The alarm first resonated throughout the Imperial Palace, and from there spread throughout the capital of the British Empire. At first, the citizens were shocked as the unfamiliar sirens resonated throughout the streets in thus-unknown bullhorns. At first, everyone thought the sirens were merely a drill.

At first, everyone denied what they knew, deep in their hearts, to be true.

They were under attack.

In a matter of seconds, panic overcame shock. Where men, women, and children stood rooted to the ground a moment ago, they now ran for their homes, shouting in panic. Soon, the bells of the Cathedral began resonating as well, adding to the cacophony of the chaos. All throughout the streets, men dragged their families to safehouses and anti-bombardment bunkers which had been built at the founding of the city. Unfortunately, as time had passed without attack, many of these had fallen into disuse, and their building had ceased after the creation of the fifth isle. Therefore, three isles were completely without shelters, leaving well over 200,000 men, women, and children without a place to seek refuge in.

Fear soon overtook these regions, and mass rioting began to break out as the five other islands began to refuse access to these three remaining isles, due to capacity excess. Troops were deployed from every garrison to contain the situation, but as desperation began to set in, the infighting became more punctuated. Even soldiers were dragged into the rioting as they tried to break the desperate inhabitants of Isles 6-8 from storming the bridges, which the neighbouring isles had threatened to destroy if they didn't stop the violence.

Violence inevitably led to fires as the desperate mobs began to throw molotovs at both troops and buildings. Unwilling to fire upon the crowds, however, the troops did not retaliate with their weapons, but rather attempted to capture as many as possible. Fanned by the winds, however, the fires began to spread, and soon the fire departments of all three isles were hard at work to put out the raging infernos.

Watching from her room was a disappointed queen, who watched silently as her own people fought each other due to a lack of foresight and overconfidence. The same overconfidence that had, in the end, killed her adoptive parents.

Elizabeth sighed as she watched the towering plumes of black smoke rise above the raging infernos. She could do nothing, and she hated that. The best she could do is attempt to assuage the fears of the populace, but how could she, considering she too was scared witless? The news of the impending invasion had taken them all by surprise, and without Harry or his fleets to protect them, all that the New Britannia Defence Forces had to defend them were the MAG cannons.

And even they had failed them.

The news had struck her and her court into total shock. The messenger had arrived, panicked and worn out, claiming that the MAG cannons had been sabotaged. The central operating system had been tampered with, and every cannon had immediately shut down rather than activate with the breaching of the shields. It had, and still baffled their technicians, who were flabbergasted at how such an event could occur. The best theory any of them had in respect to what had happened had been given by James Potter, Harry's father—yet another backhanded blow to her as the Potter family came through once more.

Elizabeth sighed as she remembered that particular court session. It had started with the sudden arrival of a harried messenger from the Defence Headquarters…

"The MAG Cannons are down!"

The entire court had stilled at these words. Elizabeth herself had risen from the throne in shock as the civilian-dressed messenger ran down the middle of her courtroom and hurriedly fell to his knees before her.

"What?" she'd asked dumbly.

"The MAG Cannons, Your Majesty!" reiterated the messenger. "The entire Defence Mainframe has been shut down!"

"Who is responsible for this?" asked one of her courtiers, a newly created Earl.

"We have not yet ascertained this," replied the messenger immediately. "Our entire efforts are being coordinated towards repairing the mainframe before the Death Eaters arrive."

"Is there no theory as to whom or what may be responsible for this failure?" asked Elizabeth, trying to figure out how such a catastrophic event could have happened now, at the worst of times. "Any theories at all?"

As the messenger shook his head, the court's attention was drawn towards the front doors, which had been violently thrown open. Into the court walked James Potter, followed by two armed Royal Guards, who seemed to be carrying an unconscious man. When James was within jumping distance to the throne, he elegantly got on one knee and lowered his head in submission.

"Rise, Lord Potter," Elizabeth said distractedly, her eyes on the man the two guards were carrying. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The saboteur, Your Majesty," explained James as he stood, eliciting horrified gasps from the crowd. "After going through the security feeds and launching a full-scale manhunt, we discovered his treachery and captured him but a few minutes ago."

"Where was he?" asked Dumbledore, who was standing by the throne, eyeing the man just as curiously.

"We found him in an abandoned warehouse at the docks. Our scans indicate that he is one of the Death Eaters' soldier constructs," replied James evenly. Unlike his son, James was less hostile towards the former Headmaster, and managed to keep his temper more in check.

"A terracotta soldier?" asked Elizabeth in wonder as her court erupted into amazed whispering. "Of the Chinese tombs?"

James nodded. "The very same. He tried to commit suicide when we found him—in order to safeguard his secret, no doubt—but my men were quicker."

Elizabeth couldn't help but feel both pride and a pang of guilt at James' words. On one hand, she knew that the Potters were still steadfastly loyal to the Throne, but on the other, she couldn't help but notice his choice in words—"my men," he had said, not "our men," or "your men." It was a testament to their loyalty, and disappointment as well, no doubt, to the Throne that James had mobilized his private resources to capture the traitor. Still, she couldn't help but notice that every time the Potters came through, she felt a little worse at her past choices.

She knew that she had already alienated them by consenting to remove Harry from overall command of the military, as well as granting clemency to the Order, but what had probably driven them the furthest away was her appointment of Dumbledore as one of her inner council, as opposed to Matthew Potter, whom the Potters had favoured, since Harry couldn't be around all the time. Unfortunately, she had decided that Dumbledore, despite their misgivings about the man, had seen and gone through the most experiences, and could therefore provide a wealth of knowledge that Matthew couldn't. The oldest of the Potter children had taken the choice graciously—a true testament to his clan, but the Potters' disapproval of the choice had been palpable at the next court session.

Still, as James stood there, he seemed neither disapproving, nor angry—rather, he looked like the perfect image of serenity, despite the impending invasion. He was truly a contrasting image against her court, who seemed in total uproar. Only Dumbledore seemed similarly calm.

Looking towards Dumbledore, Elizabeth gave him a pleading look, and the older wizard obliged by casting a blanket silencing spell on the uproarious court, sparing only himself, Elizabeth, and James.

"Lord Potter, what do you think is to be done?" asked Dumbledore in the silence. Of course, most of the silenced court was glaring at him.

"I've already ordered Defence Headquarters to start finding a solution to the problem," reported James. "At best, we'll have this problem figured out and the cannons will be back online."

"And at worst?" asked Elizabeth, dreading the answer.

James took a deep breath before answering her. "At worst, we're left defenceless."

"What about ships? How many do we have left?" asked Dumbledore as he took off the silencing spell from Sulu, who'd been waiting patiently..

"We have only Navy vessels, Your Majesty, and of those, only twenty," reported the dark-skinned commander. "There are exactly four prototype Assault Ships as well, but these are so far from active duty that they're only ever crewed by a skeleton crew."

"Twenty and four…" repeated Elizabeth, shocked numb. "Twenty four vessels stand between the greatest Death Eater armada ever seen and Harrisburg…"

Just then, James took a knee, surprising the young queen. "Please, Your Majesty, have faith," he told her, hands tightened into a combined fist in front of him. "My son will come back. He will beat back our foes."

"L-Lord Potter, I wasn—why would you think I would think that?" asked Elizabeth, somewhat stunned that the Potter patriarch had read her so well. In truth, she had felt some uncertainty.

"I've had to deflect criticism towards my son for over ten years, Your Majesty," James explained softly. "From the day he became the Institute's greatest prodigy till this very day, not a day has gone past where I have not had to appease someone's fears regarding Harry. For all his faults, Your Majesty, Harry is loyal, and he is brilliant. He'll return in time to save us."

Surprisingly, even Dumbledore seemed to agree with this statement, which stunned James as he saw the older wizard nod sagely. "I agree with Lord Potter, Your Majesty," he told the queen. "His Grace is an amazingly talented commander, and nobody's fool. If anyone can save us in time, it will be him."

Hiding his smirk underneath his long, flowing white beard, Dumbledore turned to James, who remained stunned at this unexpected show of support from the older wizard.

"The question remains, of course, how we manage to buy the young Duke the time he needs to come back," he summed up. Unsurprisingly, Elizabeth, Sulu, and James nodded, as did the court, albeit more due to the fact that they had no voice in this matter, regardless, due to the blanket silencing spell.

The court had been dismissed, then. Other than James, Sulu, a number of the Imperial brass, Dumbledore, and Elizabeth, no one else remained in the room. Elizabeth herself had risen from her throne and paced atop the painted image of the world on the floor. The group had then discussed the plan for defending New Britannia until the relief forces could arrive. It seemed that it was a general consensus that Harry would realize the Death Eaters' ploy and return immediately, but they all knew that the journey back would take time, considering that Harry would have to organize his fleet back into an appropriate combat-ready formation, and then establish a battle plan.

And so, standing in the audience hall of the palace, the group vowed to buy the Duke the time he needed to return.

Thinking back on the meeting, Elizabeth felt that perhaps little had been achieved in way of preparation for the invasion. Certainly, they had assigned patrol routes and contingency plans for when the Death Eaters made landing on Harrisburg, but nothing so concrete as to guarantee that Harry would return in time to save the capital. Or, if not Harry, then any of the remaining Imperial brass.

Of course, to think that Harry wouldn't come was something Elizabeth wasn't even willing to contemplate. If Harry didn't manage to see through the enemy plan, there was little hope for the rest, regardless of how brilliant as Sulu and his colleagues were.

Already, from the safety of her room, she could see the approaching dark mass in the sky. It was still quite small, indicating that it was far away, but it covered enough horizontal length as to make her realize that the Death Eaters were really throwing everything they had at Harrisburg. This was going to be it—the final battle, one way or another.

Praying silently, Elizabeth hoped dearly that it was to end in the Empire's favour.

At the Potter home, meanwhile, a similar, yet different meeting was taking place amongst the family members and their supporters. All seated along the long, wooden table in the dining hall, the Potters and their allies had their attention solely on James Potter, who sat at the head and was currently informing the clan of the situation.

"As expected, the Death Eaters have finally found Harrisburg," informed James. "They have seemingly decided to throw everything they have at the capital, which is also in line with Harry's prediction."

Sirius leaned back in his chair lazily. "What's to be done, then?" he asked, though he didn't seem at all worried. "I imagine Harry left us a plan?"

Matthew leaned his head onto his fist. "Of course he did. He wouldn't be Harry if he hadn't seen right through the enemy's plan," he reassured Sirius.

Alexandra yawned. "More like he used their plan for his own needs," she corrected. "He knew damn well what would happen if the Death Eaters ever managed to find Harrisburg."

"Language, Alex," chided Lily, though she was also seemingly calm about the whole situation.

Maximilian chortled beside his wife. "Chiding her for foul language on the cusp of a major invasion?" he chuckled. "Only you, Lily…"

"May we know the details of the illustrious plan?" asked Remus, trying to steer the conversation back on track. Still, while he seemed the most preoccupied of the group, it seemed more out of performance anxiety than actual worry about the results.

James looked over to his daughter-in-law. "Do you want to tell them, Ginny?" he asked. "You know it better than I do."

Ginny shook her head politely. "No, thank you James. Please, go ahead," she assured the man with a smile before taking a dainty sip from her glass of wine.

Bill seemed bored throughout the chatter, for his part. "Will we be needing anything from the warehouse?" he asked, referring to the stockpile of weapons and ammunition that the Potters kept for just such occasions. "I've had several dozen anti-personnel Reductor mines be transferred there, by the way."

"What about the MAG Cannons?" asked George.

"Are they operational?" asked Fred.

"'cause if they aren't,"

"This could be more difficult than it should be," finished Fred. Both twins were currently playing what seemed to be an odd game of who could turn the other's hair a different colour, paying only minute attention to the meeting.

Clearly, no one in the room felt much anxiety about the invasion.

"The program we need to reverse the damage has been completed for some time now," replied Bill, who was staring at his fingernails. "We'd long theorized that the Harrisburg Imperial Defence Grid might someday be infiltrated, so it's been ready for quite some time now."

"Will it work?"

"With this particular coding, we mean," added George.

"It's adaptive, so it shouldn't be a problem." Inserted Alexandra.

"What about the enemy troops?" asked Bill, who was relaying for Blackthorne.

"Just follow the plan and nothing bad should happen," answered James.

"What about releases?"

"They're just Terracotta soldiers, Remus; you shouldn't ever need to perform one," dismissed Sirius.

"Do you think anyone realizes just how much of this is going according to plan?" asked Maximilian with a smirk as he blew out some smoke from his cigar.

"Of course not," replied Remus casually. "Everything has been so carefully planned that it looks like natural progressions of events," he noted. "Still, finding the Queen was surprising."

"Hmm," agreed Bill. "It certainly threw Harry for a loop," he remarked before taking a drink from his cup of wine. "Had to reassess the plan to include his duty to Empire."

Ginny smiled. "Ambitious as he is, my Harry is a man of duty nonetheless," she agreed. "That's one of the things I love about him."

"Yes, and we can probably guess—"

"—what at least one other thing he has you love," teased Fred and George lewdly. The twins quickly shut up, however, once their hair colour turned multicoloured—Ginny had wandlessly and silently cast multiple colour changing charms without them noticing.

"What about the other project we've got going?" asked Lily, holding up her cup of tea daintily. "Valkyrie, was it?"

"It's going as well as can be expected," replied Bill noncommittally. "It's a very tricky thing, we're trying to do. Gene therapy, even with the current non-magical advances, is still a nascent science. We've got to be exceedingly careful."

"Especially considering who our current subjects are," added Alexandra. "We all have a vested interest in seeing to it that they come to no harm, after all."

Ginny nodded firmly. "Absolutely. Take as much time to develop the project as you need to keep it safe."

"We've deviated from the topic, however," intervened James. "Right now, the pressing issue is the Death Eater's rather imbecilic invasion of our great Empire's capital."

"I thought we'd finished discussing it?" asked George.

"Aye, after all, we've gone over releases, weapons, and so forth," added Fred.

James shook his head. "No, no. Now we need to discuss placements. After all, we can't expect the paltry garrison left here to do all the work, and Harry has left us several suggestions for maximizing the defensive capabilities of whatever's left here."

Bill sighed. "That boy's foresight never ceases to amaze me," he mumbled.

James grinned at the praise for his son, and continued to do so as he broached the topic at hand. "Very well, listen up. This is what we're supposed to do…"