Warning: This follow Chapter features plenty of gore. You have been warned.
The five British and one Canadian teen watched in the living room as an entire wall displayed the memories of Darvill's grandfather. They found themselves looking inside what appeared to be a fortified trench, protected by sandbags and machine gun emplacements firing into the distance. They heard the pounding of cannons firing behind the trench as shells roared over the Canadian frontlines towards the French forces. The ground shook as the artillery impacted the French lines. The smell of sulfur and cordite filled their noses, the distant screams of falling French Aurors faintly heard.
At the center of the memory playback was a tall man, donned in khaki service dress, alongside a number of similarly attired men. The three-chevron rank insignias on the figure's upper arms indicated that it was indeed Sergeant Nicholas McDonald. They could see the man's short light brown hair partially covered his khaki wedge cap. The men were carrying Lee-Enfield rifles similar to the one that Mrs. Peters displayed. A few of the men, including Sergeant McDonald, fired the rifles with their right hands, using the bags to support the front of their rifles. Harry could see that all of these men held out wands with their other hand, firing curses to the front while simultaneously shooting their guns.
The rifles launched magically charged bullets from their barrels, lit up like tracer rounds as they lanced into no-man's land. The British teens also noticed that the bolt-action rifles were charmed to automatically move the bolt back and forth quickly in between shots. Not needing to use their hands to handle the reloading, the Brits were firing rapidly, almost a round every second. They only stopped to reload the guns, and soon resumed shooting.
After a few minutes elapsed, everyone heard the sound of a whistle, followed by a collective roar as the Canadian troops went over the top. They saw beams of light pass over the soldiers' heads, coming from the French lines. The troops slowly marched forward, some diving into craters to resume shooting. One soldier a few yards away was hit by a reducto curse, and fell to the ground in agony, but the others continued to advance. A few Canadian troops began to cast long bursts of incendio fire, creating walls of flames over the desolate fields.
On the battlefield, the bodies of what had to be French Aurors were strewn about. Detached limbs, feet, and blood were everywhere. Some of the enemy had holes torn out of the bodies by the rounds. Some of their faces still held a look of surprise from being hit by magically-enhanced "muggle" weapons. A few didn't have faces, being hit in the head by .303 rounds, causing some of the British teens to throw up, though the Professors quickly vanished the vomit away. The men continued to fire round after round to the enemy lines, who had apparently failed to create effective fortifications against the Canadian firepower. A group of French Aurors were inside an abandoned Spanish village, hiding among the ruined buildings, firing wildly towards the incoming troops.
Harry and Daphne saw a dark cloaked figure, described by Mr. Darvill as one of Lord Henri's outer circle, apparate by the village and began to rapid fire unforgivables towards the Canadians, who dropped down for cover. One unlucky soldier was hit by the Killing Curse, and stayed down. Sergeant McDonald, hiding in a crater, tapped what appeared to be an early-style telephone handset then yelled out a request for artillery support, pointing his wand at the dark wizard as he placed a special tracking charm. Several booms were heard before a dozen shells impacted around the dark wizard, who apparently did not hear the shells targeted on him. A massive crater was left where the wizard had stood, along with bits of cloth and blood. The Sergeant called out to the men and they left their hiding spots before continuing to advance ahead. Soon, they found dozens of wounded Aurors lying on the ground, many with missing limbs or massive gouges from the bullets. A few left standing raised a white flag or held up their hands in surrender, pleading in both English and French for mercy. The memory began to fade out.
The room fell silent as everyone contemplated what they just saw. After a few minutes, Mr. Darvill broke the silence.
"The Battle of Belchite was a defining point for the Canadian Magical Army, our version of Non-Magical Canada's Vimy Ridge. In seven days, over 3,200 French Aurors, dark wizards and witches, as well as their Spanish supporters were killed, out of an initial 5000 people. Canada's Spanish ally lost 1,934 Aurors out of 3,000 and we lost 127 soldiers out of 2000 in the Regiment. To brutally honest, the Canadians utterly massacred the enemy." Mrs. Peters passed the rifle to him, and he held it with nostalgia.
"Part of today's lesson is the reality that when it comes down to wands versus guns, guns usually win. It takes years of training for someone to accurately fire spells from a wand. You can train marksmen in months, and even without magic, most rounds can pierce shield charms. The Killing Curse is only effective at around 50 yards. This rifle here, in trained hands, could pick off someone at 550 years. A sniper can take out someone at a thousand yards."
The Brits, especially the Purebloods, looked slackjawed.
"This also leads to another point, and somewhat I need to make clear. The non-Magical World has over 5 and a half billion people around the world. There are less than 50 million magically gifted people in the world. If we entered a war with the Non-Magicals, we would be annihilated. If Voldemort did manage to take over Magical Britain, every wizard and witch there would be marked for possible death.
The Magical Governments of Canada and the United States were fully aware of Magical Britain's first war with the Death Eaters, along with senior members of all three nations' Non-Magical governments. A few families that were reported killed by Riddle's men had in fact escaped to Australia and North America, and we had a good feel for what was going on in Britain.
We asked if your Ministry of Magic would let our Aurors come and help against Mr. Tom Riddle and they rejected our offer repeatedly. They insisted that they had control over the situation; they said that they would deal with Riddle. The reality, well, it was a disaster. Families fled or were killed by Riddle's organization. "Muggleborns" were killed on a daily basis. They were simply too stubborn and too backwards to understand that they were on a collision course with destruction. They soon began to ignore our promises to help. In fact, they attacked those who disagreed with the Ministry's word that their little world was under control. Albus Dumbledore was temporarily suspended from being head of the British Wizengamot by the Ministry for being a "subversive element" and "a potential traitor of Magical Britain." The Ministry rejected an ICW Resolution condemning their inaction against the terrorists, and eventually walked out on us.
By the late 70s, it was almost the breaking point for the Magical World. While the Death Eaters were a small group, they had begun to expand. Magical France and Spain were actively fighting DE cells that popped up in their lands. Riddle had already gathered quite a few supporters in Eastern Europe. We finally had enough when Riddle tried to start up cells in North America and tried to restart a war between Vampires and other beings in both America and Mexico. One sleeper cell finally tried to attack us, striking at CFB James Bay in '79. We lost ten soldiers and six civilians. After that, we went all out. Every single DE support or agent were either captured or killed, and assisted the Americans in neutralizing the vampires and werewolves forces in their nation and in Mexico.
At that point, the ICW, with Britain temporarily suspended, was about to vote on sending Canadian and American troops into Britain for a military intervention. We would have sent troops to Diagon Alley and Hogwarts, as well as the Ministry. Martial law would have been imposed. If that hadn't worked, we were prepared to allow Non-Magical Britain to declare war on the Ministry of Magic and the Death eaters.
Albus Dumbledore had pleaded with us not to send soldiers in. He didn't want the blood of his fellow countrymen on his hands. Every wizard and witch in Britain would have been considered a potential threat by our troops. Anyone who held a wand against our troops would have been shot. Even so, he was about to give in, two years after James Bay, to call for the vote when Riddle suddenly disappeared."
Neville had to ask, "Mr. Darvill, would you have gone on that mission?"
Mr. Darvill signed, and took out a brass cap badge, "At that time, I was a Sergeant in the Magical Regiment, and yes, I would have been deployed to Britain to carry out Martial Law. Would we have won against Riddle in the end? Yes. While he has those godforsaken Horcruxes, we had made a batch of special bullets, infused with a curse to destroy him and every horcrux he was connected with. However, it would have taken time to locate the bastard and give him the special delivery. We estimated that by time we did find Riddle, over a tenth of Magical Britain might have been wiped out. Every Auror, everyone loyal to the Ministry might have been marked for death. We might have killed people for holding their wands against us. All it takes for an idiot to cast a curse and many civilians might have been caught in the crossfire. We all hated that thought, but that was the reality. We would not have been in jolly ol' England to sing kumbaya or make peace with the civilians; our job would have been to take out any threats to the safety of the rest of the world, and damn the consequences and destruction."
Silence once again fell in the room as the Brits realized the implication of what could have happened if the ICW decided to act. Many innocent lives would have been lost, and the Ministry, in its complete stupidity and arrogance, might have pronounced a death sentence for all of Magical Britain.
Daphne's eyes were tearing up as she understood that her entire family could have been killed. Harry had to hold her and give Daphne comfort as the words of their prospective Defense instructor took hold.
Tracy was also tearing up, as a shell-shocked Neville could only hold her hand as the reality set in. His parents, being Aurors would have been considered a potential threat, Order of the Phoenix or not, and his Grandmother might have been also killed.
Hermione sat stiffly, her mind processing everything that had been said in the hour. Magical Britain had just dodged being hit with a metaphorical bullet, and it was dancing with fire once again. Riddle was back, and this time, there might not be a second chance or a reprieve.