A/N Just for reference, this is an idea that I dreamed up some time ago. Had it sitting in my mind, so I finally decided to type it up and see how it goes. Fair warning, this story will not be updated for quite a while, as I'd like to get one of my other stories completed before attempting another. Plus, the intro feels too similar to how my main project started, and I fear I wouldn't do it justice if I wrote the two in parallel to each other. Of course, this is barring any sort of change in circumstances.

(Note: Edited 12/08/11)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and if I did, I would be clobbered with a Bludger. On that note, I do not own Mass Effect. Shepard would run me over with the Mako for even insinuating that.

Chapter 1 - Motes of Light

Harry Potter enjoyed his life.

Voldemort was dead, and had been dead for many years. It had been a turning point in Harry's life. Free from the thought of him swooping in like a guillotine hanging over his neck, he finished Hogwarts and found a girl. However, he could not settle down, not for a long time. His reclusiveness when he was young and carefree gave way to wanderlust, with him exploring the world, and see all that he had never seen. Of course, he had taken her with him all this time. They were together the first time he saw the see. The first time he explored his own country, seeing everything that most others had taken for granted. And the first time he left his home to explore the world. Together, they saw more than most men could claim to have seen.

That is not to say their adventures were full of peace, for many a time some hapless fool would try to stake their own claim as the new Dark Lord. None were even worthy of the title, as they easily fell before the quick spellwork of his wand. At first, his wand did a lot of the talking, before his partner's joined him; a pair of conductors that weaved a symphony of magic.

One day, however, Harry Potter began to feel something else. A sickness, a yearning, for his home. As soon as the girl, now a woman, found out, she dragged him back home without so much as a by your leave. There, they found that home had changed since they had been gone. Neither for the better, nor for the worse. The war had claimed many lives. Most, however, were those elderly with the traditional seats of power. The people, seeing this, were confused. They could not relay on the statesmen whom they had known for generations. Albus Dumbledore, Tiberious Ogden, and even the dowagers Augusta Longbottom and Amelia Bones were gone. They had to think for themselves, and choose of who remained to lead.

This brought out the vultures in force, hankering for the electable positions in the legislature. Many a good people were able to get into power through sheer charisma. However, the same applied to many a bad people. The end result was a gridlocked Wizengamot and a fence straddling Minister. Neither reforms could be passed, nor more restrictive laws be enacted. At the very least, Harry took grim satisfaction at the fact the country had not slid any further than it had.

Of course, he would not be able to stand to the side. For three more years, he found himself working to improve the state of the country. He championed many of his allies and his friends, propelling them into the positions that were needed. However, when he was asked to run for the highest position, he declined. He was more than happy to let someone else tack over. The people were very reluctant to do so, recognizing him as the only major figure around. He reminded him that he would always be there, to do what is right.

Eventually, Harry Potter got what he wanted. After twelve years, and as he prepared to enter the fourth decade of his life, he was allowed to finally rest. His fortune made sure that he would never have to work, although he was sure that one day, he would eventually take up an occupation just to keep his hands busy. Until then, he had time to settle down, enjoy his time with his wife, and finally start that family he had wanted for so long.

As said, Harry Potter enjoyed his life.

That night, he found his wife on the porch in front of the house, looking at the stars. He quietly walked beside her, taking her hand in his as he looked up at the sky. Squeezing it gently, he asked, "What is it that you see?"

She simply says to him, "Just thinking if there is anything else out there. Anyone else. It's hard to believe how we're so small, sometimes."

A soft smile crossed his face. "It is, sometimes. We've seen how big this world is, and yet, there could be so much more to see." He shrugged, before speaking softly. "Perhaps one day, we'll be able to go up there, and see the stars ourselves."

His wife sighs, before leaning into him. "That would be lovely. Would that mean that you'd be Skywalker?"

Harry had to chuckle to himself. "Nah, I'd rather be Han. That way, I get the girl too." He ended his statement by squeezing her shoulders, before wrapping his arms around her.

"Of course you would dear." She snuggled into his arms, before looking up at him. "No matter what, I'll follow you wherever you go." It was something that she had told him many times, both in the war and over the past twelve years.

"And no matter what, I'll never leave you behind." It was also something that he had promised her, just as many times. After they stood there for a few more minutes, Harry heard a yawn. Laughing softly to himself, he teased her, "Alright sleepyhead. Sounds like it is time for you to be going to bed."

She snorted, and playfully punched his chest. "Meanie." Before she could say anymore, she yawned again. Glaring at the mirth on his face, she pouted. "Well, if you're going to be like that, you'll have to carry me to bed."

Shrugging to himself before picking her up, he grinned at her squeal. "Oh, hush, it's nothing you didn't ask for." They both laughed as he carried her up to their room, before laying her down in the bed. Without further adieu, she covered herself with the blankets. After a few more seconds, she had begun snoring softly. Silently laughing, as he knew he wouldn't let her live this down, Harry sat down in the chair.

It was amazing to him how sweet and innocent his wife looked when she was sleeping restfully. That was on top of how beautiful she looked to him any time of the day. He had partaken of his watching activities a few times over their trip. Of course, the first time she had caught him asleep in the chair, she had sussed out exactly why he was watching. That was also the time that she sussed out his feelings for her instead. So Harry felt that the embarrassment was worth it. Now, of course, it had become one of their little in jokes.

As he sat in the chair, he slowly felt his eyes becoming droopy. His hand fell over his robe's pocket, where twin sticks of wood rested in safety. In the one corner of his mind that was still thinking, he knew that she would rib him over falling sleep in the chair. But he knew that it would be worth. With a smile on his face, he slid into sleep, awaiting the coming of the next day.

Not a few seconds later, Harry Potter became as of light, before turning into motes of blue dust that scattered into the wind.


A man found himself staring into the image of the burning sun as he listened to a status report from one of his chief operatives. The only indication that he had heard anything she said was the tightening of the crow's feet about his eyes, and the manner in which he snuffed his cigarette out. Looking down at the woman, he finally held a hand up, stopping her in the middle of the speech. Leaning towards the hologram of the woman, he spoke to her. "I'm not quite sure i follow, Operative. If I heard you correctly, I am to understand that the Lazarus Project is behind schedule, and extremely so?

The woman gave the barest flicker of surprise at his words. "Unfortunately, that is correct, sir. The bio-regeneration has proven much more different in his neural cells than anticipated. As you directed us to return the subject to his state before his death, we have avoided any cybernetic implants in locations where it might affect his behavior."

The man bit on the end of his cigarette, inwardly wishing that he hadn't snuffed it out. He wouldn't show it, but he could use a drag of the nicotine in it at the moment. "Very well. Considering that we are bringing back a man from the dead, I should say I shouldn't be surprised. Your estimates were off, though, Operative Lawson. It concerns me slightly."

This got the woman's attention, as she let her head hang down slightly before replying. "My apologies sir. I had not foreseen this complication. Should I speed up the project by force? With the larger use of cybernetics, we can repair the badly damaged areas more quickly. If Shepard turns out to be unstable, we can always…"

The man cut her off sharply. "No, Operative Lawson. We have had this discussion before. Even if I did agree so, Humanity needs a hero. No matter how long of a leash that we place on him, it is still a leash. And the rest of humanity is still too plebeian to understand what we are doing for them." After he received her reluctant assent in reply, the man lit his cigarette again and took a drag from it. "But the important note is that humanity needs a hero. And if Shepard isn't ready, we must have one in his stead, at least for until he is." He leaned forward, looking her image straight in the eye. "Instruct the Faustus segment of the Lazarus Project to proceed with their operations."

The image's eyes widened. "Sir, you can't believe that some group of occult fanatics can deliver us…" This time, she shut up at the glare she received.

"Their promise may be ludicrous, but not terribly much more than yours. It took many years of study to achieve this much, as there are no wizards, as far as we know." He paused to take a exhale, spewing out smoke. "Besides, we do not have much of a choice. We both know our enemy is on the move."

The conflict still raged in her eyes, before she finally nodded. "Very well. I still think this is a bad idea. This is a true unknown we'll be releasing on the galaxy. And all we've got on top of that is a few antique books which shouldn't exist." With that, she disconnected from the link.

After staring for a few seconds at where the woman was just previously standing, he turned the chair back around and stared at the sun once again. Almost without thought, he punched up a dossier that he himself had compiled from the antique books his people had recovered. It was a fascinating idea, after all. Human wizards, with powers unmatched even by biotics. And their last great hero could help hold the line, until humanity's current hero was revived to take his place.


A bright white light filled Harry Potter's vision as he awoke. When he finally regained complete consciousness, he simply sighed and pushed himself up, thinking it was just another prank. He idly reached for a wand in his robe pocket, only to realize his robes were gone. No longer so amused, he finally took a good look around at his location. Sterile walls greeted him, with not a single sign of where he might be in sight. Looking down, he had noticed his clothing had been replace with an odd set of pants and shirt that bore a sigil on its chest. Reminded of a Muggle athletics company for some odd reason, he shook his head to clear his mind.

Harry spun himself off of the bed and slid onto his feet. Old instincts kicking in, he quietly moved across the floor, looking for any signs of his possessions. Seeing what appeared to be a locker at the far end, he snuck over and attempted to open it. After a few seconds of deciphering the rather odd looking lock, he found what appeared to be the open button. Unfortunately, it didn't work. He growled softly in frustration, trying a few more times before calling it quits.

Deciding to attempt to try wandless magic, at which he was hardly proficient at, he stood back before holding his hands at the device. Before he could even attempt to do anything, however, a hiss emanated from his right, which startled him. Harry spun around, feeling his tension rise as a door opened up.

As it did, a woman stepped inside, glancing at him and then at the locker. Ignoring the scene, she spoke to Harry. "I see that you are finally awake Mr. Potter. Before I explain what is going, would you kindly follow me?" As she spoked, the woman began walking over to the bed where Harry had woken up.

This whole time, Harry had been watching her warily, waiting for her to make a hostile move. Even though he realized that she was not going to make one, he still did not follow. "Who are you and why did you bring me here?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly amused about something. I am afraid you didn't understand, Mr. Potter. I will explain the situation to you after you submit to an examination. We need to ensure that you are healthy after your trip here.

Still, he didn't move. Harry believed it was rather obvious that this was some ploy by a Dark Lord. One that is not too shabby either, if he could kidnap me through my own wards. But I don't believe that they think that I'll fall for the pretty woman trick. "I still don't know what I am doing here, or who you are. Considering that I was just kidnapped, I don't feel too inclined to be cooperative. So please, would you inform me?

Her eyes narrowed, staring down the green eyed man before her. After nearly a full minute, the woman nodded, relenting. "Very well. We are currently aboard Lazarus Research Station. I am the Operative in charge of the Lazarus cell." Seeing his still impassive stare, she continued. "I suppose that since you need to know anyway… You are here because we require your assistance. Temporarily, but it is still necessary."

Confusion marred Harry's face. Lazarus Station? Am I in the Arctic or somewhere like that? He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Where exactly is this Lazarus Station? And exactly what type of help do you need?"

A frown marred the woman's face. "That is hardly information you need to know. At least for the former. As for the type of help, we need you to take the place of Commander Shepard until we can safely resurrect him."

At this, Harry's own eyes narrowed. "Resurrect him? is this Shepard some sort of Dark Lord that you are working for?" He took a step towards the woman. "If you know who I am, then you know exactly what I think of Dark Lords."

The Operative sighed, the only sign that her patience was slipping. "Shepard is hardly one of your Dark Lords. Furthermore, we are using technological means to do so, so your magics will hardly matter here." Her mouth spat out the word magic like it was an invective. "Finally, you are slightly behind on the times Mr. Potter. If you want to know, this matter is bigger than Earth."

Harry, took the first two comments in stride. The last one, however, hit him like a Bludger in the gut. "What do you mean by that?"

Smirking ever so slightly, the woman leaned towards him, her ice cold voice warming slightly with dark mirth. "It is 2185 C.E., Mr. Potter. The problem we need you to solve is simple. Until Shepard is resurrected, we need you to hold the line. You've only got humanity and the rest of the galaxy resting on your shoulders. Is that enough information for you?"