The Power of the Dark Side

Okay, I've finally got a good setup for my Star Wars/Harry Potter crossover. It took a lot of drafting and brainstorming to finally come up with it!

Basically, this takes place after Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and before Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. This sort of follows the timeline of the original trilogy with the characters we all know and love—including Luke, Han, Leia, Chewie, Lando, Threepio, Artoo, and of course Darth Vader.

The main characters from the Harry Potter universe are Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny.

Below are some definitions to some terms we all are familiar with, but needed tweaking for this story to work. Also, I have made my own scale on how midichlorians work—if it's not right, I'm sorry in advance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter—that's JK Rowling's creative genius! And I don't own Star Wars—George Lucas is the man behind that wonderful saga!

On with the fic!

Terms and Definitions:

Muggle: a human having no magical powers

Squib: a human who cannot use magic, but can sense it (example-the ability to see a dementor)

Wizard/Witch: a human who possesses magical powers and abilities

Force-Sensitive: meaning one who can use the Force

Force: an energy field created by all living things; has a light side (used by the Jedi) and a dark side (used by the Sith and Dark Jedi)

Jedi: a group of beings who use the Force to help and protect others

Sith: beings who use the Force in anger and hatred to harm others

Midichorian Scale:

Muggles: 500 and under

Squibs: 500-1000

Wizards/Witches: 1000-8000

Sorcerers/Sorceresses: 8000-10000

Force-Sensitives: 10000 and up

Midichorian Count:

Emperor Palpatine: 21000

Master Yoda: 18000

Qui-Gon Jinn: 11500

Obi-Wan Kenobi: 14000

Leia Organa: 25000

Anakin Skywalker: 30000

Luke Skywalker: 30000

Lord Voldemort: 10000

Albus Dumbledore: 9000

James Potter: 7050

Lily Evans-Potter: 7000

Neville Longbottom: 13500

Luna Lovegood: 11550

Ronald Weasley: 6900

Ginerva Weasley: 7250

Hermione Granger: 15000

Harry Potter: 30000

It has been about sixteen years since Chancellor Palpatine overthrew the Galactic Republic and converted it into the Galactic Empire, and declared himself Emperor—making Anakin Skywalker, a former Jedi Knight, into Darth Vader (his second in command, and a Sith lord). They rule the galaxy with an iron fist.

But not all have submitted to this dictatorship. Several thousand beings (and entire planetary governments) have banded together to form a group called the Rebel Alliance. Their mission: to destroy the Empire and to restore the Republic into its former glory.

Earth, a planet far from the center of either the Alliance or the Empire, has been neutral during this conflict. Unbeknownst to most of its inhabitants, there were a race of beings known as witches and wizards living among them. They had their own government, laws, and society hidden from the other people of this world (they were often called Muggles). What the majority of this planet also did not know was that this secret magical world was in the middle of a war—where their only hope is in the hands of a green eyed, raven haired boy fifteen-going on-sixteen years of age. His name is Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived—the Chosen One of the wizarding world.

Unfortunately for this boy, his life is about to get even worse.

I know it's short, but it's necessary to introduce the idea of the story to you guys!

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

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Below is from the novel of Star Wars Episode III and I thought that it fit with what I'm writing.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Wars or Harry Potter—I'm just borrowing them for my own purposes!

On with the fic!

Part One: Seduction to the Dark Side

The dark is generous, and it is patient.

It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt.

The dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause those seeds to sprout.

The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout, for the dark is the soil in which they grow, and it is the clouds above them, and it waits behind the star that gives them light.

The dark's patience is infinite.

Eventually, even stars burn out.

-Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith

by Matthew Stover

(Imperial Palace—Coruscant)

Emperor Palpatine was not a patient man. In fact, one could say that his impatience was…deadly. He had a habit of using unorthodox methods to get what he desired as soon as it was possible. Today, he was most definitely not so tolerant. What could possibly make him this way? Not something—someone.

A few weeks ago, the old man had been meditating, when he felt a powerful tremor in the Force. Someone was tapping into their emotions—strongly. The tremor was filled with so much anger, and sadness—but such raw power! He hadn't felt such use of the Force since Anakin Skywalker destroyed Count Dooku (a.k.a. Lord Tyranus) on General Grievous's ship all those years ago. Palpatine searched through the Force for what the source of such power could be. He was rewarded with a vision of a black-haired, green-eyed boy (who looked around fifteen or sixteen years of age) with a murderous look on his face, raising what looked like a wooden stick and shouting something. A beam of red light shot out of the stick and hit a woman wearing black robes.

The former chancellor had since then put some of his men in Intelligence onto the task of finding out exactly who this boy was. He already knew that the boy was a wizard (he had some of his men who were from Earth and had family members who could do such things), and he had created a picture of the boy to help his men along in identifying him. Unfortunately they had not had much luck in finding out anything else. Thus, Palpatine began to get angry and eventually killed the leader of the project.

Today though, it seemed the Force was on his side, for the new head of the project, Commander Thomas, had immediately recognized the boy's image.

“Oh my,” he murmured. “It's Harry Potter.”

The emperor immediately turned to him. “Do you know something about him?” he asked.

The imperial swallowed. “Umm…yes, your highness. The boy is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.”

“How do you know?” the dark man demanded.

“My son goes to school with him,” Commander Thomas answered. “They're in the same year.”

“So,” said Palpatine, “he's on Earth.” He smiled and turned towards the imperial. “Do you know his address?”

“No, your majesty,” Thomas admitted. “But I believe my son or one of his friends does.”

“Good,” said the galactic ruler. “I'm going to give you two weeks to get me that address.”

“Yes, my emperor!” the commander responded and headed off towards one of the shipyards.

88888888

Commander Thomas had only taken nine days in getting Harry Potter's physical address: Number Four, Privet Drive, Surrey, England.

Emperor Palpatine was immensely pleased and gave the earthman a promotion. Later that day, he went to the communication unit located in his private chambers. He keyed in a few buttons, then an image appeared in front of him.

It was a human. He had an obsidian helmet, matching armor, and an ebony cape. His chest plate had an assortment of red, blue and white knobs and buttons. He was breathing rather loudly—but that was normal. The man's name was Darth Vader, second in command of the Empire and Palpatine's dark apprentice.

“What is your will, my master?” Vader said in a low tone.

The emperor decided to hold off on his true reason for calling for a minute. “How goes your search for the Rebels?”

“They are clever, but they cannot evade us forever,” Vader replied.

“It is of no matter currently,” Palpatine said dismissively. “I have a more important assignment for you.” The old man punched a couple more buttons on his console and the image of Harry Potter materialized. “Find this boy and bring him to me. Alive.”

If Vader was surprised, he didn't show it. “Where is he at?”

“You will find him at Number Four, Privet Drive, Surrey, England—on Earth.”

“It shall be done, Master.” Vader ended the communication call.

Palpatine smiled to himself. He'd been wanting a new project for some time—someone powerful to use and bend to his will (unlike his Hand, Mara Jade, who was weak; or Vader, who could be hard to control sometimes).

It seemed as though Palpatine had found his new servant.

88888888

(Imperial Star Destroyer—Deep Space)

After ending the call, Darth Vader sat down and began to think. That boy looked so familiar…

Seventeen-year-old Anakin Skywalker woke up to find himself in a white-walled room. He looked down to see that he was wearing blue striped clothes and lying in a bed with white sheets.

He looked over to his right and saw that his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, was lying in the bed next to him. As though he could sense that Anakin was watching him, the Jedi Knight suddenly opened his gray eyes.

“Master,” Anakin said, “do you know where we are?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and Anakin could sense the older man reaching out with the Force. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and said, “I don't know where we are. But I sense that we aren't in danger.”

Just then, the door leading to wherever they were opened and a woman wearing what looked like scarlet and white robes entered, followed by a boy around Anakin's age with messy black hair, hazel eyes, and round glasses.

The woman noticed the conscious Jedi. “Oh good!” she exclaimed. “You're both awake!” She then began to take some glass vials out of a nearby wooden cabinet. “If it weren't for Mr. Potter here finding you two in that metal contraption, you could have been seriously injured.”

Suddenly Anakin remembered what had happened. They had been on their way back to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant when they had run into an asteroid field, which pushed them off course. Their ship had taken a real beating and Anakin had to make a crash landing in a clearing in the middle of a forest. Unfortunately, the impact of the crash had knocked both he and Obi-Wan unconscious.

Well, that would explain the beds and the new clothes, Anakin thought wryly.

The woman then placed a goblet in front of Anakin. “Drink this,” she ordered. “It will restore your strength.”

Anakin swallowed the unknown liquid. It tasted like Master Yoda's morning brew of caf. He watched in amusement as his master drank his own goblet and let out a small grimace.

The nurse (or so Anakin guessed) gave them an approving look, then turned to the black-haired boy. “Mr. Potter, go and get Headmaster Dumbledore. I have a feeling that he will want to speak with these gentlemen.”

The boy nodded and left the room. He came back a few minutes later with an elder man wearing midnight blue robes. He had long white hair and a matching long white beard. He was wearing spectacles and had twinkling blue eyes.

“Madam Pomfrey,” he said, looking over at the nurse, “I believe you have done enough for our guests.” He then addressed Anakin and Obi-Wan. “Why don't you two get dressed and follow James here to my office. I believe we have much to discuss.” He then left the room.

Madam Pomfrey then handed them their Jedi robes and belts. Anakin was pleased to note that they had not touched his lightsaber. They dressed behind the curtains and saw that James was waiting for them by the door.

“You ready?” he asked. “Then follow me.”

It took them quite a while to get to Dumbledore's office, for the staircases moved and Anakin got stuck a few times on certain steps. But finally, James led them to a stone statue. “Pop rocks,” he said, and the statue moved aside, much to the surprise of Anakin and Obi-Wan (though the latter didn't show it). Suddenly, stairs appeared and the two Jedi followed James up them to Dumbledore's office.

The office had quite a few portraits of people in similar clothes as Dumbledore. They appeared to be asleep, but the Force told Anakin otherwise. The Chosen One looked around to see many golden and silver trinkets lining up the room. On a perch next to a wooden desk, sat a beautiful red and gold bird. Upon noticing the Jedi, it opened its mouth and trilled a few notes. Immediately, Anakin felt more peaceful than any time meditating could have done.

“Ah,” said a voice from the desk, “I see that you have not gotten yourselves lost. Very good.”

Anakin looked over to see that Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting at his desk. Obi-Wan bowed his head. “Thank you for your kind hospitality. My apprentice and I are very grateful.”

The headmaster's eyes twinkled. “Oh, it's no trouble at all. You should be thanking young James over here. He was the one who discovered you two among the rubble that was your vehicle.” He then looked at them. “May I inquire as to who you are and what you are doing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”

Soon, the explanations began. Obi-Wan and Anakin explained who they were and about the galaxy. According to Headmaster Dumbledore, nobody on this planet had ever heard of the Galactic Republic or of the Jedi Order. In turn, Anakin and Obi-Wan had never heard of the planet called Earth or of its inhabitants—called Wizards and Muggles and Squibs. Meanwhile, the boy called James was looking in between Anakin and Obi-Wan with a look of awe on his face.

Suddenly, Anakin was brought back to the conversation at hand when Dumbledore said, “James, would it be alright with you to lead young Mr. Skywalker on a tour of the school and the grounds while I inspect the ship with Mr. Kenobi. Of course you can have your friends help you.”

James nodded and said to Anakin, “Come on.”

***

While on that tour with James, Anakin learned that they were quite a bit alike. Both in love with one girl and one girl only, having a good sense of humor and having great friends. They also swapped adventure stories of their childhood.

Anakin also met James' friends: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, and James' beloved: Lily Evans. The young Jedi padawan found their company to be quite enjoyable.

The bad news was that their ship was totaled and couldn't be salvaged; so Obi-Wan had to contact the Temple (after having Headmaster Dumbledore cast a spell to allow the comlink to work in the school as technology didn't work because of all the magic) to have someone to pick them up.

So, while they were waiting, Anakin decided to make a magic-resistant communication unit for James and his friends to use so that they would be able to contact each other after Anakin left. After two weeks, a ship came for Anakin and Obi-Wan. As Anakin was saying his goodbyes to his new friends, he received a vision from the Force. It was of James and Lily holding a little boy with James' hair and Lily.

“You two are going to have a beautiful son,” he told the couple. “He'll have your hair, James, and your eyes, Lily.”

James and Lily blushed when he finished.

Vader shook himself out of his memories. That had been long ago, back when he was naïve and foolish…

But he couldn't ignore the resemblance between the boy and James.

It must be his son, Vader surmised.

But that thought brought on another question: Why would the emperor want James Potter's son? That boy couldn't be Force-sensitive, could he?

***

(Number 4 Privet Drive, England, Earth)

“Sirius!”

Harry James Potter woke up from yet another nightmare about the events of June at the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic in London, England. It had been almost a month since his godfather, Sirius Black, had been killed—by his own cousin's hand. Though Bellatrix Lestrange may have caused the ex-convict to fall into the veil, Harry blamed himself because he was the reason Sirius was there in the first place.

During his History of Magic exam, Harry had received a vision of Lord Voldemort, the darkest sorcerer in the last century, torturing Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Shaken by what he had seen, Harry had used the fireplace in Dolores Umbridge's headmistress office to contact Grimmauld Place, where Sirius was staying. The house-elf, Kretcher, answered and told Harry that Sirius was over at the Department of Mysteries.

Harry, along with Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom, flew on creatures called thestrals over to the Ministry of Magic to try and rescue Sirius. Soon, the six teenagers realized that it was a trap and were ambushed by Death Eaters (Voldemort's servants). In the midst of all that, Sirius and some of the members of the Order of the Phoenix (an organization headed by Albus Dumbledore who were trying to stop Voldemort and the Death Eaters) arrived to save Harry and his friends.

Unfortunately, things became worse. Harry watched in horror as Sirius fell into the veil to the beyond. In his anger, he unconsciously tapped into an unknown power and hit Bellatrix with an unforgivable curse—the cruciatus curse, to be exact. Then Voldemort possessed Harry during the duel between the dark lord and Dumbledore. Once again, Harry tapped into that unknown power that got him free of Voldemort.

“Not again,” Harry muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He'd been having the same nightmare for the past few weeks—and if he wasn't dreaming of Sirius, he was dreaming of Voldemort's possession.

I can't take this. I didn't ask to have an old bat make a prophecy saying that I have to kill or be killed. Why me? Harry thought desperately.

Ah yes, the prophecy. The one that stated the Voldemort would mark someone as his equal and the marked one would have the ability to defeat him with the “power the Dark Lord knows not.”

I'm so sorry, Sirius, Harry thought miserably. I'm sorry that I ended your life so soon.

Ever since he had returned to the Dursleys (who had heeded Mad-Eye Moody's warning and left him alone) Harry had become depressed and let his thoughts travel down the path of “what if?”. He had replayed it over and over in his mind—if he'd only listened to Hermione when she said that it could be a trap. But instead he had to follow through his “saving people thing” as his best friend of over five years put it. It was all Harry's fault.

Not exactly, part of him retorted. If Dumbledore had told you everything from the beginning, Sirius would not have died because you would not have gone to the Department of Mysteries. He shares the blame in this, too.

Harry sighed, then looked at his alarm clock to see that it was three in the morning. I'd better get some sleep, he said to himself. You never know what tomorrow will bring. He yawned and closed his eyes. Soon, he was fast asleep.

He had no idea how right he was…

Sorry that this chapter is so short, but this is meant to introduce everyone and how the emperor and Vader know about magic and stuff. Next chapter will (hopefully, don't quote me on it) be longer.

Until then, please review!

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Okay, I am very sorry to be taking this long to update! But it's more difficult to do—reasoning being that this combines two incredible sagas!

DISCLAIMER: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am neither one of them, so you can't sue me!

On with the fic!

(Number Four, Privet Drive, England, Earth)

Harry woke up a few hours later feeling grateful that he hadn't had another nightmare. Instead he dreamed of a blonde boy with piercing blue eyes, who looked around nine or ten years of age, in a strange shop of some sort lined with strange beeping machines that were unrecognizable. He was talking to a pretty girl a few years older than him (the blonde boy) with her brown hair done in multiple braids. She was saying something.

“You're a slave?”

It was obvious she was speaking to the blonde boy, who looked upset at her question.

“I'm a person and my name's Anakin.”

The girl immediately began apologizing, saying that this place was strange to her.

Harry didn't understand what this was about. He'd never seen these people before in his life (except that the girl seemed to remind Harry of Hermione for some strange reason)—he didn't recognize the boy's name. He'd never heard anyone name a child `Anakin.'

Soon enough, the dream had ended and Harry had awakened, pondering the dream.

That was strange, Harry thought. He then cupped his chin. Maybe it's my imagination or I've finally gone nutters!

Before he could begin wondering about his sanity, there was a shriek of “Boy! Get down here for breakfast! Now!” from Aunt Petunia in the kitchen.

Harry left his room and went downstairs to meet his `family' for breakfast. This summer, the almost sixteen year old had put himself into a routine: eat breakfast, go to his room to brood and write his daily letter to the Order of the Phoenix, eat lunch, go to his room and blame himself for Voldemort's return, eat dinner, go to his room and blame himself for his parents, Sirius, and Cedric's deaths, and stay awake until he couldn't anymore to avoid dreaming.

But today something would change all of that.

Harry quickly gulped down his food (which was finally size enough for Harry, since the Dursleys feared the wrath of the Order) and went upstairs to begin his message to the Order of: `I'm alive, no mistreatment' without saying a word to Aunt Petunia or Dudley. (Uncle Vernon had already left for work.) Harry had just dipped his quill into his inkbottle when it happened: the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and Harry had a strange feeling that something was going to happen—like a gut feeling.

He then heard the doorbell, Aunt Petunia opening it with her usual remarks, screaming, gunshots, and then silence.

That's not good, Harry thought, quickly dropping the quill and sneaking out into the hallway close to the stairs to see what was going on. What he saw on the lower level shocked him.

There were eight men (at least Harry thought they were men) downstairs in white helmets and armor with that looked like black Muggle riffles, standing over the still forms of Harry's aunt and cousin.

One of the armored men spoke up. “Neither of these two match the description of the boy Lord Vader wants.”

“He must be upstairs,” another one said.

Just then the man who had spoken first looked up to see the black haired wizard standing at the rail. “There he is! Stun him!” All eight men began to fire at Harry with their rifles; strangely enough, bullets weren't coming out, but beams of light.

Harry dodged the beams and saw that they were just as dangerous as bullets. One shot blew a hole into the wall by his ear. The Boy Who Lived cursed himself for not bringing his wand with him. You git! No wonder you get everyone killed! You're ignoring what Moody said about Constant Vigilance! He grew so angry at himself that he began to feel that same power he had felt in the Ministry a month ago. As if he knew what to do, Harry flung his hand out and one of the men's guns shot straight to his hand, leaving its owner unarmed.

Harry then aimed it at the white man he'd somehow summoned the gun from and pulled the trigger. Immediately a blue beam of light shot out of the barrel and hit the armored man, who promptly fell down. Normally, Harry would've felt horrible for killing someone, but he was high on adrenaline and didn't much care about morals at the moment.

Harry dodged a couple more beams and retaliated by shooting down another man. For someone who had never had never used a gun before, the green eyed boy had surprisingly good aim. Though, Harry supposed, that strange power that helped him get the gun seemed to be helping him hit his targets in the right spots. He then shot down two more men, dodging more beams aimed at him.

One of them seemed to realize that they were slowly losing to a teenage boy and pulled out a small device, yelling something Harry couldn't hear over the noise of the guns being put to use. A few minutes later a tall man appeared in the doorway leading to the Dursleys' parlor. He was covered in black armor and had on a black mask. Harry felt a sense of awe and fear heavily in the room. Immediately, the white armored men ceased shooting at Harry. Now, the wizarding world's savior could hear a loud noise that sounded like breathing. It sent shivers of fear down the teenager's spine.

“Ah, Mr. Potter,” the dark man said in a deep voice. “You seem to be quite a challenge for my stormtroopers here. Clearly, the Force is with you.”

Harry wondered what the Force was, but didn't get a chance to think on it because the dark man was drawing on that same power that Harry had accessed earlier—only more powerful, and darker. He raised his hand and Harry was floating in the air like he was hit with a levitation charm!

Harry was really confused now. How could this man do wandless magic (because that was the only thing that made sense)? From what Harry knew (by endless lectures, courtesy of Hermione) only Professor Dumbledore could do that. Who was this man?

“My name is not important for the moment,” the mysterious man answered Harry's mental question. “But my master is in need of your services,” he continued.

Now Harry had passed confusion and had gone into bewilderment. “Your master?” he managed to get out. “What in the world is going on?”

“Your destiny is about to change into something far greater, Harry Potter.” before Harry could ponder that statement, he was flung into the wall and thought no more.

8888888

(Number 12 Grimmauld Place, England, Earth)

Hermione Granger woke up from a light doze in her bedroom in the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, feeling that something, somewhere, had gone terribly wrong.

Ever since she was little, Hermione had always had some sort of “danger sense,” as she called it—instances like when she felt something bad was going to happen, like when her grandfather had gotten a heart attack right in the middle of dinner at Hermione's parents' house or when she had a dream about a friend's mother getting hit by a car. Her parents were both shocked whenever their daughter experienced these instances and tried to discourage her from using it—especially her father (of which she had absolutely no idea why). When she had gone to Hogwarts it had only increased.

In her first year, she had odd feelings of déjà vu constantly. The year after that, she had a vision of a giant snake (which she later realized was a basilisk) coming up on her in the library minutes before she was Petrified. Third year, she dreamed that Harry was surrounded by dementors and being lifted up by one of them and getting Kissed. (The next day, they had run into Sirius Black and what Hermione feared came to pass: she was barely conscious but saw that a dementor was about to Kiss him, but she then passed out.)

In fourth year, Hermione had had a bad feeling that something really bad was going to happen during the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, but she brushed it off as being paranoid. Unfortunately, her feeling was right and Harry disappeared along with Cedric Diggory and the Triwizard Cup, only to reappear hours later, even more injured, clutching the cup and Cedric's dead body, telling Dumbledore that Voldemort had returned. (She never did quite find out what had happened when Harry met the Dark Lord.)

The previous year, fifth year, she had had her own vision at the end of year—around O.W.L.s about Harry, herself, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville being surrounded by Death Eaters, telling them that Harry had fallen for a trap. When Harry had received his vision of his godfather being tortured, Hermione felt that that was what her vision was warning her about. She tried to dissuade Harry, but as her best friend was always stubborn, he felt he had to go save Sirius, and her vision came true.

Hermione never knew how or why she got these visions and feelings and dreams (these were also the reason she didn't like Divination with Professor Trelawney—it was obvious that the woman was a fraud), but now knew better than to question them. She did, however, look into every book she got her hands on to find an explanation for it. None of them came close to describing her condition. (Not even one explaining about Seers; it said that a person was about to do Tarot readings and see in a crystal ball—which Hermione could do neither.)

“Hermione? Earth to Hermione!”

The bushy-haired girl was shaken out of her ponderings and musings by Ginny Weasley, a red haired girl the youngest of seven—all of her elder siblings being male—who was currently waving her hand in front of Hermione's face.

Hermione shook her head. “Sorry—got lost in my own thoughts.”

Ginny smirked. “Not surprising there.”

Before the Muggle-born witch could come up with a retort, the door was jerked open. A boy with short hair the exact shade as Ginny's came bursting in.

“Ron!” Ginny exclaimed. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Ron Weasley, Hermione's other best friend, didn't even bristle at what his little sister by one year said. He was looking panicked.

“Ron, what's wrong?” Hermione asked him.

“Harry's missing!” Ron exclaimed.

Ginny's eyes widened. Hermione gasped. Her feeling had been right. Something bad had happened.

“Who did it?” Ginny demanded.

“Mundungus Fletcher said that he was going on patrol at Privet Drive when out of nowhere these white armored men showed up and hit him with some blue that did him the same as a Stunning curse. When he woke up, he went to the Dursleys' house to see that the house was a wreck (there were many holes in the walls), Harry's aunt and fat cousin stunned, and no sign of Harry,” Ron explained.

Both Ginny and Hermione couldn't speak, for they were trying to absorb the information that they had just heard.

“Anyways,” Ron continued after a minute of silence, “You-Know-Who doesn't have him—Snape just came back from a meeting. The Death Eaters haven't been anywhere near the Dursleys' house.”

Tears slowly began making their way down Hermione's face. “Harry,” she whispered.

Ginny went over to the upset witch and hugged her. A couple of minutes later, Ron joined in. They were all mourning the disappearance of their black-haired, green-eyed friend.

Harry, where are you? Hermione asked mentally.

8888888

(Imperial Palace, Coruscant—A Few Days Later)

Darth Vader entered the Emperor's throne room followed by two stormtroopers, who were carrying an unconscious Harry Potter.

“Here is the boy, as you requested, Master,” said Vader as he bowed.

The stormtroopers placed the still form of the black haired teenager on the floor before the galactic ruler.

“Good.” Palpatine smiled maliciously. He directed his next statement at the stormtroopers. “Wait outside the room until I call for you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” one of the stormtroopers said, leading his squadron mates out of the chamber.

As soon as the door slid shut, Palpatine immediately began his questioning. “How did the capture go? Not too much difficulty, I assume.”

“Before I knocked him out, the boy had stunned four out of the eight stormtroopers with one of their own blasters. I could feel him using the Force to hit his targets, and before when he summoned that blaster. For someone who is only a Force-Sensitive, he is surprisingly powerful,” Vader reported.

“Have you searched through his memories?” the emperor inquired.

“Yes,” Vader replied. “He is almost sixteen years old. He's been through five years of wizarding education. He has been fighting a man called Lord Voldemort—who apparently killed the boy's parents when the boy was only fifteen months old, and returned to power over a year ago. He has just recently lost his godfather, Sirius Black.”

Palpatine smirked. “Ah, seeing death and destruction for quite a bit of his life. I believe he will be of great use to us.”

“There is only one problem,” Vader interjected. “He cares a great deal for his friends—especially the bushy-haired one. They may end up keeping him from giving himself to the Dark Side.”

Palpatine's smle only grew wider. “There is more than one way to surrender to the Dark Side.” He turned his head down towards Vader. “I'll call you back here when I need you. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, my master.” Vader nodded and left the room.

The galactic ruler then directed his attention back at the unconscious boy. He decided to first get to know the boy by using the Force and look through his memories—more thorough search than Vader had done. He opened himself up to the Dark Side of the Force and entered the boy's mind. He was quite amused by what he saw:

… A thirteen year old Harry Potter was sitting on a bed in a red and gold room with a book open, looking at various pictures, stopping on one that held a picture of a black-haired hazel eyed man in black clothing, smiling and looking at the woman next to him. She had red hair and the boy's green eyes, wearing a white dress. Next to the both of them, laughing, was another man with black hair to his shoulders. Somehow this made the boy become full of hatred. …

… Now Harry was in another red and gold room that held couches, chairs and a fireplace. On one of the couches, was a red-haired boy with freckles and a bushy-haired girl with large front teeth. They were talking to Harry.

“…you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't do anything stupid.”

“Like what?” Harry asked, quite calmly.

“Like going after Black,” the freckled boy said in a sharp tone.

“You won't, will you, Harry?” the girl asked.

“Because Black's not worth dying for,” the boy finished.

Palpatine could sense frustration and anger coming from Potter towards his friends. Ooh, this was going to be good…

“D'you know what I see every time a dementor gets too near me?”

The boy's friends shook the their heads with concerned looks on their faces.

“I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her—”

“There's nothing you can do!” the girl interrupted, beginning to look scared. “The dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and—and serve him right!”

Harry was looking even angrier. The Force was practically tingling around the boy.

“You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others.”

“So, what are you saying?” the red haired boy asked in a worried tone. “You want to—to kill Black or something?” …

… “I thought you'd come and help your friend.” A black haired pale man with blue eyes and yellow teeth was speaking in a hoarse voice. “Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run to a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…”

His words were making Harry very angry—similar to that of Vader's own anger. The Force was swirling around him, telling the Emperor of the boy's intention, which he was pleased to note that Harry wanted to kill this man.

But suddenly the girl and the injured boy were holding Harry back from what he wanted to do.

Foolish children, Palpatine thought.

They were speaking, but the galactic ruler didn't pay attention. He wanted to see what would happen…

He suddenly tuned back in when Harry bellowed, “HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!” Next, the boy had broken free of his friends' hands and went straight for the adult. He wasn't even using magic to hurt the pale man, but eventually (with his friends' help, to Palpatine's surprise) held the man at wand point, ready to kill him. He was delving into the Dark Side of the Force to help him keep the man on the ground. …

… “Wands out, d'you reckon?” said a brown haired boy with gray eyes who looked to be a couple or more years older than Harry (who looked around fourteen).

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, looking nervous and pulling out his wand alongside the other boy.

The boys were in a graveyard, a golden trophy on the ground next to them.

Harry kept looking around, suddenly feeling that he was being watched. (Which of course he was using the Force to learn that, Palpatine said to himself.)

“Someone's coming,” the black-haired boy said all of a sudden.

A dark figure covered up by what looked like robes, holding a bundle of clothes, came closer to the boys. The man eventually stopped before the boys and they all looked at each other. But then, Harry was on the ground, clutching his strange lightning bolt scar as if it were in pain.

Suddenly a voice called out, “Kill the spare.”

The cloaked man then called out, “Avada Kedavra!”

Green light came out of the man's stick (which Palpatine assumed was his wand) and hit the boy next to Harry. He then fell to the ground and immediately stopped breathing, his eyes widened.

Harry then looked over at the dead boy, the Force practically screaming his emotions of shock. …

… “SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL!” Harry was shouting. “YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT—WHO SAVED THE SORCERER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH OF YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?”

Now, Harry definitely reminded Palpatine of Vader when his apprentice became angry.

“WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!”

The freckled boy was staring at him with his mouth open while the girl looked about ready to cry.

Harry continued on yelling at his friends (with the Force screaming out his anger), who kept trying to calm him down, but were unsuccessful.

Meanwhile, Palpatine was impressed. This boy had an impressive unconscious control over the Force. He just needed some help in how to control it willingly.

The memory then changed to another one…

… Suddenly the view changed to the same sort of room Palpatine had seen the first time he had seen a vision of Harry. But this time, that same man from the memory of Harry's thirteenth year of life was falling into a veil. (Ah, so that's how his godfather died, Palpatine thought.) A woman was screaming—the same woman the teenager had cursed in his fury.

“SIRIUS!” the boy yelled, collapsing to the ground with huge gasping breaths. “SIRIUS!”

He then tried to go over to the veil to grab his godfather, but another man held him back.

“There's nothing you can do, Harry—”

“Get him, save him, he's only gone through!”

“It's too late, Harry—”

“We can still reach him—”

“There's nothing you can do, Harry… nothing… He's gone.”

“He hasn't gone!”

Now Harry was fighting the man who was holding him back.

“SIRIUS!” he bellowed. “SIRIUS!”

“He can't come back, Harry,” said the man who was holding onto the teenager for dear life. “He can't come back, because he's—”

“HE—IS—NOT—DEAD!” the fifteen year old bellowed. “SIRIUS!” …

… Harry was now in an office of some sort, filled with moving portraits, sitting across from a man with long white hair, matching beard, and blue eyes.

“I don't want to talk about how I fell, all right?” Harry said suddenly.

“Harry, suffering like this proves that you are still a man! This part is part of being human—” the old man tried to say, but was interrupted.

“THEN—I—DON'T—WANT—TO—BE—HUMAN!” Harry screamed, taking something sliver from a table nearby him and throwing it against the wall.

The moving portraits began speaking, but Harry shut them up by saying, “I DON'T CARE!”

He then grabbed something else and threw it into the fireplace that was in the office. “I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE—”

Now, the green-eyed Force Sensitive was grabbing a table and threw, which then easily broke apart. …

My, the Emperor thought as he pulled out of his new apprentice's mind, so much power and anger. I was right in choosing him.

He then pressed a button on his throne chair. “Commander, you and your squadron may come back in.”

Immediately, the stormtroopers that he had sent out earlier entered the throne room.

“What is you wish, my Emperor?” the squadron leader asked.

“Send some of your men to prepare rooms for my new apprentice,” Palpatine ordered. “The rest of you are to bring Mr. Potter to the medical bay to treat his injury to the back of his neck. Make sure he stays unconscious. Then, after that, you are to take him to his new chambers.”

“Yes, your highness,” they all answered in unison. Four of them immediately left the room to set up the rooms, two of them went ahead to the medical bay, and the other two picked up the unconscious apprentice and left the room.

The ruler of the galaxy smiled to himself. Everything was going as he had hoped.

Alright, I don't know when I'll get the next chapter up (I HATE PHYSIOANATOMY!), but I'll try to do the best I can! Also, I hope that you guys are happy with the length of this chapter—it's not as easy as it looks!

Now, make my day and please review!

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