Harry and Iris strolled down the cobblestone path in the Courtyard. The sounds of chirping birds, rustling leaves, and distant laughter floated through the air. Harry shot a glance at Iris; she wore a worried expression on her face.

"Harry, Haza we really need to do something about Quirrell," she said.

"Iri, tell me the truth, was it Quirrell, who placed the curse to make my broom go crazy?" He asked her with an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

"It was," Iris replied with a heavy sigh, her gaze drifting away from him.

"Then we really need to do something about him," Harry murmured.

Just then Hagrid appeared from behind them, his booming voice echoing in the courtyard. "Nonsense! Why would Quirrell put a curse on Harry's broom?" Hagrid exclaimed looking bewildered.

"Who knows? Why was he trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween?" Harry proposed.

Hagrid swivelled his large head toward them, his bushy beard bristling with suspicion. "Who told you about Fluffy?"

Iris stared at him incredulously. "Fluffy? That...thing has a name?"

Harry added in surprise.

Hagrid let out a hearty chuckle. "Well of course he's got a name! He's mine. I bought him off an Irish feller I met down at the pub last year. Then I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the..." Hagrid stopped midsentence and clamped his mouth shut, frowning. "Shouldn't have said that. No more questions! Don't ask any more questions. That's top secret, that is."

"But, Hagrid, whatever Fluffy's guarding, Professor Qurriell is trying to steal it," said Harry, pointing at the dark figure in the shadows.

Iris stepped forward, her voice urgent and serious. "Harry's right! I've seen Quirrell doing some kind of spell. He was keeping eye contact with this giant dog, like he was trying to control it or something."

Hagrid sighed heavily and shook his head. "Now listen to me, both of yeh. You're meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous. What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

Harry turned to Iris, perplexed. "Nicholas Flamel?"

Hagrid then mumbled something about not sharing too much information before leaving the room. Harry spun around, still confused. "Who's Nicholas Flamel?"

Iris' eyes widened as she grabbed onto Harry's arm. "He created the Philosopher's Stone, a stone that can create an elixir of life and grant immortality," her voice trembled with excitement. "Brother we need to tell our master. I have a feeling what is going on and we are just Padawans; we need the help of Jedi Masters, Satele Shan and Jedi Master Silandra Comoran."

"I know Iri, do you have your Datapad, I left mine in the apartment," said Harry.

"Haza, how do you think Master Shan and Master Comoran have been keeping in touch with me," said Iris, "And following are progress, we need to tell them everything even what happened to your broom during your quidditch match"

Harry's mind raced. The implications of the Philosopher's Stone and Quirrell's involvement were bad enough, but the potential threat of its powers falling into the wrong hands was catastrophic. Having the knowledge and support of the Jedi Masters was imperative.

They quickly made their way back to their dorms where they found Iris' Datapad and brought it back to the courtyard She turned it on, revealing a blue holo-projected interface. After some brief typing, the projection showed a shimmering blue image of Master Satele Shan.

"Master Shan," greeted Harry, bowing slightly.

"Iris, Harry," Satele responded, her voice calm but curious. "What news do you bring?"

Harry and Iris took turns recounting the recent events, from the cursed broom to the conversation with Hagrid. Throughout their recounting, the expression of Satele Shan remained thoughtful, absorbing every detail.

Master Silandra Comoran's hologram soon joined the conversation. "So Quirrell aims to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone. The potential damage that can cause is enormous," she said, her face grave.

Harry nodded. "And with him potentially using dark forces to manipulate creatures like Fluffy, it seems he won't stop at anything."

Master Shan spoke up, "The Philosopher's Stone in itself is a powerful artifact, but in the hands of someone corrupted by the dark side, it can bring unspeakable devastation."

"Your insight into these events is timely," Master Comoran added. "We need to act swiftly."

"We'll assist from our end as much as we can, but it's crucial you two remain vigilant and alert," Master Shan instructed.

Iris nodded. "We will, Master Shan."

"Remember the teachings of the Force," Master Comoran said. "Stay connected with it, and let it guide you."

"Anything else we should know about Quirrell," said Master Shan.

"Yes, we have been sensing something sinister from his head ever since we met him in Diagon Alley," said Iris, "Haza and I have been keeping an eye on him discreetly. There's something... or someone else there with him. It's like he's not alone inside his own mind."

Harry continued, "There are times when I feel a familiar dark presence emanating from him, similar to the one we felt during the ambush on Nar Shaddaa last year. It's as if he's being influenced or possessed by a darker entity."

Master Shan's eyes widened slightly, "This is indeed concerning. Possession by a dark entity can amplify one's power and ruthlessness. The Force has shown visions of a dark shadow rising, but the details have been unclear."

Master Comoran added, "This connection you've made, Harry, could be a significant piece of the puzzle. If Quirrell is being influenced or even controlled by a more powerful dark force, then it would explain his sudden interest in the Philosopher's Stone and his audacity in attempting to steal it."

Iris interjected, "But what does this dark force want with the Philosopher's Stone? Immortality?"

Master Shan pondered, "Perhaps, or it might seek the Stone for other darker purposes we cannot fathom yet. Either way, its possession of such an artifact would be disastrous."

"Then it's settled," Master Comoran said decisively. "We'll consult with the Council and see if we can confront Quirrell, In the meantime we need you to watch and protect that stone but do not engage Quirrell, unless absolutely necessary."

Harry clenched his fist. "We won't let him get his hands on it."

Iris glanced at Harry, sensing his determination. "We'll protect the stone and everyone at Hogwarts."

Master Shan nodded, "Do remember, while direct confrontation may be necessary, subtlety and stealth will serve you well. Keep your intentions hidden until the right moment."

Harry acknowledged with a nod, "Understood."

Master Comoran added, "Trust in each other, trust in the Force, and do not let fear guide your actions. Fear is a path to the dark side."

"I've seen what the dark side can do," Harry murmured, recalling the haunting memories from Nar Shaddaa. "We won't let it gain any more power here."

As the conversation drew to a close, Master Shan spoke up one last time, "May the Force be with you both. You carry not just our hopes, but those of countless souls who could be affected by the outcome of this endeavour."

"Padawans we will report what the High Council decides," said Master Comoran "May the force be with you,"

Iris took a deep breath, "Thank you, Masters. We'll do our best."

After closing the datapad Iris turned to Harry, "What happened in Nar Shaddaa?" asked Iris. "I know you and Master Shan went there to discuss a treaty to bring an end to the great galactic war, but you came back an entirely different person."

"It was my first mission outside a training mission, I had just turned 10. The naive excitement of seeing a new world quickly turned into a nightmare," Harry began, his eyes darkening with the memories.

In the neon-lit alleyways of Nar Shadaar, Jedi Master Satele Shan and her young Padawan, Harry Potter, landed quietly, their starship a discreet presence amidst the chaos. The noise of the city was a distant hum as Harry took in his surroundings, his youthful eyes darting about with a mix of curiosity and caution.

"Remember Harry," Master Shan began, "the Force flows even in the most unexpected places. Do not let your guard down."

Harry nodded, gripping his lightsaber hilt. "I understand, Master. But if they truly want peace, shouldn't we trust them?"

Satele gave a rueful smile, "Trust, but verify."

As they walked toward the meeting point, a group of Sith representatives greeted them. Their leader, a tall woman with crimson tattoos marking her pale face, extended a hand, "Welcome, Jedi. We've awaited this meeting."

Hours went by as the two factions discussed terms. To Harry, it all seemed genuine, until the last handshakes were made. Suddenly, a surge of dark energy permeated the air, and from the shadows emerged numerous Sith warriors, sabres ignited.

"It's a Trap!" Satele shouted, igniting her own sabre and moving swiftly, deflecting multiple strikes, trying to shield Harry from the onslaught.

But it was all too much, too fast. Both Jedi were quickly overwhelmed and captured. In the dim confines of a chamber, Harry, bound and helpless, felt the cold, hard floor underneath him.

Harry could feel Master Shan's mental touch, comforting him, "Stay calm, Harry. We'll find a way."

Days dragged on, each filled with silence, interrupted only by the intermittent visits of their captors. Harry's thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and anger. But it was on that fateful night, when the Sith guards took Master Shan away, that Harry felt an indescribable pain.

He felt her suffering, her screams echoing in the depths of his soul. Anger bubbled within him, a desire to break free and save his master, to unleash his wrath upon their captors.

Hours later, when a bruised and battered Master Shan was returned to the cell, she reached out to Harry, "Focus, Harry. Do not let the dark side consume you."

Harry's voice was strained, "I felt everything, Master. They hurt you. How can I not want revenge?"

Master Shan's voice, though weak, was firm, "Vengeance will not lead us out. Hope will."

Their salvation came in the form of Jedi Shadows, who, after days of searching, managed to locate the hidden chamber. As they were freed, Harry's relief was palpable, but so was the trauma of his experience.

As they journeyed back, Satele gazed at her Padawan, "The scars of this ordeal will remain, but remember, it is our choice whether to let them define us or make us stronger. The order found us. We were rescued, but the scars, especially the mental ones, stayed."

Iris looked at Harry, her eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. "That's why you're so driven, so determined. You've seen the worst of the galaxy, and you're determined to prevent it from happening again."

Harry's face contorted as memories of his first week at Hogwarts flooded back. He could still feel the fear that had ballooned inside him when he saw Master Snape enter the classroom and hear his low, menacing voice. "That is also why," Harry continued, his voice trembling slightly, "when I used the dark side of the force against him...I took it so hard."

Iris reached out, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's a struggle all Jedi face, Harry. The temptation of the dark side. What happened with Master Snape was a reaction to past traumas. But remember, it's not the fall that defines us, but how we rise from it."

Harry met her gaze, searching her eyes for any hint of judgment or condemnation. Finding none, he murmured, "I feared losing control again, hurting someone else because of my past."

"That's the strength of your character," Iris said softly. "You recognize the danger, and you work to overcome it. The past can't be changed, but the future, our actions now, that's what truly matters."

Harry gave a weak smile, "Thank you, Iris. It's just... hard, sometimes, to remember who I am amidst all the chaos."

"And that's why we have each other," Iris said with a smile, squeezing his shoulder gently. "To remind and support. Together, we're stronger than any dark force."

Iris's datapad gave an electronic chirp and lit up with a blue hologram of Jedi Grandmaster Zym. She answered, her heart pounding as she watched the figure on the screen.

"Padawans," the Grandmaster's voice was deep and resonant, "I have just been informed of your conversation with Masters Shan and Comoran. The situation with Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone is indeed grave."

Harry and Iris bowed their heads slightly in respect. "Grandmaster Zym," Harry began, "we are prepared to do whatever it takes to protect the stone and prevent the rise of this dark entity."

Zym nodded, "Your dedication is commendable. However, this mission demands more than just valour. It requires wisdom, restraint, and unity."

Iris spoke up, "We understand, Grandmaster. We've been training and working together, relying on the Force and each other."

Grandmaster Zym's holographic eyes narrowed, "While the Force is with you, remember that the enemy you face is cunning and relentless. Do not underestimate them, but also do not overestimate your own abilities. Arrogance can be as dangerous as fear. Before I authorize action, please note that we have forces fighting the Sith empire in a tough battle at Alderaan, so I want to explain everything to me about your DADA Professor Quirrell,"

Harry took a deep breath, "Master Quirrell, initially, seemed like a timid man, almost cowardly in nature. When we first encountered him in Diagon Alley, he was jittery and easily startled. But even then, Iris and I felt something... off about him, a darkness lurking beneath the surface."

Iris added, "He's been teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts course at Hogwarts. But his lessons, rather than empowering students, seem to focus on instilling fear and unease about the magical creatures and dark forces."

Harry continued, "His obsession with the Philosopher's Stone became evident after our conversation with Hagrid. We believe he's the one who released the troll in the castle as a distraction while he tried to breach the protections guarding the stone."

Iris interjected, "Additionally, during the Quidditch match, Haza felt a dark force attacking his broom, trying to make him fall. We are certain it was Quirrell using some form of dark magic or perhaps even the Force, to interfere."

Harry's gaze hardened, "What concerns us the most, Grandmaster, is not just his actions but the feeling of a presence, a dark entity within him. It feels as though he's not alone in his own mind. It's as if there's a powerful force or being guiding or manipulating him from within."

Grandmaster Zym pondered their words for a moment. "The implications of this are dire. The presence of a dark entity suggests a much larger threat than just Quirrell's desire for the stone. And if he is indeed being influenced or controlled by a force more powerful than him, then we must tread cautiously. It's not just about stopping him from getting the stone; we must also understand this greater darkness lurking behind."

Harry nodded, "We're also trying to gather more information discreetly, without drawing undue attention to our investigations. We believe this will give us an advantage."

Iris said, "We're working in collaboration with a few of our friends at Hogwarts. They've been invaluable allies, offering us insights into the magical world that we might not have otherwise."

Zym's holographic image nodded in approval, "Good. Remember, in challenging times, allies can be your greatest strength. But also be wary; trust must be earned. The dark side is deceptive and can corrupt even the purest of hearts."

"We understand, Grandmaster," Harry said firmly. "We will not let our guard down."

"Very well," Zym responded. "Stay vigilant, trust in the Force, and remember that you are not alone in this battle. I will authorize Deputy Grandmaster Satele Shan and Master Silandra Comoran, to intervene as they see fit. They will provide guidance, resources, and backup if required."

Iris's eyes lit up with gratitude, "Thank you, Grandmaster. We appreciate the support."

Zym's holographic image faded slightly as he concluded, "Remember, the line between the dark side and the light is thin. Walk it with care. May the Force be with you."

As the hologram disappeared, Harry and Iris looked at each other, and their resolve strengthened. They had a mission ahead of them, and with the support of the Jedi Order, they felt more confident in their ability to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Let's get back to our training," Harry said. "We need to be at our best."

Iris nodded, "We will be ready."

The next day, Harry took his seat between Iris and Susan Bones at the Hufflepuff table in the great hall. Hannah Abbott appeared stunned to see a Gryffindor amongst her fellow badgers, but Harry didn't miss a beat.

"Can you tell me why a Gryffindor is seated with badgers again?" asked Hannah skeptically.

"I want to be next to my twin," said Harry, motioning towards Iris. "It's been too long since we sat together."

The doors slammed open and Satele and Silandra strode through, their matching Jedi robes billowing behind them. They took in the scene before them with a single glance – Iris and Harry huddled together, Quirrell standing resolutely in defiance.

Iris whispered to Harry, her voice low and urgent. "Haza, I think we're about to see one of your master's famous verbal beatdowns – and you won't be the one at the receiving end this time."

"I think you're right, Iri," said Harry, nodding towards his master. He noticed that Silandra was holding her lightsaber hilt – although it remained unlit for now. "Look - your master has her lightsaber in her hand. It's just not on yet."

Satele's crystal blue eyes locked with Harry's intense green gaze and, for a moment, the air between them seemed to still, as if they were connected by an invisible tether. She didn't speak aloud; instead, her words entered his mind soft and clear. "Padawan Potter, please do not interfere. We have this handled. You both have done enough by informing us about your DADA Professor Master Quirrell. You are not ready for something like this. Please pass this message on to Padawan Iris Potter."

Harry nodded gravely before turning to Iris beside him. "Let's not interfere with what's about to happen," he said.

"Wasn't planning on it," Iris replied. "That is between Masters Shan and Comoran, and Professor Quirrell. Besides, only Professor Flitwick knows what Jedi really is."

"Quintus Quirrell, can you tell me you saw it fit to be bold and curse my apprentice's broom while he was playing a game in front of everyone with dark magic," said Satele as Silandra took a defensive position still holding her powered off lightsaber.

Quirrell stuttered, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Silandra stepped forward, her grip on the lightsaber tightening. "Do not lie, Quirrell. Our Force senses do not deceive us."

The Great Hall went silent, every student's eyes fixed on the confrontation. The professors seated at the head table watched with a mix of curiosity and concern. Dumbledore's gaze was especially keen, watching the interaction intently.

Satele continued, "Dark magic leaves traces, Quirrell. And while the magical community here may not sense it the same way, Jedi can. The dark energy surrounding your actions that day was unmistakable."

Quirrell's eyes darted around, looking for an escape route, but he was well and truly cornered. "You have no proof," he spat back, defiance in his tone. But his eyes betrayed the hint of fear that lay beneath.

Silandra's voice was cold. "We do not need the same proofs as wizards. The Force has shown us the truth."

Hermione whispered to Ron, "What is this Force they keep talking about?"

Ron shrugged, equally intrigued and befuddled. "Dunno, but it seems like a big deal."

Hannah Abbott, still reeling from the sight of a Gryffindor in their midst, whispered, "Who are these people?"

Iris replied, her voice low, "Jedi Masters. They've trained Harry and I; I will explain everything later as long as you promise not to tell anyone."

Satele's face was stern as she stepped forward, her gaze locked on Quirrell. Her hands moved gracefully, intertwining in a gesture of protection towards the young one. "I've already told our apprentices to stay out of it," she said, her voice soft but clear. "They are not ready for this." Her eyes narrowed and she leaned closer. "I wonder if it is you who speaks or if it is the wraith attached to your body?

Quirrell visibly stiffened, his face paling further. "W-what do you mean?" he demanded, but there was a tremor in his voice.

"It's not just your dark actions that give you away, Quirrell," Silandra interjected. "The dark presence clinging to you, trying to hide in the shadows of your mind, is palpable to us."

The murmur in the Great Hall grew louder as students exchanged glances, whispers of Voldemort's possible return circulating rapidly. The professors looked at each other, alarmed by the revelation, but Dumbledore's face remained impassive.

Quirrell laughed nervously. "You think you can intimidate me with your vague threats and strange powers? Hogwarts is my home, and you have no jurisdiction here."

Silandra took another step forward, her lightsaber humming to life, its radiant green glow casting shadows across Quirrell's face. "You are right. Hogwarts is your home, and we respect its rules. But that does not mean we will stand idly by while dark forces endanger its students."

Satele narrowed her eyes at Quirrell, her hands coming up to make a gesture for Silandra to begin working. "Silandra, on my signal conjure a protection bubble; I'm going to try and force the wraith out of him. We can't risk it attempting to possess someone else, even if this possession was willing."

Silandra nodded, readying herself. Her fingers danced gracefully as she prepared the protection bubble, a translucent shimmering sphere ready to be summoned at a moment's notice.

Satele took a deep breath, centring herself, her eyes focused intently on Quirrell. The hall was silent, the air thick with tension, every pair of eyes fixed on the scene unfolding.

With a swift movement, Satele thrust her hands forward, channelling the Force in an attempt to expel the dark wraith possessing Quirrell. A cold, chilling wind seemed to blow through the hall as Quirrell screamed in pain, his body writhing in agony.

Satele saw Quirrell raise his wand, and without hesitation, she ignited her lightstaff. Two azure blades sprang to life at each end of its hilt as a chorus of sparks and hisses filled the air. "Avada Kadavra!" Quirrell shouted, sending a jet of emerald energy hurtling towards her.

Satele's reflexes were a blur as she spun her lightstaff, deflecting the deadly curse, causing it to ricochet into a nearby stone pillar. The pillar crumbled slightly at the impact, scattering bits of rock across the hall.

Silandra, at that moment, activated the protection bubble, encompassing both Quirrell and Satele within. The luminous sphere shimmered, its ethereal boundary warding off all external magical or Force interferences.

Iris grabbed Harry's arm, the twins' shared anxiety palpable. They had seen their masters in action before, but not in a direct confrontation with a dark wizard possessed by the likes of Voldemort.

The wraith-like spectre began to detach itself from Quirrell, its shadowy form a grotesque mockery of a man, with snakelike features and red glowing eyes – the visage of Voldemort's fragmented soul. It hissed at Satele, clearly distressed from the forceful eviction.

"I am Lord Voldemort! I am a god! I am Immortal!" The wraith spat, circling Satele like a predator.

"And I am a Jedi, I have faced Sith dark lords, and the soul fragment you left in my Apprentice when you decided to go after them when they were a few months old," said Satele, her voice calm and unwavering. "Your fractured existence is a testament to your own hubris and misdeeds."

Satele stepped forward and addressed the dark figure. "Silandra, protect the young ones," she ordered before shifting her gaze to Voldemort. Her face was expressionless but in her voice there was a hint of sadness. "I don't think that is your real name. You created it out of fear - fear of what people would think of you. You falsely championed yourself as a champion of pure-blood beliefs, even though you were not a pure-blood yourself."

Satele continued, the sorrowful tone growing more prominent. "You were probably orphaned at a young age and grew up being bullied for being different. But when you turned 11, you got your letter to attend school here and once again you were persecuted because you weren't a pure-blood. So to make people fear you, you became addicted to dark magic and sought power in all the wrong places. You surrounded yourself with those who admired your strength, yet feared you in the same breath. You detached yourself from any semblance of love or humanity, choosing instead to fragment your soul in a desperate attempt at immortality. But, in the end, it has brought you here: a broken remnant, hiding in another's body, skulking in the shadows."

The wraith-like Voldemort hissed, swirling with anger and hate, but there was a flicker of something else in those red eyes, perhaps the pain of a past long buried. "You know nothing of my pain," it hissed.

"I do not claim to know your entire story," Satele replied, "But the Force gives insight into the core of beings. Your hatred, your need for control, stems from a place of deep pain and abandonment. But that doesn't excuse the choices you made, the lives you destroyed."

Voldemort seemed to falter for a moment, the raw truth cutting through his defences. "It doesn't matter," he whispered with bitterness. "All that matters is power. And I have it."

"Do you, though?" Satele asked softly. "True power isn't about control or fear. It's about understanding, compassion, and selflessness. You've sacrificed so much in your blind pursuit, including the very essence of what makes one human. What you see as strength, I see as profound weakness."

Voldemort roared in fury, lunging towards Satele, who merely sidestepped, her mastery of the Force evident. "You cannot defeat me! I am eternal!"

"Perhaps," Satele said calmly, "but every darkness meets its dawn. Every end is a beginning." With that, she closed her eyes, channelling the Force to bind the wraith-like Voldemort, immobilizing him in a shimmering cage of light.

Voldemort's wraith lunged at Satele, but she deftly parried his advances with her lightstaff, the azure blades casting an eerie glow inside the protection bubble.

"Your dark power, however potent, is no match for the Force," Satele continued, her voice taking on a meditative cadence. "Your broken soul is unstable and weak. Even in your prime, you were never a god, merely a deluded wizard consumed by his own ambitions."

"Satele, be careful, we can't contain him fully right now we need to banish him, if we do that it will be another year or so before he can return but that is the best course of action," said Silandra.

"So, Jedi, Quirrell was a weakling and even then, he willingly allowed me to Possess him, I think I am going to try to possess you, as you are strong and it will not be willingly," said Voldemort.

The wraith-like Voldemort lunged at Satele once more, a dark hunger evident in his red eyes, but Satele, ever the seasoned Jedi, was ready. She grounded herself, letting the Force flow through her, a bulwark against the malevolence before her.

Voldemort's attempt to enter her was rebuffed by the sheer intensity of Satele's connection to the Force. Every time the wraith attempted to seep through her defences, it was thrown back, the ethereal glow of the Force lighting up the area around her.

Inside the protection bubble, a battle raged on, not just of physical prowess, but of wills. Silandra could see that Satele was employing a technique known to very few Jedi, a form of meditation that created an almost impenetrable barrier against dark forces.

Silandra, sensing an opportunity, began to draw upon the Force herself. Holding her hands out, she began to channel energy around the spectre, causing him to be trapped in a swirling vortex of light. It was clear Voldemort was not accustomed to such an attack; his wraith form struggled, his red eyes darting about in panic.

Outside the bubble, the entirety of Hogwarts watched, breathless. The confrontation between a dark wizard's soul and two Jedi Masters was an unprecedented spectacle. Even the professors, many of whom had seen their share of magical duels, were in awe.

Inside the bubble, Satele began to recite an ancient Jedi mantra, her voice resonating with calm and authority. "In the Light, there is Strength. In the Light, there is Unity. In the Light, there is Peace."

With every word, the vortex around Voldemort tightened, his dark form becoming less defined, more shadowy. The dark tendrils of energy that had been emanating from him began to weaken, his attempts to break free from the vortex becoming increasingly desperate.

Harry and Iris, watching closely, could feel the power emanating from their masters. The Force was strong with them, and Voldemort, for all his bluster, was being contained. Harry whispered to Iris, "He's weakening. They're doing it."

But Voldemort was not one to be easily subdued. With a primal scream, he gathered all his dark energy, making one last, desperate push against the constraints of the vortex.

Yet, as the darkness met the relentless wave of Light being channelled by the Jedi, it was extinguished, like a shadow fleeing from the morning sun.

The dark spectre that was Voldemort's soul was cast out from Hogwarts and banished into the ether. The protection bubble faded, leaving a panting Satele and Silandra in its wake. Quirrell, his body now free of the dark influence, collapsed unconscious.

The hall erupted in murmurs and whispers, the students and professors trying to process what they had just witnessed. Dumbledore rose from his seat, his eyes meeting Satele's. "Thank you, Masters Shan and Comoran, for protecting our students and our school," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Satele nodded, her expression solemn. "The dark presence may be banished, but it is not truly gone. We must remain vigilant."

Silandra turned to the headmaster. "He will return, but for now, Hogwarts is safe."

Iris and Harry rushed to their masters, relief evident in their eyes. "That was... intense," Harry muttered.

Iris nodded in agreement. "Thank you for saving us. Again."

"Padawans it's our duty to save you, remember the oath we took when we took you in," said Satele. her eyes bore into the two Padawans, her voice stern. "Remember the oath you took when we took you in," she said, her words heavy with meaning.

Iris replied with a firm, "I do".

Satele nodded and softened her gaze. "Before we report to Grandmaster Zym, I want to hear from both of you. What did you learn today?" She clasped her hands together and waited for their response.

Harry took a moment, the weight of the recent events settling upon him. He looked up, his green eyes meeting Satele's blue ones. "I learned that dark forces can take many forms and that sometimes, facing them head-on isn't always the best strategy. The Force can be both a shield and a sword, and understanding when to use it is crucial."

Iris nodded in agreement, adding her thoughts. "I learned the importance of trust. Trust in our training, trust in the Force, and trust in those who guide us. While our instincts might have been to jump in and help, today taught me that sometimes the best way to help is to step back and let those more experienced handle things."

Satele smiled, a glimmer of pride evident in her eyes. "Very well said, both of you. Remember, the journey of a Jedi is continuous. Every experience, every battle, is a lesson. And while today was certainly... intense, it's just another step in your path towards becoming a true Jedi."

Silandra added, "You both did well today, by informing us and by understanding the larger role the Force plays in these battles. While your wizarding world has its strengths, the Force adds another dimension to it. Combining both will make you formidable, but always remember, with great power comes great responsibility."

Satele turned to Dumbledore "Headmaster, Quirrell is still alive, he just needs medical attention, as tomorrow is the first day of charismas break do you mind if we take our apprentices home, early"

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, then nodded. "Given the events of today, I believe that would be wise. Besides, I think both young Potters could use some time away to reflect on what transpired here. But we must convene soon to discuss the broader implications of Voldemort's attempted return."

Satele nodded in agreement. "Of course, Headmaster. We will be ready to meet and discuss when you deem it necessary."

Silandra approached Iris and Harry, placing a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. "Time to pack up. We have a long journey ahead. We have to report this to Tython."

Harry looked around the Great Hall, the lingering effects of the battle evident on the faces of students and professors alike. "It feels strange leaving now," he murmured.

Iris glanced at him, her expression contemplative. "Sometimes, Haza, it's necessary to take a step back in order to move forward. I think we both need a bit of distance to understand what happened today."

They quickly made their way to their towers, gathering their belongings. The twins shared a quiet moment of reflection as they looked out the window towards the Forbidden Forest, the sun setting in the distance.

"Today changed a lot of things," Harry finally said, breaking the silence.

Iris nodded. "It did. But we have our masters, our training, and each other. We'll get through this."

AN; This is the second last chapter to the first act of this fic. thank you to a review who gave me this idea without realizing you did.