I own neither Harry Potter nor Star Wars. I promise to do nothing with other people's characters they haven't had them do themselves. Of course, for Star Wars, that means I could have the mighty Chewbacca, the clearly most awesome character in this entire universe, so dumb that he trips an obvious trap because he just has to have this suspicious-looking meat hanging suspiciously on this suspicious moon while they're trying to avoid suspicious Stormtroopers.
Harry woke to find himself tied to a large stone column in the large garden behind the Granger house. Harry knew the column hadn't existed there yesterday. Another column was to his right with an old man tied to it. The man was dressed in a tan suit, and Harry saw that while most of his hair was white, a dark patch near his temple that could only be blood had spread. He looked around to find Hermione and found that his friend and her parents were all tied together. They were on the ground next to the large fountain that was the central feature of the Grangers garden. A bulky, robed figure in a black metallic mask was crouched on the ground between the two groups of captives.
Sith, Harry thought and began trying to get to his communicator to alert the Jedi. He then saw that the mask had turned to him.
"Happy Christmas, Harry Potter," the masked man said. His voice was muffled by a metallic echo caused by the obscuring face mask, but it did not obscure the scorn and contempt that belied the words. Not Sith, Harry corrected himself, gaining some mental clarity as whatever had knocked him unconscious wore off. He felt waves of evil coming off of this man, but it was different than the Force. This was a wizard threat.
The man was examining a pile of objects on the ground in front of him, which Harry recognized as mostly his own equipment. He berated himself for not having put any of it in the remarkable Mokeskin pouch Hagrid had given him, which he had aside for later. He saw his lightsaber and wand lying next to his communicator. Hermione's wand was also in a pile. The stranger picked up Harry's lightsaber and began examining it. The young Jedi shook his head at how close the idiot came to killing himself. The probing finger brushed against the activation stud while the emitter was pointed straight at the intruder's face.
The exploring finger was obviously being guided by a light touch as the man's head remained un-impaled. The luck of the foolish, Harry thought. Harry wasted one moment too many deciding whether or not activating the weapon remotely through the Force and being done with this situation would be considered too dark. The intruder removed that option by suddenly dropping the lightsaber in the pile of other items and standing up. He then brought a black boot down on Harry's communicator with a stomp and twisted it into the ground till sparks shot out from under his heel.
"No rescue for you today, Potter," the man sneered. He had obviously determined at least enough about the communicator to know it would allow Harry to call for help. The intruder took a step forward, leaving the rest of the gear behind.
Hermione and her parents watched as their assailant taunted Harry. As soon as the small pile of gear was to his back, Hermione's wand raised up on its own and slowly floated to her. She saw Harry watching her, making sure she got the wand without raising the stranger's suspicion. It looked very much like this intruder didn't know about the Force. She took her wand from the air as it floated to her. Whispering the incantations as softly as she could, she began to sever the ropes that bound her and her parents.
Harry attempted to keep the stranger's attention on himself as Hermione managed to get herself and her parents free.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is not important," the man answered. "All that is important is that you are here. And so is he." The man pointed a gloved finger at the old, white-haired man. The old man simply glared at the masked face and rolled his eyes. "Actually, the old man is not important, but what he carries is," the man continued.
One of the Grangers must have made a noise at that point because the cloaked man suddenly turned to them! At that moment, Harry reached out with the Force! His lightsaber leapt to him, and Harry could not resist turning it on while it was passing the masked stranger. The man proved he had good reflexes though, and barely managed to dodge the glowing shaft as it passed near his head. As the lightsaber returned to its rightful owner, the ropes keeping Harry confined to the column fell away, burned through by the beam of plasma. Harry now stood before the man not as a disarmed wizard, but as a Jedi with his lightsaber in hand.
The intruder turned back to Hermione, seeing the wand in her hand and clearly finding it the more significant threat.
"Most entertaining, Potter. Unfortunately, only one of you is required," the man said, as he sneered at Hermione. "As his Lordship has no desire to exist in a Mudblood body, I suppose that limits the choices."
"Hermione, get behind me!" yelled Harry. The masked man laughed as she tried to run to Harry. She hadn't quite made it there when a surge in the Force warned Harry of extreme danger! The man levelled his wand at Hermione. The young Jedi released his will to the Force as the intruder roared the words there was no forgiveness for.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A green flash of energy bolted from his wand, rushing straight at the terrified witch, who had turned her head away in fear. Harry, however, had not been idle. While the would-be murderer cast his spell, Harry had run to Hermione, pivoted and spun his lightsaber around to intercept the oncoming curse! The sickly green bolt of death was met by the brilliant, fiery green of Harry's lightsaber blade. The curse was deflected back to its origin point. The last thing the man behind the mask saw was his own killing curse rebounding back to him. The look of shock and surprise was permanently frozen on his face behind the mask as the spell wiped the life from him.
When the curse impacted the plasma shaft, the entire length of the blade flashed brighter than it ever had shone before. With a yelp, Harry dropped his lightsaber! The handle had glowed cherry red and was too hot to hold. The blade flared out with a crack as the handle hit the ground. Harry looked at his hand and saw that the pattern of the grip had burned into his palm. He looked around him, confirmed there were no further threats, and then looked for Hermione and her parents.
"Are you alright?" he asked Hermione, who was crying softly and had fallen to her knees. Her parents had wrapped her in their arms. She nodded but was sniffling too much for speech. The old man who was bound to the stone column was watching them with sharp, intelligent eyes.
"Sir," Harry called out. "Are you injured?"
"Not badly," the man answered. "Though I'd appreciate some assistance in getting loose from this rock."
"Hermione, could you help him?" Harry asked. "I need to try to get ahold of Master Toma."
"Of course," said Hermione. She took a deep breath, gave another squeeze to the family hug, and unwrapped herself from her parent's arms. Getting to her feet, she went to free the old man.
Harry looked for his communicator and found that it was smashed and broken when the intruder crushed it with his boot. He took a closer look at his lightsaber. The handle was no longer glowing. Testing the temperature with his fingertips, he found that it was still slightly warm, but had already cooled enough to hold. He felt a sense of loss that he could not describe as he observed tendrils of smoke seeping out where a green blade of light had glowed only seconds before. The lightsaber had been presented to him by Toma three years ago and felt like an old friend. As he picked it up, he flinched as he heard a clinking noise and several small shards of what could easily be mistaken for emerald fell out of the emitter into his hand.
Taking a closer look at the communicator, he saw it was beyond repair without the help of a fully equipped workbench and a lot of spare parts. That would make things more difficult. Hedwig was amazing, but she would still take some time to make such a long-distance flight. He needed to request support from both the Jedi and the Wizards. They had a dead body here, after all, and it belonged to somebody.
Suddenly, the dead body wasn't looking so very dead. Harry felt the Force warning him of danger again as a swirling vapour rose from the body of the fallen villain. Instinctively trying to ignite his lightsaber, he cursed as only sparks, and green smoke emerged from the emitter. Hermione saw this as well and yelled for her parents to take cover. Instead, the parents rushed to their daughter and stood in front of her.
Giving off a scream of rage, the vapour took the form of a cloud with a man's face. Ignoring the muggles, it flew straight at Harry. The Jedi Padawan could not even try to dodge before it flew straight through his chest. As it did, his scar exploded with pain. Harry fought to remain upright, desperate to reach Hermione and get her back inside before the wraith attacked her. As the pain from his scar radiated into the rest of his head, he fell to the ground. He heard the wraith screaming again, but this time it sounded like it was in agony, as well. He lost consciousness while trying to crawl to where Hermione was crouched behind per parents, her wand out to protect them. The last sound he heard before the darkness took him was Hermione screaming his name. She sounded so extremely far away.
Harry woke in a soft bed but did not yet open his eyes. In fact, if you did not know him extremely well, you would be hard-pressed to have noticed the change in his state of consciousness. He flexed every muscle he could without moving it, looking for injuries. He seemed to be okay in that regard. He had a bit of a leftover headache, and his chest felt like he had a sunburn where the ghost or cloud had flown through him, but he seemed otherwise to not be damaged. He reached out with the Force and noted that no one seemed to be in his immediate vicinity, but that Hermione and Master Toma were both near. He opened his eyes and found that he was in bed in the guest room at Hermione's parent's house. Someone had removed his Jedi clothes and put him in pyjamas. By the Force, let that have been Toma, Harry thought. It was morning, but he didn't yet have a good sense of whether one night had passed or many.
Harry got out of bed and saw his tunic and pants draped over a chair. He quickly changed into them. Passing the dresser, he saw his lightsaber sitting on top of it. He left it there for the moment, remembering that it was currently broken. Walking over to the door, Harry opened it as quietly as he could. He saw that Hermione and her parents were seated around a round breakfast table with a kettle of tea and a plate of finger sandwiches. They were talking softly over cups of tea and did not seem to be in danger. His presence at the door was noticed at once.
"Harry!" yelled out Hermione, jumping up to give him an enormous hug. Mrs Granger walked over as well and asked how he was feeling.
"I'm okay, Mrs Granger," he reassured her. "Just a bit of a headache. Is everyone here, alright?" he asked, anxiously.
"We're okay," Mrs Granger answered, "but very confused."
"Me too," said Harry. "How long was I asleep?" he asked her.
"You slept through the night," she answered, and Harry got the impression from the tired look in her eyes that she had sat up all night watching to be sure he was okay. It seemed like such a... mother thing to do. It nearly caused him to cry, and he had to force himself to stop thinking about it lest he did. He did risk giving her a hug, though, which she appreciated.
"Has anyone contacted Professor Dumbledore, yet?" he asked.
"Yes, Harry, they did," Dumbledore's voice came from the kitchen. The Headmaster emerged from the kitchen entrance with Toma Kendet and the old man that had been tied next to Harry.
"We borrowed Hedwig," explained Hermione. "She made the journey surprisingly quickly. I wasn't aware owls could travel that fast."
"Master Toma," Harry said, bowing to Toma. "Headmaster," Harry said, greeting the Professor. "Sir," he addressed the man who was now wearing a clean, expensive-looking suit.
Like anyone else would, he looked far friendlier in the light of day, with the blood washed out of his hair.
"I'm glad to see that you're alright," Harry said.
The man smiled and nodded.
"Thanks to you, Mr Potter," said the white-haired man, "I'll make a full recovery."
A rather tall, brown-haired woman in her middle ages was also in the kitchen. She entered the dining room and shook Harry's hand.
"I'm Amelia Bones, Mr Potter," she introduced herself, "director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Any relation to Susan Bones?" Harry asked. "She's a Hufflepuff in my year."
Madam Bones smiled.
"She's my niece," she said proudly. "She has written to me about you. It seems you've made quite an impression on everyone in the school."
Dumbledore brought Harry's attention back to the white-haired old man.
"Harry Potter," said Dumbledore, "I would like you to meet my good friend Nicholas Flamel."
"Mr Flamel," said Harry, "It's a pleasure to be officially introduced."
"The pleasure is mine, Mr Potter," Flamel said, shaking Harry's hand.
"Perhaps," suggested Dumbledore, "Nicholas would consider making your introduction more formal, Harry."
"I beg your pardon?" asked Flamel.
"I was hoping," Dumbledore said, "that you would consider a teaching post at Hogwarts. I appear to be a Professor short at the moment."
"You do seem to go through them," Flamel responded. "Is it not true that the last one actually died?"
"Yes," said Albus. "However, that problem has been solved. There was a curse on the position."
"So," said Flamel, "The rumour is true."
"It was true," corrected Dumbledore. "It was placed there by Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort."
He explained the name for the benefit of Harry, as Nicholas was well aware of Voldemort's true identity.
"It was a rather simple curse," Dumbledore continued, "but extremely powerful."
"How did he set it up?" Flamel asked, interested in spite of himself.
"Oh, it was most elegant," answered Albus. "I refused to offer him the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, so no one who was appointed would be able to hold it except himself."
"Ahhh…," Flamel exclaimed, "and since he had possessed Professor Quirrell and occupied his body while the class was taught, the curse considered the exit condition satisfied."
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "Since the curse is now broken, you may teach as long as you wish."
"There's the sticky bit, though," said Flamel. "I do not wish to."
Dumbledore frowned.
"I'll give you credit, Albus," said Flamel, "from what I have heard, you have been doing much better in the past few months. I understand you've made some good strides in getting your staff back under control. However, you still have much further to go before you, or your school will meet my educational standards. I also refuse to operate under the draconian restrictions your government forces on you."
"I see," said Dumbledore, disappointed, but not too surprised.
Flamel turned back to Harry.
"I must say, Mr Potter," Flamel said, "I've heard a lot of good things about you, and I'm happy you're again amongst us. I remember corresponding with your mother when she was a student at Hogwarts. She asked the most curious questions. I've kept the letters, and would be happy to provide you with them if you wish."
"Yes, please," said Harry. He had always been curious about his parents, and to have a letter in her own writing would be a connection to her that he would treasure. He really hoped that Toma wouldn't order him to refuse them. The Jedi were supposed to leave all connections behind them.
"It's the least I can do," said Flamel. "I have no doubt that without your intervention, last night would have been a rather messy situation."
"Your talent for understatement has lost none of its potency over the years," said Headmaster Dumbledore. "I'm glad you've finally come around and made the right choice on the stone."
"Have I ever told you that you are insufferable when you're saying 'I told you so?'" Flamel fired back.
"Several times, at least," answered the Headmaster, "and you are hardly unique in that respect."
"I'm sorry," interjected Harry, "what's going on?"
"My apologies, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Nicholas and I were merely continuing a conversation we have been having for many years, now."
"Conversation," Flamel snorted dismissively, "you mean argument! You've been haranguing me for decades about that stone. I've already told you I've agreed, Albus," said Flamel, irritably. "Since you apparently cannot stop Voldemort, I must destroy my stone."
"Please calm down," said Madam Bones. "There's no need to argue here."
"What stone?" asked Harry.
"Well," said Dumbledore, "that requires a little history. Perhaps we should all sit down."
Sitting around the dining room table, Dumbledore had explained the basic history of Voldemort's rise to power, and how close he came to winning. He hinted about the reason Voldemort had killed Harry's parents, and why he tried to kill the infant Harry. He did not go into details about the prophecy but implied that Voldemort had received information from somewhere that Harry would be powerful enough to defeat him. He detailed the actions that had been taken that night, right up to the point where Toma took Harry.
"With you gone, and Voldemort alone and friendless, ten long years passed. Which brings us to the Stone. As I'm sure you'll remember, Harry," Dumbledore explained, "at the beginning of the school year the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side was out of bounds." Harry nodded. "Just before term start, I learned of a plot by the remnant of Voldemort to gain control of the Philosopher's Stone."
"How did you find that out if Voldemort was alone?" asked Harry.
"I'm sorry?" asked Dumbledore, confused.
"You said Voldemort was alone and friendless," Harry said, "so how did you find out he was after the stone?"
Dumbledore did not immediately answer. At that point, Hermione chimed in.
"For that matter," she asked, "how do you know exactly what happened when Voldemort attacked the Potters? Was there a witness?"
"Well, no," Dumbledore admitted. "Much of this is only conjecture, based on his past behaviours and what we found after the fact. I believe my guesses are an accurate representation of the truth, however."
Madam Bones looked shocked.
"How much of what you know about that night is only conjecture, and how much is based on observation?" she asked.
Dumbledore was uncomfortable with this line of questioning, as he knew that most of what he always touted as the truth was really only guesswork. He still was confident his guesses were close enough to the truth to be quite reliable, but he also knew Madam Bones was a stickler for procedure. He decided to answer Hermione's questions with the hope that no one remembered Harry's question or the fact that he never answered it.
"As I admitted, there were no witnesses present that night, but as he was not interested in taking any steps to cover his tracks on the way into the house, and there was no one to cover his tracks after, we were able to follow the magical clues and make our deductions."
"Why am I just learning of this now?" asked Madam Bones, angrily. "Merlin, Albus, people went to prison over that night!"
Dumbledore winced as she brought that up. He did not want Harry to find out about Sirius yet. The man was dangerous.
"Getting back on track," Dumbledore said, trying to wrest control of the conversation again. "We determined the Stone was in danger through the use of methods I will not discuss here. Nicholas and I decided it would be best if the Stone were to be placed in Gringotts for safekeeping. Again, information was obtained that the Stone was in danger, so it was moved into Hogwarts. I did not believe Voldemort would dare attempt to penetrate the castle."
Dumbledore was toeing a line here. He was giving out information that was potentially damaging to himself. At the same time, he knew that his actions at the time were incorrect. If he went too far down this road, though, he would be removed from the situation entirely. That could have disastrous consequences.
"What do you think would have happened if he had gotten the Stone?" asked Harry.
Dumbledore was relieved to be back onto the topic of the Stone, and off the topic of how Voldemort knew of it.
"Again, I can only guess. I do know that when Tom Riddle, who later became Voldemort, was at Hogwarts, he was fascinated by the legends of the Stone, as have been so many others. A book was found in the restricted section of the Hogwarts Library with his name down as having checked it out while still a student. In that book, a ritual was noted that, if performed by a loyal servant, would allow Lord Voldemort to permanently take residence in a living body. He first needed a loyal servant."
"Yaxley," Madam Bones said.
"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "Corban Yaxley was a suspected former Death Eater who got out of any punishment by claiming he was under the influence of the Imperius Curse." He needed to pause here to explain 'Death Eater,' and 'Imperius Curse' to those who did not yet know. "The description of the wraith you saw, leaving Yaxley's body was the same as I witnessed leaving the body of Professor Quirrell. He was possessing Yaxley, and once he had the Stone that he would take from Nicholas, all he needed was a suitable body to perform the ritual. He chose you."
"Voldemort had found out you were going to be staying here at the Grangers." Dumbledore waved his hand around to indicate the house around them. "Again, it is only a suspicion, but I suspect a student probably leaked the information and it reached Voldemort by some means I do not know. He, therefore, knew where you were and when you were there. If he had succeeded, your soul would have been forced out of your body. Voldemort would then take up permanent residence in its place." A chill went through Harry.
"What would have happened then?" he asked, sounding far more like a normal eleven-year-old than he usually did.
"I am afraid," explained Dumbledore, "that without the precautions Voldemort had already taken, the soul cannot exist without the body. You may have lingered for a few minutes at most, but would have dissipated eventually."
"And everyone else?" Harry asked, knowing what the answer would be.
"Voldemort was never merciful to Muggles," answered Dumbledore. "Or to Muggleborns."
"What if he were to obtain a different stone, sir," Harry asked.
"The only Philosopher's Stone known to exist belongs to Nicholas," said Dumbledore. "We have, just this morning, finally agreed that it should be destroyed. That will end one path for a return for Voldemort."
"Let's get this over with," said Nicholas. Flamel laid down a large, ruby-coloured gemstone on the table. He stared at it forlornly for a moment, then struck it once in the middle with his wand. It fell to two pieces and laid there on the table.
"Well," said Flamel, "that's that." He looked very sad.
"It was the right decision, Nicholas," insisted Dumbledore "especially in light of Voldemort's interest in it."
"You never wanted me to keep it, Albus," Nicholas said, sounding suddenly tired. "This was just your latest excuse."
"The threat, as I hardly think I need remind you, was real," retorted Dumbledore. "But yes, I have been opposed to you possessing the Stone for many years now. I've always thought that it was not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as one could want. It will never cease to surprise me how people have a knack for choosing precisely that which is worst for them."
"Try telling that to the sick and penniless," responded Flamel, his voice like acid. "Did you think I was amassing mountains of gold for myself? That I was keeping myself and Perenelle alive because we fear death? The Stone creates life. We have a hospital, for Merlin's sake, do you have any idea how far back this is going to set us?"
"Sometimes," Dumbledore said, "for…"
"If you utter the words 'Greater Good' at me," interrupted Flamel, "I swear to God, I will shove one half of this stone up each one of your nostrils!"
Time seemed to cease, as Dumbledore gaped at Flamel, his jaw hanging open. The eyebrows of everyone present, Muggle, magical, and Jedi alike, disappeared under hairlines.
"I only agreed to this," continued Flamel, "because apparently, you and your Order of the Pigeon or whatever, is incapable of keeping the Stone out of his hands. Certainly, I cannot keep him and his followers at bay on my own. Kindly don't try to get me to believe in this world of yours where death is good, and money is bad." Dumbledore's eyes flashed in anger.
"Of course I do not think that Nicholas, and I'll thank you not to imply otherwise. You know perfectly well I was referring to excessive wealth that does no good for anyone. And I do not fear death, either, but I do fear the lengths some have gone to in order to stay past their time."
Flamel looked at Dumbledore with a glare that would turn a pond of water to ice.
"I will assume for the sake of what remains of our friendship that you are referring to Voldemort, and not to my wife or me," the old alchemist said. His voice brooked no room for argument. "I think it is high time we stopped being so unspeakably rude in our host's home. This conversation is at an end, Albus. The Stone is gone, and I insist that you never bring it up with me again!"
Dumbledore nodded. He knew he should not have lost his temper.
"I am sorry, my friend, " Dumbledore said. "I forgot my place, as well as where we are. As always, if you need me, or the Order of the Phoenix, we will be at your disposal."
He turned to Mr and Mrs Granger, who were staring with wide eyes at the two old wizards having a massive row in their living room.
"I do apologize to the both of you as well," Dumbledore said to Hermione's parents. "If you will all excuse me, I will return to Hogwarts."
He faced Harry and Hermione, told them to enjoy what remained of their break, and departed.
Amelia Bones left shortly after. She had all the evidence she needed to posthumously hang Yaxley. She did not like most of the revelations that came out about how much Dumbledore had known, or as she now knew, had not known. She was going to have to start carefully and quietly going through some old files. It would be difficult doing so without raising suspicions, and would probably keep her busy for a long time.
After Dumbledore left, (or slunk away with his tail between his legs as Dan Granger later described it,) the Grangers insisted on having Mr Flamel stay for tea. There were a few things they wanted some clarification on without the Headmaster around to object. They felt somewhat misled by tales of how Hogwarts was the premier school in the world for magic. It now it sounded very much like it was not. Also, Daniel Granger had an idea after seeing the pieces of the Philosopher's Stone, but he had no idea if it would work or not. Regular magic was way over his head. Add in this Jedi stuff, and he felt like he was in a movie. He had picked Harry up off of the ground and placed him in bed after that ghost or whatever had flown through him. Emma had brought in the boy's lightsaber, knowing he would want to see it as soon as he woke. Dan had not missed the sound of the shattered crystal when she put it on the dresser.
Harry had not gone into tremendous detail when describing the parts of a lightsaber earlier in the week, but he had mentioned something called a focusing crystal. He was certain he was just a silly muggle, but if it worked, he might be able to supply Harry with that special Christmas present he joked about on Christmas Day. He did, after all, owe the boy.
"Mr Flamel," Dan said after tea and cake had been served, "are the pieces of the stone worth anything?"
"I am afraid not," answered the alchemist. "At least not as far as alchemy is concerned. They could probably be made into jewellery, I suppose. I will not bore you with details, but a vital component of the Philosopher's Stone is a naturally grown ruby of at least twenty carats. With the Stone split in two, it will never work again."
"I'm wondering if they might have any other uses and if you'd be willing to sell them to me if the Jedi think it will work," said Mr Granger. He turned to Harry. "Your lightsaber, Harry. We only brought it in for you, but we know it needs at least a new crystal. Is there any way you could use the pieces to the Stone if we can buy them for you?" Harry looked at Toma, who looked thoughtful.
"It is certainly possible," Toma said. "While Ilum crystals are the most popular, they are certainly not the only choices available to focus a lightsaber blade. It is worth the attempt if the stones can be obtained for a reasonable price."
"I owe Harry far more than just a few pieces of rock that are now worthless to me anyway," Nicholas said. "I will gift them to you, Harry," Flamel said as he handed the pieces to the boy. "If you don't mind, though, I'd like the opportunity to examine the crystal that's in your lightsaber. I would also like to observe how you use the stones to replace it. If whatever you're going to try does not work, I also might be able to come up with something you haven't thought of. There are plenty of crystal forms on Earth, and I am an alchemist, after all."
"Mr Flamel, may I ask you a question?" Hermione inquired. Harry and Flamel were working next to each other at the Grangers breakfast table, which had been temporarily converted to a workbench. Harry was cleaning every speck of crystal out of his lightsaber hilt. Nicholas was examining the green crystal under a small microscope Dan Granger had lent him. Hermione was watching everything.
"Please, call me Nicholas," answered Flamel. "What would you like to know?"
"I'm sorry if this is prying, but in everything I've ever heard or read about you where you are also mentioned with Headmaster Dumbledore's name, you are described as being great friends."
"And you'd like to know why I treated my 'great friend' in such a… brusque manner, shall we say?" Nicholas asked the question for Hermione, who was trying to find a diplomatic way to put that very question.
"Well, yes." confirmed the girl.
"I am hesitant to say anything," said Flamel, "as I do not wish to colour your opinion of the man. You do still need to show him respect as the Headmaster of your school, after all." He sighed, then shrugged his shoulders. "Let me ask you a question, Miss Granger. Have you ever had someone hang on to your coat tails so hard that it became impossible to shake them off?" Hermione shook her head.
"I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean, but I don't think so," she replied.
"I envy you, then," Nicholas continued. "After more than 600 years of alchemy work, I've had many of them. All of them extremely intelligent, all of them very ambitious, all of them trying to emulate what I accomplished. Dumbledore is merely the latest and most stubborn of them." He shook his head slowly. "Treating them with respect only eggs them on, it seems, and then I have the added headache of the press treating that as an endorsement. Teaching them what they want to know is worse. When things go wrong, I'm attacked for teaching the imbecile knowledge that he then abused. Dumbledore has always felt that he alone knows best, and if anyone wants to keep information from him, then it must be for nefarious intent. When I wouldn't share with him how to make a Philosopher's Stone, he assumed the worst."
"I'm surprised you aren't more upset about losing the Stone," Hermione said." Her parents looked mortified at this.
"Hermione!" her mother scolded.
"I'm sorry!" Hermione said to Flamel, her cheeks burning with a massive blush.
Nicholas Flamel laughed.
"It's perfectly fine, my dear," he said, a warm smile on his face. "In fact, if you promise not to mention it to Dumbledore, I do have a slight confession to make."
"You have another stone!" realized Emma Granger. Her own face turned red as she realized she had just let out an outburst she would have scolded her daughter for.
"I am the only one who knows how to make one, am I not?" he asked. "It only made sense to make two, in case anything happened to the first. With Voldemort sure to get word of the Stone's destruction, his eye should turn elsewhere, and I can go on quietly helping my neighbours through the judicious use of the backup Stone in my hospital."
Nicholas shook his head. "To be honest, though, Dumbledore is completely correct in that most people would not react well to the Stone. Greed is an immensely powerful thing, and very addictive as well. It is best that everyone thinks the Stone is destroyed. That does mean I'll have to cut back on its usage in the hospital." Seeing that the Grangers were upset at this, he amended the statement. "From now on, I'll only use it for actual, life-threatening events, and I'll be sure to administer it in an unnoticeable method that still provides enough benefit to save the patient's life. The gold, of course, I can just claim I created prior to the destruction of the Stone."
"It seems like our trust in the Headmaster has taken a bit of a downturn," said Dan Granger. Nicholas shook his head.
"Please don't let my bitterness about the man decide you as to his character," cautioned the old man. "What you are seeing with us is almost one hundred years of frustrations finally boiling over. While I will never claim the man is not sometimes… lets us say misguided, he is still the most powerful wizard we have on the side of the light. And make no mistake, that is the side he will always be on."
"Why is he misguided?" asked Emma.
"Let me ask this of you as parents," said Nicholas. "Suppose I was to tell your daughter that she is extremely talented and brilliant, what would your reaction be?"
"We'd agree with you," answered Dan and Emma together.
"And well you should," said Nicholas. "Now let us take it a step further. How would you feel if I told her that three times a day?"
"Well, while I'd agree with you, I'd wonder if you weren't taking it a bit over the top," said Dan.
"Ahhh... You'd begin to wonder what my agenda was, perhaps?" Nicholas asked.
"Probably," answered Dan.
"Now I start bringing friends over with me, and we're all praising her all day long. We're asking her to do our thinking for us. We're asking her to give us her opinion on things she has no logical reason to know anything about. We're hoping and praying that her common sense is greater than our experienced knowledge."
"And now I would kick the lot of you out of my house," said Dan, laughing.
"Exactly," Nicholas agreed. "And that's precisely what wizarding Britain has done to Dumbledore. They've recognized him as being the greatest of them, so he must know everything about everything. It wasn't quite as sudden as the example I just used, of course. In the beginning, he resisted believing the constant praise. The wizarding world, though, was so persistent in needing someone to think for them that they continued long enough to wear him down. It was slow enough that he finally allowed it. Slowly, day by day, the wizards and witches of Britain dug a hole, stuffed their hero into it, and filled it in with praise. It would be enough to affect anyone."
"How have you avoided the same trap?" asked Emma. Nicholas smiled.
"By being unpleasant enough that no one could tolerate me long enough to keep praising me," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.
In the end, it took a combined effort to build the lightsaber. Toma reshaped the largest piece of the fragmented crystal to make a slender crystal shaft about the diameter of a pencil. This would retain the property of the crystal that was imbued with the Force. Nicholas used the pieces of the Stone and some rather complicated charms to form a sleeve that this shaft would fit snugly into.
Using an alchemical process no one in the room but himself understood, Nicholas was able to merge the two crystals into one construct. When he was finished, the two very different crystals seamlessly merged into each other. The result was a transparent gold band separating the red and green sections. No one was quite certain what effect this would have. The Stone was a magical artefact and combining with the Force-sensitive Adegan kyber crystal took the end result out of predictable knowledge.
Harry went over his lightsaber hilt with everything from what looked to Dan Granger to be an ordinary oscilloscope, to an actual magnifying glass. The young Jedi went through every circuit and component in minute detail. The power pack needed to be replaced, as the spell had overloaded it, and Harry needed to replace some small components on boards that controlled the power regulation. These had blown out when the power pack ruptured. The handle was in perfect condition, a fact for which Harry was incredibly grateful. He was very fond of his lightsaber, and was steeling himself for the moment he turned it on again.
Worst case scenario: nothing happened. The Stone might be totally incompatible with the alien technology, and it just sat there, doing nothing. This was unlikely.
Best case scenario: He might gain some magical abilities, or the ability to cast with it as he did with his wand.
Most likely scenario: it would be a regular lightsaber, but probably with an unusual colour.
Harry had finished cleaning and inspecting and was ready for the crystal. The final act of tuning the crystal was Harry's task, as the user of this lightsaber. It would take a few hours of concentration with the Force, but not the days a completely new crystal would need, due to the Adegan crystal core that had already been tuned.
The final assembly was performed in the Granger living room. Harry, sitting cross-legged on the floor, had each component levitating in the air in front of him. The crystal was the heart of a lightsaber, residing in the centre of the hilt. When he had them perfectly aligned, he compressed the pieces to the crystal. Harry took great care to ensure the crystal stayed perfectly still as the other components moved towards the centre and clicked home. He reached out and took the lightsaber from the air.
For a moment, it seemed warmer than it should have, and he thought he saw a gold spark shoot out of the end of it, but it soon felt normal again. Harry stood and held the lightsaber out. Pressing the activation stub, he turned it on.
The moment it was activated, the silver-coloured grip turned gold in a wave that started in the centre and radiated out till the entire handle was converted. At the same time, Harry felt his hand grow warm for a moment. A tingle he had never felt with his lightsaber before buzzed through his hand, then returned to normal. A red shaft of plasma emerged from the emitter. It was not the electric crimson that the Sith were so fond of, but a deeper, richer, ruby red with thin green and gold ribbons of translucent light snaking through it. Green sparks of light chased each other through the gold ribbons and vice versa in endless races through the blade.
Harry turned the lightsaber off and examined the now golden handle.
"Well, that was interesting," the young Jedi said.
Toma took the lightsaber from Harry and examined it. This changing from one metal to another was quite beyond the knowledge of the Jedi. He showed Nicholas where not to push and allowed him to examine the gold lightsaber as well.
"Well," the alchemist stated, "it looks like the Stone may have some power left in it after all! It's not pure gold, however. It appears to be a gold alloy. May I ask what metal the handle was made of prior to the Stone's influence?"
"Polished duraplast," answered Toma. "It's an extremely strong metal, and one which is commonly used in many industries in the Republic."
"Well, I'm not sure what 'duraplast' is or if there is an Earth equivalent without analyzing it, but I'd say it's a good thing the Stone turned it into an alloy. Pure gold is very soft and malleable. While it would make a pretty decoration, as a weapon, it would be useless." He handed the lightsaber back to Harry. "Well, Mr Potter, you may now say you have a gold/duraplast alloy for your lightsaber handle."
Hermione looked at the gold lightsaber in Harry's hand, pondering it.
"Professor Dumbledore will be asking questions about this, won't he?" she asked. "He's not stupid, and it's not going to escape his notice that within days of being present at the destruction of the only Philosopher's Stone known to exist, your previously silver lightsaber is now gold, and the blade is suddenly the same shade of red the Stone was. How could he not notice?"
"I believe I can handle that," said Toma. "Harry, I would like to let Master Yoda examine your lightsaber." Harry handed it to him without hesitation. Toma placed it in his side pouch. "It will be returned to you when you return to Hogwarts. In the meantime, please carry this." He handed Harry a lightsaber that was similar enough to his own that a casual observer wouldn't notice the difference. "It is not tuned to you, as your own is, but it will certainly suffice for the moment." Harry turned it on and noticed its blade was also green.
Nicholas offered to side apparate Toma back to Hogsmeade, which Toma accepted. Toma and Harry bowed and said, "May the Force be with you," while Nicholas said his goodbyes. He again gave his thanks to Harry and Hermione for their actions in rescuing him, to the Grangers for their hospitality, and to all of them for their discretion in their knowledge of his spare Philosopher's Stone. Wishing them all a Happy Christmas and a Happy New Year, they departed. Once in Hogsmeade, Nicholas invited Toma to the Three Broomsticks for a drink before Toma returned to Hogwarts and Nicholas for home. Toma accepted, and the two, now friends, entered the pub.