Chapter 5 – Of Robots, Rebels, and Reptiles
Harry, Ron, and Hermione slunk quietly through the corridor toward an unused classroom, the silvery folds of Harry's Invisibility Cloak masking them. According to what Hermione had overheard, Dumbledore was to meet with a Rebel leader in this room. The plan was to sneak into the room and sit in a corner to watch the meeting. Failing that, they at least hoped to be able to listen through the door.
"I don't think this'll work," Ron whispered.
"Have some faith, Ron," Hermione replied, carefully drawing her wand. "Alohalamora!"
The door opened, and they slipped in, huddling in a corner. This classroom had been abandoned for a good many years, but it appeared to have last been used for a Runes class, judging from the strange markings on the walls. Cobwebs and dust shrouded every surface, and the faintly glistening remains of a broken Remembrall littered the floor. On a cracked blackboard a faint inscription could still be read – "Essays Due Friday – Those Failing To Turn It In Will Be Hexed."
"Cheery place," Harry noted.
Minutes later the door opened, and Dumbledore entered the room, leading a strange creature in.
"This is a private room," he assured his guest. "We won't be disturbed."
"Are you quite certain of that, Master Dumbledore?" the being replied in a clipped, refined voice that straddled a line between dignified and hysterical. This thing, whatever he was, was humanoid and definitely talked like a human, but he was encased in gold metal from head to foot excepting one silver leg. His eyes glowed amber in the semi-darkened classroom, and when he moved strange grinding and cranking noises could be heard.
He's a robot! Harry thought, amazed.
"I'm very sure, Mr. Threepio," Dumbledore replied. "Ah, here's your friend."
Another robot, this one barrel-shaped with blue and white plating and about as tall as Professor Flitwick, trundled in on treaded feet, emitting beeps and whistles and turning his domed head from side to side.
"I'm very glad you came here on such short notice, Threepio and Artoo," Dumbledore told the robots.
"Master Luke says that you specifically requested to see Artoo," Threepio explained. "Though I'm not quite sure why…"
"Because an Imperial is currently residing in Hogwarts," Dumbledore replied. "And a robot will not attract his attention as much as a Rebel leader."
"Oh," Threepio said weakly.
Artoo beeped helpfully.
"He says that he is ready to set up the communication system," Threepio translated. "But Master Dumbledore, I thought our communications didn't work here…"
"Normally not," Dumbledore replied. "But I've been able to create a system where transmissions can be received through a Muggle transmitter – in this case, Artoo's transmitters – and redirected to the Floo network. Artoo, if you will…"
Artoo turned his head and opened a hatch on his dome, revealing a socket similar to the USB port on Uncle Vernon's fancy new computer. Dumbledore pulled a silver pipe from his pocket, tapped it a few times with his wand, and inserted it into the outlet. Then an antenna extended from the top of the little robot, rotating one and a half turns before settling on an acceptable position.
"Pardon me, sir, but how is this…" began Threepio.
"Just watch," Dumbledore said with a smile. With a wave of his wand a fire burst to life in the fireplace. He tossed in a pinch of dust, and the flames turned a brilliant purple. "Now would be a good time, Artoo."
He beeped in reply, and a bluish light issued from the tube in his side. It shone into the fire and revealed a three-foot-tall image of a stately woman in white, her brown hair tightly braided.
"Princess Leia, how good of you to join us," Dumbledore told her, giving a sweeping bow.
"Albus Dumbledore," Leia replied with a nod. "I understand you wish to negotiate an alliance with the Rebellion."
"That is true."
"I thought the wizard community made it clear that they wanted no part in affairs beyond their world," she said with a raised eyebrow.
"So says the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore replied. "And as you can see, I'm not the Ministry of Magic, am I?"
She almost smiled. "No, you aren't."
"Then will the Alliance consider allowing a select group of wizards to be admitted into its ranks?"
"It depends on just how select a group of wizards this is," she said warily.
Is he really going to tell her? wondered Harry.
Apparently so. "The Order of the Phoenix, founded almost twenty years ago by Yours Truly, now reorganized to combat the growing threat of Lord Voldemort."
Her eyes widened slightly. "I didn't think you were allowed to…"
"It's perfectly within the wizards' laws and bylaws, Princess, to speak any wizard's name, no matter who he is. Now, I cannot reveal the exact location of the Order's headquarters, but I can send you a list of those affiliated with our Order if you wish."
She turned and said something Harry didn't catch to someone out of sight. Then she turned back to Dumbledore and addressed him.
"We'll consider your offer. There are several Rebel cells on Earth, the closest to your location being in Spain. You may send your information regarding your Order there via… what do you call them… ells."
"Owls, Princess."
"Excuse me, via owls." She gave a slight bow. "The Alliance High Command will have to discuss this at length, but I don't see any reason why they wouldn't allow the Order of the Phoenix to become part of the Alliance."
"Very good. I'll see to it that your droids make it safely back to you. Good evening, your Highness."
"May the Force be with you." Her image faded out.
Artoo gave a whistle as Dumbledore extracted the tube from his side.
"Thank you for your services, Artoo and Threepio. I'll take you to your ship now."
"That would be most welcome, Master Dumbledore," Threepio replied, shuffling toward the door.
"After you," Dumbledore offered, gesturing toward the door. "And after you as well, Harry, Ron, Hermione. Please don't let me catch you wandering the halls again at this hour or I shall be forced to deliver consequences." He placed a long crooked finger to his lips. "Not a word of this leaves this room. And next time you decide to play spy, Mr. Weasley, try not to groan so loudly when your leg cramps up."
"Nice one, Ron," Hermione hissed as the three of them slunk out after the droids.
"Well, you try being quiet when it feels like someone put a Pins-and-Needles Hex on your legs," Ron grumbled.
"At least we know that Dumbledore's serious about this Rebellion business," Harry replied. "I just hope the Ministry doesn't find out."
"Or the Empire," Hermione added. "Especially Professor Vader. He can be very dangerous when he's angry."
"Talk of the devil," Ron breathed. "What's he doing in Trelawney's tower?"
Vader was descending the silver ladder that led to Professor Trelawney's classroom. The three of them pressed close to the wall and froze, hardly daring to breathe.
Vader began to pass them, then stopped, as if someone in the distance had called his name. He slowly turned to make eye contact with each of them.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger, you have forced me to deduct twenty points from Gryffindor," he told them. "Now go back to your dormitories."
"You can see through Invisibility Cloaks?" gaped Ron, throwing the cloak back.
"No," he replied, "but the cloak does not mask your presences in the Force. That I can detect easily enough."
"Professor Vader," Harry said, standing and letting the cloak slide to the floor. "I think we need to talk."
"About what?" Vader inquired.
"What do you think?" Harry demanded. "You've been watching my every move since the start of the school year! You've read my mind at least three times! You keep prying into my thoughts and demanding to know what makes me so special when there's nothing that makes me any different from… ouch!" He clapped a hand over his scar, which had begun tingling again.
"Harry!" squeaked Ron. "Your scar… that must mean…"
"You're affiliated with You-Know-Who, aren't you?" demanded Hermione, standing in front of Harry and drawing her wand. "That's why you're so obsessed with Harry! You've been sent by You-Know-Who to capture him!"
Her wand bucked in her hand, and it flew from her grasp to land in Vader's hand. "Another twenty points from Gryffindor for drawing on a teacher, Miss Granger. And for your information, neither I nor the Empire has any sort of alliance with Lord Voldemort. And furthermore, this talk about Mr. Potter's scar is ridiculous. How could I possibly be affecting it?"
"'Cause it only hurts when Voldemort's acting up," Harry replied. He pulled his hand from his forehead. "Actually, it's not hurting. More like… pins and needles."
Vader gave a slow nod. "Then it must be sensitive to any form of dark magic or the dark side of the Force. Which would explain your discomfort now."
"What, did you try reading my mind again?"
"No. Simply attempted to calm your mind and stop your hysterical ranting. But I can see that any Force action on my part will only aggravate you." He gestured down the corridor. "If you wish to speak with me, Mr. Potter, it must be in my office. Follow me. Weasley and Granger, I must ask you to go back to Gryffindor Tower. Take the cloak with you."
While Ron and Hermione reluctantly crept under the cloak and departed, Harry followed Vader down the corridor. He had to take two steps for each of Vader's strides in order to keep up.
"So why are you so obsessed with me?" he demanded.
"Because you cannot deny that you are apart from the rest of your kind," Vader replied. "I sense it. The rest of the wizard world has seen it. And the Emperor is most interested in that key difference."
Harry felt a leaden knot beginning to form in his gut. "He's interested in me?"
"Yes, Potter. He has written to me several times requesting information regarding you."
He couldn't believe this! Why did he have to be the one singled out for all this attention? It wasn't enough that he'd spent his entire life being a reluctant celebrity among wizardkind. Now the Empire wanted a piece of him as well!
"Why?" he asked. "I don't know any more than he does. I don't know why I have to be the one who supposedly defeated Voldemort all those years ago."
Vader was silent a moment. "Then that shall be a mystery we both have to unravel, Potter."
Footsteps rang through the corridor, and Vader gestured for Harry to hide himself. He complied, ducking behind a suit of armor as Snape rounded the corner.
"Good evening, Professor Vader," Snape greeted with a sneer. "Who are you talking to?"
"None of your concern, Snape," Vader replied shortly.
"Ah, I see." He gave a smirking grin. "If that's how it is, perhaps I should brew you a Silencing Potion to cure your incessant urge to talk to yourself."
Vader made an indignant sound before replying. "While you're at it, perhaps you can concoct a potion to shrink that overly large proboscis of yours."
Ouch, that hurt, Harry thought, though he didn't feel the least bit sorry for Snape.
"Watch your tongue, Vader," Snape snarled. "You never know when you might awaken to find it removed from your body and pickled in a jar."
"Is that a challenge?" Vader hissed, a hand going to his hip and gripping his lightsaber.
"Temper, temper," Snape chided. "If you really have such an urge to attack a fellow teacher…"
"Don't tempt me, Snape," Vader growled. "Step aside. I have work to do in my office."
"Ah, and now you're backing out of the fight," Snape sneered. "Just as I thought. You bluff and bluster and threaten, but at the slightest sign of an altercation you back down. How cowardly."
The suit of armor lurched, and Harry flattened himself against the wall in case it decided to run for it. But the armor instead hurtled toward Snape like some cast-iron torpedo. Snape fired a Banishing Charm that sent it flying over his body and landing with a crash on the floor behind him.
"Stupefy!" he shouted.
Vader's lightsaber hissed to life in a flash of scarlet, and the Stunner smashed into the corner of a painting, knocking it askew and sending the hippogriffs within it shrieking in outrage. More spells followed that first, which Vader blocked with both his weapon and the Force.
"Now what's all this?" demanded the Fat Friar, drifting down the hall with Nearly Headless Nick at his side. "Come now, gentlemen, we can't have this. We must set a good example for the students…"
"Good night!" exclaimed Nick as a curse sizzled through his transparent torso. "Something's really set Snape off this time!"
"Oooohh, a little rough-and-tumble!" giggled that lover of chaos Peeves, soaring down the corridor with a Filibuster Roman Candle in his hands. "Goody goody, what fun!"
"Go away!" Nick ordered. "This is bad enough without you stepping in!"
"What, and miss the fun?" he demanded, settling back in a reclining position and munching on the end of the Roman Candle, clearly enjoying himself.
A spell whizzed by Harry's cheek, so close the heat of it scorched the hairs on his cheek. He supposed he should be doing something to stop the fight, but what could he do? Besides, he didn't think Professor Vader could be bested that easily.
Too bad Fred and George can't see this, he thought perversely.
Vader knocked aside one more curse, then thrust out his hand, palm out. Snape tumbled backward, landing with a clatter atop the fallen suit of armor. His wand skittered out of his hand and he strained to grab it again, but it shot toward Vader and landed in his outstretched hand.
There was a moment of deadly silence as the two of them regarded each other, Snape lying on his back and his face contorted in venomous hatred, Vader with his lightsaber pointed at the Potions Professor's chest. The ghosts watched, open-mouthed. Even Peeves was silent, still gnawing absently on the firework.
Then Vader deactivated the saber and extended the wand toward Snape.
"It appears that you have lost this duel, Snape," he intoned, obviously satisfied.
Snape got to his feet and grabbed his wand. "Tortugallis!"
"Vader, look out!" Harry cried.
Too late. The Dark Lord's body glowed a vivid green for a horrifying moment. When the glow faded there was no sign of him – save a black domed shape lying on the ground at Snape's feet.
For one moment Harry wondered if Vader had sunk into the floor. That black thing certainly looked like the top of his helmet. But then the dome sprouted legs and a scaly head, the last of which glared indignantly up at Snape with piercing blue eyes.
"Who were you saying lost the duel?" asked Snape gloatingly.
The tortoise lunged forward in an attempt to bite his foot, but he sidestepped easily, slid a toe beneath the creature's body, and flipped him onto his back. Clawed feet scrabbled futilely at the air as Snape paced around his victim, a triumphant sneer on his face.
"I must say I like you better in this form," he mused. "Now what to do with you… perhaps the house elves would like to make turtle soup as a change in the students' diets. But no, there's not enough meat on you. Maybe I'll just take you back to my classroom. There are plenty of potions that require ground tortoiseshell…"
Harry burst from his hiding place. "Accio Tortoise!"
The reptile flew into his hands, and he hurriedly wrapped his arms around him. The gloating look on Snape's face faded in a hurry.
"What are you doing, Potter?"
He didn't waste time giving him an answer, just ran down the hall.
"Go for it, Harry!" cheered Nick.
"Drop that animal, Potter!" screamed Snape.
"Snivellus Snape, he thinks he's so grandy," Peeves sang. "Transfiguring teachers – he thinks its just dandy…"
"Shut up!" Snape bellowed. "Potter, get back here!"
Harry kept running, the tortoise banging painfully into his breastbone with each jolting step he took. His lungs screamed for air, and a stitch was beginning to form in his side. Snape's angry voice, now swearing and threatening to curse him, served as a goad to keep him going.
"Potter, what on earth…" Miss McGonagall's voice had never sounded so welcome. She strode quickly down the hall, the books she had been carrying now floating behind her.
He skidded to a halt and extended the tortoise toward her. "They were fighting… Snape and Vader… and Vader beat him… but he was giving Snape's wand back and Snape…"
"Say no more," she interrupted wearily, taking the transfigured Vader from him. "We've been expecting this for weeks."
Snape caught up with Harry at that moment, still brandishing his wand, a feral snarl on his face. When he saw McGonagall, though, his expression became slimily smooth.
"Professor McGonagall," he said in an oily voice. "I see Potter has had the audacity to feed you some ridiculous story about how Vader assumed his current form."
"And you have a less ridiculous story explaining just how he got this way?" she inquired.
"Certainly. I came upon the two of them having some sort of argument, ending with Vader assigning Potter a detention. Potter retaliated by hexing him, a terrible breach of school rules that I feel will be best punished by suspension at the very least…"
The tortoise fixed Snape with a hateful gaze, his blue eyes sparkling with fury.
"Really," McGonagall mused. "That's a very interesting story, especially since Potter is averaging 'Acceptable' in my Transfiguration class. If he can suddenly transform an adult wizard into a tortoise, he must have made miraculous progress in the last few hours."
Harry grinned. McGonagall had just shot Snape down! Even if it meant admitting to Snape that his progress in her class was less than satisfactory.
"I suggest we have a chat, Snape," she informed him crisply. She handed Vader back to Harry. "Take him to the hospital wing, Potter, and then go straight to bed. I don't know what you were doing up at this hour, but I for one am glad you were."
"Yes, Professor." He tucked the tortoise under one arm and headed for the hospital wing.
That slimeball of a man, Vader grumbled – not verbally, of course, but inserting the words into Harry's mind. His scar prickled slightly, but not so much that he couldn't ignore it.
Why'd you give him back his wand anyhow? asked Harry. He wouldn't have been able to change you if you'd just snapped it in half or thrown it to Peeves or something.
Peeves is dangerous enough without a wand, Vader retorted. Besides, I mistakenly believed that Snape has some trace of honor in that greasy body of his. It is considered extremely low to attack an opponent after losing a duel.
He's Head of Slytherin. Slytherins aren't exactly known for honor.
True. A pause. I suppose I should thank you for saving my life.
I don't think he'd really turn you into a potion or turtle soup. That would cost him his job – not to mention a sentence in Azkaban.
You know as well as I do, Potter, that the man is dangerous. Destroying me would not be below him, I'm sure. I hope this incident has alerted Dumbledore to Snape's danger at last.
Maybe he'll be sacked, Harry thought with a grin.
We can only hope.
"What's this?" demanded Madam Pomfrey as Harry walked into the hospital wing. "Another stormtrooper? Why won't you children leave the poor men alone?" She reached out to take Vader from him.
"Actually, ma'am, it's Professor Vader."
She shrieked, almost dropping the tortoise. "Who did… how could anyone…"
"He was being honorable," Harry replied. And Snape was being a snake, he wanted to add, but he judged it best to keep that comment to himself.
"Whoever did this should be ashamed of themselves!" she snapped, taking Vader away. "Go back to your dormitory, Potter, I can handle this. You're in for a rough night, Professor…"
Vader caught Harry's eye before Pomfrey carried him away. Eighty points for Gryffindor.
Thanks, he beamed, then turned to go.
---------
Voldemort stared into the fire at the image of the Emperor hovering there. "Yes, I know Potter is adept at Quiddich. That's certainly nothing new. If that's the best information Vader has sent you, then I take back ever suggesting we keep him around…"
"There's more, my friend," Palpatine replied with a smug grin. "According to my correspondence with my former apprentice, Potter's House team, Gryffindor, is scheduled to play against Slytherin this coming weekend. And during this time he'll be some distance from his friends and teachers – in other words, relatively unprotected. We have a chance to capture him."
Voldemort nodded. "Brilliant. And how appropriate. The heir of Slytherin triumphing over Potter from Gryffindor at that clash between the Houses."
"I knew you'd approve," the Emperor said with a chuckle. "And I have just the man for the job."
A figure of an armored man appeared in the flames beside Palpatine.
"This is the bounty hunter Boba Fett," he introduced. "For a substantial price, he has agreed to bring Potter to us. I assure you, he is the best at his job. All he requires from you is the ability to find Hogwarts."
"Send him here," Voldemort ordered. "I'll have Wormtail ready a Clarity draught. It should let any Muggle, Fett included, see Hogwarts."
"He shall be there by tomorrow," Palpatine replied.
Voldemort snickered as the two men vanished from the fireplace. All was going according to plan.
