The only thing anyone wanted to talk about the second week of class was the alerts that had been posted to all the House bulletin boards: Flying lessons. Hari knew this would be yet another example of magic which refused to work for him, but tolerated his housemates' excitement with the poise and grace befitting a Jedi.
He found solace in the fact that at least they would be working alongside the Ravenclaws. Hari wasn't surprised that the magic hat had offered him blue; apart from his own Hufflepuff they seemed the best suited for a Jedi. Particularly consulars, with their love of study and lore and deep knowledge.
Hari had learned the names of all the houses by then, and dutifully memorized their names, mottoes, preferred virtues, and notable members. Gryffindor, it turned out, had as little in common with the Sith as he could reasonably expect of anyone. They had a Guardian's recklessness and aptitude for confrontation, while Slytherin seemed all too eager to engage them.
Slytherin itself seemed like a rather Sith-ish house, valuing personal ambition and an eagerness for power which made Hari more than a little uncomfortable. Hogwarts seemed strange, yes, but only now did he really understand how completely foreign this place was. Where they would have a whole section of the school dedicated to teaching those sort, and encouraging their lust for power?
Hufflepuff house had been welcoming, even if its manner remained unfamiliar to him. While he felt disconnected from the younglings, he could see the potential in them, the strength of character.
Slytherin was the discordant note in Hogwarts' tune, and its existence bothered Hari almost as much as his own continued inability to fix the Force.
Several of his fellow Hufflepuffs had reported run-ins with Slytherins, and none of them had been positive. Hari had yet to decide on a personal policy for such instances - were anything to occur in front of him, he would at once act in defence of anyone being assailed, but when he was not there to observe or intervene in the initial event, was it his place to seek justice afterward? Or ought he leave them to it?
He wasn't technically an adult here, wasn't considered a person of authority. And, considering how volatile his emotions were now despite his best attempts at control, he suspected that may be for the best. He'd found himself almost shouting at a Gryffindor who just refused to listen to reason, stubbornly insisting that he hadn't done what Hari had just watched him do. But it wasn't his place to correct the behavior of every Hogwarts youngling.
Don't interfere. Don't get involved. Stay out of planetary affairs.
One evening after classes concluded, instead of starting immediately for the library as had become his habit - there was always so much more he didn't know - he found himself wandering up to the sixth floor Alchemy classroom. Master Flamel's sole class, Alchemy took place after dinner during the time when most students had 'clubs' or participated in less formalized evening activities.
Hari wasn't sure himself why he'd come up here, but he tapped on Master Flamel's door anyway in case the teacher was preparing for his lessons before heading down to dinner.
The door opened almost at once.
"Harry, do come in."
Master Flamel stood aside as Hari entered. He tapped a classroom chair with his wand, transforming it into a much more comfortable shape, and offered it to his guest. Hari accepted gracefully, though he required no such accommodations. The older man transformed a second chair and settled into it himself, then leaned forward and peered at Hari.
"What brings you to my corner of the castle?" Master Flamel inquired.
Hari paused to gather his thoughts.
"How should I deal with Slytherin?" he asked at last. "It is an unseemly blight upon Hogwarts, and on Earth. Why is it permitted to continue? Is there any way I can. . . fix it? Is there anything I should do? Or is it truly nothing I should be involved with until I'm 'older'?"
Master Flamel chuckled. "Would it surprise you to know that I myself belonged to Slytherin house?"
"Yes," Hari admitted. "You seem very Ravenclaw to me."
"And yet it is by my endless ambition that I have come this far. By my dedication and cunning that I've discovered what I have. Harry. . . it is far too easy to sort people into categories and judge them without due consideration."
"I'm not judging without consideration," Hari said. "I have watched. The Slytherin house is a hotbed of darkness and arrogance. They are as Sith-like a group as I've ever encountered, and the fact that Hogwarts is teaching them how to use this power is terrifying to me. Can you imagine what will happen when they are grown and powerful?"
Master Flamel took a moment to reply. "Much of what you see now is an aftermath of the brief, violent conflict which ripped through Wizarding Britain," he said. "And scarcely a decade ago did it end. Lines were drawn, enmities created, and factions set into place which have yet to dissolve. This conflict is what you see, not the true reality of Slytherin. Right now, 'Slytherin' and 'Dark Wizard' are indeed close to synonymous in the eyes of the world."
"So that will change?" Hari asked, skeptically. "Without intervention, it will just fix itself?"
"I agree with you that right now Slytherin house is not behaving with honour. But to repair the attitudes of others is never easy, Harry, especially when they have no reason to accept your help. Understanding is your best weapon and strongest shield."
Hari nodded, feeling emptier than before. "Understanding." It should have been easy, he was a Jedi, understanding other people's perspectives was his life. But so much of that life was nothing but fragments and glimpses, he vacillated between utter confidence and near-complete ignorance.
While his understanding of Earth and, particularly, its magical populace was growing at a steady rate, his understanding of humanity seemed to waver by the day. Part of it, he knew, was simply that his physical mind wasn't fully developed, and that certain concepts would remain out of his proper reach - or at least much more difficult - until Harry reached proper adulthood. Part was the transition, his knowledge lost in the shift between galaxies.
But more, he knew, was the result of his own choices. His personal focus had always been on the deeper level beneath relationships and above them - on systems and possibilities and making things work.
"I've never been the most socially apt Jedi," Hari admitted quietly. "I had a group of friends, allies. We worked together all the time, they covered for my weakness and I covered for theirs as best we could. It's been years since we were all together, of course. I'd been a Master on the Council, staying on Coruscant for the most part, and they each had their own apprentices and tasks. But we always knew that we had each other, if we needed them."
Master Flamel nodded encouragingly.
"I've forgotten how to begin, I suppose," Hari said after a moment. "I lived within the confines of the Jedi Order all my life, the same people as friends and teachers and companions. For over a hundred years, the same people, I knew them so well-" He was starting to choke up, emotion clogging his throat. "I have to begin again, but I'm not sure how to," he said faintly.
Master Flamel put a hand on Hari's shoulder. "I understand," he said softly. "I have been fortunate, my wife Perenell has been with me for most of my years, but it is easy to lose track of the world. To look up one day and discover that it has moved on far beyond where you left it last, with new customs and ideals. The occasional new country or continent." He shook his head. "I'd imagine it's even worse for you, being non-native yourself."
Hari nodded, taking his emotions firmly under control again. "I inherited a lot of basic understanding when I arrived into this body," he said, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable but wanting Master Flamel to understand. "I still don't know what's happening. Why I'm here. How."
"Purpose is what we make of it, my boy," Nicholas Flamel said.
"I know my purpose," Hari said firmly. "That I have no doubt of. This world is separate from the Force, something has gone wrong, and I mean to set it right."
"Indeed? Your Force is not merely another name for magic?"
Hari shook his head. "I can do things with the Force that your magic cannot. And I am unable to perform even the simplest spells." He waved his wand in a perfect arc and flicked it toward a sheet of parchment, incanting wingardium leviosa with precise timing. The parchment didn't so much as flutter.
Then Hari set the wand aside and lifted the parchment with the Force, folding it into a holocron shape before setting it back down on the desk.
Master Flamel nodded slowly. "I could replicate that folding pattern with my magic," he said, "but it is certainly no first-year spell. The precision of control necessary is far beyond a beginner. And certainly wandless it would be difficult. What else can your Force do, if you don't mind my asking?"
Hari began listing Force abilities, starting from common telekinesis and physical amplification like healing and jumping and speed, then into environmental manipulation like creating lightning or fire or wind, then to interpersonal connections - bonding, mind-reading and influence, telepathy.
"I know the Force is still active here, because I've been able to connect with Sev, that's my cat, and Master Binns."
"Binns?" Nicholas Flamel suddenly appeared very interested. "I've noticed a marked change in his behavior of late."
Hari winced slightly. "That would be my fault, I'm afraid. I acted on impulse without forethought. Have the changes been. . . detrimental?"
"No, on the contrary, he seems much less passive now. For as long as I've known him he had a passion for obscure history, that in his older years became stifled by routine and repetition. He would never give up the subject, but he didn't truly care as he once did. Now, I've seen him performing research again and updating his notes."
"How?" Hari asked. Though Force ghosts could speak with the living, their ability to interact with the physical world was lost when they died. Perhaps 'ghosts' here were different after all?
"Magic," Master Flamel replied. "He always was a dab hand at nonverbal levitation, was Binns. Easier to carry stacks of books about, you see."
"Ghosts can use magic?" Hari asked, surprised. From the Force ghosts he'd heard about in Jedi legend, he had the impression that they could share wisdom with the living but little beyond that.
"Some can, the strongest and most determined. They cannot use wands, but their innate ability remains in some ways intact. But we have strayed from the topic at hand. You are asking about purpose, and about my house."
"Something must be done," Hari insisted.
"I do not know everything, Harry. I can consider the problem, but I do not have a ready solution to every conundrum you may face." Master Flamel chuckled dryly. "I'm not so old or wise as that."
"I don't care what it takes," Hari said. "Slytherin needs to change, or be removed."
"I would point out, however," Master Flamel said gently, "that you've been here less than a month. While you may have a correct grasp of the situation, I would highly recommend that you spend considerably lorger ascertaining the social - and political - landscape of Slytherin house before you attempt to intervene. Mistakes could be much more costly than inaction."
Hari nodded. He understood patience, pursuing a goal cautiously and steadily. "But what should I do."
"That is always the great question, is it not?" Master Flamel said. "In this case, watch. Consider. Learn. And, if at all possible Harry, try to understand."
"I can understand them far too easily," Hari replied. "They seek power, and are willing to accept any meagre advantage over their fellows to believe themselves greater. They care nothing for any but themselves-"
"An almost universal failing among the young," Master Flamel said, his tone still gentle, but Hari still felt the admonishment in his words.
"But not one that need be permitted. Not that we should allow them to act upon unhindered. What they do now in halls and corridors with words and quiet jinxes, imagine how much greater a peril it will be when played out upon the world, with true power behind word and deed."
"Remember, Harry, that what we are as children does not always reflect what we will become. I myself was not a particularly kind or caring boy, but I have had many centuries in which to learn empathy and understanding for those I would formerly have dismissed out of hand. If I am to teach you anything of true worth, then let it be the value of patience. You need not act now. You need not even decide how to act. It is enough to observe and prepare."
And while it was not the answer Hari wanted, he realized that it was - in its own way - a good answer after all.
Author's Notes: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I'm not getting anywhere by staring at it. I'm in one of my creative slumps at the moment, and pretty much loathe everything I've ever written. That said, I remain firmly committed to continuing to write and post regardless. I apologize if this leads to uneven story quality, but it's the best I can manage at present.
I'm also posting this while completely exhausted, so my typo check may have been less thorough than usual. Please let me know if you spot any spelling or grammar problems and I'll fix them.
Thank you all! I'm constantly astounded by how many people are reading this story, it truly means a lot to me. I'm not sure I'd have nearly as much motivation to continue without you all.