Chapter 7 – Double Trouble
The Weasley twins were quite put out that Harry wasn't planning on attending the party they were holding in Gryffindor Tower's common room in his honor.
"It's going to be the greatest yet!" Fred insisted, shooting some red-and-gold streamers from his wand onto the ceiling. "We've nicked a load of food from the kitchens, and there's a Star Wars fan in Ravenclaw that's donated some Boba Fett posters for us to use… Dean Thomas' making some adjustments to them…"
"I'll catch the end of it," Harry promised. "But I'm going to visit Vader in the hospital wing. He probably saved my life, you know."
"Here, we put together a nice get-well-soon fruit basket for him," George said, patting the arrangement. "For looks only, of course, the grapes have Engorgement Charms in them, and the apple's got a doozy of a Bat-Bogey Hex…"
"Deliver it yourself," Hermione told the twins sternly. "If you're going to be breaking school rules, at least have the tact to not drag other students into your escapades."
"Yes, ma'am!" they replied in unison, saluting.
"Oooohhh!" crooned Lavender, awed, as Dean fixed a poster to the portrait portal. It had once been a stationary poster of Boba Fett in flight, but now it depicted a grinning Harry circling the hapless Muggle, firing spells at him with merry abandon. It was an amusing, if inaccurate, portrait.
"Be back before nine," Hermione warned. "Filch is in a bad mood tonight. Apparently someone gave a candy box to the stormtroopers without warning them that it was a Weasley Skivving Snackbox, and he had to clean up the hallway where they got sick."
Fred and George glanced up at the ceiling and whistled innocently.
"Save some treacle tarts for me," Harry requested, turning to leave. The Harry on the portal poster had just transformed Fett into a tatty-looking crow.
Once out of sight of Gryffindor's Fat Lady, Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his robes and covered himself. He did intend to visit Vader tonight, but he hoped to do it without anyone else seeing him. If Pomfrey or Dumbledore caught him asking questions about Fett, he didn't think they'd be very amused.
In the hallway just outside the hospital wing he spotted a stormtrooper leaning against the wall, panting with exhaustion. Harry wondered what was wrong with him until the man pushed himself to his feet and sort of bunny-hopped forward, his legs stuck tightly together. Apparently someone had placed a Leg-Locking Curse on him. Edging closer, Harry lightly tapped the back of one armored shin and whispered the countercurse.
The stormtrooper, who had been tensing for another leap forward, sprang and landed on his face. He stared a moment at his legs as if expecting them to vanish or detach from his hips, then got to his feet and walked back toward Vader's office, muttering all the while.
Someone had left the hospital wing's door open, and Harry ducked through just as Madam Pomfrey rushed over to close it.
"There now, we're quite private here," he heard Dumbledore say calmly. "We can talk a bit more freely, Minister."
Harry started. What was Fudge doing here?
Professor Vader, Cornelius Fudge, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood near the medicine cabinet, evidently deep in discussion. Fudge had an odd gloating expression on his face. Dumbledore looked grave, and Vader… Harry couldn't read his expression, of course, but he seemed to exude anger and indignation. The sleeve of his armor was still gashed open, but at least his arm seemed to be properly mended.
"What the stang is a dementor?" Vader demanded. "And why does the Minister want one brought into Hogwarts?"
"They're guards of the wizard's prison," Fudge explained. "Just want one on hand while we question this hunter… no telling what the man may have up his sleeve, Muggle or no…"
"A dementor is a creature that thrives on emotion," Dumbledore added coldly. "They feed off of the excitement and happiness that living things project, and they in turn cause all creatures in their vicinity to feel only fear and despair. And I do NOT approve of bringing one into the school."
Harry wanted to shout his agreement but kept silent.
"Now come, Dumbledore, you don't want me to face this hunter unprotected, do you?" Fudge demanded, still gloating.
"Vader has volunteered the services of his stormtroopers," Dumbledore replied. "They should be more than enough to protect you, especially since we have stripped Boba Fett of any objects that could possibly be of threat to you."
"Still, a dementor will keep him subdued enough to make him willing to talk…" Fudge pressed.
"The Empire will interrogate him," Vader interjected. "And our methods will be enough, I assure you."
"Oh, the Ministry will handle this," Fudge grinned. "After all, he attempted an attack on wizards, not on Imperials. This plainly falls under our jurisdiction."
"He is a citizen of the Galactic Empire," Vader retorted. "He is our responsibility."
Fudge's grin widened. "Now I see exactly where Mr. Thrawn was coming from. Here we are, fighting over who has the right to question an Imperial criminal captured on wizard ground, wasting valuable time! Won't it be a happy day when our governments have merged and we can solve these matters jointly?"
"A happy day for the Empire, I daresay," Dumbledore replied. "But a dark day for wizards."
"Oh-ho," chortled Fudge, "so it's not the dead You-Know-Who that we must watch out for now! It's the generous and open-armed Empire!"
"The Empire has never been either generous or open-armed with its own people," Dumbledore countered. "Why should it treat the wizards any differently?"
"Now listen here, Dumbledore," Fudge said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. "You've taken this entire crusade of yours way too far. Not only do you insist that You-Know-Who has somehow risen from the dead, but now you declare the Empire to be our greatest enemies!"
"You only know what the Empire has told you, Fudge," Dumbledore countered. "You have not stopped to investigate their true nature. Do you honestly believe that a totalitarian government that declares martial law at the slightest hint of unrest is an ally to the wizarding world?"
"Oh come now, they're nothing like that!" Fudge protested. "Tell him, Lord Vader! You're an Imperial! Let him know just what the Empire's like!"
"Yes, Vader," Dumbledore replied, leveling an even gaze upon the professor. "Let us know."
Vader looked from Fudge to Dumbledore, bewildered at being put on the spot. He seemed torn between the two sides of the issue – evidently wanting to defend the Empire but not having any evidence to contradict Dumbledore's accusation.
The intensity of the moment was shattered by an enormous man flinging the hospital-wing door open and tromping in, nearly stumbling over Harry's crouched body in the process. Harry's heart leaped. Hagrid was back! Looking rather worse for the wear, but his presence cheered Harry immensely.
"Hallo, Headmaster!" Hagrid boomed, grinning cheerily through the bruises on his face. "Good ter see y' 'gain…" His gaze rested on Vader, and his voice trailed off. "Who the ruddy 'ell are you?"
"I was about to ask you the same," Vader replied, looking Hagrid up and down critically – mostly up. Harry got the impression that Vader was entirely unused to having to crane his neck to look at anyone. Then again, Harry doubted Vader had ever met a half-giant.
"Vader, this is Rubeus Hagrid, our groundskeeper and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures," Dumbledore introduced. "Hagrid, this is Professor Darth Vader, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Right dodgy-lookin' fellow y' got there, Dumbledore," Hagrid muttered, but he reached forward and took Vader's hand anyhow, giving him a handshake that nearly snapped his arm out of its socket again. "Welcome t' 'Ogwarts, Professor. Hope yer likin' our school."
"Galloping gargoyles!" exclaimed Fudge. "I thought for sure you'd sacked the brute! Don't tell me he's still employed here!"
"He is still very much employed here, Minister," Dumbledore replied. "He was merely taking an extended vacation."
"Doesn't look like much of a vacation," Fudge, sniffed, taking in Hagrid's torn, filthy moleskin coat and his bruised features with a disgusted look.
"He spent his vacation at the dragon reserve in Romania," Dumbledore countered. "Volunteer service, you see."
"Ah… well… that's quite… fitting… considering his background…" Fudge muttered.
Pomfrey bustled forward. "Headmaster, the Muggle's awake now. I think the madness and Giggle Charm have finally worn off. It'll be awhile before he's walking, though."
"No rush for that, my dear," Dumbledore told her. "Give him a calming draught. Someone will be in to talk to him in a moment."
"A Muggle in 'Ogwarts?" asked Hagrid. "What's goin' on?"
"We'll explain later," Dumbledore told him. "Why don't you report to my office, and we'll talk about your trip? Minister, I'll be seeing you in the morning – and please reconsider bringing a dementor into the school? I'd hate to have an incident similar to last year's."
Fudge glowered. "It will be the Ministry's decision whether or not to let anything into this school, Dumbledore." He stomped out, nearly treading on Harry's foot on the way.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Vader inquired, "do you honestly believe Voldemort is behind this?"
"I do, Vader," Dumbledore replied. "And I fear for Fett's safety should the Minister bring a dementor into Hogwarts. Dementors were some of Voldemort's most loyal supporters… and they are not above destroying other followers that have been captured by the enemy or turned their allegiances. That is how we lost a key witness to Voldemort's return last year."
"Will you have me question Fett?"
"If you wish. I'll secure a bottle of Veritaserum for your use."
Vader nodded and swept out of the hospital wing.
Follow me, Potter.
Harry slipped after Vader, being careful to not step on the Invisibility Cloak or on the professor's cape.
Who was that man, Professor?
Boba Fett, Vader replied, not breaking his stride. He's a bounty hunter. Your Headmaster is convinced that Lord Voldemort has hired him to capture and destroy you, though it will take an interrogation to be sure.
Oh. What'll you do with him once you've questioned him?
Minister Fudge wishes to contain him in Azkaban. Dumbledore wants the Empire to take custody of him. I favor destroying the man. We will decide what to do after the interrogation.
They reached Gryffindor Tower, but the Fat Lady had evidently gone to visit another painting. Harry had a seat and awaited her return.
So what's the deal with the Ministry and the Empire joining forces? he asked.
I take it you haven't been reading the Daily Prophet.
Hermione does, but I quit at the start of term. I'm not going to keep reading a paper that trashes my name whenever it can.
Earlier this week a merger of power was announced on the front page of the Prophet. Apparently the Empire wishes to reconcile its differences with the wizard's world and join forces with your world. I was never told any of this, however, which is rather puzzling.
Why wouldn't you know? You're the Emperor's right-hand-man, right?
Yes. But your Headmaster is convinced that the Emperor never informed me because he is attempting to sever ties.
That doesn't make sense.
I agree wholeheartedly.
"Who's there?" asked the Fat Lady, reappearing in the frame holding a tankard of butterbeer. "Professor Vader?"
Go to bed, Potter. We'll speak more at a later date. Aloud he gave the password: "Cat's cradle."
"Very well." The painting shifted aside, and Harry slipped through.
"No," Vader replied. "I've changed my mind."
"Suit yourself." The door shut.
Harry slid the cloak off and tucked it into his robes. So the Empire was allying with the Ministry of Magic. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe he'd talk to Hermione later and find out.
"Hey mate, you're back!" Ron exclaimed, clapping him on the back. "You missed it, Fred and George just showed off some of their new fireworks, they're great!"
"But one of the Catherine Wheels just went out on the grounds," Dean added. "I don't think Dumbledore's going to be amused, is he?"
"Oh crikey!" George exclaimed. "That reminds me! Fred, we've got detention to serve with the Headmaster tonight!"
"Again?" Ron asked. "Didn't you serve detention this morning?"
Harry spotted Hermione near the fire, and he moved over to sit next to her. She had her nose buried deep in, not the usual textbook or history tome, but a book titled The Star Wars Encyclopedia.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"I borrowed this from that fan in Ravenclaw," she replied. "If I've got a Sith Lord as my Dark Arts professor, I want to know as much about him as possible."
"Good. We can look at it together. I need to know a few things too."
"Like what?"
He related everything he'd overheard between Vader, Dumbledore, and Fudge, including the arrival of Hagrid. Hermione looked positively furious when he mentioned the proposed alliance.
"There it is!" she snapped. "Proof the Ministry's desperate to shut Dumbledore up!"
"What proof?" asked Ron, who'd been trying to read over Hermione's shoulder.
"Oh, don't you get it? The Galactic Empire is one of the worst dictatorships ever created! They hold absolute dominion over their people. Anyone who says anything the Emperor doesn't like can legally be imprisoned or killed." She flipped the book open to a picture of some monstrous robots shaped like long-legged turtles that were laying waste to a city. "And if it's an entire city that doesn't agree with the Empire…"
"I get the point," Harry replied, feeling slightly sick.
"So if the Ministry can convince the Empire that Dumbledore's a danger, they can have an excuse to arrest him and instate their own Headmaster!"
"Blimey," breathed Ron. "Think Vader's in on this?"
"No," Harry replied. "He's pretty surprised that the Emperor's agreeing to this without talking to him first."
"That's also very strange," Hermione replied. "Vader is Emperor Palpatine's most loyal servant. I don't see why he wouldn't know anything."
"Why's he working for the Emperor anyhow?" demanded Ron. "He's always been pretty good to us here at Hogwarts. He doesn't strike me as the type to work for a dictator."
"It's a very long story," Hermione told them, turning to a page showing a portrait of their Dark Arts professor. "But I'm not going to read it to you, so read over my shoulders."
Harry and Ron craned their necks to get a good look at the book.
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Vader strode into the hospital wing, passing three students afflicted with fevers – no doubt unsuspecting "guinea pigs" for the Weasley twins' Skivving Snackboxes – before coming to stand at the foot of Fett's bed. The man had been stripped of his armor and clothed in a white nightrobe, leaving his dark-featured, scarred face bare to the world for the first time in decades. The only sign that this was the feared hunter of legend was the Mandalorian tattoo over his exposed right collarbone. A Leg-Binding Curse prevented him from getting out of bed, but all the same stormtroopers stood at either side of the bed and guarded the door of the hospital wing.
"Lord Vader," he grated. "And here I thought the Emperor had killed you."
"My whereabouts are none of your concern, Fett," Vader replied. "I have questions for you, and you will answer them for me promptly or suffer the consequences."
Fett laughed derisively. "Unless you're prepared to pay well, my friend, you'll receive no information from me."
"So be it." Vader gestured, and two stormtroopers moved forward with a deactivated interrogation droid.
Fett showed no emotion. Vader figured he was no stranger to pain. But it wouldn't make much difference; the droid was just for show. Dumbledore, who detested the use of torture to acquire information, had instructed Vader to use an alternate method.
"Professor Vader!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed before the troopers could activate the machine. "I will NOT have you intimidating my patients!" She set a tray upon the bedside table. "I'll prepare a drink for you now, Mr. Fett."
"I pass."
"I insist," she retorted. "You need fluids in you to recuperate. Will it be coffee, tea, milk, pumpkin juice, hot chocolate…" Each corresponding drink appeared on the tray as she spoke their names.
"Fine," snarled Fett. "Caf. Strong. No sugar."
One final cup appeared, and she turned her back on Fett as she made a show of adding milk to the product. Vader watched, intrigued. He'd never seen Veritaserum in use before. This should be an interesting experience.
"Here you are, Fett," she said at last.
Fett didn't take the cup. "You drink from it first."
"Oh, honestly!" She took a sip. "There, no poisons or drugs. Take it already!"
Fett drained the glass to the dregs. A slightly glazed look came over his eyes, though his expression was unchanged.
"Now then," Vader said firmly, boosting his words with the Force, "who hired you to come to Hogwarts and why?"
"Emperor Palpatine," Fett replied in a dull voice. Even his iron will couldn't stand up to the double assault of a wizard's potion and a Sith's power of suggestion.
"I received the message when I was finishing up business on Malastare," he went on. "The Emperor needed a hunter willing to chance a trip to Earth – specifically, the wizarding world. When I arrived, he told me that he wanted a wizard student named Harry Potter, preferably alive. He was willing to offer one million credits for a completed mission. I accepted."
Vader nodded, unsurprised. If you were going to hire the best, you had to be willing to pay the price. "Do you know why he wanted Harry Potter?"
"He had an alliance with some wizard or other," Fett mumbled. "Wanted Harry for some purpose or other, he never said. I never met this wizard in person, but from what I gathered, the Emperor considered this man an equal. Acquiring Harry was supposed to be the next step in this wizard's plan to secure his dominion over the wizard world."
This wasn't what Vader had wanted to hear.
"I saw the wizard's face once, in a magic fire the Emperor was using to communicate with the man – if you could call him a man. He had red eyes and a face like a snake's. His name was Voldemort."
That was DEFINITLEY what Vader did not wish to hear.
"I reported to a deserted manor in England to meet with an associate of Voldemort's, one Peter Pettigrew, code-named Wormtail. He gave me the location of Hogwarts as well as a potion to enable me to see the school. I hid for a few days in the Forbidden Forest while waiting for the Quidditch match, fighting off centaurs and thestrals from time to time. When the game was going full force, I struck. Harry should have been easy to capture. I did not count on Lord Vader coming to his defense."
Vader nodded sharply and gestured for his men to leave the room. "Thank you for your services, Fett. Pomfrey, give him a sleeping potion."
"Yes, Professor." She hurried to the medicine cabinet.
Vader left the hospital wing in a fog of bewilderment. The Emperor was in an alliance with both the Ministry of Magic and Lord Voldemort! This couldn't be correct! Vader should have had some notification of any partnership with the wizard's world. But for there to be not one, but two such alliances without his knowledge – and with groups that were mortal foes, to boot – was unthinkable!
Was the Emperor seeking to play both sides of the issue? Did he hope to pit the Ministry against Voldemort? For what purpose? And why had he elected to leave his right-hand man completely in the dark? Was he not worthy of knowing? Or did he think that Vader's loyalty was being strained by his association with Dumbledore?
Peeves hovered in front of his office door, busily loosening an iron candelabra.
"Oooohh, it's Professor Vader, the Animagus who can turn into a tortoise!" he chortled.
"Go away, Peeves," he snapped, in no mood to deal with the poltergeist.
He cackled madly and spun circles around the candelabra, loudly belting out the Imperial anthem and adding his own filthy lyrics.
Vader drew the wand from his belt. He disliked using this tool, even if it did allow him to use the Force in unusual ways. But tonight, he felt a particular spell was just what Peeves needed.
"Scourgify!"
Peeves spluttered in mid-stanza, pink soap bubbles floating out of his mouth. "Not fair!" he burbled through a mouthful of suds.
"If you think it's unfair, you're welcome to leave," Vader ordered. "Otherwise, there's more where that came from."
He somersaulted away, muttering and leaving a trail of bubbles.
Vader stormed into his office, jerked a parchment out of his desk, and began to write an angry letter to his master.
There has been evidence that the Empire is preparing an alliance with the Ministry of Magic. Also, a source that shall remain anonymous has informed me that you have dealt business with Lord Voldemort, including the attempted capture of Harry Potter. I would like to know why I was never informed of either of these facts. Simply because I am on leave does not exempt me from the right to know what is going on in the Empire.
Your servant,
Lord Darth Vader
He rolled the letter into a scroll and pushed away from his desk so abruptly he spilled ink all over the desktop. Not bothering to clean up the mess, he stalked out of his office, through the halls, and up into the castle's Owlery.
A tiny owl circled his head eagerly, screeching for attention. He irritably swatted the creature away and motioned for one of the school's barn owls. It landed on his arm and assumed a dignified pose, one leg extended.
"This goes to the Imperial Outpost in Scotland," he informed the bird, tying the scroll to its leg. "Make no stops and fly as fast as your wings permit. This is of utmost urgency."
The owl hooted obediently and launched itself from his arm, soaring into the night.
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Albus Dumbledore knelt at the bounty hunter's bedside and quietly murmured the countercurse to the Leg-Binding Curse.
"Are you quite sure of what you're doing?" asked Professor McGonagall from nearby.
"This is the best way, Minerva," he replied. "I'd rather have this man as an ally than see him kissed by a dementor… and lose yet another witness." He placed his wand to Fett's temple. "Ennerviate."
Fett's jet-black eyes opened, blinking and squinting. "Who's there?"
"Relax, Mr. Fett. I am Albus Dumbledore, and I'm here to make a deal with you."
Fett glowered at him. "Why would you want to make a deal with a Muggle?"
"Because I am not one who is particularly fussy about bloodlines, Mr. Fett," Dumbledore replied. "Many wizards dislike half-blooded wizards or Muggles in general, but such bigotry is ridiculous, in my opinion." He extended a hand. "Will you take an assignment from a wizard?"
"I'm in the middle of an assignment now," Fett growled. "I don't quit any assignment."
"Yes, Professor Vader made it clear to me that you had taken a mission from the Emperor and Lord Voldemort. But are you aware that, in abetting the Emperor's cause, you could bring about the destruction of not only the wizarding world but the entire galaxy?"
Fett gave him a look that clearly said "I don't give a damn so long as I see cold hard cash for my work."
"I can see I can't appeal to your sense of honor," Dumbledore noted. "But perhaps if I offered to top the Emperor's price – and paid a portion of it in advance – you would be willing to reconsider your allegiances?"
That caught the man's interest. "How much?"
"I can pay you five hundred thousand Galleons," Dumbledore told him, holding up a heavy pouch. "One hundred thousand in advance. I believe the advance alone is worth… oh, I'd say half a million credits."
Fett nodded. "What's the job?"
"Protect Harry Potter. Come to my office once a week for a booster dose of the Clarity draught, so you don't lose the ability to watch over Hogwarts. Keep an eye on him while he's outside – during Care of Magical Creatures class, on his way to Hogsmeade or the greenhouses, during Quidditch practice or games… whenever he's away from the castle. During the Christmas holiday you'll receive a second hundred thousand Galleons, and the remaining three hundred thousand will be given to you at the end of the school term."
"Deal," Fett replied, taking the Headmaster's hand and shaking it firmly.
"Very good. Oh, and this is yours." With a wave of his wand a heavy trunk appeared and landed heavily next to the bed, its lid popping open to reveal Fett's armor and weaponry. "Get dressed quickly."
Fred and George Weasley stepped forward. "Hello, Headmaster!" Fred said brightly.
"Good evening, boys," Dumbledore greeted cheerfully. "Ready to begin tonight's detention?"
"Ready, Headmaster," George said with a wide grin.
"Very good. Now listen closely, both of you. Fett will need escorting out of the castle. No one can see him leave, so use caution. One of you will have to lead Fett out through the secret passageway – the one that goes through the old crone's hump and into Honeyduke's will be the best, I believe – and the other will need to stage a diversion for Filch and the stormtroopers. Oh, and if anyone spots you, you have my permission to Stun them so long as you do no permanent damage."
"Yes sir!" they said in unison, saluting.
Fett slid his helmet on. "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore."
"You're most welcome, Fett, and safe journey."
"I do hope you know what you're doing, Albus," McGonagall worried as the twins led Fett away.
