Chapter Eight: It Begins

“I spoke of most disastrous chances,

Of moving accidents by flood and field;

Of hair-breadth ‘scapes’ the imminent deadly breach.”

-William Shakespeare

Othello

Over the next three weeks Major Thomas worked them hard; he didn’t have the usual two or three months given to recruits, so he had to push them harder and faster than usual. He also sat them down to teach tem infantry and small unit tactics. Harry and his friends proved to be natural leaders and natural soldiers. To answer Colin’s question weeks earlier, they arraigned the chain of command by those who had distinguished themselves thus far. After Harry and his friends there came Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Pdma Patil, Colin Creevy, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Terry Boot, Susan Bones, Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Anthony Goldstein, and Zacharias Smith. The D.A accepted the decision without comment, which surprised him because he expected Padma, who had always struck her as a bit arrogant, at least until a rather embarrassing incident in training on Day Two. Major Thomas was having them rum laps around the obstacle course when Padma tripped and fell on one of the tires. When the rest were done, Major Thomas told her to run the rack again. Discipline hadn’t quite set in yet so Padma laughed derisively and said, “I am not doing that again, it’s not safe.”

Thomas laughed sarcastically and shouted, “Get your ass down there, now!”

This shocked her so much that she ran the course again, and didn’t trip or fall of the rope ladder once. Everyone just stared at her with this mixture of shock and appreciation on their faces.

Day Two was also the day the first batch of Army uniforms had arrived. Mrs. Finch-Fletchley had arranged it, so when the time came, she and a group of members would go and pick up the uniforms. The excuse she had given her company was that they were costumes for a play, and that these were prototype costumes, to see if the director liked them. All in all, it was a good cover, Harry decided.

“I have a surprise for you all,” she said, when she and the group returned.

“What?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“You’ll see,” was all Mary said. Curious, Harry opened the box to see the blue coat and pants with a red stripe running up the left leg with red trapbars on the coat cuffs. Under that, however, was a white uniform with a single gold stripe on the left leg and gold trapbars on the cuffs.

“Their beautiful Mrs. Finch-Fletchley,” Parvati said admiringly, “thank you.”

“Hey,” she said in that way mothers have of embarrassing teenagers, “anything for my future daughter-in-law.” Justin, amazingly enough, didn’t seem to notice.

“That she is,” Justin said, happily, putting her arm around her and kissing her full on the lips. Their behavior reminded them of Bill and Fleur, who were still staying there while the rest of the Order had left yesterday on official business. Harry just hoped that the two lovers would live long enough to have a wedding. As this point, Fred and George decided to come downstairs.

“Excuse me, Harry,” Fred said. “Can we talk to you?”

“Yeah,” George said. “In private.”

“Sure guys,” Harry said. And they walked into the kitchen and closed the door.

“We want your word,” Fred said.

“Your word, mind you,” George said.

“That you’ll bring our sister home to us,” Fred said. “Alive and unhurt.”

“Absolutely,” Harry said without hesitation. He loved Ginny, and would do anything to make sure she survived. “I can’t make any guarantees about unhurt, but I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all we need to know,” Fred said. And, without another word, they left. As they left, Ginny watched them leave, and as if she read their minds she knew what they had asked of them. As evidenced by the fact that she walked in and asked, “Can I talk to you in private, Harry?”

He saw Hermione, Neville, and Luna beam but Ron glower. She and Harry walked into the kitchen and closed the door once more.

“Promise me, Harry, right here, right now, that you won’t hold me back.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, though he was sure he knew what she meant.

“I want your word that when it comes down to it, if I’m the best job, you’ll send me, even if it leads to my death.” Ginny explained adamantly.

“But I promised-.” Harry began, but Ginny cut him off.

“Their family, Harry,” Ginny said. “They have a knack for ignoring reality, and so do you. I want your word, right here, right now, that you’ll use me as circumstances dictate.”

He considered it for a few long moments. He loved this woman, even if she didn’t love him, and here she was asking him, begging him, to risk her life. Well, this is Ginny’s choice.

“All right, sweetheart,” Harry said, then he remembered that they were no longer together.

The words brought tears to her eyes and she saluted, her hand barely steady; once Harry returned her salute she ran out the door, got her uniform and rushed to go change. As he saw this, Harry knew he had caused Ginny a lot of pain.

All this aside, their training transformed them. From a surprisingly talented bunch of teenagers they became a well-disciplined unit. They operated as a team, they wore their uniforms correctly, saluted correctly, could follow complex orders, and, all in all, at least to Harry, were a force to be reckoned with. An interesting side effect was that everyone referred to him as Captain as if he was training the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

As for the civilians, they weren’t nearly as big a problem as Ginny thought they’d be. There were some incidents, mostly assault and petty theft, but the culprits were caught, by Ginny. She had proved to be a quite capable soldier, but she now proved herself to be wonderful investigator. If the D.A. goes back to Hogwarts next year, Harry thought, and we begin large-scale recruiting, that’s the role I’ll use her in. She’ll be safe and still have a pivotal role in the war effort. Well, safer, Harry thought. He knew that that life was no picnic.

Training slowed down after Week Two, because the wedding was as week away and they needed to rehearse. Ginny was already tapped to be a bridesmaid, even though she didn’t want to be. As she put it, “I look crappy in that pink dress they want me to wear. I need the training, and besides I look way better in my dress uniform, anyway.”

Harry had to agree, she looked beautiful. Others made lame jokes on her hair, mostly variations on Hermione’s, “you look like a burning Greco-Roman column,” joke. To Harry she was a “radiant, burning pillar of light and strength,” though, for obvious reasons, he didn’t tell her then.

Nevertheless, the decision was made, she was as bridesmaid. However, Harry fixed it so she could walk down to aisle holding the bride’s dress in full dress uniform. She seemed, happier, after that.

The wedding, however, was being held at the Delacour house near Marseilles, France, so in Week Three everyone packed up their bags and tents and lined up in the groups they arrived in at the paddock to take Portkeys to the Delacour home in France. The D.A. went on ahead as a group to the home first to recon the area, the logic being as the home was abandoned for a couple weeks, Death Eaters may have set up shop in the area.

Harry and the D.A. Portkeyed into the area to see a large three-story mansion with pristine white walls, a red roof, and surrounded by a pristine green field. There was even a good sized wood surrounding it. The house, they saw was wide and spacious, with a large sitting room, numerous bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens on both the first and second levels, and dining rooms on all three. They were impressed, they had no idea the Delacours were so rich; they hadn’t exactly paraded it around. However there were no Death Eaters so Harry sent Ron by Portkey back to the Burrow to tell them it was safe. Five minutes later, everyone saluted arriving, the French first, followed by the British, Americans, Canadians, and finally the Australians and New Zealanders. They spent the day setting up tents and tables and transferring all the supplies from the British to the Delacour’s Chateau, as they called it despite the lack of a vineyard.

Over the next week, they rehearsed for the wedding. Invitations were automatic for everyone at the reunion except the D.A., whose task it was to guard the wedding. The only exceptions were Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny; Ginny because she was a bridesmaid, Harry, Ron, and Hermione because they were invited initially. All this meant that during the festivities, Neville would be.

Finally, the big day, June 21st, 1997 had arrived. The wedding was being held at the Chateau, so the Delacours decked it out, really outdoing themselves. The trees were decked in lights, the huge tables were covered in white satin, and there were rows and rows of seats in front of a beautiful bridal arch. The Catholic and Anglican priests, who would be conducting a joint ceremony, sat off to the side nervously, like most Muggles when they’re around large groups of Wizards. They would preside over the wedding, then they’d wipe their memories, make up an excuse, and send them home. Next to him was an organ, manned by one of the relatives, standing by to play the Wedding March.

“So, ‘Arry, how are you doing?” A voice from behind Harry said. Harry, had been watching this from the back door, spun around to view Hagrid staring at him.

“Professor Hagrid,” Harry said, his face breaking out in a wide smile at the sight of his burly friend. “When did you arrive here?”

“We came by Portkey a minute ago,” Hagrid said. “Minerva, Remus, Nymphadora, Kingsley, Mad-Eye, and Olympe arrived with me.”

It took Harry a moment to attach family names to Professor McGonagall and Madam Maxime, having not heard their personal names very often, but he did and said, “They’re all here too?”

“Yep,” Hagrid said. “All of them. So how are you? What’s with the white clothes?”

Ah, Harry thought, no one thought to explain about Dumbledore’s Army.

“Sit down, Professor, this may take awhile,” Harry said, they bore sat down and Harry launched into his explanation.

When he was done, Hagrid said sighing. “I really don’t want you doing this, ‘Arry, but you’ve made your choice.” A moment later, he said, with forced cheer, “Nice dress clothes though.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. Than a gong rang and as everyone had been told, that was the signal for everyone to take their seats and gaze reverently at the bride and groom. Everyone filled in to the seats. Hagrid took up two seats by himself (seats that could barely support his weight) and so did Madame Maxime. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the Order members sat immediately behind them on the groom side about four rows from the front. As Bill, his best man, a blonde man whom Harry had never met, and Mr. Weasley watched as Edouard Delacour marches his daughter, resplendent in her wedding dress, Harry had eyes only for the brave and beautiful young woman in her white dress uniform. Ginny really did look beautiful in uniform; both uniforms. Gabrielle Delacour, the second bridesmaid, stared with something close to awe at Ginny in uniform, and Harry had a feeling she’d sign up if Harry was insane enough to let her.

The wedding went well. The priests’ memories were wiped as per SOP for Wizarding weddings. At the reception, everybody ate well and Harry and Ginny even danced together, albeit it was rushed and incredibly pained. Now, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the Delacours sitting room, to full to move, while Ginny relieved Neville and took personal command of the three D.A. combat patrols.

Luna and Neville each commanded five-man squads while Ginny commanded a six-man squad and the entire mission at the moment, as they stayed within weapons range of each other, prepared to support each other if necessary.

All of a sudden, out of the blue, screams ripped the air. It was the screams of dying people who never even had a chance to defend themselves.

What the hell, Harry thought. Thinking quickly he opened his comm-mirror.

“Ginny,” Harry said frantically. “What’s going on out there?”

“Death Eaters just Apparated in,” Ginny said. “Lots of Death Eaters.”

Harry was briefly tempted to order Ginny back to the house. But he made her a promise, and as much as it pained him, he kept his promises.

“Ginny,” Harry said. “Get out there and keep them off the civilians. We’ll gather the Order and go out to support you.”

“Acknowledged,” Ginny said, closing the channel.

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran, Harry knew the day he’d dreamed had come. Lord Voldemort’s forces had come, and whatever they did, whomever they killed, their aim was one person: Ginevra Molly Weasley.