Chapter III
The Decisions of the Wizard

The walk back to his quarters was tiresome, his muscles ached and he had a major headache.

The Boy of Wizard Prophecy had endured thirty more minutes in the training room listening to how wonderful a dueler he was for someone at such a young age, and how promising he was - comparing him even to Yoda, which peaked his interest. He soon learned that, in every Jedi's mind, Yoda was the strongest Jedi in the council. The diminutive little Jedi Master, who appeared to hold no great strength, was capable of tricks unheard of, which begged the question whether or not he had been a Padawan under the Master.

He soon found out that every single person believed him to be a Jedi Knight, and Harry groaned as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and explained that he, was in fact, not a Jedi Knight, nor had he undertaken any studies - that he was in fact someone who had merely stopped by the Temple (He didn't think any of the people there would believe him if he told them he was flung from a portal) for assistance. He was met with cricket noises, and then outrage from Masters who believed him to be joking and received a snarl from a Master by the name of Took, who claimed him to be heading down the wrong path - that he studied too many of some ancient Dark Lord's techniques and would be the eventual doom of the entire galaxy. Anakin, who had quickly taken a liking to Harry and his fighting technique although still grumpy someone was capable of matching him in skill who wasn't an elite Knight or Master, had rolled his eyes.

It took a Master by the name of Mace Windu, and a Jedi Knight called Ben Kenobi to prove his point, although Mace Windu had a twinkle in his eye that was all too familiar and Knight Kenobi kept saying he was merely to be a Padawan. Harry was then met with applause and questioning of how things were like and why he wasn't wearing a braided ponytail - he was too tired and confused to ask.

He had no idea what a Padawan was, and from facing two opponents - Voldemort and Anakin - who were very powerful, he was drained and needed to get some rest if he was to search for payment opportunities in the morning - he could hardly care what a Padawan was; he was more interested in the soft velvet sheets and pillows that he was coming upon.

Things never did go the way Harry wanted them to, though.

The young prodigy opened the door leading into the quarters he had been granted by Master Yoda, and met darkness. Too tired to change, and far too tired to turn on the lights, the sixteen year old trudged to bed and sank into the covers, groaning in contentment as the softness of the bed soon agreed with his battle-weary muscles and bones.

Close to sleep he had been when a harrumph, followed by "Rude it is, to not meet when said we would meet," that startled the poor boy so much that he rocketed off the bed and onto his stressed back which was met with a howl from the tired boy - he had forgotten about his meeting with Master Yoda. The green Master Jedi chuckled inwardly, and reached out with the Force, turning on the lights to a lower intensity so that they could see each other.

Harry lay sprawled on the floor, a meter in front of the Master Jedi who was sitting with his legs folded and his eyes closed, and his arms outstretched in a meditative state. The boy blinked several times before beginning to apologize profusely, but was met with a hand that silenced him.

"Sorry, you were not! Enjoyed, you did, as did I - you dueling with students your age, and I, watching you duel," Yoda said, laughing softly with a smile. The boy's eyes widened, wondering how he had missed Yoda in the dueling arena. The Master Jedi seemed to read his mind.

"Advantages, there are, to being small. Although, need them I didn't, for you blocked everyone out save your opponent, when you dueled. Dangerous, that is," he said, with a cryptic smile.

"I've had no problem dueling that way my entire life," he said rather defensively. He was tired, and he didn't need to be berated.

"Hm hm hm," chuckled the Master Jedi, opening his eyes and peering at the still sprawled out sixteen year old, "Ignorance, bliss it is, yet forever gain knowledge, we must. Weakness, it is, to limit yourself to only that which you can see. Reach out, you must, through the Force, to find all dangers."

"Reach out through the Force?," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Done it, you have, although instinctively, I believe," replied the Master, "Defeated Anakin, you would have, had you used the Force - guided you, it would have, had you called to it."

"Called to it?," inquired the boy, sitting up and folding his legs, slightly interested. He remembered the brief conversation he had with Dumbledore in which the late mentor had told him that Magic was very alive, "You believe the Force is alive?"

"Mhmm," answered the Jedi Master, "Force alive it is, serves those who call to it - embrace it."

"So it serves the good?," he inquired, quite puzzled.

"Take sides, the Force does not," Yoda replied, "Life it is, gives birth, it does, to both good and evil. Same as Jedi - take sides we do not - sinners and saints, we welcome alike."

"So you are redeemers?," asked the boy with a smile.

"Mhmm, mhmm," nodded Yoda, "By serving the Force, guidance we receive - protect the Galaxy, we can, with her aid. Help all of its creations, we must, for wholly evil, no one is, nor are they without help."

The boys thoughts wondered to the battle with Voldemort he had taken part in earlier that day - remembering the part of his mind that wanted very much to hurt Voldemort for all the atrocities he had committed.

"How do I..." he trailed off thinking of how to get his question across, "How can I reach out and gain her guidance?"

The Jedi Master just smiled, his plan working, "Believe, I do, that you have reached out through the Force many times. Ever, have you done something thought impossible - done a feat that pushes past what normal Wizards could do? Happened, something has by instinct, perhaps?," Yoda finished, with a twinkle in his eye.

An image flashed across Harry's mind.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face.

And another...

For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the diary.

Many images flashed across Harry's mind, his ability to perform in dire situations was astounding. The improvement in aim, the improvement in speed and agility when all hope had fled him save a fool's hope that someone would save him - when he had thought the end to be near.

"How...," whispered the boy, looking off into space.

"Manifesting, the Force is, within you Mister Potter," said the Jedi, looking pointedly at the child, "Stronger, you are growing in its power, with each day - more easy it becomes to control it; to wield it. Embraced it you have, by following the path of the Light Side, by love, by compassion over life of all things - hold so dearly, you do."

"Then have I mastered it?," inquired the boy, still slightly confused.

"Strong, you may be, in it, though no, you have not mastered it. Master it, you do not. Serve it, you do, and serve it you have done without control. Reason, why you cannot feel it flow through you, except when you are in distress or engaged in conflict."

"What do you mean - flow through you?"

"Mean, I do, that while you are skilled in fighting, you do not allow the Force to aid you in fighting unless the situation, dire it is. Ability, the Jedi have, to call upon it, meditate, and embrace it at any given time."

Something in Harry's mind clicked as he recalled his ability to sense beings through the Force earlier in the refresher - how had he done that his mind screamed. "Professor Dumbledore had always told me to find an inner peace..."

"Smart professor, then, Dumbledore is," said Yoda, standing up, "Essential, it is, to be at peace, or dire consequences there are. Peace, I find in you, though all of us, have a Dark Side within us. Forever vigilant, we must be or its lure may draw us in."

"If all you said is true, and that because we hallow life, the Force guides us, than why does the Dark Side always pose a threat?"

"Good question, that is - simple answer, it has," spoke Yoda, knowing this question was coming and knew now was the time to show him how beneficial it would be to become a Jedi, "Light Side, guides us it does, requires love and respect for life it does, while Dark Side, ensnares us, requires hatred and a want to cause pain - anguish. Dark Side, corrupt it does, gives power quickly to those who answer, when beckoned, it will."

Harry looked torn, "Do... do you think I could ever just life peacefully? To not choose a side - to... just enjoy life for once?"

"Question is, live peacefully, can you, without choosing a path of the Force? Chosen, the Force has, to give you a choice - given you the power to change the galaxy. Choice is important, sitting idly may prevent more pain - more loss," Harry looked down, memories flooding his mind, "But what happens when something, prevented, you could have, occurs - do you have the will to allow it? And what then? Is it the Dark Side calling to you - telling you that their lives do not matter?"

A tear slide down Harry's cheek as his loved ones' deaths flooded his mind again, "But why does it matter?," he whispered, his droopy eyelids closing with pain, "Why does it matter when what I've done for five years amounts to nothing - when all that I've loved has perished. What pleasure is there in that?"

"Contemplated, giving up, then, you have?," spoke Yoda, softly, moving across the room and patting the child's arm. The boy nodded, and Yoda gave him a sad smile.

"Sentient being, you are then. Contemplated, giving up, I have as well - still today I do, though I resist the urge."

"But its not serving the Dark Side to give up..." whispered the boy, sinking into the bed.

"Might as well be, it should!," grumbled the Jedi Master, "How many more, had you not intervened, would have died."

"Countless...," Harry whispered, "But what does it matter when I can't save the ones that matter most to me?..."

"Matter, it does, when others suffer from your inaction - Said I have that the Force has given you the power. Embrace, you must, this power. Anything, you are capable of doing, once you choose your path. Choose you must - to suffer pain and anguish and know nothing of love or embracing the Light Side once more, protect those you hold dearly this time, using control, you would."

Harry looked into his hands for awhile and looked up, more determined than he had been a few seconds earlier, "How?"

Yoda got up, and began hobbling to the door, and opened it. He looked back at the boy and gave him the choice.

"Become a Jedi, you can. Teach you, I would. A good heart, you have - guide you well, it does but control, you have none of. Learn, you would, of how to feel the Force. Train you, I would, to let the Light Side show you the right path - the path that will prevent destruction. Teach you how to not bottle the anguish you feel. Give you the ability to move on, to find solitude, yet serve those in need. You will find peace, should you accept - the peace you seek. Not the peace you believe to exist through inaction."

He turned around and moved through the door and craned his neck at the child.

"Leave you may, but remember - the Dark Side grows with each passing day. Prevent, could you, from becoming what many good people have become without guidance? Saved you, the Force has, thus far from becoming what Dark Riddle became - a different galaxy, this is, though. Stronger, the Dark Side is. More easier, it is, to lose sight of what is right - what is wrong. Choose now if you can live with someone suffering as you once did."

Yoda left the sixteen year old child to his own thoughts.

Harry James Potter, sixteen, a boy who had indeed walked the path the easiest. The Force had indeed guided him, kept him from the lure of the Dark Side but he had encountered it. The death of Sirius Black had made him slip into moodiness for two months - he had screamed, cried out that it wasn't fair and harmed Dudley when his anger got the best of him. His pain had only been subdued by Hermione and her constant care for him.

Then she had died.

The pain of two people he loved dearly being lost in so quick a time had floored him, left him without hope, and wishing sincerely for death. The loss of the Weasleys, Dumbledore, and McGonagall had not helped, and he remembered the sword he had brought close to his own heart - the voice inside his head saying end it - embrace death. Embrace it.

Another said revenge. How he wanted to exact revenge against the Ministry of Magic - the cold-hearted bastards who did nothing to aid anyone save themselves. Revenge against Malfoy for walking around freely, unable to harm him without getting in trouble, knowing he had committed killings through the visions he received.

What was it that saved him?

'A child...' his mind answered, as he sank once more into the velvet sheets of his bed after dimming the lights out. A simple child. The laughter. The joy the girl felt at seeing her father return, Harry having served by the man in a battle.

Innocence...

He had lost his far sooner then he ought to have. Did he want any person to feel the way he did? Could he honestly see that girl crying at a funeral, her father - her mother, her husband - dead, later on in life? Could he allow something like that to happen if he could prevent it?; to sit by remembering painful memories of joyous times cut too short?

Amazing...,' he thought as he began drifting into sleep. Amazing how many painful memories were truly bottled up within him. Easily they came, and yet he could file them away. 'What would have happened had Voldemort gotten to me... had his insults gotten to me...' Would he have destroyed him? Kept the rage, and let it slowly destroy all he believed dear?

'It would have...,' he thought, as sleep took him, his fatigued body giving into the delightfulness of a soft bed.

He could not allow such a thing to happen. Harry didn't want the memories to eat him away, and he didn't want to sit by idly if another dark menace made itself present.

In the High Council chambers, a small Jedi Master smiled, 'Hardships lie ahead, I fear they do, young Harry. Though, with help, and with guidance, you shall aid young Skywalker in bringing balance to the Force - you shall bring back the Old Jedi Ways.'