Chapter 4 – The Third Prophecy
Vader's methods of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts were decidedly unique, if not completely bizarre, Harry decided.
The first month and a half of the class was at least halfway normal – they studied the most dangerous curses and jinxes and their effects, as well as spells that could block them or counter their effects. Class time was generally divided between bookwork and wand practice, which Harry found himself thoroughly enjoying. Vader wielded his own wand effectively enough, but the way he used it suggested to Harry that he was unused to it.
Then things got weird.
"Put away your wands and books," Vader announced the fifth of October, striding into the classroom. "You won't be needing them. Rise from your desks and move out of the way." He made a sweeping motion with one hand, and the desks slid into the walls with jumbled thuds.
"Whoa!" gushed Ron. "Did you see that?"
"Of course we did, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "We're not blind, you know."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped.
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Potter, there will be no talking," Vader ordered. "I want all students to sit on the floor."
"Why?" demanded Pansy.
"Because I will deduct twenty points from Slytherin if you don't," Vader replied.
"What's going on?" whispered Ron as he and Harry sat beside each other.
"Got me," Harry replied.
"This is an exercise in learning to access the Force – what you call magic – without using your wands," Vader explained, seating himself before the class. "I do not expect you to be able to do so on your first attempt, but I expect you to make some headway today."
"Why are we learning this anyhow?" demanded Malfoy. "We've got wands."
"Ten points from Slytherin for speaking out of turn," Vader snapped. "You are learning this because a situation may arise in which your wand has been lost, damaged, or destroyed. In such a situation you must still be able to utilize your powers. The training you receive in this class could very well save your life someday."
Malfoy gave a disdainful snort.
"Everyone clear your minds," Vader went on. "Extend your senses. Reach deep within yourselves and feel the power of your magic. Become acquainted with it, one with it."
Harry sat a moment, unsure of what to do. Extend his senses? Feel the power of his magic? What was that supposed to mean? As far as he knew, his wand was his magic. No wand, no spells. A wizard without a wand was a Muggle, plain and simple.
Hermione's hand went up.
"Miss Granger, there will be no questions during this exercise," Vader informed her.
"But I don't understand, Professor," she protested. "What do you mean, 'the magic within us?'"
"I mean precisely that, Miss Granger," he replied. "The magic inside you that differentiates you from those you refer to as Muggles. Your wands are valuable tools, but they do not make you wizards. They merely channel the power from your body, as an electric cord channels power from a generator to a Muggle machine. If simply holding a wand made you a wizard, any Muggle could claim himself a wizard by owning one."
"Oh," she replied with a nod. "I see."
That explained it. But how was one supposed to get in touch with their inner magic?
He glanced over at Ron and saw he had squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. Not knowing what else to do, he followed his friend's example. In his mind he sifted through his memories, trying to find something relevant… anything…
The memory of his trip to the zoo with the Dursleys surfaced. Dudley's friend had pushed him down… and the glass enclosure surrounding the boa constrictor had vanished. That stumped him. He hadn't had a wand, and yet he'd freed the snake via magic. Vader had been correct all along. But how had he managed it?
He focused on that memory, digging deeper, replaying the events of the day. Deep inside him, he seemed to feel something familiar yet alien, part of him yet separate, something that had arisen that fateful day. He tried to concentrate on that presence…
Someone sneezed. He opened his eyes to see Vader giving Neville a cautionary glower.
"Sorry," Neville squeaked.
"Bless you," whispered Dean.
"Shh," hissed Hermione.
Harry closed his eyes again, trying to find whatever that had been again. At last he located it and tried his hardest to focus on it. Whatever it was, it felt good, he knew that much. Once he'd touched it, he didn't want to let go of it. It soothed him and flowed through his body, warming him like a mug of hot chocolate, only much more satisfying…
Something crashed in the hall, followed by the muffled sounds of stormtroopers cursing someone out and Peeves' hysterical laughter. All eyes went to the door.
"Keep your attention on the lesson," Vader ordered. "Distractions happen. Live with them."
Sure, he could say that. He was an expert at this sort of thing. Harry wasn't used to concentrating on magic in this manner. But now that he had the knack of it, it wasn't too hard to find that power inside him again. He immersed himself in it, letting it flow through him. It was in his skin, his bones, his veins… and it was everywhere else too, in the floor, in the air, in the walls, and especially in his fellow students. They practically glowed with it, and Vader… he stood out against the framework of magic like a bonfire. Intrigued, Harry extended himself slightly toward the professor, just to see what would happen.
An answering thrust of power met his touch, and his scar prickled again.
I didn't expect you to come this far on your first try, Mr. Potter. But seeing as you've learned to access the Force by thought, perhaps it's time we had a talk.
He tried to jerk back, but Vader seemed to hold him fast. What do you want from me, anyhow? he demanded.
You are an enigma, Potter. There is something about you. You have faced the Dark Lord Voldemort four times and survived. This makes you no ordinary wizard. Yet I cannot discern what makes you so different from the other students at Hogwarts.
Let me go!
I'm not holding you, Potter. You're free to end this conversation at any time.
He did just that, dragging himself away from Vader's presence through sheer force of will. He drew the power tightly within himself, shaking at the contact. What did it matter to Vader how he'd survived Voldemort? Why was he so nosy anyhow? Harry just wanted to be left alone. And the last thing he needed was to be accosted by the Empire, especially when he already had the Ministry of Magic breathing down his neck, the Death Eaters after his hide, and the Order of the Phoenix monitoring his every move.
"This is crazy!" Malfoy announced, shooting to his feet. "We're just sitting here falling asleep! We're not learning anything! If I wanted to take a nap, I'd go to the Slytherin common room!"
"Shut up," snapped Seamus.
"That will be quite enough, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Finnigan," Vader ordered. "And for your information, Mr. Malfoy, if you have made no progress by this point, it is because you haven't been trying."
"Why should I try?" Malfoy replied angrily. "I don't care what you say! I've got a wand, and it's not getting taken from me anytime soon! I'm not going to learn your stupid Force-tricks and become a blasted bloody Sith Lord like you!"
"Fifty points from Slytherin!" Vader retorted. "Sit down, Mr. Malfoy!"
"Equinitus!" Malfoy screamed, thrusting his wand at Vader.
A blast of orange light flared from the wand. Harry expected Vader to raise his hand to deflect it, but to his great surprise the Sith drew his lightsaber instead. The spell ricocheted off the glowing red blade and streaked toward Malfoy with terrifying accuracy, hitting him in the stomach. Brilliant yellow light enveloped Malfoy, then receded, leaving a shaggy-maned gray pony in place of a Slytherin prefect.
"Whoa!" gaped Ron.
"That is another method of deflecting spells," Vader told the class. "I find it allows me to more accurately redirect a blocked attack. It is, unfortunately, not a method open to wizards." The blade retracted, and he reattached it to his belt. "Mr. Malfoy, you will serve detention this evening immediately following dinner. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle will escort you to the hospital wing."
Malfoy whinnied angrily as Crabbe and Goyle grabbed his mane and led him out the door.
"As for the rest of you, you may take the rest of the class period off. You are dismissed."
Harry stretched his legs and stood. "That was interesting."
"You mean weird," Ron replied as they strode toward the Quiddich field together. "Magic within us… did you actually feel anything, Harry?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Oh." Ron's face fell. "I spent twenty minutes focusing on a funny feeling in my stomach until I realized it was just indigestion."
"At least you're trying," Hermione told him. "Malfoy doesn't appear to care about it."
"He expects to be able to bribe his way out of any fight," Harry retorted. "Watching Quiddich practice today, Herm?"
"Why not?"
Practice was rather miserable, as the air was still very wet from last night's rain and the newest Chaser, a scrawny boy named Capulet, couldn't seem to control his broom. After he plowed into the muddy pitch for a fifth time, Angelina called it off.
"Same time tomorrow," she told everyone. "I want you to show up early, Ron. You need all the practice you can get, I'm sorry to say."
Ron groaned. "Maybe I'm not fit to be a Keeper."
"You did fine for your first time," Harry said encouragingly, slapping his shoulder.
Hermione jogged over to them. "Harry, get your cloak. It's urgent."
"What, another 'spew' mission?" asked Ron.
Hermione glared. "For your information, Ron, I overheard Professor McGonagall talking to Professor Flitwick about the Rebel Alliance."
"The what?" the two boys said at once.
"The Rebel Alliance," she repeated in a tone most people reserved for idiots. "They're the Galactic Empire's greatest enemy. And depending on who you talk to, they're either evil and must be destroyed, or they're trying to restore justice to the galaxy."
"What's this got to do with 'spew?'" asked Ron.
"Nothing!" she snapped. "Don't you two see the connection? The Ministry of Magic keeps in regular contact with the Empire. So Dumbledore must be trying to join forces with the Rebel Alliance in case the Ministry and the Empire ever unite against the Order of the Phoenix!"
"And how does this involve my cloak?" demanded Harry.
"I thought you were tired of not knowing what the Order was up to and why, Harry," replied Hermione. "This way we might be able to get some answers."
"I thought we prefects couldn't break the rules," Ron said.
Hermione only glared. "Meet me tonight at the statue of Caleb the Callow if you want to know what Dumbledore's doing contacting the Rebel Alliance, okay?" She swept away.
Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll never understand how her mind works."
"She's got a point," Harry replied. "I mean, if Dumbledore wants to join the Rebellion, that's serious business. And if Vader finds out, the school could be in big trouble."
"This had better be good," moaned Ron.
-------
"Are you finished?" Vader demanded, jamming his hand back into his glove.
"With the palm reading, yes," Trelawney replied airily. "But I was hoping to squeeze in a reading of your tea leaves…"
"I don't drink tea," he said shortly.
"Very well then. I must say that was an exhilarating reading, Professor Vader. I've never seen a future so clouded and chaotic."
After being accosted by Trelawney after lunch, Vader had finally cracked down and submitted to a reading of his future. Three hours later, after staring into the crystal ball, plotting the position of the planets on the day of his birth, dealing out the tarot cards, and having his flesh-and-blood left hand minutely inspected, it was taking all his strength to resist the temptation to throttle the Divination professor. The sickly incense and heat of her tower would certainly either render him ill or put him to sleep if he was up here much longer.
"I really would have rather read your right palm," Trelawney went on. "It's mechanical, you say?"
"I must be going," he informed her. "Anything else?"
"Only to repeat my warning of a woman bringing trouble," she replied. "I saw it again in the crystal ball, you know."
"I'm sure you did," he retorted, turning to go.
"Don't take it lightly, my dear," she breathed. "The Inner Eye can be a terrible curse, but in many cases it has saved mortals much pain. Heed the warning of the Inner Eye."
"Yes, Trelawney." He opened the trapdoor and prepared to lower the ladder.
A deep, hoarse voice thundered through the room, and he whirled, his lightsaber clenched in one hand.
"THE DARK LORDS HAVE UNITED."
It was Trelawney speaking – but it was a Trelawney he'd never seen before. Her hands clutched the arms of her chair, her entire body was rock-hard and unbelievably tense, and her wide magnified eyes were unblinkingly staring.
"AS THE TENTH MONTH IS BORN THE DARK LORDS UNITE IN THEIR CAUSE… AND THE CHOSEN ONE WILL FIND HIMSELF BETRAYED AND BETRAYER… THE EMPIRE WILL RISE AND THREATEN WHAT THE WIZARDS HOLD MOST DEAR… AND THE STAG AND THE DRAGON MUST JOIN FORCES ELSE BE SLAIN BY THE DARK LORDS… THE CHOSEN ONES MUST UNITE AS THE DARK LORDS HAVE OR ALL WILL BE LOST…"
Her head lolled backward, then snapped back up.
"So sorry, must have dozed off," she said in her normal, ethereal-sounding voice. "Is there something wrong?"
He stared at her a moment, at a loss for words.
"No," he replied at last. "I thought I heard something, but I was mistaken. I'll see you at dinner."
