Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.
Holocron
XVII
Wednesday, September 4, 1996
Ron frowned as he looked down at the pile of components and parts that should have been his lightsaber by now. It was so bloody frustrating! It had been weeks since he'd finished fashioning them all. They were perfect – neither Harry nor Hermione could find any flaws in his work. But they still refused to put themselves together into a working bloody lightsaber! He'd been trying every day, always with the same result.
He closed his eyes, blocking out the unused classroom he'd claimed, trying to forget about the jumble of Merlin-be-damned lightsaber components, and just tried to breathe in and out. Calming himself. Trying to put himself into a better state of mind to try again.
I didn't really work.
It never really worked anymore.
As the frustration continued to build up over time, frustration with his lightsaber, with his failures, with his mother's nagging, with the Death Eaters and their attacks, with his sister whoring herself out to Corner, with Harry and Hermione always managing to show him up with their abilities, it just got harder and harder to find any sense of peace or tranquility in the Force.
He gave up on the meditation after a few minutes. He opened his eyes again and looked down at the pieces in front of him. He opened his mind and reached out with his senses to the Force. But he didn't surrender to the Energy that flowed around him, that would've taken forever in his agitated state, instead he grasped for it, wrestled for control, and bent it to his will.
It didn't take very long, and it was a lot easier than trying to maintain a sense of peace all the time. And it worked just fine as far as he could tell.
The Force never put up much of a fight against him. For an apparently all-powerful mystical Energy, it was rather easily subjected to someone who simply had the strength to try.
Ron sent the Force out to the pile of components and watched as they floated up into the air and orbited around the little sliver of kyber crystal. They slowly gravitated toward one another, each piece slipping into its place.
Then they stopped, and the whole floating mass started to tremble.
He fought down the urge to angrily push it all into place, to order the Force to do as he damn-well pleased. He'd interrogated both Harry and Hermione several times on what exactly they had done and precisely what it had felt like to complete their lightsabers. They both insisted that it all just came together quickly and easily. It was peaceful and calming, like gently falling asleep after a long day of tiring but fulfilling labor.
So he tried to calm himself, to ask the Force to complete what he'd worked so hard to achieve.
The trembling of the components grew stronger as Ron warred within himself, trying to find a sliver of peace amidst the turmoil of his frustration.
And then it all just fell apart as he lost his hold on the Force and the components dropped back down to the surface of the desk.
"Bloody, fucking HELL!" he screamed as he leapt to his feet. "Why won't you work?!" He grabbed the chair he'd been sitting on and threw it against the wall with all his strength, the wood shattering against the stone. He lashed out with the Force against the other odd pieces of furniture that were in the room. They slammed into each other and smashed themselves against the walls.
He summoned another chair to himself and held it captive in the air before him. He slowly clenched his outstretched hand into a tight fist and watched with satisfaction as the chair was crushed into a floating ball of compressed splinters before his eyes.
"Fuck it!"
He swept the jumble of lightsaber components into his bag and stalked toward the door, not bothering to put the room back to rights with a few quick spells. It wasn't worth it. He slammed the door open, and strode off through the corridors.
"Bloody… Merlin-blasted… buggering shite…" he grumbled as he made his way toward the Great Hall for dinner.
He didn't notice that he had company until they spoke up.
"What's got your knickers in a bunch, Weasel?"
He turned to see Draco Malfoy and his two baboons Crabbe and Goyle.
"Your Mudblood not putting out for you anymore?"
"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron snarled.
"Not that I blame her, really," the Slytherin continued with a smirk. "I mean, look at you, all pale and haggard, you look like you haven't slept in weeks! What have you been up to, spending all your time failing to seduce Brown again?"
"I said, Fuck off, Malfoy!" Ron screamed as he threw his hand out at the other boy, angrily lashing out with the Force.
Draco yelped and flew back against the wall, slamming into it hard. Ron held him there, suspended two feet off the ground as he slowly closed his fist, cutting of the ponce's windpipe bit by bit.
"You think you're so bloody great, don't you, Malfoy?" Ron sneered as the other boy gasped and flailed at his throat.
Crabbe and Goyle tried to rush him, but a quick push with the Force sent them sprawling across the floor. Ron never even needed to take his eyes off of Draco.
"You think just because your Death Eater father has a pile of galleons that lets you do whatever you like. Say whatever you want." He tightened his Force grip on Draco's throat even more. "Get away with anything. You think your money makes you strong? You don't know a thing about strength!"
He let the git gasp for breath for another moment, it was really satisfying after all, before he finally released him. Malfoy fell to the ground in a trembling heap.
"I'll get you for this, Weasel!" he whimpered through his coughs as tears ran down his cheeks. "I'll get you and your whole, blood-traitor family!"
"You'll stay bloody well away from me, Malfoy," Ron fired back. "Or you'll get a lot worse from me than that!"
He turned and strode toward Great Hall, not bothering to watch as the three Slytherins picked themselves up and ran in the opposite direction.
Gits.
By the time he reached dinner, he was much calmer. Roughing up a few Death Eater wannabes did wonders for one's temperament.
He sat down at the Gryffindor table across from Harry and Hermione, offering a grunt as a greeting.
"Ron?" Hermione asked as she looked away from her copy of the Daily Prophet to glance at him. "Are you feeling alright?"
"What are you on about?" he replied as he shoveled a pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
"It's just… you don't look so good. You're all pale and you've got dark circles under your eyes. Are you sick?"
"I feel fine," he stated as he started to eat. "Maybe a little sorer than normal, but that's probably just from Quidditch."
"I don't feel any leftover soreness from practice. You might have Wizard's Flu. I think you should go see Madam Pomfrey."
Ron slammed his silverware down onto the table.
"I said, I'm fine, Hermione! Leave off me and let me eat!"
The brunette witch looked ready to respond but Harry stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He turned to Ron.
"You need to be more mindful of your anger, Ron, you can't let little outbursts like this control you."
"For Merlin's sake, I'm not letting my anger control me! I'm just hungry. Let a bloke eat his supper already!"
He watched Harry and Hermione share a worried glance, but they didn't say anything further. Hermione eventually went back to her paper and Harry to his dinner.
It was a good thing too. Teaching Malfoy and his cronies a lesson took a lot of energy. Ron was famished.
"Oh Merlin, not another one!" Hermione exclaimed a few minutes later.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"Another Death Eater attack," she explained. "They attacked the home of an Auror last night. Auror Barry Dingle, his wife Felicia, and their three children were killed and the house burned. Oh, Harry, this is just awful!"
"We should find the bloody bastards and just kill 'em all," Ron offered as he felt his anger building inside him again.
"Language," Hermione automatically chided. "And how can you say such a thing? All this death is just terrible! We don't need more!"
"There wouldn't be as much death if we just got rid of all the damn Death Eaters! That's what, the sixth attack in the last two months? We should hunt them down and kill them like the vermin they are!"
"That's not the Jedi way, Ron," Harry said. "We defend life, which sometimes requires violence, but we can't just go out looking to kill people."
"Screw the Jedi way! They're all dead in some long lost galaxy."
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.
"No! I don't want to hear it! You know what? I've had enough," he said as he stood from the table. "I've had enough of bloody Death Eaters and Death Eater wannabes for one night. I'll see you two later."
He strode out of the Great Hall, leaving his half-eaten dinner and his two shocked friends behind.
OoOoO
OoOoO
Friday, October 25, 1996
The glowing blades hummed as they cut through the air. They flashed, shooting off sparks as they clashed together in a burst of static and light that lit up the early evening air all around them. They spun away again, only to fly back together less than an instant later, a flurry of strikes and counterstrikes that colored the surrounding trees and bushes with shades of blue and green and bright, lightning-like flashes of pure white.
Harry pulled back again before lunging forward. Hermione met the attack with a lateral parry and swung back at him. But in the Force he'd already known the blow would be coming and he spun out of the way, his movement transitioning gracefully into his own counterattack.
The Holocron had shown him how to adjust the settings on their lightsabers. If they turned up the blade's electromagnetic containment field to maximum, and scaled back the power output significantly, the lightsabers became safe enough to spar with.
'Safe' being a relative word, of course. Instead of severing limbs, setting the sabers to what they had taken to calling 'practice mode' merely left them with bruises, welts, and burns.
Hermione leapt into the air, somersaulted, and brought her emerald weapon down at him. But Harry was already moving, he angled his sapphire energy-blade so that when they met, most of the force of Hermione's blow was deflected with ease. He spun around and slashed at her side, but she was ready for him, and met his blade with a vertical parry.
Sparring with their lightsabers in practice mode had become a regular part of their Force training. It helped with their reflexes and precognition, it gave them a chance to learn and practice a whole new set of Jedi katas, and it was good exercise. Plus it was kind of fun.
A lot of fun actually.
They'd found a clearing on the far side of the lake that was far enough away from prying eyes to give them enough privacy to beat on each other with the fiery weapons. By the end of each session, they each typically sported a collection of painful burns and bruises. Ron normally had it the worst – he still hadn't managed to complete his own lightsaber, and while he was able to use Harry's or Hermione's, he didn't have a connection with the weapons like they did. Harry and Hermione each shared a bond with the lightsabers they'd built using their own hands and the power of the Force, and wielding them felt like an extension of their very selves.
The minor injuries weren't really anything to worry about. Most could be healed with a few simple charms, the very worst so far had required nothing more than a little bit of Essence of Murlap.
Harry circled his blade around Hermione's before stepping forward, locking the two lightsabers together in a storm of electric static, flashes of light, and dripping sparks. Their faces were only inches apart as they each pushed against the other's blade, green and blue warring for dominance. Harry pressed with all his might, but Hermione was no pushover, and the Force lent her strength.
She pivoted, throwing her off-hand forward and pushing with the Force.
But Harry was already spinning around behind her, and his sapphire blade slashed against her shoulders.
She yelped and jumped ahead several feet.
"Point Harry!" Ron called out.
Harry glanced over at his other best friend. He still didn't look too good. His face was now almost always pale and drawn, and he constantly had dark rings under his eyes. But he insisted that he felt fine and he refused to go to the Infirmary. Harry had stopped trying to convince him, giving it up as a lost cause.
"Yes, I'm well aware," Hermione grumbled.
"That's what, four to two?" Harry asked.
"Four to three, as you well know, Mr. Potter," she replied. "You're not that far ahead of me and you know it. Try to cheat one more time and I'll make you rejoin Apparition lessons with me!"
Harry involuntarily shuddered. One attempt at Apparition had been all it took for both Harry and Ron to call it quits but Hermione was willing to subject herself to the grueling hours of nausea and dizziness just so she could say she was a fully-qualified witch.
Her determination could make her rather scary sometimes. Brilliant, but scary.
Ron laughed.
"I'd be careful if I were you, mate," he said.
Hermione switched her glance over to the ginger wizard.
"You're not off the hook either, mister."
Ron shook his head.
"Not even the Force itself could get me to apparate again, woman."
"Woman?!" she nearly shrieked.
Harry ignored the growing argument and tilted his head to the side as he felt a presence approaching them. He quickly deactivated his saber and hid it beneath his robes while adjusting its settings back to normal – just in case. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione do likewise. She then quickly pulled out her wand and healed their collection of burns with a few Episkey spells.
A few moments later Dennis Creevey walked into the clearing.
"There you are, Harry!" the newcomer announced. "I thought I was never going to find you! What are you lot doing all the way out here?"
"Practicing," Ron decided to answer.
"Practicing what?" Dennis asked.
"Magic."
"Magic?"
"Magic." Ron nodded seriously.
"Did you need something, Dennis?" Harry asked.
"Oh right! The Headmaster wants to see you, Harry. He told me to come find you right away and ask you to report to his office. But that was over and hour ago, it's taken me that long to find you. I hope you don't get into trouble because you're late… You won't tell him it's my fault, will you?"
"Don't worry, Dennis," Hermione said, "I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Oh, okay."
"I guess we should head back, then," Harry said to his two friends.
"Yeah, you're just afraid that Hermione's going to even the score," Ron offered as they started walking back toward the castle.
"She always does," Harry answered.
Hermione smiled and laughed.
"And don't you forget it!"
OoOoO
OoOoO
Harry knocked on the thick wooden door at the top of the spiral stairs.
"Come in, Harry," the Headmaster's voice called from the other side.
Harry slipped into the office and quietly shut the door behind him. The room looked just as he remembered: shelves overstuffed with books and oddities, a golden stand serving as a perch for the brightly colored phoenix, a myriad of tiny, silver instruments that twirled and jostled about, spewing out puffs of colored smoke or making odd little sounds. The Sorting Hat was hanging on a hook next to four individual slippers, each for left feet. On the walls all around, the portraits of the school's former Headmasters gazed down in something that looked like disapproval, or else were pretending to be asleep. The current Headmaster was seated behind his huge, claw-footed desk, smiling as if he didn't have a care in the world. In addition to his usual garish robes, he was wearing a pair of bright purple gloves, something that struck Harry as peculiar – wizards tended to shy away from gloves and mittens so that they wouldn't interfere with delicate wand movements.
"Please have a seat, Harry," he gestured to the chair in front of the desk. "Would you like a lemon drop?"
"Sure," he said as he took his seat. The candy was both tangy and sour. Not at all to Harry's liking. But he didn't want to be impolite, so he kept it in his mouth, hoping it would melt away quickly.
"I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to come to my office this evening."
"The question had crossed my mind," Harry replied.
"I wished to talk with you about Voldemort," Dumbledore paused, seemingly looking for some sort of reaction from Harry. When none was forthcoming he went on. "As you are prophesized to face him, I thought it would be best to see you prepared."
"Oh. Well, err… I am prepared. Or, I mean… I've been preparing, not that I'm in a hurry to run off and fight him."
"Indeed. I presume that you are speaking about your Jedi abilities? All is well in your progression there?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"I guess so. I did pretty well against those Death Eaters last spring."
"Indeed you did. With everything that happened that day, I never did get a chance to ask you… several students said they saw you wielding some sort of magical, glowing sword. What were they talking about, I wonder?"
"Oh, that. Well, err… That's my lightsaber." Harry reached under his robe and unclipped his weapon before holding it out for the Headmaster to see. "It's an ancient weapon of the Jedi Order. An energy-blade powered by a Force-attuned crystal that can cut through just about anything."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in curiosity.
"Might I see a demonstration?"
"Err… sure."
Harry thumbed the activation switch and the brilliant, sapphire blade burst into being with a sharp snap-hiss.
"Marvelous…" Dumbledore whispered as he peered at the glowing beam of energy. "It can cut through anything, you say?"
"As far as I know."
"Could we perhaps test that hypothesis?"
"Sure."
Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a short, metal rod that hung suspended in the air.
"This metal is known as tungsten," he said. "It's one of the strongest and densest natural metals occurring on earth. Let's see how your lightsaber fares against it, shall we?"
Harry just shrugged his shoulders and slashed his weapon at the floating rod. The blade's electric thrum shifted tones to a high-pitched shriek as it impacted the metal, but it passed through effortlessly, cleaving the inch-thick rod in two and leaving glowing, molten metal in its wake.
"Splendid!" Dumbledore cheered as he vanished the smoldering remains. "How about another test?"
"Sure."
This time when he flicked his wand, a stone block floated over from where it had been resting on a shelf in the corner. It was cover in intricate markings and runes, and Harry could easily feel the magic that radiated from it.
"This is a rune stone used for anchoring warding schemes. It's a heavily enchanted and rather powerful magical artifact. Normally they're rather… resistant to damage. Let's see how it fares, shall we?"
"Are you sure, sir?" Harry asked with some trepidation, "I mean, that looks expensive. Do you really want to ruin it?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again.
"All in the name of discovery, Harry!"
"If you say so."
Harry took a breath and then slashed at his target, and again the lightsaber cut straight through it. There was a bit more resistance this time, but nothing that could withstand the Jedi weapon for more than an instant. But surprise overtook him as he felt the magical energies contained within the stone begin to discharge rather violently. He was caught off guard, startled because he'd felt no warning in the Force. But then the rapidly expanding energies seemed to be ensnared by something that pushed up through the ceiling and out of the room where they could do no further harm. Dumbledore noticed the expression on Harry's face.
"I wouldn't recommend doing that outside this office," he said. "The rune stone was clearly no match for your lightsaber, but the resulting explosion would have been quite deadly, if not for the protections I placed beforehand."
"You were planning on this?"
"Of course. Did you think I just kept fully-charged rune stones sitting on my shelf?"
"Err…"
"How about one last test?"
Again, he waved his wand and a thin branch popped into being.
"Really?" Harry asked.
"One more moment. Protego!"
A shimmering magical shield instantly surrounded the branch.
Harry swung at his target, but his blade deflected off the shield with a bright flash of static and bounced off to the side.
"Hmmm…" Dumbledore mused. "It seems your weapon isn't as invincible as it first appears. Physical objects, even highly enchanted ones pose it no obstacle, but a simple Shield Charm is enough to thwart it."
Harry smiled.
"If it seems like it's too good to be true…"
"Indeed, it probably is," the Headmaster finished. "A fact that you should keep in mind should you find yourself confronted by the Death Eaters again. Voldemort, however insane he might be, still has a keen mind, and will think of ways to counter your weapon now that his servants have seen it used.
"But now that my curiosity is sated, perhaps we might return to the reason I called you to my office."
"Right."
"What I'm about to tell you, Harry, I must ask that you keep in the strictest of confidences. Word of this conversation must not get back to Voldemort, or else I fear we will suffer a terrible set back."
"Err… Alright."
"You see Harry, long before he was known to the world as 'Lord Voldemort,' our enemy went by another name – Tom Marvolo Riddle. He only began using his pseudonym after he had begun the most wicked of his sorceries, the creation of Horcruxes…"
The Headmaster spoke for a long time. Going over the story of Tom's life from his humble origins, to his academic achievements at Hogwarts, and then to his twisted fall into the practice of the Dark Arts. He explained the theory of Horcruxes to Harry, what they did, and what it took to make them.
"To my knowledge, Tom is the first wizard to attempt to make more than one Horcrux," the Headmaster continued. "The process has likely made him very powerful, just as it has driven him further into his madness. He is well beyond the point of reason, I'm afraid, driven only by his rage and his thirst for power and dominion. I had originally feared that the creation of multiple Horcruxes would place him beyond our ability to defeat, but as luck would have it, I… convinced and old friend of mine to give me one of his memories. I now know precisely how many of the foul artifacts Tom intended to make. Seven. Six exterior soul jars and the seventh piece remaining within him."
"Seven? Why seven?" Harry asked.
"It is an arithmantically significant number, as you well know, with connotations of power and perfection, something that apparently appealed to him. And we are in luck, for I have already dealt with two of them."
The old wizard reached into one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out two items, and old book with a simple black cover, and a gold ring set with a simple, dark stone.
As he did so, Harry noticed something odd about Dumbledore's right hand. The purple glove was hiding something. He could feel it. He called upon the Force and focused his senses on the Headmaster's hand. There was a darkness surrounding it and within it, an oily manifestation that siphoned off the wizard's presence a trickle at a time. It was bound and contained by strong magics, but not completely.
He sucked in a quick breath when he realized what it meant. Dumbledore paused what he was doing and met Harry's eyes. They seemed to hold a wordless conversation for a long moment.
"I see you've discovered my ailment," the Headmaster said at last.
"I'm sorry," Harry tried to explain, "I didn't—"
"Don't worry," Dumbledore dismissed the apology with a careless wave, "I shan't hold your observations and quick mind against you."
"Is it…?"
"Yes. I'm afraid that it's quite fatal. But I have a few more months left yet. Hopefully enough time to see an end to these Horcruxes and Tom as well. I think I'd like to see a bit of peace before I embark on the next great adventure."
"If it's of any comfort, professor," Harry hesitantly began, "one of the tenants of the Jedi Code is about death. It says, 'There is no death, there is the Force.'"
"Thank you, Harry. I think I understand the meaning. And it is a sentiment that I whole-heartedly share. But I must ask that you also keep my condition secret as well. I'm afraid of what Tom might attempt if he knew that I wasn't at full strength."
"Of course, sir."
They shared a sad smile for a moment.
"But as I was saying, these two objects, this diary and the… Gaunt family ring, were once two of Tom's Horcruxes. The diary was brought to my attention a few years ago by Arthur Weasley, your friend's father. The ring I found this past summer. I've destroyed the Horcruxes that were contained within," Harry noticed that there was a hole burned straight through the book as well as a hairline fracture in the stone on the ring, "but alas, there was a dark curse upon the ring, and I made a mistake. Thus my current condition," he gestured to his hand.
"I also have good information as to the nature of the remaining Horcruxes. Tom was always enraptured with trophies, with objects of significance and importance. My research has narrowed down the likely items that he might have used. I believe he has found and corrupted both Slytherin's Locket and Hufflepuff's Cup. He's likely also made a Horcrux out of his familiar, a great, mutated serpent that he calls Nagini. The final item will likely be something of Rowena Ravenclaw's, as all of Godric Gryffindor's relics are accounted for, save for his sword, but that would not be compatible with the nature of a Horcrux."
"So now what do we do?"
"Now," Dumbledore said, "you go back to your studies and training, while I continue to search for the remaining Horcruxes. I will be sure to inform you of any progress that I make."
"Right."
Harry started to rise at the obvious dismissal, but he felt a suggestion from the Force. Something that he felt he should try.
"Err… before I go, could I… see those for a moment?" Harry motioned to the two former Horcruxes still out on the desk. "I'd like to try something…"
"By all means. They're completely harmless now."
Harry reached out and gathered the book and the ring into his hands. There was indeed a hole going straight through the cover of the book, through all the pages, and out the other side. It looked like it had been burned through, maybe with some sort of acid. The pages were blank which made him wonder why Voldemort would make something so simple and insignificant into a Horcrux. The ring felt both heavy and cold, and there was an odd symbol scratched into the surface of the dark stone – a circle within a triangle, both bisected by a vertical line. Interesting.
Harry closed his eyes, reached out into the Force, and focused his senses upon the items in his hands. He immediately felt the remnants of Voldemort's presence, the same presence that had tried to invade his mind in the graveyard, the same presence that he'd fought off with all his strength. It was a presence that somehow felt… familiar, as if he'd somehow known it his whole life. It wasn't nearly as strong in the former Horcruxes as it had been with the Dark Lord himself, their dark magic had been cleansed, just a remnant now remained.
But there was still enough for him to follow the urging of the Force.
He sent his senses out, stretching them far beyond the grounds of Hogwarts, through Scotland and down into England. He strained himself, pushing far past the limits of anything he'd tried before. He felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead and his hands start to tremble, but he held on to the Force and searched for the presence that was still tied to the remnants within the former Horcruxes.
And then he felt it. Them.
There were two far to the south. The Force gave him a glimpse of tall buildings and busy streets. London. He'd seen that skyline a thousand times.
Two more were also to the south, but further to the west than the others. They were in a large, wealthy manor house. One of them felt much stronger, much more active than the others. That had to be Voldemort. The other must've been his snake.
The last presence wasn't nearly so far away. In fact, it felt very, very close.
Harry snapped his eyes open and looked intently at the Headmaster.
"I know where the other Horcruxes are," he said. "And one of them is right here in Hogwarts."
AN: Dun dun DUN!
But then again, you already knew where the Horcruxes were, didn't you?
Any thoughts about the chapter?
So, here's a fic recommendation for you: What's Her Name in Hufflepuff by ashez2ashes, which can be found right here on ffn. It has great imagination and it's hilarious and really fleshes out some characters that rarely get any 'screen time' – the Hufflepuff girls! Give it a read!
Note, I made a couple small changes/additions to chapters II and VII. They're minor, but I thought I'd just let you all know in case you're the type that wants to check for completeness' sake.
Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!