Eye Of The Storm: A HP/KOTOR XOver

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars KOTOR; all copyright goes to JK Rowling (14 years on and its still BRILLIANT) and LucasArts (Who knows how many years) I do own any OC Spells or powers described;

Plot: Answer to YugiohFreak54's HP/KOTOR Challenge: The loss of Sirius, just when he thought he had a family, is something that hits Harry hard; so hard, in fact that, on his 14th birthday, he receives a gift from someone simply calling themselves Revan. Through Revan's gift, Harry acquires a control over the power of the Force and decides that the time for the 'nice guy' Harry Potter needs to come to an end.

Dedication: I would like to dedicate this story to YugiohFreak54, MariusDarkwolf, StormyFireDragon and all the others who read and enjoy every piece of work I print; without your kind words, advice and friendship, I would have never continued on the site;

Normal Speech


{Mind Link}

"Force Manipulation"

"Statement: HK-47 Speaking"


Harry/Hermione; Draco/Ginny; Revan/Bastila; Voldemort/Bellatrix

Episode 1: The Gifts Of Grief

Sirius was dead…

Harry had failed him…

He had failed to avenge the betrayal of his parents…

He had failed to stop the Dementors when it mattered most…

And the strange thing was, no matter which way Harry looked at it, there was only one name on the list that he could blame: Albus Dumbledore!

It was true: if Dumbledore had asked Remus to train Harry from the get-go, then he could have perfected his Patronus and saved Sirius; if Dumbledore had warned Harry about Severus Snape's misinformed sense of justice and jealousy towards the Marauders, then Sirius would still be alive…hell, if Snape had even bothered to remember to warn Remus about the Wolfsbane Potion, then Sirius would be safe and alive.

But no: the old man hadn't helped Harry; he hadn't tried to do all in his greatness to save the man's life; he hadn't protected the school or those within her from a whole horde of Dementors and then, when Harry needed friendly company and the welcome embrace of others to keep him happy and to help him get over the loss of family, all that Dumbledore had said was, "Harry needs to return to Privet Drive: it's where he is safest."

"Old fool," growled Harry, lying on his back, the soft ticking of the clock next to his bed being enough for him to keep on his train of thought, now counting down the seconds to midnight, to the moment that he turned fourteen, the moment that he had planned for so long.

To run away from Privet Drive and head straight for the Alleys, but, because he didn't know whether or not Dumbledore's twisted mind would be watching him, Harry had made plans to travel not to Diagon Alley, but to Knockturn Alley and to stay there until September First.

The beeping of his bedside clock was the first sign for Harry that the coast was clear; sliding out of bed, he stood up and walked over to Hedwig's cage, where his faithful owl seemed to sense her master's presence; opening her large bronze eyes, Harry gently ran his hand along her feathered breast as he whispered, "Three days girl, then come and find me."

Hedwig hooted in reply, but, before Harry could move another step, he was stopped by the arrival of another owl; a large black-feathered owl with crimson-tipped feathers that ran along its wings and a pair of sharp talons that looked like they could shred a man in two.

Taking the letter that this owl was carrying, Harry opened it and was surprised to find that the letter had come from Gringotts Bank: this was a first for him as the only post he ever received was from his friends; with feverish motions, Harry ripped open the letter and read the information within, not really one for having time for this:

Dear Mr Potter,

May we from Gringotts be the first to wish you many happy returns on the anniversary of your birth;

Now that is done, I must insist on a meeting with your good self as soon as humanly possible; the fact that this letter has been issued at midnight is trouble enough, but I fear that, if I were to wait until morning, it would be too late.

That is why this letter is doubled up as a portkey; to activate the key, simply say Fortuna and you will be brought to my direct office where I will answer everything for you;

Awaiting your arrival Mr Potter;

Ragnok Silverbane

Grand High Master of Gringotts

Harry stared at the letter with a mix of shock and bewilderment: the master of Gringotts wanted to meet with him?

At midnight?

On the day of his birthday?

Was this some kind of a joke?

As he thought the last point, Harry then realised something: you didn't get to be master of a whole nation by lying or making jokes, particularly not when it seemed of vital importance that you met with a client like Harry; no, whatever Ragnok wanted was both official and genuine and, even though he didn't want anyone knowing he was going to do a runner, Harry found himself knowing it would be common courtesy to meet with him.

Holding the letter, Harry then had an epiphany; reaching to his desk, he withdrew his wand and held it in his hand, a smile on his face as he thought about the other reason he was making a run for it: Voldemort. This wand was the brother of Voldemort's and, clearly, it was important that he keep a hold of it, almost as important that he didn't leave Privet Drive or ever acknowledge the truth that he was never going to see Sirius again.

"Sorry," Whispered Harry, his emerald eyes now like two flames in his face, "But I'm through playing by the rules: he wants me…"

He took the other end of his wand in his left hand before, with a mighty crack, Harry broke the holly and phoenix-feather wand across his own knee, splinters and shards of wood and core material flying everywhere.

"…He can come and get me," Harry finished, tossing the broken pieces to the floor before he cried out, "Fortuna!"


Ragnok Silverbane was a well-respected goblin and a being who knew the price paid for grief and loss: he knew that it would be almost foolish to contact the grieving future Lord Potter, but he would also know that, as the leader of his people, Ragnok bore the responsibility of sometimes making things worse than they first appeared.

In the case of Lord Potter, things were going to get worse and, as the wards around his office were triggered, signalling Lord Potter's arrival, Ragnok compared the emotions that he could feel from the young teen as being in the proverbial eye of the storm; the young teen before him was showing common courtesy simply because he was required to as a matter of honour. He even bowed to Ragnok before moving to take a seat opposite the Master of Gringotts, his voice firm, but polite as he asked, "You wished to see me Lord Ragnok?"

"Indeed I did Lord Potter," Ragnok remarked, before he calmed himself as he added, "If I may, my Lord, would you prefer to use my name rather than all this Lord business? I summoned you here as an act of parley, not for any trouble or misdemeanour, so, if you will allow me the honour of using your name, then you may use mine."

"Very well Ragnok," Harry replied firmly, his emerald green eyes showing Ragnok just how much pain the young wizard was feeling; a part of the goblin master actually wondered if the boy had shed any tears for the loss he had suffered.

"Thank you Harry," Ragnok remarked, his eyes on Harry as he continued, "As you may, or may not, be aware Harry, as the last member of your family, you are now legally entitled to claim your full family's Lordship and be officially emancipated as an adult in the wizarding world."

"I was not aware of such a thing," Harry told him, "But I am thankful for you pointing this out: are you saying that you summoned me to emancipate me?"

"More than that Harry," Ragnok answered, "I have…a friend of your family who would like to meet you in person as what he has to say shall affect your emancipation and change your very future."

"Very well," Harry nodded, before his eyes darkened as he asked, "But why did you wish this meeting at midnight? Why would the morning be too late?"

"I think it best that my friend explain things," Ragnok explained, before he reached under his desk and pulled out what appeared to be a silver pyramid with mysterious runes decorated across its base. Pushing the pyramid towards Harry, Ragnok then retrieved a silver dagger, which he also gave to Harry as he added, "Now Harry, if you could offer a drop of your blood, all can be explained."

"Very well," Harry nodded, his voice showing the anger he was still feeling, "But if this is a trick Ragnok, I will leave and take my fortunes with me."

Ragnok bowed his head in acknowledgement as Harry pricked his right index finger with the dagger, a small drop of blood splashing onto the tip of the pyramid, causing a dim, but powerful-looking red light to suddenly ignite at the tip of the pyramid, before the light rose from the tip, like a beacon from a lighthouse and, as Harry watched, the light seemed to spread out, forming a red triangle that displayed a strange image within its blood-coloured energy; the occupant of the light was dressed in a suit of mysterious black armour that seemed to cover most of his body; a long black cloak seemed to billow out from behind the armour in a style similar to Severus Snape and, as Harry looked, he then saw a cowl hiding a masked face that was decorated with a mysterious red symbol.

"Ah Ragnok," the figure spoke up, his voice deep and strangely distorted, "I see you have found the one I seek: tell me child, what is your name?"

"Harry James Potter," replied the young wizard, "Who the hell are you?"

"Hm," the figure remarked, his voice suggesting amusement as he added, "I sense power; yes, you are the chosen one; as to who the hell I am, you may call me Revan and I, Harry Potter, have searched the known dimensions looking for you."

"Me?" asked Harry, slightly startled by this mysterious masked man, "What could make me so important?"

"You have power," Revan explained, "And, unless I am very much mistaken, you are the descendant of the one known as Godric Gryffindor, are you not?"

"I…I'm not sure," Harry answered, his enraged look now replaced by a look of confusion, "I mean, his sword came to me when I needed it, but people suggest that I could be the Heir of Salazar Slytherin because I speak Parseltongue."

"It's him," Revan remarked, his masked face now filling the light as he addressed Harry, "This spiritual communication is all that is needed for this meeting: you see Harry, you are more powerful than you give yourself credit for and, if you let me help you, I can grant you the power to make the very ground tremble beneath your feet."

"And why would I want that?" asked Harry.

"You seek to avenge the death of a fallen one, do you not?" asked Revan.

Harry's eyes widened with rage, his nostrils flared and, unbeknownst to him, his eyes actually changed colour: what once was emerald green was now a pair of cold, yellow eyes that could only be described as one word: evil!

"So you do," Revan continued, "And from what I see in you Harry, it is clear to me that you would welcome the means to use this power, am I right?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, his rage spiking as he spoke to Revan, "But what does some masked fool like you have to do with that? There's nothing I can do against those who I wish revenge upon."

"What if I told you that there was?"

Revan's question had Harry slightly startled; taking as many deep breaths as he could manage, Harry leaned forwards, his eyes still the same cold, yellow glow as he asked, "How?"

"Like I told you," Revan answered, "You have power and strengths that you have not yet discovered; it's there inside you Harry, buried deep beneath the weak child that your enemies would see you portrayed as. Given that you are the Heir of Godric and Salazar, it now means that you can awaken that power, but, if you do, there is no going back and you will change yourself in every way possible."

"What is this power?" asked Harry, before a cold smile crossed his face as he asked, "And how do I awaken it?"

"This power," answered Revan, "Is the power of the Force and, to awaken it, you need to listen to what I have to tell you, for the process is long and, if done wrong, extremely painful."

Pushing his chair back, Harry locked eyes with the strange man in the red light, his eyes still set on yellow and evil as he looked from Revan to Ragnok, his face still curled into that sneering grin as he asked, "Is this what you meant by too late Ragnok?"

"It is my lord," Ragnok answered, "I seek to help you awaken the power and am honoured to serve you as and when you require my assistance."

"I see," Harry smiled, "And by morning, you were afraid that those who would harm me would have their hands on me, yes?"

"Yes," Revan answered, "So, my young student; my apprentice, what say you?"

Still grinning, though now he seemed to be glowing at the same time, Harry swept his arm over his head and, in one swift motion, kneeled before the illuminated figure, his voice now tinged with an evil tone as he replied, "Tell me what I must do, my Master."


Hermione Granger was having the worst night's sleep of her young life; every time she closed her eyes, she couldn't help but replay that image in her mind:

She and Harry by the lake thanks to the Time Turner, Harry watching and waiting for the miracle that was his supposed Dad to come and save the past him and Sirius from the horde of Dementors; then, he would whisper, "Not my dad…me!"

Hermione tried to stop him, but, rather than go to the lake, Harry went for his wand only to find that it wasn't there: somehow, someway, his wand had been taken from him, despite everything they had done and now, with past Harry's screams in their ears, she and Harry watched as someone else, another hidden figure sent the Dementors away, but it was too little, too late.

Sirius was dead, killed by the soul-sucking influence of the Dementors; then, in her dream, Harry would turn and he would ask her, "Is this how you repay me for saving your life?"

Then, in a fashion similar to Harry, Hermione saw a flash of green and woke with sweat trailing down her; however, when she awoke after midnight, it surprised Hermione that she wasn't alone. There was someone else standing in her room, their face hidden by the shadows of the room; at first, Hermione considered going for her wand, but, as she did, a female voice warned her, "Don't do that if you wish to help him."

"What?" whispered Hermione, watching as the figure stepped forwards, revealing a woman dressed in a set of unusual black robes; her face was deathly pale and her eyes were a dark, but still cold shade of yellow that bore into Hermione's own heart as she stared at the young witch. At her side was a mysterious cylindrical object that hung from her belt like some kind of good luck charm.

The woman had dark brown hair that seemed to be tinged with a streak of white hair that crossed her fringe and, as she looked at Hermione, she spoke again, "I won't harm you Miss Granger, but if you wish to help the one who haunts your dreams, you would be wise to listen to what I have to tell you."

'The one who haunts my dreams?' asked Hermione, 'Can she mean Harry? But why would Harry need my help after I failed him? Oh no…unless he chose to…but he wouldn't, would he?'

As she thought about the raven-haired hero of Gryffindor, Hermione felt her face heat up and her heart racing with a sense of excitement and sorrow coupled with emotions that she had only recently begun to understand; on the other hand, she was Hermione Granger and what would someone like Harry want with a buck-toothed know-it-all like her?

What would he see in her?

"Do you want my help?" asked the woman, "Like he will need yours."

"Who are you?" asked Hermione, before she lowered her eyes and asked, "And how can I help?"

The woman seemed to smile, before she sat by Hermione and took her hands, her yellowed eyes staring deep into the young Gryffindor as she explained, "My name is Bastila Shan and I am what you would call a ghost of my former self and, if you want to help, then you must do what someone of your House would never do."

"Which is what?" asked Hermione, slightly mesmerised by Bastila's gaze.

"Embrace the darkness within," replied Bastila, her eyes now looking into the very core of Hermione's heart as she added, "If not for anything else, then you will do it…for him."

'Yes,' thought Hermione, a strange feeling of acceptance running through her, 'For Harry.'

"What must I do?" asked Hermione, watching as Bastila seemed to remain there, holding onto Hermione's hands as she spoke up.

"Just relax," Bastila informed her, "And do exactly as I tell you to do."


Harry, following the instructions of his new master, followed Ragnok towards one of the many roller-coaster like tracks that led down into Gringotts' underbelly; this one, however, didn't spin them around or leave a really queasy feeling inside him; instead, this ride just plummeted straight down and took both Harry and Ragnok deep into the bowels of the earth, the only indication that they were still inside Gringotts being the fact that there were the odd doors to what must have been very important vaults.

Down and down they journeyed, until the cart evened out and began spiralling downwards, reaching the furthest level of the depths as Ragnok turned to Harry, his gaze slightly lower than it had been when Harry had first met him. Clearly this was meant as a sign of respect as Ragnok explained, "This is quite possibly one of the oldest vaults in the bank, my Lord and, given that you are his heir, it must fall to you to open it."

"How do I do that?" asked Harry, clambering out of the cart onto what appeared to be a very gravelly ground; Ragnok climbed out behind him and indicated the tunnel in front of them. As Harry followed the tunnel, the mysterious gravel beneath their feet began to get more uneven until, as if waiting for the inevitable, Harry tripped over something large and fell to the ground, his eyes looking not at a gravelly ground, but at a real human skull, the bone carved into as if it had been…

'Crunched,' thought Harry, standing up and, turning to Ragnok, Harry asked, "What's down here?"

"The Protector," Ragnok answered, gesturing ahead, "One whom only the Heir of Slytherin can tame."

'A snake,' thought Harry, before he shook his head as a much more logical thought came to mind, 'No: a dragon, but what kind of dragon would need this much feed?'

As if to answer his question, a loud, powerful shriek then echoed through the tunnel, Harry holding onto his ears while Ragnok seemed unaffected; it was like the sound was drilling into his own skull and, as he listened to the sound, Harry found his mind being ravaged by a powerful wave of mental attacks; after a short while, however, Harry just felt his mind being lightened from the attack and, as he looked around, he couldn't help but ask, "What the fuck was that?"

{That,} answered a cold voice in his mind, {Was the Protector, my young apprentice: I should have warded your mind from its cry, but do not worry, for it cannot harm you now.}

{Thank you Master,} Harry replied, grateful for what Revan had done to him back in the office; shortly after Harry had kneeled, the red image of Revan had vanished and the light had seemingly spread from the tip and locked onto the centre of his skull, like he was being hit by a sniper; after that, Revan had spoken from within Harry's mind and told him that he would be here for the time that Harry's mind, body and magic would adjust to the powers of the Force.

Moving on ahead, Harry finally emerged from the tunnel, but, when he looked up, he gave a very audible gasp and actually felt every emotion from that morning coalesce into one that he could describe in just four letters: F-E-A-R!

Looming over Harry's head was indeed a dragon, but this dragon was the size of two Knight Buses parked on top of one another, its long body seemingly able to stretch all across Privet Drive and still have room for its tail; it was covered in midnight-blue scales with a long streak of black along its belly, its eyes were a deep, almost hungry shade of red and, as it stared at Harry, the dragon opened its jaws, revealing rows of sharp, meat-hungry teeth that looked like they could tear Harry to shreds.

{Remember,} Revan whispered, {Only the Heir of Slytherin can tame him.}

{Yes Master,} Harry replied, before he closed his eyes and tried to visualise everything he had done the last time he had spoken Parseltongue; then again, he didn't have a Godzilla-sized dragon to worry about.

Opening his eyes, Harry raised his head and addressed the beast, his voice more like deep-throated growls and the moans of a dragon than the hissing of a snake. /Dragon, creature of legend and defender of Revan: I, the Heir of Slytherin, have been recognised as a child of your Master and order you to let me pass!/

'Please?' added Harry in thought, watching as the large dragon seemed to be startled by this speaker; lowering its head, the dragon puffed at Harry before it extended a long, thin tongue and seemed to taste the air, before, at long last, it stepped aside and bowed its head to Harry.

/Master,/ hissed the beast, /I beg forgiveness for my shame: the caverns of my first master are yours to explore as you wish./

With a nod of thanks, Harry stepped past the beast, watching as its massive bulk seemed to reveal an entrance to a cavern, the dragon's flesh evidently doing more than protecting its nest as Harry walked past the spiked tail of the dragon and stepped into the cavern, his eyes exploring the area around them as Ragnok followed behind.

"Okay," Harry whispered, looking back to the beast that was now cowering near the entrance, its vicious bull of an attitude replaced with a scared puppy, "What the hell was that?"

{A Krayt Dragon, my apprentice,} answered Revan, Harry looking from the beast to the caverns, {It comes from my realm and has been here since the days of Salazar and Godric: as long as you speak the sacred language, the beast cannot and will not harm you.}

{I understand Master,} Harry replied, watching as the cavern lit up around them, revealing a full array of treasures, mannequins that were dressed in different suits of armour and mysterious robes, piles of wizarding gold and treasure that would have any tomb raider hungry for more; the weirdest sight, however, was the mechanical thing standing in the centre of the room, its body rusted by time, but still clearly working and, as Harry approached it, something in him clicked as a pair of red eyes in the robot's head seemed to flicker and flash as if it was blinking.

Then, as Harry stared, the robot addressed him, "Statement: Master! Such pleasures to see you alive after all these years, providing my receptors are not off focus; how may I serve you?"

"What the…" Harry gasped, but once again, Revan came to his rescue.

{Harry, allow me to introduce your battle droid, personal servant and all-round most loyal of your followers, HK-47: now, command him to give you my armour.}

"As you wish," Harry replied, before he looked at HK-47 and, in as much of a commanding voice as he could muster, ordered, "HK-47, I order you to present me with my armour!"

"Obedient Answer: As you wish Master; it is such a true privilege to see the Sire of Lord Revan alive and well. Request: if my master would shut off his optical senses, I will provide him with his armour at once."

{He means close your eyes,} Revan informed him, {Don't mind him Harry; he's a little…different, but he is extremely loyal.}

Harry heaved a sigh, before he did as his master requested; however, as he did, HK-47 returned with a strange suit of armour similar to the one worn by Revan and, as Harry stood there, he felt his mind being pulled not away from the caverns, but into the armour.

{Master,} he cried, {What is happening?}

{I am going to show you the truth,} Revan answered, {About who and what you are and how you will help bring the Dark Side back to this world: relax, my young apprentice, it will not hurt.}

Deciding it would be better to obey, Harry calmed his mind as he felt HK placing the armour over his body, the mind and consciousness of Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith showing Harry the full story.


Harry felt himself drifting through a variety of colours and could hear something distant. It sounded like a hum and clash of swords but…as he tried to find them…they faded away. The colours solidified themselves until Harry saw that he was standing in a…

"A tomb! But what's going on here!" Harry asked aloud.

"Most curious…"A voice said very near from Harry.

Harry spun around and came face to face with the armor and masked man.

"Master Revan!" Harry breathed before he bowed low.

Revan walked past Harry…actually, he walked through him! This made Harry gasp in shock and stood up. He quickly faced the man he had only met in Hologram form as he read a tablet of sorts.

"According to this stone tablet…it foretells of my war with the Republic and…most interesting." Revan mumbled as he continued to pour over the tablet.

Harry looked through the man's chest and his eyes widened as was able to read the text so very easily.

The tome spoke of one thing and one thing only; the downfall of Darth Revan!

Harry read on eager for knowledge; The tome had spoken about the betrayal of his ancestor's current apprentice and of how the Sith would be placed under the rule of the new Lord Malak while Revan became a puppet of the Jedi Masters and then became infatuated with the one Jedi whose blood Revan wanted to stain his lightsabre: Bastila, the female officer of the Republic whose Battle Meditation was rumored to be the turning point in this war.

From reading that tablet, Harry watched as Revan had insisted on learning more and, from the instructions and descriptions in other such tablets located across the galaxy – the majority of them on Korriban, Nar Shadaa and Malachor – he had learned that, one day, the power that Jedi and Sith called the Force would be warped and diluted into a weaker form of its former glory and called magic.

Harry saw that this didn't please Revan and watched as the man vowed to persevere the majesty of his empire. The boy could only watch as his master walked away from the tablets and leave the Graveyard of dead memories.


Harry soon found himself on a different place but saw that it too had Revan who was began spreading blood around his feet, his crimson-edged lightsabre following the blood trail as if to brand it into the deck of the Vanquisher, Revan's flagship.

As he finished carving the last of the symbols described in the tablets, Revan placed his blade at his side and waited, channelling the Force into the seal at his feet. If this worked, then his legacy would be safe and, in time, his true heir and apprentice to the Dark Side would rise as the new Dark Lord.

The sound of a laser-cannon blast cutting into the Vanquisher's side had Revan looking up, his golden-coloured eyes burning with pride beneath his helmet.

'Right on cue,' thought the Sith Lord, watching as Malak's flagship turned to that of his Master's and began barraging it with laser blasts and damaging the rear side.

At the same moment, as if fate had been playing a game of chase, the doors to Revan's chamber were buckled by a powerful wave of Force Energy, revealing a trio of warriors bearing lightsabres of their own designs, a female figure in the centre of the trio, her yellow sabre glowing in the dimly lit room as Revan turned to face them.

"You cannot win Revan," the woman exclaimed, Revan's Force Energy maxing out as he tried to resist the waves of magic flowing through the room.

His ritual was working and now, with her, Bastila Shan, the Republic's finest Jedi warrior, here with him, Revan knew he could begin his conquest and it would start with her.

Harry watched in awe as the dark lord swung his own sabre around, Revan beckoned to Bastila, inviting her to attack, which she complied, striking at his armour and slowly overpowering the Dark Lord. Forced to his knees, Revan lifted his sabre once more and deflected one of Bastila's strikes, cutting into her arm with a hidden blade as he rose again, Bastila's blood now adding to the seal beneath their feet. Bastila was too focused on defeating Revan to notice the deep glow that was forming beneath her and the Dark Lord.

'Yes,' thought Revan, 'I did it; so sorry Bastila, but soon, be it light or dark, you will be mine; on this day I vow that I will make you my queen and my true apprentice…now, all I need is…'

As if on cue, the Vanquisher's bulk was ripped away by a massive cannon blast, knocking Revan to the floor, his body damaged, the Force power within him spent from casting the ritual. As he gave in to the powers of unconsciousness, Revan's last thought echoed across the void of space.

'Soon…the Dark Side shall rise once more…and My dark warrior will see it rise.' Revan thought as the darkness over took him.

Harry gasped in pain as he was sent hurtling out of the memory.


Harry awoke with the world in almost pitch blackness around him, his vision slightly out of focus as he seemed to be breathing rather heavily, his breath and his very heartbeat echoing all around him.

"What…what…was…that?" he asked, not expecting an answer from HK.

"Explanation: no doubt Master that you have discovered the last known memory of my original Master, Darth Revan; the memory was sealed within his armour so that he could teach his new descendant about their destiny. Addendum: that new descendant is you Master and it is your destiny to bring about the second coming of the mighty Sith Empire."

{Is that true Master?} asked Harry, his mind feeling so much stronger as he linked with Revan.

{It is Harry,} Revan answered, {But there is another piece to the puzzle that you must learn; for, if you are to be successful, then you must reunite with the one that destiny has chosen to succeed the woman from the vision.}

{Bastila,} Harry gasped, {But who…}

As if to answer his question, the helmet of the armour – as Harry then remembered he was wearing it, realising HK must have placed the full suit on him while he was in the dream world – seemed to activate a screen that showed an image that seemed to be taken directly from Harry's memories: a young girl with her arms around him in the Great Hall, before she turned to a red-headed boy and hesitated, before shaking his hand.

"Hermione," whispered Harry, "I need to find her."

{Yes you do,} Revan answered, {But first, my young apprentice, we must awaken the full power of the Force from within you and, in order to do that, we must leave the world you know behind: where were you heading?}

{Knockturn Alley,} Harry replied, {I can find a hotel there and make sure I won't be disturbed: this armour will help matters.}

{Then go to it,} commanded Revan, {Find a hotel, rest up and contact me once you are once again healthy, my young apprentice: HK will be with you, shrouded in a force field that will leave him invisible to all except you and, at your command, he will do whatever is necessary to obey your words: now, Harry Potter, my Sith Acolyte, go.}

{As you command, my Master,} Harry replied, before he felt the light-headed presence of Darth Revan leave his mind, leaving the new Sith wizard – or Sith Sorcerer, you could say – with his new servant and the Master of the Goblins.

Harry had work to do…

And there is Chapter 1 of my more Darker Harry twist to the challenge by YugiohFreak54, though I should point out that the scene used in the vision was designed by him, so consider that a thanks for setting this challenge; all copyright is his;

Now though, with a destiny set in motion and new powers on the horizon, can Harry awaken the sleeping dragon within and find his true strength?

Also, can Hermione discover her role in Harry's destiny or will she remain lost to nightmares about the death of a friend? (and please don't kill me for that: I needed a reason for him to embrace the Dark Side and that came up.)

Keep Reading to Find Out…

Next Chapter: Harry discovers some hidden truths about his lineage and it seems that Sirius is helping even from the next life; also, Revan has a quest for his young apprentice and Harry takes a new name before setting out to find Hermione and help bring her into his world of darkness;

Please Read and Review…