The Parting of Ways

Edelweiss slipped Lady Bastila's holocron into her largest pocket as she departed Lord Salazar's office. She shared pleasant farewells with them both. To Lady Bastila, she promised to speak with her soon. Lord Salazar did inquire after which part of the year it was, and upon hearing the end of term was in a few days, he made his sole requirement that she grow in power and return once the summer hols had concluded.

"As you wish, Lord Salazar," she said with a shallow bow.

She returned to the Chamber the way she had come, crossing thresholds of metal and stone alike. As Edelweiss climbed the stairs back to the Chamber proper, her hand slipped into the pocket holding Bastila's holocron, caressing the glass and metal structure. It sang to her, oddly alive thanks to the power they called the Force. A feral grin sprung onto her face, thinking of the lesson she may have in the near future. Her promise to Lord Salazar would certainly be fulfilled.

She considered whether or not she should return to Gryffindor Tower. Doing so would delay when she might finally speak with Lady Bastila, given the lack of privacy. She could not think of a place in the tower where she might be free of Hermione's well-intended nosiness. The holocron she now possessed and her newfound Force powers had to be kept a secret. None could know about it; not the Weasleys, not Hermione, not even Sirius.

And definitely not Dumbledore, Edelweiss reflected. Rancid anger, restless and years old, roiled at the thought of the Headmaster. Despite what others might say, she had little love for him. It was at his insistence that she continued returning to the Dursley household, where she was unwanted.

The crimson crystal glowered fiercely when she turned her gaze toward it. Edelweiss closed her, sunk into the power she could now name, and reached out for it. The wrath she felt earlier lingered, still potent, yet now it was familiar. It felt like a reflection of the anger she found easy to hold onto tightly, a reminder of when her temper became so fierce it erupted forth, as if she were an avatar of wrath and ruin. She would deliver a great reckoning upon her enemies.

And perhaps that is my fate, she thought ruefully. Once I am a Sith Lord, I shall be remade in an image all my own.

Edelweiss approached the crystal, scaling the stone pyramid it was set in. Her hand drew close to the crystal, and it thrummed with cold power. Perhaps, she thought, this is the dark side. Her heartbeat matched the crystal's thrumming, falling into sync with the power around her. Just as the Force had drawn her to Lord Salazar's final secret and the holocrons he brought from worlds beyond, it was now drawing her to this crystal.

Yet when she reached out to pluck it from its stone mount, she paused. Something, the Force perhaps, whispered to her. Edelweiss realized as she minded the whispers that the time had yet to come. The crystal was not hers to claim upon this day. One day that would change. On that day, the crystal would beckon, and she would learn its purpose. But for now, she would leave the crystal where it rested.

Lady Bastila's holocron would be her great prize for discovering Lord Salazar's hidden legacy.

Her return to the castle passed in a blur. Edelweiss knew from years of experience that she used her parselmouth skill twice in the process: once while departing the Chamber of Secrets and a second time to force the pipe down into a staircase, so she could climb up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. If there was any way into the Chamber she could sacrifice to outside knowledge and attention, it was the obvious one, the one used two years prior throughout the Heir of Slytherin crisis. She considered whether it would be worth the time or energy to improve this particular path between Hogwarts and the Chamber. Most of the other routes she knew deposited her down in the dungeons, closer to the Slytherin common room than she liked.

I should pursue ways out that will consistently set me on the first or second floors instead, Edelweiss thought as she approached her exit. For now, I'll let it be a matter to worry about come September. I should try to focus on Lady Bastila, when I may speak with her next, and what teachings of hers I can expect during the hols. Her holocron may be more valuable than any summer homework the professors will ever assign.

The central sink complex of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom groaned open when Edelweiss reached the top of the long, spiraling stairwell. As it sealed behind her, a familiar face topped with bushy hair stepped out of a nearby stall, arms crossed. Edelweiss sighed as Hermione Granger moved in between her and the bathroom's exit, a mulish frown directed her way. A moment later, her friend said accusingly, "You've been going down into the Chamber."

"Yes, I have." She rolled her eyes before adding, "Been doing so since third year. You were too busy time-traveling to notice."

Before Edelweiss could try and push her way past, Hermione strode over to her and placed an unwanted hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to isolate yourself from Ron and me, Edie. After what happened with Cedric—"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Edelweiss hissed. She felt her tongue draw back—a now familiar sign of her parselmouth ability. She pushed it forward before she continued speaking. "I've woken from enough nightmares about his death to know I am in no mood to talk about what happened that night. I understand you want me to talk about it to you, but there are things I will not burden you with, Hermione." She took a moment to draw in a deep breath, which she released slowly. "Please. Let it be. I have made my decision. Respect it."

Hermione huffed, her bushy hair becoming almost wild. For a moment, it seemed she might press her issue further. But then she sighed, deflating, and Edelweiss knew her friend had swallowed her concerns.

Edelweiss did not smile at her victory, for that risked having Hermione change her mind about how long to keep her opinions to herself. How long her silence would last depended more on Edelweiss's actions during the final days of term compared to anything else. At best, she would avoid the looming conversation about the night of the Third Task until they were board the Hogwarts Express, en route to London and the beginning of the summer hols.

Her luck would never grant the reprieve from trouble she desired—perhaps even needed—though perhaps thanks to it she found Lord Salazar and his Sith holocrons. Those, she increasingly believed, would be the solution to her dark lord problem.

They headed up to Gryffindor Tower, one before the other, a couple feet of separation between them. They crossed half of the second floor before reaching Staircase Hall. Dozens of shifting stairs swiveled and swung around the massive chamber, guiding students from landings up on the seventh floor down to the ground level. At the base was a doorway to a narrow hall linking the dungeons, the castle's grounds, and the Great Hall to the multitude of stairs. With the wrong swing, it was easy to end up in one of many abandoned sections of the castle, where ambient magic played havoc with that which had once been used and was now left behind.

Edelweiss barely noticed giving the Fat Lady the password as she stormed across the threshold, through the common room, and up to her dormitory. Where Hermione might be didn't matter to her at the moment. She reached out with her feelings, grasping awkwardly onto that strange power of the Force, and focused it upon a fifth year descending from her dormitory. The girl glanced at Edelweiss as they came into each other's sight, a discomforted frown marring her fine face.

She met the older girl's gaze, and with tremendous focus, flashed what she desired through her eyes. The suggestion took hold, for the girl's eyes went glassy. A moment passed as she stood still, and then mumbled, "I should speak with Granger about her OWLs."

It was only when Edelweiss reached her dormitory, thankfully empty, that she realized she was grinning widely. She grasped Lady Bastila's holocron instinctively, struck by a powerful impulse to awaken the woman and boast of what she had done. Only now did she realize it had been the Force, not her magic, which influenced that girl. After a moment, she let go and drew her hand away from the strange pyramid of crystal and metal and ancient knowledge.

There would be time later to speak with her future master.

The Leaving Feast was held the day before their morning departure for London. The entire body of Hogwarts was gathered, sat in their appropriate place, with the remaining visiting bodies from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang sitting amongst the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, just as they had been since October. Edelweiss gazed out over the crowd, avoiding the obvious gap left at the Hufflepuff table. Her gut twisted, wishing once against that she had stunned Cedric Diggory instead of allowing her foolish, Gryffindor sense of fairness distract from her gut instincts. Perhaps if she had found those holocrons earlier, she could have prevented his death. She could have stopped Wormtail. She could have prevented Voldemort's return.

But none of that had happened. Cedric was dead, and her immortal foe was returned.

Pitch-black banners hung from the rafters, passing through the magical sky like birds of prey above carrion. They set a mood that slunk into Edelweiss's bones, all the way down to the marrow. She more played with her food that ate it, and that which she did eat tasted like ash in her mouth. The richness she had always associated with the feasts at Hogwarts was gone, and she glared several times at the golden plates as if they had offended her.

Cedric Diggory was dead because of her. The mood of mourning was her fault. She had been too weak to fight back the spectre of death.

When September arrived, she would be more powerful. She swore it, upon her blood and the magic in her veins. The holocron sitting in her trunk, nestled between her clothes, would ensure her ascendancy. She already had a faint grasp upon how to manipulate the Force, how it allowed her to move heavy objects with only her will, and deceive those she wished. It was a magnificent power, perfect for augmenting her magical knowledge, and she desired nothing more as the feast stretched on than to pour into the depths it offered her. Had she her way, she would have already communed with Lady Bastila; her time, however, had been occupied by others.

The more she thought about the Force, the more she realized it was something greater than magic, reaching beyond the limited corners of Earth. From what she had seen and heard beneath the Chamber of Secrets, she knew with grim certainty that Salazar Slytherin had come to this planet from elsewhere in the cosmos. He had found a reason to land in Britain. There had been a ship of metal, designed not for the atmosphere like muggle craft, but for the cold depths of space. The ship possessed no wings, only a sleek black hull like the underside of a new warship.

At the Head Table, Dumbledore rose from his tall golden throne. It was hard not to sneer at the ostentatious sight, though she couldn't help but respect the implicit power his gaudy seat projected. Despite her feelings about the man, she could not deny her respect for his power. She could easily hate him for sending her to the Dursleys, year after year, and yet living there had saved her life—once. Now, however, she had no reason to believe those blood wards were anything more than set dressing.

A shame he didn't see it that way, but she doubted he had listened. He never did.

"Another year gone, another year passed," the Headmaster began, a quiet tenor to his voice. "Bonds of friendship were built, both here within Hogwarts and with our respected foreign guests. Later today, they will return to their homelands, hopefully with bonds of friendship built strong enough to last despite the distance that will separate us. For every bond built this year that lasts, the brighter the world, and our shared future, shall be.

"However, there is one matter that I must speak to. On the night of the Third Task, we lost one of our best and brightest: Cedric Diggory. He was a friend and a prefect, a beloved member of this body and a respected Quidditch player. He embodied every value not only of his own House, Hufflepuff, but those of the other three. He was courageous, like a Gryffindor, and wise as a Ravenclaw. He had his own brand of Slytherin cunning, channeled through the loyal and hard-working nature of Hufflepuff.

"On that night when we lost him, he was not killed by accident or tragedy. He was murdered, by Lord Voldemort."

There was a huge gasp, the air sucked out of the Great Hall. Edelweiss could feel the shock and fear spread by Dumbledore naming Voldemort so publicly, and she was pleasantly surprised by how that fear and shock poured into her, a power she could all but drink. She would need to remember this moment and speak to Lady Bastila about it.

"Do not be mistaken: he has returned. Outside of these walls, scared voices will reject the truth, hoping that if they ignore the evil released upon our society, it will not exist. However, I cannot in good faith send you back to your families without warning you of the coming danger. Some of you will be swayed by the arguments of his followers, but their words are little more than false promises. Lord Voldemort cares not for the bloodline of his victims. Regardless of their blood, he targeted those who would now bow and scrape before him—and always when they were separated from each other.

"Fear not, however. For as deep as the darkness may be, it will always be overcome by the light. Family and love are things he cannot understand, and upon them the strength of Hogwarts is built. When you leave once more, I know you will take them with you into the world outside these walls."

Even as the Great Hall was filled with awkward clapping, Edelweiss couldn't help but fume. When she had been eleven, newly scarred by her second encounter with Voldemort, Dumbledore refused to tell her why her family had been targeted. It had been safe then to assume it was because they opposed him, yet something in her bones told her it was a lie. That something deeper, more fundamental drove him that night. Even now, he would not speak of it to her. He could somehow speak honestly to the entire student body, but not to her, the one who would end this ongoing war.

But what could it be? she wondered, stabbing her meal. What drove you, Voldemort?

Perhaps he would have the answer, yet she had zero desire to face him soon. Only once she was powerful enough to destroy him would she rip the truth from his mind—and lay him to rest.

The train to London moved quickly, as if seeking to separate the students aboard from everything that had occurred that year. Edelweiss paid little heed to those who came and went from her compartment. Her close friends, along with Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom, shared it with her in the most perfunctory manner, occupying the other seats and talking around her. Several times Hermione tried to get her involved with their conversations, yet when Edelweiss actually listened in, she did not care about their conversations and thus once more her mind drifted away.

Her mind, oft than not, lingered upon the holocron in her trunk, waiting upon her desire to begin her lessons as a Sith apprentice. It beckoned to her, called upon her to start her journey, and interfered with her thoughts.

About an hour or so from King's Cross, the door opened and the Weasley Twins barged in. She glanced at them, frowning as they exchanged words with the others. It was when they turned to her, mischief in their gazes, that she focused her attention.

"And what has you troubled—"

"—O Queen of Gryffindor, Exalted Champion?"

"I would rather remain at Hogwarts than return to London. That's all." Edelweiss frowned as she glanced between them. Something whispered to her—likely the Force—and, she suddenly suspected which was Fred and which was George. She'd hold onto that knowledge for now. "You two appear quite pleased with yourselves. Did Bagman cough up the gold?"

They glanced at each other pensively. "He ran."

"Debts with goblins he can't pay."

"Doubt we'll ever get our gold back."

She stared at them for a moment, then made her decision. "I have gold I don't need," she said, rising to her feet. Edelweiss climbed onto the bench, ignoring Hermione's outraged squawk, and dug into her trunk. Her hand eventually found the bag of a thousand galleons given to her begrudgingly by Minister Fudge. Her attempt to give half to Cedric's father had been ignored, to her frustration. If he would not take it, then others would.

She tossed the bag at them before dropping back to her seat. "Consider this an investment, boys. Now get out."

They shared a final glance between themselves, before bowing their heads and departing without another word. Ron and Ginny stared at her, gaping, while Hermione frowned.

"That was rather rude of you," Neville pointed out.

Edelweiss huffed, leaning back. "Just tired, Neville. That's all."

She closed her eyes before they could question her. Her breathing slowed, even and measured. Her anger, which threatened to flare whenever it liked, did not fall away as it should under normal meditative conditions. Instead, Edelweiss grasped the core of that potent emotion, forcing it to linger under the skin, stretching it out in an attempt to milk every trace of power it possessed. She could feel its power, sense how her anger supported, even upheld the power of the Force she had been grooming ever since discovering Lord Salazar's greatest secret.

When they reached London, Edelweiss was swift to make her departure. Hedwig, her trusted snowy owl, was somewhere in the wilds, commanded to remain distant until she had need of her. The cage had been left behind in her dormitory atop Gryffindor Tower, unnecessary for this summer. The holocron in her trunk pressed upon her mind. She wished she could touch it, to seek its secrets, but she had to wait until her return to Privet Drive. She snuck past Mrs. Weasley, ignoring the pain in her heart as her friends openly wondered where she had gone. She passed through the barrier and stepped into the muggle side of King's Cross, slipping through the crowds as she maneuvered towards the entrance where Uncle Vernon was bound to be waiting for her.

He said nothing as she approached with only her trunk, merely turned away to lumber back to his oversized car. She followed in his wake, ignoring the curious glances that lingered upon her back longer than was polite. It wasn't worth her time or the energy to do a thing about it, though her jaw firmly clenched at the unnecessary, lingering attention.

In the coming year, perhaps I should bring these stares to heel, Edelweiss thought by chance. She smirked, imagining how it might be to influence the way Hogwarts viewed her. I have tired of the past. One day a hero, the next the villain. If they must view me so, then let them bow before me—or flee in terror.

Uncle Vernon cursed and swore the entire way back to Little Whinging. After she realized he was going on and on about the muggle prime minister, she tuned him out. Edelweiss cared naught for muggle politics, and had failed to develop a proper interest in the politics of magical Britain. It was probably a mistake, given how spooked and squeamish Minister Fudge had been after she told him with dead, dead eyes Voldemort had returned. Yet her upbringing in the Dursley household had bred avoidance of politics, along with a disappointing approach to academics.

Guess I'll need to get over it, she thought grimly. They won't allow me to exist any other way.

Soon enough, they had returned to Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon watched her carefully as she removed her trunk and brought it inside. "Put it up in your room," he muttered, surprising her, "then come back down. You're cooking dinner, then cleaning the kitchen and dining room."

That he hadn't immediately seized her trunk was a luxury, but Edelweiss imagined he was still spooked by the Weasley's coming through the fireplace. Whatever Arthur Weasley had said appeared to do the trick. For once she could work on her summer homework before escaping this wretched muggle household. She did as ordered, swallowing her pride and anger so that she would be safe while amongst milquetoast enemies.

One day she would be able to wield her anger, her powers, against the Dursleys. She merely needed to grow in secret, and embrace the lessons within Lady Bastila's holocron.