Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Star Wars belongs to Disney.
"Normal speech"
"Thoughts"
"Other Language"
Chapter 25 – Bound in Darkness
Ministry of Magic, London, England (U.K.)
Whenever the students returned to Hogwarts, the Improper Use of Magic Office had a rather severe reduction in work. There were, of course, other matters, such as enforcing the International Statute of Secrecy, but it was rather rare whenever they had to act on any violations. There was, of course, Carlotta Pinkstone and her constant attempts at revealing magic to the muggles, but right now, she was once more in Azkaban. James had the unfortunate task of apprehending her, back when he was a minor member of the Office, and he had experienced first-hand Pinkstone's trickery and wandless magic. It took a while to capture her, but they eventually did so.
But all that was years ago, and now his work mostly consisted of sitting behind a desk, while reading and signing documents, and writing reports for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And as he did exactly this, James was only distracted by a knock on his office's door.
"Yes?"
It opened, his secretary entering. "Sir, Lord Amelius Nott is here. He requests an immediate meeting with you."
Nott? Why exactly was Amelius Nott here? As far as he knew, he had no dealings with the Nott family, and Nott himself was in no trouble with his office. There was still the fact that Nott's son was Harry's apprentice, but beyond that…
"Let him in."
He had to know what exactly Nott wanted.
The secretary nodded, leaving. Moments later, Amelius Nott entered the room, wearing rather plain robes, which James regarded as an odd choice for the aristocrat.
"Good morning Nott," said James. "What is it that brings you here?"
Amelius nodded, sitting down. "Potter," he greeted. "I need to speak with you about Fudge."
That was a surprise.
"Fudge? What about him?"
"I'm sure you know that his decision to… revive the Triwizard Tournament, together with this whole mess surrounding the attack during the World Cup, have done little good to improve his image. In fact, it did the opposite."
James was quite unsure of what Nott was getting at. He was aware of Fudge's recent unpopularity amongst the Ministry staff and the populace, but he had no idea what he had to do with that. Nor why Nott was talking to him about it.
"So?"
"Me and several associates have reached the conclusion that Fudge no longer has the ability to lead our world. We need a new Minister."
There was no doubt that Nott's influence, together with that of others, was enough to topple Fudge from the office of Minister. It was something that James was certain of, for he too could do the same thing with help from others.
"And why tell me this?" he asked.
"Because my associates and I believe that the best replacement for Cornelius is none other than you."
If James had to tell someone three days ago that Amelius Nott would enter his office and try to convince him to run to Minister for Magic, he would be laughed at, and possibly admitted into St Mungo's fourth floor as a victim of some badly done spell which messed up his mind.
"You what?"
"There have been no Triwizard Tournaments for two centuries, something which bothered no one. A relic of more dangerous times, when Hogwarts and the other schools had a more… martial curriculum," said Amelius. "Today, neither Hogwarts, nor Beauxbatons, nor Durmstrang, are prepared for such a tournament, especially considering that the three tasks have been selected from those of previous tournaments. This unilateral decision from Fudge did not please many people, especially since Bagman was also behind it."
"I was not aware that Bagman was unpopular in the Ministry," remarked James.
"Ludovic may be many things, but he's neither a politician, nor a bureaucrat. The man's more concerned about sports and bets than anything else. This is his chance for glory… and money as well, since he'll likely bet on one of the champions. Regardless, many believe that Fudge's recent choices have been quite improper for someone who's supposed to be the Minister for Magic. I'm certain that your son's encounters with the Dementors last year comes to mind, no?"
James frowned. He remembered very well that Michael had been assaulted by the Dementors several times last year at Hogwarts and had come far too close to being 'kissed' by one of them. And despite pressuring Fudge to remove the Dementors from Hogwarts, the man had been far too stubborn and refused. What good that did, for Peter managed to not only enter the castle, but also escape it.
And Fudge somehow managed to escape being hit by the media for it. Possibly because someone who wanted him to remain in power was protecting him. And if he was correct, this someone was one of Nott's associates, which meant that this protection no longer existed.
"I admit I'm intrigued. What would it take, then?"
"You already have what it takes to become Minister, Potter. All you need to do, it to put those skills to use. My associates and I will take care of making the position vacant – don't worry, nothing illegal. But be prepared when the time comes."
James nodded. "We'll see."
Amelius stood up, nodding as well. He went to the door, but before leaving the room, he turned to James.
"I hope for your success, and so does your son."
That brought James's attention back. "My son?"
"Oh, yes. Lord Dramath is watching your actions with great interest. I would not wish to disappoint him. Until another day, Potter."
He left the room, leaving behind a very thoughtful James Potter. Those parting words did confirm something which he had not thought about before. He was now certain that Harry was behind whatever game Nott and his people were playing, not to mention the fact that he had referred to him as 'Lord'.
He was not stupid. Harry's unexpected insistence that he ignore Malfoy's basement, even after he himself had revealed to him its existence, was suspicious, and the fact that both Malfoy and Nott were undoubtedly Death Eaters, made him reach one conclusion.
They now served a new master.
Jan Mayen, Norway
Harry stood in front of the entrance of the hidden temple, in the depths of a dark cave which had not been visited by any living soul in centuries. He alone had travelled here a few times before, to prepare things for the upcoming ritual, and now, this would hopefully be the last time he was going to set foot here.
The other Sith arrived gradually, their numbers increasing, and so did Harry's excitement, which he kept hidden as much as possible. That little which he could not contain, the others assumed to be directed at the possibility of toppling the Hord clan.
"Lorus!"
He turned to the voice, Elcho approaching him.
"Yes?"
"Everyone is here. Shall we proceed."
"Finally! Let's get inside, the obelisk in in the main entrance hall."
The other Sith gathered behind Harry-Lorus, as he led them into the depths of the temple. The main corridor was somewhat filled with rubble and collapsed passages, but the way into the large chamber was clear. They soon entered, the platform in front of them showing a grand hall below, at its centre a large obelisk, somewhat damaged by time, but intact enough that it would work perfectly for the ritual.
"All of you, get down there, and form a circle around the obelisk. I'll direct the ritual from here," he spoke.
The others followed his commands, and soon enough, Harry was looking down at those who would be the key to his ascension. There was no time to loose.
"Focus the dark side towards the obelisk. Draw your power there, and concentrate deeply, so that the vision may come to all of you successfully."
In moments, waves of dark side energy poured into the obelisk, washing over the room and beyond. To Harry, the sensation of power was exhilarating, but he was not there for that. He raised his hands, directing them to the obelisk, and then he spoke in the high tongue of the Sith.
"Tsamria iw hadzuska, nisosûti iw jina'tis, diridhan iw tutsatsa diâ anmudzuna! Mirji iw midwan diâ dwasi, dorizi sis kûrja ji'as ki waria!"
His eyes glowed purple, and lightning poured from his fingers and into the obelisk, engulfing it with his own power, and drawing in that of the Sith below. In those few seconds, the shift in the dark side was felt by all those present, alerting them to the danger. Yet it was too late for all of them. They had, unwittingly, given themselves fully for the ritual, both in body and soul.
Bolts of lightning shot from the obelisk, hitting each of the Sith in the chamber below. They screamed, wailed, and groaned, as they were all bound to the ancient ritual of Narmer, not knowing what their true fate yet was.
"Lorus, what treachery is this?" shouted Elcho, feeling his own strength sapped away.
"I would ask you the same thing, Lord Elcho, but I already know the answer. But I'll satisfy your curiosity. This ritual does not give any vision to its users. No… its true purpose is known only to me. It binds you to an anchor, and drains away the Force energy within you. First, from your body… and then your very essence," he revealed. "There's no escape from it, no escape from this room, this temple. This ritual I performed will seep into the minds of all of those who are not touched by the Force as we are and bind them to my will."
In this, he followed the footsteps of Narmer, who had done the exact same thing millennia ago, yet in a smaller scale, binding the peoples of ancient Egypt to his will. He could not have done it in such a scale as he was doing now, for the Jedi, who had been looking for survivors of the Hyperspace War, would be certainly attracted by the disturbance. But a long time had passed since them, and now their pursuit was of no concern.
In enough weeks, the entire planet would be covered in a cloud of the dark side, his will being transmitted to all non-Force-sensitives and forcing them to follow his command. Yet it was not a full-scale mind control. They would adore him, and follow his every command without question, but beyond that, they would still go one with their lives. Nothing different about that.
"I would love to remain and chat, but I'm afraid I have things to do. Erasing this temple from history is one of them. Don't bother to use your datapads or lightsabers, the ritual fried them," he declared. "Farewell you lot. It was a pleasure."
And so, Harry left the temple, leaving behind him the screams and shouts of many Sith, who now were the fuel of his ambitions.