Dressed in a Muggle suit, Dumbledore strolled towards the heavily guarded military headquarters building in London. As he made his way inside and past several security check points, he recognized General Alan Brooke arriving at the same time. At Brooke's side was another mustachioed General in a finely pressed uniform and crisp beret who seemed to have an aristocratic air of superiority even stronger than Brooke's.
"Mr. Dumbledore," General Brooke greeted him in his typical stiff manner, "I'd like you to meet General Bernard Montgomery."
"So this is Albus Dumbledore, I've heard so much about you," said Montgomery as he offered his hand.
"You reputation precedes you as well, General," responded Dumbledore as he shook his hand.
The three of them walked down the corridor into the conference room as several American officer walked past them.
"Yanks, what a bloody awful lot," Brooke mumbled just a little too loud.
They took their seats at the table surrounded by large maps and overworked staffers, as General Dwight Eisenhower, the American who was now overall Allied commander, sat at the head. He was a soft spoken Midwesterner with the type of disposition that would normally be associated with one's grandfather. He was of average build, and his forehead was made more prominent by his rapidly receding hairline.
Eisenhower called the meeting to order, "Gentleman, your hard work is about to pay off. For far too long, the people of Europe have lived under oppression. They have patiently waited while we have planned the invasion of France. But now, the hour of liberation has come. We will be landing at Normandy on June 6."
A wave of excitement came over the room. They had been planning for this day a long time, but now the realization was hitting them that it was actually going to happen. Montgomery rose to give a detailed brief on which military units would be involved in the operation, and then an RAF General gave a brief about air support.
Finally, Eisenhower called on Dumbledore to speak. Dumbledore distributed black and white copies of the photographs he had obtained from Maxime as he began his brief, "As most of you are aware the Nazi forces have been aided by the power of the dark wizard Grindelwald. At a great cost, my associates in the magical French resistance have managed to obtain for us detailed plans of Grindelwald's contributions to the Nazi's costal defenses. As you can see in those photographs, Grindelwald has constructed a series of small and compact enchanted fortified outposts along the entire coastline. Clearly the fortresses themselves, but if they were to be defended by skilled wizards, they would pose a formidable obstacle that could stop our entire invasion in its tracks."
Eisenhower looked slightly alarmed, "So what can we do about it?"
Dumbledore explained in his calm, professorial tone, "Grindelwald's forces are currently massed in Russia, and he has the entire European coastline to defend. Given how thin he is stretched, it is highly improbable that these outposts will be defended by his finest warriors. My team can land in Normandy in advance of the invasion and destroy the fortifications before they can become a factor in the battle."
Quietly accepting this new information, Eisenhower quickly gave his approval to Dumbledore's operation. After fielding a few more questions he arose to conclude the meeting, "Gentlemen, we are about to embark on one of the most noble causes in history. Good luck and Godspeed."
"How many times are we going to have to sweep this floor?" grumbled MacDonald.
"Until I say it's finished," said Bromhead, poking his head in the room. His alert instincts had informed him that Macdonald and Reynolds were likely planning some sort of prank, so he had decided to act preemptively and make them clean a large room full of radio equipment.
"So you heard we're going to France?" Reynolds mentioned to MacDonald, looking around to make sure nobody was listening.
MacDonald grinned widely, "I cannot wait to go to France; the sights, the cuisine, but most of all the women. We really do need to find ourselves some French birds, I mean Lieutenant Evans and his pilot mate already scooped up the only decent girls here, unless you're desperate enough to talk to McGonagall that is." His expression turned to one of disgust at the mention of the witch's name.
Reynolds shook his head and laughed, "Speak for yourself mate, but I'm going to ask Jane out."
MacDonald admired his gumption but did not share his confidence as he asked, "Don't you think that's a bit of a stretch mate? I mean she's a high flying socialite and you're just a goofy Aussie."
Reynolds slapped MacDonald on the back and assumed an informative tone, "You have much to learn of the ways of women, my friend. You see, Jane is American. All you have to do to get American girls is go up to them and say 'Oi I have an accent,' it's really that simple."
MacDonald was unconvinced, "Ten pounds says she turns you down."
"You have yourself a deal mate," said Reynolds, grinning widely as they shook hands.
Daisy calmly restrained herself from throwing anything or banging her head on her desk as Jane continued to bombard her with questions.
"So how do you like having a King? That seems so quaint and charming. Oh, do you ever get invited to parties at the palaces? I've heard those are amazing; my father might be able to pull some strings and get me an audience with the royals." said Jane.
Daisy and Lydia exchanged grimaces, hoping to avoid an international incident.
MacDonald covertly watched from a safe distance as Reynolds confidently strolled straight up to Jane's desk.
"I do not believe we've been properly introduced; I'm Will Reynolds." he greeted her.
Jane looked up at him, "Well, Will Reynolds that has to be the strangest British accent I've ever heard."
Reynolds gave her a sly grin, "That's because I'm not British, I'm Australian."
Jane's eyes went wide with amazement, "Australia? I've always wanted to go there, but I've heard they have some pretty dangerous creatures."
Reynolds took a seat on her desk as he explained, "Well yes, kangaroos are nasty little gits, I wouldn't want to get in a scrap with one of them. And then of course we have crocodiles, and then there's dingoes, nasty mangy dogs that come at night and steal your babies. But we also have koalas, which are the cutest things you will ever see."
Jane was clearly impressed, "I'd love to hear more about Australia, it sounds so fascinating."
Reynolds sensed his opening, "Well what do you say then, how about you and I go out sometime and I can tell you all about it?"
Jane smiled at him, "I'd love to."
"Alright then, we have a deal," said Reynolds, who strutted away, completely full of himself. "Time to pay up mate." he whispered as he walked past the incredulous MacDonald.
Amongst the lush fields and hedgerows of Normandy, Thorston Herzog arrived at the small stone fortress for his nightly watch. Initially he had been very excited about the thrill of fighting for Grindelwald, but that thrill had disappeared in the drudgery of his daily routine. Every night was the same; he would stand around in the fort with orders to report anything that happened, but obviously nothing ever did.
As he began to settle in for another night of boredom, his friend Jonas Glockner, who was on watch at the adjacent fort, came over for a chat.
"Are you ready for another night of excitement?" Jonas announced as he entered Thorston's fort.
"I'm sure this will be the most exciting one yet." Thorston answered sarcastically.
Neither one of them were particularly skilled in the magical department. Thorston had been born a squib, much to the chagrin of his family. Jonas was a wizard, but he had been expelled from Durmstang after his third year due to poor academic performance. They both saw fighting for Grindelwald as an opportunity to advance their lot, as well as have an exciting adventure. However, their lack of skills and stature had held them back from more glamorous assignments, and now they were here, guarding lonely outposts in northern France while the bulk of Grindelwald's army was fighting in Russia.
"Lucky for us, I brought along something that might improve this watch a bit," said Jonas, as he pulled a bottle of vodka out of bag.
"I don't know if that's such a good idea, drinking on watch and all." said Thorston hesitantly.
"Oh come on, it's not like anything ever happens here." Jonas responded.
Thorston relented and took a long swig from the bottle as he looked out across the field towards the peaceful, quiet beach. He acknowledged to himself that Jonas was correct; nothing ever did happen there, and there was no reason to suspect that it would.
The night of June 5, 1944 was one of momentous activity for the Allied powers. All over England, the massive armed camps of soldiers came to life as they prepared to depart on the largest invasion in world history. The drone of thousands of engines and propellers filled the air as a large fleet of aircraft took to the sky, carrying the paratroopers that would be the first wave of the attack. Meanwhile, thousands of ships filled the English Channel, preparing to carry the bulk of the American and British Armies to their landing zones on the beaches of France.
At Bletchley Park, the scene was no different as the team prepared to embark on the mission Dumbledore had drawn up, which seemed to be vital to the success of the overall invasion. Spinelli had already taken the galley to Plymouth and would be departing the next morning with Elphias Doge and Benny Hamilton to land the two wizards on the beach, where they would cast shield charms and provide cover for the main invasion force. Meanwhile, the rest of the group was going to be dropping into France by air that night. After having a talk with Evans and Dumbledore, Roger Cranford had agreed to remain with the organization. To fulfill their aeronautical needs, he had managed requisition an aging cargo plane, which he had made extensive repairs to and was now in reasonable flying condition.
Before departing the estate for the small, nearby air strip from which Roger would be taking off, Evans took the opportunity to say goodbye to Daisy, who was working the night shift at the communications desk.
"So what do you want me to bring you from France? Some new jewelry maybe? Or perhaps some artwork?" He asked her.
"Oh John, I'd be happy just to have you back in one piece," she said as she playfully grabbed his arm.
Evans rapidly flipped through the book of useful French phrases that he had been meticulously studying the past few days, determined to teach himself at least the bare minimum of conversational French before he departed.
He stopped on a certain page, finding a phrase he wanted to announce. "Here's a good one, joo voo-dray un croissant," he said, struggling mightily with the French pronunciations, "That means I would like a croissant."
"That's the most important thing you'll need to know." said Daisy.
"Ahh here's another good one," he announced with a grin, "Everton sont meilleurs que Liverpool; that means Everton are better than Liverpool."
Daisy laughed, "I am certain you will find a situation there in which you will have to know how to say that."
He made one last check through his pack, making sure he had brought all the equipment he would need, that his rifle was clean and operational, and most importantly, that his parachute was securely packed. As he prepared to leave for the airfield could feel something eating away at him; a phrase that he had wanted to say for quite some time but had never really found the right moment, but he saw no better time than right now.
Looking back, he nervously proclaimed, "I love you, Daisy."
Daisy was silent for a tense moment as she searched for the right response. Finally, she responded, "Moi aussi Je t'aime," in perfectly accented French.
Evans quickly and nervously paged through his French phrase book, desperately attempting to translate what Daisy had just said. With a warm smile, she grabbed the book from him and slammed it shut.
"It means I love you too, John," she explained, giving him a soft kiss goodbye as he turned to walk out the door.
At the airfield, MacDonald and Reynolds loaded their equipment into the plane's cargo bay as Roger performed his pre-flight checks; making sure the cockpit, engines and propellers were in working order.
"Are the wizards coming with us?" MacDonald asked as he carefully placed a large box of ammunition in the cargo hold.
"No they're not, Dumbledore said they're going to fly alongside on their broom sticks and rendezvous with you all when you land," Roger answered him.
MacDonald breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh good, that's great news. There is no way I could stand an entire plane ride to France with Minerva Mc-Know-it-all sitting there bothering us."
Reynolds added another box of ammunition to the pile as he felt himself becoming exasperated with his friend. He told him in a firm voice, "Look mate, you need to get over yourself and just admit that you fancy her."
"What the hell are you talking about?" MacDonald asked uncomfortably.
Reynolds calmly explained, "I was reading one of those new psychology books in my spare time and I think it describes you perfectly. You see, joining the Army was your first time living away from your mother, who you obviously hold in high regard. Army discipline is all well and good, but you really miss having an authoritative female figure in your life. Now that one has arrived here, you are falling in love with her and you can't bring yourself to admit it."
MacDonald's face grew even redder than his hair as he said defensively, "That is the most preposterous load of rubbish I have ever heard in my life."
Roger poked his head out from the cockpit as he added, "I've noticed it too; you always seem to be stealing glances at her."
MacDonald became even more uncomfortable and defensive as he stuttered, "Well…you know…it's like a car wreck, when you don't want to see it but you're going to keep looking at it anyway."
"Yes, of course, that's exactly what you're doing," said Reynolds sarcastically.
MacDonald was spared from further interrogation by the approach of Bromhead driving a jeep which also carried Evans, Dumbledore and McGonagall. MacDonald and McGonagall made eye contact for a brief instant before he nervously looked away and walked onto the plane. Reynolds, Bromhead, and Evans followed him onboard as they strapped themselves into their seats and prepared for takeoff. Roger concluded his preflight inspection and started the engines as the propellers began to turn, creating a powerful force of wind.
Minerva waited on the air strip with her broom in hand as Dumbledore poked his head through the door of the plane.
"You have all been briefed on the mission. We will land at the rendezvous point we discussed and proceed with the mission as planned. I wish you all luck, and I'll see you on the other side of the Channel," Dumbledore announced to the group, having to speak loudly to be heard over the propellers.
"Happy flying, Dumbledore!" said Roger with a wave.
Dumbledore stepped off and retrieved his broom from McGonagall as the plane slowly taxied down the runway, preparing to lift off into the night.