Battle Lines

Chapter Two: Most News is Bad News.

14 Mar 03: Hogwarts AFB.

1430 hours.

Cho looked around the amphitheatre, dammit, no one here would be in any condition to fight for awhile. There were fliers with burns where a spell had grazed them, others with limbs in casts or slings, mementoes of midair collisions during their last mission. Two of her pilots were in the infirmary after slightly too vigorous meetings with the ground; the last two hadn't come home at all, still...

'Ok people as you already know at sixteen forty-two hours, yesterday, operation "Blue Streak" was interrupted by our good friend He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...'

She waited for a cynical remark from the rest of the squadron, nothing, not even from Fred Weasley, whose brother was currently one of those in the infirmary.

'..."Blue Streak" was put down as a victory. Five of the transports made it out. The sixth was destroyed on the ground before it could lift; fortunately it was only carrying equipment.'

She looked around the room again, nothing, still the same blank faces. 'Overall Seeker Squadron was lucky. We only suffered two losses and two with major injuries. Chaser and Beater Squadrons suffered almost forty percent losses between them with another thirty percent with major injuries. Apparently, while we were on intercept, a larger group of Death Eaters flew terrain following and assaulted Beauxbatons itself. They inflicted heavy damage and losses before the AAA could be manned and they withdrew. I know that no one here feels like doing much but, until Chaser and Beater Squadrons can find new recruits we are still on active duty.'

Then the comments came, just one, most just nodded, but John Klivias raised a hand.

'With all due respect Ma'am, we are in no condition to be on active duty, we've got, what four? Five? Flight ready pilots, we'd just get wasted during our next engagement.'

'I'm as aware of that as you are,' Cho replied, 'But the Union has just lost around twenty percent of it's air capability, and thirty percent of it's fighters, they need everyone they can get and have therefore ordered us back on.'

'The Wizarding Union needs its collective heads examined if you ask me.'

Cho ignored that last remark. 'Anyway, as of today we will be forming a temporary squadron with the survivors from Chaser and Beater, which gives us a grand total of nine flight ready pilots, not including myself. We will be flying as Red Squadron for now. All I can really advise you to do now is get some sleep; dismissed.'

Flight Lieutenant Fred Weasley let the rest of the pilots flow around him as he walked toward the door of the briefing theatre. Forty percent squadron losses, George in hospital, Angelina, his wingman, he corrected himself, his ex-wingman now just a cloud of hydrogen atoms. Katie Bell fell into step beside him, without saying a word their steps carried them in the direction of DownTime, the bar that had taken up residence in a disused store room. DownTime's proprietor was an obvious Star Wars fan. The place was covered in memorabilia, from the model X-wings on the ceiling to the Bobba Fett helmet taking pride of place in the centre of the room.

The pilots made their way to a dimly lit alcove at the back of the room; John and a few others from the squadron soon joined them. The Muggle waitress took their orders and brought them their drinks.

Katie finally broke the silence. 'Would someone tell me what just happened in the last twenty-four hours, I don't seem to remember much of it.'

No one said anything.

'I believe,' said John flatly, 'that we got our collective arses pasted.'

'Yeah,' said Katie, 'I reckon that just about sums it up.'

Again, silence.

Fred rose. 'I think I'll take the Ma'am's advice and get some sleep.'

He headed for the door, but as soon as he was out of sight he didn't go toward his accommodation, down in the bowels of the complex but rather up, through the security check point, up one of the lifts and through the anti-magic shielding to the castle above. Eventually his footsteps took him to the top of the astronomy tower. Look on the bright side, Filch couldn't bust him anymore. He leaned on the parapet and looked out over the lake. Far below him, from inside the cliff face came the heavy drone of the "Chimera" gunships taking off, probably for a targeting exercise out at the pig trough, a valley not far from Hogwarts. The noise gradually faded as they flew away from Hogwarts. With them he faded into thought, Angelina, Seeker Squadron, the lost transport and what the hell had happened to his life.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted him out of his reverie. He spun round, hand already dropping toward his wand.

'Take it easy lieutenant.'

'Jesus H Christ Ma'am, you scared the daylights out of me.'

'You can dispense with the "Ma'am",' said Cho smiling easily, 'no décor see?'

She tapped her shoulders where her rank completely failed to be.

'Couldn't sleep?' said Fred easing up a bit.

'No. You?'

'Didn't even bother, last I saw John was using the old standby for insomnia,' said Fred.

Cho raised her eyebrows questioningly.

'Alcohol...' he said flatly, '...and stairs if he's unlucky.'

'Anyway,' said Cho, more business like now, 'I came to tell you that George was awake, he ate something then they gave him some drug which knocked him straight back out again, you'll be able to see him in the morning.'

With that she tuned around and started back toward the hatch in the roof, again she stopped and turned around.

'Now I really advise you to get some sleep, or I'll make you do it John's way, without the alcohol but with the stairs.'

With that she slid out of sight. Only when she had gone did Fred finally give in and head for his quarters.

* * *

The next few days slid by slowly, George was conscious, but so groggy he may as well have been unconscious anyway. A few of the pilots made a trip down to Diagon Alley, but when excitement happened it happened in a big way.

Fred, John and Katie were at Downtime when the announcement came over the loud speakers.

'This is Albus Dumbledore.' came the quiet voice, 'All personnel, students and staff are to assemble in the Great Hall immediately.'

Downtime began to empty as everyone made their way upwards toward the great hall.

Katie was the first to talk. 'I wonder what it's all about?'

No reply, just a general shrugging of shoulders.

By the time everyone was assembled the hall was at capacity.

John leaned across to Fred. 'That's not Dumbledore up there, that's Group Captain Madden. Last time they called something like this was; oh bugger.'

Group Captain Madden, a Muggle in his early fifties with greying hair around his temples stepped up to the podium.

'Ladies, Gentlemen, Students.' he said gravely, 'We have lost Beauxbatons.'

He continued, 'At twenty-one thirty hours last night, Voldemort launched an attack of massive proportions. Beauxbatons was completely over run by twenty-one forty-five hours, the fight was all one-way traffic. On the French mainland we are in full retreat with some units still fighting a rear guard action. Very little of what happened is known. Most of our telemetry is of poor quality and intelligence is having a hard time trying to work it out. Those who can are fleeing; they should reach the coast by ten hundred hours tomorrow. As such, all airborne units are to report to the main briefing room at oh six ten hours tomorrow. You receive further briefing then. See you then; that is all.'

Everyone started to move toward the doors most either deep in thought or talking quietly.

Fred and co. were about to head for the door when they were interrupted by Cho's voice.

'All active Seeker, Beater and Chaser Squadron pilots I want to see you now.'

'Aha,' said Katie, 'I believe we have a pilot roster.'

A small group of six pilots was gathered around Cho when the other three walked up. Fred did a count, ten pilots all up, two short of a full squadron, not bad, but not good either. About half were Seeker Squadron pilots, the rest seemed evenly split between Beater and Chaser Squadrons.

'Ok,' said Cho, 'lets keep this short and informal. You should already have been briefed on what's happening by your Squadron Commanders...'

Cho didn't add what everyone was thinking; those of you who still have squadron commanders.

'...on what is happening. Since we don't make up a full squadron, Three Flight will be flying short two. They will be joined by two new pilots later. When you go back to your old squadrons those two will join Seeker Squadron. So, unit roster. Ok, in One Flight; I'll be flying as Lead and Natalie Boone will be my wing as Red Two.'

A young female pilot with dark brown hair and sporting a Beater Squadron patch gave a smile, obviously she didn't know that Cho usually gave the place of Two to a pilot she thought was still a bit green and in need of extra instruction.

'John Klivias will be in his usual place as Red Three with Greg Bull Red Four.'

Both pilots nodded without saying a word.

'Two Flight will be headed by Joseph Farden with Samantha Rheinburg his wing, Reds Five and Six respectively.'

A slightly wider than usual man and a tall blond female, both wearing Chaser Squadron patches nodded their consent.

'Mike Phannan and Aaron Reilly,' said Cho, 'Seven and Eight. I've talked to your commander in Beater Squadron and Lee seems to believe that I should keep all the cynicism in one place so I can dispense with it easily.'

Mike and Aaron looked at each other, Mike spoke up. 'Oh how nice it is to have an understanding commander. Know where I can get one?'

Cho sighed and turned to Fred. 'Ha ha. Looks like you and George have competition in the "Pilots-most-likely-to-get-thrown-out-off-a-cliff-by-their-own-commander" stakes.'

'Oh don't worry Ma'am, me an' George will think of something.'

'Finally,' Cho said, 'appearing as an upstart jerk of a 2IC, in his usual position as head of Three Flight and Red Nine, Fred Weasley.'

'Oh, that hurt Ma'am.'

'Good.' Cho then turned to Katie. 'Sorry to do this to you, but you'll be his wing for the moment as Red Ten.'

Katie Bell nodded. 'Don't worry Ma'am. If he becomes too much trouble I'll shoot him.'

Cho went back to being serious. 'Ok, I advise you spend a bit of time getting to know each other at DownTime, but no alcohol, alright? Mission tomorrow, eight hours, bottle to throttle. Oh and one more thing, we need a name for the new squadron, the person to come up with one I like gets, well, we'll think of something.'

There was a murmur from the assembled pilots. Seeing that their CO had finished speaking, the pilots started to disperse. John headed off with his new wingman and the rest of the pilots from Chaser Squadron, probably to see if he could get them to buy him a drink, no matter what Cho had said. Fred and Katie made their way over to where Mike and Aaron were talking with their fellow Beater, Natalie.

Fred put on his best oxford accent and bowed low. 'Good evening lady and gentlemen. Allow us to introduce ourselves; I am Flight Lieutenant Fred Weasley and the lovely young lady in Flying Officer Katie Bell. As you can see we are very cultured here in Red Squadron and you'll have to learn how to do it. Your education may start by buying us a drink at Downtime

Mike grinned. 'Lady, gentleman, I would bend down except it isn't as easy with a prosthetic leg, bowing is one of the few things I can't do with it. Let me introduce us. I am Flight Lieutenant Mike Phannan, broomstick pilot extraordinaire, thought I am better known for my ravishing looks.'

'My god,' said Katie, under her breath, 'He's even more obnoxious than you Fred.'

'The one on my left is my reprobate wingman Flying Officer Aaron Reilly and the little brunette...' Mike paused to put extra emphasis on the 't', '...is Pilot Officer Natalie Boone, all from Beater Squadron where we know how to be cultured but just don't bother, oh, and deserve a drink even more than you do.'

'Can't argue with that.' laughed Fred, then looked thoughtful. 'Well, I could, I just can't be bothered, and anyway, I'm fresh out of comebacks.'

'Good your shout.'

Fred grinned again. 'Not today people, you heard the Ma'am, nothing alcoholic.'

Aaron looked crestfallen. 'Not even a butter beer?'

'Look,' said Katie, 'I personally wouldn't touch anything Fred offers you, just a word of warning.'

'Ah, now I remember, Lieutenant Weasley told us about those, we bought some stuff off'f him.' said Phannan. 'Must admit, it was funny watching Jordan try to deliver the briefing, kind of hard to talk with a beak. I think we earned around a month of kitchen duty after that.'

Fred looked startled. 'How'd Ron get hold of those, I'm sure we didn't let him know where we kept them.'

'Look, It's Harry, Ron and Hermione we're talking about here.' said Katie. 'What haven't they found?'

'Well there was that thing in Ron's gear locker.'

'Yeah, but that had "Weasley Wizard Wheezes" stamped on the bottom.'

'And?'

Katie gave up. 'Look, I'll buy you lot a couple of butter beers, that way you don't have to worry about what Fred's slipped into them. You can have some of the heavier stuff when we get back.'

With that they made their way toward DownTime.

* * *

'So, anyway...' Mike was speaking. '...he goes right and I start to go left except there's this bloody tree in the way; WHAMO! Next thing I know I'm in a hospital bed with bruises all over me and my leg missing.'

Katie giggled, then looked puzzled. 'Couldn't they just make a replacement with magic?'

'Well that's the thing see,' said Phannan, 'me and magical cures don't mix. They tried with magic; all that ended up happening was that I lost another three inches of leg. So they got some Muggle doctors to make me this prosthetic, it's almost as good as the real thing.'

Natalie opened her mouth to say something then shut it again, this time it was her turn to look puzzled. 'Why's Downtime so quiet?'

'Dunno, maybe Ma'am's called everyone away again.'

But when they walked in everyone was clustered around a TV near the back of the bar. On the screen was a picture of a woman, in full combat uniform crouched down behind a table. The picture was green and grainy, showing that it was shot through a night vision lens; the woman was holding a microphone to her mouth with the logo of the BBC world service on it.

In the background could be heard sporadic gunfire and the snap hiss of spells being released.

The woman was speaking. '...I am here with the legendary Captain Harry Potter and his unit of marines in Paris. For the last few hours Captain Potter's recon unit has been fighting a valiant rear-guard action against terrible odds, buying time as thousands of civilians flee in front of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's forces. I cannot give you our exact position but to say we are pinned down and outgunned. Just in front of us are Captain Potter and his second in command Lieutenant Granger.'

She stopped speaking while the camera cautiously raised itself over the table. In front of it was another table with two marines also in full body armour behind it, FN P-90 sub-machine guns pressed to their shoulders. One had blood running from his shoulder. As they watched he brought his gun up, laser sight cutting through the smoke and let off another burst.

The other was speaking rapidly into her helmet mike; her words could just be made out.

'Demolitions come in, Demolitions! This is Braniac! Jesus Ron where are you! Look we're kind of pinned down here and could really use a distraction...' She paused hand pressed to her temple, listening. '...Ok, blow it on my mark!'

The snap hiss of another Death Eater spell was followed by the sound of an explosion and debris rained down on the cameraman. The camera retreated to its original position.

The woman started to speak again, 'Union forces have already suffered heavy losses...'

There was a yell from off camera. 'You Motherf... [Explosion] ...I'm gonna f... [Machine gun fire] ...ing kill you!'

The reporter looked back to the camera. '...things are going from bad to worse for the hard pressed marines, I don't know how much longer we can hold out. This is Hanna Abbott reporting from Paris for the BBC World Service.'

The screen faded back to the desk, 'On other fronts...'

People started to move back toward their tables, a few stayed to watch the rest of the news broadcast.

Fred and his little troupe made their way to an alcove set into the wall.

'There's a reason I'm not a line animal, and that's it,' said Aaron, nodding in the direction of the TV.

'Oh, marines aren't too bad.' said Katie, 'At least they get to fly as well.'

'Yeah,' said Fred, 'but if anyone can get themselves out of trouble, Harry can.'

'Uh huh,' said Katie poker faced, 'You forgot to mention that if anyone can get themselves into trouble, Harry can.'

'Cynic.'

The waitress walked up to them to take their orders.

'I'll have a...' Mike stopped under Natalie's withering glare, he slumped. 'I'll have a fruit juice.'

The waitress caught Natalie's eye. 'What sort of fruit juice?'

'A fruit juice,' retorted Mike, icily.

Eventually they all ordered drinks, '...And some peanuts...' as Fred had added. Aaron was still rubbing his shins where he'd been kicked; he wasn't too sure who by, when used correctly GP boots hurt.

Fred looked across the room to where John was talking to the Chaser Squadron pilots. As Fred watched John said something and got up from the table. He made his way over to where the rest of Red Squadron was sitting.

'Honestly,' he said with and exasperated sigh, 'they take the whole being a pilot and in the military thing way the seriously. They're sitting there calling each other "Sir" and "Pilot Officer", not to mention that it's only nine o'clock and they're going to bed, and they wouldn't buy me anything even remotely alcoholic."

'There's a reason we don't buy you alcohol,' said Katie.

'Shut up.'

'But you call me "Sir",' said Fred.

'Well, yeah, but I also call you "Fred", or "I'm gonna shoot you."'

'True, but I really prefer "Oh great one", or, "Oh envy of all Britain", or even...'

Natalie interrupted Fred. 'Oh shut up!'

'Give him a break.' said Katie. 'This is pretty in touch with reality for him.'

'What is this? Gang up on Fred Weasley day or something?'

'Finish your drink and stop complaining Fred.'

'That's it.' said Fred, draining his glass. 'I'm going to bed.'

'You joining Chaser Squadron than?'