Daisy stared with trepidation at the large mountain of paperwork on her desk that had accumulated while she was gone. Much has changed in the war over the past few months. The German army had launched a massive invasion of the Soviet Union, opening up a new front. Also, Japan had attacked the American base at Pearl Harbor, bringing the United States into the war. Soon American troops would be arriving in Britain in large numbers. Daisy had begun to embark on the monumental tasks before her when Lydia provided her with a welcome distraction.

"So how did it go?" asked Lydia, as she eagerly leaned over the adjacent cubicle.

"Oh Lydia, it was amazing, there was breathtaking scenery, and we found all these artifacts I though only existed in myths…" Daisy said excitedly.

Lydia made a dismissive hand motion, "I know that Daisy, I read the reports, but how did it go with you and John?"

Daisy looked away with a slightly coy grin, "We had a nice time."

Lydia was persistent, "Daisy you're holding back on me, tell me everything, did you snog?"

Daisy blushed as she looked at the ground, "Well…sort of, errrr almost."

Lydia patted Daisy's shoulder as she took a sarcastic tone, "Well done Daisy, at this rate you too might get married before you're seventy."

Daisy shook her head, "Well we can't all be Lydia Baldwin, making puppy dog eyes at every bloke that moves."

Daisy leaned back seductively in her chair while she opened her eyes in an exaggerated manner. "Oh I'm Lydia, come save me I'm totally helpless."

Lydia bent over laughing, "Come off it Daisy, that is not what I look like at all." Lydia then laughed twice as hard when Daisy fell out of her chair in embarrassment when she noticed Albus Dumbledore entering the room.

"Good morning Dumbledore," said Daisy as she pulled herself up from the ground.

Dumbledore tipped his hat and nodded to them with his usual grin, "Good morning Daisy, Lydia."

It was then that Daisy noticed a serious looking girl a couple years younger than herself standing behind Dumbledore.

"How rude of me," Dumbledore realized, "I'd like to introduce you to Minerva McGonagall, she's going to be doing some work with us."

Daisy and Lydia warmly greeted Minerva before Dumbledore led her upstairs to the conference room. As they walked away, Daisy felt compelled to make an observation.

"I have to say, from what I've observed of the wizard world so far, as backwards as they are in certain areas like caring about your blood status or not using technology, they really have come a long way towards women's equality. I mean, look at Minerva, she's a little younger than us, right out of school, and she already has great responsibilities working alongside men. I really think our society could learn a lot from them."

Lydia applauded. "Ladies and gentlemen, Daisy Johnson, your next Prime Minister," she said approvingly.

Upstairs in the conference room, Evans folded up the morning newspaper after checking for updates on the war, the stock market, and most importantly, Everton Football Club. The empty room began to fill up as Bromhead walked in and claimed the adjacent seat.

"You won't believe who I ran into yesterday at the pub, Frank Bryce," Bromhead informed Evans.

"Old Frankie? What's he doing back here; I thought he was still in North Africa?" Evans asked inquisitively.

Bromhead explained, "Well the boys are starting to win some battles down there, but Frank got shot in the leg. They sent him home with a medical discharge, and you won't believe what he's doing now. He's working as a gardener at this old estate in Little Hangelton. "

Evans laughed heartily, trying to picture the gruff no-nonsense Sergeant Bryce working in a garden, and how much he must be grumbling about it. Dumbledore then walked into the room with McGonagall in tow, which turned a few heads.

"A five at best, and I'm being generous," MacDonald whispered to Reynolds.

Minerva scowled at him from across the room, as if she had heard every word of it. Finally, Elphias Doge and Alastair Thorndale entered the room and the meeting was ready to commence.

Thorndale adjusted his glasses as he rose to spoke, "Good morning, first of all I would like to congratulate all of you on the successful mission in Greece and on acquiring your new boat, which will I am sure will prove to be very useful. "

Doge spoke up to contribute, "Now that we will have access to most coastal regions there is a much wider range of missions we can accomplish within the occupied countries. The Ministry's Magical Intelligence Unit has been hard at work identifying potential sites of magical activity that may serve as targets, and I believe we have found our next mission."

Continuing their tag team approach to the meeting, Thorndale displayed a large black and white photograph at the head of the table, next to a detailed map. "This is the German naval base at Trondheim, Norway," he explained, "It's an important base for their submarines, and if the Ministry's information is correct it is also a base for Grindelwald's sea monsters, which have been devastating Allied shipping routes. This is a golden opportunity and, we will have a mission package prepared for you very soon. "

Doge continued, "As I'm sure you have heard, the German army had invaded the Soviet Union, and there have been high level of magical activities there as well."

Dumbledore spoke up, "If I know Grindelwald, he's going to be there. Eastern Europe is very important to him." Dumbledore paused; he was not yet prepared for a direct confrontation with Grindelwald, but perhaps right now he did not have to be. He concluded, "I believe our current strategy is sound. While Grindelwald is distracted in the East, we focus our energies on the Western Front, striking where his forces are vulnerable and never letting them rest."

Dumbledore looked around the room, confident in the courage and abilities of the team he had assembled. With a sly grin he announced, "It's time to set Europe ablaze."

Several hours before sunrise, MacDonald and Reynolds carefully snuck their way around the winding country road as they led their new companion, a cow they had requisitioned from a local farmer. It was long and frustrating progress as the cow was very reluctant to walk long distances. As the cow stopped walking, MacDonald threw his hands up in frustration, "What's going on? Why is it stopping?"

Reynolds laughed, "Well cows only do two things, eat and poo, and I'll give you a hint, it's not eating now."

MacDonald scowled, "That's disgusting! I knew this was a bad idea all along!"

"It was your idea you idiot!" Reynolds reminded him.

Eventually the cow finished its business and they were able to gently coax it to continue walking down the road. Amidst their bickering, there was one major issue MacDonald and Reynolds agreed on; that things had gotten too serious at Bletchley Park, and it was time for a major prank to shake things up. A cow on the roof might just be the perfect thing to do it.

Minerva arrived at the estate around sunrise, well before she was required to be there, but wanting to make a good first impression at her new job. She was not fully sure what she had gotten herself into, but what she did know was that she trusted Dumbledore and that opposing Grindelwald and his allies was the right thing to do. As she strolled through the grounds, she was alarmed to see something seemingly very much out of place. Although she was not fully versed in every Muggle custom, her intuition led her to believe that a cow being raised on a makeshift pulley was not supposed to happen.

Minerva paused; on the one hand, she was the youngest and newest member of the organization, and she did not want to make any waves. On the other hand, her role as a Gryffindor prefect had prepared her well for this type of situation. She had encountered all manner of dangerous pranks by young students, many not too different from this one. She had quashed many pranks and earned a reputation as a disciplinarian, but at the same time, she was always considered fair. As she debated the question in her mind, her instincts told her that she had to act.

Minerva walked up to the two young soldiers attempting to raise a cow on a pulley and demanded an explanation, "What is going on here?"

MacDonald looked at her, shocked and dismayed that they had been discovered. "We're just having a laugh, just because you have a permanent scowl doesn't mean we all have to," he said in an annoyed tone.

Minerva was slightly taken aback, "So stealing somebody's property and putting an animal in danger is having a laugh?"

MacDonald rolled his eyes at her, "Just sod off and leave us alone."

Minerva was flustered and momentarily forgot her surroundings, "Fifty points from Gryffindor," she huffed, before realizing her error.

MacDonald looked at her incredulously, "What the hell is a Gryffindor? Why don't you just stay in your magical wizard world and let us stay in ours?"

Minerva rolled her eyes, "Fine, but excuse me for expecting British soldiers to be professional."

MacDonald threw his arms up in disgust, "And that is why we don't allow women in the army, they meddle in everything!"

Deeply hurt, Minerva reached for her wand, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The very surprised MacDonald began to rise up and levitate in the air, protesting loudly, "What is this? Put me down!"

Reynolds rolled on the ground laughing hysterically at his friend's predicament. Minerva left Macdonald suspended in mid air until Dumbledore arrived on the scene and gave Minerva the type of stern reproaching look that only a seasoned educator can give, letting her know that he expected better. Regaining her senses, Minerva turned away as Macdonald hit the ground with a thud. She stormed off, greatly disappointed in herself for letting things escalate.

In a magically hidden office high above Moscow's Red Square, Vladimir Komissarov assessed the situation. His job as Russia's Minister of Magic was never going to be an easy one, and the current situation had not made it any easier. Throughout his time in office, Komissarov had maintained a tense but cordial relationship with Soviet dictator Josef Stalin. When the war broke out, they both agreed that it was wise to not oppose the Hitler/ Grindelwald alliance. But now, with the German army suddenly invading Russia, the situation had changed drastically. The Muggle nation was now at war, and many wizards were joining the conflict as well. However, Komissarov still insisted on maintaining a policy of official neutrality for the Ministry. The way he saw things, Grindelwald may not be that bad after all. So what if he wanted to oppress Muggles and the Muggle born? Were Komissarov's views really any different? He was certain that by remaining aloof from the conflict, a reasonable arrangement could be reached if and when Grindelwald finally came marching into Moscow.

Komissarov looked down at the meetings he had scheduled. Next on the list was Andrei Krum, the exiled Minister of Magic from Bulgaria, who was no doubt coming there to propose some sort of foolish alliance. Eager to get the meeting over with, Komissarov motioned to his secretary to escort the waiting Krum into his office.

Komissarov stood to offer a greeting as Krum walked inside, appearing very worn and ragged. He was one of the youngest Ministers of Magic in Europe, but he looked like the stress of the war had caused him to age at an unnatural rate. "Andrei, come in take a seat," Komissarov urged him.

Krum sat down and took off his fur hat. "I'm guessing you know why I'm here Vladimir. Grindelwald's forces have overrun and occupied my country. The rest of Eastern Europe is quickly going the same way. The Russians are our last hope, please we must work together."

Komissarov leaned back and stroked his beard, betraying no emotions. He certainly admired Krum's courage, being so willing to stand up to Grindelwald. But what good was courage if it got you killed? From Komissarov's vantage point, if accommodating Grindelwald meant staying alive, it was a trade he was willing to make. But right now, Krum was still sitting in front of him, expecting an answer. "I will look into it," Komissarov assured him. They both knew he meant the exact opposite, but diplomatic niceties had to be observed.

Sensing that Komissarov would not be moved from his position and seeing no point in continuing the discussion, Krum put his hat back on and rose to leave. "Thank you for your hospitality Vladimir, I hope one day we may see eye to eye," he said as he walked out the door. Krum walked outside to redraw his plans, knowing that he was going to have to do it on his own.

After having a very hearty laugh at MacDonald's misfortunes that morning, Evans began his daily routine of reading every major news source's coverage of the war. Part of this news roundup always included the casualty reports, which he always read with great apprehension, fearing he would find a familiar name among the ranks of the killed and wounded.

On this particular day he was hit with a massive shock as he double and triple checked the report to make sure he had read it correctly. Roger Cranford was missing in action; his plane had been shot down on a mission somewhere over Europe. Evans managed to keep a brave and stoic face throughout the morning meetings, but as soon as he had a free moment, he ran outside to be alone, feeling as if the world was crashing down on him.

As he sat on a grassy knoll, throwing rocks into the distance, Daisy ran outside and sat beside him. She wasn't quite sure what to say, but he was greatly comforted by her presence nonetheless. Greatly shaken, Evans opened up to her, "We were just school boys when we signed up. We knew it was a war, we knew people get killed and wounded, but we never thought it could happen to us. We thought it was going to be this grand adventure that you come home and tell tales about. You never think that you might be the one to end up in an unmarked grave in some foreign land."

Daisy softly grabbed hold of his arm as she patiently and empathetically listened. Finally, she withdrew a stack of papers and spoke up, "John, I knew how hard this would be for you, so I used my clearance level, which is very high you know, and I was able to find this report, I think you might want to read it."

Evans nervously took the papers in his hands as he read from the top, "After Action Report of Wing Commander Ethan Poole, Royal Air Force…"

He hastily skipped downwards until he found the relevant portion, "At 1335 Charlie Six, piloted by Flight Lieutenant Roger Cranford lost to enemy fire. One parachute spotted…"

An enormous wave of relief rushed over Evans as he pieced the situation together. "They spotted a parachute, he must be alive! And if he wasn't on the POW list that means they haven't captured him either," he happily proclaimed.

Daisy squeezed his hand tightly as she told him, "Always remember John, that whatever happens in this war we must never give up hope."

Evans was overcome my more emotions than he could handle. The relief that his best friend was likely still alive, the large new perspective he had gained on everything, but most of all, the undeniable affection he felt towards Daisy. Sensing that this was as good a moment as there would ever be, he leaned towards her with a sense of determination. This was not going to be a reprise of that night in Greece. This time there was no way MacDonald, Reynolds, German bombers, Hitler himself, or any combination thereof were going to come between them. In that moment on the grassy knoll, two normally shy and reserved people overcame a lifetime's worth of apprehensions as they shared a passionate kiss, not caring at all who happened to see them.