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Altered Destinies by DobbyElfLord
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Supernatural & Suspense, Harry P., Tom R. Jr., Words: 289k+, Favs: 8k+, Follows: 3k+, Published: Sep 16, 2006 Updated: Sep 1, 2007 3,864Chapter 24: Invasion
Chapter 24 – Invasion
1 April 1941
Hopton, England
A cold drizzling rain filled the sky over the village of Hopton. Situated on the English coast, Hopton lay several miles north of the closest town of Lowestaft and southeast of the city of Norwich. The start of the Second World War brought a great deal of change to the sleepy village. Prior to the war, it was a sleepy backwater. The villagers continued in their lives the way they had done for decades, if not centuries. Change came slowly to the area. At least until the war started.
After the Nazi invasion of France, the British army built defensive works all along the coast. All along the coast, people lived in fear of a German Blitzkrieg across the English Channel. Military men and equipment filled the lanes and paths up and down the eastern coast of England. The once sleepy tranquility destroyed by the sounds of heavy trucks, tanks, and weapons training. Off-duty solders filled its pubs. The RAF flew sorties out of temporary airfields sitting several miles off the coast. The roars of their Rolls-Royce and Merlin engines filled the air at all hours of the day.
Lost amidst the military preparations, three other newcomers were unnoticed. That suited the three just fine, they preferred not to be noticed. They were very experienced in not being noticed. After all, the magical community of Britain had avoided Muggle notice since the time of Merlin.
The three Hit Wizards were a part of a string of wizards monitoring the wards placed around England, Scotland and Wales. These wards prevented anyone from Apparating or Portkeying in or out of the country. Only a Ministry official with the proper magical signature could Apparate in or out of the coastal areas. The wards also warned of anyone using magical means such as brooms or carpets to enter the country. The Ministry of Magic monitored the wards from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Hit Wizards monitored the local wards and investigated any signs of Dark Army activity along the coast.
Oliver Holmes shivered in the cold spring drizzle on his broom. The young Hit Wizard was midsized with brown hair cut to resemble the military haircuts so common amongst the Muggles. His invisibility cloak contained charms to repel water and to keep him warm but the cold damp seemed to find its way in anyway. The Hit Wizard felt his joints ache in the cold wet. The broom hovered fifty feet above the ground just outside the village. The small cottage they used as a base of operations was directly below him.
"What a lovely evening for flying," he muttered.
Holmes turned his broom south along the coast to start his patrol. At the start of the war, the patrols seemed an exciting adventure. Magical refugees from the continent arrived on brooms, carpets, and even a few magically propelled boats. The Hit Wizards were kept constantly busy assisting the refugees while ensuring none of them were Dark Army Solders. It had been an exciting time. Scary and nerve wrecking, but an exciting time never the less.
The months of patrols wore away the excitement and anticipation of the assignment. Facing a resource shortage, the Ministry could only afford to place three wizard teams along most of the coast. Only in the southeast of England, around Dover and Folkestone did they place larger teams. As the narrowest part of the Channel, it seemed to make sense to increase the defenses there.
For the three man units, the months of tedium became wearing. Each wizard spent eight hours monitoring his local section of the wards. Then they spent eight hours 'on-call' to investigate any possible breaches. At least four of those hours were spent flying a broom to look for any signs of Grindelwald's forces. The other eight hours could be used for personal time, minor things like sleeping and eating.
Months of sixteen-hour days had taken a toll of the teams. The Ministry of Magic swore to them to send each team a fourth member to give the odd day off as soon as Hogwarts and the Phoenix school released their Seventh year students. While the teams appreciated the extra help, the idea of adding an untrained rookie to their team did not fill most of them with happiness.
Holmes completed Hogwarts five years ago. Then he spent two more years receiving advanced training to become a Hit Wizard. Another year would be required to become a full Auror. Hit Wizards trained to fight Dark Wizards and be the muscle of Magical Law Enforcement. Aurors added legal training and investigation skills to the combat training of the Hit Wizards. In Muggle terms, it was the difference between a common street Bobbie and a Scotland Yard detective. Holmes always wanted to be an Auror. He planned to complete his training after the war, but right now the Ministry needed fighters more then they needed investigators.
The twenty-three year-old wizard flew south through the rain towards Lowestaft. The Muggle airplanes were silent tonight. The pilots on both sides of the conflict rested in their bunks tonight. The moonless night was dark as all of the Muggle dwellings along the coast complied with the blackout ordnances of the Muggle Ministry. The low hanging clouds and blackout regulations left the night incredibly dark. As a London-bred wizard, Oliver had never seen a night as dark as this until being assigned to Hopton. Holmes mentally thanked the Department of Mysteries for the new flying goggles they provided to the Hit Wizards. They gathered the little light and magically amplified it so he could see. One could only see a couple hundred meters, but it was better than nothing was. The poor light conditions meant the wizard had to fly high enough to avoid trees and church steeples, but with the night so dark, the cloak was almost redundant.
Holmes was running twenty minutes late on his scheduled run. His fellow Hit Wizard Jonathon O'Neill burnt their evening meal and Holmes waited until fresh food was cooked. Now he was trying to catch up so he could get to sleep on time. Cruising a hundred feet off the ground, Oliver started his patrol.
Five miles south of Hopton, he caught something on the edge of his vision that stopped his heart. Crossing just within his field of vision a large number of flyers had just crossed into England from the Channel. The wizards were flying twenty feet of the ground in a loose grouping. Holmes was high enough that even if they could see through his invisibility cloak the darkness and his height should keep him from being noticed. Holmes altered his course to keep them in his sight.
A quick count and estimation told Holmes there were around eighty Dark Wizards attempting to enter his zone. Remembering his orders, Holmes reached into his robe and grabbed a medallion handing around his neck. Another gift from the Department of Mysteries, Holmes concentrated on his name, location, direction, and the count of Dark Army wizards. He mentally kept repeating his message until he felt the medallion vibrate in his hand. The Hit Wizard felt relieved with the signal his message was received. His primary duty here was complete.
Hit Wizard Oliver Holmes never lost a family member to Dark Wizards. He never had a neighbor tortured to insanity. Or who simply disappeared into the night. The Holmes were a Pureblood family committed to the Light, but known more for financial dealings then directly fighting the Dark. In fact, prior to completing his Hit Wizard training, Oliver Holmes never knowingly met a Dark Wizard. However, as a child, Oliver idolized the Light champions of the magical world. Holmes grew up loving to read about past fighters and their triumphs over the Dark. Merlin was chief among them but Holmes loved to hear the stories of the lesser wizards and witches who still made a difference.
Oliver was not naïve. As he grew up, he began to understand the details that made his heroes stories a bit greyer. The dirt, pain, and sacrifice of the reality were never truly communicated in those books written for young wizards. He understood most of those he idolized received their recognition posthumously. Even if he were naïve, Hit Wizard training would have driven it out of him.
Oliver never had much exposure to Muggles prior to arriving in Hopton. Although they were unaware of the wizards amongst them, Oliver and his mates managed to occasionally sneak into the local pub for a pint or two. Oliver met a splendid group of chaps that reminded him a great deal of his fellow Hit Wizards. They had the same cocky arrogance as the Hit Wizards. Oliver learned they were all members of the locally based RAF fighter squadrons. Oliver loved to hear them talking about flying and their combat tactics and being pilots, they loved to talk.
Their tales of air combat fascinated Oliver. The one-on-one combat of the fighter pilots reminded Oliver of the stories of the Muggle knights that worked with Merlin to support King Arthur. Rather than noble steeds, the pilots mounted their airplanes, instead of lances, they used machine guns and cannon, but they filled the same role of the knights of Arthur's court. Over the months of growing friendship with the fighter pilots, Oliver decided that if they were knights, then he would be their wizard.
One of the pilots in the squadron was Flight Lieutenant Malcolm Malfoy, a Pureblood squib exiled from his family at an early age. Malfoy was a decent bloke who recognized that a wizard was amongst them. Malfoy spent many hours explaining Muggle inventions and concepts to the Pureblood wizard.
"We could really use a flight of Spitfires about now," Holmes muttered.
Holmes moved his broom up to increase his altitude over the Dark Wizards. He remembered the pilots talking about the importance of two things in a dogfight, the advantage of speed and altitude. Holmes rose up and moved directly above and slightly behind the tail end of the wizards.
Oliver Holmes drew his wand and muttered a brief prayer his pilot-knight friends taught him they used before battle. Then he dove on the Dark Wizards.
The brooms of the early 1940's could reach a top sustained speed of ninety miles an hour. In a steep dive, they could reach about 125 miles an hour. Coming out of the dive directly behind the rearmost flyer, Oliver Holmes started cursing as fast as he could.
The first Reductos arrived as a total surprise to the Dark Wizards. The trailing flyer died before he even knew he was under attack. The Reducto smashed his spine. The next curse only brushed the targeted wizard. However, it did him little good. At ninety miles an hour, falling off your broom is never a good thing.
His superior speed soon carried Holmes in amongst the main group of flyers. Bright lights lit the sky as Holmes continued to fire his curses. Several of the Dark Wizards started to fire back at their attacker but the darkness and the nearness of their fellows made Holmes a difficult target. Indeed, of the seven Dark Wizards downed in the ensuing dogfight, the Aurors would only be able to verify Holmes downed three additional wizards after his initial two curses. So while Holmes downed five Dark Wizards, the other four were hit by spells cast by other Dark Wizards. Still, with five confirmed 'kills', Holmes became the first recorded wizarding ace in history.
Holmes reached the front of the flight of Dark Wizards. Oliver decided to climb out of the Dark Wizards and circle back. He hoped their night vision was much worse than his was and he could lose them in the darkness. He turned his broom into an almost straight up climb. With a little luck, he would be able to fly out of sight and come around for another run.
Hogwarts
James quickly walked Tom back to the Slytherin dorms. Leaving him at the entrance, James told Tom to go directly to his dorm room and stay put. Tom looked very nervous as he wrapped his arms around the only father he ever knew in a brief hug. A moment later, Tom entered the Slytherin common room and the portal sealed shut behind him.
James slipped into a handy alcove and pulled his shrunken Unspeakable robes from his pocket. He quickly enlarged the robes and pulled them on. Two minutes later The Count was making his way quickly through the school.
As he reached the Entrance Hall, a small squeaky voice called out, "What are you doing here, Count?"
James turned to see Professor Flitwick making his way down the stairs. Before James could reply, another voice interrupted.
"The Count was visiting me to discuss a research project, Filius," Dumbledore said appearing from behind James. James almost cursed him on instinct. He had no idea Albus was in the area.
The Charms professor nodded, "You seem to be in a bit of a hurry."
James looked back at Dumbledore and then at Flitwick. "An alert just came in. Dark Army wizards were just spotted coming in across the Channel near Norwich."
Flitwick looked shocked and then angry while Dumbledore maintained a calm façade.
"I am coming with you!" the future Ravenclaw Head of House insisted.
"I too will be joining you," Dumbledore said in his calm manner.
"I don't have time to argue with you. Summon your brooms. I know the rough area but the report said they were on brooms. We lost contact with the Hit Wizard who spotted them."
The Charms Master cast a single spell that resulted in two brooms appearing almost immediately. Dumbledore caught one as it passed while Flitwick caught one sized perfectly for him.
Noticing James's gaze, Flitwick smiled, "Goblin racing issue. My father gave it to me for receiving my Dueling Mastery. Much faster than the newest Cleansweep."
James just smiled. Even about to fly into a battle, Flitwick was the cheeriest staff member at Hogwarts. "We'll have to race sometime with a side bet." Flitwick showed his goblin side by giving a big grin at the idea of a bet.
"We'll fly to the edge of the school wards then Apparte to the last reported position." At the professors' agreeing nods, James led the way out of the school.
Five miles south of Hoptin
The professors and the Unspeakable appeared in a field with a quiet clap. All three had their wands drawn and scanned the area. Flashes in the sky to the west marked the probable location of the battle.
Once the area was confirmed clear, James conjured two pairs of Muggle flying goggles. Then he cast a charm on each and handed it to the professors.
"They are charmed to let you see in the dark," James explained. "The charm won't last more than a couple of hours but that should be enough. Don't look at any bright light source for too long as it could blind you."
Putting the goggles on, Flitwick exclaimed, "Marvelous! This is wonderful charm work!"
Without another word, the three wizards mounted their brooms. With James in the lead, the three wizards flew towards the battle.
The battlefield presented James with something completely new in his combat experience. Voldemort never really had more than sixty committed, marked Death Eaters. The image of his hordes came from his own terrorist genius and a large number of unmarked sympathizers within the magical community. No Death Eater attack ever numbered more than twenty Death Eaters in one place. Voldemort preferred soft targets and fear to make his point. Even the Final Battle only had fifteen Death Eaters with their werewolf and giant allies. Grindelwald was another animal entirely.
The battle was occurring on the edges of a small Muggle farm. The response team from the Ministry had taken cover in the farmhouse and behind the low stonewalls surrounding the house. James estimated twenty Ministry wizards were occupying the house and its grounds.
Around the farmhouse, James counted about seventy Dark Solders firing curses at the house. The open fields left them exposed but shields and numbers balanced the fight. James counted about eight to ten Dark Wizards taken out of the fight.
Albus turned to James, "What is your plan?"
James hesitated. Something felt… wrong about this. During his time at Hogwarts and during the Horcrux hunt, James learned to listen to his gut. "Professor Flitwick and I are going to hit them on the flank. I want to hit them hard. Professor Dumbledore, I want you to hold back. Wait for an opportunity."
"Do you suspect a trap?"
"I don't know," James answered faintly. "I can't figure out their tactics. Why stay and fight? They have to know additional reinforcements are on the way. A small force to hold the Ministry here and the rest could be all over England in five minutes. We are just inside the wards here. The boundary is only five miles further inland."
With a final survey of the area, James said, "Let's go, professor"
James and Flitwick stole quietly towards the Dark Solders. The recently tilled field allowed the fresh dirt and drizzling rain to combine to make the field a muddy mess.
When they were twenty yards away, Flitwick removed his goggles and raised his wand to a point over the Dark Army's heads. "Solis Luminotis!"
A crack filled the night as a giant sphere of light exploded into existence fifty feet directly over the heads of the Dark Army. A miniature sun complete with light and heat hovered at the Charms Master's call. The mini-sun lit the whole area as if it was mid-day.
James cancelled the charm on his glasses as the night vision charm went into overload. "Nice job, professor. Next time, warn a guy!" he said dryly.
"Whoops!" the professor laughed.
A series of screams filled the air as five of the Dark Army's wizard dropped to the ground with their robes smoking.
"Oh dear," Flitwick commented, "They seem to have included some magical vampires in their forces. This charm perfectly mirrors the light and heat of the sun, on a much smaller scale of course." James had to fight not to stare at his former Charms professor. Flitwick had the same pleased note in his voice Harry used to hear whenever Hermione managed to pick up a new charm on the first try.
Pulling himself from his Flitwick-induced shock, James noticed a couple of the Dark Wizards had noticed their arrival. James pointed his wand at the ground in front of the closest Dark Wizards.
"Eruptus!"
A black and red ball of spell energy shot from his wand to hit the ground in front of the wizards. The ground exploded at their feet, shooting a geyser of rock and mud ten feet in the air. Some of the wizards covered their heads from the debris whilst others tried to magically shield themselves.
Then another explosion occurred directly under the feet of the closest wizard. The explosion threw him into the air, landing under a coating of mud. The concussion of the explosion had at least knocked him unconscious.
A third, fourth and fifth explosion ripped through the Dark Army lines. Although only the second explosion removed a wizard completely from the fight, six wizards lay stunned on the ground at the explosions cut a straight line. Each explosion occurred four feet apart and left a round hole in the ground behind it.
"What was that?" Flitwick asked.
"It is a spell for making post holes to put in a fence. I just overpowered it a bit," James answered.
Flitwick looked like he wanted to dance. "What an excellent, creative use of an everyday charm! Five points for Gryffindor!"
James wanted to ask the professor why the points were assigned to Gryffindor, but a minor matter caught his attention. The approximately half of the sixty-odd remaining Dark Wizards turned and started to throw curses and hexes at James and Flitwick
Over the next ten minutes, James was again shocked by his former Charms professor's dueling defenses. The wizard used his small body to his advantage. As a small target, he was already a bit harder to hit. However, the tiny Dueling Master showed how he won that title. His small form never seemed to sit still. Flitwick rolled, spun and jumped out of the way of all kinds of spells. Very rarely did he even bother with a shield.
While James was impressed by Flitwick's defenses, the professor's offense reflected the carefully judged dueling environment he was trained for. None of the spells had the potential to cause lasting physical harm. (Except the min-sun for the vampires and that was more an accident then anything.) Flitwick's choices of spells were designed to reduce his opponent's shields and render them unable to continue to fight.
James took a different tact.
James dodged the first of the Dark Army curses while he drew the Voldemort wand. With a wand in each hand, James did something that appeared completely suicidal the watching Ministry wizards. He started to approach the Dark Wizards.
The green light of the Killing Curse signaled the series of spells cast by the Dark Wizards. With the Voldemort wand, James responded by conjuring a series of lead plates. The plates appeared directly in front of the path of each of the curses. The Dark Wizards were shocked to see the lead absorb their spells before dropping to the ground.
Before the plates had reached the ground, James started to retaliate. A silently cast Cutting Curse sliced into the Dark ranks. Then James cast a spell developed by a Muggle-born wizard during the war with Voldemort.
He quietly said, "Lux lucis!"
A focused, almost invisible beam of light shot out of the end of the wand. It only lasted for a split second but it left a lasting impression. The beam passed through three different Dark Wizards leaving a cauterized hole the same diameter as James's wand.
With the sudden attack by James and Flitwick, combined with the efforts of the Ministry wizards in the farmhouse, the British wizards placed the Dark Army forces on the defensive. About a third of the Dark Wizards were now down, dead, wounded, or magically incapacitated.
Then the tide turned again.
James saw it coming for just an instant before it hit. By instinct, he conjured another lead plate. However, this plate was as tall as he was and several inches thick. The instinct saved his life as well as Professor Flitwick.
A stream of Hellfire smashed into the shield. The lead turned red as it absorbed the heat of the spell. The plate absorbed most of the spell, but a concussive blast exploded the plate. James and Flitwick were hurled to the ground. The professor was knocked out instantly while James was left in a haze.
The smell of brimstone filled the air as James fought to pull himself together. All of the other spell casting had stopped with the sudden appearance of the Hellfire. James attempted to get up. The sound of someone approaching caused him to look up.
A cultured, urban voice greeted him. "Good morning. You must be the famous Count I have heard so much about. It is a terrible pleasure to finally get to see you in person. I can see why Christina is so taken with you."
James saw a medium sized wizard approaching him. His first impression was this man should be at a Muggle university teaching philosophy. He just had the academic, Ravenclaw look. Then James noticed the slightly smoking rod in the wizard's hand.
"Grindelwald, I presume? And where is your favorite psycho witch?"
The Dark Lord smiled, "Ah, she was too busy to join us tonight. I had another task for her. I must say, watching you and your little partner here tonight was a treat. You are very skilled."
"Gee, do I get an O, professor?" James asked dryly.
During the conversation, James tried to figure out his best course of action. The blast caused him to lose both of his wands. He could see them and could wandlessly summon them, but not before Grindelwald could fry him with another burst of Hellfire. To make matters worse, James could feel his leg was broken just below the knee. There was no way he could properly dodge an experienced wizard with a broken leg.
Grindelwald laughed gently at James's mocking question. He wandlessly summoned both of James's wands and Flitwick's wand also. "I would bring you as a gift to Christina, but I fear you would find some way of causing me trouble. I am sorry, but a dead enemy is so much simpler to deal with."
The Dark Lord raised his rod. The rod started to glow red as Grindelwald summoned Hellfire.
Five seconds later, James watched history repeat itself. On the other hand, was it prequel itself? (This time travel thing gave him a headache.)
A blast of force smashed the glowing rod from Grindelwald's grasp. "Hello, old friend."
The genial expression on the Dark Lord's face when talking to James disappeared. Grindelwald turned and said in a cold, menacing voice, "Hello, Albus. I should have known you would be skulking about somewhere. What made you crawl out from under your rock?"
"Albert, why did you have to follow this path? The demons will swallow your soul. Please stop this."
The Dark Lord scoffed, "Same old Albus, you think you can talk and manipulate people into doing anything you want."
The Transfiguration Master sighed. "Albert, you were my friend. The Dark magic has twisted your soul. You must turn back!"
Grindelwald laughed. "You fool; this path will lead me to untapped sources of knowledge forever beyond your reach! The mysteries of the universe will be mine to know! Now, die!"
The Dark Lord used his rant to cover his wand dropping into his hand from a sheath on his forearm. With a gesture, he sent a black curse slashing towards Dumbledore.
Dumbledore flicked the spell aside with an almost contemptuous twitch of his wand. Then Dumbledore flicked his wand again and an arc of lightning slashed down out of the sky to strike the Dark Lord. Grindelwald's shield held the lighting from him, but the ground smoked around his feet.
As a Fifth year, Harry watched Dumbledore battle Voldemort in the entry to the Ministry of Magic. What he saw then impressed the young wizard. Now James watched Dumbledore battle another Dark Wizard. Watching Dumbledore at the height of his power battle Grindelwald was a remarkable sight.
Dumbledore was always the only wizard Voldemort truly feared. Even walking into the final battle, Voldemort never really feared Harry. He respected Harry's power but never fear. Now James understood. Dumbledore was at the height of his magical power now. Tom Riddle grew up seeing the most powerful wizard of his age at his peak all through school. Voldemort must have carried that unconscious image of his former professor as he knew him in school.
The battle raged between the two wizards. Wizard neither dodged nor moved whilst they fought. This was an old-fashioned slugging match. Hellfire was met with a stream of something James could only describe as pure light. The stream of Hellfire met the stream of pure light with a searing hiss. The two wizards each willed their streams at their opponent with equal determination. Sweat and exhaustion marked both wizards' faces but neither would surrender.
Without his wand, James channeled his magic into holding a shield over himself and Flitwick. He considered trying to slip a spell in against the Dark Lord, but they were fighting on too high a level. Any outside magical interference could cause a magical explosion. The magical equivalent of a tactical nuclear explosion would be a very bad thing.
James noticed the remains of Grindelwald's forces had pulled back from the farmhouse. They were now gathered on the far end of the tilled field and out of spell range. They were just at the limits of the light from Flitwick's mini-sun but James could see they all had their brooms.
At some unseen signal, Grindelwald gave a gigantic heave to his Hellfire. The sudden surge pushed Dumbledore back and to one knee. With an odd twist of his wand, the Hellfire angled slightly up. The matching light from Dumbledore followed it up. Once the Dumbledore's beam was pointing over the Dark Lord, he released his Hellfire. The sudden loss of counter pressure caused Dumbledore to pitch forward and stumble.
"Sorry, Albus, I would love to stay and play with you, but I really must be going." The Dark Lord summoned his rod as a young wizard arrived on a flying carpet. It hovered a couple inches off the ground as the Dark Lord calmly stepped aboard. The carpet flew away flanked by the Dark Lord's remaining forces.
Three minutes later, sixty fresh Aurors, Unspeakables and Hit Wizards arrived from the Ministry. After the battle at the farm, Grindelwald's forces returned to the Continent. The fresh Ministry forces pursued them almost to the coast of France, but their lead was just a bit too much.
James dragged himself over to where Albus lay exhausted in the muddy field. After watching Grindelwald fly out of sight, the professor dropped to the ground, his energy spent. James rolled him over and checked for breathing and a pulse. Dumbledore seemed fine, just extremely exhausted.
James felt a small hand on his shoulder. He turned slightly to see Flitwick standing beside him. The small movement caused James to wince in pain from his broken leg.
"I seemed to have missed most of the excitement," the usually cheery professor said quietly. He offered James both of his wands back.
"Grindelwald decided to pay us a visit. He almost got the pair of us in his opening attack," James answered while taking his wands back. James pointed his wand at his leg and quietly cast a battlefield-healing spell on it. The magic caused the leg to set itself and rapidly heal.
"Doesn't that hurt?" asked an observing Flitwick.
As the spell passed, James groaned, "You have no idea." The spell would instantly set and heal the leg. Unfortunately, it also caused you to feel all of the pain you would feel if it was set and healed the Muggle way only all at once.
"I thought that was a Dark spell."
James gingerly stood up to test his newly healed leg. "No, only controlled. It would be very easy to misuse."
Flitwick nodded. James could see him filing the information away in his brilliant brain.
The Charms Master levitated the unconscious Dumbledore out of the mud. "Let's take Professor Dumbledore over to the farm house. I don't think this cold and damp would be good for him.
The Ministry wizards in the farmhouse watched them approach. As James and Flitwick crossed into the farmyard with the floating Dumbledore, James paused in shock. Twenty wizards had been manning the house when James arrived on the scene. Now James saw ten wizards and witches still alert and moving around. Five were unconscious from their wounds. Fifteen additional witches and wizards lay still on the floor.
James recognized many of the dead. Most were fresh recruits no more than five years out of Hogwarts. Others were refugees from European Ministries that escaped to England. James also recognized Auror Franklin. Franklin had been the Auror in charge of Tom's case at the orphanage.
James conjured a bed for the unconscious Dumbledore. Flitwick placed him gently onto the bed.
"I am going out to check if any of the Dark Solders are still alive," James told Flitwick. Flitwick nodded absently as he started doing a full medical scan on his collogue.
James was walking back out to the field when the Ministry reinforcements retuned. Auror Moody was one of the Ministry personnel who landed nearby.
"Count," Moody said in greeting. "The Dark Lord's forces pulled all the way back to France."
James frowned and motioned for the Auror to accompany him. "Something about this whole thing is wrong, Moody."
They approached the first Dark Wizard's body. Aside from his wand, the wizard did not have any kind of personal items. They moved on to the next body and then the one after that. All of the Dark Solders were dead. Some of them were obviously killed by their own retreating forces.
Moody looked grim as they circled the battlefield. Finally, he said what they were both thinking. "This was not an invasion. Either it was a test or a diversion."
James nodded, "If they had pushed on instead of fighting, they could have Appartted all over England. It would have taken forever to trace them all. They stood and fought while they knew the Ministry would be sending reinforcements. It was a large enough group to demand our attention but not strong enough to be a threat to the Ministry's quick-reaction forces." Taking one last look around, James said, "Come on. I want to see if Dumbledore is awake yet. I have some questions for the professor.
Dumbledore had awoken just before James returned with Moody. He was sitting on the bed sipping on a cup of tea. Around him, Healers from St. Mungos worked on the injured before moving them back to the magical hospital.
"Ah, Count! How are you doing tonight?"
"I think I should be asking you that question, professor."
Dumbledore smiled with a slight twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Indeed, I suspect Albert and I put on something of a show tonight."
"I guess you could say that, "James answered dryly. "What did you hit him with? The DoM has been looking for something to counteract Grindelwald's Hellfire for at least ten years." Flitwick looked on with an interested expression to hear the answer also.
Dumbledore wandlessly cast a privacy charm. "I have been looking into countering Albert's magic for considerably longer. I would not be surprised if they found the same answer and discarded it as being too difficult to achieve."
"What did you use?" Flitwick asked curiously.
Dumbledore smiled gently at them. "The only thing that can counter demonic energy is purity. Where Albert seeks the pure power of evil counter him, I had to seek the pure power of good. To see the good in all men and believe in their redemption."
Moody's eyes had grown with Dumbledore's comments. "Is that why you refuse to even have the Dark Arts demonstrated at Hogwarts for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"
Dumbledore smiled, "The Dark Arts damage ones soul. I would not like to see any of my students so damaged."
James was floored. Was this why Dumbledore never looked into his well-being while growing up with the Dursleys? Was this why he refused to believe Snape was such an evil git until it was too late? The more James thought about it the more true it seemed. However, why was he just hearing about this? Not much was known in Harry's time on how Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. Why would this be hidden in the future?
Hogwarts
James, Dumbledore and Flitwick arrived outside the Hogwart's gates two hours later with barely a sound. The Ministry finally released the three wizards after telling their story to three different groups of senior officials. James finally whispered something in Minister Nott's ear to get them released before the Hogwarts students woke up.
James turned to the two professors. "Professors, I deeply appreciate your efforts tonight. You helped save a great many lives tonight."
The diminutive Charms professor nodded excitedly. "We are only lucky that you were visiting with Professor Dumbledore when the alert arrived. Otherwise Grindelwald could have succeeded!"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly, "Indeed, my old friend has grown significantly in his power since our days as students. I fear has moved far down the path of the oldest of Dark magic."
James nodded under his Unspeakable cloak. "He sure caught the Ministry by surprise. Gentlemen, again, I thank you. I must be about my duties." The professors said good night and turned to make their walk up to the school as James Apparated away.
James arrived just inside the Forbidden Forest and assumed his bat form. A short flight later and he was within the castle. Exhausted from the large amount of magic use and his injuries, James changed back to his human form and then to the wolf. In a tired trot, the wolf made its way down to the Slytherin common room.
The common room was empty except for a First year boy asleep on one of the couches. A book across his chest indicated he fell asleep whist studying. James sniffed the small boy and then made his way to his corner. Snuffles made a slight woof in greeting and returned to his sleep.
James curled up in a position where he could see the common room. Just before he fell asleep, his eyes fell on the young boy and a slight pain crossed his heart. It had been nine years for James since one of the worst days in the life of Harry Potter. The loss of his godfather remained a slight sting but time allowed him to focus on the positive memories. The young boy asleep on the couch looked like he stepped from the collection of Marauder pictures he had received from Remus.
Closing his eyes, James's last conscious thought was how much Orion Black looked like his future son, Sirius Orion Black.
Outside the village of Tunstall, England
Five cloaked figures entered the small cottage outside the village of Tunstall. Any locals observing them entering the cottage would have been surprised. The abandoned cottage's roof had fallen in and the garden was overgrown. No one had lived in the house according to local legend in almost five hundred years. However, no local Muggles were around to witness the sight and no registered witch or wizard lived within fifty miles according to British Ministry of Magic records.
Magical folk saw the cottage very differently. It was a well-kept summer cabin, a bit dark, but very well maintained in a fashion that screamed money. The fireplace lit at a gesture as the group entered the cottage.
As the group shook the damp off their cloaks, a sixth dark figure walked in from another room. "I trust you had a nice flight?" a man's voice asked in an ironic tone.
One of the figures turned on him with a wand drawn. After a moment, the wand lowered and a woman's voice hissed, "Black, one of these days your sense of humor is going to get you killed."
"Relax, Christina. I just left the Ministry. They have no idea you made it into the country. The fools at the Ministry called in almost all of their area teams to stop the Dark Lord's 'invasion'. Your entry in Galeston was undetected."
Christina returned her wand to its holster. Then she removed her cloak and handed it to a member of her team. The Dark Witch turned back to Black. "How did the attack go?"
Acturus Black settled into a deep, comfortable looking chair. "It sounded most exciting. I was not there of course. As planned, I volunteered to monitor the national wards so the Auror on duty could join in the festivities."
"Casualties?" one of the Dark Wizards asked.
Black frowned slightly, "About 50 percent of the diversionary force was lost."
"That high? We only anticipated 20 percent."
"The damn Count arrived from wherever he has been hiding with some friends. According to the reports, they smashed into our flank like a hammer. We could have lost the whole force if the Dark Lord hadn't arrived."
Christina looked shocked. "We lost half the force even with the Dark Lord's assistance?"
Black shook his hand in a back and forth motion. "We lost most of them before he arrived. He was able to hold them back long enough for our force to retreat as planned."
"Why didn't the Dark Lord kill all of the British Aurors? He is much more powerful than any of them." one wizard asked.
Black told them about the Dark Lord's battle with his old schoolmate, Dumbledore. "Say what you want about that old fool, but Dumbledore is just about the only wizard in England who has the raw power to face the Dark Lord's Hellfire magic. Somehow he was able to hold the Hellfire back."
Christina nodded her silent agreement. She turned to one of the wizards with her and motioned to an empty space on the wall.
The wizard withdrew a small object from a bag. With a gesture of his wand, it grew into a very nice looking wall mirror with a series of jewels surrounding it. He cast a Permanent Sticking charm on the back and placed it against the wall. Once he was done, he backed up and nodded respectfully at Christina.
The witch walked over to the mirror while drawing a small dagger from within her robes. She sliced her palm and watched as the blood welled up. Drawing back her sleeve, Christina placed her bloody palm on the eight largest jewels while muttering under her breath. The blood was absorbed into the mirror. Finished, Christina used her wand to heal her hand.
Christina turned back to the mirror. "My Lord."
After a moment, the mirror answered, "Christina, it is good to see you completed your task."
"Yes, milord. According to Black, the British Ministry is unaware of our arrival. We will start our hunt for Slytherin's Heir in the morning."
The voice from the mirror chuckled, "Excellent. Do not fail me, Christina. Find him. Bring me the Slytherin Heir. I need him alive."
"Yes, milord. As you command"
Hopton
One week after Grindelwald's thrust into England, Oliver Holmes became the first Order of Merlin, First Class winner of the war against Grindelwald.
Posthumously
Holmes's luck had failed when a Cutting Curse sliced across the rear of his broom during his climb. His broom cut in two, Oliver Holmes dropped forty feet to the ground below at a rate of over 95 miles per hour. His body was found broken lying at the foot of an oak tree. It appeared he survived the landing for a short time. His eyes were still open and a small smile was on his face as he starred up at the sky.
After hearing from Hit Wizard O'Neill about the circumstance of Holmes's death, Lt. Malfoy decided to do something about it. Telling his captain that Holmes was RAF Intelligence, Holmes became the first and only wizard honored with his name included on the roles of the fallen among the pilot-knights he befriended.
A/N This chapter is dedicated to Professor Liviu Librescu of Virginia Tech. A professor standing defenseless against a murderer to give his students time to escape to safety is an example of courage and dedication to us all.
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