I own nothing but the plot, and not even all of that.

Harry and Hermione were standing on Platform 9-3/4 with Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Toma had gone ahead to Hogwarts to meet with Dumbledore and explain about Dobby. The Grangers were taking the moment to say goodbye.

"Now," Mrs. Granger said to them, "I would really appreciate it if you two did not get involved with any more trolls, or possessed professors, or kidnappers this year."

"No green skinned monsters this year," Hermione said, "we'll try our best."

"Thank you for letting us stay with you," Harry said. "I love the new house." Mrs. Granger gave him a hug.

"You're welcome any time, Dear," she said.

Mr. Granger shook Harry's hand while his wife enveloped their daughter in a hug.

"Be careful this year," Dan told Harry. "Don't take the warning lightly." They had previously decided not to mention Dobby by name in public, since it was likely that whomever owned him would be on the train platform.

"I won't," Harry promised, "and I will be careful. I'll keep an eye out for Hermione, too."

"Thank you, son," Mr. Granger said. He had always known he'd have to let his daughter spread her own wings, but letting her off on her own to this school for most of the year was hard for him. Especially when it seemed to be far more dangerous than they were initially led to believe.

Harry and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express and found a compartment. As they waited for their friends, Harry told her all about his summer, which was mostly training in the Jedi Temple. Hermione caught Harry up on any tidbits of her summer she had left out before, but it wasn't much more than she had already told him.

At Hogwarts, Master Toma and Headmaster Dumbledore we're sitting in the Headmasters office, discussing the events of the summer.

"A house elf?" exclaimed Dumbledore. He looked dumbfounded. "I admit that the possibility had not occurred to me. I am so used to house elves acting the way they do that the concept of one stealing from me didn't even cross my mind. I will have to put some additional protections in place. I am pleased that young Harry and yourself are well. I was most concerned when the Holocube went missing."

Toma went on to explain about the warning that Dobby had left them.

"It was quite vague, and it seemed he was fighting himself to tell us even as little as he did," Toma said. "Have you heard anything about danger coming to Hogwarts?"

"Not specifically," acknowledged Dumbledore. "There are usually some disgruntled parents who are upset that their children failed to perform to their expectations. They seem to believe all of the effort should be on the part of the teacher, and are dismayed to find that Hogwarts expects as much of the student. Their threats are usually in the form of discontinued funding, however, rather than anything physical. I thank you for passing on this warning. I will review the castle security, but without a more specific threat it is difficult to know what to look for."

"Have you managed to fill your Defense Against the Dark Arts posting?" Toma asked.

"Oh, yes," answered Dumbledore. "A young man who has made quite a name for himself in the literary world has come forward to volunteer. Gilderoy Lockhart has written numerous books about his experiences. I recall he was quite clever when he was a young Ravenclaw here, if a bit boastful about his accomplishments. I have no reason to think he has changed in the slightest."

"I would like to ask you about Harry's Jedi training in the coming year," Toma inquired. "Master Yoda and Master Amani have remained on Coruscant, so his training is left to me. Are the quarters I used last year still available, or should I secure lodging in Hogsmeade?"

"The rooms you used last year are still available, but without meaning offence, I would like to limit your contact with the other students. Young Harry, is of course, your charge. We have already agreed for you to continue his Jedi training. I'm afraid that the 'Jedi class' will have to be suspended for now, especially in light of the potential for danger to the students. I would like to limit stray students wandering the halls alone or in small groups for now."

"An understandable precaution," Toma acknowledged. "I was finding it difficult to keep them occupied anyway, and having Harry alone will free us to explore Jedi teachings without restriction."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "The last thing I'd like to talk with you about is Harry's lightsaber. I would feel far more comfortable if it did not return to Hogwarts."

"I'm afraid that is impossible," Toma said, firmly. "A lightsaber is far more than just a weapon to a Jedi. It must remain with him if he is to stay at Hogwarts."

"Please understand," Dumbledore said, "I am not suggesting that he not have a lightsaber, it's that particular one that concerns me. Voldemort is, after all, still out there, and if he believes Harry possesses the stone..."

"I see," said Toma. He considered the situation for a moment. The request for Harry to switch to another lightsaber was not unreasonable on the face of it. How was he to explain to the Headmaster the intimate, personal connection between a Jedi and his lightsaber.

"I wonder if you would consider," he suggested to Dumbledore, "giving up your wand." Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise.

"My wand?" he asked.

"Yes," Toma answered. "Surely you can use another?"

"I think I understand," said Dumbledore, the sparkles returning to his eyes. "You are suggesting that to a Jedi, their lightsabers are every bit as personal as a wand is to a wizard."

"Not being a wizard, I can only guess," said Toma, "but I believe so. A lightsaber is tuned to a jedi through meditation and the Force. It has a presence of its own, and each is unique. I'm afraid I must insist that he be allowed to keep it. I may have a solution, though."

"I would be delighted to hear it," said Dumbledore.

"Harry is ready to begin learning some dual weapon techniques," Toma explained. "He still has the replacement lightsaber he was given when his was damaged. I will instruct him to be seen using that lightsaber sometime soon after he arrives. I have no doubt that word will spread."

"I see," said Dumbledore. "It will appear to Voldemort that Harry is no longer using the lightsaber he is interested in. With the stone off the planet, as far as he is aware, he should lose interest in it."

"If we get any intelligence that he does not," Toma said, "we will actually send the lightsaber off planet. I would like to try to keep it with Harry for the moment, however."

"Very well," agreed Dumbledore. "Please make sure Harry understands that in order for this deception to work, he will have to try his hardest not be to seen with his golden lightsaber."

"I will ensure he is as careful as possible. I leave you to your preparations," Toma said, and stood to take his leave.

On his way to Dumbledore's office, Professor Severus Snape passed the Jedi Master Toma Kendet.

"Professor Snape," Toma greeted. They each stopped in the hallway. Snape was carrying a large envelope of paper.

"Mr. Kendet," Snape acknowledged. "I trust your charge has acquired his school supplies on time this year?" The professor asked, referring to the unpleasant duty he had been forced to perform a year ago to ferry Harry Potter to Diagonal Alley and back.

"Yes, we have," answered Toma.

"If you will excuse me, then," Snape said, "I have an appointment with the Headmaster." They parted ways, and Snape gave the password to the gargoyle guarding the spiral staircase that led to Dumbledore's office.

"Dobby?" asked Snape. He was sitting in front of Dumbledore's desk, where the Headmaster had gone over the lesson plans for the first week of classes. It was rather humiliating to still be subjected to such close scrutiny, but he had to admit that his students had learned more from him last year than in the five years previous combined. The headmaster had followed this review with a question about the name 'Dobby.'

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "He is a house elf who delivered a warning to Harry Potter. Apparently, the elf is in possession of information regarding an imminent danger to Hogwarts, but due to his family ties was unable to give any specific information."

"I am aware of Dobby," Snape said. "He is one of the Malfoy elves."

"I see," said Dumbledore. "That is troubling. Unfortunately, this increases the likelihood that the threat is credible. I will alert the Hogwarts elves to keep an eye out for him should he return here. In the meantime, please keep an extra careful eye on young Draco. I would hope Lucius would not involve his own son in one of his schemes, but even I am not so foolish as to believe anything is beyond his ambition."

"Should we attempt to apprehend the elf?" asked Snape. "If we could obtain any additional information…"

"I'm afraid not," answered Dumbledore. "If Dobby comes to Hogwarts again it will likely be on Lucius's instructions. He will certainly be interrogated on what he sees here. If he reports he was questioned by us, it would both tip our hand as well as trigger a fatal punishment for Dobby. We will simply have to increase our vigilance."

"As you wish, Headmaster," Snape acknowledged. "If I learn anything, I will let you know at once."

The student body was seated at their house tables in the Great Hall. They were anxiously awaiting the feast.

Hermione, sitting between Harry and Neville, looked across the table to Ron. They had seen him on the train, but he hadn't said much during the trip. He had mostly sat quietly and played with Scabbers, his pet rat.

"How was your summer, Ron," Hermione asked. She hadn't missed that he didn't seem very happy, and wanted to help. Ron shrugged.

"It was pretty uneventful," he answered. "Played some quidditch with my brothers some, but mostly just sat around." Their conversation was cut off by the entrance of the first years with Professor McGonagall. They congregated around the three legged stool with the Sorting Hat sitting on it. Harry was surprised when the hat broke into its welcome song.

"I may be brown and ruffled,

But don't judge a book by its cover,

Just put me on, we'll take a look,

And see what we can discover!

Gryffindor's are sure of heart,

With adventure they are no stranger,

But if with lions you do trod,

You'll often cope with danger,

Perhaps in Hufflepuff you'll find your kind,

They are loyal, it is true,

But if you like to go alone,

Their colors aren't for you!

Slytherin's are cunning,

They strive to reach the summit,

But those poor souls who fail the tests,

Find their stars will plummet!

Finally in Ravenclaw,

Sit those of introspection,

But unless you like to hit the books,

You'll suffer a rejection,

Finally, I say to you,

Try not to sit in fear,

I've never sorted wrong so far,

So how about a cheer!"

The students all applauded and whistled. The Ravenclaws reaction to the hats song was a bit more diminished then the other houses. They seemed a bit taken aback by the hat's description of them. Harry clapped along with the rest, but sat staring at the hat long after the rest of the Great Hall had settled down.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, noticing the odd look on his face.

"Yes," he answered, "its just that I hadn't realized how much I'd missed this."

"Missed what?" asked Hermione, confused.

"I spend all of my time either using technology far more advanced than anything Earth has to offer," Harry explained, "or studying ancient texts older than human civilization. In all of that, though, I've never before seen a singing hat. I've missed the surprises this place keeps throwing at me."

Any further contemplation would have to wait. The sorting had begun. Each of the houses was well represented in the new crop of students. A hyper, blond headed boy named Colin Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor. He was so over the moon to meet Harry Potter that he gave the impression of an excitable puppy. Ron in particular was noticeably annoyed by the joyful jabberings of the new first year, and grumbled at him to sit down already.

A strangely dressed girl named Luna Lovegood sat for a long time under the sorting hat, swinging her feet back and forth. She seemed to be having a lively discussion with the sorting hat, and sat for nearly four minutes before it shouted out "Ravenclaw!"

Finally, Ginevra Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, and the feast began. Ginevra sat down next to Ron, much to his dislike. He was in his normal eating mode, which meant that his introduction of his sister to the group needed three swallows and a near choking incident before they understood she went by Ginny. Ginny was incredibly shy, it seemed, and kept stealing glances at Harry. Harry, for his part, decided that he much preferred her shy, quiet nature to that of Colin, who was asking for an autograph for the third time.

Draco Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table, eyeing the Gryffindors. This year was going to be different, he vowed to himself. This year he would rule.

After a very satisfying feast, Dumbledore stood and addressed the students.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" the Headmaster called out. "Our first years should note that the dark forest on the boundary of the grounds is strictly off limits. Many creatures reside there that would not welcome visitors. As I'm sure many of you are aware, Mr. Argus Filch is no longer with us. His replacement is Mr. Alfred Mundy." An older man with wire frame glasses and white hair stood from the head table and nodded at the students. He didn't smile, but his demeanor was still far friendlier than Filch had ever managed.

"I'm sure you will all do your best to ensure he is made to feel welcome and at home here," Dumbledore continued. "In addition, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. With every hope that he will be remaining with us for a while, I would like to introduce you to Gilderoy Lockhart."

Several students ducked a bit at the thunderous applause that erupted from the majority of the female student population above fourth year. Professor Lockhart stood and grinned at the students with a wide smile that showed off every gleaming, white tooth he could make visible.

"Yes, thank you for that fine welcome," the Headmaster said. Lockhart took his seat again. "With a new year," he continued, "comes new opportunities for learning. It also introduces another year of unknowns, and a new group of students for whom this magical world of ours is brand new. This is an exciting time for them. Excitement, however, must be tempered with caution. I implore all students, new and old alike, to report any unusual events or situations to their head of house. Last year saw one of our first years nearly see her life at an end, and that is something I never want to experience in these walls again!"

All of the students in second year and above were well aware what the Headmaster was referring to, and the first years were quickly informed what the Headmaster was referring to. More than one person took a quick glance over to the Slytherin table to gawk at Daphne Greengrass. She had been kidnapped by the Voldemort possessed Argus Filch at the end of the previous year.

"I do not wish you to overly worry yourselves," said Dumbledore, calming the whispers that had broken out. "I have no reason to believe any of you are in danger. I would just like you to all to look before you leap, and always be aware of what's around you." With that, he dismissed them all to bed.

The prefects guided the first years to their respective dormitories, and the rest of the students followed along shortly after. Harry and Neville spent a few minutes in the Gryffindor common room catching up with Hermione, and then went up to bed.

At breakfast the next morning, Professor McGonagall passed out the schedules for the Gryffindors.

"Defense first thing after breakfast," Ron said. "I wonder what this Lockhart bloke is going to be like. Seems a bit full of himself, if you ask me," the redhead said. Seamus Finnegan looked up to the head table. When he saw that the Defense Professor was not present, he leaned over to Ron.

"He is!" the Irish boy whispered. "I've read those books of 'is, and I reckon he's made it all up."

"Why would he do that?" Ron asked.

"To sell 'is books, that's why!" Seamus answered. "I'm going to see if I can catch 'im in a lie today," he confided to Ron.

"Good luck!" Ron said. He vowed to keep a close eye on the Defense professor. He'd heard from all his brothers how that position was cursed.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was a large, open space. The main decoration was the skeleton of a small dragon that was suspended to the ceiling. The students were seated, waiting on the teacher. They didn't need to wait long.

A tall man with long, blond hair that was impeccably styled swept into the room. He was wearing periwinkle blue robes with leather knee high riding boots. His robes were styled to more resemble a nobleman than a wizard. He strode down the aisle, almost strutting as he greeted his students.

"Allow me to introduce you," the man said in a loud, clear voice, "to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor!" He turned to face the class. "Me!" He spread his gloved hands as if to present himself for inspection. On the walls of the classroom were dozens of portraits of Lockhart, all of them smiling and posing dramatically.

"Gilderoy Lockhart! Order of Merlin," Professor Lockhart said, pride ringing in his voice. "Third Class," he amended. "Can anyone tell me why I was honored with such a prestigious award?"

Most of the class glanced around at each other. Only Hermione and Seamus Finnigan had raised their hands to answer. Lockhart called on Seamus.

"It's says in your book that you got it by defeating the Wagga Wagga Werewolf," the boy answered. Lockhart beamed at him.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "a lover of books! Five points to Gryffindor," he awarded. Seamus continued to speak, however.

"There's something I don't understand, though," Seamus challenged, a bit of hostility on the edge of his voice. "It said you turned the monster back into a human. If you can do that, why haven't you done it for all the other werewolves out there?" The rest of the class looked shocked at Seamus's challenge. Lockhart looked offended.

"Tut tut!" the professor exclaimed. "I see you haven't truly read the book, but only skimmed it. I'm afraid I'll have to take four of those points back." Lockhart ignored Seamus's face turning bright red as he lectured. "If you had read the passage properly, you would have learned that the homorphus charm is not a permanent cure! The man is to this day still a werewolf. It did, however, allow me to return him to his human form long enough for me apprehend him, thus saving the life of the child the monster was attempting to bite." He picked up one of the portraits and showed it to the class. It showed a smiling Lockhart posing with a small, frightened boy. The child looked to be six or seven years old. A severely scarred, bare chested man lay on the ground behind Lockhart, clearly bound in chains. The moving photograph was silent, but the captured werewolf could be seen to struggle ineffectually against his bonds.

"Sorry, Professor," Seamus mumbled. "My uncle was bitten by a werewolf a few years ago, and I thought that if you could cure one of them, then why hadn't you done it for all of them…." He trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

"Ah… I do apologize, Mr. Finnigan," Professor Lockhart replied. His voice had lost the braggart style he usually spoke in. "I am afraid, however, that lycanthropy is an unfortunately permanent affliction. If you would like to speak with me about it in private, please do not hesitate." Seamus nodded and Lockhart reset himself at the front of the class.

The professor began to take the roll. It seemed he had memorized the roster, as he did not reference it as he began calling out each of the students names alphabetically. He located each of the students as they answered and moved on till he had called on every student.

Lockhart turned to the class and addressed them all. "I see you all have copies of my books, well done," he said. Hermione glared at him a bit, not yet forgiving him for leaving information out of those books.

"I want you to all put your wands on your desks for the moment," he instructed. The class did so and looked at Lockhart expectantly. "Can anyone tell me the proper incantation to contain a pixie?" he asked.

No one answered.

"That's perfectly fine," said Lockhart, smiling. "That's why you're here, to learn these things. I want all of you to repeat after me, Imobulus!"

"Imobulus!" The class said, in unison.

"Excellent," praised Lockhart. He had them pronounce it several more times, then turned to a covered birdcage on a wheeled stand that was sitting in the corner of the room. Lockhart walked over to the cage, the tapping of his boots on the stone floor making a clicking sound with every footfall.

"I am quite sure that most of you can guess what's in here," Lockhart said, brushing his hand against the cover of the large cage. Something under the cover chattered and shook the bars.

"Pixies?" guessed Seamus Finnigan.

"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies, Mr. Finnigan!" Lockhart answered, throwing the cover back and uncovering a cage full of what appeared to be a ball of writhing, blue insects. "We're going to see what you make of them." With a short wave of his wand, the birdcage wheeled itself to the front of the classroom.

"Now, the 'Imobulus' charm is simple, and not very powerful, but that's fine," Lockhart said. "Pixies are only two inches tall, you don't need a stunner to deal with them. Do not be complacent, however!" he warned. "What they lack in stature they more than make up for in deviousness, wild abandon, and shear velocity. They are devilishly fast, proportionately very strong for their size, and utterly mischievous."

Lockhart pointed to the middle of the classroom. "I want you to all pick up your wands and line up in the center aisle. I'll release one pixie at a time, and each of you will take it in turn to try to capture it. You can have up to three tries per attempt. If you fail to hit it on all of your three tries, then rejoin the end of the line and you can try again. I will be on hand to assist anyone who requires it."

The class lined up as he instructed, with Neville Longbottom in front.

"Now," Lockhart said as he took his place near Neville, "there is no wand movements to worry about for this spell, so just point and cast. Are you ready?"

Neville nodded and Lockhart pointed his wand at the pixie cage. With a squeak of metal, the door opened just enough for one of the creatures to squeeze itself out before the metal flap slapped itself back down back down.

The pixie was, as Lockhart had described, only two inches tall. It resembled a human only in that it was bipedal. It had four wings, with which it was able to reach a quite impressive speed, and was a deep cobalt blue. It was also incredibly agile. It did not fly in a straight, predictable line, but rather zigged and zagged all over the place. Neville was having some trouble hitting it.

"Imobulus!" he yelled, pointing his wand at the erratically moving target. A transparent white spot of energy leapt out of his wand and shot towards the pixie. Diving under the spell, the pixie dodged the incoming fire and zoomed to the other side of the room.

"Close!" shouted Lockhart in encouragement "Try again!"

"Imobulus!" Neville yelled again. This time the shot passed on the pixies left side as it swerved out of the way. The pixie was giggling as it dodged the spell, and Neville had to duck as the creature picked up a flower vase and threw it at the boy with pinpoint accuracy.

"Steady, now!" Lockhart called. Neville concentrated and focused on the little blue figure zipping this way and that on a careening course through the classroom.

"Imobulus!" he cried out a final time, and hit the pixie square in the chest just as it emerged from under a desk. The pixie froze in midair, a look of shock and dismay on its face as it slowly rotated in the middle of the classroom. The class cheered for Neville, and Lockhart awarded him five points.

"Next up, Miss Brown," he called, and Lavender Brown blushed as she stood by the handsome teacher. It seemed that Lockhart's presence was enough to throw her aim off considerably, though, as each of her attempts to stop her pixie missed quite badly. It was clear what she was distracted by, however, as every one of her three misses hit one of the professors portraits right on their hearts. The pixie seemed offended that it had not rated Lavender's full attention, and stuck it's blue tongue out at her as the girl made her way to the end of the line.

The class cycled through each of the students in turn, each of them trying to immobilize a pixie. Some were clearly more talented at aiming than others. Poor Lavender ended up going to the end of the line three times, and was the last of the class to hit a pixie. Harry, however, hit his almost as soon as it was out of its cage. Lockhart, either believing it was a fluke or just wanting to see it again, made Harry take on another pixie. The professor made Harry wait till the little blue demon was fully engaged in destroying the room before he allowed the Jedi to stop it. Eventually, all of the students had succeeded in hitting at least one pixie, and the class was at an end.

"Attention!" called Lockhart. The pixies that had been captured had all been returned to their cage, and the cover was replaced. The class was back at their desks, gathering books and waiting to be dismissed.

"Now that we've had a little bit of practice with pixies," the professor said, "we should discuss how this class will work. I will be assigning no written homework!" Half of the class cheered at this, cementing Lockhart as their favorite teacher. "I honestly don't care if you can write an essay on the topics we will be discussing in this class. I didn't endure a year with a Yeti by writing letters to him!" The class laughed.

"Instead," he said, "I will simply tell you at the end of each class which creature we will be studying in the next class, and in which book you may find the daring tale of my adventures involving it. It will be your responsibility to read the story and to be familiar with it by the start of the next class. We will learn any spells necessary in the beginning of the class and go through any practical demonstrations after that. For next class, I would like you to read chapter 4 of Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests, where you will learn everything you never wanted to know about Imps. Any questions?"

Professor Lockhart, seeing there were no questions, dismissed the class. After all of the children had left, be straightened the classroom up and let out a sigh of contentment. He loved to teach.