AN: And things get complicated...now. ) - Marquis Black

A couple of days later, Harry found himself sitting by Ginny's bed, her right hand tightly clasped in his. After briefly catching up on family news with Sirius, Remus, and Joachim, he'd quickly excused himself and returned to his wife's bedside. The doctor had, by then, cleared the premises, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

The euphoria of having found his family alive had soon faded away after his meeting with the three Potter retainers, replaced by grief and regret as he sat by his unconscious wife.

He felt grief over having just found her, only to have her remain in a state of prolonged unconsciousness, robbing him of the angelic quality of her laughter, and the soothing tones of her voice.

He felt regret for having dishonoured his marriage to her by having his affair with Allison, thus shaming her and everything he'd vowed to her on their wedding day.

Sighing, the off-duty officer brought his wife's limp hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly.

"I wish you'd wake up…" he told her sadly. "Even if only to scream at me, or glare at me, like you used to whenever I did something stupid…"

Harry sighed once more. He didn't even have his work to keep his mind off her unconscious state. Once Elizabeth had heard of Ginny's condition, she'd ordered him to take time off and had, with the Prime Minister's advice, chosen Sulu to temporarily replace him as acting Head of the Armed Forces, while giving some professional armchair general the position of Field Marshall. Unfortunately, the man wasn't good enough to push the Death Eaters back, but he was good enough to keep the line intact while Harry waited for his wife to recuperate.

He'd finally met with his parents the previous day, when Ginny and the rest of the civilian evacuees were transferred to the HMIS Anchorage, one of the Imperial Navy's many Hospital-Evacuation Ships. The reunion had been happy, if tearful, and had temporarily diverted his attention from his wife's predicament. He'd noticed, however, that both of them, like Sirius, Remus, and Blackthorne, were somewhat shifty when talking about what Ginny had been up to during the years they'd spent apart.

Despite the cold fear that crept up in his stomach as he tried to not imagine what she could have been up to during their years of separation, Harry managed to push those thoughts away by remembering the few times they had spent together.

He could still recall those few, peaceful days when he'd lean against the Potter home's backdoor, serenely watching her tending to the flowerbeds along with Lily. She'd sometimes look up at him and give him a radiant smile before getting back to work. Still, even one smile was enough for him, and his father's knowing smile at the time told him that his dad felt the same way when looking at his mother.

With a smile, he recalled some of their evenings, when they'd contentedly sat on the large couch in Potter Manor's smaller library and simply read, Ginny leaning back against him, reading some fascinating novel, while he read some interesting philosophical book that'd just come out. He could still hear the soft, classical music playing in the background as the two spent the entire evening reading, content with simply keeping each other company.

As Harry allowed his fingers to unconsciously rub Ginny's palm, he allowed himself to head deeper down memory lane, thinking of the time they'd spent together before he'd admitted his feelings towards her. He remembered, chuckling a bit, when she'd begun to take violin lessons during the summer after her first year, as he'd recommended venting her nightmares through music. Out of the ten days he'd managed to see her, he'd never once heard her play the blasted instrument right. Still, her dedication to learning how to play the instrument had kept her mind too occupied to dwell on the nightmarish events of her first year.

Then, during her second year, she pressured him into submission to learn an instrument himself, a feat not even his older sister and mother had been able to do. It amazed them even more when they learned that he'd been persuaded via letters. As such, he learned the violin and viola, and during their time together, would accompany her in such music pieces as Mozart's third Violin Concerto, an improvised version of Vivaldi's Mandolin Concerto in C Major, and many other pieces. Sometimes they would play simply out of boredom, while other times, they used it more as a way of playfully challenging the other, with one starting a tune, with the other having to complete it. The rest of the Potter clan would sometimes sit on these sessions and pass a pleasant time seeing the two challenging each other.

He was about to head into third year when a cough broke his reminiscing. Snapping his eyes to the intruder, his wand at the ready, he sighed in relief when he noticed it was only Neville.

"Neville! You almost gave me heart failure!" cried Harry in relief as he sagged back into his seat.

Neville gave a weak grin as he stood at attention, which caught Harry's attention. At a second look, Harry noticed that Neville was in full deployment uniform, with his brass-coloured helmet underneath his left armpit. Harry even saw that he had a full pack on his back, with one of the new magazine bolt-action rifles slung on his shoulder.

"You going somewhere, Nev?" asked Harry, confused. "I don't recall signing any deployment orders for you." This was true. In fact, even if he was temporarily replaced as acting Head, any deployment orders had to pass by his approval first, considering he was the Empire's master strategist.

Neville gave him a rueful smile. "Orders just came in. The Third Legion's being redeployed from Outpost Churchill."

Harry looked shocked at this announcement. "Where to? On whose orders?" he demanded.

"Empire's Helm, a new camp a good fifty miles north of Nova Scotia."

Harry's jaw dropped. Empire's Helm was widely known to be a death trap in the making. It was in a valley, with only two entries, and the strong wind currents above it, coupled with the heavily charged electromagnetic field (a left-over from a failed Muggle attempt to nuke the Death Eaters into annihilation) made it impossible for air deployment. Its only saving grace was that whoever held the Helm had a solid beachhead in Newfoundland.

"On whose orders?" demanded Harry, full of anger and indignity that someone had gone over his head to issue such a suicidal order. The third Legion alone wasn't enough to hold the spacious and indefensible valley.

Neville's look now turned to disgust. "Colonel-Strategist Ronald Weasley, sir."

Harry was fuming now. "Weasley?" he demanded, raising his voice. "How in the seven corners of hell did that traitorous maggot even get a commission?"

Neville shrugged. "Don't know, sir. Anyway, it's out of my hands, and yours, sir," he added, looking at Harry sternly, as he was about to protest. "I didn't come here to get the orders overturned, you know."

Harry looked confused now. "Then why are you here?"

Neville looked at him sadly. "I came to say goodbye."

"What were you thinking!"

Sulu calmly watched as Harry threw a tantrum in his temporary office aboard the Anchorage, magic rolling off him in waves that occasionally caused a crystalline object to shatter.

"…sending crack troops on a suicidal move!"

"Harry…"

"…commissioning a known traitor as strategist!"

"Harry…"

"…granting clemency to those foul, insignificant murderers!"

"HARRY!"

Harry stopped pacing around and glared at Sulu, who now looked somewhat irritated.

"Look, Harry, it's out of my hands," Sulu told him tersely. At Harry's indignant glare, Sulu continued before the youngest Field Marshall in history could continue his rant. "It was part of an agreement between the Crown and the former Order of the Phoenix."

"Oh?" was the terse, yet inquisitive reply.

"In exchange for their lives, the Order disbands and agrees to work with the Imperial military to bring about the Death Eaters' demise," explained Sulu. "Mr. Weasley was shown to have an excellent aptitude in chess and was thus appointed as your replacement as strategist."

Harry's eyes lit up in fury once more. "Aptitude in a game with lifeless figurines does not equate to ability on a battlefield!" he hissed. "YOU, of all people should know!"

Sulu had the decency to blush at this jab, since he'd been considered quite good at strategy thanks to his adequate skills in chess before Harry had come along and torn him apart on a mock-battlefield.

Sulu quickly regained his cool, however, and gazed steely at Harry. "Nonetheless, the assignment stands as long as you need to have your affairs in order. Mr. Weasley seems capable enough, and the appointment has the approval of both the Prime Minister and Her Majesty."

Harry looked at Sulu as if he had a third head. "What's the matter with you?" demanded the younger man. "Weeks ago, you would have been right up here with me, demanding the Order be hung form the nearest tree! Now you're actively supporting them!"

Sulu coloured up, making his dark skin darken further. "I am not taking their side, Harry!" snapped Sulu. "However, I am in the unfortunate position of needing a new strategist, as our current one seems to be going through a heavily emotional and trying time!" he said, gazing pointedly at Harry.

Harry glared back at his long-time friend. "And meanwhile, who's going to tell Susan and the rest of the lads that Neville and the Third are off to get killed?" he hissed, slamming down his hands onto Sulu's desk. "Empire's Helm is a death trap, Sulu! You know it, I know it, and any competent strategist would know it!"

"It's a risky move, I'll grant you that," conceded Sulu. "But perhaps the time has come for a more aggressive stance. Lord knows we haven't made much headway since Utah."

Harry's glare intensified. "That's hardly my fault and you know it!" riposted Harry. "The Death Eaters have managed to get the Americans to give them the factories they need to create the Airships. How was I supposed to stop that?"

"No one's saying it's your fault…" began Sulu, but was quickly cut off by Harry.

"But they're all thinking it, aren't they?" he hissed. "That's why I'm being replaced, isn't it? Because the Death Eaters now have the Archangel technology?"

Sulu hesitated for a moment before he reluctantly agreed. "That was one of the many reasons…"

"What else?" demanded Harry, eyes flashing. "What else have they said about me?"

Sulu seemed unwilling to elaborate, but eventually gave in to his loyalty to his friend. "Harry…you need to understand…the image you give off to the public…it's not right…" started Sulu, carefully choosing his words. "The masses themselves don't rightly care, of course…I mean, you bring results, after all…but the rest of the brass…"

"Yes?" prompted Harry dangerously. His fists were quickly tightening into whitened flesh.

"The newly appointed ones, that is…" amended Sulu. "Mostly coming from the pre-coup ranks or the refugees from Panama City…they hold to the old conventions, you see. They don't believe an officer's place is at the front…" Instead of continuing, Sulu merely slid forward an official looking document towards Harry wordlessly.

Picking it up and glancing at Sulu with an irritated look, Harry turned his attention towards the paper and soon blanched.

Imperial Armed Forces Act

Be it enacted by the Queen's most Excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, as follows:

Name and Terminology of the Armed Forces

Henceforth, the Royal Army is to be reorganized into the Imperial

Armed Forces, and

All manuals, guidelines, and official documents are to be re-filed under the new heading, with the previous copies held in storage for official record keeping and,

In keeping with the aforementioned change, the appropriate title of a member of the IAM Officer Corps is Imperial Officer, and the appropriate adjective for all matters regarding the Armed Forces is Imperial.

Revisions to the Imperial Officer Code of Conduct

Acknowledging the fact that traditional regulations for Imperial Officers have regularly allowed for many loopholes to exist, the new Code of Conduct is to be reformed in such a way as to dispel these loopholes and enforce the following,—

The officer, as a symbol of order, morale, and discipline, is to remain in a position of relative safety at all times and distance him or herself from any actual combat, unless under direct personal attack, and

The violation of the aforementioned directive will result in the punitive action of suspension without pay for no less than one month and no more than five weeks, and

Continuous violations of the aforementioned directive will result in permanent discharge of the dishonourable category.

Reorganization of the Royal Military Police

In accordance with the widespread changes in the Armed Forces, the Royal Military Police will also be reorganized into the Office of the Imperial Provost Marshall, and

The Office of the Imperial Provost Marshall shall be headed by the Imperial Provost Marshall, and

The powers and directives of the IPM are to remain the same as its previous incarnation.

Reorganization of the Imperial Armed Forces

The different units of the now-incorporated Imperial factions (these being, the Northern Britannic Loyalist Forces, the Asian Loyalist League, and the African Imperial League) are to be reorganized into the following,—

…

Harry read on the document in growing consternation as the document outlined changes in the Armed Forces he'd never dreamed of seeing in his lifetime. Sulu watched him impassively, his hands entwined on his desk in front of him.

Once Harry raised his head, Sulu nudged his head towards the pile of papers on his right.

"There's more of those," he told Harry. "Seems like the Restoration has injected a rejuvenated surge of Imperialist sentiment. The Act two days previous to that one you're holding renamed the United Kingdom officially into the British Empire."

Harry looked at the considerable pile with an unreadable expression. "Every branch has been affected?" he asked. Sulu nodded. "Even the Airfleet Corps?"

"Especially the Airfleet Corps" answered Sulu as he searched the pile for the document pertaining to that topic. Skimming over it, he grimaced. "Parliament has transferred a good deal of your men into the other branches, including the totality of the ground-based artillery."

"So no ground-based operations for the Airfleet Corps, then," summed up Harry. "Who were the advocates for this?"

Sulu brought forth another piece of paper and read it briefly. "In general? The Opposition. Though, if you ask me, the ex-Order certainly had a hand in manipulating the events into taking such form."

"How so?" asked Harry.

"Dumbledore's been getting chummy with the MP's," explained Sulu. He then motioned to the room around him. "He got you kicked out of your post as Head of the Armed Forces, and—" what else Dumbledore had done was lost to speculation as Harry exploded once more.

"WHAT?" screamed Harry.

Sulu blanched. "Oh, right. You hadn't heard," he groaned to himself. Looking back up at Harry, Sulu looked apologetic. "Dumbledore managed to convince enough MP's on both sides that having the same man run both the Armed Forces and a full Corps directly was essentially handing over the Empire to your ambitions."

Harry remained silent for a moment. "I…can't say I fault that logic," he admitted at length. "So you're the new Head of the Armed Forces?" he asked.

Sulu nodded. "It was made permanent today," he told his colleague. "Don't worry, though. If you ever need anything, just ask me, and I'll do what I can."

Harry nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

Sulu shrugged off the thanks. "We've been friends since the Academy, Harry. I don't want this one event to destroy that."

Harry nodded. "I understand," he admitted. He then sighed. "It was just so…natural, you know? Controlling every aspect of the Armed Forces; getting them to do what I had determined was the best course of action. Now, I'm forced to answer to another man. Again."

Sulu nodded in understanding. "Don't worry. Like I said, I won't hinder you."

Harry smiled in thanks. It quickly faded, however, as he returned to the matter at hand. "What about Neville?" he asked.

Sulu sighed as he spread his arms in helplessness. "Until your affairs are in order—that is to say, the Duchess wakes up—I can't reverse the current course of action, as it was suggested and thought out by a legitimate strategist of the Armed Forces."

Harry nodded reluctantly. "Could I, at the very least, see this much spoken-of plan?"

Sulu nodded absently as he scratched away at a piece of paper with his quill. "I'll have it sent to you later," he assured his friend. He briefly lifted his eyes to meet Harry's. "Try to look at it without bias, will you? It's actually really not that bad."

Harry gave him a reluctant, yet stiff nod, and stood up. Out of respect, the two men saluted each other before Harry turned on his heel and left the room.

Hours later, sitting by his bedridden wife, Harry couldn't help but agree with Sulu. Weasley's plan really wasn't that bad. Harry had dissected it left and right, sketched it out, and found it to be actually quite promising, if a few things hadn't been overlooked. But then, everyone made mistakes, right?

Absently rubbing the back of Ginny's left hand, Harry realized that didn't make him feel any better.