The Lightsaber
By: Tellemicus Sundance
#01: A New World Dawns

There was a powerful storm raging outside. The winds beat and swayed the stone walls and timber around him, attempting to rip the structure to pieces. Rain pelted everything under the power and guidance of the winds, drenching everything and everyone who were foolish or unlucky enough to get caught out in it. Lightning flashed through the clouds with considerable intensity and frequency, occasionally striking down at some high-rise or metallic structure. In many senses of the word, this storm was one to be remembered for the ages. But for all its power and ferocity, it was still unable to affect any type of change on the stone structure that stood upon the banks of the nearby coast.

Looking down carefully at the object that was nestled in the palm of his hand, a white-haired old man gazed at it with an intense scrutiny. The metallic rod with some small rubber strips lining the lower half with some small leather straps crisscrossing around the rest of it in a style reminiscent of a Japanese katana, making for an excellent grip. There was a strip of transparent and strong glass that was visible between the leather straps midway up the hilt, exposing a faintly glowing gem inside that was firmly held in place between some small clamps and other machinery. And above the gem and its housing chamber was a couple adjustment knobs and an activation button, set just under a disc that had an open ending. The overall object was covered in tiny runes hidden under the leather and rubber grips that were etched deeply into the metal surfaces, to avoid the runes getting damaged and deformed. A necessary and smart feat since the old device was covered in small nicks, scrapes, and scratches, showing the many years of usage it had endured in the hands of its creator.

"Grandpa," a young voice said from the open doorway of his room. "I'm scared."

The old man looked up, easily spotting the dark silhouette of his 5-year-old granddaughter and he smiled gently at the small red-haired child. Raising his arm, he beckoned the child inside. "Well, come on in, little one."

The little girl eagerly raced inside the man's bare, Spartan quarters and climbed up to sit on the side of his bed next to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, the child buried her face into his robes when an especially loud crash of thunder echoed through the room. Her grandfather just smiled understandingly as he wrapped her up in his arm, holding her gently but firmly, letting her draw comfort from his presence.

After a moment, the girl relaxed slightly and then noticed the device he held in his hand. "Grandpa, why do you have that out?"

"Ah, just remembering really old times," the old man answered, a wistful look crossing his face as he returned his gaze to what he held. "So many things happened, so many of them stupid, dangerous, or just unexpected. A new world was dawning around us back then, but we didn't know it at the time. And all of it happened because of this. This little thing right here caused so much death, so much devastation, and completely reshaped the world around us."

"Can you tell me the story, grandpa?" the girl asked, wide begging eyes looking at him. She loved hearing about her grandfather's adventures and he always had so many of them that she was never bored. But she had never heard him tell this particular story before.

"It's not really a happy story, my dear," he said, trying to change her mind quickly before she set herself firm.

"Please?" her begging eyes wider and wetter now. "I really wanna hear it!"

Sighing at the lost cause, he finally nodded. "Very well. It all started when I finally finished building this thing for the first time. It was something that had never been done before. And while it was very famous and popular beforehand, no one believed it was truly possible. And at the time, I didn't realize just what I had done or how it would change me or the world. All I cared about was that I finally had a weapon that I thought could help me defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort…"

August 1995

Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch-black and lightless. The star, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant grumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them.

For a split second, Harry thought he had done magic without meaning to, despite the fact that he'd been resisting as hard as he could. Then his reason caught up with his senses, he didn't have the power to turn off the stars. He turned his head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on his eyes like a weightless veil.

Dudley's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear. "W-What are you d-doing? St-Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I —"

"I said shut up!" Harry stood stock-still, turning his sightless eyes left and right. The cold was so intense that he was shivering all over, goose bumps had erupted up his arms, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He opened his eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing… It was impossible…They couldn't be here…Not in Little Whinging…He strained his ears. He would hear them before he saw them.

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimper. "W-Were are you? What are you d-do—?"

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed. "I'm trying to lis—" He fell silent as he heard what he'd been dreading. There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves. Something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Harry felt a horrible jolt of dread as he stood trembling in the freezing air.

"C-Cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley, shut—" WHAM!

A fist made contact with the side of Harry's head, lifting him off his feet. Small white lights popped in front of his eyes. For the second time in an hour, he felt as though his head had been cleaved in two. The next moment he had landed hard on the ground, and his wand had flown out of his hand.

"You moron, Dudley!" Harry yelled, his eyes watering with pain. He scrambled to his hand and knees, feeling around frantically in the blackness. He heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling. "DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

There was a horrible squealing yell, and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Harry felt a creeping chill behind him that could only mean one thing. There was more than one.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's – wand – come on – Argh! That's it!"

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and the breast pocket of his shirt, Harry grabbed to metallic pieces that were held there. One was long and shaped vaguely like some kind of sword hilt. The other was a metal disc with a slight protruding shroud over one end and a screw assembly engraved upon the other. Placing the two pieces together and hurriedly screwing the smaller disc to one end of the hilt, locking in place with an audible clamp, he hefted up the device and thumbed the activation button.

Like a fire that promised warmth and security during a long, cold winter's night, a shaft of bright bluish-white light sprang to life from the end of the disc's emitter. The strong light of the shaft cut through the encompassing darkness, illuminating everything within a five meter radius. In a strange sense, the blade of light brought with it the promise of hope and determination.

Turning around, Harry's stomach turned over as he spotted a towering figure heading towards him. The hooded creature glided through the air with a supernatural grace that was terrifying as it was swift. It had no feet or face beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came. Despite stumbling backwards, Harry raised his weapon threateningly, trying to ward the creature of darkness. But the entity ignored the glowing blade as it reached for him. Yelling out in a wordless cry, Harry swallowed his fear and swung the blade.

A piercing cry screeched from the creature's nonexistent mouth as the light flashed forward and sliced through its gray, slimy, scabbed flesh. The severed limb dissolved into ash as it fell, completely disintegrating before it'd even reached the ground. With a renewed sense of courage, Harry lunged forward again before the Dementor could recollect itself, stabbing his blade straight into its torso where a heart would've beat on any other living being.

The Dementor's following screech was so loud and deafening that it actually caused Harry's ears to ring, and probably would've easily shattered all glass within its radius. Thankfully the scream was quickly silenced as he yanked his weapon upwards, cutting through yet more of the Dementor as he pulled out the blade. Before he'd even managed to fully extract the weapon, the Dementor had already burst into a similar disintegrating ash and wispy shadows that quickly disappeared.

Turning around and holding his weapon up level with his head in an offensive stance, Harry faced where he knew Dudley had run off towards, ready to deal with the second one. But he quickly saw that the creature was already fleeing, having seen its brethren killed so easily. Lowering his weapon, Harry looked about the ground and finally spotted his dropped wand. Picking it up and pocketing it, he hurried over towards Dudley.

As he did, the moon, the stars, and the streetlamps burst back to life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again. Harry stood quite still, all his senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment, he became aware that his t-shirt was sticking to him, he was drenched in sweat. Once he was sure that the Dementor was not returning, he turned to face his cousin.

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering slightly and shaking, but also staring with wide eyes. As Harry bent down, he saw just what his cousin was staring at. In a strange way, Harry could see that Dudley's eyes were latched upon the blade. The look in his eyes was as though he were seeing something in it, something profound and awe-inspiring, as though it was the only thing that had kept him from giving into the power of the Dementor's all-happiness consuming aura. Pressing the button, he withdrew his weapon's blade with a sharp hiss, unscrewing the emitter, and pocketing the two pieces yet again.

"You okay, Dudley?" Harry asked, trying to sound gentle and not incite his cousin's wrath again.

"I—I—I…saw it," Dudley whispered, shaking even harder as an unknown imaged flashed before his eyes again.

"Yeah, kinda hard to miss a glowing blade right in front of—"

"No…That thing," Dudley interrupted. "I c-couldn't see it…o-or anything…Then you made the light come back…and I…saw it…It was disgusting."

Despite himself, Harry's eyebrows rose up in surprise. His cousin wasn't even the least bit concerned with what he saw Harry using to fight off the Dementors with. He was shaken because he had seen the Dementor itself. And that was what really surprised Harry. As creatures that were in many ways the 'purest' representation of the darker side of magic, Dementors were invisible to all beings with no magic. Could it be that his new weapon could somehow illuminate Dementors and make them visible to the common man? Definitely something to think on later.

Crouching down, he grabbed ahold of his cousin's arm and shoulder to help hoist him back to feet. "Come on, Big D, let's get you home."

Harry could honestly say that he'd never had a more aggravating, stressful, or loud argument with his uncle and aunt before. The moment Harry and Dudley had returned to their home, Petunia and Vernon had seen something wrong with Dudley and promptly attacked Harry with a long list of accusations and more than few threats. But with some unexpected and very heartening backup from Dudley, Harry had managed to ride his relatives' fury and explain most of what had happened. Though Vernon came very close to kicking Harry out once he got the idea of Harry being a criminal to the Magical World for 'using a magic sword', Dudley again came to Harry's rescue. So, instead of being kicked out, he was sentenced to isolation in his room for the remainder of his stay at Privet Drive.

It was close to midnight now and all was quiet in the house. Harry sat upon his bed, staring down at his weapon that he'd once again assembled and placed upon the bed in front of him. How had his weapon managed to harm and kill the Dementors? How had it somehow given Dudley the ability to see creatures that were supposedly invisible to the naked nonmagical human eye?

Harry wasn't egotistical enough to believe that his weapon was simply that powerful. He had more or less started designing, experimenting, and building it since he first set foot into Hogwarts four years ago. His experiments leapt forward years in advance when he started his Runes class, learning to enchant and place permanent enchantments onto objects that were anchored by the runes written upon them. Runes played a significant role in his creation of this weapon. With careful transfiguration of certain pieces, enchanted muggle electronics, a small potion of his own creation that could create plasma when a high-intensity light beam was passed through it, and a small ward erected around the emitter disc to contain the plasma blade, he knew that his weapon was something original.

But that still didn't explain to him just how it could do these other special effects without his knowing. He knew he didn't know enough about magic to have consciously built these abilities into the blade design. So how could they have happened? Granted, the weapon was half-magical. Perhaps the magic that created, maintained, and contained the blade is what allowed this to happen?

"Ugh, this doesn't make any sense," Harry muttered to himself.

A questioning hoot from his beloved familiar echoed across the room. Looking over at his beautiful snow-white owl, Hedwig, Harry gave her small, uncertain smile. "Sorry, girl, I just don't understand how my saber is apparently so powerful."

Hedwig just gave him a partial deadpan stare, as if to say 'Why do you care? It works, doesn't it?'

Chuckling despite himself, Harry nodded to the night bird. "You're right, it probably doesn't matter how or why. Just that it does."

A hesitant knocking on his door broke Harry from his thoughts. Reaching forward, he quickly swept his weapon under his pillow as he stood to his feet. After a quick examination that it was properly hidden, he moved over and opened the door partially, exposing Dudley outside.

"What is it, Dudley?" Harry asked, torn between 14 years of bad relations with his cousin and a recent sense of gratefulness for his cousin's unexpected defense of him against his own parents. "It's late and I'm tired."

"I wanna talk," Dudley said.

"We already are," Harry pointed out.

Dudley just gave him a slight glare, before gesturing with his chin for Harry to open the door fully. With a slight sigh, Harry complied. Once the fat boy was inside and the door was closed, the two cousins faced one another, both suddenly uncomfortable and uncertain how to start the inevitable conversation.

Just as Harry was about to sigh and make a question, Dudley seemed to have firmed his resolve and asked, "Lightsaber?"

Looking up, Harry couldn't quite stop the slight quirk of his lips in a proud smile. "Heh, guess I've seen too much Star Wars growing up."

"So…it was real?" Dudley asked, eyes widening in realization that the beautiful light blade he'd seen had been what he first and still thought it was. "You actually made a real lightsaber?! How?!"

"Lots of hard work and studying," Harry said, hedging the actual details. "But let's just say that without magic, I never could've done it."

Despite himself, Dudley couldn't help but agree with his wizardly cousin. He knew as well as Harry that lightsabers were as close to impossible to make with science and today's present technology. The fact that a Wizard could make one didn't seem nearly as farfetched, disappointing as it may have been.

"C-Can I…Can I see it?" The hesitance but obvious youthful desire in the fat boy's request caught Harry off guard for a moment before a warm smile crossed his lips.

"Only if you keep it a secret," Harry said, still smiling. "I don't want to get swamped by millions of fanatics who all want one too."

A slight grin pulled at Dudley's face before he nodded in acceptance. Moving over to his bed, Harry pulled out the hidden weapon and handed it carefully to his cousin. Dudley took the weapon with the reverence one might expect when handling a holy artifact. He slid his hands over the hilt, examining as much of it in the faint moonlight as he could, twisting it every which way, staring at the small blue gem that was glowing behind the glass and leather.

Pressing the activation button gently, he flinched back slightly when the blue blade sprung to life from the end of the hilt. Staring up at it with a wide-eyed gaze, Dudley turned and moved the blade cautiously around, marveling at how the beam held its shape and consistency. It was, as he'd always imagined, a truly beautiful piece of art.

"No wonder you were able to kill those things," Dudley couldn't help uttering as he continued to stare into the blade. "Nothing could stand up against something like this!"

"Technically, I only killed one of them," Harry couldn't help pointing out, his smile disappearing at the reminder. There was still a rogue Dementor out there, one likely under Voldemort's control, hence why it attacked them. He needed to send Hedwig with a letter to Dumbledore or the Ministry or someone important about that as soon as possible.

"I wonder if you could stop this Dark Lord that's after you with this," Dudley said, finally looking away from the blade and to its creator.

"That's what I intend to find out," Harry said, shrugging slightly. Dudley could only nod at that, thumbing the button and retracting the blade with hiss.

"I wish I could have one," Dudley said, handing the lightsaber back to Harry. "Wizards and magic are scary and make no sense. But a lightsaber? That is so cool!"

Harry could only grin as he took his weapon back, unlatching the emitter with a casual twist. "To be honest, if I had had the choice, I'd have chosen to have been a Jedi myself. The Wizarding World may be a 'magical' place, but it's far more complex and dangerous than it needs to be." Then a small chuckle escaped Harry as he grinned up at his cousin. "Yeah, you'd have been my 'Han Solo,' and I your 'Luke Skywalker.' Wouldn't have that been something?"

"Yeah," Dudley answered, a grin crossing his face at the silly thought. Then his grin widened as he looked down at Harry. "Especially since Han got the girl at the end!"

As Harry was snorting, a sudden familiar cold and darkness descended around them. Ice began forming upon the window glass and the faint moonlight vanished for the second that night. As Dudley started to recoil and gasp in terror at the return of the horrible sensations, Harry slapped his lightsaber back together and ignited the blade, basking his room and cousin in light once again. Spinning himself around, Harry searched quickly for the source of the freezing darkness.

"H-H-Harry?" Dudley nervously called out, also looking around and trying to find the monster he'd briefly seen earlier. "Wh-Wh-Where is it?"

"I don't know," Harry said, twisting and turning. "I can't see it. But…something's wrong. It's…not as cold as it was earlier."

"It's close by but…" Dudley muttered for a moment, reviewing the facts about the hooded monster that Harry had shared with the Dursleys earlier. Then an ominous realization came to him. "MUM! DAD!"

Spinning around, he yanked the door to the hallway open. Almost immediately, they were hit by a blast of much colder air. But before Dudley could rush blindly out and head for his parents' room, Harry grabbed his shoulder and squeezed past, his lightsaber leading the way. At the end of the hall, he burst into his aunt and uncle's room, another and much colder gust of air washing over him. In the blue light his saber was giving off, Harry and Dudley beheld a terrible sight. A Dementor hovering over the sleeping form of Petunia, its face pressed against hers, sucking deeply.

With a loud roar of unexplainable fury, Harry immediately launched himself forward with a speed he never knew he possessed before. Swinging his lightsaber with all the speed and strength he could muster, he slashed the deadly blade clean through the surprised and recoiling Dementor's midriff as it rose and tried to dodge away. As with the previous one, it let out a horrendous screech as it was began rapidly disintegrating, the icy aura of darkness and depression evaporating with it.

"MUM! DAD!" Dudley cried out, rushing forward to his parents as Harry backed away, switching off his saber while he headed for the light switch. The sight that greeted him once the lights flashed on was heartbreaking, even despite who it had happened to. "WAKE UP! PLEASE, WAKE UP! MUM! DA! PLEASE!"

Dudley was shaking his parents, first Vernon and then Petunia, trying to awaken their unresponsive bodies. As he moved forward, he easily saw the uncomprehending, glazed look in each of their eyes as they just laid there. They did make any movement or even seem aware of their son's presence and frantic persistence at trying to rouse them. Despair quickly rose up in Dudley as he saw the continued unresponsiveness of his parents, tears of fear and anger falling from his eyes as he continued trying to somehow wake them.

Turning to Harry, he cried out, "HELP, PLEASE! I'll do anything! Just, please, HELP THEM!"

"I can't." Never had Harry ever felt so powerless or guilty as he did when he uttered those two words to his frantic cousin. "They're…gone. That Dementor sucked out their souls…like it was trying to do to us earlier."

"But WHY?!" Dudley yelled, reaching over and grabbing ahold of Harry's shirt, trying to shake the answers from him. "Why them? Why go for them?! They didn't do anything!"

"Because that's what a Dementor does," Harry said loudly, trying to unsuccessfully pry Dudley's hands off with his one free hand. "It doesn't need a reason. It eats peoples' souls because that what it does. It doesn't care about who they are or why."

"B-B-But…Mum…Dad…" Dudley's grip loosened as he collapsed limply to his knees, sobbing freely. Unable to find the right words, Harry could only kneel down next to him and pat his shoulder. It was a feeble attempt at best, but he didn't know anything else to do.

The next morning was terrible under the roof of Number Four Privet Drive. Dudley remained up in his parents' bedroom, still mourning over them and occasionally trying to wake them up. Harry had tried to get him to come out and get some breakfast, but the boy was immovable. He barely ate anything that was put in front of him. His eyes red with dried lines down his cheeks from constant crying. With nothing else to do, Harry simply went about the chores that the Dursleys had more or less programmed into him at an early age. It was a weak attempt at keeping his mind off the soulless beings who were upstairs.

Finally, shortly after noon had passed, Dudley descended down the stairs and took a seat at the kitchen table. Harry looked over at his cousin from where he was washing his dishes from his little meal, before shutting off the water and drying his hands. He took a seat across the table from his cousin, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"This Dark Lord…" Dudley said, in a low voice as he kept his gaze focused down on the table between them. "Who is he? And what does he want?"

"His birth name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he took up the name Voldemort when he left Hogwarts fifty years ago," Harry said, equally lowly as his cousin. "He was born into a family that was descended from one of the magic school's founding Wizards: Salazar Slytherin. Slytherin had long ago decided that he didn't want to teach students who weren't of a 'pure magical lineage' and had grown to despise them. He saw anyone who wasn't born into a magical family as being abominations who were little better than trained animals. His ideas spread among the other Wizarding families, especially those of 'pure blood' who wanted more power over others and would anything to get it."

"And this 'Voldemort' leads these purebloods?" Dudley guessed, a small frown forming on his face. "To what? Enslave all those who weren't born into a 'pure' family?"

"More or less," Harry admitted. "I've met him several times. I don't think Voldemort cares so much about blood purity as he does simply wanting to dominate all others. He wants to rule over all others, be they Pureblood or Mudblood, and he's just using the blood purity as an excuse." Taking a breath, Harry slowly continued, "My parents fought against him, long ago. That is how and why they died. He killed them because they were strong and could resist him. But when he tried to kill me for some reason, the Killing Curse backfired and he was destroyed, left little more than spirit without a body. No one knows how he managed to survive, or how I did for that matter. But, during this past June, one of his old servants captured me and used me in a ritual to revive him. It worked, and he's back."

"And now he's going to restart his war," Dudley said. "Try to make everyone his slaves again, or kill those who don't submit to him."

"More than likely, yes," Harry said.

"And that is why you built the lightsaber," Dudley continued. "Because it is something that he's probably never seen or heard of before. He wouldn't know how to fight against it."

"Yes and no," Harry admitted. "I built it before he was reborn, because I had wanted to see if it was even possible to do it. I never had any intention of actually using it."

"No," Dudley said, finally looking up at Harry. "If that was true, you would've never had it with you last night. Those…Dementors…would've killed us, for sure. No, I don't believe it is a coincidence that you just happened to make it by accident. No, you were meant to make it."

That statement really made Harry feel uncomfortable. He couldn't help lowering his gaze from his cousin's piercing stare. "…Maybe." After a moment of awkward silence, Harry lifted his gaze back to his cousin. "So, what will you do now?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Dudley asked, his face solemn and more serious than Harry had ever seen it before. "I'm gonna help you kill that bastard." As Harry was opening his mouth to object, Dudley raised his hand to silence him. "They made this personal, Harry. You're not going to change my mind."

Seeing the look of repressed anger hidden under deep layers of fresh grief, Harry just let out a long, low sigh. "Fine, then. But it'll take time, remember that. And if we're really going to do this, we need to get you up to speed on all things magical… Can you handle that?"

"I'll deal with it," Dudley grunted. "Once everything…here is settled, I'm going to join a military academy and get properly trained."

Nodding, Harry pushed himself out of the seat. "Well then, no time like the present to get started. Let me go get a few things, and we can head over to Diagon Alley." As he was heading for the hallway and the stairs, he suddenly stopped and turned back to his cousin. "What do you want to do with…them?"

A pained expression filled Dudley's face for a long moment. Then, he dropped his gaze to the floor as he sighed. "I'll call the ambulances tomorrow… Maybe they could find some way to help?"

Harry didn't have the heart to remind Dudley of the high unlikelihood of that happening. He just nodded. Standing up, Dudley nodded and followed his cousin to the front door, waiting for him to return and for them to get started on their journey.

Though neither of them would realize it until much later, that moment was the ending of their childhoods and their first steps into a much larger world.

(Author's Note) So, tell me, what did all of you think for this opening of my latest idea of a Star Wars x Harry Potter story? I will say this with definitive assurance: Star Wars in this story is NOT an entirely separate universe, nor is the Earth in an undiscovered section of space within the Star Wars-verse galaxy. Star Wars is merely a piece of fiction that Harry was deeply inspired by. However, that is not to say that there will not be other continuing similarities and other SW-inspired stuff that'll take place within the realms of this story. In fact, a significant piece of the SW-franchise will be playing a large role in the course of this storyline and I'll do my best to explain the how's and why's behind it when that piece comes to light.

Now then, that aside, could any of you please tell me what you liked in this chapter? What you didn't? What caught you by surprise? Do you think my brief explanation of how his lightsaber was made and how it works is good enough or do you want a more detailed explanation? Do you like the concept of Dudley joining Harry, in a personal quest to avenge his parents?

And, yes, that reference with Luke and Han is a hint to the type of role Dudley will be playing. Granted, he has a long way to go to reach that point. And, yes, Harry quite obviously took Runes instead of Divination because he saw it as a much more useful class than trying to learn foresight.

As far as pairings go, they're still largely up in the air. However, I will say here and now that I have no intention of making this a Harry/Hermione or Harry/Ginny or Harry/Daphne (too popular!). So, if anyone have got an suggestions (with some halfway plausible reasoning behind them), I'd love to hear your opinions.

For those of you who are wondering, I'm kinda basing Harry's lightsaber off of designs I've seen of Galen Marek's first lightsaber, combined with Rohm Kota's, as well as Kanan's little disassembly trick.