From "A Complete Guide to the Imperial Armed Forces," by J.J. Silverson.

Chapter IV, "History of the Imperial Legions."

"Of the entire Imperial Armed Forces, no body of armed soldiers garner as much respect and deference as the First Six Legions. Despite the uncreative epithet, the First Six have long since been accepted as the founding body of the modern Imperial Army. Unlike the members of the Seventh Legion and onwards—with the exception of the 51st Legion, of course—the First Six Legions were, at the time of the end of the Dark Wars, entirely comprised of veterans which had fought in the war for at least over a year. At the time of the end of the Dark Wars, a single company of these mighty Legions was a prized gain for any army, and generals veritably fought over their assignments...

...Today, the Founding Legions have still retained their specialized roles from the Dark Wars, and have still kept their entry requirements high. No man without at least a term of five years in service, and participation in at least six different battles during that time, can enter these legendary Legions."

Unknown Location...

One figure chuckled as it sat on one side of the chessboard, the faint sound of chains rattling emerging as he did so. "I'm surprised at you," he admitted.

His rival raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

"You're not interfering? You're letting them plan on their own?"

A sly grin made its way onto the man's face. "I don't hire incompetent imbeciles to work as my underlings, you know. They're perfectly capable of carrying out their missions."

"Underlings..." mused the figure amusedly. "Like that Sulu fellow? Isn't he your boss?"

The man kept his sly smile. "For now. Sulu has never truly cherished being in command, and this battle will be the last straw before he decides to step aside."

An approving, hissing laugh emerged from the figure. "Such devious cunning. You would have fit well in the noble House of Slytherin."

The man chuckled. Again, the noise of chains rattling. "Yes, so I've heard."

The two then returned to their game.

HMAS Invincible

Bill stared at Harry's inert body with curiosity for about five minutes before turning to Admiral Wolf. "How long has he been this way?" he asked curiously.

Wolf shrugged. "A day? Maybe? He's been this way since a few minutes after he gave the order to launch the offensive."

Bill nodded as he returned his gaze onto Harry, who had a seemingly peaceful look on his face. A cursory spell had told everyone that Harry was very much alive, and that his brain activity was normal—it thus made no sense that he was absolutely unresponsive.

"Did he leave any orders before he suddenly dozed off?" asked Bill then, lowering his head so he was eye level with Harry's body. Even the fluctuations in chest height told the redheaded scientist that his leader was very much alive.

"None," came Wolf's immediate answer. "It's like he wants us to figure this battle out by ourselves."

Bill smiled. "It would certainly be like him to do something like that," he agreed. Apparently, this was not what Wolf had expected to hear.

"Really?" asked Wolf, surprised. "No offense meant, but His Grace has always struck me as something of an obsessive compulsive..."

Bill chuckled, even as he straightened up. "Nah. Harry's actually very laid back. He just goes like that whenever he's 'in the zone,' so to speak. Sometimes for months on end," he informed Wolf, who looked shocked at the revelation. "Honestly, if his vitals haven't decreased, and seeing how you've been feeding him intravenously, I think it's best if we just leave him be and proceed with the battle according to our own discretion."

"B-But our orders..." protested Wolf.

Bill waved the concerns aside. "Technically, we've got Harry's superior on site, no? General Sulu should be able to take up the mantle."

Wolf seemed unsure what to make of that. Sure, Sulu was the Duke's technical superior...but realistically? Well, it was a dead certain fact that the First Legion would be unwilling to go through with that reasoning.

Wolf voiced these concerns to Bill. "The First won't like taking orders from anyone other than His Grace..." he reminded the redhead, who promptly chuckled.

"If Harry's doing what I think he's doing, they won't have to. He'll be back just in time to take command once more," assured Bill.

Wolf was intrigued by Bill's response. "What do you think he's doing?"

Bill grinned, glancing at Harry knowingly. "If I had to venture a guess?" he mused. "Playing chess."

Wolf looked flabbergasted. "Chess?" he asked. "How? With whom?"

Bill shrugged. "That, I don't know. I do know, however, that Harry plays chess in his mind whenever he feels the need to think things through; he visualizes the battle as a chess game, you see. Though I'm surprised. He's absolutely rubbish at the game," he observed. "I could beat him, for goodness' sake. Nevermind my youngest brother."

Even Wolf had to chuckle at the hilariously true observation. After all, just as the Duke's reputation on the battlefield was legendary, so too was his utter lack of skill in chess. General Sulu had beaten him, as had most of his subordinates. In fact, most of the military could beat the Duke in chess, nevermind the civilians!

Of course, when it came to battlefield simulations...

"So we just leave him here?" asked Wolf, returning to the pressing issue.

Bill nodded. "Harry's put too much at stake in this siege to just leave it in the hands of his subordinates, even if he does trust them to go it alone for a while," he stated calmly. "He'll be back when it's time."

"Time for what?" asked Wolf.

Bill shrugged. "No idea, but Harry once told me that luck in war was merely identifying the right time to perform a certain action and then acting on it," he told Wolf. "So if I had to venture another guess, I'd say he'll be back whenever we'll feel like we're in need of some heavy dosage of luck."

Siege of Hogwarts, Day 2, Evening – Front Gates Offensive...

Sulu could only watch with a sense of accomplishment as the wagons full of cases wheeled into his camp. They were positively stacked with the large, rectangular crates!

"How many did we get?" asked Sulu to his aide, absently noting that the Shielders were starting to turn on the magical torches that lit up the camp.

The Captain in question drew up the communiqué on his notepad and consulted it before giving Sulu his answer. "About 400 crates, each containing ten shotguns, sir. The Auburn Fire found a cache of them in Ireland, and the Irish government was only too happy to hand them over in thanks for the help in ridding them of the Death Eaters."

Sulu grunted. He had no doubt that the Irish felt grateful, but he also knew them to be very crafty. More likely, the Irish had seen an opportunity to get some leverage in their negotiations for entry into the Empire as an equal partner and aid for their reconstruction efforts.

"Why'd it take so long, then?" asked Sulu.

The Captain shrugged. "The problem wasn't getting them from Ireland, sir. That was easy enough. No, the problem was getting them here. As you know, the anti-technological wards have been expanded exponentially since the times McDonald laid siege on Hogwarts. The Auburn Fire had to land the crates at the very edge of Scotland and wagons had to do the rest," explained the aide.

Sulu nodded. That, unfortunately, made sense. "They all work, yes?"

The Captain seemed nervous at the question. "I...don't know, General. The Irish seem to believe they do. Should we have them checked?"

Sulu shook his head. "No, they should be fine. It wouldn't do for the Irish to double-cross us this late in the game," he observed. "Distribute the weapons to the companies that will be performing the actual storming."

The Captain made a note of it on his notepad. "Very well, sir. Any preferences on the lead companies, sir?"

Sulu thought for a moment. "How many Second Legion companies do we have present?"

The Captain checked his notes before answering. "Out of two hundred in total, fifty are present in this campaign. Twenty five were assigned to Brigadier Longbottom's column, but only one made it across the bridge. That leaves forty nine that are at our disposal. The rest of the Legion is spread out around the Empire."

The Second Legion, nicknamed the Vanilla Lads, were the Empire's elite assault troops. While the First consisted of the all-around best troops in the entirety of the Empire, the Second Legion was the Empire's finest troops when it came to assaulting locations. When Sydney had been on the verge of being liberated, the Second Legion had been called in when a particularly difficult-to-take enemy position had been found. The Second Legion had, where no one else had managed, broken through the enemy defenses and captured the heavily fortified redoubt in question. Where hundreds had previously been lost, the Second Legion lost ten men.

"Which Company made it across the bridge?" asked Sulu, hoping it wasn't the one he wanted.

No suck luck. "The First Company, sir," reported the aide mournfully. He, too, would have loved to have the First Company of the Second Legion on hand for the assault on the gates. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

"Are any of the rest from the First Ten?" asked Sulu then. While losing the First was a blow to his offense, any of the first ten companies would do an equally admirable job, he knew. That was why they were collectively referred as the First Ten. Of course, this terminology only applied to the Founding Legions, the First Six. From the Seventh Legion onwards, none of the Legions had a specialized role like the First Six; they just provided the manpower needed for big offensives.

The aide nodded. "Fortunately, sir, the Third and Fourth Companies are here. The Second was assigned to Admiral Malan for her clean up work in Africa, and the others are spread out between the the Pacific, Continental Europe, and Canada."

Sulu nodded. Two out of ten First Ten companies was not bad. Most generals would undoubtedly go their whole careers without ever having one such Company under their command. That was how prized the First Ten companies of the First Six Legions were. To have one under one's command was a sign of personal excellence. Sulu, of course, could requisition all of them in his capacity as supreme military commander of the Empire—barring Elizabeth—but doing so would cost him the respect of probably the entire Army.

"I want both of them to spearhead the assault," he predictably ordered. The aide hadn't even needed the order before he was already jotting down the assignment. Not having the Third and Fourth Companies of the Second Legion lead the attack when they were present would have been both a military blunder and an insult to the Second's pride.

"As you say, sir," the aide dutifully said. "Anyone else you particularly wish to take a major role in the assault?"

Sulu thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No. Have the rest of the assault columns formed up with the usual mix of different Legions," he ordered.

"Yes, si--" began the aide, before Sulu cut him off just as quickly.

"No, wait," interrupted Sulu, raising a hand to his chin and frowning in thought. He remained this way for a few seconds before speaking up again. "Have the Seventh and Eighth Legions follow behind the Second Legion companies separately. Say...the Seventh Legion and Third Company on the left side of the gate, and the Eigth and Fourth on the right. Keep the remains of the Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth on reserve."

The aide raised an eyebrow. "Yes, sir," he said, not a little dubiously. What was the General planning?

"And," continued Sulu, "circulate a rumour amongst the men of those two Legions that the Legion to capture the wall quickest will receive a reward—a banquet hosted by Her Majesty in their honour."

The aide's eyes widened. Typically, he would have regarded this sort of underhanded tactic as reprehensible and outrageous manipulation. However, he could presently see the benefits of such a tactic, and they were many.

The Seventh and Eighth Legions were unremarkable, truth be told. They were, for the most part, post-Restoration volunteers. Many were experiencing battle for the first time on this day, and they had accounted for the majority of the casualties in the previous few assaults. Truthfully, the aide had considered suggesting pulling them off the line altogether, if only to stop the hemorrhage of dead bodies littering the battlefield.

However, this tactic of the General's could very well turn these city boys-turned-soldiers into real veterans. Anyone who lived in the Empire post-coup had developed a fanatic attachment to the Crown—even more so after the Restoration. He had heard that prior to their launch, the Second Legion had been witness to a speech and to the presence of the Queen herself. The Captain finally understood why the Second Legion had essentially gone berserk in this battle. They threw themselves like fanatics at the enemy, and where the Seventh and Eighth Legions had suffered terrible casualties, the Second had taken a good deal of the enemy with them, even though about two companies' worth of their men had been mowed down. A terrible price, but it had been enough to drive the enemy from the field and to their unassailable gate.

Frankly, with the way things were going every time an Imperial unit was graced with the Queen's presence, the Captain imagined it was only a matter of time before a cult sprung up. But that was unlikely.

In any case, he was quick to agree with Sulu's tactic. "A brilliant plan, sir," he praised as he jotted down the instructions. "When do you want the assault to begin?" he asked.

Sulu looked up at the lowering sun. Technically, he should wait until the next day before launching the attack, but something told him he should strike while the iron was hot, and the enemy was unaware of his new weapons. "Tonight," he stated after a moment of contemplation.

The aide was surprised. "Tonight, sir? Wouldn't dawn be a better time to launch such a massive assault?" he asked. He saw Sulu shake his head.

"Dawn grants the enemy more visibility, and they could find out about our new weapons. We cannot give them that time. We attack tonight," reasoned Sulu.

The aide was unsure of the soundness of this choice, but submitted to the will of the General nonetheless. With a solemn, respectful salute, the aide turned and left the general in order to carry out his instructions.

Sulu, meanwhile, was glaring at the gates beyond the Imperial camp. The blasted things had costed him too much already. If only he had curse breakers! But alas, those magic users skilled enough in order to become curse breakers had either opted to become a Shielder instead or had no interest in the profession, making curse breakers an incredibly rare and valued commodity in any army.

The dark-skinned general scowled at what he saw as the bane of his existence. How many letters did he now have to write to families telling them their sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, cousins, aunts, and/or uncles would not be coming home? All because he had underestimated the enemy.

Well, Sulu decided, that would never happen again.

Siege of Hogwarts, Day 2, Night – Front Gate Offensive.

Completely going against previous methodology, the Imperial camp had turned off all of its torches, leaving the Imperial field headquarters in total darkness, and at the same time eliminating them from the view of the gate defenders. Not that the automatons realized the significance of this tactic. After all, they were just soldier drones. Still, they patrolled the gate's walls dutifully and turned to look at the invisible Imperial camp every once in a while.

Unseen to them, two great Imperial columns had used the cover of darkness to get into position at their respective sites on either side of the gate. They were both about two hundred yards from the walls, and both columns had numerous siege ladders ready to be deployed.

As Sulu had instructed, the Seventh Legion and the Second Legion Third Company had stationed themselves on the left side, while the Eighth Legion and the Second Legion Fourth Company were on the right. Both columns were radiating eagerness. Both had, as Sulu had planned, heard the rumours of the Royal-hosted banquet in their honour if they captured their side the quickest, and both Legions had the spirits of their men burning bright with uncommon valour as a result. The general had no doubt that the men would fight multiple times as hard as they used to just because of the promise of this rich reward.

Sulu himself was standing at the edge of the camp facing the enemy gate, despite the reservations of his staff. He wanted to be as close as possible to get a good look at the situation as it developed. If all went well, after all, the siege of Hogwarts would be a great deal closer to completion. So absorbed was he by his thoughts and observations that failed to notice when a woman appeared at his side, wearing white Imperial Assassin robes.

"John," said the woman in an attempt to gain his attention. It worked, and Sulu slightly jumped from the sudden greeting. He visibly relaxed when he noticed the face under the cotton hood.

"Ginny," greeted Sulu with a smile, before realizing that he had no idea that the Duchess herself was to be present at this battle. Given the looks of her, she even looked ready to fight! "What on earth are you doing here?" he asked, perplexed.

Ginny smiled from under her hood. "Harry sent me, of course," she said plainly, as if there was any doubt to the contrary. "He said to show up if you started having difficulties."

Sulu couldn't help but feel slightly irritated as the unintentional blow to his pride. He knew he should simply be grateful for the help, but it didn't help that Harry had expected him to fail his given task. He idly wondered if Neville was also getting such help on his side.

"What are you offering to do?" he asked instead, actually quite curious. Alone, she would end up being butchered. Master assassin or not, no one could capture that gate single-handedly.

Ginny kept up her smile. "Our sources indicate that there's a small, very small passage to the other side of the gate in the mountain range to the east. It's too small for a decent flanking force, but good enough for me and my assassins."

Well, that answered one question—she had backup.

"We can circle the gates and attempt to open them from behind while you seek control of the walls," she continued. "Is that reasonable?"

Sulu nodded, but asked a question that he thought he probably knew the answer to. "Why not just wait for you to open the gate?" he asked. "Why have my men assault the walls in the first place?" Ginny raised an unseen eyebrow beneath her hood before giving a smirk.

"Distraction, of course. Besides, the enemy main force, from what we've managed to gather from Neville, is directly behind the gates. If you charge in after we open them without having captured the walls, you'll come directly against the enemy main army and get your flanks assaulted at the same time. I'm sure you understand what that would mean to this siege," she finished, her tone somewhere between amused and challenging.

Sulu understood very well what that meant, and so posed no challenge to the plan. If his flanks were not secured when he challenged the main army to battle, his army would be cut to pieces before the Imperial forces ever got a chance to do anything.

"Go, then," he agreed to the proposed plan. "Good luck."

Ginny nodded once before turning on the spot and disappearing. Fortunately, since the Apparation wards were not expanded beyond the gates of Hogwarts, she was unhindered in her movements. This left Sulu to his staff, and oddly, given Ginny's appearance, a semblance of calm filled the general. It was comforting to know that Harry was, through Ginny, was very much aware of what was happening and lending his aide whenever it was needed.

With that assurance in mind, Sulu looked up to the sky and saw only blackness. It was fitting, in a sense. He then looked down back to his staff and gave a brief nod. Immediately, the men in question had Shielders give the go-ahead.

As the two columns sprang to life, Sulu saw them move towards forward for a few seconds before the blackness of the night swallowed them up and they were gone from his vision. He and his staff remained silent thereafter, merely peering into the darkness before them, hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on.

"What now?" one of the more junior Generals asked.

Sulu kept his stare impassive. "We wait."

Wait long, they did not have to. Within minutes of the two columns disappearing from view, shouts broke out from the wall, and the darkness was suddenly swept away as several flare-like spells shot out into the sky from the wall. As clear as day, Sulu and his staff finally saw that the columns had managed to reach the wall unhindered, and several ladders had already been set up. Sulu smiled.

So far, things were going better than he had hoped.

Hogwarts Front Gates Offensive, Imperial Assassination Team Alpha...

Ginny reappeared silently before her assigned teammates, immediately noting their state of readiness and equipment. All of them were wearing black robes in order to better camouflage themselves in the night, and all of them seemed readily geared for their little mountain hike.

Ginny stared at all ten of her teammates for a second before nodding awkwardly at them. She was not used to leading teams. She was always on her own in her assigned missions, and so had never really gotten used to giving commands and the like. She preferred it that way, she supposed—less attachment to more people that lived their lives on the razor thin edge of a blade. She already knew and befriended enough of those to make her feel older than she was from the constant worrying.

She was also not unaware that the men currently under her command were looking at her with undisguised awe. She was a legend amongst Imperial Intelligence agents, and her kill record had yet to be beaten by anyone else. She was simply the best in her field. That didn't mean much to her, though. In a straight fight, she had no doubts that Sirius, Remus, or even the Potter elders could beat her—and none of them could beat Harry.

With the unspoken greeting out of the way, Ginny made a hand sign for them to follow her—the signal only visible to them thanks to the special, night-vision lenses they had all placed on their eyes—before turning around and making a dash for the mountain north of the main gate. The gate itself, rumour had it, was built out of a mountain that had originally existed where the gate now stood—a long and arduous work performed by the Founders. Whether that rumour was true or not mattered little to Ginny, because her target was not the main gate itself, but a small path that erosion and the passage of time had created through the mountain that bordered the gate's northern end.

Checking behind her, Ginny was pleased to see that her teammates were all keeping up with her running pace. While Assassins were supposed to keep on the move at fast paces on typical missions, Ginny had always been much faster than the common Assassin. Obviously, either Harry had arranged for the ten fastest Assassins to accompany her, or Imperial Intelligence had done so on their own initiative. Either way, it was convenient for her.

Given their pace, the team soon enough reached the foot of the mountain and had to crane their heads high in order to see how high the mountain went. Again, though, this mattered little to them outside of casual curiosity, and so they were back on the move the moment Ginny finished consulting her memory of where the passage was located.

They had to cover about half a mile in distance before finding the blasted route into the mountain—and even then, after having passed it twice. It was hard to find even if one was looking for it specifically. Practically a simple crack in the mountain side—undoubtedly the work of changing temperatures and rainfall, it was nonetheless big enough for the Assassins to make their way through.

Ginny turned to her teammates now and made another series of hand signals. She indicated that she would go through first, after which they were to follow immediately. After getting acknowledging nods from the other Assassins, Ginny took a deep breath and slid into the crack sideways. As the rock wall before her pressed at her breasts, she was thankful she had bound them tightly before setting out—otherwise, she might not have managed to get through at all, or the attempt would have been painful.

She kept going for about thirty metres of side-sliding before she finally reached an area that seemed wide enough to fit the largest of her teammates' width—leaving her ample space to maneuver in, given her own petite stature. Turning around, she patiently waited for the rest of her team to come into the wider path before signaling them to keep moving and then setting off herself. She only paused long enough to perk her ears as dull explosions sounded off in the distance.

One of her teammates, breaking typical mission protocol, observed, "Looks like the fight's started."

Ginny nodded quietly. She dared not speak, as she was not totally convinced that this path had fallen into their laps coincidentally. Then again, she was a very suspicious person by nature.

The rest of the team, however, were staring at the Assassin who'd spoken in a reproaching manner. They had all assumed that the man's speech had offended Ginny due to the fact that the rules demanded absolute silence during these missions. Little did they know that Ginny herself was not so quiet during most of her missions, typically showing herself to her victims and letting them have their final words. But then, she had the skill to allow that to happen and still get away—most Assassins didn't. Not yet, anyway.

Ginny ignored the stares and once again signaled the group to move out, with herself at the head of the group. This made a few of them uncomfortable yet again, of course, since they weren't sure as to the soundness of the Duchess leading this sort of risky mission. Sure, she was a legend amongst their kind, but she was also the Duke's wife, and there wasn't a man alive who didn't fear the Duke's retribution if ill tidings ever befell his precious wife.

Either way, the assassins kept their mouths shut. Speaking such concerns would probably offend the Duchess, and while they feared the "if" of the Duke's wrath if she got hurt, they also feared the "will" of the Duchess' wrath if they spoke out these fears.

Silently, the team of eleven assassins made their way down the path through the mountain, noticing that their elevation kept rising steadily as they progressed. If the path didn't start lowering soon, or evened out, at least, then they would face some difficulty getting down when they reached the end. None of them had brought mountain-climbing equipment, given the fact that none of them had actually considered that the path would keep rising, instead of remaining ground level. In hindsight, they really should have.

Ginny, however, was less than worried about such a scenario. How many times had she found herself at higher-than-convenient heights, only to get herself out of that mess? She knew enough of her craft by now to see such obstacles as annoyances, rather than hindrances. Another flurry of hand signals told her men to close ranks on her, given that she could hear the sounds of battle coming ever closer.

The ten assassins behind her immediately complied with her order, speeding up until less than a meter of distance was between each assassin. Sure enough, the path was finally sloping downwards, and the sounds of explosions were drawing nearer. Suddenly, Ginny raised a halting fist, and the assassins behind her ground to a sharp halt behind her.

"What is it, Your Grace?" asked the closest assassin.

Ginny did not answer immediately. Instead, she frowned as she considered the sight before her. The path they had taken was finally opening up to the battlefield beyond, and what she was observing made her uneasy. The front gate, as she had known previously, was being defended by the animated golems they had all seen and heard about. What worried her, however, was that there was seemingly no force behind the gate ready to reinforce the wall garrison. Unlike what she had told Sulu, the main force of the defending army was practically right smack in front of the second gate, which would have allowed the Imperial forces to gather themselves and maneuver as necessary before ever coming into contact with the enemy.

This was wrong. Something was definitely wrong with the entire situation. It was as if the enemy had full confidence that the Imperial forces would not be able to cross the gate, and from what she had seen, whoever was in control here had been very careful indeed.

This carelessness, on the other hand, simply threw her off. What had changed between the first day of the siege and today? Ginny let her eyes roam all across the walls that bordered the gate in an effort to find some anomaly in the enemy formations.

"Your Grace?" repeated the assassin closest to her. Without realizing it, Ginny had failed to answer her subordinate's question the first time around.

Shaking her head to regain focus, Ginny turned it slightly to address the assassin in question. "Something is wrong. The enemy formations make no sense," she told them briefly. "I'm trying to see if there are any unaccountable anomalies in the enemy formations that would explain this strange phenomenon."

The assassins behind her all nodded in understanding, and at least two joined her at her sides to help her scout out the enemy units on top of the walls. They remained so for a good twenty minutes before the man on her left shot out his arm and pointed towards the southern end of the wall.

"There!" he cried softly. "Where the wall molds into the mountain! Do you see it?"

Ginny squinted her eyes in that direction, as did the others in the group. "The silver glint?" she asked as she noted the location.

The assassin nodded. "There are three more such glints along the wall," he told them as he pointed out the three other locations. "I can't tell for sure, but they look like mechanical devices."

Ginny considered the guess with great focus. If that was true, then the three devices were having some sort of an effect on the defending forces at the wall which had made them retreat their main force away from the front gate. A sudden, terrible idea came to her mind, and her already pale complexion went even whiter as the ramifications of said idea hit her. But first, she had to make sure she wasn't being paranoid.

She quickly pointed out two of the assassins. "You two, make your way to the end of this path and find out if there are similar devices on our side of the wall!" she hissed out. "Go!"

Immediately and silently, the two assassins jumped over her and their other two comrades and made their way down the path towards its exit, always ensuring to remain absolutely quiet and inconspicuous. The remaining eight assassins turned towards Ginny curiously.

"What are you thinking, Your Grace?" asked one of them—the one to her right.

Ginny shrugged. "At the moment, nothing. But if they find what I hope they don't find, then we're going to have to change our mission parameters before the Imperial forces capture the gate," she told them seriously. "Worst case scenario, Hogwarts Valley becomes impenetrable."

The Duchess' grim prediction hit the men beside her rather hard. The mentioned scenario was an admission of total defeat for the otherwise unstoppable Imperial Army, and none of them wanted to even consider what the consequences would bring onto the Empire.

"Is there something specific we should prepare ourselves to do, Your Grace?" asked the same assassin as before.

Ginny nodded. "Prepare to defuse very sensitive explosives," she told them flatly before giving them a reluctant and gloomy look. "And, if that's not possible, prepare yourselves to give your lives for the Empire."

"Your Grace?" asked one of the remaining assassins in shock.

Ginny gave them a no-nonsense look. "We are all here assassins. We know that one day, we will have to die, just as we met out death to the Empire's enemies. That being said, while we usually would die during a failed mission, here we must prepare ourselves to give our lives to ensure that the lives of thousands of others are kept safe from harm. If the explosives cannot be defused, I want you all to try to carry one out of range from the mountain and ensure that it explodes safely out of the Imperial Army's way."

She didn't have to see beneath the assassins' hoods to know they had paled considerably at her orders. No soldier of the Empire ever willingly chose to die when they were equally presented with a choice that allowed them to live, so having their superior explicitly tell them that they could probably have to die willingly, even if it was for the sake of others, shook them terribly.

None of them were cowards—that was not the question. The problem was that they were also, for the most part, family men and women. All of them had a lot to lose, and none of them were all that eager to part with the people and things they had left behind in Harrisburg. Even if assassins had a potential death rate per mission of 75%, that was still 25% chance that they would survive and come home to their families if they took care of themselves.

As her orders were sinking into the assassins, Ginny kept her eyes fixed on the end of the path below. She avidly awaited for either confirmation or denial of her fears from her two scouts, and every passing second was another second the rest of the team used to gather their doubts about the soundness of her orders. She personally disliked the situation as well, and also had a lot to lose—her daughter, her husband, her family, etc...—but she knew when sacrifice was needed, and that was unfortunately right now, if her fears proved correct.

Almost by mental summons, she saw the two scouts appear once again at the path exit. The two were sprinting towards her as they had been taught—light-footed and silent. Even in the middle of her despondent thoughts, Ginny couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride at the training the assassins went through—many of which's aspects had been designed with her consultation.

The two assassins quickly took a knee before her own kneeling position and gave the coded hand signal that would prove their identities. Once she replied in kind, they were quick to report. The one on the left went first.

"We can confirm that the northern edge of the wall also possesses the strange devices spotted on the southern end," said a female voice smoothly, before her partner took over the report.

"We can also confirm that there are six, not three, devices on each end. They seem lightly guarded. In fact, the whole wall seems devoid of the numbers previously seen manning them," reported the male assassin.

Ginny looked grim. "That's because they don't intend to put up any more than a token defense, in order to lure us in," she told them, her tone matching the look on her face. "It's a trap. The moment the Imperial Army takes the walls, or even has a section of it cross over, the devices—which I'm assuming are explosives—will detonate and probably attempt to bury the gate in the consequential rockslide. Whoever is on the enemy's side of the gate will be trapped, and our side of the wall will be impenetrable. Or, if we do manage to get through, it won't be but for another few months, since all of it will have to be done without the use of artillery, due to the wards."

Understanding flooded the minds of Ginny's teammates, as they now understood why she had felt the need to tell them of the possibility of their own deaths. If the devices were not taken care of, then thousand of Imperial soldiers would perish under the rockslide or at the hands of the enemy on the other side. That was simply unacceptable.

Ginny looked at her teammates seriously. "I'm going to give you all just one chance," she stated. "Whoever isn't ready to give up their lives for the Empire, go back to the camp and tell General Sulu what the situation is," she offered. "Everyone else, you had better get your mind set to this, because if we can't defuse the devices, we need to clear them out of the area, or at least minimize the blast damage as much as possible."

Ginny took a deep breath. "I cannot stress enough how important this is," she told them. "Leaving the situation as is and continuing with our original mission is now unacceptable. We cannot, in good conscience, leave our brothers and sisters of Britannia," she borrowed the terms from Harry's own speeches, "to die, when we could have made a difference and saved them. So, once again, who will accompany me to do our duty, and who will go back to the camp to warn them of the impending danger, in the hope that even if we fail, our brethren will have evacuated themselves from the area?"

All ten of her teammates were predictably silent now, and Ginny knew she could not rush them. They had to make this choice on their own, and any push she tried to give them could maybe force them into a hasty decision that they could possibly not carry out later on. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of battle still raging on, and that apparently served as enough of a reminder of the urgency of their situation to make the assassins decide.

Nine of them vowed to follow her. Only one decided to turn back, although the man had a shameful look on his face as he confessed his reluctance to follow them. Ginny understood. Even if her own will was set to carry out her duty, she couldn't help but feel overpowering despair at the idea of losing her daughter, husband, and extended family.

With a final nod, she saw the assassin leave back the way he came, while the remaining nine stared at her stonily. They were not pleased with their situation, but they would also not falter. Not now. Giving them a grateful look, Ginny pulled her hood a little lower, trying to cover as much of her face as possible.

"All of you who have stayed, you have my thanks," she told her men sincerely. "Are you ready?"

There was no pause in their response, this time around. All nine assassins before her nodded firmly. Giving her own firm nod of acknowledgement, she turned on her heel and promptly launched herself forward, her men right behind.

Do or die, they would fulfill their mission.

Hogwarts Flanking Attack...

Neville grunted as he pulled himself up a few more feet. He was not used to this type of exertion, and neither were most of his men. Not even the First Company of the Second Legion seemed able to endure the mountainous climb. Yet, that being said, none of them stopped in their ascent. Even if their muscles screamed out in pain, the Imperial forces kept their climb steady, even as they carried their gear on their backs.

Neville was, of course, at the highest point of the column, having persuaded his people that he would always be at the forefront of the attack, even if it included climbing up a mountain. His face was contorted into a fierce grimace as he felt his muscles straining to keep up with his untrained pace. He had droplets of sweat converging into many running streaks all over his face, and his hands were getting red and raw from the friction of the rope. Someone had suggested enchanting the rope in order to avoid this, but Neville had reminded them that doing so would have eliminated the necessary friction for them to even get a grip on it.

Neville was nothing if not bullheaded, though, and kept going even as every inch of him begged him to stop and get a breather. But no breather was to come, as Neville himself could hear the sounds of battle coming from the direction of the front gates. He knew Sulu was in the midst of his newest attack on the gate, and thus this was the best time for Neville to get his men to the top, as the enemy would be distracted by the vastly more dangerous main army. Neville briefly allowed himself to glance down towards the rest of his men. They seemed just as tired as he felt, if not more.

Gritting his teeth and returning his attention to his task, Neville gave out a low grunt as he pulled himself even higher.

"Come on, men! Climb!" he roared, the wind currents thankfully making sure that no one on top of the cliff would hear him. "Britons are dying! Climb!"

His words had the desired effect of putting some fire into the men's spirits, and the climbing rate jumped by a few feet per minute. Neville himself was rising at surprising speed despite his tiredness. By all accounts, his physique should not have been able to handle this lengthy a climb without having had to stop at some point, especially at the speed they were going.

Barely an hour had passed since they had begun their ascent, and they were more than halfway up the cliff side—an impressive feat for the mix-matched remains of his column. He had men and women from the Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth Legions, as well as the First Company of the Second Legion in its entirety. All in all, a motley crew—but one that was distinguishing itself extraordinarily so far. Perhaps it was the urgency of the situation, perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through their veins. Whatever it was, Neville hoped that it would keep coming until the battle ended, lest his men lose the fire that seemed to possess them at this moment.

Little bits of rocks fell past him as his grip dislodged fragments of broken sediment with each grab, but Neville paid it little to no heed. There was a war going on—the enemy was unlikely to hear anything over the sound of explosions. Once, he thought his grip would falter as the piece of outcropping seemed to waver between breaking and not, but to his relief, the rock had stayed firm. Underneath him, however, Neville heard someone grumble irritably as a piece of loose rock smacked him in the forehead. Neville couldn't help the grin and look down to apologize. It was so rare for these sort of odd, humorous moments to appear that he had to give it proper recognition.

"Sorry!" he whispered down to the grumbling soldier, who merely glared up at his commander. News of the incident spread fast amongst the climbing troops, and more than one soldier chuckled under their breath at the occurrence.

The moment soon passed, however, and the group of soldiers resumed their ascent with their infused vigor.

Another hour had to pass before the remains of the Imperial flanking column finally reached the top of the cliff. By the time they had, however, they were almost all exhausted beyond movement. Neville, who had been the first to reach the top, was barely rallying enough inner willpower to keep standing upright. From the pained look on his face and the wobbliness of his legs, it was clear that he wouldn't be on his feet for much longer. His hands were red and raw, and just the cool breeze against them on top of the cliff seemed to make the Brigadier flinch in pain.

How on earth were they supposed to fight the enemy now?

Neville seemed to have realised this dilemma, because his eyes were swinging every which way, scouting out places for his men to rest in without giving themselves away once daylight broke. He had not factored the sheer exhaustion his men would be feeling once they had finished the climb in his plans, and he was now paying for it dearly.

"Ten percent," Neville suddenly said under his breath, in between panting breaths.

On the floor near him, one of his remaining officer corps looked at him oddly. "Ten percent what, sir?" he asked curiously.

Neville almost jumped, having been distracted by his thoughts and unaware that he had spoken out loud. "Eh?" he asked smartly, before processing the posed question. "Oh, ten percent efficiency. It's an old Chinese method used around the end of the second century," he explained. "It's so we can calculate how well we'll do in battle. Ten percent means we're screwed, by the way," he added sardonically. "unless I can find us a place to rest without getting caught out in the open in the morning."

Not that the current state of affairs didn't reveal them enough as it was. Between the assault on the main gate, the heavy artillery support of the former, and the Royal Navy bombing the main gate's rear flank wards, the sky was lit up to the point that daylight would have had no effect on the lighting.

That, of course, meant that unless Neville could find his 2,000 odd troops safe haven within the next few minutes, they would probably be found by the enemy, and his men were in no condition to fight back emotionless, tireless golems. His expression was grim, but also one unwilling to give up.

Apparently, to reward this show of bullheaded determination, Fate seemed to have decided to grant Neville his desire. His eyes, wandering as they were in growing panic, finally settled on what looked like a small path that went down on the other side of the cliff. Wobbling his way towards the inconspicuous path, he felt a growing sense of elation as he saw it head down along the cliff to what seemed to be an opening in the side of the cliff. Forcing himself to move, he slowly made his way to the opening and found, to his joy, that the crevasse was in fact a cave. From the looks of it, it had been carved into the mountain by magic, but abandoned for some reason or another. It was certainly large enough to host most of his men, and since he had barely expended any magic this day, he could use what little strength he had left to expand it so that they could all rest in here. An obscuring charm would take care of any daylight dragon patrols, too.

Wobbling his way back to the top of the cliff where his men waited for their Brigadier to return, he quickly waved at them to get their attention and made a motion for them to follow. He could practically hear the inaudible groans as the men forced themselves on their feet and trudged their way towards him. While he waited, Neville pondered on the presence of the cave on the side of the cliff.

He did not recall it from his Hogwarts days, and he had visited the cliff often enough, especially once Harry and the Royal Northern Army had shown up and set camp there. Plus, from the feel of the residual magic in the cave, the cavern had been dug out much more recently than that. Neville doubted that Voldemort had done it, since it would serve no purpose.

Yet again wobbling over to the cavern, Neville examined the cave more in depth. It was big—that, there was no doubt of. And considering the inconspicuous path that led to it, he had to assume that it had not been meant for the general public to know. The magic involved in its creation seemed powerful, too, yet not dark or ancient—so that ruled out the Founders or Voldemort.

"What's a hideout doing here?"

Neville nearly jumped from the suddenness of the question, and whirled around to see Emily Murphy, the Irish-born private from the Second Legion's First Company who had scaled the cliff ahead of all of them to scout it out. Neville, however, was more focused on her question.

"What are you talking about?" he asked quickly, suddenly disregarding his own tiredness and feeling a sense of alertness he hadn't felt since he'd begun the climb. "How do you know this is a hideout?"

Emily blinked at her commanding officer blankly before flushing red in embarrassment and then quickly answering. "Well...it's not actually called a hideout..." she mumbled, before speaking up. "It's actually called a...what was it? Ah! A Sicherer Hafen!" she exclaimed, remembering the term.

Neville blinked. Was that...German?

Emily grinned. "It means 'safe haven' in German. Grindelwald's forces had a lot of these built near the end of the war in order to safely retreat their forces out of sight and then launch unexpected counterattacks," she explained. "My grandfather was a wizard who fought during the war, and he found tons of these," she said, before giving the cavern a critical eye. "Whoever made this one, though, hadn't had much practice..."

Neville blinked again. He then looked around before returning a confused gaze at Emily, barely noticing the file of weary troops plodding into the cavern and slumping against the walls or on the ground.

"Isn't this just a normal cave?" he asked uncertainly.

Emily gave the cavern another once-over before shaking her head. "Nope. It's a Hafen, alright," she declared certainly. She pointed to a section of rock near the entrance to the cave. "Look over there, about two feet off the ground."

Neville glanced at Emily skeptically but went over anyway, deciding to humor the girl. Once there, he took a knee and examined the rock wall, expecting to find nothing. Yet, to his surprise, exactly where Emily pointed at was a barely noticeable symbol carved smoothly into the wall. It looked like a triangle enclosing a circle split in half by a vertical line.

"Anyone who's read up on Grindelwald will tell you that's his sign," Emily told him as she walked over to him and leaned down to look for herself, having deduced that he had found it. "Do you recognize it?" she asked.

Neville couldn't believe it, but he did. He was a pureblood, after all, and he had been told the stories when he was younger by his Grandmother. It was well known amongst those ancient families that still held some respect for some of the older traditions.

"The Deathly Hallows," he whispered, tracing his finger over the symbol.

Emily nodded. "My grandfather was the last of the Proctor family," she told him. Anyone with basic understanding of the history of Magical Britain knew that the Proctor family had once been a large, influential clan of magic users centered in Cornwall. "He married my gran, and had a single daughter—my mother."

Well, that explained the end of the Proctor line, figured Neville. "He told you the stories, then?" he asked.

Emily nodded. "Fairy tales, all of it," she judged without batting an eyelash. "Even if the Hallows were real, I doubt they'd be anything more than remarkable works of magical artisanship," she opined, before digressing back to the initial topic. "Anyway, whoever made this cavern either fought in that war, or knows more about Grindelwald than the books say, because I know for a fact that no one ever included the Sicherer Hafen in the books—just so no one else could get influenced by the idea."

Neville glanced up at Emily before returning his sight to the symbol. Off the top of his head, there was only one person who could have been as intimately knowledgeable of Grindelwald's battlefield tactics.

"Dumbledore did this," he stated out loud, surprising his subordinate.

"Dumbledore? As in, Albus Dumbledore, the Queen's advisor?" asked Emily for clarification.

Neville nodded. "The same. Although he's not exactly the Queen's advisor right now—he disappeared right after the battle at Harrisburg," observed Neville as he got to his feet. "Though it shouldn't surprise me he created this cave. He had to have fought the Death Eaters after the central government fell. This was probably made to give his people either a place to escape to or fight from."

Emily nodded. "Well, if that's true, then this place probably has a backdoor exit."

Neville started at this revelation. "A backdoor?"

Emily nodded once again. "If the way in is the same as the way out, can you imagine how easy it would have been to take these places down during the war? The Sicherer Hafen were so dangerous because the entryway was much different from the exit. From what grandad told me, the Hafen in Saxony were particularly nasty because they were all interconnected with a central base underground, so Grindelwald's men were able to move from one Hafen to the other without much trouble."

Neville nodded, appreciating the tactical benefits of such a layout. While it made finding the central base easy, it also meant just as easy redeployment of defending troops. It was an ingenious ploy. "So there should be a similar path somewhere in this cave?" he asked, noticing that the amount of men trailing in was decreasing, meaning that they were all almost inside. That surprised the Brigadier a bit—it meant Dumbledore had also added expansion charms to the cave.

Emily nodded, looking around for the ideal place for such an entrance. "It's likely either charmed to look inconspicuous, or it really is. Likely, it's at the back of this Hafen, but if it's the work of Dumbledore as you say, then he might have gone with a horizontal variation of the Hafen."

"A what?"

Emily smirked at her superior for a split second before remembering her own place in military hierarchy. "A horizontal variation of the Sicherer Hafen. Instead of having the hidden path at the back of the cave, two paths are placed at the sides. It doubles the amount of troops that can flow into the cave, and can additionally increase the amount of places the troops can come from."

"And where would this path lead us to?" Neville asked, his voice softer now as he noticed the majority of his men sleeping off their lack of energy.

Emily didn't respond immediately, but Neville could see in her eyes that she had a good idea of where the secret passage would go to.

"Most likely?" she asked. Neville nodded. "Hogwarts Castle."

Edge of the Hogwarts Grounds Wards

The sight of over a dozen Airships hovering just before the Hogwarts wards was a mighty thing to behold. Each of the monstrous flying machines was positively covered in weaponry, and seemed anxious to partake in the battle that their brethren on the ground were participating in.

Yet here they hovered, patient.

At the very front of the array of ships was the HMAS Invincible, the Imperial Airfleet's de facto flagship. Indomitable and majestic, it too shared the anxiety to go into battle, but could not due to the heavy anti-technological wards that would shut it down the moment it tried to pass through.

Of course, they had nonetheless found a way through.

At the very forefront of the Invincible, a platform had been erected at the tip of the ship's bow. On it were three people, two of which seemed to be shivering from the heavy winds blowing against them at this altitude, while the third was seemingly relaxed, a wand in his hand and his red hair billowing in its ponytail behind him.

Bill Weasley smiled serenely as he rose both his wand hand and his free hand, taking a pose not unlike that of a conductor about to perform a concert. With a motion of his free hand, he also waved over one of the two shivering figures—a silver-blonde woman of ethereal beauty, while the remaining figure, a stern-looking man in an Imperial Admiral's uniform simply pulled his windbreaker closer to himself.

"And now," he announced, Fleur taking her place beside him, wand in hand and in a similar pose, "for the next six hours, we will begin the destruction of the Hogwarts Grounds Anti-Technological Ward."

From "A Complete Guide to the Imperial Armed Forces," by J.J. Silverson

Chapter X: "The First Ten"

"Like the history of the Legions previously discussed implies, a single company of the First Six Legions was a prized commodity to any Imperial commander. However, even within these Legions, an unofficial hierarchy was established to denote the skill level and renown of the companies. For this reason, the First Six, to this day, continue the tradition of the First Ten—creatively enough, the first ten companies of any of the Founding Legions.

...As the name implies, the First Ten are the numerically lowest companies of the Legion they are in. However, membership in these legendary companies is only possible via veteran status within the Legion as a whole. No new recruit has ever, in the history of the First Six, gone into the First Ten from the get go. Recruits for these companies are picked out of the remaining Legionary companies, and only then only the best of the veterans.

Members of the First Ten are not just proficient in combat. Depending on the role of the Legion, or the commander at their helm, the First Ten have been known to also include many future strategists or SpecOps legends..."