A/N: This is just something that's been gathering cyber-dust for a while. I read it, brushed it up a little, and…was rather disappointed with it. But I'm posting it anyways, because it may spark an idea for someone else. I wish that person luck.

To everyone who reads: Please enjoy! And then, you know, review and toss in your two cents. Good, bad, or confused, I would like to know. And please forgive any inaccuracies.

Oh! And a note of warning: I lack beta. Experienced volunteers welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. I'm not making a profit from this, etc., etc.

Warnings: Severe out-of-character-ness with very nearly everyone. I'm not writing this to try and stay in cannon. I'm writing it because I suddenly wanted a military!Harry, and couldn't find a reasonably good fic that I hadn't already read to death and didn't smack of teenage emo-angst.

Also, fighting, blood, death, and carnage. It wartime, and that's never a pretty sight. And there's cursing, too. Oh yes, and there will be slash. Hot man luvin'. You have been warned.

Summary: The Second Voldemort War irrevocably begins at the end of Harry's summer vacation, just as he arrives at King's Cross for his seventh and final year. And not even the Ministry can play dumb when Voldemort's first and most devastating blow reduces Platform 9 ¾ to little more than rubble and blood and chaos. The Death Eater attack claimed hundreds in the span of an hour, and it was only the beginning.

With attacks coming by the hour, the Wizarding World quickly falls into hellish disorder and relentless battle. The only safe haven is Hogwarts, which had withstood Voldemort's first string of attacks and now served as the Order's stronghold.

Among the students and survivors of the King's Massacre, it was decided that the best chance at living would be the safe-haven of Hogwarts. And who better to lead them through the dark than the Wizarding World's own shining star: Harry Potter. Even if he was only a half-trained boy of barely-seventeen. He was the Chosen One, fated to defeat Voldemort. He was a Champion. A Hero.

And Heroes never lost, no matter the cost.

Beneath the Mask of a Hero

Chapter 1

Three months.

It wasn't really that long, once you sat down and thought about it. Once you were back in civilization, with its' rules and order and safety. It really shouldn't be long enough to change a handful of stupid kids into a tense, fierce killing unit.

But three months in civilization and three months out there were two very different worlds, Harry thought as he made his way silently down another hall of Hogwarts. Out there, in the chaos and violence of Voldemort's war, every day was a struggle to survive. To stay one step ahead of the Death Eater dogs that raced after them, snapping at their heels. Constantly strung tight with fear and the need to stay alert, three months seemed to last for years. Until school was just a memory. Until the easy life of a student, or child, was almost a myth to be shared fondly amongst them to ease the suffocating darkness of the night.

Harry and his team had been forced to learn new and terrible things quickly, with no room for error sometimes. They had to rely on each other completely, with perfect trust that the other person would be where they needed to be. They couldn't afford secrets or jealousy or mistrust, not with death just a thought behind them.

The result of which…

Harry stepped almost silently back into the dining hall that had been transfigured to hold beds for his little army. He smiled faintly, not sure whether to be amused or proud when he saw that someone had rearranged the beds from their neat lines along the walls. Now, two beds sat side-by-side at each cardinal direction: North, South, East, and West. Spread out far enough to hold the rest of the beds inside the circle it created.

Hermione and Ron had taken the South beds, closest to the doorway, and generally thought of as the 'front line'. Ginny and Neville took the North, overlooking the rest of the beds. Seamus and Dean had the East beds, and Justin was on the West bed, the bed beside him invitingly empty. Within the circle, the others rested, knowing they were safe.

A soft rustling sound drew Harry's attention as he turned to leave again, and he glanced back to see Neville tossing slightly in his sleep, eyebrows pulled down into a scowl. Beside him Ginny slept on, unaffected by her partner's nightmare. More like used to it, Harry thought dryly. Neville had always been the one most prone to nightmares, even after an exhausting day.

Neville gasped, jerking up in his bed sharply. "W-Ward," he called out softly, still half asleep with his voice shaking almost as badly as he was.

"Clear," Harry said gently.

The panicked look faded from Neville's half-opened eyes, and the boy fell back onto the bed, asleep again. Harry couldn't help the half-smile as he watched over his group of witches and wizards. Evidently, some training stuck with people, even if they were safely back in civilization.

Harry turned back to the doorway at the soft sound of footsteps in the hall, and saw the Headmaster and Snape approach. Stepping out to meet them, he let the doors slide silently shut.

"Headmaster, Professor Snape," Harry greeted them with a nod.

"A little late in the evening for you to be wandering around, Harry," Dumbledore chided kindly, smiling.

Harry smiled back stiffly. "Sorry, sir. I'm a bit used to walking the perimeter at night. I'll try to confine it to the Great Hall."

"You should ­try sleeping like the rest of the students, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered.

Harry gave Snape an empty smile. "Yes, sir."

"I actually had a question," Dumbledore said hastily, as Snape's eyes sparked at Harry's obvious attempt at humoring him. He motioned to the closed room, his attention on Harry. "Young Mr. Longbottom has not been the only one in that room to wake and cry 'ward'."

Harry grimaced, not enjoying the thought of explaining that particular trait of their group. From where he'd been in various parts of the castle, he'd heard the 'ward' cry through the sickle-comm and been able to send the corresponding 'clear' to the person who'd woken up.

"It's…complicated," Harry hedged, watching the closed doors intently. He tucked his hands into his pockets briefly, his right hand closing around a warm silver sickle.

"I am a little more than curious," Dumbledore insisted, and Harry could feel the heavy weight of the man's regard. "Please indulge an old man."

Harry sighed. "It's our warning system, sort of. At night, one person would usually stand guard, since we couldn't spare two people for it like we should. Those Death Eater dogs—" Harry stumbled to a pause, and turned to Snape. "No offence intended, Professor."

Snape sneered at him like always, but there was no bitterness or anger in his eyes. "I'm sure it was just a happy coincidence."

Harry's lip twitched briefly before he smoothed out his expression and continued. "The Death Eaters liked to attack mostly at night. So to check on the person standing watch, we'd set it so that one person woke every half-hour. An hour max, if we felt safe. 'Ward the circle' is what they called out, and if the sentry that night responded with 'All's clear' within the first couple of seconds, they went back to sleep. If the person on guard duty took longer, or deviated from the word 'clear' the one who woke up would shout to wake the others."

Dumbledore looked shocked. "And you did that every night?"

"Every time we made camp," Harry agreed. His eyes darkened, remembering the time that forced them to reevaluate their night watches. They'd lost two people, and seven more had been injured and eventually died from the spelled wounds. He'd barely been able to get everyone else out of there with their lives. The screaming and smell of burning flesh wasn't something he'd ever be able forget.

"A nice story," Snape said into the silence. "But hardly accurate, considering several students woke and fell back asleep without you being around to give your 'all clear' sign," he jeered.

Harry glanced up at Snape briefly. "I never remember saying that I had to be within speaking distance," he said, shoulders tightening at Snape's accusation. "If we'd only relied on verbal communication, we never would have made it into Hogwarts."

"Quite true," Dumbledore agreed. "And I remember Minerva mentioning something about flares of magic following the students' waking."

Snape laughed harshly. "All children's magic jumps from sleep to consciousness, Albus."

Harry's lip twitched in a half-hidden smirk he was reasonably sure the Headmaster missed. Not all children's magic jumped, although that was reportedly normal. Hermione had trained them to hold a steady magical level during sleep, waking, danger, and even sex. Because Voldemort had those that could sense what state a person was in by those levels, it was an important part in planning ambushes.

"Ron was the first one to wake up," Harry said, "at midnight. Justin woke after that at twelve fifty-seven, Ginny at one forty-two, Neville at two thirty, Lavender at two fifty-nine, and then Neville again just recently at three thirty. He has a bad habit of waking every hour or so. Mostly it was to check up on his patients. He took charge of the injured, since he knew the most about medical treatments and first aid. But he also wakes up just because he worries more than most people. I 'cleared' each one who woke up using a form of Occulemency." He glanced at Snape. "What little I know of it is enough to get into willing minds."

Snape bared his teeth, outraged. "You'd use such a thing for—"

Dumbledore held up a hand, making Snape pause. "I believe Harry mentioned a 'form of' Occlumency, Severus," he chided gently.

Harry nodded. "It was Hermione's idea, of course. She's the brains, Ron's the brawn, and I'm the power, they say. And it's not like I dive right in," he defended to Snape. "More like…I knock on their door and leave a note."

"Ridiculous," the Potionsmaster scoffed. "Not to mention nearly impossible without a focus."

Harry regarded Snape steadily. "We have a focus set up," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's coded to carry messages, emotions, or pictures straight into a person's mind. It can operate on either a single person-to-person link, or it can broadcast to everyone with a focus piece."

"That's quite impressive," Dumbledore praised, beaming at Harry. "What kind of focus piece do you use?"

Harry tensed, suspicion flaring automatically. "I'd rather not say," he said flatly.

The Headmaster didn't look surprised by this, though he did seem a bit disappointed. "Of course, my boy. After so long out in the field, so to speak, I can quite imagine it to be hard to give up your secrets." He smiled briefly, blue eyes sparkling. "But please try not to use it but for emergencies, hm?"

Harry frowned, confused. "What else could it be—" He broke off, comprehension coming to him abruptly.

Dumbledore was referring to pranks and jokes, something that he was sure his team would think of come morning and they were fully rested. Ron and Seamus, most likely, would lead the mischief. A good thing, then, that Hermione and Dean were there to keep them in line.

"I'll speak with them at breakfast," Harry promised, returning Dumbledore's smile faintly. "Most likely, everyone will be too content with the novelty of Quidditch and schoolwork for the next week. But setting the rules now will keep them in line later on."

"Novelty of schoolwork, Mr. Potter?" Snape remarked skeptically.

Harry grinned at the man. "Sure. After all, it's been ages since we've had the opportunity to learn something that wasn't the difference between life and death. And Neville's been fantasizing about getting into Herbology when he got back. I remember Lavender talking about Divinations class, too, useless as that one is."

Dumbledore's lip twitched briefly. "And which class are you looking forward to returning to, Harry?"

Harry face went blank for a moment, expressions slipping off like a mask shifting. And Dumbledore had a brief glance at what lay beneath. Something cold, numb, and deadly. Something that sent a chill of fear up the older man's spine.

Then the moment passed, and the mask had returned to it's place. Harry grinned back at Dumbledore slightly, no hint in his eyes of what he'd so quickly showed.

"Actually, I think I might be with Ron on this one, Professor," Harry admitted sheepishly. "Ron doesn't want to see another book again for the year, and would rather play Quidditch until then. I've had enough learning to last a right while, anyway. Riding a broom for fun again would be nice."

Snape sneered. "You would—"

Harry turned as Snape broke off, shoulders tightening automatically. He became hyperaware of his wand, resting in its' holster inside his robes, magic humming from it softly. It would take point-five seconds to have it out and trained on the enemy, and Harry's hand twitched to be used. Spells, curses, hovered at the tip of his tongue with less than a thought.

Harry relaxed marginally to see Justin standing by the dining room doors. The tension slid away from his shoulders, and the curses fell back into his gut. This was not an enemy.

Justin scrubbed a hand over his face and shrugged away the last of his sleep, seemingly unconcerned with Harry's intense stare. His hair was sleep-ruffled, disheveled, and his clothes were wrinkled. But even with that, Harry thought in amusement, the man still managed to look very handsome.

"Almost four, Harry," Justin said, yawning. "Two hours 'til morning. I'll watch 'em, so get some rest, alright?" He blinked owlishly, and nodded to the Headmaster and Professor Snape. "Morning, Sirs."

The Headmaster smiled at Justin. "Good evening, Mr. Finch-Fletchy."

Justin turned back to Harry, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, then, Harry. Two hours ain't so bad, and it'll keep Hermione's wrath off you for a bit."

Harry grimaced, but nodded. "Alright. Ward the perimeter, and keep an eye on Neville. He's getting restless, and will probably get up soon to check on the ones with Madam Pomfrey. Tell him I said go back to sleep and let the woman do her job. They'll still be there after breakfast."

Justin nodded, smiling faintly. "Sure, Harry."

Harry sighed, running a hand wearily through his hair as he thought. "You might as well swing by on your rounds and check up on them yourself." He shot Justin a short look, mindful of the Headmaster and Snape. "But don't disturb their rest, if they're sleeping. And make sure everyone stays through breakfast, whether they're eating or not. I have a few announcements to make."

Justin nodded again, no smiles this time. "Got it, Harry."

Harry turned to the two professors. "Sorry for causing trouble," he apologized. "Good night, Headmaster. Professor Snape."

"Please try for more than two hours of sleep, Harry," the Headmaster asked mildly.

Harry gave the man an empty smile. "Sure, Headmaster."

"Students are not allowed to visit the medical ward after hours," Snape growled through gritted teeth, glaring at Harry.

Harry smiled faintly at the man. "Of course, Professor. Justin."

The boy crossed his heart, grinning. "They won't see hide nor hair of me, Harry. Get some rest." He called after their leader as he made his way to the dinning room. "And try to sleep this time!"

Harry raised a hand wearily over his shoulder, not bothering to look back as he slipped inside. Justin watched pensively as the door shut, hoping Harry was actually tired enough to go to sleep. He'd been using those Pepper-Up potions Hermione had scratched together more and more frequently towards the end. Justin didn't know if anyone else really knew how much, but he knew that Harry was skirting the dangerous line between overdose and addiction.

The next couple of weeks would be telling ones for Harry, and the rest of their team. Readjusting to student life wasn't going to be a smooth transition for anyone, but least of all for the Golden Trio. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken the brunt of the horrors out there, both physically and mentally. Justin didn't think they could ever go back to being just students. Sometimes he doubted any of the team could…

Shaking away those unproductive thoughts, Justin turned back to the Headmaster and Professor Snape with a wide smile. The two men had remained where they were after Harry left, splitting their attention between the door and Justin.

"Don't worry, Professor Snape," Justin assured the snarky man. "I won't be going up to the medical ward until curfew is lifted. So long as it gets done before Harry wakes up, it doesn't much matter when I do it."

Snape's lip curled as he looked down at Justin. "How reassuring," he sneered.

Justin heaved a mental sigh, keeping his smile pasted on brightly. Not five minutes into a conversation with the greasy git, and already he was ready to strangle the man. This did not bode well for the next three weeks they had before school began again.

"I won't keep you, sirs," Justin said, turning to include Dumbledore. "It might be early yet for me, but I'm sure you both would like some sleep after today's excitement."

Dumbledore smiled faintly, his eyes twinkling. "Thank you for your consideration, Mr. Finch-Fletchy. As it turns out, I am a bit worn around the edges." He shot Snape a twinkling grin. "And I am sure Professor Snape has not slept in a number of days."

Snape's look was eloquent enough that Dumbledore chuckled. The Potionsmaster turned the hard look on Justin. "Despite Mr. Potter's disdain for them, the rules here are not subject to school hours alone, Mr. Finch-Fletchy."

Justin resisted the urge to scowl at the man, and waved his wand absently at the wall beside the doors. A simple wooden chair appeared, sturdy but with no extra padding to make it comfortable. Justin preferred it that way. Any type of comfort, and he was likely to fall asleep on duty.

"I told you not to worry, sir," Justin said mildly, turning back to his teacher. "I'm not like Harry. I don't need to wander the halls to keep my demons from catching up. I can ward the lot inside just fine taking up post outside the doors."

That said, Justin turned and headed over to his seat. Dropping into it, he kicked back until the chair tipped and the back tapped the wall. Slouching just a little, more to have easier access to his wand than to get comfortable, Justin crossed his arms and settled into his watch.

Dumbledore and Snape left moments later, apparently satisfied with Justin's intentions.

Tbc...