Chapter 50: ExpansionSummary:
As Hermione is forced to deal with the aurors searching for her, the war expands across Scotland.
Chapter Text
The year's first meeting of the Celtic Liberators was a far more somber affair than the previous year's last. The circumstances were drastically different after all.
"It was hard for me to get here," Anita MacDuff admitted. "Umbridge's pets followed me half the day."
"Us too," Isobel MacDougal said, gesturing to her sister.
"Same here," Kenneth Dunn said.
"They'll be keeping a close watch on anyone with known ties," Daphne Greengrass sighed. "She's drawing heavily on Slytherin though. If she makes it a formal thing, we'll be able to join. Keep some of them off your backs."
"Dumbledore's groupies will be following you just as much," Morag MacDougal replied, shaking her head.
"They're too busy with Umbridge and their claims about You-Know-Who," Seamus said. "I don't think most of them even know about the war."
"Do you think he's back?" Harvey O'Brien asked.
"Nah," Seamus said. "There'd be kidnappings and deaths left and right if he was. Poms are just using his name to attack us." Daphne, Blaise, and the Carrow twins bit their tongues. No need to cause chaos within the group.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Scottish flag flew over their heads. Motors hummed as treads and wheels spun over asphalt. Even to Maol, who had organized them for a month, the sight was an unusual one. Two thousand soldiers was tough to miss.
Inverness was not a city to be taken lightly. Protected from the north by the Beauly Firth and from the west by the River Ness even a half-competent engineering corps could hold off the most competent of invaders. And despite Maol's best efforts, these were not the most competent of invaders. The unit had trained together for only a few months, just one of those under his leadership. Many were veterans, but green volunteers made up the rest. Fortunately, it was not a half-competent engineering corps they needed fight.
Three miles from the Firth Maol fired a flare gun high into the sky. Behind him each of his captains did the same, nearly drowning out the sun in a sea of red. By the time they reached the bridge smoke could be seen from Fort George. Gunshots rang through Inverness as the English and Scottish troops at Cameron Barracks fought.
How so many of the British troops had been converted to their cause was not Maol's concern. In fact, he pushed the question far from his mind. Their cause had many followers who would do anything to free Scotland, and in the back of his mind Maol knew his Queen would not be the one to stop them.
Not for the last time Maol pushed his concerns away. Focusing on his core, he drew his magic through his body in the age-old tradition of gaelic warriors before shouting out the latest set of commands.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Last Private Army in Europe was a joke. A ceremonial unit allowed to exist only by tradition and laziness. It was meant to be an excuse for people to dress up and relive the glory days of the Highlands. Some drinks, some food, and more bagpipes than even a true Scotsman would know what to do with. Then it would be over until the next year. For more than a century and a half the most serious they had been was ceremonial guards.
What they were not supposed to do was conduct a bombing run on a series of RAF Radar Stations in Scotland. What they were not supposed to do was march fifteen hundred soldiers down to Perth just when the 51st Highland Volunteers had marched to gather with the rest of their men in Aberdeen.
The 51st Highland Volunteers did not take losing their Headquarters well. The three companies gathered in Forfar quickly marched back to Perth. The Atholl Highlanders, expecting this, marched north to lay in wait.
The two armies met near Scone. The 51st's tanks pushed through the barbed wire as the men covered with mortar fire. The Atholl Highlanders responded in kind, shells falling from the heavens and landing with an almighty explosion that tore through flesh and metal alike. As the 51st neared they opened with machine-guns and the latest Carl Gustaf anti-tank RR. Smoke and fumes filled the air. Dirt hit the sky often as not. Blood and viscera were as common a sight on the ground as grass as the two forces fought. RPGs and anti-tank missiles streaked through the sky before exploding as they hit the thickly armored tanks. Under Captain Erskine, the 1st Cavalry Battalion of the Atholl Highlanders let loose with their rocket artillery. Coordinated by radio, the rockets fired from two miles away in Perth. They arched through the air before landing in an almighty fire that tore through the 51st's tanks.
Piercing shrieks ripped through the soldier's ears as British reinforcements came from the south, a trio of fighter jets strafing the Atholl Highlanders' formation to deadly affect. They targeted the anti-air missiles first, two destroyed in the first pass. During the second a volley of missiles shot from the third and fourth but managed only to singe a wing. The 51st were pressing in now, the Highlanders forced back between a fresh wave of tanks and the violent air support. When the planes flew overhead again the Highlanders nearly broke, even their commander flinching in fear before three missiles hit the lead jet. Two came from the anti-air guns, but one came from above. The British jets jerked up and away as the Atholl Highlanders' fighters came into view. Outnumbered the British fighters retreated. The Highlanders pursued them. They flew over Edinburgh, where volleys of missiles launched from the city at the British, and from the Dreghorn Barracks at the Highlanders. They finally broke off the pursuit as they neared English airspace, turning back to Scone.
Without their air superiority, the British advance stumbled. The Scottish surged forth, Captain Erskine ordering his tanks into a charge. They shattered the left flank of the 51st's tanks, breaking into their defensive lines and opening fire on the artillery. The center and right turned to help defend, but were soon caught in their own battle with a new wave of Infantry Combat Vehicles and anti-tank weaponry.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hermione Gwendolyn Slytherin Black was utterly oblivious to the success her forces were having without her. For the past six days she'd been on the run. The death of Dawlish had attracted the fury of the Auror department. Every spell, trick, and avenue they could use to find her, they did. She'd gotten barely two hour's rest before the apartment she'd 'borrowed' from an absentee landlord had been raided. It took six apparations to evade them, though at least she got a full night's sleep that time. By the end of the next day she'd been found again, forced to shrink and cram away her paperwork without a thought to organization. That alone angered her enough to let loose a stream of curses when they caught up to her on the fourth apparation. Soon she was cursing her impulsive revenge as she nursed a long cut on her arm, quickly bandaged between apparations six and seven.
It had been nearly a week since Hermione truly had time to think. She was exhausted, frustrated, and increasingly injured. She had no doubt she could defeat the aurors being sent after her. The problem was they did not arrive one at a time, and each exacted their own payment whenever she turned to fight.
"Slytherin!" Hermione snarled and winced at the voice. Moody, of all the aurors, it had to be Moody this time. He would never hesitate to kill her, and was one of the few who might match her skill, if not her power. " Diff- " Hermione turned sharply, hoping her next hosts could sort out the flagrant violation of international law she was about to commit.
" -do! " The cutting curse flew towards her, nicking the inside of her elbow as Hermione turned through the fourth dimension.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"This is an outrage!" John Redwood roared. "This budget undoes more than a decade and a half of deficit reduction! For sixteen years we have governed this country with proper fiscal responsibility, yet with a single proposal the man who claims to speak for the Conservative Party seeks to negate out hard-won victory over excess spending!"
"Are you proposing we do not fight back?" one of Major's allies bellowed.
"We have no need to!" Donald Dewar yelled. "If the Tory government had been willing to negotiate on the issue of devolution this would never have happened!"
"Appeaser!" one of the Tory back-benchers shouted. As the yelling escalated the Speaker banged his gavel several times.
"The Speaker recognizes the Honorable Minister Down," Betty Boothroyd said.
"Thank you Madame Speaker," Patty Down said, facing the Commons. "While the hypocrisy of an administration dedicated to deficit reduction cannot be overstated, it is hardly the most important nor most objectionable part of this bill. In addition to the funds set aside for mobilising the Reserves, more than eight billion pounds has been set aside for the Trident Missile Program! The Cold War is over! Even the most obstinate of military experts agree there is no need for these weapons, not one of which has been used in the last half-century! How can we, the people's representatives, vote to support such an extravagance?"
Chapter 51: Aurors and MatesSummary:
Hermione is forced to seek aid as she runs from the aurors. Meanwhile, Bellatrix finally gets her action and the muggle side of the war continues to escalate.
Chapter Text
The Delacour family had several residences. The most famous and impressive of these was the Palais de Bordeaux, constructed by their ancestors during the reign of the Sun King. It was also far too large for anything but a formal occasion, which is why the Delacour family kept it in stasis most of the year, opening it only for balls and--on rare occasion--when they needed to intimidate someone. Usually a foreigner trying to make inroads in the French Ministry.
The family instead resided in a country house, just shy of a chateau in size. It was far cozier than the Palais de Bordeaux, the rooms lovingly decorated by generations of Delacour wives, children, and house elves--an even the occasional lord, when they could be bothered. The grounds were dominated by a meadow, though there was a more formal garden on the eastern side. A pond sat between the two. In winter and fall it was a quiet peaceful place, though in summer the pond was often dominated by the sounds of laughters as Delacour children and their friends played and splashed about. Just beyond the meadow was a small orchard where more than one Delacour heir had broken their first bone falling from a tree.
The country home was a place of relaxation, childhood, laughter, and all-around light-heartedness. Which made the sudden appearance of a haggard witch bleeding from the arm stand out all the more.
The sound of her arrival--a sharp crack--attracted Apolline Delacour's attention. Though it was early for her husband to return it was not out of the question, especially if he was irritated enough to apparate so loudly.
Finding the stumbling, bleeding witch, Apolline gasped as she rushed forward, wand in hand.
"Dame Delacour," the witch said, coming to a halt. Apolline gasped again as she caught the purple-stained eyes. "Je m'excuse pour. . ." Her brow furrowed.
"Non, none of that," Apolline said before she could resume. "We must get you inside, and looked at. You are bleeding!"
"Ah," Hermione said with a wince. "I got nicked by a spell turning into the apparation," she said as Apolline hurried her inside.
"Zat is more than a nic," Apolline replied dryly. "Fleur! Viens ici! Votre cœur a besoin de guérison!"
"Mon cœur?" Fleur asked, rushing down the stairs, gasping as she caught sight of her mate. "Hermione! Quoi dans tous les enfers--"
"Nice to see you too," Hermione replied, moving to lean against the wall. Apparently the wound was worse than she'd thought, for she misjudged the distance and would have fallen to the ground had Fleur not caught her.
"What happened?" Fleur asked as she and her mother moved Hermione to the couch.
"Moody," Hermione said with a wince as Apolline magically cleaned the wound. "Caught me with a cutting curse while I was apparating. I apologize for any inconvenience I've brought onto your doorstep," she said to Apolline.
"Hmph," Apolline huffed. " Ferula. " Instantly a large bandage wrapped itself around Hermione's cut arm. "You are family. Or will be," she added with a glance towards Fleur, who blushed uncontrollably. Not that Hermione's cheeks were any less red. "Your ministry will not seek you 'ere. Take time to recover. I know Fleur has been missing you as well--"
"Maman!" Fleur exclaimed, her cheeks heating again.
"I cannot remain for long," Hermione sighed. Thoughts of war finally killed the last of her blush. "I have no doubt that the English are on the offensive, and without--"
"You are no good to zem 'alf-dead!" Fleur exclaimed, getting over her blush as well. "You 'ave ozers, what is ze point of an army if you must be zere for ezery-ting?" Hermione shot up, the amethyst in her eyes glowing.
"I cannot be a leader who abandons her people!" Hermione exclaimed, shooting out of her seat. "I cannot simply let others fight my battles for me, I have to fight them. I have to lead them, I have to be there, I cannot--I refuse to be like my father!" she spat, face misaligned with fury. "I refuse to be like Dumbledore, sending those who put their faith in me to their deaths! I refuse to be like them Fleur. I convinced thee people to rebel, I convinced them to fight, to risk their lives and the wellbeing of their families. I convinced them to trust me, and I'll be damned before I break that!" Hermione was panting as she finished. Her shouting carried through the halls, her face once more red, her eyes now hiding tears.
"Delegation is not abandonment," Fleur said, forcing her voice to remain calm. "You cannot do zis by yourself mon coeur ."
"I know," Hermione said, seeming to deflate. "I know, I just--I can't leave them Fleur," she said, begging her mate to understand.
"You aren't leaving zem," Fleur said, gingerly stepping closer. "Just trusting zem to hold while you recover."
"Right," Hermione sighed. "Trust." Her mind healers had always been on her about that. Now that she knew her parentage, it seemed at least partially an inherited problem. Not that assigning blame made solving it any easier.
"It's just a few days mon coeur." Fleur held open her arms. Hermione hesitated before stepping forward and falling into them. Her head rested in the crook of Fleur's neck. Fleur's arms wrapped around her, a comforting weight that seemed to take away the stress and expectations of the world. Unable to stop herself she began to cry as Fleur gently moved them back to the couch.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Violence Rules in Scotland
Even as the deaths from the Battle of Scone continues to be counted more violence continues to erupt throughout Scotland. Emboldened by the military success of Gwendolyn Black's supporters, further uprisings have emerged. A ten-thousand strong protest march for independence in Aberdeen turned violent after a car backfiring was mistaken for a gunshot. When protesters threw rocks the Grampian Police responded with tear gas and rubber bullets. While many fled at this point, others retaliated, throwing gas cannisters back at the police. Some, believed to be agents of Black's, were revealed to possess firearms and opened fire on the police, at which point the 51st Highlanders were called in from the Gordon Barracks. Faced with trained riflemen and machine guns, the protesters retreated, though attacks on police and servicemen continue to be reported throughout the city.
Glasgow, however, has eclipsed even Aberdeen. While massive protests distracted the police, armed supporters of Gwendolyn Black seized BBC Headquarters. As gunshots rang out through the city, the protest quickly turned into a mob, attacking police and storming City Hall where the Union Jack was taken down and burned. The 52nd Lowland Volunteers, based in the city, have clashed with armed irregulars and the police have been pushed back to their headquarters.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Bellatrix smiled. Not the kind, loving one she shared with her daughter, nor the hungry gaze she gave her lovers. It was a vicious, bloodthirsty thing even the most stringent of goblins would be proud to possess. Looking over her small squad, she nodded once and turned on her heel, disappearing with a pop.
They arrived together, a grey nondescript building standing some twenty meters away. Bellatrix sneered, and one of the muggleborns in the squad rolled his eyes. Nondescript, save for the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere. With only a dirt road leading to it.
Without a word they set about their jobs. Rookwood approached the ward lines. He held his wand like a calligraphy brush, fine movements drawing lines in the air only he could see. The wards tensed and relaxed at his command. Gently they frayed at the edges. Alan Guiness joined the task there, his own wand held more like a pencil as he gingerly pulled at the frayed edges, unraveling the wards bit by bit. Alan had been a respected ward-builder's apprentice until an auror caught him calling home. Less than two days later he'd been thrown into Azkaban for speaking Gaelic.
The wards rolled back as one, their magic gathered into a small ball at the end of Rookwood's wand. With a silent spell he shot them into the sky, where they slowly dissipated. Taking in a deep breath and wiping sweat from his brow, Rookwood nodded at Bellatrix. Bellatrix smiled, and turned towards the rest of the squad.
"Now," she said, violence dancing in her eyes. Anti-apparation and portkey wards went up swiftly, strengthened by the whole group's participation. Bellatrix's enthusiasm had her acting next.
" Bombarda Maxima !" she cried, wand pointed at the grey building's walls. The spell flew across the grass silently. It landed on the concrete wall. It's impact was marked by an explosion deafening even from their distance. The wall shattered, bits of rebar and concrete flying in and out, leaving a massive hole in the side of the building.
"Attack!" Bellatrix yelled gleefully before running towards the building, more spells already leaving her wand. The wall shattered further as her spells were joined first by Dolohov's, then Rookwoods, and at last their less experienced companions. As the wall collapsed the roof began to teeter.
Six wixen in auror's robes rushed out of the side door, turning towards their charging foe.
" STUPIFY! " an older wizard bellowed, red light flashing from the end of his wand. Dolohov easily blocked it, returning fire with his signature curse. A modification of the entrail-expelling curse, his actually expelled entrails from the body rather than clearing them of blockages. The grey haired auror was no exception, his internal organs decidedly less so as they spilled from a hole in his stomach.
" Diffindo! " another auror shouted, slashing with his wand. Bellatrix dodged easily, shifting sideways. She was about to respond when Craig Dunn beat her to it. A viscous cutting curse ripped through the air, severing the witch's head from her shoulders. His eyes were burning with righteous anger. Without pause he turned to the next auror, intercepting his blasting curse with a counter-curse before filling the air with bone-breakers and blood-boilers.
"Retreat!" one of the aurors called out. "We're--" Whatever the aurors were, Bellatrix would never learn. Her confringo shattered the man's skull. Bits of brain, blood, and bone were sprayed across the grass.
"Fall back!" another called, calling forth a powerful shield. Craig Dunn's hastily-cast bone-breaking curse bounced back, hitting him in the calf. The young Scotsman cried out in pain, falling to the ground. Cinaid Ancrum stood over him, blocking the auror's targeted curses as the last three retreated.
" Avada Kedavra! " Dolohov's curse passed through the auror's shield. His second stood, eyes wide, but the third was regrettably competent. Acting quickly she summoned a thin shield of stone. It blocked the curse, shattering on impact. The shielding auror cried out in pain as bits of stone tore into his flesh. The female auror grabbed the back of his coat, pulling the last few steps out of the anti-appartation wards. She twisted on her heel, disappearing before their frantic curses could reach her. The other auror was not so lucky, falling to the Rookwood and Dolohov's mixed barrage.
"Four of six," Alan Guiness remarked. "Not too bad." Bellatrix snarled silently. She wasn't used to letting people get away.
"They'll know we're working with you now," Rookwood remarked.
"That's a discussion for later," Bellatrix said sharply. "Ancrum, heal what you can and get Dunn back to Clogaid Cruaidh. Rookwood, Dolohov, take Guiness and search the building for anything worthwhile." Rookwood and Dolohov both nodded, turning towards the building while Alan Guiness hesitated before jogging to catch up with them. Cinaid Ancrum didn't bother nodding, instead bending down to hastily set and wrap Craig Dunn's leg. Turning away from them, Bellatrix began to take down their wards.
Chapter 52: Meetings and ChangesSummary:
Hermione plans to leave, but Fleur has a surprise offer. At Hogwarts, Seamus begins to rethink his priorities
Chapter Text
Glasgow Rising Defeated
After three days of deadly conflict, the Strathclyde Police have declared that Glasgow is now once again under the control of Her Majesty's government. Aided by the 51st Highland Volunteers, the 52nd Lowland Volunteers, and the members of the HMS Dalriada (a stone frigate) the Strathclyde Police were able to defeat the armed elements that had seized control of Glasgow's City Hall and the Scotland BBC Headquarters. Interrogations have revealed that they expected help from the rebel elements that have seized control of Inverness and Fort William. Instead said rebels, led by Kenneth McDonaugh, assaulted the undefended Isle of Bute.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hermione glared at the numbers floating above her head. With a sigh she rolled off Fleur. Climbing out of bed she stretched, muscles protesting as they were suddenly forced into wakefulness. With a yawn she headed to the bathroom, and a warm shower.
When she stepped back into the room, hair still damp despite her efforts, Fleur was performing her own ablutions.
"Are you certain you must leave?" Fleur asked, wide blue eyes staring into her lover's. Hermione nodded stiffly. She wouldn't be able to hold back a sigh if she spoke. Fleur deflated, looking out the mirror. Dropping her towel, Hermione began to dress. She chose clothes it would be comfortable to fight in. Even if she was just heading back to Clogaid Cruaidh it was best to be prepared.
"I could come with you." Hermione turned, shirt in her hands. She blinked. "I 'ave some training in healing," Fleur said. "Even ze best armies need healers." Staring at her mate, Fleur tilted her head. Hermione had not said anything yet. Her eyes were wide, staring blankly. Fleur couldn't tell if she was shocked or having a stroke.
"Mon coeur?" Hermione shook her self, blinking once more as she stared at Fleur.
"You're sure?" Hermione asked. Fleur nodded. "This isn't something you've just though of on the fly, you're really, really sure?"
"I am."
"War isn't good," Hermione said. "I--the thing's I've already seen, and this is just the beginning. You're really willing to sign up for that, to try and treat people as they're dying and apparating in from a battlefield, people who are murderers and torturers--"
"I am," Fleur said firmly. "I may not wish to take lifes, but I am more zan willing to save zem, even if zey are ze scum of ze earth, so long as it means I am close to you." That was more than Hermione could take. She dropped the shirt she'd been holding and lunged at Fleur, locking lips and wrapping her arms around her. Fleur was stunned for a moment before she responded in kind, rolling them over onto the bed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Seamus Finnigan shuffled awkwardly into the Hog's Head. He hadn't been sure about attending the meeting. He still wasn't, but between Dean and the other Celts he'd been persuaded. Even if Harry was lying (which Seamus was increasingly unsure of, given how much Umbridge and the Ministry were doing to keep him quiet) there was no denying he was skilled at DADA. Besides, it was only a meeting about meeting.
The building was sketchy at best, as were the others around. A man covered head to toe in bandages and a witch with worse fashion sense than Neville's grandmum. Seamus could only hope they weren't spies. Still, he decided to keep himself well-surrounded and hidden in the middle of the cluster of people. That was the only reason he gave the Weasley twins a few sickles for a butterbeer--he certainly didn't trust the mug, but it was best to blend in. His fellow celts seemed to agree. Isobel MacDougal took an especially reluctant sip from her mug. Taking another sip after the first hadn't killed him, Seamus nodded along to what Parvati was saying. After commandeering Harry throughout the Yule Ball they'd settled into decent friends.
"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" Michael Corner interrupted.
"That's not the only reason though," Parvati responded. "I want--I need ," she corrected, "to learn Defense because--because," she paused, taking a deep breath that seemed to settle her. Her eyes had a fierceness to them that Seamus hadn't seen from her before. It was vaguely unsettling, and reminded him of his grandfather, who'd fought in the Easter Uprising. "Because Voldemort has returned."
The reaction was immediate. A tall, skinny Ravenclaw shrieked and spilled butterbeer down her robes. Parvati's twin Padma gasped. Neville choked, Terry Boot twitched, and Zacharius Smith nearly tripped over himself. Seamus' eyes were blown wide. If Parvati believed it--but then, she believed half of what Trelawny said--but still . . .
"That's the plan," Parvati concluded, her gaze daring anyone to interrupt. Zarachrius Smith opened his mouth, but thought better of it.
"Is it true that you can cast a Patronus?" Harry blinked, as did Parvati.
"Yeah," Harry said hesitantly.
"A corporeal patronus?"
""Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" he asked.
The girl smiled. "She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"
"Yes," Harry said.
With that they were off to the races, each member trying to relay some insane feat that Harry had managed. Seamus tuned them out, he'd heard of all of them before. It was unavoidable, given how frequently Ron Weasley would brag about them--even when Harry'd done nearly all the work. That made Seamus' thoughts come to a halting stop. If Harry had done all that--beating a professor to protect the Philosopher's Stone, killing a thousand-year-old basilisk, forcing back a swarm of two hundred dementors with a single spell--then why wouldn't he have been able to escape You-Know-Who. He'd also never bragged about what he'd done, barely even mentioned it. That was all Ron. So why would Harry suddenly change? If he was just lying, wouldn't it be more impressive to say he'd defeated You-Know-Who again?
Seamus shuddered. He didn't like where his thoughts were leading. But if he was right, he had serious thinking to do. Which mattered more, Ireland's freedom from England or both isles' freedom from a dark madman?
Chapter 53: Changing WindsSummary:
Plans and war continue full steam ahead while Parliament stagnates
Chapter Text
Parliamentary Delay! Tory Rebels refuse Major's Demands!
Despite the insistence of Prime Minister John Major that new military funding and permissions are needed immediately, Parliament has once more voted to prolong debate. Joined by Tory rebels led by John Redwood the Opposition was able to delay a vote on the Emergency Military Readiness Act. Despite his defeat in July's leadership election, Redwood seems determined to campaign against Major. Aides close to Redwood say that a new challenge may be in the works, and that "The situation has drastically changed since July's vote."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The strategy meeting was a strange one, Hermione conceded. More than half of those involved were calling in from burner phones, and most of those present were her fellow magicals rather than muggle officers.
"The 51st is still busy in Glasgow," Steven McMurray reported, voice crackling over the connection. "Perth's wide open. We take that and we can march on Fife."
"Fife's well defended," Hermione said. "We don't want to stretch ourselves too thin."
"We've had a surge of volunteers," James McLewis said beside her. "Some are still in training, but we've enough to take Queensferry and the M90 bridge. It'll cut Fife off by land at least."
"We've had the same surge here," Maol MacDuff said. "I can send some of them south to reinforce McMurray if you're willing to hold off our attacks on Moray."
"If we're doin' this, we've got t' do it soon," Angus McDonagh said, his voice barely intelligible over the static. "Poms'll pass that damned bill eventually, gotta consolidate before then. Be better if ya don' have to defend Edinburgh from north and south."
"Angus is right," Kenneth MacDougal said. "Edinburgh's too much of a symbol for us to lose."
"Very well," Hermione said with a nod invisible to more than half of those listening. "Aoife, I'll need to you to pick up the bombings. If Glasgow's still too hot hit Dumfries, but we need the 51st busy in Strathclyde. Maol, Liam, you two coordinate for raids and attacks. Be best if the Aberdeen garrisons are looking North. Steven, you've permission to take Perth as soon as you're able, but hold off on marching on Fife 'til we've had a chance to soften them up. Bella," she added, addressing her mother, "That'll be your job." Her mother gave her trademark bloodthirsty grin. Hermione couldn't help but return it. "Dòchas agus Saorsa."
"Dòchas agus Saorsa," the others responded. One by one they all hung up, returning to their troops and their duties.
"You'll march tomorrow," Hermione said, turning to James. "I'll tie up the Dreghorn and Redfort folks."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ministry's Foes Working Together?
A recent report from the Ministry revealed the presence of Bellatrix Black during the Celtic Liberation Front's attack on the North Scotland Auror's Office. Bellatrix Black, an infamous Death Eater convicted of torturing renowned Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity, was one of three Death Eaters to escape from Azkaban earlier this year. The others--Antonin Dolohov, convicted for the murder of the Prewett Brothers, and Augustus Rookwood, convicted of spying for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named--were not confirmed to be present.
"We remain certain that the breakout was masterminded by Sirius Black," Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge stated. "We believe that they may both be working with Hermione Slytherin, who is known to have a blood connection to the Blacks. This new conflict could be a rallying point for the other escapees." Lady Slytherin claimed the Black seat in the Wizengamot, along with several others, before rebelling against the ministry. Her seats remain active under the proxy of Lady Narcissa Malfoy, sister of Bellatrix Black and cousin of Sirius Black. However, the Ministry has stated it remains certain of the Malfoy family's loyalty.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Explosions broke through the fog of sleep. Not for the first time in the last month Jason Taylor cursed his choice of profession. Quickly throwing on his uniform and grabbing his sidearm he rushed out.
Smoke and fire fought for control of the sky. Rushing towards a group of men readying a firehose, Jason ordered one of them to wake everyone in the barracks. Taking the man's place, Jason braced. The rushing power of the water made him stumble, and he wasn't the only one. Even the largest man there, two meters and a conservative hundred-ten kilograms, was pushed off-balance. Still they managed to get it under control, slowly aiming the hose at the blazing fires.
An explosion broke the sound of the fires. Jason turned to watch in horror as one of the larger barracks went up in flames, roof caved in and only fueling the flames. Turning once more he saw Captain Robertson of the Military Police running towards the barrack's exit, followed by a pack of RMPs. Watching them leave Jason wasn't sure if he wanted them to succeed in their hunt. He just wanted the war over.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Fleur had just finished wrapping one bandage when the next one was needed. Even as the muggle's October Offensive wore on, the wixen were pushing forward too. Her latest patient had misjudged the range of the firebomb he'd planted at the auror's Glasgow regional office. Her newest one had been shot twice before managing to escape. Grabbing her wand again, Fleur carefully extracted the lingering bullet. Accio was too crude to use. When hit with a summoning charm the bullets would tear through skin, uncaring of arteries or infections. Instead she had to use careful, unspelled telekinesis to lift the bullets out through the exact same path they'd entered from. Sighing in relief as the bullet finally exited, Fleur dropped it onto a metal tray. Grabbing a cotton ball, she soaked it in essence of dittany. Squeezing out the excess, Fleur gingerly inserted it into her patient. The wizard hissed in pain, but it was necessary. Traditional healing spells would cause long-term damage as the hole would be filled with scar tissue. Merely pouring dittany into the would would cause excess healing, usually resulting in internal bleeding. Setting a timer for seven minutes, Fleur turned to her next patient.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Pushed out of Fife! Major Presses for Immediate Vote!
In a joint press conference, Secretary of State for Defense Michael Portillo and Secretary of State for Scotland Ian Lang confirmed that the last military instillation under British control in Fife, RNAD Crombie, was taken by rebel supporters of Gwendolyn Black. Survivors of the attacks on the Rosyth Naval Yard have retreated to Clackmannan.
In Parliament, Prime Minister John Major lambasted opposition MPs, declaring that "If our Volunteers can be defeated by a group of fanatics supporting a teenage monarch in a desperate attempt to revive ideas that died in the seventeenth century, then surely that is evidence enough that the current forces and tactics are insufficient." Funding for Trident continues to be an issue, however. Conservative MP David Evans noted, "While it is critically clear that the insurrection in Scotland be immediately and firmly addressed, the idea that now is the time to spend billions of pounds on a programme of--at best--dubious usefulness is ridiculous in the extreme." Opposition MP Donald Dewar, Shadow Secretary of State for Scotland, sounded a different note.
"The entire problem originates with the unwillingness of Major's government to listen," Dewar said. "The current violence stems from the feeling amongst many Scots that they are not being heard by Westminster. Responding by allowing the military unprecedented powers for engagements on British soil is not the way to proceed. [Major] seems determined to make himself a new Butcher Cumberland when a single plebiscite would end the situation peacefully. The majority of Scots desire to remain in the Union, we simply desire to be heard. A referendum on independence and devolution is what would end the situation without bloodshed, would result in a federal system for Scotland, and would strengthen both Scotland and the Union as a whole. That is the outcome the Labour Party supports."
Chapter 54: ElectionsSummary:
A snap election has the chance to change everything. The possibility of Voldemort's return casts a pallor over Hermione's Hogwarts allies
Chapter Text
Jonathan Smith sprinted down the alleyway. Behind him bullets hit the brick wall. Keeping going, Jonathan dove behind a large rubbish bin. Drawing a shaky breath he switched his assault rifle for a pistol.
Jonathan had always been fast. He'd been the star of his college track team, coming third in the Highland Track and Field Championships. Even a decade later his speed still held up, helped along by regular jogging and the intensive training Colonel MacDuff had forced them through.
Jack hadn't been so lucky. The English bullets had caught him back on the third corner, running through his calf. It hadn't been a fatal shot, but they couldn't stop. That's what Sergeant Duncan had said. He said it again when they heard a gunshot that could only have been aimed for Jack. He said it again when Oliva fell. He only stopped after a bullet ran through the back of his neck.
They were getting close. Jonathan could hear their footsteps. He stopped breathing as they moved down the alleyway. His hands were shaking as he held out his pistol. He turned sharply, squeezing the trigger.
Two shots rang out and Jonathan ducked back behind the rubbish bin. There was a scream of pain and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Bullets flew above his head. Others hit the other side of the rubbish bin. Jonathan could only thank God it was full.
Leaning up over the edge, Jonathan shot again before ducking back. Gunshots rang forth again. Jonathan made to turn but stopped, halted by a sharp pain. Checking, he felt blood pouring from his back. His lungs burned as he tried to breath.
Fuck this, Jonathan thought, hand shaking as he once more picked up his assault rifle. I'm not going out hiding behind a rubbish bin. Quick as he could manage, Jonathan stood. He hands were pulling the trigger before he was fully up, making him stumble even before the English bullets hit him. The force of the bullets tipped him over, sending him crashing to the ground as his life fled his veins, blood-slicked gun fallen from his hands.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Military Act Defeated!
Despite the efforts of the Prime Minister--including threatening to remove MPs from his own party who voted against the bill--the Major Government's answer to continued violence in Scotland was defeated in Parliament. Led be former Secretary of State for Wales John Redwood, a group of Conservative dissidents joined the Opposition in voting to defeat the bill. Despite support from some Northern Irish Unionists the Major Government was unable to make up for the defection of forty members.
In the aftermath of the vote, whispers have emerged that Redwood plans on making another leadership challenge. At the same time, anonymous sources close to the Prime Minister suggest there is serious consideration regarding a snap election.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sneaking into BBC Scotland's headquarters was far more difficult this time. Soldiers guarded the doors and armed security guarded the interior. Fortunately, Hermione didn't need to capture the whole building this time.
Under a powerful disillusionment spell Hermione pried open a window. Carefully slipping through, she silenced her footsteps as she climbed the stairs. Muggle security was present when she stepped out, standing on both sides of the doors leading to the broadcast room. Forcing herself to breathe normally, Hermione waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And-- oh thank the gods, Hermione thought as a man in a suit stepped through the elevator doors. Walking behind him, Hermione was careful not to overstep his slow plodding pace. She rushed forward once he was within the doors, barely slipping through before they closed.
Stepping around the workers at their desks and the producers hovering over them, Hermione gingerly slipped her recording into their planned broadcast. Tightening her grip over her magic, Hermione turned on the spot and disappeared, only the faintest pop to show she was ever there--until six o'clock.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Are we willing to work with Death Eaters?" The question was one that had been bubbling for a while, but it needed to be asked. Shockingly it was not Seamus, outspoken irishman that he was, who had asked the question but rather his fellow Gryffindor, Fay Dunbar.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Kenneth Dunn quoted. "Hardly ideal, but if it gets us out from under the Ministry it'll be worth it."
"What if You-Know-Who is back?" Seamus asked. Silence answered his question.
"He's not," Daphne Greengrass answered after a moment's pause.
"But if he is?" Banga O'Delunga asked. "Shouldn't we have at least a plan ?"
"Let the Ministry deal with 'im," Anita MacDuff offered. "Neither's better nor worse for us, let them bleed each other out while we take what was always ours." Seamus was not the only one shocked to hear such a cold statement from a Gryffindor.
"But You-Know-Who is so much worse !" Harvey O'Brien exclaimed. "He'll kill anyone who isn't pure! At least Dumbledore--"
"Dumbeldore sent my brother to Azkaban for speakin' a few words!" Kenneth Dunn exclaimed. "The day I'll help him is the day hell freezes over!"
"You'd let You-Know-Who loose among innocents because of one man?" Seamus demanded. He was far from the last one to shout, as voices and arguments drowned each other out until little could be hear despite the volume.
"Enough!" Greengrass shouted, the sound of a cannon from her wand quelling the volume. "It does not matter, because You-Know-Who is not back! Why fight with each other over something that will never happen?" Her speech ended the arguments, but as the meeting went on Seamus could only feel unease growing over him. He still wasn't sure where he'd fall. For now he'd just hope Greengrass was right.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"John Major may have called this election to grant himself more power," Gwendolyn Black, claimant-Queen of Scotland, said through the hijacked airways. His hijacked airways. "But that is not all it is. This election may well decide the future not only of our country, but of our people. Most of those campaigning for office oppose our independence. I can respect that. What I cannot respect, what I cannot abide, are those who would deny the Scottish people the right to decide our future. The Scottish people have a right to self-determination. Let this election show that the future of Scotland shall be decided by its people. As your queen I ask not that you vote for a particular candidate, nor any particular agenda. Instead I ask that you vote only for those willing to place your future in your hands."
John Brit grit his teeth. It is , he reluctantly admitted, a strong message. Although that is beside the point. Grabbing the phone, John roughly punched in a number that was becoming overly familiar in recent times.
"Devan," John said as his Chief of Security picked up. "Double our numbers in the Scottish office."
"I take it you saw Black's announcement."
"Along with six million others," John grumbled. "I don't know how she keeps getting in. I don't care . I want it solved, yesterday."
"Can't do yesterday, boss," Devan said. "Tomorrow should work."
"That is acceptable."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ceasefire Called as Election Nears!
At 6:18 pm last night, a temporary ceasefire agreement was been reached between the rebelling forces of Gwendolyn Black and Army Headquarters Scotland. Effective immediately, all conflicts are to halt. The ceasefire agreement is due to expire on 13 November, two days after the election. In accordance with the agreement both the rebelling forces and the British Army have withdrawn two miles from all active conflict zones.
"Given the importance of the elections to the future of this conflict, this is deal is a necessity," Major-General Jonathan Hall, the General Commanding Officer of Scotland, said. "This is the best we could do on such short notice."
In a statement given to the Guardian, Gwendolyn Black stated, "This election will determine whether the Scottish people are to decide our own future, or if we are to leave it in the hands of Westminster. To have such an important decision made in anything less than a safe environment would be a dereliction of duty."
While the ceasefire was widely welcomed by Scottish MPs, not everyone was pleased.
"General Hall has a duty to defend and protect the Union," Defense Minister Michael Portillo said. "This agreement is a dereliction of that duty and in defiance of his sworn obligations."
A similar agreement between Gwendolyn Black and the various Scottish Police agencies was struck on Thursday. The agencies have agreed not to attain suspected members of Black's rebellion unless spotted engaging in criminal behavior. The agreement between the Police and Black is set to expire on November 14th.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
John Major bounced his leg restlessly as he waited for the results to come in. He was unsure if he had ever been more nervous. The future of the United Kingdom hung in the balance.
"It's certainly not looking like a good night for Tony Blair and the Labour Party," the male host said.
"No, it's not," his female co-host said. "Exit polls showed a drop in popularity, but I don't think anyone expected this." On the ticker below them, the latest results were being announced. Clackmannan-SNP , the ticker read. Lithlingow--SNP. Slough--CON. Benthal Green & Stepney--CON.
"We're leading in Barrow and Furness!" an aide shouted. John couldn't tear himself from the television. The map was slowly filling in. John felt a sliver of dread creep into him as Scotland was coloured a bright yellow.
"While the focus this election has been on Scotland, Nationalist parties seem to have grown across the board," the male host said. "In Northern Ireland Sinn Fein is having its best night in decades with two seats already called for them."
"Exit polls indicate they've more than doubled their vote share," the female host said. "A similar phenomenon looks to be happening in Wales as well, where Plaid Cymru is running second place, behind Labour."
"The real story tonight might be John Major's surprise victory," the male host said. John tensed, jaw clenching. Were they ready to call it already? "While it is too soon to call, it appears Major's Conservatives may have secured a parliamentary majority despite the collapse of their support in Scotland and Wales."
"The Tories' appeal to English Unionism certainly seems to be paying off," the female host said. "Of two dozen seats they were widely anticipated to lose in the next election, the Conservatives have held onto or are leading in eighteen of them."
"Not to mention the seats they've managed to gain. They've picked up three in Avon alone."
"Four," the female host corrected. "Bristol East has just been called for Jonathan Sayeed."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I can't say I expected this," Hermione said, staring at the morning's paper.
"None of us did," Alex Salmond said.
"The war's going to escalate, isn't it?" Margaret Ewing sighed. Hermione grimaced.
"Yes," she said plainly. "Our people have made a clear choice, but Major has his majority. He will not let us go easily. We must tear ourselves from England's grasp." She looked up, eyes catching both recently re-elected MPs. "I need you to set up a temporary government," Hermione said. "Inverness is securely in our hands."
"I will invite all those elected to join," Salmond said.
"Most will refuse," Hermione cautioned.
"Precisely the point," Ewing said. "Our people will know who is truly on their side."
Chapter 55: Around Scotland in 80(ish) days)Summary:
With the election over we take a look at Scotland and the war from a variety of perspectives
Notes:
Hi everyone!
First things first, apologies for not updating in so long. If you're still reading, thank you, and I hope you enjoy!
Second, this is the first of two time-skip chapters. Both are rather nebulous on dates, but cover the time between the election and the events towards the end of Order of the Phoenix, which will be covered in Chapter 57.
Lastly, my thoughts and prayers are with the people of Ukraine as they continue to resist unprovoked and brutal invasion. If you have money to spare, please consider donating to one of the many organizations organizing convoys of humanitarian aid.
Chapter Text
"With a vote of Three hundred Fifty-two for and Two hundred Thirty-three against, with Five abstentions, Bill 2, an Act to Promote the Sanctity of the Union, also known as the Scottish Pacification Act, is passed."
"So it begins," Hermione sighed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Maven McCabe huffed as she looked over the prow. Ten wixen was truly overkill for simple transport, even if it was an important one. Surely there's something more important we could be doing, she thought.
"Brooding again?" Maven turned, glaring at her mission commander.
"Yes, sir." Maol Egen chuckled at her response. Maven's glare deepened.
"It'll be over soon McCabe, no need to fret."
"I still don't see why this needs all of us," Maven grumbled.
"Perhaps that will answer your question." Maven turned, following Maol's finger. She frowned, squinting her eyes. A long ship, an off-white shaded grey, hovered near the horizon, swiftly making its way towards them. She shivered as the guns came slowly into view.
"Start casting," Maol ordered. "I'll gather the rest." Maven nodded, her wand slipping into her hand.
" Abscond intus," Maven chanted, waving her wand in a circular pattern. " Sùil thairis , air chall , praeteritus ." The words and spells kept coming, growing in strength as the other wixen joined her on deck. Magic flowed from them until there was nothing left. Maven stumbled back, heaving breaths as she tried to regain her strength. The English she grew closer and closer. To Maven it seemed the very waves and the sky darkened. The guns pivoted. Maven held her breath. She heard another witch gasp as it hovered in their direction.
The gun moved. The English ship carried on. Maven let out her breath, sagging in relief and collapsing onto the deck.
"It worked," a wizard said. "I--it worked."
"No need to sound so surprised," Mary Dunloch laughed. "It was our Queen's idea."
"I'm just glad we got through," Maol said. "We need these planes."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Still think we'll manage a Christmas truce?" Edwin asked sarcastically as a plane buzzed overhead.
"No reason not to be optimistic," Jenna replied, placing a fresh clip in her Ak 5. Aeroplane engines roared back into life as the English swooped down. Both of them ducked further behind the concrete barrier, letting the machine gun launch its bullets less than a meter over their head.
An explosion sounded nearby. Edwin poked his head back up, sighing with relief as he spotted the plane's burning wreckage. He flinched at the sound of crunching debris before spinning towards it. His finger brushed the trigger. He pulled it as the camo came into view, a burst of bullets serving as the Englishman's welcome party.
Jenna popped up next to him, adding her fire to his own as the rest of the English squad pushed into the doorway.
"McLewis wants us to advance!" Jenna shouted over the weapons fire. Edwin opened his mouth to reply when he saw a small object being lobbed.
"Grenade!" he shouted, diving behind the concrete barricade. Jenna landed a second later, her arm reaching towards her belt. The explosion rattled their ears. Edwin shook his head as he pushed himself up. His vision was a bit blurry. His ears were ringing. He didn't have time for this.
Jenna dragged him back down. Only seconds later another explosion, this one a bit further off--or were his ears just not working?--went off.
"That should take care of them," Jenna said as she came back up.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hermione sighed, leaning into her girlfriend. Fleur's hand carded through her black curls, drawing forth another sigh of contentment. Hermione smiled, nuzzling into Fleur's shoulder.
"It's been far too long, mon cherie," Fleur said, gently kissing Hermione's head.
"It has," Hermione agreed, turning to answer one kiss with another. Their lips met, albeit briefly. Hermione smiled up at her girlfriend. "We should do this more often."
"Your mozzer certainly seems to be enjoying herself," Fleur said. What? Hermione thought, searching the room. There was Aunt Cissa, leaning on Lucius' arm as they talked with some guests. Draco was talking with Nott while Crabbe and Goyle shuffled awkwardly. Daphne was dancing with Blaise-- they'd make a good couple, if they swung that way , Hermione thought--but her mother . . .
Hermione squeaked and looked away, blushing a dark red. Fleur laughed as she buried her head in her girlfriend's side.
"I can't unsee that!" Hermione protested, gesturing wildly to where her mother was making out with the Lady Selwyn.
"At least this one's not married," Fleur pointed out. Hermione grumbled but acceded the point. Lady Selwyn had divorced her husband and Lord-Consort, winning custody of their twins.
"Maybe she'll settle down?" Hermione hopefully suggested, before blanching a moment later. Emma and Emily would love her mother. A bit too much. The amount of mischief they get up to already . . .
"I do not think your mozzer is a one-witch woman," Fleur laughed. The statement was, for the first time, a relief to Hermione.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Over there!" Brian Taylor called, pointing off the prow of the motorboat.
"Sir, we're on in five minutes!" Adam Mallory protested.
"We need to get closer," Brian Taylor said. "I don't want the cameras missing a moment of this." Adam groaned in frustration but gestured for the boat's captain to hurry up. Bloody field correspondents, Adam thought. Massaging his forehead he grabbed the headphones connected to the cabin's small TV.
"--have finally been freed and are currently being transported to either their destination or point of origin," Sally Magnusson's voice said. "Chunnel operators have identified the issue at hand--electronic failures due to unexpectedly heavy ice and snow falls. They have promised to review their systems to ensure such an incident will not happen again."
"We're in the segue!" Adam shouted. Brian Taylor grimaced, looking around.
"Good enough I guess!" he shouted. "I'll just make do." Brian shifted to the side, standing in front of the camera. Adam stepped away from the headset, sidling next to the camera man.
"We're good boss," Larry told him. Adam nodded, moving back to the headphones.
"--has been calling for the ships to be released," Sally said. "For a closer look we go to our correspondent Brian Taylor. What's the situation Brian?"
"Well Sally, I'm fifteen miles off the coast of Edinburgh right now, and if you look off the prow you can see some of the freighters that are involved in this standoff."
"The first question, I suppose, has to be what are those ships carrying? Do you know?" Sally asked.
"You've hit the nail on the head Sally," Brian said. "The truth is, no one really knows what the cargo is. The Ministry of Defense has said they have reason to believe there's contraband onboard, which could mean anything from high-octane fuel to fighter jets. Crowley Maritime, the company that owns these ships, says that they're transporting humanitarian supplies, mainly food. The situation has been further complicated by the fact that the cargo--whatever it may be--was purchased by Gwendolyn Black, the leader of the Scottish rebellion. . . ."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"DOWN!" Army Major Jeremy Brown followed the instruction immediately, diving for cover behind a weapons rack. A rocket whizzed overhead, followed immediately by an explosive wave. Jeremy grunted as the ground shook underneath him. It did fortunately little to him, but the weapons rack must have been unbalanced as it landed painfully on Jeremy's back a moment latter.
With a huff Jeremy forced himself back up, grabbing one of the fallen guns as he did. Officers might be given service pistols, but he felt more comfortable with a rifle on hand.
"How the hell did they get here?" Colonel Edmunson demanded, already standing in proper formation, pistol in hand.
"A91 from Kinross!" someone shouted. Jeremy turned, bringing his rifle to bear. He was just a fraction too slow, watching with wide eyes as the speaker--young, male, hint of stubble--shot the Colonel. Jeremy opened fire a moment later, killing the young Scot. More shots rang out, narrowly missing him. Jeremy ran, ducking behind the wall of a shed. Gun braced against his shoulder he peeked out from around the corner. Seeing a glint in his sights Jeremy shifted and opened fire.
"Sir!" Leftenant Sorner said, stopping next to Jeremy. "Captain Smythe's reporting tanks on the south entrance."
"Have Johnsson grab the M3s and help hold them off til we get our own up and running," Jeremy ordered. "And get someone to radio central command for aide!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You want us to what?"
"What would it take?"
"To rise openly? More than we have, that's for sure. Even if we could get the volunteers, we don't have nearly enough arms or cash--"
"How. Much. Would. It. Take?"
"I--I don't know off the top of my head."
"Then figure it out," Hermione growled, her eyes flashing amethyst. "And I'll get it to you. Just be ready to rise."
"Right," the man said. "Right. Okay. We can do that."