DISCLAIMER THE FIRST: It is by JKR's writing alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the grace of coffee that thoughts acquire speed, the back acquires strains, the strains become a warning. The warning is that I make no money from this. It is by JKR's writing alone I set my mind in motion.
PITHY STATEMENT RELATING TO THIS CHAPTER: "Evil is a word used by the ignorant and the weak. The Dark Side is about survival. It's about unleashing your inner power. It glorifies the strength of the individual." Darth Bane – Dark Lord of the Sith; Only Sith survivor of the Jedi-Sith War – (Birth and death dates unknown except for being approximately 1,000 before the start of the Clone Wars)
Last Updated: 04-04-2020
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STORY BUNNY NOTE: A slightly different take on the Weapon HP story. In thinking on it, I had a lot of reviewers focused on the armor and talk about Harry being Doctor Doom. The problem is the armor itself could lend to a lot of things and detract from all the bio-forming done with the remains of the basilisk.
This got me thinking that instead of Doctor Doom, why not go further and go the route of Darth Vader. Where the armor is the main element and it's the thing keeping Harry alive. This led to an avenue where I could use a plot point, I've wanted to play with House Potter having ties with India which should come as no surprise given England's dominance of India for so long.
The thing is, there are two ways I could play this. One, is Harry's armor reminds him of Darth Vader and so he goes path, to the point of making a magical lightsaber (it would actually be a magical variable-blade) and perhaps being mentored by the Bloody Baron or something.
The other is to have Harry find a Sith Holocron in the Chamber of Secrets. So things like the giant basilisk, various nasty things (like dementors) and horcruxes all stem from descendants of Salazar Slytherin having access to this holocron and things like Sith Alchemy.
For this story bunny, I'm going to do like I did in the previous one where I'm going to showcase different scenes from what would be a larger fic and go with the Star Wars avenue. Also, because I've done it twice already, reread Weapon HP to find out how Harry got burned because that part would remain the same.
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DARK LORD OF THE HISS
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INFIRMARY, HOGWARTS, SCOTLAND – JANUARY 30th, 1995 – AFTERNOON
The moment Healer Devi Roy entered into his visual range; Harry immediately wondered if Snape had relatives in India. The man looked at Harry with a dispassionate air as if irritated to have to heal another person who stupidly gotten themselves hurt. It was almost the same look Snape would give students when something went wrong even though he'd never done more than tell them the instructions were on the board...and written by a man with a Mastery in potions and geared towards students trying to learn a precise procedure foreign to most of them.
The Healer, who had only recently arrived from Hyderabad, continued to stare at Harry, Given Harry could barely move anything, he had no choice but to stare back. Finally the man took out his wand and began various intricate spells. Most were silently cast, but the ones Harry could hear were in some foreign language. Harry wondered what that might be. Europeans used Latin because it was similar to modern languages but not in use anymore. When Latin was the language of the educated, Greek had been used instead. (Harry still didn't know what the Greeks had used at that time.)
Finally the Healer put away his wand, "Yes; I can help him." Again Harry couldn't help but think of his potions professor given how the Healer almost sounded depressed that he could help him.
Harry's thoughts weren't mirrored by the others in the room. Dumbledore especially looked like he'd just won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon drawing. "That is wonderfully good news, Healer Roy. Whatever you need, please do not hesitate to ask."
"Other than raw materials, you have nothing that I will need. Britain is far too primitive in the magical arts to conceptualize what I will do," Healer Roy said in a cold voice which implied a sneer as well as almost a challenge.
A challenge Professor Snape took up, "Hogwarts is the premier school of magic..."
"Hogwarts is a ramshackle school built out of a ruined castle by four witches and wizards kicked out of their own countries," Roy interrupted. "It is also 3,000 years younger than my alma mater. Please do not bother me with your tired delusions of grandeur. Perhaps if you ever lift the curse on one of your teaching positions, I might be more inclined not to see you as the backwater school the rest of the world knows you to be," Healer Roy said in a dry voice. "Now then, I will make a list of items which I require. I would hope, if only for historical display, does this derelict of a school still have a working forge?"
Harry's heart sank when all the Professors looked at each other in embarrassment.
"Ah! So it is true that the likes of Wayland the Smith and the Peverells not only have faded into legend, but their very crafts have been given over to the Goblins," Healer Roy said with a sigh. "It is odd that for a community which prides itself over defeating the goblins again and again now lack the capability to match these same goblins with weapons and armor. Perhaps that is why you seem not to care about your Squibs. I am betting you don't even teach of the Vanguard Knights. Or the Host of Albion, their battle-standard carried by those clad in the armor designed and forged by the likes of the Peverell family. Ah but I forget; this is England. Magic is Might after all,"
While Harry could see this statement made all of his Professors uncomfortable, except for red faces, either from anger or embarrassment, none contested the Indian's comment.
"I will attach my fee to fetch a good dwarven mobile blacksmith shop to my final fee. I'm sure there are those in England who would cheerfully chip in to help their Boy-Who-Lived, yes?" Healer Roy said as he began to jot down notes in a bound journal. Harry noted it was a Muggle pen.
Dumbledore cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I'm sure we can make that happen, Healer Roy."
"Good! Well then; I have the information I need for now. I will return in three days. Continue with the treatment you have been using. However, you need to wean him off the pain medication," Healer Roy said as he continued to write and give orders without bothering to make eye contact.
"Healer Roy!' Madam Pomfrey exclaimed in horror. "It's hard enough to keep the pain manageable now and you want me to lessen it? He's only a boy!"
Healer Roy looked up with a look that obviously showed he didn't like having a school nurse tell him his business, "And if this boy wants to survive past the next week or two, he's going to have to learn how to endure pain. That is just the way of it."
The Healer turned and looked Harry in the eye. Harry wasn't sure what he saw in the man's brown eyes, but whatever it was sent a cold shiver down what was left of his nervous system.
"Yes, pain will be his companion for a very long time."
OoOoO
Cedric looked down at the armor that was laid out on the table not far from Harry's bed where he lay sleeping. He didn't like it. There was an air of menace to it. To Cedric, it seemed like something you'd see an old Doctor Who villain wear. Or that the Indian healer really enjoyed the American Galactic Crusade movie series. The armor looked like it could easily be swapped out for that worn by the villainous Baron Krang, evil lord of the Talso and sworn enemy of the Bene Knights.
It didn't help that the armor was done up in an overall snake motif. Cedric could understand that a healer from India might see Harry's slaying of a basilisk being something to venerate and even build into the armor, but it just made the armor look even more menacing than the dark color it already had.
"It's ghastly, isn't it?"
Cedric turned to see Hermione Granger looking disapprovingly at the armor. Cedric scowled, "Why are you here and not in Azkaban like the Weasley Twins?"
Hermione looked up in surprise, but her face quickly hardened. "I have you know that I had no idea what I was throwing and the Aurors agreed that I was not at fault. I'd also remind you that I was one of the few Gryffindors that didn't turn their back on Harry."
"But you were quick to forget him when Krum asked you to the ball, didn't you?" Cedric hissed out quietly. He didn't want to wake Harry.
"Oh for fuck's sake! Merlin forbid I spend THREE WEEKS not having my life revolve around Harry and pay attention to an international celebrity who asked me for a date!" Hermione hissed right back. "Where were all you pure and half-bloods who grew up with all this and who could actually teach Harry what he needed to know prior to the Yule Ball? No; you all ignored him and he ended up not knowing the rules and thus had to go crawling back to Weasley to get help for a date. But I'm somehow the villain here?"
"You threw the first quaffle in all of this!" Cedric said, his face red with anger.
"Oh really? I was out the door before the first spell was fired. I certainly wasn't one who came in, spells blazing. Oh right, that was you and Fleur! For all you being the supposed best and brightest Hogwarts has to offer, you instantly go to the 'blame the Mudblood' playbook. You make me sick!" Hermione said as she fingered her wand. "Funny how when Viktor, the one who started firing spells, is let off the hook under some pure-blood code of honor, yet I'm the one, the one who's honor he was protecting, is to blame."
Before Cedric could do more than swell up in indignation, a loud hissing came from Harry's bed. He turned to see Harry's green eyes boring into him. "What is that?"
Hermione's shoulder's sagged, "It's parseltongue. I don't know what he's saying but whatever it is shows he's angry. Harry doesn't like to use snake speech. We'd better go; we both have done enough already."
OoOoO
The pain just didn't stop. The armor was supposed to help. It did...to a point, but Harry seemed to be aware of every square inch of himself that had been burned. Everything hurt. The sort of pain you might get when you bang your elbow and it hurts but then fades...but this pain wasn't fading.
It didn't help that while he didn't feel like he was about to asphyxiate in the next few minutes, the armor's assisted breathing hurt. Every breath hurt. And with that hurt came the rasping sound of that breath. Harry imagined he must sound like what an old iron lung might have sounded like.
Then there was the red. He still wasn't sure why the helmet didn't have some form of retractable visor given his eyes were fine. Yet now he saw everything through this red filter. Harry wonder how he was expected to rub his eye without having to go back to the room set up for him to take off his helmet.
Harry lay there and listened to his raspy breathing and tried to work through the pain. Healer Roy had said he would have to learn to face his pain, that he had to permit it to pass over him and through him. In doing that, the pain would be gone and only he would remain. Right now, even though he could finally move and walk for the first time in weeks, he just laid there and hurt.
So much so that he didn't notice Healer Roy enter the room till his armor locked into position. It was like a Furantur Motis spell had been cast on him. Healer Roy's face had a smile on it. Something Harry had not seen in the entire time the Indian had worked on healing him.
The man sat down in the chair next to his bed and took out his wand. A few silent spells were cast before he leaned back in his chair and sighed. It was a contented sigh, "Ho gaya hai!"
The wizard sat there for a few minutes, just leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Harry could do nothing but continue to let out the loud breathing noises which were now his constant companion.
Finally Healer Roy opened his eyes and leaned forward so he could make eye-contact with Harry. "You have no idea how long my family has longed for this moment. The moment where the hated life-debt owed to your wretched family is paid at last. And paid in such a way to help make up for the crimes which House Potter helped to commit."
Harry blinked at this…which was about all he could do. With his armor locked up as it was, he barely could open his mouth, making speech impossible.
Healer Roy seemed to realize that gloating over someone you've frozen made for a one-sided discussion. "That's right; you were raised by your Muggle relatives. You have no idea of your family's bloody history. I will enlighten you if only to twist the knife further. In short, young Harry, your ancestors were famous explorers and known for fighting the Dark. They were renowned throughout Europe. But in India? They were the vilest of betrayers."
Healer Roy got up and began to pace. "India's magic is old. It was old when Merlin was just a jump-started magical prodigy. Not so much for our Muggle counter-parts. So when Europeans started to take more and more control of India, we wizards finally decided to act. We used our magics quietly and unobtrusively to hamper the invading Europeans. For years it worked. Plagues and warehouse fires, reefs that appeared where none had been before, officers confounded to lead their men to their deaths."
Healer Roy stopped pacing to look back down at Harry, "Until House Potter betrayed us. The European Magicals had not been an issue at first. They cared little for their Muggle brethren as they fell to our magic. To them, what we were doing was in keeping Magicals superior, again to your people, Magic is might. But over time, the wizards who had interests in shipping and trade, like House Potter, started to get pressure to do something. Some said that if they helped out, the Muggles would make more money and thus wizards would take their cut. Others were jealous of our magical power and felt helping the Europeans with their guns to bring us low would somehow show European wizards to be superior."
Roy began to pace again, "Whatever the reason, nothing much came of it. Any help the European wizards gave was easily countered. And why not? They were far from home and we were in the seat of our power. Yet for all of that, the European Muggles still made gains and as they did, pressure grew on the European Magical community to do more."
"Then came the day when Edmund Potter did what was easy…and profitable over what was right," the wizard said with a sigh of disgust. "For you see, House Potter had been one of the few European families who never waivered in their support of India. That changed when Edmund's father died of injuries from a duel with Geoffrey Malfoy. Edmund was young and easily seduced with the promise of riches and the like from other European Houses."
"Thus it came to pass where Edmund Potter came to Golconda. A fortress which had guarded the famous diamond mines which produced the most famous diamonds of the world then and now. Golconda was also the home to the primary ward stone for a system throughout India which helped us hide our movements, transport troops, communicate through special mirrors and the like. Such an important place wasn't for a foreigner to be allowed into. Yet my family owed your family a life-debt. Who was saved and why is not important. All that is important is that my family vouched for Edmund due to your trusted family's name and the debt we owed you."
Healer Roy once again turned back to look down at Harry, "And because of the Edmund was allowed into the heart of India because we trusted his House, that trust was shattered. Edmund and his party had managed to hide a magical tent in their kit. You see, Edmund and a few retainers had said they wished to pay their respects and give some information they felt would be helpful to us before journeying north to Afghanistan. My family didn't think much of this and the guards who should have known better weren't as diligent as their duty demanded. For one of the retainers manage to break away from the group on the pretext of going to the bathroom. Once the tent was set up, European battle-wizards poured out of the Vanishing Cabinet stored within."
The wizard fingered his wand for a moment. "It was another Trojan Horse event. Suddenly we had the viper inside our very bastion of power. And that viper struck down our defenses. All over India, my people saw these protections fail even as European wizards launched a coordinated offensive along with their unwitting Muggle pawns. There would be fighting for decades after that but the sad truth was the war had been lost that day for India. We simply didn't know it yet."
Healer Roy pointed his wand at Harry, "And the most disheartening thing for my family? We still owed your family a life-debt! Before the last few days, I would be dead if I had attempted to curse you. Now? Now I could kill you with a flick of my wand. For I've saved your life. I've paid the debt. The beauty is that in this case, my intent didn't enter into it. Your family magics cared only that you survived. And you have. Yet it was my intent all along that while you lived, you'd suffer. And you will continue to suffer. With every breath you take, every move you make, pain will be your bride. This pain will be the coin my ancestors spirits will be pained in wergild for House Potter's betrayal."
All Harry could do was hiss out an unintelligible string of curses in parseltongue.
Healer Roy laughed, "That is my cue to leave. I have my fee and the life-debt is complete. I will be gone from this wretched country by the time my spell wears off. You are bonded to that armor. I highly doubt anyone in Europe could take it off without killing you. Those who might know won't help. What was done in India was attempted with various success elsewhere in Asia. You have no friends there. Even the Hong Kong wizards would know not to help or risk angering the wrath of the Qing Dynasty."
The wizard mockingly bowed, "So farewell Lord Harry Potter of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, blood-soaked traitors that you are. I take my leave of you. I leave you to your life of pain to return home with the news that in a small way, our ancestors have been avenged."
Healer Roy turned and left while ignoring the rage-filled hissing coming from the bed.
OoOoO
GIRLS BATHROOM, 2nd FLOOR, HOGWARTS, SCOTLAND – FEBRUARY 11th, 1995 –MORNING
Harry paused and for a want of a better term, searched his feelings. For the last few days, he felt like a voice was calling him. This amazed him because for the most part his life was filled with only one thing: pain. How this voice could be heard over that constant din of agony was something Harry couldn't understand.
Of course his physical pain wasn't being helped by his current condition. A month of the Hogwarts rumor mill had been going on at full speed while he had been an invalid in the infirmary. Now that he was up and about, the full crush of that was washing over him like an angry tide.
First off was that the Gryffindor's formally petitioned Professor McGonagall to remove Harry from the House. No matter what Headmaster Dumbledore had said, no matter that Harry had been trying to break up a fight, it didn't matter to the Lions. To them, not only had he cheated to get into the Tournament, his actions had led to the Weasley Twins being sent to Azkaban. Some even felt that him being entered had kept a "worthy" Gryffindor from competing which ignored the fact that Cedric was the Hogwarts champion and Harry had been entered under a fake school.
All Harry could think of was that this was an attempt to pin all of the blame on the one Gryffindor involved that was already under suspicion and cover up the fact that he was the least of the Gryffindors at fault. He didn't blame Hermione; she had been upset and rightly so. If Harry hadn't known about the Penalty Curse, why would she? Actually given that Hermione was a Muggleborn and a witch, Harry was shocked that she hadn't had the entire thing pinned on her.
Regardless that it was Ron that instigate the entire event, he had come out of the affair mostly unaffected. Harry figured it was because he hadn't been injured and thus hadn't been kept in the infirmary for rumors to swirl around him. It saddened Harry that it didn't surprise him to find Ron had been bad-mouthing both Hermione and him. In fact, it seemed a lot of the Gryffindor vitriol had been fanned by Ron. Again, though, Harry was surprised he'd gone after him and not Hermione. Of course, Ron could think what he wanted but Harry knew Hermione would clean his clock in a duel…and she hadn't been bed-ridden like he had. So perhaps Ron actually gave some thought about who he was bad-mouthing for a change.
It further mystified how he was supposedly to blame for the Twins being in Azkaban. He wasn't a prefect; it hadn't been his responsibility to keep the two from experimenting or using the younger students as test subjects. Nor was he a professor. All of the Hogwarts professors knew of their reputation and the Cupid Sparkle Dust had been in used for two weeks prior to the Yule Ball. Harry was the one trapped in the cursed armor, in pain with every breath and movement, yet somehow it was his fault the Gryffindor Quidditch team was down their two star beaters.
Apparently, his status as unchallenged (without Dementor intervention) seeker didn't count for anything. Harry was reminded of one of the people he'd mow grass for back in Surrey. He was an Army vet and once he'd been talking with his mates and Harry had overheard him comment, "All the 'atta boys' in the world disappeared with one 'ah shit'!" Harry had realized that what the old vet had meant was all your good work suddenly disappeared like a stone dropped in a well when you did something bad.
Secondly was now almost everyone either avoided him or acted like he was seconds away from killing them. He realized that Healer Roy had intentionally made his armor to look scary. It was all just another bit in his revenge plot. It angered Harry it was working so well. Again, Harry had done nothing to warrant it, but the younger students acted like he was a troll sent to kill them by the way they scuttled away from him.
He had gone so far as to ask Professor Dumbledore to check for any sort of spells or enchantment on the armor that might be causing it. Sadly, there were none. The students were just that stupid. It was this that caused his anger to truly flow. He was the victim and yet now he was the villain. People used the look of his armor as proof that he had been the bad guy all along.
So there were times when the pain got so intense that Harry would lose control of his anger. He'd always been good in keeping it in check or risk a worse beating by the Dursleys or other punishments. He learned that seemingly ignoring the taunts by Dudley's gang and others made them go away even as it grated upon him.
At Hogwarts, there was an entire House that seemed to have nothing better to do than make his life miserable. Through it all, the taunts, the stares, the comments people didn't think he could here to the "Potter Stinks!' badges, Harry had kept it together. Now his anger flowed out like lava. It rang out like angry church bells, drowning out even the roar of his body's pain. It was during these moments that Harry began to hear the voice.
A voice that finally had led him to the portal to the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry hissed out the command to open the Chamber. Regardless of the revenge Devi Roy had plotted, to make it work meant he actually had to install many features into the armor to hide that it was in reality a vehicle of torture. Thus it was protective, difficult to damage and had helpful things like built in wand-holsters. Harry wasn't sure about the cloak; he figured it was part of the scary vibe but it was made out of a fabric that could help blunt a spell.
Thus Harry, for all the pain he was in, felt he was certainly in a better position to brave the Chamber of Secrets than he had been two years prior. Too bad he didn't have a sword, though.
OoOoO
Harry stared at the ghostly image of the alien being. Or at least that is what this Darth Plagueis claimed to be. A member of an alien species called the Muun. A species from a galaxy far, far away. The artifact, a holocron, seemed more magical than technological. However, Harry had spent enough time reading sci-fi in the Surrey library to know about the quote regarding high levels of technology would look like magic to others.
"I was in this Chamber before. Riddle was in the Chamber before. Why is it only now that you've called me here?" Harry asked.
The image of the long dead Darth smiled, "Many with the gifts may have come and gone since I was last activated. But power is not an end to itself. This is a lesson so few Sith could remember. There is no Dark side; there is no Light side. There is only the Force. And the Force is power but one that will destroy you if you do not have the will not to let it corrupt you. And the Force can corrupt you. Light or Dark, the power is a temptation and a curse. It is only through great will and focus can you be one with the Living Force."
"That's a lot of pretty words strung together that have little meaning to me," Harry rumbled. He was still getting used to the deeper bass sound the armor had forced on his voice.
The Muun laughed, "Good! Words are too often not seen for the weapons they truly are. However, what I am saying is that the gifts of the Force are great but the risk is as great as well. Only those who can sufficiently focus on the deeper reality of existence can truly master the awesome powers that are possible with the Force. You, Harry Potter, have that potential."
"But why only now?" Harry asked.
The Muun was silent for a moment, "The Jedi, so-called guardians of the Light teach that you can only hear the Force when you are at peace, when you still what is within you. There is some merit to that but I believe it is a poorly executed concept. For to do it, you are losing your connection to the one thing every sentient being that ever was and ever will be can say is truly theirs: their body."
Harry laughed bitterly, "It may have escaped your notice but my body is one foot in the grave already."
"Exactly!" Plagueis exclaimed. "You are in constant pain. I felt it through the very stones of this castle. You are bleeding pain out of you like a river. If the others were more sensitive, they'd be drowning in it."
Harry frowned at that. He knew Ginny's Ravenclaw friend, Luna Lovegood, practically ran away from him if he happened upon her in the halls. She had interviewed him prior to the First Task for her father's Quibbler. She was odd but hadn't acted like she did now. Ron had always referred to her as Looney Lovegood, but Ginny said the Lovegoods were known for being empathic and seers ran in their bloodline. He'd been shocked to find out that Professor Trelawney was Luna's aunt on her father's side. Maybe she was picking up on what Plagueis was speaking of.
"I don't think having every breath I take feel like I've got nails in my lungs is going to help me master this Force," Harry finally said.
"And that, my potential apprentice, is where you are wrong. For if you have the strength I sense in you, I can teach you to master that pain, make that pain a source of strength. And if you can do that, bind such an ever-present and brutal level of pain, you will have mastered your body in such a way where you can embrace the Force in ways few can," Darth Plagueis explained.
Harry thought on this but said nothing.
"It has been said that anger is a weapon only to one's opponent. There is truth to that but only in the sense that uncontrolled anger is nothing but rage," Plagueis said with distaste in his tone. "Rage cannot be forged into a weapon; it becomes the chains others bind you with and then direct you toward their enemies. Anger, pain, suffering, loss; all of these 'Dark' emotions are a fuel you can tap. And you can do that because you did not let them destroy you. Look at you! Forget what that wizard did to you! You survived long enough for him to do what he did. Do you realize most would have been dead before the sun rose the next day?"
Harry thought about his upbringing. The Dursleys had did everything they could to hurt him, dehumanize him, make him believe he was the freak they called him. He had almost broken, but he hadn't. Hogwarts had been trying to kill him going on four years now. Darth Plagueis was right. The basilisk venom should have killed him before Fawkes intervened; it hadn't. Most would have cracked under the strain of the ping-pong hero one day, villain the next role he'd been forced to play. He was still here.
Darth Plagueis was silent for a few moments before nodding, "Yes, yes! You are beginning to understand. Some are touched by greatness. Some have it thrust upon them. Some, like you have both. However, what truly will make you great is that you will seize the very weapons of your enemies, the chains they tried to bind you with and break them. Through the Force, you will be free. With that freedom comes the power for you to choose what is and what will be. No longer the puppet on a string, kept in the dark. It will be you whose name will be revered and feared."
Harry thought that sounded good. But then again, a trap always looked good. "So what is the cost? What is the price? There is always a catch."
Darth Plagueis clasped his (virtual?) hands in front of him while nodding, "Good! Good! You already are aware that life is a series of trade-offs, sacrifices and often pain and toil. For you, the price is a simple one. One that will be the hardest to accept."
"And that price is?" Harry asked.
Darth Plagueis drew himself up and even only a simulation of a eons dead being, Harry could feel the power flowing from the holocron. "You must walk down a difficult road which begins with a lesson few wish to accept. That peace is a lie."
Harry blinked at this, "That sounds like a simple concept that is far more than it seems."
Darth Plagueis nodded, "It is, my young apprentice. For to accept this simple, but complex concept, you must look at life through new eyes. See that one being's peace is bought with another being's slavery. The calm and prosperity of peace here is always balanced by theft and control elsewhere. Peace is a lie because it is warfare of another type. With words, laws and traditions, control by those in power. Those who had the passion and strength to seize the moment. Their victory, in bloody battle or staid parliamentary chamber, led them to imposing their will. This imposed order is an illusion for this peace benefits only those who have the power to maintain it."
Harry immediately thought of how after his parents death, so many of the elites had bribed their way out of justice. How Fudge had been more worried about maintaining his power that he would have Sirius kissed on sight and Hagrid thrown into Azkaban just to be seen as doing something. Harry thought of the house-elves, goblins, centaurs and giants. They certainly didn't see the current peaceful world as being a good thing for them.
Darth Plagueis sighed, "It is the way of things that there will always be those that peace crushes them, deprives them of things they value. Devalues them or their beliefs. To them, the peace is a crushing hand that keeps them down. There is no peace. Peace is merely order imposed and maintained through power. It is a state that can be just as cruel as war. And you know this, do you not, young Harry? I see it in your thoughts.
Harry nodded. His uncle railed about foreigners, the Welsh, the Irish and the Scots. Everyone that wasn't like him was seen to be people who needed to be put in their place. Peace, for Vernon, meant others had to be kept down, "I understand."
"This is the trap of the Light. They fail to see that peace is a stagnant illusion. In my life, the Galactic Republic had endured for thousands of years. The Jedi Knights prided themselves on being keepers of the peace. Yet instead of warfare and strife, you had economic uncertainty, resources and sentients being pillaged by corporations. Corruption and graft were the norm but did the Jedi care? No, for they had peace. I'm sure you can agree that those ground down under such things, how they might prefer to be killed quickly in war than have their lives and that of their families crushed in the day to day peace which wasn't for their benefit."
"Blood-status is the chains that are used to shackle us here," Harry said slowly.
"Very true. This Wizengamot of yours is in many ways no different from the Galactic Senate of my time. The Headmaster who so cruelly left you, unwatched, to the Dursleys was key to ensuring that the very enemies he had been fighting went free, all to buy some peace. Thus the very people who propagate the ideology which prompted the first war are still there. This peace is a lie for it is merely a pause before war. It is inevitable. Light or Dark, it doesn't matter. There is only power and how you use it. All else are the myths and lies we drape on this central truth to hide it. For few can accept it. There will always be those that have power and those that do not. The truly wise are those that understand that power comes in so many, many forms. Despots throughout the ages always forget this and their "peace" falls in to war only to start the cycle all over again."
"So that's it? I'm not seeing the appeal," Harry finally said after some reflection.
Darth Plagueis laughed, "Order is not stagnation and Chaos is not evil…if you are in tune to the Force. I'm saying, my young apprentice is that too often power becomes the prize instead of the fuel. Power for the sake of power leads to stagnation and death. Those of the Dark fall to this far too often. What you must learn is that you must take up the ways of the Force. For when one truly is one with the Force, one can foresee threats, see the future and see that eventually, everything changes. It is those who cannot let go and will do anything to keep what they built to last past it's time who create the most misery. Creating a legacy that must be forcibly maintained is simply making war on your descendants."
"More words," Harry said crossly. "Why should I become your apprentice? Enough with the fancy talk. I realize to you I'm just some primitive barbarian but I've obviously have something you want or you wouldn't have called me."
Plagueis chuckled again, "Yes, good! Plain talk then. I will teach you the Force. The true power behind your wizarding world. The power the raised up and eventually destroyed Atlantis. I will teach you how to master your body so you can once again rule it and not let the pain rule you. I will teach you the ways of the light-saber, a weapon befitting one who uses the Force. Then, in the fullness of time, you can go forth and choose how this planet shall proceed. As I said, in the end there is only power and you, Haraldr Iacomus Potter have a power few have ever dreamed of! And in doing so, I will have my own revenge on the Sith and Jedi who could not look past their own dogmas to see they were different aspects of the same thing."
Harry looked around the Chamber, at the corpse of the basilisk which looked as it had the day he killed it. He gazed around the Chamber and realized others had been here and had been chosen by Darth Plagueis but obviously had failed to become what he was being offered.
He scowled. Those ancient wizards were not him. None of them had endured what he had endured and survived. Even Voldemort hadn't been chosen to be taught what was offered. In truth, what other option did he have? The Muggle and Magical world had failed him for the last time. It was time for him to show them what their lessons had taught him.
Harry turned back towards the image of the long-dead Darth. He knelt on one knee, "I am ready to learn, my master."
XxXxX
A/N: Again, this is just a series of scenes. A real fic would have a lot of this broken up. Also the scene with Darth Plagueis would be expanded and most of what was shown here said at different times. Also, I would actually show more of how Harry is being treated instead of just him thinking about it.
Ho gaya hai: "It is done" in Hindi
How Would It End? It is obvious that Harry can't just become a Darth overnight. Still, I'm thinking some of this fic would mirror some concepts Darth Marrs used in his fic Revenge of the Wizard (#10912355) in that many of the magical races were either brought from the Galaxy Far Far Away or created by Sith Alchemy.
Bloodthirsty Readers: Also obvious is that a lot of people are going to want to see "Darth Potter" cut his way through a lot of people. Certainly that would be the plan, but you can't make a whole fic of that. (A good bloody chapter of two yes, a full fic? No) So many might not like it if I focus more on Harry starting to build his base, suborning followers and generally causing subtle chaos before the inevitable fight where wizards learn about light-sabers in a practical (and fatal) way. (cue Duel of Fates music!)
The Knights of Plagueis: Who else might follow Harry? Could Hermione become his Bellatrix? Maybe Ron might be broken down and molded into a Sith Marauder type. Who knows? Also, is Plagueis more Grey or is he just leading Harry into his Sith teaching by emphasizing the Grey so as to tempt Harry, who had been indoctrinated by the Light, into accepting? Feel free to send me a PM or review with your thoughts!
