Harry's life one-shot: historical accuracy.

James and Lily were looking at the Grangers with no small amount of worry, the spell that they had cast to find their-Lily and James- son had worked perfectly, they had found him, he looked all grown up dressed in his uniform, for what they didn't know, perhaps some foreign auror corps, but they looked horrified at where they were, ah, they could ask them once they talked to Harry, if only the blasted spell would hurry up and put their bodies down.

"Ah, Corporal Darling, here for the final waltz I see."

James looked up as the man in command of his son spoke; he was a tall man with a thin moustache dressed in a fancier version of the uniform, he casually threw his cap onto the table and donned a tin helmet as he talked, the younger man to enter was a sickly looking man with short hair and an overlarge uniform.

"Yes, well, I got tired of folding the general's pyjamas you see." None of the men responded to the attempted humour, James was also starting to get worried, his son hadn't spoken a word and there was general feeling of unease in the air, the Grangers kept looking at the date on the calendar and grimacing for some reason.

"Jolly good, well this is marvellous isn't it, brilliant comradely news, together we'll be fighting for king and country and sucking sausages in Berlin by teatime."

James stared unashamed in bemusement at the young mans almost insanely cheerful attitude.

"Really though, this is brilliant, marvellous…I'm scared sir." It was still cheerful, but underneath, underneath that tone there was a something, something that didn't sit well with James.

The captain chuckled slightly as the other soldier chipped in saying he was scared as well.

"Well I mean I'm the last of the Trinity Tiddlywinks of the great summer of 1914, I don't want to die…really not overly keen on dying at all…sir."

The captain cocked his head and asked the newcomer in a conversational tone.

"How are you feeling darling?"

Darling gave a bitter smile.

"…not all that good Blackadder, rather hoped I'd get through the whole show, go back to work at the bakery, field for the westerners…marry Jenny." Towards the end the man was visibly holding back tears, James was getting really worried know, there was something wrong here.

"I um, made a not in my diary on the way up here, simply says, bugger."

Blackadder chuckled at the morbid humour, the call sounded outside for the men to go to attention, James watched his son stand in a deliberate manner and grab a rifle leaning against the chair he was sitting on then walk outside, he followed him along with other men and watched as they assembled into a line that stretched as far as the eye could see, neither of them noticed that the Grangers had covered their ears and remained inside the dugout.

"…listen, they've stopped the guns, is it, is it finally over, ha, we survived, the Great War 1914 to 1917!"

Blackadder smiled bitterly as he began to load the revolver in his hand.

"No, they stopped because even our commanders aren't insane enough to fire on their own men; they think it far more sporting to let the Germans do it, this really is it."

"Captain Blackadder, we don't have to!"

James noted in an almost catatonic state that his son's voice was hoarse. Blackadder and a few other soldiers peered at him with bemusement.

"Well Potter, if you can just magic us away then go ahead, save us all."

This was it thought James, his son was going to save them, he was going to he-

The signal whistle was blown and James watched as his son ran over the top to the tune of machine guns, the dropped wand lay on the bed of the trench along with a small black diary.

The guns stopped firing and the artillery restarted.

A tugging on his navel dragged James back to his home along with the visibly shaken Grangers and distraught Lily, he looked up at the expectant faces of the order and numbly handed Albus the diary.

The ancient wizard opened the last page; in the centre was a single paragraph.

"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori

Harry Potter, 1901-1917