Guns and wands,

Britain's Darkest Hour

Chapter 1

Britain's Darkest Hour

It was nearing midnight and Winston Churchill, Britain’s recently elected Prime Minister, sat in his office. In the month since he had assumed the title of Prime Minister, the war against Nazi Germany had gone from bad to worse. Paris had been declared an open city, and han fallen to the Wehrmacht. There would be no 'Miracle of the Marne' this time, as there had been during the Great War. Now it was only a matter of time before France fell, and when, not if, it happened, England would stand alone against Hitler.

There had been telegrams from Germany, signaling for Britain to come to terms since she could no longer possibly carry on the fight. Churchill had already made up his mind on the question the moment the war began, there would be no negotiation with Hitler or the Nazis; Britain would fight to the end. Even if England had accepted peace, that didn't mean that Hitler would keep his word.

'There shall be no further territorial demands, Chruchill remembered, none too fondly.

He let out a bitter laugh, appeasement had only whetted Hitler's appetite, and once he started taking, he only wanted more.

No, Churchill was convinced that Hitler wanted England razed to the ground. Already, he had heard reports that the Luftwaffe had moved to airbases in Northern France; to achieve just that. And if Germany landed troops in Britain, well, then he'd have to resort to increasingly desperate measures.

The next moment, the window burst open, and in fluttered a sheet of paper that landed in Churchill’s hands. The parchment was warm in Churchill's grasp, and was written in sloppy handwriting.

The message was straight-forward and blunt. “To the Prime Minister of Muggles, I shall meet you in your office. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.”

Churchill read it again and again with a mixture of puzzlement. Muggles? Was this some type of cryptic Nazi Propaganda? Had the Americans sent this in some type of strange code? Who was this Dumbledore? He'd never heard of him before, nor could he place the country to which he might of belonged to. Whoever this was, Churchill did know this message was clearly intended for him, and him alone. Nonetheless, he reminded himself that he would have to raise the standards of security again.

The next moment, bright green flames burst from the marble fireplace. Churchill watched in frozen, fearful, fascination, as a man appeared from the flames and spun into focus. He was tall and slim, and sported a long, brown beard that somehow reminded Churchill of a younger Merlin. The impression was only added by the long, colorful robes the man wore.

Churchill watched suspiciously as the man walked forward. He was tempted to reach for the Webley revolver he had in his drawer, yet refrained from doing so. If this man had gotten past all the security, what bloody chance did he have?

However, the man standing before him didn't appear as if he were out to kill him, or so Churchill hoped. He relaxed. Only slightly.

“Ah, good morning Mr. Churchill,” the man said. He did sound friendly enough.

Churchill nearly fell off his chair, before he managed to sputter out, “W-who are you? I don't believe I've ever met you before.”

“My name is Albus Dumbledore," he said patiently, "I come as an envoy upon the request of the Ministry of Magic."

"Magic?" stammered Churchill, "Did you say magic?"

"That is correct Mr. Churchill, for hundreds of years the magic community has lived hidden among Britain, and we wizards have made efforts to keep out of contact from non-magical folk, or what we call muggles. Yet as both of our governments face dire times, I believe the time has come that we have direct contact and cooperation between our two governments.”

Churchill was far too shocked to utter a response. Magicians? Living within England itself? Preposterous!! Had Dumbledore met with Mr. Chamberlain also? If he had, old Neville hadn’t told Churchill anything about it. However, this Dumbledore had one thing that made sense to Churchill, with the Nazis rampaging across Europe, these were dire times indeed.

“S-so that means, all your folk can use sorcery, and other sorts of bloody witchcraft?” said Churchill, repeating the same question again, to make sure he simply wasn't going utterly mad.

Instead of responding, Dumbledore pulled a wand and flicked it at the small statue of the Duke of Wellington that Churchilll had at his desk. There was a small flash, Churchill let out a gasp as the statue came to life. The miniature Wellington rose up on his horse and raised his sword.

"For the glory of his Majesty!!" uttered the statue of Wellington, "Forward men!!"

Dumbledore flicked his wand again. The statue returned to its previous pose.

Churchill rubbed his eyes, wondering if they had been deceiving him, but he knew in his gut that what he had just seen was real.

“My god,” said Churchill, feeling fear mixed with awe, “I’d wager if several of you wizards were to go into the fight, the war would be over by next Sunday.” He knew that wouldn’t be the case, because if they could have, Dumbledore and his wizarding friends would have kicked Hitler’s bucket the moment he declared war.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Churchill, I must regrettably inform you that we face an enemy every bit as dangerous and are in as dire straits as you are,” said Dumbledore sadly.

“So…what this means is, the German wizards, whoever they are, also march under Hitler’s banner?” said Churchill. He had a nasty vision of hordes of SS men riding broomsticks and descending into London. And to think the bloody Luftwaffe was bad enough by itself.

“Not exactly, as you might have probably guessed already, the respective muggle and wizarding ministries have separate governments. The Dark wizard Grindelwald, has been acting in concert with Hitler ever since the end of the previous muggle conflict,” said Dumbledore.

Churchill paled. With the Wehrmacht steamrolling Poland, Scandanavia and now France, while at the same time the German wizards had launched the equivalent of a ‘magic’ blitzkrieg against those same afflicted nations, no wonder the war had been going so badly.

“Very well Mr. Dumbledore, tell the Ministry of Magic, whoever he is, that my government will not surrender to the Nazis, whether they are normal or use sorcery, under any circumstance. If the cooperation between our two governments must remain secret, I shall have only a select few to maintain contact to speak with your representatives. Whether or not Parliament gets wind of our involvement will remain to be seen, but rest assured I shall do everything within my power to ensure that Britain does not fall to invasion.”

Dumbledore took a deep breath, “There is one thing we are desperately in short supply of, we need muggle wands. The German wizards have been taking to using them with deadly effect, and without them our Aurors have been at a disadvantage.”

At first, what Dumbledore meant escaped Churchill.

“You mean rifles, machineguns and other small arms?” he said.

“Yes, that’s correct.” replied Dumbledore.

“If that is what you require, I shall provide them. Yet with magic is it truly necessary you require them, it is not as if we non-magical chaps have an oversupply at the moment!” said Churchill.

“The trouble is, the other side can use magic too,” said Dumbledore gravely. It didn’t take a genius to understand that one who used magic and firearms was deadlier than one who used only magic.

“I shall do what I can for you then,” said Churchill, nodding.

He shook Dumbledore’s hand. Dumbledore gravely walked toward the fireplace, and promptly vanished.