A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.
A/N2: My apologies for the late update. This was supposed to be sent up on the 19th, but personal circumstances had delayed the completion of the chapter.
NINE
Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire, England
British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia
October 21, 1995
Armed guards patrolled the perimeter of the large house that seem to stand in the middle of nowhere at regular intervals. Every now and then, a dog patrol – two men armed with assault rifles, one of whom had the leash of an attack dog on his hand – could be seen roving the grounds as well, though their coming and going was not as rare as the coming and going of two armored personnel carriers that were running racing patterns around the estate. Above, unseen but undeniably heard, a pair of naval fighters also trace racing patterns as they carry out their combat air patrol over the newly designated temporary headquarters of the Grand Fleet.
Inside one of the larger rooms of the house that was widely acknowledged as the largest privately owned home in the British Isles and Europe, nearly a dozen people were seated at a large rectangular table. Most of the people inside were wearing the dress uniform of the Imperial Fleet, but there are at least three people inside who were wearing clothes that would be considered civilian, and one of them was seated at the head of the table.
The number of people wearing the black tailcoat uniform of the Imperial Navy – standard day dress of flag-grade officers, admirals above – however, clearly outnumbered those wearing either civilian clothing or those wearing the blue double-breasted coat – standard day dress of every other office in the Imperial Navy below field-grade rank – of the Imperial Navy. It was obvious that inside the room, the high command of the Imperial Navy in the British Isles – Lord Alexander's powerful Grand Fleet – was gathered.
Lord James, Viscount of Lisbourne, allowed his gaze to wander around the room. He had been told that Lord Alexander had chosen the house as his temporary headquarters for he had no love of returning to London and giving the impression that he is dictating to the civilian government that had been in place even before his appointment as Prince of Wales and Prince of Scotland.
The room that they were in right now was one of the larger rooms in the house and functioned as a meeting room back when the British Isles was still part of the United Kingdom and the owner of the house was still a part of the now defunct Whig Party. It made sense that now – nearly a hundred years later – it would be performing the same function, albeit for a different political party and a different government.
James returned his gaze to what was in front of him and suppressed a sigh. Beside him, his wife – none too gently – kicked his sheens under the table, earning a sharp gasp from James though he refused to make a public scene, and instead, the Viscount turned his attention toward his wife with a questioning look, but for a reply, Lily merely inclined his head toward the head of the table where their liege lord was seated, also absently poking on the food in front of him.
Beside the Prince of Scotland and the Prince of Wales, Lady Emma was subtly observing what her fiancée was doing. There was a hint of an amused smile on the face of the Marchioness as she continued to watch the Prince, but like James and Lily, Lady Emma was not going to say anything, at least, not in front of all of these people.
James turned his attention away from the head of the table and toward the people in front of him. The current occupants of the table were arranged in such a way that the military and civilian supporters of the Prince were on one side, and the members of the civilian government were on the other.
James focused his attention on the man who was seated at the first chair of the civilian government side and politely inclined his head toward the man. The graying top of the head of James Frederick Monroe was well known even to those who would profess to be against the Holy Empire, if only for the fact that the man is the prime minister of the British Isles.
A lawyer turned politician and an ardent supporter of the limited form of democracy that was in place in the British Isles, there are rumors that the man was pushing for more autonomy for the British Isles, increased diplomacy with the Prussian Empire, and even a completely independent Britain from the Holy Empire. It was not surprising to see that the man was not entirely comfortable at being too close with the man who represents the power of the Golden Throne in the British Isles.
Nevertheless, the man seemed affable enough during the small conversations that he had with Lord Alexander and Lady Emma while they were having dinner, though now that dinner was over, James realized that the real reason for the meeting that Lord Alexander had called for was about to be brought out, and the Viscount – unaware what that topic is – was not sure how the prime minister would react.
'Perhaps that is the reason why the brass of the Grand Fleet is here in force,' James thought to himself as he turned his attention toward the people who were seated at his side of the table.
James and Lily occupied the first two seats at their side, a testament to the fact that they are the highest ranking nobles in their side, but immediately beside Lily – and extending down to the end of the table – are men wearing military uniforms. As if that was not enough, the amount of triangles and diamonds in the room was staggering, and James wondered if there was actually a staff or flag-grade officer from the Grand Fleet left with the ships.
At some unspoken signal that only Lord Alexander – and probably Lady Emma – was aware of, the Prince placed his utensils on the top of his plate. It scarcely took five seconds before a waiting staff approached Lord Alexander and offered to take the half-full plate in front of him.
The fact that Lord Alexander had asked for his plate to be cleared was a signal to everyone else in the table that dinner was now over and the reason that they are all here was about to begin. It took another five minutes before the table has been cleared well enough – plates were gone, but the cups of coffee were still there – for the meeting to begin.
As was usual, it was Lord Alexander who spoke first, "Gentlemen," he said, before a smile graced his face, "and ladies," he added. Since there are only two ladies that would be taking part in this briefing – Lady Emma and Lily – his addendum was forgiven.
"Lady Emma and I had received an order from the capital," Lord Alexander began, and as the Prince had expected, the murmurings began even before he could explain what the order was about. He was also unsurprised that the loudest gossipers were those who came from the civilian government. His officers may be murmurings amongst themselves, but they at least had the good sense to pretend that they are not.
The Prince allowed the murmurings to carry on for a full minute – there was nothing that he could do even if he tried to stop the murmuring before that full minute, the civilians are not exactly facing him – before he raised his hand in the universal motion for stop. It took another few seconds before they saw him and the room quieted down once more enough for Lord Alexander to speak.
"We – Lady Emma and myself – had been ordered back to the mainland for a few weeks, a month at the most," Lord Alexander said as he inclined his head toward his fiancée, who – unsurprisingly – was not saying anything, rather, the Lady Emma was observing everyone else in the table in her own subtle way.
This time, there were no murmurings and Lord Alexander continued, "We do not know the reason why we had been asked to return to the mainland," he said, "We just received the order to return to the mainland," a smile came across his face before he glanced at his fiancé and added, "We are sure that it's not about our impending marriage."
There were smiles along the ranks of Lord Alexander's military supporters, but there was nothing but confusion amongst the ranks of the government officials, a confusion that Lord Alexander pointedly ignored as it was not worth his time, and besides, he had expected the confusion on their faces.
"In my absence," Lord Alexander continued, "Admiral Dalton would be in command of the Grand Fleet, as is his right per the hierarchy of command within the fleet."
The man whom Lord Alexander named nodded as he accepted the command of his superior officer. At fifty one years of age, Admiral Daniel William Dalton – who has his flag aboard the Duke-class battleship HMS Black Prince – is the admiral – second-in-command – of the Grand Fleet. A career battleship officer with more than forty years experience with the battlewagons of war including at least ten in commanding one, he is the senior-most officer in the Grand Fleet, and has nominal command of the battleship line – forty five dreadnoughts – of the Grand Fleet.
"Lord James Potter, Viscount of Lisbourne, would be acting in my capacity as Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales while I am in Pendragon," Lord Alexander continued as he turned his gaze toward James who nodded his acknowledgement of the order.
"Prime Minister," Lord Alexander continued as he turned his attention toward the head of the semi-democratic government of the British Isles, "In my absence, I would request that you course to Lord James any business that would require my approval as Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales."
"Of course, Your Highness," the Prime Minister replied as he inclined his head toward Lord Alexander in ascent. As the Prince of two of the four core territories of the British Isles – and with those other two not having their own princes – the approval of Lord Alexander is normally required when parliament would pass a law national in character, especially if said law was penal in nature. It was something that the British Parliament was not used to given the fact that Lord Alexander had only been recently appointed to his principality.
In fact, Lord Alexander was reasonably certain that the man resented his authority, but the Prince was well aware of the rumors behind the man that the parliament had chosen to lead them, and this was but an attempt to remind the man that no matter how powerful he thinks he is, he is still subject to the rule of the Golden Throne, and in the British Isles, the Throne is represented by Lord Alexander.
"Lord James," Lord Alexander said as he turned his attention toward the highest ranking – actually, the only one – noble in the room, "In my absence, I trust that you would be able to act in my stead, and in this regard, I am going to make available the assistance of Rear Admiral Ashford," – Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his chief advisor who stood at the mention of his name – "who would be staying behind while the rest of my staff would be joining me for the trip."
James inclined his head toward his liege lord before he turned his attention toward the admiral. Rear Admiral Ashford had a neutral look on his face that made it difficult for James to consider whether or not the man was resentful at being left behind, but James realized that the Prince must have already spoken with his chief advisor before he made the announcement; it was what the Prince would do.
A few moments later, the Prince dismissed the meeting, and everyone in the room stood after their Prince and his fiancé. James and Lily followed suit and bowed while Lord Alexander escorted Lady Emma out of the room. James would have considered staying behind and mingling with the people who were still inside the room, had it not been for the fact that the moment that Lord Alexander and Lady Emma had left the room, Rear Admiral Ashford approached him and told them that Lord Alexander was waiting at an antechamber so that they could have a private meeting.
Nodding, James and Lily followed the Admiral, unaware of the looks that Prime Minister Monroe was shooting them as they walked out of the room.
The antechamber that Rear Admiral Ashford led James and Lily into was only a few degrees smaller than the chamber from where they had came from. It seemed roomier than the other chamber though, an illusion brought about by the fact that there are very few portraits in this room, and most of the things inside the room were comfy sofas, chairs, and end tables. It was precisely in one of these comfy sofa-chairs that James found Lord Alexander.
The Prince was seated beside Lady Emma – although that was not surprising, in fact, it would have been more surprising if he was not seated beside her – who held his left hand while his right hand played with the teaspoon on his coffee. Around the couple, a number of officers – they were all wearing the Imperial military uniform – were gathered, seated in their own seats with not quite a few of them sipping their own coffee cups.
"James," Lord Alexander greeted the man he had appointed to act in his stead as James and Lily took their designated seats at the same time that he stopped playing with the teaspoon on his coffee. As soon as James, Lily, and Rear Admiral Ashford were seated, the Prince turned his attention toward his chief-of-staff and with a curt nod, he signaled for Vice Admiral Cline to begin.
"My Lord, My Lady," Vice Admiral Cline began, politely greeting James and Lily, "Gentlemen," and that greeting was for everyone else in the room save for the Prince and the Marchioness, "We have a situation."
'Hence the reason that we are all here, Admiral Cline,' James thought to himself, but the Viscount of Lisbourne refrained from voicing that out loud, especially since James knew that the Vice Admiral was only the opening act.
The Viscount turned his attention away from the speaker so that he may study the faces of the men who were gathered inside the room. James recognized Admiral Dalton as amongst those who were gathered, at the same time that James recognized Admiral Arthur Bingham.
The man in charge of the battlecruisers – fifteen ships – of the Grand Fleet and third-in-command of the Grand Fleet after Lord Alexander and Admiral Dalton, fifty year old Admiral Arthur Bingham was a career cruiser officer with more than ten years experience with battlecruisers. Recently appointed commander of the battlecruiser squadron of the Grand Fleet, the Admiral brings with him years of experience as a sailor, commander, and fleet officer from all around the world.
"Although I've told the civilians that I have no idea why we are being called back," Lord Alexander began, and his action caused James to abandon his intent to study the faces of the men that were gathered inside the room with them, focusing his gaze instead on the face of his liege lord. James turned his attention toward Lord Alexander just in time to watch as the man admitted, "I have a few rough ideas as to why I had been called back."
For her part, Lily was about to remind the Prince that the Marchioness had been recalled as well, but before the Countess could say anything, by chance, she shifted her gaze toward Lady Emma. Lily blinked and would have gasped when she realized that it was only Lord Alexander who had been recalled, Lady Emma was just tagging along, as was expected of her.
That realization caused Lily to relax back at her seat, and she allowed her back to land gently on the cushion that was built into the backrest of the chair. Beside her, her husband was doing anything but, and Lily was more than prepared to bet that James was ready to join the growing number of admirals who were nervously fidgeting amongst themselves as they waited for the next words that would come out of the mouth of their General-Admiral.
"My strongest hunch," Lord Alexander began as soon as he had replaced his coffee cup on the surface beside him after he had drunk from it, "is that it has something to do with the succession."
Lord Alexander could not have commanded his men to look at each other, but that was precisely the effect of his announcement. Military officers wearing the triangles of staff-grade and the diamonds of flag-grade officers turned to look at each other as if trying to confirm if they had heard the announcement of their commanding officer properly. It would have taken only one voice from one random person before the queries would turn verbal, but Lord Alexander was aware of that, and the Prince moved to prevent anyone from the gathered from voicing anything.
"It is common knowledge that the Crown Prince is suffering from an advantage stage of heart disease," Lord Alexander said, "These past three years alone, he had been to the hospital twice for serious surgery, one of them an open-heart bypass."
Lord Alexander was, of course, correct. The frequent visit of Crown Prince Richard York to the hospital was known to everyone who would bother to pick up a paper every morning. Everyone was also aware that the Empress was deathly worried about the succession because of it, and, finally, everyone knew that while the Empress favored her son to succeed her, the same could not be said for the son of her son. It was fairly common knowledge amongst the staff at the Crystal Palace that the Empress prefers that Lord Alexander – not his younger cousin, the son of Crown Prince Richard, Archduke Edward of Rosenbaum – succeed her throne should Prince Richard not be able to do it.
It was also a very real possibility given the health of the Crown Prince compared to the health of the Empress, and the fact that the Empress had already buried three children.
"In any case," Lord Alexander said, causing the impending speculation to stop even before it could begin, "that is not the reason that I asked for all of you here today," he turned his attention toward James and said, "Lord James, I fear that the news of my departure from these isles might be taken by our enemies that they would have free reign over these isles."
"My Lord," James formally replied, "between Admiral Ashford, myself, and the officers and men of the Grand Fleet as well as those of the Imperial Armed Services that would stay behind, I am sure that we could handle any threat."
Lord Alexander stared at James for a few moments, a neutral expression obvious on his face. Finally, after a few moments, he nodded, "I would trust you with this, as I had trusted you in many other things, Lord James," he said, and before anyone could say anything, the Prince added, "but I worry about the magicals at Hogwarts."
"Sir," Rear Admiral Ashford entered the conversation, "We already have a contingency to put into effect should the magicals at Hogwarts break the Oath while you are absent from the isles."
"Really?" Lord Alexander seemed surprised by the declaration of his chief advisor, and that was all that James needed to see in order to know that his liege lord was not aware of the plan of his chief advisor, "tell me about it," Lord Alexander ordered.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness
Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia
October 22, 1995
There was a smile on the face of Hermione as she approached the Great Hall of Hogwarts that morning. The young girl might be clutching her book bag right now – because Harry, who would have insisted to be the one to carry it, was nowhere in sight – but she knew for a fact that the young man who was the reason for the smile on her face to be there would be joining her before the start of her first class for this morning.
Not even the fact that she was scheduled to have potions with the Slytherins today would remove the smile on her face, not that it really mattered since Professor Snape, despite his reputation among her fellow Gryffindors, generally ignore her. Hermione would not speculate as to the reason for that however, and in any case, she was not really thinking about that as she walked past the four counters that represent the current standing in the yearly House Cup.
Hermione was thinking about her future. It might not be specifically about Harry, but he was there. The most prominent thought in the mind of Hermione at that moment, however, are the institutions of higher learning that she had dreamed of attending, but had nearly given up on when she learned that she was a witch.
The unusual situation that had brought Harry into her life had also brought his parents into her life, and it was his parents that brought the prospect of Hermione attending prestigious schools in the mainland Britannia into her life. The young woman could barely stifle the giggle that threatened to come out of her mouth as she thought about how she would feel like when the time comes for her to be carrying her books as she crossed the threshold of Columbia University – the same school where Harry graduated his secondary education – or even as she walked across the hallowed halls of Harvard or Yale.
In fact, Hermione was so engrossed in imagining what it would feel like when that time finally comes – and she knew that that time would come, she was not sure exactly when she had reached her decision last night, but that she had made the decision to accept the offer of Lily Potter was a given – that she failed to see the malevolent look that was so obvious on the faces of her junior classmates as they espied her walking into the hall.
At the head of a make-shift contingent of young girls was a red-haired lass who looked at Hermione as she walked into the hall with undisguised contempt written on her face. Ginevra Weasley – more commonly known to everyone at the school as Ginny – may have been punished once for a failed attempt at humiliating Hermione, but like most of her red-haired family, she was not one to give up after one – or actually, a hundred or even a thousand – setback.
It was precisely for the reason of humiliating the brunette Gryffindor who stands at the head of her year that Ginny had gathered the horde that was gathered around her, watching with obviously malicious intentions every move that Hermione made and will make as she walked into the Great Hall.
Ginny led her contingent into the Great Hall the moment that Hermione entered, and just as Hermione had not noticed her group as they watched her with malevolent eyes, Ginny and her group failed to notice that another group was watching them, but unlike Ginny and her group, the group that was watching them only had confused expressions on their faces as they had no idea what the red-head has planned. Unfortunately for Harry – who was leading the third group – he missed the malevolent look that Ginny and her group was giving an unaware Hermione.
There was no doubt that if he had seen, Harry would already be doing something about it rather than just standing there and staring at what he was sure was not something that occurs inside the school in an everyday basis with nothing but a confused look on his face. Beside him, his fellow cadets also had no idea what was happening, and the same bewildered look that was on the face of Harry was more obvious on their own faces.
Hermione was about to take her seat at her usual place – it was not that her classmates and housemates would stand and move away from her when she is about to seat, it was just that Hermione found that most people would rather steer away from her – at the end of the table when something happened.
Before the fifth year Gryffindor could take her seat, she was distracted by someone shouting from the direction where she came from. Despite herself, Hermione spun on her heel so that she may turn her attention toward the direction where the sound came from with the intention of investigating what – or who – was making that racket. It was only her reflexes – honed by her recent sessions with Harry – that allowed her to duck just in time as a spell sallied over her head. Had she not ducked, Hermione knew that she would have been hit by that spell, and it chilled her because she did not know what the spell that was sent was.
It also chilled the young Gryffindor because in the five years that she had been at this school, this was the first time that someone sent a spell spiraling directly at her, and with her as the deliberate target. She may have been the target of pranks and bullying before, but no one was vindictive – or stupid – enough to attack her in the Great Hall in the middle of breakfast.
It took Hermione close to five seconds before she had her wand in her hand – an action that caused Hermione to admonish herself, not because she had her wand in her hand, but rather, because it took her that long – and as soon as Hermione had her wand, she pointed it toward the direction where the spell came from with the intention of shooting back.
What she was, however, made her pause.
Harry was already in her line of sight, but he was not facing her, rather, it was clear that the leader of the naval cadets had his attention focused on a petite red-haired girl who was shaking at her feet. That Harry could be this intimidating was not something that Hermione had considered before, yet the evidence was clearly in her eyes. It was happening in front of her.
Before Hermione could say anything, however, the words that echoed around the hall made her pause, first, because it did not came from Harry, rather, it came from Ginny, and second, because the words that came out of the mouth of the red-haired menace clearly showed that she did not think she did anything wrong despite the fact that it was obvious that Ginny was the one who fired the spell.
'It's always her,' Hermione thought to herself, but she dare not voice that out loud because she wanted to listen.
"Harry, dearest," Ginny began, and that overly sweet tone that Ginny had used to speak with Harry nearly made Hermione gag – nearly. The truth was, the moment that Hermione heard the overly sweet tone that Ginny had used, she gripped her wand tighter as she subconsciously muttered under her breath the most painful prank curses that she could think of using against Ginny as soon as Harry was out of the way.
The next actions of Harry caused Hermione to stop what she was doing as she – and the rest of the school including those who were with the group that Ginny had gathered for this occasion – could only stare as Harry meticulously removed the glove that he was wearing on his right hand – which he always takes off whenever he is going to hold the hand of Hermione – before he raised his right hand.
Hermione would have yelled at Harry to stop because she realized what he was about to do before anyone else in the hall could, but there was also a part of Hermione that relished the fact that the red-haired princess was about to get her comeuppance.
The slap was loud as it was strong. Ginny, however, remained at her feet, though she was forced to turn her head in response to the actions of Harry.
For a few moments, the sound of the slap echoed around the hall as no one dared to open their mouth and could only stare at the act that had just happened in silence. Normal service resumed slowly as one by one the students and the teaching staff who had witnessed the event remembered themselves and their stations.
Ron Weasley was one of the first few students that shot to their feet in reaction to the event, but that was not surprising. After all, this was her sister that got slapped in the face. The freckled-faced red-haired youth had his wand in his hand and was about to point it at Harry, a curse already on the tip of his tongue when he paused at the sight of a wand pointed right between his eyes at a distance of five feet, a wand held in place by Cadet Edward Brooke who looked ready to take any excuse that he could take to fire a curse.
The usually jovial Weasley twins – Frederick, commonly known as Fred, and George – were not as quick on the uptake as their youngest brother, though there are those who would later claim that Fred and George refused to move because they thought that their sister deserved it, and as further evidence of that claim, they point out to what the twins did next, which was nothing.
"Ha…Harry," Ginny began as she unconsciously touched her still red face. There were tears forming on her eyes, but Harry stared back at her with his emerald-green eyes as hard as a diamond.
It was clear that Ginny was hurt by the fact that Harry had slapped her and by the fact that Harry was staring at her with such a cold expression. All the hurt that Ginny felt, however, could not compare to the next words that came out of the mouth of Harry, "Attacking a woman with her back turned is despicable," he said, "that this is the second time that you did this in less than a month makes it even more so."
It was at this point that the professors finally decided to intervene. Privately, Professor McGonagall thought that Harry had the right of it, but she still could not afford to be seen as not caring. The Deputy Headmistress made a move to confront the two parties, but before she could take her second step, the loud voice of Ron made everyone in the hall pause once more.
"Potter!" the red-haired boy shouted at the top of his lungs as he did a very good job of ignoring the fact that he was staring at the business end of the wand of the partner of the man that he intended to challenge, "I challenge you to a duel!"
Harry – as did the rest of his fellow cadets – blinked in surprise at the challenge, but before anyone of them could say anything, Ron continued, "A wizards duel, wands only, no contact, for the insult that you had inflicted on my sister."
"Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, his voice cold, but calm, deliberate, and well trained, the voice of someone who had been born into nobility and who had been raised to expect that everything that they said would be done, "Your sister insulted Ms. Granger first, I am defending the honor of this most exceptional young woman whom you had asked to accompany you on a date just yesterday, you should be at my side at this, rather than against it."
Ron obviously ignored the words that came out from the mouth of Harry, "I chose Fred to be my second," he announced.
"Leave George and me out of this," one of the twins – presumably Fred – shouted in automatic response, "He's right, Ginny could have killed Hermione with that spell that she fired."
Ron looked apoplectic that his brothers would not join him to defend their sister, but before he could say anything, Harry returned into the conversation, "Very well," he declared, nodding toward the direction of Ron and silently instructing Edward to lower her hand, an instruction that the other cadet - reluctantly – followed, "Let us have that duel."
"Mr. Potter!" Minerva shouted. She wanted to remind the young lad that he was not of age, and neither is the boy who had challenged him.
"Deputy Headmistress, it is Mr. Weasley who made the challenge," Harry defended himself, "He had waived his defense of minority, and as a condition of my entry into the naval academy, I am an emancipated minor."
Before anyone could say anything, he turned his back toward a thoroughly broken Ginny and made his way to Hermione who was still seated on the floor.
Harry offered his hand to her, and she gave him a grateful smile as she accepted. Harry helped her to her feet before he gently led her out of the Great Hall and – presumably – toward the Hospital Wing.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness
Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia
October 22, 1995
Albus Dumbledore was fuming, no, scratch that, Albus Dumbledore was mad, and when the Headmaster of Hogwarts and self-declared Leader of the Light was mad, it does not bode well for those who are inside the room with him.
It was not that the Headmaster was prone to cursing the first person that his gaze fell into, it was more a discomfort brought about by the fact that the Headmaster was barely controlling his temper and as a result of this bare control, his magic was leaking out of him slowly.
The reason for the anger that the Headmaster was feeling at that moment was the fact that a duel had been set in his school, and he does not even know that it had happened until after the fact. Even worst, his Deputy Headmistress had allowed the duel to happen without even consulting him, and the only reason that the Headmistress was not the target of the full ire of the Headmaster was the fact that Minerva could more than take care of herself, and had actually forced the Headmaster to back down as she stared at him after the first dressing down.
Inside the office of the Headmaster, the senior staff – as did most other members of the staff – of Hogwarts were seated. Albus Dumbledore was on his feet but had not left his position of authority behind his desk as he surveyed the almost neutral expression – with Minerva being the exemption, but that was not surprising – on the faces of his teachers. The Headmaster had to admit that he would have thought that the professors would be more up in arms about this thing, and it surprised him that he had read the people that he had been working with for a long time that wrongly.
In fact, the portraits of the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts were louder than the living, and most of the portraits are shouting as they tried to make their opinions known. The loudest of the bunch was, of course, Phineas Nigellus, the man who had earned – quite fairly so – the title of 'worst Headmaster of Hogwarts'.
The patriarch of the Black Family – and because of that, he was the patriarch of most of the pureblood families in the British Isles on both sides of the light-dark divide – was screaming his lungs out how Harry and the muggle government was disrespecting magic and was openly advocating for open war with them before his predecessor reminded him that Phineas was Headmaster back when the muggles were still using coal as their primary source of energy. Much has changed since he last took his breath.
"Headmaster," the silky voice of Severus Snape tore Albus from the reverie that he fell into as he tried to come up with a solution that would get him out of the mess that Ronald Weasley had placed him in, because, whether the staff realized it or not, should something happen to Harry Potter, then it would all be their necks on the noose.
Of course, that does not mean that they could allow something to happen to Ron. Molly Weasley – mother of Ronald Weasley – was a formidable opponent on her own when it comes to defending her children, and though Albus was sure that he could best the woman, the Headmaster would rather not divide the light side – of which the Weasleys are big supporters – of the great divide.
"I fail to see any reason why we should be concerned about this," Severus continued the moment that the Headmaster had turned his attention toward the Head of Slytherin House. Albus knew that the man had it easy, as for him, he was in a win-win situation.
Should Harry be harmed in the coming duel, Severus would celebrate as that would mean harm to the son of his great rival James, even if the boy is the son of the lost love of the potions master. In fact, the fact that Harry is the son of her mother would probably cause the sour-faced man to celebrate harder. After all, to Severus, Harry represented everything that he had lost when Lily chose James.
Should Ronald Weasley be harmed in the coming duel, the head of Slytherin would still be celebrating. The Headmaster knew how much Severus hated the boy – and this hatred was brought about not only by the fact that Ron was in Gryffindor and was a Weasley, but also by the fact that Ron is unmotivated in his studies, something that Severus hated with a passion – and any harm done to the 'weasel' as the professor called Ron in private would be a cause for celebration for the man.
How different the reaction of the head of Slytherin house would be if it was one of his snakes who are in danger of not only losing his head, but that of his entire family as well. Of course, Albus doubted that things would turn this serious if one of the Slytherins had been involved in something like this, those snakes never put a toe out of line without the backing of their head of house and – usually – without the head snake to back them up should something go wrong.
"It is obvious to me, Headmaster," Severus continued in his oily voice, once more forcing the Headmaster out of his reverie, though Albus did make a mental note that he now understands why most of the students want to smack the potions master in the face whenever he would speak, "who the winner of the duel would be."
Before anyone could ask the potions master who would be the winner and how he knew, the Slytherin Head of House continued, "Potter had never been to magical school, as incompetent and as stupid as Weasley is, even he could surely best a lad who had not had even the most basic of formal schooling."
The way that Snape said that irked Minerva, but the Deputy held her piece, realizing that there was no need to inform the man that Harry had gone to formal schooling, and if the scuttlebutt that she had heard was true, the Potter heir actually had more formal schooling than the head of Slytherin, but there was no way that she was going to say that, even if it was one of her lions who was in danger of losing his head.
In any case, this was the fault of the two youngest Weasleys. Ginny should not have tried – again – to harm Hermione and Ron should not have jumped into asking Harry into a duel at the very first instance. With a mental sigh, the Deputy Headmistress told herself that her students had made their bed, now they better lie in it on their own.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness
Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia
October 22, 1995
Harry stood at attention at the head of his contingent of naval cadets as their commanding officer paced back and forth in front of them, a briefing stick in his left hand and was doubling as some sort of crutch despite the fact that it was obvious that right now, Brigadier General Winston Arnott wanted to use that stick to smack Harry and his classmates in the face for getting into a situation that – in the opinion of the commander of 'C' Brigade – they should have avoided.
Aware that there was nothing that could be done about it anymore, the Brigadier General had realized that no matter how much he smacked the cadets in the face and no matter how much he screamed at them, the duel would happen.
That did not stop the Brigadier General from tearing Harry and his classmates a new one, however, and that was exactly what the commander of 'C' Brigade did.
General Arnott stopped his pacing and turned his entire body toward the direction of Harry – who, despite the fact that he cringed, kept his attention – before he asked, "Tell me again why I should not order you and your classmates back to HMS Britannia?"
Harry cringed once more – and the commander of 'C' Brigade noted that – but that had more to do with the threat of being sent back to HMS Britannia – the formal name of the Imperial Naval Academy – than the body language of the commander of 'C' Brigade.
"Sir," Harry began in a calm and collected voice, though even he had to admit that he was having a problem keeping his voice calm and collected, "I was defending the honor of the niece of Rear Admiral Granger."
Brigadier General Arnott did not outwardly react, but even he had to admit that Harry had a point there. There was no way that the commander of 'C' Brigade could chew Harry out for that, especially since it had been confirmed that the girl was the target of a deadly curse. In fact, had Harry not accepted the challenge to a duel, not only would General Arnott not be here chewing Harry and his classmates a new one, he would be at his temporary headquarters and would be writing a commendation for the young cadet.
Unfortunately, Harry went above and beyond the call of duty and did something that he was not supposed to do, expose himself and his capabilities to people who may or may not be hostile. Despite the fact that such violation had not happened yet, it was obvious that it would when the duel finally gets underway.
"Do you realize what you had done, Cadet?" the general asked, "Which order that the Prince himself had given you and me that you had violated?"
Harry cringed, and this time, he did not bother to hide his action from his commanding officer. It was only at this juncture that he realized the concern of his commandant and he realized that he had been foolish at ignoring that, "The Prince had ordered us to refrain from showing the students of Hogwarts what we are capable of," he said, horror makings its way up to his face as he finally realized the implications of the duel.
"Are you even sure that this was not just an attempt to get you and your classmates to expose yourselves?" the general continued, "For all we know, this was something that was set up by the Headmaster."
Unfortunately, Harry could not give an answer to that, even if he realized – albeit belatedly – that the general had presented a good question. It was possible that this was just an attempt to get him and his classmates to demonstrate what they are truly capable of, but at the same time, Harry knew that there was no way that they could back out from this duel. The challenge had been given and the challenge had been accepted.
Harry knew that he had to convince his commander and when the next words came out of his mouth, that was already what he was doing, "Sir," Harry began, "the duel…"
Brigadier General Arnott cut him off, "I know that you cannot – and would not – back out of the fight now that it has been declared," he said, raising his hand to forestall anything that Harry was about to say at the same time that he turned his gaze away from the boy, "and I know that it would be useless, stupid, and criminal to order you to limit your output when you are out there fighting for your life, as I understand these duels, but you had overexposed yourself," he shook his head at the same time that Harry mustered himself back into attention.
"I would be writing a report and I am afraid that I would have to recommend that it be appended to your official service record, Cadet," Brigadier General Arnott said, he waved his hand in a 'go-away' motion before he said, "Dismissed."
Harry saluted the commander of the 'C' Brigade at the same time that his classmates did, but just as Harry was about to leave the command tent, the general suddenly said, "For what it is worth, Cadet, good luck."
Momentarily taken aback, Harry blinked before he nodded and offered another salute toward the direction of his commanding officer, "Thank you, sir," he replied.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness
Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia
October 22, 1995
Hermione was not sure when was the last time that she stayed up late with her dorm mates to discuss things. The young girl could remember when the last time that she stayed up late was, but that last time was just her, and it was just to study.
As she sat Indian-style at the surface of her mattress inside her four-poster bed, Hermione Granger could only stare as her dorm-mates chatted with each other as if they have no care in the world, completely forgetting the fact that at least one person may die tomorrow, and odds are, the person who would be dead tomorrow was not only their class mate, but also their housemate.
Parvarti Patil – the dark-skinned beauty from India who had emigrated to Britain way before she was born – and Lavender Brown – the girl every guy in her year has a crush on – chatted as if that was the only thing that mattered in the world. Normally, Hermione would ignore them as she would focus her attention at whatever book that she was reading and preparing for class the next morning, but the topic of the conversation between the two students right now was not something that Hermione could just ignore.
After all, the topic of the conversation between the two students who had – perhaps rightfully so – earned the moniker of gossip queen was Hermione and her – in the words of the two Gryffindors – 'knight in shining armor', Harry Potter.
It had started on innocently enough with Parvarti commenting to Hermione how fast Harry jumped to her defense, and even going so far as to initiate a duel to protect her, but even before Hermione could reply, Lavender had taken the banner, and the conversation took off from there.
Hermione could only stare as the two girls regaled her with tales of damsels in distress – although Hermione was somewhat mollified when the two admitted that Hermione would never fit in that category – and white knights in the magical world, and Hermione had to admit that for a few moments, she found herself lost in those tales.
The words that next came out from Lavender, however, tore Hermione out of her reverie, "So, Hermione," the sly girl asked in a tone that should have warned Hermione that she was planning something, but Hermione was so into the last story that the blonde had narrated that most of her indicators were turned off as she tried to use them to feel more of the story, "What do you feel about your knight in shining armor?"
"Huh?" Hermione asked as she was forced out of her reverie. There was a confused look on the face of the young woman, and it was a look that was so out of place in her face that it did not look good.
Before Hermione could even think of a response, however, Parvarti jumped into the fray once more. The words that came out of Lavender confused Hermione, but the words that came out of Parvarti shocked Hermione straight into muteness, "Do you love him?" the other half of the gossip queen asked.
Hermione paused as she tried to understand the front and end of the question. Did she love Harry? She does not know the answer to that yet, but what she knew is that she is extremely fond of the naval cadet who waltzed into her life. Perhaps, someday, that fondness would turn into something else, or perhaps it would just fade away, what Hermione was sure as she continued to stare at her housemates and see something that only she could see was only that it would hurt when the time came for Harry to leave, and she fervently hopes that when that time comes, she would follow him.
She was about to tell Parvarti and Lavender about the offer and the fact that she was going to accept it when a sound echoed from outside their dorms. This late in the evening, the sound was unusual, and because of that, the three girls turned their attention toward the direction of the sound, just in time for them to duck as a green spell sallied forth from the dark corner and toward the ceiling of the Gryffindor fifth year girls dormitory, barely missing Hermione who quickly jumped from the surface of her bed and found herself on the floor, her wand at her hand.
Lavender and Parvarti were slower on the uptake – the latter more than the former – but within a minute of the spell being fired, the three girls were crouching behind their beds, their wands at the ready, just as more spell fire sallied into their dorm.
Hermione turned toward her dorm mates with an incredulous expression on her face, an expression that was mirrored on the face of both Parvarti and Lavender as the three realized that war – or at least a skirmish – was upon them, and it was clear who was on the other side of the firing line.