Sunrise Over Britain :: Chapter 29

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Standard Disclaimer:

Alyx walked into the theater and scowled. Up on the stage was the Hogwarts Express and Bob was trying to lift it using some pulleys, but without much success.

"What are you doing?" she screeched at him. She knew with his delicate condition he shouldn't be overdoing things and lifting a one hundred ton steam locomotive was definitely overdoing it.

Bob looked up from the rope he was tugging on. "Me? Oh... Well I'm... er... oh all right, I'm setting up for our next Snape disclaimer if you must know!"

She shook her head and lowered her voice. "Bob, dear," she said as if speaking to a small child. "We killed Snape in the last chapter. That means we can't use him again in a disclaimer."

Bob paled and muttered anxiously to himself. He turned away from the train and Alyx, looking around wildly. "But I had it all planned out. Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort were to perform a can-can wearing thongs and I'd drop a locomotive on them after Snape told the audience that we don't own the Potterverse and that we make no claim to any part of the franchise. Then Harry would climb out from under Hermione's skirt and he'd make a vague sexual innuendo."

Alyx smacked Bob in the head. "You better come up with a new idea! Besides, I'm tired of killing people in our disclaimers. I want something happy, and nice and joyful, maybe with nice pastel colors..."

Bob sidled away from Alyx who was still muttering about pastel colors and dancing hippogriffs.

Alyx stopped when she noticed Bob trying to sneak away. She pounced on him. "Now listen to me! I swear I don't know why I keep you around anymore! If you weren't so good in bed..."

Bob turned to the audience. "I'm sorry, but due to technical difficulties, this disclaimer is about to be rated X. If you are under 18, please skip down to the story."

The curtain fell on the amorous authors.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a knowing grin when they heard the sounds coming from behind the curtain.

"They've never done that before," Harry murmured worriedly.

"I think it's cute, a bunch of old people getting it on. Gives me hope that you'll still be capable when you get that old," Hermione said smugly.

"Hey!" Harry protested.

"Aren't you supposed to be under my skirt?" she asked him archly.

"Oh yeah," he replied, sliding off his seat.

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 29

Padfoot Manor (March 5th)...

"I can't see my feet and it's all your fault, Terry Boot!" Susan shouted.

Terry winced and tried to help her walk to a chair.

"I'm pregnant, not an invalid, dammit!" she snapped at him.

Terry backed away from her, holding up his hands. His injuries were mostly healed, but, like Harry, he still resorted to using a cane. Unlike Harry, who suffered from painful muscle cramping, his injury was mostly nerve damage, causing his leg to go numb and unresponsive for short durations.

His steps faltered and he quickly grabbed his cane.

He hobbled to a chair, where he could wait out the pins and needles in his leg. The healers kept claiming his leg had healed just fine, but the fact was there had been no marked improvement in the last two months. He didn't want to tell Susan, but even his healers were starting to talk about there being some residual loss of function, as if preparing him for bad news.

Susan watched him hobble to a chair and frowned. She knew her pregnancy had made her short tempered, but Terry really didn't deserve the bad treatment. Especially since his injury came about while defending her.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you," she whispered.

He looked up at her with concern. "It's alright, love, and you probably should yell at me. After all, I'm the one that got you like that."

"It took both of us," she growled. "And stop patronizing me when I'm trying to be reasonable!"

"Alright! I won't!" he snapped back.

"FINE!" she yelled.

"FINE!" he replied back.

Susan launched herself from her chair, crashing into Terry and for a moment his chair rocked backwards. He wrapped his arms around her and she wept against him. She hated feeling this ungainly, this ugly and refused to believe him when he told her she was still beautiful in his eyes.

Once she managed to get control of her emotions, she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I just can't help myself these days. I feel so big and ugly," she whispered.

He kissed her forehead. "I know things seem bad now, Susan, but soon, we'll have a daughter and she'll be as beautiful as you are."

Susan looked at him as if she was unsure of his comments. "Do you really mean that?"

He caressed her cheek and nodded.

"Would you make love to me?" she whispered.

"What did the healer say? Can we still do that?"

"We have to stop in the last three weeks, but even then there were still some things we could do. We still have nearly four weeks."

His hand slid into her robe and gently cupped one of her breasts. "I'll make love to you anytime and anyway you wish," he whispered huskily against her neck.

She shivered and whimpered slightly against him. She might feel ugly and awkward, but her husband didn't think so.

The Lawn of Padfoot Manor, later that day...

Harry walked up the long driveway towards the manor. He had spent most of the day at the Operations Center working on paperwork and had decided to walk home to work out the kinks caused from sitting for so long.

Approaching the Manor, he spotted several figures out on the lawn kneeling in prayer and decided to wait. Alim and his party had arrived from Beauxbatons and had opted to stay at Harry's invitation for a few extra days. Despite his insistence, Alim had brought his tent and slept in it, rather than the house. While most of his family stayed with him, one of his sons, Pasha, and his two wives accepted the invitation to stay in the manor. Apparently, Pasha's wives found western baths sinfully decadent and quite enjoyable.

Alim stood and one of his sons scooped up his prayer rug, returning it to the tent. A moment later several chairs were brought out and placed around a charcoal brazier, which was then lit.

Alim waved Harry over to join them. "Welcome, my friend! I hope your day has been a fruitful one?" he asked with a broad grin.

Harry shook his head and grimaced back. "I don't know about that, but his Majesty's government seems to think that a military unit fights with paper! I've spent most of the day filing reports and filling out requests."

Alim laughed heartedly. One of his younger sons placed several kabobs on the brazier, which put out a surprising amount of welcome heat on the chilly March day.

"I noticed you watching us pray. Tell me, my friend, do you think about God much?" asked Alim.

"No, actually, I don't, Excellency. My relatives never took me to church, and well... British Wizarding society has an eclectic mix of beliefs. Eocho, whom you've met, believes in the old Celtic Gods and I have seen them in action. But are they God or just powerful spirits? I don't know."

Harry sighed. "I guess I've seen too much man made suffering to believe in a God that looks down on us and takes care of us. Hermione was raised as a catholic, and I know she's had trouble dealing with the idea of being a witch and a catholic."

Alim nodded and passed Harry a cup of strong coffee.

"I was like you, in my youth. But God is. That is what I have learned. He is. Some of our people think that we should bring war to those that do not believe in God. And some among your own people think the same," Alim said, then he shrugged. "I am an old man and the juices of passion no longer race through my veins like they did in my youth. Now days, I prefer to use those juices on my wives, rather than chasing dreams with a sword. I have traveled the world, watching and learning. Buddhist, Christian, Jew, Hindu or Animist. It doesn't matter. What matters is one simple truth. God is."

Harry looked at him strangely.

Alim leaned back and smiled at him. "Confusing, yes? Let me try to make it simpler then. God is. He watches and sees what we do with what we have been given. God judges, but does not directly interfere. He nudges and prods on occasion, but generally, he lets the river of life flow where it may.

"You look and say, but what about my people? Look at the oppression and cruelty they live under! Why can't God do something about that? Why would an almighty God, who loves us, allow such a terrible thing to happen?"

The sheik paused, watching the young man carefully. Harry's eyes were wide and he nodded slightly. What Alim was saying was pivotal to his entire argument against God in the first place.

Alim chuckled, noting Harry's expression, then he poked him in the chest. "Has it not occurred to you that you are God's response to what your people are enduring? Is it not possible that God has placed you on the path of being Savior to your people? Or to us all? For if Lord Voldemort escapes Britain, we are all in danger."

The sheik took one of the kabobs off the fire and tore into a piece of meat. At his nod, one of his younger sons offered one to Harry.

"We wizards are a blessed lot, and we tend to be more devout than the muggles because we can see the possibility of forces greater than ourselves. Our magic allows us to accept the idea of a greater being who watches over us, with powers we do not understand.

"No matter what name you give him, God is. He watches, he judges and sometimes he steps in and does something through his people. Look at you, my friend. Admittedly, you are not a very imposing person, medium height, medium build, not very handsome, although your wife may disagree with me. But you have more power than I have ever seen in a wizard. You have a sense of presence about you that commands respect. Who is to say that you haven't been touched by God and tasked to do his bidding?

Alim paused and waved a hand skyward, where a darkening sky was just beginning to shine with stars.

"His works are infinite and infinitely mysterious. That is why I tell you, God is. If you can learn that, then truly you will be a wise man," he said softly, then bit off more of his kabob.

"I have not thought about it that way, Excellency," Harry murmured. He turned the idea over in his mind, trying to find some flaw, some argument, but nothing came. It was a leap of faith, but it was only a small one. He was uncomfortable with the idea that he might be doing God's work. He didn't think he was worthy.

"I'm not sure I would be a good instrument for God's work," he said finally.

Alim nodded solemnly. "Who among us is, my friend? Would you trust someone else to lead the effort to save your country? Only God knows the full plan and it's not our place to question it."

Harry fell silent, nibbling on his kabob and staring into the coals. The older man had given him a lot to think about.

The brazier threw off a low red glow as the sun sunk below the horizon. Several of Alim's sons began to sing, softly.

Alim glanced over at Harry, then nodded knowingly. "So, tell me, my friend, how goes the preparations? Can Egypt do more to help?"

Harry glanced around, then he cast a privacy ward. Alim's sons, seeing the ward go up, excused themselves and went back into the tent. He could feel Hermione every so often testing their bond, wondering where he was. She kept quiet however. She could sense he was nearby and safe so she wasn't worried.

"The preparations are advancing and accelerating, Excellency. I am uncertain what else your great country can do, but we have several important issues we are still struggling with. Supplies will be a problem. We hope for a short campaign. If we run into prolonged fighting, we will be hard pressed to supply our forces in the field. That is just one of the issues we face."

Harry stared at the brazier for a moment. "In a few weeks we will have a meeting of the field commanders. I think I will push for a representative of each contributing nation to be present. Perhaps together we will be able to solve all of the problems."

"A meeting would go far to ease the worries of our allies. And who knows? You might find yourself with additional aid you had not expected," Alim offered.

Harry glanced at the sheik and nodded. He wondered if Alim was trying to tell him something. Finally he stood, dropped the privacy ward and smiled at his friend. "Excellency, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish. I know Hermione and I both greatly enjoy your company."

Alim laughed. "Go to your lovely wife, Lord Potter. I thank you for your invitation. These past days have been enjoyable, but truly, I miss the desert. The burning sands beckon and I think that on the morrow I shall return home. I will speak with my cousin, the Minister, and he will find a suitable representative for your meeting. Perhaps, after the war, you will come visit with me. I will take you and your wife to the ruins of the Great Observatory at Karnac. Even today, it is a sight to behold!"

Harry bowed. "We would enjoy that, Excellency. Thank you."

As the young man walked away, Alim smiled. "Go with God, Harry Potter. You may not believe in him, but I think he believes in you," he said softly.

As he walked towards the manor, he could hear Alim and his extended family singing softly around their brazier.

He caught up with Hermione in their bedroom. She was dressed for bed already, but was sitting in a chair by the fire, reading.

He smiled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his wardrobe and pulling out some clothing.

"I could tell that our friend had given you something important to think about. It had better not be about multiple wives," she teased.

He laughed. "No, I have my hands full with one wife. We talked about God, if you can believe it."

She closed her book and looked at him. "Oh? What did he have to say?"

"It's not so much what he said, as what he didn't say. He believes very strongly in his faith and in God," Harry said thoughtfully.

"You make it sound like they're two different things."

"Aren't they? One thing describes how he believes and how he practices that belief. The other is what he believes in."

Hermione frowned, confused. "I don't..."

"Let me see if I can explain a bit better."

She nodded and he pulled a chair closer to her and sat down. "You're catholic and you believe in God, right?"

She nodded.

"Is Alim wrong, then? He calls his God by a different name. Or the Dursleys. When they went to church, they went to an Anglican church. Their God is nearly the same as yours. But they worshiped differently. Merlin! I don't know what religion my parents followed, but they celebrated Christmas, so I think it would have been one of the Christian ones. Alim says God is. Just that - God is. I think he was trying to tell me that God exists and no matter what religion you use, it's still the same God."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I've heard that argument before. But what brought this up? I mean we've touched on religion before, but we've never really talked about it. We are going to have to address this issue before we start having children."

"I know," he replied softly. "I'm not sure what brought it up. I think, perhaps, it's because I was wondering what it was like to believe in something so strongly."

She blinked at him in surprise. "It bothers you that you don't have something to believe in?"

"I have lots to believe in," he protested. "I believe in your love and in my friends."

"But you're wondering if there's more?"

Harry sighed and nodded slowly. "I can't but wonder if this is all there is. Oh, I know about the ghosts and other proofs that life exists beyond death, but does it really? Are all our proofs real, or just comforting explanations designed to make us feel better? Alim believes, and that gives him peace. I can't help wondering about it."

She reached over and took his hand in hers. "So, what do you want to do about it?"

He shrugged uncertainly. "I'm not sure. I know we've had this hovering around us for while and we've ignored it."

Hermione sat silently for a moment. She had a good idea what brought this up. It was something that was gnawing at her, too. The operational tempo in Haven was speeding up. Everyone could feel that they were nearing the end, even those not familiar with what was happening in the war. Harry was worried, and having faith in something outside of his control might help ease that worry.

"How about this Sunday you come with Mum, Dad and me when we go to St. Marks in Killarney? In the meantime, I'll answer any questions you might have."

He smiled. "I think I'll try it. But for now, I'm going for a long soak in the bath."

She gave him a sultry look. "Keep the water warm and maybe in an hour I'll come and join you."

He flushed and grinned. "I-I-I'd like that."

When he finally closed the bathroom door, she laughed softly to herself. No matter how intimate they had become, she could still make him stammer like an inexperienced schoolboy.

Hogwarts Castle (March 6th)...

With the morning briefing over, Harry left his study and walked to the basement of the manor. He opened the door to the restricted portal and entered. After locking the door, he activated the portal control pedestal and dialed in his location.

Turning, he levitated several boxes through the portal before stepping through himself.

"Lights!" he hissed in parseltongue.

The torches around the chamber flared, giving the room an eerie appearance. The only other source of light came from the power crystal sitting on a table not far from the portal. He checked the crystal and determined that it still had adequate power. He wouldn't have to recharge it during this visit.

It wasn't long before the Baron appeared. Even if he couldn't see them, there was almost always a ghost or two nearby, in case someone from Haven arrived.

"My lord Baron," Harry said with a bow, then he conjured a chair for himself. "I come with news."

"As do I, my lord," replied the Baron. Behind him, several other ghost shimmered and became visible. They were like everyone else in several way, including the wish to hear news or gossip.

"Our time is quickly approaching," Harry said, speaking to them all. "Your efforts have helped us tremendously and will not be forgotten. Even now we and our allies gather our forces and prepare to attack the Dark Lord directly.

"For this reason I come here today, bringing supplies to our Poltergeists and because I need to get the passage information for this chamber."

He glanced over towards the boxes of supplies and he grinned, seeing the five poltergeists, all but drooling over their contents.

Peeves peeled off from the others and zoomed over to Harry. He handed Harry a parchment which contained a map. A map that looked like it had been drawn by a dyslexic five year old with a blunt crayon. Harry looked down at the map and frowned. It wasn't exactly useful to him in this condition.

The Baron cleared his ghostly throat and looked ready to break into laughter. "Having Peeves draw the map was perhaps not the best idea, my lord."

Harry grimaced. "No. I had hoped for something better than this. Although the stick figures are drawn rather well..."

"My lord, if you would trust me enough to lower your occlumency shields for a brief moment or two, I can impart the information you need directly into your mind."

Harry frowned. Dropping his shields this close to Voldemort was an incredible risk, but the map he had been given was unusable. Reluctantly, he nodded at the Baron and dropped his shields.

The Baron moved closer to Harry and seemed to slide into him. Harry shivered as his body temperature dropped several degrees and he suddenly seemed to be two people in the same body. His mind reeled as a torrent of information flooded into him, information describing the status of the castle and all of it's hidden passages. He could clearly see in his mind the six passages leading from the chamber, including two that were of great interest to him. In an instant he also understood the limitations and why some passages were not fully explored.

The Baron slid out of Harry and he looked at him with renewed respect. "You have a highly organized mind, my lord, and powerful emotions. I have not felt such power in all my days," the ghost said quietly. He seemed to be having difficulty holding his form as he shimmered and blurred.

Harry sank into his chair, shuddering slightly from the Baron's exit. It was a singularly unusual sensation, one which he hoped not to repeat in the near future.

He shook himself and looked up at the Baron, who seemed to be in about as bad a shape as he was. "What other news have you for me?" he gasped out.

The Baron motioned and the Gray Lady hovered closer. "We have learned that Professor Snape was killed just after he made a breakthrough in the ritual they've been performing," she said in a soft contralto.

Harry looked up and scowled. "So, Voldemort knows how to extend it now?" he asked. This was news of the worst kind.

"Nay, my lord. Professor Snape had been given a slave as a reward. You might remember the girl. A Miss Chang, from Ravenclaw? She killed Professor Snape just after he made his breakthrough, then she committed suicide in front of Voldemort. She will be honored as one of Ravenclaws heroes."

Harry gaped at her. "Cho?" he whispered. "Cho was left behind?"

"Her parents removed her from Hogwarts, my lord, to protect her. She was not here to be evacuated. You did not leave her behind," she told him, her voice soothing.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain. He never loved Cho like he loved Hermione, but her death was painful.

"Did she come back, like Penelope?" he asked after a few minutes silence. He was dreading her answer.

"No, my lord. She was quite insane at the time. But she went to her destiny content and was at peace in the end," the Gray Lady replied.

Harry bowed his head and sighed with relief. He wasn't sure he could have handled Cho as a ghost.

"You went out with her for a while, didn't you?" she asked gently.

He looked up. "Yes, I did. She would have gone with us to Haven, but she never came back from the Yule break." He shook himself, trying to break his mood. "Thank you, my lady," he said softly. Turning then, he motioned for Peeves to come closer.

"Peeves, I brought you different toys this time."

Peeves snapped him a salute, then passed wind loudly. "Pottyboy!" he shouted and his brothers zoomed over to him.

Harry suppressed a smile. "Peeves, please. I need you to listen to me or I won't bring you more toys to play with."

Four of the poltergeists immediately transfigured into corn cobs. "We're all ears!" Peeves proclaimed proudly.

Harry groaned and wished he didn't have the equivalent of the spectral Weasley twins to work with. "Fine, just listen. From here on out, attack the black robes. Make them afraid, make then nervous. Just do not do any more damage to the castle," he said patiently.

Peeves stopped whirling around and peered at Harry. "Good wizards coming soon? School come back?"

Harry whirled and glared at one poltergeist who was trying to look under his robes.

"I hope so, Peeves," he replied, eying the poltergeists warily.

Peeves beamed a huge smile at him and Harry backed away nervously.

One of the Poltergeists had conjured a lit miners cap and another was pulling down his pants and bending over. Harry didn't think he needed to be there any longer. As he quickly walked to the portal, he never noticed the other ghosts fleeing the chamber, as well.

Apparently, even ghosts had their limits.

Padfoot Manor...

Harry shut the control pedestal down, then slowly trudged out of the room. The information the Baron had given him was important, but he was also depressed by the news about Cho.

"Harry?" came the alarmed thought. "What's wrong, love?"

"Another death," he replied with a heavy sigh. Hermione was at the other end of the building and still able to detect he was upset.

The bond between them widened and he could feel her anxiety bleeding over. "Who?"

"The Gray Lady told me that Cho Chang killed Snape, just after he discovered a work around for that ritual of theirs, then committed suicide right in front of Voldemort after taunting him. Apparently, Cho was given to Snape as a pleasure slave. She was a reward for him. When will it end, Hermione? How many more must die?"

There was a moment of silence across the bond while Hermione digested the news. Cho hadn't been competition, as far as she was concerned. Harry and Cho never really had a relationship, but she could understand why he was upset. Cho's death was personal. It was close enough to hurt and it represented all the other deaths that they knew about, but pretended not to feel.

She widened their bond to the maximum that she could. He could feel her slip past his shields and surround him with her presence. She was the only person he allowed completely past his shields. Even Eocho couldn't penetrate them all. Her presence had a calming effect on him. Up until that moment, he hadn't realized just how close had had come to losing control.

"Come to me, my love. I'm in the library," she sent. Her tone was filled with love and understanding and her mind beckoned to him like a flame to a moth.

His breath hitched a few times, then he squared his shoulders and went upstairs. Less than three minutes later, he was in Hermione's arms. He didn't feel the need to cry, but he needed to be held by someone who understood and accepted him.

After a few minutes he pulled away from her far enough to look into her eyes and smiled weakly.

"Without you, I'd be lost," he whispered. He then leaned in and kissed her lightly.

"Nearly every time you go there you come back with bad news," she complained after she kissed him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I can't see that place generating much in the way of good news. I mean, it is Voldemort Central, you know. While I'm here, I need some help building a map." He pulled out the map Peeves had drawn and handed it to her.

She looked at it and nibbled on her lower lip. "Well, the stick figures are really good, but I thought you could draw better than this?"

Harry growled in her direction. "I didn't draw that. Peeves did!"

She chuckled softly. "Oh, well it's not very useful, is it?"

"No, it isn't. But if we can figure out a way of doing this," he said, then he extended his staff. The emerald flared and a transparent three dimensional map of Hogwarts appeared floating in front of her.

She walked around the map for a bit, examining it. "This is really good, Harry, but why do we need to recreate this?"

"Because it's taking a lot to produce this," he replied.

She glanced at him and noted the beads of sweat popping up on his forehead. She waved to him and he stopped the presentation.

"Perhaps we can use or alter a pensieve. That way, you only have to do it once and we could replay it when needed," she mused.

"That would work, but we'll need two of them. Someone is going to have to turn that first map into a drawn map."

She looked at him and grinned. "You know, you employ several artists and the Johansen twins are both quite capable of drawing. I've seen some of the designs being made for the portals, and I know that Helga and Olga both have worked on blueprints for those red headed lunatics."

Harry looked intrigued. "I need to speak with the twins anyway. I'll talk to the girls when I'm over there. If they can't do it, I'll swing by the portal factory and see if I employ an artist who can draw a map," he mused.

Hermione nodded and smiled smugly to herself. She had distracted Harry out of his funk over Cho. She was confident in their relationship enough to know he was upset because he knew her, she was a friend in his mind and that made her death all the worse.

"Oh, you received a delivery today. It's from Ragnok, I think," she informed him, pulling a small, sealed box out of her pocket.

He looked at the box with interest. It was made of plain wood, but had an ornate 'G' embossed on the lid. He pressed the 'G' with his thumb and the box flattened, then expanded to nearly twice it's size. The 'G' developed a pair of lips and began to speak.

"Greetings! Ragnok, Director of Gringotts and Leader of the Goblin Nation, wishes to meet with you. If possible, please come to Gringotts, Stonewall Lane Branch, this Friday, March 9th. Please bring your lovely wife along, as well as anyone else whom you might think useful. We will be discussing a closer cooperation between the Human and Goblin communities."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who stared at the now inert wooden square in Harry's hand. The lips on the 'G' had vanished.

"What the devil was that?" exclaimed Harry.

"Kind of like a wooden howler?" Hermione offered. She looked more interested in the way the message was delivered than the actual message. "Not all howlers scream, love. They repeat their message at the volume the message was recorded at."

"Oh, I still remember the one Molly sent Ron in second year. I never wanted to receive one after that."

"One of the advantages of having muggles for parents," Hermione replied slyly.

"It would be, but you know better."

Hermione looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "What are you on about?"

"Your parents weren't Muggles, Hermione. Heck, they weren't even squibs. Are you a pure blood? I don't know, but your parents aren't muggles. I think I may have even less of a pedigree than you do," Harry told her, grinning. He began to back toward the door. "Now you can pretend to be one of those obnoxious pure bloods. I'm sure Draco would be willing to give you lessons in being snooty."

As she drew her wand, he laughed and danced out of the way of the stinging hex she sent his way.

"I'll get you for that, Potter," she called when he ducked out of the room. Once he was gone, she laughed to herself, then stuck her nose in the air. "Hem hem," she said with a giggle. "Umbridge would be so proud."

Haven Operations Center...

"Caleb, General Stanton is here to see you," Terry Boot said from the doorway.

Caleb put the parchment he was reading down and looked up. "Send him in, Terry, and join us. You've been watching the operational picture more than I have, at this point."

Terry nodded and disappeared. He returned a few moments later, leading Charles Stanton into the office.

Caleb stood and extended his hand to the commander of the American and Canadian forces.

"Chuck, good to see you," Caleb said with a smile, shaking the man's hand.

"Caleb," Stanton replied. "I was on the way back home from Brussels and I thought I'd stop in and see how things are progressing." He sat down when he was waved to a chair.

Caleb nodded. Stanton was fishing for information and he understood that and why. Like Caleb, Stanton had political masters that he needed to appease.

"We have the rough outlines of an operational plan down, but there are some details we're still working on. We're fairly certain that one of our deceptions has been picked up by the enemy."

Stanton nodded thoughtfully. "When do you think you'll have a plan you can present?"

Caleb sighed. "I'm not sure, Chuck. We have the plans for the castle, but the primary insertion point isn't big enough to accommodate all of our forces. Harry's looking into finding us an area large enough to take a second group."

"He's planning on splitting our forces?" Stanton said with a frown. Splitting your forces was never a good idea, if you could avoid it.

"That was my initial reaction as well, Chuck, but I'm going to ask you to reserve judgment for now. He's talked to me about the over all plan, and I have to admit to being surprised at how good the idea actually is. I don't want to go into details now, though. His plan is a rough draft and may not be used if conditions aren't favorable. What about on your end?"

Stanton leaned back. "We'll be ready to arrive here given a three day notice. As overall commander of both the American and Canadian forces, I can safely say we'll be putting fifty five hundred soldiers onto the field, including the Animagi Division and the Northwest Shaman Regiment from Canada."

The pride in Stanton's voice was hard to miss. He had worked hard to get where he was and he was justifiably pleased with his troops. Both groups were training hard.

Caleb glanced at Terry. "Given General Stanton's troop numbers, plus our two brigades and five hundred extra troops under our control from the smaller nations, we'll be able to field a total of seventy five hundred. Then there are some five hundred elves. If our estimates of the enemy are correct, that's a force ratio of roughly one and a half to one."

"How many wizards do you think he can put into the field?" asked Stanton.

Terry checked his notes. "Originally, we figured he had between thirty five hundred and forty five hundred. The attack on the camps may have reduced that number by as much as one thousand, perhaps twelve hundred, but we know he was reinforced. We're currently estimating roughly between forty five hundred and five thousand, sir.

"As to non-humans supporting him, that number is fairly low. Britain never had much in the way of a giant population, and only a few vampire clans joined with him before the ward was raised. At least, that is our thinking on the matter," Terry frowned and looked to Caleb. "How long do you think we'll need to keep our troops here in Haven, sir?"

Caleb glanced over at Stanton. "Let's say three days to a week, maximum?" he said uncertainly.

Stanton nodded in reply. He was still considering Terry's numbers. "Anything longer and we should return the troops to their original bases, I would think," he offered finally.

Terry made a mark in his notes. "I think I better get in touch with the quartermaster and arrange for enough supplies to be on hand. The camp itself is nearly completed, and we're well along in our stockpiling of supplies for the assault."

"Good. Thanks, Terry." Caleb turned back to Stanton. "Chuck, I know our governments agreed that I was to be in overall command of this operation, but I want to know your thoughts and get your input on what we're doing. The better we can work together, the more of our boys we can bring home alive."

Stanton nodded and both men fell silent. It was never far from their minds that they would be soon leading men into battle and there would be casualties.

Caleb stood. "Would you like to see the camp? It's not a long walk and I know you need some information for your government."

"I could use a walk," Stanton agreed. "My staff is conferring with your people, so there's really no need for you and I to talk about how many rolls of toilet paper we need to store."

Caleb laughed and led him from his office.

Padfoot Manor, Harry's Study (March 7th)...

Harry stood by the window watching as elves work on the grounds, while the Brotherhood filed into the room. In the distance, he could see Feeder being chased by a group of squirrels.

The little elf ran, screaming, his arms waving frantically and spilling peanuts all over the lawn from the open bag clutched in his hand. Harry shook his head and wondered if the elf would ever learn.

He turned away from the window to face his friends. Most were already seated when Hermione walked in holding what appeared to be a pensieve sitting on a layer of his rune stones.

"Is that it?" he asked her.

She nodded and he grinned. "Excellent," he exclaimed.

Hermione put the strange looking pensieve on his desk. "Treat it like you would a regular pensieve. Take the memory of the model you can project and place it in the bowl," she said softly.

Harry pulled his shrunken staff from his holster. Withdrawing the memory, he placed it in the bowl, then looked at Hermione.

She reached over and pressed three rune stones, then tapped the bowl with her wand. Immediately the model of Hogwarts appeared, floating above the pensieve. "Touch the areas of the model with the tip of your wand to make them highlight," she told him.

Harry nodded and turned to face everyone. "What you are looking at is a map of the interior of Hogwarts, and in particular, the passages leading from our chamber to the rest of the castle. These passages have been scouted by the castle ghosts as being viable for a man to walk through."

He reached through the model and touched two jagged lines leading from the chamber. The lines brightened.

"You'll note that these two passages seem to be cut off, that is, they don't seem to go anywhere. The Bloody Baron assures me they do. Because they extend beyond the grounds of the castle, the ghosts are unable to finish mapping them. And therein lies the problem," he told those gathered in the room.

"There is not enough room to move all of the troops into the castle through the chamber, even if we risked enlarging it. There are limits to the space enlarging charms and we all know, the larger the space, the more power it takes to continue enlarging the area.

"What we need to do is return to the castle and see where these two passages come out. Obviously they do not exit anywhere in the castle. Both appear to exit in the Forbidden Forest, but we need to be certain of that. The last thing we need to do is find out on the day we plan to attack that the passages have been collapsed and are unusable."

Remus frowned. "Has Caleb been informed that you want to return to the castle and leave the chamber?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I spoke to him earlier today about it. He agrees we need to check it out. He's not happy with the idea, but agrees to the necessity of it."

"But why, Harry? Why do we need to know where these passages exit?" asked Emma. She was clearly frightened by the idea.

"With the chamber being unable to support all of our troops, we have to adjust our plans, Mum. If these passages come out in the forest, we might be able to sneak a team in early to set up a pair of industrial, one way portals. That way, we can bring in people from two or more separate areas," Harry told her.

Emma stared at the model and nodded uneasily. Dan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"This is going to be a scouting trip only. And considering how close to the castle we'll be, magic should only be used as a last resort," Harry said.

Ginny rubbed her arms nervously. "Why can't we use elves to scout this out?" she asked.

"We need to complete the map, Gin, and a pensieve won't work for elves. Besides, I'm pretty sure Harry has another reason, as well," Neville said.

Harry chuckled. "I do, actually. I'm hoping that Luna might be able to convince the local species to help us, or at least leave us alone."

Everyone turned to look at Luna, who smiled gently. Fuzz opened her eyes and meeped questioningly at everyone. She reached up and stroked her familiar. "That shouldn't be a problem, Harry. Unless we run into some late blooming Bugmurts. They tend to be rather uncooperative, especially during molting season," she replied softly. She leaned against Draco, practically purring. "Are we going now? I had hoped to make love to Draco this afternoon."

Harry flushed and cough.

Hermione, out of habit, opened her mouth to refute the claim of Bugmurts. When Fuzz blinked at her, she nearly growled in frustration. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and huffed to herself. The Snorkack was a living monument to her mistake in not believing Luna. And while she had nothing against Fuzz, she did wish Fuzz would stop rubbing her nose in it.

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head, while Ginny, Dan and Tonks laughed.

"Er, no. I think I'll let you have a few hours before we leave, Luna," Harry stammered.

"That's generous of you, Harry, but I don't think Draco can last that long. Maybe I can help him," Luna replied.

Draco buried his head in his hands and groaned. Luna patted him on the back and whispered something in his ear ,which only increased his blush.

"I'm filing this under too much information," Neville commented.

"Agreed," Harry replied, shaking his head. "Tonight," he continued seriously, "we'll go back to the castle. Only four of us will follow the passages; Draco, Luna, Neville and myself. Hermione will be able to pick up the information from my mind and feed it into our display pensieve. I'd like the rest of you to talk to the ghosts. Get a feel in regard to how the people live and work around the castle. I'd like to get an idea about what happens there. Do they patrol the castle or the grounds? Are there posted guards? And if so, where? That sort of thing."

Harry turned to Emma and Dan, eying them speculatively. "I know we said we'd not send either of you two into harms way, but the chamber is secure, so I'm giving you a choice. You can come along and help, or remain behind."

Dan and Emma exchanged a look. "I think we'd like to take a more active role in the war, Harry," Dan said. "We both know we're not trained to fight, but there are still things we can do. Emma and I both feel a little left out when you all go off on a Brotherhood mission."

Harry nodded. "I suspected as much, Dad. That's why I'm making the offer. Now, to placate my wife, I'm going to say this. Other than defending yourselves, you will not be fighting anywhere. You two are not the only ones who stand to be left behind. Terry, Susan? I'm sorry, but I'd prefer you both remain in the manor tonight."

Terry gave Harry a grateful look. "I think that's probably a good idea," he said sadly.

Susan turned to look at him suspiciously. "Terry? If you want to go, I don't mind staying behind."

Terry sighed and looked down at his feet for a moment, his hands idly playing with his cane. "It's not that. My days of fighting Dark Wizards are done," he said with a bitter laugh. "Some dark wizard catching career, eh? My first real encounter turned out to be my last."

"Terry?" Susan exclaimed in alarm.

"My healers told me today that my leg won't get any better, Suse. I'll always have periods of numbness. Even Harry's emergency strengthening spell has no effect," he told her quietly.

"Oops," murmured Harry, wincing. He had not wanted anyone knowing about that spell. He had told Terry about it only because their problems were similar.

"What strengthening spell?" asked Hermione, her eyes narrowing.

"I think we're just about finished here. We'll all meet down in the portal room at ten tonight," Harry said, trying to ignore Hermione's question.

"Harry," Hermione said warningly.

He flinched, then shrugged. "It's a spell Eocho taught me. I've not tried it myself, but it's supposed to strengthen a damaged limb for a short amount of time. According to Eocho, you could have a leg broken in multiple places and the spell will enable you to duel as if the leg were uninjured. The downside is that you can cause more damage to the limb if you're not careful. That's why when I told Terry about it, I called it an emergency spell, it's not something you want to use everyday."

Hermione gave him a look that clearly said the conversation wasn't over with yet, then she turned back to Terry. "I know you feel bad right now, Terry, but you are helping us tremendously. Please don't feel like you're not contributing."

"She's right, Terry," Harry added. "Your work with Caleb is invaluable. And until you brought it up, no one among us thought about the problems of feeding our troops while we waited. That could have been more than embarrassing."

Susan reached out and grabbed Terry's hand, gripping it tightly in her own. "I don't know about the war, but I know I couldn't do this alone, Terry. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I like knowing my husband is going to be there for me," she said quietly.

Terry smiled at her and lifted her hand to his lips.

Harry smiled. "Alright then, we meet in the portal room tonight at ten. Dress in dark clothing."

Hogwarts Castle...

Peeves rummaged through the box, his mood turning slightly less happy.

"Well?" asked Vex.

"Potions," Peeves spat in disgust, holding up a bottle.

"What potions?" asked Hacks.

Peeves peered at the bottle in his hand, checking the label. The picture on the label looked interesting.

Weasley Wizarding Wheezes
Flaming Flatulence.
Just 3 Drops in your friends food will make their farts explode!

"Exploding poop, me think," Peeves said dubiously.

"How?"

"Says just add three in food," Peeves replied.

"Is there three?" asked Vex, looking intrigued.

Peeves turned and rooted around in the box, finding two more potion bottles containing the same label.

"I have three!" he proclaimed loudly.

The five poltergeists grinned and faded from sight. They were off to the Death Eater Kitchen.

Hogwarts Outbuilding #2, Cafeteria...

Hex lifted the lid on the pot of stew. The cooks were off chasing Miffs, who had been caught peeing in the large coffee urn.

Peeves uncorked the first bottle and poured it in. Hex started laughing and Peeves shot him an angry glare. "Not yet! I need to pour three!" he told his brother.

Hex nodded and snickered quietly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah... More!"

Peeves nodded and smashed the empty bottle, dropping the shards of glass into the stew, as well. Within three minutes, the stew contained a lethal dose of the Flaming Flatulence potion. Dinner was about to heat up.

The poltergeists then faded from view, just as the cooks returned to the kitchen grumbling about the poltergeists and the need to clean the coffee pot.

"Get that stew out to dining room," growled the head cook, unimaginatively named Cooky. The man had an ugly temper and a reputed fondness for knives that kept the other cooks wary of him.

Two helpers rushed forward and grabbed the large pot, taking it out to the dining room. They returned a moment later with an empty stew pot.

"Get that bread out of the oven before it burns, you morons," shouted Cooky. "I'm going to check outside."

Cooky left the kitchen, causing everyone to breath a sigh of relief.

In the dining room the stew was being ladled into bowls and handed out to anyone wanting it. Cooky might have a foul temper, but he was an excellent cook and many of the Death Eaters enjoyed his stew.

The cook stood to one side, his arms crossed, watching in satisfaction as dinner was served.

Dustin Johan was a dull, small minded man. He was exactly what the Dark Lord looked for in a Death Eater; a follower, not a leader, and in no way an independent thinker. He had just come off a grueling twelve hour training shift and was looking forward to a meal and several hours of uninterrupted sleep.

He spooned some of the stew up and chewed, all the while wondering about the unusual taste. Cooky must be trying something new. It wasn't bad, just a little more spicy than Cooky normally served. He paused when his stomach rumbled ominously. He looked around in relief. No one seemed to have noticed. Then it rumbled again, only louder and more violently.

His arse puckered and a small amount of gas escaped. Gas was a normal occurrence at meals and usually ignored. This time, however, the gas ignited. In pain, Dustin tried to stand. The effort forced a large bubble of gas through his intestines. When it made contact with the air, it ignited and his upward momentum continued with such force, his feet left the floor. He screamed in pain and fear, then smashed into the ceiling.

There was a moment of shocked silence in the cafeteria and all eyes turned towards Dustin, still pinned to the ceiling by the exhaust from his own personal rocket engine. Then, like most rocket mishaps, he exploded, violently.

Cooky stared dumbfounded as, one by one, Death Eaters expelled foul smelling gas and launched themselves into the ceiling in a shower of smoke and flame. The unlucky ones were those trapped by the ceiling. For a lucky few, sitting under the skylights, they were treated to the experience of a lifetime as they lifted into low Earth orbit.

The event in the dining room continued for three more minutes before the building, unable to contain the mix of volatile gases, exploded in a fiery ball. Fifty Death Eaters and the entire kitchen staff were killed in the blast.

From the Astronomy tower, five poltergeists watched and applauded. The red headed weasel twins would be so proud! Peeves thought.

The Chamber of Secrets, Hogwarts Castle...

Harry stepped through the portal and looked at Hermione, who was holding his hand tightly. She didn't like the portal travel, but it was faster than a portkey and not nearly as much of a problem for him.

She looked around curiously. It was her first trip back to the school since their frantic escape, nearly a year ago. She shivered and he placed an arm around her.

"He can't sense us down here. It will only be when we're in the tunnels that we'll need to be especially careful," he told her quietly.

She nodded and looked at the others clustering around them. The chamber was large and poorly lit, and the sound of dripping water echoed through it. All in all, the room was downright spooky. Each person was intimately aware that they were only a few hundred feet from the most dangerous person on the planet.

"LIGHTS!" Harry hissed in parseltongue.

The torches around the room flared to life, throwing back the darkness. Tonks shivered and glared at Harry. "I hate it when you speak in that language," she said.

He laughed. "I'm sorry, Tonks, but the room responds to parsel magic only. This is Slytherin's chamber, or was. It now belongs to the Outcasts."

The rest of his friends grinned at the reference to what they'd once called themselves.

"Harry, what is that?" Hermione said, pointing to the table with the power crystal glowing on it.

He looked where she pointed. "That's the crystal I charged with magic. It's providing an anchor for the ghosts."

Hermione looked at the crystal, then looked at Remus. who shrugged his shoulders.

"You should be used to this by now, Hermione," he said, his eyes dancing.

She nodded and shot Harry a hurt look.

"What did I do?" he protested.

"You... you.... oh!" Hermione sputtered. Turning, she walked away from him, muttering about husbands violating the laws of magic.

"I thought it was a wife's job to keep her husband off guard?" Dan asked Emma.

"Yes, dear, that's what it says in the handbook," she replied.

"One of you forgot to tell those two, then. They seem to have have their roles reversed," he told her, grinning.

"Wait a second? There's a handbook?" asked Harry.

"Didn't you get yours?" Draco drawled with a perfectly straight face.

Harry looked at him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Ha ha. It might have worked, but Draco can't tell a joke to save his life," he said, shaking his head.

Draco pretended to look offended, while the others laughed.

"Alright," Harry said as the laughter died away, "let's get this show going, I'd like to get home and crawl into bed at a reasonable hour."

The two groups split apart, and Draco, Luna and Neville followed Harry out of the entrance to the chamber. Reaching the side passage in the exterior cavern, the group paused.

"No more magic from this point," he said as he opened a bag and pulled out several torches.

The passage Harry led them through twisted and turned. At several points it they had to carefully crawl over rubble to continue moving forward. They could use their medallions to portkey back to Haven if they ran into any trouble, but they were out from under the chamber's Fidelius charm now. Nearly any external magic they used would be picked up.

Back in the chamber, the rest of the Brotherhood were busy interviewing the ghosts. It was the first time Dan and Emma had been exposed to ghosts and they were amazed by the spirits.

"So you went to school with Hermione?" Emma asked Penelope. She wasn't sure how to talk to these spirits.

Penelope smiled, as if remembering something fondly. "I was a few years ahead of them, but I remember Harry and Hermione pretty well. At the time, I was dating Percy Weasley."

"Do... do... do you miss being alive?" asked Emma.

Penelope nodded. "Yes, I do. But the Baron has taken it upon himself to teach me all he can about being a ghost. It's not a bad life, when it's all you have and I've learned to accept it. I wish things could have been different, but that wasn't my fate."

Dan watched Emma's conversation for a moment before he joined Ginny, who was talking to Sir Nicholas.

"Tell me about the towers, Sir Nicholas. Are they housing any Death Eaters?" asked Ginny.

Sir Nicholas straightened his head and grinned. "We chased them out of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but they're still using Slytherin and Ravenclaw."

"How many live in the castle?" asked Dan. When Ginny jumped in surprise, he grinned ruefully at her. "Sorry," he said softly.

Sir Nicholas eyed Dan warily.

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, meet Dan Granger, Hermione's father," Ginny offered. "Mr. Granger, this is Sir Nicholas, or sometimes called Nearly Headless Nick."

"Nearly Headless?" Dan exclaimed.

"Yes," Sir Nicholas replied sadly. "I'm afraid the headless hunt is still refusing my membership."

Ginny giggled and shook her head. "Perhaps next year, Sir Nicholas."

Sir Nicholas smiled. "Yes, there is always next year."

Dan's eyes seemed fixed on Nick's neck. His head kept sliding to one side, held on by a few tendons and some skin. Finally, he shook his head and looked away.

"Er, so back to my question, Sir Nicholas. How many live..."

The Forbidden Forest...

Harry paused and looked up the passage nervously. Other than the torches and small utility knives, they had no real weapons, except for their magic and their hands. They had been trained in hand to hand fighting, but that sort of fighting was useless for what lay ahead. He made a mental note that he should talk to Caleb about training with some muggle weapons. He was certain a gun would be mighty handy right about now.

He turned to the others. "I think we need to turn back."

"Why?" asked Draco. "We're near the end. I can feel a stronger breeze and the passage ahead is lightening."

"Draco, it's night out. It shouldn't be lighter. What you're seeing is the white of Acromantula webs."

Draco gulped nervously and fingered the knife on his belt.

"Oh, don't be silly," Luna exclaimed. "They're only spiders." She pushed past them and hurried down the passage.

"Luna!" Draco called, bolting after her.

The three men rushed after Luna, who ran up the last fifty feet of the passage and stepped outside into a small clearing.

All around them the trees were filled with spider silk. Seconds later, the clicking, chittering sounds of the large, dog-sized spiders surrounded them. They were everywhere!

"I don't think this is a good idea," Neville muttered, holding his torch up high. The spiders were climbing down from the trees. The path to the cavern had been blocked and none of them wanted to lead the spiders back into the cavern.

"You think?" asked Draco sardonically. He stood close to Luna, one hand holding his small knife, the other brandishing his torch at the closing spiders.

"Oh, stop that and bring me your king!" Luna snapped at a spider that got too close.

The spider halted and flinched back from her. The other creatures froze and Harry turned in a circle, holding his torch high. Just as they'd thought, they were surrounded by hundreds of the arachnids.

Several spiders scurried away, clicking and chittering as they went.

Several tense minutes later, an enormous spider approached. Others scurried out of the way, making room for the larger creature to enter the circle.

"Gaia's child, I greet thee," said the large spider. "I am called Sleeg, king of this place. Why have you come into our range? Do you bring these creatures as offerings?"

"Not bloody likely," Harry muttered as he stepped forward. "Where is Aragog?"

"Aragog has passed. His time was over and I, Sleeg, Aragog's son, now rule here. I know you, friend of Hagrid. Even Hagrid is no longer welcome in our range."

"I don't want to fight you, Sleeg. We are not here for that purpose, but we will defend ourselves," Harry said ominously.

Sleeg took a step forward, then recoiled from Harry. "AIIEEEE! You have the beast in your veins!"

Luna stepped forward and placed a hand on Harry's arm. She knew he was coming close to using magic. Fuzz whirred in warning, although only Fuzz knew who she was warning.

"This is my friend and brother. He killed your enemy during Aragog's reign. These others are also friends, and my mate. We do not wish to anger or disturb you, but we are seeking places from which we can attack the evil in the castle. Soon, a great many wizards will be here and there will be a battle. We are scouts, looking for places we can use in our attack."

"You will cleanse the shadow that covers the land?" asked Sleeg.

Luna nodded. "We will. My brother," she said, touching Harry's shoulder, "will lead his armies against the dark ones and chase them from this land. We wish only to be allowed passage unhindered."

Sleeg backed up a few feet and crouched low while dozens of spiders chittered and clicked around him.

"What is he doing?" Neville asked.

"He's consulting with some of the elders," Luna replied.

Neville shook his head and marveled at Luna. The spiders seriously creeped him out. Why she wasn't close to gibbering in terror was beyond him. He certainly felt like doing so!

Finally, Sleeg rose up again and moved forward. "A debt is owed to the slayer of the beast. When the time comes, we will aid Gaia's friends and show them the way through the forest. We shall also alert the other denizens, who will come to help. There is a large clearing not far from here that you can use to assemble your army. It belongs to a clan of half horses. We will tell them of your coming."

Luna smiled prettily at the spider and patted it above the eyes. "We thank you, Sleeg. It is good to know that Aragog's children are honorable."

Sleeg pulled back out of the circle. Within seconds, all of the spiders were gone and everyone slowly relaxed.

"Merciful Merlin! I don't want to go through that again," Draco said with a shudder. Then he looked at Harry, his expression puzzled. "What did he mean by having the beast in your veins?"

Harry shrugged. "When I rescued Ginny and killed the basilisk, it bit me. Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, saved me, but I'll always have a little basilisk venom and phoenix tears in my blood now. " Turning away, he looked at the cave entrance. "Come on. We still have that other passage to check out."

"Wait, Harry," Luna said. Taking a few steps away from them, she knelt on the ground and scraped away an area of the underbrush until she found dirt.

Taking her knife, she drew a rune in the dirt, then cut her finger. She dripped several drops of blood onto the rune, then put her knife away. Standing, she turned back and walked into the passage, leaving the men mystified.

They hurried to follow her, never noticing the rune glowing softly behind them.

Maidens, South Ayrshire, Scotland...

The collective was diminishing. Every member could feel it and for the first time in memory, which spanned nearly two millennia, they felt fear. The Dark One had insisted that the collective hunt with the soulless ones. It was the first time they had hunted with another species and it added to their uneasiness.

The Leader gestured and the collective came to a stop on the small rise overlooking the town below. These little towns were more self sufficient than the big cities and had been less affected by the upheavals that wracked the country. As a result, their populations didn't fluctuate as much.

The Leader looked around. Surrounding him were the forty members of his hunting party, and the thirty soulless ones that followed in their wake, consuming what they left behind.

Down the hill and only a short distance away, the humans of Maidens sat around a communal fire in the town square, singing. It looked like the entire town had turned out for some sort of celebration. There must have been hundreds of them! The Leader shook slightly as it felt the uncontrollable urge to feast race through it.

In it's hunger, the Leader overlooked the warning signs as it gestured to the collective. With a hissing cry, the dementors surged down the hill. A moment later, the vampires followed.

No one was exactly sure what caused the feeling, but by late afternoon the townspeople of Maiden were celebrating. Two score of men collected wood to build a massive box fire in the square, while the women prepared what food they had. The fisherman had long given up their gas powered engines and returned to their roots, rigging their boats with sails. The small fleet was met by a happy crowd when it returned to port with their catch.

Small cook fires dotted the square and the townsfolk mingled and shared what they had with their neighbors. Small children ran and played among the adults, unaware of the danger that lurked not far away.

The large box fire had been burning only a short while when the town was suddenly bathed in a startling bright light.

The dementors recoiled in shock and fear when, from the roofs of nearby buildings, Angels unfurled their wings and took to the air. The very sky seemed to erupt in light.

Children ran to their parents and the men rushed to gather in front of their families, protecting them. The muggles couldn't see the Angels or the Dementors, but they could see the Vampires that screamed in the intense bright light and burst into flame.

To add to their confusion, when an Angel consumed a dementor, there was an explosion of black dust and a ragged black cloak fluttered to the ground. Above the spot, for a brief instant, the souls consumed by the dementor became visible as pinpricks of rainbow colored light before crossing over.

For one family in the square, their moment of terror came and passed in a flash, leaving them relieved, but confused. They were a wizarding family that had been living in Maidens for generations. They saw the Dementors, and the Vampires and knew exactly how close they had come to death. They also saw the Angels and marveled at their luck.

The Leader halted and turned, trying to escape back up the hill. But it was too late. An Angel swooped down and caught it in her grip. Her wings enclosed the evil creature, cocooning it in light and her magic lifted her high in the air. The song she sang was uplifting enough to make a Phoenix weep with envy. A moment later, her wings unfurled and the remains of the Leader exploded outwards in a cloud of black dust and the cloak fluttered to the ground.

In less than five minutes, the attack was over. The Angels had been responsible for releasing hundreds of trapped souls. They floated over the town of Maiden, celebrating in an aerial dance for nearly another hour.

Then, as one, they turned toward the north. They were needed. They could hear the call.

From the rooftops, nearly twenty smaller Angels took flight, following their parents.

Gringotts, Stonewall Lane, Dublin (March 9th)...

"Welcome, Lord Potter. Please, come in," Ragnok said, waving Harry and his companions into the large conference room.

Harry led Hermione, Remus and Draco into the large room. They all sat down on the chairs indicated, close to Ragnok and a group of goblins.

"May this meeting bring us all nothing but profit," Harry murmured in greeting, causing the goblins present to grin at him. It was a traditional goblin greeting, even if Harry said it in English, rather than Gobbledegook.

Ragnok bowed from his seat. "You honor us, my lord. Our business relationship has far exceeded our expectations. If we meet today for reasons other than profit, I hope you will forgive us."

Harry's brow furrowed. Hermione was watching their investments and hadn't told him how things were going lately. "So the portals are doing well, then?"

Ragnok grinned toothlessly at him. "Very well, my lord."

He glanced at Hermione, who seemed a little embarrassed.

"I thought you weren't interested in knowing, Harry. You never seem all that concerned about money," she told him.

He shrugged. "I'm not. Not at the moment, anyway. I trust you and Remus to make sure we have enough. To be honest, my primary interest in the portals is for use in the war. What happens with them on the side, or after the war, is a secondary concern."

Ragnok nodded and looked at his advisor, Gapsit, as if to say, "I told you so."

"My lord, if I may interrupt? The war is the primary reason why we asked you here today."

Harry turned back to Ragnok. "Oh?"

Ragnok nodded to Gapsit, who stood and walked over to large map. On the map, several cities were circled.

"In the past month we've noticed breeches in the security domes at several of our branch offices, including Glasgow, Birmingham and Cardiff. I don't know if you are aware, but each of these offices have their own access to our track system. In each case, several minor vaults were pilfered before we closed and sealed access to the track from those offices."

Harry frowned. "So Voldemort's forces are trying to break into the track?"

"Unfortunately, that appears to be the case, my lord," Ragnok said. He nodded to Gapsit, who sat back down. "What my colleague failed to mention was that reconnecting the track to those branches requires extensive magic, and the willing sacrifice of a goblin life.

"The track doesn't exist under any particular branch office. It is contained... elsewhere. Each office with access has a clever set of spells to make it look as though you are entering the track when, in fact, you are performing a dimensional transport to the real track."

Ragnok paused and scowled. He leaned back on his chair and looked at Harry for a minute before continuing. "The Goblin Nation is angry, my lord. We have returned to the remaining branches with track access and have reinforced our wards. But we are angry. At least three families will have to give up a member to return those branch offices to full operational status. We goblins feel that if Lord Voldemort and his forces are going to do this to us, then we can no longer remain neutral."

Harry sat up straight in his chair and blinked in surprise. He exchanged a glance with Draco and Remus, then conjured some parchment and a quill.

"I have to admit, I thought Voldemort would make a move against Gringotts eventually," Harry murmured. "We'd heard some rumors about the assaults on one of the branch offices."

"My lord, can you tell us about your plans? The Goblin Nation is willing to put our warriors into the field, but it would be best if we coordinate our efforts," Gapsit replied.

Harry leaned back in his chair and smiled. "We have plans I think you and your warriors would be well suited for. A few days ago, we finished scouting the area around Hogwarts. We have located several access points where we plan on setting up portals to bring in our assault forces.

"I do not expect your warriors to be involved in the assault on the castle, unless you wish to be. Where we could use your help, however, will be with one of the diversionary fights, in Diagon Alley."

"Harry, are you sure you should be talking about this?" asked Remus worriedly.

"I think it's an acceptable risk, Remus, both as commander of the Brotherhood Brigade and as Ambassador," Harry replied evenly. "We owe a debt of thanks to the Goblin Nation. They could have supported Voldemort, but they didn't."

"At least check with Amelia," Remus cautioned.

Harry sighed and dug into his pocket. "Very well," he grumbled. A moment later, he pulled out his portable floo and flipped the cap up. The flame lit, burning a bright green.

Ragnok watched the exchange with interest.

"Amelia Bones," he said sharply into the flame.

"Harry?" came a surprised, but tinny reply.

"Amelia, good, are you alone?"

"I'm here with Arthur Weasley, why?"

"Arthur's alright, Amelia. Set up a privacy ward and let me know when it's set."

Harry smiled apologetically to Ragnok while he waited.

"Alright, Harry, it's set. Now, what's going on?"

"Amelia, I'm sitting in Gringotts with Lord Ragnok and his chief advisor, Gapsit. They have informed me that they are considering dropping their neutrality."

"Are you serious?" screeched the tinny voice.

Harry laughed. "Completely, Amelia. Listen, in my official capacity as Ambassador, I would like to invite Ragnok to meet with you as soon as possible. I would also like to invite the commander of their force to our Allied forces staff meeting later this month."

"Yes, yes! Of course! I'd be happy to receive Ragnok anytime," she nearly shouted into the floo.

Harry grinned at Remus, then turned back to his floo. "Thanks. Amelia. I'll talk to you later today." He snapped his floo closed and looked at Remus.

"It pays to check with the boss, Harry," the older man said, smiling.

Harry chuckled and turned back to Ragnok. "Well, that's settled. We'll be having a meeting of the commanders later this month. We will be talking about our battle plans then. In the meantime, my lord, on behalf of my government, I'd like to extend our thanks to you and your people. If I have anything to say about it, when this is over, I will do my best to ensure equal relations between our two peoples."

Hermione reached under the table and rested a hand on his thigh. He could feel her pride and love surging through the bond. She'd never realized that his upbringing would make him so receptive to the idea of equality among the intelligent non-human species.

"We have heard about your defense of that house elf, my lord. We have no doubt that you will remain a Goblin friend for a long time to come. I will contact Minister Bones and arrange for our meeting. If you contact me with the date and time for the commanders meeting, I will make sure our commander attends," Ragnok replied.

Harry nodded and tried very hard not to smile. The Goblins were going to war!

Haven School, (March 12th)...

The unused classroom was warm and lit with a multitude of candles. In the center of the room was a low table surrounded by rugs and large, colorful pillows. The table was set for dinner, with a bottle of wine chilling in a silver bucket.

Millicent's eyes widened and she turned to Deneb, who had just closed and locked the door behind them. "What's going on?"

Deneb smiled softly. "Happy Birthday." He took her hand and led her to the table. "I've been planning this for days now. The school elves were a lot of help."

She stopped and glared at him. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

"You know I've been interested in you for awhile," he told her gently. "After our talk back in January, I made it a point to learn everything I could about you. That included when your birthday was. I wanted to surprise you."

Millicent scowled. "What did you do? Sneak into McGonagall's office and look up my file? I'm not sure I like the idea of you digging into my life, Thorntree."

"I didn't look at your file, Millie. I simply asked Chloe when your birthday was. I'm not sure where she got the information. It's entirely possible that she looked at your file to find out," he said, his eyes dancing.

When she continued to scowl at him, he sighed and raised her hand. Turning it over, he kissed her palm softly. When her expression softened, he smiled. "I wanted to do something special for you, to show you how much I care about you. We've been so busy the last few months that we haven't had a lot of time for ourselves."

She looked down at their joined hands and shook her head. "I'm not used to this sort of thing, Deneb," she muttered. "I'm not girly, or feminine, or whatever it's called."

He tugged her hand, pulling her closer. "Some guys like that sort of thing in their woman. I don't. I want a woman who's strong and intelligent. I want someone who can challenge me and keep me on my toes." He wrapped both arms around her, drawing her closer. "I won't lie to you or play games with you. You are what I want, Millicent."

She looked into his eyes, searching for the truth.

"Believe it," he said softly. Bending slightly, he brushed his lips gently across hers.

"I do believe you," she whispered. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Deneb."

"I understand." Stepping away, he took her hand once more and drew her to the table. "Now, the house elves and I worked very hard on this. You don't want to ruin it by letting it get cold, do you?"

She smiled when he helped her to sit down on one of the large floor pillows. Once he was seated next to her, she reached out and took his hand.

"Thank you," she said simply.

He brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his hand. "You're welcome. Now, let's eat. The house elves prepared a feast, so you shouldn't feel the need to snack on any of the school's owls."

"For tonight, at least," she said with a devilish grin.

When he shuddered, her laughter rang out through the room. Hearing it, Deneb smiled. She didn't laugh often enough, in his opinion.

Camp Outhouse, Haven (March 15th)...

Harry hated the name, but once it had been explained to him, he understood it. Chuck Stanton, the commander of the American and Canadian forces, had given the place an informal name and it stuck like glue. It didn't help that part of the American team had sneaked into the camp one night and charmed a half moon on every door.

Harry walked behind Caleb, who was showing the camp off to Minister Bones and Minister Mallory of Ireland. Joining them were Sven Johansen, Mayor of Haven, Michael O'Dalley and Sylvia August.

"Each building, of which we have one hundred and fifty, is capable of housing fifty people," Caleb said proudly.

The buildings looked like small, single stall outhouses. The interior of each building was magically enlarged to room fifty people comfortably. They also contained bathrooms, showers and a small dining area.

"How many will the camp hold?" asked Mallory.

"Currently, the capacity of the camp is roughly seventy five hundred, but we are able to quickly throw up new buildings now that we have the charms down pat. Between our forces and the muggles, we'll be putting nearly one hundred thousand into the field." Caleb said softly.

Sylvia whistled under her breath and Mallory turned to her.

"Is there a problem, Healer August?"

"Yes... er... No. Well, maybe. With these numbers, I'm just concerned about our ability to handle wounded. Deputy Minister Newman is talking about quite a lot of people."

"That isn't as much of a problem as you might think, Sylvia," offered Harry. "The muggles will be using their own hospital facilities on the continent and at sea. I don't expect you'll be seeing a lot of muggle patients. As far as wizards go, we're putting less than ten thousand into battle. And the Americans are revamping the same camp they used for our rescue, for wounded."

"Still, it's a lot of potential wounded, my lord," August replied quietly.

"It is," Caleb said, then his expression hardened. "But you'll only be treating our people."

Sylvia looked up at him in alarm. "What?" she exclaimed.

"Sylvia, we can't take prisoners," Harry said gently. "We won't have the force to look after them, and they can't leave Britain without me pulling down the ward. I don't expect to be pulling that ward down for quite a number of months yet, if ever."

Mallory looked at Harry in surprise. "You'll be leaving the ward up?"

"Actually, we talked about that the other day," Amelia said, jumping into the conversation. "We want to make sure that we pick up the bulk of the Death Eaters. Keeping the ward in place will make sure they won't be able to run."

Mallory nodded thoughtfully, but Sylvia looked appalled. "But what about everyone else?"

"The muggles?" asked Harry.

Sylvia nodded.

"There's not much we can do for them, Sylvia. We're going to be hard pressed to help any wizards we find," Harry replied tensely.

"Sylvia, I know it isn't much, but we have several buildings like these that we'll be moving in after our fight. The Americans are allocating a two hundred man medical battalion to man them as field hospitals," Caleb offered. "I don't expect them to be up and running for a day or two, though."

"I suppose I could contact the Irish hospitals," Sylvia murmured softly.

"That's already been done," Harry said. "And we're stock piling potions by the ton. You see the camp. What you don't see are the storerooms with tons of supplies. Potions, bandages, weapons, spare wands, clothing, field kitchens, you name it, it's there."

Sven watched quietly for a moment longer, then he waved at the row after row of small buildings. "This many troops in Haven, we must keep secret, yes?"

Caleb nodded unhappily. "Yes. That's why we brought you out here. so you could see the camp for yourself and understand why we need your help with this."

Sven nodded unhappily. "Keeping secret for a few days we can do. A week? Longer? The longer we go, the harder it becomes."

"He's right, my lord," O'Dalley said to Harry. "We can put up a ward preventing owls from leaving for a few days. We can even close off the apparation point and shut down floo access for a few days, but that is about the most we can get away with."

Harry and Caleb exchanged a worried glance.

Harry turned to Sven and O'Dalley. "Can you give us three days?" he asked.

The two men looked at each other. Sven knew he would have to provide the excuses to the townspeople, but it would be O'Dalley who would have to do most of the work.

Finally, O'Dalley nodded cautiously. "We can do three days, but what excuse can we give for cutting off the town from the outside world?"

Sylvia shrugged. "Tell them we have an outbreak of Dragon Lung. That will scare outsiders away and keep the townspeople in their homes for the time you need."

Everyone grinned. Dragon Lung was an infectious, deadly disease, unless it was treated on time. Even with treatment available, most people didn't want to catch the illness, as the cough it caused was extremely painful.

"Sounds like a good plan," Caleb murmured.

"We may not be able to give you much lead time, Michael. Can you set everything up ahead of time?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I can, but I'll need your help, my lord. You still hold the keys to most of the wards around Haven. For optimal results, you should hold the warding keys for this, as well."

"Anything you need, just ask," Harry told him.

"Well, now that that's settled, humor me, Deputy Minister Newman, and show me some of these tons of supplies you're stockpiling," Sylvia said.

"Of course, Healer August. If you would all follow me?" Caleb asked, leading them to one end of Camp Outhouse.

Padfoot Manor, (March 17th)...

Harry limped into the bedroom. Hermione looked up from their small breakfast table where she was working on some Arithmancy for Remus and frowned. She stood and walked over to his side, watching him move unsteadily.

"Did you eat dinner?" she asked.

"I had a sandwich at the commissary," he replied tiredly. His leg was aching badly today.

Her frown deepened. "Harry, you've been on the go since we returned from France and you're not eating properly. You need to slow down."

He collapsed on a chair by the table and kneaded his leg absently. "It can't be helped. I have to get the Brigade ready and I'm helping with the attack planning. And today we had that meeting of the allied commanders," he told her as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Dobby," Hermione called.

Dobby appeared with a small pop and looked at the two anxiously.

"Dobby, Harry needs a decent supper, then I think a long, hot soak."

The elf nodded and vanished again.

Harry opened one eye and looked up at her. "Are you ordering me around?" he asked incredulously.

She folded her arms across her chest. "I'm allowed. I outrank you."

He smiled slightly. "How do you figure that? I'm your Colonel and your Maglios."

"Yeah, but I'm your wife. That outranks everything else."

Harry opened both eyes and smiled to himself.

Dobby appeared with Winky and put food on the table.

"Master Harry Potter needs to eat more!" Winky exclaimed. "You is lucky that Mistress cares. You could waste away and be sicks all day long without Mistress watching over you. I swear, you nearly as insane as your elf!"

Hermione grinned at Winky, and nearly laughed out loud when Dobby flinched.

Harry looked at the food being spread out before him and hungrily dug in. The sandwich at the Operations Center was not enough to keep him going.

Hermione sat across from him, watching him eat, satisfied that he was willing to listen to her. It wasn't that he did it deliberately, it was just that he tended to get so busy that he forgot to take care of himself.

"I went by the Portals factory after the Brigade post this afternoon," she said. He started to say something, but she waved him silent.

"Eat, I'll talk for now. Anyway, the twins asked me to stop by. They were having a problem storing their Sun Bangers, but I think we've got it worked out now. It looks like we'll be able to issue at least four to everyone we put in the field."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at her and she smiled in return.

"They ended up using more of the Portal plant capacity than they thought they would, didn't they?" he sent her.

She frowned. She thought that mental speech while eating was bad manners, but she wasn't sure.

"Yes they did, but it's for a good cause."

"I'm not arguing that, love. I don't mind. It doesn't seem to have hurt the production of Portals any, and we're going to need those weapons if vampires show up in significant numbers."

Hermione looked worried. "Is that possible?"

He put his fork on his plate and swallowed. "We just don't know. That was one of the things we did today at the meeting; a force analysis. Our estimates on the vampires Voldemort has available range from a few hundred to over a thousand, depending on who you ask," he replied.

She sucked in her breath. A thousand vampires would be a significant force and difficult to beat, even with the weapons developed by the Twins.

After dinner, Harry walked into the bath and sank into the large tub, relaxing in the hot water. Dobby had added his scented bath salts, and the room smelled of sandalwood. He leaned back, resting his head on the edge of the tub and closed his eyes. A moment later, he heard the door open as Hermione entered.

He opened one eye and watched as she disrobed. Her beauty still took his breath away.

She slid into the water opposite him, then reached out and gently pulled his sore leg into her lap where she could massage it. "So, you attended nearly a full day's worth of meetings, then tried to squeeze in your own training?"

He groaned slightly at her ministrations and nodded. "Can't have the brigade commander unable to keep up with his own people, love," he told her.

She nodded to herself, but she knew they were both dancing around the real issue.

Soon they would attack Hogwarts and if he could arrange it, he would be fighting Voldemort. It was the culmination of more than a year's efforts and it terrified them both, for different reasons.

"You've been training since summer after fifth year, Harry. I don't think anyone, especially your brigade, will think any less of you if you miss a training day now and then," she chided. "Just about everyone will tell you that you're in excellent shape if you don't believe me."

He lifted his head and peered at her. "Alright, Hermione, stopping beating around the bush. Just say it."

She pushed his leg off her lap and glared at him. "Fine. You're being stupid again."

He winced. "Well, that was to the point," he muttered.

She sighed. "Harry, in the past week you've barely let yourself have four hours sleep a night. I let you get away with it because you were preparing for that meeting of the commanders, but I'm not going to let you do that until we leave. You put me in charge of the brigade command post and that includes you! A command post without a working commander is just a building."

He raised his hands in surrender and she moved closer to him, nearly sitting in his lap.

"Alright, alright. I'm too tired to argue anyway," he conceded.

She slowly straddled him, reaching between their bodies with one hand. "Good," she replied impishly. "I intend to put you to bed after I wear you out."

Weasley Cottage, (March 20th)...

Arthur Weasley stood in front of his bedroom mirror and straightening his robe once more. He was nervous and there was no way he could hide it.

He'd called a family meeting several nights ago to inform them of his plans. He hadn't been seeking their approval, but had wanted to discuss any problems his children might have with what he was planning to do. Surprisingly, there had been none. Charlie had been the real worry for him, but his second oldest had calmly informed him that all he wanted was for Arthur to be happy.

Of course, the twins had then mobbed their older brother, pretending to weep over how mature he had become, and the tension had been broken. Dinner afterwards had been a lively affair, and Arthur had never been more proud of his children as he watched them tease and joke with each other. His family, while smaller now, was closer than ever.

"Are you ready, dad?"

Turning, Arthur smiled at Bill, who stood in the doorway. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, tugging at his robe again.

"You might want to comb your hair," his son told him, grinning.

"Oh, right!"

As his father rushed into the bathroom, Bill shook his head. "And put on some shoes," he called.

"Right, shoes. Mustn't forget them."

When Arthur returned to the bedroom and put on his shoes, Bill walked over to him and fixed his collar. "You know, you'd probably do this better if you'd just calm down a bit."

"Says the man who's never proposed to a woman before," Arthur muttered.

"I came close," Bill told him.

"What?" Arthur exclaimed. "When? Who?"

"Fleur Delacour, just before all hell broke loose in Britain. She's back in France now, and we write each other often. When the war is over, we're both hoping to pick up were we left off."

Arthur squeezed his son's shoulder in understanding. "No war last forever, Bill. The Delacour's are a fine family. Her father is now the Minister for France, trying to clean up the source of the corruption in both governments. He's a good, honest man."

"I've met him. Fleur has his personality, but her mother's looks."

"Part Veela?"

"And how," Bill replied with a wolfish grin.

Arthur laughed. "Good luck with that!"

A small pop sounded in the room and both men turned toward it. A small elf stepped forward and frowned.

"Mister Minster, all do be ready. Melinda do be home at any time," Dilly told him firmly.

Seeing his father's shoulders tense, Bill shook his head. "Relax, dad. Everything will work out."

"I hope you're right, son." Turning to the elf, Arthur smiled. "I'll meet you there, Dilly. And thank you for everything you've done."

The elf smiled. "You do be welcome, Mister Minister. Dilly will be seeing you soon. Don't be late!"

When the elf popped away, Arthur took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not sure when I'll be back," he warned his son.

"If you're not back tonight, we'll assume the best," Bill told him. "Now, you better get going before Dilly comes back and drags you over there."

Arthur grimaced. "She would, too. She's a bossy little thing. Thank Merlin she's on our side."

"Stop stalling. Go," Bill said, stepping back a few paces. "Good luck, dad."

"Thanks, Bill. I'll see you later." Patting his pockets to make sure he had everything, he then nodded to his son and disappeared.

Melinda McKinny's cottage, moments later...

Arthur apparated into the living room of the small cottage and looked around. "Dilly?" he called.

The elf appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and smiled. "Melinda do be home any time now, Mister Minister. All do be ready and Dilly will be waiting if you do be needing anything."

"Thanks, Dilly. I couldn't have done this without your help."

The elf's eyes widened suddenly and she clapped her hands. "Melinda do be coming! Hurry!"

Panic seized Arthur as he rushed to the kitchen. It's just dinner, he tried telling himself. It didn't work, of course, but he tried. When he heard the door to the cottage open, he snatched the glasses from the beautifully set table and quickly filled them with wine.

When he turned back to the kitchen door, Dilly smiled at him reassuringly, then popped away.

"I wonder if this would be easier if she stayed?" he muttered to himself.

"Dilly?" Melinda called from the living room. "I'm home."

Her voice grew louder as she approached the kitchen and Arthur took several deep breaths to calm his nerves.

"Today seemed to drag by. I hope Sylvia puts me back on nights soon," Melinda said as she entered the kitchen. "I don't think I can...Arthur!" She jumped slightly and placed a hand over heart. "Merlin, you startled me!"

"I'm sorry," he told her as he approached. "That wasn't my intent. Here, have a glass of wine." He shoved the glass at her and grimaced when some of the contents splashed over the rim.

"Um, thanks," she said, taking the glass and looking around the kitchen. "Were we going to have dinner tonight?" she asked, looking at the laden table. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I must have forgotten."

"We hadn't made plans, no. I wanted to surprise you." He gulped his wine nervously.

"It's a lovely surprise, thank you," she told him, smiling.

"Dilly helped," he informed her seriously.

"That was nice of her."

"Yes, it was. But she's a nice elf, isn't she?" he asked.

"I've always thought so." She tilted her head slightly and waited.

"Yes, a fine elf. And a good cook, too."

"Then perhaps we should sit down and eat? We wouldn't want all her hard work to go to waste, would we?"

"What? Or, right! Dinner!" he exclaimed. Reaching for her hand, he then dragged her to the table and pushed her into a chair. "She cooked all your favorites, too."

Putting her glass down on the table, she watched as he refilled his own glass and sat down next to her. When he began to fill their plates, she shook her head in bemusement.

"Arthur, is something wrong?" she asked over the rather large mound of mashed potatoes he'd all but flung onto her plate.

"Wrong? No, there's nothing wrong. What makes you think there's something wrong?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that you just put a dinner roll in your wine glass and poured gravy in mine?"

Dilly, who was eavesdropping unabashedly from her quarters behind the pantry, yanked her ears in frustration and aimed a glare toward the kitchen. "Mister Minister man best be pulling himself together," she growled. "Dilly can't be doing everything for him!"

Arthur's eyes widened as he looked at the mess he'd made. "I'm sorry," he blurted. "I wasn't paying attention. I'll get some clean glasses."

When he stood up, grabbed the dirty glasses from the table and rushed to the cabinets, she shook her head. He hadn't been this nervous around her in months.

Putting a clean glass in front of her, he reached for the wine, but she beat him to it.

"I think it would be better if I filled my own glass, don't you?" she asked.

"I can pour a glass of wine," he said, slightly hurt.

"Normally, I would agree. But your hand is trembling a bit too much for my peace of mine. I'd like to drink my wine, not wear it," she teased.

He sat down and put his head in his hands. Things weren't going as well as he'd hoped.

Placing the bottle on the table, Melinda turned to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Arthur, what's wrong? Something is obviously bothering you. I'd like to help, if you'd let me."

He shook his head and dropped his hands. Facing her, he took her hands in his and squeezed them gently. "I'm sorry, Melinda. I just wanted to share a romantic evening with you."

She smiled. "We've shared many, and you weren't nervous then. What's changed?"

"This," he said as he stood up and moved his chair out of the way. "I'd hoped to do this after dinner, but I just can't wait that long."

She watched, puzzled, as he patted himself down, obviously looking for something.

Finding what he was looking for, he pulled it out of his pocket and smiled, nervously. When he dropped down on one knee, her eyes widened.

Holding out a small, black box, he opened the lid to reveal a small, diamond ring. With a calm voice and serious eyes, he asked, "Melinda McKinny, will you marry me?"

She stared at him, shocked. "Arthur, are you sure?" she finally whispered.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he told her simply.

"Oh, Arthur!" she exclaimed as her eye filled with tears.

"Does that mean yes?" he asked hopefully, not wanting to presume.

"Yes!"

He took the ring out of the box and managed to slip it onto her finger just before she launched herself at him, taking them both to the floor.

He wanted to thank her. He wanted to tell her how happy she'd made him. He wanted to breath!

Wrapping his arms around her, he groaned as she bit his lip and thought, Maybe later...

Padfoot Manor (March 30th)...

"Damn you, Terry Boot!"

The plate smashed up against the wall and showered Terry with fragments of crockery. "Huh? What did I do?" he asked, ducking and covering his head.

He had just returned from a day at the Operations Center, where the pace bordered on chaotic, and he wondered if he should have stayed there.

"I spoke with Melinda McKinny today," Susan said between gritted teeth. "She said they may have made a mistake in my due date calculation. I may have another two weeks of this! I swear, next time around, I'm hexing you so you swell up and carry like I do!"

Terry cringed and flinched. He wondered if the French Foreign Legion was still accepting wizards. Anything would be better than living with an insane, pregnant witch. He was just glad she had regained control of her magic. The day and a half that he had endured walking around with testicles the size of cantaloupes had been one of the most uncomfortable of his life.

"Susan, calm down and relax a moment. Tell me what the healer said."

He limped over to a chair and watched her carefully. If she went for another plate, he would use his Brotherhood medallion to portkey out of the way.

Susan sighed and a tear slid down her cheek. She sat on her chair, gripping the arms tightly. "I just want this over, Terry. I want this baby out of me! My back aches all the time, my feet hurt, my boobs hurt. I'm gross and ugly!"

Terry stood and walked over to her and knelt by her chair.

"No you aren't, Susan. Now, tell me what the healer said," he prompted again.

Susan looked at her best friend, sighed and reached out and caressed his cheek. "She said that things weren't quite as advanced as they thought and that maybe they were off by a couple weeks. Everything is fine with the baby, but she thinks I won't have her until the second week in April."

Terry leaned back on his knees and thought for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to make this time easier for you?" he asked seriously.

She smiled at him. "Why do you put up with me?"

He shrugged. "Because I love you. You're having our daughter and I can't imagine a life without you. I admit you make me a little nervous at times. But all in all, I'd rather be with you, even when you're irrational, than be without you."

She sniffled and ran her hand through his hair. "It's still your fault," she said fondly.

"Yeah, I know," he replied, grinning mischievously. "But, if I remember correctly, you were telling me how much you were enjoying what I was doing at the time."

When she blushed, he laughed, then kissed her on the cheek. "You'll get through this, and I'll be there holding your hand the whole way," he murmured. Standing, he helped her to her feet and placed his palm over her belly. "Have you seen what Harry did?"

She looked at him curiously. "No, what?"

"Well, tomorrow, a couple elves will be adding a new door to the room. To a nursery. He and Hermione had the room next to ours remodeled into a nursery for when we're staying here."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her along gently. "Come on, I want you to see it."

Bemused she let him lead her from their bedroom.

Hogwarts Castle (April 1st)...

"Mulciber, what have you done outside?" asked Voldemort in a deceptively calm voice.

"I'm sorry if it offends you, my lord, but we're moving more of your servants into the area. Hogsmeade is overflowing, so we had to add additional barracks space on the castle grounds."

The Dark Lord frowned and fingered his scepter dangerously. "And why have you done this?"

"My lord, surely you've read Lucius' reports concerning Potter and his attack against you? We're bringing in every wizard we can spare to aid in the attack."

That gave Voldemort pause. He'd not been given a time frame for the attack. "Lucius believes the attack will be soon? How does he know this?"

"From the French, my lord. Lucius learned that the muggles would not jump into the war until most of our forces had been destroyed. He's learned from other sources that the muggles are very nearly ready. They have amassed an invasion fleet and an army of over one hundred thousand men," Mulciber told him.

Voldemort blinked in shock. That was more than ten times the number of men he had! "So many," he murmured to himself.

"Yes, my lord, but they won't attack if we can defeat Potter. That is why I'm bringing in more wizards. When he attacks from Hogsmeade, we will meet him and crush him."

Voldemort nodded absently and stood. He walked over to a large rune he had inscribed on the wall of the Great Hall. His scepter traced a complex pattern in the air and he chanted softly, then tapped the rune, which rang like a great bell and glowed a sickly green.

He turned to Mulciber again. "Summon the Vampire clans. I have called the Dementors. We shall amass our allies and await Potter and his 'army'. Then I will crush him. Killing Potter in front of his friends will be a pleasure, and will cause his ward to fail, releasing me and my army onto the world!"

Mulciber fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the vision his master had described. He prostrated himself before him. "I will, my lord. We will bring you victory!"

Mulciber stood and hurried from the hall. Behind him, the gathered Death Eaters were chanting "Victory!" to a smiling Voldemort.

Haven Operations Center, Briefing Theater...

"Brigade, attention!" shouted Twister.

Harry entered the theater, followed by Hermione and Draco, and the three moved to the small stage. Remus entered a moment later carrying a large box. He opened the box and started pulling out a thick sheave of parchments, which he began to pass around.

Harry walked to the center of the stage and waved for everyone to relax.

"Good morning."

A chorus of voices murmured back at him.

"I know the training tempo has been tough, of late, and it's going to get even harder for the next few days," Harry said, then he paused and nodded to Hermione.

She waved her wand and a date appeared in big bold letters, visible to everyone in the room.

"April tenth. That's our target date. We will continue training for four more days, then stand down for two days, letting you go home to your families. On the seventh, you will return to Camp Outhouse."

He tried to ignore the ripple of laughter that echoed in the room.

"Starting on the seventh, you will draw your supplies and we'll hold several classes to make sure everyone knows how to use the items we're getting from Q Branch."

Harry nodded to Hermione, who flipped up a canvas flap on an easel, revealing a map of Hogwarts and the surrounding areas. Next, she activated the pensieve, displaying the three dimensional image.

Harry waved a hand and two areas on the large rotating image started to flash.

"The maps you have been given are identical to this. The flashing areas represent our points of entry. Now, if you will bear with me for a bit, I'll give you an overview of what we're calling Operation Downfall, then explain what our role is."

Harry stood and walked over to one wall, where a large illuminated map of Britain hung.

"The ball drops at oh two hundred on April tenth, when two hundred elves begin a campaign of distracting the muggle military with some selective sabotage and acts of arson. At the same time, pathfinders will portal to the Chamber of Secrets and make their way to certain clearings we've scouted out in the forest, here and here."

Harry gestured and two points in the forest began to glow.

"The pathfinders will erect portals in those clearings. At oh four hundred, the Brotherhood Brigade and the Raiders will portal to the Chamber of Secrets beneath Hogwarts.

A large room under the castle began to glow for everyone to see.

"At the same time, the 806th Animagi division, the 5th Sorceror Infantry and 102nd Broomsticks will portal to the locations in the forest.

"Elements of the Canadian 2nd Northwest Shamans and a multinational group under Canadian command will lead two diversionary attacks starting at oh four thirty. The first attack will begin in Hogsmeade and will be assisted by another group of two hundred elves. Their purpose is to appear to be a lot bigger than they are. We want to draw the force concentrated around the castle, away from the castle and in the direction of Hogsmeade.

"The second diversionary attack will happen in London. The goblins do not name their units like we do, so all I can say is that three hundred goblins, under the command of Torngut, will attack Diagon Alley, pushing the remaining Wizarding forces away from that area before they interdict the alley.

"With the Alley secured, and the ruckus going on in Hogsmeade, we feel confident that Voldemort will commit his forces, sending them in the direction of Hogsmeade. Additionally, we believe that Voldemort himself will probably leave the castle, so he can be on hand to witness his victory."

Harry paused and grinned wolfishly at the assembled soldiers.

"As his forces move out of Hogwarts, the Brotherhood Brigade and the Raiders will leave the Chamber of Secrets. We will have the Hogwarts ghosts guiding us to our assigned positions. In the meantime, the Canadian forces in Hogsmeade will briefly engage the enemy, then pull back and portkey to Haven. Once in Haven, they will portal to Hogwarts and act as our reserve.

"With the Canadians gone, Voldemort will most likely attempt to return to Hogwarts, only to find we're now occupying it. Our job is to hold the castle, denying it to the enemy. Once we're engaged, the Americans will flank the enemy on both sides and, hopefully, pin him up against the castle walls."

Harry stopped and looked around, trying to gauge the mood of the brigade. "Questions?" he asked.

Twister grinned evilly and fingered the large knife he carried on his belt.

Allan Humbert, commander of Able company, stood. Harry nodded to the man.

"Sir, what do we expect the enemy force disposition to be?"

Harry stepped up to the edge of the stage and looked out over the sea of faces. There were nearly eight hundred people in the theater.

"For our own forces, we expect to be putting just less than eight thousand into battle. The enemy dispositions are more problematic. It is our estimate that he has five thousand wizards helping him. We are pretty certain about that number. Where our estimates break down, however, are in the number of non-human species that are helping him. We do not know the total number of dementors, vampires or other creatures with any certainty. Most of the giants are still on the continent, so they aren't a problem. On the other hand, Voldemort has a fondness for Trolls, so we may have to deal with them, as well.

He sighed and looked around. "I wish I could tell you how many of the enemy there are, but I can't. However, if the plan holds up long enough for us to occupy the castle, we'll be fighting from a secured and heavily fortified position, which always acts as a multiplier."

He paced the stage for a moment. When he stopped and began to speak quietly, those in the room strained to hear him.

"You are our very best. You have been trained to be the best. I have every confidence that when we hit Hogwarts, we'll do it on our feet and bring home a victory for our people. They deserve it, and so do you..."

Harry blushed slightly and looked at them with pride. "Your unit commanders will detail your roles in the coming days. Q Branch is issuing booklets explaining the equipment they will be handing out. I strongly advise each of you to get those booklets and read them thoroughly.

"Finally, I will remind each of you that you took a magical oath to keep our secrets. Operation Downfall is classified. Telling anyone that isn't in this room about our plans will result in a very nasty, non-reversible curse."

Harry grinned, then gathered up his papers. Remus and Draco would run the remaining part of the briefing, as commanders of Delta and Charlie companies.

"Brigade, attention!" shouted Twister.

Everyone stood as Harry walked from the room. He had another meeting to attend.

"Now, if everyone will turn to page two of the handout, you will find a detailed map of the castle, broken down by sector and areas of responsibility..." Remus began, as Hermione tapped another map with her wand.

Author's Notes:

"EEEEEEKKKKK!!!!" Screamed Alyx, then she jumped on Bob, wrestling to the ground and taking away his donut.

"Alyx," Bob whined. He stared at the comforting confection in her hands and quivered.

"No Bob! Down boy! You can't eat these. Remember what the Doctor said!" she replied.

Bob looked around for a moment, then he kicked a puppy. "Yeah, he said no food, all the good stuff gone and I have to survive on something that would starve a rabbit," he muttered.

Alyx stared at the puppy in horror. "You kicked that puppy."

Bob turned to the readers. "Send me pizza, or I'll kick the puppy again!"

Alyx jumped on Bob, tackling him to the ground. "Ignore him dear readers. Besides, we don't have a puppy."

"Alyx?"

She winced.

"Yeah?"

"How long do you think it would take to microwave our cats?"

"Just get on with the Author's notes already!" she growled at him.

"Alright," Bob grumbled.

o.T: Increase your meds.

Rebel Goddess: Dilly is not super powered. Her powers are typical of what a house elf has. Remember in canon Dobby threw Lucius Malfoy down a corridor with a gesture. Dilly having the ability to kill someone isn't that far a stretch of the imagination.

Muirnin Cocan: Firstly people like our disclaimers. If they bother you, don't read them. As to Draco's title, that would be for the Malfoy family. A title which he currently lay claim to.

Alyx and I would like to thank every person that sent us emails and reviews telling us about the name of the video short that gave us inspiration for fuzz. Our ISP however is pissed about all the email from the millions of people that had to tell us about it. There's never a Jackalope around when you need one.

Meghan: Nutters is still around. He's just up a tree somewhere waiting to come down.

Lordblack: Authors prerogative. That's why.

Marine Potter Fan: Yeah, we can't believe it either. But we're coming down to the home stretch so hang in there.

Vidar: Shame on you for reading our story at work. As we've said before, we are not to be held responsible for failing grades, lost jobs/sleep/wars, missing body parts and failed marriages if you aren't paying attention while reading our fiction.

Princess Fictoria: Regrettably I am not allowed to eat the virtual cookies you sent. A recent stay in the hospital has changed all that for me. Sigh... Anyone got any low cal, low carb, low everything (except taste) Chocolate chip cookies?

Crose: I'm sorry, but I'm one of those people that truly dislikes Snape. In my mind, even in canon, Snape works for Snape.

Crys: Hmmmm I'm not sure whether the information will be useful or not. To be honest I needed a scene to torment our readers by starting off without showing what happened to Harry and company. The conversation between Bertrand and Narcissa fit the bill nicely I thought. While Narcissa may be developing some feelings for Bertrand, we have no plans of getting the two together. As it stands he'd never return those feelings.

Back to:: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 29 - The coming dawn

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain Chapter 29 - The coming dawn

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 29 - The coming dawn