Chapter 13 – Vader's Patronus

The Atrium was total bedlam when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Fett entered through the fireplace. Hooded wizards – Death Eaters, Harry realized – and stormtroopers exchanged fire with gray-garbed Rebel troops and members of the Order of the Phoenix. There was no sign of Vader or Voldemort, however.

"Harry!"

He turned to see Luke Skywalker, his sleeve still smoking from a barely missed curse, running toward him, gripping a shimmering green lightsaber.

"Where's Vader?" Luke asked once he'd reached him.

"Dunno," Harry replied. "We left him here."

"He wasn't here when we got to the Ministry," Luke replied.

Dumbledore appeared at Luke's side. "I must commend the Alliance for their quick response," he said as calmly as if they were sitting down to supper in the Great Hall. "If you hadn't appeared at our headquarters when you did, we might have been destroyed."

"Headmaster, who was the traitor?" demanded Hermione.

"Mundungus," Dumbledore replied, the slightest trace of a frown on his lips. "It is unfortunate that I made the error of selecting him as the Order's Secret-Keeper. I erroneously thought that no one, even Voldemort, would suspect him. But I'm afraid Lucius Malfoy employed the use of gold to loosen his tongue, and he divulged our location." He shook his head sadly. "Greed is a powerful tool, and it proved to Voldemort's ally… and Mundungus' undoing. He is beyond our help now."

Hermione gasped. Harry didn't inquire any further, but he had a sickening feeling he knew what the Headmaster was talking about.

"Freeze!"

Dumbledore smiled and turned to face the stormtroopers that had gathered behind him, their weapons trained on their group.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he advised.

"Drop the wand," the lead trooper ordered, "and hands in the air."

"As I said, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Dumbledore repeated. "What I would do is look behind you."

"I'm not falling for that gag…" the trooper sneered.

A huge shadow fell over the troopers, and Hagrid's beefy hand came down to grab the hindmost trooper by the shoulder.

"RUDDY COWARDS!" he boomed. "DON' GOT THE GUTS T' FACE DUMBLEDORE 'EAD-ON! 'AVE SOME O' THAT! AN' THAT!"

The troopers flew in all directions, some running for their lives, others going airborne as if they'd just partaken of Fred and George's prototype Flying Fancies. Luke stared at the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, impressed.

"Have you found Percy yet?" asked Ron.

"There has been no sign of him," Dumbledore answered. "But I have an idea…" He went to the still-blazing fireplace and tossed in a pinch of powder. "Department of Muggle Relations."

Greenish flames sprang up. He turned back to the students.

"Take Luke with you – you'll need his aid. Fett, I must ask you to stay here in the Atrium, as we have need of your services." He gave Harry a penetrating look. "With any luck, you can save more than one innocent life tonight."

He nodded.

"Hold on, Percy!" shouted Ron as the four of them entered the fireplace.

The Department of Muggle Relations was totally dark and almost deafeningly quiet compared to the Atrium. By the light of Luke's still-lit saber they could make out shabby cubicles, unlit torches in brackets on the walls, and faded memos tacked to disintegrating corkboards. Everyone in this office appeared to have gone home long ago – unless Voldemort had cleared the department out by simply cursing everyone.

"Lumos," Harry whispered. Ron and Hermione followed suit.

Luke extinguished his saber; the wandlight provided enough illumination to see by. They crept quietly down the corridors, keeping their senses peeled.

"Why would Percy be down here?" asked Ron. "This is where Dad works. He hates Dad…"

"He's just survived an attack by Voldemort," Luke replied. "My guess would be that he decided to go someplace familiar and comforting to hide. After all, I really doubt he absolutely hates his own father." He smiled knowingly.

"What did Dumbledore mean, that we can save more than one innocent life?" Hermione asked.

"He probably means Professor Vader," Harry answered.

"Why does he want Professor Vader back anyhow when he betrayed the Order of the Phoenix every bit as much as Mundungus did?" she demanded. "If he keeps recruiting people like Vader and Mundungus into the Order, there won't be much of an Order for long…"

"Oh shut up, Hermione!" Ron retorted. "Vader was duped into it, not like Mundungus…"

A crash came from one of the empty cubicles. Keeping his wand ready, Harry peeked in.

"Oh, thank goodness!" came an all-too-familiar voice. "I thought I was done for! Hurry up before You-Know-Who comes back to finish me off…"

"Fudge!" exclaimed Harry.

"Harry Potter!" Fudge squawked from the floor. He was strapped tightly into a chair, his skin ashen and sweat-soaked, his pinstriped robes torn to shreds, and his bowler hat crushed and perched haphazardly atop his head. The crash had come from his falling to the floor, as he'd probably been rocking back and forth in an effort to loosen his bonds.

"He's still alive?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow. "I got the impression that he'd been assassinated."

"Well, if no one comes and helps me out here, that'll be more than an impression!" Fudge wailed frantically. "Hurry! Cut me loose before You-Know-Who gets back!"

Harry hesitated. Why should he save this man? He'd doomed the wizard world through his stupidity, he'd tried his hardest to see Harry expelled that summer, and he'd spearheaded the campaign to discredit Harry and portray him as insane. If they left him for the Death Eaters, no one would be worse off. And yet… wouldn't just leaving him be as bad as simply killing him outright?

He stepped forward, wand outstretched. "I'll untie you on one condition."

"Anything!" Fudge promised, an eager grin on his face.

"You admit that I was right and you were wrong about Voldemort."

Fudge's smile crumbled. "Of all the cheek…"

"Sshh!" Hermione ordered. "Does anyone else hear that?"

Harry listened. Someone in the Department of Muggle Relations was shouting "Expecto Patronum" in a half-hysterical voice, as if trying to cast the Patronus Charm and failing each time. With a sickening jolt to the stomach Harry recognized the voice.

"That's Professor Vader!"

"What?" Ron, Hermione, Luke, and Fudge exclaimed at once.

Harry took off running. Fudge bellowed for him to come back, Hermione shouted something he didn't catch, but he ignored them all. There could be only one reason why Vader would be trying to conjure a Patronus – a dementor.

"Where is he?" Luke demanded, running to catch up with Harry.

"This way!" Harry replied, leading him around a corner. A door marked "Lobby" loomed just ahead – Vader had to be in there.

"Expecto Patronum! EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he could hear Vader yell.

Then an awful, blood-curdling scream tore through the darkness.

"FATHER!" Luke cried, yanking savagely at the doorknob.

"Move, Luke!" Harry ordered. "Alohalamora!"

The door sprang open.

Both of them gasped as if plunged into an ice-cold lake. Goosebumps rose on Harry's skin, and his scar throbbed anew. Dementors packed the inside of the lobby, and those closest to the door now turned to regard the two of them.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted.

The stag exploded out of his wand, plowing through the crowd like a lawnmower through overly tall grass. The dementors scattered, and now Harry could see Vader at the opposite end of the lobby, lying on the floor as if he'd just passed out, a dementor gently, almost lovingly cradling his masked face in its hands, bending down as if to kiss him…

"Over there!" Harry shouted. "Get it!"

The stag veered toward Vader, catching the dementor in its antlers and throwing it in the air, much as Hagrid had done with the stormtroopers. Another dementor moved in for the kill, and the Patronus kicked it away. Harry grinned. His Patronus had once faced down and driven away hundreds of dementors in one shot…

But that had been in an open field, he realized. Though there were only about twenty here, it was in a tightly enclosed area. The dementors had that much advantage over them.

Slimy hands reached for Harry. He ducked out of the way – only to run into another dementor.

"Luke, get your dad and drag him out of here!" Harry shouted.

Luke darted forward, sidestepping to avoid the eager embraces of the dementors. He ignited his saber and slashed at one, but the weapon seemed to pass through the monster as if it were a ghost. All the while the stag galloped about the room, hard-pressed to keep the dementors away from both its conjurer and the fallen Sith.

"Harry, look out!" Luke shouted.

Ice-cold hands clamped onto his shoulders. He writhed to escape, but froze when a hooded face bent toward his.

Break…

He was cold… so cold… his head hurt… all was dark and he didn't care… darkness would be a welcome oblivion after all that had transpired in the last hour…

"Father… father…" The voice was frantic, but it seemed to come from so far away. The nagging thought came that perhaps he should answer, but he brushed it away like an annoying insect. He was so tired… it felt as if he'd been sapped dry of all his energy…

More voices… flashes of memory… Harry's shouts… shouts that intermingled with the death howl of a Tusken Raider… the dry rasp of a dementor… an X-wing bursting into flames… his mother's body going limp in his arms… hoofbeats… glowing lava… the eyes of the Jedi Council boring into him from all sides… a blast of lightning to his chest… more shouts, more screams…

"Father, wake up!"

"Did the dementor get him?"

"I don't know! He won't answer!"

"Keep trying, I can't hold them off forever!"

With tremendous effort he forced his eyes open. A face hung over his own, blurred and indistinct… for a moment he wondered if the dementor had come back to finish him off…

"Father!" the face pleaded, and hands shook him desperately. "Father, answer me!"

Father… it had called him father… his son…

Luke!

Everything snapped into focus – Luke's visage, the shapes of dementors gliding behind him, flashes of silver as Harry's Patronus charged around the room. Luke was here, his son, his and Padme's child, harboring no anger or hatred, only forgiveness…

A shadow loomed behind Luke, extending scabbed hands toward the young Jedi.

Without pausing to think, before any dark memories could resurface, Vader gripped his wand and summoned every ounce of strength at his command.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A shape burst from his wand – no vapor, no smoke, but a corporeal beast. It ballooned into a silver-white creature that filled the room with scales and horns and leathery wings, delivering an earsplitting roar and swinging its head from side to side. The dementor behind Luke was smashed aside with a flick of its tail, and two more were bowled over with a swipe of its long neck. The rest of the dementors scrambled about madly, bewildered by the appearance of another Patronus, only for claws and teeth to rend at them from every side. The stag, meanwhile, darted around and under the beast, picking off individual dementors while its comrade handled the heavy work.

At last the room emptied as the dementors poured out the door, defeated. The Patronus gave one last triumphant bellow and lowered its gaze to regard the stag.

The stag and the dragon watched each other for a long moment, silent and wary. Luke and Harry stared, Harry showing some measure of pride, Luke with a wondering expression.

Then the stag lowered its magnificent head in a bow. The dragon rumbled and dipped its neck in a similar gesture. The tips of their horns touched in a sort of salute, and at that contact both creatures wavered and dissipated as if they'd never existed.

The stag and the dragon… Trelawney's damned prophecy…

Before he could complete that train of thought, exhaustion took its toll, and he blacked out.

Break…

Harry heaved a sigh of relief. If Vader could use magic, the dementor hadn't managed to kiss him.

"You're dad's okay," he told Luke. "He's still got his soul."

"What just happened?" Luke demanded, still staring at the spot where the Patronuses had vanished.

"Patronus Charm," Harry explained. "Only way to get rid of a dementor. Looks like your dad finally managed to conjure one."

A shadow appeared in the doorway, and Harry aimed his wand at the intruder. If it was another dementor or a Death Eater…

"Just thought I'd stop in and visit you on my lunch break, Dad," the interloper mumbled in a dreamy sort of voice. "Oh, I'm okay, just got a bit of a headache…"

And Percy Weasley slumped to the floor, smiling vaguely.

"Well," Luke noted, "you found who you were looking for."

Ron and Hermione burst into the room. "You okay?" Ron demanded.

"I'm fine," Harry assured him. "Your brother's not, though, I think he has a concussion…"

Ron knelt by Percy and turned him over, examining him for injuries. Aside from a nicely bruising lump on his forehead, he appeared to be unhurt.

"What happened to him?" demanded Hermione, pointing at Vader. Their Dark Arts teacher was unconscious and bleeding badly from a wound over the ribs.

"Dementor," Harry replied. "Nearly kissed him."

Luke made a face. "That thing wanted to kiss him?"

"That's what it's called when they suck your soul out of your mouth."

His look of disgust intensified. "That's a horrible way to go."

"Galloping gargoyles!" Fudge exclaimed, limping into the room. "Darth Vader's here too?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Ron muttered under his breath.

"Well, jolly good that you captured him, Luke," Fudge said proudly. "I should have realized that he was playing spy for the Emperor all along…"

"I didn't capture him," Luke countered, "and he wasn't a spy."

"We'll see what the Wizengamot has to say about that at his trial…" snarled Fudge.

"The Wizengamot would have some interesting things to say at his trial, I'm sure," Dumbledore said soberly, entering the lobby at that moment. "If the Wizengamot had not been disbanded and half its members killed by Voldemort after you signed the treaty handing the wizarding world over to the Empire."

Fudge stared at Dumbledore as if he'd never seen him before.

"Harry, Luke, I must ask you to carry Percy Weasley into the lift behind you and head straight for the Atrium," Dumbledore told the two young men. "Ron, Hermione, you and I shall escort Fudge out through the fireplace – wands out please, I don't want him bolting on us. Take care, everyone. The battle is still going strong up there."

"What about my father?" asked Luke. "He's hurt…"

"Hagrid's here," Dumbledore replied simply as the enormous man ducked through the doorway. The lobby was getting crowded all over again.

"I got 'im, Harry," Hagrid assured him, bending down and scooping up the body of the former Sith, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of laundry. "Inta the lift with ye, I'll squeeze in after ye."

Luke took Percy's shoulders while Harry grabbed his legs, and they hauled him into the lift. Hagrid wedged himself in after them, accidentally knocking Vader's helmet against the doorway with a resounding clang.

"Careful," Luke urged.

"Ah, man wears a helmet," Hagrid theorized. "Time he got some use outa it."

The lift lurched upward, then announced "Ministry of Magic Atrium" and opened its doors. Hagrid was first out, throwing aside two stormtroopers and a startled Death Eater in order to clear a path for Luke and Harry.

"To the Fountain of Magical Brethren!" Dumbledore ordered over the din of the battle. "Everyone grab hold!" He pointed his wand at the golden statue and shouted "Porteus!" The entire statue glowed blue and trembled, then settled.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Something sizzled in Harry's ear, and a bizarre creature with a dark red, fish-like head sagged against him and fell at his feet, dish-like eyes wide with terror. He backed away from the alien's body, only for hands to grip his shoulders.

"I told you, Potter," came Lucius Malfoy's sinister drawl, "that you'd someday meet your parents' sticky end. It would seem the day has come for that end."

Harry let Percy's right leg hit the floor as he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand.

"Ah, so you'll go down fighting… AUGH!"

A huge black-furred body smashed into Lucius, snarling in rage and latching onto his weapon-arm with ivory teeth. Lucius tried to shake the dog off, but he only succeeded in firing an ill-timed spell from his wand and setting his own robes on fire.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted. "Let him go! Get to the fountain!"

Sirius gave Lucius' arm one final shake before releasing it and bolting for the fountain, a retaliatory spell nearly searing the fur from his haunches.

The Order of the Phoenix and Alliance soldiers clustered around the fountain, grabbing whatever part of its statuary they could touch. Harry helped Luke drape Percy's limp form over the back of the centaur, then clung tightly to the creature's foreleg. A crush of bodies surrounded him, making it hard to breathe – especially with the stench of sweat and charred cloth permeating everyone's clothing. Mad-Eye Moody pressed him in on one side, Boba Fett on the other, and Ron was clinging to Harry's robes.

"Brace yourselves!" Dumbledore advised. "One!"

"Get them!" came Palpatine's savage order. "Kill them all!"

"Two!"

A dozen blaster bolts and killing curses were sent their way.

"Three!"

Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook jerking just behind his navel, and the Atrium, Death Eaters, stormtroopers, and furious Emperor all vanished in a blur of flying colors. They were flying, shooting forward at an impossible rate…

Then the statue landed with a thud in the courtyard of Hogwarts. Much relieved that the ordeal was over, everyone released the statue and began checking amongst themselves for injuries.

"I must thank everyone for their quick reactions in this situation," Dumbledore announced. "As well as the Alliance for coming to our aid. Now if everyone will help transport the injured to the hospital wing, I'd be much oblidged…"

Harry wanted to collapse on the spot from exhaustion. The night had been so full of danger, revelation, betrayal on all fronts… all this time Vader had been a spy… he'd been writing the Emperor with information regarding Harry and Hogwarts… anger began to flare in his chest…

He noticed Luke's anxious expression, and he followed his gaze. Luke was staring at Hagrid, who was hauling Vader in a fireman carry to the castle. Blood trickled down the moleskin coat from the cyborg's wound, and his breathing had an unhealthy wheeze to it.

The anger died instantly. The Emperor had cruelly used Vader, betrayed him and left him to a hideous fate at the hands of Voldemort's dementors. He was as much a victim as anyone else tonight.

"He'll be okay," Harry assured Luke.

Luke didn't look at him. "All my life, Harry, I'd been told my father was dead. If I lost him again..."

Harry said nothing, though he knew very well what Luke was feeling. He'd experienced it before at the Mirror of Erised, when first conjuring his Patronus, during the duel with Voldemort last year… all those times he'd seen a shadow of his father, and knowing that those shadows had been only temporary illusions was almost worse than having no glimpse whatsoever.

He extended a hand toward Luke, and the young Jedi clasped it gratefully.