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"Peace is a lie." Speech.

'There is only Passion' Force Ghost/Flashback/Alien Language/Droid.

"█▄██▄▄█▄▄█▄" Inarticulate/Creature Roar/s.

"With Passion I gain strength!" Holo-communication Speech.

XxxXxxXxxX

Previously:

"Ravenclaw works well enough." Harry muttered, still keeping his voice to the level where not even Professor McGonagall could hear him from her position less than a foot and a half away from him.

'Are you sure?'

Harry gave a swift, almost nonexistent nod in reply. Ravenclaw would serve its purpose. In that house he would be able to sufficiently enough conceal his inability to perform magic and his mask of weakness would be further amplified with the academic guise of a 'bookworm.'

'Very well then...'

"RAVENCLAW!"

XxxXxxXxxX

It was almost sad really, with just how easy it was to fall into the background within Hogwarts. While he was in truth no-one of importance to the magical world, he had not expected it to be so simple to fade from the attention of those around him. In the Ravenclaw Common Room it was as simple as seating himself in one of the many armchairs with a textbook in his lap. A week into this day to day life of study, classes and 'free' time and Harry was fairly confident that if anyone asked the majority of his house about 'Harry Potter' the most common response would be 'who?'

The classes had been mainly theory thus far; introductory lessons to the first years where the students learned a rough estimation of what exactly each subject was and how it was unique from other fields.

Each class had included its own demonstration of the potential that particular branch of magic possessed and while it was an interesting spectacle, Harry had been mostly focused on the phantom nausea that had briefly passed over him at the very thought of what this 'Magic' would and could do to him were it not for the protective effects of his amulet.

He didn't actually feel ill, the amulet he had created was operating at peak efficiency and safely protected him from the miasma of the planet and the magic that was generated as a result. It was more akin to an amputee feeling the sensations of a limb that was missing. Because he knew that what was being displayed was debilitating, his unconscious mind reminded him of it.

Overall his classes were, informative. But ultimately useless.

Charms, taught by a diminutive creature by the title and name of Professor Flitwick who also had the distinction of being his Head of House, was a subject that was quite broad in regards to its capabilities to hold his interest. Comprised mainly of simple telekinesis divided up into a number of different spells, cosmetic magic and general spellwork that was only considered charms by way of its inability to be applied to other, more specialised fields of magic like Transfiguration or Defence against the Dark Arts.

Ultimately it was a potential avenue for inspiration in his own true interest; The Force, but not something that Harry would be anticipating.

Transfiguration, taught by Professor McGonagall was a subject that held a greater potential for Harry. A class that instructed upon the magical means of altering matter in both form and composition, it was a field that held potential applications in the field of Sith Alchemy given the correct research and direction. McGonagall had continued in her introductory class to touch upon Transfiguration's eventual expansion into the field of Conjuration which was where the applications ended. Professor McGonagall had demonstrated a feat of Conjuration and Harry had very nearly vomited all over his notes from where he had been seated at the back of the class.

The violent and acidic twisting of the Miasmic Force around her had lit up like a match to gas and come dangerously close to overloading his amulet. Using Magic, the cancerous byproduct of this tainted planet to conjure matter was nothing less than a concentrated burst of sickness and death to his own senses.

An unintended lesson had been passed onto Harry at that moment. Beware of Conjuration.

History of Magic was equal parts boring and horrifying. Boring in its repetitive subject matter and bland delivery, horrifying in that the class was overseen by the twisted, malformed shade of a Force Ghost. The remnant of a man who had, in life, held power enough that his death had imprinted him into the living memory of the Force as what both Sith and Jedi described as a Force Ghost; much like his Master was.

Only unlike his Master, this Professor Binns was a man born of Magic and in death was cursed to be trapped within its diseased clutches. Unable to properly engage with the material world and unable to pass on to whatever lay beyond the realm of the living.

Potions was, curious. Overseen by a rather sour looking man, Professor Snape was initially interesting to Harry by way of the conflicting emotions of grief and rage he could feel wafting from the man like a bad smell. That curiosity was quickly soured once Harry was able to bear witness to the man's teaching methodology. There had been no introductory session for Professor Snape's Potions class. The man had introduced himself with a brief speech on the superiority that Potion-crafting had over wand magic before ordering them to begin brewing a potion from the instructions he had spelled onto a board.

It had been, admittedly, quite a basic potion to put together. Very few ingredients with easy preparation requirements and the instructed method for the actual brewing was only three different steps. However, the fact that the man had not taken the time to warn students of the consequences of a single misstep, which had been discovered the hard way when a student had added too much leech juice to his potion only to have the entire thing explode and cover the poor student in a liquid that had provoked a vivid red rash, suggested that the Professor Snape simply did not care to warn them. Or that he was waiting for his students to fail so that he could verbally abuse them for their 'incompetence.'

Nevertheless Harry did make a point to remind himself to learn more into the Magical field of Potions. It was an interesting field of study, even if the man taught it left something to be desired.

Herbology, taught by the aptly named Professor Sprout was marginally interesting. A study of the plants that were found in and around the Magical World. It was a subject that could allow him the chance to learn of the specific properties of various magical flora and, with some more detailed examination, determine exactly how these plants carried the properties they were known for.

His Potions Textbook had already been informative enough to reveal the existence of a plant called a Mandrake Root that had an ability to let out an audible 'cry' that could actually kill any who heard it. If Harry could isolate that ability and recreate it without the taint of this world? Well, there was no telling where that could lead.

Astronomy, instructed by Professor Sinistra was an amusement more than anything else to Harry.

With nothing more than a simple telescope they mapped out star formations and watched the movements of the planets within their own solar system. For someone who's home contained some of the most comprehensive star charts of the galaxy and atmospheric readings of more planets than the Professor could probably imagine, Hogwarts' Astronomy was more entertaining than it was educating.

Defence against the Dark Arts was by far Harry's favorite class to attend. And not even for the subject matter itself. In the week since his sorting, the Sith-in-training had heard the whispered comments regarding Professor Quirrell. Students and teachers alike spoke lightly of the Professor of the Defence against the Dark Arts being a meek, simple man who was more afraid of his own shadow than anything else. A stammering mess seemingly terrified of the world he lived in.

The fact that Harry knew that the man himself was anything but made the class so much more interesting. To watch the man work his way through a lesson knowing that the students he was teaching were buying the facade he was presenting. Harry wasn't learning much in the way of defence in Professor Quirrell's class. He was more learning ways to refine his own facade.

The knowing smirk that Quirrell. would cast his way at the end of class made it all the more amusing.

Since his arrival to Hogwarts, Harry had been putting off his Sith training in favor of acclimatising to Hogwarts. Studying in the Ravenclaw Common Room or the Castle's library instead of taking the time to explore the grounds to locate and secure a room where he could train in private.

Something that he had finally taken the time to do now.

It was the weekend after the conclusion of the introductory classes for all First Year students. Beginning from next week the curriculum would begin moving to a more involved subject matter. His house mates were in the middle of preparing for that; studying ahead and networking with the intention of forming study groups for the future.

As Harry already had his studying schedule mapped out and had no intention of involving himself with any sort of study group; it allowed him the time he needed to slip away and explore the castle.

Thankfully there was an incredible surplus of empty and disused classrooms throughout the Castle. Offices and classrooms that had once held subjects and extra-curricular activities that had since been cancelled at Hogwarts. The thick layers of dust and tattled cobwebs that littered the room gave heavy indication that not only did students and normal faculty not visit these areas, but the sole cleaner of the Castle; the caretaker Mr. Filch neglected these places as well.

Thus far Harry was determining a rotating roster in regards to selecting a room to train in. with so many neglected rooms it would be easy to find a place and by changing the room he would go to for his training, he could avoid any predictability should his movements be tracked.

Harry was making his way down to the Great Hall, having finished assessing six rooms for the future when he felt them.

Three life forms, shadowing him. They had only been following after him for the past five minutes; picking up his trail after he had left the disused south wing of Hogwarts' fourth floor. Reaching out with his mind, Harry used The Force to brush against the minds of these three shadows he had acquired.

Arrogance.

Confidence.

Jealousy.

Aggression.

Fear.

Harry smirked at the last thing he felt from these three. However ignored the sensation was in these stalkers, there was fear within them. Fear of discovery, of retaliation. Of weakness.

Arrogance could be used to predict. Confidence was a tool to deceive. Jealousy could provoke. Aggression could blind. But Fear? Fear could be exploited.

Harry slowed down in his walk as he turned into a long, dimly lit corridor. There were no portraits here, only a suit of armor positioned ever few feet. Maintaining his image of a feeble boy, Harry allowed his feet to stumble and trip him over. A subtle push at the The Force to encourage the confidence of these three and they emerged from the shadows.

"Ought to be careful there Firstie." One of the three called out as he stepped out into view, an amused smirk on his face. "You Ravenclaw's are only worth what you got in that head of yours. Be a shame if you knocked it loose."

Harry scrambled to his feet and spun to face his would be harassers, a mask of fright and nervousness hiding his true disposition. "Y-you surprised me there."

The older student responded with a toothy smile as his two fellows came into view either side of him. "What are you doing out here all alone Firstie? shouldn't you be in the Great Hall eating bird seed with the rest of your bird-brained friends?"

Harry retreated a step, drawing the trio further into the corridor and away from the corner. "I-I haven't made a lot of friends yet. And I'm not hungry so I thought I'd explore."

The trio chuckled, attempting and failing to sound scary and threatening. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the attempt. Mad-Med could sound more threatening when on standby.

"That's a shame really." The leader shrugged. "See me and the boys have a bit of a tradition here at Hogwarts. Would you like to hear it?"

Harry nodded.

"You see in Gryffindor we have to deal with a bit of a Weasel problem. Between that self righteous Prefect Percy, the twin pranksters and the reputation their older brothers Bill and Charlie have created in our house, it's a bit hard for us to stand out. So each year we find a lost little Firstie from another house, and put them in their place."

The three older boys pulled out their wands and held them to the side, in clear view and painfully obvious as an intimidation tactic. "For what it's worth kid, I'm sorry. This year will be particularly bad for you. With the Boy-Who-Lived here, we're going to have to be hard on you."

Harry dropped his mask of fear and frailty. It had been amusing, to allow his curiosity to see where their arrogance would take them. But now that he had learned that these three, fetid wretches intended to bully him physically. To do deliberate and debilitating harm to him?!

Harry's eyes bled yellow as he snapped a hand out and unleashed the might and fury of The Force upon these three 'Lions.'

All three could barely afford the time to widen their eyes in surprise before they were suddenly and violently torn their position and slammed into the wall, the impact rattling a suit of armor next to the bully-turned-victims. So tight was the pressure that held them in place that the three could barely move their chests enough to breath.

Harry grit his teeth as he approached the targets of his ire. The power of the Dark Side was roaring through him. He had not found himself experiencing something like this; bully's, since he had left The Dursleys and Privat Drive all those years ago. It was proving difficult; reigning in his anger and hatred to maintain control over his 'Dark Side Engine' in the face of such a hateful reminder of his life before his Master and The Force had freed him.

Harry indulged himself in a satisfied smile as approached the three older students. The sounds of his footsteps approaching was feeding their now unrestrained fear. That helplessness, the confused fear and pain of The Force holding them so tightly. He could feel it all wafting off of them like a delicious scent.

"W-what magic is this?" One of the Gryffindors rasped out, forcing the words in spite of the tightness pressing in on him.

Harry reached deep into The Force, calling upon its power and shaping it to his will. The lessons of his Master and all the knowledge he had brought with him within the Legacy guiding him to the technique he wanted. Something he had not been able to test until this moment.

Harry reached out with his free hand, fingers twitching in distinct patterns as he guided and shaped The Dark Side of The Force to his will. Pressing forward, he pushed the darkness into the minds of the three that had so selflessly volunteered themselves.

Harry imagined that he could see it seep into them. Like tendrils of black vapor reaching out and slithering into their minds through their ears, mouth, eyes and nostrils the Dark Side invaded their being.

It was a relic of old Sith Magic that Harry had found within the archives of the Legacy after learning of its existence from one of his Master's stories regarding his former Apprentice; Darth Zannah.

Summon Fear.

Sith Sorcery of the Dark Side that forced the victim to become trapped within the core of their worst and greatest fear. An inescapable nightmare of horror that burrowed itself deeper than mere physical sensation into the heart of the victims mind itself to wreak terrible havoc.

Unleashed and enforced by the will of the one who cast it; a mere moment under its hold could leave minor, forgotten damage. Longer and there was nothing but the shattered fragments of a mind trapped in a catatonic meat suit.

Harry maintained the hold he had over these three Gryffindors for only a few seconds. Keeping them, pressed against the wall and trapped within their fear for only a few brief moments. Barely long enough to leave a lasting impression to ensure their submission.

When he released his hold, Harry blinked in surprise as the three boys fell to the ground as if they were nothing more than marionettes with their strings cut. A passing brush across the surface of their minds and Harry frowned in annoyance and frustration.

They were broken. Completely and utterly.

"Tch. Five seconds. that's all it took?" Harry clicked his tongue as he shook his head in disappointment.

He had held back as much of his power within The Force as he could to ensure that there was no lasting damage beyond whatever lingered to their psyche that would ensure they never attempted to cross him again.

His first real attempt at Sith Magic with so little power his Master would have been incredibly disappointed in his ability had he been here, and these three collectively now had the mental capability of shredded lettuce.

"Impressive."

Harry's eyes flashed and he spun around on his heel, snapping a hand out to grasp at the voice that had surprised him. There was a sharp metallic screech of buckling and sundering metal under the powerful grip of The Force as Harry destroyed an unfortunate suit of armor.

"Most impressive."

The voice came from a different direction and Harry managed to resist the instinct to reach out again, careful in case this was another misdirect. When he saw the shrewd visage of Professor Quirrell. stepping into view, the once more emerald eyed Force wielder was glad that he had restrained himself this time around.

"Professor?"

Quirrell. smiled faintly as he walked around the twisted and crushed pile of metal that had once been a suit of armor to briefly examine the three comatose, broken Gryffindor students. "After our first meeting I wondered to myself; why would a boy decide to hide himself behind a mask of weakness? Was it fear that this boy sought to hide? Weakness?"

Quirrell. crouched down and casually backhanded the face of one of the students, only for there to be no response from the boy. "Today I have learned that it was neither of those things, but instead power that you wished to hide."

"Is that what you hide behind yours as well Professor?" Harry asked in return, taking a careful step back to maintain some distance between himself and the turban wearing man.

Quirrell's smile twitched. "Power is not something that is so easily accepted by the mindless masses Mr. Potter. Even less so when one has the will to use it in spite of what society would assume to tell you was 'right' and 'wrong'."

Harry frowned slightly. Despite his positive opinion for his Defence against the Dark Arts Professor, he had expected the man to react negatively to what was essentially the mental murder of three students. "Well given that instead of a trio of suitably terrified but still functional idiots I'm stuck with three bodies that I need to hide because their mind have been turned into mulch; I would say it is not just power that is relevant here, but the ability to restrain it accordingly."

Quirrell. rose back to his feet and waved a hand. The three vegetative students floated into the air gently. "I will see to it that they are disposed of quietly Mr. Potter. It would be a shame to have someone of your, aptitude, forced to leave this place because of the foolish mistake of a few sheep."

Harry sidestepped out of the way as the Professor walked by, the three floating bodies following closely behind him. "Why are you helping me with this? What is it you want?"

Professor Quirrell half turned his head to look at the eleven year old. "What do I want? Not something you can provide me with Mr. Potter. However, if you were to come to my office if you ever have a free period. I would not turn you away."

XxxXxxXxxX

A/N:

First of all we have create page to allow for any who would like to offer support to us in that manner. As it is a gratuity only kind of deal the only benefit any of you would receive would be a 'thank you for your support' at the end of every chapter where we would mention you and any and all other supporters by name.

And so with that said.

Thank you for your support:

Our first ever Patron; to be forever honored and remembered in our hearts as the very best:

ElderLucian.

…

Now then. Not exactly a long Chapter we know. But as with all our posted chapters, we let the chapter go as long as it wants before we end it where it feels best suited. Regardless of it the chapter is short or long.

Hopefully this is well received with much love via any and all means you have available to you; favorite, follow, referral to friends, review and maybe even Patron-ing. :D

as we only have him for a year, we will be working on a form of friendship/whatever between Harry and the almighty Quirrellmort; master of the turbans, devourer of garlic, who-who-grows-on-the-backs-of-heads.

Stay tuned for more of whatever we are in the state of mind to work on next time.