A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.
TWELVE
Camp Infirmary, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles
October 23, 1995
Hermione could hardly hide her trepidation as she watched with a carefully controlled – and she knew that her control was fast slipping – expression on her face. Just a few feet away from her, Harry stood at full attention as he listened to his immediate commanding officer. From the fact that no voices were being raised, Hermione knew that Harry was not in trouble, or at least, not as seriously, but the fact that Brigadier General Arnott had to personally summon Harry, and for the general to speak with Harry inside the infirmary in the first place, Hermione knew that there was something wrong.
Hermione shook her head at that. She forced herself to turn her attention away from Harry and toward the figure that was lying on the bed. If not for the steadily beeping monitors that were connected, Hermione would have claimed that Cadet Edward Brooke was already dead. For some reason, his breathing was shallow and there were fears that something had happened to the young man that Harry had not included in his report.
Unfortunately for Hermione, while she knew that there was an official report that Harry had already passed to his immediate superiors, she does not know the contents of the same. Aware that whatever was written on those white pages was to be considered classified information, Hermione had not even bothered to beg Harry to tell her right after she had joined him for what was supposed to be their routine afternoon talks. It was not later after Harry had given her the summary – minus the classified points, Hermione knew – that the commander of 'C' Brigade arrived in the tent.
That was nearly fifteen minutes ago, and though the fact that there were no raised voices was of comfort to Hermione, it was scant comfort. She longed to join Harry and hear what was going on, but Hermione also knew that that would not be allowed. Worst, she knew that that would be problematic not only for Harry but also for her uncle given that she was not even supposed to be here. The only reason that she was not being called for it was because everyone knew that she is the niece of Rear Admiral Granger.
Hermione closed her eyes at that, she dare not imagine what would happen to the young man in front of him, or how what would happen to Edward would affect Harry. She felt a sharp pain in her chest as she thought about how this would affect Harry, and at almost the same time, she felt bad because she was more worried about how this incident would affect Harry than she is about Edward who might actually die because of what Harry did.
It made sense though, to Hermione. After all, while Edward is Harry's best friend, it was not as if he had been close to Hermione. In fact – and here, her brows furrowed – Hermione could remember that the first time that she met Edward, the young cadet had pulled Harry away from her with a lame excuse that Harry had told her was not true. In fact, Edward himself had implied admitted that.
The sound of boots clicking tore Hermione out of her reverie. For a few moments, she thought about turning her attention toward the direction of Harry, just to check if it was Harry who did that, but at the same time, she realized that she is in the middle of a military camp. Boots clicking is nothing out of the ordinary at this place. Still, she did turn her attention toward the direction of Harry a few moments later, reasoning that she really does not need any excuse in order to turn her attention toward that direction.
She turned her attention toward the direction of Harry at the same time that Brigadier General Arnott returned the salute of Harry. The big general gave Harry a nod before he turned his back to Harry and started to walk away from the tent. Harry kept at attention for a good three seconds after the general had left the tent before he allowed himself to visibly relax, actually deflating with his shoulders sagging.
By the time that Harry had turned his attention toward Hermione, though, he had brought himself back to his full height. There was still a worried expression on the face of Harry, though, but that was something that he tried to hide – something that was not quite successful – as he turned to look at Hermione. In fact, he tried a tentative smile when he looked at her, but Hermione easily saw through the illusion.
It was probably the worried look on the face of Hermione that convinced Harry that he was not doing a thorough job of keeping the worry on his face and that he should not even bother.
No words were exchanged between the two of them as Harry closed the distance. No words were exchanged between them as they both took their seats near the bedside of the still unconscious Edward Brooke, and the fact that no words were exchanged between them for a good ten seconds after they were both seated rankled Hermione.
She placed her hand over his, and he turned his attention toward her with a questioning expression on his face. Hermione just shook her head, warning him against opening his mouth and saying something. He looked confused for a few moments, but then he nodded and acquiesced to her silent request.
For a few moments, the only sound inside the tent was the steady beeping sounds of the machines connected to Edward, but after a few moments, Hermione broke that monotone silence when she turned her attention toward Harry and asked, "That bad?"
Harry actually smiled – and this time, there was nothing forced in his smile – before he shook his head at the same time that he replied, "Not really, he understood why I did what I did."
Hermione knew what Harry had done. The fact that he stunned his partner was not classified, but the reason behind the action of Harry was. Not for the first time since she had arrived, she wished Harry would just tell her, but she reminded herself that he could not tell her, not without consequences.
"We've completed our mission," Harry suddenly said. This prompted Hermione to turn her attention toward him, and she did not even bother to look surprised, but before she could say anything, Harry continued, "I cannot tell you what the mission is, but I could tell you that we had completed it," he paused for a few moments, but again, he did not give Hermione a chance to say anything before he continued, "I expect orders as early as tonight."
"Orders to return home?" Hermione asked in a small voice. She hated to admit it – or at least, she knew that she should have hated to admit it, but this was Harry that she was talking with – but she was suddenly afraid. Afraid of what might happen now that Harry is leaving was a part of it, she knew, but the greatest fear that she had at that moment was the fear that she would not be able to see Harry again.
Hermione mentally shook her head. She knew that that was impossible. Aside from the fact that Harry had basically placed her under his family protection – and she had read up on that after the talk that she and Harry had so that she could fill the blanks – she had been offered a chance to go to the mainland and study there. It was an opportunity that she planned on taking, but now, doubly so because Harry might, by this time tomorrow, be on his way back to the mainland.
Still, even with all of these assurances under her, Hermione still could not help but be scared, and apparently, Harry realized that, because the next thing that the young cadet did – and without any outward prompting from Hermione – was to pull Hermione closer to him, engulfing her into a loose sideward hug that somehow seemed to lessen the fears that Hermione felt at that moment.
Of course, the fear was still there, but the actions of Harry did much to lessen them. The next words that came out of his mouth also helped, "Even if I am not here, I would still protect you," he promised her.
"Harry?" Hermione tentatively asked. She did not doubt that. He was not her first friend, but he was the first one to go out of his way – even against his way, she knew that he had gotten into trouble, with his friends at least, when he first met her – to be with her. Taking that into consideration, Hermione easily convinced herself that he would find a way to be with her.
"My family is not the most powerful family in the Empire, Hermione," Harry began, "but Lord Alexander and the York Family are our liege lords, they are the most powerful family in the Empire, the family that sits on the Golden Throne of the Holy Empire of Britannia."
"Lord Alexander cares about his vassals like no other lord that I have read or heard about," Harry continued, "No one would be stupid enough to risk angering the Duke by attacking the people that are under his protection."
"Is that the reason that you placed me under the protection of your family, Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked. It was a trick question, she knew, and the young student also knew that asking Harry that question at that point in time was unfair to the young naval cadet, but at that moment, Hermione could not stop herself from asking that.
She wanted to know what she meant to Harry. Was she someone that he could just leave behind despite the obvious affection that they have for each other? Or was it all a sham, an illusion that would soon be shattered when he finally leaves? She prayed desperately that it was the latter despite all the assurances that she had given herself expressly, and despite his implied assurance.
Harry shook his head, "No, that's not the reason," he replied, he gently pushed himself away from Hermione, taking care not to alarm her with the sudden lost of contact between the two of them.
Hermione turned her head toward the direction of Harry just as he pulled away from her, but at that last moment, Harry stopped and before Hermione could say anything, Harry quickly said, "I want to protect you, Hermione," he shook his head and continued with more fervor in his voice, "I need to protect you, Hermione, just because of that, because I need you," he shook his head and added with a rueful smile, "I was number one in my class when I finished my primary education, and I am number one in my year in the Academy, I have always been a good – probably the best – student that my instructors and teachers had ever seen, but for all that accomplishments and accolades, I could not find the words that would accurately describe what I am feeling right now."
Hermione thought that that was the right moment for her to interrupt him, but once more, before she could say anything, Harry stopped her, though this time, he did it not by once more saying something, he did it by gently placing his right index finger over her lips.
Hermione paused at that, and for a few moments, silence once more descended between the two young students within the medical tent, the only sound being the steady beeping rhythm of the machines that continue to monitor the heartbeat of the patient.
"I've never felt anything like this before," Harry admitted a few moments later as he gently removed his finger from over the lips of Hermione. It was novel for Harry, to admit his feelings. He has had girlfriends before, some of them even serious – or at least, as serious as a young man of his age could be when he thinks of those things – but he was not lying when he told Hermione that he had never felt anything like what he is feeling for her before.
Hermione reacted to his action by pushing his head forward, an attempt to keep his fingers on her lips, but she noticed this right away and stopped herself after she had moved only a miniscule distance.
Hermione decided not to say anything after that, she merely stared at Harry, dreading and hoping at the same time, what his next words would be. Unfortunately, Harry seemed to have clamped down after the last words that he had spoken, prompting Hermione to be the one to say something, "Neither do I," she admitted.
Like Harry, Hermione did not lie when she said that, but that was not surprising considering her history in the school. She had never had a single romantic relationship since the day that she was born aside from the typical schoolgirl crushes.
"Do you think…?" Harry began. He turned his attention toward her, and unconsciously, he moved his head forward so that the mutual distance between his lips and hers steadily declined.
"I would think so," Hermione replied, a slight giggle on her lips as she said that, and like Harry she also moved her head toward him, her miniscule movements adding to the closure rate of a collision course of their lips.
If the two students were honest, they would say that they both anticipated this even if they did not even think that this was going to happen today when they woke up this morning. Both of them, though, knew how to seize the moment, and at that moment, Harry and Hermione truly seized the moment.
There were no words that followed after that, but that was hardly surprising, because a fraction of a second later, their lips met in a soft collision, and the two young students, for the first time in their lives, shared a kiss.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles
October 23, 1995
"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Severus Snape asked as he stepped through the door of the office of the Headmaster. The potions master of Hogwarts was not surprised to see that he was alone in the rather cavernous interior of the office of the Headmaster, he knew that since the day that he had switched sides and became a spy for the light side, there would be times that he and the Headmaster would have to meet away from the prying eyes and ears of even the most trusted members of the Order of the Phoenix – or the staff of Hogwarts for that matter.
Truthfully, it was not something that was overly burdensome for the surly potions master, he preferred to be alone most of the times anyway, but for a split second, he wondered how things would be different had he not defected during that critical time of the first war.
With a mental scowl, however, the potions master reminded himself that preventing that dark and bleak outlook was exactly the reason that he had defected in the first place. Severus knew that if he had not defected during that time, the Potter family would be dead and while the potions master of Hogwarts could care less about James and Harry Potter, he could not let Lily Potter die
Still, the potions master knew that if he had not defected, then the situation they are in right now – concerning the small army that was encamped just a stone's throw away from the school – would be drastically different. The Dark Lord would not have allowed muggles this close to the school, but it would not have mattered.
If the Dark Lord had won that first phase of the war, Severus understood that there would be no magical world to speak of today, at least, not in the British Isles. The potions master of Hogwarts knew that the muggles would not have second-guessed themselves, they would have attacked, and as powerful as the Dark Lord was and his Inner Circle – and even if the racist in him does not want to admit it – Severus knew that they could not stand against the full might of the Holy Empire.
The voice of the Headmaster calling for his attention tore the potions master out of his self-imposed reverie, "Yes, Severus, my boy, I had," the Headmaster said.
The potions master forced himself to return to the present, and he turned his full attention toward the man who had received his surrender and who had – in exchange for saving the life of his childhood friend and unrequited love – forced him to become a spy.
"I am here, Headmaster," Severus replied.
For a few moments, the Headmaster merely stared at him, as if he was trying to explain within his mind what the young man in front of him meant when he said that, but the Headmaster also knew that the mental shields of Severus Snape are as strong as his own, if not more so. It was required with his job as a spy for him to have powerful mental shields so that his loyalty could not be questioned by the other side.
Of course, that did not do anything to decrease the hostility that the members of the Order have for him, those same mental shields that protect him from being discovered by the dark side as a spy prevents the members of the Order from seeing his motivation or reading his mind. It was truly an isolated position that the potions master of Hogwarts had taken.
Albus knew that it was not helped by the fact that the potions master went out of his way to antagonize everyone that he had ever met in his life. The Headmaster was sure that the potions master actually antagonized the Dark Lord as well, and only his genius in potions making – unsurpassed by anyone that Albus had ever met despite the fact that Severus seems incapable of teaching his craft to anyone below seventh year – had saved him from getting gutted in front of Lord Voldemort.
The Headmaster of Hogwarts shook his head mentally and forced himself to return to the present. There would be a time for him to muse about the motivations of his potions master, "It seems to me that our guests had an emergency this morning," the Headmaster said, and to reply to the questioning look on the face of his potions master, he continued, "one of their cadets was supposed to have been carried out of the school in a stretcher by four of his colleagues."
"Good riddance, then," the potions master replied.
Albus fought the urge to sigh at the same time that he fought the urge to launch into a tirade against the racism that his potions master was showing. He did supposed that he should have expected it, after all, the man did join the racist group led by Lord Voldemort, but the Headmaster had truly hoped that Severus had grown up to at least control his mouth, even if it was just him inside the room. Sadly, that does not appear to be the case.
"It could prove to be a problem," the Headmaster continued, "After all, one of their cadets was apparently overcome while he was inside the school."
Severus quickly saw what the Headmaster was saying. He may be a racist fool, but he is still a genius and his logic is unsurpassed, at least, it is whenever he bothers to use it, which, sad to say, was not most of the time when he is dealing with students.
"They would claim that it is an attack," the potions master said, his voice so low, the Headmaster was, in addition to not being sure if it was meant for him, forced to lean in closer toward his potions master in order to hear what he was saying.
"Precisely," the Headmaster said, nodding his head in agreement with the words of his potions master, "We best be prepared should that happen, tell me, would we disappear from their faces should I invoke the severance?"
The pensive look on the face of Severus was quickly replaced by a look of horror, but he knew that he should answer the question, "Truthfully, I do not know," he replied, but before the Headmaster could say anything else, Severus quickly interjected, "Where did you get this information anyway, Headmaster, about the cadet? For all we know, it may be rumor, we may be preparing for something that would never happen."
The Headmaster actually managed to look regretful as he shook his head, "I am afraid that that is not the case, my boy," he said, he had a condescending look on his face as he added, "The information came from one of the ghosts who had the opportunity to watch as the young men carried their unconscious colleague out of the castle," he paused before he added, "They did take great pains to ensure that no one see them conduct their operation, and the ghost who made this report reported that it is likely that no other student had seen the operation being carried out."
Severus fought the urge to snarl at that. He knew that the ghost who had witnessed the incident was most likely not there by accident. More likely than not, the Headmaster sent the ghost to spy on the cadets, but that would beg the question of why the Headmaster would send ghosts in the first place, unless…
The potions master turned toward the Headmaster, "Potter?" he asked.
The Headmaster shook his head, "Fortunately not," he replied, and though he tried to hide the sigh of relief, Severus knew that it was coming so he was able to spot it. it was not that difficult to conclude that the Headmaster would be relieved that it was not the son of Lord James Potter. The man had incredible political power concentrated in his hands, and while Severus thinks little of the muggles, he knew that James could use the power in his hands to utterly crush Hogwarts, if not the entire British magical world.
"It was his partner, however," the Headmaster noted, "and it was young Mr. Potter – Cadet Potter – who led the operation," he shook his head and added, "Whatever it was that had overcome the other cadet, Cadet Potter was most likely in on it."
"Typical Potter," Severus snarled, his logic having already fled him at the mere mention of the name of the son of his childhood rival, "They make mistakes that have ramifications for all of us."
Albus fought the urge to ask Severus if the potions master believed that the fact that James chose to pay court to Lily was one of those mistakes that have ramifications for all of us that he was referring to, but decided not to. Not because it was inappropriate, but because the Headmaster already knew what the potions master would say. There was truly no need to ask for it.
"Nevertheless," the Headmaster said, forcing the conversation back to what they were supposed to be talking about, "We must prepare."
For a few moments, the potions master did not say anything, and while the Headmaster was sure that that was because the man was trying to look for a way that he could commit without really saying anything, the truth was, the potions master was, at that time, weighing his options. He truly wanted to humiliate James, even if it was only through his son, but in the end, his calm and precise logic returned with a force that made it difficult for the potions master to ignore it.
The consequences of the Headmaster breaking the Oath would not be worth the humiliation that he could pile on the lap of James Potter, not when it would appear that their whole world would suffer those consequences.
"Headmaster," Severus finally said a few moments later, he made sure to wait until the full attention of his superior was focused on him before Severus continued, "Once more, I will caution you against invoking the Oath at this juncture," and before the Headmaster could say anything else, he continued, "We do not have the manpower or the resources to fight against the Empire," he shook his head for emphasis and added, "While it is possible that we would disappear on their faces once that Oath is severed, you must remember that the muggles know where we are, if only because of the fact that they have magicals in their service."
"That is rather unfortunate," the Headmaster admitted, "but we do not need to challenge them in a conventional war," he shook his head in a grandfatherly fashion, attempting to show as much regret as he could, "much as it pains me, we would have to fight the type of war that Tom and the other dark lords of the past are known to favor."
"Even that would not work, Headmaster," the potions master replied, he was emphatic when he added, "We might not even survive the first night that we break that Oath,"
"You assured me that we could break the Oath," the Headmaster replied, fixing his potions master with a stare that would have melted stone.
Severus stood his ground firm, "I'm not talking about our magic killing us," he clarified, "I meant that when we break the Oath, those soldiers outside would not take things lying down."
A smile formed on the face of the Headmaster at that, and it was a smile that chilled the potions master of Hogwarts when he realized that it reminded him so much of the smiles of the dark lord, "We already have a plan in place to take care of the soldiers outside," he assured his potions master.
For some reason, that hurt the pride of the potions master. It confused the man for a few moments until he realized that the reason that his pride was hurt was because the Headmaster had chosen someone else to plan for that contingency, but after a few moments, he shook his head and told himself that it really does not matter.
Neither the fact that it was not him who planned the contingency nor the fact that he could not prevent the Headmaster from severing the Oath matter, because Severus knew that by this time tomorrow, the very tower that he now stood on could very well be gone, shot to pieces by those massive guns of the battleships that visited just a few weeks ago.
Fulton House
Rochester, New York, Holy Empire of Britannia Mainland
October 23, 1995
The incessant ringing of the phone was what woke the young man who, a few moments ago, was in a dream world of his own creation. It was unfortunate because he was in the middle of a dream that he would consider a good dream, but he also knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would not return to the exact same scenario that he had just left.
That does not say anything for the still incessant ringing of the phone that was on the surface of an end table at his side of the bed. Not for the time since he had placed that phone there – and since he was woken by it in the middle of the night – he wished that he had placed the telephone somewhere else, but he also knew that he placed that telephone there for a reason, and that reason was so that he could reach the phone easily.
With a sigh, Lord Alexander unconsciously rubbed his eyes in an effort to wake himself up. He also fought the urge to curse as he did so, the unusually loud rings of his bedside phone somehow shortening his temper as it continued to yell for his attention.
"Alright, already," the young Prince muttered under his breath. He had to stop himself from cursing out loud because he knew that the person who was lying down beside him on the surface of the bed was already asleep, and not for the first time, he wondered how in hell she could sleep through the racket that the phone was making.
Instead of turning his full attention toward the ringing phone, however, Lord Alexander turned his attention away from the phone. A small smile graced the facial features of the Duke even as the phone continued to scream for his attention. As he had expected, the young woman who was in the bed with him was still asleep.
Normally, that would mean that he would have free reign drawing stick figures on her back with his index finger, but just as the duke was about to do that, the phone yelled once more. This time, the Duke barely stopped himself from cursing before he turned his attention away from the sleeping figure of the woman who would someday become his wife.
He fixed the telephone a glare, but he also knew that the inanimate object would not even notice his glare, so at the next ring, he abruptly picked up the receiver of the phone and asked in an abrupt manner, "What?"
"My apologies, Your Grace," the voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar to the Prince of Scotland, but he knew that whoever it was on the other side, he was sure that he was in the middle of wishing that the duty of calling him in the middle of the night had fallen to someone else. The man on the other end, however, was a professional, "I have a," – there was a brief pause as the operator checked his papers – "Horace Baffin from the Ministry of the Interior for you sir."
Lord Alexander blinked at that. He has a lot of people who work for him so it was not expected for him to remember all of their names, but as far as he was concerned, he knew every person that he has working in that ministry, mostly because he had very few people in that ministry who answer to him.
This Horace Baffin was most certainly not one of them, but for the man to call him in the middle of the night – and for his on-duty supervisor to allow the call to proceed despite the lateness of the evening – certainly speaks of the urgency of the matter. The man could have waited for the morning, but he instead chose to interrupt him while he was sleeping.
Lord Alexander shook his head once then twice, before he focused his attention on the situation in front of him, "Let me speak with him," the Duke demanded in a gruff voice that nevertheless managed to sound neutral.
There was another brief pause as the operator connected the internal lines of the house with the external lines, and the Duke used that moment to sigh and to take stock of the place where he is in.
Fulton House was not the place where he had grown up, even if it was his official residence. The place that he had grown up was actually Olympia Academy, but that was on the west coast of the mainland, a good three day journey from where he is in right now. Still, Fulton House is his official residence because his father had designated the same as his official residence. Archduke Stephen had taken the necessary steps to ensure that the formalities are met, and though Lord Alexander is going to be Archduke after his father, Archduke Stephen would not jeopardize the succession by showing too much favor to his son.
"My Lord?" the voice on the other end of the line tore Lord Alexander out of his reverie. He forced himself to return to the present.
"Yes, I am here," he replied, he turned his attention toward the direction of Lady Emma and watched as she stirred slightly, but did not wake up.
"My Lord, I am sorry to bother you at this late hour, but we have a situation," the man at the other end replied, "Ministry of Interior sensors from within the British Isles have pinged a few hours ago, and we had confirmed that it was not a glitch."
'That explains why he is calling me,' Lord Alexander thought. The British Isles was his responsibility. Sure, he was Prince of just Scotland and Prince of Wales, but with no Archduke in England, he is the highest ranking noble in the British Isles.
There was something about the message that was delivered that does not make sense to the Duke, however, "What monitors?" he asked.
"My Lord, the magic detectors that were installed to monitor the Oath, of course," the man at the other end said. He sound bewildered when he said that, and Lord Alexander guessed that that was because the man had expected that the man in charge of the British Isles was aware of the existence of magical monitors that were placed specifically to monitor the actions of the magical minority in the Isles. Truth to tell, Lord Alexander was not even aware that it was possible for wards to be tied to the Oath, much less the fact that there are actually wards that was set up specifically to do that.
He would have to worry about that later, however, because the message that the man on the other end of the conversation had delivered was more important, once the implications behind the message was clear to Lord Alexander.
It meant that someone in the British Isles was planning – or perhaps, already had, but if that was the case, Lord Alexander was sure that it would not be some functionary from the Ministry of the Interior who would be waking him up, it would be his own staff – on severing the Oath.
'That also means that they found a way to sever the Oath,' the Duke smiled as he continued his thoughts, 'truth to tell, it was not that hard.'
"How large is the cataclysm?" Lord Alexander asked, he forced himself to return to the conversation on hand.
'The man had to be checking a report of some kind,' Lord Alexander though as there was a pause at the other end of the line once more, and the answer, when it came, was exactly as Lord Alexander had expected, "It's not a big event, My Lord," the man explained, "We believe that it is just an intent to sever, not an actual severance."
"Yet, this means that there is someone out there with an intent to sever," Lord Alexander quickly added, he was more than prepared to bet who that 'someone' is, but for the sake of appearance, he could not say that to a man that he had never even met, never mind a man whose loyalty he was not sure of. After a brief, pregnant, pause on the side of Lord Alexander, "Has the other appropriate and relevant agencies been informed?" he asked.
"Those that are cleared to know the existence of the office had been informed, My Lord," the man replied, and Lord Alexander fought the urge to ask if he is, in fact, one of those who had been cleared to know.
With a shrug, the Duke told himself that he must be one of those in the clear, else, why would this man be calling him to inform him of the situation.
"Very well," Lord Alexander said, his tone of voice already warning the man on the other end that he was already ready to end the conversation. The man on the other end was more than happy to follow, "Please continue to monitor the situation and warn me as soon as there is a change."
"Yes, My Lord," the man replied.
Lord Alexander replaced the receiver of the phone back to its rest position a few moments later. A sigh escaped from his lips as he turned his attention toward the young woman who was lying on the surface of the bed with him, and when he saw that not only was she awake, she was also staring at him with a hard expression, the only indication that he was surprised was his eyes widened for a few moments, but he was quick on the uptake and regained his neutral expression without any problem.
"Hogwarts is planning to rebel?" Lady Emma asked as she propped herself on the bed. She was wearing what she always wore to bed – a silky affair that left little to the imagination, but since this is her bed as well, that was to be expected – and Lord Alexander found it hard to concentrate, not when she asked that question with that neutral expression on her face, yet always seem to captivate him.
"It was not as if this was not expected," the Duke replied a few moments later, he tried to turn his attention away from the woman who would someday – and he hoped that that someday would be today – become his wife, but he was only successful in that endeavor after she resumed lying down on the bed, hiding her body underneath the heavy blankets, "The ball is now in their court, and we just need to see how they would play this matter."
Lady Emma shook her head, "He never strike me as the smart one," she replied, and before Lord Alexander could ask the question of who she was referring to, she added, "and that opinion is not limited to the Headmaster, I am afraid."
Lord Alexander agreed, "It does not matter, really," he replied as he returned to bed, "He is just playing into our hands."
Unbidden, the images of the heavy cruisers that he had patrolling along the east coast of Scotland flashed into his mind. Those ships would be of great use at the grounds of Hogwarts, but the Duke knew that he could not send them. The collateral damage that those things could do would not be worth their sending there, not when Lord Alexander had other goal in mind.
Lady Emma smiled at him, and he could not help but smile back, though before he could say anything, she quickly said, "This is the start, then," and though it was phrased like a question, there was no doubt that it was a statement.
Still, Lord Alexander could not help but agree with her, "This is the start," he said, and though it was hard for him to do so, the young Duke forced himself to remove his attention from the direction of the woman that he knew would someday be his wife. He did this so that he could focus his attention toward the direction of the verandah in their room, a verandah that faces in the general direction of the south, toward the general direction of the official residence of the Emperor of the Holy Empire, Pendragon.
More importantly, toward the direction of the Golden Throne of the Holy Empire of Britannia.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles
October 24, 1995
Although there were very few people were even aware of the contents of the orders that had arrived at the communications tent of the brigade that morning, there could be no doubt that everyone in camp was well aware that new orders had been received.
They knew this because they knew that without direct orders from the capital, their immediate superiors – Brigadier General Arnott and the three colonels who command each of the three battalions – could not have called the entire brigade into alert. There are even rumors that the three other direct combat units of the division – the last brigade, 'E' brigade is the attached artillery brigade of the division, making it a direct support unit – have already left their camps further south and are already moving north to reinforce 'C' Brigade.
The fact that very few were aware of the contents of the orders that had sent the brigade into alert had also caused the ordinary soldiers to create rumors between themselves as to the reason behind the mobilization. As the soldiers received additional magazines from the quartermasters, they speculated amongst themselves as to the reason behind the alert.
Rumors ranging from Hogwarts attempting to defect to intelligence receiving reports that Hogwarts was about to be invaded run rampant amongst the rank and file, not helped by the fact that the soldiers are running everywhere.
An earlier rumor that the British Isles had been invaded by the Prussian Empire was quick to bite the dust after the soldiers received instructions to build hasty fortifications around their camp. Obediently, soldiers began to mount heavy machineguns – taken from the cupolas of their service vehicles – all around their camp, because they were told to do so, an order that did nothing to thwart the growing rumors.
Of course, the reason that the general had ordered his men to mount defensive posts facing away from the castle was because he does not want to tip the enemy – and in the mind of General Arnott, Hogwarts, or at least the Headmaster and his loyal followers, are already the enemy – that he was already aware that they are about to betray the Empire, not until his defenses are complete anyway.
As they are not officially part of the brigade, Harry and his cadets have not received orders to report to the brigade quartermaster and take out rifles. Instead, the young heir to the Potter name and his classmates were ordered to report to the headquarters of Brigadier General Arnott and act as staff officers for the time being, thought that did not mean that they became privy to the reason behind the mobilization.
"Sir, 2nd Battalion reports that they have completed their trenches and that all of their company commanders have accounted for their men at the trenches," one of the permanent staff officers of Brigadier General Arnott said just as Harry entered the command tent. The young cadet could still remember the earlier instructions of the general to the colonel commanding that battalion. The 2nd was supposed to be the flying company of the brigade, the one that would assist either the 1st battalion or the 3rd battalion in their original missions, storm the castle or defend the castle.
The brigadier acknowledged the report of his staff before he turned toward Harry, just in time to watch as the young man saluted, "Sir," Harry reported, "Reporting as ordered."
General Arnott acknowledged the salute of Harry, but the older man did not even bother to return the salute. He was already operating on field rules, and according to the rules of the field, it was no longer allowed for subordinates to salute their superiors – just in case there is a sniper in the area.
"How is Cadet Brooke?" the general asked, though he made it clear with the tone of his voice that asking that question was not the reason that he asked for Harry.
"Still unconscious, sir," Harry replied, "the doctor reports that his vitals are improving though, so he should be out of any danger by now," he still felt miserable about what had happened to his partner, a feeling that was not helped by the fact that it was him who had stunned Edward.
Harry knew that his decision was the right one, but even the knowledge of that did not help lessen his guilt.
General Arnott gave a single nod to indicate that he heard the report of Harry. For a few moments, there was silence between the two as the commander of 'C' Brigade turned his attention toward his staff, as if he wanted to ask if there was a new report coming in, but at that moment there was none, so the general returned his attention toward Harry and gave him his instructions, "I need you and one of your classmates to check the walls of the school," the general said, "Don't let them see you."
Harry was not sure what to make of the order that he had been given. The young cadet knew that the mission was one of reconnaissance, but the fact that he had been ordered not to be seen left an aftertaste in his mouth as bad as the one that he had had after he stunned his partner. It does not make sense to him because the order that he had received, it was an order that he expected to be given to him at wartime.
'We're still at peace here, right?' Harry asked himself as he saluted his commander before he hurriedly left the command tent to find his classmates and chose one of them to accompany him for the reconnaissance work that he was about to do.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles
October 24, 1995
The movement at the camp was not one that was designed to be hidden from view. That was the reason that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was able to watch the developing chaos at the camp from the vantage point provided by his seventh floor office.
It did not make much sense to the Headmaster, the old man had to admit, but he somehow knew that the soldiers on the grounds of his school are scrambling because of something that he had done. He cannot fathom how they knew that he was about to break his ties with the Golden Throne, but at the same time, he assured himself that even if the soldiers knew, there was nothing that they could do about it.
The Headmaster actually chuckled as he assured himself that the soldiers would not even see his castle when he severs the Oath. For all the superior firepower of the three thousand men that were now gathered at his grounds could be, they could not shoot something that they could not see.
"Headmaster," the voice of his Deputy Headmistress tore the Headmaster out of his reverie. Fortunately for him, he had already stopped chuckling before Minerva McGonagall had placed her head in her fireplace to call him, it would do him no good if his subordinates were to see him chuckling for no apparent reason, his reputation would surely take a hit.
"Yes, Minerva," the Headmaster asked at the same moment that he spun on his heel so that he could face toward the direction of his fireplace, "How may I help you?"
Albus already knew what his deputy was going to say even before she said it, in fact, he already knew what she was going to say even before she struck her head at her fireplace, "Alastor and several others have just arrived via floo, Albus," she said, the confusion evident in her voice, "They are requesting to see you."
"Of course, Minerva, send them in please," the Headmaster said.
There was no confusion on the part of the Headmaster – unlike his Deputy Headmistress – over the arrival of the man that once led the combat arm – an arm that was not known to most members of the Order to have existed – of the Order of the Phoenix. That was because it was the Headmaster who had asked for him to come in the first place.
Minerva had also not mentioned who those others that are with Alastor are, but the Headmaster did not need her to. He was sure that Alastor had done exactly as he had asked and had gathered the members of his combat arm, despite the fact that the Headmaster had actually not told him anything regarding the reason that he had asked for them.
At the height of the war, the combat arm of the Order had around three hundred men and women within its ranks, not all of them – in fact, most of them – members of the Order. That made it easier for the combat arm to remain a secret to all but the most trusted – by the Headmaster – members of the Order. With the end of the war, the combat arm had tried to remain intact, but because most of the members loved fighting, the relative peace had not suited them and they tend to drift to places where their only talents – fighting – are always in demand.
It would have taken the Headmaster at least a month in order to get everyone back, and even then, he was not sure that he could get all of them, but the Headmaster was confident that the one hundred or so men and women members of his combat arm who are still within the British Isles would be more than enough for the coming battle.
A few moments later, the musings of the Headmaster was interrupted when he heard the familiar staccato rhythm of wood hitting wood. Alastor Moody had lost one of his legs during a duel against Lord Voldemort himself and had replaced it with a peg leg. Nowadays, everyone knew that he is coming because of the sound that it made.
"What the hell is this about, Albus?" Alastor asked as he approached his old friend. There would always be no exchange of pleasantries between the two men, they knew each other too well for that to be required.
The Headmaster of Hogwarts did not reply right away, instead, he turned his attention away from his friend and toward the other men who came up with Alastor. The size of his office meant that not every one of the one hundred men and women whom he expected could show his or her face, but he knew the captains of his combat arm, and all of the captains that he had expected to be here are here.
A slight smile crossed the features of the Headmaster at that. He had just finished gathering his forces at his fortress.