The Three Fates of Darth Gladiolus

Edelweiss woke to a dark room and soft snores. For several seconds, she rested in the strangely comfortable bed beneath her while staring at a ceiling too high to be Number Four. Her mind caught up to her body, and she recalled the previous day: the dementors, the aurors, her power in the dark side, and finally coming to her godfather's house.

She sat up slowly and stretched with her arms raised high. Pops echoed from her, with a few more coming as she rotated her torso left and right. She was sorely tempted to meditate, now that she was awake. But her master's holocron was in her trunk downstairs, and she could not recall if any defenses were active upon the trunk.

Ginny and Hermione remained asleep, unaffected by Edelweiss's morning habits. She slipped from her bed and crossed the room, pausing only when she stepped upon a particularly squeaky floorboard. Neither woke, though Ginny's breathing shifted for several seconds before returning to normal.

With a shake of her head, Edelweiss pressed on. Ginny or Hermione would wake while she was about. But it mattered not. Edelweiss had other priorities this morning beyond the pedantic matter of friendship and honesty. She had to secure the secrecy of the Sith. She had to secure her future and the power that would let her triumph over Voldemort and even Dumbledore.

She left the room, leaving the door just ajar. The hallway outside was plain with dark walls and a long stretch of green and silver carpeting down its length. Edelweiss was surprised at the lack of paintings lining the walls. Given Dumbledore used them at Hogwarts to monitor the comings and goings around the school, she had thought he would install portraits that could be used to monitor those who occupied Grimmauld Place. She did spot faint lines where portraits had once hung.

If he will not spy on those here, then neither can his enemies. The House of Black would prefer Voldemort to Dumbledore.

Edelweiss scuttled down the stairs. She glanced about upon reaching the first landing. Her gaze returned to the mounted house elf heads behind her, then ahead. No sign of movement came from below. Yet. Not even a doxy or a cockroach scurried about the filthy house. She hesitated and then decided to reach out with the Force. Nothing, not even Kreacher, was awake on the ground level.

Nothing stood between her and her trunk in the kitchen.

She finished her descent swiftly, bare feet soft on the carpeted steps. The Blacks had not spared any expense in the past. Despite the inevitable ravages of time, Number Twelve retained a quality of charm the bland prefabricated hovel the Dursleys called home could never possess. The stairs had been lovingly silent during her descent. Edelweiss wondered if she could sprint up and down their full length without making a sound. Certainly, she would be quieter than Dudley thundering down for breakfast.

No sound echoed through the house as she stepped to the ground level. Edelweiss glanced up and down the main corridor. She remained marginally surprised nobody was about. It could not be that early.

Edelweiss frowned and once more reached out with the Force. She allowed her senses to expand out further—and grimaced at what she felt. There was a dearth of magical protections within the house. What she could feel around the house was pathetic, perhaps even insignificant. She did sense the strange ward protecting the house from the naked eye, but it was oil over a watery structure.

And it could not fool the Force.

She smiled at that realization. The Force was greater than magic, even if she did not know how it would replicate the transfiguring magic from her Hogwarts education. Edelweiss briefly wondered if Lord Salazar had ever found a way to merge those powers. If the Force and her magic could work together as they had in Surrey, then certainly Lord Salazar would know more.

Edelweiss went straight to the kitchen. Her trunk rested beside the chair she had used the prior night. She went to it, kneeled, and ran a hand over the covering as she scanned the battered exterior for signs of tampering. She relied mostly on muggle means to secure her belongings. It would be suspect to use magical means, especially when staying with the Dursleys. But here, in the House of Black—

"Edie?" asked a familiar voice, yawning at the right moment to stretch the nickname. "What's ya doin' up so early?"

Edelweiss stiffened. A moment passed before she forced herself to peer over her shoulder at Sirius. He stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing a nightgown akin to Aunt Petunia's. It took more effort than she wanted to suppress the mental comparison. Even with his prankster past, he had grown up in a privileged, pureblood household. Perhaps he would claim he was different, but she suspected there were aspects of his nature that remained in line with his upbringing.

That was a realization Sirius would never acknowledge. Edelweiss knew it with great certainty.

"I wanted to retrieve my trunk before everyone woke," she said, standing straight. "The Dursleys usually lock it away. When it didn't appear upstairs…. Well, I wanted to ensure it was fine."

Sirius sighed. His grey eyes softened. "I'm sorry about—"

"You don't need to apologize." Edelweiss sighed and ran a hand through her black curls. "You did what you thought was right, Sirius. Your mind was clouded by emotion, and you made a mistake." She glanced around the kitchen, trying not to think of how she crept toward hypocrisy with those words, before adding, "And you trusted the wrong man, to both of our regrets."

"Edie," began Sirius, his face falling. "Dumbledore is a goo—"

"He is a fool, and an old one at that," she growled. Wrath bubbled within her. Her blood ran hot. "And… and he failed me! I begged him to not send me back after my first year. He claimed it was the only place where I was safe. I have never been safe while living with the Dursleys."

"You seemed fine when I saw you before your third year."

Edelweiss grimaced at the reminder of their first, unknown encounter. If she had known that dog was Sirius Black then, she would have done anything other than be startled by the appearance of a strange, massive dog. She had allowed her stupid, foolish Divination class to fill her head with silly ideas about Grims and prophecies.

She had been a fool to follow along with Ron's slothful decision. If Edelweiss knew Professor McGonagall as well as she hoped, the Transfiguration professor would not allow her to drop divination. Perhaps two years ago, it would have been fine. But she was to be a fifth year, ready to take her OWL examinations in nine months.

And yet the time could be dedicated to her true path. Edelweiss Potter accepted the fact she would fail her Divination OWL if it guaranteed she ascended to her post as Sith Lord.

To be Darth Gladiolus before she turned sixteen, let alone became an adult at seventeen.

The drums of war echoed faintly in her mind. Edelweiss's heart seized its beat.

"And what did you see, Sirius?" She continued before he could attempt to respond. "Me, fleeing that house, afraid what I had done would bring further punishment down upon my head." Sirius's mouth did not open. He had neither protest nor excuse. "Unlike you, I do not have another family I can safely flee to without risk. I'm trapped in that house, for however long Dumbledore wishes—or until I turn seventeen."

Unsaid was Edelweiss's certainty Dumbledore would never remove the orders that kept her entrenched within Number Four until she became an adult. Best she free herself bore that day could come to pass.

She recalled the blood wards around Number Four and frowned. What power could they possess now? Allegedly they saved her at eleven. Would being there for a month or two every summer be enough, as Dumbledore believed? Had Voldemort using her blood for his revival already subverted them? Edelweiss sighed and shook her head. She had no answer for the questions spiraling within her mind, and she did not trust Dumbledore enough to answer them.

And all of that was built upon the assumption Dumbledore had told her the truth. He weaved lies as a spider weaved a web. She could confront him, but could Edelweiss ever trust his words? He might preach virtue, but all she had seen from the man was vice.

And lies… Lies were a vice. She knew that truth all too well.

"I don't like that look," Sirius announced. He entered the kitchen with a wariness that surprised her. Did he think of her like a wild animal? Edelweiss watched him approach her. He was quick to kneel by her side, his face overcome with grief and despair. One of his hands came up under her jaw and raised her chin so their gazes met evenly. "You were hurt by what happened this summer. More than anyone thinks."

Edelweiss huffed and drew away from him. "I found a way to survive, Sirius." Her jaw clenched and lips pursed as she tried to suppress the flash of pain she felt at his saddened expression. She grasped her trunk and stood, lifting it from the floor. "I'll be fine. I've always been so."

Sirius stared at her with an unreadable look for several seconds before sighing. He stood as well. "If something is troubling you, Edie, you can always tell me."

She smiled and tried to forget the invasive warmth in her chest. It was inappropriate for a Sith apprentice. "I will, if there is something you can help me with."

Her words received a suspicious snort in response. Sirius shook his head as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, her trunk on the other side. "Just like your mother." Edelweiss tried not to stiffen, even as she allowed Sirius to guide her from the kitchen. "Let's get you back to bed. You have been sleeping, yes?"

"I've been sleeping fine," Edelweiss grumbled as they headed for the stairs. "I'm used to waking early. Blame the Dursleys."

"They make you cook breakfast?"

She glanced at her godfather with a guarded look. He stared down at her with those soft grey eyes again. Indignation and fury swelled within her. As easily as she could touch and wield the power of the dark side, she knew implicitly that Sirius did not deserve to have that power used against him. He had followed his wrath and hatred into a trap. Edelweiss had to learn from his example, or else the very passions that granted her immense power through the dark side would betray her to a terrible fate.

"And more," she replied, looking away. They climbed the stairs in silence. Edelweiss eventually drifted away from Sirius and toward the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione. "Clean. Garden. Cook. Those were my main chores growing up. And if I did too well at school… they would stuff me into the boot cupboard. Talk back? Cupboard. Show any emotions? Cupboard." She scoffed and shook her head. It felt strange, telling Sirius anything. "Not that they fed me enough food to make it as small and cloistering as they'd like. I was safe from them in there. I had friends in the spiders, for they afforded me none."

"Edelweiss…"

"It's fine, Sirius," Edelweiss declared. She straightened, head tilting up. "It's all in the past." She took several steps toward the room she shared, her trunk swaying in her grasp. "They'll get their due in good time." With that, Edelweiss crossed the final steps to the door and pushed it open. She did not wake them, though Hermione rolled over and grumbled in her sleep.

Without a glance towards Sirius, Edelweiss stepped inside. She set her trunk down near the bed she slept in and ran a hand over her trunk. She could feel the holocron within. She could feel how it called out to her, beckoning her interest and power.

"In due time, my master. In due time."

Edelweiss returned to the kitchen with Hermione and Ginny in tow. The other girls had remained abed for almost two more hours. Neither was pleased Edelweiss had woken early nor were they happy about her continued secrecy. While she had promised honesty, she had not promised swift answers. They could remain in the dark a while longer. Or however long it would be until Edelweiss could finish her ascension and become Darth Gladiolus.

She went to sit down. But Mrs. Weasley stepped into Edelweiss's path, her brows furrowed.

"Mrs. Weasley. A good morning to you."

"I wish I could say the same," replied Mrs. Weasley. "Instead, I've been worried all night. I barely slept because of how worried I was."

"…is this because I failed to attempt a Patronus, or because of the reported events in Surrey yesterday?"

"Both, I'm afraid."

Edelweiss glanced at Ginny and Hermione, then to the table. Ron, the Twins, and even Sirius were sat around. They all shot glances her way, clearly intrigued by whatever she might say.

Not in front of them.

"Then could we step out? I'm not in the mood for… interlopers this morning."

Mrs. Weasley frowned at Edelweiss's words but relented with a sharp nod.

Edelweiss allowed the older woman to guide the way out of the kitchen and into a room across the hallway. The room was a little dusty but otherwise remained in good shape.

"We only finished up with cleaning this room a couple days ago," Mrs. Weasley said. She sighed and muttered, "This house has proved to be difficult. Especially since Kreacher refuses to help out."

"That's… unsurprising, actually," Edelweiss said. She waited a few seconds for Mrs. Weasley to say her piece before realizing the woman stared at her. Waiting. Watching. She sighed and muttered, "What do you wish to know? I've seen that expression from enough professors to know what it means."

"I wanted to ask if you were alright, dear. I know the silence from your friends has been difficult, but it's necessary."

Edelweiss bit back the words she had uttered to Sirius and Hermione when confronted over the same matter. She turned her head away from Mrs. Weasley and muttered, "I'm fine. The aurors came to ask questions, but nothing happened. I sent them on their way. If you want to know more about that, then go ask that Shacklebolt fellow. He was there."

"And your encounter with Remus? What Albus told us was disturbing."

"…I'm welcome to my anger, am I not?"

Mrs. Weasley did not immediately respond. After several seconds, Edelweiss glanced over her shoulder at the woman. She was silent, pensively so.

"Dear… Holding on to anger is not healthy."

"But it's all I have. Otherwise, I might consider despair—or betrayal. And you cannot tell me that those would be more dangerous than only being angry."

Mrs. Weasley shot her an astonished look. When the woman failed to speak up, Edelweiss left and returned to the kitchen. She sat down and joined the others. And when Mrs. Weasley rejoined them, she pretended as though nothing had changed since last year.

Days blended together as August dragged on. Most hours were dedicated to cleaning the house. Edelweiss realized two days into the effort was akin to waging a protracted war against an entrenched foe. The house fought back, and Kreacher appeared to be her most ardent defender. Only she had any impact, which frustrated the Weasley children. While she held no ill regard toward Ginny or the Twins, Ron and Hermione remained on thin ice with her. Their conversations were short and clipped, barely more than twenty words in total.

Sirius and Arthur Weasley spent the morning on Edelweiss's first Saturday at Grimmauld Place working to reactivate the cooling charms within the home. Shortly after lunch, they got the wards working properly. Finished with their labor, they drew the children into a long break with chilled afternoon tea. Edelweiss went straight to the Twins once everyone gathered in what Sirius named "the large family room" and said, "Apologies for forgetting about our little… conversation on the Hogwarts Express." She leaned in close. "I assume you've made good use of the gold I gave you."

They blinked in unison; they suddenly reminded her of the blank look Dudley deigned her with several times in the past. They then grinned widely and seized her hands, giving long shakes that, had she not embraced the dark side, could risk yanking her arms from their sockets.

It was Fred who began speaking. "We have made—"

"—great use—" continued George.

"—great use, indeed—"

"—with the gold you gave us, Lady Potter," they finished together, beaming.

Edelweiss granted them an amused smile. "I had hoped the gold would do more good in your hands than mine. I appreciate hearing that my hope proved true—and that you have made good use of my… investment."

The Twins grinned wider than they had been. "Wish to see what else we've developed?"

"Perhaps on the Express," she replied, glancing about. "Hermione will get named prefect, so I should be free of her for some time." Edelweiss leaned in close. "You know she doesn't approve of your antics."

"I don't know about that," said George.

"She's quite intrigued by a few of our products," Fred added, nodding.

Edelweiss raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

The Twins glanced around the room before smiling smugly. George reached into the pocket of his robe and removed a pair of small human ears, linked by a long spool of clear string. "One of our developments. We call them Extendable Ears. Perfect for listening in on conversations. We used them to listen in on a few meetings, but the Order figured out what we were up to. They have wards up now."

"As they should," Edelweiss replied. She reached out to grab them, yet hesitated halfway. "May I?"

George answered by handing over the Extendable Ears. "Consider it a gift," he said, beaming. "We couldn't have finished this without the gold you gave us."

"Good, good," Edelweiss said, distracted as she inspected her gift. Once finished with her brief inspection, she pocketed the strange pair of ears. "What else have you two developed?"

"Skiving Snackboxes," stated Fred, proud of the name. "We have a few versions, though they need further refining before we can sell them."

"Then I would suggest paying anyone who tests your products. It'll be safer for you two, and I doubt many will want to freely test your products."

"And what about Hermione?" asked Fred.

"She won't approve," added George.

"Would who approve? Of what?" asked the devil herself. Hermione had snuck up on them. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her piercing gaze focused on Edelweiss. "What were you talking with them about? They've been secretive all summer about whatever they've been up to with the money you won from the Tournament."

"That's for them to decide. Not you—or anyone else," Edelweiss said, her gaze fluttering to a watching Mrs. Weasley. The woman frowned but was soon distracted by her husband. "I gave them gold to help them with their ambitions, Hermione. Maybe I'll get something back. Maybe I won't. Regardless, I think Hogwarts might be more amusing once we return."

"They should focus on their grades," Hermione stated pointedly. "They only got six OWLs combined."

Edelweiss glanced at the Twins. "Did I ever ask you two about grades? Or did I just tell you two to use the gold as you thought best?"

"Thought best," replied George as Fred added, "And to create mischief!"

She snorted softly, reminded of the password to wipe the Marauder's Map clean. "Have you two asked Sirius for help? He is Padfoot."

The Twins exchanged a look before scurrying over to where Sirius stood, chatting with his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, as he sipped from a cup of brandy mixed with leftover tea. Hermione glared at Edelweiss before muttering, "Ron and I thought it prudent to not tell them who the Marauders were."

"Perhaps I should have kept my peace as well, then," Edelweiss muttered, utterly unapologetic. "I thought they were already aware of Moony having taught us two years ago."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. Her bushy hair flumped about like a nest caught by racing gusts. Edelweiss turned aside and scanned the rest scattered about the family room. Most of the cherry and ash furniture was in questionable condition. She doubted Sirius or Mrs. Weasley cared enough to restore them to their prior luster. Across the largest wall, absent of doors or windows, was a sprawling family tree, growing ever rightward. There were several burned spots along the various branches, one of which she'd bet had been Sirius. Most of the burns existed among the recent generations, with only some here and there throughout the centuries going back to whenever the family tree had been started.

She glowered at the sight. Part of her wanted to be furious that Sirius would be removed so. But Edelweiss knew that she would do the same. A Sith Lord threw away worthless pawns, just as the House of Black pruned their family.

"I've been meaning to ask," said Hermione, drawing Edelweiss's gaze. "How was your summer really?"

"Best one with the Dursleys yet, which says little. I rarely saw them for once, which was the best. I kept myself busy, and out of the way. And so they forgot about me." Edelweiss thought of her master and her lessons concerning the Force and the dark side. "I was able to work on my summer homework for once as well, so don't worry about badgering me to complete it."

Hermione huffed, even as her gaze swiveled over to where Ron and Ginny sat, edging closer to Sirius and Tonks. Edelweiss watched the auror speak. Odds were it concerned her auror training. "Ron was hoping you wouldn't have started like usual."

"Best of luck to him, then. He'll have to suffer your nagging alone."

Edelweiss stepped away before Hermione could begin berating her for language. Her mind wandered, stretching and reaching out for the holocron she knew awaited her attention. After all, her goal for the summer was to grow strong in the Force. To learn all Lady Bastila had to teach her so that she might go before Lord Salazar once returned to Hogwarts and be prepared for his lessons.

Hmm…. When should I go seek Lady Bastila out? I will need to retrieve the holocron from my trunk first.

Hermione appeared before her, arms crossed with a glower upon her face. "You'll be helping as well," she threatened. "This is our OWLs year, and I won't allow you to coast through them like Fred and George."

Edelweiss sighed. She shot Hermione her best pleading look. All she received in turn was a frustrated huff and a darkened glare. "Must I? He's the reason I picked Divination instead of Ancient Runes…"

Hermione blinked. Edelweiss tried to not smirk. She recalled that month in their second year when they had been faced with the prospect of which electives they would take. Hermione had been so worried about her choices and the Chamber of Secrets that she failed to properly mind Ron and Edelweiss until it was too late.

"You know, it was funny watching you flutter about the common room, haranguing all of the upper years about which elective to take," Edelweiss said, allowing herself to indulge in some friendly teasing.

Hermione's face reddened. "You should've told me you were interested in Ancient Runes! If I had known, I could've convinced you to sign up for that instead of Divination."

Edelweiss snorted. Her lips then twitched at the thought of those childish, halcyon days. "You're the one who stormed out of Divination. Anyways, Ron and I did warn you that Muggle Studies wasn't worth your time."

"Oh don't remind me," Hermione grumbled. "I'm still disappointed by that class. It could be so much more!"

"And divination?"

"That class is rubbish!" Hermione grumbled, clearly sounding to be trying to keep her anger on the down low. "Maybe if Professor Dumbledore hired a different professor. Everyone knows that woman is a complete fraud. Why he keeps her around…" She sighed and shook her head. "I don't wish to speak ill of Professor Dumbledore…"

"You can leave that to me," said Edelweiss, even as she recalled that day in her third year when Trelawney spoke strangely. The events of that night, and what they had led to had been easy to forget when faced with the reality she had been wrong about her godfather and the crimes he committed. "Could she have…?" Edelweiss murmured.

"Could she have what?" asked Hermione, all but demanding.

Edelweiss blinked. "Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I think Trelawney did make a prophecy. Back in our third year."

Hermione made a disbelieving sound.

And if that was a real prophecy… What she said that day did come to pass then… Yes. Indeed, it was. But—

"Could there have been another prophecy?" Edelweiss finished aloud.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Hermione. She sounded almost afraid, as though presented with an unfathomable danger. "Another prophecy?"

"Only that you're right to believe there's something suspect with Trelawney's employment at Hogwarts. I think she must have given another prophecy in the past. One that required Dumbledore to take her in and protect her the only way he could—through employment." Edelweiss smiled at Hermione's doubtful expression. "She gave one the night we learned the truth about Sirius, predicting that Pettigrew would flee Hogwarts and return to his master—to Voldemort. And that's exactly what happened."

"That couldn't be a prophecy," Hermione grumbled. "She must've guessed right for once."

"No. The more I think on it, the more I'm convinced I'm right. Her voice was different. Guttural, as if she were possessed."

Hermione huffed and went away, muttering bitterly under her breath. Edelweiss wished her friend could accept when she was wrong. It would make it easier for them to get along, especially since Edelweiss suspected her transformation into a Sith Lord might permanently alienate them from each other. And she knew that it would, in part, be caused by how the Force transcended magic. It was the superior, perhaps even the elder power.

Though could Hermione make for a good Sith apprentice? She already possesses the passion to be a Sith Lord…

Edelweiss set the thought aside. There was no point thinking about an apprentice when she was still so weak.

The makeshift party ended shortly afterward. The children—Edelweiss unfortunately included—were put back to the tedious task of cleaning a house that fought back. She bit her tongue, for her frustration from the summer and being forced to clean a magical house by hand piled up like dirty dishes in a sink. She spent most of their time cleaning silently with Ginny Weasley. The youngest Weasley had been an oddity among her family, for she possessed a degree of hero worship no other Weasley had displayed toward Edelweiss. That had melted away over the years, though the Chamber of Secrets incident had initially reinforced that view in a manner Edelweiss wished she could have avoided.

"You ever dream of him?" Ginny asked out of the blue. Edelweiss blinked and glanced at the Weasley girl. "You know," she mumbled, cheeks redder than her hair. "Of Tom."

Edelweiss could not help her sudden, shaky breath. Despite the years, the memory of Tom Riddle lingered. Perhaps it was her appropriation of the Chamber of Secrets that kept the memory of the teenage Voldemort fresh and present in the back of her mind. He had been handsome, and charming, and had enough of the monster she encountered the year before to be a ghastly threat. She had thought nothing of destroying him with a basilisk fang. Yet now she wished she could have stabbed it right into him instead of the diary that empowered whatever crude magics he operated under.

Strangely enough, the diary reminded her of her master's holocron. She did not know what to do with that thought. So she let it settle in the back of her mind as continued to do what was expected of her.

Edelweiss found an opportunity to speak with her master a few days before the middle of August. They all expected Hogwarts letters to soon arrive, and so they had grown lax during breakfast. She pocketed the holocron early in the morning before Ginny and Hermione woke from their slumber. Any attempt to claim a room of her own had fallen through thanks to Mrs. Weasley.

She waited through breakfast before spotting her opportunity. As Mrs. Weasley troubled Ron over him asking for thirds, she snuck from the kitchen and went straight to the nearby steps.

With a hand resting on the holocron, Edelweiss sought out a room she thought would be perfect for maintaining secrecy. Buckbeak, the hippogriff who aided Sirius's flight from Hogwarts, was roomed on the second floor. Given the prideful nature of the aerial species, she knew there would be no cause to worry over whether or not others would enter. Only her godfather and Hermione had gained Buckbeak's confidence, and neither would enter without announcing themselves.

She snuck up to the second floor and went straight to Buckbeak's room. It was cruel to keep him locked up so, but there was nowhere safe to house a beast legally executed yet in the care of a wanted criminal.

"One day," she whispered, thinking of the Code. "One day you will be free." Edelweiss knocked once on Buckbeak's door. She smiled at the lack of a human voice.

Edelweiss opened the door softly and made eye contact with Buckbeak as she crossed the threshold. She closed the door with a foot, standing firm before the hippogriff. Once their gazes were completely locked, she bowed, remembering Hagrid's infamous lesson. Buckbeak returned the bow a moment later.

She straightened with a smile and approached the hippogriff. He accepted her rubbing his beak with a pleased chirruping sound. Edelweiss chuckled at the sound before turning away. She withdrew the holocron from her pocket and found a suitable corner for her lessons. The corner granted her a commanding view of the door. Edelweiss kneeled with her feet tucked beneath her and focused her simmering anger on the holocron. The pyramid's tips twisted and the red projection of her master, Lady Bastila, projected above.

"Apprentice. How long has it been since we last spoke?"

"Over ten days, master, but not two full weeks. I confess part of the delay is due to my failings. But most of that delay rests upon the shoulders of those around me. They will not approve of you and your lessons, should they learn the truth. But it matters not. Soon I will return to Hogwarts, the school that Lord Salazar helped raise. There I will have a place dedicated to my Sith studies."

"Good," crooned Lady Bastila. Edelweiss shivered at her master's tone. "From what you told me of your encounter with those dementors of your world, you have discovered the potential you will have as a Sith Lord, able to wield the full might of the dark side of the Force. While there are particular powers I could teach you or even should teach you, it would be wiser to focus on those powers you have already learned and wielded."

Lady Bastila leaned forward, a sly smile upon her lips.

"Which power do you wish to learn first?"

Edelweiss thought back to her encounter with dementors in Surrey. The lightning she wielded, though powerful enough to drive back the dementors, was too dangerous to openly wield inside Grimmauld Place. The Chamber of Secrets was better suited to learning that power, and that left her with a single choice.

"Teach me how to use the Force to influence the minds of others. I will need that ability to protect the secrets of the Sith, should they ever come under threat."

Lady Bastila nodded. "A wise choice, my apprentice. With time, you may become capable of learning the greatest of my Force powers: battle meditation."

"Battle meditation?" whispered Edelweiss, unable to help her reverent tone. She knew her war had come. Any advantage she could acquire was one to seek with a feverish and possessive intensity.

"As you have discovered on your own, those strong in the Force can use its power to sway the minds of others—especially those weak of will. Battle meditation takes this power to its greatest extent: the ability to manipulate multitudes. An entire army—both armies, if one is that powerful—can be swayed by the might of one who wields the Force with their will alone. Through battle meditation, you can embolden your allies with courage and confidence, and weaken your enemies by filling them with doubt and fear. It is a power that can sway the tide of battle.

"When I was still a Jedi, opposed to Lord Revan, my power of battle meditation was the sole defense against him sweeping across the galaxy and conquering all." She chuckled darkly. "Eventually, I saw the truth of the dark side. I joined him, and so died the Republic of our era."

Edelweiss nodded, trying not to be overwhelmed by the potential of battle meditation. With it, she could guarantee victory by the time she came of age. Perhaps even earlier than that.

Could I kill Voldemort next spring? Edelweiss wondered. It is too likely that we shall cross paths again come May or June.

"Should I begin with my meditations, master? Or is there something else you wish from me?"

Lady Bastila hummed. "How much have you meditated since we last spoke?"

"Not as often as I should, master." Edelweiss glanced down at her clenched hands and scowled. "The others around me do not understand why I meditate, and so they seek to occupy more of my time than wise."

"It is not in the nature of a Sith to allow others to dictate our actions," said Lady Bastila. "Outside of our master-apprentice relationship, you should have no others who can command or control you."

"And what if I must hide who I truly am? Then would it be all right to… comply with a command I would otherwise avoid?"

"Should that come to pass, apprentice, I would advise you to remember the culprit—so they might be punished… accordingly."

Edelweiss nodded. That made sense to her. Until she could be properly named 'Darth Gladiolus', she needed to ensure nobody thought she had changed from the Edelweiss Potter who narrowly survived the Triwizard Tournament. None knew that the girl they had known was all but dead. But one day they would, and they would despair because of it.

"There is another who I worry may try and compel my loyalty," Edelweiss confessed with a bitter grimace. "Albus Dumbledore has long controlled my path. He is the strongest of the chains binding me to my pathetic life before I encountered Lord Salazar and the Sith."

Lady Bastila considered Edelweiss and her words with a thoughtful look. The apprentice waited, for she knew her master would eventually speak.

"This Dumbledore," her master began. "How long has he controlled you? Tell me of all the manipulations he has put you through and how they bind you to his will."

"After my parents were murdered, he ensured I was placed with the Dursleys. I have told you some of what they have done to me. I know little of his involvement before I learned I was a witch, though I believe his choice to send Hagrid, a simpleton unfathomably loyal to him, was a manipulation to ensure I could be drawn along the course that brought me face-to-face with my other great nemesis, Voldemort.

"Following that encounter, Dumbledore insisted I return to the Dursleys by claiming the protections that saved my life against Voldemort could only be restored by returning there." Edelweiss snarled, thinking of how her blood had been used by her enemy. "Much of the rest I have told you, master."

"Some, but not all. Close your eyes and feel the dark side while you tell me all this Dumbledore has inflicted upon you. Focus on your hatred and malice."

Edelweiss did as commanded. She reached inward and banked her hatred and fury with her many, many memories of Albus Dumbledore. She murmured the Sith Code as she focused on the dark side and allowed its power to coalesce around her and through her. Once in the embrace of the dark side, she began:

"In my four years at Hogwarts, Dumbledore has forced me to face threats to the castle in his stead. All of these threats he could have faced on his own, but instead the task was left to me.

"In my first year, he allowed me to face Voldemort, knowing well enough the man sought to steal the Philosopher's Stone so he might regain his proper form. Instead of placing protections that could thwart a dark lord, Dumbledore had the professors put into place protections children only a year into magical education could circumvent. I had to stop Voldemort from seizing the Stone. I risked death to stop him, and Dumbledore allowed it without remorse or regret.

"In my second year, when Lord Salazar's basilisk threatened the castle, he made no effort to stop the attacks. He was there, fifty years ago, when attacks of the same nature occurred within the halls of Hogwarts. He could've done something—anything—to stop the threat. Instead, I had to shoulder the burden. It was I who went into the Chamber of Secrets, into Lord Salazar's secret place, and destroyed the beast. I even destroyed the false pretender who called himself the Heir of Slytherin, for he knew nothing of the Force."

Her master hummed but said nothing about Edelweiss's summary of her early years at Hogwarts.

"The next year, my wrongfully imprisoned godfather escaped his imprisonment. Dumbledore stood back and did enough to only prevent Sirius from being executed in a foul manner. The man could keep his soul, but he could not be allowed to regain his liberty. After all, if Sirius were to regain his liberty, he might take me into his care instead of leaving me alone with the Dursleys. And worst of all, despite his influence over the Ministry and the Minister himself, Dumbledore allowed those foul demons, the ones I turned back with the power of the dark side, to be stationed around the castle. What did it matter to him, if students were traumatized by their presence? Better to play his silly political games than to act properly as the Headmaster of a school filled with children.

"And then last year, during my fourth year at Hogwarts, he stood back as I was forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. He made no effort to determine the true identity of the one who placed me in the tournament. He even failed to notice how one of his old allies was replaced by a foe! How blind can he be to not notice a threat amongst his staff until it was too late? Or did he want me to be bait, to fall for the trap laid out by Voldemort and his supporters once more?

"And in the end, when I told him my blood, the very source of the protections that justified my placement with the Dursleys to begin with, was used to revive Voldemort, he sent me back! His arrogance has blinded him to a danger that we were all fortunate Voldemort was too arrogant or too foolish to not abuse."

"You are a pawn in his game," whispered Lady Bastila. Her tone sounded too consoling for Edelweiss's liking. "Your life matters not to him, regardless of what he may claim. What must you do, apprentice?"

"I must destroy him," she growled. "Obliterate him! I must strike him down with all of my hatred."

"Yes, you must. And once you do, apprentice, you shall be a Sith."

Edelweiss smiled at her master's agreement. They saw eye to eye on this particular matter now. While she had listed off Dumbledore as one of the four chains that bound her down, it had not gone spoken that his death would be critical to her transformation into a Sith Lord. His influence was a poison, one to be excised. And the dark side of the Force would be her panacea.

The Force would free her, just as the Sith Code declared.

"I shall release you to your meditations, apprentice."

And with that, Lady Bastila's image vanished. The holocron deactivated. Edelweiss shifted slightly in her meditative posture and returned to her effort. Where she had been meditating to focus her thoughts and fury, she now only sought the untamed power at the heart of the dark side of the Force.

She remained like that for a time, her mind focused entirely on the task of meditation. And then she felt another presence in the room. Her eyes opened. Edelweiss paused, for she found Kreacher standing before her. Buckbeak marched about the far side of the room agitated, yet not enough to lash out or release cries of protest.

"Mistress calls?" croaked Kreacher.

"I did not mean to summon you," said Edelweiss. She fought a smile at being called mistress. "Explain how I did, so I won't do so on accident again."

Kreacher wrung his floppy ears, spindly hands wrapped with strings of linen. His ghoulish face shivered as he shook his head. She waited several seconds before reaching out with the Force, cautious of the elfish magics he possessed. She still remembered what Dobby had done before her second year. An older elf should be more dangerous, just as an older mage was more dangerous than a younger one.

The elf froze the moment she touched him with the Force. She sensed an influence upon him akin to the dark side. That, she suspected, was the influence of the House of Black. Could the dark side and dark magic have similarities? That would explain the influence she felt within Kreacher—and explained why he came to her while meditating. He felt her power and thought her proper; the dark side's power matched the power he had long served, and he wanted another to serve.

"I understand," whispered Edelweiss. "You felt my power, so you came to me. You did the same for your previous mistress."

"Yes," moaned the house elf, as if giving away his loyalty was the last thing he wanted. "Oh, how my mistress would be horrified her terrible son and the blood-traitor filth."

"Even me?"

Kreacher froze. Edelweiss restrained herself. Even with the dark side beckoning for her to influence the house elf, she held back. She wanted Kreacher to choose her of his own volition. Let her power in the dark side be enough to overcome his loyalties to the dead.

"You… You be…" mumbled Kreacher, wringing his hands. After a few seconds, he vanished with a loud crack. Buckbeak flailed back, squalling and squawking. Edelweiss sighed, for now her hiding place would be revealed to any listening for Buckbeak.

Edelweiss stewed in frustration as she tried to calm the hippogriff. It worked to some degree, yet she could still feel Buckbeak's distress. Her jaw clenched. She had to breathe in and out several times to not let her anger seep through and influence the majestic creature before her. It was a great shame that he was locked within this room instead of being free, as he deserved.

The door was suddenly flung open, maybe three minutes after Kreacher popped away. Sirius stepped into the room, dark hair plastered to his forehead and grey eyes blown wide. He bowed to Buckbeak the moment their gazes locked. Once the hippogriff approved Sirius's entrance, he turned his attention to her.

"Edie. There you are," Sirius said, his brows furrowed yet relief flowing from him. "We've been looking all over for you." He paused and glanced around. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to find a quiet place to meditate in peace away from the others." Edelweiss sighed and rose to her feet. It appeared her time of sanctuary and solitude was over this day. "Mrs. Weasley is too fixated on cleaning up this house to allow me any time during the day, and then my friends sap the rest of my hours."

"They're going to be worse," said Sirius. "Your disappearance has the house in an uproar. Were it not for Dumbledore, we would be scouring London for you."

She scowled at the mention of Dumbledore. "Was he here? Can he track me?"

"He has influence over the house's wards, being the Secret Keeper. If you had left, he would have known. Because you didn't—"

"Is. He. Still. Here?"

Her godfather frowned. "He was preparing to leave when we heard Buckbeak from downstairs. I came alone, thinking Kreacher was harassing Buckbeak again."

"Ah. That makes sense." She glanced away. "I accidentally summoned him," confessed Edelweiss. "It was an… enlightening experience."

"He responds to your calls?"

She shot Sirius a sly look. "Don't tell me you're angry he responds more readily to me than to you."

Sirius chuckled slightly. "It's not that. He does come when I call, but he's slow and doesn't follow my commands as I'd like unless I make my orders redundant."

"Yet you're the head of this household. Shouldn't he respond to your summons and commands as you desire?"

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his lanky black hair. "I never liked Kreacher growing up. My mother was a cruel woman, and Kreacher became cruel through her. My younger brother, Regulus, had her favor. And so Kreacher favored her." When Edelweiss frowned, her godfather offered her a light smile. "I was the white sheep of the family."

It took Edelweiss a few seconds to recognize the pun. She sighed and shook her head. Her godfather burst out laughing, which startled Buckbeak. She moved to calm the hippogriff, running a hand over his beak. Then and only then did she join Sirius by the door.

"We should let everyone know I haven't been abducted," she said, before following Sirius downstairs. Edelweiss knew for the rest of the summer she would need to step lightly if she wanted to avoid causing too much trouble. A smirk crossed her face. She could do that, and achieve whatever she wished, all the while leaving the rest unaware of who she truly was and of her true intentions.