"No, no… We need to hit their northern border as soon as
possible! … Well then, next time, don't ask for my opinion!"
Harry James Potter blinked numbly, looking about his
surroundings. One moment, he'd been on the Hogwarts Express,
heading back to London after… After Dumbledore's funeral.  And
now, he seemed to be in a rather strange study. Bookshelves
surrounded him, filled with hundreds of volumes, arranged, it
seemed, in no particular order. Sun-Tzu's Art of War was crammed
next to A Hogwarts History. Modern Military Strategies, Reading
Ancient Sumerian, and The Illiad were shoved somewhat
haphazardly in with countless other books, maps, journals, and
other documents.  Hermione would have a fit, he thought in
slight amusement, before turning and looking for the source of
the voice he'd heard.  There was a single desk at the end of the
room, though it was probably more fair to call it a large table.
It was, like the bookshelves, covered in books, but there were
also computers, pieces of odd technology, and