dumbledore and Fudge had met every other week, and always on random days of the week. By Halloween, Fudge did not seem to bother hiding his presence in the school anymore. The reports remained consistent, though.

The Ministry was willing to work with Dumbledore to evict the royalist presence from Hogwarts and the United Kingdom.

But the two months weren't just work for Harry and his friends. On interspersed days, Harry invited Neville and Ginny to diner or lunch, continuing with the cover that Harry had been impressed with Neville's rhetoric.

By the second meeting, however, Neville had told him that Dumbledore had approached him and tried to sway him over to his side; probably in the hopes of using him to lure Harry over. The three had a good laugh at that. Harry did, however, ask Neville to seem like he was agreeing with Dumbledore.

Once or twice after that, Harry even invited Susan Bones to dine with the group, much to Neville's embarrassment and Ginny and Harry's amusement. Susan's excuse for the headmaster was that Harry had been told about her acute abilities in healing charms, which had triggered Harry's curiosity.

By the second time they'd all met, Susan had told them that she was being asked by the headmaster to use her…wiles to lure Harry away from military service. The resulting laugh had Harry and Ginny breathless and Neville clutching his chest in pain as his breathing shortened.

Fortunately for the Potters, though, Harry was able to secure two nights every week for he and his wife to relax together during the evening, always making sure that she returned unseen with the help of the other operatives or Harry's own men.

After all, a satisfied general was a clear-headed one.

By the time November hit, however, Harry began to change the routine of his army. Donning the winter wear assigned to them, he began ordering winter drills performed daily and as frequent as possible, including trench digging and siege tactics. As a measure of comfort and to alleviate the men's load, however, he did order warming charms to be placed upon the soldiers' tents. The uniforms themselves already had them.

It was while watching one of these drills, a siege artillery drill to be precise, that Dumbledore approached Harry about the change in routine.

"We've found a Death Eater stronghold further north, headmaster," Harry had told the older man, "Come December, we're marching north to eradicate it, as per my orders. Don't worry, though, we'll be leaving a small garrison behind to safeguard the school."

From that day on, Harry's operatives had reported nearly daily sightings of Fudge in Hogwarts.

Finally, December hit and Harry ordered the preparations to march to begin. Almost as soon as the word was spread to the camps did chaos erupt in them as soldiers scrambled to pack their spare uniforms, ammo, tents, cooking utensils, and other miscellaneous items in their packs.

As Harry sat in his tent signing the last orders for the ships, which were to submerge and reappear on a position behind the stronghold, Dumbledore walked in with Blackthorne at his side, looking at the man warily and with a hand at his pistol at his side.

"Good afternoon, headmaster" greeted Harry as he finished signing the document and turned to look at the aged man, folding his hands on his lap. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he inquired calmly and devoid of emotion, showing that the pleasure stated was gone on permanent vacation as far as his presence was involved.

Dumbledore internally winced at the cool reception but kept a smiling expression on the outside. "I heard you were leaving, Colonel," remarked Dumbledore, "I just wished to know what was to be done about the defense of the school."

Harry nodded slowly, thinking 'Defense indeed, you manipulative old goat!' "I am leaving behind five hundred men for garrison duty, headmaster. Four hundred muskets and one hundred rifles. They will be under the command of Captains McAllen and Lyles, respectively. They answer, of course, to me; even after I'm gone," he informed the headmaster.

Dumbledore nodded, appearing nonchalant but thinking at rapid speeds on the inside; calculating how many he needed to perform his little takeover. "Very well, Colonel. Will my school be needing to provide anything for the men on garrison duty?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "I find it too cold as it is for my men. While I am gone, I will expect you to feed my men in the Great Hall and provide adequate rooming for them. Every day, they will return to their posts and remain there until meal time, when a small guard will be left at their positions while the rest eat, and then switch with the small guard. When 11:00 PM strikes, my men, with the exception of that night's sentries, will return to the abodes which you will assign to them. I assume there will be no troubles or complaints when I return, headmaster?" he asked archly as he raised an eyebrow.

Dumbledore could only nod, already making plans on exactly where he would be keeping the Potter boy's army. The dungeons would do quite nicely.

Harry nodded as he waved a dismissive hand. "Very well then. Thank you for your visit, headmaster. Unfortunately, I have more paperwork to attend to," he stated dismissively as he returned to his work while Blackthorne escorted Dumbledore outside.

Once he was back within the castle, Dumbledore made a dash for his office, where he stooped to the fireplace and threw a handful of Floo powder, stating clearly, "Minister of Magic's office!"

Back at Harry's Tent

"You do know that he's probably contacting Fudge right now, right?" asked Blackthorne as he stepped back into the tent, appreciating the warmth of it with a contented sigh.

Harry didn't even look up from his work. "Of course he is. I told you he'd do so nearly three months ago," he informed his subordinate.

"It doesn't even worry you a bit that you're leaving five hundred good men at his mercy?" asked Blackthorne as he looked at the campaign map once more.

Harry shook his head. "They're good men. They'll perform wonderfully. Even if they are captured, Ginny, Neville, and the others will look after them," he told the older man as he scratched away at the paper with his quill. "Besides, we know the Aurors will not dare use lethal spells on the men. They'd make themselves look like the bad guys."

"And besides," added Harry as he stopped writing and turned to look at Blackthorne, "Can you imagine the rallying effect this will have on the rest? Imagine how they'll fight once they learn that Dumbledore has effectively betrayed us and captured five hundred of their brothers in arms."

Blackthorne merely smiled as he shook his head slowly, disbelievingly. "You're scary sometimes, Harry. Brilliant and ruthless, but scary."

Harry merely smiled innocently as he returned to his work.

Day of Departure (Day 1)

Harry stood at the top of the Hogwarts gates as he watched his men walk in column below. He was wearing his heavy winter coat, and every breathe he drew caused a tiny burst of condensation smoke to billow from his mouth. He looked at his men's organized marching for a moment before turning to the two Majors he was leaving behind; Lyles and McAllen.

"You understand the situation, then?" he asked them. Both men nodded at attention.

"We understand, sir! We'll be on the lookout for the old man's men, sir!" exclaimed the younger of the two Captains, Lyles.

Harry nodded. "Good. Remember, fire at them as you would Death Eaters. They will be committing treason against Her Majesty, and we do not suffer traitors to live. Also, remember that they'll be unwilling to use lethal force against you," he told them before giving them a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Keep to your training, mark your targets well, and you'll do fine. If, in the even you do get overwhelmed, my men on the inside will take care of you."

Both men saluted and he dismissed them with a similar salute. He then turned to Blackthorne, who stood beside him. "Everything ready, then?" he asked.

The older man nodded. "Artillery just went through the gates, sir. The army is now fully deployed."

Harry was about to nod when searing pain shot through his head, making him wince as he grabbed his head.

Flashback

Jungle.

Thick jungle.

Running steps.

Screams.

Darkness.

A horrible grin.

Shots.

Death.

Pain.

Blood.

Whispered words.

Nothingness.

Silence.

We will return…

End Flashback

When Harry cleared his sight, he noticed he was looking up at the sky. Confused, he scrunched his brow for a moment before Blackthorne's face came into view.

"Sir?"

Harry blinked. "Joachim? Where am I?"

Blackthorne gave him a worried look. "You're on the ground, sir. You collapsed."

Harry gave him an incredulous look, which Joachim returned with a shrug. Harry quickly shook his head before sitting up. He briefly looked up to see Blackthorne holding out his hand, which he took gratefully and lifted himself up.

"Right, then. What was the last thing you said?" asked Harry.

"The army's deployed, sir," repeated Blackthorne before giving him another worried look. "Sir? Shouldn't you rest?"

"Excellent," Harry nodded, ignoring Blackthorne's question altogether. "Come, then. We have an appointment with a certain Death Eater stronghold, and I would hate to be late."

Blackthorne put his worries aside and gave a feral smile at that. "Of course, sir."

With that, both men descended from the walls and mounted their horses, and were soon off towards the head of the column.

Three Days later (Day 4)

"Stronghold ahead, sir! Looks fully manned!"

The Imperial Army had finally reached the Death Eater stronghold in northern Scotland, but rather than finding their target half-manned or barely manned, Harry now saw that its walls were crawling with defenders.

Swearing as he collapsed his telescope, he turned from his lookout point to look at his officers. Blackthorne, unfortunately, was not present, as Harry's father had requested the attaché's help in the search for the artifact that held Voldemort's soul.

"We've been set up, gentlemen," he announced calmly, to the scowls of the officers. "Clearly, someone has tipped off the enemy that we were coming. Unfortunately, we cannot turn back."

"If we do not attack now, we will have to wait until next year to do so, and that is unacceptable, for that means an entire year during which the enemy may improve the defenses, costing us even more men," he added just as calmly. "As such, we are to proceed with the siege. Mr. Allen,"

A young artillery officer saluted. "Sir!"

"I want you to deploy every last cannon we have along the riverbank, pointed directly at the center of the front walls," ordered Harry, "Additionally, I want the two Leviathan-Class cannons we brought to be deployed behind the riverbank cannons. Have them pointed directly at the towers."

The young officer saluted once more before leaving to make the adequate preparations. Harry then turned to one of the infantry commanders.

"Mr. Sharpe, I want you to take the 96th Rifles and position them at the right flank. They will be attacking the right wall once Artillery has finished persuading its defenders to leave their post. Ladders will be needed."

"Sir!" and again, the officer was off.

"Mr. Wolfe, I want the 78th to be placed half on the left flank and half in the center. Take your best men and put them on the left flank. Like the 96th, they are to scale the walls and take that section. Additionally, however, they are to secure the main gate and open it, allowing the other half of the 78th to enter. The 96th will assist."

"Once the rest of your regiment has entered the fortress, I want you to have the Shielders assigned to you to combine their spellwork as a battering ram against the internal gate, all the while providing covering fire for them. Once the inner gate is smashed, lead the army into the inner fortress."

"Yes, sir!"

"And Mr. Wolfe?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Remember. No prisoners."

The next day (Day 5)

It was truly magnificent, in a way, to watch an artillery bombardment, mused Harry as he watched his cannons blast away chunks of the defensive outer wall. Shell after shell tore at the stone wall, which the defenders were frantically trying to repair with magic, only to have them torn apart when an artillery squad noticed them and fired directly at them.

He watched as the Leviathan-Class cannons, products of his sister Alexandra's genius, shot massive shells at the defensive outer towers, blasting them apart with two shots each. With each shot, the cannon's barrel was launched backwards, held together only by the enormous springs that made it return to its initial position. It was a magnificent piece of engineering, a fact that made his sister blush every time someone complimented her on it.

Behind the line of cannons, he watched as the men from the 78th and 96th Rifles cheered whenever a shot blasted away Death Eaters, or whenever the Leviathans blasted away a tower. Most of the time, he felt like cheering with them, but remembered to keep his composure.

Eventually, the Leviathans blasted away the last outer defensive towers, which signaled that the assault would occur the next day, since he wanted a steady bombardment to occur all throughout the night to keep the enemy off-balance.

As he turned to move back to his tent, he watched as the cheers slowly died out as the men came to realize that with the towers gone, it was their turn. He sighed as he entered his tent and sat on the field chair, uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass as he did so, and then promptly downed it in one go.

"Through smoke and fire and shot and shell," he sang in a whispered voice, "Unto the very walls of hell. We shall stand and we shall stay; Over the hills and far away…"

Little did he know that many others in the camp sang the same song.