The Woes of Leadership

Harry's gaze followed the man he had been watching for the past several minutes, another that had not learned from the fate of many of his peers. Some may consider his blasé dismissal of the threat against him bold, but Harry would deem it to be stupidity.

Every day for weeks now there had been one that either fancied their chances or didn't believe they were at risk.

All of Grindelwald's men were at risk.

With a gentle hiss that reverberated off the walls, his target for the evening stiffened, his wand grasped in a trembling hand.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, his voice wavering, an octave or two higher than was natural.

"As you wish."

With a flick of his wand, a long, thick whip snapped from the end and wrapped itself around the man's neck, and he collapsed to his knees as he fought for breath, frantically trying to free himself.

With a tug, he was slammed to the ground, and Harry dragged the whimpering man towards him.

"I did say you wouldn't be safe," Harry reminded him. "Now, do be a loyal little follower and scream for me."

With a wave of his wand, the whip relinquished its' hold as it turned into an enormous snake.

The man obeyed Harry's command, screaming as he attempted to flee, to no avail.

His screaming was silenced by the snake that latched around his throat with its' jaws, and the man hit the ground with a dull thud, twitching for only a moment before he became lifeless, and the serpent began to feast on him.

The warehouse Harry found himself in had once been used as premises where healing potions were made in bulk.

Not any longer, however.

Since Grindelwald had taken control of Belgium, the place had been closed, like many other once-bustling business.

With a crash, one of the doors to building was kicked open, and Harry disappeared into the confines of his invisibility cloak as large group of men entered, each with their wands drawn as they looked around for him.

"Come out coward!" one roared, less confidently than he had intended.

"It's Marco," another announced as he came upon the scene of what may have been his friend being devoured by a snake.

The first growled, the rest of the group having split up in search of Harry, a mistake on their part.

"BASTARD! WHERE ARE YOU? I'LL RIP YOUR BALLS OFF AND SHOVE THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT!"

Harry snorted to himself.

In the last several weeks since he had been making nightly visits to Bruges, he'd heard all manner of threats, some more creative than others.

His favourite had been when an Italian had vowed that his wife would be wearing Harry's wedding vegetables as earrings.

Although Harry had chuckled at the image it conjured, the Italian had remained breathing for only a moment after his declaration.

"I know you're here somewhere, Serpent," the threatening man growled from only a few feet away. "Show yourself!"

"If you insist."

His hissing reverberated off the walls, and though the men that had come hunting him could not understand what he'd said, they didn't need to. The sound of hissing itself was enough to frighten them, and the sound of the doors and windows slamming shut and locking had them banding together in the centre of the warehouse.

"What is happening?" one of them asked.

"Shut up!" another instructed harshly, his eyes flitting to each corner of the room as he continued looking for Harry.

With only a wave of his wand, Harry had gathered them all in one spot, perfect for an ambush that would only frighten them more, leaving them less likely than they already were to rest peacefully at night.

He had promised that none would whilst they were here, after all.

Another hiss and a collective shudder from the invaders, but these were not empty words from Harry.

At his command, snakes of all breeds began to poor into the room; some from beneath the machinery, others through the floor itself, and some even raining down from the high ceiling above.

The result was sheer panic.

The last fraying strand holding their nerve together finally snapped, and the men scattered, running without direction in an attempt to escape the snakes.

"TO THE DOOR!" a man shouted, gesturing for his comrades to join him.

Harry looked on in amusement as they fell over themselves and one another to reach the door they had entered through, shooting wide-eyed glances over their shoulders as the snakes continued to chase them.

"BLAST IT OPEN!"

Harry had done nothing to reinforce the door.

He wanted his enemies to fear him, and dead men told know tales.

No, it was better to allow some to live so they could share their experience with others.

With a final chuckle, he watched as they manged to escape, piling through the door with the snakes still striking at their heels.

Harry shook his head and vanished the serpents, leaving only the one behind that had eaten his victim of the night.

Though he wished for them to fear him, they needed a reason to, and a death or two a day would only add to the stories Grindelwald's men would tell about him.

For tonight, his work here was done, and even though the ICW and the new Head of the Department of justice were seemingly content with allowing Grindelwald to remain here unopposed, Harry wasn't.

What troubled him was that he seemed to be the only one who cared enough to make the trip here every night.

Not once had he seen nor even sensed any other even looking in on the country from time to time.

Belgium had been forgotten by most, but not Harry.

With a final look around at his hunting ground for the night, he activated his portkey and returned home to Godric's Hollow.

"Hello, boy," he said, greeting Theseus as he entered the kitchen. "What have you got for me today then?"

There were three letters in all, one from Gringotts, one from Poppy, and the last causing a frown to crease his brow as he took in the familiar crest.

Shaking his head, Harry broke the seal.

Your presence is requested with the new Head of the Department of Justice for the International Confederation of Warlocks this coming Friday at noon (local time).

Do not be late.

The missive neither greeted him formally, nor was it signed, the rudeness in which he had been addressed certainly not leaving Harry with a good impression of Ghost and whomever had sent the letter.

Still, it was about time.

For weeks Harry had been waiting for this to arrive, each day that passed leaving him increasingly pessimistic about the new regime.

They were supposed to be combatting Grindelwald, and though Harry couldn't be certain of what Ghost had been up to, whatever it was had taken too long.

Now was the time for action, but the opposite had been done.

Were it not for Harry and his own efforts, Grindelwald's men would have been left well alone in Belgium, their confidence growing as they settled into the country.

As far as he was concerned, Ghost could summon him all he liked, and perhaps the man was looking forward to the meeting, but not as much as Harry was.

Ghost may be his superior now, but already Harry had grown tired of him and was looking forward to saying his piece.

Nothing was more important than Grindelwald right now.

It seemed that Ghost had forgotten that, and Harry felt obliged to remind the man of what his priorities were.

(Break)

Gellert had busied himself with training his men. Perseus had yet to return from his recruitment venture with Weber, and Cassiopeia was working on something else entirely, something that would bring his future plans to fruition.

For the most part, his liberation of Belgium had spelled a somewhat quiet period for Gellert. It had given him time reaffirm his plans and take stock of how far he had progressed in seeing his vision come to life.

He shook his head in frustration as a knock sounded at the door to his study.

It had been as trying as it had welcoming.

"Yes!" Gellert huffed.

It was Gaulitier that entered, the man having taken it upon himself to fill in for Weber whilst he was away.

Not that the German was much of a replacement.

Weber would bring Gellert whispers, news from his network of spies. Hans would only bring unwelcome news, things that had already happened that Gellert could do nothing about.

It was irksome to say the least.

Without Weber carrying out his work, Gellert was all but blind to what was happening outside the countries he controlled.

It was unnerving to be so reliant on the man, but his loyalty was unquestionable.

"How many?" Gellert asked.

"Only one tonight," Hans answered, "but it could have been more."

Gellert nodded.

The Serpent had struck again.

Not a single night of peace shall be had whilst your men are here

That had been the simple message left by his foe several weeks past now, and The Serpent had proven to be a man of his word.

Every night since, Gellert had lost followers.

Some had perished and others had fled. Regardless of their fate, Gellert was losing men, and with the Russians now having involved themselves in the war, he could ill-afford to.

At first, Gellert had attended the scenes of the attacks, but The Serpent had been long gone.

Sometimes, a mocking hiss could be heard as Gellert arrived, but nothing else.

Not only was The Serpent killing his men, but he was also mocking Gellert, though his choice of action in doing so was questionable.

The Serpent was ruthless, even barbaric with how he dispatched of his targets.

Were it not his own men falling victim to him, Gellert might respect him.

He certainly hadn't anticipated facing a foe like this, not so soon at the very least.

"What would you have me do, Gellert?" Gaulitier asked.

"I want him captured, Hans, as I have said time and time again."

"He's unpredictable, Gellert," the German replied. "Some nights he is in Bruges, and others he is in a different country entirely. He might not be everywhere at once, but the men are hearing of what he's doing."

"Then silence the rumours," Gellert sighed irritably. "Either capture him, or keep his deeds quiet, it makes little difference to me which."

"I will do what I can," Hans assured him.

Gellert didn't doubt the man was doing all he could to prevent the attacks, but their enemy was no ordinary man.

The Serpent had proven that he was no average wizard, and all he did now would only make killing him all the more satisfying.

(Break)

Although Ivan had passed away, it was business as usual at the ICW headquarters. The same busybodies Harry had become accustomed to seeing were milling around, the guards in their white robes carried out their duties, and even the gum-chewing receptionist remained at her post.

"I'm here to see the Head of the Department of Justice," he announced.

The woman snorted.

"All meetings no action that one," she said disapprovingly. "I'll fetch the Assistant Head of Department. Everything goes through her."

"Assistant Head?" Harry asked.

The woman nodded.

"A yank," she whispered scandalously. "Snooty little cow. I'll fetch her."

It didn't take much pondering on Harry's part to deduce who the receptionist was referring to.

"She will see you now," the receptionist announced when she returned, a look of disgust marring her features.

With a shake of his head, Harry stepped through into the corridor where a woman in royal blue robes was waiting for him.

Although her appearance was different from what it had been during the last meeting when Ghost was offered his new, lofty position, Harry had no doubt on who this was.

"Fox," he greeted her cordially.

She scrutinised him for a moment before holding out her hand expectantly.

"You will submit your wand."

Harry chuckled.

"You've got no chance."

"No one sees him with their wand," Fox insisted. "We do not know who can be trusted."

"You're telling me," Harry replied.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Before Harry could answer, the door behind the woman opened.

"It is okay, Fox," Ghost assured her. "I think we can make an exception for him."

"But…"

"Come in," Ghost offered, cutting his assistant off.

Harry did so, ignoring the glaring woman.

He had neither the time nor patience to tolerate her attempts to exert her perceived power over him.

He'd dealt with enough people like that throughout his life, and those days were far behind him.

"Please, take a seat," Ghost instructed, taking one for himself and Fox in another next to him where she picked up a waiting quill.

Harry sat and looked at the duo expectantly, ignoring the amount of work that had gone into decorating the office.

If this was what had been prioritised over preparing for Grindelwald, then he would be most displeased.

"There are a few things we must discuss with you," Fox explained, "but first, we must begin by continuing our work in rewriting the personnel files that have yet to turn up. What is your name?"

She looked at Harry expectantly, her quill poised.

"Just like that?" Harry asked. "You expect me to give you my name?"

"Of course," Fox replied.

Harry shook his head.

"No," he said firmly.

"You will provide your information, or your employment will be terminated!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the woman before standing.

"Then you can shove your job up your arse."

He turned to leave only to be halted by a panicked Ghost.

"Wait!" he pleaded.

Harry paused and turned to look at the man.

"Your information can wait for the time being," Ghost relented. "I think we may have gotten off to a bad start," he added pointedly at Fox whose jaw tightened.

"He is not above regulations!" she hissed.

"With how things are, some regulations must be ignored," Ghost sighed.

"I do not like this," Fox whispered. "If he refuses to comply then he should be…"

Ghost cut her off with a warning look before turning his attention back to Harry.

"You do not trust us," he stated simply. "After what happened in Prague, I can't say I blame you. You saved our lives that day, and to me, that counts for a lot."

"And your team put my life in danger," Harry pointed out. "That counts for a lot where I'm concerned."

"That wasn't our fault!" Fox huffed irritably.

"Perhaps," Harry shrugged, "but if you can't control half a dozen people, how can I have any faith that you can control the entire department?"

Ghost nodded thoughtfully.

"Mistakes were made, and I take full responsibility for them, but that is in the past. We must now look forward to the future. Believe me, I was just as devastated as any with what happened to Federov. I would much rather he was still here."

"As would I," Harry agreed, eliciting a look of anger from Fox.

"So, you are unwilling to work with us?" the woman pressed. "If so, then you are a danger to the department and the rest of your colleagues."

"Oh, shut up, Jennifer," Harry huffed.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, her eyes widening in shock.

"Jennifer Dale, that is your name, isn't it? You're from Milwaukee in the states, unmarried."

The woman could only gape like a fish out of water whilst Ghost stared at Harry speculatively.

"If I wanted either of you dead, you would be already," Harry assured them as he leaned back in his chair.

"You have the files," Ghost said matter-of-factly.

"I have," Harry confirmed. "Ivan entrusted them to me before he was killed, and I will be keeping hold of them."

"You will not!" Fox argued.

Ghost held up a hand to silence the woman.

"I had thought that Grindelwald had somehow gotten hold of them," he explained, his posture relaxing considerably. "If Ivan trusted you enough to have them, then you should keep them."

"You cannot be serious?" Fox scoffed.

"I am," Ghost said firmly. "There is none more than The Serpent that has done more in the fight against Grindelwald. He saved our lives once before, and many others since. Let's face it, if he decided he wanted this job, the ICW would have given it to him without hesitation."

"I wasn't interested," Harry reminded the man.

"And that is the only reason I find myself in this chair."

Fox did not seem to be happy with how the conversation was going and cleared her throat.

"What about the attacks? You're not going to let him get away with them?"

"Attacks?" Harry asked.

"Against Grindelwald's men over the past several weeks," Ghost explained. "You are behind them?"

Harry nodded unashamedly.

"I don't like being idle and allowing an enemy to grow stronger."

Ghost released a deep breath.

"We have been idle whilst we make preparations for the defence of France," he informed Harry, much to the disbelief of his assistant. "We have it on good authority that will be Grindelwald's next target."

"And what have you done so far?" Harry asked curiously.

"We have been preparing Paris so that it will be a more beneficial fighting ground than we have had at our disposal thus far," Ghost explained. "When Grindelwald comes, we will be ready."

Harry shook his head.

"Paris?"

Ghost nodded.

"There is a lot of land between Paris and where Grindelwald will be coming from," Harry pointed out. "We should be preventing him from entering France altogether. We should be preparing the land on the border with Belgium."

"That is too dangerous," Fox snorted.

"It is better than allowing him to walk through most of the country we are trying to keep him out of," Harry said hotly. "If you haven't noticed, we are losing this war with the tactics we have used. If you want to prevent him taking the country, he must not be allowed to enter it to begin with. Whose stupid idea was defending from Paris?"

"Mine," Fox defended angrily.

"Then you're a bloody idiot," Harry declared. "If his men cross the border, then France is lost. Even with our combined forces, we will lose."

"You don't know that," Fox huffed.

"Yes I do!" Harry countered. "We will be defending Paris to keep it standing. Grindelwald won't care if the city burns to the ground, and that will make the difference. If you can't see that, then you have no business planning any battles."

"I am more experienced than you," Fox growled.

"In years, maybe," Harry conceded, "but I have been fighting this war since before you knew it was coming."

"Enough!" Ghost snapped. "This bickering between the two of you will solve nothing. I'm sorry but our preparations have already been made. With not knowing how long it will be before Grindelwald invades, I will not risk changing the plans that are in place."

Harry shook his head frustratedly.

"We need to start winning this war," he urged. "We cannot afford more defeats than we have already faced."

"You are not a soldier, Serpent," Ghost reminded him. "You are a Hit-Wizard of the International Confederation of Warlocks. Your job is to hunt down and bring in the world's most wanted men and women, not devise battle plans for war."

"And where do you think these men and women we are supposed to be hunting have hidden themselves? They certainly aren't signing up to fight for us, are they?"

"Probably not," Ghost agreed, "but your job is to find them. Let us who fought in the last war plan for this one."

Harry chuckled darkly.

"If you think this war will be anything like the last, then you are naïve. This will be different on our side and the muggle's. Mark my words, Brian, if Grindelwald is allowed to enter France with his men, you will not get him out of it and the blood of all the men that die will be on your hands."

Ghost did not seem to like Harry using his name, and once more, Harry stood and shook his head disappointedly.

"I did hope that since you were taking your time in making decisions that you were considering them carefully or making changes at the very least. It seems that I was wrong. I don't know what it is you and your assistant have been up to, but you are making the same mistakes that have been made already. This isn't just you and five others you have to worry about. You have an entire army you are responsible for, fathers, husbands, and brothers."

"I KNOW!" Ghost roared as he stood, his palms pressed into the top of his desk as he trembled.

"Then get it right!" Harry growled. "What you're doing is wrong, and when those trying to defend France are in the middle of a fight that shouldn't be happening realise it, then what? How are you going to get them out?"

Ghost said nothing and Fox glared at Harry hatefully.

"They should have the wards on the French border at their backs and the enemy where they can see them. You have the advantage of preparing the battlefield but instead you are giving Grindelwald exactly what he wants."

"I believe in the plan we have formulated," Ghost said stiffly.

"You did until you heard mine," Harry returned, "but it's like you said, Grindelwald could arrive any time now, so you have to stick to what you have. I just hope you're prepared to deal with the fallout."

"There will be no fallout!" Fox snapped.

Harry shrugged.

"If you say so, but I will continue doing my job, and we know that you won't fire me," he snorted.

"You are not so untouchable," Fox warned.

"Maybe not," Harry replied carelessly before turning and heading towards the door.

"I was hoping you would take my old position and lead my team," Ghost called after him. "They're a good group and need someone to lead them."

"You mean you want to keep an eye on me," Harry corrected. "Why not send her?" he added, nodding in Fox's direction. "She'd be better off there than pissing people off here. If she believes in her plan so much, why isn't she in Paris seeing her efforts brought to life?"

Neither answered.

"I work alone, and I certainly won't place myself with people I don't trust. You've done nothing to prove that I can trust either of you, and I expect that what little respect or admiration I feel for you now will fade when France falls. Enjoy the peace whilst it lasts."

Those were Harry's parting words.

With nothing more to say to the new Head of the Department of Justice, he took his leave from the ICW headquarters, his mood more morose than when he'd arrived.

In the intervening weeks since Ivan had died, nothing had been achieved, and Harry felt a sense of dread fill him.

Fox's plan was a foolish one, and Grindelwald would relish another victory over an enemy that didn't seem to learn from previous mistakes.

Harry had seen what had happened in Poland, in Belgium, and the other countries that Gellert had seized for himself.

Fox's plan would see the man to another success, and when a country like France fell to him, there would be more that believed he could be successful.

Others would arrive to join him, and once more, those opposing Grindelwald would find themselves at a numbers disadvantage, the euphoria after the arrival of the Russians being for nothing and as short-lived as any defence of France from within its' borders would be.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed under his breath.

Things just kept going from bad to worse and there was nothing he could do about it.

A small part of him now wished he'd accepted Ivan's position, but that was not his role in this war.

His job was to keep doing what he had been, and with that in mind, he activated his portkey to take him to Belgium once more.

With the plans that were in place, it would be likely that he wouldn't be visiting Bruges or any other city here for much longer.

If Ghost insisted on seeing the foolhardy plan through, Harry would be spending more time in France than he wished.

If their failure wouldn't be the death of him.

(Break)

"You look beautiful, Minerva," her father commented from where he was leaning against the doorframe to her room.

"Thank you," Minerva replied quietly.

She had opted to wear a green dress with matching hat for the wedding. Her hair had been styled in an elaborate bun held in place with a few bobby pins.

It wasn't often that she had the opportunity to dress up anymore.

With working at Hogwarts, she was expected to wear robes whenever she was in the castle. It felt nice to be out of them, even if it was for only a day.

"Are your weddings different to ours?" Robert asked curiously.

Minerva frowned thoughtfully.

"During a wizarding ceremony, you make similar vows, but they are done in the name of magic. They're quite similar other than that detail I suppose."

Robert nodded his understanding.

"I'd like to see one," he declared, "hopefully your own."

"What makes you think I wouldn't want you to officiate my wedding?" Minerva asked.

Robert was taken aback by her response, but he smiled, nonetheless.

"You'd want a traditional wedding?"

"I think I would," Minerva answered. "I remember watching them when I was a little girl. You'd sit me next to the organ."

"Where I could keep an eye on you," Robert chuckled.

"I wasn't so bad," Minerva huffed.

"No, but you were certainly adventurous. A little too bold for your own good."

"Maybe."

Robert laughed at her petulance.

"Will Harry be going with you today?"

"He should be here soon. He wouldn't miss it."

"Even if there is a war on?"

Minerva nodded.

"He's never missed anything important yet."

"He's a good man," her father declared.

"Better than anyone knows," Minerva sighed sadly.

Robert crossed the threshold and pulled her into his arms. Squeezing her gently, he kissed Minerva on top of her head.

"We are here for you," he assured her. "Your mother and me are here. Even if you just need to vent, you know we will always listen. I won't pretend to understand most of what is happening, but I will try. I know this can't be easy for you."

"It isn't," Minerva replied with a shrug, "but this is Harry. He's lived a very strange and dangerous life. It's all he's ever known."

"You're worried about him."

Minerva nodded.

"He's the strongest person I know…"

"But even the strongest of us can only take so much."

"He doesn't seem to get that," Minerva muttered. "Anyone who has ever been there for him has been taken away. He sees it as his responsibility to fight against the monsters that would harm innocent people."

"He's a righteous man."

"I wouldn't go that far," an amused voice replied from the door. "I'm good at what I do."

"Because you have done it so much," Minerva said pointedly. "Don't argue with me, Harry Evans," she added warningly.

"Does she get that from you or her mother?" Harry asked Robert.

Robert laughed heartily as he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Lad, she comes from two proud and fiery families. Who knows exactly where it comes from, but my mother was just like her. You won't win an argument with Minerva."

"I've learnt that already," Harry replied with a smirk.

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him.

"You look beautiful, even when you're annoyed with me."

Minerva blushed unwittingly.

"Compliments won't get you very far with me," she returned.

"I was just being honest," Harry replied with a shrug. "I know better than to try to win you over."

Minerva shook her head.

"Shut up, Harry."

Harry grinned at her, and Minerva felt her resolve crumble as she returned the gesture.

He tested her patience at times, but she wouldn't have him any other way.

Despite everything he did, he managed to keep hold of some of that same cheek he'd always had.

In a way, it was rather endearing.

"Are you ready to leave?" Minerva asked.

Harry nodded.

"I'm waiting for you, as always."

"You'll be waiting even longer," she decided. "I think I will have some tea before we go."

"We have time," Harry replied.

Minerva led them from the room and into the kitchen where her mother was pottering around.

"Oh, look at you," she squealed excitedly as she took in Minerva's appearance. "That is a beautiful dress," Isobel added, running her hand over the fabric.

"I feel quite offended," Harry mused aloud. "No one made this much of a fuss over me."

"Ah, lad, do you need me to tell you that you look beautiful in your suit?" Robert teased. "No? Then stop your whinging."

"Well, there's some appreciation," Harry snorted, accepting the mug of tea Isobel offered him.

"You look very handsome, Harry," she assured him.

"That's better," Harry declared happily, sipping the warming liquid.

Robert shook his head and Minerva sighed deeply.

"Is it going to be one of those days today?" she asked.

"Maybe," Harry replied. "I'm just surprised that Ogden of all people has found someone to marry him."

"Well, Tiberius can be quite the gentleman," Minerva conceded.

"When he isn't talking," Harry quipped.

"Not that you're in a position to judge."

"Touché," Harry mumbled before draining his mug. "Come on, we will be late if we don't get a move on. It's not every day we get to see Tiberius Ogden on his best behaviour. I bet he still drops himself in it somehow."

"I won't be taking that bet," Minerva sighed as she hugged her mother and father. "Only an idiot would think he can manage it."

Harry nodded his agreement.

"Thank you for the tea, Mrs McGonagall. I will make sure Minerva here stays out of trouble."

Minerva shot Harry a questioning look, but he ignored it in favour of taking hold of her arm and activating the portkey.

"He's probably the only person she can tolerate being the way he is," Isobel said amusedly.

"Aye," Robert agreed. "He's a good lad."

(Break)

"Don't they look good together?" Lord Ogden asked, his voice full of pride as he looked upon his son and bride as they twirled around the dancefloor.

"They do," William agreed with a smile.

"Still no luck finding your boy a match?"

William took a sip of his whiskey before he shook his head.

"Not yet, but I believe he is working on it."

Ogden nodded approvingly as William smirked at his red-cheeked son.

"The joys of being a pureblood," Harry commented, wincing as Charlus kicked him under the table.

"My threat still stands, Harry," Angelica warned. "I'm sure I could find you a suitable bride."

Judging by the look Minerva shot his wife, William didn't think the young woman would be best pleased if she were to follow through with the warning.

"That won't be necessary," Harry replied dismissively. "I have more than enough women in my life, thank you very much."

"Excuse me?" Angelica balked, eliciting a chuckle from William and the other men seated with them.

"Well, I have you, and you certainly keep me on my toes. Then there's Perenelle, she's more than enough of handful as it is."

"Don't forget Rosalina," Charlus added.

Harry nodded.

"There's her too," he agreed. "We can't forget about Poppy who insists on checking me over whenever she sees me, and then there's this one," he finished, jerking a thumb in Minerva's direction.

"And what role do I serve in that?" the woman asked dryly.

"I'd be lost without you," Harry answered simply, causing the Scot to redden.

"Well, I think it is more important now than ever to cement our legacies," Ogden sighed. "With everything happening in the world, we need to secure our lines."

William nodded but didn't comment.

He wouldn't rush Charlus into marrying the girl he wished to court.

The situation between his own family and the Blacks was already delicate enough, and William trusted his son would do the right thing at the right time.

"You've seen it for yourself, Will, what's it like over there?" Ogden asked curiously.

"Bad," William answered honestly. "We are being pushed further and further away with the more countries that fall under his control."

Ogden nodded, his expression quite grim.

"I have been told by the father of the bride that were it not for a certain individual being present that things could be much worse," he muttered just loudly enough that those at the table could hear him.

"I suppose he would know," William sighed, "being on the continent and all, but yes, he has been invaluable."

He shot a tense Harry an appreciative glance.

"How is it that one man is proving to be more effective than the entire combined forces of the ICW?" Ogden mused aloud. "No offense, Will, but what the hell is happening over there?"

William shook his head irritably.

"There is little collaboration between the different forces," he sighed. "We have been sent to where we are needed, and everything has been done on the fly. It isn't working. That should change now with the Russians being involved. We are also expecting the Canadians and Indians to arrive in the coming weeks"

Ogden hummed.

"What has taken them so long?"

William shrugged.

"I suppose it has been difficult for them to bring everyone together. Both are large countries and news travels slowly in some parts."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, it's not good enough," Ogden declared. "It is people like you risking your life because they can't get their arses in gear. Thank Merlin for this Serpent chap."

William nodded his agreement.

"Thank Merlin for him," he echoed.

"Would you like to dance?" Harry asked Minerva, evidently feeling awkward at the turn the conversation was taking.

The woman nodded, and the two left the table.

"Let us hope whoever is in charge get their arses in gear," Ogden snorted before he stood and took his leave.

"Let's hope so," William murmured, watching the young man taking a turn around the dancefloor with a smiling Minerva.

(Break)

"Sorry, I just needed to get away from that," Harry explained.

"You don't need an excuse to dance with me," Minerva replied with a grin.

"Is that right?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "You know, you could have asked me."

"What makes you think I'm not just taking pity on you?" Minerva quipped, grinning.

"Ouch, that one hurt," Harry said dramatically. "After all I've done for you."

"Such as?"

"Well, when we were at Hogwarts I watched over your transformations."

Not for the first time today, Minerva found herself blushing.

She remembered those days.

Harry had been even shyer than he was now, averting his eyes when she found herself bereft of her clothes when things had not gone as intended.

"Was that such a sacrifice?" she asked. "You should be honoured you were privileged with that task."

Harry chuckled.

"You asked a sixteen-year-old boy to stand in a room with you whilst you were naked. You didn't even try to cover yourself up."

"You'd already seen everything," Minerva reminded him. "I didn't plan that to happen. You have no idea how embarrassing it was."

"You got over that quickly," Harry snorted.

Minerva nodded.

"I'm not ashamed of my body, Harry. Should I be?"

It was Harry's turn to blush, and he mumbled incoherently under his breath.

"N-no," he finally managed to stammer. "It's just that, well, you shouldn't tempt people like that."

"So, you were tempted to look more than you did?"

"Bloody hell," Harry choked. "You're too bold for your own good."

Minerva giggled but took pity on him.

"I trusted you," she assured him. "You were a gentleman."

"I was sixteen," Harry reminded her. "I didn't know where to look."

Minerva shook her head amusedly.

She remembered those days fondly, before the war had started and when she and Harry could just be teenagers for a while.

Minerva missed those days and missed seeing him every day.

As much as she loved being at Hogwarts, it wasn't the same without him.

"You could always volunteer to supervise me again," she offered.

"You've mastered your transformation now," Harry pointed out.

"True," Minerva conceded, "but you can never have enough practice. Something could go wrong at any moment."

Harry shook his head.

"You're a monster," he chuckled. "Did you have any idea how doing what I did for you would affect a teenage boy?"

"Maybe," Minerva answered coyly, "but why don't you tell me?"

Before Harry could speak, he stiffened, their dancing coming to an abrupt halt.

"What is it?" Minerva asked.

Harry frowned deeply.

"I don't know," he muttered. "I just got a gut feeling that something bad has happened."

"Something bad?" Minerva asked worriedly.

Harry nodded.

"Something isn't right."

(Break)

It was a sudden, celebratory cheer that roused Gellert from his work, the sound emanating from the enormous camp that had been set up in the grounds of the large manor one of his followers had so gracefully allowed him to use.

He knew not what could be the cause for such elation amongst his men, but he was going to find out.

Locking the door to his study behind him, Gellert headed into the grounds where a gathering of the likes he had never seen had congregated, and in the middle of it all stood Perseus Black, a smug grin plastered across his face.

"What is this?" Gellert asked when he reached the man.

"These are your new men," Perseus answered. "Our venture was quite successful."

Indeed it had been.

Men from all walks of life were looking around curiously, some with excitement, others more reserved.

Amongst them Gellert could see Africans, Asians, and even some from Central and South America.

Perseus had done well, their numbers having been close to doubled from his efforts.

"There will be no need to settle," Gellert decided. "With what we have, the ICW cannot hope to keep us from our goals. Ready yourselves. We move out as soon as possible."

The men cheered once more and Gellert pulled Perseus and Weber towards him.

"Fetch your sister," he instructed, "and Weber, find me a way into France. I want Sato freed and I believe that Cassiopeia has a debt to settle with a certain young man."

"It will be done," Weber replied obediently.

Gellert nodded gratefully, revitalised by the excitement that the arrival of the new men brought.

France would fall soon, and he would add even more allies to his cause when Sato was liberated.