A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

STAR WARS/HARRY POTTER
ULTIMATE WIZARD: LEGACY OF THE FORCE
Episode I: The Rising Force

Ravaged by war, the Jedi Knights
are all but scattered. Many of the
more well known Jedi Enclaves
have been decimated by the Sith.

In an effort to preserve the Jedi
Histories, Jedi Archivist, Kaden
Morr and his apprentice, Anton
Evans made an attempt to flee
with as much of the histories as
they possibly could.

However, during the attack, on the
Jedi Library on Ossus, the ship they
had boarded was badly damaged as
they entered hyperspace, sending
them into the unknown reaches of
the Galaxy...

She knew she was special.

She always had been, despite what her daddy had tried to tell her. She could feel a great power within her and sometimes could feel wisps of it within a few others. However, she was stronger than them.

More special.

Her daddy would vehemently deny this fact and she knew it. She could sometimes literally feel it within her. Something in his eyes said it was so. Something he wanted to remain hidden from her and her baby sister. But Petunia Evans, for the life of her, could not figure out why.

It wasn't long before Petunia would find another boy who was special like her and her sister. The boy was far from handsome and had rather greasy hair. His eyes also contained great sadness and pain. Petunia wanted to reach out to the boy, comfort him. Let him know he had someone to be his friend. So, mustering up her courage, she did the only thing she could do. She got her own best friend, her baby sister, Lily. After all, the three of them were special. The three of them should stick together.

It was an excellent plan at first. Unfortunately, the greasy boy was instantly enamored by Lily and Petunia knew this was more than a passing crush, though Lily seemed to be rather oblivious. As the years progressed, Petunia couldn't help but feel Lily was being pulled away from her. Lily, who was special like Petunia, who had been her best friend for as long as she could remember, was being stolen away from her by THAT boy... That... that Severus Snape!

She had seen him first. She had discovered his powers, found that he was like herself and Lily. She had sought to befriend him when no one else would. And yet he had the audacity to ignore her, to talk down to her... To take Lily away from HER! Lily Evans, her sister and best friend, was now the best friend of THAT boy... That Severus Snape and Petunia could only wonder if, in time, she would forget about her. Forget about little Petunia Evans, her sister, her friend, her confidante...

Then IT happened. Lily's power manifested.

Lily's powers had grown. Lily's powers had begun to affect the world around them. Knowing their father wanted nothing more to pretend they were normal, Petunia did what she could to shelter these odd occurrences from any and everyone. Especially their father. Unfortunately, as much as Petunia wanted to hide in the shadows, afraid and ashamed of what she was, Lily was the opposite, so bold and so brave...

The seed was planted. A slight resentment was born. However, Petunia could not bring herself to hate her sister. Her lovely, perfect sister who had a heart of gold. Her sister, who more often than not, was more special than her.

Of course the turning point came.

The letter came.

She hid it from her parents. She didn't know what her father would think of it. Like her, this letter... It was special. One that would take her off to a school where she could learn to harness those strange and wonderful powers. She could step up to a world of destiny she had always dreamed of. She would be special, she would be great. A giggle broke through her reverie and she looked to her sister and her parents, and more importantly, her father.

She grimaced in thought.

She was special. She knew it. Lily was even more so. She could easily see it as clearly as the small amount of darkness that was more inherent in Severus than in others. Petunia was a rolling cloud on the brink of a storm. Furious and powerful, raging and yet serene. But Lily... Lily was already beyond that. She was a whirlwind, as if hand chosen by fate herself. Petunia knew that no matter what, Lily would always be the more special one.

But Petunia could live with that. She'd come to grips with it long ago.

Then there were her parents to worry about. How would they react? Her mother was easy to read. The woman only wanted what was best for her daughters. Her one mission in life seemed to be that whatever it took, her family would be happy. And for that, Petunia admired Rose Evans, her mother. She knew her mother would support herself and Lily no matter their endeavors. Her father though...

Anton Evans was a hard man to read. He was stern and well disciplined. Petunia always sought his approval because she always felt something was missing; like she didn't quite stack up to his expectations. Petunia knew what she had to do. It was hard, painful even, but she knew she must.

In secret, she wrote back to the school. Turned her back on her destiny, her powers and all that made her special. With luck, she would help Lily do the same, as she knew Lily sought her father's approval every bit as much as Petunia did and she knew that Lily would be crushed by her father's disappointment. When she had done that, Petunia felt something stir, something change, yet she couldn't place it.

She knew she made the right decision. Yet she couldn't help but wonder...

Months passed by as they normally did, but something was off... Different and it bothered, irritated Petunia to no end. To compound matters, there seemed to be this wall, this invisible barrier between herself and her sister. And of course it happened. Lily did something amazing with her powers. But before Petunia could silence the girl, Severus happened upon them. And then he told Lily, and Petunia, of Hogwarts, a most wonderful school with Magic and wands and all sorts of amazing things.

Petunia saw it, the light in Lily's eyes, the excitement. She had to crush that look, smoother it and fast. Petunia became scared and angry and verbally lashed out at Severus. However, years of friendship with Petunia and Lily had made him become much more than the shy, lonely, under confident boy with little self-esteem and he stood up to her. Petunia saw her carefully laid plans smothered to ashes as Lily took his side.

Things only went from bad to worse when Lily's eleventh birthday came.

Due to Severus' interference, Petunia could not convince her sister to turn away from her powers, her destiny and Petunia knew the dreaded day would come when Lily would step into shoes she herself had been too afraid to fill. Her parents were happy and proud, though Petunia could tell her father was less than enthusiastic. He knew something, she was sure of it, but she dared not to bring it up. After all, she was 'normal', she wasn't as fantastic as Lily with her 'strange' and 'unusual' powers.

Of course, Lily went to Hogwarts.

The time her sister was at that boarding school, Petunia's resentment grew.

She hated herself for turning her back on what Lily fully embraced, she quickly grew to hate Severus for whisking her sister away from her, and most of all, she hated Lily for leaving her, going off on an adventure Petunia would never get to experience, much to her own regret. However, Petunia had no one to blame but herself, and she was willing to put aside her budding dislike of how things were until Lily returned from school. Lily had changed, she and Severus were now closer than before, and it seemed as if Petunia was the 'odd man out'. The feeling was only reinforced by Severus' superior attitude because Petunia 'didn't have magic'.

Petunia never bothered to correct him, nor had she ever told Lily or her parents about the letter she had received and declined. She merely kept it all to herself, her hatred for Severus Snape simmering and, by extension, her resentment of her sister growing.

As the years passed, the resentment grew.

Lily was becoming more secretive and withdrawn, and more and more powerful and magnificent as Petunia felt her fledgling powers fading from her. It wasn't fair! To top things off, their father was becoming more and more enamored with "The Wizarding World" and was proud of Lily and her accomplishments. Once more, Petunia felt as if she was being shunted aside, Lily was dominating everything and everyone around her.

Petunia had always known Lily was special. That her sister was more special than she. But now, it seemed, Petunia was insignificant. She didn't matter. Not to her parents, not to Severus, not to anyone. It just wasn't fair! Even after Lily and Severus had quit being friends, things were so different now. Lily was too different, her life was elsewhere and Petunia just couldn't bring herself to care enough about her sister to close the distance that had formed over the years.

And Severus...

Over time, the young man had become bitter and cold. Only Lily seemed to be close to him, yet it seemed Lily could not see the darkness with in him that repulsed Petunia. It had been small, insignificant at first, but then it became a festering, oozing blight on his soul. It had become like a thick wooly shroud and Petunia knew that no good could come from it.

Then came that summer where Lily had not only distanced herself from Petunia, but Severus as well. The dark taint of Severus' soul had turned into a vile stain of black ichor. She was glad Lily had distanced herself from Severus, the young lad, aside from being mildly unpleasant, was dangerous. She was certain something sinister would result of his actions. Unfortunately, for her, as her powers waned, she could no longer clearly see the path he was so dangerously traversing.

Petunia had hoped to bridge the distance between herself and her sister, but those plans were derailed once more. This time in the form of Anton Evans, their father. The man, who had reluctantly been accepting of Lily and her burgeoning powers, was now fully accepting her with open arms. Furthermore, he was proud of her and let her and Petunia know it seemingly every chance he got. Her mother had constantly gushed over Lily during the summer months as it was, and sometimes during the time she was away. No, it appeared her father, who had been so biased against Lily and her unique circumstances, was now welcoming her with open arms celebrating in her 'abnormalness'.

It was the last straw for Petunia.

The rift was irreversible, irreparable. Even if she wanted to, the rift between herself and her sister had become too great. The two would have row after row that summer. When Lily left back to 'her world', devastated and confused, Petunia would accept a marriage proposal from a man who was normal and average in nearly every sense of the word.

Petunia did not love Vernon Dursley, at least not at first. However, he was as different from the rest of her family and was somewhat well off, having just been promoted to a management position at a drill company called 'Grunnings'.

As time progressed, she began to distance herself from her parents. Her hatred and resentment of Lily and her life and accomplishments began to spread to other aspects of her life. When her father had confronted her about Vernon, something in Petunia snapped. The incident with her father would be the last she'd ever see her parents before they were killed by one of Lily's kind. Killed by a dark wizard that was apparently so fearsome, the Aurors, as they'd referred to themselves, were afraid to speak his name as they spoke of the death of her parents.

Petunia scoffed at this behavior. She found it laughable, distasteful, and absurd.

Further disgusted with her sister's strange and abnormal world, she cut all further ties with her sister, only receiving to bits of correspondence afterwards. One, a wedding invitation between her sister and someone named "Potter", and another announcing the birth of her sister's child (she refused to acknowledge the boy as her nephew), a boy with such a common name who would no doubt be as abnormal as his parents.

She would never hear anything more of her sister and her sister's world until that dreaded Halloween when she received word that her sister was dead and she and her family had her sister's mongrel forced upon them.

What Petunia Evans- or rather Petunia Dursley- would not realize, until many years later, was that, like Lily, she was more special than she appeared, even to herself. Like Lily, she could bond with people easily and even influence them and their actions, just not on the same scale.

When THAT child first arrived on their doorstep, Vernon Dursley had been reluctantly accepting of Harry. After all, family was family, even if Petunia had been estranged from their lot, the boy, Harry, could not be blamed for the sins of either the mother or the father. It wouldn't be long and he would subconsciously change his opinion, Petunia's perpetual resentment and hatred slowly changing his perception of his despicable nephew and his world.

Ever since she was a small girl, Lily Evans knew she was different.

She didn't know how, she didn't know why, she just knew. She and her elder sister, Petunia, were heirs to a great and mystical power, inheritors of some legendary source of destiny.

Whenever Lily questioned her father about it, he would deflect her questions, if not outright ignore her. He would shrug her off and refused to discuss it. Her own sister had done much the same. She was certain Petunia knew what she knew, yet Petunia refused to acknowledge their great and wondrous abilities, wanting to be absolutely perfect in the eyes of their father.

Lily's suspicions were confirmed the night Petunia's letter came. For years Petunia had been sheltering Lily and her powers from others, their father especially. She had tried to make Lily 'more normal' and each day Lily could feel something eating away at her. It was as if her sister was far away and it wasn't long before Lily felt the loss of something between herself and her sister.

Lily would always hauntingly remember the day when the distinct pain of loss overcame her. The day her sister sent back her letter, turning away from the glorious destiny before her, whether it was for approval from their father or fear, Lily would never know.

Severus didn't help much either.

He was special, like Petunia and herself. Unlike herself, Severus didn't have a Petunia. He was a sad, lonely boy with no one to help him or hold him. Lily had been horrified when she heard of his father, Tobias, and his hatred of wizards and witches and the tortures Severus and his mother went through on days when life was particularly harsh on Tobias—an occurrence that would rapidly become more and more frequent.

Lily would steel her resolve. She promised herself she would be there for Severus; learn more about their burgeoning powers. She couldn't let him go it alone.

Lily realized that accompanying Severus may eventually mean abandoning Petunia, but Severus needed her more. So when her letter came, two years after Petunia's had come, Lily was excited. She knew then and there which path she would choose.

Lily Evans would become a witch.

Her mother, of course, was really excited. She couldn't help but be amazed at Lily and her abilities. Her father, on the other hand, had been happy for her, but it was a bit more...constrained. Petunia, on the other hand, felt cold and betrayed by her younger sister.

As the years went by, Lily could feel her sensory abilities became more refined, more focused. She found that her father was not all that he appeared to be. He too had a power similar to what she was learning to harness at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She also found that Petunia, despite not going to Hogwarts, had grown slightly more powerful over the years and effectively had more control than even Lily herself. Lily accurately surmised that this was due to Petunia ignoring what made her special, what set her apart from others, blocking her own powers, sealing them deep inside.

It wasn't long before Lily found that she also had precognitive powers. Time and again, she would foil even the cleverest and elaborate of plans constructed by James Potter and his band of marauding pranksters.

When the visions started, she was afraid. Coupled with the fact that some of the things she tried to fix with her precognitive powers became much worse, Lily began to ignore the visions, vowing to do nothing, to not interfere no matter the consequences.

Ironically, it would be James Potter who would be there for her and comfort her when she needed it. She had begun to discount her visions as mere coincidence and deja vu until one terrible nightmare when she foresaw the death of her mother and father and the unbridgeable rift between herself and her sister becoming irreversibly larger.

Despite knowing what was to come, the pain did not hurt any less.

She had sworn to herself she would never again ignore such visions ever again. A promise she would soon break for the sake of her marriage and the love of her husband.

Her instincts were never wrong. Her visions would often come to pass if nothing could be done to prevent it. Her intuition had saved hers and James' life on many occasions, thrice from the very clutches of the Dark Lord, Voldemort, himself.

It was against everything she had ever known, everything she had learned from the deaths of her parents at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters that the switch of the Secret Keeper was made from Sirius Black to Peter Pettigrew. She knew Remus Lupin was harmless, but old prejudices die hard, and Voldemort had managed to turn not only a group of tightly knitted best friends against one another, but whole families as well.

The Ancient and Noble House of Black was a prime example of this, as Sirius had been forced out of his childhood home for siding with the Potters and their personal beliefs and Andromeda Black had run off to marry that Muggleborn Ted Tonks.

All the while, Lily's main rival and, should she dare say, best friend, Narcissa Black had upheld family honor and married into another Wizarding Line of pureblood and married a man whom had attended Hogwarts a few years above them, an arrogant, yet charismatic man named Lucius Malfoy.

Bellatrix Black, known for beauty that surpassed that of BOTH of her sisters and many other witches despite very conservative use of glamour potions and charms, had married into a pureblood family to a man several years older than they.

Though she went along with James' decision to change the Secret Keeper from Sirius to Peter, that didn't mean she would rest until she felt her son, Harry, was adequately protected. She was almost certain that she would never think he was, especially with some of the visions she had been having about him.

It was absurd. Unthinkable, and yet...

When she gazed down at her son...

She had the strangest feeling of destiny. She could already see it in his bright, emerald green eyes, that seemed so much like her own and yet... So much more, that he would be great.

So, as they remained hidden from the rest of the world, Lily searched and searched until she finally came across a certain tome. It was old and the binding was barely holding it together, but it was still rather useful. Yet, as she researched the spell she knew she'd find within it, she couldn't help but get a feeling of dread within her stomach that something extremely bad was going to happen.

A few months later, Lily and James Potter would be dead.

A few months later, Harry Potter would be "safe", within the confines of a tiny cupboard under the stairs; never truly appreciated for the path of destiny that had already been chosen for him...

Much like his mother before him, Harry Potter knew he was different.

Much like his aunt before him, he had always known he was special.

It had always been that way.

He always questioned this, though never out loud. He would constantly ponder why he was different and how he was different during many sleepless nights in his small little cupboard under the stairs of Number Four Privet Drive.

It wouldn't be until he was four years old that he would realize just how different he was.

You see, at Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, there lived an average, normal family. Well, by all appearances anyway. They were called 'The Dursleys'. They consisted of a walrus of a man by the name of Vernon, a shrill woman with a horse-ish face named Petunia and a rotund boy who closely resembled a 'pig in a wig' named Dudley.

There was also the other person who lived as Number Four. He was about as Un-Dursley-ish as they came.

A small boy with emerald green eyes, wild black hair that not even the finest of combs could tame, and a rather jagged looking lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

He is the aforementioned 'Harry Potter'.

Now... Where were we?

Ah yes...

Harry Potter, the one who was different from the rest. The one who was special. Perhaps even more special than any other that had come before him.

Unbeknownst to himself and his cousin, Dudley, Harry Potter was no ordinary boy. He was the son of a Wizard and a Witch, people with the ability to utilize magic. Within the magical society, he was the last scion of a long line of Wizards of great influence and power, be it magical or political. Now, among 'Muggles', or 'normal' folk, that would make him special. In the 'Wizarding World' however, it didn't amount to much.

However, he was special, even amongst Witches and Wizards. You see, from the time Harry Potter was merely a year old he was the lone survivor of a vicious attack and instantly heralded as a hero. He was a phenomenon, a celebrity in their world before he could properly walk or talk.

Why? You ask. It's really quite simple. Harry Potter, at the age of one year and three months, defeated the most evil and powerful wizard of the century, ending an eleven year reign of terror, horror, and destruction.

How? Well... Not even the best and the brightest are all too certain as to what exactly happened on that heartbreakingly sad Halloween night. All that was certain was that a friend of the Potters betrayed them to the Dark Lord, who promptly went to dispatch two of his greatest enemies and their child in a single stroke. Three flashes of green light and an explosion later and young Harry Potter was left orphaned and homeless.

Harry Potter, on that night, became the sole survivor of the Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, and Slayer of the Dark Wizard Voldemort.

However, we are not done. For you see, Harry is special in more ways than one. He is also the heir of another power. A power of great peace and serenity, and yet also devastating and horrid. A power he would discover when shortly after he turned four years of age.

Now, the Dursleys were not nice people. Well...not if your name happened to be 'Harry Potter'. For as long as Harry could remember, his family—Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his cousin, Dudley—had seemed to have made it their personal goals in life to make and keep him miserable.

Within the household, much like it was their primary responsibility to keep Harry miserable, it was Harry's primary responsibility to cook, clean, and take punishments for wrongs he committed (whether he actually did or not), and things Dudley might have done and blamed on Harry (which amounted to nearly everything).

Harry had long since stopped trying to rebuke Dudley's claims as The Dursleys would ALWAYS take Dudley's side in the grand scheme of things, even if they had been in the room when he did it. So if Harry wasn't being punished for that vase Dudley broke, he was being punished for "corrupting" their "perfect" son with his "freakishness".

Whatever that meant.

After another ill-fated escapade of the morning, Harry was quick to escape to one of his many hiding places to get away from the madness that was the Dursleys. After all, out of sight, out of mind.

He didn't even think about going to the park. The first and only time he had done that, the neighbors had talked when they had seen a four year old Harry going to the park by himself. That merely resulted in more trouble for him once Vernon arrived home.

Not like other children were willing to even talk to him, let alone play with him or be his friend.

Typically, Harry would retreat to the backyard. However, THAT spot was currently being monopolized by Dudley and his best friend, Piers Polkiss. Not a confrontation he particularly wanted at the moment. So he opted to avoid the 'pig' and the 'rat' by avoiding them all together and retreating to another area to keep himself hidden.

His cupboard wasn't an option either. With Piers around, or any company for that matter, unless he was already in his cupboard (and told not to leave), he was to not even go near it until after they left. Otherwise people would talk, and the Surrey rumor mill talking about the Dursleys NEVER ended well for him.

So he went to the one place left available. It was also one of the few places people wouldn't think to look for him.

The attic.

He tended to avoid going there though. He got weird feelings whenever he was exceedingly calm or in times when the stresses of the world became too much for him. But unlike those other times, curiosity won out over his fears. Instead of shying away from the feeling, he embraced it, he followed it. When he did, he came across two rather worn looking chests. Both were sealed, yet unlocked.

A feeling of unease surged through him, yet his four year old inquisitiveness made him press on as he slowly opened the first trunk.

Whatever he had been expecting, this wasn't quite it.

There was an assortment of odd trinkets and some strange looking clothes. Picking up one of the strange looking objects, he examined it. It was smooth, not really heavy, but not exactly weightless. He ran his fingers on it when suddenly it began to glow.

Startled, Harry dropped it and the visage of a man appeared over the object.

"Lily... Petunia... If you're watching this... I am gone..." The figure said mournfully, "I have known for several months that my end would come. How? Because I am more like the both of you than either of you think."

Harry blinked.

This person... This man... He knew both his mother and his aunt... He was like them? What did that mean? How were they different? Was he like them?

Questions streamed through his mind as the figure went on.

"For many years, I have kept this secret, and the secrets of 'The Force'. Both of you feel it clearly. I can sense that it is strong in both," the man explained, "However, the people on this planet, call it 'Magic'. They train in its' usage and call themselves 'Witches' and 'Wizards'. But I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I?"

"As hard as it might be for you to believe, I am not originally from this planet," the man said, "I was actually born on a moon several light-years from here called Nar Shaddaa, above a planet called Nal Hutta. I was discovered early on, and taken as an apprentice, destined to become a protector of the entire Galaxy, a Jedi. I was eventually placed under the tutelage of Master Kaden Morr, the Jedi Archivist."

"Unfortunately, times of war came and ravaged the Jedi. Even after centuries of war and eradication, neither the Jedi nor the Sith could gain dominion over the other for very long. As a result of the latest series of battles, the Jedi Praxeum, the Academy, and the Archives were destroyed. My master and I barely escaped the crumbling Archives with a small amount of our histories intact. Our ship was damaged when we went into Hyperspace and we crash landed on this planet, our ship was irreparably damaged, at least with the rather primitive technology of Earth being what it is."

"Even to this day, I am not sure what was lost when we crashed landed here," the Jedi mused, "I know several holocrons, Jedi and Sith alike, much like this one, were lost, and some of them damaged- perhaps lost forever. I am proud to say that most of the training holocrons have made it. Everything from the defensive Soresu, to the acrobatic Ataru and even the fierce Juyo and Vaapad styles. There is even one on lightsaber construction, should you girls decide to follow my path. However, be wary. Remain mindful of your feelings. Many of these holocrons are dangerous, filled with the Darkside of the Force and Ancient Sith teachings. Among these is the personal Lightsaber style of the Sith Lord Tulak Hord, the greatest Lightsaber duelist in existence, and the damaged remains of Darth Revan's holocron that was almost completely destroyed by Darth Bane."

"Lily, you will find the Jedi teachings far different than those of your school. I admit I was astonished by the number of Force users on this planet, especially since many of them, yourself included, draw upon the Darkside of the Force," the Jedi commented, "I was wary of sending you off to that school. I was relieved when Petunia turned away from it, but I couldn't have been prouder of you when you came back to us that first year. As far as I can tell typical Wizards and Witches do not feel the adverse effects of drawing upon the Darkside, and I speculate it is due to the use of their wands that with their unique cores somehow dampen its' effects and influence."

The holographic Jedi looked mournful, "Lily... Petunia... I only hope you two make up. Don't let mine and your mother's deaths keep you two apart. I sense dark times approaching, family support, more than anything, will be needed in these dark times... Farewell..."

The hologram faded out, but Harry remained seated where he was. He couldn't believe it... He just saw his grandfather... It was all overwhelming... Wizards... Witches... Jedi... Magic... The Force...

It all seemed...

Surreal...

He was saddened by the fact that, despite his grandfather's final wishes, his mother and aunt never made up. Many things did not make sense either. If his mother had been a witch, was his father a wizard? Why did Aunt Petunia hate his mother? So many questions and he was certain that even if he were to ask, his Aunt would not tell him.

Through it all, he couldn't help but be more than a little overwhelmed. One question came crashing through his musings.

What did this mean for him?

Was he a wizard? A Jedi? Could he be both? The holocron, as his grandfather had called it, implied it was possible. What should he do?

Harry absently picked up another Holocron, idly activating it as he let his thoughts drift, his four year old mind going into overdrive.

This time, instead of his grandfather, it was another man in robes similar to the ones Harry found in the trunk. This man had no hair and was dark skinned.

"I am Jedi Master Mace Windu," said the Jedi. "This is a recording of my own personal style, a seventh form of Lightsaber combat, Vaapad, based on the incomplete Ancient Jedi style, Juyo . It is faster, stronger and fiercer than any other lightsaber form. It heavily relies on being able to draw on one's own inner darkness, and as such, requires the utmost skill and mental discipline..."

Fumbling with the Holocron, Harry shuddered as he deactivated it. He didn't like the idea of drawing on any kind of darkness. Something in the back of his mind told him he wasn't ready for such knowledge yet. Looking through some of the other holocrons, it wasn't long before he stumbled across two other holocrons that held Lightsaber styles, this time the first and third Lightsaber combat forms, Shii-cho and Soresu respectively.

He also found another Jedi holocron that looked rather old.

It was a recording of... Well 'man' didn't quite describe him... A Jedi Master named Zhar Lestin who, while humanoid in looks, had bumps on his head and two rather large tentacles that sprouted from them. His skin was also more of a rust color. This, more than anything, convinced Harry that perhaps his grandfather wasn't lying about coming from outer space... Still, Harry was mesmerized by the words Zhar spoke. He was lecturing on the Jedi Code.

"There is no emotion, there is peace..."
"There is no ignorance, there is knowledge..."
"There is no passion, there is serenity..."
"There is no chaos, there is harmony..."
"There is no death, there is the Force..."

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon studying the holocrons, learning what he could. He also discovered many other items in the attic, such as a his grandfather's lightsaber, a book on Ancient Sith Translations, a holocron of the Force Form called 'Force Affinity' by Jedi Master Vrook Lamar, and a variation of Lightsaber combat called Jar'Kai, by Jedi Master Kavar, and a pair of wooden swords.

Harry also came across the damaged holocron of Darth Revan, but could not get it to work. However, he did find Darth Bane's holocron interesting. The prophecy and legend of the Sith'ari was intriguing in the very least. He only wished he knew how to get Revan's holocron into working order as Darth Bane had made many references to things he had learned from the aforementioned Sith Lord's holocron. Bane had also talked about how many believed himself to be the Sith'ari, but he himself doubted it.

It was in that afternoon that Harry Potter decided he would begin his Jedi training, using the aids left behind by his grandfather. He would also make sure to attend the same school of magic that his mother had. He would become the world's first Jedi Wizard, using the bits and pieces he could gleam from the incomplete holocrons on the Jedi customs and their ways.

He would almost immediately begin the meditation techniques taught by Masters Yoda, Vrook and Kriea. Eventually, in the middle of the night, he would set to training his body, sneaking up to the attic and retrieving a wooden sword to practice his lightsaber forms in the backyard. There were also times where he would train in the Mandalorian and Echani hand to hand fighting styles, though they were impossible to prefect without a sparring partner.

Over the next seven years, Harry Potter would slowly change.

His hair was still the untamable scruffy mess, and his vibrant green eyes were still often compared to stained glass windows with the sun shining directly into them, or sparkling emeralds.

He still appeared to be the same skinny kid he had been in years prior, though now he was more lean than scrawny, as he would often knick some leftovers from the refrigerator to help build up his muscles from his constant training. Whenever anyone would notice, he would divert attention away from himself using an application of the Force known as the Jedi Mind Trick. Harry quickly learned that his Uncle Vernon was exceptionally susceptible to this technique and Dudley wasn't much different. His aunt, on the other hand...she seemed to have some form of natural resistance, though if he pressed hard enough, she too could be affected.

Harry became quite reserved and quiet for a child his age, and was rather introspective as well. He often projected an aura of seriousness that seemed to unsettle a few adults from time to time. He was a rather peaceful child too, not prone to fits or violence, opting not to fight, though sometimes found it necessary when dealing with his cousin and his gang.

Harry Potter was also rather popular amongst his peers, though none could ever say that they were close to the boy or was even his friend. Despite being friendly and polite with everyone he met, he was a bit of a loner.

Either way, he was often the only one who would regularly stand up to his cousin and his gang. These confrontations rarely resulted in physical altercations, but even when they did, Harry was the one that usually came out on top. He was the neighborhood hero amongst the children his age and a few years younger, though more often than not, adults still looked down on him.

Vernon and Petunia could often be heard proclaiming their son's accomplishments, as few as there were, while vilifying Harry all in the same breath.

He also managed to learn a small amount about the Force users on Earth, but not enough to make any solid assumptions. All he knew for sure was that they would be contacting him around his eleventh birthday to offer him a place at their school and that they revered him as some sort of celebrity. After all, he had met a few of them and they seemed to be in awe of him each time he came face to face with them.

The morning had started out like most any other. Harry was sitting in his cupboard meditating when Petunia banged on his door to wake up and help her prepare breakfast. Vernon was dutifully ignoring him, while Dudley was trying, and failing, to assert some sort of dominance over his cousin.

"Vernon, it looks like the morning post has arrived," Petunia commented as she handed the egg skillet over to Harry.

"Dudley, collect the mail," ordered Vernon distractedly.

"Why can't you make Harry do it!" whined Dudley.

"Boy, get the mail," Vernon amended. Harry rolled his eyes as Vernon continued to read his morning paper.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon..." said Harry as Petunia moved back to take over cooking eggs and sausages from Harry.

Harry picked up the morning post when he saw something quite odd. A letter address to him from...

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'Another branch of the Force...' thought Harry as he eyed the envelope with the dark green lettering and embroidery.

Harry distractedly gave Vernon the mail as he took his seat. He was so entranced at learning something even his grandfather's holocrons and datapads could not teach him that he never noticed Dudley peering over his shoulder.

"Dad! Harry's got a letter!" shouted Dudley snatching it out of Harry's hands with a speed that honestly surprised the Jedi Apprentice as he'd never thought his cousin would ever be capable enough to do just that.

"Dudley..." Harry warned.

Vernon chuckled, "Who would write to..."

Vernon paled when he saw what the letter was.

"Vernon, what is...?" Petunia paled and knew exactly what that letter was. They jumped when the letter suddenly jerked out of Vernon's hands right into Harry outstretched hand.

"It's mine," Harry said coldly.

"Why you little... I'm going to..." Vernon shouted.

Harry locked gazes with Vernon and interrupted him, "Sit down and eat breakfast."

"Sit down and eat breakfast..." Vernon repeated sitting down.

Petunia shrieked and Vernon began sputtering indignantly when he realized what happened.

"This is mine, I will not allow you to keep me from following my Mother's path," said Harry sternly.

"You ungrateful little wretch!" Petunia snapped, "All that nonsense ever got your mother was being blown up!"

"Blown up?" asked Harry incredulously. "What do you mean, blown up? I thought it was a car crash!"

"I don't know. We didn't get any details only that you were to remain with us," Petunia snapped, "If we'd have had any choice, I would have dumped you off at the nearest orphanage already!"

That had hit Harry hard.

It was one thing to know your relatives despised you; it was another to actually hear them say it. "Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon enough, then I can carry on both Grandfather's and Mum's legacies."

"Legacies!?" Petunia's eyes narrowed as she screeched in an indignant tone.

"But you didn't know, did you?" asked Harry rhetorically, "Grandfather wasn't as normal as you'd like to think. As much as you pretend to be."

"How dare..." Petunia began before a snap hiss sound silenced her.

Harry appeared to be holding a metallic rod with a glowing green rod coming out of the end.

It was a desparate move, he knew, but it was the only thing he could do to make his Aunt see the truth. His Force Powers could be considered a trick of some kind, a part of the magic that resided within him. His grandfather's lightsaber was the only definitive way to separate a Jedi from a Wizard in his Aunt Petunia's mind. Of course, in hindsight, it looked as if Harry was threatening his relatives with a strange weapon.

With luck, they wouldn't force him to use it.

"Had you bothered to go through his things in the attic, you'd have seen that he wasn't even from this planet," said Harry sternly, "That he wielded an energy very similar to magic, called The Force. He was a Jedi Knight, a protector of the Galaxy, and I plan to follow in his footsteps."

Petunia was now sputtering. Her face reddening in anger, but what seemed like a mysterious voice screamed out to Harry.

Jealousy.

Regret.

Envy.

"Shut up, you little whelp! My father was a good, kind, NORMAL person!" Petunia shouted.

Instead of shouting back, Harry looked at Petunia with sad eyes. "It hurts that despite all you did to please him, all the steps you took to be normal, Mum was still his favorite, because she did what you couldn't. She embraced her destiny while you ran away."

"Now you see here...!" shouted Vernon as he began to stand.

Harry glared at Vernon and thrust his hand out. "Sit!"

Using the Force, he forced Vernon back into his chair.

Harry then sighed as the green blade of the lightsaber retracted itself. "I'll be outside until I figure out how to contact this school."

"We're not paying for it! We're not giving you a single coin to go to that ruddy school where some crackpot can teach you silly little tricks," Vernon firmly told Harry.

"You will give me anything I require to leave this place," ordered Harry, who was far from intimidated by the large walrus of a man that was his uncle. His hand reached out, and several knickknacks flew from various shelves and began floating in a circle. He then closed his hand into a tight fist. Instantly, every last item had been crushed into small dust particles.

The Dursleys were silent. The unspoken 'Or else' was heard loud and clear as if actually spoken, or rather, shouted. It was more of a bluff on Harry's part. He'd always focused more on control, rather than power and didn't think he'd even barely be able to break Vernon's arm, let alone pulverize him.

However, Vernon did not know that.

Harry then went out to the back yard. The adrenaline was rushing out of his system, his body beginning to shake. Never before had he ever stood up so blatantly to his Aunt and Uncle.

Never before had he even thought of threatening them.

He didn't have to worry about them doing anything to his grandfather's things. Not just yet, anyways. The fear was too fresh in their minds. He knew all too well from Vernon that fear was a powerful motivator and that he, Harry that is, would have to be on guard for when they reverted back to their nastier selves. While the Dursleys were not outright abusive, physically anyway, Vernon was always rougher on Harry than was necessary sometimes. It wouldn't take much for Vernon to cross that invisible boundary, permanently crippling the aspiring Jedi Wizard, or worse.

Harry's mind began to drift as he meditated to calm his body down. It was then that he was brought out of his thoughts by a small horned owl flying down next to him. Harry knew this was odd behavior for the bird of prey and stared at it quizzically. The bird just tilted its' head to the side giving Harry that same blank stare.

"What do you want?" Harry asked it.

The owl merely hooted in response.

"I guess I shouldn't have expected for you to be able to answer, huh?" Harry asked rhetorically.

The owl merely bounced towards Harry and nipped at his hand. Harry jerked his hand away when he saw that the owl was intently staring at his hand, which still contained his letter from Hogwarts. "Are you some sort of carrier bird?"

The owl hooted in what Harry would assume was a yes, while bobbing its' head. Harry then began to read the letter. He had no idea where to get that stuff and he didn't want to ask his Aunt and Uncle, things between them were already strained as it was. Plus, he didn't want to have to show Vernon whether he could do as threatened or not. However, looking at the owl, he guessed, correctly, that this is what they meant by 'owl your response'.

"Would you be able to get my response back to the person who sent this to me?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure why, but he instinctively was able to trust the owl to do what he needed it to. "Wait here and I'll send a response back with you, all right?"

The owl hooted again as Harry went back into the house. He was relieved to see that instead of dragging him along, the Dursleys, along with Dudley's friend Piers, decided to go to the zoo without him.

Not wanting to keep the owl waiting long, Harry quickly penned a response and folded it, placing it in an envelope that Petunia kept in the antique hutch in the den. Remembering, the name on the letter, he wrote 'To: Professor M. McGonagall' on the front.

The eager fowl then took the envelope in its beak and flew off to parts unknown.

It hadn't been long—an hour at most—before he sensed the arrival of someone special nearby, shortly followed by a knock at the door was heard. Harry walked through the house to the front door. Checking the peep hole in the door, he saw a smartly dressed, stern looking woman with black hair pulled up into a bun.

Definitely someone he didn't want to cross.

Harry hesitantly opened the door and greeted the woman.

"Hello, how can I help you?" asked Harry.

She seemed a bit startled by his appearance.

"My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the stern woman introduced herself. "I'm here to assist you in picking up your things for the start of term, Mr. Potter."

She would never admit it, but she was a bit unnerved by his gaze. It almost seemed as if he was judging her, trying to perceive the truth through just a glance. It was a look she had seen on Lily's face time and again. To see it and those eyes on a face that looked remarkably like James' made her uneasy. Especially as she could not only see within him two people that were long dead, but a strong, unique persona underneath.

She had little doubts Harry Potter would be a dominating force in the future.

After a short moment of silence, Harry smiled warmly at her.

"Okay."