Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by J.K. Rowling and George Lucas, various publishers including, but not limited to Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and Lucasfilm Ltd. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: Crossover with Harry Potter. Harry Potter and his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were accidentally sucked into a portal and dumped into the bridge of Darth Vader's flagship.

WARNING: This chapter is rated PG-13 for violence.


Mixing of Realities -- Chapter 4
Midnight Raid


The Island Fortress of Azkaban

Lord Voldemort angrily paced the length of his quarters. He was a sight to behold. His serpentine face showed his rage: a cloud of dark anger shadowed his features and his blood-red eyes looked demonic in the midst of the inky blackness of his mood. The Dark Lord's fury was so tangible that, if some were present, creatures of the night would be cowed before his presence.

The giants refused to swear allegiance to me. Refused me, Lord Voldemort, the most feared Dark Lord in over a century! he seethed. Worse than that, they even had the nerve to seek sanctuary from Dumbledore; as if they believed that the crooked-nosed, Muggle-loving fool could defeat me!

Voldemort slowed his steps and gradually calmed down. Rampaging angrily in his quarters is akin to a child throwing a temper tantrum. Raging fury was then deliberately replaced by calculating ice. The giants are of no consequence. They are merely savage beasts that have more muscles than brain mass, he thought to himself. The real asset to my cause are the Dementors, and they are already devoted to me. The only reason why they guarded Azkaban is because they have a supply of humans to feed on, provided by a foolish man named Cornelius Fudge.

Lord Voldemort smirked. That poor excuse of a Minister of Magic, Fudge, is a bumbling idiot. Fudge was naïve enough to believe that the Dementors would never come back to their real master. Voldemort relished the thought of shattering the delusions of grandeur of that simpleton. Slowly. And painfully. His smirk widened.

Without warning, excruciating pain raked through Lord Voldemort's body, overwhelming his senses. It was as though an integral part of his essence was ripped from him brutally. It took all of his willpower not to cry out, lest the Death Eaters outside his quarters would hear him. And as suddenly as the pain appeared, it stopped. It was so adrupt that it took Voldemort a few moments to realize that the pain has disappeared as though it was never there.

The Dark Lord systematically looked for external injuries on his body, even though he knew that it is very unlikely that he will find any. There were no aftershocks usually experienced after being placed under the Cruciatus Curse. In fact, the only sensation Voldemort felt was an odd sense of loss, as if a piece of his soul was ripped savagely away from him. It took a few moments before he was calm enough to look frightening in front of his subjects.

Voldemort wanted to know what happened, but he had no time. His Death Eaters are getting restless, so he decided to give them some fun and attack a Muggle town tonight. The Dark Lord exited his quarters with an impressive swish of his midnight robes.

******

An unused classroom -- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

It had no designation other than the Portal. It was built for one purpose, and one purpose only: to bring Balance to the Force when necessary. The Darkness was too overwhelming for the Light to counter-act one time. Five people were chosen to fixed it, and they were successful in Balancing it.

Yet that was several millenia ago. The Portal was nearly forgotten by the descendants of the ones who created it, save for a select few. But the ones who did remember what it is didn't know how to use it. They just know that it was supposed to bring Balance.

Then the Portal chose one to Balance the Force when the Light was stronger than the Dark. The Balance has once again been checked and the Portal was calm for several decades.

Now it is active again, ready to return the current ones sent to help the Chosen One bring Balance to the Force.

******

Severus Snape glided through the hallways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To a casual observer, the Potions Master was merely going about his buisness as usual. But if the observer knew the man well enough, he would notice that the professor's strides were faster than normal and there was a tightness around his eyes that almost resembled pain.

Damn Dark Lord! Severus screamed mentally as he made his way out of the castle. Just why did he have to summon me in the middle of a staff meeting?! the Potions Master seethed as he mounted his broom. He just had to call me just as I was about to give a report! Now I have to endure the looks of pity the other professors would send my way at breakfast tomorrow! Severus growled as he took off.

The broom ride to Hogsmeade cleared the mind of the irate Potions Master, and he was perfectly composed when he reached the wizarding town. Severus muttered the charm for Apparatition and with a pop! he materialized in a dark room slowly filling up with Apparating Death Eaters.

"Good evening, Severus," a silky voice said from his right.

"Lucius," Severus nodded at the blond man beside him.

"How is Hogwarts doing?" Lucius asked lazily as he surveyed the room.

I guess I'm tonight's victim, the Potions Master thought humorlessly. Lucius Malfoy's idea of small talk is infamous among the Death Eater ranks. "Hogwarts is doing fine," Severus said coldly.

Before Lucius could say anything else, Lord Voldemort strode into the room. The Death Eaters all stood at attention as the Dark Lord stood in the middle of the room.

"My Death Eaters," he said softly, looking around at his subjects. "You all have partly paid penance for your, ah, shortcomings" -- here, most of the Death Eaters flinched -- "and all of you showed that you are loyal to me. As a reward for your unfailing loyalty, we will play with Muggles tonight," Voldemort finished with a sick-looking smile. The Death Eaters cheered loudly, for they weren't allowed to make a sport with the Muggles since their Lord's return.

Severus grimaced behind his mask. He had hoped that Voldemort would wait a few more weeks before he would start playing with Muggles, but evidently, the Dark Lord thought that this is a good time to torture helpless people.

Severus futilely wished that few blood would be spilled tonight.

******

Matthew Peterson was an ordinary man. He lived in a thousand-population town with his wife and son and he owned a shop that sells books.

Today was like every ordinary day. Matthew ate his breakfast, pecked his wife on the cheek, ruffled his son's hair, and rode to work. After an uneventful morning, he ate his lunch of tuna sandwich and orange juice and went back to work. Matthew rode back home and arrived just in time for dinner. As always, they ate an ordinary meal consisting of roasted pork and mashed potatoes with strawberry ice cream for dessert.

The events after dinner, however, weren't so ordinary.

The Peterson family were in the living room. Matthew was sitting on his armchair, reading the newspaper. His wife, Anna, was knitting on the sofa beside their twelve-year-old son Mark, who was watching TV. All of them were relaxing after a day of hard wark and they didn't realize that something was wrong until they heard one of their neighbors scream. Matthew, Anna and Mark all jumped up from their seats at the sound and Matthew resisted the urge to cover his ears.

Their front door was suddenly blasted out of its hinges and four people wearing hooded black cloaks and white masks barged into the Peterson house. Mark was gaping, Anna shrieked in terror and Matthew lunged and grabbed the lamp, desperate for a weapon to use.

Hannigan, Campbell, McDougal and Nates all chuckled evilly when they saw the Muggles quake in terror. This is going to be an exciting night. They stalked closer to the Muggles and the Muggle man swung the lamp at them.

Campbell snarled, stepping back just in time to avoid being hit by the lamp. He pointed his wand at the Muggle and shouted, "Crucio!"

Matthew screamed and fell to his knees. It felt as if he was being stabbed repeatedly by a thousand knives and hot branding irons were pressed firmly upon his bare skin. It was excruciating, and every second felt like an eternity.

As Cambell tortured the man, Hannigan and McDougal turned to the woman. When she saw that their attention was diverted to her, she shrieked in terror and ran to the kitchen. The two Death Eaters followed her in, anticipating the rush of excitement they were sure to feel whilst playing with the woman.

Anna just pulled out a knife when the hooded men entered the kitchen. She started to stab her knife at one of them when the other pointed a stick at her and muttered something in Latin. The knife was pulled off from her white-knuckled grip and she gaped at them in shock. She didn't notice that the men moved nearer until she was sandwiched between the two. The man behind her poked something at her back and muttered something in Latin. Her arms were glued to her sides. Anna's eyes bulged and she screamed.

Mark jumped at the sound of his mother's scream and started to run to the door. The man in the black coat grabbed him and started to beat him up. Mark was punched, kicked and his head was bashed repeatedly on the floor. A strange gurgling sound emerged from his throat and blood trickled down the side of his mouth.

Nates continued to vent his frustrations out on this boy. It's this boy's race that made my parents die! he thought viciously. It's their fault! If those stupid Muggles hadn't invented those Gods-be-damned guns, then Mum and Dad wouldn't leave me behind to become an orphan!

Mark finally gained enough courage to protest. "Stop it! Stop beating me up! What did I do to you?" he asked feebly when the man paused for breath.

Nates had gotten angrier at the question, and instead of answering, he started to use the Banishing Charm to bash the Muggle repeatedly at the wall. He bashed the boy over and over, never stopping. Nates could hear multiple bones breaking, but he didn't stop until the Muggle was so abused that he didn't resemble a human body anymore.

Smiling in satisfaction, Nates entered the kitchen to watch his colleagues play with the woman.

Hannigan pointed his wand at the knife rack and said, "Accio!" The gleaming blades sprang out of its containers and hovered above the woman's head. McDougal hexed the knives and the pieces of sharp steel cut through the woman's flesh. The woman responded beautifully.

Anna shrieked again and again when she felt the knives slicing her flesh. Blood trickled down her sides, tracing liquid fire, feeling agony as the blades marked her body. Anna felt a sharp pain on her right hand and she realized that one of fingers was cut off. The discovery made her scream again.

McDougal grinned and continued to puppet the knives. The blades flashed as they slashed the woman, looking beautiful in the dim light of the kitchen. Hannigan joined McDougal, puppeting the knives on the outer fringes of the other man's control. Nates was watching from a corner of the kitchen, mesmerized by the blood pouring out of the woman.

She couldn't take it any longer. Anna's voice was hoarse from screaming too much but the hooded men wouldn't stop it. She screamed again and again, begging for mercy, calling for help, desparate for some sort of comfort that all of this was going to stop soon. Stop soon.... Suddenly, Anna remembered that these were sharp knives Matthew bought a few days ago. If I could just aim my head at that Japanese cleaver... she thought desparately. I'm sorry, Matt, Mark, she said silently. I love you both. After finishing that thought, Anna Thomas Peterson's life ended.

The Death Eaters snarled. They should have used the Full Body-Bind instead of the Arm-Locker Curse. But it was no matter, they were going to kill the woman anyway.

Matthew thrashed around, clawing at his body, trying to ward off the source of his pain. He couldn't take anymore, he just couldn't. He didn't know why these men were here, Matthew has never violated the law in his life. The pain suddenly stopped, and that's when Matthew became angry.

"What did we do to make you do this to us?!" he screamed at his tormentor. "We're good citizens; we're loyal to queen and country! WHY are you doing this?!" he sobbed.

Campbell was smiling when he took the curse off the man to give the Muggle a breather. When he heard the question, his smile disappeared and was replaced by a scowl. "Why are we doing this?" he asked the Muggle who was sobbing. "Why are we doing this? The answer is simple: it's only a matter of survival of the fittest. We're doing this because you're weaker than us. You are not worthy to live because you cannot fend for yourselves. You Muggles" -- he spat the word out as if it was poison -- "are inferior to us. Therefore, you must be destroyed. The world of the strong is built upon the bodies of the weak! If you cannot survive, then you are weak!"

Matthew widened his eyes. These guys are from some sort of cult! he thought wildly. They wouldn't stop until my family and I are dead.... I'm going to die! But I can't! I'm too young to die! We're going to die! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...

Campbell had enough of this Muggle. He pointed his wand at the man.

Matthew saw the wand and he tried to move but he couldn't; his body ached too much.

"Avada Kedavra."

Sickly green light flashed and the Muggle's pitiful existence was extinguished.

******

The scene outside the Peterson house was an awesome sight. If Death had a face, it was this. Trees were burning, the glass on the houses and cars were smashed and dead bodies littered the streets. Children were crying, men and women were shrieking, begging for mercy and teenagers futilely fighting off their attackers.

In the midst of this chaos, a tall, hooded form was standing serenely. Red eyes peered out from under the black cowl, surveying the damage his followers had inflicted in his name. A particularly loud scream penetrated the cacophony of sound and the man behind the cowl smiled in satisfaction.

Unbeknownst to anybody present, two pairs of eyes -- one blue and one green -- were watching the events unfurling. The green eyes gave an impression of resignation and pain while the calculating pair of blue eyes were watching intently, analyzing every action done by the hooded men.

The owners of the two pairs of eyes were oblivious to each other. They couldn't see nor sense one another, which was good, since the discovery of the other's presence could result to disaster.

The clouds shifted and a shaft of light was unveiled. The moon has reached a quarter of its monthly cycle, though it wasn't obvious, because most of its body was still covered by the clouds. The pair of blue eyes looked at the silvery orb and noticed a reddish tint around its edges. Green eyes looked up at the same time and both pairs of eyes shared the same troubled look.

******