Harry Potter the Jedi of Earth
What happens when a certain green-eyes eleven year old wizard catches the interest of a Jedi recluse from a planet light-years away? He learns the ways of the Force, duh!
The Jedi is not Yoda
he is an Original Character.
Eventual Harry/Hermione, Dumbledore and Weasley bashing, GrayHarry, PowerfulHarry!
Slight crossovers with various movies and awesome anime, including Aliens and Cowboy Bebop.
And if you don't like it, well, KISS MY GRITS!
Oh yes, Disclaimer; Harry Potter and Star Wars belong to the Immortal J. K. Rowling and George Lucas
It was not the way of the jedi, the sins of the dark side are something that cannot easily be washed away or atoned for, the man, dressed like a savage, in the skins of animals, his eyes closed in deep meditation still felt the fatal draw, the lure of power.
What he had done was necessary but regrettable, in order to survive that terrible ordeal he had to become a creature of the dark, to think like them, with no remorse or morality, the very thing he once swore to undo. On top of the plateau the wind was still as death, his lightsaber was where he had left it for the past sixty years on the ground before him, covered in dust not having been touched for a long time. His body was thin, starved of food, being kept alive only by meditating on the living power of the Force. Scars from claw marks and acid burns criss-crossed his body. He looked to the sky as a star passed on overhead.
"That was no ordinary star, but the tear of a warrior, who fights his battle somewhere at the edge of the galaxy, a pitiful soul who could not find his way to the lofty realm where the Force awaits us all." maybe it is time after all, to pass on his knowledge to a worthy successor, this warrior is strong with the heart of a true jedi more so then himself.
The siege of the xenomorph serpents had left him a broken shadow of the man he once was, culled by the dark side of the force for so long it has dominated his destiny he will never be free. The whispers of those vile creatures, were the very echoes of the darkest nature of the force. To simply exist with no law or moral to restrain them, all that the dark-side aspires to in the black form the those demons. In order to survive the dark he had to become the dark, to think and act like them. No mercy, no regret, everything is permitted.
During his self-imposed exile he learned many things about the Force that only someone who had braved and survived what he had would know a new philosophy as old as life itself; the Force lies beyond the realms of good and evil, it simply exists, independent, free from the confines of morality fear and frailty, he knew that the jedi and the sith even the nightsisters could not hope to fully grasp the true power of the Force for their philosophies are all confined and set in rigid formation, while his own truth is very simple; it is not what they look like, not what they act like, but what they are like. To see things and understand them as they are is the true, sole power of the Force, neither good nor evil.
Through the Force he studied the boy who fights his battle, seeing past who he is, a scarred youth, famous, a Gryffindor whatever that meant, and a player on some strange sport team, to what he truly is; brave, hardworking, loyal, cunning when he wants to be, cleaver, angry, much anger resides in his young heart, as well as confusion, this boy is very interesting.
Harry pulled the stone out from his pocket.
"that's it Harry there is no good and evil there is only power and those to weak to seek it."
Do not listen to him, Harry, power lies beyond good and evil as does truth, a voice resonated in his head, it is not what he acts like, it is what he is like, see him for all he has done. Feel his intentions.
Harry looked back at Voldemort's face, the face of the man who murdered his parents like he did so many others, his eyes were cold, pitiless, and Harry knew in his heart of hearts that this man will kill him the moment the stone is in his possession, he is no man, he is a beast.
"You liar!" he shouted, his anger at being tempted with the possibility of seeing his parents again when the creature had no desire to do so.
"Kill him!" Voldemort shouted.
Harry, duck. The voice commanded.
Harry did so, just as Quirrel soared over him and crashed into the stairs.
"You fool," Voldemort hissed, "use your wand!"
Quirrel spun around his wand outstretched pointing at Harry.
I am sorry for this. The voice said just before Harry's body started to move on it's own, he lightly side-stepped a green curse, and redirected a burst of fire into the ceiling without his wand, he felt something other than magic in the works a primal life-force was flowing through his body like water. A strange sensation flowed from the dark wizard that permeated Harry's chest, hatred and anger even fear, he felt the next spell coming before the wizard had even opened his mouth, he caught the green light in his hand and held it there, then his mouth moved of it's own accord.
"You are not strong enough, Riddle, yes, I know your name, I know what evil lurks in your heart, you fear death, weakness and the frailty of mortality," the voice said to a shocked Quirrel and Voldemort, "there is no death, only the Force." Harry's hand released the green light and it shot back at the man who keeled over dead his body disintegrating. A black smoke rose from the ashes and roared at Harry, racing at him Harry tried to regain control of his body but found instead that again it moved at the voice's will. His hands reached out and arcs of lightning shot out into the cloud illuminating the dark lord's fragmented soul. It writhed in pain and fled up the stairs, then the boy-who-lived, fell on the floor unconscious.
When he opened his eyes he did not recognize anything, the sky was a mix of black and navy blue with no clouds in sight, the ground was a grayish-red color, the very air was still, so much so it was eerie, he stood up shakily, only to find that he was on a plateau miles high, he never really minded high places but he couldn't help but step back out of survival reflex.
"Do not worry, Harry." a voice spoke, the voice. "you cannot die here from a fall."
He turned around, the man who had spoke was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the plateau, he was dressed in a manner that reminded Harry of the pictures of Native Americans he once gleaned from Aunt Petunia's National Geographic. He was far skinnier than Harry, his body nothing more then skin and bones looked impossible to sustain his life, but his gray eyes were filled with a vitality that nearly frightened the boy. His hair was gray, thick and long, but he had no facial hair on his tanned skin.
"Excuse me, but who are you?" Harry asked nervously just like he had done with Hagrid on his birthday.
The old man looked at Harry knowingly, "Not wise to ask who I am, rather than what I am."
Harry saw an object laying on the ground before the man, it looked like some sort of handle, but it looked like some form of technology as well. It was so covered in dust that Harry could only guess that it hasn't been touched in years.
"You have good eyes, that was once my weapon, much like your wand."
At the mention of wands Harry quickly searched his robes for it.
"You are wasting your time, I have summoned your astral body here, not your personal belongings."
"My astral body?" he had never heard of this in Hogwarts but then again he did sleep through most of Professor Binn's classes.
"Something akin to your ghosts, but very much alive." the old man explained, remembering that the boy was new to the whole experience of magic and even more so to the limitless powers of the Force, he felt a strange surge of nostalgia coarse through him.
Harry felt his astral body it felt solid, even the texture of his clothing, he could feel, touch, taste, see, and hear.
"Do you think those are clothes you are wearing now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"So where am I exactly?" Harry asked looking up at the sky hoping to spot a constellation he might recognize.
"You are here," the man said simply, "where else could you be?"
The words sounded like a joke to Harry but he felt that they held a great truth in them. "Back at Hogwarts."
The man smiled at the answer and nodded, "In a sense, yes, you are also at Hogwarts, at least your body is."
"Are you a wizard?" Harry asked the man.
"After a fashion, yes. But I am... was, a jedi, a guardian of peace and justice."
A guardian of peace and justice? It reminded Harry of the tales of Camelot, the knights of the round table, but then he remembered the little he knows about his headmaster, "Like Dumbledore?"
The man's face returned to it's natural state of impassiveness, "I am nothing like that sith." he spat out the word like a Snape-flavored bean. "He is not worth what a Hutt could sneeze."
Harry was taken aback, wasn't Dumbledore the only one Voldemort ever feared, this man had no right to insult him like that, "Don't insult him, he is a great man."
"Harry, he is a manipulator, a liar, and a thief." he stated categorically, "there are things, secrets he had kept hidden from you, things that you needed to know, like did you know he was aware of the abuse you suffered at the hands of your relatives? Or that they receive a monthly stipend to do whatever they wanted to you as long as they didn't kill you, to break you so he could rebuild you as a weapon?"
Harry's poor brain tried to absorb the horrific news but he fought it with all his might, the man's words had a ring of truth to them, they made such profound sense that he had trouble denying it.
"It can't be," Harry said, "it not true."
The old ex-jedi sighed, the innocence of youth is very fragile, and a terrible thing to break, but for the boy's sake he had to open his eyes to the truth.
"Harry, the truth is not what you hear, read or touch, the truth is what the Force tells you, it will never lie." with that the world grew dark, for a moment Harry was scared that he couldn't see his own hand in-front of his face. Then, a mist shimmered out of nowhere, solidifying into shapes and people, Harry did not recognize the place but he did recognize one of the people, Professor Dumbledore with his long white beard and half-moon spectacles.
"Amelia, I am sorry but I cannot in good conscience remove Harry from his family's home, he is better off there."
The woman, Amelia, glared up at Dumbledore, "Oh, that's not the report I received from the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey," she held up a sheet of paper and read aloud the list of injuries that she had diagnosed, "Malnutrition, improperly healed fractures, calluses on his hands on knees, scares on his back, evidence of pneumonia, Dumbledore this is abuse, you cannot send him back there, I will not allow that!"
"Amelia, you are failing to see the big picture here," Dumbledore said in his most grandfatherly tone, "the blood-wards set by his mother are the only thing that keeps Voldemort's followers from taking vengeance on the boy, without the blood-wards Harry will have no sanctuary from them."
Amelia was not buying it for a second, she stood up behind her desk, her eyes burning with frustration, "If it's sanctuary he must have then the House of the Goddess would offer it to him, the Wiccan traditions would protect him, You-know-who never was able to breach their walls, many refugees where save there."
"That is true but I cannot let things go astray when everything has already been set in motion," with a deft movement he waved his wand at the woman, a dazed look swept across her face as if her mind decided to take a vacation, "Harry must remain where he is for the greater good, no matter what his relatives do to him, even if they torture him." Dumbledore took the medical report from the desk and disapparated.
The fog was lifted and harry was back with the old jedi, he felt like the world was swept out from under his feet, everything about his life felt out of place now, all this time he was caught between a rock and a hard place; stay at the Dursleys and be abused or leave or be hunted by Voldemort. And HE knew, the headmaster Dumbledore knew what his life was like, but he did nothing to help him in fact he is fighting to keep him there.
He fell to his knees tears rolling his cheeks, "Why?" he asked with a choked sob, 'why is this happening to me what did I do to deserve this?'
"You have done nothing, Harry." the old man said, as if he had read his mind, "Dumbledore has never had to answer to anyone for his actions, he is a zealot, he believes that his way is the right coarse of action, and that makes him dangerous."
Harry looked back up at the old man, "Why are you telling me all of this? What is in it for you?" he was suspicious, and had every right to be, this person whomever he might be like his treacherous headmaster.
"I ask for nothing, only that you become my apprentice."
"My apprentice, to learn the ways of the Force, to receive my knowledge of power beyond the realms of the magic of your people."
Harry glared at the man, "How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't, but I'm not asking for blind faith or obedience," the man smiled, "in fact, I welcome you to question my teachings and methods, how else can you gain wisdom if you have not the courage to ask?"
Harry, weighing his options considered everything, he was going to Hogwarts and learning magic already, he has friends there, a life, but the headmaster would have him under his thumb everyday and Harry could not bear the thought of being under his reign any longer. But the strange jedi was offering him a power that was obviously unlike anything he had heard of in school, and freedom.
Sorry, but I got bored, besides I got more important things to do.
-LOL- (insert insane laughter)
Just f(bleep)ing with ya' stay tuned for the next entry.