Chapter 4

Arabella Typho was more than annoyed, she was furious. Voldemort was back and three schoolchildren had stopped him. What was Dumbledore playing at? Why had he allowed somebody possessed with the spirit of the Dark Lord to teach children!?

She watched as children and parents walked out of the barrier between platforms nine and ten, waiting patiently for Harry to appear. After several minutes Harry and a girl with long brown curls walked out of the barrier. The girl ran over to a brunette couple while Harry walked over to her.

"Grandma," said Harry.

"Grades?" she asked. Judging by the look on his face this was not what he had expected. No doubt he thought she'd start out with Voldemort.

"A in Potions, Es and Os in all my other classes," he said.

"Mrs. Typho? Could I speak to you for a moment?"

Arabella turned to see the brunette man who had greeted the little girl.

"Of course, Mr…"

"Granger. Dan Granger."

Once they were several meters from the children, she said, "May I ask what this is about?"

"My daughter says that you and your grandson live in a country undergoing civil war," he said, not even trying to hide his true intentions.

"A peace agreement was signed three months ago, Mr. Granger," said Arabella. "Yes, Harry has been in the city during several battles. No, he was not a child soldier. Yes I work for the organization that used to be made up of rebels and is now a legitimate democratic government. Anything else?"

"Why?"

"I sent Harry to Hogwarts because my parents went to Hogwarts. I brought him up in a country in the middle of a war because I found it preferable to living in England." Arabella paused. "And because it was my husband's home. Now if you don't mind, Harry and I have a ship to catch."

"What's wrong?" Luke Skywalker asked his wife softly, watching Jaina happily eat her dinner.

"Do you recognize this type of blaster pistol?" Mara asked, careful to keep her voice down.

"No. Why?"

"The KYD-21 hasn't been produced in decades. It was mostly used by bounty hunters, assassins, and the like. It's a very good weapon. Very rare these days. Especially one in as good a condition as Jaina claimed it was in."

"What does this have to do with Jaina?"

"She came by earlier today looking for help identifying a blaster used by a 'cute boy' and this is one she said he used." Mara shook her head. "No kid would have a weapon like this unless…"

Luke nodded. "What else were you able to find out about the boy?"

"She won't tell me anything. Just turns red whenever I ask."

"I'll talk to Han and Leia."

"And that's it."

"You shot a Voldemort possessed Quirrell with your blaster." His grandmother seemed to be in shock.

"It's not like I know any spells that would really hurt him yet."

"Gregar would be proud," Arabella said after a long moment. "That blaster was his favorite, you know."

"Really?" Arabella generally didn't speak about their family much.

"I got it for him on our fifteenth wedding anniversary. I spent an entire year scrimping and saving for it." Arabella smiled. "He loved that blaster. He would have wanted you to have it. I've made sure to keep his weapons in good condition. When we get back to the apartment you can pick another blaster as your backup weapon. I don't want you to go anywhere without at least two weapons on you. Especially on Earth."

The journey back to Coruscant was not particularly difficult. Arabella had allowed Harry to plot their course along with flying the ship (Arabella generally stuck the route Gregar had chosen when going to and from Earth). Harry had even found a way to take a day and a half off the ten-day journey.

Umé didn't seem to mind being confined much. She'd spent the time affectionately grooming Harry's ever-messy hair, charming Arabella, and flying in the cargo hold.

Arabella spent much of the time teaching Harry more on self-defense (particularly the physical side of it). Harry himself wrote his essays (better not to answer why he was writing on parchment with a quill on Coruscant), and letters to Hermione and Neville.

Harry was quite happy when they finally reached their destination. After receiving permission to land, Harry gently guided the ship to the proper docking bay. He shut down the ship then went to help his grandmother unload.

By the time two weeks had passed, Jaina was thoroughly annoyed by her mother's attempts to fins out about the boy. She had known that going to Aunt Mara was not the best move, but this was ridiculous.

Slamming the door Jaina decided to head to the lower levels. At least Zekk wouldn't ask her questions about "the boy."

Wes Janson muttered a curse under his breath as he saw a far too familiar member of NRI approach. He owed Arabella Typho several favors, and from the look on her face, he was about to start repayment.

"Mrs. Typho," he said, trying to find the nearest escape route.

"Don't even think about it Janson," she growled. "You will show up at my apartment every evening after work for the next two months and your days off."

He couldn't help but gape at her. "No offense ma'am, but I don't think the Republic would smile on you blackmailing me into having sex with you."

Arabella rolled her eyes. "You're not going to have sex with me, you're going to teach my grandson everything you know."

Wes breathed a mental sigh of relief. "Your grandson?"

"Harry goes to a boarding school on my home planet. It's not the safest place to get an education." Arabella gave him an unfriendly sort of smirk. "You are going to be teaching Harry everything you know from shooting to physical fights to how to fly each and every summer until such time as you run out of things to teach."

It wasn't anywhere near as bad as he thought it would be. "If I do this we're even."

"Until you need another favor, Mr. Janson."

"Daddy?"

Dan Granger looked over at his daughter. She stood at the edge of the doorway, as if trying to hide.

"What is it, baby?"

"Are you-are you going to make me stop being friends with Harry?"

"No," said Dan, shacking his head. "Of course not."

He thought back to his father's stories the war. Richard Granger and his wife had refused to leave London, even when it was bombed, all because it was his home.

Harry watched the man, unsure of what to make of him. Finally, he said, "Grandma blackmailed a member of the Wraith Squadron to train me?"

"Essentially," Wes Janson said with a shrug. "So why are you going to school on such a dangerous planet?"

"It's a cultural thing," he said with a shrug. "So what's first?"

"You know how to use a blaster?" At Harry's nod, Wes continued. "Grab you're blaster and we'll head down to a shooting range."

"Already got it."

"Why-never mind. I almost forgot you were related to one of the most paranoid people on Coruscant," Wes said. "Make and model?"

Not wanting to take any chances with a blaster so important to his grandfather, Harry had decided to leave it in his room and carry two other blasters for his first training session with his grandmother's "friend." "434 blaster pistol and DL-22 blaster pistol, customized."

Wes raised an eyebrow. "Where'd you get those? And for that matter, who did the customizing?"

"They belong to the family, not any one member," Harry said with a shrug. "My grandfather liked to customize his weapons."

"May I see it?"

Harry gave him a suspicious look that made his unwillingness to give up his weapon quite clear.

"I swear that I only want to see what your grandfather did."

After a long moment Harry removed the weapon from under his shirt. Taking the power cell out, he handed it to Wes.

"What did your grandfather do for a living?" Wes asked, examining the blaster.

"He was a member of the Royal Naboo Security Force before he was executed for treason three years after Palpatine declared himself Emperor." Harry carefully took the blaster back and replaced the power cell. "He was one of the founders of the rebellion on Naboo."

"He did good work on that blaster," Wes declared. "Now lets get out of here."

Albus Dumbledore sighed, popping another lemon drop into his mouth. Somebody had killed Professor Quirrel in front of the Mirror of Erisad and he didn't know who.

Mysteries were not things that Albus Dumbledore liked. Particularly mysteries that took place right under his nose.

Jacen bit his lip, he wanted to answer, really he did, but Jaina would be angry with him. Finally he said, "Nope, don't know where Jaya is."

His father gave him a look that quite clearly said he didn't believe him, but backed off anyway.

Jaina had been spending more and more time with Zekk and the Lost Ones. Mostly because they didn't keep asking her questions like their parents did.

He still didn't know what his twin was hiding. It didn't seem bad, but he couldn't be sure until he found out. And Jaina clearly didn't want to talk about it, something the adults didn't quite seem to understand.

Wes Janson motioned toward the open hatch of the flight simulator. "Hop on in."

"Y-you're really going to let me-"

"Of course I am." Wes paused, then lowered his voice. "If anybody asks, we were never here."

"Riiiight."

After Harry had settled himself into the simulator, Wes asked, "Can you reach everything? Need help identifying any of the controls?"

"I know what everything is," said Harry. "What's this set for, anyway?"

"X-Wing. I've already told you what you're supposed to be doing, get to it."

After the hatch closed Wes considered the thought that sneaking an eleven-or was he twelve now?-boy into a military base so that they could use the simulators might not have been his brightest idea. But it wasn't like he was going to let the boy use his X-Wing.

"Wes?"

Muttering yet another curse under his breath, Wes straightened up. "Mirax. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for my husband," said the black harried woman. "You?"

"Uh…" Wes motioned toward the screen showing what Harry's X-Wing was doing.

Mirax gave him a suspicious look, then sat down next to him. "Who's in there?"

"Is Valin with you?"

"My son's with his grandfather. What are you hiding?" Her eyes widened. "Please tell me you're not actually teaching an Ewok to fly an X-Wing."

"Yeah. That's it," said Wes, breathing a sigh of relief. "You're not going to tell Wedge, are you?"

Mirax sighed. "I should, but I won't. I think I'll go back to looking for Corran. He was supposed to be off hours ago."

Once Mirax left, Wes went back to watching the screen. Wait-how? Never mind. He'd just review the recording later. Harry certainly seemed to be holding his own.

Then again, in the weeks he'd been training the boy, Wes had yet to see Harry do anything less than hold his own. The boy was a good shot, an amazing shot for somebody his age. Harry had yet to do anything other than fight dirty, something Wes certainly appreciated.

Luna Lovegood was not what one would call… sane. Not that she cared. Luna was of the firm opinion that sanity was overrated (and boring).

Although how Luna knew she was sanity challenged… that was something best not told. One look at the explanation would make any normal person think that anyone who believed such a thing really was crazy.

Not that Luna would ever tell about the night after her mother died. There'd been so much magic… in the air, the house… her body… until she was faced with a choice: leave the house and retain her sanity or stay… and risk having her mind overload.

Nobody was quite sure why she had chosen to stay. Nor did they know she'd even had such a choice. All anybody knew was that Luna had been an intelligent, happy child until the day her mother died and after her mother's death, something in Luna had snapped, leaving her… in her present condition.

Wedge Antilles paused, looked again, blinked, then let his jaw drop. Why the brix was Wes Janson showing a child the right way to shoot a blaster rifle?

With that in mind, Wedge walked to where Wes and the boy were. Somebody had to stop this nonsense.

"… don't forget, if you hold it wrong the recoil could bruise you," Wes was saying.

"I know, I know. You've told me a gazillion times," said the boy.

"Hemm hemm," said Wedge, clearing his throat.

Both boy and Wes looked up. Wes looked around nervously, then said, "Hey, Wedge. What are you doing here?"

"It's the base rifle range," said Wedge. "Why is a child here?"

"Uh…"

"Mr. Janson did something he shouldn't," the boy said. "And General… something ordered him to do community service and now he's my big brother. I don't get it though. What could he have done in a flight simulator with a Twi'lek?"

"Harry," said Wes.

"What? Is this about Mom? 'Cause she doesn't normally run after strange men shouting about child support."

"Ha-"

"And what did you mean when you said Grandma felt you up, anyway? And why did you ask Mom how much for an hour? And why did you and Mom go into her room for a really long time? What does Yub yub mean? You were shouting it a lot."

After a long moment, Wedge said, "Carry on," and beat a hasty retreat.

"I believe you owe me twenty credits."

Wes gaped at Harry. "I can't believe you-"

"Well you did bet that I couldn't make him run away," said Harry. "You really should have put some limitations on that."

With a sigh Wes handed over the credits.