Chapter Twenty-Five: Baiting Dragons

Star Wars + Harry Potter Crossover

A/N: Chap 24 review responses are in my forums as normal. Thanks for reading.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Baiting Dragons

Jack was nimble, Jack was quick, but Jack still couldn't dodge Kyle Katarn's roundhouse kick

Deep in his meditation, Harry felt Kyle's presence in his mind and embraced it. Quicker than words, he shared everything that had happened with Dumbledore and the ring, while Kyle shared with him their own adventures, and what they had to do next.

Harry described how he could feel the two horcruxes through his scar, while Kyle confirmed the existence of a prophecy and Voldemort's attempts to obtain it. Harry felt his heart skip a beat when he realized just what his master was telling him.

They were going to lay a trap, and both Harry and the prophecy were to be the bait.

I don't believe Dumbledore is an evil man, Harry told Kyle over the link. The magic he used to get to the ring was awe-inspiring, and he was at great risk the entire time. He lost his arm in the process. I'm just not sure how much we can trust him.

What about Lupin?

Same. Fundamentally a good man bound by deep loyalty to Dumbledore. He and Black owe him for something he did for them when they were students, and it's tied them to him. However, they also feel obligated to protect me because of their loyalty to my father.

Bound as they were by their padawan link and their mutually deep meditation, he felt Kyle's thoughts as if they were his own, nor did his master try to shield him from those ponderings. With you and the prophecy as bait, there is real risk that Voldemort himself may come. I won't lie—after my fight with Rookwood, I'm no longer certain that I could take an even more powerful wizard. If Voldemort comes, we'll need Dumbledore to delay him long enough for our objective.

Harry considered the matter before nodding. Partial truths. Just like he's been doing to us the entire time.

Agreed. Be careful, Padawan.

With that, the meditation ended and Harry climbed out of bed. Though Kyle was officially deceased, because of Harry's uncertain status within the school, he continued to sleep in the quarters originally assigned to the two of them. After a shower, he donned informal Jedi Padawan attire, pulled on his boots, clipped on his saber, and left the room.

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast while talking with one of her roommates that Harry had seen but didn't know. Dumbledore was not at the head table but McGonagall was at her traditional spot. Unfortunately, Snape sat at the head table as well, and he followed Harry's every step with a half sneer. Harry ignored it as he sat down beside Hermione, opposite her friend. "Good morning."

She turned, and it felt as if someone had goosed him, the way his heart skipped at her beaming smile. "Good morning!" she said.

He noticed her lips appeared redder than normal, and there was a faint blush on her cheeks. With a start, he realized she was wearing make-up. Not much, and in subtle amounts, but she was definitely wearing make-up. "Harry, have you met my roommate, Faye Dunbar?"

"Not formally," Harry said with a polite nod. "How are you, Faye?"

"Oh, I'm just dandy," the tall, long-faced blonde said with a smirk. "Well, I have Care for Magical creatures first thing, so I'm off. Have fun!" With that she stood and flounced away, pausing only to look over her shoulder at the two of them.

Harry frowned. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said a little too quickly. "So, what are your plans today?"

"I'm going to audit seventh year classes today," Harry said. "And then I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore, but it'll likely not be until this afternoon."

"Oh, what about?"

Glancing about, Harry saw Draco Malfoy across the hall starting intently, while at the head table Snape was doing the same. "I'll tell you someplace safe," Harry said. "Would you meet me after lunch on the seventh floor? The same spot as before."

Perhaps remembering their kisses, Hermione's artfully applied blush reddened even more. "Okay, I'll see you there."

With that, she stood and walked toward her first morning class, glancing over her shoulder at him just like Faye did. Girls.

He felt bad lying to her, but didn't see any alternative. After eating, he stood and instead of going to any seventh-year classes, he went to the headmaster's office. "I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore on an urgent matter," Harry told the guardian gargoyle.

The stone sculpture nodded before sliding out of the way. Harry proceeded up the stairs of the tower until he reached the by now familiar office of Headmaster Dumbledore. Somehow, he was not surprised to find Remus Lupin with the headmaster.

"Ah, Harry, good morning!" Dumbledore said expansively, as if he were not just recently amputated by his young guest. "How fortuitous. We were discussing…"

"Professor, I would like Mr. Lupin to take me to the Hall of Prophecies."

Professor Dumbledore stared, mouth still open from what he was about to say. Remus tilted his head in confusion. "May I ask why, Harry?" Remus said.

"I want to view the prophecy directly, and then I want to destroy it," Harry said.

"How do you…?"

"I told Mr. Potter and Mr. Katarn years ago, Remus," Dumbledore admitted. "Mr. Katarn rather insisted on it, as you might have imagined if you'd ever met the man. Harry, if you want it destroyed, I can do that myself, as I was the witness to the prophecy."

"With all due respect, Professor, it has to be me."

Remus was about to ask why, but Harry was looking directly at the older wizard and saw the machinations spinning in his head. It was his and Kyle's believe that Dumbledore was an exceedingly intelligent man, and with only a hint could arrive at conclusions rather quickly. "Why the sudden request?" he finally asked.

"My scar hurt when we went on our adventure," Harry said, telling the absolute truth of one thing to avoid another. "I want to know why. And more importantly, I don't want my enemies to know why, especially now that so many of them are free. They're going to go after it, aren't they?"

"I'm sure they've already made attempts," Dumbledore said. "It would be an excellent opportunity for a trap, Mr. Potter, for either side. However, unlike Tom, our side is not ready for such a confrontation for reasons you know very well. You must realize there is some danger involved in your request."

"Sirius can come as well, then," Harry said, acting to compromise by offering what he planned all along.

At the last, Dumbledore finally nodded. "Very well, Harry. This evening after dinner you may be excused from the grounds. Remus and I'm sure Sirius will be glad to take you to the Ministry. For your own safety, though, tell know one. I'll ensure all the portraits in this office are silenced. I cannot stress this enough, Harry. We're not ready for a confrontation. Please, for everyone's sake, tell no one."

"I understand, Professor," Harry said, again stating a perfect truth in lieu of another. He understood the professor very well; he just wasn't going to obey him.

That afternoon, Harry stood near the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. He saw Hermione crest the last step of the stairs down the hall and smiled to himself. As she approached, he also sensed another presence, even though he could see nothing. Whoever had come was using a different invisibility cloak than the first. Rather than be alarmed, though, he merely nodded. The hidden presence was not unexpected at all.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said with that breath-taking smile of hers. She was pulling nervously on a strand of hair as she greeted him.

"Hello. Thank you for coming. Can we sit for a moment?" He motioned a stone bench nearby the rarely used corridor, and with a nod she joined him there. She placed her book bag down beside the bench, and the rested her hands on her lap and looked at him expectedly.

The Jedi in him noticed how dilated her eyes were and how her nostrils flared with each breath. He could sense her nervousness and anticipation. The boy in him was overcome by the smell of her perfume, and the way she lightly bit her lower lip as she glanced up at him, and…

…and someone was watching them. It was like fighting off a spell, the effect she had on him. He reached down and took her hand, and leaned close to her as if to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Instead, he whispered, "Don't respond to what I say. Malfoy is a few feet away, under an invisibility cloak. It's vital that he hear what I'm about to say and report it to Snape."

And then, because the sheer smell and presence of her overwhelmed him, he kissed her jawbone just below her ear. She reared away, upset and confused not just by his words, but by the intimate kiss. "What do you mean?"

Holding her hand, Harry cleared his throat. "There is a prophecy about me and Voldemort. It's at the Department of Mysteries. Tonight, Remus and Sirius are going to take me to see it."

She stared hard at him, lips parted and brows furrowed as she tried to figure out if he was speaking the truth, or a lie for the benefit of their invisible eavesdropper. "Why would…?"

"It was why he went after my parents," Harry said. "And why he tried to kill me. It explains this scar, Hermione. I have to know, and then I have to destroy it to make sure he never does. I just…I suppose I'm worried about what will happen and wanted to tell someone."

"Well, I hope…"

And then Harry was kissing her, audience be damned. It was not a conscious impulse; one moment he was listening to her, and the next they were kissing. It wasn't like the stressful kisses in the Room of Requirement, or even the thrilling, innocent kiss after the Yule Ball. It felt familiar and right and wonderful.

Their lips parted and she stared back at him, wide-eyed. "I don't know when I'll be back," he said, and he tried to push as much meaning into it as he could. "I'm afraid of what I'm going hear. What could happen. I just wanted to tell you… this, I suppose. I hated the idea of coming here, Hermione. I hated being forced away from my old life. But you…you made it worth it. Thank you."

Hermione stammered only a moment before she squeezed his hand. "You're welcome," she said simply. Then, abruptly, she said, "Now tell my about the O.W.L.s! Were they hard? What subjects did you take?"

Harry laughed just because it was just so Hermione. And so he talked about the O.W.L.s, describing each subject and answering her questions. And as he did so, he felt the presence of Malfoy fade away completely—the boy was obviously not interested in hearing about exams he didn't even have to take for a year.

"He's gone," he whispered between questions.

Hermione's entire persona changed abruptly. She leaned back from him and took a long, shaking breath. "So, how much of that was for him, and how much of it was the truth?"

"I already knew about the prophecy," Harry said. "Other than that, it's all the truth."

"Then why…"

"We're setting a trap. And I'm the bait."

Hermione stared at him, all smiles gone. "Harry, that's utterly insane. You're fourteen years old, you have no business acting the part of bait!"

"I'm also a Jedi padawan," Harry said. "It has to be this way. But don't worry, I suspect Dumbledore and several others will be on hand as well. I'm not going to be alone, and I won't be expected to do any fighting."

"It's still dangerous, Harry."

He shrugged. "It needs to be done. And I'd rather it be me than you, or Neville, or anyone else for that matter. It is a Jedi's duty to protect the innocent."

During the entire talk, Harry realized abruptly that he'd been holding her hand. As if she could sense his sudden shift in thought, she took looked down at their entwined fingers. "What does this mean, Harry?" she asked softly. She did not look up when she said it.

"I've never really had a girlfriend before," Harry said. "But this is what I always thought it would be like."

"Girlfriend?" She finally looked up, and this time Harry was the one who flushed red.

"Well, I mean, if you…you know…" She saved him from faltering any worse by leaning over and kissing him again.

"Girlfriend sounds perfect," she said with a grin. She sobered quickly, though. "And for your girlfriend, Harry, please be careful."

Harry understood her fear—he felt it too. "I promise."

~~Katarn~~

~~Katarn~~

Harry stepped with forced calm through the large fireplace into a wide aisle set between more than a dozen identical fireplaces in the center of the ministry. Remus and Sirius stepped through immediately behind them. Given the late hour, they appeared to be the only ones in the receiving area of the floos.

"This way," Sirius said with the confident air of someone who knew his way around. He led them from the floos toward what looked like a security cordon with one long, wooden desk blocking the floos from a large open hall surrounded by offices beyond.

A security guard sat up at the desk, dropping the thin romance novel he'd been reading in his surprise. "Who're you, then?" the young man asked.

"Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Harry Potter," Sirius said grandly. "I believe the Unspeakables are waiting for us."

The guard stared, open-mouthed, at Harry before scrambling to what looked very much like a soup can on a string. The man spoke into it, announcing the visitors. Whatever its appearance, the magic made the responding voice clear and loud enough for Harry to hear it.

"They are expected. Let them pass."

With a last nervous look, the guard pressed his wand to something under his desk. "You're clear to go, then."

Sirius swept past the wardline, with Harry and Remus close on his heels. "This doesn't feel right," Remus said nervously. "How did Albus get us after-hours access?"

Sirius shrugged. "He knows all the Unspeakables, I suppose."

They reached the lift in an empty corridor and started down in silence. "Still," Sirius continued as if nothing were unusual about a nighttime jaunt to the Ministry of Magic, "never hurts to keep our wands handy."

The lift finally came to a stop and opened onto the grimmest, most depressing hallway Harry had ever seen. The hall was completely covered in polished black tile, floor, walls and ceilings. Occasionally lamps cast a dull glow onto the hall, doing more to highlight how dark everything was than to actually illuminate their steps.

"Charming," Sirius said. "Reminds me of my parent's house. Come on, then."

The three men left the lift and walked down the length of the hall until they reached the same spinning room that Kyle and Amelia passed through just days before. In the center of the room stood a lone, cloaked figure. As they approached, the doors around them began to spin until at the Unpseakable's gesture, the spinning abruptly stopped. The Unspeakable pointed one gloved finger to the door just to Harry's right.

"Thanks, Chap," Sirius said gaily. "Pleasure talking as always. Tootle-loo!"

They stepped through the door indicated, and then came to a stop. "Whoa," Harry whispered.

The Hall of Prophecy had a lot of prophecies. Shelves seemingly rose to impossible heights, one after the other as far as he could see, each holding hundreds of orbs, glowing like stars in a galaxy of shelves.

"How are we supposed to find the right one?" Harry asked. "We could be looking in here for years and not find it."

Remus, though, walked toward one of the shelves before nodding. "This way."

"How do you know?"

"It's alphabetical according to the seer," Lupin said with a shrug. He led them down the shelves, one after the other, dozens and dozens, until after a very long walk they reached row 97. On the fourth shelf up from the ground, Harry saw a label that read: S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter. He noticed his name had been added with by a different hand, likely after his parents died.

"Does the Professor really have five names?" he asked.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Lupin said. "One name for every uncle he had growing up, or so I've heard."

"And his brother?" Harry asked.

"Just Aberforth. I think that's why Abe always felt a little shorted in the deal," Sirius said with a grin. "Well, Harry, you're the only one who can take it off the shelf."

Harry nodded and stepped toward the shelf. As he did so, he felt the first stirrings in the Force of danger. He glanced over his shoulder at his father's friends, neither of whom knew that this was a trap, and that the three of them were the bait. Kyle's plan was typical in that it was direct and brutal.

"Wands out," Harry said, finding himself unwilling to just throw these men away. "We're about to have company."

Before they could ask more, Harry took a breath, stepped the rest of the way and lifted the orb from its cradle.

The attack came like a tornado; a furious storm of spells meant to completely overwhelm the unprepared. He just had enough time to duck and dive for Remus before the shelf that held his orb sparked with a stunning spell. Sirius's body jerked from repeated spells, but almost all of them appeared to be mere stunners. Still, as he flew back, insensate, Harry doubted a mere enervate would wake him.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked his tutor as he stood and cast a shield against a whole bevy of spells.

"Don't worry about me, just get out!" Lupin hissed, obviously in pain, but not life-threateningly so.

That was exactly what Harry wanted to hear. He liked these men enough not to wish them harm, and being in the middle of the mess he was about to unleash was definitely harm. He dove and rolled back behind a shelf just as a figure in black robes and silver mask appeared over Remus. Harry jumped back to his feet and began casting not stunners, but the most powerful blasting curses he could.

The frequency and ferocity of the attack forced the wizard back while Harry ran forward with a burst of Force speed that made him blur in his attacker's eyes. Before the man could fully recover from the magical attack, Harry was there in person, lightsaber flashing.

He did not hesitate, or even think of hesitating. He landed on the man's chest with both feet, his blade flying up into and through the man's chin and mask, and back-flipped to his feet as the Death Eater fell back dead to the floor with a neatly bisected skull.

He spun around and saw a small pocket of Death Eaters gathered together, wands out, staring at him in utter silence. However, as he stood, crouched and ready, one of the figures pushed forward. This one did not bother with a mask, revealing a short figure with a thin, sallow face that may have been attractive once, but was long since turned ugly by hatred and ill-use. Black hair piled high over her head almost like an obnoxious hat.

"What?" she said, shrilly. "What? What is that? Is that my Rudolphus? Rudy, why are you on the ground?"

"He's killed, Trixie," another of the silver-masked figures said. "Potter done him in."

"What, what!?" She blinked and started at Harry, and in that glance he felt a malice, hatred and madness beyond anything he'd ever even considered possible. "Potter killed my Rudolphus? Potter's just a boy, he couldn'a killed my man! Not even Alastor Moody could kill my man."

Another of the figures stepped forward, wand pointed at Harry. "Hand us the Orb, Mr. Potter, and we might very well have mercy on you, despite what you've done."

Harry slipped the orb into his pocket, gripped his wand with his left hand and his saber in his right. "That may be, but what makes you think I'm going to have mercy on any of you?"

With that, Harry pulled on the native power of his lightsaber crystal and disappeared from their vision. They began casting curses in all directions, assuming he'd tried running away, but in fact Harry was running right at them. Right before he reached them, he flashed his blade on and swiped wildly as he somersaulted over the entire group.

He heard a man scream in pain and anguish while another shouted, "There he is!" He never stopped running, though. He let them catch just a glimpse before sinking back into the cloaking properties of his Stygium lightsaber crystal.

Then he waited, and waited. Then grew concerned when Kyle and Amelia didn't lead their people into the fray. Instead, the angry, injured Death Eaters, well over a dozen of them, began casting in all directions to find him.

He thought himself safe until magic once more surprised him. "Homonem Revelo!"

The magic struck him like a hammer, breaking his connection with his crystal and forcing him not only into invisibility, but stumbling in the process. Quickly realizing that something had gone wrong with the plan, Harry quickly regained his feet, but by then the Death Eaters had seen him and were swarming toward him in a strange, smoky type of apparition that looked almost as if they were flying.

Flying or not, they were going as fast as he was even with the Force boosting his speed. They were casting spells at him as they flew, forcing him to dodge and weave about, which slowed him even further.

He felt fire burn into his shoulder and a presence looming right on him. Gritting his teeth from the pain, Harry planted a foot on the wall beside him and launched himself sideways against the Death Eater. The wizard grunted in surprise as they both tumbled to the ground. Harry might have had half the man's weight and reach but he was trained in physical combat by Kyle Katarn.

With five short, powerful blows, he had the wizard down and out. He burst back to his feet, curses down the aisle at the coming wizards and witches, and then dove out the door and into the room Kyle had spoken about.

The Death Chamber.

He could feel a quiet darkness in the room—not a sense of menace, but rather just an absence of light and life. Through it all, he heard odd whispers emanating from a black stone arch that rose from the middle of the barely lit room.

He spun about as the Death Eaters arrived, flying about the chamber until they had him completely encircled. This time they did not bother with words. He heard at least three voices shout "Crucio" before his perception of existence caught pure fire. Pain unlike anything he'd ever experienced surged through his whole body.

He was consciously aware of screaming and of the hard ground under his writhing back, but those were distant, unimportant sensations. The only thing that mattered was the horrible, soul-crushing pain.

Suddenly it ended. Harry groaned as he fought to breath. He opened watery eyes, and saw a Death Eater over him, mask removed to review a long, aristocratic face with white blond hair about his shoulders. In his hand, he stared down at a glowing orb in satisfaction.

"Pity, he wanted you alive, you know," the wizard said.

Despite the convulsing muscles which still wracked his body, Harry flicked his saber on and slashed up with shout. His dark purple blade shorn right through the prophecy sphere, and the man's hand at the palm. The wizard stumbled back, staring at the bisected hand in shock, while the prophecy orb fell and shattered against the stone of the floor.

"Kill him!" The aristocratic Death Eater screamed in agony.

A second later, a bolt of orange magic hit the Death Eater in the side of his head and sent him somersaulting across the death chamber.

The Order of the Phoenix had arrived. Late, of course.