AN: I don't own SW or HP

Chapter 1

First Day With The New Professor

Earlier in the Morning.

Slowly opening his eyes, Vader rose from his bed after a night's worth of meditation.

While it may not have been as soothing as the bacta tank, the quiet atmosphere was enough to keep the former Sith Apprentice of Palpatine calm and help him pass the time through the night.

In the grand scheme of things, it was certainly an upgrade from dozing off in the frigid confines of the Death Star's quarters. On this occasion, that was a clear advantage for Vader, a decisive edge that set him apart from everyone else.

Narrowing his eyes, Vader noticed a particular bell on the wooden desk, assuming it was for errands. The former Jedi Knight of the Clone Wars walked right over to where the bell was, reaching out with his right hand as the small handle of the bell was in between both his mechanical index finger and thumb.

Giving the most petite rings, Vader's senses heightened as he felt he was not alone in the room. A loud crack erupted in his ears.

"Hello, you called, sir?" A small, timid voice called out from behind the masked man, causing the house elf to begin choking, terrified for her life suddenly.

Vader extended his right hand in a Force Choking gesture, only for The Fallen Jedi to realize that this intruder posed no threat. Vader released the tiny creature, slowly regretting his initial reaction.

'Calm your actions; do not make the same mistake as last time.' Vader silently scolds himself, frustration boiling beneath the surface as he grapples with his own mistakes.

Hearing the tiny chokes coming from the small elf, Vader turned his attention, looking down at the small, pointy-eared in dirty rags who had widened blue eyes. "You startled me," Vader felt a heavy weight on his conscience, remorse washing over him for the dark choices he had just made. "Apologies for my abrupt reaction. Do not do that again unless you value your own life."

"Ye-Yes, sir… Polly will not… do that again." The tiny house elf proceeded to apologize for not being careful in her surroundings.

Even though she was entirely blameless, she stood her ground with an apology.

"Are you the elf that the professor assigned for this room?" Vader seized the moment, deftly shifting the conversation in a new direction.

With a playful tilt of her head, the Small House Elf gave a whimsical nod, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No sir, we always take turns tidying rooms in Hogwarts. Polly is one of the few elves that are assigned to take care of these parts of the quarters in Hogwarts."

Vader understood, realizing he had remembered something valuable about House Elves in this world after hearing their explanation from the Headmaster of the academy. House elves were traditionally assigned to each master in a pure-blood wizard family, which piqued the former Sith Apprentice's curiosity about their history.

Serving a "magical bond" between the said wizard owner and elf.

If not, it is fierce for them to be treated this way, with no freedom or will whatsoever.

It resembled the slavery on his home planet, Tatooine, and for a moment, for some inexplicable reason, it made his blood boil.

Vader shook himself, realizing this was not the time to get personal.

"I see. Then, may I ask a simple request from you?" Vader asked.

The house elf nodded obediently. "Of course. How can Polly help you, sir?"

"I need you to gather a few supplies for me," Vader stated, crossing both arms and demanding a list from the tiny elf.

"What kind of supplies, sir?" With a spark of curiosity in her eyes, Polly leaned closer as the former Sith Lord started to unfold his list of errands for the house elf, each task more intriguing than the last.

"A pen and paper for writing a letter, along with textbooks from the library." The former Sith Lord ordered as the house elf nodded very obediently.

"Okay, is there anything else Polly can bring for you, sir?"

"No, you are free to go. For now, I require nothing." Vader spoke calmly yet unwaveringly, his voice steady as he conveyed his thoughts.

Polly nodded in return. "Yes, sir."

"Another thing," Vader called out.

"Yes, what is it, sir?" Polly inquired with a charming smile and a gentle and respectful tone.

You said that you did not have an owner before?" The former Sith Apprentice of Sidious assumed. "That you are a part of the school's help?"

"Yes, sir."

Figures. Elves didn't have much of an option when it came to their labor.

"From now on, you are to consider yourself a part of my servitude," Vader confirmed right away, pointing his right finger directly at the elf. "Also, you are the only one to attend this room, and when I call you, you will come right away underneath my orders and no one else." He continued to state, his words clear on the matter. "Is that understood?"

"Ye-Yes, sir. Polly understands, sir. Will that be all for tonight, sir?"

"No, nothing at the moment," Vader said, turning his back as he continued to walk towards his small desk. "You may go."

Vader despised having to travel that route. Slavery was something he always loathed. He harbored much resentment towards slavers, and his anger spiked at the thought of past enslavement during the Clone Wars. The Zygerrian race, in particular, reminded the former Jedi Knight of his dark past.

Clenching his right fist, Vader slowly composed himself, knowing that dwelling on the past would do nothing for him.

It was time to teach his first class.

The following day, there was a bit of anticipation and anxiety coming from the Fifth Year students.

Naturally, the start of the new year at Hogwarts had everyone feeling tense. Many students were busy eating breakfast at the Gryffindor table, gearing up for the day's classes.

Harry was somewhat indifferent about it. However, he found himself in a better mood after getting some rest last night.

Of course, the nightmares didn't stop there.

The young Gryffindor felt his sanity wavering after the recent events at Hogwarts. The sight of dark, winged horses pulling the carriages upon his arrival this year didn't help. However, he recalled the blonde-haired girl, Luna Lovegood, assuring him that he wasn't losing his mind. She suggested he had been sane all along.

He had kept it from Dumbledore and even his close friends, Ron and Hermione, but that didn't mean he would remain silent for the entire year. He was reluctant to acknowledge it, but he sensed a growing distance between himself and his closest friends, as they no longer saw eye to eye on many matters from his recent years at Hogwarts. Inside the school's walls, he felt a sense of loneliness bordering on isolation.

He remembered Hermione's frustration with him for not communicating and for keeping his problems close. He realized he had been unfair to her and considered opening up about his troubles. Yet, ultimately, Harry remained silent, convinced it would not alter the events of the previous year.

The most significant concern of the year was the new Dark Arts teacher, which made Harry understandably anxious. His unease was compounded by the fact that two of his teachers had attempted to kill him: one was an incompetent fraud, and the other bore a tragic history with his father and godfather, stemming from being "different" from them.

To be honest with himself, he couldn't wait for the year to end. Who knows what kind of background the new Professor had?

"Are you all right, Harry?" Seeing the tired look in his best friend's eyes, Ron gently asked, "What's got you so worn out today?"

"I'm fine, just trying to get through breakfast." With a weary sigh that spoke of a long day, Harry relished another bite of his sumptuous pumpkin pie. The warm blend of spices wrapped around him like a cozy embrace, momentarily banishing his fatigue as he surrendered to the sweet comfort of the dessert.

At that moment, it was his only comfort, a warm embrace amidst his life.

Hermione pivoted to confront her friend, a shadow of concern etched across her features. "You need to eat something, Harry." She reprimanded concernedly. "It's gonna be a big day today due to our new classes starting today, so you'll need to have a proper breakfast." Hermione insisted, her gaze sharp and unwavering as she guided the raven-haired wizard toward the abundant spread.

Indeed, he didn't need reminding. Dealing with the absurd rumors of Voldemort's return after The Triwizard Tournament was already quite enough. Coupled with his close call with expulsion from Hogwarts for rescuing his cousin Dudley at Privet Drive, he was undoubtedly going through a tumultuous time.

"Oi, Harry! Look here, after History of Magic and Divination, and we got our first day in the new Defense against the Dark Arts class!" Ron found his voice and spoke out with conviction. "Wonder how Fred and George are handling the new professor."

Harry was also curious about that subject as well. There was more to the new Professor than meets the eye.

Hell, he was the only Professor who was absent from the dining hall. His green eyes noticed Dumbledore having a small conversation with Flitwick, Professor McGonagall slowly nodding her head at Professor Sprout's words, seemingly agreeing on a topic, and Snape being his usual self at the table, sipping a goblet, filled with wine if Harry had to guess.

However, the new Professor seemed quiet and inclined to keep things to himself so that no one else would know.

"Oh yeah, Harry, look, we also got Quidditch practice in the later afternoon." Ron confidently asserted his point, leaving no room for doubt.

That's right, Harry was looking forward to that part of Hogwarts. A smile appeared on his face. Quidditch was one of the few things that Harry enjoyed; riding that broom every time made the young wizard forget his troubles as he felt like he had reunited a piece of himself.

Another player from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina Johnson, informed them that she would be the new captain this year, and tryouts would be held for newcomers who were interested in the sport.

For a while, Harry proceeded to smile, seemingly being happy.

Unfortunately, that calming sense of serenity would only last for a little bit.

The class has finally begun.

After enduring another predictable divination class with Professor Trelawney, the Golden Trio headed to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

With the Slytherins of all people. Harry was dreading this since it was announced on his arrival in Hogwarts.

The young Gryffindor was worried about how the new Professor would take an interest in him. Harry had never been lucky with Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Two of them had tried to kill him; one was a lousy teacher, and one was a werewolf.

Who knows what surprises the new Professor will bring this year? Harry wondered if the Professor had any connection with Voldemort, which might explain the mysterious appearance he presented during his introduction. Harry had never encountered a teacher who concealed their identity before. What was the Professor hiding? Whatever it was, Harry hoped it wouldn't lead to a negative outcome.

"So Fred and George told me about their class with the new Professor in the morning. He knows his stuff, after all," Ron remarked.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she dismissed the comment with a delicate scoff."Well, of course, he knows. He's a teacher, after all. It's his job to have all sorts of knowledge on the subject." Hermione responded, forcing the redhead Weasley to roll his eyes, only to take notice of a confident toad-like woman appearing in the room, wearing that exaggerated pink sweater.

Seriously, who wears that much pink?

"Good afternoon, children!" Umbridge called out, causing all the students to look in her direction, still displaying that smile on her face. The students said nothing, unsure and confused at the sudden intrusion by the strange woman in pink.

Umbridge wiggled her finger, tsk-ing her lips as a sign of disapproval. "Students, I would like you to say Good Afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

Some students were dubious, but others proceeded to move on with the instructions in the class.

Hermione raised her hand. "Um, pardon me, Miss Umbridge, but I thought that Professor Vader was supposed to be teaching this class."

"Oh yes." Umbridge said, struggling to keep that "sweet smile" on her face. "It appears he's running a little late, but I'm sure he won't mind if I taught the class for him."

Harry blinked in surprise. He couldn't believe it. He was sure it was supposed to be the masked man teaching the class, not this toad of a woman. At this point, he wasn't sure if that was better or not.

Umbridge raised her wand high above her head, a glint of malice dancing in her eyes."Everyone! Wands away and take your quills out, please!"

The dark-haired wizard was sure that there was a deeper explanation for Professor Vader's absence.

Right as Harry was in his thoughts, he heard a jeering voice close to where he was sitting. He was not in the mood to deal with this absurdity.

"So Potter, have you told everyone your crazy ramblings about the "Dark Lord" coming back?" Malfoy mocked the young Gryffindor, earning a glare in response, while Crabbe and Goyle laughed at the spoiled Slytherin's joke. Of course, it would be anyone but Malfoy. "If so, maybe they can reserve a place for you in St. Mungo." He erupted into laughter, his mocking tone echoing through the air, dripping with derision.

"Shut up, Malfoy." With a quick flicker of irritation, Harry shot back a sharp retort.

Malfoy raised both arms high above his head, a smirk dancing on his lips as he reveled in the attention. "Ooh, watch it, Potter. I can give you detention if you don't treat me with respect." The air in the classroom crackled with tension as the Pure-Blood student leveled a menacing threat, casting a dark shadow over the atmosphere. Ron, sensing the brewing conflict, shifted uneasily in his seat, his instincts kicking in as he prepared to step in and diffuse the situation.

Just as the tension thickened and Umbridge, along with the other students, seemed poised to intervene, an unexpected interruption burst into view, drawing everyone's attention away from the unfolding conversation.

"Khooh Phuur."

"That is enough." A mysterious voice suddenly cut through the conversation, capturing everyone's attention.

Harry and Malfoy both turned to face Professor Vader, looking down on them.

"Ah, Professor Vader!" Umbridge greeted politely, her strained smile revealing hidden frustration at being interrupted again. "Yes, I was just about to teach-!"

"Leave… now," Vader's voice thundered through the chamber, silencing the portly toad-like woman mid-sentence. The moment he spoke, his voice dripped with a chilling intensity that enveloped the room. Instantly, the students around him fell silent, their expressions frozen in a mix of surprise and apprehension."I am here to teach the class alone, where your presence is not allowed."

Umbridge began to shiver slightly, her hands growing clammy as fear and anger mixed in her eyes as she searched for the right words to say. Her smile returned, though this time, she decided to sweet-talk the masked man.

"Hem-hem, but Professor Vader, it is my job from the Ministry to ensure that all these dear children are taught properly and have a good—" Once more, her words were cut short by the chilling voice of the man in black, casting an ominous shadow over the conversation. The breathing coming from the man's mask was not helping either.

"Khooh Phuur."

"Enough, you babbling toad," Vader interrupted the woman in pink, who gasped in offense, her face flushing as the students snickered but quickly fell silent under the masked man's commanding tone, filled with enough rage and authority to silence even a troll. "Do not force me to repeat myself... or face the consequences," He warned the toad-like woman with a tone of icy, disdainful dismissal. The class, witnessing the scene, sat on the edge of their seats, struggling between laughter and fear at the masked man's stern demeanor towards the High Inquisitor.

After hearing those words, Umbridge was at a loss for words. Her eyes filled with outrage and fear as she continued to stare at the cold, black eyes behind the man's black mask. Her right hand hovered near her wand, tempted to cast a mind-reading spell but hesitating as she noticed the strange weapon holstered at his side.

After all, even she knew when not to poke the bear.

"Alright… I'll leave," Umbridge stumbled over her words, panic evident in her voice, as she hurriedly made her exit, muttering a few frantic remarks under her breath. "But I will report this to the ministry," Umbridge spun around, her eyes narrowing as she directed her gaze toward the classroom entrance. She swept out of the room with a measured stride, leaving a palpable tension in her wake.

Once the ill-favored toad left the classroom, the masked man turned his attention to face Harry and the rest of the class. Now that nuisance had been taken care of, it was time to teach the class. Harry was prepared to see what lies in this Professor.

"Khooh Phuur."

"Now, everyone, take out your journals and let me explain the rules that must be observed at all times in my class." Vader pressed on, his voice steady and commanding, as he waved his right hand with a flourish. Instantly, a detailed chart materialized before them, illuminating the space with vivid information. Letters were beginning to be written on the board as the masked man in black went on. "As you all remember from the previous night, my name is Professor Vader." He introduced himself but with more authority and command in his voice. "You will refer to me at all times, outside of the classroom as well. There will be rules to be observed for the first time. You will raise your hand and wait until you are called upon. I have no patience for incompetence and failure to follow simple instructions." He continued to direct, pointing out each of the rules. "I will make one thing clear. Do not expect childish instructions from me. When you are in this class, you are responsible for your attendance, grades, and behavior. I am not here to babysit you, and you will remember it well."

No one spoke; the steady sound of the masked man's breathing echoed from his helmet, creating an undeniable tension in the air.

"Now, are there any questions?" Vader inquired.

With no surprise at all, Harry narrowed his eyes at his bushy-haired friend, who had her hand in the air before anyone else could get the chance.

However, a certain blonde, Slytherin, had the same opinion. "Of course, the mud blood always gets her way first." The Pure-Blood lashed out with a venomous remark, inflaming Harry's temper and riling up the fiery Weasley redhead beside him. A vast smirk appeared across the blonde-haired Slytherin's face.

However, those words did not sit well with Vader. "Ten points from Slytherin."

A look of astonishment swept across Malfoy's face as his eyes grew wide in disbelief. "What?!" His smile vanished entirely, replaced by a firm and resolute frown. "That's not fair! You can't do that!" With a fierce glare and a voice laced with frustration, he demanded what he wanted.

"I can and I will. I didn't permit you to speak. Do you want to be the first one to test my patience, boy?" Vader intimidated the blonde-haired figure, making him go silent as a cold sensation enveloped his body as if a dementor had been released into the room.

Malfoy said nothing afterward.

Harry couldn't help but grin at the results. For once, things were starting to go his way. He certainly didn't expect Malfoy to be the one to have trouble with the new Professor. Merlin, Harry now understood from Malfoy's perspective when Professor Snape criticized the young Gryffindor in their potions class. Here, though, it was the complete opposite.

Not that he was complaining.

Vader continued with his lecture. "As I was saying, you there." Vader turned his attention to the bushy-haired girl who had her hand up early before being rudely interrupted by the pompous Slytherin. "What is your name?" The masked man inquired.

"He-Hermione Granger, sir," Hermione's voice trembled as she spoke, her words faltering under the weight of the masked man's intense presence.

"Miss Granger, what was your question?"

With a delicate cough into her hand, Hermione gathered her thoughts before diving back into her question, determination shining in her eyes. "Yes, Professor. Pardon me if I sound skeptical, but are you an expert in the Dark Arts?" Hermione asked.

"Khooh Phuur."

"If I weren't, Miss Granger, your headmaster wouldn't have suggested that I would be the one to teach this class," Vader pointed out, causing the bushy-haired witch to slowly put her hand down, feeling a bit dejected by her inquiry. "But yes, I am quite capable of teaching the Dark Arts this year," Vader answered her question.

She raised her hand again. The masked Professor called out her name again as she asked her next question: "What kind of magic do you know, sir?" She proceeded to ask again.

"It is not the Magic you're used to, Miss Granger. It is more complex than that." Vader shared his thoughts, sparking a flicker of curiosity in the bushy-haired girl's eyes.

Is it more complex than that? Harry had to admit it, and he was curious about what kind of Magic he used.

Another hand raised in the air. The masked Professor narrowed his eyes at the brown-haired boy with his hand in the air.

The Professor called out the next student. "Yes, what is your name, boy?"

"Seamus Finnigan, sir." Seamus introduced himself.

"Mr. Finnigan, what is your question?"

The boy gulped, hesitant to ask his question but with enough courage to ask anyway. "Are you or were you affiliated with You-Know-Who?" Seamus asked.

Everyone in the classroom was silent, worried about the Professor's answer. Their gazes on the masked man became tens as if they were afraid to speak up, and they avoided further eye contact with the man.

The masked Professor finally responded. "No. If I were affiliated with that fool, then none of you would be alive at this moment."

The class immediately froze still, several of them appearing fearful and perturbed by the man in black's words.

"Thankfully, I am here to aid with your battle against the Dark Lord. I am not afraid of him and his so-called Army of Death Eaters." Vader's mocking words sent a wave of relief rippling through the entire class as if a heavy weight had been lifted from their shoulders. His following words, however, are what shook the class to their core. "Lord Voldemort is nothing compared to the power of the Dark Side." He clenched his right fist, causing a silent stir as the students were shocked that the Professor had dared to mention the name of the Dark Lord. "Those who referred to him without saying his name should not be permitted to become wizards. Do not speak of his name if you don't dare to say so."

"Ye-Yes, sir," Seamus fidgeted in his chair, his gaze fixed on the worn wood of his desk as a flush of embarrassment crept over him.

Hermione raised her hand, gaining the Professor's attention again. "Yes, Miss Granger," Vader called out.

"That term you just used, the Dark Side. What did you mean by that, Professor?" With a spark of curiosity in her eyes, Hermione couldn't help but ask about the mysterious powers wielded by the masked man before her. Harry was curious about that subject. He decided to get a closer listen to his explanation.

"It is a part of my power. Those who use a darker side of their emotions," Vader's voice cut through the air, sending a chill down the spines of several students as the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. Some students looked pale in the process.

"Now, I require a volunteer for a demonstration," Vader announced. "Who would be willing to stand?" he inquired, extending his right hand as an example. The masked Professor proceeded to walk along each row of desks. With each step he took, the students in Vader's proximity became noticeably nervous and hesitant to volunteer.

The tension in the room reached a climax as the masked Professor scanned the crowd, his eyes glinting with a mysterious intensity. With a dramatic pause, he finally pointed to a participant, sealing the fate of the moment and igniting a wave of anticipation among the onlookers.

"You boy, come here," Vader's voice sliced through the air, drawing the attention of the anxious boy fidgeting at one of the front desks in the classroom.

The boy with the nervous expression stood up from his seat, reluctantly walking to where the masked man stood. Harry couldn't help but feel anxious for Neville, knowing he wasn't the most sociable person in Hogwarts.

"What is your name, boy?" Vader questioned, causing the boy to respond hesitantly.

"Ne-Neville… Lo-Long-" Neville hesitated, his words caught in his throat, when suddenly a commanding voice erupted from the masked Professor, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Speak up, boy," Vader called out.

Neville squeaked up. "Ne-Neville Longbottom, sir!"

"Mr. Longbottom, what spells are you knowledgeable on? Ones used in combat specifically." Vader inquired, curious about the extent of the Longbottom boy's.

Neville blinked for a few seconds. "Sp-Spells? Well, I know a few…" He stammered at the end of his sentence.

"What is one for example?" Vader asked.

"Well, there is one called th-the st-stunning spell…" Neville's voice faltered yet again, his words tumbling out in a hesitant stammer that hinted at his growing anxiety. "I only read about its effects and how much damage it can do to another wizard."

Unexpected words had come out from the masked Professor.

"Cast it on me."

Neville stared wide-eyed, his mind racing, as the rest of the class fell into a hushed stillness.

"Wh-What, Professor?" Neville questioned, wondering if he heard that correctly.

"You heard what I said. Cast a spell on me." With a commanding presence, Vader raised his voice to issue orders that would set the course of events in motion.

"Bu-But I don't want to hurt you," Neville admitted his concerns, feeling apprehensive about the requirements set forth by the masked Professor.

"You won't. I will not allow it," Vader promised as he glanced back toward the distant board, a determined look in his eyes as he made a bold promise. Now, he stood in front of the students, with Neville following behind him to begin the demonstration.

Neville reluctantly agreed, slowly taking out his wand; it took a couple of seconds to point it at the masked man, his hand shaking due to the pressures of the lesson. He could hear a few snickering, presumably from the Slytherins.

"Stu—" Neville took a shaky breath, his stutter hanging in the air as he struggled to find his words. The lighthearted chuckles from the crowd only intensified his nerves, echoing in the back of his mind like a persistent reminder of his anxiety.

However, the booming voice of Vader managed to silence them, capturing Neville's attention as his head shook frantically.

"Now, boy, I will not tell you again. Cast the spell on me," With a commanding glare, Vader issued his orders, and Neville sprang into action. Clutching his wand tightly, he aimed it steadily at the shadowy figure before him, heart pounding with determination.

"Stupefy!" Neville confidently unleashed the spell, and a fierce red light shot from his wand, slicing through the darkness.

At that moment, Vader raised his right hand, and the spell collided with his palm, shrinking until the red light vanished utterly.

A wave of astonishment washed over the students, their eyes wide with wonder and disbelief.

"Excellent, Mr. Longbottom. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Applause occurred from most of the students, minus the Slytherins, as Neville beamed up due to the positive reception on passing the lesson.

Harry had to confess to himself. He was worried for Neville but relieved that the lesson turned out quite well for him. His green eyes narrowed at the sight of his bushy-haired friend raising her hand to ask another question.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"How did you do that, Professor Vader?" Hermione asked, still in awe of the Professor's demonstration. "I don't remember a spell that condenses or counters spells before," she continued, expressing interest in the masked man's abilities. "Especially since you didn't have a wand of sorts to counter Neville's spell."

She did have a point. Could it be a Shield Charm?

"Excellent observation, Miss Granger. That's because the demonstration I've shown to you and the rest of the class is not Magic I used." Vader confirmed, gathering the attention of the curious students.

Not Magic? What else could it be, then?

"It is called The Force," Vader revealed, confusing the students. It is the energy field of spiritual energy, my power and my strength," Vader explained—the same strength that is above the Dark Lord's power."

As he spoke, his right hand reached forward as a small flame on a lit candle began to be manipulated by the masked man's right hand, bending from his will.

He skillfully controlled the tiny flame, creating a mesmerizing dance with the fire as all of the students watched in wonder.

Everyone started clapping as the fire vanished utterly. Harry was amazed by the Professor's demonstration.

"Now that I have shown you, everyone, take these sheets and pass them down in your row."

Harry took the sheet on his desk, briefly examining the cover of the printed work.

Defense Against The Dark Arts

Learning How To Control Your Magic Without a Wand.

Counter Deadly Spells and Recognize Your Opponent's Pattern.

Control Your Emotions on Harnessing Your Magic.

Learn To Read One's Mind to Study The Weakness of Your Attacker.

"There is a lot to cover, and there will be a lot of effort put into your assignments," Vader emphasized the various topics that would be addressed as Harry exchanged worried glances with his best friends. They all appeared concerned, particularly Ron, who knew this was going to be a lot for him to handle. Hermione, on the other hand, was ecstatic about the results.

"Bloody Hell, this is a lot to take in," Ron commented, whispering to the raven-haired wizard, who agreed.

Harry glanced at the sheet again, noting the requirements to pass the class. Learning Magic without a wand sounded intriguing on paper, but he knew it wouldn't be easy.

He had never intentionally attempted wandless Magic before. He vividly recalled all the times he had cast accidental Magic when he wasn't in control of his powers.

Harry recalls the summer before his third year when the raven-haired wizard accidentally inflated his Aunt Marge like a balloon. A small smile graced the Gryffindor's face as that memory materialized in his mind.

As the raven-haired wizard was in his thoughts, his ears perked up at the voice of the masked Professor.

"As I stated to you earlier, your grades and attendance are your responsibility. I will NOT tolerate any excuses for your tardiness or unprofessional dedication, and those who choose to disrupt my class will be excused and fail for the rest of the year. I'd expect you to be at your best." With a commanding presence, he faced the entire class, and his finger raised as a pointed reminder that success in their tasks was non-negotiable. "Remember," he said, his voice steady and unwavering, "Failure is not an option."

Harry grasped the weight of his decision, fully aware of the challenges that lay ahead. This time, he was going to work extra hard to succeed this year. He was not playing around.

"Do I make myself clear?" Vader quizzed.

The entire class nodded in return.

For the rest of the minute, they spent the remainder of the class discussing the basics and differences between Magic and The Force, such as The Force being a spiritual energy controlled by one's mind and having different philosophies, using it in various ways. In contrast, Magic is more up to as a practiced skill, requiring more training and harnessing effectively in one way.

Once class ended, each of the students stumbled in a mixed reception of bewilderment and shook up, not having this feeling since Remus, Moody, or instead Barty Crouch Jr. disguised as the paranoid Auror who taught the Dark Arts class last time that Harry still recollecting from the previous years.

So yeah, this experience was better for him on this occasion.

Ron can relate to him deeply, sharing a strikingly similar experience that draws them closer together. "Blimey, that wasn't too bad of a lesson. The best part about it is he didn't even give us homework on the first day," Ron said, his eyes wide with astonishment. "He didn't even need a wand to demonstrate, which is what got my attention in the first place." He further exclaimed with vibrant enthusiasm.

"I'll admit it. He certainly knew a lot more than I originally thought he did." Hermione confessed. "Though, he was a bit intimidating, if not terrifying." The chilling presence of the masked Professor lingered in her mind, his icy demeanor casting a shadow over every interaction.

It honestly spooked her a bit.

"He wasn't that bad, Hermione. If anything, he's less of a hassle than Snape." Ron defended. "The greasy git always gave us grief with every chance he would get."

"Even so, the requirements of passing his class are just as strict, if not more than Professor Snape's potions class," Hermione stated, acknowledging that it was more of a hassle compared to the previous classes she had attended in her past years.

Harry let out a slow breath, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend's words. "Ron is right about that. At least he didn't go chewing off my head the first time I entered his classroom." Harry began to share his thoughts, recalling his first experience in potion class during his first year.

"Still, it is bothersome," Hermione said. "The fact that Dumbledore knows something about him that we don't. Like why doesn't he use Magic? Why does he wear that mask, hiding his identity?"

Ron shrugged her words off. "Maybe he's hiding himself from the Ministry. After all, I've heard shady things from the Ministry since The Triwizard Tournament last year."

"I'm just not sure. But I guess we'll have to wait until what happens." Hermione spoke, hoping that this would be for the best.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, a spark of understanding lighting up his eyes as he descended the stairs. His anticipation was building for the class that awaited him.

"Oh, bollocks!" Harry exclaimed.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked out of concern.

"Forgot my quill. Must have left it back in the classroom." Harry realized. "You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up in a second."

Harry returned to the classroom. Upon entering, he noticed that a masked professor remained present.

"What is it, Potter?" Vader asked.

"Uh, nothing; I forgot my quill," Harry stated as he returned to his desk to retrieve his quill.

Fetching his quill, Harry couldn't help but feel a nagging sensation; his scar had a strange feeling, but it wasn't pain. Instead, it felt like a presence he had never experienced before.

'Your scar… it's troubling you.'

Harry felt his forehead tingle, not out of pain, but in a strange way, as if someone was forewarning the young wizard through his thoughts.

Suddenly, his green eyes met the dark orbs as Harry faced Vader, the mask capturing his gaze as if he were a deer caught in the headlights. A powerful thought struck him, making him feel scrutinized as if his memories were being rifled through like the pages of a novel. Harry tensed up in response, fully aware of the weight of the moment.

Afterward, nothing had happened until Vader spoke out of the blue. "Is there anything I can help you with, boy?"

Harry shook his head, realizing he was in a bit of a daze.

"No, sir. Nothing. Nothing important." Harry said that before grabbing his quill and placing it in the bag.

As Harry did, he made one last note before leaving the room.

Not without hearing one last sentence in his mind.

'Do not let your anger consume you; control it instead, Potter.' The voice issued a warning with a sense of foreboding.

With that, Harry left the room, conscious that there might be more to the new Professor than he was revealing.

Regardless of whether it was a positive or negative outcome, there was one thing that Harry had hoped for.

It would not be another Voldemort incident to contend with once more.

In Vader's room, the former Sith Lord sat on his desk, preparing to write a letter.

Letters stacked on his desk informed the former Jedi of the teaching guides outside of Ministry Guidelines, avoiding the risk of termination.

Hmph. The woman was set on replacing him on the job. If you ask him, it's a pathetic waste of effort.

"Polly." With a sudden, thunderous crack that shattered the stillness, Vader called forth the unsuspecting House elf, drawing it into his dark realm with an air of undeniable authority.

"You called for Polly, sir?" The house-elf appeared out of nowhere, her head tilted to the left, seeking a response from the masked man.

"Keep an eye on that Umbridge woman," Vader gazed out from his quarters, his eyes fixed on the shimmering expanse of the starry moon. With a weighty command in his voice, he ordered his next move, the vastness of space reflecting the intensity of his thoughts. "Do not lose sight of her and inform me of any actions she has, particularly anything she has to do with the Ministry."

Polly gracefully inclined her head, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes in return. "Yes, sir. Is there anything else you would like?"

"No, just don't lose sight of her, and make sure she doesn't find a way to contact the ministry." With an air of authority, Vader pressed on, issuing commands that reverberated through the dimly lit chamber.

No one would remove him from these chambers.

Polly nodded in response. "Yes, sir, Polly will make sure about it."

Once the tiny house elf left, Vader was alone, sitting in his chair and resorting to different strategies for handling the situation.

Before he would get a chance, his eyes underneath the mask looked at the list of students in his class—presumably, the ones who piqued an interest in him with the most potential.

First was that quick-witted girl named Hermione Granger. She was incredibly clever about her surroundings and knew almost too little about every subject when it came to learning Magic. However, she was too trusting of the authorities.

Vader knew from the start, thanks to the mind-reading trick. He knew the student was skeptical of him ever since she laid eyes on him when he threatened the woman in pink for interrupting his class lesson.

An interesting topic about the girl is that while she possessed magical abilities, her parents were typical. Magicless, if you will, which was quite rare in The Wizarding World, as Vader remembers reading about the blood status from a book he'd read a week ago after arriving here. In a way, it possesses attributes similar to those of Force Sensitive beings, who are highly attuned to the flow of The Force.

Ron Weasley was a boy who sided with the highest and most successful lines in the Wizarding Society. It helps that he came from a high-tier wizard family. But unlike a lot of the Pureblood families in The Wizarding World, they didn't come off as arrogant or simple-minded. The fact that they were even accused of being "Blood Traitors" due to liking Muggle-borns.

When he first arrived here after his last moments on The Death Star, he remembers reading a few books on the history of magical families.

He had heard of the derogatory slur of Mudblood courtesy of the aforementioned Malfoy boy. Vader, of course, wasn't new to derogatory slurs before, hearing multiple ones in the Galaxy, both as a Jedi and Sith—especially his time when he was an enslaved person on Tatooine.

That boy, Malfoy, arrogant and full of himself, needed mind discipline. The masked Force User had little to like self-important brats, and while Dumbledore prohibited the former Sith Lord from inflicting harsh discipline, he would get his chance to teach the boy a lesson then and there.

He may have been redeemed in the light's eyes, but that didn't mean his dark side qualities were gone completely. He was a Sith, after all.

Of course, there was one student at the top of his mind.

Who else but Harry Potter?

The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One in this Universe.

Vader won't lie. It was unusual, if not bizarre, due to the strange coincidence of speaking from experience. He knew the pressures and responsibility of being part of an old prophecy.

The Ministry didn't understand the consequences of his role, either. Dumbledore knew more than he could let on as if he wasn't telling the whole truth to Vader. Perhaps he was hoping to use the Potter boy for his purposes, a way to end the war with Lord Voldemort.

It was the Jedi Order all over again, and it was beginning to leave a bad memory in his mind.

As a teacher who only interacted with the boy once, he knew it was a similar route for him. He would not allow it to happen to another unfortunate adolescent.

Perhaps Vader had to worry more than just Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

In this situation, it would be a path he hoped to avoid, or he would be compelled to get his hands dirty once again.

AN: Hello Everyone! Chapter Two of A Fallen Angel of Hogwarts is here!

Special thanks go to Meraj Alimi (King 101) for helping beta-read this chapter. It means a lot to me, as I couldn't have done it without their help!

Vader is definitely changing things in Harry's Fifth Year, saving him a headache from dealing with that miserable toad who will be facing the consequences since, let's be honest: who even likes Umbridge? I've never even read a fic where she's considered "likable." But who knows? This is fanfiction, and anything can happen or change to make the story more interesting!

Even so, I do plan for this story to diverge a bit from canon since Vader is already here to replace Umbridge as the teacher in the DADA class! Just wait for characters like Fudge or Snape to be prepared to meet the Sith Lord himself!

It will be interesting to see Snape's dialogue and interactions with Vader, considering their similar personalities. Overall, I hope you guys look forward to things next time!

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Enjoy these five updates from me! Check out the other fics that were updated today. I will be taking a small break from writing due to personal reasons involving family and education studies. I appreciate your support!

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