Darth Gladiolus
Ziost Hangar resonated thickly with power. The power that washed over the newly christened Sith Lord originated from the Known Regions, far beyond the uncharted space Lord Salazar crossed to reach Earth. Darth Gladiolus felt the churning of dark side energies, responding to her ascension. She paused to revel in their presence and power, to draw in those dark side energies and feel her strength soar to heights she had not known before. She opened and closed a hand as she considered the energies she sensed. They were familiar, and yet she did not think she had ever felt them with such intensity.
This is the sign I have truly ascended, she thought with a great smile. She cherished this power that was now hers. The power surrounding her, passing through her. Making her more.
Gladiolus strode into Lord Salazar's solar, head high. She granted him a small nod and met his gaze with Sith eyes, burning bold and bright.
"You have done well," said Lord Salazar. "You have abandoned the weak creature you were. You have become a Sith Lord." He smiled then true and genuine. "Welcome to our storied order, Lord Gladiolus,"
"Thank you, Lord Salazar. I thought it appropriate to present myself to you. The holocron of my master, Lady Bastila, unfortunately resides too close to those who would disagree with the powers and mentality of a Sith Lord, or else she would be here with us. I shall deal with them in time. But for now, I must attend to the trap I have set for my foe. The one he walks into as we speak."
"The one who shares my blood and uses it to gather others to his cause?"
Gladiolus nodded.
"Then go with my blessing. Destroy him. Destroy his followers. Destroy all of your enemies. Become the Dark Lord of the Sith you were destined to become. Show these fools the power of the dark side of the Force, Lord Gladiolus."
"And so I shall," Darth Gladiolus declared.
"Before you go embrace your destiny, I have a gift for you aboard my old shuttle. The rags you wear are not appropriate for who you have become."
Darth Gladiolus nodded and then departed the solar. Lord Salazar would return to the confines of his holocron. She knew not when she would next communicate with the ancient Sith Lord. Perhaps months in the future, after she yoked magical Britain to her will. The professors would certainly be wary of allowing her access to the castle after all that would be done by her hand. And they would know what she had done, for the ruined wand of Edelweiss Potter remained in the headmaster's office beside Umbridge's decapitated corpse.
Gladiolus descended to where Lord Salazar's shuttle sat. She found a wide box just past the boarding ramp with boots, a belt, and gauntlets set beside them. They were forged from metal she recognized, thanks to the first night she astrally projected to the Department of Mysteries. She set them aside before kneeling beside the case and opening it. Within, she found a familiar set of dress all in black: comfortable dueling pants, a long wrap of fabric weaved with Sith runes, a sleeveless tunic with a metallic feel, and a large cloak with a deep hood.
"Thank you, Lord Salazar," she whispered, smiling brightly. "I shall wear this proudly when I go into battle, armored in the dark side and all I have learned from you."
She changed swiftly, knowing she could not luxuriate in the smooth feeling of her new garb. The gauntlets fit perfectly around her hands. And though Gladiolus felt something unnatural from the gauntlets, she knew they would not affect her connection to the Force.
Force lightning danced across her armored fingers, traveling with nearly the same ease as they danced across flesh and blood. Gladiolus frowned as she considered the chance these gauntlets might interfere with her powers. But any worry of that could not overcome her gratitude over Lord Salazar's gift.
Her new armor was required for the coming battle. She needed to set herself apart from the battledress of the Death Eaters.
Gladiolus snatched her lightsaber from where she set it aside and clipped it to her belt. She smoothed out her tunic, adjusted her robe, and disembarked Lord Salazar's shuttle. She raised the hood of her cloak as she paced laps around the landing chamber. The Force had called upon her to strike down Umbridge once her trap was sprung. But was it time yet to cut across the expanse of space and go to London? To destroy Voldemort and his ilk?
And she hoped to destroy Dumbledore this night as well. She would claim their lives in a singular duel, if possible. Darth Gladiolus would stand over their cooling corpses as she made Minister Fudge grovel and beg on his knees. He was too cowardly to not bow to her power, even if Gladiolus thought him willing to abandon his duties if given the chance. He only wanted the power and wealth of his role. Not the responsibility.
She paused near the shuttle's nose. She stared at its black matte surface. it reminded her of the black tiles that lined the path to the Department of Mysteries. Admittedly, they covered the Ministry's atrium, as well.
A feeling caught her, flowing through the dark side. Her eyes widened and she grinned.
Her time had come.
Darth Gladiolus closed her eyes. She breathed in; she breathed out; and she wrapped the dark side tightly around her form. With it binding her, she focused her mind upon the Ministry of the Magic, aiming toward the Department of Mysteries. She channeled the power that flowed through her whenever she traveled—simple astral projection was not enough for what she must do—and passed through space.
Gladiolus opened her eyes and gazed upon the Ministry's atrium. She spotted the golden Fountain of Magical Brethren at the far end and the elevators further beyond that. Not a soul haunted the atrium. No fireplaces glowed. The chamber smelled faintly of mothballs. Had she not known better, she could have believed the Ministry moved long ago to a finer locale.
She reached out with the Force. The only presences within the Ministry counted twenty or so, all waiting for her in the Hall of Prophecy. Not even house elves moved about the Ministry. And she sensed nothing of the Unspeakables, whom she had spotted once during her hauntings of the Department of Mysteries.
"Good," she whispered, smiling viciously. Gladiolus started for the elevator banks. She could have traveled to the Department of Mysteries directly. Frankly, she should have done so. But the Death Eaters went to great lengths to prepare their "trap" for her. She was many things, but Darth Gladiolus was not so rude as to inappropriately spring an enemy's trap. The illusion of Edelweiss Potter would last a while longer.
They could wait a little longer. They lived on borrowed time now. She had already decided they would all perish. Their choice to follow Voldemort sealed their fate this night.
Her footsteps echoed through the atrium, metal clicking against tile. Darth Gladiolus hummed the same tune she hummed days ago. After several steps, she stopped. It was too early to hum so victoriously.
She would wait until her enemies were dead before she would crow about how easily they fell to her Force powers and lightsaber blade.
Darth Gladiolus passed the Ministry's wretched statue and reached the elevators. The one directly before her opened automatically. She had almost expected to use the Force, after the state she found the atrium in. She raised an eyebrow before entering. If the Ministry building wished to be inviting after months of slander and insult from the people who occupied it, who was she to reject the hospitality? Soon this place would be hers. Best that the Ministry understood its fate before the rest.
"Department of Mysteries," she declared, standing in the elevator's center. With a snarl, she added, "I have an appointment with some miscreants."
The elevator door closed. Instead of moving smoothly, the car shifted and jerked as it traveled from the atrium to the Department of Mysteries. She grimaced and resisted the temptation to once more reach out with the Force and probe the Department of Mysteries. Her understanding of who could and could not detect her use of the Force remained muddled and uncertain, even after filling Hogwarts with her power. It would be the height of arrogance and foolishness to allow the Death Eaters to sense her power before the slaughter began.
The doors opened. A soft, feminine voice announced: "Level Nine. Department of Mysteries with access to Floor Ten: Wizengamot Chamber and courtrooms."
Darth Gladiolus raised an eyebrow at the mention of access to "Floor Ten". But she swept out of the elevator once the doors opened and started for the Department of Mysteries without considering that Floor Ten. She could not allow herself to be troubled by distractions. She had a duty and purpose to fulfill this night.
She followed the corridor to the Department of Mysteries. She opened the door she came to and entered the central, spinning chamber. Darth Gladiolus knew she was strong enough to hold the room in place and prevent it from spinning. But she did not need to accomplish that feat. She knew where the Hall of Prophecy was. She felt it. The Death Eaters within rippled anxiety and annoyance. They seemed to know of her arrival. But what else troubled them? Had she overlooked something?
Had Edelweiss Potter made an error when plotting how they would draw Voldemort into the light?
No. She had not. They expected something else. Maybe someone else. No doubt the image of her in their mind was of Dumbledore's loyal girl, accompanied by a gaggle of teenage allies. No adults would be with her, for the adults on Dumbledore's side of the war would never entrust anything to their children. Not as the Death Eaters might. No doubt there had been those within Slytherin, spying on Hogwarts. But would they have realized that Edelweiss Potter sacrificed all she had been given by her supposed allies to become the next Dark Lord? To be the one they would next serve had their lives not already been forfeit in her eyes?
Darth Gladiolus grinned maliciously. She was certain these fools had no clue what awaited them. Her sardonic smile stretched as she watched the chamber stop spinning. She almost went straight through the door into the Hall of Prophecy before realizing the Death Eaters expected her to get lost and wander the chambers of the Department of Mysteries until she stumbled upon where they awaited her. She grimaced, thinking of the act she was about to put on, but it was necessary to maintain the fiction she was still Edelweiss Potter.
She sighed and then smiled. Her next kill would be glorious, rewarding her for following through with the chore of keeping the Death Eaters unaware of her power. Gladiolus went to a door at random near the one to the Hall of Prophecy. She pushed the door open and peered inside. The time room. The strange, golden chamber that held a vast quantity of time turners and other strange clocks. She entered with a shrug and perused the tall, glass-lined cases.
Halfway across the time room—she quickly spotted two doors at the far end and knew she'd need to choose between them—Gladiolus stumbled upon a massive hourglass. Golden beads fell through the narrow center, mocking the grains of sand ready to flow through the time turners around her.
"How droll," she muttered with a sneer. And yet she reached out with the Force. She nearly recoiled from what she sensed. It was unnatural. An abomination meant to distort time. And oh, how lovely it could be. The witch within her, suppressed by the Sith Lord she had become, nearly reveled in the sight before her.
And the Sith Lord Darth Gladiolus felt torn by the large hourglass. It could be a powerful weapon to maintain her power, but if any dared turn it against her…
"I shall destroy you one day," she promised. "Should my enemies dare try to wield you against me."
The words burned in her mouth, as though they were an empty promise. Or one that would go forever unfulfilled.
Gladiolus continued on. She picked a door at random and went left, away from where the Hall of Prophecy's door had been in the central chamber. The Force could tell her where she was going, but she ignored those feelings. The Department of Mysteries was a bizarre place, possessing many secrets.
She passed through the door she picked. Naturally, that door led her to where she meant to go in the first place.
A chill lingered in the air. Fog hung high along the cathedral ceiling above. Gladiolus glanced around, noting how many of the orbs were pale. Most had glowed an ethereal blue during prior visits. But now? Now, they were different. She suspected what the cause was. Her ascension must have rippled through the Force so powerfully and potently that its currents and eddies affected the very fabric of reality which allowed for prophecy to even exist.
Darth Gladiolus started forward, walking between two rows of shelves. She felt the Death Eaters hiding in the shadows. They knew she was here, but they did not know that she knew of them. They watched her approach their trap around where the prophecy foretelling her conflict with Voldemort awaited. She followed the trail, already knowing what awaited her at the end. She had seen the orb that represented the prophecy that bound her to Voldemort.
And it no longer mattered.
No prophecy spoken on Earth could account for the Force and the dark side, or so Gladiolus told herself as she slowly followed the path set before her. She had a feeling of where they each hid, waiting on her. None were aware of her true power. That she knew of their presence. How disappointing that Voldemort could not draw any sensitive to the Force to his cause. She had stumbled upon Luna Lovegood, whose oddity likely meant she would not bend to the Sith ways. Her father's paper had served its purpose months ago.
Perhaps I should eliminate her, she thought. Gladiolus smiled as another thought came to her. No. I shall not kill her. But I shall test her. If she proves unworthy to become my Sith apprentice, then I shall destroy her.
Gladiolus reached the aisle where the prophecy waited. Most of the Death Eaters were nearby, cloaked or under disillusionment. She could expose them now, but that would not be fun. That would steal her joy, seeing their assumptions thrown into their face. She wanted them to know the depths of their failure before they perished by her hand.
She slowly strode forward, her sulfuric eyes scanning the plaques. They bore names and letters that meant nothing to her. Most plaques sat beneath pale white orbs, stripped of their future by her actions. How fascinating that she could so easily rent fate and destiny.
Truly, the dark side was the greatest power in the galaxy.
And so came Darth Gladiolus to a swirling blue orb set above the plaque that declared Trelawney spoke a prophecy to Albus Dumbledore concerning her and Voldemort. It had changed since her last visit when she engaged in the mental workings to bring about this meeting. Now it said:
Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith & The Dark Lord Voldemort
"How fascinating that this would know," whispered Gladiolus. She stared at the orb as a sudden curiosity grabbed her. What did this prophecy say? Could she divine what it said through the Force? Should she even dare? Doing so would grant the Death Eaters an opening to curse her in the back and take her to their lord, a failure and a disgrace to her new order.
Time to spring the trap, then.
Darth Gladiolus reached out and took the orb. As she brought it back to illuminate her marked face, shadows slinked around her. She peered around with a mirthful smile. Only she was unmasked, though she could see their sneering lips and mocking eyes.
One of them lowered his mask, revealing a familiar face. "Lucius Malfoy," she drawled. "I had wondered when you would come sulking out of the shadows. I should have assumed you would be sent on this little mission, after your humiliation in June." Gladiolus lowered her hand grasping the prophecy as she scanned the others. "This is all Voldemort could send for little 'ol me? I'm disappointed. Certainly, you could have found twenty."
"Don't say his name!" hissed a witch with wild violet eyes. "You have no—!"
Gladiolus raised her free hand and tightened her grasp. The witch choked on her words. Her violet eyes bulged with hatred. "I have every right to say that charlatan's assumed name. Unless the actual name you do not wish for me to say is 'Tom Riddle'. No doubt Dumbledore will call him that when he arrives. The old man cannot resist an opportunity to… proselytize."
"You can always make the right choice, Potter," said Lucius Malfoy. He held out a gloved hand. "You only need to hand over the prophecy. Our lord will let you hear it before he decides your fate."
"Him? Decide my fate?" She burst out laughing. It echoed along the ceiling, dark and cruel. "Oh, you poor, poor fools!" simpered Gladiolus. "The world you were born into has already died! You only do not know it, for I have not ripped out every cancerous growth your ilk have buried into the soil of Britain!"
"You're a fool if you think you can fight all of us, Potter!" a man snarled. For some reason, she knew he had been among those who escaped Azkaban in January. "When the Dark Lord arrives—"
"I shall kill him. Finally and permanently," Gladiolus snarled. "His fate has been writ in stone ever since I was in my mother's womb." She raised the prophecy high, waited for their gazes to find it, and shook the orb. Half of the Death Eaters lurched forward while the other half watched with bated breath. She smirked. "What punishment did he threaten you with should you fail to retrieve the prophecy?"
"We will not tell you that—"
"Enough!" shouted Lucius Malfoy. He thrust his hand toward her once more. "Release Bellatrix, Potter, and hand over the prophecy. There are more of us than there are of you. Not even Dumbledore could fight all of us and be victorious."
She growled, low in her throat. She released her grasp on Bellatrix Lestrange. Perhaps she would save the woman as a test for Neville Longbottom. He certainly had the hatred to kill the Lestranges. "You would need a hundred of your ilk to fight me now."
"Potter—"
"That is no longer my name! Edelweiss Potter was a foolish girl with delusions about what she could and could not do." She tossed back her cloak's hood, fully revealing her black marks and sulfuric eyes. Her hair was bound in a thick braid that draped over a shoulder. A few Death Eaters blanched, seeing her true face. "I am Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith… and Salazar Slytherin's true heir."
Unsurprisingly, the importance of her claim to the Sith title escaped the Death Eaters. After all, there was no reason they should know that name nor understand what it meant to be a Sith. But to claim that she, and not their master, should be the Dark Lord? That she had the greater right to be Slytherin's heir? That sparked hatred in their hearts. She saw dark flashes in their eyes and witnessed lips draw back in sneers and snarls.
Gladiolus rolled her shoulders and her cloak fell to the floor, pooling at her feet. She felt their gazes upon her exposed upper arms. If they had been shocked by the marks upon their face, these ones drove a feeling of horror and disgust through them. "I have tired of this petty conversation. Should any of you survive to tell your master what I have told you… Well, I doubt what he does to you will be kinder than my treatment."
Before they could act, Gladiolus slammed a hand forward and pushed with the Force. They, along with the plethora of orbs sitting on both shelves, went flying. She watched them crash against shelves, to the floor, and even one unfortunate foe that flew all the way to the far wall. She smirked. She knew it would be easier to burn them all to ashes with Force lightning, but she wanted to savor their deaths. They could not all come at—
"Damn you, Potter! Avada Kedavra!" a Death Eater screamed.
As the emerald spell raced her way, Gladiolus summoned her lightsaber to a hand and activated it. With that familiar snap-hiss, she went to parry the Killing Curse. The Force said nothing of her death, yet it also suggested nothing of how her weapon would interact with the spell.
Her blade sliced through deathly emerald. The Killing Curse shattered into naught with a whimper. Gladiolus blinked; she had failed to test her lightsaber against spells, for she had never found one she could fully trust enough to practice with. Not even Lovegood, who knew the name Gladiolus, had been brought close enough into her confidence to aid her. And manipulating minds was a dangerous game at Hogwarts. Too dangerous to risk exposing her secrets.
"Well, well," she murmured, grinning sardonically. Gladiolus turned her gaze upon the shocked, abandoned Death Eater who had tried to hit her with the Killing Curse. "You truly are a fool."
Before he could respond, she released the orb in her left hand, blasted Force lightning his way, and caught the prophecy before it could fall more than three inches. The torrent of lightning washed over the Death Eater before he could raise a magical shield. She witnessed his skeleton flicker through his skin before thin waves of steam began to rise from his corpse. It collapsed, thumping against the floor.
The chamber fell silent. She felt movement but saw nothing.
"And now the hunt begins," whispered Darth Gladiolus, surveying the Hall of Prophecy. Her blade thrummed in her loose gasp, hovering low along the ground. Reaching out with the Force revealed none remained to try and fight her. Already they were elsewhere within the Department of Mysteries.
So my enemies have taken flight. How disappointing, even if it is not surprising.
It was rational. Gladiolus might be alone, but they could not kill her. Still, she found herself disappointed. Could they not torture her? Incapacitate her in order to bring her to their lord? They had taken flight. She would need to hunt them down and kill them one by one.
Darth Gladiolus would not deny herself the chance to slaughter her enemies like vermin.
She retraced her steps and came to the door that led her back to the time room. Or at least, that was what she expected. Instead, she entered a library that dwarfed Hogwarts' grand collection by a staggering margin. The ceiling glimmered high above her, just within sight. Shelves rose all the way to that ceiling. They were filled; stretching out with books so narrow she almost missed them and tomes thicker than her skull and thrice the weight.
"How fascina—"
She sensed a spell. Gladiolus ducked as a glob of putrid yellow soared over her head. She raised her lightsaber before her as a shield, slashing through the second spell before sidestepping the third. An arm slipped behind a shelf that stuck outward into the corridor now before her.
"Come out, filth!" she demanded, pushing her Force powers outward. She would know soon if this lowly Death Eater was strong of will. "Come out and perish like the dog you are!"
"As if I would listen to you, Potter!" the Death Eater shouted back. A man, she surmised, based solely upon the sound of him. Odds were he was large akin to Crabbe and Goyle's fathers. "I'll capture you on the Dark Lord's behalf! He will reward my family for—"
"Enough talk," snapped Gladiolus. She started toward the voice, keeping her lightsaber between her and the Death Eater. "Step out and face me or flee. I care not which, for you shall die by my hand regardless."
"You're a fool, Potter! The Dark Lord will kill you."
"He will certainly try. But by the time that happens, you will be dead and I will be more powerful." A frenzied smile came upon her like madness. "By the end of this night, he too shall be dead, and I shall be the Dark Lord."
The moment the Death Eater stuck his arm out, she tossed her lightsaber. Her weapon spun and twisted, transitioning from horizontal to vertical as it reached him. The crimson blade carved up along his arm, setting flesh and fabric alike on fire. He swore and cursed, collapsing behind the shelves as he tried to put the flame out absent a wand. Gladiolus reached out with the Force. Her weapon stopped in midair and then returned to her. It slammed into her grasp, the blade still ignited.
She strode up to the Death Eater as he rolled over and put out the flames scarring and ruining his left arm. Gladiolus found him on his knees. He stilled as he peered up at her. The skull masks customary of the Death Eaters covered his face. More so, the eye and mouth sockets were now black. Mocking holes that already knew death waited.
So this is how so many of his pawns escaped justice until after the fighting ended. What could they have done, had their master not destroyed himself in his attempt to murder me?
Gladiolus decapitated the Death Eater without ceremony. His head fell off, plopping to the ground before her feet, and rolled away. The mask popped away from his head, yet remained intact. She smirked and stepped down on the skull-shaped mask. It snapped in half cleanly.
"One down. Too many to go."
She stalked through the library, which decided to be larger and more labyrinthine than she recalled. At one point, she came upon a man bent over a desk, snoring. An Unspeakable, she decided after staring at him. Gladiolus left him alone, though she knew the Unspeakables would be furious over the incursion into their space. That was not her concern yet.
The next door she passed through brought her to a massive chamber, dark with faint speckles of light here and there. Gladiolus looked around and nearly gaped when she came face to face with a massive mock-up of Neptune. She prowled leftward around the false planet, scanning the massive, cerulean orb. She swore there were patterns across it that reminded her of the thick grey clouds over Scotland.
"Stupefy!" screamed a Death Eater. Gladiolus leaped aside, spinning about to face the direction the red spell came from. It splashed harmlessly against where she had been standing while another Death Eater popped out from their hiding place—Is that Pluto?—and shot a lurid violet spell her way. As with that Killing Curse in the Hall of Prophecy, she sliced through the spell and destroyed it.
"Is that it?" she asked, bemused. "Is this all Voldemort's Death Eaters can do? Throw around spells so easily dismantled and avoided?"
The one who tried to curse her first stepped fully into view, bubbling with mindless hatred. The moment he aimed his wand at her, she reached out with her left hand—which still held the prophecy—and flicked the hand toward the Pluto mock-up his fellow hid behind. The Death Eater flew and crashed into the planet. He then fell to the floor with a fatal splat. She felt his life ebb away while his fellow cast a faltering healing spell.
"You should have caught him," she said, taunting the other Death Eater. "Had you done that, maybe your fellow would still be alive."
Best of all, her words were the truth. The man perished because of the trauma inflicted upon his bones and organs by both collisions. The second one, when he crashed to the floor, had been the worst of the two. No doubt blood filled most of the cavities in the corpse. Had his skin been punctured by either collision, a large pool would have formed under his body.
"Merlin's beard…" whispered the living Death Eater.
Gladiolus drifted forward. She used the Force so each step she took covered several feet. Before the Death Eater could understand what he witnessed her do, she lunged. Her lightsaber pierced his soft stomach. He gasped, or at least tried to. His body seized up. As she straightened and withdrew her cauterizing blade, he collapsed sideways.
Two more dead. Two more of Voldemort's pawns were destroyed by her hand.
She used the Force to leap high onto Neptune. The solar system was laid out before her in the same pattern they existed within. Uranus filled her vision, with ringed Saturn and massive Jupiter further beyond. She sprung forward, bouncing across them as the Force propelled her forward. This was a simple, instinctive use of the Force's power. Nothing compared to the great, terrible powers she possessed as a Sith Lord.
Darth Gladiolus discovered no sign of other Death Eaters within the massive chamber dedicated to the solar system. She stamped down her disappointment. But what had she expected? Eighteen Death Eaters had come to the Department of Mysteries. None had left the department yet—she could sense that much to her chagrin—and none lingered in the same chamber she occupied.
And so Gladiolus pushed on.
She discovered a door near Mars that led her back to the time room she had passed through while heading for the Hall of Prophecy. Gladiolus trailed down the room's center, lightsaber raised so it cast crimson light across her marked face. She felt a lick of heat emanate from the blade. Yet it affected her naught.
As she crossed the chamber, her sulfuric eyes scanned for any sign of movement. Any hint of where they might be. She sensed them with the Force, yet they remained hidden. Her sense of where they might be happened to be annoyingly vague.
"Cowards!" she hissed. "Reveal yourselves!" She struggled with the impulse to tear them from their hiding places. Perhaps it would be stupid—foolish even—to risk destroying the bounty of time turners, but Gladiolus wanted these Death Eaters dead. Dead, dead, dead!
A Death Eater chose that very moment to welcome her with a deadly spell. It was a sickly violet and traveled in an odd wave. Gladiolus stepped around it instead of slicing through the spell. The Death Eater stared at her dumbly—and she lunged forward, empowered with the Force.
Danger, screamed the Force.
Danger, screamed her instincts.
So Gladiolus landed short of her target and swung her lightsaber about in a defensive shielding pattern. Four spells came her way, and four spells disappeared when touched by her blade. A sardonic grin crossed her face as she straightened. Six Death Eaters stood around her now; the one who lured her in, the four who failed in their ambush, and Lucius Malfoy.
"I'm almost impressed," confessed Gladiolus, raising her left hand. She still held the prophecy tightly. Should this escape her, then the Death Eaters would take flight. Darth Gladiolus had been a fool to think they had any plan but to retrieve it from her on their own terms. This orb was why the Death Eaters lingered behind. Not because of any fear of their master—or perhaps because of that fear, for she did not know how he would punish their failure—but because they remained confident they could take it from her. She gathered the Force to her, thicker and denser than ever before. "But almost."
Gladiolus released the energy with a stunning burst. Waves of power and lightning burst forth from her, smashing into the shelves and sending time turners crashing to the floor. Their sands warped the chamber. The Death Eaters cursed and dodged for cover. All but one. Gladiolus swung toward that Death Eater, carving through three spells with her lightsaber before suddenly being upon him. The Death Eater made a sound—a scream or begging or a plea for mercy, she did not know which—and was suddenly silenced as her lightsaber plunged into his chest.
She yanked her blade free and turned to face the other Death Eaters. They had all fled the same way, heading for the door Gladiolus had earlier passed through, coming from the department entry. She followed them with a dark scowl, her blade held in a low guard as she prepared to fight for the doorway. She did not sense any with the Force still with her, but she had discovered the Death Eaters could still deceive her.
The door creaked on its hinges as Gladiolus approached. She sensed no spell or trap upon the door. Still, she raised her left hand and used the Force to punch the door inward. It resisted shattering, though the violence impacted the doorframe severely enough that she could make out shimmering. Growling at the lack of response from the other side, she stormed through the doorway, throwing her left shoulder into the wood while raising her lightsaber so it crossed the threshold first.
She had acted wisely. Several spells streaked her way. Gladiolus used the Force to empower her natural instinct and skill as she swatted aside the spells. One, a vibrant silver color, nearly skimmed her forearm when she overcommitted to a ricochet block. It was only her preternatural powers that saved her from a terrible fate. Once their barrage ended—the Death Eaters clearly assumed that would be enough to take her down—she sprung toward the nearest source of spellfire. She found two Death Eaters. Shock poured off them. Mouths opened and wands raised, but they were too slow. She swung burning slices through their limbs, turning shouted spells into wordless screams.
Limbs fell to the ground with soft thumps. The Death Eaters backed into stony crags as she stalked forward. Gladiolus smirked at them. She wondered as she drew near if they would react like cornered prey or if they would disappoint her and embrace death.
Gladiolus snarled as she swung her blade. One man lost his head. The other stared numbly. She swung again, and so ended the second Death Eater.
The Force alerted her to a nearby presence. Gladiolus paused. Her sulfuric eyes scanned her surroundings. She spotted a shimmer near a passage that led deeper into the chamber. The shimmering form drew back, seemingly aware she had seen them.
Gladiolus smiled maliciously and started forward. She minded the Force and how it allowed her to sense danger. Something lingered at the edges of her awareness. A presence reached out to demand she step forth so she might cross wands and die.
My wand is broken, she thought bitterly. Angrily. And Darth Gladiolus shall not die.
She stalked faster, following the shimmering figure as it retreated. Perhaps it sought to draw her into a trap. That was Voldemort's way. At least it was concerning Edelweiss Potter. She was Dumbledore's ardent follower, and thus she could be controlled by that oh-so-predictable morality. Three times Voldemort had drawn her into a trap. But she was a Sith Lord now. The Dark Lord of the Sith. On this night, she would prove her title true and strike down this false pretender.
This night—this encounter—was her trap. He and his followers would perish by her hand.
The shimmering figure turned to face her as Gladiolus got within a few feet. She felt their shock and fear, along with an edge of certainty their disillusionment would hide them from her. But the Force could not be deceived the same way her senses might be tricked. She swung her lightsaber just as the Death Eater tried to curse her.
Only a limb was carved off, and not even prettily. The mangled chunk of an arm flopped to the ground, cut unevenly through the forearm. A few fingers from the other hand followed, along with a bit of smoking wood. Gladiolus crushed their wand as she continued forward. She lunged forward and drove her blade into the center of the shimmering form.
The disillusionment fell without magic to maintain it. A shocked Death Eater, maskless and young, appeared there before her. In another life, Gladiolus would have recognized his face. But here and now, she knew him not. She stepped over his corpse and pressed on, heading for the "trap" established for her benefit.
Gladiolus traveled only a short distance before reaching a passage that led deep into the chamber. She sensed several presences, and not all were Death Eaters. She blinked, a touch surprised. Had Dumbledore's Order come to fight as well? She had few qualms about fighting them. Yet there remained some among their number she wanted to avoid fighting. The Weasleys, for one. Their children were, as far as anyone else knew, her ardent followers and supporters. To alienate them by killing their parents would weaken her social position. Gladiolus would not suffer that fate. Sirius sprung to mind following them. She enjoyed her time with her godfather. And yet the weak part of her that still remembered being Edelweiss Potter wished he could have confronted her about the Sith markings she now bore proudly. While she did not doubt he would remain loyal, she was left questioning if he could be trusted.
After all, Sirius Black proclaimed to love her, just as he loved her parents. But he had betrayed them in the end. It had not been his intention. But the choice that led to their fates hung around his shoulders, just as blame could be placed upon Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew.
Those latter she would kill, despite him not being within the Ministry this night. She would hunt the rat through rancid muggle sewers where thousands of his kind suffered and toiled in their miserable, rat lives if necessary.
Gladiolus started down the channel, keeping her weapon in a low guard as she took cautious step after cautious step. Part of her felt cowardly, yet she was so immersed in the dark side of the Force that she knew she had cause to approach the enemy so. The five Death Eaters who escaped her in the time room lingered nearby, along with the remnants of their cabal. She counted ten presences. Eighteen Death Eaters had come to the Ministry of Magic this night, and already eight were dead by her hand.
The rest would die once she had them in her grasp. Whether by Force or by lightsaber, they would perish. Just like their master. Just like both of her hated foes.
Remember the Dursleys, Gladiolus. Remember how easily they died once you realized they could die.
She came to the end of the channel, which gave way to an open area she had found once before. Nothing stood out except for a tall doorway of black, twisting stone. An abomination she wished to destroy. Shimmering, silvery grey hung in the archway. Gladiolus still got a queer feeling from it. She swore that she somehow stared into a pure aspect of the Force—and it screamed the truth she did not wish to hear: Abomination. Monster. Fiend. Betrayer. Kinslayer. Sith Lord.
Woe to thee, galaxy, for another of that—
She poured hatred and power into her left hand. Force lightning flowed through the prophecy, sending forth a jagged, bright blue bolt. Her power smashed against the archway, silencing the voices yet failing to destroy the archway. Only after her blast echoed through the chamber did she hear the scream that came from her, furious and offended by false words. Gladiolus panted, glaring at the archway with burning sulfuric hatred.
Before she met her final fate, she would rend that archway into naught but dust and ashes.
Gladiolus breathed out heavily through her nose. Focus. She straightened and turned slightly, scanning the rocky benches around her.
An execution chamber. That was where she had been brought. If they thought her end would come here, then they were fools. Dead fools. Corpses still walking.
"Come forth, Death Eaters," boomed Gladiolus. She poured her wrath and malice into her words, lacing her dark side powers with a demanding compulsion. "Come forth, so justice may be done upon you! Come forth and face the end of your tale!"
A slow clap echoed through the chamber. Gladiolus turned to find Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange standing on a nearby perch. Both were unmasked. They stared down at her. He smiled almost fondly, as though she had been a girl he had fostered until the right moment for a betrayal most terrible. Bellatrix considered Gladiolus with only contempt.
"Quite impressive, Potter. Or perhaps I shall call you Gladiolus, as you have demanded."
"Darth Gladiolus, Lord Malfoy. We should not forget proper titles, after all. We're civilized folk, me and you."
He chuckled "Darth Gladiolus, then," he said with smug amusement. Lucius waved his wand at his feet before leaping down from his perch. Gladiolus sensed the magic he cast, lowering him so he did not need to worry about pain or damage from his landing. She was almost impressed. However, she no longer required a spell to achieve that feat. The Force would protect her. It was the source of her power. The key to her victory.
"Still want this?" she asked, tossing the prophecy into the air daringly. She snatched it before Lucius could raise his wand and summon the orb. "How about this? You can have it once your master arrives. You and your lot will have from then until I kill him to flee. Should you make it to foreign shores, I will let you live as long as you never return."
Lucius blinked. "And if I do not accept your gracious offer, Lady Gladiolus?"
"Lord. Not Lady. But I would not expect you to know," Gladiolus said, almost bitingly. He raised a thin eyebrow. "If you are unwilling to accept my mercy, then I shall continue killing your comrades. Burnt, crushed remnants shall be left in my wake. Perhaps I will cut them into artful chunks for your pathetic lord to find." Gladiolus brought attention to the prophecy in her hand. "This is what he wants. As long as I have it, he will come to me—no matter where I may lead him."
"You think yourself able to trap the Dark Lord?" snarled Bellatrix, who had joined them on the floor below the perches.
"Think?" asked Gladiolus with a sardonic grin. "Think? Fool woman! I know I can lead him into a trap. This affair was my plan from the start. I embedded it into the mind of one of his little followers sneaking about the Hall of Prophecy. I confess I began growing impatient, but only because this night marks my ascension. It is as I told you already. Edelweiss Potter is dead. I am Darth Gladiolus, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Salazar Slytherin's true heir. The blood spilled only increases my power."
"So be it," said Lucius, his face paler than the bone masks the other Death Eaters wore. "We will take the prophecy from you, even if it means defying the Dark Lord. He has claimed your life for himself, but if I must—"
"You will try," said Gladiolus as she raised her saber. The red blade cast a soft crimson glow around her. "I will enjoy every moment of this, Lucius."
Before either could act, members of the Order emerged from their hiding places. There was a momentary lull of surprise. And then curses flew. Death Eaters shot into action. Bellatrix cackled as Sirius and Tonks dropped down to fight her, two-on-one. They worked well, though Gladiolus could sense that their combined strength was barely a match for the mad dark witch.
A spell zipped right past her ear. Gladiolus drew her gaze back to Lucius, who held his wand pointed toward her. "Your attention should be on me, Gladiolus. If not, I will pluck you like the flower you're named for."
"It is a name chosen for me by my master," she declared, lazily spinning the lightsaber in her right hand. She glanced about the chamber. "And this place is an excellent locale for me to showcase my true powers."
Gladiolus sprung forward in a high, spinning arc. She wielded her blade like the propeller of an old-fashioned muggle airplane. Spells splashed off her blade. Not all came from Lucius and none came from the Order members. Before the night was out, she might need to fight them. For now, she would use their presence to divide and conquer the Death Eaters.
She landed a few feet behind Lucius. Her blade flicked up and spun about behind her back, blocking two curses flung her way. She spun about while her crimson blade became a flowing flurry that sliced through Lucius Malfoy's spells. He weakened while trying to fight the last war's battle.
He was a fool to fight so when faced with a warrior unlike any he faced before. Darth Gladiolus was the last of the ancient order of the Sith, and the first of a new order. One she would fashion once the appropriate apprentice came forward and submitted to her teachings.
Lucius growled and grimaced as she pressed forward, moving slowly but surely toward him. Gladiolus took a step here and there to orient his slow retreat toward the cavernous walls about them. Lucius was unaware of where she directed him until he slammed into stone. His blue eyes were wide and horrified as he glanced between her and the rocky wall behind him.
Gladiolus recalled the blast of dark side magicks she wielded in the Chamber of Secrets. She gathered that power to her, letting it flow through the prophecy and leach all of its magical potential. Once ready, she flicked her wrist, and that terrible green light sprung forth. In the span of three heartbeats, it crossed the distance between them.
The dark side magick splashed over Lucius Malfoy. But he did not immediately die. His body twitched and flailed as foam poured from his lips. Gladiolus watched with brazen fascination. She had only used this power to show the potential of mixing the dark side and her witch magic to Lady Bastila.
"How fascinating," she murmured. "Yet not what I expected."
She had expected that burst of green Force energy to behave like the Killing Curse and grant a swift, clean death. Instead, she had inflicted a terrible fate on Lucius. He was dead now, though odd flickers of energy continued to ripple through his body. Her head tilted as she watched his limbs flail about in one last seizure before falling silent.
She reacted to a sense of danger. Her blade flashed and a spell from the other side of the chamber broke upon it. Another spell zipped past her head. She tilted forward and avoided a third. Gladiolus's gaze left Lucius's corpse. She scanned the far perch, above the floor she still stood upon. A Death Eater stood on a ledge casting spells her way.
"So be it," she muttered, dodging more. Gladiolus drew upon the Force as she leaped into the air. She landed on the same level as the Death Eater seconds after she leaped. The figure shifted back a step but did not flee.
Brave, but foolish.
Gladiolus spun about her lightsaber, creating a shield of crimson fury as the Death Eater began shooting spells at a fast and voracious pace. She dodged as many as she parried, using the speed and reflex of Ataru to weave through the impressive wave of spell fire directed her way.
The moment when the Death Eater paused to breathe deeply, she shot forward. The Force propelled her. She swung up through his guard. He tried to backpedal, but it was useless. Her blow was not meant for his chest. Her blade instead sliced through the wrist connecting the hand holding his wand to the rest of his body.
The Death Eater gasped at the parting. He took a few more steps back, raising his cauterized arm. Gladiolus allowed him one final second to suffer pain and horror before spearing him through. She felt his death ripple faintly through the Force.
She drew away and sought out another Death Eater to cut down.
Where are you, Voldemort? Darth Gladiolus pondered. Her foe disappointed her. She had expected him to appear once she began butchering his followers.
Perhaps I need to kill more. Perhaps I must kill them all.
Gladiolus scanned the chamber. Most of the remaining Death Eaters were caught up in duels with Dumbledore's Order. She recognized none. She had made no effort to learn the names and faces of his followers and sycophants. They would fall into line once she yoked magical Britain to her will. And if they did not, she would re-enact what she had done to the Death Eaters this night. The Order of the Phoenix would become the same: a list of the dead, wasted in pointless wars.
She found a duel where the Death Eater appeared to be getting the better of a woman whose Force presence was vaguely familiar. Gladiolus willed herself to flicker over to them. In one breath she stood upon the far side of the chamber—
—and in the next, Gladiolus plunged her blade through the Death Eater's back. There was a weak gasp and she felt her victim's—another woman, surprise surprise—life snuff out. The Order fighter stared at her dumbly, mouth widely agape and eyes bulging out.
"Stay out of my way," said Gladiolus as she tore her blade from the corpse. Her lightsaber thrummed threateningly by her side, drawing the fighter's gaze. "And let your fellows know: once Voldemort arrives, do not interfere. I plan to kill him this night. If they try anything, I will kill them too."
"Potter—"
Gladiolus laughed mockingly. "That fool girl is dead, woman. I am Darth Gladiolus. You will either call me 'Lord Gladiolus' or 'my Lord. Call me by that dead girl's name again and I will kill you."
"You… You've gone mad!"
Gladiolus snorted and rolled her sulfuric eyes. She imagined that to Dumbledore's servants, she had gone mad. After all, she did not balk at doing what needed to be done. They had the chance to purge society of the filth that plunged them into a decade of civil strife, war, and genocide, and they failed to punish the responsible party. She would not allow the fallow ground that gave way to Voldemort to grow fertile again.
This would be the end of his madness. An end to the pureblood madness of his followers. She would see it done.
Gladiolus spent the next few minutes flickering about the chamber, slaying one Death Eater after the next. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Tonks and Sirius continued to duel Bellatrix. There was an unspoken agreement among the Order members that none of them would step in until their fellows were struck down. She thought them fools to let their allies fight alone. But if they wished to be weak while the members of the fallen Black family duked it out, then she would step in and claim the glory for herself.
It was as she finished off the final Death Eater except Bellatrix that Gladiolus prepared to intervene. She realized from the moment she began shocking Order members that she would sacrifice their opinion of her before the night ended. They must have raced to the Department of Mysteries, fearing the worst when their teenage savior mysteriously vanished from Hogwarts and sprung the Dark Lord's trap.
Instead, they arrived to discover her busy cleaning up the mess they left behind following the first war. Gladiolus left corpses where they would have tried to be merciful. What fools they were, leaving enemies stunned so they could be restored by their fellows.
Gladiolus stepped to the edge of the cliff surrounding the lower area with that strange archway. Her gut turned and twisted, glancing at the wretched thing. The want to destroy remained strong, yet it was now accompanied by the feeling its destruction would unleash something horrible—that the arch existed to prevent something else from being unleashed.
I will have time in the future to investigate that mystery, Gladiolus thought. Her gaze returned to the duel.
She waited until the three dueling Blacks neared where she stood before she dropped down into their midst. The Force slowed her descent, so she landed silently behind Bellatrix. She lunged forward—
—and the witch proved more aware than Gladiolus expected. Bellatrix sprung aside, tripping over her feet in the endeavor while Sirius charged forward, his wand in motion.
Gladiolus did not draw back. She knew, intellectually, that she should try and avoid her godfather. But why should she? She had already sacrificed so much at the altar of Sith Lord. What was one more man added to her tally? A man who had loved her father as a brother, whose failure set her upon her course?
One final sacrifice. To truly be a Sith Lord.
Surprise flashed in Sirius's silver eyes, followed almost immediately by weary acceptance. As her blade cauterized into his heart, Sirius released a final, whispered word:
"Sorry."