Chapter 10: units

Harry could only stare after the short, but meaningful exchange between the two half gods. Chelsea looked thorned to all sides, but she still chose them over the demigods.

"You did the right thing Chelsea." Hermione tried to sound comforting, but it was clear it wasn't working.

Chelsea slowly made her way back into the girl's dorm.  Harry didn't voice it, but he was glad that annoying guy was gone. Madam Pomfrey was still paranoid from his last attack. At least he could enjoy the remaining normal days before he'd be sent into battle.

It was simple, take down the demigods and then focus on the bigger problem being Voldemort. The dark wizard had yet to make a move even with the magical government being in dissaray.

Either the dark lord waited for the wizarding world to implode. Or he was waiting for the right moment to strike.

Either way Harry wanted to be ready, and the war with the demigods could not have happened at a worst time, but it shouldn't take too long for them to win.

Days passed by and Chelsea looked worse as they went. Her eyes were practically sunken from the lack of sleep, she looked paler, and her salt and pepper hair were an even worse mess than Hermione's hair.

"I don't see why she's making a whole big deal out of this." Ron muttered at dinner.

"Have some tact Ron." Hermione snapped slapping his arm. "Chelsea has to go against her own, it probably goes against all of her deepest instincts." Harry glanced at the concerned demigoddess and saw her tiredly roll her eyes.

Harry didn't have much for an appetite. Today was the day.

They would be put in different units and spread out all around Europe, some even around the world. Harry wasn't sure where he was going, but he hoped he wouldn't be away from home for too long. At least he wasn't going to the Dursleys that's for sure.

He wondered how Miss Weasley must have been feeling. It might be nearly her whole family that was off to war now. She already lost her brother to one and now this

Harry glanced at the oblivious Ron scarfing down his food. Harry promised himself that he'd go back home safely. They all would, even if it was the last thing he did.

Harry looked up as Umbridge stood in front of all the students.

"Every students under fifth year please leave the Room." She ordered, Ginny Weasley sent her brothers a worried look before leaving the great hall.

Several Aurors stood from her left and her right in ranks. Harry recognised Tonks and surprisingly the thankfully real Mad-eye-moody.

The others he didn't recognise, but the little gasp Hermione let out wasn't really reassuring.

"These brave Aurors will take you where you need to go. Each teams were hand picked by each of them. They will be you're superiors and any dissobediance will be taken as treachery and desertment. Which is punishable by emprisonnement in Azkaban."

The horrible phrase floated silently for a few moments. Not even Malfoy dared open his mouth. Harry was beyond surprised that he was even still here.

But now that he thought about it. Lucius Malfoy did sound like a man who would think that not sending his son to war would tarnish his reputation.

"Four wizards and witches will be assigned to each Aurors." Umbridge kept going, handing each Aurors a piece if parchemin.

Harry watched as his friends and fellow D.A members were called and put into different groups. Helplessly he shared looks with both Ron and Hermione as they were put in different groups. Soon his name was called, along with Neville's Luna's and regretfully Draco.

The rich pureblood surprisingly didn't say anything to him, but Harry wouldn't put backstabbing past the spoiled brat.

One of the men he didn't recognise stood in front of them. He had white hair, but barely looked past his thirties. He was a little gaunt and his grey gaze was nearly as sharp as Mad eye.

"Do you children's know who I am?"

Malfoy was the one to speek up in a surprisingly meek voice.

"You are Balthazar Wesker, one of the most skilled Aurors in Europe if not the world. My father spoke highly of you."

"You thought he could pull you out of conscription didn't you?" Cruelly chuckled the man.

"It is high time you three pureblood honor your family names properly." His eyes lingered on Harry. " You may be a half-blood, but you survived the Triwizard tournament. I better see that skill to good use."

"With all due respect sir." Began Malfoy. "Why choose a mediocre Wizard like Longbottom?" He wondered sending a distainful glance at Neville.

"My choices as much as my orders are not to be questioned. Understood." Coldly replied the Auror.

"Yes sir." Malfoy said looking at the ground.

Harry couldn't believe, but there it was.

Someone finally got Malfoy to not be a git. At least for now.

"Now first we will take this portkey and then we will recieve our first mission."

Balthazar pulled out a letter from his overcoat and held it up. Each student grabbed an edge of the paper before the familiar unpleasent feeling of being transported via portkey. Harry felt like he was being twisted and shoved into a tiny space before finding himself in an unfamiliar street.

He shook his head trying to shake off his dizziness. Neville looked green and Malfoy tried to keep his composure, but nearly stumbled and fell on his face, if it wasn't for the older wizard catching him by the back of his shirt. While Luna looked completly unafected.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as Balthazar read the letter, that suddenly went up in purple flames. "We are in Italy mister Potter." Our mission objective isn't too far away. Reconnaissance is required before getting to the act, so we'll get a room in a nearby hotel."

"And what is the mission?" Harry asked somewhat filled with dread. The wizard glanced at the young man, annoyed with the questions.

"Assassination."