Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 27

Act III

"We go in ten seconds," the Communication charm sounded in Hermione's ear. Unconsciously nodding even though she was Disillusioned and couldn't see Harry, the brunette witch waited while counting down in her head.

Ten

This was their first target and a trial run of sorts. Auror Command Intelligence had identified this Death Eater meeting facility as a type where there was a semi-permanent garrison. On `revelry' nights, over one hundred followers of the Dark Lord could be found here before and after their dastardly missions upon the unsuspecting.

It'd been Remus' idea to hit this place. "We don't want to put Voldemort on his guard any more than he already is, at least we don't want to do it yet," the Lycan had argued. "A target like this is one that the Auror teams have been routinely assaulting over the past months. "

"But there's no way that an Auror team would be able to take on a full Death Eater assembly," Susan observed drily.

Remus had nodded his agreement, but Hermione had to agree with both sides of the argument. Remus' reasoning made sense, but Susan's inference that the team had the magical might to do more than a standard Auror team was true.

Harry and Hermione were magical powerhouses. Not even at their magical maturity, both were mages, while the rest of the team was either above average magically or exceptionally skilled.

"So this is the first of many," she commented while holding the werewolf's gaze. He nodded meaningfully.

Nine

The group was arrayed about the house in pairs. Hermione and Neville, Harry and Susan, Sirius and Charlie, Remus and Bill were all paired up with specific responsibilities. Fleur was a floater of sorts. She was to work with Harry's team but had a specific mission. Harry and Sirius had paired up the groups based on their experience or power levels. Fleur, the Weasley brothers and Sirius had the most experience in fighting the war, but Harry and Hermione were by far the most magically powerful.

Susan was a quick, vicious fighter who complemented Harry very well while Neville's shields allowed Hermione the freedom to wreak havoc from a protected place. All in all, the team was well balanced.

Harry, Susan, Fleur, Sirius and Charlie were going in the front door. Hermione and Neville were covering the back while Remus and Bill looked for any jumpers or broom-borne escapees.

The planning for this particular mission hadn't taken long but the consideration of fields of fire, angles of attack and progression of fire teams in the house took quite a bit of time to work through. Unsurprisingly, it'd been Susan who'd broached the unasked, but omnipresent question, "Why don't we seal the house and light it on fire?"

Hermione had been quiet while the group considered Susan's musing. She knew very well of her redheaded friend's intense hatred of Death Eaters. Part of Hermione wondered if it wasn't such a bad idea to exterminate the lot of them like the cockroaches they were. At the same time…

"We need intelligence, Susan. Unfortunately, that means we've to capture a few of them for interrogation," Harry replied in a subdued, but tense, tone.

"And after we're done questioning them?" Susan asked with studied nonchalance.

Harry had been visibly annoyed by her question, but answered, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Moving on…."

Eight

There was a plan and a strategy for their campaign. "We eliminate the top generals," Remus had proposed. "Malfoy, Jugson, Selwyn and the like." Nodding to Harry, Remus added, "With his top enforcer captured, he's already on edge. Based on our past knowledge and the information we were able to get out of her, Bellatrix was a favoured member of Voldemort's Inner Circle. We kill the rest in a sequential manner so as to drive Voldemort's paranoia through the roof." Gesturing with the chip in his hand, he swallowed a bit of his pint before adding, "This will herd him to his most secure base and keep him there."

"Like Hitler and the Fuhrerbunker at the end of the Second World War?" Hermione had asked.

Remus nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly."

Bill had frowned before exchanging a look with Fleur who piped up in her smooth soprano voice, "I doubt that we can assume the Voldemort will commit suicide like Hitler. That means we'd have to break into the most secure facility in Britain…,"

"if not the world," Bill interrupted darkly.

Nodding at her lover, Fleur amended, "If not the world in order to kill the most dangerous wizard in the world."

The table had been silent as they all chewed on the pub fare while contemplating the issue.

"How else will we find him?" Neville had asked.

"We won't," Sirius announced with resignation. "Bellatrix said that he's moving about the country constantly. We'll never find him otherwise."

Seven

Their ingress to the country had been smooth. The long portkey ride from Spain to the Fidelius hidden camp in Wales had been uneventful.

"It's a bit like coming home," Harry had mused aloud to Hermione as they unpacked their gear.

She half smiled as she placed a pair of jeans in her drawer. "Well, we are close to Rowan Hill.'

Nodding resignedly, he leaned against the bedpost. "Part of me wants to cancel the charms that hide the estate just so we can stay there." His eyes met hers, full of meaning. "That's home."

Smiling sadly, she returned to her unpacking. There was no profit exploring `what if' or `wish we could' scenarios.

"The holding chamber is ready," Sirius' voice sounded from the door. Turning, Hermione nodded.

"Warded?"

"Bill and Fleur just finished up."

Nodding again, Hermione tried to forget about what they just discussed. They all agreed that they needed fresh intelligence in order to target accurately the Death Eater leaders in order to get to Voldemort. Unfortunately, they had no idea how to find most of them.

In his rampage after Harry's felling in the graveyard outside Little Hangleton, Sirius had destroyed many manor houses where these leaders would have been found. As it stood now, what seemed like a good idea was, in fact, a hindrance to their efforts. The holding chamber was the unpleasant result of Sirius' vengeful retribution. They called it a `holding' chamber, but in reality it was a questioning facility. It was where they would dose, question and wring every ounce of information they could out of their captives. Alex and Lily had been very busy brewing Veritaserum and other, lesser, truth serums.

Six

William was busy. He and Remus had meticulously plotted all the known or supposed locations of the coherent werewolf packs that existed in Britain before Voldemort's takeover. His plan was to address some of the smaller packs, gaining support before addressing the Yorkshire pack - one of the largest in all of the UK.

Currently, the Prince and Alex were waiting back in Wales for any wounded from the raid. Otherwise, he was systematically combing through the Wizarding code looking for the legal discrimination that existed so that he could provide the lycanthropes with a reasoned discussion of their status along with a reasonable legal solution.

"The hard part is to make it fair to lycanthropes and non-lycanthropes," Billy had moaned. "Those not afflicted with the disease live with fear - both reasonable and not - that werewolves will flay them to shreds. At the same time, the vast majority of lycanthropes are decent people who deserve all the opportunities to live in peace that are afforded their neighbours."

"What about those like Greyback?" Hermione had asked.

Scrubbing his face, Billy mumbled, "That's the rub. The law has to account for the psychopaths while protecting the innocent."

Five

James and Lily had reported a resurgence in the Russian badgering of the British Ministry in Exile. By now, most governments had recognized the Russians as the legitimized government mouthpiece of the Voldemort regime.

"He really said that?" Hermione gasped over Harry's shoulder one evening during the mirror call with James and Lily.

James had nodded slowly. "Yep. `Russia stands firm in the belief that the so called British Ministry in Exile is truly a subversive terrorist organization bent upon implementing their bigoted and prejudiced policies upon the downtrodden'. Word for word it could be used to accurately describe Voldemort."

"Which is why Ivanov fired that shot at us first," Lily's voice sounded from off the screen. She was in the rocking chair after nursing Robbie, slowly moving back and forth as the baby drifted off to sleep. "Any counter accusations now sound like so much stuff and nonsense. It would be considered posturing and the like as opposed to an accurate description of Voldemort's regime."

"But it is accurate!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry…," James chided.

Sighing, Hermione feels Harry deflate. "I know. Politics has very little to do with truth and falsehood," he muttered.

"Yep. So, on to more cheerful topics," James buoyantly transitioned, "Tell Padfoot that Hestia is officially the Deputy Minister to Amelia."

Four

Hermione, Fleur, Susan and Alex had become much closer as friends. While knowing Fleur from her time in the UK during the TriWizard tournament, Hermione wouldn't have called her a close friend. Now, though, the young women researched together while chatting about various and sundry. Of course, the topic of their men came up on more than one occasion.

"He said that!" Fleur exclaimed, her hand hovering in front of her smiling mouth.

Alex was buried in giggling laughter. "Hermione saw him. He was so high from the painkillers, that I don't think he remembered what he said."

"I heard the part where he told her that she had great baps," Hermione grinned at Alex.

The blonde healer rolled her eyes as she blushed, "Well, he liked my arse, too. Apparently, it's crackin'."

They all chuckled as Susan leaned over to Fleur, asking for her translation of the warding compendium she was studying. The book was written in German, of which Susan was conversant, but the idiosyncratic warding terms were beyond her. As Fleur read, Alex and Hermione brewed another set of Stasis potions. While not the strength of the Draught of Living Death, they had the same effect, but over a finite period of time. Both women were able brewers and were shooting for a two week effect from their potions.

Three

"Keep him alive," Susan had directed her friend before they departed Wales for the mission. At Hermione's quizzical expression, the redhead clarified, "Neville. Don't let anything happen to him. I'll hold you accountable for every wound of his."

About to roll her eyes at Susan's implied threat, she stopped. The hardness that rose into the heiress to House Bones when discussing Death Eaters was at the fore. Her blue eyes were proverbial chips of ice while her expression was closed and hard. Forgoing a protracted discussion for now wasn't the time, Hermione merely nodded in a serious fashion. That seemed to be enough for Susan as she nodded in return before inspecting her gear for a final time.

Shaking her head, Hermione cleared her thoughts of distractions. The family was fine, but if she didn't get her head in the game, and quickly at that, then she'd not be so fine.

Two

The back door of the small manor house opened, flooding the backyard with light and noise as three unmasked Death Eaters spilled out of the house.

"Those bloody mudbloods were hilarious!" the first one exclaimed before tripping down the steps. His angry pained cries were drowned out by his companions' inebriated laughter.

One

Slowly, Hermione took a long breath in, held it for a beat before letting it go. Off to her side, she heard Neville do the same.

"Go!" Harry's voice sounded in her ear.

Four things happened concurrently. First, Hermione and Neville cast a spread of Bone Breaking curses at the drunken wizards. All three died with shattered skulls.

In the front of the house, Fleur destroyed the front door with a curse of Lithuanian origin. The shards of the large oak double doors spread splintering death into the front hall and the lower steps as Harry, Susan, Sirius and Charlie sprinted into the building. The clatter of the rebounding shards added to the din of their spellfire.

On the sides of the house, Hermione could see Remus and Bill seal each upper storey window before casting Anti-Apparition wards. They'd debated it hotly for a week, but in the end, Sirius' argument that bottling up the rats in a cage was worth the sacrifice to the strike teams' mobility.

Remus dove to his right as a streak of green spellfire lanced from a main floor window. Reacting instinctively, Hermione saw that she had a good angle on the target. Before she could consciously form the words, her wand was up, centred and the incantation slipped past her lips. "Confringo." The bay window exploded in a shower of splinters and glass shards a moment later.

In the corner of her vision, she saw Remus sealing the main floor windows without acknowledging her contribution. Realizing there wasn't time for the niceties, Hermione quickly conjured a slab of granite over the gaping hole in the building before taking a deep breath. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced at the back door to insure that her primary role was secure. No movement there allowed her to focus and cast the Indestructible charm.

An obscure charm, it required a lot of magical might to cast it effectively but the effect was great indeed. No Death Eater would be shattering the conjured stone to escape the building that evening.

"Come on, come on," she heard Neville mutter to himself just as a loud horn sounded inside the house followed by a loud detonation from the front of the house.

Fleur's role in the team had resolved itself into a demolitions expert of sorts. After the first four charged into the house, she quickly engraved a series of cascading runic land mines that prevented anyone from exiting the house. `Anyone' including the good guys alongside the bad guys. Anyone stepping a foot outside the front door would lose said foot in an extremely painful and gory manner.

Therefore, the horn.

The horn indicated that Harry needed Hermione and Neville to enter the house and hold the back door either to allow the front door team an egress point, or to be the anvil upon which the hammer would crush its target. Should things warrant further assistance, a second horn would bring everyone into the house, wands-a-blazin'.

Hermione and Neville charged up the back steps as he cast, "Everbero!" Neville's spellcasting had improved by leaps and bounds since he began to work with Harry. The proof was demonstrated as his Bludgeoning curse knocked the back doors off their hinges with such force that two Death Eaters on the other side were killed.

Time slowed. Emotion fell away. The movie film of life became a series of still lifes, each a critical snapshot of time. Hermione moved, acted and interacted but it was if the sound was muted on life.

Running up the back steps so fast that she later doubted the soles of her shoes ever touched the steps,

A wall of Death Eaters trying to flee the Walking Death within surged from the upper floors.

Her Vinewood and Dragon heartstring wand was in motion.

A Wide Area Cutting curse felled the front rank, most in multiple pieces.

Neville pounding up the steps behind her.

Hermione began to spell chain: Reductor. Piercing. Binding. Human to animal transfiguration (a turtle). Blasting.

Explosions. Screams. Wet, meaty thumps as bodies hit the ground, walls and each other.

The floor slick with gore; slippery.

At her side, Neville was casting like a fiend.

Hermione's left foot slipped as she turned. Flailing for a moment, a Death Eater snap cast a Blinding hex at her.

"Argh!" she exclaimed. Off balance, Hermione didn't dare cast for fear of hitting Neville.

Holding her wand at her face was a counterintuitive action. All their Hogwarts career, all the professors had stridently stressed wand safety and the first principle of wand safety was always point it away from yourself.

Finite Incantatem.

Time restarted.

Her eyesight returning, Hermione glared at the Death Eater standing over her. The masked man was running his gob about, "…got you now you mudblood bitch…," but Hermione's Reductor curse pulped his head making it difficult to finish his thought.

A kick in her ribs spun Hermione like a top. Landing at the bottom of the steps, she heard Neville shout in frustration as Death Eaters leapt past him to escape the house. Barely able to lift her wand, Hermione watched. The pain was real, present and an overpowering screaming from her right side that pinned her arm to her side and causing her to twitch and groan. Gritting her teeth, she lifted her wand a bit while twisting. Lining up on the doorway, she muttered the incantation for a very special ward.

The shining barricade flared to life. It was the barrier spell that Voldemort used in the graveyard against Harry, but Hermione figured it'd work just fine right now. As the first three Death Eaters were incinerated by the ward, she passed out from the pain.

.oOo.

Neville Longbottom was angry. That wasn't completely correct. Neville Longbottom was in a fucking rage.

He and Hermione had held the back door of the Death Eater house before she'd been overcome by the sheer weight of numbers flooding out the back door. Her organic incinerating ward had shut down the Death Eater egress from the house through the door, but the less dim members of the household had simply used the Reductor curse to pound a hold through the wall creating a makeshift doorway.

Now Neville was the bulwark against the cresting tide of Death Eaters.

The Reductor curse and the Piercing charm both have minimal wand movements and are, therefore, favourites of duellers in close quarters fighting. At that moment, Neville was using those two spells to great effect as he killed more men and women than he could count; their bodies stacking like cordwood in the narrow makeshift doorway.

"HARRY! I NEED SOME BLOODY HELP HERE!" he shouted. While his bottleneck tactic was succeeding, Neville felt his magic weakening precipitously. Hermione had stood against the first flood taking on over twenty Death Eaters simultaneously. To Neville's wonderment, she'd almost escaped unscathed.

"Crucio!"

He felt as if his body was lit on fire while being frozen at the same time. A god was reaching into his body, pulling his bones out one at a time all the while no anaesthesia had been applied. Thousands of poisoned knives were flaying him alive while meat hooks pulled his muscles apart.

Screams filled the night, but Neville was beyond the point of recognition that it was his own voice. Competing with the unending and unearthly pain was one thought: They're not doing to me what they did to Mum and Dad.

Hence his rage.

After a momentary eternity, the pain stopped, leaving Neville curled in a ball. Panting he tried to focus on what was going on around him - anything to shove the pain that much further away from his present.

A large foot was right in front of his face so that meant Remus or Bill, but that was as far as he could get. Like a wave, it buried him again leaving the young Longbottom lord shaking, twitching and whimpering in remembered pain.

.oOo.

Remus had heard Hermione's screams and Neville's furious shout for help. The first sent him running to the back of the house, the second had him sprinting. He'd just finished sealing his side of the house but it seemed that the back was in extremis. Rounding the corner, he saw Neville being held under the Cruciatus curse by a masked Death Eater. Without pausing, the former Professor of Hogwarts cast a Reductor curse that blew the offending person into five major parts with various gobbets of gore spread about the back porch.

Mounting the steps at a dead run, in the corner of his eye he saw Bill approaching from the other side of the house. The Death Eaters had forced another egress through the wall on the opposite side of the door from the first makeshift exit. Using the heaps of debris, Remus transfigured a tiger that he sent in a door and a matching panthera tigris into the other door.

Hearing screams from inside, Remus quickly took the opportunity to tend to the twitching wizard at his feet. Running his hands over Neville, he found no obvious injuries so he reached into his pocket for a large Sharpie marker. Hermione had run to Tesco for various things a week before and insisted that each member of the team carry the marker for this reason. Quickly scrawling `CRUCIATUS' on Neville's forehead, Remus activated the young man's portkey that took him to Alex and Billy back in Wales.

Looking up, he saw a masked head poke around the corner of the lefthand exit. Remus' Detonation curse in response shook the foundations of the house. Bill reached his side and began incanting in a harsh guttural voice. After the quick incantation, the redhead finished the spell with a flourish of his wand before dropping to his knees. Panting heavily, Bill gasped, "Nothing's coming through here. C'mon. Let's go to the front."

Ghosting down the stairs to the immobile witch Remus repeated himself in checking Hermione for obvious injuries. With Bill still catching his breath at the foot of the stairs, Remus sent Hermione to Wales with no indicator on her forehead.

His eyes narrowed, he growled, "Let's go." They'd hurt his family. While it was expected that some of them would be hurt - most if truth be told - the use of the Cruciatus was beyond the pale.

At a quick jog, the two wizards moved to the front of the house.

.oOo.

Fleur was covered with blood. When Harry, Sirius, Charlie and Susan had dashed in the front door following her Detonation curse, she'd stepped across the doorframe and rapidly began to carve rune sets that acted as a land mine of sorts. Fleur had done this countless times with the Aurors and …before. Two minutes after she had destroyed the front doors, the silver haired lover of Bill Weasley sprinted into the interior of the manor house following the shouting and screams to meet up with her team.

At the top of the stairs, she literally ran into a Death Eater who was in full regalia. Caught in the man's robes, she shoved her wand under his chin before muttering, "Exploser." His blood and brains soaked her, transforming her from a vision of beauty to a revelation of death.

Ignoring the mess, she sprinted along the hall to join the fight and it was good that she'd done so. On the second floor, the strike team of four was fighting toe to toe against over fifty opponents. It was madness and chaos. Sirius was shrieking in his bloodlust while Harry was a killing machine, mowing down his opponents with a ruthless efficiency that was frightening. Susan stood at her friend's shoulder alternately shielding and casting offensive spells. Her face was twisted into a scowl that was fearsome.

Fleur focused on her beloved's brother. Charlie was not the fastest wand in the group but each of his spells was specially selected and cast with a perfection of execution and aim that killed or injured Death Eaters in bunches.

Despite the group's proficiency, the Death Eaters were pushing Harry and the rest back towards where they came. Even when Fleur stood next to Susan, adding her not inconsiderable magical might to the fight, the Death Eaters still gained ground. Casting with a fury none would expect upon meeting her, the blonde Frenchwoman feared that they were losing and in danger of being cornered and killed. She didn't consciously expect it, but when The Boy-Who-Lived took charge, Fleur wasn't surprised.

"DOWN!" Harry shouted.

As the scarred Veela dove for the floor, the room was filled with a blinding blue light. Harry had warned the team that should he call for them all to hit the floor, he was going to `go nuclear' - whatever that meant.

Now she knew what he meant.

His area affect charm was a creation that led from Hermione and Sirius' rune based creation. He'd added a twist that made it more useful in a fight, though. The rune based `bomb' created a wave-front of incendiary heat followed by an overpressure surge that destroyed all in its path in the same manner as the destructive force of a thermonuclear detonation.

Harry's charm reproduced the effect, but with a horizontally planer focus instead of a wave-front. With a flash, over thirty Death Eaters were killed. Fleur heard the liquid spatter as the chunks of corpses fell to the floor combined with the crashing of plaster from the shards of the walls falling down. Harry's groaning caught her attention as he fell to his knees.

"You alright, kiddo?" Sirius asked as he moved to his godson's side. Padfoot didn't look to his cousin's son, but kept his wand up and moving, looking for new targets.

"Big spell," Harry muttered in reply as he gasped.

As Fleur regained her feet, she saw Susan rush to the hallway before the redhead called out, "Harry! They're going to the back door."

Without hesitation, Sirius twirled his wand in a tight circle sounding a horn to warn the back door guard that they had company coming. "C'mon, they're going to need help," Sirius announced to the group.

Fleur moved to Harry's side before hoisting him to his feet. "Lean on me," she murmured while she half walked and half dragged Harry to the doorway.

"I'm Ok," he muttered as he straightened up. "Let's go."

The battle was waning, but the brutality was far from over.

.oOo.

"How goes your efforts, James?"

The Duke of Shrewsbury looked up from his desk in the ICW General Assembly Hall to see Johann Gruber, the Ambassador from Germany, standing there with a sober expression on his face.

Gruber was a no nonsense man who James like immensely. Not only had the Germans been staunch allies of the British Ministry in Exile, but Johann had been personally very supportive of James. When Prongs wanted to choke the lights out of Ivanov from Russia, or punch the toadying Stoyanov from Rumania, Johann would distract him with an in depth discussion about the qualities of beer or how to make the best strudel (Gruber's wife Anna was a phenomenal cook) or some other bit of humdrum that helped James keep his temper in check.

And Germany had been unswerving in their support of the Bones Ministry.

Johann didn't have much of a sense of humour, but James liked him anyway. "Things are moving along, Johann. I had a very interesting discussion with Athos Lampros the other day."

"Really? How is our Greek friend?"

James sighed dispiritedly. "He's well, but he intimated that the pro-Voldemort faction in his country is on the verge of seizing control. Greece will not help us."

Gruber pursed his lips while nodding. "That is unfortunate. For them and for you. I, on the other hand had a very interesting conversation with our good friends in China."

Smiling in anticipation, James leaned back in his chair. "And how is our good friend, Ambassador Li Pang?"

Picking at imaginary lint on his sleeves, Gruber replied, "She was curious as to how a regiment of Chinese magical troops would be used in the retaking of magical Britain."

James smiled broadly. "Did she, now?"

.oOo.

"Fuck."

Harry nodded wearily. He fully agreed with his godfather's assessment of the situation.

They were back at their base in Wales, all of them shell-shocked and exhausted. In the other room, Alex worked frantically on Neville while Hermione slept through her recovery. When Remus had told Harry of her injuries, he'd been frantic until they returned to the infirmary tent. Billy met him at the door.

"She's going to be fine," the Prince soothed before Harry could open his mouth. "She took a beating, but she'll be fine. Few broken ribs, but they've all been repaired and she's sleeping it off now."

Susan tried to push past them, "Neville!" she called out.

Billy scooped his redheaded friend into his arms which told Harry much. There hadn't been much time to talk when they'd finished up with the house. The house itself was burning and leaning to the side. Harry's curse had ruptured the structural integrity of the building. Remus had held out the rope portkey and, without speaking, triggered it once the remaining team was grasping the line . Neville must have been seriously hurt. "Alex is working on him and she asked that we all stay out here to keep out from underfoot."

Susan stood still in Billy's embrace, staring at the tent where Alex had her makeshift infirmary. After a long moment, she nodded. "I'm just going to watch. I'll stay out of the way." With a pat on her back, Billy let Susan pass. Slowly, the all moved to Harry and Hermione's tent to wait for news.

Charlie was half-asleep on the couch while Sirius and Remus sat next to him; all of them waiting for news. The horror of Neville's injuries was magnified by the history of his family with the Cruciatus curse. Harry had no idea who'd attacked Neville, but he wouldn't be surprised if that bitch Fate had arranged for a Lestrange brother to be responsible.

Harry glanced about. Fleur was tending to Bill's dislocated shoulder. In the final pincer movement that decimated the surviving Death Eaters, a huge burly man had run over Bill in his frantic efforts to escape. Remus' Piercing charm had put paid to the scum, but not before Bill was thrown off the front porch and into a large hydrangea bush. The redheaded curse breaker met Harry's gaze, his intense blue meeting Harry's worried green.

"Considering the operation, we got off with light casualties," Bill observed as he rotated his injured shoulder. His placid expression was studied while he held Harry's attention.

Snarling, Harry bit back the vicious retort that sprung to mind. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath while considering the veracity of Bill's words. Nodding, he admitted, "Yes, despite Neville's being cursed, the team got off rather lightly."

"We need to rework our approach," Sirius murmured as he rubbed his eyes. "If we hit another site that has such a large number of targets and we intend to deal with all of them, we might need to sacrifice the number of groups for a concentration of our people."

Harry nodded his agreement as Fleur offered, "If we cast the wards earlier, we would free up Remus and Bill." Narrowing her eyes, she added, "But the early ward casting might be detected by the targets."

Remus leaned back on the couch, his eyes closed as he mused, "We trade off the element of surprise for a concentration of force. There's no rule that says we can't raise the wards from the back of the house or seal the house before knocking on the door."

Silently, Harry soaked up the observations and opinions of his more experienced team members. Feeling pretty inept here, he admitted to himself. Just after that, a voice that sounded remarkably like Hermione's chastised him, This is why you have Sirius, Bill, Fleur and Remus. They'll follow you to hell and back, but they have experience that you don't have.

"Smaller target next time?" Sirius mumbled.

Bill shook his head. "Won't help drive You-Know-Who to the wall if we do that."

"Why not?" Harry asked. "One attack is as good as the next."

"Because we want him to feel threatened. Personally threatened," Bill reiterated. "You can't scare a psychotic wizard like You-Know-Who with an attack on three Death Eaters." Gesturing with his hand out the window, Bill concluded, "You have to kill over a hundred, like we did tonight. And we have to do it again, soon, else we lose the emotional impact to the enemy."

They all sat quietly, considering the truth of Bill's assertion. Finally, Sirius piped up. With a jab to Charlie's midsection, he whined, "I'm tired of all the serious talk. Tell me a story about dragons, youngster."

Blinking away his sleepy eyes, Charlie smiled. "Well, there was this one time back in '92 when a Horntail and a Vipertooth were feeling frisky…."

.oOo.

Winky was singing an elven lullaby as she watched over Master Robbie. Her Grace was in the shower, so the devoted servant of Lily Potter was watching over the baby. The young Master was sleeping as Winky watched him, a smile dancing in and out across her tiny face.

"How is he, Winky?" Lily asked as she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe.

"Lord Robert is sleeping quietly, your Grace," Winky replied in a low voice that carried to her mistress. The young elf tilted her head, considering, before snapping her fingers. The burst of elven magic brought a heavy robe from her Grace's wardrobe.

"Thank you, Winky," Lily murmured as her ladies' maid hurried to assist the Duchess in dressing and doing up her auburn hair as the muggleborn witch sat at her vanity. "I seem to be getting colder every day." She laughed to herself in an undertone as she fixed her earrings in place. "You'd think that this temperate climate would be hot after living in Scotland for seven winters, but…," she trailed off as Winky applied the Sticking charm to the back of the robe to close it.

"'Tis the wind, your Grace," the elf observed as she scrutinized her Lady for any imperfections. Removing a bit of stray fuzz from her Grace's arm, Winky nodded in pronouncing her Lady ready to face the world. Well, in this case, it was a bit more than the world.

With a wink, Lily grinned, "Let's go, Winky. The Queen is waiting."

The elf was bursting with joy and gratitude as she snapped her fingers again, causing Lord Robert's bag to shrink as it hid itself in her little pocket. She'd been a part of the Crouch household and a valuable asset there. Now, she was an integral part of the Potter family. Not only valued for what she could do, but for who she was.

Lily stooped to carry Robbie to the fireplace. Scurrying behind her Mistress, Winky prepared to follow Lily to Paris for their tea with Her Majesty. Rauri had been quite insistent that her Grace was to be never undefended.

Winky was ready to give her life to defend her mistress should that occasion arise.

.oOo.

Dinner was a quiet affair, as usual. Arthur listlessly forked a few slices of succulent roast pork onto his plate. Handing the platter to his daughter, the balding man accepted the bowl of beans from his son. "Thanks, Ron," he muttered.

The tall youngest son of Arthur and Molly nodded absently as he cut his roast before dunking it in the pool of gravy. Across from him, Molly was absently toying with a potato. His once curvy wife had lost four stone and was now dangerously skinny. When they'd first met in school Molly had been a petite woman whose figure was rail thin, aside from her hourglass figure. Seven children later, she had lost that shape, but his love for her never diminished.

Now, she was approaching the same figure she had as a fifth year student and Arthur was considering forcing her to go to a healer.

Shaking his head, Arthur reflected on the state of his family. Molly was medically depressed. With Percy missing, she'd had her worst fear realized: losing more of her family. The loss of her brothers in her first war had nearly destroyed her. The seeming loss of her son was eating her alive.

Flanking her were the twins. Fred and George had lost nearly all their cheerful exuberance that made them quintessential jokesters. Now, they were angry. Narrowing his eyes in consideration, Arthur wondered if it was the loss of their least favourite brother, the impact of his loss on the family, the loss of Britain and the subjugation of her people or a mix of all. Or something else entirely.

Ron was quiet. He'd never been boisterous like the twins or garrulous like Charlie, but he'd also never been shy. Now he was silent as the grave.

Ginny was fretting. Of all them, she'd known true evil and battled it. She knew what Bill and Charlie were facing and what could be holding Percy in its icy thrall. Most of the time she was artificially cheerful while pasting a happy expression on her face for her mother - for Ginny knew that Moly suffered and wanted to help. Arthur was able to see beyond the masque to her pain, her fear.

All of them suffered. Blinking, Arthur wondered at his role in their pain. It was far too easy to blame Bill and Charlie's absence or Percy's captivity or the war in general for the family's problems. Arthur knew that his guilt over his…treason…was enormous. No matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, he knew that those who loved him most could see and feel his disquiet.

Heaving a heavy sigh, he scrubbed his face. Sometimes his ignominy was overpowering. He'd tried to smother it with the argument that his son's life was in the balance; he'd do anything for his son. Who wouldn't? Ever since admitting his treasonous activity to Amelia, that counterargument didn't seem to hold much water.

"Dad, are you alright?"

Looking up from his still full plate, Arthur smiled weakly at Ginny. His darling girl. "I'm well, Firebug." She'd earned that friendly nickname as her first bout of accidental magic had been to set the twins hair on fire when they were teasing her.

She frowned in return. "You're so sad lately, Dad. Is it Percy?"

Arthur's weak imitation of a smile faltered. Now, he had the full attention of the table's occupants. Glancing about, he replied, "That and more. Things are difficult at the Ministry." It wasn't an untrue statement, but it was far from the truth.

"Of course they are," Molly interjected with a hint of her old vim. To all their children, she admonished, "Your father is a very important man who is filling a vital role in freeing our country. Every day, he does things that save people's lives."

Self-loathing swamped Arthur. Molly's instinctive belief and trust in him that he could be no less than perfectly honourable and upright was tortuous. If she only knew the truth, he thought to himself.

Ginny caught his eye, her expression both loving and serious. "Well…no matter what, I love you Daddy."

Arthur almost burst into tears of shame, but only nodded dumbly before replying, "And I love you, too, Firebug."

.oOo.

Oliver swallowed the last of the whisky in his glass. Nowadays, he kept his alcohol intake to only one glass per day. Part of it was necessity. "Can't find any bloody firewhiskey nowadays," he mumbled to himself. At his side, Angelina nodded to herself in agreement.

On the other side of the room, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were asleep in each other's arms. The lovers had shocked Oliver with their announcement that they batted for the home team. After the initial surprise wore off, he shrugged and jokingly asked if he could watch. His resulting bruises faded after a few weeks.

The four Gryffindors had formed a cadre of sorts. Unable to link up with any of the formalized resistance, Oliver had declared, "We've our wands. What more do we need?" The foursome had taken to killing as many Death Eaters as they could. They each had deeply personal motivations, but said motivations were common to all.

"For you, Mum," Oliver whispered as he toasted her spirit with his now empty glass.

"Dad, Ally," Angelina echoed at his side for her lost father and sister.

Oliver nodded. Had Katie and Alicia been awake, they'd have toasted both their parents and Katie's younger brother.

Casting a quick spell to wash out their glasses, Oliver finished their nightly routine. Holding out his hand to his lover and fellow freedom fighter, he asked, "Will you join me?"

She smiled wistfully. He could see it in her eyes that she - like he - wished for the innocence of days gone. Nevertheless, she took his hand in both of hers. Oliver shivered as she placed the usual gentle kiss to his palm before she replied, "Of course, my love."

An hour later, his breath heaving from exertion, Oliver fell into a deep sleep. Some would say it was the sleep of the righteous, others would say it was the sleep of the damned.

Tonight, they'd killed four Death Eaters. It'd been a good day.

.oOo.

He saw her eyelids flutter as she woke. Slowly rubbing her shoulder, Harry whispered, "Hey you."

Hermione smiled tiredly. "Hey."

"Alright?" His tone was deceptively light, wanting to know but trying to hide his fear for her well-being.

"Sore, but overall alright." She grumbled while stretching her back. Stopping the stretch, she opened her eyes, fixing him with her stare. "Everyone else alright?"

Harry's heart sank. Gently scooping up Hermione's hand, he told her, "Neville. He was under the Cruciatus."

Hermione groaned in anguish. "And?"

"Alex said that he'd be fine in a few days. Apparently, the wizard who'd cast the Cruciatus on him wasn't very powerful or focused. The spell had hurt but didn't caused the long term damage that his parents suffered."

Torn by a variety of emotions and reactions, Harry was silent. He was angry that his friend suffered such a vicious curse. Adding insult to injury was the history that Neville had with the curse. Self-reproach and guilt flooded him. I'm the team leader. I should've had a better plan so he wasn't so exposed. Fear that Hermione or someone who was closer to his heart could be next. Guilt that he felt that Neville was `low on the totem pole' was salt in his wound. All in all, Harry was a mess.

Hermione sighed loudly. "A few days. Live and learn…," she muttered.

Frowning, he objected, "Live and learn?" He tried to keep the harshness from his question. He failed.

Hermione's narrow eyed gaze focused on him as she replied with some heat, "In case you've forgotten, my love, this is war. The other side isn't going to roll over to let us kill them. They have this nasty tendency to want to live to see tomorrow and that causes them to cast all sorts of nasty spells."

Her sarcasm caused Harry to chuckle. Feeling his gloom lifting, he kissed her emerald bedecked hand, "Thanks." The shifting of her expression from a scowl to a twinkling smile reaffirmed his belief that she knew him better than anyone else.

It was fairly clear that Hermione was his rock; his centre. As she was sleeping through her recovery, he'd drifted a bit. The old learned behaviours from his childhood in Surrey had surfaced. Vernon's constant blame of Harry for all that ailed his family had taught Harry that he was not only responsible but guilty of what transpired. The ingrained belief in his incompetence - his incapability - was strong and one that he and his family had worked hard to overcome over the past nearly two years. Without Hermione to steady him, he quickly fell back into that morass of self-doubt.

Harry could be two different persons. By himself he could be inconstant, angst ridden all the while pulling guilt upon himself for things he'd not done. With Hermione at his side, he was calmer, more level headed. With a word or a look from her, he could centre himself and move forward without regret. Smiling at her, he admitted to himself that this is what'd happened to him about the raid from the night before. "Love you," he whispered.

She reached for him, pulling him into their bed. As she wrapped her arms about him, Hermione purred, "Hmmm."

.oOo.

"Your Majesty, the Duchess of Shrewsbury and Lord Robert Potter."

Elizabeth looked up from her correspondence toward the doorwarden. Nodding to the security agent, she rubbed her eyes. As she heard the door open, the Queen sighed heavily. While she'd been able to make contact with many other Heads of State - and with the assistance of their local Ministries for Magic convince them of the truth of her situation - a solution wasn't developing.

Even the United States, whom Britain had the long held `special relationship', wasn't running forward to assist her country. To assist her in her struggle to retake her country. Elizabeth had been a politician as long as she could remember so she knew that personal cause and effect had to be divorced from the machinations of nation states, but…

Lily entered the room, the baby snuggled into her arms causing Elizabeth's thoughts to be rerouted to a much more pleasant place.

"Ah, your Grace," she murmured with her hands outstretched in greeting. The stunning redhead smiled in reply as the older woman added, "It's very good to see you again."

The last time they'd met had been over tea just before she been delivered of her baby. Looking down at the babe, Elizabeth smiled with the suffused joy that only a parent can muster. Images of Charles, Andrew and her other children flashed through her mind. All of them wanted, adored and loved. All of them dead.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, shuttering away the omnipresent pain. Her duty was far from a balm to her soul. It was more of an anaesthetic that numbed the pain, allowing her to function through the day. Blinking away the unwanted wetness, she refocused on Lily and young Robert. "He's a grand boy,"

Smiling widely, Lily couldn't help but to agree. "He is, though I say so myself." The Duchess cum witch reached into her handbag, withdrawing her wand. "Do you mind?" she asked with a gesture of the wand.

"Go right ahead."

A moment later, a wooden swing appeared out of thin air. Engraved upon it were creatures of faery, scuttling about on the polished struts of the swing. A small being popped into existence, her dress that of a ladies' maid, but her size and colouring far from that.

Before the Queen could comment beyond a surprised expression, Lily introduced them, "Your Majesty, this is Winky. She's a House Elf and takes care of Robert and myself."

Elizabeth remembered James' initial briefing of the Potter household and his description of the fierce dedication and loyalty of their magical domestics. "How do you do, Miss Winky."

The House Elf blushed to the roots of her tightly bound hair. With a deep curtsey, Winky replied, "I am being well, your Majesty." Before anyone could say anything else, the Elf reached out for Robbie before placing him in the conjured swing. A snap of her thin greenish fingers set the swing in motion.

Both women gave the baby boy a last, contented look before moving over to the sitting area. As they sat, Lily asked, "How are you, Ma'am?"

Sighing as she poured for them, Elizabeth replied, "I continue, your Grace."

The sadness and empathy in Lily's expression almost undid the dispossessed Queen. Fortunately, the younger woman passed over the issue, changing the topic to more palatable shores.

"James and I have need of your counsel and guidance, Ma'am."

The iron grey eyebrow cocked with interest, as if to say, "Go on."

"The Russians are attempting to coerce some of the countries who are vacillating in their support of your Government and our attempts to rescue the country."

"Hmm," Elizabeth murmured as she sipped her tea. This was a wonderful diversion that she could sink her teeth into. "Ivanov is still spouting his bigoted policies and trying to force other countries into what? Obedience and compliance with those policies or is he looking for the Anschluss where others stand by and do nothing."

Lily nodded around her own tea. "Right now, it appears that the Russian Bear would be amenable to the latter while hoping for the former. Ivanov and his masters in Moscow are far from idiots. They know that they lack the moral high ground or the martial might to force vassal hood upon other states. It's rumoured that the Venezuelan delegate has been in close council with the Russians and the Rumanians, but that's the only known quantity."

The Queen's eyes had a faraway look as she considered. "Magical Russia does not appear to have the will or might that the Soviet Union once possessed when it forced the confederacy of `allies' that was the Warsaw Pact. In the same breath, it seems that they are intentionally trying to freeze out the UK and our allies." Meeting Lily's gaze, she asked, "Do you believe that this is their purpose? The limited aim of isolating us as opposed to taking action against us?"

Lily sighed, sipping her tea, again. "I am beginning to believe so. They have no need to destroy us. If they can make us wither on the vine, our nuisance becomes nonsense which will become nothing."

"In normal times," the Queen replied briskly as her lesson of Foreign Affairs continued, "We would simply rely on our allies and compatriot; strong in ourself so that the Kingdom moved on and weathered the tempest. Now, however…," she trailed off, looking into her nearly empty teacup.

"Quite." Lily tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair before offering, "The Germans, Spanish and Chinese have been exceedingly supportive. Might we consider them in lieu of our traditional allies?"

Nodding in deliberation, Elizabeth replied, "That is a very interesting idea, your Grace."

.oOo.

"They're recruiting like mad, Alastor."

Terry Sheehan stroked his goatee as the infamous Mad-Eye Moody grunted in response. He was pretty sure that it was a `no shit' or maybe even an `I agree' grunt, but one could never really tell with old Mad-Eye.

Tossing the latest intelligence estimates on the table between the two Auror Commanders, Terry lazily gestured, "Over five hundred new members in the last month. Estimated total force in excess of five thousand."

Mad-Eye took a pull on his hip flask before asking, "Any foreign fighters, or are they all British and Irish?"

Terry nodded appreciatively. It was expected to be a sign that Voldemort was branching out when the foreigners started joining up. Word from Spain was that Bones and Potter were scrambling to get the historically pureblood elitist countries to squash recruitment efforts. Russia and Rumania were lost, but there was positive traction in Poland, Iran, Iraq and Egypt. Greece was waffling, so both Alastor and Terry were on the lookout for any Greeks, Russians or Rumanians in the opposition forces they were encountering.

"My lads haven't seen anyone," Terry told his compatriot. "You?"

Scowling, Alastor shook his head in negation.

The last item on Terry's informal agenda he'd not written down. It was an `Eyes-Only ULTRA' classification in the ministry. Maybe six people knew of it and the only persons in Britain that Terry was aware of were in this highly warded and secured room in an abandoned barn in Lancashire. "You heard anything from the Lion's Pride?"

He didn't know who made up the `Lion's Pride' team other than they were a covert insertion Special Forces team that had one objective: Find and Kill Lord Voldemort.

Terry didn't envy them their tasking one iota.

"Nothing," Alastor barked in reply. "I doubt we will. I've an idea who is on the team and they're too smart to break communications security." The old Auror squinted as he amended, "Unless they need us for something. They're not going to come knocking to play Quidditch."

Alastor smiled, which was a fairly disturbing expression on the scarred Auror's face. "I did hear from old Albus, though. He's been hunting in the forbidden forest." Cackling, Moody took a last pull in his flask before standing. "He's killed every kind of beastie up there short of a bloody dragon. Not sure what he's up to now, but don't be surprised if the old man pops out of nowhere."

Terry nodded as he gathered up his paperwork, stuffing it into his briefcase. Facing Alastor, he extended his hand in farewell. Moody looked him over, grunted and shook hands.

As Sheehan made his way out of the barn to his Apparition point, he smiled. He was fairly sure that the grunt had been along the lines of `don't die' or the like.

.oOo.

"I think that you've intentionally given me all the work you don't want to do."

Amelia smiled as she looked up from the weekly Exchequer report from Robert Grantham. Despite a lack of taxation capability - and therefore steady income - the Ministry in Exile was still in good shape financially. They'd spirited out all the Ministry funds directly after the government fell due to James' relationship with the goblin leadership. While she wasn't ready to trust the goblins to the same extent that her Foreign Minister did, she was willing to give a bit. After all, without their cooperation in the `minor transfer of funds', Amelia would've been begging to various countries for loans to keep their effort afloat.

It was all well and good for James Potter, the Duke of Shrewsbury, to work for a nominal one galleon per annum salary. He was one of the wealthiest wizards in Britain. The rest of the mob needed to be paid. Zeal for Queen and country didn't feed hungry mouths. As she scanned down the columns to see that her government was in good standing, Amelia silently thanked James for his efforts. Hat in hand begging wasn't something that Amelia Bones was very good at doing. Ever.

That being said, most of the Ministry personnel who'd escaped the downfall of Britain hadn't had roles very vital to war fighting. Many were clerks and bureaucrats who had no training or desire to contribute to the fields of espionage, warfare or logistics.

Amelia had given her Deputy - Hestia Black - the task to organize and make these buggers useful to the war effort. Hence the young Countess' grouchy and grumbling disposition as she stomped into the Minister's office.

"I do believe that I shall take a page out of Harry's book and begin to transfigure cretins into inanimate objects. Would you object, Amelia?" Hestia groaned as she dropped her face into her hands.

Dropping the spreadsheet onto her desk, the diminutive redhead minister sat back into her chair. "Difficult day, dear?"

"Horrid. I had to explain to Weltinsham in Magical Creatures that it really did fall into his position description to do what his supervisor directed him to do in regards to the analysis of the magical creatures that the Dark Lord has let loose to guard high value targets."

Amelia smothered a smile when the beautiful blonde woman across from her frowned and scrunched her face most disagreeably as she huffed in an artificially deep voice, "Well, m'lady it's not right, it isn't. I's always done the filin' and whatnot for the registration of `Ippogriffs, see. All this," she gestured with her hand at invisible intelligence reports, "analysis isn't what I do, see?"

"I commend you for not strangling old Mr Weltinsham, Hestia," Amelia smiled.

Hestia narrowed her eyes in a mock scowl. "You owe me dinner for that."

Now the Minister laughed aloud. Checking the clock, she saw that it was 19:30 so she stood. "Right. Before we go, where do we stand with the expatriate registration?"

Hestia sighed as she sat back in her chair. Rolling her head back on the chair she closed her eyes. "Debenham brought me up to date this morning. Right now, we've 2584 adults who've registered along with 1254 children."

The week before, Amelia had given a series of interviews in Le Monde Magique, Roma, the International Magical Herald and other periodicals urging the British expatriate readers to contact the Ministry in Exile so that relief efforts could be coordinated through Barbate, where the Ministry was temporarily located. It'd been Hestia's idea to try to consolidate those who'd escaped from the downfall of their homeland.

"How many of the two-odd thousand adults can or are willing to contribute?" Amelia asked. She knew that some of those that'd escaped would be very wealthy and had the means to live independent of employment, but Amelia wasn't above using people's basic needs to get them to help. This was war and she needed all hands on deck.

"Approximately three hundred have filled out the census forms and indicated that they are seeking employment with the Ministry in Exile." Yawning, Hestia added, "I'm not sure of skillsets as of yet."

Opening her eyes, Hestia replied, "I've got Marks growing the logistics arm of the Auror division." She flipped open her note pad to check her notes. "Right now, we have sufficient remote portkey capability to move supplies at a rate to support the two Auror commands in the field. As we both know, Lion's Pride is self-sustaining," Hestia and Amelia shared a worried glance over their missing loved ones. "But if the Auror commands subdivide into six as Terry and Alastor have recommended alongside their expected growth and recruitment, in addition to any troops the Chinese field…," she tailed off.

"We need to scout and secure new safe facilities and safe drops for the supplies," Amelia summed up succinctly. With a nod of understanding, she asked, "Food?"

Nodding, Hestia replied, "Good. Marks has two muggle suppliers on contract and they're more than capable of meeting our requirements."

"Winter's coming," the Minister observed lightly.

"Yes, and Marks has it under control. Heavy weight robes, accessories such as caps and gloves are all on order. Enchanted heating stoves have already been delivered." She grinned, "Yorkshire is apparently colder than a brass teat at night. According to Alastor, that is."

Amelia laughed. Seeing that the situation was in hand, she dropped her paperwork into the top drawer of her desk/safe combination. "Let's call it a day and get some food."

.oOo.

"Hey, love."

Lily looked up to see James come in the room. She'd just finished nursing Robbie and was changing his nappie before putting him down for the night. With a soft pop, Winky appeared before Lily with her arms outstretched in a beseeching manner.

"Let Winky take care of Lord Robbie, your Grace."

With real affection, for Winky had wormed her way into Lily's heart as much as Rauri had years before, Lily surrendered her babe to their loyal retainer. No, not a retainer. A member of our family, Lily corrected herself.

From behind, Prongs wrapped her arm about Lily's waist. "Tired?" he asked as he kissed the top of her head. With Robbie settled, Winky popped out without a word.

Sighing, Lily leaned into the embrace. "A bit, but not too bad. With him sleeping through the night, it's easier now." Robbie had started to sleep through the night on a consistent basis; a point when all parents sigh in relief and get a good night's sleep for the first time in seemingly forever. "How was work?" she asked.

She felt him place another tender kiss on the top of her head. "Fine. Had another follow up discussion with Johann. He's going to arrange a meeting with Li Peng for next week."

Lily frowned as she considered. "Why are the Germans brokering this? They don't need to introduce us to the Chinese."

"Because my fearsomely beauteous bride," she could hear the smirk in his tone, "Your incredibly dashing and attractive husband has charmed the robes off our Hun colleagues. I do believe that they might send some of their Magische Krieger to give our lads a lift."

"Mmm," Lily murmured as she wiggled into her husband's embrace. It was entirely possible that he was telling the truth, but the willingness of the Magical German Democratic Confederation to assist the British Ministry in Exile wasn't very high on her list of concerns at this time.

They were watching Robbie as his squirming settled to twitching before his little lips puckered in sleep. James' soft laughter at his son's little snores made her feel good. Whole. At the same time, she wasn't whole.

"I miss Harry," she whispered. His arms tightened as he pulled her flat against him.

"Me, too," he replied. "He ought to be here. Hermione, Padfoot, Moony, Alex…," with a last kiss, he added, "Even Billy, Neville and Susan should be here."

She was silent for a bit before proclaiming, "They will be. I have to have faith." Squeezing his hand at her waist, she amended, "We need to have faith."

The longing that had begun slowly began to build and grow. She could feel her husband's strong arms and firm chest. Most of all, she felt his love for her; for their children. "You know, there are some days that I wonder what in nine hells I was thinking of when I married you."

"I know the feeling," he jibed with a nebulous return.

Rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see it, she added, "But most of the time I thank God that we both got our act together." She closed her eyes as the emotion swamped her, "I love you with all my heart, James."

With quiet sincerity, James replied, "And I love you with all my heart, Lils."

Turning in his arms, Lily wrapped her arms about his neck, pulling him to her. Their kiss was passionate and needy. Breaking apart, but still touching, she whispered "It's been six weeks today."

"Too long," he observed.

"Let's go to be, my love," she offered.

He gently took her hand, placing a reverential kiss on her palm before leading her out of the nursery to their bedroom.

.oOo.

The air was crisp as the late autumn night crawled over northern Wales. Hermione was dead asleep. While her wounds had all been healed, she was still very tired, so Harry left the tent to enjoy the clear night and let her rest undisturbed. Exiting the tent, he heard a murmur of voices to his right. The small coal of a cigarette gave away Charlie's identity and when Harry heard Fleur's musical laugh in the same vicinity, he assumed that Bill was there as well.

Ahead, he saw the tall, lean form of Remus leaning on their picnic table, Sirius sitting next to his old friend. Meandering over, he saw that Billy was on Remus' other side. "Hey," he greeted them.

"How's Hermione?" Sirius asked immediately. He'd been very worried about his adopted daughter, but let Harry take the lead in tending to her needs. Not wanting to be suffocating, he'd hung back even when his desires were clamouring for him to be by her bedside.

Nodding, Harry accepted the silent offer of tea from Remus as he replied, "Sleeping. She woke for a bit, gave me a bollocking and then went back to bed."

The other three chortled softly in the darkness. Harry reflected that it seemed that people were naturally quieter when outside at night. "What's going on out here?"

Billy replied, "We're just talking about the day after tomorrow."

Harry nodded in understanding. They'd set up a meeting with a small werewolf pack that lived in the Cotswolds. Billy was passionate about coming to terms with the British lycanthropes so that they stayed neutral in the war. At the same time, he was insistent and dedicated in improving their lot under the expected post-war government. They were starting small, approaching the outlier packs, before heading into Yorkshire and the Scottish Highlands where the two big packs and their families lived.

"Anything new?" Harry asked as he blew on the hot tea.

The Prince shook his head in negation. "Remus and I both think we've a sound plan and approach. Simpler is better at this stage."

Harry nodded, "Fair enough." The quiet washed over them. Finally calm, Harry what looked into the dark sky as he admired the beauty of Creation.

Off to his left, he heard Charlie murmur, "'Night all." The rest of those still up and about wished him a good night.

Footsteps announced Bill and Fleur joining the other four. Bill accepted Remus' tea while Fleur declined. The conversation picked up on general topics. Hestia's promotion to the Deputy Minister spot. Lily returning to work and the wonderful help that Winky had become. Harry noticed that no one wanted to talk about the current events in Britain. At one point, Sirius and Remus launched into a two part tale of one of their misadventures at Hogwarts. As they all laughed, Harry saw how Remus' straight man routine had worked so well for those mischief makers in their teen years. Waving away his fears for the morrow, he enjoyed the moment. For the time being, he was content to escape from the war. To be a young man enjoying a chilly night with his friends and family.

.oOo

A/N

1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first twenty-six chapters of Last Casualties. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on fanfiction (dot) net. I update the status on Mondays. Most of the time. Sorry for the long delay in starting Act III of Last Casualties. It took a long time for me to get my head around where I wanted the story to go. Endings are hard; so says the Prophet Chuck. Figuring them out isn't easy. With school in session, I should be able to have more time to write. It won't be a five month hiatus between chapters for chapter 28.

2. The recommendation for this chapter a `two-fer' as I forget last chapter's rec. The first recommendation is an author and their creation: Botosphere (a consortium of 3 authors) and their Transformers universe. Diverging from the movie-verse at the end of Revenge of the Fallen, these ladies combine to create a magnificent Transformers `verse that rivals any of the books or comics. Start with `Kinship' and go from there. Fantastic reads.

The second recommendation is `Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart'. It's a very entertaining and absorbing post OOTP AU. Find it on Portkey and FF dot net.

Chapter complete 9/12/13

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