Harry Potter and The Force from Long Ago
by
BlindJedi
Rating: R
Summary: After the disastrous end to his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry is having disturbing dreams. When we join him here, his dreams are about to change leading him to discover something within himself that he never dreamed could exist. Between nightmares and feelings of guilt, Harry begins to train to his full potential, which, as Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, would be the first to admit, no one knows just what those limits are.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns it all, at least all of the Harry Potter universe. I think you will quickly realize who owns the rest. I am borrowing everything just to play around a little and hopefully write something that people will enjoy reading. Of course, any characters that I do write in as my own I will claim.
Author's Notes:
I am bound and determined to finally write this dratted story that has been floating around in my mind for nearly a year. I am writing it because I think it is wailing, yelling, kicking, and screaming to be written. Any reviews you submit will be greatly appreciated, however, while I may enjoy reading your suggestions, I must tell you that I write to please myself. If you enjoy it, all the better. Also, when I write, you will not see any responses to reviews in the body of the story itself. I strongly dislike opening a story which says it is 60,000 words long only to realize that a good twenty per cent of the story is actually just the author responding to reviews. I will, of course, be more than happy to respond to reviews; however, I will do so in a review of my own.
As far as ships go, I do not nor ever will right H/G or R/HR. Neither of those couples' personalities match as is quite apparent from all characterizations that you read in J. K.'s books. Hermione is smart and level headed; Ron is a hothead who never takes time to stop and think before he acts and is blinded by his own prejudices. Harry is a leader who is always in the center of action; Ginny doesn't possess the intelligence necessary to be of proper support to Harry's quality traits. Besides, she only knows him as "The Boy who Lived" and has the hots for the famous boy, not Harry as a person. That is my firm belief. So, that leaves H/Hr which this story will end up being. However, you will see H/various before it gets to H/Hr.
Okay, I think I've rambled enough. Sorry if I've bored you already. This will probably be the only author's note that you will see from me in the story unless something comes up that I can not avoid saying. With all of that said, enjoy, review, and may the Force be with you.
Oh, and {.. .. ..} denotes dream speech.
___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___
Chapter One
The Dream that Was Different
___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___
He was dreaming.
Even before the familiar sight of the graveyard swam in to view, he knew what it would be. It had been the same, after all, for the past three weeks.
Powerless to stop it, he again watched as Cedric Diggory, his fellow student from Hogwarts, was murdered before his eyes. He watched helplessly as Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, his parents' former friend and the person who betrayed them to their deaths, brought the evil Lord Voldemort back to life using blood from Harry's arm and one of his, Wormtail's, own hands. He watched with detached interest as Voldemort ordered that his wand be returned to him so that they could duel. But before the actual duel began, something happened that had not happened before.
The scene switched.
Color bled from the graveyard and all of the objects there seemed to ripple and tear. When the world righted itself once again, Harry found himself in a medium sized cavern which, by the sound, appeared to be behind a waterfall. From the cold which seemed to permeate his bones, he guessed that either where they were it was winter or that they were somewhere in the far north or south of the earth.
He was given little time to ponder this as a high, cruel voice drew his attention to the back of the cavern where a fire was lit. Next to the fire, an enormous green snake was coiled seemingly asleep. He was only slightly surprised to see it was the same snake that had been present in the graveyard. Nagini, Voldemort had called it. Only the occasional flicking of its tongue and low hissing indicated that it was wide awake and ready to strike at a microsecond's notice. Next to the fire as well, there was a large chunk of stone seeming to resemble a roughly-hewn throne. And on the throne, splendidly attired in the dark shadows that seemed to cover him constantly like a cloak, sat Tom Marvolo Riddle, the monster more commonly known as Lord Voldemort.
Harry had time to be grateful that the glowing red slits that Voldemort used for eyes were not focused on him before the monster spoke.
{What of your success, Wormtail?}
Harry swiveled his eyes to the ground in front of the throne to see a short, balding man kneeling on the ground, a look of abject terror imprinted on his face. IT was Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail.
{As I t-told you, M-My L-L-Lord, I know where the bo-bo-boy's family lives. However, as you y-yourself said, I could n-n-not get past the wards and his guardians do not allow him to l-leave the yard}
{So, you have no good news for me, Wormtail. I am disappointed, of course, but never expected a weak pathetic creature like you would be able to carry out such a simple task anyway. CRUCIO!}
Harry's face contorted in anticipation of the horrid screams that he was awaiting from Wormtail, but they never came. Instead, some unseen force seemed to lift him from the ground and send him tumbling through the air; seemingly through time and space itself.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer being a silent observer in Voldemort's lair, but was instead a silent observer to another conversation. From what he could make of his surroundings, he was in floating in a void, yet it was not dark. A steady golden glow lit up the surrounding area, but no detail could be revealed. However, he was given no time to contemplate his situation any further.
Voices were speaking, and Harry found himself captivated by what seemed to be an argument taking place.
{Dangerous, this is. Afford to interfere in the lives of other galaxies and times we can not. The Force forbids it.}
{But why does the Force forbid it, Master? Surely, you aren't' going to use that argument that he is too old and too set in his ways to learn the ways of the Force!
{Adventure and excitement, the boy craves not. A good sign this is. But never before have we assisted someone from another galaxy. No one will there be to help him on the physical plain.}
{Besides, he is too old.} This was a third voice.
{Ah, c'mon off it, Master Windu. That old fashion belief died out long ago. Just look at what Luke has done with the new Jedi. He doesn't even accept them below the age of sixteen.} This was yet another voice.
{You are right, young Anakin. Your son has indeed evolved the Jedi's ways and beliefs from our own. Yet, you could have phrased your argument differently and with slightly more tact.} There was a smile in the older man's voice.
Before the argument could continue, Harry found himself again experiencing the sensation of being swept away, but this time when he opened his eyes, he did so for real. Groggily, he sat up in his small cramped bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive, wondering what in the heck was going on, and why there seemed to be a tangible presence hovering tantalizingly on the edge of his conscious awareness, close enough to sense, but not close enough to touch.
TBC
by
BlindJedi
Rating: R
Summary: After the disastrous end to his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry is having disturbing dreams. When we join him here, his dreams are about to change leading him to discover something within himself that he never dreamed could exist. Between nightmares and feelings of guilt, Harry begins to train to his full potential, which, as Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, would be the first to admit, no one knows just what those limits are.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns it all, at least all of the Harry Potter universe. I think you will quickly realize who owns the rest. I am borrowing everything just to play around a little and hopefully write something that people will enjoy reading. Of course, any characters that I do write in as my own I will claim.
Author's Notes:
I am bound and determined to finally write this dratted story that has been floating around in my mind for nearly a year. I am writing it because I think it is wailing, yelling, kicking, and screaming to be written. Any reviews you submit will be greatly appreciated, however, while I may enjoy reading your suggestions, I must tell you that I write to please myself. If you enjoy it, all the better. Also, when I write, you will not see any responses to reviews in the body of the story itself. I strongly dislike opening a story which says it is 60,000 words long only to realize that a good twenty per cent of the story is actually just the author responding to reviews. I will, of course, be more than happy to respond to reviews; however, I will do so in a review of my own.
As far as ships go, I do not nor ever will right H/G or R/HR. Neither of those couples' personalities match as is quite apparent from all characterizations that you read in J. K.'s books. Hermione is smart and level headed; Ron is a hothead who never takes time to stop and think before he acts and is blinded by his own prejudices. Harry is a leader who is always in the center of action; Ginny doesn't possess the intelligence necessary to be of proper support to Harry's quality traits. Besides, she only knows him as "The Boy who Lived" and has the hots for the famous boy, not Harry as a person. That is my firm belief. So, that leaves H/Hr which this story will end up being. However, you will see H/various before it gets to H/Hr.
Okay, I think I've rambled enough. Sorry if I've bored you already. This will probably be the only author's note that you will see from me in the story unless something comes up that I can not avoid saying. With all of that said, enjoy, review, and may the Force be with you.
Oh, and {.. .. ..} denotes dream speech.
___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___
Chapter One
The Dream that Was Different
___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___
He was dreaming.
Even before the familiar sight of the graveyard swam in to view, he knew what it would be. It had been the same, after all, for the past three weeks.
Powerless to stop it, he again watched as Cedric Diggory, his fellow student from Hogwarts, was murdered before his eyes. He watched helplessly as Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, his parents' former friend and the person who betrayed them to their deaths, brought the evil Lord Voldemort back to life using blood from Harry's arm and one of his, Wormtail's, own hands. He watched with detached interest as Voldemort ordered that his wand be returned to him so that they could duel. But before the actual duel began, something happened that had not happened before.
The scene switched.
Color bled from the graveyard and all of the objects there seemed to ripple and tear. When the world righted itself once again, Harry found himself in a medium sized cavern which, by the sound, appeared to be behind a waterfall. From the cold which seemed to permeate his bones, he guessed that either where they were it was winter or that they were somewhere in the far north or south of the earth.
He was given little time to ponder this as a high, cruel voice drew his attention to the back of the cavern where a fire was lit. Next to the fire, an enormous green snake was coiled seemingly asleep. He was only slightly surprised to see it was the same snake that had been present in the graveyard. Nagini, Voldemort had called it. Only the occasional flicking of its tongue and low hissing indicated that it was wide awake and ready to strike at a microsecond's notice. Next to the fire as well, there was a large chunk of stone seeming to resemble a roughly-hewn throne. And on the throne, splendidly attired in the dark shadows that seemed to cover him constantly like a cloak, sat Tom Marvolo Riddle, the monster more commonly known as Lord Voldemort.
Harry had time to be grateful that the glowing red slits that Voldemort used for eyes were not focused on him before the monster spoke.
{What of your success, Wormtail?}
Harry swiveled his eyes to the ground in front of the throne to see a short, balding man kneeling on the ground, a look of abject terror imprinted on his face. IT was Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail.
{As I t-told you, M-My L-L-Lord, I know where the bo-bo-boy's family lives. However, as you y-yourself said, I could n-n-not get past the wards and his guardians do not allow him to l-leave the yard}
{So, you have no good news for me, Wormtail. I am disappointed, of course, but never expected a weak pathetic creature like you would be able to carry out such a simple task anyway. CRUCIO!}
Harry's face contorted in anticipation of the horrid screams that he was awaiting from Wormtail, but they never came. Instead, some unseen force seemed to lift him from the ground and send him tumbling through the air; seemingly through time and space itself.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer being a silent observer in Voldemort's lair, but was instead a silent observer to another conversation. From what he could make of his surroundings, he was in floating in a void, yet it was not dark. A steady golden glow lit up the surrounding area, but no detail could be revealed. However, he was given no time to contemplate his situation any further.
Voices were speaking, and Harry found himself captivated by what seemed to be an argument taking place.
{Dangerous, this is. Afford to interfere in the lives of other galaxies and times we can not. The Force forbids it.}
{But why does the Force forbid it, Master? Surely, you aren't' going to use that argument that he is too old and too set in his ways to learn the ways of the Force!
{Adventure and excitement, the boy craves not. A good sign this is. But never before have we assisted someone from another galaxy. No one will there be to help him on the physical plain.}
{Besides, he is too old.} This was a third voice.
{Ah, c'mon off it, Master Windu. That old fashion belief died out long ago. Just look at what Luke has done with the new Jedi. He doesn't even accept them below the age of sixteen.} This was yet another voice.
{You are right, young Anakin. Your son has indeed evolved the Jedi's ways and beliefs from our own. Yet, you could have phrased your argument differently and with slightly more tact.} There was a smile in the older man's voice.
Before the argument could continue, Harry found himself again experiencing the sensation of being swept away, but this time when he opened his eyes, he did so for real. Groggily, he sat up in his small cramped bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive, wondering what in the heck was going on, and why there seemed to be a tangible presence hovering tantalizingly on the edge of his conscious awareness, close enough to sense, but not close enough to touch.
TBC