(Tellemicus's Note) Well, as they say, third time's the charm, right? Let's hope this is the one that'll go right! As with the previous rewrite (Resurgence of Sorcery), this is just another version of The Lightsaber. Fiori75 and I are taking what ideas worked in the original story while combining them into a new story that'll have a similar but completely different plot. Of course, since I quite liked how Resurgence had started out (with Harry figuring out how to 'realistically' make his lightsaber), we'll keep most of Resurgence's early stuff.

The reason for this third rewrite is quite simple. Resurgence had quickly become WAY too big and complex! At least, what we had planned for it. Like a massive continental magical calamity that quickly causes a complete rebuilding of human society, first within the magical world but rapidly branching out into the muggle world, with dozens of different factions each vying for their own slice of the pie or just trying to survive. And all of triggered by a powerful ritual gone wrong due to Harry's survival instinct kicking in. Like I said, it was WAY TOO BIG to reasonably write, and it would've broken away completely from canon and ventured into the realms of being a pure fiction rather than fanfiction.

Anyway, without further ado, may I present…

Jedi Order: The Origins
By: Tellemicus Sundance
Co-Authored by: Fiori75
#01 – A New Weapon

June 23, 1994
Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey

"—luminous beings are we! Not this crude matter!" Yoda explained to the exhausted and forlorn Luke. "You must feel the Force around you. Between you, me, the trees, the rocks, everywhere! Even between the land and the ship."

Harry's expression was every bit as thoughtful as the one on Luke's face as he watched the old film play on Dudley's new telly. It was early in the day and it was already proving to be one of the best of the summer already in Harry's opinion. For today, he had the house all to himself. This was a very rare occurrence that had happened due to several factors lining themselves up just right for Harry.

The first being that it was his dearly beloved cousin's birthday and his relatives had decided to spend the day in London, doing all manner of activities that Dudley deemed fun, accompanied by his gang of friends. And this directly led into the second reason of why Harry was left at home. Neither Dudley, his parents, nor his friends had wanted Harry around on this special day for their very special boy. However, because of a lie the Dursleys themselves had created and spread around several years ago, none of the neighbors were willing to look after a boy who was apparently attending the 'St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys'. Harry had found it indelibly ironic how that lie came back to bite them in the arse now. And the final nail in the coffin was that Harry's usual babysitter, Ms. Figg, had suddenly come down with a bad illness just a few days prior. So, with strict warnings to not break anything, cause any kind of 'freakish things' to happen, to not set foot outside or be seen through the windows by the various neighbors, and to not touch even a pinch of food, Harry was allowed to stay behind.

Only minutes after the car had pulled away from the driveway and disappeared around the corner, Harry had immediately gone upstairs and started rifling through his cousin's things. It wasn't because he wanted to steal anything. It wasn't that he was looking for anything in particular. Or even because he wanted just a tiny bit of vengeance for all the times that Dudley had barged in on him for any number of reasons while they were younger. No, the reason that Harry had gone into his cousin's room was because he had always had a lot of interesting toys and knickknacks which were old birthday presents that were left discarded, unused, and forgotten. Once, that giant pile of 'trash' had been stored in what was now Harry's bedroom. But with Harry's relocation and the cupboard beneath the stairs being too small, Dudley had been forced to either throw away a lot of that stuff or move it into his own room. And while Dudley had childishly tried to hold onto as much as he could because it was his, in the end he had been forced to sort through it and only keep what actually struck his fancy. Normally, Harry would have gone digging through his own school things, work on his summer assignments, and review old material, but such things just hadn't had much appeal to him today. Plus, he'd finished his summer assignments just a few days after he'd left Hogwarts anyway.

As he'd sorted through the different comics and browsed the large bookcase that was overflowing with video cassettes instead of books, one particular film trilogy had caught his eye. He'd heard of it at primary school growing up, it was impossible to not have given how popular it was. Still, he had never been allowed to watch it since (as he now guessed) his aunt and uncle had feared that the sight of 'space magic' might give him some ideas about his own freakishness.

"I would love to have been a Jedi," Harry said quietly to his dear owl friend, Hedwig, who had been nestled comfortably on his shoulder for the duration of the two films thus far. "Being able to travel, help people, use magic without a wand, fight bad guys with laser swords! How fun and exciting it must be!"

He watched in horrified fascination as the truth of Luke's past and heritage was revealed to him. The battle between the fallen father and the young son had been so incredible, it really showed just how incredibly strong and talented Luke was in the Force to have been able to almost match his dark nemesis after so little training. But Harry had been horrified at how Vader had cut off the hand of his own son in a fit of rage before finally calming down. Harry had been far from surprised when Luke rejected Vader's proposal of joining forces with him to finish his Force training, kill the Emperor, and rule the galaxy. Honestly, Harry would've most assuredly done the same thing. Maybe not dropping himself down a chasm as Luke did to escape Vader, but he'd still have tried to escape in some manner.

Ejecting the cassette after it finished playing, Harry quickly switched it with the final episode of the trilogy. As the tape started rewinding to the beginning, he sat back against the side of Dudley's bed as he started thinking and daydreaming. He saw visions of himself standing tall atop his own spaceship as his friends inside it flew it slowly through the air, the winds sending his dark clothes and cloak billowing, with him wielding a blue lightsaber in one hand as he prepared to jump aboard a nearby flying battleship. It was a grand image that stuck strongly in his mind, putting a wide and yearning smile on his face.

'I wish I could be like that in real life.' As that thought passed through his head, a seed had been planted. He knew it, he could feel it. He wasn't sure what it was, only that it was important. It was as he was watching the scene of Luke standing over the Sarlacc Pit, about to be executed by Jabba the Hutt, and Artoo launching a lightsaber into the air towards him that the seed started to grow. But it was with the ignition of Luke's new green lightsaber and of him deflecting blaster bolts with it in the ensuing fight that caused the sprouting seed to suddenly bloom into all its glory.

"I could make a lightsaber!" he gasped out, jerking forward slightly as his eyes widened in excited realization. He was no longer truly paying as much attention to the film anymore, his mind racing faster than his Firebolt at the possibilities, needed magical requirements, and the technicalities of how he could build it.

Stopping only long enough to shut down the VCR and telly, Harry was fast to vacate Dudley's room and rush to his own, Hedwig hooting indignantly as she struggled to maintain her perch on his shoulder. Once he was back in his room, she was quick to leap off and make her way back into her open cage. Not that Harry noticed as he was already digging through his school trunk, pulling out his spellbooks, a notebook, and several pens.

He had some research to do.

July 6, 1994
The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley

"Okay," Harry said quietly, speaking more to himself than the self-writing quill that was floating over a large, blank textbook behind him. "Project Hilt: Model 3.3.1 now beginning." Using his wand, he floated a specially designed and crafted metal hilt into the air in front of him. "I am now using all six unicorn hairs from the previous two attempts bounded together as the Hilt Core. The previous two attempts have caused inconsistent results, which I am starting to believe is due to the lack of concentrated power. My hope is that by weaving the hairs together, the magical power will be more dense and focused. Which should also help to reduce the…damages that most of the earlier experiments caused upon activation."

As he was speaking, a line of faintly glowing horse hairs floated up to the hilt. With a casual flick of his wand, the top portion of the hilt detached itself to reveal a hollow opening inside the hilt. Floating down inside the hilt with an air of absolute precision, the bound hairs tucked themselves into the length of the hilt. Once inside, a series of wooden supports inside the hilt gently slid out of their ready positions and took firm holds of the hair, securing the bundle tightly in place. Following this, the top portion of the hilt rapidly returned and screwed itself back into place.

"Activation of Model 3.3.1 shall begin in 3…2…1… Now." At that signal, a small button he'd installed on the hilt was depressed. This button caused a small system of levers inside the hilt to raise a pinch of fairy dust upwards and bring it into contact with the unicorn hairs. The dust and hairs were both highly reactive to one another, causing a burst of raw magic to ignite inside the hilt. This raw magic was then focused down a series of crudely-made but functional inlaid runes to gather up into the emitter at the top of the hilt. From there, the magic was projected upwards and outwards, blasting up into the air in a concentrated stream of pure light that rapidly shifted and shined in all colors of the rainbow.

"Model 3.3.1 is yet another failure," Harry stated with absolute disappointment in his voice as he gazed up at the ceiling. Flicking his wrist, the ignition button was released and the magic laser beam instantly died. As it did, it revealed a small, perfectly cut circle that had been burned into the ceiling, through the roof, and had likely shot high up into the sky.

"I wonder if this experiment accidentally clipped any satellites in orbit this time?" Harry wondered aloud as the hilt dropped limply to the floor. Shaking his head, he continued speaking his thoughts as the quill continued rapidly writing and sketching everything. "While Model 3.3.1 is another failure, it has shown a marked improvement from all previous experiments. My hope on weaving the unicorn hairs to help concentrate the power seems to have been correct. Rather than sending a spray of laser bolts in every direction upon ignition, which would be far more helpful if I could aim the blasted things, the concentrated power was focused into a single beam. However, any and all attempts to shorten the beam into an actual manageable blade continue to fail. I…I am beginning to think that I need…that I need to ask for help from others."

And wasn't that a bitter pill to swallow, since he wanted to make this weapon all on his own. Not that he wouldn't ask for help if he had to, the mere existence of his lightsaber trumped all. However, that didn't mean that he didn't want to do something on his own. Something that was solely his and his alone.

It had already been several weeks since the mad idea of building his own lightsaber had taken hold of him. And Harry's enthusiasm had actually begun to wane as he'd reached the Model 3 series. Sure, the Series 1 and 2 had both had their hiccups, but each failure had taught him something new. The 2's had even shown that he was roughly on the right track. However, the 3 series, while providing him a measure of what he wanted, was absolutely failing to stabilize. The continued attempts at which were actually starting to dampen his spirit worse than his initial speed bump before he'd actually been able to dive right in.

Unlike what he really wanted to do, Harry didn't jump straight into the creation process of building the lightsaber from scratch. Instead, he'd first had to sneak away from Privet Drive and visited the book store in Diagon Alley. Though that part was more perilous than tedious as the Knight Bus made travel…interesting. There he had partaken in the dread task that would have had Ron gasping in horror and Hermione cheering in delight. Harry had to research and read, with no one to prompt him to do so.

He'd combed Florish & Blott's, searching for any legends in the wizarding world that might've pertained to 'swords of light' or any such equivalents to lightsabers, to see if wizards have done such a thing before. He found plenty of references about enchanted blades, swords made of magical metals or through magical means, and even some swords that could shoot various types of magic or spells, but nothing quite like what he wanted. Lightsabers didn't exist, at all.

Once he was sure that he was indeed venturing into uncharted territory, Harry began his shopping spree through the Alley before renting a room in The Leaky Cauldron to be his laboratory. He rented the room because he realized that this was a nifty little loophole in the underage magic law. Namely, he was surrounded in an environment of dense magic usage with a large number of witches and wizards around him. If the Ministry of Magic could somehow locate him in all this magical miasma, he would be very impressed.

His first attempt was extremely crude, and it didn't surprise him at all when it failed. Though that it failed almost immediately was certainly discouraging. His idea had been simple, he' started by basing his project off what he knew of wands. So, the first attempt (Model 1.1.1) was a simple wooden handle with a phoenix feather merged into it through a simple First Year transfiguration spell. The hilt burst into a fiery inferno and badly burned his hand once he started channeling a bit of magic into it. Once he'd gotten the fire under control and his hand healed, he started researching what must've gone wrong. Learning that while wood was generally a good conduit for magic, when said magic was trying to take the form of a laser, wood proved to be a bad conduit for what he was trying to achieve.

From then on, he started crafting his hilts from metal pipes and rods. And, of course, these had their own share of pitfalls such as the first three after that failing to do anything, the following financial costs of finding out why, then the financial problems of discreetly getting ahold of enough copper, silver, gold, and even platinum to make multiple hilts, the difficulty of figuring out how to get metal magically-conducive like its wooden counterpart, the dilemma of getting yet more books to figure out how to successfully integrate a magical core into metal. Most importantly, he came across the challenge that phoenix feathers were truthfully quite hard to get a hold of.

Which was when he'd needed to start in on the Model 2 series and having to utilize dragon heartstrings as the core instead. If not for the simple virtue that dragon heart strings could be bought in bulk or even in raw form if one was willing to actually buy a full heart, which considering that by this point Harry was half convinced that he could simply add his own name to the bookshop's storefront title, considering how much of their stock he'd ended up buying. But frugality won over compatibility.

Thus, began the Model 2 series, which had been something of an angry problem child intent on burning down The Leaky Cauldron. Much like the Model 1s, the early Model 2s had a tendency toward conflagration. However, unlike the phoenix feathers overwhelming their casings with simple heat, the heartstrings posed problems all of their own.

The damn things were just so fussy.

Each heart string woven into the saber, had to, had to, absolutely had to come from the same type of dragon. If for even one moment he thought about mixing in the heartstrings of a Norwegian Ridgeback into a weave of Chinese Fireball, then you were asking for the test saber to go up much like it's donor's name. Even then, you had to get the balance just right even with heartstrings from the same dragon species or you'd face some new issues as well. Too many from any single dragon and the residual magic might gain a minor consciousness and rail and rage when it noticed the residual bits of 'other dragons' near it. However, if he diversified too much, then the power would fluctuate as the differences in the various dragons would play merry hell with power flow. Either option typically ended in explosions… That was if the device was feeling generous that is. If it wasn't, some of the more vicious effects included tongues and gouts of flames, outright explosions, and/or summoning up Ashwinders. The Model 2s had been just as unruly as the beasts that had donated their cores.

But Harry had figured out so much from those experiments that he could easily forgive the unruly things. He even had the Model 2.7.9 still on his person. A device that was (on a good day) a breather of dragon fire and indiscriminate death towards whatever he pointed it at, or (on a bad day) might summon an unruly and angry snake made of living flames. Either way, Harry felt he'd come out ahead of whomever he felt the urge to point the device at. However, even with the success he'd found after getting the exact perfect weave of heart strings, Harry had needed to scrap the Model 2s as a dead end. Not a single one could be classified as anything less than a simple flamethrower. Deadly and powerful flamethrowers that might actually be able to spit fire endlessly, yes, but flamethrowers nonetheless.

Thus, had begun the start of his Model 3s and already the summer was marching towards its zenith.

On one hand, Harry was almost thrilled of the chance to go back to Hogwarts. There lay one of the biggest libraries in the country, and he wouldn't have to purchase a damn one of the texts himself. If there was any place that could help him solve these issues, then it would have to be there.

However, Hogwarts also came with certain restrictions. Restrictions like responsible adults and people who might be concerned if he stumbled out of a room covered in soot and smoke after a loud bang had emanated forth. People like that, while lovely to be around most of the time, would only get in the way of his dream, and may even question why he might want a laser sword in the first place. Such people might even try and stop him and get him 'help' in the form of sleeping potions and calmness droughts to quietly disable him while they disassembled his lab. All in the name of keeping him safe and healthy. Which, to be fair, was sort of an issue, as the desk receptionist at St Mungo's was starting to recognize him on sight the same way Madam Pomfrey did. Considering he'd needed to regrow his hand and several fingers multiple times now, this was actually a point against continuing. But then, of course, there was Snape to consider. He who would only care as much as to note that Harry was interested in something before banning it out of simple spite.

And if Snape thought Harry shouldn't do something, then clearly it was a sign to press forwards and damn the consequences! Such was the conclusion Harry had reached after Model 3.1.5 had exploded and produced a rainbow-colored fog that had made him somehow taste the color purple, see pixies riding little unicorns floating through walls, and argue with himself in the mirror for several hours. An act further complicated by the mirror occasionally weighing in for either his ID or Super Ego, depending on which had been winning at the time.

Yet despite a rather in-depth look at his own psyche that he prayed the mirror would keep quiet about, Harry was left no closer to his goal than he'd been before. And as of now, Model 3.3.1 was in need of tweaking to see if he could get it working as he wanted it.

However, before he could begin his process of tweaking the runic inlays to modulate the size of the beam, and hopefully keep it from firing off into orbit, Harry's body reminded him that he'd not actually eaten in the past few hours... if not outright days while he'd been working on this latest model.

Food, Harry realized, would probably be a good thing.

With that thought in mind, Harry made the few checks he'd come to learn were necessary if he didn't want a worried populace to call the Aurors about someone attacking a national hero. A few quick scourgifies to clean off any soot that might have been clinging to him from a past explosion and a check in the mirror to confirm that he actually still had eyebrows this morning, Harry found himself sitting in a corner of The Leaky Cauldron, awaiting his shepherd's pie and going through his note-tome.

It had once been a notebook, but the constant addition of pages had quickly necessitated a change in names. Within this tome were numerous pages dedicated to every single thing he'd learned from his project. Some pages were copied faithfully from various textbooks for quick reference, and these ranged from runic arrays to Arithmetic tables. Others were in a messy scratch decipherable only by Harry, Hermione, school teachers, and doctors around the world. These detailed his schematics, every design, every runic array and pathway, every strand of silver and copper, every ounce of gold and platinum used to create the casings, and every primary arithmetic equation to compensate for etheric flow from wand core to power emitter and then flash transmute raw magic into pure energy to create a single beam of pure light. Page after page, he'd filled with diagrams and writing. Every failure catalogued, and every breakthrough and new discovery highlighted.

It was there, as Harry sat down and began to fiddle with the outer casing of Model 3.3.1, preparing to tweak the runic arrays in such a fashion to restrict the primary oddic flow from the tertiary mana roots to narrow the etheric back-flow and maybe narrow the beam for Model 3.3.1, that a familiar voice tore him from his notes and tinkering.

"Harry? Is that you?" a familiar voice asked from behind Harry. And, sure enough, upon spinning around in his seat excitedly, Harry beamed up at his most favorite Defense professor. The haggard looking man returned his smile with one of surprised relief and confusion. As he hurried forward and swept the boy up into a hesitant hug, he asked, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be at home with your relatives? How've you been?"

Harry's smile faltered a little at the mention of the Dursleys, but he shoved them out of mind as he answered, 'To bloody hell with the Dursley's. They're not here, so they can't ruin this!' "I've been great!" Harry answered more honestly than he'd ever answered such a question about his summer than ever before, and quickly continued, "The Dursleys and I have an agreement. As long as the chores are done and so long as I get home before dark, they don't care where I am or what I do! So, I've been spending a lot of time here!"

"Really?" the man's voice was carefully neutral as he studied the nearly 14-year-old's face. "Not getting into trouble, I hope? Or spending all of your money on toys or fancy brooms, are you? That money is meant for your school supplies and textbooks. You do know that, right?"

"I know, I know!" Harry said with the casual annoyance and dismissal that all teenagers showed when faced with unwelcome facts. "But I'm not wasting it on toys." He couldn't help uttering moodily under his breath, "Though with the number of bloody books I've bought some of it very well might be a waste." But then he quickly returned to his normal voice and expression as he continued, "I'm smarter than that! I've been working on a little project, and I've needed a lot of books and stuff for research to make it work!"

"Oh?" Remus said, looking genuinely interested. "What kind of project, Harry?"

At this point, Harry felt the need to look cross-eyed at his former teacher. As wonderful a man as he was, what with being a link to his parents and a competent teacher to boot, Remus Lupin was still one of the 'responsible adults' that might try and steer him away from his dream. If not because he thought it was dangerous like so many others, but because it would be dangerous to Harry personally. Merlin and The Force help him if he learned about Harry's trips to St. Mungo's earlier this summer!

He was the exact sort of responsible adult that Harry should have been left with, furry problem notwithstanding. And because of that, he was the exact sort that should be kept far away from his research, lest he act responsibly and confiscate the dangerous weapons project from the thirteen-year-old. That he was almost fourteen likely wouldn't help him as it was still a weapons project and he was still underage, no matter how much closer to seventeen that extra digit made him.

However, as he continued to eye Lupin up, as if considering the best way to dispose of the body and have no questions asked, the older man began to laugh uproariously. Drawing a few looks from the crowd that soon morphed into looks of understanding and even a few fond smiles.

As Harry's look turned from contemplative to confused, the bedraggled older man held his hands in front of him in helpless defense as he tried to explain through giggles, "Oh Merlin, Harry...Hehehe… It's just that look from her eyes on his face… Hahaha… Oh Merlin, you have no idea how good it is to see both James and Lily alive in you, Harry." Remus explained with a laugh as he looked Harry up and down once more, this time in consideration rather than in parental worry. Even as Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion at the very loose definition of an explanation his former professor had given.

"Right," the werewolf coughed in hound-ish fashion, that only now with the knowledge Harry had about the man's affliction did he realize why it had always reminded him of the way he'd seen Marge's dogs cough. "It's just your mother once gave me that same look when I ran into her right around the same age you are now. In almost exactly the exact same circumstances too. Let me guess, you were going to drop me in the Thames?" Remus smiled knowingly.

"…" Harry mumbled an answer, even as he turned red for being caught.

"…'Feed me to Marge's dogs'? Who is Marge?" the man asked with a laugh, having easily heard and understood what the boy mumbled. As this was happening, Harry's meal was levitated over to the table. Along with a lamb stew and pint glass of something brown and hoppy, which placed themselves in front of his former school teacher.

"…My parents ever tell you that that's not fair?" Harry glared as the man looked upon him smugly, even as he began to dig into the wonderfully cooked meal in front of him. Not quite up to Hogwarts or Mrs. Weasley's standards, or even his own to be honest. But there was a pleasant warmth that came from knowing that he didn't have to cook the meal himself which made it taste all the better. It almost made up for the smugly grinning wolf that sat before him preening in his hate.

"James said it all the time, Lily I rarely gave need to mutter angrily about me because… she… she tended to back up her dark mutterings." Remus replied happily at first, before looking at Harry's sullen look and quickly comparing it to the time he'd found himself as a fully functional female for a month after he'd tried to give sympathy to Lily whilst she was in the midst of one of her spells. She had not taken his fifteen-year-old self's words of comfort too well. Harry's eyes looked frighteningly closer to hers. And he was also here working on a project, much like she had been back then.

'Best not to tempt fate too much more, lest he be too much more like his mother than his eyes suggest,' Remus thought to himself quickly and tried to turn both their attentions back onto something that was far less likely to end in his misery. After all, he hadn't brought Padfoot to see Lily's son and if he was going to suffer, then Sirius was going to suffer. Because there was nothing quite like seeing a Black run in terror from an enraged and vengeful Evans, no matter who the participants or what the circumstances.

"So, Harry, this project? It anything like your mom's?" Lupin asked quickly as he tried to look at the messy scratches and twisted diagrams that from the reversed angle. But even with his somewhat experienced eye for deciphering such writing, it seemed to form eldritch script and non-Euclidian shapes that almost hurt the brain to look at unless he crossed his eyes and looked at them sideways.

"Uh, probably not," Harry answered hesitantly, weariness still clear in his voice and expression as he watched the man stare at his tome. "I saw something on the telly and wanted to try and see if I could create an actual real-life version of it. Not having much luck with it just yet...What did my mum try and make?"

"She said she was trying to compare potion making and the ingredients with muggle...kemsty? ...To see how similar or different they were from one another. Trying to put a 'scientific perspective to a magical art' as she'd put it. The project consumed practically all of her attention during her Fourth Year summer, but I don't think she got very far with it. She came back to Hogwarts with a very...upset look about her."

"Using Chemistry for Potions?" Harry clarified, eyes wide at the thought. Then, a slow smile started spreading across his face at the realization that his own project was actually quite a bit closer to what his mum had tried to do than he'd first thought. "Yeah, I can see how that would've gotten her interested."

"So, this project?" Remus asked lightly, smiling a disarming grin that he hadn't used much since he'd graduated. "I take it that it's a bit closer to her project than not? Must be a real challenge if you're still trying to crack this nut open."

"Heh," Harry couldn't help grunting in good humor, Remus's friendly expression and demeanor quickly wearing away his reluctance. "In more ways than one." He continued even as he turned the book around so that his former-teacher could look over his notes, with the vague hope that the former part would keep him from commenting on Harry's spelling. Never mind the long losing battle about his scripts' neatness.

As Remus began to page through Harry's notes, following the insane and myriad disorder that was Harry's mid-page reference guide to theorems and diagrams about why his spell work and rune weaving should work. Harry himself began to tuck into his meal, after he'd quietly switched the contents of Remus' beer with a passing witch's Ginger Ale while he became engrossed with the notes. No words were exchanged for several minutes as they both went about their tasks, though Harry wasn't sure if the engrossed silence that further delayed Remus from his revenge was a good thing or not.

Finally, the older man looked up and asked him a question, just as Harry suspected he would. "Blimey, Harry, why didn't you take Runes and Arithmancy as your electives?"

"Hey, it wasn't really my fault!" Harry answered, his voice sounding a bit whiny and cracking slightly. "Ron said that Divination would've been easy. And I really like Care for Magical Creatures!"

When he heard that, Remus rolled his eyes slightly as an annoyed sigh left him. "It figures," he uttered in helpless tone of voice. "You get your brilliance and talent from your mother, but your work ethic from your father."

"What?" Harry asked, eyes wide as a slightly frantic, hungry expression crossed his face. "My dad was...lazy in his studies? Really?"

"For the most part," Remus acknowledged, turning a wan smile on the boy. "Oh, he had his few talents where he shined, like Quidditch and Transfiguration... but he more used the latter to shine in pranking more than anything else." Remus laughed lightly, "Though he did start getting his act together about midway through our Fifth Year, when he REALLY started trying to impress Lily." Gesturing back to Harry's tome, he said, "But back to this, would you like some help or advice on it? I'd be happy to help when and if I could because, unlike you, I actually did take those classes. And as a graduate, I likely know a little bit more than you do at this point." He finished boastfully as he gestured to a page. "Like here, why are you using lightning wards in these things Harry?"

The page was of a sketch from the model 2 series when he'd tried to experiment with using an alternative to linking the things to himself by covering the things in his blood for hours at a time. The Model was Harry's first and only attempt at making the lightsaber battery-powered…and the third time he'd blown off his left hand…and the first time he'd met an Ashwinder.

It was a skirt of the laws on muggle artifacts, and with the help of a modified ward schemer he'd found that converted lightning into magical energy to give the larger ward scheme and enchantments protecting the house. It would usually need to be woven into the primary rune scheme in concert with the runes used to project the wards. But in Harry's case, he'd only really needed to modify it a little to account for not needing any other runes on the copper wires he linked betwixt battery and emitter. Of course, that had resulted in fire, pain, and the sudden existence of a snake made out of said fire that had gone on to attempt to burn down The Leaky Cauldron as it tried to eat his owl.

Hedwig won, quite decisively actually.

The design and idea had been scrapped once Harry had figured out that the energy conversion effect of the runes was too efficient, converting all of the battery's energy at once in a blast much like his Model 1s. However, the rune scheme lived on in his later models, though in this case working in a reverse fashion to help convert his magic into a laser.

"Because electricity is nifty, and I needed it to generate the laser," Harry replied flippantly between bites of his pie, feeling moderately defensive of his designs even if they were explosive failures.

"Elect—what, Harry?" Remus replied in confusion.

His bafflement actually surprised Harry enough to cause the teen to pause in his eating and look at the man inquisitively.

"This may surprise you, Harry," Remus said in a low, but still rather contrite voice as he saw the boy's disbelieving stare. "But nearly all wizards stay as far away from muggles as they can and they have absolutely no interest in learning about anything about them. Just because I may know how to live and hide among them doesn't mean I automatically know how certain things truly work within the muggle world." Seeing Harry's continued gawk, Remus just sighed as he leaned back in the chair heavily. "I get the feeling this is going to be a long conversation before we even get to what you're playing with here… Okay, please explain to me, in little words mind you, about 'elec—trici—ty', what it does, and why it's important."

"Well, er, it's the stuff that makes everything work. Without it, London, no, the entire world as we know it wouldn't have become what it is. Practically everything runs off the stuff in some way or another." Harry stumbled, slowly realizing that while he might know that electricity made things work, he didn't know much more than that.

It was with a shock that he realized that his scientific knowledge, and the entire process he'd been trying to base his own project on ended very abruptly at age ten and had never really progressed past that point. At most, he knew that if he took a pair of wires and attached them to the positive and negative ends of a battery, and then if the other ends of the wire was attached to a lightbulb, you would get light. But the exact why's and how's of the process were as limited as his knowledge of wandcraft had been at the very start of the project.

"That is very interesting, Harry, but what precisely does that have to do with the lightning wards?" Remus asked, his voice pulling Harry away from his sudden revelation. Momentarily halting the realization that he would need yet more books, as Harry tried once more to process the sudden display of ignorance from the normally astute older man. But with the realization that Remus hadn't even known what electricity was in the first place, his further ignorance could be explained.

"Because, Moony," Harry replied puckishly, happy to have at least some control of the situation back. "Lightning is electricity. Naturally occurring, and rather powerful too. Sorta why lightning wards are standard issue if your intent for any of your construction projects to be long-term when it comes to wards."

"I knew that about the wards, Prongslet, but – " Remus snapped back grumpily.

"Don't call me that," Harry reflexively replied to the nickname, interrupting the older man before the former school teacher could build up into a true lecture.

"Become an illegal animagi before your seventeen and show me your form so you can earn your own nickname and then we'll talk. Till then, you're Prongslet…or pup, depending on the mood of the Marauder," smiled the former prankster, using the flawless and insufferable logic of annoying uncles everywhere as a reason to justify treating someone as a child, before continuing with his lecture unimpeded. "I knew lightning was powerful. Hogwarts hasn't had to have the wards personally recharged in ages because of their own wards drawing power out of any stray lightning strike to any of its towers. Merlin, Azkaban's wards actually attract lighting from all nearby storms for leagues around it. But you're saying the muggles have harnessed lightning to power everything out there?" Remus asked gesturing towards the exit from the Cauldron out into London proper.

"Not… quite?" Harry half asked as he struggled to remember his history and science. "A while back over, the pond in America, there was a muggle man who figured out that lighting was electricity and since he'd already been playing with it, he came up with a something to mitigate the damage of lightning-strikes. That then laid the foundation for everything else muggles eventually figured out about electricity. But, I don't think they harvest power from storms like wizards do." Harry frowned as he tried to remember the American's name. It had been someone from the colonial rebellions, someone who was also really important to the founding of the eventual country the colonies had evolved into. Thomas Lincoln? George Jefferson? Benjamin Bush, or had he been a recent president?

'How much have I actually missed in the past three years?' Harry actually wondered.

"So how do Muggles use Elect-trix-ity then?" Remus asked with a frown, glancing down at Harry's book, towards the sketches of Model 2.4.9. and as Harry joined him in looking at the page he started to wonder if the reason the design had failed might have had something to do not only with his limited understanding of the runes and wandlore, but of muggle science as well?

"You know, I'm not sure, but I think I'm gonna try and find out," Harry declared with a smile as a thought occurred to him. 'Star Wars and lightsabers are a muggle creation, after all. Maybe magic alone isn't going to work. But…maybe the muggles will have a better idea to how this could work? It certainly can't hurt to look… And if what I remember about muggle libraries holds true, hopefully it'll also be cheap.'

July 9, 1994
Diagon Alley

"How interesting," Harry mumbled as he shuffled his reading between the various articles and science books he had clustered around him on the table. Around him were several science books he'd borrowed from a nearby muggle library that focused their subjects on lasers, electricity, plasma, and scientific theory. But he also had numerous newsletters and journals written by both amateurs and professionals on several theories behind how a lightsaber would be able to work based off the science they knew.

What he was finding was that it was less of a 'laser sword' and more of a condensed plasma blade, contained by powerful magnetic frequencies. Which was why it could also block the blaster bolts since the magnetic fields from both would send any incoming beams bouncing off the sabers own. The Jedi were just precognitive badass enough to turn it into a deadly combat style. Or at least that was a working theory in many of the theoretical journals some of Star Wars more scientifically-minded fans had come up with.

Harry had been profoundly surprised at the difference between lasers and plasma, and how it translated to his project. A laser, which he could produce with some level of fluctuation, was simply a condensed type of light, and would react accordingly. Plasma though, Harry had come to learn that plasma was something called the 'fourth state of matter' and he still wasn't quite sure what that meant. So, to ease potential future headaches on the matter, he just decided that he'd call plasma 'liquid fire'. As he continued to dig deeper into the realms of science, Harry discovered that the creation of plasma was nigh-impossible for muggles because it required a very high degree of power and heat. And until they could somehow synthesize a metal that was strong enough to not melt at such high temperatures, as well as how to focus and contain the plasma in a blade form, the likelihood of building a lightsaber solely from science and technology was as unlikely as he was finding it to be from magic.

"But if I add in heat-resistant runes to the interior, or even just use bits of dragon bone to compensate for the raw heat." Harry said, his new floating quill once again capturing his words. "That means that the hilt won't melt or explode in my hand... However, that still leaves the problem of power. How could I, or Merlin anyone really, power such a thing? I've been using my own magic to power nearly all of my models before now. But if the text is right, which I think it is, then the amount of power needed to generate so much heat and energy to even create the plasma would be nothing short of overwhelming. To say nothing of the magnets needed to contain the ruddy stuff. Merlin, I doubt even Dumbledore could do such a thing!"

As he was turning his thoughts over, trying to merge what he knew of magic with technology, a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Maybe what I need to do is find or make a runic sequence that could contain and recycle the flow of energy once powered? A self-perpetuating sequence to focus and control energy. Could I even do that?" He let out a heavy sigh. "I wish I'd joined Ancient Runes class instead of Divination."

Looking over at his book, Harry took his wand and started transferring pages from the various texts and articles into the book through copying everything with magic, even if they didn't entirely pertain to the subject he was interested in. He could always go back and refine it later. Despite how much of his experiments and thoughts had already been recorded, as well as the new inserts, less than half of the large volume had even been used. Plenty of space for him to add in a few chapters on how to create, inscribe, channel, and use runes in various forms. "I suppose I have some more book shopping to do before I go back to Privet Drive."

August 25, 1994
Stoatshead Hill

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big… Come on…"

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air. "Over here, Arthur! Over here, son we've got it!" Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," Mr. Weasley said, looking back over at his group. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen, the Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Looking around at them, the boy said simply, "Hi."

Everybody said 'hi' back, except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

Seeing that everyone was gathered, Harry discreetly turned away from the group and pulled out a small pamphlet-sized booklet which he started reading from. The pamphlet was actually his research tome for his lightsaber, which he'd asked Mr. Weasley to shrink down to a more manageable size once he'd arrived at the Burrow. Swiping back to a very specific page, he started rereading what the science article on plasma once again. This little distraction of his had become a rather common occurrence, even while he was with the Weasleys, so none of them spoke up on it if they even noticed. He'd pull it out when he was either bored or there was nothing interesting happening and would quickly get lost back in his research.

"—it was an accident," Cedric's voice cut through his thoughts. "Sorry, Harry, I—what are you reading?"

Looking up, Harry flinched back in surprise at how close Cedric had gotten so quickly. He reflexively closed and pulled his tome away, trying to hide it from sight. But, seeing Cedric's questioning and somewhat amused gaze, he let out a slight sigh before he held it up slightly. "Just a little…summer project of mine."

"Must be some project," Cedric remarked, his brow quirking slightly in surprise and good humor. "You completely missed out on some Quidditch talk, and I know you love Quidditch."

"You were apologizing," Harry pointed out as he stuffed his tome back into his pocket. With a slight grin, he continued, "Maybe it was good thing I missed it."

Cedric blinked before an answering grin spread across his face. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe it was a good thing."

"Harry, Cedric!" Mr. Weasley called, urgency clear in his voice. "Time's almost up! Get over here!" As the boys approached, Harry couldn't help looking questioningly at the strange scene of a large group of people gathered around and clutching a manky old boot in the growing dusk. Seeing his slight confusion, Arthur hurriedly said, "Just touch it! Quickly!"

Harry had just barely finished putting a finger on the boot when he felt as though a hook just behind his navel had suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground and he joined the group as they vanished in a blur of motion, spinning at blinding speeds towards the hidden World Cup arena.

September 1, 1994
Hogwarts Express, northbound

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared. Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione barked reproachfully. She pulled out her wand and muttered, "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well…making it look like he knows everything, and we don't…" Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.' …Dad could've got a promotion any time…he just likes it where he is…"

"Of course he does," Hermione agreed quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron—!"

"Him! Get to me?! As if!" Ron said, picking up one of the Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

As Ron turned to glare moodily out the window, staring off into the gathering darkness, Harry could clearly see that any further conversation was going to be strained and awkward. Sighing slightly, he stood up and dug into his trunk, pulling out a familiar tome. The sight of Harry pulling out a book wasn't an uncommon sight, but the fact that the tome was absolutely massive in size and weight, that was something worth drawing his two friends' attentions.

"Blimey, Harry, what's that?" Ron asked, some of his bad mood clearing up in his slight confusion. Since he was seated next to Harry, he was able to look over his shoulder and easily see what was on the pages. Most of it was covered in scribbled text he recognized as Harry's handwriting, along with drawn sketches and inserted pictures from other books, as well as what were clearly copied pages of other textbooks and pamphlets pasted in the tome. While he could see it, he couldn't make sense of any of it from just the passing gaze he was giving it.

"Oh, ah, just some notes for a summer project I was doing at the Dursleys," Harry admitted, looking up and flushing slightly at seeing his friends' interests.

"'Just some notes'?!" Ron repeated, gawking with a horrified expression on his face. "That looks like something Hermione would read in her spare time!"

"Ron!" Hermione said, her voice split between a reproachful bark and an embarrassed whine. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to Harry and asked, "What kind of project was it, Harry? Did you finish it?"

Harry sent Hermione a slightly crooked grin since he knew she'd probably understand what he was about to reveal, unlike Ron. "I was watching a muggle film and got inspired to try and build my own version of a weapon that was shown in the movie. I want to build my own lightsaber!"

"Wha—lightsaber? Are you serious?!" Hermione asked, her eyes widening slightly before she rolled them in exasperation. "Argh, a lightsaber? Really, Harry? I mean, really?! You do know that's impossible, right? With either magic or technology!"

"Really, Hermione, so lightning storms don't happen over Hogwarts?" Harry drawled with a smirk.

"Of course they do, Harry, but what—!?" Hermione stopped talking, just as Harry suspected she would, as her brain made a very crucial connection that all other muggleborns had missed. If magic messed with electricity, how then did lightning still behave normally near such a high concentration?

"A light…saber?" Ron repeated slowly, testing out the strange word with a contemplative look on his face. "What's a light-saber?"

"A fictional weapon in a film saga called 'Star Wars' that is very popular among the muggles," Hermione answered automatically, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. "It's basically a magic sword that can cut through anything and is used by exclusively by a group of warrior-wizards who fight to protect goodness and light."

"Not a bad comparison, Hermione," Harry said, nodding his head agreeably. "I take it you've seen the saga?"

"Yes, I have, once," she admitted. Then, muttering almost too quietly for either boy to hear, she said, "Star Trek is way better, though." Despite herself, Hermione flushed somewhat at seeing Harry's slightly disappointed and disgusted look as he gazed at her pointedly with a raised brow.

"Star what?" Ron asked, glancing between the two of them in confusion.

"Anyway, can I see what you've already got?" Hermione asked, gesturing inquiringly towards Harry's tome. Harry nodded and handed it over to her.

Taking the tome, Hermione opened it at the first page and rapidly started reading over. Soon, she was skimming over Harry's notes and theories, studying his diagrams and experiments. After several minutes, Harry slid over to sit next to her, so he could help share and explain certain thoughts. Hermione had an increasingly widening look of surprise and burgeoning respect as the two of them continued.

But as she reached the second half of his tome, where he had started gathering information on relevant muggle technologies along with his theories and notes of how magic might be able to aid in the construction, her expression changed to one of utter fascination. She had never even considered the possibility that perhaps the long-held belief of technology and magic working in tandem was an impossibility was in fact completely mistaken due to wizards' long ignorance of technology. The fact that some of Harry's first experiments with joining the two opposites showed promising results was truly mind-blowing and revolutionary for her.

Needless to say, she and Harry were locked in an intense discussion on these new ideas for the remainder of the train ride.

Meanwhile, Ron had seen the direction that the two of them were heading and had quickly lost interest. He soon turned and started glaring out the window again, quickly going back to sulking and simmering over Malfoy and being left in the dark of what was happening at Hogwarts by everyone. Heck, now even his best friends were excluding him from the discussion! The fact that they (and he) knew that he wouldn't likely understand anything of what they were talking about was pushed to the side in his mind as he continued to brood angrily at everyone.

Saturday, September 10, 1994
Library, Hogwarts

It was odd, Harry thought, being happy that there was no Quidditch this year. In fact, the thought was nearly heretical, and had his old captain still been in residence, Harry was sure he'd have suddenly appeared to set him straight for the mere thought. Yet here he sat in the Library, note-tome open before him as numerous other books were open around him in an eclectic arrangement on a day he'd usually be out in the stadium practicing with his team. Hermione, likewise, sat across from him, her own fort of books surrounding her as she poured over facts. She had gotten rather odd about the notion that all of her books on magical and technological interactions might have been wrong.

"Here, Harry, here it says that Hogwarts is unplottable by radar. That means they had to have set up a machine and tested it." Hermione nodded, as she forced a copy of Hogwarts: A History into his hands, a manic gleam in her eyes.

"And this proves…?" Harry asked as he looked up from his designs for Model 3.7.1. The last several models having reacted oddly to the additions of electrical current… At least the mirror that had recorded his psyche had 'mysteriously' died. But with Hermione insisting on proving her point, Harry was starting to see that he wasn't likely to get the work done until he could shift her focus.

"…Well, that they got it here and it didn't work?" Hermione asked as if realizing somehow that, no, it neither proved nor disproved Harry's recent assertions.

That magic was not some anti-technological force that corrupted electronics. That wizards quite simply did not know what electricity was and having failed to operate several electrical devices without power sources had concluded that it was magic keeping them from working rather than their own lack of understanding. Since then, Hermione had been trying to prove him wrong. If only for the sake of her precious books, she couldn't take them lying to her a second time. Lockhart's horrifying revelation had been scandalous in the extreme!

"Hermione," Harry said with a heavy sigh, trying to rein in his mounting irritation with her as he glanced up at her. Either he hadn't done all that good of a job or Hermione knew him too well and could see through his mask. Regardless, he saw her flush slightly in embarrassment and he knew that she knew she was about to be gently scolded by him. "How exactly would they have done that?" He asked finally.

"Well…"

"Hermione, you and I both know there aren't any power lines for leagues. So, of course the thing couldn't get any readings. Hell, even if they could, it also proves my point. Hogwarts is bigger on the inside than the outside. Of course they couldn't properly map it with radar. Either way, it doesn't disprove my theory. Either they got a working Radar machine here and got wonky readings through electricity, or they got the machine here and didn't know how to work it. You've had ten days, Hermione. You've only got four more to convince me I'm wrong." Harry finished as he brought the crux of the issue home.

"Harry, it can't be that." Hermione scowled as the topic moved back towards something she really didn't want to accept.

"Then what else could it be?" Harry asked back, honestly not seeing another alternative.

"I don't know!" Hermione shouted, drawing even the shocked eye of Madam Pince! "It's…a misunderstanding, a conspiracy, a-a-a-anything but that, Harry!" She blushed as she realized where she was and just what it was she was shouting.

"Really, Hermione? There's a plot to keep the magical world ignorant of technology and the advancements of science to…what? Keep them ignorant enough of modern day conveniences so they don't tear up old buildings to install air conditioners?" Harry asked with a completely straight face, fingers steepled together before him and hiding the lower half of his face…mostly so Hermione wouldn't see his stupid grin.

"That's dumb and you know it, Harry," she huffed as she looked back to her book.

"And suggesting conspiracy isn't? Hermione, you of all people should know not to assume malice where stupidity could explain everything," Harry replied as he lowered his arms, letting her take in his wide and amused face.

"Hanlan's Razor? From you, Mr. Snape-is-up-to-something?" Hermione replied bitingly.

"Hey, I was eleven, and I was right that something was up, just picked the wrong teacher," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Urgh, not the point," Hermione grumbled, finally giving up the fight and burying her face in her open tome in defeat.

"Sorry, Hermione, but facts are just facts. Wizards don't know what electricity is, and because they don't, their entire approach to muggle tech has been flawed," Harry said with a shrug.

"But how?! Arthur Weasley rebuilt his car from scratch. They have the Knight Bus and the wireless. Merlin, Harry, Draco bloody Malfoy, ignorant pureblood and proud of it, knows what a helicopter is well enough to brag about outrunning one. So, how—how can they possibly not know what electricity is?" she growled as she shifted in her spot, just enough so one eye was visible enough to glare at him through her hair.

"I don't know. How was Hogwarts constructed?" Harry replied with a grin, knowing she'd rise to the bait.

"With magic, Harry," She replied, her one visible eye somehow silently articulating the additional question about his lack of intellect.

"Exactly, Hermione," He smirked, causing his friend to raise her face from the table, just enough to better convey her look of resigned confusion.

"…You've lost me, Harry."

"Magic built this place, sure. But what spells, how many days, which rooms were first, how was that tower added?" he said as he pointed towards her impromptu pillow. "Hogwarts: A History probably has some of those answers, but I don't need to read it to tell you that this castle was made by magic." He explained.

"…And this has what to do with Malfoy and his helicopter?" she asked in confusion.

"He doesn't need to know how it works to know what it is. Just like I don't need to know what spells were used to know magic did it." Harry shrugged.

"That sort of logic literally hurts to understand, Harry. I hope you understand this," his friend conceded.

It would be truly remarkable how in a few short weeks, he'd be looking back on these annoying arguments with a deep yearning. Things were so much simpler. But, like all good things, it would come to an end far too quickly for the young Potter boy.

Sunday, September 18, 1994
Abandoned classroom (Harry's workshop), Third Floor, West Wing

"Okay…ready for ignition?" Hermione asked with a heavy sigh of stress and reluctance. Though she was super excited, she was also very weary. What they, or Harry rather, were about to attempt was no doubt going to be extremely dangerous but also potentially revolutionary.

"Ready!" Harry called back, the excitement clear in his voice, expression, and posture. Despite herself, a smile crept across Hermione's face as she saw that. All too often, Harry was either depressed, scared, or angry while at Hogwarts because of the trials and conflicts that continually plagued his life. Seeing him so focused and genuinely excited like this was a rare thing to witness, even from his closest of friends. Well, outside of anything to do with Quidditch at least.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron grumbled from where he was slouched against a discarded desk in the corner of the room, his boredom obvious to all. He was lounging with his feet propped up on the desk, leaning back in the chair against the wall, with an old primary school science book in his hand that he was staring at blearily. He had been told by both Harry and Hermione to read that book, so he'd have a better understanding of what they were trying to do here. Truthfully, if Ron had read anything past the first chapter, let alone the first page, Hermione would've been very surprised. "Let's just get this over with already!"

Huffing slightly in annoyance at Ron's impatience, Hermione refocused her attention on the project at hand. The pair of them were going to attempt to do several things in this test, all of which could prove critical to their overall project. Using the supplies that he'd purchased back in Diagon Alley during the summer, they had carved a small vessel out of dragonbone. Nestled within a simple hole carved out of the desk they were using, the vessel itself was little more than a tooth the size of a person's thumb which had been carefully hollowed out by Harry for the past few days and could now serve as an impromptu cup.

Dragonbone was a very hard and tough material, but also surprisingly light. It needed to be to support the weight of the creature while it stalked about on the ground or had taken flight. If Hermione had tried to classify it in muggle science terms, the closest equivalent it would've had was carbon fiber that was stronger but lighter than steel. But it was also remarkably resilient against high temperatures. Another necessity since a dragon's internal temperatures tended to bounce between 'scorching hot' when at rest and 'volcanic' when utilizing their fire breath. And that heat resistance was the singular aspect of what they were testing now.

"Okay, beginning the experiment of the Dragonbone Plasma Cup Model 1.1 in 3…2…1…" Harry said, purposely speaking loudly so that his self-writing quill could pick up his voice and add it to his ever-growing pile of research notes. With a flick of his wand, Harry levitated the chemical mixture that he and Hermione had devised less than an hour ago and floated it over the tooth. Filling the small opening in the tooth to its fullest, Harry quickly returned the mixture to its resting spot near the far wall and safely out of reach. "The plasma mixture has been inserted into the dragon tooth. Hermione will now apply the needed heat to stimulate the mixture into its plasma state."

Taking her cue, Hermione moved forward and ignited a fire under the tooth, using the same spell they used every time they attended Potions class. With a small puff of air, the fires burst to life. Hermione kept a constant flow of magic and attention dedicated to the flames, making them progressively hotter as the seconds ticked away. The temperature in the room quickly rose despite the now blue-hot flames staying at a consistent size. The dragon tooth remained unfazed by both the heat and flames alike that were scorching the undersides of it and the desk it was upon.

"Temperature's is at 600 degrees Celsius and rising" Hermione intoned as the flames moved through the channel. higher and higher the heat climbed as she fed it through the tooth. every hundred degrees she would voice the temperature until finally they had achieved their goal. "Temperature has reached 1,000 degrees Celsius. Plasma has been achieved."

"We are now at about the approximate projected temperature," Harry said, wiping the sweat from his brow, moving up alongside Hermione to dabble a wet clothe across her face as well. Since she had to keep her attention on the fire spell, she couldn't spare the focus it would take to wipe her face herself. So, Harry's help was greatly appreciated. As he was speaking, the mixture inside the tooth began to indeed start to react. Its color changed from a bland blue into a boiling red and vibrant orange, glowing eerily reminiscent of lava. Within moments after achieving this new color, the tiny amount of plasma began emitting a powerful heat of its own, easily more overwhelming than the fires that Hermione had been making.

"Success!" Harry cheered, pumping his fist lightly as Hermione smiled in triumph. "We have achieved plasma! The temperature of the plasma is staggering, however. Note: we'll need to create a high-scale heat-containment charm or ward scheme."

"The dragon tooth seems to be in good shape as well," Hermione added, panting hard now. This level of magic output was proving to be very draining for her. "The high temperatures of the plasma do not seem to be affecting the structural integrity of the dragonbone at this moment. But we will only truly understand the affects after the plasma has cooled. Speaking of which, I will now cease the fires and allow the plasma to cool down naturally. Beginning cooldown phase, now." She instantly put out the flames and let out a heavy sigh of relief as she stopped feeding her magic into the spell. "That was exhausting."

"Look on the bright side," Harry said lowly, so that his voice would've been picked up by the quill. "At least your estimate about the temperatures needed weren't accurate, and much lower than my own."

"True," she nodded in agreement as she wearily made her way into a nearby chair.

"What in bloody hell was that?!" Ron suddenly asked loudly, causing the two researchers to turn their attention to his wide-eyed form. Much like them he was completely drenched in sweat that he was visibly wiping it down, even as Ron stared intently at their project.

"That was plasma, Ron." Hermione answered calmly.

"Plasma?! That was bloody Fiendfyre is what it was. Da told me about it once: fires of hell, ain't it?" Ron replied as he continued to stare at the dragonbone construct. Even as he ignored Hermione's quite mutterings about language.

"More like the fires of the sun, actually." Harry replied as he filed away another factoid about magic away in the back of his mind.

"The fucking sun?!" Ron exclaimed in shock.

"Yes, Ronald, the sun!" Hermione agreed, her irritation at the redhead slowly growing.

"And you're gonna turn the bloody sun into a sword, Harry?!" Ron continued, not seeming to notice Hermione's frustration. As he turned his astonished gaze onto his friend, his expression started changing to one of understanding and want. "How far are you from finishing it?!"

"We're not even halfway done," Harry said, closing his eyes in annoyance at the distance he had to go till he completed his dream. Frowning Harry found himself moving quickly as he then threw open the windows of the abandoned classroom they had set up in, letting in a blast of far cooler autumn air. Even with pre-applied cooling charms, all three students found themselves let out long sighs of relief as the autumn air swept over them and the heat of the room quickly began vanishing out the windows. Turning back to Ron, he continued, "We still have to examine and document the affects that the plasma had to the dragonbone. Then, we need to try increasing the amount of plasma we produce while trying to accelerate and control the warmup and cooldown phases. Then, we need to figure out which would be better, a ward scheme or a charm, to protect against the heat. Then we need to carve runes to—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Ron interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You aren't anywhere close to finishing this magic sword you've been babbling on about. I get it. But how long until you've got your sun-sword up and running?"

"Soon." Harry asked, smiling at the knowledge. "Very soon."

Thursday, September 22, 1994
Hogwarts Library

"So, if I add in this 'algiz' here," Harry muttered to himself he shuffled between six different Rune books he was cross-referencing, his hand idly marking down the rune in question as he spoke. "And then put the 'sōwilō' here…then that would mean…"

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Hermione asked lowly, skepticism heavy in her voice. She was surrounded by her own pile of books. Unlike Harry, however, she was working on her own schoolwork rather than the lightsaber project at this moment. And her disapproval of him focusing on a 'hobby' over his schoolwork right now was quite palpable. But Harry ignored that with practiced ease.

"Yes," he answered easily, not looking up from his work. "I've been studying Ancient Runes quite a lot over the summer. Remus even gave me some pointers in it as well. I like to think I'm at least 'competent' in them now."

The mention of their previous Defense Professor giving Harry advice actually brought Hermione up short for a moment. But after gazing at him with a scrutinizing look for a long moment, she decided to let it go. After spending the past few weeks with him now, she had come to understand that Harry's obsession with this project of his was nearly all-consuming and he was unusually focused on completing it as quickly as possible. While this hyper-focused dedication to acquiring knowledge was something that she very much approved of, Hermione wished his motives were less on the stupid fantasy weapon and more on his schoolwork and figuring out his career choice.

"I wonder if I could regulate the length by putting a 'raidō' here?" Harry muttered to himself again. "And maybe if I add a 'jēra-' here, I can start the looping feature?"

Letting out a low sigh, Hermione tried to focus herself back on her own work. With Harry's dedication to his project, it was all too easy for her to get distracted and join him in his research. Because, even though she disapproved of him making such a weapon, it was still very fascinating research! And Runes were among her most favorite of class subjects, right along with Arithmancy.

'At least Ron's not here to bother us again,' she thought in relief. Despite Ron's increasing interest in Harry's project, the redhead was disgruntled by how much of the project involved pure and boring research instead of the exciting experiments. As such, he'd taken to going off and spending time with the other Gryffindor boys of their year, though he did occasionally pop in to check up on the project. Both to make sure that the two of them were 'still alive' as he put it as well as to check on the progress of Harry's 'Sun-sword' as the redhead had taken to calling it (much to Harry's mounting annoyance: it was a lightsaber, dammit!).

Hermione was less than pleased that Ron merely wanted the results of Harry's project, without putting in any of the hard work and help that she had contributed. That Harry would likely still bless the Ron with a fully functional lightsaber upon his inevitable success only further vexed the bushy haired academic. Still, Ron's laziness was his loss alone. Already Hermione knew that this singular obsession of Harry's nerd-hood would ensure a place in the history books for them. She only felt angered that a third name would also likely be credited, despite his total lack of contribution.

Saturday, September 24, 1994
Harry's workshop, Third Floor, West Wing

"Ready for ignition!" Harry chirped, his face practically glowing as he shivered and nearly bounced in place in his excitement, like a child in a candy store.

"What's the trial number for this one again? Ron asked excitedly,

"Trial number is 4.2.1" Hermione answered tersely.

Hermione was actually slightly displeased by Ron's presence at this trial, but Harry had insisted. Ron might not have been academically invested in his project the way Hermione was, but Harry could feel his first friend's enamorment with the Jedi's chosen tool. Such love for the project Harry had dedicated his summer towards should be rewarded, and now that he was going to put his dream to a true test. With his latest version, Model 4.2.1, all the pieces of his research were now going to come together. If he'd succeeded, the end result would be a prototype lightsaber. Granted, because it was a prototype there would still be a lot of problems that needed fixing. This was merely a testing of the proof of concept.

Lately, Ron had been doing his very best to not pay Harry's ramblings too much attention by this point. He'd even tried to parse through Harry's note-tomb. Yet to the sixth son of Arthur Weasley, both Harry's ramblings, his eldritch handwriting, the maze of cross-referenced sources of information between various magical and science textbooks and clippings, and many diagrams of this or that doodad that needed to be studied. All of it had all just jumbled together into a nonsensical mishmash that he'd long since given up trying to understand on his own. Too much of the project relied on knowledge that Ron just simply did not know or could even comprehend.

Frankly, all Ron wanted was for Harry to finish his project, so that he could show off his newest toy to his siblings. Just like his camaraderie with Harry, having his own sun-sword was something he'd have that none of his elder brothers would. Shallow yes, but as the unremarkable sibling among seven, Ron would take what he could get. "Let's hope it works…"

"It'll work," Harry said, absolute certainty in his voice. "I know it will! Maybe not for very long, like maybe a minute or two because the magic and electrical demands are very high. But it'll work!"

"Wicked." Ron said, trying to sound hopeful and supportive, before sighing and turning his attention focused back to Harry's note-tomb. He'd already made several attempts to read through this book, but between the technical jargon copied from more technical texts and Harry's handwriting. It was infinitely more interesting to query Harry and Hermione on what they were doing.

"Right!" Harry agreed, noticing Ron's interest. Taking the lightsaber hilt into his hand carefully, Harry ran his finger over the trigger button with a tentative rub. "Okay, proceeding to activation test in 3…2…1…"

Reaching inside himself for that familiar spark of energy he'd come to realize was his magic, Harry channeled it through his hand and into his creation at the same time he pressed down on the button. Immediately, he felt his magic start draining away from him at an alarming rate. If he'd have tried to explain the sensation to a muggle, the closest he could come to was being stuck underwater and holding his breath. The longer drain lasted, the more badly he kicked for the surface in a growing need for fresh air to breathe. But in this case, rather than trying to take in life-giving air, he was subconsciously trying to hold in his magic while fighting to expel the amount needed to fuel his creation.

But that push/pull war he was experiencing was all a subconscious battle that he easily ignored in favor of staring at the pulsing blade of orange-white plasma he was holding. Thanks to the insulating runes they'd added, the overpowering heat of the plasma was all safely contained within the blade itself. However, Harry winced slightly as he felt the hilt he held begin to grow uncomfortably warm his hand. 'Clearly, I underestimated just how strong the runes needed to be.' But that wasn't the only thing that caused him to wince.

When designing the runes for the 'self-perpetuating containment', Harry and Hermione had realized that in order to achieve their goal they needed to have the plasma move in a spiraling manner up the length of the ward scheme before reaching the looping point and circling back into the hilt. In essence, the lightsaber was just a really tightly wound spiraling of plasma that spun at high speeds as it traveled up and down the length. But clearly the containment runes still needed quite a bit of work! Rather than the straight and perfectly focused blade that he'd been expecting, the plasma was coiling and writhing in an almost uncontrolled manner. 'The containment runes must need to be even more tightly wound together than they are. There must be opening somewhere along their lengths, which is allowing the two arcs of plasma to escape and clash with one another. If that's the case, it would make sense for the blade to look like that.' This barely controlled manner gave the blade a menacing (if admittedly rather cool) appearance.

"It works…" Ron breathed out, awe in his voice as he stared wide-eyed at what Harry held in his hand. Finally, for the first time, Ron started to fully understand just why his friend was so obsessed with this project. If for no other reason, that weapon looked wickedly awesome! "Bloody hell, it works, mate!"

"No, that's not right," Hermione spoke up, looking critically at the blade with a deep frown. "There's something wrong with the ward scheme. It must need to be tighter."

"We can debate that later," Harry interrupted before the two could start another argument. Turning to the row of desks they'd set up earlier, he continued with, "We've still got some tests to perform."

Without waiting for a reply from his friends, he raised up the writhing blade and started swinging it. Upon each of the desks was an object: a split log they'd taken from the forest, a large rock from the lake shore, a broken piece of a car engine, and a chicken egg that was nestled underneath a magic shield. With one swing each, a series of explosive sparks went flying off the blade as Harry easily chopped the log, rock, and engine into two pieces. But when he swung at the translucent blue shield, the saber blade bounced off it harmlessly. By this point, despite having it active for only a few moments, Harry was already gasping for breath.

Turning to face Hermione, he held up the blade in a defensive stance and nodded beckoningly towards her. Already knowing her role, Hermione raised her wand, "Expelliarmus!" Though she only casually cast it at half-strength, it still closed the distance almost faster than Harry could react. Thankfully, he only needed to shift the blade to the side a little to intercept the magic bolt. It was actually quite similar to blocking a thrown baseball Harry would reflect later. The impact wasn't all that great, just enough to strain the hilt slightly in his grip. And he was smiling broadly, if exhaustedly, as he watched the spell bounce away harmlessly to the side without pulling his weapon from his hands.

"Test complete," Harry said, eyes drooping heavily as he sagged on his feet. He had just enough time to thumb the button again, retracting the blade back into the hilt, before he collapsed in a dead heap on the floor, Ron and Hermione crying out to him in the background as his world turned black.

(Tellemicus' Note) Just for the record, this isn't where I wanted to end the chapter. However, I felt that I'd neglected this story long enough and it would be better to post what I had rather than leave you guys hanging. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Fiori and I worked pretty hard to try and keep things reasonably close to canon while also trying to show a more realistic setting for what drives Harry towards becoming what all know he will be.

As you can see, we decided to add in quite a few more scenes involving researching and experimentation for the various prototypes. And for those of you who are wondering about what the last prototype looked like, just picture Kylo Ren's saber (without the crossguard). I know I left out quite a few other potential research scenes and showing him acquiring new muggle knowledge, like Harry learning electronics and building new circuit boards and whatnot for controlling the lightsaber. But while I didn't mention them, don't think that I forgot about them!

Anyway, I think this'll have to do for the time being. I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter out just yet, but it shouldn't be too long. There's a bit of character interactions that are taking place that are giving me fits. But once we get through those, the rest of the chapter should come along fairly easily...I hope.