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I’ve got a fire for a heart (I’m not scared of the dark)

Chapter Text

“‘Soka? ‘Soka!”

Dark blue eyes shot open. There were so many memories in her head, half-formed and spinning, that she couldn’t quite figure them out. There were so many - too many - and she was thankful to be laying down, since she surely would have collapsed otherwise.

She remembered the peaceful eddies of the Force which swirled her away when she went to sleep that night in the New Jedi Temple, watching a new system for the Jedi Order arise that was better than the old, finally able to rest after her long years of fighting.

It was surprising, then, that she could open her eyes again.

Everything was jumbled.

Was she human, or togruta?

Alive, or dead?

Witch, or Force-user?

“‘Soka, are you alright?”

She looked up at Hermione’s concerned face, and fell back on years of undercover missions for the Jedi Council, Anakin, and the Rebels (and how her heart ached at the thought of them!). She pulled on the persona of Ahsoka Potter {pronounced Ahs-ok-a, not Ah-so-ka, as it had been in her previous life}, took back her glasses (she didn’t really need them, not any more, but she altered the light around her eyes to make them ineffective) with a rasped,

“Thank you,” and looked up to see the strange man who had been in the corner of the carriage - Professor R. J. Lupin, if his trunk was to be believed - passing her something brown.

“Here, eat this, it’ll help.”

She blinked, but sensed no ill intentions, and so took it, hesitantly, her pale blonde - almost white - hair swaying loose around her head.

“It’s alright, it’s chocolate.”

Privately, she wondered how chocolate could possibly be of any help in her current situation, but decided not to press the issue.

She sat up, carefully, and, with as much of a vocal waver as would suit the part of her that was still ‘Soka Potter, asked,

“What- What was that thing?” She figured that she needed as much information as she could possibly get. Knowledge was always a good place to start.

“That was a dementor. One of the guards of Azakaban.” She could sense the truth in his words, but wondered what kind of kriffing idiot would employ one of those as a prison guard?

[Unless they were a Sith. She wouldn’t put anything past a Sith.]

“It’s gone now,” he told her, and she suppressed a sigh of relief. “It was searching the train for Sirius Black.”

She blinked, and then remembered. Right. The murderous, raving lunatic who was trying to kill her.

Because of course he was. Why couldn’t she have a normal life, for once?

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he finished, “I’m going to have a word with the driver.”

The man stood and walked out, but not before reminding her, “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

He then closed the door and walked off, leaving the three alone.

She bit into the chocolate absently, her gaze distant, as she tried to figure out the next chance she had to meditate. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be until she was back in her room that night; she’d just have to make herself last until then.

The three friends sat in companionable, if tense, silence, as the train raced the storm to their school.


Severus Snape studied Potter as she walked into the Great Hall with her sycophantic ‘friends’. Something seemed... off about her. She seemed far more sure of herself, walking straighter, but also more defensively - like a warrior.

Severus wondered what could cause such a change.

She also looked more calm and collected - speaking less, but with more wisdom to the words that she did say. It was like she had become a completely different person over the course of the holidays.

But that wasn’t possible. Her relatives had, without a semblance of a doubt, spoilt her rotten, just like every year - just like her father. Something else was going on.

He met Dumbledore’s eyes, and silently requested to see what was going on in Potter’s mind. The Headmaster nodded, giving his consent.

Severus turned around and met the girl’s eyes, expecting the usual lack of resistance.

To his surprise, he was met with a wall of unimaginable pain, emotional and physical; for a horrifying moment, he believed that he was going to die of a heart attack from the agony. He was then shoved out, and stared in shock at the girl, who glared at him, a clear message in her eyes: don’t try that again.

He looked back to Dumbledore, sending him a memory of what had just occurred.

The man’s grandfatherly demeanour faltered for a half-second, before Severus had a message pressed into his mind - they would discuss this in the Headmaster’s office after the feast.


She scowled as she felt Snape push into her mind, refuting him with the shielding she had built up during the Clone Wars, her time as an Exile, and her years as Fulcrum. So that was how Dumbledore knew so much about her.

She listened to the Headmaster explain the Dementor guards, and scowled. While not as powerful as a Sith, she placed Dumbledore’s maliputiveness and selfishness right up there with Sidious’. With an outsider perspective, she could see that the Headmaster had manipulated her, his ‘Chosen One’, in the same way that Sidious had manipulated Anakin, the Jedi’s ‘Chosen One’.

She scowled and dug into her food, steadfastly ignoring Malfoy’s childish taunts.

She was so many things - Ahsoka Tano, ‘Soka Potter, Padawan, Jedi Exile, Fulcrum, Friend, Sister... Lover - but one thing she was not was easily bated.


Unfortunately, Albus was not able to discern what had happened to his young saviour - at least, not anything more than ‘she has mental defences now’, which was utterly useless.

Eventually, he decided to keep an eye out for something more concrete.


That evening, after the feast, around ten o’clock, she went straight back to her bed, closing the curtains quickly before settling into a meditative stance. She then sorted through her memories.

Eventually, she managed to sort through all the parts of her - Ahsoka Tano, ‘Soka Potter, Padawan, Exile, Fulcrum, Witch, Friend, Sister, Lover - and get her memories in order. She was all of those things, and all of them were her.


But there was a Dark presence in her scar - one that reminded her of the Inquisitors or Ventress in strength, but not as Dark as Dooku or Vader had been. She reached into the Force and pulled it out.

It struggled, causing her physical pain, and only through years of dealing with battle wounds did she manage not to scream. But, eventually, she managed it, sending it falling out of the window, and dissolving into nothingness before it hit the ground.

She then reached out into the Force, pulling her lightsabers towards her.

Her first lightsaber pair had been confiscated by the Council, and destroyed during Operation Knightfall. They were useless to her.

Her second lightsaber pair had been lost to the elements when she had faked her death on Mandalore. And they had never truly fit her; sure, they liked her and worked for her, but Anakin had made them - they had never truly been hers . She couldn’t use them on a permanent basis.

Her third, and last, lightsaber pair, were probably still intact in her vacuum-sealed grave, and she knew they would listen to her. So she called them toward her.

She reached out with the Force, further than she’d even done before, and pulled, sending the lightsabers racing toward her, being carefully guided around planets and stars.

After nine hours of intensive meditation, eight hours of which was made up of pulling her lightsabers toward her, she felt them finally come to a stop outside her bedroom window.

She opened her eyes, careful to keep her lightsabers afloat, and looked at the time, wiping the blood that had leaked from her scar with her hand as she did so.


She’d meditated through the night.

Slightly stunned, but no less focused for it, she snuck over to the window and grabbed her lightsabers, after opening them a crack.

She smiled as she felt the familiar, curved hilts in her hands.

But she knew that the other girls would soon wake, so she hurried to use the bathroom, cleaning the blood properly off of her face and her hands, and got dressed quickly, so that they wouldn’t notice the hidden hilts attached to the inside of her skirt.

[But, however useful hair was for hiding weapons and lockpicks, it was still going to take a lot of getting used to. She‘d take her montrals and lekku - which were, simultaneously, better to hear through, and required less effort to keep tidy - any day.

She added ‘Learn self-transfiguration’ onto her to-do list.]

Chapter Text

Ahsoka had gone to Professor McGonagall and requested a change in schedule - dropping Divination, and adding Runes and Arithmacy, since she already knew how to Flow-Walk, and how visions worked, but didn’t know anything about Runes or Arithmacy, and they sounded interesting. She’d never bothered to take Muggle Studies, since she lived in the Muggle world, and therefore didn’t need to learn about it.

McGonagall seemed surprised, but let the girl change - much to the annoyance of Ron, and the delight of Hermione.


Ahsoka found herself enjoying Lupin’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class, despite not liking the overtly generalised name. Despite being light and doing their best, the Jedi had, historically, done a lot of harm as well as good.

Case in point - her expulsion during her trial, and Galidraan.

But, even though she could probably have taken him out within a few seconds if she truly wanted to, she found herself enjoying his classes.

His disappearance around the full moon every month, however, was a ridiculously big giveaway. So maybe not entirely smart.

And, like the rest of the teachers, ridiculously dependent on the Headmaster.


Ahsoka walked down the corridor on the seventh floor, searching for the strange Force-anomaly she had sensed there.

She found it by the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, in the form of a room that appeared when someone needed it.

The no-longer-Jedi smiled, and thought of a training salle, complete with training droids, and the books that had been stored in the Room over the years.

Then, she got to work.


Hermione entered Professor Lupin’s class, and was surprised to find the classroom bare - aside from a shaking closet. When questioned, she and Dean identified it as a boggart - a shape-shifting creature that transformed into a person’s worst fear.

Hermione shivered, wondering what hers would be.

She copied the Professor when he asked them to recite the boggart-repelling spell - ridikulus.

She didn’t know where Lupin was going with his questioning of Neville - at least, not at first - but, when the boggart came out and the boy cast the spell, turning the Snape-shaped boggart into a version of Snape in his grandmother’s clothes, she understood - and had to laugh, which repelled the boggart.

Now everything made sense.

Hermione joined the line, and watched Ron’s boggart turn into a giant spider. She shivered in disgust.

After a few moments of terrified shaking, he cried,

Ridikulus !” And the spider suddenly had roller skates. She couldn’t help but laugh.

After several more people took their turn, each with incredibly amusing results, ‘Soka finally took her turn.

Everyone shoved for space to watch, wanting to know what the Girl-Who-Lived most feared. Hermione huffed. Tactless idiots, the lot of them, she thought, annoyed.

‘Soka stepped forward, and the boggart coalesced into... nothing. It had no physical form. When people started to whisper that she feared nothing, the room was filled with a strange sound - like someone was breathing heavily into a microphone, with the speaker close to their mouth, so that you could hear both their normal breathing and the mechanical replication with equal clarity.

“Ahsoka,” the voice said. The speaking voice was warm, and kind - like a father, or a lover, or an older brother. But the voice layered atop it was robotic, harsh, and terrifying. But it was the contrast between the two that was the most horrible thing about it.

It also pronounced her name as ‘Ah-so-ka’, instead of ‘Ahs-ok-a’, which was odd.

Ahsoka, ” the voice came again, and Professor Lupin stepped in front of the girl, who, by this point, was shaking, tears streaming from her eyes. The boggart turned into the full moon (Hermione wondered why that was. A traumatic past event? An irrational phobia? But it wasn’t her place to ask, so she let it go), and Lupin quickly turned it into a white balloon, before locking it into a cupboard.

By the time Lupin had dismissed the class, ‘Soka had already left the room.


Everyone wanted to know about ‘Soka’s strange boggart, but Ron knew better than to question. She was an incredibly private person when it came to that sort of thing.

Eventually, people let it go, and moved on. But nobody forgot - they just compiled it into ‘the mystery of Ahsoka Potter’.


Ahsoka frowned as Hermione disappeared at the end of their Ancient Runes class, only to reappear with Ron, walking down the Divination staircase. She also noticed the strange hourglass necklace Hermione was wearing, and resolved to figure out what it was.

But she put it out of her mind, at least temporarily, as they walked down to Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid - another good man too dependant on Dumbledore for his own good.

The other two were arguing over the likelihood that Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, had killed Ron’s rat, Scabbers. Ahsoka rolled her eyes.


She also found that the walk from the castle to Hagrid’s hut, which would usually have been tiring for her, was remarkably easy. Then she realised that it was a result of her new training regimen - every morning, before dawn, she had taken to training herself in the strange Room, using the Jedi exercises, getting her body used to the katas, improving her endurance, and strengthening the muscles she needed to properly perform her jar’kai - and smiled inwardly, with a glee that would have gotten her a stern there is no emotion, there is peace lecture from Obi-Wan.


Ahsoka huffed in annoyance as no one stepped forward to greet the Hippogriff. Bunch of cowards, the lot of them.

She stepped forward, slowly, and bowed, sending calming and peaceful-intention-indicating waves through the Force.

Buckbeak bowed back, and she walked forward to greet him, stroking his feathers with a smile on her face.

Then, Hagrid was lifting her onto him; a surprise, for sure, but a welcome one, as she speared over the lake, letting out a yell of joy.

When they got back, she slid carefully off the Hippogriff’s back.

She sensed Malfoy’s annoyance and jealousy a split second before he strode forward, his entire posture aggressive.

“You’re not really so dangerous, are you, you big ugly brute?!”

Ahsoka fought back a facepalm at his idiotic words.

Buckbeak, however, had visibly taken offence, and reared up on his hind legs, preparing to slash down.

She didn’t even think - she just acted. She used the Force to push speed into her legs as she leapt forward, sweeping Malfoy up off his feet with Force-enhanced strength, bridal-style, and launched into an Ataru flip that left the both of them collapsed on the floor a few meters away from the Hippogriff; uninjured, aside from what they might have damaged in their kriffed-up landing - Malfoy’s weight had thrown Ahsoka‘s landing off by enough that they were laying next to each other on the floor, rather than in a crouch.

Everyone blinked in shock as Ahsoka scrambled rapidly away from Malfoy, so as not to leave them in their previously awkward position.

Malfoy blinked in the shocked realisation that his nemesis had saved his life. He didn’t really know what to do with that.

Neither did anyone else, so Hagrid simply restrained Buckbeak, and dismissed the oddly quiet class.

Chapter Text

Severus blinked when he realised that Potter had made no complaint about not being allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Her new mental defences, her changed presence, her odd boggart (and if he wasn’t salivating over how to use that against her!), saving Draco, and now this? Something really was wrong with Potter.

He resolved to find out what it was.

When he tracked her down, he found her looking up and down the seventh-floor corridor, like she was making sure that she was alone. Then, when she was satisfied with this, she paced three times before the portrait of Barnabras the Barmy. To his shock, the wall slid open. He quickly slid through behind her, and watched her shed her school robe for what she was wearing underneath.

Severus blinked.

She was wearing elbow-length, fingerless gloves, with strange, blue-painted-white plates of armour, covering the exterior of her forearms and the backs of her hands. She also had a dark blue, high-collared, sleeveless, short-skirted dress on, with a belt that was attached to two thin, curved pieces of the same type of armour, each of which extended down to mid-thigh on either side of her hips, as well as three pieces covering the back of the skirt. Beneath it, she wore a pair of black leggings and similarly armoured boots, with elasticated grey fabric at the joins allowing her flexibility. She was also wearing a grey fabric headband, which held back any loose strands that should have been in her high ponytail. Two round cylinders - Severus didn’t know what they were, but that just made him more worried - were attached to the armour at the sides of her waist, and looked to be carefully placed so she could access them easily.

The outfit was nothing like he had expected from the girl, and it made him slightly worried.

Potter walked over to the large bookcase and pulled out a book that appeared to be heavily annotated in her handwriting.

Severus frowned at the vandalism of school property, but decided not to call her out on it until he knew what she was doing in here.

“Alright, so, if I’m right, then this should work...” he watched her put the book down and cast a spell with her wand. He had barely recognised the fact that it was the spell designed to turn someone into an animagus before she was stumbling back, raising a hand to her face before looking at it properly, touching her face and head, before cheering loudly.

It took Severus a few moments to figure out what she was so happy about. Her animagus form was like nothing he’d ever seen before - it was humanoid, with dark tan skin, white markings on her face to replace her eyebrows, and a strange, blue-and-white thing replacing her hair and ears - it was in three parts, one on each side and one at the back, and each dangled down to just below her shoulder blades. He really didn’t know what to make of it.

Potter seemed pleased, though, which just served to further confuse him.

He watched her transform back, and blinked in surprise at the blue - which started off pale, but gradually got darker the further down it was - colouring her hair from the shoulders down. He didn’t particularly like the colour, but she’d just laughed it off, so he ignored it.

Potter then walked over to a desk in the corner of the room and wrote down something. It was only as she was sealing it up to send off that Severus realised that it was an animagus registration form.

Well, at least she was being sensible about it.

He then watched her cast a tempus and nod, before pulling her school cloak on and heading back out.

He had planned to sneak out after her, but, just as she reached the door, she turned around, met his eyes, and winked, before leaving.

He’d never been caught while spying on someone before.

Severus was seething all the way back to his quarters.


Ahsoka laughed quietly to herself as she ascended the stairs. Snape might have been a spy for quite a bit of his adult life - and a Slytherin, to boot - but Ahsoka had been trained in espionage ever since she was a youngling, and had gotten plenty of practice at it over the years, and under far greater pressure than Snape had ever been.

She’d known that he’d been trailing her since the moment he’d first spotted her.

But, when she got to Gryffindor Tower, she found a large crowd outside the entrance portrait - which had been slashed into pieces.

She blinked, surprised by the level of savagery in the usually-spineless magical world.

And then she found out who it had been.

Sirius Black, trying to find her. Trying to kill her.

Because of course it was.

They had been taken to sleep in the Great Hall, with the prefects and a few teachers as guards. Ahsoka didn’t trust them to protect her.

They only person she had ever truly felt that with was Anakin.

So she lay, totally still, on the mattresses that had been lain on the floor for them - pretending to sleep, while, in truth, meditating, and keeping an eye on whoever was around her.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done so - it had been very useful after Order 66.

It was a very long night.


It wasn’t until the next day that anyone noticed Ahsoka’s change in hair colour. It resulted in a lot of screaming from Hermione, cheering from the Weasleys, and stern looks from the teachers, but, eventually, everyone accepted that it was a mispronounced spell and let it alone.


The following day, Severus tried to follow Potter into that room again, but was unable to follow her, even after trying the ‘pace past the picture three times’ trick that the brat had used.

Scowling, he stalked away, his cloak swishing behind him.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka pulled Hermione over, quietly, and asked why she had a Time Travel device. Such things were dangerous - she knew that better than anyone (she thought, shakily, of the World Between Worlds). What she learned made her much happier about the situation.

It was being used to let her attend more classes, and created a closed time loop. All she had to do was avoid her younger self, and everything would be fine.


A few weeks later, Ahsoka was surprised to see Snape walk in to teach her DADA class, and not Lupin. But then she realised that the full moon had been the night before, and, suddenly, things made a lot more sense.

Snape proceeded to, very unsubtly, discuss lycanthropy and animagi - with a dirty look toward the former Jedi as he discussed the latter.

Ahsoka sighed.

Honestly, magicals. No sense of discretion, or tact, or even basic, not-so-common-anymore sense.


About a month later, Ahsoka was - as per usual - the seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She rose to the top of the stormy pitch as soon as possible and reached out with the Force.

Her beaters were whacking a bludger toward her opposition, Cedric, who was dodging. Alicia was scoring for their team - to the annoyance of the Slytherin keeper. And the snitch... was hovering a few feet above her... to the left... there!

She reached out her hand and grabbed it, preparing to descend far enough to be seen with the snitch.

And then she sensed them.


Dementors, closing in on her, since she was so far from the rest of the crowd.

Scowling, Ahsoka slid the snitch into a secure storage pouch in her belt, then shifted into her togruta form, standing up on her broom - using the catlike balance of the this form to her advantage - pulling off her cumbersome Quidditch raincoat and grabbing her ‘sabers, entering the opening stance of jar’kai.

She sliced through the nearest dementor, and it shattered into pieces, leaving tiny orbs of light to float away.

Briefly wondering what they were, she did the same to every dementor which came near.

Shoto slashing up... primary blocking down and right... duck beneath and slice up...

When she’d finished, with no more dementors approaching her, she shifted back into her human form, re-attatched the lightsabers to her belt and pulled her cloak back on, grabbing the snitch from it’s pouch and flying down quickly to wave it at the referee, so that they might be known that Gryffindor had won.

Ahsoka smiled happily as she joined her cheering teammates.


Later that day, Ahsoka approached Lupin. She knew, now, that she could fight dementors, but people would ask questions if she were to pull out her lightsabers in front of others. Surely there had to be at least one spell that could counter them?

So she asked him about it.

He told her about the patronus charm and how it worked, and agreed to teach her once he’d gotten over his ‘illness’. A few quick mental calculations later, and she realised that it had recently been the full moon, so she accepted his decision, smiling.


Ahsoka has mastered the patronus charm with remarkable ease (a strange type of owl, he’d assumed, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly which type), leaving Remus rushing to question what memories she was pulling on.  She had replied with a slightly sad smile, and said,

“His name was Anakin.”

Remus had searched through the school databases later on, but hadn’t found a single person in it named ‘Anakin’.

He resolved to ask Dumbledore about it later.


That night, he caught a certain pair of red-haired twins sneaking around the school with a very familiar map. He smiled as he activated it, only to freeze.

Peter Pettigrew was listed on the map as in the same corridor as him.

But the hallway was empty, and Peter was dead.

Frowning, Remus returned to his office. This required more investigation.

That information also made him forget all about what he had been planning to ask Dumbledore about regarding Ahsoka.


The following day, Sirius Black, in dog form, was attempting to track the scent of the rat form of his once-friend, and the man who had caused the deaths of Lily and James, Peter Pettigrew, when he pulled up short at the sound of two people talking.

He peered around the corner, and then pulled back. It was his goddaughter, Ahsoka (and why was her hair blue?), talking to one of the ghosts - though it wasn’t a ghost Sirius had seen before.

It was a young man, with shoulder-length, pale brown / dirty blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and a kind smile. He was very handsome, and - even though he was a ghost - Sirius scowled, creeping forward to listen in on their conversation.

“Look, Snips-“ Snips? “-I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, alright? For- For everything.”

Sirius wondered what the man was apologising for. If he’d hurt his goddaughter, he’d find some way to inflict torture upon the ghost... somehow.

He watched Ahsoka put her hand on the edge of the ghost’s arm - or where it would be, were the man fully corporeal - and ask him,

“What are you going on about, Skyguy?” Skyguy? “ I failed you .”

The escaped convict shook his head in tandem with the strange man.

At least they shared at least one opinion.

“You could never fail me, Snips. Never .”

“But I left ! I left you when you needed me the most!” Sirius blinked, confused. He had absolutely zero clue as to what was going on.

The man shook his head, placing his ghostly hands on her shoulders with an annoyed expression.

“Get this through you head right now, Snips. My choices, my mistakes, were mine, and mine alone. Besides, the Order-“ Sirius blinked, wondering what ‘Order’ the man was referring to. He’d certainly ever seen the blonde in the Order of the Phoenix, “-failed you first. You had every right to walk away.” The man leaned back, a small smile on his face. “And look at you now, Fulcrum .” Fulcrum? What the f*ck was Fulcrum? Some kind of title? A nickname? He had officially lost it.

He was pleased, however, when Ahsoka rewarded the man with a smile.

“Only thanks to your training.” But training in what? Sirius thought, as he watched Ahsoka clasp her hands to her chest and bow to the ghost. “Thank you, Master.”

The man repeated the gesture, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, my Padawan.”

Sirius had no time to wonder what ‘Padawan’ meant, because the ghost disappeared not a second later, and Ahsoka walked toward the school with a little more bounce to her step.

Sirius decided, right in that moment, that the ghostly man was okay in his book.

Anyone who could make his Prongslette smile like that was.

Chapter Text

Hermione lagged far behind as she ran after ‘Soka. How had a peaceful afternoon exploring the grounds turned into this? And why were Ron and Scabbers being dragged beneath the Whomping Willow by a stray dog (Grim?), of all things?

And how was ‘Soka able to dodge all the swinging tree branches?

Hermione cursed how unfit she was, resolved to take her parents up on their offer of a gym membership, and dodged another branch.

After a few minutes, they managed to get down to the tunnel - which was dank, and smelled like rot.

“Where d’you suppose this goes?” Hermione wondered aloud.

“I have a hunch,” ‘Soka replied. “I just hope I’m wrong.”

Silently, the two girls begun to follow the tunnel - wherever it might lead.


They came upon a trapdoor at the end of the tunnel and climbed out of it, looking around the delapidated wooden structure they were enclosed in.

“We’re in the Shrieking Shack,” Hermione hissed, terrified, “aren’t we?”

‘Soka didn’t reply directly - she just whispered,

“Come on.”

Hermione followed her up the creaking stairs of the Shack, listening carefully for any noise that wasn’t their own feet causing the floorboards to creak - there was a faint, pained voice that sounded like Ron.

They came into a room with blood staining the floor, and Hermione ran forward with a concerned hiss of,

“Ron! Ron, are you alright?”

Beside her, ‘Soka questioned,

“The dog, where is it?”

Speaking almost too fast to understand, Ron pointed his finger back along the trail of blood they’d walked over.

“‘Soka, run, it’s a trap, he’s the dog - he’s an animagus-“

Hermione’s eyes widened as she followed the bloody paw prints with her eyes until...

Stood behind the open doorframe was the bedraggled - and frankly terrifying - form of Sirius Black, recognisable from his picture in the Daily Prophet.

Acting on instinct, Hermione stepped between ‘Soka and the murderer.

“If you want to kill ‘Soka you’ll have to kill us, too!”

The man stepped forward, a sardonic smile on his face.

“Only one will die tonight.” He proclaimed.

For a moment, the room stood silent.

Hermione noticed ‘Soka’s eyes narrow.

Before she could call her friend out on it, the door slammed open, sending the murderer to the floor. Out from behind it stepped...

Professor Lupin! Good, they weren’t going to die!

The Professor levelled his wand at the murderer.

“Well, well, Sirius. Looking rather ragged, aren’t we?” Hermione narrowed her eyes to match ‘Soka’s. So... they knew each other?

“Finally, the flesh reflects the madness.”

“Well, you’d know all about madness, wouldn’t you, Remus?”

Hermione could only gape in shock as the Professor pulled the Murderer to his feet and embraced him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed ‘Soka slide her foot back, wand raised defensively, the other hand reaching for something under her robe, like she was preparing to be attacked.

Hermione followed suit, raising her wand at the pair, but not firing a spell.


They had a jumbled conversation, too quiet for Hermione to hear. She was only startled out of her stupor when Black said,

“Let’s kill-“

Before he could say anything else, Hermione burst.

“No!” She shrieked at the Murderer, before turning to her Professor. “I trusted you! And all this time, you’ve been his friend !”

She spun around, hissing at her friend ,

“‘Soka, he’s a werewolf! That’s why he’s been missing classes!”

Lupin stepped forward, and Hermione fought down the instinctive urge to step back.

“How long have you known?” He asked her.

“Since Professor Snape set the essay.” She replied, fighting to keep her tone steady.

“Well, well, well, Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age I’ve ever met-“

“Oh, enough talk, Remus! Let’s kill ‘im!” Hermione spotted ‘Soka’s widened eyes, and wondered what she was thinking, but, before she could say anything, her attention was drawn back into the men’s conversation.


“I’ve done enough waiting! Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!”

For a few long moments, the room was silent.

Hermione wondered if the Professor would see reason.

“Very well,” Lupin acquiesced, handing the Murderer his wand. “Kill ‘im.”

So much for that hope.

“But wait one more minute.” She blinked, confused. “Ahsoka has the right to know why .”

“We know why!” Ron butted in, and Hermione turned to stare at him. Her confusion was mirrored on ‘Soka’s face, but the other girl remained facing the two men.

“You betrayed ‘Soka’s parents! You’re the reason they’re dead!”

Hermione saw ‘Soka’s eyes widen, and sadness and grief filled her expression. She could empathise - her friend had just been informed that the man in front of her was responsible for the deaths of the two people who she should not have had to loose for many more long years.

“No, Ronald, he did not betray the Potters. Somebody did, but it was somebody who, up until quite recently, I believed to be dead.”

“Who was it, then?” Hermione heard the girl in question ask, voice strong but quiet.

“Peter Pettigrew!” Black cried, voice half-grieving and half-gleeful.

“And ‘e’s in this room! Right now,” The man continued, voice far to exited for the subject matter. “Come out, come out, Peter! Come out, come out, and play!”

It was then that Professor Snape burst into the room with an,

Expeliarmus !” Knocking Lupin’s wand from Black’s hand.

“Vengeance is sweet.” The man hissed, leaving Hermione even more confused. Did they know each other, too?

“Oh, how I had hoped I’d be the one to catch you,” Snape informed the room.

“Severus-“ Lupin tried to interject, only to be silenced as the Potions Professor turned his wand on the werewolf.

“I told Dumbledore you were sneaking an old friend into the Castle, and here’s the proof!”

“Well done, Snape.” Black stepped from behind Lupin, speaking with far more clarity and poise than he had earlier.

“Once again, you put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and, as usual, you come to the wrong conclusion.”

Hermione sighed as her head spun. She had absolutely zero clue as to what was going on, except that Black hadn’t killed ‘Soka yet, and was actually professing innocence.

The world had gone to a very strange and nonsensical place in the last few minutes.

“Now if you will excuse us, Remus and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

Professor Snape jabbed his wand into Black’s neck.

“Give me a reason,” he hissed. “I beg you.”

What followed was what could only be described as a b*tch-fest between the three men, full of hissed insults and squabbling that Hermione could not understand. ‘Soka’s eyes were wide with surprise, but Hermione didn’t know what she’d noticed, as so just stood there, next to Ron, feeling utterly baffled.

Eventually, Snape managed to cow Black into beginning to leave, before he beckoned the teens to go first.

Hermione didn’t quite know what was going on, but she wasn’t going to go against a teacher. However, ‘Soka stepped in front of her, wand pointed at Black, who flinched back.


Hermione gaped as Snape was sent crashing into the rotted bed in the corner of the room, which collapsed atop him.

The spell had come from ‘Soka’s wand.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka knew what it was like to be falsely accused of a crime the accused didn’t commit. Black had acted in a similar way to how she would have, had she been convicted to prison after the Temple bombing. Plus, she didn’t know what evidence the magicals were working on, and didn’t trust them to use anything other than circumstantial evidence, like that of her own case, instead of the truth. And Snape was reminding her far to much of Tarkin (the traitorous, self-serving hut’uun {Mando’a for coward, a grave insult}) for comfort.

So she’d acted.

“‘Soka, what d’you just do!” Ron shrieked.

What I believed to be right , she thought, but did not reply. She needed to get answers.

“‘Soka, you attacked a teacher!” She heard Hermione screech, and suppressed a smile. You could always count on Hermione to have consistent priorities.

“Who was Peter Pettigrew?” She asked, pushing a wave of Force-compulsion into her words.

“He went to school with us,” Lupin replied, his Force-signature exuding a desperate let her believe us .

“We thought he was our friend .”

“No, Pettigrew’s dead!” Ron cut in. “ He-“ here, Ron pointed at Black, “-killed him.”

Maybe it was borne of her experiences, but Ahsoka wanted to scream show me proof, Ron!

She managed to contain herself admirably, though.

“No, I thought so too, until I saw him on a map of the school that Ahsoka’s father made when we were children.”

Ahsoka blinked, shocked, before nearly growling under her breath.

Another way that Dumbledore tried to manipulate her.

“The map could’ve been lying!” Ron pressed.

“The map never lies ,” Black proclaimed loudly. “Pettigrew is alive. And he’s right over there.” He directed a finger at...

Ron gaped.

“Me?!” He shrieked. “You’re mental!” Black tutted.

“Not you.” He hissed, sounding annoyed. “Your rat .”

Ron looked incredibly annoyed.

“Scabbers’ been in my family for-“

“Twelve years!” Black cut in, and, from Ron’s surprised Force-signature, he was right. Ahsoka decided that the evidence was stacking up in Black’s favour.

“Curiously long life for a common garden rat!” Ahsoka noticed Hermione’s mental affirmation, and added it to her own lost of evidence. Twelve years ago was when her parents - in this life, at least - had died. It did fit.

“He’s missing a toe, isn’t he?”

Ahsoka held in a gasp at the memory of the newspaper article she had read detailing Black’s incarceration.

All that had been left of Pettigrew was a finger.

“So what?!” Ron challenged.

Ahsoka withheld and eye roll at Ron’s stubborn stupidity rearing it’s ugly head.

“All that was left of Pettigrew was his-“

“Finger!” Black finished for her, seeming pleased that she, at least, seemed to be following his explanation.

“He cut off his finger, then blew up the street to make everyone think he was dead!”

Ahsoka fought back an exasperated groan. That excuse would never have flown with the Jedi.

“Prove it,” she ordered, because, no matter what seemed most plausible, she would never accept something without evidence. “Prove that he’s an animagus.”

Black grinned ferally and cast the spell, sending an old and balding man to the floor of the room.

Ahsoka wrinkled her nose in disgust, and moved to block the door.

Ron just stared in shock and horror.

“Remus? Sirius?” The man crooned, and Ahsoka raised her wand. He was exuding a need to run into the Force - there was no doubt in her mind as to who, exactly, was guilty. He spread his arms.

“My old friends-“ Pettigrew ran for the door, only to be shoved back by Lupin and Black before he got even remotely close to Ahsoka.

Looking around, Pettigrew changed his tactics, walking toward the blonde.

“Oh, Ahsoka, look at you... you look so much like your father, like James - we were the best of friends-“

Black grabbed his arms and yanked him back.

“How dare you speak to Ahsoka?! How dare talk about James in front of her?!” He spat. Lupin jumped in as they cornered Pettigrew behind the broken piano in the room.

“You sold James and Lily to Voldemort, didn’t you?”

Pettigrew sniffled pitifully - purposefully, Ahsoka felt, wrinkling her nose. At least Bariss had had the courage to stick by her choices.

“I didn’t mean to!” He wailed. “The Dark Lord had powers beyond your wildest imaginings! You have no idea of the weapons he possesses!”

Ahsoka thought of Darth Sidious, of Order 66, and suppressed a snort.

“Tell me, Sirius, what would you have done?” Pettigrew appealed, voice pleading.

“I would have died rather than betray my friends!” Black screeched, as Pettigrew tried to escape by climbing under the piano, toward the door.

He grabbed Ahsoka and hissed.

“Ahsoka, what would James have done? He was merciful - he would have shown me mercyyy - Aagghh !”

Ahsoka’s knee had gone up between his legs as Black and Lupin grabbed him.

Black shot her an approving look.

“You should’ve realised, Peter, that, if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would!”

“No,” Ahsoka cut in, voice quietly strong.

“Ahsoka, this man-“ Lupin tried.

“I know what he’s done,” Ahsoka affirmed, self-assured but quiet. “We’ll take him to the castle.”

“Bless you, girl-“ Pettigrew started, only for Ahsoka to cut him off.

“So that he can prove your innocence, Black.” Eyes around the room widened. “I won’t have an innocent man in prison, or worse, if I can help it.”

All eyes in the room were on her, and Black and Lupin looked ridiculously proud. Ron and Hermione just smiled encouragingly.

“After that, it’s up to the courts what becomes of you , Pettigrew.”

She then turned to her professor.

“Now, is there a spell we can bind him with? I don’t want him getting away.”


Severus was in acute shock.

Pettigrew was alive - in his hands, under the incarcerous spell, with an anti-animagus-transformation bracelet. What he’d woken up to.

He’d wanted to take Lily’s murderer in himself.

Potter and Granger were helping Weasley limp back to the Castle in front of them, the night closing in around them. Black and Lupin were guarding either side of Pettigrew, and Severus himself was bringing up the rear, holding the man’s bound wrists.

Then, the moon came out - a full moon.

Lupin began to change.

Potter immediately handed Weasley over to Granger, imploring himself and Black to,

“Get back to the Castle as fast as you can, you di’kut’e !”

Severus didn’t know what the insult was, but it probably wasn’t very flattering.

He complied, desperate to bring Lily’s killer to justice. When they made it back to the Castle, it took a lot of explaination, but, eventually, both Black and Pettigrew were put in cells, so that they might face a full trial, complete with verusitam, before the Wizengamot.

Fudge looked miffed, but Severus took pleasure in the knowledge that the killer of the woman he loved would no longer walk free.


Five minutes after Snape arrived, the three teens did, slamming the door behind them.

“Headmaster.” Ron heard ‘Soka say, “There’s a werewolf outside. We barely got back in time.”

Dumbledore paled, before calling a few teachers in to contain the werewolf.

He noticed, hazily, that they didn’t refer to Lupin by name.

“How’d you do that?” He slurred, once Madame Pomfrey has left the three in the Hospital Wing. “Fight off the werewolf, I mean?”

Hermione jumped in.

“I’ve never seen you fight like that, ‘Soka. Where did you learn that?”

‘Soka shrugged, a slightly sardonic smile on her face.

“My older brother taught me,” she told them, like it was some kind of inside joke.

He was confused, because he knew that the Potters only had one child, but, at that point, he passed out from stress.

When he woke up, he (wisely) chose not to press the issue.

Chapter Text

Later that week, Sirius sent Ahsoka a firebolt broom. It would never be as good as the fighting in the sky at the Siege of Madalore, or generally flying near Anakin (nothing would), but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t rub her joy in Malfoy’s face.

Especially when she was told that she was to move in with Sirius, her newly-freed godfather, whatever Dumbledore might have to say on the matter. She also had her name legally changed to Ahsoka Potter-Black, and was granted the Black Heirship beside the Potter one she already held (Malfoy was fuming for days).

It would never be what it was with the rebels, or before Order 66, or even before the Temple bombing, but it was good enough for Ahsoka.


It didn’t take Ahsoka long to adjust to life at Twelve Grimmauld Place. Others might complain about the décor, or the hygiene, or the house elf, but Ahsoka had spent too long working in horrible conditions - with the Rebellion, in the Sublevels of Coruscant, and as a Jedi undercover - to complain.

Twelve Grimmauld Place had nothing on the slave markets of Zyggeria, or being hunted with other younglings by trandoshans (oh, Kalifa), or the Sith Temple on Malachor (though that was more about Vader than anything else).

So she helped Sirius with cleaning up the house, getting to know him, and learning how to be a normal teenager.

Then, a month after she’d arrived, Morai flew in through an open window, and begun to make friends with Hedwig.

This was going to take some explanation.


Sirius watched ‘Soka greet the strange bird with a smile and a stroke, looking practiced as she offered it an arm as a perch.

“‘Soka?” He asked. She looked up at him, and he gestured to the bird in question.

“Oh, this is Morai. She’s a convoree.”

Sirius blinked.

“What’s a convoree?”

‘Soka rolled her eyes.

“A bird, obviously. Morai, this is my godfather, Sirius Black. Uncle Sirius, this is Morai.”

“Where did you find her?” He asked, intrigued, as she walked forward and begun to pet... Morai, was it?

‘Soka snorted.

“More like she found me a while back, and just... stuck around, I guess.” She looked up at him imploringly. “Can she stay? Please?”

Sirius smiled.

“I don’t see why not.” He admitted.

And that was that.


Ahsoka woke from the dream with a gasp. As a practitioner of the Unifying and Living Force, she knew that it wasn’t just a dream.

A man had been murdered that night.

By Voldemort.

And two others had been there, too. Who were they?

She frowned and opened her book on wards, wanting to add some extra ones to her and Sirius’ tent (with separate rooms for each of them, of course) at the Quidditch World Cup.

Just in case.

She also double-checked that her wand and lightsabers were within easy reach, and that the tent was in a defensible position.

If her time as a Jedi and with the rebels had taught her anything, it was that one could never be too prepared.

Then she drifted back into an uneasy sleep, wanting to be alert when Ron and Hermione arrived the next day.


The Quidditch World Cup - while awesome to watch, and featuring some of the best playing Ahsoka had ever seen - had nothing on some of the more intense swoop bike races she wasn’t supposed to have watched, or watching some of the Jedi Masters spar. Plus, she didn’t like the not-so-subtle Force-manipulation the Veela placed on the men. For that, she was almost glad that the Irish won.

That, and the fact that Dean would not be insufferably moody at school.

After the match, Ahsoka went back to the tent - thankfully, it was right next to the Weasleys’ - and placed a few extra wards over both tents before bunking down, hoping for a good night’s sleep.


Ahsoka woke up to screaming and fire, and cursed her luck.

But she also wasn’t and idiot, and so rounded up the Weasleys, Hermione, and Sirius, and got them to apparate out of the area, back to the Burrow.

She also knocked out every Death Eater who got close - they were not expecting Muggle combat from the Girl-Who-Lived, especially not to her extreme degree of training. She also surreptitiously pushed the fire away from them by redirecting the oxygen flows to only come from above and be just enough that they didn’t have difficulty breathing, as well as altering the fire itself.

Her time spent with the Shapers hadn’t been wasted.

And she’d take a flustered and panicking Molly Weasley over a Death Eater any day of the week.

Once again, all the excuse she gave was ‘My older brother taught me to fight’, and tried not to think of Trace and Rafa Martez.

Chapter Text

Bartimus Crouch Jr. looked out on the class full of students. He really didn’t want to be here, but his Lord had ordered him to be, and so he was.

His polyjuiced form opened his Alistair-Moody-lookalike mouth and introduced himself in the man’s grating tones.

He then began to teach about the unforgivable curses - something he really didn’t want his enemies knowing about, but Alistair Moody would have taught the children about them, and so would he.

He narrowed his eyes when Ahsoka Potter-Black was the only member of the class not to laugh at the imperius ed spider - the only one to recognise what the curse could really do. She was also the only one not to react to having a spider land on her face.

Interesting .

He decided to pay attention to Potter’s reaction to the cruciatus curse above all of the others’. If nothing else, it would give him something worthwhile to report to his Master.

Her face went perfectly blank at the sight, like she was reliving bad memories.

[Ahsoka was remembering the few times she had been hit by Sith Lighting, and the shock collar on Zygerria. But Crouch didn’t know that.]

Even more interesting.

Eventually, at the behest of one Hermione Granger, he stopped, sending the Longbottom boy back to his seat.

Finally, he demonstrated the killing curse, earning a wince from the students.

But Potter just narrowed her eyes.

Interesting .

[Unbeknownst to Crouch, Ahsoka was dealing with the realisation that this was how her parents had died. She was also mentally likening it to a blaster shot, and this comparison gave her Ideas.

Very useful Ideas.]


Ahsoka didn’t really know what to think of the Triwizard Tournament.

On the one hand, what it offered - money, fame, and eternal glory - were things she had no need for. Her vaults were ridiculously full, so she could provide for herself anything she needed - she didn’t need or want more money; she was already famous (and definitely didn’t like it); and, for her - and Anakin - it had always been more about the people she was saving than being renowned back home on Coruscant. As an Order 66 survivor who had worked with Luke Skywalker (Skyguy Jr., to her mind) to rebuild the Jedi Order better than before, she was already immortalised in the hall of fame at the new Temple. Her story would be told for millennia throughout the Galaxy, why would she wan it to be renowned for a few centuries on a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere?

But, on the other hand, it seemed like it would be a good test of skill and power.

But it hadn’t particularly mattered to her until her name came out of the Goblet.

She had, however, squared her shoulders, and walked forward, the way she had during her trial, head held high and shoulders back, refusing to be put down for something she hadn’t done.

Not again.


“I swear upon my magic that I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire, nor did I ask another to do it for me.”

Severus blinked at the perfectly serene girl, whose face was perfectly blank. Everyone in the room waited for the screaming and pain that always came with the loss of magic, but it did not come.

Potter was telling the truth.

And Severus did not know what to feel.

After much deliberation (and yelling on the part of the ‘accomplished diplomats’, which left the teens to surreptitiously bond over a dislike of adults. Severus shuddered to think of what a friendship between the four would mean), it was accepted that Potter would have to compete. However, she insisted on representing herself and not Hogwarts, so as not to give the school and unfair advantage.

He followed carefully as Diggory caught up to Potter in the hallway.

“Hey, Potter, why’d you choose not to represent Hogwarts?”

He watched as the girl raised a perfectly sculpted blonde brow.

“And cause an international incident? I think not. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Fair? How very Hufflepuff of you.”

Oh, great. He was flirting with her.

He heard her laugh, obviously not taken by his bumbling attempts at wooing her, and batted it back skilfully.

“What a very Gryffindor thing to say, Diggory.”

Then they went their separate ways, and Severus retreated silently to the dungeons.


For the next month, nobody spoke to Ahsoka. Nobody looked her way, or even tried to interact with her - except for Malfoy and his cronies, or Ron and his ‘new friends’, who tried to bully her. She ignored them all.

By the time the first task came around, she’d show them all.

As a Jedi, she needed far less sleep than anyone else, so she crafted a new schedule, which accounted for everything - including the fact that her dorm was no longer safe from the sabotage of her fellow Gryffindors.

05:00: Wake up, and begin physical training. Stamina, hand-to- hand, wand combat, lightsaber combat, flexibility, obstacle          courses, strength, speed; both togruta form and human, all on rotation.

08:30: Eat breakfast à la house elves and complete morning classes.

12:00: Eat a quick lunch (again, delivered directly by the obliging house elves), and then do homework.

13:00: Afternoon classes.

16:00: Research previous Triwizard Tournaments, then look up, learn, and train in spells (as well as Force-techniques, which she searched her well-organised mind for) that would come in handy in similar situations.

18:00: Put in an appearance in the Great Hall at dinner to ward off prying adults.

18:30: Head back to the Room of Requirement and continue training in whatever she felt like that day.

21:00: Sneak around the school searching for clues as to her task (it was on one of these occasions that she found out that she was to be fighting dragons, and she immediately replaced all research into general tournaments, including that specific sneaking-out session, with anything and everything to do with dragons). Being a spy for the rebels had been good for this one thing, at the very least.

23:00: Go to sleep in the Room of Requirement, where she had moved all of her things and found a bed.

She repeated the schedule every day, keeping up with schoolwork and preparations.

Nobody noticed - not the teachers who were supposed to be responsible for her, or the ‘friends’ she had thought she could count on.

She woke once more to the alarm-spell she had discovered.

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum {I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Daily remembrance of those passed on, followed by the names of those being remembered}, Bariss Offee, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, Plo Koon, Trace Martez, Rafa Martez, Satine Kryze, Bo-Katan Kryze, Korkie Kryze, Rex, Cody, Fives, Echo, Lux Bonteri, Asajj Ventress, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, Mon Mothma, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, Garazeb Orrelios, Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, Jacen Syndulla, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Mara Jade, Lily Potter, James Potter.” She whispered.

She could never repeat all of their names, could never say goodbye to all the people she wasn’t supposed to have loved. All the people she’d lost, through their deaths or her own.

But it would be enough.

It had to be.

She swung her legs over the side of her bed and got dressed for training.


Ahsoka blinked as Skeeter dragged her off for an interview (after the most infuriatingly long photo shoot she had ever participated in, and, as the Padawan of the ‘Hero with No Fear’, she had been to many), pulling her into a broom closet. But she lifted her head high and sat poised on the stool before the annoying reporter.

Emotion, yet peace.

Ignorance, yet knowledge.

Passion, yet serenity.

Chaos, yet harmony.

Death, yet the Force.

She repeated it in her head, like a mantra, and focused on it as the interview began.

“So, Miss Potter, how do you, a mere girl of twelve,” Ahsoka winced at the mistake, but chose not to correct it, “feel about competing against children with not only vastly more emotional maturity,” the younger girl fought back an eye roll, “but also a repertoire of spells you wouldn’t even attempt in your wildest dreams?”

“Well,” Ahsoka sighed, “I supposed that all I can do is try my best to survive.”

Skeeter leaned forward in her awful outfit, and the rest of the interview continued in a similar fashion.


A few days later, the exclusive article on the champions came out. Ahsoka’s section was short and generic, painting her as a little girl trying to survive being thrust into a dangerous situation.

The other champions’ stories, aside from Krum’s, were far less well-known, and so were more detailed.

Ahsoka smiled at her ability to fly under the radar, and continued eating her breakfast.


Severus frowned as he looked for Potter at the breakfast table. She wasn’t there.

Oh, well. She was probably just terrified of bad press ruining her celebrity, and annoyed that her sycophants weren’t falling at her feet.

So Severus ignored the truth of the situation, and kept on happily eating his breakfast.

Chapter Text

Cedric Diggory looked worriedly over at Ahsoka Potter, who had, quietly, told him that they were to face dragons - information that had proven true in the previous minute, just before Delacour had been sent out. The girl had become somewhat of an outcast in the previous few weeks, and he was worried about her mental health.

So he walked over to her in the tent, just sitting down beside her, trying not to stare at her blue-and-white outfit, which looked utilitarian, and contained an armoured skirt, greaves and boots , of all things.

“What do you think your chances are?” He asked quietly.

“Of winning the Tournament?” She asked, laughing bitterly.

Cedric did not like that laugh.

“Next to none.” She finished. “I don’t think I know enough magic to compete with seventh-years, yet. Not without some ridiculously good luck for me and ridiculously bad luck for the rest of you, anyways.”

There was something she wasn’t saying, but Cedric let it go. It wasn’t his problem.

“Of surviving? Pretty high. I had a good teacher.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Who?” He asked, cautiously, as Krum was called out into the arena. A small smile graced her face.

“His name was Anakin Skywalker.” She admitted. “He was my best friend, but he might as well have been my brother.”

Cedric would admit to being curious. Potter rarely discussed the people she knew outside of Hogwarts.

“What’s he like?” He asked carefully, brushing a water beetle off his robes.

“He was strong,” she admitted. “Rarely lost a fight. But what would surprise people was how kind he was. He cared deeply about his friends, and looked out for them until the end.”

Cedric noticed the sadness in her eyes, and had to ask.

“What happened to him?”

She just looked at him sadly.

Before he could press her, he was called out into the arena.

It was showtime.


Hermione watched ‘Soka carefully as she dove directly behind a rock, before the dragon could even see her. Traitor or not, she didn’t want her to die.

The brunette watched her close her eyes for a few seconds. The arena was utterly silent as a cream-and-green, owl-like bird flew overhead. Hermione paid it no mind.

‘Soka pointed her wand at the rock in front of her. Hermione couldn’t make out what she transfigured it into. She picked it up, took a deep breath, and threw it. She was running before it even hit the ground.

A concussive blast rocked the stadium, and the dragon roared, shaking from fear and pain.

‘Soka had set off a grenade.

As the dragon begun to recover, staggering over to inspect the blast site, the blonde ran faster than should have been possible, grabbing the egg before the dragon had even reached the crater. She picked it up and kept running, reaching the medical tent as the Horntail trundled back to her nest, none the wiser.

The spectators could only stare in shock.


Ahsoka raised a single eyebrow. After managing to come first in the First Task (and had the other competitors truly been so bad? She’d barely scratched the surface of what she could do), everyone, very suddenly, wanted to be her friend again. All of Gryffindor House, besides Fred and George, had ignored her existence for the last month, and they expected everything to be all fine and dandy?

Huffing, she walked right past her cheering housemates and hugged both Sirius and Luna, the Ravenclaw outcast she’d befriend during her own time as a pariah, saying a happy goodbye to her godfather before leading the younger girl back to their shared, makeshift lodgings in the Room of Requiement.

She had figured out that the girl’s ‘seeing crazy creatures’ was Force-sensitivity and had begun to train her, teaching her to defend herself and use the Force. She had even suggested that Luna add a modified Padawan braid, and, after Ahsoka had explained everything under an Unbreakable Vow, the younger girl - practically Ahsoka’s sister, by this point - had done so happily, weaving a smaller braid from below her left ear into her other hairstyles.

There were many raised eyebrows at their friendship, but they ignored them and continued.

It was time to figure out what the golden egg would do.


Ahsoka disliked the very concept of the Yule Ball, but she could dance well enough to do her part.

And so, when Blaise Zabini, one of the few Slytherins she could stand, approached her, offered a deal over the dance - he provided a partner who wouldn’t embarrass her, and she got him access to the politicians and VIPs at the head table, where the champions and their dates would also sit - she agreed.

After all, it was the smart thing to do.

And Ahsoka was nothing if not smart.

[And if she managed to shock the Wizarding World into submission while she was at it, well, that was just a bonus, wasn’t it?]


Ron felt his jaw drop as he saw the two young women walking down the stairs.

Hermione and Ahsoka had both informed everyone that they had dates already, but he hadn’t really believed them before he saw the two walking side by side down the main staircase, apparently having reforged their friendship over the shared horrors of ladies’ fashion (he shuddered at the very concept).

Hermione was in a beautiful, pale purple/pink dress, with short, see-through sleeves that matched her skirt ruffles, which started pale at her waist but got gradually darker and more red. Her hair had (somehow) been tamed into a stylish up-do, and Ron wished he’d plucked up his Gryffindor courage and asked her sooner.

And then there was Ahsoka. Her dress appeared to be in two layers - a large, floaty, ice blue skirt, and a navy blue over dress that waved down on either side of her legs. The top was tight and left her shoulders exposed, with the two ‘sleeves’ being barely more than strips of fabric on either of her arms. The entire overdress was covered in thin gold patterns, like stars, and on it’s hems. Her hair had been mostly let down, besides a few braids forming a thin crown, over which was a hair accessory that looked to be made of gold and sapphire flowers.

Every boy in the room was salivating, and Ron wanted to slap them on the behalf of the aloof Ahsoka, who walked into the champions’ line with...

Blaise Zabini?! Of all people?!

And Hermione had gotten a date with Viktor Krum?!

That was it. He was either seeing lookalikes, or he was dreaming. There was no other explanation.

But the dance was starting. Even if he was dreaming or hallucinating, or on the off chance that he wasn’t, he wasn’t going to make himself look like an idiot, damnit!


By the end of the night, Ahsoka had a friendly acquaintance started with Blaise Zabini, and had thoroughly enjoyed the dancing. It had been an odd mix of a typical state dinner and some of the more wild parties hosted by the vod’e and the rebels.

So what if Ron looked ridiculously jealous of both her and a newly-re-befriended Hermione (spending hours sorting clothing together was both a bonding experience and a good way to air old grievances)? He wasn’t her problem an more.


That night, she and Luna finally cracked open the egg. Despite how awful the screeching was, Luna had (correctly) identified it as Mermish.

They quickly requested a large body of water from the Room of Requirement, and listened to it properly.

“Come seek us where our voices sound - we cannot sing above the ground. An hour long you’ll have to look, to recover what we took...”

Ahsoka blinked, then stared at Luna in surprise, before a slow smile stretched across her face.

She could work with this.

“Lu, are there any Mer-villages anywhere near Hogwarts, by any chance? I’ve always wanted to visit one.”

Luna returned her too-sharp smile.

“There’s one in the Black Lake, I believe. We just have to learn how to breathe underwater for an hour.”

It wasn’t much later that the two girls - with Hermione’s help - had made a working water-to-oxygen breathing device, similar to what the Jedi had used on underwater missions. Able to breathe underwater indefinitely, they pulled on their black, muggle wetsuits (magicals were far behind the times) and swam into the lake, learning where the Mer-village was, as well as forming a mental map of how the Lake was organised. After some discussions with the Merfolk, they learned exactly what the task was, and began to prepare themselves, sneaking a tip to Cedric through the mail.

Communal school owls were a wonderful thing, sometimes.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka groaned when they took Blaise as her hostage. Honestly, not all love was romantic, nor heterosexual. In any life, Anakin or Padmé would be the best hostages to take from her (if one could find a way to chain up a ghost), but, right now, she cared about Luna, and maybe Hermione, more than any boy still among the living.

But she went to rescue him anyway (ignoring the Looks she was getting from the magicals for her wetsuit), going directly to the Mer-village - avoiding the traps where she’d scouted them out to be - rescuing Blaise with fifteen minutes to spare.

She did not wait to make sure everyone else’s hostages got out, because the Merfolk had sworn to her to let them all free. But, when she realised that little Gabrielle Delacour was part-Veela, she was aware of the breaking of their treaty, and went back down again to convince the Mer-Chieftess to let the now-hypothermic girl go.

Afterwards, she joined Fleur and the Mer-Chieftess, who had followed her to the surface, in chewing out the Tournament organisers, who looked suitably chagrined after being yelled at on elemental principles and respecting ancient treaties by two teenagers.

[Two weeks later, the Ministry of Magic was sued for several thousand galleons by the Delacours, and paid up quickly to avoid a scandal.]


Later that day, Bartimus Crouch Sr. was found dead. Ahsoka had never spoken to him except for some light banter at the Quidditch World Cup, and so she was totally unaware of the suspicious circumstances around his death, or his son’s conviction as a Death Eater.

At least, not yet .


It didn’t take Ahsoka long to find the maze where the Third Task was to take place. She regularly meditated in it’s outskirts, working out the fastest and least dangerous route through the maze, sensing whatever was in her way, with Morai lending her strength.

The Force was truly the most beneficial ally a person could have.


Luna Lovegood was having the best time of her life. For the first time, she had a friend - two, even!

Hermione Granger was funny, good at schoolwork, and always kind to her - even when they argued over the existence of the creatures she saw.

But Ahsoka Potter-Black... she was the best. She was kind, and caring, and helpful, and teasing, and the two of them could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything - their slight age difference had never seemed to bother the older girl, so Luna didn’t let it bother her, either. And, best of all, Ahsoka believed her about her creatures! She taught Luna about the Force and how to use it, and helped her recognise that the creatures she was seeing was her subconscious brain’s way of telling her what the Force was telling it .

Ahsoka had trained her, taught her. Given her the skills she needed. She learned the word Padawan , and grew a long braid, which she carefully wove into her overall hairstyle. She learned to meditate, she learned to use the Force to it’s fullest extent, she learned to fight.

Using a lightsaber, learning the katas and the near-meditative repetitiveness of the movements, was her favourite part of her training. Sure, the one she used was Ahsoka’s, but it liked her well enough to help her, and she was meditating every day so that she might find - and pull to her - the kyber crystal meant for her, as well as working with her teacher to find the other components she would need.

Once, Luna asked how Ahsoka had learned it all. The older girl had gotten a far-off look, and told her,

“Someone else recognised that I was Force-sensitive, the same way that I recognised you.” The older girl informed her. “He taught me like I’m teaching you now - he practically raised me. He was my best friend, my everything.”

Luna wondered what had happened, but knew not to press. She knew not to push Ahsoka on this man in the same way that she knew not to press her father about her mother. It would make them hurt too much.

“What was his name?” She asked, instead.

“Anakin,” Ahsoka replied, voice soft, and full of regret and love. “Anakin Skywalker.”


Ahsoka scowled, even as she raised her head high and stalked away. How dare he insinuate-?

She sighed, shaking her head, accepting her (perfectly valid) rage and releasing it into the Force. It would do her no good.

But she did go through what she knew, the way she had been taught to.

Karkaroff said that the Dark Mark - which Marked him as one of Voldemort’s former followers, so she’d be avoiding him as much as she could - was getting darker. That fit in with her vision from the start of the year - Voldemort was growing in strength.

She’d have to be careful.

And she would begin researching people who had been convicted as Death Eaters - if any had been acquitted, and who to keep an especially high guard up around.

[A few days later, she came across the case of Bartimus Crouch Jr., thought of Bariss Offee, felt sorrow on behalf of his mother, and thought no further on the matter.]

And Snape had threatened her, claiming that she’d stolen boomslang skin to make a polyjuice potion. But she hadn’t done so.

Which meant that someone at Hogwarts was not who they said they were.

Frowning, Ahsoka resolved ask the Room of Requiremt for anti-polyjuice wards.

Chapter Text

The stands for the Third Task were packed, full of exited, muttering people. Ahsoka blocked them out as she sat, cross-legged and in light meditation, wearing similar clothes to those she had worn for the Siege of Madalore (like she had during the first task, and when she trained in the Room of Requirement), waiting for the Task to start. She could hear that vulture Skeeter questioning others on what she was doing, but nobody had an answer.

Then, the announcement came. One minute until she was sent in. She stood up, unfurling like a lothcat, entering a stance that would let her start running quickly. She nodded to Morai flying overhead.

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum {I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Daily remembrance of those passed on, followed by the names of those being remembered}, Bariss Offee, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala Naberrie Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, Plo Koon, Trace Martez, Rafa Martez, Satine Kryze, Bo-Katan Kryze, Korkie Kryze, Rex, Cody, Fives, Echo, Lux Bonteri, Asajj Ventress, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, Mon Mothma, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, Garazeb Orrelios, Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, Jacen Syndulla, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Mara Jade, Lily Potter, James Potter.”

And then she was running into the maze, the sounds of the jubilant crowd vanishing from her ears in seconds.


Ahsoka knew her route through the maze. She dodged and weaved, acting the way she had during the Siege of Mandalore, dodging attackers and moving ships with as much ease as she now found her way through the very much static maze, changing directions easily.

After maybe an hour of running through the vast, complicated walls of foliage, she saw red sparks go up, and thought, morbidly, and then there were three.

Then, she sensed Diggory and Krum’s Force-presence nearby, but something was off with Krum’s. And then she recognised it, skidding to a halt.

Imperius curse.

Racing around the corner, she arrived just in time to see Diggory dodge Krum’s attack (was that the killing curse? She hoped it wasn’t) and stunned him. Then, she realised that Diggory was going to keep attacking, and so she stopped him. They sent up red sparks for the Bulgarian, and then went their separate ways, with Ahsoka going towards what she knew to be the best way to the cup.

And then there were two.


In the end, Cedric was staring at Potter over the cup, having reached it under her own power a while before. Afterward, she had just sat there, looking bored, while he fought his way to the centre of the maze, only interfering with accurate, well-placed spells when his life seemed to be in danger. So now, here they were, stood in an otherwise-empty centre circle, staring at each other over the victory cup.

“Well?” She asked, sounding slightly exasperated. “Go on, take it. You’ve earned it.”

He blinked, and then immediately refuted her.

“What? No! You got here first!”

“I never wanted to be here in the first place!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you!”

The two went back and forth arguing over who had the right to win, until Potter groaned, exasperated, running a had over her single, thick, straight braid (and... yep, he still had a crush on her. Great).

“Why don’t we both take it?”

And that was that.

“Three... two... one...” they counted down together.

As one, they grabbed the handles.

And then the world was awash with spinning colours and light.


Ahsoka pulled Diggory to the side, getting him quickly out of the way of the killing curse fired from whoever the man was who had cast it. They weren’t exactly friends, but she wasn’t going to just let him die.

“I don’t think this is part of the Task!” She hissed as they dodged through the graves, using them to shield against the man firing spells at them.

The man in question had one hand, and a bubbling cauldron. He managed to catch Ahsoka with a cutting curse when she moved Diggory away from what would have been certain death, had he stayed where he was, and dropped the blood in the cauldron. As he did, she caught a look at his face, and informed Diggory,

Osik {literally ‘dung’ or ‘poo’ - equivalent of sh*t} ! That’s Peter Pettigrew!”

Diggory stared at her, shocked.

“But Pettigrew’s in Azkaban, isn’t he?” He questioned, disbelieving. Ahsoka grimaced.

“Apparently, not any more. They probably didn’t put him in an animagus-proof cell. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fudge covered this mess up. But he’s right here and trying to kill us, so we just have to work with what we have!”

They heared him chant,

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!”

Something rose from the cauldron. A man, with no hair, snakelike slits for nostrils, and bloodred eyes.

“Robe me,” his voice was so similar to Sidious’ when she heard the command ‘execute Order 66’ that Ahsoka emptied the contents of her stomach, quietly, onto the muddy ground of the graveyard. Diggory didn’t look far off doing the same as they backed away quietly through the graves.

“It’s him . Voldemort.” She hissed, and Diggory nodded in agreement.

“Portkeys aren’t supposed to work at Hogwarts,” he hissed.

The shock had worn off him, letting him think clearly, adrenaline keeping him running and staving off the inevitable mental breakdown. The only reason Ahsoka was able to think clearly in this situation indefinitely was experience.

“The only way it would take us here - since this clearly isn’t Hogwarts - would be if it was meant to be part of the Tournament, but was diverted to take us here first.”

“Which begs the question of who diverted it,” Ahsoka pointed out, “because that would mean one of the Tournament overseers is also a Death Eater. But the point is that we’re not going to survive a straight fight with that guy. We take the portkey and get the kriff out of here.”

Diggory nodded, and they began to move carefully through the gravestones. They could hear the Dark Lord crucio -ing Pettigrew for failing to kill Cedric (both of them winced at that) and letting Ahsoka herself get away from them. He also summoned his followers and gave them a grandiose speech - it had her wincing at it’s pretentiousness - before ordering them to search the graveyard.

But then the brilliant yellow of Diggory’s uniform - so visible compared to Ahsoka’s navy and 501st blue - caught Voldemort’s eye, and he fired a killing curse. The rest of the Death Eaters followed suit, and began to advance on their position behind a large, luckily well-angled grave.

Ahsoka pointed her wand to the side, gripped Diggory’s hand and yelled,

Accio !” As the other boy shielded them from what spells he could.

The Triwizard Cup hit the blonde girl’s fingers, and then they were gone, Voldemort’s enraged screams filling their ears.


Hermione was on her feet, cheering, with the rest of the spectators, as Diggory and ‘Soka appeared, clinging onto the cup, a single hand on each handle. The two of them were battered and bruised, Diggory far more than ‘Soka, but they’d won. Both of them.

She heard Skeeter commenting on how shocking it was that they’d won together - and, indeed, they were supposed to be enemies - but she blocked the obnoxious woman out, especially when she started discussing a potential relationship between them.

The two of them stared at each other before bursting into hysterical laughter, clutching their sides as they laughed at some shared joke.


“They didn’t even bother with anti-portkey wards!” Diggory was commenting as Luna entered the Hospital Wing, watching the two non-unconscious champions talk. The only reason she’d been let in was because she was ‘family to a champion’. Skeeter was still arguing with the Auror outside so that she might get a statement.

Both of them were laughing hysterically, with a bandage on ‘Soka’s arm and multiple larger gashes on Diggory. Both were bruised, with very small cuts on their hands and legs (like they’d pulled themselves through a hedge or two - she wondered if that was, in fact, what had actually happened, but the Force seemed to disagree). Diggory did look more worse for wear, in any case, which made Luna feel a little better.

“Ahsoka?” She asked quietly. Her teacher smiled at her and opened her arms from her position of being propped up on pillows, her laughter dying as her face broke into a genuine smile.

“Come here, Luna,” and that was all it took for the younger girl to capitulate and climb into her older ‘sister’’s arms. She heard Ahsoka sigh, and asked,

“What’s wrong?”

The older blonde sighed again and whispered, quietly, in Luna’s ear,

“Voldemort’s back, dear one. Me and Cedric just saw it,” she admitted.

Luna could only stare for a few seconds, before burying her head into Ahsoka’s chest, terror filling her blood. The older girl just held her, pushing feelings of sisterly love and support and I’ll listen if you need to talk and you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to and we’ll get through this, Lu-Lu.

And Luna just clung to the older girl, unable to express how grateful she was for this girl who would protect her through thick and thin.

With Ahsoka keeping her safe, everything would be alright.


Later that night, the supposedly-dead Bartimus Crouch Jr. tried to kill Ahsoka, but he was repelled by her anti-polyjuice wards and she knocked him out with a well-placed hit to the throat. He was taken by the Aurors stationed around the Hospital Wing to keep out reporters, and the blonde girl fell back into an uneasy sleep.

[A week later, Crouch Jr. was in his old cell in Azkaban, cursing the name of Ahsoka Potter-Black to kingdom come.]

Chapter Text

The following day, the three of them, plus Hermione, met in the Room of Requirement to discuss a plan. They knew that they could not just go to the press - Fudge would deny everything, and the public wouldn’t want to believe that they were in danger, so they would refute them teens’ claims (especially since they were all still minors) and make them all pariahs (at least, more than they already were).

And none of them wanted that.

None of them trusted the adults in their lives with this, out of a desire to protect them or out of genuine mistrust, and so they had to do something themselves.

They agreed to organise ‘sleepovers’ at each others’ houses, sneaking out to spy on the Dark Lord’s movements. As the Heiress of House Black, Ahsoka had the right to let them into the House of Narcissa Black -Malfoy, Malfoy Manor, where they were sure Voldemort was hiding out.

It would be risky, but they could all manage it.

And so the three of them began to train.


That summer, they organised several ‘sleepovers’, taking advantage of the communication difficulties between the magical world and the muggle one. Dan and Emma Granger believed that Hermione would be staying with her friends in the magical world for four weekends during the summer, while Xenophelius Lovegood, Amos and Alex Diggory, and Sirius all believed that their children would be staying in the Muggle world with Hermione’s family.

It was the perfect cover.

“Alright,” Ahsoka began, as they walked as a group toward the muggle areas of King’s Cross station. She’d searched up the Malfoy address through Gringotts with her Black Heirship, and had found a way to access it by muggle public transport and about an hour’s walk.

“Let’s go through this again. If anyone asks, I’m Ashla Tano, I’m fifteen, and homeschooled. I live with my older brother and our single father, Cody Tano, in London, and I’m going with a few of my friends to visit our other friends in Kent,” Malfoy Manor was in Kent. “Next?” Ahsoka asked, looking at the other three.

“I’m Rex Tano,” Cedric put in. “I’m eighteen, also homeschooled, and your older brother. Our father left me in charge of you and your friends.”

“I’m Rafa Martez,” Hermione stated matter-of-factly. “I’m sixteen, I attend South Hampstead High School,” it was the school she would have attended if she hadn’t gone to Hogwarts, “and I live with my younger sister and our parents, Luminara and Mace Martez, in Hampstead, London. I’m going with my friend, her brother, and my sister to visit our friends in Kent.”

“I’m Trace Martez,” Luna finished liltingly, “I’m fourteen, and I also go to South Hampstead High School. I’m Rafa’s sister, and I’m going with my sister, our friend, and her brother to visit our friends in Kent.”

Ahsoka nodded, and the three of them boarded the train bound for Kent.

A few minutes later, it was pulling out of the station.


By the end of the summer, the four had quite a good picture of what was going on (as well as a thorough understanding of how to blend into the muggle world with their new personas). Voldemort was searching for something in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. They were also planning to remain in hiding for as long as possible.

Also, they’d seen that Voldemort was very free with his cruio es.

The three of them resolved to research what was in the Department of Mysteries, and otherwise keep their heads down. Dumbledore had, even without their testimony, been pushing the ‘Voldemort is back’ spiel with the press, and it was going about as well as they’d expected (which is to say very, very badly). Fudge was cracking down hard on all mentions of ‘Voldemort being back’, and Ahsoka sat within the blast radius.

It took Sirius sending a letter to the Daily Prophet informing them that he and his goddaughter did not believe that Voldemort was back (a lie, sure, but whatever) because the only way for a dead person to live on was by being a ghost, and a ghost cannot affect the living world, or have a body like that which Dumbledore had described.  They also threatened to sue for ‘slander of a pureblood heiress’.

The newspaper quickly retracted previous implicating statements and issued a formal apology.

But, even with that, they all wanted to fly under the radar, and so they resolved to do just that.


When they got to school, they were thrust into the drama that was Umbridge’s reign of terror. Every student kept their head down during her classes, not wanting to catch her eye.

Ahsoka, with a little help from Luna, began to Force-heal her peers who had been given ‘detentions’ by the foul woman, gaining respect and admiration for their ‘wandless magic’, which even Madam Pomfrey refused to help with, for fear of the High Inquisitor.

[Ahsoka thought of Vader’s Inquisitors whenever the title was mentioned, and fought to keep from laughing. Umbridge had nothing on the Sith’s acolytes.]

Because of this, Luna was popular for the first time ever, and, even though she would always love Ahsoka, she enjoyed branching out and making new friends - especially after Ahsoka assured her that she wouldn’t be offended by it.

The worst came when Umbridge started to ‘inspect’ other teachers, under the authority of one of her ‘educational decrees’ (really, they were just evermore blatant power-grabs, which reminded Ahsoka heavily of Sidious in the months preceding Order 66. The mental connection did not make her feel any better), asking invasive questions that barely related to what she was supposed to be inspecting. It all came to a head a few weeks later, in one of the school’s courtyards.


Luna was watching in the crowd when Umbridge tried to expel Trelawney. The woman might not have been the best teacher, or even the best person, but she was kind - if genuinely crazy, fraudulent, and dealing with one of the most severe nargle infestations Luna had ever seen - and she didn’t deserve this fate.

“Si- s-sixteen years I’ve lived and taught here,” Trelawney pleaded, and Luna felt her heart break for the older woman. Ahsoka and her father had preached kindness above all else, and Luna believed in it wholeheartedly. This was just needlessly cruel.

“Hogwarts is my home .” Her hand found Ahsoka’s, and the older girl squeezed back reassuringly.

This will not go unanswered. We will not stand by and let you do this to us without consequence.

“You can’t do this!”

Umbridge sighed her patented, patronising sigh, and lifted a sheet of paper with the ministerial seal on it.

“Actually, I can,” she informed the crowd.

It was then that McGonagall pushed her way through the unresisting students, walking out into the large, empty space that always surrounded Umbridge.

The usually-severe-looking woman pulled Trelawney into a hug, comforting the shorter woman. Luna blinked, surprised, and feeling the sentiment reciprocated by those around her, even Ahsoka.

“Is there something you would like to say, Minerva?” Umbridge asked, deceptively sweet and innocent.

“Oh, there are several things I would like to say,” McGonagall hissed, and Luna internally cheered her on.

But then the large, metal doors to the courtyard opened, and Dumbledore stepped out. The crowd of students parted before him like the Red Sea for Moses (yes, even as a pureblood, she knew the story), letting him into that empty centre circle.

“Professor McGonagall,” he greeted in an angry, commanding voice. “Please escort Sybil back inside.”

The courtyard was silent as the woman hiccuped, led by McGonagall back inside, leaving her trunk to be picked up by the house elves. She professed her thanks as she passed Dumbledore, and then limped back through the crowd of students, which had parted to let them pass.

“Dumbledore,” Umbridge’s hated voice echoed out. “May I remind you that, under Educational Decree Number Twenty Three, as enacted by the Minister, I have the right-“

“-the right to dismiss my teachers,” Dumbledore finished, and Umbridge looked very taken-aback by the notion that somebody would dare interrupt her.

Luna fought off the urge to giggle like a little girl.

“You do not, however, have the right to banish them from the grounds. That power remains with the Headmaster.”

Umbridge’s lips curved into a cruel smirk, and Luna held back a shiver only by the reassuring presence of Ahsoka’s hand in hers.

“For now,” the vile, pink-loving b*tch simpered.

Chapter Text

After the ‘banishing incident’, as it became known, students began to talk - quietly, at first, and then more openly - of rebellion against Umbridge.

Through her and Luna’s Healing, Ahsoka managed to coordinate a Student Council to discuss what could be done about Umbridge.

A Student Council was a rarely-called body where a male representative and a female representative from each year of each house met to discuss a problem with the official school leadership. First years were informed of it by the second years on their first night at school, but it hadn’t been enacted for at least fifty years. Any student could call a Council, but no Council-Caller could also be a representative (because that would be conflict of interest), and Magic forced everyone student to secrecy about the fact that it had been called at all. It always took place in a specially-designed room in the basement, near the Hufflepuff dorms, and had a yes/no magical voting box that tallied results for every representative.

Being the one who had called the meeting, Ahsoka started it off, looking at all of the representatives.

“I think that all of us can agree on the fact the Umbridge is a problem,” she began, and there were mutterings of agreement from almost all the representatives - except a few purebloods, who hadn’t been subject to her ‘detentions’.

“She refuses to let us learn any self-defence - now, I’m not going to say ‘I know for certain that Voldemort-“ many representatives flinched, but Ahsoka just kept going, “-is back’, or the other way around, because I don’t know either way. But whoever you believe, nobody in here can deny that none of us are learning anything in Defence Against the Dark Arts except what writer’s cramp feels like.”

There were a few laughs scattered around the room at that, and Ahsoka smiled. It seemed that Padmé had been a better teacher than either of them had realised at the time.

“I also have it on good authority that she’s having students write lines with a Blood Quill for detentions.”

Gasps of shock and outrage echoed through the room, with all the purebloods and most of the halfbloods grinding their teeth and whispering angrily.

Ahsoka let the clamour die down, and then continued.

“Firstly, I am here to plead with all of you to write home to any of your parents or your parents’ friends who have connections in the Ministry informing them of what’s going on. This isn’t about blood status or House rivalry, it’s about our education. Our futures.”

Before she could continue, the representative for the seventh-year Ravenclaw boys asked,

“All in favour of every student writing home to parents on this issue?”

The votes were cast, and it came in as fifty three out of fifty six votes in favour of the motion. Two votes were abstained - a first-year Hufflepuff girl and a second-year Slytherin boy, both of whom looked unsure and likely didn’t want to upset those they represented. The other vote was the only negative vote; a highly-prejudiced, Slytherin, seventh-year boy from a family of notorious Death Eaters.

Ahsoka smiled, and told the gathered representatives,

“Thank you, all of you. I’m so very grateful that you’ve made this choice.” Her face turned serious once more.

“But, as we all know, the Board of Governors, the Wizengamot, and the International Confederation of Wizards take an absurdly long time to decide anything . We need action now if we are to learn what we need to, not only to pass our exams, but also to survive the real world.”

“What are you proposing, Heiress Potter-Black?” Daphne Greengrass, the representative for the female, fifth-year Slytherins, asked.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room one by one.

“I’m saying that, if the adults won’t teach us what we need to know, then we’ll just have to teach ourselves.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then the room erupted into frantic conversations and yells, either for or against. Ahsoka waited stoically as the clamour eventually died down.

“And just who do you think should teach them, Potter?” The seventh-year, male representative for Slytherin sneered. “You?”

“If this body believes that I would be a better teacher with a more thorough knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Arts than seventh years, then I would teach, yes. But I, personally, do not.”

Before she could continue, the sixth-year, female representative for Gryffindor put out,

“But I do, Heiress Potter-Black. But I do not think you could do so alone. I put forward that you draw up a possible timetable, and request others who you believe would be good teachers to help you, and that we reconvene next week to vote on any amendments and it’s implementation.”

“It would have to work around pre-existing commitments, like Quidditch and prefect rotations,” put in Cho Chang, Cedric’s girlfriend and the representative for the sixth-year Ravenclaw girls. Every representative nodded in agreement.

“All in favour?” The fifth-year, male, Hufflepuff representative asked.

The votes came in. Forty nine out of fifty six in favour, five abstained (the first-year Hufflepuff representatives, the first-year Ravenclaw boy, the first-year Slytherin girl and the second-year Slytherin boy, none of whom seemed particularly secure as representatives). The two negative votes came from a third-year Gryffindor girl who Ahsoka could tell was jealous of her, and the biased, seventh-year Slytherin boy.

Ahsoka nodded at all of them, smiling gratefully.

“Just as another point,” Ginny Weasley, the fourth-year, female representative for Gryffindor, asked.

“Where are we going to meet? These classes are going to have to be somewhere Umbridge can’t find.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath, preparing to take a desperate gamble.

“Have any of you heard of the Room of Requirement? It’s also called the Come-and-Go Room.”

The room was utterly silent.

By the end of the session, Ahsoka was left with the daunting task of organising times and teachers for DADA classes in the Room of Requirement, while every student with a parent or a family friend who worked in the Ministry would be writing home about Umbridge.

Even with such a task ahead of her, Ahsoka smiled as she walked to her next class. Something was finally being done.


Eventually, they decided on a system of two classes every weekday, four every Saturday and Sunday off for the newly named Defence Association - or D.A., for short.

The timetable was as follows:


06:00 - 08:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the first-years - taught by Ahsoka (she was the only ‘teacher’ willing to wake up so early).

08:30 - 16:00 : ‘Official’ classes (Ahsoka used lunch and break to train herself and Luna in their... more unique skillsets. Luna had finally gotten her kyber crystal to Earth, and had used what scrap they’d collected to make her own lightsaber - it was green - which she was greatly enjoying training with).

16:00 - 18:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the remaining half of the first-years - taught by Lillian Gordina, a Ravenclaw, seventh-year, DADA prodigy (since the Gryffindor Quidditch Team trained on Monday nights).

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniques used by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric - who had gotten himself into the ‘teaching assistant’ position under Professor Sprout - Luna, Hermione, and Ahsoka only).

20:30 - 22:00 : Homework for Ahsoka, and then Force-training for whatever free time they had left.

22:00 : Sleep.


06:00 - 08:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the second-years (all those who play Quidditch) - taught by Ahsoka.

08:30 - 16:00 : ‘Official’ classes (Ahsoka used lunch and break to train herself and Luna in their... more unique skillsets).

16:00 - 18:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the other half of the second-years - taught by Adrian Pucey, a seventh-year, Slytherin, DADA prodigy, and Ahsoka. The Ravenclaw Quidditch Team trained on Tuesday nights.

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniques used by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric, Luna, Hermione and Ahsoka only).

20:30 - 22:00 : Homework for Ahsoka, and then Force-training for whatever free time they had left.

22:00 : Sleep.


06:00 - 08:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the third-years (all those who play Quidditch) - taught by Ahsoka.

08:30 - 16:00 : ‘Official’ classes (Ahsoka used lunch and break to train herself and Luna in their... more unique skillsets).

16:00 - 18:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the remaining half of the third-years - taught by Fred and George Weasley and Ahsoka. The Hufflepuff Quidditch Team trained on Wednesday nights.

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniques used by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric, Luna, Hermione and Ahsoka only).

20:30 - 22:00 : Homework for Ahsoka, and then Force-training for whatever free time they had left.

22:00 : Sleep.


06:00 - 08:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the fourth-years (all those who play Quidditch) - taught by Ahsoka.

08:30 - 16:00 : ‘Official’ classes (Ahsoka used lunch and break to train herself and Luna in their... more unique skillsets).

16:00 - 18:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the remaining half of the fourth-years - taught by Killian Amestris, a seventh-year Hufflepuff (who was good at both teaching and DADA), and Ahsoka. The Slytherin Quidditch Team trained on Thursday nights.

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniquesused by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric, Luna, Hermione and Ahsoka only).

20:30 - 22:00 : Homework for Ahsoka, and then Force-training for whatever free time they had left.

22:00 : Sleep.


06:00 - 08:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the fifth-years (all those who play Quidditch) taught by Ahsoka.

08:30 - 16:00 : ‘Official’ classes (Ahsoka used lunch and break to train herself and Luna in their... more unique skillsets).

16:00 - 18:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the remaining half of the fifth-years - taught by Lillian Gordina, a Ravenclaw, seventh-year, DADA prodigy, since the Gryffindor Quidditch Team trained on Friday nights.

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniques used by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric, Luna, Hermione and Ahsoka only).

20:30 - 22:00 : Homework for Ahsoka, and then Force-training for whatever free time they had left.

22:00 : Sleep.


06:30 - 09:00 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the sixth-years (all those who play Quidditch) - taught by Ahsoka.

09:00 - 11:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the other half of the sixth-years - taught by Adrian Pucey, a seventh-year, Slytherin DADA prodigy, and Ahsoka. The Ravenclaw Quidditch Team trained on Saturday Mornings.

11:30 - 13:30 : Break for lunch. Ahsoka trained to use the Force with Luna during this time, after eating.

13:30 - 16:00 : DA in the Room of Requirement for half of the seventh-years (all those who didn’t play Quidditch) - taught by Fred and George Weasley and Ahsoka. The Hufflepuff Quidditch Team trained on Saturday afternoons.

16:00 - 18:30 : DA in the Room of Requirement for the other half of the seventh-years - taught by Ahsoka.

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniques used by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric, Luna, Hermione and Ahsoka only).

20:30 - 22:00 : Homework for Ahsoka, and then Force-training for whatever free time they had left.

22:00 : Sleep.


06:30 - 08:00 : Wake up, and begin physical training. Stamina, hand-to-hand, wand combat, lightsaber combat, flexibility, obstacle courses, strength, speed both togruta form and human, all on rotation (Ahsoka only).

08:00 - 09:00 : Breakfast, waking up Luna.

09:00 - 11:30 : Slytherin Quiddtich training, Ahsoka and Luna Healing their fellow students as needed (downtime when not).

11:30 - 13:30 : Break for lunch. Ahsoka trained to use the Force with Luna during this time, after eating.

13:30 - 18:30 : Training in spells and completing any outstanding work, as well as increasing spell repertoire and refreshing Force-repertoire (Ahsoka only).

18:30 - 19:30 : Dinner in the Great Hall.

19:30 - 20:30 : Going over intelligence on the Death Eaters and learning the most effective combat techniques used by the Aurors in the last war (Cedric, Luna, Hermione and Ahsoka only).

20:30 : Sleep.

On Monday, two weeks after Umbridge tried to expel Trelawney, the new timetable came into effect, and the D.A. students started to learn. Ahsoka smiled as she handed Hedwig her letter for Sirius (as enacted in the Student Council), giving both her and Morai a stroke before the snowy owl flew off.

And then Ahsoka turned around and headed for the Room of Requirement. Lunch was ending, and she and Heiress Gordina had a class to teach.

Chapter Text

Two days later, Umbridge issued a new ‘educational decree’, banning gatherings of more than three people outside of classes. As the D.A. was an official class, since it had been created by the Student Council (which superseded every other governing body in the school), it did not fall under this classification.

They still worked to keep it secret, however.

Draco, along with many pureblood Slytherins and Ravenclaws (the only group Umbridge did not persecute), joined the newly-formed inquisitorial squad, helping to misdirect Umbridge’s efforts away from the Room of Requirement.

Everything was going as well as it possibly could, under the circumstances, but Draco began to realise just how privileged and blind he had been, especially with the Dark Lord living in his house and terrorising his family.

It was a sobering realisation.


The D.A. had had to become flexible because of other, less major commitments for students, and so it was written into the rules that anyone could go to any of the D.A. meetings, so long as they tried their best to attend their own. As such, people who would never normally talk to each other were learning and working side by side.

Ahsoka learned things about those in her own year that she never would have under any normal circumstances.

Sure, she was aware that Hermione was ace, that Parvati and Lavander were an item, and that Dean and Seamus were dating in secret (Umbridge was deeply homophobic), and that she, herself, was demi.

But now she was learning that Draco and Astoria were contacted to marry, and that they had (without their parents’ knowledge) roped Ginny into the fold.

She discovered that Hannah was pan, that Susan was Jewish, that Padma was not just ace, but also aromatic, like Sirius.

Tracey Davis’ family were fanatical worshipers of magic, Blaise Zabini was pan (as well as a devout Catholic), Theodore Nott was gay, Pansy Parkinson was lesbian, Daphne Greengrass was bi (and had converted to Buddhism not long after she learned what it was), and Sue Li’s faith in Allah was awe-inspiring.

It was amazing, the things that you don’t really notice about people you see every day until you actually try to talk to them.

It was an important lesson, she felt.


“Do you even know what it’s like to feel certain that you’re going to die?” Zachariah Smith, one of the more vocal critics of the D.A., asked her, after she tried to explain the importance of being able to perform under the pressure of fear - even fear of death, or worse.

“As a matter of fact, I do!” She snapped, at the end of her rope after a month of constant insults, undermining and general nuisancery by Zachariah.

“Prove it!”

And that was how an entire class of the D.A. (a group of fifth- and sixth-years, as it happened) ended up crowded around a pensive, watching Ahsoka drop a memory in.

Slowly, they all sunk into the magical water.

Two wands light, illuminating a younger Ahsoka in white leggings, a brown skirt, a matching tube top and pair of boots, and a black belt with a purple tabard hanging down, as well as a slightly girl woman in a long-skirted black dress with a blue headscarf, bright blue eyes, pale brown skin, and a tattoo over her nose and upper cheeks made of lots of small squares.

“How deep do you think we’re buried?” The brown-skinned girl’s voice is lilting and smooth.

“It’s probably best not to think about it. Hand me that power cell, would you?”

The tattooed girl complies, and Ahsoka begins to twist out the wires from the ‘power cell’ and another small device.

“Thanks. Mind holding the light?”

“Whatever you’re doing, I hope it works, because I’d sure rather have died fighting up there than starve to death down here.”

“Don’t worry.” Ahsoka’s voice is wry. “We’ll run out of air long before we starve.”

“That’s a comforting thought. Thanks.” The other girl’s voice manages to be both indifferent and sarcastic at the same time.

“Master Skywalker has taught me a trick or two. I... think I can get this communicator working.”

“What happens to us now doesn’t matter.” The girl in the headscarf points out.  “By destroying this factory, we’ve saved countless lives elsewhere.”

Ahsoka smiles wryly.

“Well, I’m about to save two more.”

She starts to tap the wires together with no discernible pattern.

“Anakin... I know you’re out there... and I know you’re looking for me...”

She stops tapping, too weak to carry on. The brown-skinned girl raises her arm, revealing a tattoo similar to the one on her face on the back of her hand. Ahsoka lifts up her own arm, and they clasp hands.

Suddenly, they hear the scaling and creaking of metal being lifted.

“Someone’s digging!” Ahsoka exclaims.

They watch as a piece of metal blocking their exit is lifted out of the way, and they stumble out, coughing violently, into the sunlight.

They rose from the pensive, gasping, and staring at the blonde. She merely looked at the time, and dismissed them.

After a while, the event was folded into ‘the mystery of Ahsoka Potter-Black’.


A few months later, in the spring term, Ahsoka woke up with a gasp, eyes wide and shocked. She’d had a vision of Arthur Weasley - the kind man who’d done his best to help her, despite not really knowing how - in a room full of glowing orbs, seriously injured (if not fatally so).

Looking across the room, she saw that Luna was also awake, and looking at her with wide eyes.

After a brief conference through the Force, they jumped out of bed and pulled on their combat training outfits - Ahsoka’s styled after the outfit she’d worn during the Siege of Mandalore (since she could afford the good-quality materials that made it up, as opposed to the scraggedy mess she’d been forced to wear when she grew out of it), and Luna’s a simple pair of leggings, a skirt, and a tube top, similar to what Ahsoka’s own outfit had been in the early stages of the clone wars, but in blue and green (Luna’s style focused mostly on flexibility, like Ahsoka’s, but, unlike the older girl, she hated the feel of armour), as well as a thin black jacket that she didn’t bother fastening up.

Then, they ran for Dumbledore’s office, knowing that he was the only man who could do anything, however awful he was as a person.

He let them in, and Ahsoka breathlessly explained what they’d seen, not bothering to explain how they’d seen it. Dumbledore could draw his own ridiculous conclusions.

Half an hour later, she was sat in that same office with the Weasley children (all of them, even those who had flooed in), anxiously awaiting news on Mr. Weasley’s status at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Malladies. Luna had been ordered to return to her dorm, as had Hermione, who had come in with Ron.

“Ahsoka?” She looked up to meet the eyes of a confused-looking Ginny Weasley, and nodded her her to continue.

“How did you know that dad was in danger?”

Ahsoka shrugged, and said,

“...I... just saw it, in my head, I guess. And then I figured that I’d rather be safe than sorry, and so I went to Headmaster Dumbledore to see if he could check whether or not it was true. And it was.”

Everyone looked at her, mystified, and George asked,

“Has that ever happened before?”

“Well, at the start of fourth-year, I saw a man being murdered, and his body showed up a few weeks later. And...” Ahsoka didn’t know whether to talk about the experience, but decided to do it so she could confuse Dumbledore.

“...I’m not sure if this counts, but, one time, before I moved in with Sirius, I had to sleep in a cave,” more specifically, it was on Mortis in her previous life, but they didn’t need to know that,

“So I lit a fire in the entrance, and I woke up in the middle of the night. The thing that caused me to wake was a voice asking me:

‘Are you happy, child?’. When I opened my eyes, there was another woman in the cave - she looked a bit like me, but older.

‘Your teacher - does he treat you well?’ she asked me.

‘What concern is it of yours?’ I asked in return.

‘I am your future.’ she told me, ‘Your potential .’

‘This is a trick.’ I replied, because, well, what else could it be?

‘There is a wildness to you, young one.’ she said. ‘Seeds of Darkness planted by your teacher. Do you feel it?’

‘No.’ I told her. ‘He is like no one else - passionate, impulsive... but I trust him with my life!’

‘There are many contradictions in you.’ She told me. ‘And in him. Be warned ! You may never  see your future if you remain his student! Leave this place!’ and then she stepped into the fire and went up in smoke.”

Ahsoka sighed.

“I woke up to my aunt calling my name.”

At that point, before the stunned Weasleys could ask any questions, Dumbledore came out of the floo, and told them,

“Your father is stable, children. He is going to be okay. You may return to your dorms.”

Ahsoka ground her teeth, seething at the blatant disregard for the possibly that the Weasleys might want to see their father, but left for the Room of Requirement anyway.


A week later, the news was all over the Daily Prophet. Eleven convicted Death Eaters, including Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rasataban Lestrange and Bartimus Crouch Jr. (Neville was visibly distraught at the thought of his parents’ torturers walking free). Rita Skeeter was questioning the Aurors’ skill and integrity, while the Minister was quick to promise a country-wide Hunt for them, but was conspicuously silent when asked who had perpetrated the attack.

Hermione put the paper down and met the eyes of Ahsoka, Luna and Cedric. They all knew what was really going on.

Voldemort was massing forces for an attack on the Department of Mysteries, to gain whatever it was that he believed would win him something.

All they could do was be ready.


Near the end of term, it was time for exams once more. Ginny would admit that Ahsoka had been right - Fudge had repeatedly blocked them in the Wizengamot, Lucius Malfoy was working to slow their efforts with the Board of Governors, and the I.C.W. had decided not to interfere with such a ‘small’ thing as Hogwarts’ teaching methods.

She was in the hallways outside the main exam hall, waiting for the ordeal to be over for her friends, too, when Fred and George stealthily crept around the corner and into the corridor where she was sat. It was only through years of vigilance in the face of their pranks that she spotted them at all.

She sat up straighter and watched them, wondering what they were up to.

They made a ‘keep quiet’ motion, pulled out brooms, and then Umbridge walked out of the exam hall, looking rather confused.

One of the twins extended his wand, and a firework buzzed around a shocked Umbridge’s face before moving past her and exploding over the students still sat at their desks.

Ginny grinned as her brothers rocketed over the pink-loving b*tch, wands draws as they destroyed exam papers and loosed fireworks into the exam hall, cheering as they went.

The fifth-years stood up, watching the show, as Umbridge stumbled back inside, eyes wide with shock and fear. Those who had been bigoted about the D.A., only held back from telling Umbridge about it by the Magic of the Student Council, were terrorised by the fireworks, and the hall was dotted with bright, sparkling dashes of colour where the fireworks had exploded near hard surfaces.

Ginny grinned, walking into the hoard of Gryffindor, but paused when she heard one of the twins yell,

“Ready when you are!”

She blinked as the other twin laughed, already flying towards the wall as the first threw something into the air, hitting it with a well-aimed incendio before flying after the other redhead and out of the way.

The strange, comb-like object expanded into a mighty dragon of flame and brightly-coloured gunpowder.

It sped toward a panicking Umbridge, who was hemmed in by the two columns of students on either side of the central aisle, running out of the door as it chased her down.

It closed it’s jaws on her just after she’d cleared the doors of the hall, before exploding with enough force to shatter the glass covering Umbridge’s ‘educational decrees’, as well as their hooks and their paper insides.

Almost as one, they collapsed off the wall and into the otherwise-silent hallway, leaving a pile of formless wood, shredded paper and shattered glass around Umbridge’s gaping, pink-clad form.

Then the twins broke the shocked silence by rocketing back through the doors, whooping and cheering as they escaped into the courtyard, followed by a stampede of students barely making way for Umbridge as they ran outside to cheer the two redheads on.

Ginny joined their cheering as her brothers flew away. Half the school, including the teachers, were cheering as they dropped one last firework - a large ‘W’ to light the stormy sky.

Chapter Text

Luna blinked, and stumbled back, only kept from falling by Ahsoka’s hand steadying her. She looked up and met Ahsoka’s eyes. After a brief conference through the Force, they grabbed Cedric and Hermione before running upstairs to the Room of Requirement to get changed. Ahsoka put on her Siege-of-Mandalore-style (and quality) outfit once more; Luna wore her simple, skintight, blue-and-green, trademark leggings, skirt, and tube top, with her black jacket zipped up this time; Cedric donned a pair of brown, tracksuit trousers and a black jacket; and Hermione shimmied into her muggle-bought black leggings, complete with a blue stripe down the side, blue t-shirt, and a matching blue-and black jacket.

Voldemort was finally making a move - he’d sent Lucius Malfoy at the head of a group of Death Eaters to attack the Department of Mysteries. And they would put their long-prepared plan into action.

Umbridge and Dumbledore had complete control of the castle’s floo network.

They didn’t have a portkey to London, and portkeys didn’t work at Hogwarts anyway.

Cedric was the only one old enough to apparate (but he could only take himself, since he wasn’t very powerful, and he didn’t have a license yet, so it would be illegal) and they’d have to run the five miles to the edge of the Hogwarts ward line, which would take far too long.

Only Ahsoka had a broom that could fly all the way to London without malfunctioning, so that method was out.

The school thestrals were about to have a very long afternoon.


" The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark them as his equal, but they will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.... "

Ahsoka’s eyes were wide as she listened to the prophecy play out in her hand. She stared at her friends, and then met Luna’s eyes.

They both knew what ‘the power the Dark Lord knows not’ was referring to.

It was also clear to all four of them that this was the ‘weapon’ Voldemort had been searching for in the Department of Mysteries.


She pushed her friends behind her, lumos-lit wand and prophecy extended in front of her in lieu of her still-hidden lightsabers as she rested her left hand on her left lightsaber (which she and Luna had previously established as ‘able to block spells like one would block blaster bolts’), knees bent ready and able to defend herself if necessary. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Luna doing the same.

A man in a Death Eater’s mask strode down the aisle, trying to look menacing.

He had so little on Vader, Dooku, Grievous, Sidious and Maul that it was actually hilarious, and Ahsoka just managed to turn her laugh into a cough.

Cedric also trusted them enough to take a position guarding their backs, facing away from the masked Death Eater.

The Death Eater pulled his wand out of a sheath in a staff ( sloppy work , Ahsoka decided, he should have had it in an easier place to reach than that ), and - in another utterly pointless and (frankly) stupid move - pulled his mask off his face.

Ahsoka smiled at the shock she felt from Lucius Malfoy through the Force when he realised that none of the teens were surprised to see him there.

They had also been careful to stay away from junctions, so they couldn’t be flanked from the side.

“Hand me the prophecy,” he ordered, trying to regain his footing.

“If you do anything to us, I’ll break it,” Ahsoka informed him, voice as steady as it had always been in combat.

A chilling, high-pitched laugh echoed down the corridor, and Bellatrix Lestrange stepped out. Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, reaching out with the Force. Lestrange felt remarkably similar to Ventress, and was also - according to what the blonde had found in the Black family records, very much bisexual.

Ahsoka internally smirked, making sure to keep her face blank and bored. This would be fun.

She knows how to play!” Lestrange proclaimed, smiling sinisterly.

“Itty bitty baby Potter!” Ahsoka smirked back.

“I’m glad you think so highly of me, my darling.”

The hallway was silent for several shocked seconds.

Then Lestrange burst out into full-bodied, cackling laughter, her face breaking out into a full smile.

“Oh, I like this one.”

“Let’s everybody just calm down, shall we,” Malfoy tried (sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than them), looking like he wanted to burn the image of Ahsoka Potter-Black flirting with Bellatrix Lestrange out of his mind forever. “All we want is that prophecy.”

“Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?” The blonde girl asked, trying to buy time and lure them into a false sense of security.

“You dare speak his name?” Bellatrix hissed, sounding genuinely shocked. Her face began to turn angry.

“You filthy halfblood !”

“Calm down, Bella, she’s just a curious lass, aren’t you?” Malfoy tried once more to diffuse the tension, his job made all the harder by the smirk Ahsoka pulled her lips into.

“Prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made.”

If only Jedi holocrons worked that way , Ahsoka mused sourly. That way, Anakin would have had much better peace of mind. Maybe he wouldn’t have Fallen without that pressure.

“Which is lucky for you, really,”

“Guys!” Cedric interrupted Malfoy’s monologue, much to his obvious annoyance. Hermione wheeled around to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Cedric, the two of them facing the Death Eaters approaching from behind while Ahsoka and Luna took the front, meeting Malfoy’s icy gaze head-on.

“Haven’t you always wondered about the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord?”

Ahsoka blinked, and then shared her realisation with Luna through the Force. The dark tendril she’d pulled from her mind when she first regained her memories was a bond to Voldemort.

She felt the need to vomit, like she did after she realised that her Master-Padawan bond to Anakin also connected her to Vader.

But it did tell her one important detail: the Death Eaters believed that the connection still existed - that the visions which brought her here were sent by their Dark Master.

She smiled inwardly. She could work with that.

“Why he was unable to kill you when you were just an infant? Don’t you want to know the secret of your scar?”

Malfoy’s eyes flicked towards the prophecy, and then back to Ahsoka’s serious face.

“All the answers are there, in your hand.” He pressed.

“All you have to do... is give it to me.”

Ahsoka glanced down at the prophecy so that she wouldn’t burst out laughing at his ridiculous attempts to intimidate. After Order 66, she found very little to be intimidating any more.

Malfoy, however, took it as a show of fear, and continued his monologue.

“I can show you everything .”

“I’ve waited fourteen years.” Ahsoka proclaimed, only to be interrupted by Malfoy.

“I know,” he attempted to sound sympathetic, and failed utterly. Ahsoka fought back a snicker as she raised her chin and continued.

“I guess I can wait a little longer. Now !”

Stupefy !” The yell came from four throats, and the Death Eaters surrounding them were knocked back due to the sheer surprise and speed of the attack.

The group of teenagers ran through the stacks of prophecies, slinging incapitating spells at any Death Eater they came across as they raced to find an exit.

Eventually, someone fired a reducto, and the stacks slowly began to collapse in on themselves.

Ahsoka spotted a door and yelled,

“That way!”

The four teens sped through the falling metal and glass, pushing the door open and shoving through, only to find themselves falling from several stories up.

Ahsoka angled her arms and legs out to catch her fall like she had so many times before, twisting in midair before landing landing like a cat (one leg extended to the side with the other bent outward as far as it could go, left palm splayed across the floor for balance while the right arms extended out to the side for the same reason) on the cold, hard, obsidian ground. Luna landed similarly, and she used an aresto momentum to stop Cedric and Hermione two meters from the ground, helping them to land on their feet, too.

The room was mostly bare, aside from a large stone in the centre of the room with a huge arch on top of it. Between the arch’s pillars was what appeared to be a curtain of air, and Ahsoka was very nearly blown away by the ‘veil’’s sheer power in the Force.

It was certainly stronger than any nexus she’d ever felt before.

And it was whispering.

Before any of them could do anything, the ‘veil’ rippled, and Anakin - Anakin - stumbled out.


Hermione blinked, wondering who the strange man who had stumbled out of the otherwise empty archway, dusting off his strange clothes (he wore black leather boots, brown trousers, a black tunic with a black leather tabard over it, a black-fabric-brown-leather belt, and a black leather globe on his right hand). He carried a strange metal cylinder in his gloved hand - it was similar to the ones ‘Soka and Luna wore on their waists - and, when he looked up, Hermione blushed at his shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and general handsomeness ( so what if that might not be a word? Shut up! ); the scar above his right eye only served to enhance it.

She kept her guard up, though - he could still be a Death Eater.

“Prove that you are who you look like.” Hermione heard ‘Soka’s voice come from beside her, quiet and deadly, yet so very loud in the otherwise silent room.

The brunette blinked. Did ‘Soka know this man?

“I thought you’d be happy to see me, Snips.” The man replied, voice teasing, a sardonic smile curving his lips beneath his twinkling blue eyes.

Apparently she did.

Osik {sh*t} , Anakin,” so his name was Anakin? Interesting.

Beside her, she spotted Luna narrowing her eyes, but paid it no mind.

“Cut the banthash*t,” banthash*t? Hermione had never heard that insult before, “alright? I was there after Endor,” where was Endor? And what happened there?

“I watched your body burn .”

Hermione winced at that. The man - Anakin - at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Your last words to me were ‘I won’t leave you. Not this time’.”

‘Soka nodded, and lowered her wand.

Then she was racing forward, wrapping her arms around ‘Anakin’’s neck, and kissing him for all that he was worth.

Hermione (along with Luna and Cedric) could only gape in shock.

She pulled back after a few seconds, lifting her hand to stroke his face tenderly.

“How are you... here? Alive?” She whispered, like she could barely believe her own eyes.

Anakin smiled, and gestured to the arch behind him.

“Can’t you feel it, Snips? This place holds more power than any other that I have felt before.”

Hermione blinked - she felt no such ‘great power’ - but ‘Soka nodded, as did Luna, so maybe there was something she was missing.

“Yes, Skyguy,” Skyguy? “I feel it.”

Anakin smiled at her proudly, and Hermione only had a moment to wonder why before their conversation was forced to move on.

“Even from beyond the veil, I can use it to manifest physically in the mortal plane - of only for a little while.”

Hermione had so many questions for Anakin - namely, what came after death, since ghosts were those who refused to move behind the veil, and she wanted to know what it was like there - but ‘Soka jumped in to ask first.

“Padmé?” The brunette girl wondered who ‘Padmé’ was, but she definitely saw the sadness on ‘Soka’s face when Anakin shook his head.

“She’s not like us , Snips, you know that.” So Padmé was a muggle? Interesting.

“Only a Force-user-“ Force-user? What the heck was a Force-user? “-can pass back through. But she wants you to know that she misses you, and that she’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

Anakin then leaned forward to rest his forehead on ‘Soka’s.

“We both will, when your time comes to follow us.”

‘Soka nodded, a single tear slipping down her face. Then, she looked back up to meet his eyes, their faces breaking apart once more.

“Obi-Wan?” She questioned, and Hermione wondered (again) who ‘Obi-Wan’ was.

Anakin snorted.

“Off bugging Luke and Mara,” yet more people she didn’t know, “ as per usual . I didn’t have the time to call him over once I realised what this place was.”

‘Soka nodded, and Anakin continued.

“By the way, there are two sisters over here who say they now own your bike since you left it with them so long.”

‘Soka snorted, amusement in her eyes, but, before any of them could do anything more, the door several stories above them opened, and several Death Eaters flew through it in plumes of black.

Lucius Malfoy grabbed the prophecy out of ‘Soka’s hand as her flew past, and the five of them stood in a circle, glaring at him and the other Death Eaters who had surrounded them. Malfoy turned away from ‘Soka - which would be a deadly mistake, Hermione was sure - raising the prophecy and smirking.

Before any of them could say anything more, there was a flash of light between Malfoy and ‘Soka. When it faded, Sirius Black was stood there, looking annoyed. Malfoy turned around, shock in his face.

“Get away from my goddaughter.”

And then Sirius Black reached out with his right hand and decked Lucius Malfoy across the face.

Chapter Text

All around the room, white plumes, so similar and yet so different from those of the Death Eaters, appeared around the room, forming into Nymphadora Tonks, Alistair Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, and many others.

Sirius smiled - he loved it when a plan came together.

Especially when the prophecy shattered in Malfoy’s hand. Beautiful.

He tried to persuade Ahsoka to take the other three teens land leave, but she just gave him a hard look and ran over to stand back-to-back with Luna Lovegood (he thought that was who it was, at least) and- was that the ghost she had been talking to at Hogwarts? But alive?

He pushed it out of his mind and focused on the fighting, working to keep Death Eaters away from where Lovegood, Ahsoka and the blonde man were destroying their opponents through a mixture of physical fighting and magic (the blonde man didn’t have a wand, but he could pull and push things wandlessly, so that worked more than well enough) that he had never seen before but was highly effective.

The fighting was fierce (mainly due to the fact that none of them could fight as well as Lovegood, Ahsoka, and the blonde man - seriously, where had they learned to fight like that?).

“What’s your count, Snips?” The man asked. That was when Sirius became certain it was the same ghost he’d seen before, but he put it out of his mind. Win the batttle first, get answers later.

He did wonder what the man meant, though.

Ahsoka replied with a,

“Twenty!” And Sirius was still just as confused as he was before.

Twenty ?! You’re getting sloppy. I’m on thirty already!”

It finally clicked in Sirius that they were discussing an incapacitation count. He blinked in shock at such a high number, and wondered how twenty could be considered ‘sloppy’.

“Well, Skyguy,” Ahsoka stated, far to prim for the situation (also, his name was Skyguy ? No, that had to be a nickname),

“You should have trained your... people better if you wanted me to improve. They were osik {sh*t} ,” he briefly wondered what ‘osik’ meant, or what ‘people’ Ahsoka was referring to - there was clearly some subtext to their conversation that he just wasn’t getting.

The blonde man - ‘Skyguy’ - shrugged.

“You got that right. I have no idea what was going in my head at the time.”

Ahsoka snorted, and stated drily,

“Neither do I, Anakin,” so his name was actually Anakin? Interesting. “Neither do I.”

Then, he spotted his cousin out of the corner of his eye. Before he could say anything, she aimed her wand at him and yelled,

Avarda Kedavra !”

Sirius closed his eyes. At least he would die in battle, protecting his family.

A few seconds later, he cracked his eyes open to see Bella’s shocked face, in the same room he’d just been in. Not dead, then.

Somehow, Ahsoka had shifted into what had to be a strange animagus form, which looked human except for her lack of hair, white facial markings, and the strange, blue-and-white striped, tail-like appaendages attached to the back of her head, where her hair used to be.

But that wasn’t the surprising part.

Ahsoka was holding out one of her strange, short, curved, cuboid-shaped sticks.

But that wasn’t the surprising part.

The surprising part was the brilliant, white blade extending from it.

A blade that had clearly deflected the killing curse.


After a few seconds of the room being utterly silent, Sirius heard ‘Anakin’ sigh,

“Finally,” unsheathe his own, brilliant blue blade, and enter a double-handed stance, while Ahsoka unveiled the white one inside her other hilt (for that was what they were, Sirius realised - hilts) and crouched into her own stance. Lovegood extended her own luminescent green hilt, entering a defensive stance.

“That wasn’t particularly polite, was it, my dear?” Ahsoka’s voice turned teasing, and Sirius gaped.

There was only enough time for Anakin to mutter,

“Not her, too,” before Bellatrix screamed in rage and fired many extremely dark curses directly at Ahsoka, who simply deflected them, like she had a preternatural sense for where they would be coming.

The fight continued in the room containing the Veil of Death for several minutes. Eventually, most of the Order plus Lovegood were locked in combat with the main contingent of Death Eaters in the Veil of Death room.

Anakin, Ahsoka and Sirius, however, ended up in the hallways containing the Floo corridors, fighting Bellatrix.

Well, ‘fighting’ was slightly misleading. Sirius was just deflecting any non-killing-curse spells sent his way, while Ahsoka and Anakin kept pushing Bellatrix back as the crazy witch cackled, deflecting all the spells she sent their way and sending as many of them as possible back at her; she blocked almost all of them, with a few cutting curses making it through and her being forced to dodge the reflected killing curses instead of blocking them.

Then, there was a dark cloud entering the hallway, and Sirius dodged to the side, recognising the noseless, hairless form coalescing into the hallway.

Ahsoka and Anakin looked at each other for a split second. Then, by some unspoken, mural agreement, they moved to stand back-to-back, Anakin taking on Bellatrix while Ahsoka took on Voldemort.

Very quickly, Voldemort sent a killing stream at Ahsoka, who blocked it with crossed blades, which absorbed the green energy. Anakin, meanwhile, took a far more vicious offensive with Bellatrix, forcing her to escape through the floo. He then wheeled around to join Ahsoka in fighting Voldemort.

The Dark Lord ended his stream of death when Anakin began to move into an offensive stance, and, cackling, changing his attack to a large snake of fiendfyre, which he sent at the other two. They both placed their blades back on their waists, deactivated, and stretched out their hands.

Then, the cursed fire bent away from them, curling back over itself and toward Voldemort. Sirius gaped at the display of such powerful wandless magic as the Dark Lord scowled and dispelled the fiendfyre.

Anakin and Ahsoka moved forward, blades raised once again, but, before they could get more than a few steps closer, Voldemort unleashed a Dark tide of energy toward the pair.

In the split second it took for the wave to reach them, the two re-deactivated their blades, linked hands, and synched their breathing.

A wall of pure Light expanded from their bodies, shielding them from the onslaught. Sirius noticed something odd, though - they breathed in sync, they moved in sync, they were connected by something other than the physical.

But their shield held for long enough that Voldemort released a scream of rage before pulling the Darkness back to himself, before allowing it to ripple out in a shockwave. It shattered all the windows in the hallway, sending glass shards slicing through everything as they fell (including the banner depicting Fudge, which Sirius was quite pleased by).

Then, the Dark Lord sent the glass shards flying toward Anakin and Ahsoka, and Sirius’ breath caught in his throat.

But, like with the fire, they simply reflected the shards back at Voldemort, who was forced to rapidly dispel the glass, turning it into sand, snarling.

Voldemort pulled it into a tornado around him and disappeared, the sand flying at Ahsoka. Then, the girl grabbed onto Anakin with a white-knuckled grip, eyes wide. Sirius knew what this was (as did, it seemed, Anakin, who was speaking quietly to her, trying to help her overcome the invader).


Sirius watched as Ahsoka’s blue eyes turned red and back again repeatedly for several seconds. Dumbledore, who had only just exited the floo into the hallway, made to approach, but, before he could reach the pair, Ahsoka’s eyes stopped flickering, remaining blue as she hissed,

You are the weak one, Tom ,” Sirius realised with a jolt that ‘Tom’ was Voldemort’s real name, and stifled a laugh at the wimpy name, because it really wasn’t the time for laughter.

“Because you will never know what it is to have a family . To be part of something greater . And I pity you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, I. Pity. YOU!”

Ahsoka screamed the last word out, and the sand surrounding her was flung back to where Voldemort had been before, coalescing into his corporal form.

Anakin and Ahsoka turned to face him, blades out, as the Dark Lord levelled his wand at them.

“You’re a fool, Ahsoka Potter. And you will lose everything .”

Suddenly, and with no warning except some signal that the two could see and no one else could, the two deactivated their blades, reattaching them at their waists, with Anakin entering a defensive stance, and Ahsoka pulling out her wand, shifting back into human form.

A half-second later, the floo lit up, with Cornelius Fudge at the head of a large group of Aurors, and with Percy Weasley at his side.

Hissing in anger, Voldemort dissolved into dust once more, but too late.

“He’s back ,” Fudge croaked, voice weak and trembling. A half-second later, Ahsoka and Anakin relaxed their defensive stances.

Sirius was sure, then, that Voldemort was gone, and allowed himself to release his tension.

They’d won , and that was all that mattered.


Ahsoka looked up at the man she loved, tears threatening the edges of her eyes. She vaguely noticed Fudge’s panic attack, the Aurors’ arrest of the incapitated Death Eaters, and her friends, the adults who’d finally done something, and Dumbledore giving statements to the law enforcement officers. But she had eyes only for Anakin.

“You have to go back now, don’t you, Skyguy?” She asked, quietly. He nodded, looking just as saddened as she did. She took a deep breath, and smiled sadly.

“Then... tell Padmé that I still love her, alright? And make sure Obi-Wan knows that I’m still mad at him for Mustafar. And tell Rafa and Trace ‘thanks’. Tell Bariss that I forgive her - the Council, too. And tell the boys that being dead is no excuse for slacking off.”

Anakin chuckled lightly at the last one, before his expression became serious again, and he took her face in his hands.

“I promise, Snips.”

Ahsoka pulled him down and kissed him again, long and slow, drawing it out as best she could. Then, she let go and stepped back, using what had become their customary farewell since he became a ghost.

“Thank you, Master.” And she bowed to him, all perfect lines and exemplary Jedi etiquette. Anakin smirked at her and returned the gesture.

“Thank you , my Padawan.”

And then he faded away into nothingess, leaving Ahsoka in the stunned and silent hall.

Ahsoka raised her chin, steeled her face, and walked toward the awaiting media vultures.

Chapter Text

“I owe you an apology, Ahsoka.” Albus started. He watched her reaction, though she remained utterly impassive.

If it wasn’t so damn annoying, it’d be impressive.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort made the connection between you.” Ahsoka frowned, though he still had no idea what she was thinking. He decided to keep opening up in the hopes that she’d react more openly next time.

“I thought that, by distancing myself from you, as I have all year, he’d be less tempted - and therefore you’d be more protected.”

Ahsoka nodded, but he still couldn’t read her. Damnit.

“Thank you, Headmaster, for trying your best. But.. the prophecy said ‘neither can live while the other survives’.“ She paused, and swallowed. “That... means that one of us has to... kill the other, in the end.”

“Yes,” Albus admitted softly, suppressing a smile when Ahsoka’s face grew angry.

[Unbeknowst to Dumbledore, Ahsoka was compartmentalising the information that the Headmaster believed her visions to be the result of a connection with Voldemort. She was also purposefully acting how any non-Jedi teenager would in such situations, pretending to be angry while she was only disappointed with how he’d failed her.]

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She hissed.

“For the same reason that you saved Sirius,” Albus told her, knowing that the comment would hit where it would hurt. But she just looked more enraged by the comment.

Interesting .

“For the same reason your friend saved you.” And Albus desperately wanted to know who that ‘friend’ (boyfriend? Lover?) was, but he didn’t know how to press her about it without her lashing out, as all teenagers were often won’t to do. Merlin, he hated adolescents. The only reason he worked at Hogwarts was the influence he gained over students.

Oh well, he was sure Sirius could (and would) ask her about it with far fewer repercussions. He’d get the answer from the Black Lord later.

“Because, after all these years - after all you’ve suffered - I didn’t want you to have to endure any more pain .”

[Internally, Ahsoka snorted. He didn’t know the half of it.]

“I cared too much about you.” He tried to go the ‘caring old grandfather’ route once more, because that would be what she would expect.

[Privately, Ahsoka thought of the old Jedi’s rule on love, and internally scowled. Luke’s new Jedi had done away with that rule for a very good reason. You can love someone and let them go. Dumbledore would have talked to her if he actually cared, like Anakin had.]

Ahsoka offered him a small smile, which he returned. It seemed that he still had her under his control after all.


As she walked out of Dumbledore’s office, only years of Jedi training kept her from bursting into laughter. Dumbledore thought that he still had her wrapped around his finger.

How wrong he was.

Dumbledore was a fool, and senile. But he did know things - things she’d pulled from him carefully during the meeting. And now she knew what she had to do.

She would live. She had promised Anakin and Padmé (her lovers, her best friends, her everything) that she would live.

On top of that, Voldemort was like a lesser version of Sidious. He needed to be defeated for the sake of everyone she cared about.

And so she would take him down.


Hermione sat in her car in the Hogwarts Express. Slowly, three others entered and sat down. Luna, then Cedric, and finally Ahsoka. She looked her three, somber-looking co-conspirators, and asked, softly,

“Everything is going to change now, isn’t it?”

Everyone else nodded, and then Ahsoka told them, quietly confidently,

“We’re going to win, though.”

There was a steel in her voice, an undertone of certainty, and Hermione, despite her previous fears, found herself full of hope. But Cedric questioned,

“Why do you say that, ‘Soka?”

“Because we have something Voldemort doesn’t have.” She told them, seriously.

“And what’s that?” Luna asked, tilting her head to the side.

Ahsoka smiled at them all, bright and free, and completely at odds with the situation at hand.

“Something worth fighting for.”


Ahsoka stood next to Sirius, working on Wards for the Granger household. They had discussed them with the family beforehand, of course, and everything had been agreed to.

Cedric, Hermione, Ahsoka and Luna has agreed to wanting to continue their spying, but that required an excuse - an excuse that had been compromised by Voldemort being in the open once more, since their families no longer believed it safe to visit the house of a muggleborn. This was the compromise - extensive Wards.

But Dan and Emma Granger believed that the work was being done simply because Hermione was Ahsoka’s friend - and this was why they would have put the awards up anyway.

A week later, the Wards were in place, and Rex and Ashla Tano boarded a train to Kent with Trace and Rafa Martez.


The four of them sat in stunned silence on the way back. Draco Malfoy had been ordered by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore, or die himself.

They all agreed that, however awful he was as a person, Dumbledore was an important rallying point - a figurehead for the Light.

That thought gave Ahsoka an idea.

“We need more figureheads.” She burst out, and the others looked at her questioningly. The blonde sighed, then extrapolated.

“Voldemort wants Draco to kill Dumbledore because he’s a figurehead, someone the people rely on - the ‘Leader of the Light’.” They all scoffed, but agreed with Ahsoka’s point.

“So, if the public has more leaders to rally behind, the fallout from his death would be less devastating. Because we all know that Draco deserves to live more than he does.”

The other three nodded, and then they got to work.


Sirius came into the room just as Ahsoka passed a huge stack of letters to Morai - truly, it was an ungodly thing - and wave her out of the window. He’d been planning to ask who ‘Anakin’ was, but, before he could get on that, he blurted,

“What was that for?”

Ahsoka sighed, and admitted,

“Luna just pointed out an important point while I was at Hermione’s, so I was following it up.”

Sirius sat forward, intrigued.

“What did she say?”

Ahsoka sighed.

“She pointed out that neither side in this war has many leaders. It’s basically just Dumbledore and Voldemort, whatever the Ministry likes to think.”

Sirius’ eyes widened as he thought about it. She was right. But...

“Why is that a weakness?” Ahsoka gave him a Look (she was far too like her mother when she did that) and sighed, presumably mentally bemoaning his ‘stupidity’.

“Last time, when Tom-“ Voldemort , Sirius corrected mentally, pleased by her understanding of the dangers of the Taboo, “-died, the Death Eaters collapsed. What would happen if we lost Dumbledore?”

Sirius winced. It didn’t bear thinking about.

“So, we’re all sending anonymous messages to the Daily Prophet, trying to give the people more figureheads.” Sirius leaned forward, curious. His goddaughter had a brilliant tactical mind, and he liked to see it in action.

“How do you think that’ll help?”

Ahsoka sighed, like she was about to reveal something she wasn’t sure she should, but would anyway.

“Well, when we thought Obi-Wan was dead, we fell back on Masters Windu and Yoda for support.” Sirius filed the names away for later.

“I’m saying that if, if Dumbledore dies, the public should have people they can fall back on. And that’s what this is.”

Sirius smiled and ruffled her hair, before saying,

“Good thinking, Ahsoka,” and heading off to process his new information.

Chapter Text

By the end of the week, Sirius had a list of everything he knew about what Ahsoka was trying to tell him, and the questions that he had about those. He planned to stagger them out over the summer, and not act rashly, as he almost had after the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries.

  • She knows several people who have died - ‘Anakin’, ‘Obi-Wan’, ‘Padmé’, ‘Master Windu’, ‘Yoda’, ‘Rafa’, ‘Trace’, ‘the boys’, and ‘Bariss’ (who were they to her?).
  • She’s insanely good at fighting (who taught her? Main theory: Anakin).
  • She has a really odd animagus form (what animal is it?).
  • She fought with a glowing, hot blade that could retract into it’s own hilt (what was it made of? Where did she get it? Where did she learn to fight with it?)
  • She has skill with battle strategy (why is that?).

Sirius sighed. It was a start, at least. And he’d begin with the first one on that list.


“Ahsoka?” She looked up, watching Sirius enter the living room.

“Tea?” She asked him.

“Yes.” She passed him the cup, then looked at him in question.

“I was wondering who the man you fought with in the Department of Mysteries was.” So he was finally being direct about it. She took a deep breath and gave him the lie she had already given to Luna, Hermione and Cedric.


“His name was Anakin Skywalker,” she told him, and he filed it away. “When I was younger, before Hogwarts, he realised that I was magical, and took me on as his apprentice.”

He gave her a questioning look at that comment, and she elaborated.

“His... family, I suppose, don’t ever use wands.” He raised an eyebrow. “We do everything wandlessly, and we’re also very strict with combat training.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“And they use those glowing swords, I assume?” He asked sarcastically.

“They’re called lightsabers, actually.” She corrected, almost on instinct, and he blinked. He wasn’t expecting that.

She shook herself, and then she continued.

“It’s... we’re not related, but it’s kind of a family, you know? I’m training Luna, Anakin trained me, Obi-Wan trained Anakin, Qui-Gon trained Obi-Wan, Dooku trained Qui-Gon, Yoda trained Dooku... it’s a lineage.” Sirius nodded, not really understanding, but doing his best to try.

“I fell in love.” She admitted, as she finished with the sentence that shocked him more. “With Anakin and his wife.”

Sirius choked.

“Two- two people?”


“At once?!”


Sirius sighed, and decided to have a mental breakdown later and ask questions now.

“What happened to them?” He tried, and her eyes turned sad.

“Padmé died in childbirth,” she admitted. “Anakin... he stopped being... himself, after that. He didn’t bother to fight back any more. He died a few months later.”

Sirius place his hand over hers, thinking of those he’d lost. They drank their tea in silence.


Sirius went back later that day and edited his list.

  • (-) = cleared up.
  • She knows several people who have died; ‘Anakin Skywalker’ - her teacher/ boyfriend - ‘Obi-Wan’ - Anakin’s teacher - ‘Padmé’ - her girlfriend - ‘Yoda’ - Obi-Wan’s teacher’s teacher’s teacher - ‘Master Windu’, ‘Yoda’, ‘Rafa’, ‘Trace’, ‘the boys’, and ‘Bariss’ (who were they to her?).
  • She’s insanely good at fighting (Anakin taught her).
  • She has a really odd animagus form (what animal is it?).
  • She fought with a glowing, hot blade that could retract into it’s own hilt ‘light-saber’ - she got it from and learned to fight with it thanks to Anakin (what was it made of?)
  • She has skill with battle strategy - Anakin taught her.

He’d deal with the odd animagus form next.


“Ahsoka?” Sirius asked. The girl in question looked up curiously.

“I was just wondering what your animagus form was.” She sighed, looking particularly vexed.

“We don’t actually know,” she admitted, and he gave her a questioning look.

She sighed once more.

“I made a list of everything that makes it different to my normal body, but that’s all we really know.”

She passed it to him, and he read it through carefully.

  • Better senses.
  • Better balance.
  • Stronger.
  • No hair.
  • No sweat.
  • Large, blue-and-white-striped ‘head-tails’ instead of ears.
  • White markings on the face (instead of eyebrows).
  • Sharper canines.
  • A predator’s instincts.

He smiled, handing it back.

“Thank you, Ahsoka.”

She smiled back.

“Happy to help.”


That afternoon, he edited his list once more.

  • (-) = cleared up.
  • She knows several people who have died; ‘Anakin Skywalker’ - her teacher/ boyfriend - ‘Obi-Wan’ - Anakin’s teacher - ‘Padmé’ - her girlfriend - ‘Yoda’ - Obi-Wan’s teacher’s teacher’s teacher - ‘Master Windu’, ‘Yoda’, ‘Rafa’, ‘Trace’, ‘the boys’, and ‘Bariss’ (who were they to her?).
  • She’s insanely good at fighting (Anakin taught her).
  • She has a really odd animagus form - humanoid, but with better senses; better balance; more strength; no hair; no sweat; large, blue-and-white striped ‘head-tails’ instead of ears; white markings on the face (instead of eyebrows); sharper canines, and a predator’s instincts.
  • She fought with a ‘light-saber’ - she got it from and learned to fight with it thanks to Anakin (what was it made of?)
  • She has skill with battle strategy - Anakin taught her.

That done, he decided to focus on the second to last item on his list - what her ‘lightsaber’ was made of.


A few evenings later, as he was washing up after dinner, Sirius decided to follow her into the sitting room, which had become a sort of private, after-dinner ritual for her - spending time in the sitting room alone.

He walked in, and stopped short at the sight of Ahsoka sat cross-legged on the ground, the pieces of one of her lightsaber floating in a line in front of her as she pulled pieces out, cleaned them, and put them back. But his eyes were drawn to the pure white crystal hovering in the middle.

“What’re you up to, Ahsoka?” He asked, wondering how she could do everything she was doing with her eyes closed.

“Maintenance,” she replied, simplistically.

“Just out of curiosity... how does your... lightsaber work?”

To his surprise (and happiness), her face broke into a smile, and she told him,

“Well, this-“ she gestured to most of the taken-apart blade (basically, everything that wasn’t the glowing crystal), “-is a beskar {mandalorian iron, able to stand up to even lightsabers} casing, and it keeps the energy of the crystal contained, and focuses it into a beam that can act as a blade.”

Sirius blinked. That was... surprisingly complex for a deadly glowstick. But...

“What’s beskar?” She smiled at him, and told him,

“A... very rare type of iron. Nothing can cut it.” He blinked again.

“Oh.” Really, what else could he say to that? He decided to just move on.

“What’s the crystal?”

“It’s a kyber crystal. They’re sentient, and we bond with them as we make our blades. The crystal is the heart of the blade. The heart is the crystal of the Jedi. The Jedi is the crystal of the Force. The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined. The crystal, the blade, the Jedi. We are one.”

Sirius stared in shock at the sentient rock, not even noticing what she’d said after that, as she cracked open an eye and then laughed at his expression.


On the day that Ahsoka was sent back to school, his list read as follows:

  • (-) = cleared up.
  • She knows several people who have died; ‘Anakin Skywalker’ - her teacher/ boyfriend - ‘Obi-Wan’ - Anakin’s teacher - ‘Padmé’ - her girlfriend - ‘Yoda’ - Obi-Wan’s teacher’s teacher’s teacher - ‘Master Windu’, ‘Yoda’, ‘Rafa’, ‘Trace’, ‘the boys’, and ‘Bariss’ (who were they to her?).
  • She’s insanely good at fighting (Anakin taught her).
  • She has a really odd animagus form - humanoid, but with better senses; better balance; more strength; no hair; no sweat; large, blue-and-white striped ‘head-tails’ instead of ears; white markings on the face (instead of eyebrows); sharper canines, and a predator’s instincts.
  • She fought with a glowing, hot blade that could retract into it’s own hilt ‘light-saber’ - she got it from and learned to fight with it thanks to Anakin. It was made of a sentient crystal encased in special iron - ‘beskar’.
  • She has skill with battle strategy - Anakin taught her.

He smiled as he waved her off. She would have a good year, he was sure of it.

Chapter Text

As she walked down the train, Ahsoka slipped a note into Draco Malfoy’s cabin. As a member of the Black family, he would be the only one inside able to read it.

She hoped.

But hope was all she had in this matter, so she walked a little further and started to plan with Hermione, Cedric (still working as an assistant for Professor Sprout) and Luna.


Severus was having a good day. Finally, the Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts position was his! Maybe the children wouldn’t end up being such easy-to-kill failures under his tutelage.

As he walked past the lines of students being checked for anything that might connect them to Voldemort, he noticed that Potter was taking a long time. He walked over and asked,

“Why are you holding up the line, Potter?”

She looked him in the eye and told him,

“Apparently, kyber crystals are banned, sir, but I don’t see a reason why.”

Severus blinked.

“Kyber crystals?” He asked.

Potter held up two white stones that glowed with power - he could feel their energy poking at his magical core. He took a step back in shock.

“How are they doing that?” He hissed. She gave him a quizzical look.

“They’re sentient, sir.”

Severus could only stare in shock at Potter’s retreating back even after he waved her through with numb hands.

Apparently, it wasn’t just humans who were enamoured with Potter. The f*cking rocks were, too.


Draco looked at Heiress Potter -Black on the other side of the Room of Requirement.

“What do you want?” He hissed. She (surprisingly) didn’t rise to his anger, simply saying,

“I want to help you, Draco Malfoy.”

And she did.

She helped him figure out the vanishing cabinet, she helped him learn spells that could take Dumbledore down, she helped him strategise and think.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked his... co-conspirator? Work partner? ...friend?

...Ahsoka. He asked Ahsoka.

She looked at him with far-too-old eyes as she told him,

“Because I’d rather Dumbledore die than you.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that, so he let it alone.


Ahsoka stared at the book in her hands. Someone had annotated it to the point where it was a literal font of information. Someone who just happened to be a potions expert.

Ahsoka had been using her lunchtimes to relax, her early mornings to train Draco, her late mornings to train with Luna, her afternoons to train without her, and her evenings to plan with her padawan, Hermione, and Cedric. But now her lunchtimes had a new purpose.

Learning the theory behind what was in the Half-Blood Prince’s book. She wanted to know why  things worked, not just that they worked.

She also sent a letter off to Sirius. She was aware that the Princes were an old, prosperous magical family. She asked her godfather for a family tree for ‘a research project’ - not technically  a lie.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been called the Negotiator. And Ahsoka had learned from the best (from him ) how to twist the truth to her advantage.


Albus watched as Ahsoka strode into his office, taking her seat. As with every time they were alone, her movements became smooth yet defined, like she was trying to maintain a protocol he was unaware of. The thing was, she was perfectly polite, but her strict adherence to formality seemed more like a taunt than anything else.

It was infuriating, because he couldn’t do anything about it without seeming paranoid.

“Ahsoka,” he greeted, affecting a grandfatherly smile, and she smiled back, a little. Good. Progress.

“Headmaster,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to show you something, Ahsoka. If you would follow me...”


Ahsoka vomited into the toilet. That boy had been broken beyond repair by his circumstances and Dumbledore had forced him into the part of a villain. It wasn’t Tom’s fault, the way that Anakin’s Fall was Sidious’ fault, not his.

But whatever sorrow she felt for the boy he’d once been, she did not feel for his older self. Unlike Vader, Voldemort did not answer to a Master. Unlike Vader, Voldemort had options after he Fell - like Ventress, once Dooku had kicked her out the house like his teenaged child he no longer wanted living in his basement.

And she would take him down - as an act of mercy for the innocent child he’d once been.


Ron grinned as he hugged ‘Soka and ‘Mione in celebration. He’d gotten onto the Gryffindor Quidditch Team!

Now, if he could only get with Lavender Brown and everything would be perfect.

[If he really thought hard about it, he wasn’t sure why he liked Lavender, exactly, but he did, and that was that.]


Ahsoka looked over at the youngest Weasley boy, a small, sad smile on her face. She knew what it was like to loose your home (she determinedly didn’t think of Order 66), and knew that he didn’t want pity.

She simply sat next to him and started a conversation, ignoring the Daily Prophet’s front cover as she did so.

They didn’t talk about anything deep and profound, but, by the end of the conversation, she could see a little of the old Ron sparking in his eyes, and feel his gratitude for the normalcy she offered in the Force around him.

[That weekend contained several articles in the Daily Prophet - one featuring an angry proclamation that Ahsoka had given in the school courtyard about ‘not letting fear win’, another about Sirius Black’s work in the Aurors to avenge the loss of his best friend - his goddaughter and Heiress’ father - and the Weasleys’ home, and another revealing Voldemort’s unicorn-blood-drinking habit.

Ahsoka smiled as she lay the paper down. More figureheads; more reasons not to support the Dark Lord. Everything was going to plan.]


Ahsoka dragged Ron by the elbow to Slughorn’s office, knowing exactly what had happened. She knocked on his door and hissed,

“Professor, Ron’s been put under a love potion!”

Shocked, the professor opened the door and gave him the antidote, questioning Ahsoka on why she hadn’t healed him herself. With a slightly strained smile, she informed him that she didn’t really have time to brew one, which Slughorn accepted as an excuse.

She smiled as she took the offered wine, which her Professor had offered freely. Before she could drink, however, Ron collapsed to the door, foaming at the mouth.

“Someone poisoned your wine, Professor!” Ahsoka exclaimed as she tried to sense Ron’s state. Slughorn had been genuinely thoughtful as he gave them the drink; someone else was to blame, as well as the target.

She grabbed a bezoar from the cabinet and shoved it into Ron’s mouth, working to purge the toxins into it. He was healed enough to be transported to the Hospital Wing, where a (hilarious) confrontation occurred between Lavender and Hermione.

Hermione won, and Lavender and Ron (‘Ronder’, as Paravati had coined their ship name) officially broke up.

Quietly, Ahsoka smiled. Their relationship reminded her of her brief foray with Lux Bonteri - fun while it lasted, but doomed from the start.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka, in what was becoming a very disturbing habit of late, emptied her stomach into the toilet.


She didn’t respond to Luna - she couldn’t. She simply dumped another stream of bile into the school sanitary system.

“Ahsoka, Teacher, what’s wrong?”

She reached for a cloth and wiped her mouth, before turning to her Padawan.

“I know how Voldemort came back from the dead.”

Luna gestured for her to continue.

“He split his soul, Luna. That diary in second year - the one that possessed Ginny - that was a horcrux .”

Luna promptly turned around and walked into the next stall.

Ahsoka could hear her retching through the thin, wooden walls of the cubicles.

She wiped her face and walked around the divide, pulling the younger girl’s hair away from her face - unlike Ahsoka, whose hair had been pulled into a bun to view the pensive, Luna’s had been loose, as it usually was.

Once Luna had finished, the two sat huddled against the wall of the stall for several hours, just finding comfort in the other’s presence. Sisters in all but blood.

“We won’t let him win.” Luna stated solemnly. “We’ll rebel against him and his ideals for as long as it takes. And we’ll win because we have something he could only dream of. Hope .”

Ahsoka nodded.

“Rebellions are built on hope.”

A few seconds later, hardened by resolve, the pair went to work with the Room of Requirement to figure out a way to detect horcruxes.


The following day, following some extensive research on magical family trees, Ahsoka found the only member of the Prince family to have a relationship with a muggle.

Eileen Snape née Prince, married to Tobias Snape, and blasted off the family tree for it.

Their child was the only halfblood of the Prince line.

Severus Tobias Snape.

Her DADA propfessor.

[That afternoon, Severus walked into his office and was shocked to find his old potions book, with a note and some money attached to it.

I found this in the potions store cupboard with the other borrowable books. I only just figured out who it belonged to - here is my compensation to you for borrowing it without your permission.

  • Fulcrum

Bemused, Severus stored it away with the rest of his things, and thought nothing more of it.]


That weekend, Luna, Hermione, Cedric and Ahsoka disappeared from Hogwarts very late on Friday night. They took the thestrals and tied them up in a field full of other horses and snuck to the nearest train station, making use of their now-massively-extensive knowledge of England’s train network to make it to the village of Little Hangleton.

They nodded in respect to the Riddles as they passed the dilapidated mansion and made their way to the Gaunt Shack, where they found Marvolo Gaunt’s ring (Albus hadn’t had the chance to go get it at the start of the year, since he was so worried about making sure that Ahsoka was under his control).

Luna and Ahsoka were able to sense the compulsion spell and flesh-rotting charm before any of them were snared, and they put the ring in a box to take it back to school. They returned on the Saturday night, and Ahsoka and Luna spent the Sunday meditating over the ring, cleansing it of all the spells that had been placed on it - the compulsion, flesh-rotting, and horcrux-binding spells combined with any protections that came with the fact that it was an Heirship ring. The next weekend, they travelled to a muggle jewellers’ shop and sold the owner the now-magicless emerald-and-gold ring. That was the end of that issue.

Three down, five to go , Ahsoka thought happily.


Two weekends after the magicless Gaunt ring was dumped in a pawnshop in London, the four of them snuck into Grimmauld Place and found the Dark Slytherin locket. They meditated over it and destroyed the spirit inside, giving the cleansed object to Kreacher - a feat for which they earned his everlasting respect.

Luna smiled as she snuck back through the floo and into the Room of Requirement, only to look at her Teacher in question as the older girl froze, her hands resting on her lightsaber hilts.

Ahsoka turned to face Luna and whispered,

“The Force is calling me, Luna-love. Stay here and rest, I’ll be fine.”

Luna nodded. The Force was never something to be ignored - if Ahsoka was supposed to go somewhere, alone, then Luna would let her go. Ahsoka smiled back at her in thanks.

“May the Force be with you, Padawan Lovegood.”

Luna watched Ahsoka’s armoured feet disappear through the door, and then she turned around to remove her own combat outfit. But she froze when she saw that the Vanishing Cabinet’s door hanging open.

Luna knew what the Force wanted Ahsoka to see - and Luna not to see.

“May the Force be with you, Master Potter-Black.” Luna told the silent room.

Then she headed back to her official dorm. She wouldn’t want to be in the Room of Requirement that night.


Ahsoka was feeling very grateful for her Jedi training as she clung to the bar with all of her might. Her hands were curled around a pole as she braced her leg against one of the rafters, hiding herself in the ceiling of the astronomy tower, looking down at Dumbledore as he stood waiting on the balcony.

Why the Force wanted her here, she didn’t know, but she would make the best of it.

She watched as Draco entered the observatory, but did not interfere. The Force willed that she would not, and she was, above all else, a servant of the Force.

“Hello, Draco.” Dumbledore greeted. “What brings you here on the fine spring evening?”

Draco silently aimed his wand at the Headmaster, arm shaking.

“Draco, you are no assassin.” Dumbledore tried to dissuade.

“How do you know what I am?!” Draco spat, and Ahsoka sighed softly. She could feel the Slytherin’s Force-signature - he was scared, and lashing out. She wanted to reach out to him, but the Force stayed her hand.

“I’ve done things that would shock you!”

“Like cursing Katie Bell and hoping that, in return, she’d bear a cursed necklace to me?”

Ahsoka frowned. She remembered yelling at Draco for that - she’d tried to stop him from getting innocents caught in the crossfire.

“Like replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison?”

Ahsoka scowled. She hadn’t known that Draco was behind that one, and it stung that he hadn’t headed her warning.

“I can’t help but think those actions so weak that your heart can’t really have been in them.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath and released her anger at Dumbledore’s condescending tone into the Force. It would do no good.

Trust me ,” Draco hissed. “I was chosen .”

Her pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.

“I’ll make it easier for you-“ Dumbledore started, pulling out his wand. However, before he could do anything with it, Draco snapped,

Expelliarmus !” And it flew out of his hand. Dumbledore was the only person in the room who seemed surprised by this.

Honestly , Ahsoka thought, magicals .

“Draco, Draco-“ Dumbledore began to say, only to be cut off by a large number of bangs.

“You’re not alone.” He stated, and Ahsoka rolled her eyes. To have come alone would have been foolish, and Draco was anything but.


“The vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement,” Draco admitted, and Ahsoka made a mental note to destroy that cabinet as soon as this was over. It was a strategic vulnerability.

“I’ve been mending it.”

“Let me guess,” Dumbledore interrupted, “it has a sister. A twin.”

“In Borgin and Burke’s. They form a passage.”

“Ingenious!” Dumbledore exclaimed. Then, his face turned more serious.

“Draco... years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices.”

Tom , Ahsoka realised.

“Let me help you-“

“I don’t want your help!” Draco spat, and Ahsoka fought back a groan.

“Don’t you understand? I have to do this.” Draco’s eyes started to fill with tears. “I have to kill you... or he’s gonna kill me.”

Before anything more could be said, Bellatrix Lestrange and two other Death Eaters came up the stairs.

“Well, look what we have here!” The insane woman greeted as she walked around the central hole. She looked at Draco, who still had his wand aimed at Dumbledore, and told him,

“Well done, Draco.” She pressed a kiss to the back of his neck ( gross , Ahsoka thought, she’s his a unt ! ).

“Good evening, Bellatrix.” Dumbledore greeted. “I think introductions are in order, don’t you?”

“Oh, too well,” Bellatrix agreed (or, at least, it sounded like that - her words were slurred together, and Ahsoka couldn’t quite make them out).

“But I’m afraid we’re on a bit of a tight schedule,”

Bellatrix turned to Draco.

“Do it!” She hissed.

“He doesn’t have the stomach,” one Death Eater commented snidely. “Just like his father. I think we should get on with it.”

“No!” Bellatrix snapped at the man. “The Dark Lord is clear , the boy is to do it.”

She turned to face her nephew once more.

“This is your moment,” she cajoled. “Do it! Go on, Draco, NOW !”


Snape stepped out from behind Draco, and Ahsoka smiled slightly, clinging tighter to her position in the rafters’ shadows.

“Severus,” Dumbledore tried.

For a moment, the room was utterly silent.


Mere seconds after the word came from the Headmaster’s mouth, Snape swung his wand.

“Avarda Kedarva !”

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (First Class), Cheif Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, pitched backwards off the Astronomy Tower, never to draw another breath.


Ahsoka clambered out of the rafters as the Death Eaters disappeared, the Dark Mark hanging in the sky above her. She leapt off the tower and angled her arms, streamlining her body like she would for any high-altitude drop off.

She flipped in midair once she was close to the ground, using the Force to soften the shock as she touched down on her feet.

She then ran around the rooftop she’d landed on, leaping down the buildings until she was at the edge of the crowd. She wove through it, and was the only person who came closer than a few meters to the fallen Headmatser.

She hadn’t liked him - had chosen Draco over him - but she still hated the deaths that war caused. She lay a hand on his heart, genuinely sorry, but the tears she she’d were for show.

For the symbol.

Then she stood up, and, silently, pointer her wand at the Dark Mark, firing beams of light into it. Others copied her, until all traces of the bleak symbol was gone.

The action was enough of a point made.

Enough of a symbol.

No more.


The four horcrux-hunters sat in the Room of Requirement, silently contemplating all that they’d done over the past year.

“I’m not coming back next year.” Ahsoka informed them, getting surprised looks from all of her friends.

“I’m going to copy the array from the Room of Requirement into Grimmauld Place over the summer - it’s Wards are strong enough to keep out the Death Eaters - and then I’m going hunting. I’m going to finish what we started.”

The Grey Jedi took a deep breath.

“I don’t know where that’ll lead me, but I’ll let you three know where I am.”

“I’ve always admired your courage, ‘Soka,” Hermione told her, and she raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“But sometimes you can be really thick.”

Before Ahsoka could splutter out a comeback - she was very smart, thank you very much - Cedric put in,

“You didn’t really think we’d leave you to find all those horcruxes by yourself, did you?”

“You need us, Ahsoka,” Luna stated softly.

Ahsoka didn’t, really, but she’d always worked better as part of a team or larger organisation, so she smiled at her friends and nodded.

“Summer-long sleepover at my place? There would only be a little bit of Death-defying rebellion against the pureblood status quo and Lord Tom Riddle’s deranged band of organised marauders.” She offered.

Cedric smirked, and lifted his hand like it had a glass in it.

“To the Rebel Alliance!” He toasted, and the others laughed mimicking his actions.

[Ahsoka tried not to think of the first Rebel Alliance she’d helped form.]

“To the Rebel Alliance,” she echoed.

Everything would work out, they knew it.


Later, as they left the train station, Ron Weasley caught up with the group. They sent home Looks, but, before they could say anything, he jumped in.

“Look,” he told them. “I may not have been the best friend I could’ve been to any of you, but I know you’re going off to risk your lives somewhere.”

He looked every one of them in the eye.

“I want to help.”

‘Soka smiled at him, and extended a hand.

“Welcome to the Rebel Alliance, Ronald Weasley. We’re happy to have you,”

Chapter Text

Hermione, Ron, and Ahsoka stood in the living room of Twelve Grimmauld Place, Cedric and Luna waiting in the kitchen, watching the floo that the Minister had just left through. Ron held the deluminator Dumbledore had bequeathed to him, while Hermione held the storybook the late Headmaster had left to her. Ahsoka was scowling.

“Why did he leave me something he didn’t own?” She questioned, looking over the snitch that had been her only legitimate gift.

“I don’t know, mate.” Ron told her, looking equally baffled.

“Well, I can guess why he left you the snitch.”

The pair of them turned to their friend, giving her inquiring looks. The brunette sighed,

“Snitches have flesh memories. It’ll do something if you touch it skin-to-skin in the place it was caught.”

Ahsoka leaned forward, intrigued, and pressed her lips to the gold surface. Something altered, and words appeared on it in a lacy font.

I open at the close.

She showed it to the others, but none of them knew what it meant.

“Well, I guess that’s an out, then.” Ron sighed.

They approached Cedric and Luna, the latter of whom brightened up when they mentioned the Sword of Gryffindor.

“The Sword of Gryffindor is goblin-made.” The youngest of the group explained. “It can’t get damaged - it only takes in that which makes it stronger.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened.

“I used it on the basilisk in second year.” She explained to the other three. “And basilisk venom can destroy horcruxes.”

“So the Sword can, now, too,” Hermione finished, smiling.

“We won’t always have the time to cleanse the horcruxes.” Cedric pointed out. “The Sword of Gryffindor would be a huge advantage.”

“So that’s our next target, then.” Ron grinned.


A few days later, they had a lead on the Sword, as well as the locations of the other horcruxes.

And it didn’t look good.

One was in Gringotts, and the goblins wouldn’t give it to them. But pissing off the goblins by stealing it was always a bad plan. However, it was the only plan they had, so Ahsoka (she had broken a prisoner out of prison before, and this was close enough that her experience was invaluable) and Hermione (more specifically, her eidectic memory and flawless recollection of the bank’s schematics) began to work through the logistics.

The other was in Hogwarts, one of Voldemort’s strongholds. They planned to save that one for last - make a rebellion of it with the students - and Luna and Cedric began to work with the Marauders’ map on a plan.

The other was Voldemort’s snake. They hoped that Voldemort would attack Hogwarts with his ‘familiar’ after they’d recaptured it, and saved that one for later.

The last was, of course, the Dark Lord himself, and they would attack him last of all.

But the first order of business was to recapture the Sword of Gryffindor.

Hermione had found a lead in Bathilda Bagshot - one of Dumbledore’s associates - who lived in Godric’s Hollow. Ron would be the only one of them not attending, having been recalled to attend his brother’s wedding. The rest of them left the house via the front door several hours before he did, bound for Godric’s Hollow (they couldn’t take the floo without it being noticed, so they were back to the old-fashioned train and walking).

Ron watched them go with sad eyes, before pulling his dress robes on.

He had a wedding to attend.


“I still think we should have used polyjuice potion,” Hermione groused as they trudged through the crowded wizarding streets, dodging the children who were out enjoying the summer air.

“No,” ‘Soka’s voice was firm. “This is the place I was born. I’m not returning as someone else.” Hermione acquiesced - she was right, after all.

“Besides.” Luna put in. “There are so many people here that no one’s going to notice us.”

The other three nodded, and they kept walking at a sensible pace.

‘Soka stopped and stared. The others sent her quizzical looked.

“Do you think they’d be in there?” She asked quietly. “My mum and dad?”

[Ahsoka didn’t remember her birth parents from her first life, but she’d had Master Plo, and not being able to visit his grave - knowing that his body had been blown up and unceremoniously dumped on some far-off planet to rot - had always hurt. She wanted to visit the only set of parents she had a grave for properly.

She wanted to have that small thing for herself.]

Hermione smiled sadly at her friend, wanting her to have the chance to say goodbye.

“Yeah, I think they would.” She admitted, softly.

As they walked among the graves, trying to find one in particular, Hermione spotted one with an oddly familiar symbol.

The one that was drawn into the book Dumbledore had left her.

“Ignanotus Peverell,” she murmured, reading the name on the tombstone.

She turned to tell her friends, but they were stood by another grave.

They stood in silence as ‘Soka conjured a wreath to lay on her parents’ resting place.

They formed a group hug as their friend wiped a single tear from her eye, letting it hit the ground.

Then, she felt the blonde stiffen, and she hissed,

“There’s someone watching us. By the church.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she glanced momentarily over at the figure, and then back at her friends.

“I think I know who that is,” she admitted.

As they followed the shadowy figure of Bathilda Bagshot through the town, they ended up stood near the shattered remains of ‘Soka’s birth home.

None of them noticed the bug on the wall behind them.

“This is where they died,” she whispered to them.

“This is where He murdered them.”

The group then turned to see the old woman stood not too far away.

“You’re Bathilda, aren’t you?” Luna greeted.


It wasn’t Bagshot. It was Voldemort’s familiar under the polyjuice potion.

They didn’t have the Sword of Gryffindor, or a way to contain her, so they ran, escaping back to Grimmauld Place.

They had begun to search for other leads for the Sword’s location when Ron stumbled in, looking very much worse for wear. Their were large burns and tears in his dress robes, his hair was disheveled, and he looked very stressed.

“Shacklebolt sent a patronus midway through the reception,” he reported.

“The Minister for Magic is dead - Scrimgeor’s been replaced by Pius Thicknesse.”

“Thicknesse is a Death Eater.” Cedric pointed out, eyes wide.

“Tom has control of the Ministry.” Ahsoka stated quietly, voice worried.

They all shared dark looks, before getting back to work.


A few months later - late November, after several months holed up in Grimmauld Place (except for the highly occasional run to the ward line to apparate to places Death Eaters were raiding to aid the Order of the Phoenix - a group they worked with, though were not part of) - they had a runic array ready to track the Sword of Gryffindor’s location. The five of them apparated to the exact location given, finding themselves underwater.

Ahsoka grabbed the Sword, then used her shoto blade to cut a hole in the ice, allowing the freezing, gasping quintet onto the icy surface. They smiled at each other, finally able to step up their efforts, and apparated back to their home, where they might dry off.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, as they were finishing planning their Gringotts heist, Ron came upon Hermione staring angrily at they book in her hands.

“What’s wrong, ‘Mione?”

The brunette sighed.

“This symbol,” she explained, and Ron looked at the one she was pointing to. He recognised it , but from where...

“I’ve seen it three times in places that can relate to Dumbledore, but I don’t know why!”

“Mr. Lovegood was wearing it at Bill and Fleur’s wedding,” Ron realised aloud.

“Maybe we should ask him.”


The five young adults - barely more than teenagers, really - and one older man raced through the trees. Xenophilius Lovegood has unintentionally triggered the Taboo at the end of the ‘Rebel Alliance’’s visit, and now they were running away from Snatchers at top speed.

At least they had learned everything they needed to know first.

The Snatchers had put up an anti-apparation Ward, and Ahsoka and Luna hadn’t brought their lightsabers as a show of faith - which had come back to bite them in the shebs {arse}.

When the Snatchers has nearly caught up with them, Hermione sent an overpowered stinging jinx at her, obscuring her features. Even with that handicap, Ahsoka could probably have outrun the Snatchers, if not for the vision that sent both her and her student into seizures.

They saw Voldemort interrogating Grindlewald in Numregard Prison - he had the location of the Elder Wand. That wasn’t good.

When they came to, they were in a cell underneath Malfoy Manor.

“Malfoy Jr. lied about you being you!” Ron had put into his explanation, voice full of disbelief - a sentiment Ahsoka didn’t share. She knew that Draco would help her.

Ron grew agitated as he explained that Hermione had been taken by Bellatrix Lestrange - an infamously deadly torturer, known for leaving none of her victims alive - because they had the Sword of Gryffindor in their possession. Apparently, her insane cousin had believed the Sword to be in her vault at Gringotts, and believed that they had stolen it.

Ahsoka sank to her knees to enter a meditation trance, and Ron told her,

“‘Soka, don’t worry, we’ll get her out,”

Ahsoka turned to face her friend.

“Be at ease, Ron,”

“At ease?!” Ron spluttered. “We need to act now! Hermione may still be alive up there!”

Ahsoka shook her head.

“There is not enough time,” she admitted. “I can sense her slipping away.”

“No.” Ron protested, voice hard. “We’ll get her out.”

The redhead began to try to pry open the door, but Griphook the goblin - another occupant of the cell - waved him off.

“It’s Warded against all attempts to move it except by those who hold the key.” He explained, looking annoyed (Ahsoka could sense that it was at Ron’s belief that they wouldn’t have tried that before).

“We cannot abandon our friend!” Ron spat, turning to glare at Ahsoka.

“You misjudge me.” She informed him, voice calm but serious as she met his eyes.

“I, too, care for our friend, but if her time has come...”

“I refuse to let Hermione die!” He yelled. “We will find a way out.” His tone held no room for argument, but Ahsoka challenged it anyway.

Sometimes, the truth needs to be spoken, however much it hurts .

“If our friend has perished, I will mourn her. But I will celebrate, her as well, through her memory.”

“Well, I still plan on celebrating our inevitable escape with Hermione - in person.”

Before they could continue their argument, they saw Peter Pettigrew creeping down the stairs. In a blink, Ahsoka was clinging to the rafters above the door, eyes narrowed.

When Pettigrew walked in, she dropped, knocking him out. He hadn’t had the time to close the door behind him, so the seven prisoners could escape. Ahsoka Force-pushed Bellatrix away from Hermione, then shoved every other Death Eater into a pile in the corner, sending a few disarming spells as she did (one of those spells hit an in-the-crossfire Draco Malfoy, but the significance of that action would not be felt for a long while). She lifted the weakened Hermione off the ground, giving her to Cedric while she defended the group from incoming spells courtesy of the piled-up Death Eaters who hadn’t been hit with disarmers or stunners as they ran for the Ward line, apparating away as soon as they could.

Once Hermione was safely inside Twelve Grimmauld Place - and Healed by Ahsoka and Luna enough that she was in no danger of any permenant harm (not even a scar left behind) - Ron pulled Ahsoka over and hissed,

“I knew she was still alive! I told you we shouldn’t give up on her!”

Ahsoka sighed. She knew that what she was about to say would hurt her friend, but he needed to hear it.

“It’s not that I gave up, Ronald, but, unlike you, when the time comes, I am prepared to let my friends go. Can you say the same?”

Ahsoka left her seething and confused friend in the hallway as she returned to her room. She needed to sleep off the Force-exhaustion she had from Healing Hermione.

[Later on that cold December night, Lord Voldemort arose from the broken-into tomb of Albus Dumbledore, his greatest tormenter, and unleashed a stream of lighting from the wand in her hand.

Voldemort had the Elder Wand, and the wizarding world slipped one minute closer to midnight.]

Chapter Text

Neville kept his face straight ahead, not even trying to be defiance. Resistance through subterfuge was their only way, now - at least until Ahsoka came back.

Because she would come back.

She would save them.

Hope was all they had left. They had to believe that she would come to help them.

Because, without that belief, they had nothing at all.

So they placed their faith in another girl trying to live, just like they were, and surreptitiously began to prepare to take back their school. Their home.

When the time came, they would only have one shot.

They would make it count.


The quintet of rebels - sixteen, seventeen and twenty respectively - stood in their kitchen. Ahsoka wore her Siege-of-Mandalore-esque battle uniform, Luna wore her blue-and-green combat leggings, tube top and jacket, and Cedric wore his brown tracksuit trousers and black jacket. Hermione wore a fancy black dress, and Ron wore matching black dress robes. In front of the latter two were two vials of polyjuice potion.

“Okay,” Ahsoka started. “What did we learn from Griphook?”

“We have the real Sword of Gryffindor.” Cedric informed the group.

“Bellatrix has a fake in her vault, that’s why she was so angry when she saw you with it, Hermione,” the brunette nodded.

“Okay.” Ahsoka moved on. “Ollivander’s told me to be careful with Bellatrix’s wand, so be wary of it, ‘Mione,” she told the group as she passed the wand in question to her friend.

Hermione nodded, placing the wand in her holster.

“He also said that if our vision,” she nodded at Luna, “was true, and Voldemort has the Elder Wand, we’re going to loose.”

Ron scoffed.

“We’re well aware of our odds. All we can do is our best.”

The group nodded in unison.

“Right, plan,” Ahsoka got them back on track.

“Me, Cedric, and Ron hide under the invisibility cloak, while Hermione and Ron polyjuice,” Hermione had stolen the required hairs while at Malfoy Manor, “as Bellatrix and Roldolphus Lestrange.”

Everyone murmured in agreement.

“Through our disguises - and, potentially, mind tricks - we get on a cart. The Thief’s Downfall will take us down into the pits, and we sneak past the dragon and into the vault. We make sure not to touch anything due to the gemino spell as we grab onto the horcrux and either destroy it on the spot or bring it back to cleanse. We then escape on the back of the aforementioned dragon, likely causing a osik -ton {sh*t} of property damage and putting us permanently in the crosshairs of the goblins, because it’s the only was we can think of to get out, and then we return here safely. Everyone got it?”

They all nodded, grinning manically.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, then nodded back at them.

“Then let’s get to it.”


Luna smiled as she opened her eyes, meeting Ahsoka’s over the now-magicless cup. The older blonde nodded, and left to post it to the Smith family. They couldn’t afford any unnecessary conflicts, now more than ever.

[Ahsoka altered her mental tally. Five down, three to go.]

Luna stood up and walked downstairs to eat something, thinking back over the heist. They’d gotten easily through the entryway, with the help of a mind trick on the head goblin courtesy of Ahsoka. Then, they’d taken the cart down the theif’s downfall - caught by Ahsoka - and managed to get past the dragon (a Ukrainian Ironbelly) with Ahsoka climbing along the ceiling, and then her and Luna working to float the rest of them after her. Then, the other four had guarded the door as Ahsoka made more judicious use of the ceiling to grab the cup and get back to the dragon’s room. Then, they’d managed to climb onto the Ironbelly and break it’s chains. They’d broken through the ceiling and flown out of the city, before using muggle public transport to get back home.

Luna smiled. It had been an interesting day, at the very least.


Neville met Ginny Weasley’s eyes over the table, holding back smiles even as their eyes shone with hope. Ahsoka Potter had broken into Gringotts and stolen something from the vault of one Bellatrix Lestrange.

The article portrayed it as an act of unprovoked aggression by a terrorist group, but they knew better. She was preparing for something. Something big. Bigger than this.

And the only target bigger than Gringotts was Hogwarts.

Neville looked at every Resistance member in the hall, knowing that they had all come to the same conclusion (and the Resistance had grown to a size that was staggering - even Pansy Parkinson would, curl her fist in bitter hope and not in resentment at the name Ahsoka Potter-Black . Neville ran the Gryffindor cell, working with his housemates to cause practical damage to the Dark Lord’s operations in Hogwarts. The Hufflepuff contingent, run by Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, acted as Healers for those who were injured due to the Carrows, sneaking food out of the kitchens to run a makeshift infirmary in the Room of Requirement. The Ravenclaw cell, lead by Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, and Sue Li, mainly researched spells and potions for the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors to use in their ‘work’. The Slytherins worked as information runners, passing intelligence to the Resistance wherever possible. They didn’t have a cell leader, but everyone single one of them chipped in where they could).

They would be free again, soon.

Chapter Text

They had planned very extensively in how to sneak into Hogwarts. They hadn’t, however, counted on the caterwauling charms covering Hogsmeade.

It was only thanks to Aberforth Dumbledore that they’d escaped. But the first thing he said to them was,

“Bloody fools. What were you thinking, coming here? Have you any idea how dangerous it is?”

“You’re Aberforth Dumbledore!” Luna exclaimed.

“Dumbledore’s brother.” She added on, for the sake of her confused listeners.

The bearded man gave them all some tea, which they all drank appreciatively.

“Are you working with the Order?” Hermione asked as they sipped, thinking of the organisation they often worked with. Aberforth shook his head, snorting.

“The Order’s finished. You-Know-Who’s won. Anyone who tells you different is kidding themselves.”

Ahsoka looked at him, and sighed. He’d lost hope. But they hadn’t.

“We need to get into Hogwarts. We have a job to do.” She told him, and his eyes widened as she continued speaking.

“There’s something there that we need to find.”

“Let me guess,” he spat. “My brother’s orders?”

Ahsoka shook her head, now waist-length montrals and lekku swinging. She had shifted into her animagus form before she left, and would not be turning back.

She would no longer hide herself for their delicate sensibilities.

“Our own. We’ve been hunting horcruxes, and there are three more - Voldemort, his snake, and Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem in the Room of Requrement.”

Aberforth snorted again.

“That’s not a job ye’ve given yerselves. It’s a suicide mission.”

Ahsoka sighed. Hard truths it was.

“I don’t care what happened between you and your brother. I don’t care that you’ve given up. We need to get into the castle. Tonight.”

Ahsoka could feel that her words hit him hard as he turned to the portrait and said,

“You know what to do.”

“Where have you sent her?” Luna questioned.

Aberforth’s reply was as cryptic as Master Yoda’s, but Ahsoka could feel from his Force-signature that he’d done as she’d asked.

“You’ll see, soon enough.”


Neville wondered what Aberforth was sending them this time. More food? Medical potions? Potions supplies?

The last thing he expected to see was Ahsoka Potter-Black, shifted into her animagus form, Hermione Granger, bushy hair neatly tied back (for once), Ronald Weasley, looking grim but determined, Luna Lovegood, wearing normal clothes for once, and Cedric Diggory, looking the most normal out of all of them.

They’d come for their friends at last.

He lead them through the passage to the Room of Requirement, and gathered as many students as he could. Ahsoka stood up on a makeshift dais and addressed the crowd.

“Hi, everyone.” She greeted. “I know it’s been a while, but we’re here now. In this room is Rowena Ravenclaw’s lost Diadem.”

The room erupted into whispers, but Ahsoka shushed them all with a wave of her hand. Neville was not surprised by her authoritarian attitude.

“The Dark Lord placed pieces of his soul into items that held significance for him. It kept him alive when he should have died.” Everyone in the room shuddered, looking repulsed. None of them liked the concept.

“We’ve been hunting them down and destroying them since August, and there are only three left. The Diadem, the Dark Lord’s snake, and You-Know-Who himself.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath, looking at the terrified by resolved group of teenagers.

“The Dark Lord has known what we’re doing since we broke into Gringotts - he hid one there - and he’ll be coming here to secure the diadem.”

She met the eye of everyone in the room, and Neville shivered when her blue orbs met his own.

“We need to contact the Order of the Phoenix - whatever else they may be, they’re damn good fighters.”

Collin Creevey dashed off toward a radio post set up in the corner.

“We also next to destroy the Diadem before he gets here - the Sword of Gryffindor-“ she gestured to the Sword on Ron’s belt, and the group gasped as they noticed it for the first time, “-can do it.”

“I volunteer!” Yelled Lavender Brown and the Patil twins, who were promptly handed the Sword. The Diadem appeared, provided by the Room as it’s occupents demanded, and they swung it down with their combined might, sending a blackened wisp yelling into the room before dissipating. Neville cheered with the crowd, and the quietened down when Ahsoka gestured for it.

[Inwardly, the togruta smirked. Six down, two to go.]

“We also need to get Snape and the Carrows out - the other teachers will side with us once they’re gone.”

Neville nodded, but, before he could say anything, Ginny Weasley ran in.

“Snape knows. Snape knows that Ahsoka was spotted in Hogsmeade. He’s called us all into the Great Hall.”

All eyes turned to Ahsoka, who smiled slightly.

“Think you can conjure up an extra uniform? I’d hate to miss out on our revered Headmaster’s address.”

Chapter Text

“Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour.” Severus began, looking out at the crowd of students before him.

“It has come to my attention,” he informed them, “that, earlier this evening, Ahsoka Potter was sighted in Hogsmeade.”

Severus let them mutter amongst themselves for a few seconds before he raised his voice once more.


The room went silent instantly.

“Should anyone - student or staff - attempt to aid Miss Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression. Furthermore,” he continued before they could begin to talk again, “any person found to have knowledge of these events who fails to come forward... will be treated as equally guilty .”

He let that hang for a few seconds in the stunned-silent hall, before beginning to walk forward, down the aisle created in the middle of the hall.

“Now, then. If anyone here has any knowledge of Miss Potter’s movements this evening,” he hoped, for their sakes, that they didn’t, “I invite them to step forward.”

He paused, waiting for someone to do so. When no one moved, he continued for extra incentive,

Now .”

For several seconds, all was silent and still.

Then, footsteps in the Gryffindor area.

Gasping, everyone turned to look... Ahsoka Potter herself, in all her head-tailed glory, walked out into the aisle.


Ahsoka had been preparing what to say as she marched with the Gryffindor column to the hall.

She, personally, had no love for the old Headmaster, but the students had loved Dumbledore, had been devestated when he’d died.

What better way to turn them against Snape than to reveal that the raven-haired man had killed Dumbledore?

“It seems,” she let her voice ring out clear and loud, even over the cream of the large, wood-and-iron door behind her, “that, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster.”

The members of the Order of the Phoenix and those of the Rebel Alliance who weren’t Ahsoka walked in and stood in a line, and Ahsoka allowed her lips to curve into a small smile as she finished,

“And I’m afraid it’s quite extensive,”

She paused and looked at him with nothing but contempt in her eyes, picturing Sidious and Tarkin and Dooku and everyone else who’d thought her lesser due to her gender, her species, her age.

“How dare you stand where he stood?” She spat, channelling the anger she would usually release into the Force at those people into her carefully-prepared words.

“Tell them how it happened that night. Tell them how you looked him in the eye - a man who trusted you - and killed him.”

She paused to let him speak, but he said nothing, so she pushed him more.

“Tell them!”

Snape pulled out his wand, but, before he could do anything, McGonagall shoved Ahsoka out of his line of fire. She, the rest of the Alliance, and the Order all kept their wands out (and she and Luna kept a hand on their lightsabers), but it was clear that this Duel was going to be between McGonagall and Snape.

McGonagall sent wave after wave of fire at Snape, but he was able to deflect every time. The Carrow siblings were not so lucky when faced with the rebounds (Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at that. Snape might not be so devoted to Voldemort as he had lead them to believe).

Eventually, Snape was overpowered, and forced to flee through the window in the smoky black second form possessed by all Death Eaters. The room erupted into cheers, and Ahsoka smiled as she felt their jubilation fuelling hers in the Force.

Then, the lights that McGonagall had lit around the room went out.

“Ahsoka,” she thought she heard a hissing voice say, but that couldn’t be... right. Right?

Then, someone started screaming. A young brunette - probably a first-year, since Ahsoka didn’t recognise her. But, before she could offer the girl comfort, she stopped, and Paravati Patil - a Gryffindor in Ahsoka’s year - started to scream.

Before Ahsoka could reach her, the hissing voice returned, but addressing everyone.

“I know that many of you will want to fight.”

It said. Ahsoka knew that voice.


“Some of you may even think that to fight is wise. But this is folly.”

Ahsoka saw many of those around her sneer.

“Give me Ahsoka Potter.” He ordered. “Do this, and none shall be harmed.”

Ahsoka didn’t believe him. Voldemort wasn’t the sort to follow through on promises.

“Give me Ahsoka Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched.”

Voldemort paused for a moment to let that sink in before continuing.

“Give me Ahsoka Potter, and you shall be rewarded. You have one hour.”

Students shuffled away from Ahsoka, none willing to make that choice.

“If I go, Voldemort will kill me. And he has never seemed like the type to follow through on his promises.” She pointed out, and the hall froze. None wanted to be responsible for the death of an innocent - none wanted to die themselves, either.

At the Force’s prodding, she continued.

“To die for one’s people is a great sacrifice.” She admitted.

“To live for one’s people, an even greater sacrifice.”

Ahsoka paused, meeting every eye in the room.

“I choose to live for my people!” She told them. “What do you choose.”

“I choose to live, as well!” Ginny Weasley spoke up, and her voice was joined by many others as they voiced their agreement.

Then, Argus Filch burst in.

“Students out of bed!” He yelled. “Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!”

“They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot!” McGonagall snapped, and Filch stepped back, cowed.

“Oh,” was he could say. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help it; she laughed, bright and free. And other voices joined hers in her relief and hope.

They’d taken Hogwarts Castle.

Now they just had to hold it.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka laid out the plan she and the rest of the Rebel Alliance had created for the Castle’s defence on the floor of the Great Hall, and quickly talked them all through it. When someone asked why it wasn’t more detailed, she just told them,

“No plan survives first contact with the enemy.”

“Some of this will destroy large parts of the school,” McGonagall pointed out.

“This is a battle, Professor.” Ahsoka pointed out. “There will be lots of destruction anyway. All we can do is make it strategic.”

There were no more questions after that. Everyone just got up and got to work.


Neville walked another two meters down the wooden bridge, laid one of the explosive and incendiary bombs Ahsoka had given him on the floor, and levitated another out of the carrier on his back and into the structural supports below him.

Then he walked another two meters, and did the same.

And again.

Once he reached the end of the bridge, he dropped the carrier off the side and peered out into the dark. The detonator was a comfortable weight in his hand.

He only had one shot at this. And he’d take as many of the b*stards out as he could.


Minerva McGonagall walked with Filius Flitwick and Molly Weasley out into the main courtyard.

“You know we can’t keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely.” Filius pointed out, and Minerva sighed.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t delay him,” she noted as she turned around to face the school she’d taught at and loved for all of her adult life.

“And his name is Voldemort , Filius, you might as well use it - He’s going to try to kill you either way.”

She raised her wand.

Piertotum locomotor !” She cast, precisely as Ahsoka had suggested.

She watched with a small smile as the statues that decorated the school come to life and begin to march in formation toward the gates.

“Hogwarts is threatened!” She informed them. “Man the boundaries, protect us - do your duty to our school!”

She turned to the gaping Molly and whisper-yelled,

“I’ve always wanted to use that spell!”


Ahsoka watched with a smile as the shield being cast by the teachers went up. She didn’t know all the components of a shield generator the way she knew those of a bomb, and so couldn’t transfigure one, but what they were doing would be enough.

It would have to be enough.


Bellatrix watched her Master carefully as he sighed, staring at their old school.

“They never learn,” he commented, “such a pity.”

She wholeheartedly agreed with him. However much she enjoyed putting those not worthy of the magic in their veins in their places, there were many of pure (if traitorous) blood in that Castle who could be taught to accept the truth of their place in the world. But they had chosen to resist her Lord, so they would have to die.

Such a pity.

“M-My Lord,” one of the Death Eaters beside her spoke up, and Bellatrix turned to see what he had to say.

“Shouldn’t we wait?” He advised, and Bellatrix sneered. If their Lord said it was time to attack, they would.

This idiot would just have to suck up his cowardice and deal with it.

Her hypothesis on his reasons were proven as he stuttered out, barely loud enough to hear, “M-My Lord,” when the Dark Lord so much as looked at him.

Not bothering with words for the blithering coward, as he very well shouldn’t, her Lord turned back to face Hogwarts and ordered,


Bellatrix smiles gleefully and opened fire (after all, there were many purebloods there, but also many halfbloods and mudbloods. She would enjoy taking them down to their true place in the world).

[By this, she meant a mass grave, of course.]

Bellatrix smiled as her Lord sent a final blast at the shield - the most powerful of all of them (of course it was. He was Lord Voldemort, he was more powerful than anyone else - her included).

[Unbeknownst to anyone but Voldemort himself, the Elder Wand began to crack. However powerful It was, It refused to work for someone who wasn’t It’s Master. It would destroy Itself first.]


Neville watched the mass of Snatchers run down the hill toward him, reminding himself to hold firm. He needed to draw as many of them as possible into the bridge.

But the first three dissolved as they hit the shield.

Neville couldn’t help it. He laughed at the silent crowd of Snatchers.

“Yeah!” He taunted. Hey, if he wanted to get them all on the bridge, they had to want to chase him, right?


“You and whose army?!”

But, of course, all good things come to an end. The shield came down a few minutes later.

The Head Snatcher (Neville didn’t know his name) took a tentative step forward.

Nothing happened.

Neville suddenly felt far less confident.

With an almighty yell, the hoard of Snarchers bore down on him, and Neville ran for it.

He managed to stay a few meters ahead of the Snatchers and, the second his feet left the edge of the bridge, he pushed the trigger.

The bridge went down.

The Snatchers went with it.

Neville smiled at his friends on the end of the bridge, who’d been there for if the bombs failed.

“Well,” he commented as they ran to help defend other weak points.

“That went well.”


Ahsoka smiled. Even under attack, her former students were performing admirably, firing back at Death Eaters and working together cohesively, using a mixture of muggle and magical attacks that kept the Death Eaters on their toes.

“Neville!” She greeted as they (literally) bumped into each other.

“You alright?”

“Never better!” He told her. “I feel like I could spit fire.”

Ahsoka frowned. A battle-high, caused by adrenaline. Such things had gotten many of her shinies killed before.

She opened her mouth to tell him to be cautious, but he beat her to it.

“You haven’t seen Luna, have you?” He questioned, and Ahsoka frowned, searching for her padawan in the Force.

“She’s on the South Battlements,” she informed him. “Why?”

“I’m mad for ‘er!” He informed her gleefully, starting to run for the South Battlements.

“I think it’s about time I told her, since we’ll probably both be dead by dawn!”

Ahsoka sighed, shook her head, and ran for the thick of the fighting in the main entry courtyard.


Nagini peered up at her Master, who’d just killed one of the annoying non-Speakers. Still, this was odd behaviour for him, so she hissed an inquiry.

“Come, Nagini,” he told her, and she obediently slithered closed.

“I need to keep you safe,”

Voldemort apparated away, with a very confused Nagini in tow.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka blinked at the vision she’d just received. Voldemort was in the Boathouse with Snape and Nagini.

She ran through the courtyard from where she’d been holding the main entry archway, deflecting spells back at their senders. She ran underneath the legs of a giant and sliced at it’s legs, bringing it down behind her. She came upon several acromantulas and sliced them to shreds, before finding Fenrir Greyback feasting on Lavender Brown’s corpse.

She sent her shoto through his neck on behalf of her now-dead friend, and kept running.

She ran past the main bridge, but saw a horde of dementors bearing down on her.

The silvery imitation of Morai flew from her wand tip, her patronus driving them back.

She didn’t stop for anything other than to nod at a few of the other fighters - Aberforth included, she was glad to see - as she racked down the path at the side of the gate, toward the boathouse. She slid into the rafters and peered down at where Snape and Voldemort stood on the mooring area inside the house.

“You have performed extraordinary magic with this wand, my Lord, in the last few hours alone.” Snape pointed out, and Ahsoka had to agree with him, thinking back on Ollivander’s words when he’d sold her wand to her.

After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did a many great things. Terrible, yes, but great.

“No! The Dark Lord snapped, then again, quieter,

“No. I am extraordinary-“ Ahsoka nearly snorted. Conceited, much? “-but the wand... resists me.”


“There is no wand more powerful.” Snape pointed out.

“Ollivander himself has said it. Tonight, when the girl comes-“ Ahsoka frowned. That sounded like they wanted her to come fight Voldemort. But why? Surely it would be easier for one of the many members of Voldemort’s army to do it? “-it will not fail you. I am sure of it.”

Snape paused, and Ahsoka senses unease in his signature. Like he wasn’t entirely certain of what he was going to say.

Ahsoka leaned forward a little, intrigued.

“It answers to you, and you alone .”

Snape wasn’t certain of that, Ahsoka could tell. But who else did Snape think might be it’s Master? That information could be useful.

“Does it?” Voldemort hissed, and Ahsoka got the sensation of a raised eyebrow from him in the Force, even if he had no eyebrows to raise.

“My Lord?” Snape questioned, and Voldemort began to circle him, like a nexus stalking it’s prey.

“The wand.” Voldemort clarified, and Ahsoka sighed. Snape had been found out.

She could only hope that he survived long enough to tell her what he knew (she knew the thought was callous, but this was war. One less Death Eater meant less deaths on her side, and her recruits were younger).

“Does it truly answer to me?”

Snape did not reply.

“You’re a clever man, Severus. Surely you must know. Where does it’s true loyalty lie?”

Ahsoka shifted; her montrals were better at picking up sound than her ears.

“With you, of course. My Lord.”

Ahsoka could see Snape’s hands twisting behind his back. He was still lying.

“The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly... because I am not it’s true Master.” Voldemort informed Snape. “The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed it’s last owner.”

That’s interesting , Ahsoka thought, and sexist.

Then realisation hit her, and she thought, osik {sh*t} Snape killed Dumbledore, so he’s the wand’s Master.

So Voldemort was going to kill Snape.

She had no time to think any further on the matter as Voldemort laid it out for his subordinate.

“You killed Dumbledore, Severus. While you live, the Elder Wand cannot truly... be mine.”

The Dark Lord sighed, looking genuinely put out.

“You’ve been a good and faithful servant, Severus. But only I can live... forever.”

“My Lord-“ Snape tried, but Voldemort slashed his wand in what Ahsoka recognised from Snape’s book as a sectumsempra.

Crimson began to spread across the pale skin of the Headmaster’s neck.

The black-clad body smacked against the wall, thudding on the ground.

Ahsoka winced as the Dark Lord hissed,

“Nagini, kill!” And the snake bit into the Potions Master again and again. Ahsoka resisted the urge to hurl.

Ahsoka watched Voldemort and his familiar leave the boathouse before daring to swing down from the rafters, racing over to her dying potions teacher.

She might not have liked him in life - might not have wanted him to go on to threaten her family - but she could take his pain away into the Force.

Make his death a little easier.

She leaned forward, pulling off her fingerless grey glove - including the blue-striped armour plate covering the back of her hand - from her right hand and resting it on the injury, helping him release his pain into the Force. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“Take them,” he begged, voice blubbering at the blood filling his windpipe, a weak hand gesturing to his face.

“Take them.”

They weren’t tears, Ahsoka realised, but memories - the kind that one put in a pensive. She reached out with her left hand and levitated it off of his face, still keeping the pain off, offering him a small smile and a little comfort into the Force as he met her eyes.

“You have your mother’s eyes,” were the last word of Severus Snape.

Ahsoka stood up and ran for the Headmaster’s office. The pensive there would still be useable.

Hopefully, Snape’s last act would tell her everything she needed to know.


Hermione leaned against the wall where she had been fighting, the battle ceasing temporarily for Voldemort’s words to be heard.

“You have fought valiantly, but in vain,” the hissing voice whispered.

“I do not wish this,” Voldemort tried to explain,

“Every drop of magical blood spilt is a terrible waste,” Hermione hissed. The Dark Lord enjoyed such things - why else would He do what He did?

“I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity.” Hermione decided not to question their good fortune any further. She started to levitate the body beside her - a Hufflepuff first year she didn’t know - toward the Great Hall (where Ahsoka had told them to take their dead and wounded should they win), as Voldemort kept talking.

“Ahsoka Potter,” she heard Him say, “I now speak directly to you. This night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour.”

Hermione hissed. ‘Soka was no coward - she had seen her blonde friend fighting and taking down many Death Eaters on the front lines. Most of the enemy dead were as such due to lightsaber wounds.

“Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I will slaughter every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me.”

Hermione shivered. But she pulled herself together and got walking. She had a job to do.

She had lives to save.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka walked through the Great Hall, working with Luna to Heal those who would otherwise die. For those who would live anyway, they saved their strength.

She gave Sirius, who she had not seen except in battle for many months, a hug as she walked past him, simply basking in his Force-presence. But there was no time for words.

She kissed Remus and Tonks’ brows, wishing them a safe journey to the next world. She also helped Heal Fred, who had been injured, but saved (just) by Sirius’ intervention.

Once she had saved as many lives as she could, Ahsoka left the room to make her way to the Headmaster’s office. The pensive floated out unprompted, like it knew what she needed, and Ahsoka dropped the tears she had been levitating into the magical water, inky black swirling through sky blue.

Taking a deep breath, she let her head fall in.

A young redhead with blue eyes like Ahsoka’s, running from a blonde of about the same age.

“Freak! Come here! I’ll tell mummy, you’re a freak! You’re freaky! Come HERE !”

The black-haired, onyx-eyed boy who saves the redhead.

“She’s jealous. She’s ordinary, and you’re special.”

“That’s mean, Severus,”

A ragged hat on the auburn-haired girl’s head.


The redhead sat next to a brunette boy whose red-and-yellow tie matches hers.

“Hi, I’m James!”

“Hi, I’m Lily!”

The brunette boy knocking the redhead over, and the raven helping her pick them up.

“Just like your father! Lazy, arrogant-!”

“You don’t know anything about me,”

The brunette and the redhead, now adults, kissing as they dance.

Professor Trelawney, staring into a crystal ball.

“-and servant and master shall be reunited once more!”

Voldemort, stood before Professor Snape.


Pettigrew’s voice,

“Don’t kill me!“

Dumbledore’s office at night, with the late Headmaster stood before the Potions Master.

“The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a child born at the end of July.”

“Yes, but He think’s it’s her daughter! He intends to hunt them down, now, to kill them! Hide her. Hide them all. I beg you.”

“What will you give me in exchange, Severus?”


A destroyed house, the redhead’s voice whispering to her blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby girl.

“Ahsoka. Ahsoka, you are so loved. So loved . Ahsoka, mama loves you. Dada loves you. Ahsoka, be safe. Be strong.”

“Avarda Kedavra!”

The office again, this time in daylight.

“You were to keep her safe !”

“Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person, Severus. Rather like you.”

Dumbledore turns to face Snape.

“The girl survives .”

“She does not need protection, the Dark Lord is gone!”

“The Dark Lord will return! And when he does, the girl will be in terrible danger.”

A pause.

“She has her eyes. If you truly loved her-“

“No one can know.”

“I shall never reveal a destiny, Severus.”

Her own sorting, black tie turning red, the table of those matching standing up to cheer.

“And you risk your life every day to protect the girl.”

“She possesses no measurable talent, her arrogance rivals even that of her father, and she seems to relish in her fame.”

Herself, a little older, projecting the Jedi calm she’d worked so hard for even as she argued.

“You don’t know anything about me,”

“James Potter. Lazy, arrogant-“

“My father was a great man.”

“Your father was a swane!”

Dumbledore’s office once more, the older man calling the younger back.

“Don’t ignore me, Severus. We both know Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But, should he fail, I should presume the Dark Lord would turn to you.”

A pause of understanding and shock.

“You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It is the only way. Only then will the Dark Lord trust you completely.”

The astronomy tower, a grey-clad body falling from the heights.

“There will come a time when Ahsoka Potter must be told something. But you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable.”

“Must be told what?”

“On the night Voldemort went to Godric’s Hollow to kill Ahsoka, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded. When that happened, a part of Voldemort’s soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find. Ahsoka herself.

There is a reason Ahsoka can speak with snakes. There is a reason she can look into Lord Voldemort’s mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside her.”

“So, when the time comes, the girl must die?”

“Yes. Yes, she must die.”

“You’ve kept her alive so that she can die at the proper moment . You’ve been raising her like a pig for slaughter!”

“Don’t tell me now that you’ve grown to care for the girl?”

Snape says nothing, only casting a doe patronus that flew out of the window.

“Lily? After all this time?”


A pause.

“So, when the time comes, the girl must die?”

“Yes. Yes, she must die. And Voldemort himself must do it. That is essential.”

Ahsoka gasped as she surfaced once more, far to many thoughts in her head. She sat down quickly, sinking into a meditation pose.

When she surfaced, she knew things:

  1. She hated Dumbledore the way she’d hated Sidious for the pain he’d caused to her and others (everyone who’d Fallen since Maul was entirely the Emperor’s fault). But that hate would get her nowhere, so she let it go.
  2. Snape had been on their side all along, even if it were for the most selfish and hateful of reasons, and he’d hated her because she was the child of the woman he’d loved and the man he’d hated. He was small, and bitter, and not a good person, but he’d protected her, and that meant something.
  3. Dumbledore had believed that the horcrux she’d gotten rid of was why she knew of Voldemort’s movements, and not Force-visions.

She had been prepared to dismiss the whole idea of going to do, but then Morai had flown in, and landed on her arm. She stared at the bird in wonder as she remembered what the convoree was. What she was.

“I’m like you, aren’t I, Morai? Or, at least, I could be. And that’s the last step toward becoming like you, isn’t it? Face death without fear thrice to live eternally. Malachor, in Luke’s Temple, and now.”

The bird nodded, and chirped. Ahsoka thought it through.

On Mortis, the Son had Turned her, and then killed her, and the Daughter had given the last of her life force to bring Ahsoka back to life. She had the power of two of the Ones running through her veins.

Also, if she went at the end of her hour, her friends would have a longer break - more time to refill their magic and regain their strength. It might hurt them emotionally, but...

Ahsoka turned around, armoured boots silent on the stone.

This was what she was born to do. What she was born to be.

She would embrace it with open arms.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka looked down at the golden snitch in her hand. Morai had flown off just before she entered the woods, likely sensing that she wanted to do this alone.

She watched the words I open at the close carve themselves into the glimmering metal, and realised that whatever Dumbledore had put in there would be revealed to her now. Taking a deep breath, letting go of the last dregs of her denial, she whispered,

“I’m ready to die.”

She pressed her lips to the snitch, breath frosting the gold’s shine as she pulled away.

She watched it whirr and click before a tiny black stone - two square-based pyramids of obsidian stuck together at the base - floated out of the golden sphere.

“The Resurrection Stone,” she breathed. One of the three Deathly Hallows - her Cloak of Invisibility, this Stone, and Voldemort’s Wand.

Slowly, reverently, she closed her hand around it, eyes closed.

When she opened them once more, they were there - Bariss, Anakin, Padmé, Obi-Wan, Master Yoda, Master Plo, Trace, Rafa, Satine, Bo-Katan, Korkie, Rex, Cody, Fives, Echo, Lux, Ventress, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, her parents, Remus, Tonks.

She stared into her mother’s face, and felt tears prick at her eyes.

“You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.” The older woman breathed, and Ahsoka smiled at her through her tears.

“Why are you here?” Ahsoka questioned softly. “All of you?”

“We never left.” Bariss admitted softly.

“I forgive you, Bariss.” Ahsoka told her, quietly, but with an undertone of steel.

“You were right, even if your methods were wrong. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod {I know your name as my sibling - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

She turned, slightly, away from Bariss’ teart smile, to look at Masters Obi-Wan, Plo, and Yoda.

“And I forgive you, too. You always did your best, even if you went about it wrong. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’buire {I know your name as my parents - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

To her surprise, the three nodded, accepting, seeing their mistakes in death as they never had in life.

She faced the Martez sisters, tears pricking her eyes at their kind smiles.

“I fell in love with you, if only for a while, and, if not for the war and the Empire, I would have stayed with you until my death. But it was not to be. I’m so sorry that you died for me. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod {I know your name as my sibling - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

The pair smiled, Trace hugging her, Rafa hissing,

“Oh, What the hell - you too, not-Jedi,” affectionately. There wasn’t anything more that needed to be said.

She gave the Kryzes a smile - they had been her friends, and she had cared for them.

“I hope you find peace. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’aliit {I know your name as my family - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

The three of them looked surprised, but smiled, Satine and Bo-Katan returning,

Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod {I know your name as my sibling - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

While Korkie told her,

Ni kar'tayl gai sa’ba’vodu {I know your name as my parent’s sibling - Mandolorian adoption vow}.”

Then, she spoke to the four clones who were still hanging around her, who all looked so guilty, still - even Rex.

“I forgive you, for Order 66. It wasn’t you. It was Sidious. I’m only sorry we Jedi didn’t see it sooner. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod’e {I know your name as my siblings - Mandolorian adoption vow} .” The quartet looked shocked, and ecstatic, but quickly returned,

Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod {I know your name as my sibling - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

Then, she spoke to Lux and Ventress, telling them,

“Thank you, for everything that you did for me. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod’e {I know your name as my siblings - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

The pair smiled. Neither of them spoke Mando’a, but they understood nonetheless, Lux giving her a smile, Ventress (never one for sentimentality) telling her,

“Yeah, yeah, you too, I guess. Mother Talzin would have hated to have you as a Nightsister.”

Ahsoka laughed, then turned to Bail and Breha.

“Thank you,” she told them. “For giving me purpose again. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’ba’vodu’e {I know your name as my parent’s siblings - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

The pair smiled at her.

“It was an honour, Fulcrum.” Bail informed her softly.

With her parents, Remus, and Tonks, no more words needed to be said. A simple hug expressed all that she needed to tell them.

Finally, she approached Anakin and Padmé. They pulled her into their embrace, kissing her montral peaks softly.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so, so much. And, when the time comes, I’ll drive the Dagger of Mortis through my heart, and we’ll spend eternity together. But the living world needs me, at least for now.”

Padmé pulled back first, telling her,

“I love you, Ahsoka, because you put others above yourself. Because you fight for what is right, however high the cost. I would be disappointed if you came to us now.”

Ahsoka smiled into the kiss the brunette pressed to her lips, then Anakin followed suit.

“Go save this world, Snips.” He told her.

Before she could loose her nerve, she told them,

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde  {We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors - Mandalorian marriage vow} .”

The pair looked shocked for a split second, before their faces broke into wide smiles, and they replied,

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde  {We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors - Mandalorian marriage vow} .”

Ahsoka kisses them both on the lips, then stepped back with a sense of temporary finality.

“Does it hurt?” She asked them all, quietly. “Dying?”

“Quicker than falling asleep,” Trace smiled sadly  at her.

“You’re nearly there, my darling daughter.” Her father smiled at her sadly.

“I’m sorry,” she met the eyes of some of them (Trace, Rafa, Lux - who she knew had been interrogated on her whereabouts and been killed because they didn’t know - her parents, Remus, Tonks).

“I never wanted any of you to die, especially not for me. And Remus, your son-“

“Others will tell him what his mother and father died for.” Her old Professor told her.

“One day, he’ll understand.”

“You’ll stay with me?” Her voice was half-pleading, but she had to know.

“Until the end.” Anakin promised.

“And He won’t be able to see you.”

“No.” Padmé told her. “We’re here, you see.” She reached out a ghostly hand, an incorporeal finger reaching through real flesh to touch her heart.

“Stay close to me?” Ahsoka begged them, not caring if it was un-Jedi-like.

“Always.” Her mother promised.

“I love you.” Ahsoka told them. “All of you.”

She let the Resurrection Stone slip through her fingers, and the spectres disappeared.

But they were there. She could feel them.

Ahsoka cast a tempus , raised her chin, and walked to her death.


“I thought she would come.” Ahsoka heard the quiet, hissing voice admit softly. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the clearing, head held high as she met those eerie red eyes.

“‘Soka? No! What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” She heard Hagrid snap, and she held back a wince. She knew that what she was planning would hurt her friends, but it would be enough to get them more time.

She had to believe that.

“Quiet!” A Death Eater snapped at the half-giant.

“Ahsoka Potter,” Voldemort hissed, almost like he was tasting what her name sounded like on her tongue.

“The girl-who-lived, come to die?”

Ahsoka said nothing as the Dark Lord raised his wand, simply closing her eyes.

Avarda Kedavra !”

The last thing she saw was a flash of brilliant green.

Chapter Text

Ahsoka opened her eyes to the bright blue skies of the Mortis day. She jerked upright, and found herself in the arena where Anakin had once proved himself.

Slowly, she got to her feet, watching as the sky cycled from night to day, but far slower than before. She raised her left arm to allow Morai to land on her left, but then saw a dark snake with glowing red eyes slither along the floor. She bent down to meet his eyes.

“Don’t bite me again.” She ordered as she reached out her right hand so that the Son could coil around her arm.

“I’m supposed to balance the pair of you now, aren’t I?” She asked softly. She now realised her, Anakin and Obi-Wan’s folly on Mortis.

The Son and the Daughter could not die. Did the Light or the Dark ever die? But the Balance could die, and that fact had sent the Galaxy into chaos for the Empire. She would bet almost anything that the Balance-holder had died every time there was a Galaxy-wide conflict.

Ahsoka took a deep breath.

“Am I allowed to go back? Can I save them?”

They don’t speak - they can’t, in these forms - but Ahsoka still managed to feel their answer anyway.


“I don’t want to be an authority figure for you.” She told them, quietly.

“I don’t want to be a ruler, like the Father was. Ni kar'tayl gai sa’vod’e {I know your name as my siblings - Mandolorian adoption vow} .”

She let the Daughter fly away, and held still so that the Son might slither off to his own home.

Then she closed her eyes, and all that she saw was white.


Narcissa strode over to Ahsoka Potter’s body. She might be defying her Lord for this - might die for this - but she had to know.

Just let Draco live. Please, if there is a God, let my son live.

She used her sister’s hissed,

“The girl? Is she dead?” As an excuse to lean over the shifted girl’s prone form. Narcissa felt her cousin’s heartbeat and whispered, voice barely above a breath,

“Is he alive? Draco - is he alive?”

[Ahsoka reached out with the Force, searching for her almost-friend’s Force-signature.]

So softly that it was almost imperceptible, the seventeen-year-old nodded, and the older woman stood up gracefully, maintaining her calm as best she could, even over the instinct to cry and yell in relief. Her upbringing as a Daughter of the Ancient and Noble House of Black helped her keep up an emotionless masked as she proclaimed, voice even and disaffected,



“Ahsoka Potter is dead!”

Neville didn’t believe Voldemort’s gleeful words - at least, not at first. But then he saw the limp body in Hagrid’s arms (still shifted into her animagus form), and he froze. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sirius Black collapsing against a pile of rubble in the dilapidated entrance courtyard.

“Ahsoka Potter... is dead.” The Dark Lord continued to the silent and shocked crowd of student-soldiers, Order of the Phoenix members, and the four remaining of ‘Soka’s ‘Rebel Alliance’.

“From this day forth,” the Dark Lord proclaimed, “You put your faith... in me.”

Neville shook his head. He would rather die before submitting to Voldemort. He felt that one of the things ‘Soka had said while running the D.A. fit well with this situation.

I would rather die as a rebel than live as a slave.

The Dark Lord turned to his followers and yelled,

“Ahsoka Potter is dead!”

They laughed cackling, gleeful laughs, and Neville’s face twisted in disgust, especially when Voldemort added his own mocking laugh, easily heard over all the rest.

“He hehe - and now is the time to declare yourselves. Come forward and join us... or die.”

“Draco,” Lucius Malfoy hissed, in what, under no circumstances, could Neville consider a quiet voice. The man stretched out a hand, like he could pull his son to him if only he could reach far enough.


After a half-minute of no one moving, Malfoy Jr. stepped forward and joined the ranks of the Death Eaters, looking supremely awkward as Voldemort hugged him in thanks, but relaxing more as his mother embraced him and pulled him to the back of the crowd, disappearing into the throng.

[What Draco Malfoy would never tell anyone, as long as he lived, was that he heard Ahsoka’s voice in his mind in that moment, whispering, Draco, your mother wants to get you out. She wants you to be safe . Go to her, for her sake. He would never know if he was imaging things or not, but he didn’t ever dwell on it.

It wasn’t his way.]

Neville took a deep breath, found the long-buried courage the Sorting Hat had put him in Gryffindor for, and limped forward.

“Well, I must say I’d hoped for better.”

Neville ignored the laughing Death Eaters. For too long, he’d been told that he’d been less than his parents. For too long, he’d been called squib and unworthy and lesser because he preferred Herbology to D.A.D.A., because his magic wasn’t offensive, because he’d shown signs of magic late.

No more.

“And who might you be, young man?” Voldemort asked him. Neville met his chilling red eyes, raised his chin.

“Neville Longbottom.”

The Death Eaters laughed again - Bellatrix Lestrange was particularly loud - but Neville kept his gaze steady as the shaken Dark Lord managed to get out,

“Well, Neville, I’m sure we can find a place for you in our ranks-“

“I’d like to say something.” Neville cut in. Voldemort sneered at the interruption, but spat out sarcastically,

“Well, Neville, I’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

“It doesn’t matter that ‘Soka’s gone.” He proclaimed, and he knew that he was right. She had always said that she wasn’t the only one who could be a leader, a hero. So, when Seamus told him,

“Stand down, Neville.” He spat back,

“People die every day.”

He would not be silenced. He would say what needed to be heard.

Searching for the truth is easy. Accepting the truth is hard.

“Friends, family... yeah. We lost ‘Soka tonight. But she’s still with us! In here!”

Neville pressed a hand to his heart as he turned to face those who he had fought beside fully.

“So’s Remus... Tonks... all of them.” He met their eyes, one by one, as he proclaimed,

“They didn’t die in vain.”

He turned back around, meeting the man who was the reason he’d never known his parents, and, even as the Dark Lord began to laugh, he spat,

“But you will! ‘Cause you’re wrong ! ‘Soka’s heart did beat for us! For all of us! And it’s not over!”

The shink that echoed through the courtyard when Neville pulled the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat, where he’d hidden it just before the confrontation, covered the sound of scrabbling coming from the girl in Hagrid’s arms.

Ahsoka wasn’t as dead as they’d believed.

“Neville’s right, Tom. The world is full of the ashes of empires that thought they were eternal. It won’t be long before yours joins them.”

Neville knew that his part wasn’t over yet, though. There was one last thing he needed to do.

The Sword of Gryffindor sliced through the neck of Nagini, who burst into black ash and memory.

Chapter Text

Sirius barely noticed the death of Voldemort’s last horcrux, and the screech that it caused him to release. He only had eyes for his goddaughter and Heiress, who had, miraculously, survived the killing curse for the second time in her life.

Voldemort was angrily spitting fire at her, and she was bending it away from herself and toward the crowd of Death Eaters. He didn’t even notice his cousin dragging her son and husband away from the battle because he was so focused on Ahsoka.

At least, until her voice cut through his confusion.

“Get back to the Great Hall! Protect the injured!”

Sirius snapped out of his daze and started firing spells. He had a battle to win.

He could yell at his goddaughter later. Because they had a later, now.

And that would be enough.


Ahsoka’s lightsabers flashed forward and back as she deflected Voldemort’s rapid-fire spells. She tried to back up the stairs - to draw him away from the rest of the battle - but he apparated behind her. She had just enough time to snap her lightsabers to her belt and throw her arms forward, catching the streaming killing curse between her hands like the Daughter had once caught the Son’s lightning.

In an effort to break the stalemate, she redirected the stream toward the roof, hitting the ceiling and causing it to collapse, separating them.

Ahsoka barely had a second to catch her breath before Voldemort apparated onto another one of the staircases. She jumped off mere seconds before he blew up the ground she had been stood on, landing in a crouch on yet another set of stairs on the floor.

They kept fighting up the school, before Voldemort collapsed the wooden walkway she was stood on. As she got her bearings, he wandlessly sent out his cloak and tried to grab her as she sliced it back with her lightsabers.


In the Great Hall below, Molly Weasley watched in horror as Bellatrix Lestrange cursed her daughter. She climbed up to the insane witch’s level and spat,

Not my daughter, you b*tch!”

The Black witch cackled gleefully up until the second she knew she was going to die. Her face contorted in horror, and then, seconds later, she was nothing more than black silk shreds on the wind.

Bellatrix Lestrange should not have underestimated the strength of a mother’s love.


Ahsoka fought Voldemort along the iron-fenced wooden walkways, lightsaber against spells.

“You were right,” she stated, trying to distract her opponent as Obi-Wan had taught her.

“When you told Professor Snape that wand was failing you - it will always fail!”

Voldemort lashed out again, and Ahsoka stepped back, deflecting.

“I killed Snape!” He spat, and she backed away slowly until she  was right on the edge of the precipice, and he was a mere foot or two in front of her.

Well, at least her distraction had worked. They had paused their fighting.

“But what if the wand never belonged to Snape? What if it’s allegiance was always to someone else?”

She paused, staring into those hateful red eyes and feeling nothing but pity.

“Come on, Tom. Let’s finish this the way we started.” She grabbed either side of his face in a vice-like grip.


As one, they plummeted off the tower, speeding toward the rocky ground below.


In a trail of black smoke, they flew together, tearing at each other with well-aimed fists and feet and knees and elbows and nails. Both of them knew that to kill the other was to fall from the heights and die themselves (at least, in Voldemort’s case. Ahsoka would live, but it would still be awfully painful, and likely leave her incapacitated for a good while), but neither cared, so long as the other fell with them.

Eventually, they crashed to the earth in that central courtyard, landing several meters apart on the bloodied cobblestones.

Ahsoka scrambled to her feet as the Dark Lord scrambled for his wand.

A jet of green light met the togruta’s hands, which absorbed it. Then pushed it back towards it’s creator.

Ahsoka watched shock and horror spread over Voldemort’s face as the Killing Curse reentered the Elder Wand, and it flipped out of his grasp and into hers.

Ahsoka ran forward and grabbed the bald, hateful face. Energy crackled out of them, filling the courtyard. This place would be a centre of magical power for centuries to come after what Ahsoka had forced out of Tom and into the world around them.

Then she stepped back, staring at that screaming, twisted form of a man who used to be a boy who just wanted to be better than those who came before him.

“I’m sorry.” She breathed. “I’m so, so sorry. The Wizarding World failed you, and I’m so, so sorry.”

She took a deep breath.

“But I’ll make it better. We won’t fail anyone else like we failed you. I promise .”

Chapter Text

Voldemort died of his injuries in St. Mungo’s two days later. It wasn’t that the lightsaber burns on his body were life-threatening - in fact, because they were cauterised immediately, he’d had a fairly good chance of surviving long enough to face the Wizengamot. But he lost the will to live without his magic, and succumbed to his wounds.

Many people died in what would become known as the Battle of Hogwarts - Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Lupin-Tonks, Lavender Brown, and Collin Creevy, to name a few. But many more lived.

Hermione, who’d fought back-to-back with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan to defeat Dolohov; Luna, who’d defended and worked to Heal the wounded with Astoria Greengrass, Susan Bones, and Ernie McMillan; Cedric, who’d worked with Sirius to take down Yaxley; Neville Longbottom, who’d killed Voldemort’s last horcrux and taken out Rodolphus Lestrange with the help of the Patil twins; Ron Weasley, who’d utterly destroyed Avery with the aid of Terry Boot, Tracey Davis and Sue Li; Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, who’s taken down Rastaban Lestrange; and Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass, who’s sheltered first-years and got them out of the battle.

Ahsoka knew that rebuilding would take a long time. Ernie McMillan has lost a leg; Sue Li’s right eye was gone; Millicent Bulstrode was hideously burned. But they had survived, all of them, to do that rebuilding.

And, to them, that was all that mattered.


Two years after the battle, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas got married, Dean becoming Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts and Seamus working in the ‘explosive product development’ section of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. They adopted an abused muggleborn boy and raised him in the light and joy of Hogwarts, making him the darling of the the students.

As had been contracted when they were just children, Draco Malfoy married Astoria Greengrass. What had not been planned by their parents was Ginny Weasley, who they had both fallen in love with, joining their union. Draco became a respected Potions Master and taught the subject at Hogwarts, Ginny worked as a Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies (and even played for England several times), and Astoria stayed at home to care for their three children - a girl and a boy, biologically Astoria’s, and another girl, biologically Ginny’s.

Luna and Hermione got an apartment together in London - never marrying, but living and loving together nonetheless. Luna worked as a magizoologist, and Hermione became the first muggleborn Minister for Magic, both helping those who needed it in their own ways.

Neville married Hannah Abbot, taking over the ‘Herbology’ and ‘Head of Gryffindor’ positions at Hogwarts while his wife ran the Leaky Cauldron, raising their son together with Dean and Seamus’.

Susan Bones became Lady of House Bones and married Cedric Diggory, working together to open an orphanage for magical children once it became clear that they could not have children of their own flesh and blood.

Paravati Patil never truly got over Lavender’s death - never found love again - but fulfilled their wish of opening a beauty salon, living in the flat above it with Padma, who took over the Patil Ladyship and helping make change in the Wizengamot (as an asexual aromantic, Padma never had children of her own, instead blood-adopting a girl from the Bones-Diggory orphanage to be her heiress).

Ron Weasley married Tracey Davis, making keeper for the Chudley Cannons and leading them to a series of national wins the likes of which they hadn’t seen in a century, playing beside his sister on the England team several times. Tracey, meanwhile, became a respected Healer, saving many lives at St. Mungo’s hospital. They had seven children together - three girls and four boys.

Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott married long after the rest had settled down, Theodore choosing to become an Unspeakable and Blaise taking a role of househusband to care for their two adopted boys and using their combined seats in the Wizengamot to do good.

Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson’s wedding was a small affair, the blonde DADA Professor marrying the dark-haired Mind Healer in a quiet ceremony. They, too, adopted a little girl from the Bones-Diggory orphanage.

And what of Ahsoka?

Well, she never shifted back into human form again, and could often be seen in the Ministry for magic with a green-and-white, owl-like bird perched on her left shoulder and a black-scaled, red-eyed snake coiled around her right arm.

She became the youngest Head of the Auror Office ever, using her influence as Lady Potter, Heiress Black and the Girl-Who-Lived-Twice to reform the judicial practices of Magical Britain, removing pro-pureblood, anti-muggleborn, and anti-creature prejudices in the legal system, as well as reforming attitudes towards mental health issues and child abuse.

She took up the Black seat on the Hogwarts Board of Govenors (since her godfather was far too busy wrangling the conservatives in the Wizengamot to deal with Hogwarts, too), working to alter the school system to include important muggle classes like English, Maths, Science, and Modern Foreign Languages. She also set up a system for spotting abused children and rehousing them, and made both Muggle Studies (an updated version that was actually accurate) and Magical Culture mandatory.

For centuries to come, she was known as the woman who not only saved Magical Britain, but remade it better than it was before.

She never married (as far as the general populous knew, at least), naming her godbrother - little Theodore ‘Teddy’ Lupin - as her heir. And, when she felt that the Magical World was stood on it’s feet enough to keep itself strong - with a whole host of people who genuinely wanted to help in positions of power, and Sirius was gone and Teddy was old enough to be Lord Black-Potter in his own right - she disappeared back to Mortis, guarding the balance with the ghosts of her family for centuries to come.

And, when another came to Mortis - one she trusted to guard the balance well and justly, who had no ties to those living in the outside world and nothing left to loose - she gladly took the Dagger of Mortis to her heart.

After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure.