DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you've seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$

A/N: Rated M for language.


MONDAY, AUGUST 26th, 1996 – Black House, Charenwell.

It was a typical Monday at the Manors as the nine families flooded into Black House early in the morning some to learn whether they were pregnant, others to learn what they were having and the rest just to find out. Rhonda, Connie and Cissy were among the nine ladies, including Charlie Weasley's Consort Tatiana who learned they were expecting. For Harry's family, this meant that everyone who had permission was now expecting. Of the twenty-two girls who were currently old enough to seek permission, there were only six who had not thus far although Tabatha spoke for the six stating they would probably start to ask in a month or so. There was also a possible twenty-third as Astoria would be old enough before the year was out, but she was not saying anything about when she would ask aside from hinting it might be sooner than she had originally stated. Three of Harry's ladies were far enough along to learn what they were having and when. Ginny found she was expecting a daughter and Karen and Stacey both learned they were having sons. They were among the twenty women who heard similar news. Padma, Parvati, Sally-Anne, Kathryn and Erin joined fifteen others in the room as the next group to begin flight training with the Air Force. There would be no others from Harry's family entering the service for a long while.

"Right," Minerva announced loudly once everyone had settled down from the usual Monday morning routine. "For those of you who have forgotten, today will be the first day of school here at The Manors."

There were some groans and some applauding as well. No one was surprised that Hermione was one of those clapping.

"First off, I would like everyone who has completed their NEWTs to please stand at the back of the room." Including the Weasley men, Frank and Remus, thirty-eight moved to the back of the East Dining Room. "Naturally, having completed your NEWTs you require no further education. But please listen in as you may hear something that interests you. Next, I'd like all of those aged nineteen or older to take seats to my far right." Thirty-one witches including Cissy did as Minerva asked. "Okay. Next to them I want to see all of you who have taken their OWLs but are eighteen or younger." Including Harry and Neville, there were forty-three young people in this group. "Next to them, I'd like the young ladies born before 1982 who have yet to take their OWLs." Twelve girls sat in this group. "And last but not least, all of you born in 1982 and later." Twenty girls took seats to the far left.

"Right then. These four groups represent four different educational tracks. We'll deal with the youngest group first. The twenty of you are all too young for the Air Force. As a result, you will be attending The Manor's Secondary School as regular students. This means that for most of your classes you will be with students in your current year: First through Fourth as appropriate. Miss Delacour will be our lone First Year. Yes, she is but nine years old. The truth is she will be the only one in our first combined experimental track which will include none magical classes such as maths, non-magical sciences, literature and such. Miss Delacour?"

"Oui? Yes?" Gabrielle said.

"Although we know you're ability to speak English needs work, we are confident you can understand it well enough for our purposes. Miss Gabrielle has the necessary skills to enter her year which will be the first year we offer magical studies. In addition to maths, reading and writing, the first year of History and Science, she will be taking Potions, Introduction to Charms and Introduction to Defensive Magic – that's like Defense against the Dark Arts.

"The remaining nineteen of you will be in classes not unlike what you had at school before. Just as in Britain, your pre-OWL required magical courses are Astronomy, Charms, Defense, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration. Our eighteen Third and Fourth Years will have elective courses in Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creature and one we did not have in Britain but is sanctioned by the ICW Healing Arts. A NEWT in that class is all that is required to continue on into the Healing fields. The lot of you will be attending classes with other children from The Manors and a few from Pottersport and Charlestown. Your school day will begin at eight o'clock and continue to three in the afternoon although you will have a break for lunch and at least one other break during the day. Aside from Miss Delacour, you will all be taking the same classes in History and another course to be named later that deals with Geography and the study of magical and non-magical cultures and societies.

"Our next two older groups are our 'Fast Track' OWL and NEWT candidates. As most of you are or will be in the Air Force, your classes will not begin until two or three in the afternoon and you have classes until as late as seven in the evenings. Unlike Britain, we will be requiring all of you to take Charms, Defense, Healing, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration and the electives will be in Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Like your younger 'sisters,' you will also take our History class and that class to be named later. You classes will also be held at The Manors Secondary School. Because of your training schedule, you will be allowed to Floo there from the Base as needed.

"For those of you who will be in the Fast Track, you will be the only ones. None of the other children at your level attending the Manors school will be with you. We're calling it the Fast Track not because it will be but because it can be. If you apply yourself, you can conceivably sit your exams in the Summer. But we recognize that all of you have additional commitments and responsibilities. While your education is important, it is not the only important thing in your lives right now. And, of course, another reason you are not part of the normal day courses is because so many of you are or will be pregnant and we feel this separation will create both a more flexible learning situation and you will be in class where your condition is the norm as opposed to the extremely odd exception.

"For those of you who will be attending classes at The Manors school, you will attend an orientation this afternoon at three at the school where you will be shown your classrooms, meet your professors and receive your course books and schedules. One thing you all should note. Unlike Hogwarts and some of the other schools, we will have more than one professor per course. It is the plan that eventually we will have one professor teaching basic Levels magic for each course, that being the equivalent to First through Third Year. Another professor will teach Intermediate Levels which will take you through your OWLs and a third will teach Advanced or NEWT levels. Each course is under the supervision of its Department Chair to ensure that the classes are integrated, by that I mean that the materials that should be taught at each year so that the next year can be taught are coordinated.

"Finally, we come to the last group and this can apply to all of you in back as well. While Charenwell has not had its own magical Secondary School before now, one thing we've had for some time that Magical Britain does not have at all is a comprehensive Adult Education system. Courses are currently offered at Pottersport and Port of Darby and we will be expanding the program to Jamestown, Magoran Bay and maybe the new city in the Spring.

"Basically, Adult Education will teach anything you could have learned in Secondary School and more. If you'd like to attain an OWL or NEWT in a course you did not take before, you can do it there. You can also retake courses for better results. Finally, there are courses in studies beyond NEWT levels. If you have the prerequisite qualifications, you can seek masteries in several fields of magical study as well as qualify for certain specialized fields such as Curse Breaking and Warding, Healing, Magical Wildlife Management, Enchanting and so on. About the only magical specialty that is not taught is Wand Making as that is still an Apprenticeship. Those of you to my left will be given a course catalog and will attend the orientation and registration this week at the Old Grand Hotel in Pottersport. That event will take place from eight in the morning until eight in the evening so you can attend at your convenience. You will soon note there are three class sessions a day divided into two periods. Morning Session is from nine until noon. The Afternoon Session is from two until five and the Evening Session is from seven until ten which is to allow the participants to fit their classes into their schedules…"

MONDAY, AUGUST 26th, 1886 – Pottersport, Charenwell.

Charenwell's National Rail was originally built in the 1870's. It was built primarily to move freight between the three Farms and to and from the Port of Darby although even then it was also seen as a means of moving people as well. A large rail station was built on the north side of Pottersport adjacent to the freight yard. The passenger station complex was inspired by St. Pancras station in London which had been completed about the same time that the Charenwell railroad began construction. It was smaller than its inspiration with platforms that served up to four trains rather than the twelve served in the London station at the time. Like its inspiration, the front of the station was an ornate, red brick hotel with an ornate clock tower and other towers and spires.

But the hotel had never been what its builders had hoped. After all, Charenwell did not have a large population and about the only time there was any real demand for hotel space would be for an investiture of the Duke or a State Visit. The hotel was finished in 1881, three years after the investiture of Duke James VI. Edward the IV's investiture was not until 1921. Charlus II was in 1941. Charles I was not until 1978 and Harry's had been the only other one. As for the State visits that were not a part of an investiture, there had not been one until King George V in 1919 following what was then called "The Great War" and it was in recognition of Charenwell's contribution to the effort as limited as it was. George VI visited once as King in 1946 for similar reasons. It was not until 1956 that the Queen began to make regular visits and even under her reign there had been no visits during the Stewardship. Basically, this meant the Hotel was a "white elephant." While a small part of it remained a hotel, most of it had long been used for other purposes and since 1961 it was used as Pottersport's Adult Education facility. But the rail station itself was fairly busy and the former hotel was still an elegant entryway with some nice shops and a very good restaurant as well.

The station had been built practically next to the bluffs. This had been done since the land to its west was near the harbor and bay and was better used for other purposes. The location had proved fortuitous when Harry had called for the building of Jamestown. Pottersport's main station and freight yard would now be a spur. The main rail line entered a tunnel to the north of the station that continued for about five miles before emerging south of the town. This "Long Tunnel" was the main line. A new rail spur now passed right beside the station before entering its own tunnel. This would be the passenger line adding two platforms to the station itself (7 & 8) before it too entered its own tunnel with two additional stations for passengers serving Pottersport, both underground. Those stations would be part of the commuter rail service when it opened as would the two new platforms. "National" service to North Farm, East Farm and Port of Darby would continue to arrive and depart from the old station.

Seamus Finnegan and his father and the scores of other Irish Volunteers who had arrived in central Pottersort that morning by Gringotts Floo were unaware of any of this. For them, they had no idea where they were. When they arrived (short about three of their original number), they were directed to waiting motor busses parked just outside the bank and once the bus was filled, it left bringing them to the fancy rail station. They were then directed to the train waiting at the new Platform 7 which had left Jamestown earlier that morning, although again they did not know this. Seamus had only a small suitcase with a few changes of clothes. As his father was not a "recruit," he had a trunk. Each carried a large envelope containing their new passports and important documents from the "Provisional Magical Government of the United Irish Republic." The carriages had compartments not unlike the Hogwarts Express although Seamus would later observe it looked a lot "newer." They found a compartment that only had two other men in it. One looked to be about the same age – maybe a little younger – as Seamus's father and the other was a large boy who looked to be about Seamus's age. They entered quietly and placed their luggage in the overhead racks before sitting. The two others were seated on benches facing each other by the window leaving Seamus and his father near the door to the compartment.

The man looked at his watch and sighed. "It'll be a while before we leave. The schedule says we depart at ten and it's not even nine."

The boy shrugged. "Not like I had other plans for today. Still…"

"Might be faster to drive it," the man agreed, "what with this sitting around and all. But our car hasn't yet arrived from Britain so that was out."

"Don't have my driving license yet," the young man said. "My dad drove me here earlier, but then had to turn right about and drive to his job in Jamestown so I've been here a while. My fiancé and I had a lovely brunch at the restaurant. Had I known I'd be waiting this long, I'd probably still be with her. We could also have walked from her place or mine for that matter but…"

"So you're from around here?"

The boy nodded. "I live 'Bluff Side' a few streets south of High Street. Clara – that's my fiancé – is 'Water Side' a few streets north of High Street."

The man nodded. "Brought the family up here on the motor bus a couple days after we moved from Jamestown. I must say this town has its charms."

"Jamestown will as well, although it will have a much more modern look, according to my Cousin," the boy replied. "Pottersport has the advantage – I guess – of being several hundred years old although I think only Government House and St. John's Cathedral are really that old."

"My wife likes the shopping," the man mused.

"Not that I'm into that sort of thing, but it makes sense. Jamestown's only just starting to fill," the boy said. "My Cousin says it will also have decent shopping and Martha's is opening soon. The original Martha's Restaurant is in Potter Vineyard. Her son is opening another version on the beach. Give it a year and there'll be shops and restaurants all along Front Street. According to my cousin, the long term plan calls for shops that you won't be able to find here in Pottersport. After the Troubles are over, they're planning to open resorts and such."

"I take it you're off to join up as well?" the man asked changing the subject.

"Aren't we all?" the boy replied. "This is a special train, you know. Just us recruits. The regulars are still running from the other platforms."

"I'm just wondering how this all will work," the man said. "My family arrived here just last week and we looked at the job postings and such. There weren't any really in my line of work but then I spoke with one of the Army types and … here I am."

"Really? What's your recruit number?" the boy asked.

"AD06271," he replied.

"Must have some special skill," the boy said, "one they want like yesterday. The paper said that unless you're told otherwise because you have a special skill, numbers ending in 00001 through 00887 were supposed to show up."

"What's your number?"

The boy smiled proudly. "AA00001. My fiancé is AA00002 but she's Air Force not Army and will be off for training in about four weeks we were told. She and I were first in the queue the first day and the doors here in Pottersport opened a few minutes before they did in Port of Darby."

"I'm still wondering how this'll work," the man said. "I mean I have no problem with the 'cause of the Troubles back there, but I'm not a wand waver like you."

"Neither am I," the boy said.

"But … you're from here!"

"Not really. I'm actually from Surrey outside London. My Dad works for Grunnings and his company's opening a plant in Jamestown so we moved here. My Cousin's magical as was my Aunt on my Mum's side but she died when I was a baby so I never met her. But the Army's not supposed to really care about magic – unless you're wanting to be a Magical Sapper or Healer or such. A Sapper might be cool. I understand they blow things up. But infantry gets to snuff the bad guys and you don't need magic to do that so I'm fine with that. My fiancé, though, she's from here and a really nice and drop dead gorgeous witch although I might be a little biased about her. When this nonsense is all said and done and we're married – although we'll probably get hitched as soon as we can regardless – we intend to live here. I rather like it here."

"London myself," the man said. "I was with the Metro Police – homicide detective. Apparently there's not much of a need for that here, not like in London. But there is a need for Intelligence Officers for the Army. The jobs requires similar skills although instead of trying to figure out what had happened, this job tries to figure out what can or will happen which is why I'm here and not looking at the job postings. Cecil Turner."

"Dudley Dursley," the boy replied.

"Still, I wonder how Muggles like us can fight wizards and such," Cecil said.

"Good question," Seamus said although his father was silent.

"Easy answer," Dudley replied. "It also explains why there'll be loads of magicals in the Army and us non-magicals as well. The only trick to fighting a wizard is finding them when you're ready to knock them on the head and making sure they can't snuff you or get away before you snuff them. Now the finding them bit I don't know much about. But I've been told that a gun can kill a wizard just as sure as it can kill anyone else and at much longer ranges than any of their magic. And according to my Cousin who knows a bit, it can take years to teach a wizard to fight with magic but only a few months to teach anyone to fight with a gun, although the Army lot is hoping we have a year or more to get ready before we have to 'cause the more training we have the better we'll be at fighting when the time comes."

"But it's illegal for a wizard to use a gun!" Seamus protested.

"Says who?" Dudley replied.

"It's been that way for ages!"

"Not here it hasn't."

"But the Statute of Secrecy…"

"Ah, yes. Heard of it, you know. My Cousin lived with my family growing up and all so we learned a little 'bout it. Says that you have to be seventeen or some such to do magic outside of school, right?"

Seamus nodded.

"That's in Britain and you're not there anymore are you?"


"In this country, there is no Statute of Secrecy. They don't need one 'cause everyone here is either magical or already knows about it. There's nothing to hide from Muggles as it were."

"But, but it doesn't look magical."

"He talked about that bit too," Dudley said. "Candles for light, quills for pens and not even ones with metal tips, sounds positively primitive if you ask me. They fear technology, he says. What little they seem to have is fake. This country never really feared it so there's magic all over the place, but there's cars and trains and planes and telly and all the rest too."

"Why would a wizard need that?"

"I take it you're a British Magical," Dudley said.

"Irish actually."

"Really? My Cousin said the Irish are throwing in with us or us with them but that's really recent. Didn't expect to have you show up this soon."

"We're just the advanced group," Seamus's father said. "Frank Finnegan and this is my son Seamus. We live near Dublin but are here to start to form the Irish Magical Army. I'm a Muggle myself and served in the Muggle Army some years ago which is why the Magical Council asked me to join up. The wife's magical as are our three children. Seamus here's old enough for the Service and was attending Hogwarts which we no longer support. His younger brother and sister attend St. Pat's after some of the stuff that happened at that other school Seamus's Second Year."

"My Cousin went there as well," Dudley said. "He says there's something seriously off with the school or at least with the Headmaster and isn't about to return."

"My Mum would agree with your Cousin," Seamus said. "She thinks Dumbledore – that's the Headmaster – is a total nutter. The only reason I went there at all was 'cause her family's gone there for ages; that and it's bloody hard to transfer schools once you start. So you're not Irish Army then? Are the Brits having an Army too?"

"Wouldn't make much sense for the British magicals to have an Army training alongside the Irish who are doing it to break away, would it?" Dudley said. The two Irishmen looked a little shocked. "This is Charenwell and we're joining their Army."

"Charenwell? The Daily Prophet says that…"

"Seamus," Frank Finnegan interrupted, "about the only thing that paper ever got right was that Dumbledore's an arse and even then they change their mind about him."

"Besides," Dudley added, "according to my Cousin, the only reporter from that paper who ever made it here or knowingly met anyone from here has never left or filed a story about it. She's currently a guest of the Prison and will remain so until the Duke tires of her being there – which won't be anytime soon."

"Um," Seamus began, "what did the reporter do?"

"She arrived here without the necessary papers or permission," Dudley said. "I think they say she's a suspected British Magical spy or saboteur. Guess that's the reason she's only in prison and not the scaffold, assuming they execute spies here which I can't say that they do. My Cousin said the Duke toyed with the idea of selling tickets to see her in her pen like a zoo or something but decided that was too cruel in the end. Seriously though, she's being treated as a … well a War prisoner. They'll probably let her go when it's over."

"Still," Seamus said, "you'd think that this Charenwell place is our enemy."

"Not of the Irish," Dudley replied. "You might've been if you lot supported the magical government in London."

"Why would we do that?"

Dudley shrugged. "You don't so it doesn't matter. The rest of Magical Britain, that's another matter altogether. Charenwell has several issues with that government and the fools that support it, any one of which would justify a war. My Cousin said the Duke was thrilled that Ireland wants no part of the rest of the place."

"What did the Ministry do?" Frank Finnegan asked.

"And why does this Duke like the Irish?" Seamus added.

"As for the Ministry," Dudley said, "the list is rather lengthy. First off, they disregard international law and rules and act as if the rest of the world doesn't matter. Then … well they held our Duke as a virtual prisoner for fifteen years. Our Duke was born there 'cause of the last war there and his parents were stuck there at the time. But then when his parents died in that war, the Magical Brits kept him there going so far as to say they had no idea where he was and all that. Bunch of lies really. SOMEONE knew. Our Lord Mayor found him and brought him back – without their permission, of course. Then there's the fact that when the last Duke passed away the head of that government felt he had the right to sell Charenwell girls into slavery if they were found in Britain and as most girls that age attend school there ... well, you get the picture. Naturally when we caught on they denied it, but we already had the proof. When confronted they proved most uncooperative and even tried to attack us. Didn't go too well for them. Finally, there's the fact that they are thumbing their collective noses at their rightful ruler who had to come to us for help."

"Rightful ruler?"

Dudley nodded. "By ancient treaty, the British Magical government is supposed to answer to the Crown of England. Charenwell was kind of a part of that too, but as an ally to the Crown, not as Vassal. The Magical Brits seem to have forgotten that they are Subjects of Her Majesty. Charenwell has never forgotten our place within the Commonwealth. Her Majesty was considering direct intervention but when the Duke came home and assumed his duties, she turned to us – her loyal magical subjects – to set things right although she understands it will be a while before we can."

"But Ireland is not part of that," Seamus protested.

"Ah," Frank said, "but that's not absolutely true now, is it? Ulster is part of Britain."

"But the rest isn't."

"Not on the Muggle side of the fence. But think about it son. If Magical Ireland is governed by the Wizengamot and Ministry of Magic in London and if that government is supposed to answer to the Crown; then Magical Ireland does as well. As you well know, ever since the last Irish seat was lost there's been a move for independence. It's come and gone depending upon how annoying things were but the events of this summer pushed it too far in many people's opinion. We don't want to be dragged into their mess and the only way to avoid that is not to be a part of it – to be our own country."

"Kind of explains the Duke's position according to my Cousin," Dudley said.

"Oh?" the two Irishmen asked.

"The Duke's issue is with Voldemort – yes he knows about that wanker – and the magical government over there. Okay, he also has issues with Death Eaters and any who support them. But he does not take issue with Magical Britain as a people except to the extent that many of them are a backwards lot who either can't or won't think for themselves. Then again, since they have no say in who's in their Government, perhaps there's no point. The Queen has issues with that government 'cause they can't keep their house in order as they should and then lie to her and her government about it. The Troubles are crossing into the non-magical world and do those magicals expect the rest to take no notice? They should, but they don't seem to act that way at all.

"According to my Cousin, the Duke was concerned about Ireland. He does not want to have to fight there at all. First off, Ireland is a big place; not as big as Britain but big enough and it's not like our Army's gonna be huge. Fighting in either will be difficult but both at the same time would be too much. Second, it almost seems unnecessary but necessary at the same time. After all, most all if not all the Death Eaters are not there and neither is the Magical Government of Britain. In Britain and Ulster, he would be doing the bidding of Her Majesty's Government and working with them. But the south of Ireland's another story altogether. When we're ready, we can operate with some freedom in Britain and the non-magicals'll help cover it up. But unless Ireland were out of the picture to begin with, we would have to either go there eventually to get the bad guys or go there in the beginning to keep the bad guys out and, were we to do that without so much as a by your leave from the government of the Republic of Ireland … well that might cause problems. But it would be necessary 'cause that's where the bad guys could run to hide. No sane person wants an open war between magicals and non-magicals. In the end, the magicals would lose but it would not be pretty. So the Duke was vexed by what he called the Irish Issue that is until Magical Ireland asked for help, even if it was limited to diplomatic support. Turns out it got us an in with the non-magical government to at least discuss the stuff and here we are."

"That seems to make sense in a way," Cecil said. "Although I dare say your Cousin either is really smart and makes good guesses or he really knows what's going on."

"Don't know how smart he is," Dudley said, "aside from the fact he's probably smarter than I am. But he does know what's going on probably better than most."

"How's that, if I may ask?" Frank Finnegan asked.

"Simple really. My Cousin is Harry the First, Twenty-Seventh Duke of Charenwell. And don't think I get any favors for that aside from invites to weddings and such. I got to earn my way just like the next guy…"

MONDAY, AUGUST 26th, Magoran Bay Army Post, Charenwell.

The train finally arrived at the Base and the passengers all disembarked at the platform. It was clear that another train was there as well and a crowd of passengers were also disembarking, all of them heading along the platform to the entrance to the station and then outside, across a road and through a gate beyond which were a line of tables each with a person seated behind it. It was obvious that this was where they were to queue up for some reason. Each table had a sign over it with letters such as "A – C" and so on. A man with some kind of amplified voice told them to stand in the queue with the letters corresponding to their last names. As it worked out, Dudley and the Finnegans were in the same queue, the Finnegans, who were closer to the door on the railway carriage, were just in front of Dudley.

"Last name, first name, initials and service number," a voice announced.

"Finnegan, Frank S. BF-06605," the older Finnegan said.


Mr. Finnegan obviously handed the man at the desk his envelope as the man was going through it.

"I see," the man said. "You were a Corporal in the Irish Army a while back? Says here you're to be part of that Cadre."

"Yes Sir."

"Right then. There's a Staff Sergeant from the Royal Irish Regiment down the way who'll get you sorted. Can't miss 'im 'cause he's got a green feather in his cap."

Mr. Finnegan turned to his son. "I'll see you around, Lad."

The boy just nodded.

"Last name, first name, initials and service number," the voice announced again.

"Uh," Seamus began. "Finnegan, Seamus D. BF-06698."

"One of our other Irish friends, eh? Paperwork?"

A few seconds later the man at the desk continued. "Right then, queue up by the sign down the way with the number four on it."

As soon as Seamus walked off it was Dudley's turn.

"Dursley, Dudley D. AA00001."

"Bit eager, eh?"


"Number says you were the first recruit."

"Ah. Well, I was the first in that queue."

"Right. Another queue for you, lad. Sign with the number one on it."

Dudley found his way down a line with several such queues, he counted twenty in all and, naturally, his was the furthest away. There were already several men of various ages waiting there including Cecil Turner from the train. There were also two men in Army uniforms, except they were not dressed the same. Dudley would later learn that the one wearing a khaki beret with a pom-pom, badge and white feather, a Sergeant, was from the Royal Scottish Regiment and the other wearing a dark green beret with just a badge, a Corporal, was from The Rifles. Their trousers looked different and their multi-colored belts were also different. They would learn that this was known as Barrack Dress in the British Army.

"That's twenty, Corporal," the man with the white feather said. "You can take this lot to the Slaughter House."

"Right you lot," the Corporal said. "Follow me!"

It was not anything that would look sharp on a parade ground. The group just followed along in a line, each of them wondering what that Slaughter House business was about. They came to a large building.

"This is usually one of our Gyms," the Corporal said. "The Sarge called it the Slaughterhouse 'cause today here's where we begin to slaughter the civilian and make you sorry lot into something like a proper soldier. First off, the lot of you'll be poked and prodded by the medico types. It's quick and I'm told painless and we do it to make sure this training will produce a soldier and not a cripple or a corpse. If you fail the exam, you'll meet with an officer to discuss your options – and there are options short of going home to watch the War on the telly. Most of you'll pass and you can look forward to weeks of running about and long road marches with sixty or more pounds of kit on your backs by the end of which you'll probably wish ill of me and the Sarge. After the medicos, you see the barbers who'll divest you of your shaggy, civilian wool and then you'll get a duffle and hit the kit line for whatever those sods say you need to stuff into the duffle. Then, we head over to the barracks and then you'll experience fine dining Army style."

While the Slaughterhouse was not the blood filled abattoir that many envisioned when the Corporal first used that term, it did remind Dudley in a way of a factory. They were on something like a production line moving from one stage to the next. The first stage was the 'medicos' who Dudley realized were magical Healers. There were several of them and they each examined one recruit at a time. Dudley's just happened to be the one who had examined him at Mistress Agnes Hospital not long after his father's heart attack. That examination had taken some time but this one was over in minutes.

"That's it?" Dudley asked.

"It would've been longer if something came up," the Healer replied. "I did give you a rather thorough exam not long ago and nothing came up to suggest that there's anything new to be concerned about. Good luck and get a move on. You don't want the Corporal to think you're holding things up," he finished stamping a file from Dudley's envelope "Fit For Duty."

The next stage was a line of barber chairs and it seemed the barber spent more time putting the apron on his 'customer' and later brushing it off and removing it than actually cutting the hair. Then again, there was only one style here which was so short everyone looked almost bald. It was perhaps the only time in Dudley's life he regretted his blonde hair as he saw the short cut in the mirror. About the only way one could be sure he had not gone prematurely bald was if the light hit the head just right so one could see the shadow from what little fuzz was left.

At the next stop they faced a set of elves with what looked like tape measure and other measuring devices. A minute or two later and Dudley was handed a piece of paper with numbers on it and he moved to the next place where he was handed a large duffle bag. At each of the next several stops, something was dropped into the bag:

1 pair of trainers, running
1 pair black leather boots, parade
2 pair brown boots, all weather, field
6 pair socks, field
6 pair socks, white, athletic
8 underpants, boxer, khaki
8 undershirt, cotton, khaki
3 pair running shorts
6 tee shirts, athletic
2 sweat pants, grey
2 sweat shirts, grey
2 belts, web, black
1 Raincoat, Field
3 combat dress, temperate, trousers
3 combat dress, temperate, field jacket
2 field cap, camouflage, temperate
1 Web Gear Belt
2 canteen pouches
2 canteens
1 mess kit, field
2 pouches, ammunition, F1A11
Combat Web Harness
1 Field Pack
1 collapsible entrenching tool with pouch
2 beret, Training Regiment, yellow
1 Poncho
1 Field Jacket, cold weather
1 Field Tent, individual
1 Field Matress
1 Sleeping Bag, field
1 helmet liner
1 Combat Helmet, Kevlar
1 Helmet cover, temperate camouflage
1 Gas Mask pouch1 Gas Mask
1 Battle Armor, vest and goodness knows what else.

For a group of folks that supposed dressed all the same, they sure had a lot of stuff, Dudley thought as the last item fell into the duffle. He was surprised it all fit. He was even more surprised he could lift it at all considering how heavy it seemed and how much had been dropped into it. Dudley would later learn that the duffle had magic. It could easily carry four times its size in stuff and was magically lighter than it should be. He soon found himself outside again and dressed "Army" style. In addition to what was dropped into their duffels, each of them changed from their civilian clothes into the brown, green and black camouflaged combat dress with brown boots, Army issue socks and underwear and yellow beret which they would soon would learn ensured no one would think they were not a recruit in training.

As soon as the last of their initial group had arrived, it seemed that the Corporal underwent a personality change. Before, while somewhat stern, he had been calm. Now he was either furious or something as everything he said was yelled loudly and usually laced with copious amounts of unnecessary profanity, except it emphasized the point that whatever it was the Corporal wanted them to do, they were already late in doing it, doing it wrong, or couldn't do it at all. The yelling began when he asked them to line up with their duffels on their backs and their civilian luggage in their left hand which, apparently, no one could do to his satisfaction unless that person had the Corporal in his face yelling. Next, he expected them to walk, but of course his idea of walking and theirs was very different which lead to another colorful diatribe where he questioned the legitimacy of their birth, the virtue of their mothers, and whether they were even capable of the basic act of procreation. After a few hundred yards of learning to walk in step, still nowhere near to the Corporal's satisfaction, they found themselves at their barracks.

The room was long and open with ten bunks on either side and a restroom and shower facility at the far end. Each of the twenty men was assigned one of the twenty bunks and corresponding locker on one side of the room. The bunks had mattresses but were unmade although bedding was folded at the foot of the bunk. As they had time, the Corporal demonstrated how to make the bunk "properly." Naturally, he used one of the bunks on the other side of the barrack room which he promptly stripped bare upon completion of the demonstration. He then ordered the lot of them to make up their bunks and then began to stencil their "Last Name, First Initial and Service Number" on the labels on most of the kit they had just received. They were all given a pen with indelible ink for the task. They were also shown how to fold, hang or otherwise store their kit in the lockers beside their bunks and then told to set to it until they were called to their squad line – a line painted on the floor in front of their bunks – for "inspection" and then dinner.

For Dudley, this was not much different at this point than Smeltings. Smeltings was a boarding school in the Midlands and prided itself on instilling discipline and a firm work ethic in its charges. Dudley was now convinced that a lot of the "stuff" he had to put up with there was courtesy of the British Army. Watching the Corporal demonstrate how to make up a bunk and how the laundry was to be folded was not a brief lesson leading to confusion for that was the way his room had to be made up at Smeltings – although after his First Year it only had to be that way on Friday's which was when the Headmaster made his tours – and handed out demerits. They also had to label their things at Smeltings so that too was not much of a change. He soon found himself as one of the two resident experts on folding and making up a bunk, the other being Cecil Turner who had to do something similar when he trained as a Police Officer.

Others, of course, would come away from their experience in what they learned was the Training Battalion with different perspectives on the nit-picking detail of the Training Cadre. While told the annoying rubbish, while silly, helped one pay attention to detail and later conceding that such things are important especially in the field, at least one of the members of Dudley's Side in their Platoon would later state that his lifelong aversion to folding laundry and making beds stemmed from his initial weeks in the Army. Most, however, would say their initial weeks in the Army were more an education into "creative" cursing. One of Dudley's platoon mates would later recall that he had seriously considered writing the definitive work on the history, Etymology and the myriad of possible meanings and uses of the word "Fuck" in the English language beyond its most common association with sexual intercourse ending with why the sentence "The fucker fucking fucked that fucked-up fuck." was crude yet grammatically correct and descriptive English and moreover how its meaning could be totally non-sexual.

Then again, almost anyone who has been through some form of intensive basic training would say that those sorts of reflections occur well after the fact as when it is actually happening one has little time to think much less reflect on anything.

MONDAY, AUGUST 26th, 1996 – Black House, Charenwell.

There were times when Harry hated being the Duke, or at least did not like it all that much, and the morning after breakfast and after his wives left for their days had been one of those times. For three hours he had been in the conference room just down the corridor from his new office with a "Select Committee" from the Defense Ministry and MAG and they spent that three hours on uniforms. The Army's Combat Dress, which was being issued to the new recruits that morning, was so far the only uniform for the soon to be soldiers and while it was true that much of their time they would need no other, the MAG types stressed it was not the sort of thing that looked sharp walking the streets of Pottersport. For now the Air Force only had its Flight Suits, which were really just fancy coveralls, and the Service Dress with an overseas cap which was virtually identical to the same uniform worn by the RAF.

Harry was surprised at all of the "other" uniforms that needed discussion. The Air Force "needed" a uniform inbetween Flight Suits and Service Dress and a badge for their brimmed hats. The Army "needed" its own Service Dress even if it would be practically identical to the British equivalent and what they called Barracks Dress which was somewhere in between the Service Dress and the camouflage Combat Dress and their own hat badges. Did Charenwell want its own rank devices or would the British devices do? Aside from a cap badge, did they want something that would distinguish a Charenwell Soldier from any other Commonwealth Soldier in a similar uniform. What about Full Dress? While the RAF had a uniform, uniform, many of the British Army Regiments had their own unique Full Dress for Officers and Ranks alike or at least unique variations. And the Army types were all on about berets. This was all very important to the Committee as they would soon need to order these new uniforms which even with magic took a little time so that the soldiers and airmen could look sharp when the need arose. Then there were the Medals, after all you can't have a military without medals, can you? And a band or bands, and pipes and…

Harry was surprised to learn that an Army could not function without a band, or at least that was what the men in those uniforms seemed to believe as a matter of necessity.

It all seemed rather silly to Harry but it was a huge deal to those who were wearing uniforms or who had worn them in one capacity or another in the past. Naturally, as Duke and Commander-in-Chief Harry had the final say on all of this and when his attention began to wane the Defense Minister had to point out that he wore the Dress Uniform of the Charenwell Lancers, a horse cavalry unit formed in early 1915 for a war that would all but spell the end for horse cavalry and which had left its lances and horses behind when it was rolled into the 1st Charenwell Regiment of Foot that was later slaughtered in the trenches and no-man's-land of the Somme in 1916. It had been custom for the Duke (and only the Duke) to wear that uniform since then to honor the losses.

Fortunately, the military meetings after lunch would be more interesting as they would deal with things that Harry believed were necessary for war.

After a nice lunch and some alone time with Cissy – for while an Army may need a band, Harry had his own necessisties – Harry was now in the large briefing room with most of the senior MAG officers as well as key members of his Defense Ministry, Foreign Ministry and fledgling Intelligence Service and the Lord Mayor. Also present were Fred and George Weasley and his Godfather, for who this would be part of either his interview process or first day on the job but that was another matter. Where Sirius had sat just a few days before, there was now a podium and behind it was a large screen. Major General Churchill began the meeting.

"Your Highness," he began. Harry still had problems with that title but trying to get the military to call him anything other than that or Sir outside of a purely social gathering had already proven impossible. "It has been said that it is the historian who studies tactics. The generals study logistics. By that I mean it is the job of the commander in the field to make sure the right lads are in the right place at the right time and with enough of the right stuff to do their job and knock the enemy on the head. Tactics is the realm of the leadership at the point of contact whether that's the NCOs, junior officers or occasional senior officer. Our job is also to ensure that the lot of them know their profession such that they don't need a Colonel or higher to tell them how to do their jobs.

"As you are aware, today we begin training our first true batch of recruits with the hope that one day soon they will be the privates, NCOs and more junior officers who will be at the business end of things when the time comes and that they will know what to do and how to do it. Today some 800 men and women – mostly men – are beginning their training in the Army. These 800 are divided into twenty, forty-man platoons. Two of those platoons are ladies who will serve in supporting roles, three are the advanced group from Ireland and the rest are from our initial recruiting here in Charenwell with a small number of recent evacuees with prior skills. As Air Vice Marshall Graham can attest, we've increased the number of young ladies starting flight training from twenty to forty and we have also begun training Air Force ground personnel with their initial recruit class of 300.

"Now I assume you are asking yourself what kind of Army you will get, how large will it be, what can it do, correct Sir? I assume you have similar questions regarding the Air Force?"

Harry nodded.

"And the answer I can give you today is it is too early to say. How large is a factor of recruiting. As of this morning, we have 5,312 men and 514 women on the lists for the Army who currently reside in Charenwell, 334 men and 42 women on the lists from Ireland for their armed forces and 1,312 women and 556 men on the lists for the Air Force. For the Army, we think the numbers will support at least three infantry battalions, maybe as many of five and we will discuss why there's such a difference."

"For the Air Force," Air Vice Marshall Graham said, "our force limiting factor right now and for the foreseeable future is aircraft. Excluding the Tiger Moths, we currently have 48 aircraft and when all is said and done we'll have 156, unless you include the three Hudsons and two Mosquitoes in the mix or the ten Bombardiers which are currently in civilian service. As it stands right now and if we use Elves on the ground in numbers, our current recruiting will man us up, not that we'll turn away others. However, a recent mission request and our discussions with our Army counterparts suggest a slight expansion might be advisable, and we'll get to that."

"As for the Army," Major General Churchill continued, "our force structure is a question of both the numbers we can recruit and logistics. Our ability to fight is and will be defined by the numbers we can field whose primary job is shooting the bad guys. In a perfect world, everyone would be a shooter. Unfortunately, it does not work that way. Shooters need food, ammunition, health care, transport and more to do their job and even more if they have to do it on foreign shores and as an aggressor. Our current numbers would support one mechanized brigade of three combat battalions. Less than half of that number would be in the primary combat branches such as Infantry. The rest would be in supporting roles that keep the infantry in the field and able to fight. We are hoping to increase the proportion of shooters to supporters and we are hoping to do that with magical solutions to our logistics questions."

"Which is where lunatics like us come in," one of the Weasley twins said.

"To Army-ize magic…," the other replied.

"to magic-ize and Air Force…"

"to prank our supposed betters…"

"for our amusement…"

"and for your aims…"

"Weasley Enterprises!"

"We think without a box."

"Whatever that means."

"Don't you mean think outside of the box?" one of the seated Colonels asked.


"If you're outside of a box…"

"Aren't you without the box?"

After some chuckles Harry simply shook his head. "I do hope you two aren't going to talk like that throughout this meeting. It'll give me a headache."

"Fear not, your supreme worshipfulness!"

"We would not so endanger the fate of the glorious cause…"

"By headache-ing the leader."

"Right then," one of them continued acting somewhat serious assuming such a thing were possible. "First off, we've managed what we call a limited test on the last project – the refilling ammo magazines."

"Although," the other added, "in addition to the magazines for the F1A1, we also included versions of an ammo can for 7.62mm linked ammunition for the M240 machine gun and an ammo box we've made for 81mm mortar rounds."

"Our new Army friends successfully emptied two 30 round magazines with the refilling magic. The source ammunition was located in Port of Darby and the shooters were at the Army base here and on a fishing vessel about a hundred miles west of here. Each magazine fired 500 rounds before running out entirely. We were able to perform similar tests on the machine gun ammo and the 81mm can, but found that the spell only works if the 'system' is closed. That means if you open the can you can only take out 100 rounds or what you can see. To refill, the can must be closed with at least some rounds left. For the mortar can, this means you have to close it with at least one round remaining for it to refill. For the machine gun ammo, we're now feeding the belt through a slot in the side of the can. Once you thread the belt through the slot, you close the can and it will continue feeding up to 2500 rounds through to the gun."

"So it works then?" Harry asked.

The speaker nodded. "Out to a range of 150 miles without regard to the topography in between – like mountains and such – or the curvature of the Earth which I will admit were concerns until this test. Whether it will work up north is another question."

"One we hope to answer in the next week or so," the other said. "Our new Army friends are taking a machine gun ammo can and a few magazines up north to the Shetlands for a field test."

"Why there?" Harry asked.

"It's as far north in the British Isles as you can go. If it works there from a storeroom here, it'll work anywhere our lads need to fight."

"And if it doesn't?"

"We keep moving south until it does which will give us a range. This will be important if we want to equip aircraft with this stuff and there is a maximum range for the transference because the airplane's increased ammo would only be within that range from the source."

"We are hopeful this will work throughout the proposed theater of operations," the Major General said. "It would certainly reduce our supply and resupply problems. Does it work for other things like food supplies?"

"No unfortunately, nor for fuel. We've tried."

"We're comfortable with the magical fuel extensions in the planes," Air Vice Marshall Graham said.

The twin nodded. "However, there is a possible solution for moving supplies and maybe people. George here found a rather comprehensive text on magical portals and we have been able to make a portable one for lack of a better word."

"In a way," George continued, "it's similar in concept to the link between the supply boxes and an ammo magazine. We have a fixed door at a supply place here and a somewhat portable door frame linked to that door with the lads in the field. Once activated, you can walk back and forth between the two."

"Bloody hell," someone said, "it would be almost like fighting right next to your supply depo without the risk that the bad guys could hit it!"

"Well, if something can go through it one way, it can also go through the other," Fred said. "If the portal is open and an enemy gets a shot at it, the shot can go through and hit what's on this side. That's a problem we're working on but aside from closing the portal we don't see a solution."


"The there's a portability question as well," George added. "We currently use a door frame and we need something like that for the necessary runic magic. The problem is if you take it apart, it won't work again. Likewise if you damage it, it won't work and will need to be replaced and you can't take along a spare. There can only be one of these things at any one time so if yours is broken, a new one would need to be made at the supply depo and then shipped to the field. We might be able to strengthen the frame but that would make it less portable we think. There's no way around the spare issues. The Arithmancy won't support it."

"Arithmancy?" an officer asked.

"Kind of like the magical equivalent of physics," another said. "It's mathematical and describes how magic can work. Runes and wands are like the engineering that takes the theory and makes it a practical reality."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"So you can only make one of them?" Harry asked trying to get back on topic.

"Ah! What we meant is one complete pair. You can have many such pairs, but you can't have more than one portable unit per each fixed portal way back here. And we are working on ways to make the portable unit more portable and rugged to reduce the possibility of a collapse."

"Still," the Major General said, "we could move troops through that as well?"

"I suppose," Fred said. "You would need to get it where you need it. But if there're bad guys around, they could pick you off rather easily as you can only move one person through it at a time and if they got hold of it they could come here."

"What about the wards?" Harry asked.

"We don't know if it bypasses the wards or not. If it does…"

"Then these things can't fall into enemy hands."

"Actually, we could just shut it down on this end," George said. "But if we do that, it's a permanent thing. While they can't use it, neither could we."

"Still," the General thought aloud, "assuming we can use these in a relatively safe area and perhaps have a use protocol that limits when it can be used, it would solve a large number of logistical issues once we have boots on the ground over there. That, in turn, would reduce the size of our logistics tail in terms of manpower meaning far more of the lads now in training could be shooters rather than the lads who keep the shooters supplied. We could be talking five combat battalions and change with the numbers already signed up rather than three. But that still doesn't help us move when we're up there. We'd still either be able to advance at little more than a marching pace or need motor transport which presents additional supply challenges."

"Uh, General?" George began. "While we can't truly help you there, we do have a couple of other goodies as well."

"Our thoughts," Fred said, "was that our portable portal would mainly be for resupply and such, not to get troops to where the fighting is or will be. Now the portal was an offshoot of our research that gave us the refilling ammo boxes. They are somewhat related to each other magically speaking. But the portal idea was our more recent…"

"And more effective and efficient…"

"…go at the refilling ammo boxes."

"Our first try was something that…"

"…while totally useless for the ammo boxes…"

"…is quite useful for moving troops over distances…"

"…provided one of our guys is already where the others need to be."

"Could you two please not do that," the General asked. "I feel like I'm watching a tennis match and I never really liked that game."

The twins looked at each other, not knowing what a tennis match was, but understanding his meaning.

"Sorry, Sir."

"Habit … oops, sorry again."

"Right then," George said. "While it didn't work out so well for the ammo boxes, we got this little number," he finished holding up what Harry knew was a "Potter Stinks" button from two years ago. "Course, this is just the prototype and we'll use something a little more – er – army like in the field model. What we have here are two badges. One, Fred here has it, we'll call a transmitter. The other we'll call a transponder, although we'll admit those names might not be accurate. These two are more accurately described as a bifurcated, automated, blind apparition device. The device actually is a two way device, but for explanation purposes think of it as one way. The transmitter is worn or carried by a soldier. It transmits its location to any and all transponders keyed to its magical signature. Another soldier with the transponder merely touches some kind of activation key or states an activation word and he will automatically apparate to the location of the soldier with the transmitter."

"Now," Fred continued, "as George said it's a two-way device. Any soldier with one can act as an anchor for a blind jump and any soldier on that network can go to him although we're still working on the exact details of how to do it."

"So," George continued, "you send out scouts with their transmitters to where you want them to go and when they get there they get word to their mates and moments later one soldier is joined by many ready to do what they need to do. Effective range is about two hundred miles but, unlike the portal and our ammo boxes, it won't pass through wards."

"The problem is it also has a weight limit so while you can move a soldier with his full kit, and maybe someone else like an injured buddy, you can't move something really heavy."

"Five hundred pounds is the most we've been able to move with these. It's better than nothing, but not ideal for moving a lot of stuff forward quickly…"

"And it won't help with heavy gear such as …"

"A cannon?" the General offered.

"Yep. Won't help you there."

"But this puppy will," Fred said. He held up a metal stick. "The theory is similar, but it's not as flexible. It's a bifurcated portkey. The stick here is just the transmitter like thing that tells a transponder where to go if activated. You affix the transponder to what you want to move and activate it and it goes to the location. But it will go to a position relative to the transmitter that is determined beforehand. You can use this with soldiers – say you want them to arrive in some kind of formation – and they will arrive that way relative to the transponder, or you can use it for equipment and it will arrive in a prearranged pattern of up to 200 yards around the transmitter. It's not as flexible in some ways as the transmitter cannot act as a transponder or vice versa. It has the same range as the apparition device and it too cannot pass through wards. But it lacks the weight restrictions."

"So we can move cannons with it? How many?"

"Yes, and we don't know. How many can you fit into a two hundred yard radius?"

"And people?"

"They could be keyed in as well and would arrive where you want them to in relation to the transponder."

"What about non-magicals?"

"It doesn't require a wand to activate or use," George said. "You need a wand to make one and to key in the arrangement of things and people and stuff, but the later can be done in the field with little effort or special skills and all a soldier needs to do to us it is to wear a transponder to get sent along. Our apparition thing also does not require the user to be magical at all and since they are permanently keyed to their network, they don't require any wands to set up the move."

"And the good news is: no splinching," Fred said.

"So far as we know," George added. "We had our ladies test these out including the younger ones who can't apparate and so far not a problem."

"Still, the troops who have those transmitter things would need a way to get out ahead of the advance if we wish to move forward at more than a walking pace," the General observed.

"We were going to recommend helicopters," the Air Vice Marshall commented. "We should be able to scrounge up at least a couple of squadrons of Lynx if we can order them now given as Her Majesty's government considers this a priority. We'd need to train pilots, of course, and ground crew and hope the magical expansion of the fuel tanks works on them as well given that we can't fly them to England from here but it would give us a means to move forward quickly if the bulk of the troops are coming in by these magical means."

"Lynx?" Harry asked.

"It's a rather flexible utility helicopter," the Air Vice Marshall replied. "It's currently in production which means we can either buy them direct or … well we might be able to get some older ones from the RAF and they would get newer ones. The latter method might be less costly. The Lynx is used in a variety of roles including as scout / reconnaissance for ground forces at or just beyond the Forward Edge of the Battle Area – that's what used to be called the front lines, troop carriers for smaller units, medical evacuation – although I understand that role will be done by magical means – and it can be configured as a gunship with 20mm cannons and rocket or missile launchers."

"What's the difference between rockets and missiles?"

"Missiles are guided weapons, rockets are not."

Harry nodded. "We'll take that under advisement. I'd like to see cost and payment information before any decision."

"Of course, sir."

"Anything else?"

"Well," the General replied, "we should be able to finalize a force structure given the transport information we've received today, but I'd like some of my people to see some field tests of these portal things, and the transmitter / transponder things as well. In particular, I'd like to see if it can move an L118 with crew and munitions."

"A what?"

"It's a 105mm howitzer. We call it a Light Gun as it is for a cannon. It can be towed by a fairly light vehicle, carried by a helicopter – although a Lynx might be too small unless you lads can magically make the gun a lot lighter for transport – and dropped from transport aircraft – although not from a Dakota. It would be ideal for a light unit which is how it's employed by Her Majesty's Armed Forces. If you are to have artillery, that's the gun."

"And we should have these?"

"Ideally," the General replied. "It brings a lot of firepower into the equation on top of whatever the infantry carries and what can be provided by close air support and it can reach out and touch the bad guys and they can't touch back. It has a range of over ten miles and each gun can fire up to eight rounds a minute with a well trained crew and hit the target."

Harry nodded. "We should look into it then. Anything else?"

"Well, George said, "the Air Force gent said reconnaissance and one of the things we're looking in to is how to see bad guys who don't want to be seen. We're making progress on magical detectors, but we're not ready to say we have a practical thing. But…"

A picture appeared on the screen. Harry could not tell what it was except it looked like it was a picture taken from in the air.

"This is a satellite photo of a valley up north. Do you recognize it?"

Harry could now see it for what it was. He could see mountains, a lake and some streams as well as a forest but it did not look familiar. He shook his head.

"And now?" Fred said. The picture changed. The colors were very different. Greens were now shades of red, for one thing. But now there were things that were not in the first picture. He could see what looked like a railroad track leading to a station, a road from that station that forked just beyond the lake with one fork leading to a small town that was not there before and another to a large castle.

"Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Indeed," Fred replied.

"But … but why the difference?"

"Ah! 'Cause the Muggles are very creative! The satellite is a commercial one that anyone can use, although it's mostly used by their scientists for a variety of reasons. The first picture was taken by a regular camera that shows what you would see with your own eyes. It used regular, non-magical film or … well not film but what they call 'imaging' so this is what a Muggle would see. The second photo used a different camera on the satellite that sees what they call ultraviolet.

"It turns out that normal light is a very small part of a much larger whole they call electromagnetic radiation. Most of that whole we can't see with our eyes, like this ultra-violet stuff. But they can make devices that do see it. As you know, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade Valley are under powerful wards to hide it from the Muggles and the first photo shows just an empty valley, which is what Muggles are expected to see. But it seems our magical types are unaware that Muggles can see around regular light with the right stuff so they never thought to hide it from invisible energies. Hence, while we can't see something that is hidden by a charm or ward with our eyes, it seems things like this ultra-violet thing or another called infra-red – which detects heat, not light – can see through the magic."

"Okay," Harry drawled, "I'm a little afraid to ask but how did you guys figure this out?"

"We have failed, George."

"Indeed we have, Fred."

"It should have been as obvious as our red hair to all that we are bloody geniuses."

"Not that Mum would believe it, seeing as we only got three OWLs apiece."

"But she was never one for such annoying details as the courses where you or I had the highest scores in our year, George."

"All three of our older brothers combined could not claim that honor."

"She's just on about only getting three."

"Not wondering why anyone would want nine or more merely average marks when they can set records in just three."

"Lacks imagination that one."

"Anyway," George said, "while we are brilliant…"

"And good looking…"

"And irresistible to our lovely ladies…"

"It was actually our lovely ladies who discovered this. A few of them were at the base looking over photos like these 'cause there're supposed to be useful for the Air Force types when one of them saw this photo here and knew what it was," Fred said. "When she learned it was taken with an ultraviolet camera, she was sufficiently curious to see what a normal camera would see and here we are."

"Coupled with a viable magical detector system," George said, "and placed in an aircraft, we can locate – well – whatever we need to locate of a magical nature in Britain."

"We're getting close on a sensor that will work from a good distance and hope to have a working system in a month or so and maybe even sooner than that."

"Which brings us to something else," Air Vice Marshall Graham said. "We are recommending you take a squadron of Dakotas out of transportation service and have them reconfigured as reconnaissance aircraft. We need a large, long range plane to seek out and localize such things, not to mention the magical detection grid and it would be best to have a full squadron dedicated to the work."

"And what of transport needs? I thought even with thirty-six Dakotas we might be a little short…"

"Indeed and your next mission is such that they are also wholly inadequate to the task. We have another aircraft in mind…"

A/N: Service Numbers – made up. AA stands for Charenwell, Pottersport Recruiting Office. AD for Charenwell, Jamestown Recruiting Office. BF for Ireland, Dublin office. (AA is Charenwell, Pottersport. AB is Charenwell, Port of Darby. AC is Charenwell, Magoran Bay and North Farm and AD is Jamestown. BA is Ulster including County Donegal but excluding Belfast. BB is Belfast. BC is Connaught. BD is Munster. BE is Leinster excluding Dublin and BF is Dublin. Those are the old regions in Ireland, not the newer counties. The number is based upon when you signed up.)


If you didn't read the Intro, you missed that. This is so you can keep up with who's with who and how.


Names in Italics = OC

Gr – Gryffindor, Hu – Hufflepuff, Ra – Ravenclaw, Sl – Slytherin.

SG – St. George's School, PE – Prince Edward School, SA – St. Andrew's, SP – St. Patrick's, SD – St. David's.(Number indicates last year completed. No number means they finished all seven years.)

P = pregnant.

Harry James Potter, age 16.* HOUSE POTTER
1. Hermione Jane (Granger) Potter, age 16 (Gr-5); CONSORT.*P - boy/girl (twins).
2. Minerva Grace (McGonagall) Potter-Black, age 68 (Gr).P - girl.
3. Astoria Lynn (Greengrass) Potter-Black, age 14 (Sl-3).*
4. Ginevra Molly (Weasley) Potter-Black, age 15 (Gr-4).*P - girl.
5. Stacey Marie (Campbell) Potter-Black, age 17 (SA-5).*P - boy.
6. Laura Teresa (Oliver) Potter-Black, age 21 (PE-5).*
7. Rhonda Kaye (Lester) Potter-Black, age 17 (SD-5).*
8. Katie Alice (Bell) Potter-Black, age 17 (Gr-6).*P
9. Padma (Patil) Potter-Black, age 16 (Ra-5).*P
10. Sally-Anne (Perks) Potter-Black, age 16 (SG-5).*
11. Erin Faye (Sullivan) Potter-Black, age 16 (SP-5).*
12. Eleanor May (Bromstone) Potter-Black, age 13 (Hu-2).

1. Luna Celeste (Lovegood) Black, age 15 (Ra-4); CONSORT.*P - boy/girl (twins).
2. Dora (Tonks) Black-Potter, age 22 (Hu).*P – girl.
3. Mallory Michelle (Grant) Black-Potter, age 39 (Hu).P - boy.
4. Daphne Renee (Greengrass) Black-Potter, age 16 (Sl-5).*P – boy.
5. Tabatha Simone (Collins) Black-Potter, age 16 (SA-5).*
6. Fiona Michelle (Simpson) Black-Potter, age 23 (SD).*
7. Karen Maria (Green) Black-Potter, age 18 (PE-5).*
P – boy.
8. Constance Maria (Plumber) Black-Potter, age 16 (SG-5).*P
9. Parvati (Patil) Black-Potter, age 16 (Gr-5).*P
10. Kathryn Marie (O'Fallon) Black-Potter, age 16 (SP-5).*
11. Laura Elaine (Madley) Black-Potter, age 13 (Ra-2).
12. Cathy Alicia (Abrams) Black-Potter, age 12 (Hu-1).

1. Narcissa (Cissy) Black, age 33 (Sl-5); Coven Bonded.P
2. Gabrielle Collette Delacour, age 9; Veela Bond.

Bill Weasley, age 25.
1. Fleur Patrice (Delacour) Weasley, age 19; CONSORT.P – girl.
2. Mary Ellen (Howard) Weasley, age 18 (Hu-5).*P - boy.
3. Samantha Christine (Johnson) Weasley, age 17 (SG-5).*P - boy, girl (twins).
4. Peggy Louise (Nolan) Weasley, age 17 (9/6/78) (Hu-6).*P
5. Elizabeth Olive (Nolan) Weasley, age 14 (Gr-3).
6. Lana Catherine (Powell) Weasley, age 22 (SA).*
P – girl.
7. Carla (Masterson) Weasley, age 20 (PE-5).*P - boy.8.
Donna Lynn (Roselle) Weasley, age 19 (SG-5)*.
P - girl.
9. Christine Celine (Paulson) Weasley, age 17 (PE-5).*P - boy.
10. Mandy (Brocklehurst) Weasley, age 16 (Ra-5).*P
11. Wendy Seline (Hendricks) Weasley, age 15 (Gr-4).P
12. Agnes Gabrielle (Martin) Weasley, age 15 (Hu-4).
13. Morgan Laura (Carlson) Weasley, age 14 (Hu-3).
14. Francine Sally (Broadmoor) Weasley, age 14 (Ra-3).
15. Wanda Helen (Parker) Weasley, age 13 (Gr-2).
16. Bonnie Faith (Carter) Weasley, age 13 (Hu-2).

Neville Algicyrus Longbottom, age 16.*
1. Susan Marie (Bones) Longbottom, age 16 (Hu-5); CONSORT.*P – boy, girl (twins).
2. Amber Selma (Harker) Longbottom, age 33 (Sl-5).*P - boy, girl (twins).
3. Penelope Ann (Clearwater) Longbottom, age 20 (Ra).*P – boy.
4. Annette Lucille (Harper) Longbottom, age 24 (SD).*P - boy.
5. Deborah Leigh (McLean) Longbottom, age 20 (SA).*P - girl.
6. Miriam Olivia (Riley) Longbottom, age 18 (SG-5)*.P – girl.
7. Amanda (Kennedy) Longbottom, age 16 (SP-5).*P
8. Hannah Suzanne (Abbott) Longbottom, age 16 (Hu-5).*P - girl.
9. Patricia Faye (Abbott) Longbottom, age 14 (Hu-3).
10. Megan Allison (Jones) Longbottom, age 16 (Hu-5).*P
11. Leanne Lucille (Tinker) Longbottom, age 17 (Gr-6).*P
12. Lavender Sue (Brown) Longbottom, age 16 (Gr-5).*P
13. Natalie Mae (McDonald) Longbottom, age 14 (Gr-3).
14. Cho (Chang) Longbottom, age 17 (Ra-6).*P
15. Su (Li) Longbottom, age 16 (Ra-5).*
16. Morag Coleen (McDougal) Longbottom, age 16 (Ra-5).*P
17. Tracy (Davis) Longbottom, age 16 (Sl-5).*
18. Teresa Chastain (Murdoch) Longbottom, age 14 (Sl-3).
19. Natasha Brianna (Adair) Longbottom, age 13 (Sl-2).

Fred Weasley, age 18.
1. Alicia May (Spinet) Weasley, age 18 (Gr); CONSORT.*P – boy.
2. Verity Nicole (Smith) Weasley, age 21 (SG-5).*P – boy.
3. Danielle Louise (Carter) Weasley, age 20 (SG-5).*P - girl.
4. Victoria (Vicki) (Peters) Weasley, age 17 (Ra-6).*P - boy.
5. Rachel Francine (Peters) Weasley, age 15 (Ra-4).*P
6. Coleen (Harrington) Weasley, age 23 (SP).*P - girl, girl (twins).
7. Elisha Susan (Stout) Weasley, age 21 (SD)*.P
8. Helen May (Ivey) Weasley, age 20 (SG-5).*P - boy.
9. Caroline (Folsom) Weasley, age 18 (SD-5).*P
10. Annette Maria (Barnes) Weasley, age 15 (Gr-4).P
11. Simone (Fanning) Weasley, age 15, (Hu-4).
12. Jessica (Jessie) (Bates) Weasley, age 14 (Gr-3).
13. Jennifer Lynn (Faulken) Weasley, age 14 (Hu-3).
14. Patsy (Tennyson) Weasley, age 14 (Ra-3).
15. Mary Simone (Tennyson) Weasley, age 14 (Ra-3).
16. Megan Anne (Albright) Weasley, age 13 (Hu-2).

George Weasley, age 18.
1. Angelina Olivia (Johnson) Weasley, age 18 (Gr); CONSORT.*P – boy.
2. Shelly Ann (Parker) Weasley, age 22 (SG).*P - girl.
3. Ellen Suzanne (North) Weasley, age 20 (SG).*P – girl.
4. Anna Melissa (Jenkins) Weasley, age 17 (Hu-6).*P - girl.
5. Roberta Elaine (Larson) Weasley, age 25 (PE).*P
6. Georgina Emma (Parker) Weasley, age 22 (SG).*P – boy.
7. Eileen (O'Malley) Weasley, age 21 (SP-5)*.P - boy.
8. Isabel (Tate) Weasley, age 19 (SA).*P - boy, girl (twins).
9. Tammy (Grey) Weasley, age 15 (Hu-4).P
10. Pamela Ray (Adams) Weasley, age 15 (Ra-4).P
11. Selene Adams, age 13 (Ra-2).
12. Betsy (Watson) Weasley, age 14 (Gr-3).
13. Elaine Lucinda (Manning) Weasley, age 14 (Hu-3).
14. Michelle Eliza (Graham) Weasley, age 13 (Gr-2).
15. Alice Paulette (McGregor) Weasley, age 13 (Hu-2).
16. Morgan Laura (Carpenter) Weasley, age 13 (Ra-2).

Lord Mayor Remus John Lupin, age 36.
1. Stephanie Mia (Rogers) Lupin, age 24 (SG); CONSORT.*P - boy.
2. Sarah Michelle (Hanson) Lupin, age 21 (SG).*P
3. Amelia Renee (Carpenter) Lupin, age 21 (SG).*P – boy.
4. Tara Frances (Marks) Lupin, age 20 (SG-5).*P - girl.
5. Christy (Matthews) Lupin, age 19 (SG).*P
6. Ellie Beth (Mitchell) Lupin, age 18 (PE-5).*P
7. Olivia Patricia (Kennedy) Lupin, age 22 (SP).*
8. Susan Anne (Parsons) Lupin, age 22 (Hu-5).
9. Donna Bethany (Simpson) Lupin, age 21 (SD-5).
10. Coleen Michelle (Greer) Lupin, age 20 (SP-5).
11. Alice Lynn (Ives) Lupin, age 20 (SA-5).
12. Greta Mae (Ives) Lupin, age 18 (SA-5).
13. Marie Catherine (Anderson) Lupin, age 19 (Hu-5).
14. Paulette Kristen (Lee) Lupin, age 19 (PE).
15. Maggie (Marshall) Lupin, age 17 (SD-5).

Frank Longbottom, age 41.
1. Alice Maria (Pierson) Longbottom, age 40 (Ra); CONSORT.P - boy.
2. Sandra Ellen (Butler) Longbottom, age 24 (SP).*P - boy.
3. Veronica Helen (Riordan) Longbottom, age 23 (SP).*P – girl.
4. Gretchen Lee (St. James) Longbottom, age 21 (PE).*P - girl.
5. Marie (White) Longbottom, age 19 (SD).*P - boy, girl (twins).
6. Carol Matilda (Timmerman) Longbottom, age 17 (SD-5)*.P
7. Simone Marie (Buchanan) Longbottom, age 27(SA-5).*
8. Agnes Lucile (Thompson) Longbottom, age 26 (Hu-5).*
9. Martha Helen (Graham) Longbottom, age 25 (SG-5).*
10. Francine Katherine (Moore) Longbottom, age 24 (PE-6).
11. Tamara Yvonne (Faust) Longbottom, age 22 (SD-5).
12. Kristen Leanne (Hall) Longbottom, age 21 (SG-5).
13. Charlene Megan (Hall) Longbottom, age 18 (SG-5).
14. Nora Elizabeth (Jackson) Longbottom, age 20 (SD-5).
15. Ellen Morgan (Oldman) Longbottom, age 19 (SG).

Charlie Weasley, age 23.
1. Tatiana Maria (Ivanova) Weasley, age 19.P
2. Christina Maria (Canterbury) Weasley, age 23 (SD-6).*
3. Lisa Faith (Stuart) Weasley, age 23 (SA).*
4. Janice Amelia (Brooks) Weasley, age 22 (SG-5).
5. Pamela Hope (Brooks) Weasley, age 18 (SG-5).
6. Tonya Louise (Childs) Weasley, age 21 (SD-5).
7. Lauren Noel (Ellis) Weasley, age 20 (PE-5).
8. Mary Louisa (Ellis) Weasley, age 17, (PE-5).
9. Renee Christine (Richardson) Weasley, age 18 (Ra-5).
10. Samantha Anne (Wood) Weasley, age 17 (PE-5).

Arthur Percival Weasley, age 46 (4/12/50).
1. Jennifer Susan (Albans) Weasley, age 27 (PE).*
2. Deborah Ophelia (Rawlings) Weasley; age 26 (Gr-5).*
3. Alice Margaret (Halverson) Weasley, age 24 (PE-5).*
4. Emma Lucile (Dawson) Weasley, age 23 (SD).
5. Anna Justine (Marsh) Weasley, age 21 (SG-5).
6. Constance Maria (Marsh) Weasley, age 18 (SG-5).
7. Amanda Suzanne (Tanner) Weasley, age 20 (SA-5).
8. Sharon Ellen (Davis) Weasley, age 19 (SP-5).
9. Zoe Margaret (Nance) Weasley, age 19 (SD-5).

* - Indicates in flight training RDCAF.