Disclaimers: Don't own Harry Potter or Star Wars
May 2, 1998 (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry)
Harry Potter could honestly say that he much preferred the first time he had been struck with the killing curse to the anticipation he felt at that moment standing with knees locked, surrounded by Death Eaters in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. He had been an ignorant one year old the first time he was struck with that ominous green light, not knowing what horror it brought. This time was so much worse. The ghostly images of his loved ones had told him that it didn't hurt to die, but he sincerely doubted that there was not even a slight moment.
His breathing was quick, as he could feel his lungs and his heart pounding. Knowing that your whole life had been a giant set up for an inevitable early death was the only thing going through his head at the moment. He knew he should feel proud, knew he should be brave for he would give his friends a chance to finally end the Dark Lord's hellish reign, but in truth he was scared. He wanted to turn and run, run away to someplace he would never be found. Thoughts or running quickly left though, as he watched that undead creature raise his wand. He saw the words manifest on its lips, and then saw the light at the tip of the wand. He closed his quickly, hoping with everything he had that wherever he went would be better then where he found himself.
The spell impacted his chest directly in the center over his heart. He had expected pain and he received exactly that. It felt like electricity was coursing through his body, traveling with high velocity through each one of his nerve endings. Immediately he knew that something was not right, not right at all. The killing curse did its job instantly and it had been much more than an instant, but still the current of magic was storming throughout him. He had kept his eyes closed, but suddenly opened them and watched the look of utter bewilderment on the face of his foe. If he was going to die, then he was at least glad that his last vision would be Voldemort unhappy about something not going according to plan. The Dark Lord still had his wand raised, and was taking a step forward, no doubt to deal another blow, but before he had the chance to act, Harry felt the energy coursing through his body suddenly sucked back into a centralized point in his chest. As the last of the magical energy joined together there was an explosion of color and Harry felt as if his body was sucked through a hole. Then there was nothing.
Year 18 B.B.Y. Tatooine
There was pain. A lot of pain. He had figured that the actual process of dying would hurt, but that afterwards it would stop. Harry realized that he was no longer on his feet, but was lying on his back. The ground was soft and pliable, nothing like the floor of the Forbidden Forest. He cracked open his eyes, one at a time, but was quick to bring a hand to cover them as a bright light invaded his senses. It was slow going, but eventually his eyes adjusted, and he began to sit up. On his first look around he swiftly realized that there was no chance in hell that he was in Scotland any longer, nor anywhere close to it.
He was in a giant desert. There was nothing but yellow sand, dunes and red rocks as far as he was capable of seeing with his less than impressive eyesight. He was utterly alone and completely confused. The killing curse had most definitely struck him, which meant that there was no way he should still be breathing. He contemplated for a second the possibility that this was some sort of manifestation of the afterlife, but the throbbing pain in his chest made him doubt that. He looked down at his sternum and could see his shirt had been scorched through and had partially burned away. The state of his shirt made him fear for the condition of the skin underneath, but a thorough examination revealed that it was only slightly irritated, although a dark bruise was starting to form. He was sighed in relief when he realized that the scar on his forehead was no longer a source of irritation. In fact, he could feel no trace of the dark presence that Voldemort's horcrux had unleashed on him since he had entered Hogwarts.
Seeing that he was not mortally wounded alleviated that fear, but confusion was quickly gripping his mind. How had he ended up in the middle of a desert? How had a wizard such as Lord Voldemort managed to completely screw up the killing curse a second time? And why in the bloody hell were there two suns in the sky overhead? That last one really got to him. The first two he could quickly dismiss as some extraordinary magical anomalies that only someone with the combination of Hermione and Dumbledore's intelligence would be able to explain. It likely had something to do with the combination of his mother's sacrifice, blood magic, basilisk venom, phoenix tears, a trip through time with a time turner, and a horcrux in his head. He could readily believe that a mixture of those somehow equaled him not being dead.
The two suns in the sky was the real head scratcher. He had taken astronomy at Hogwarts, and a little bit in muggle school as well, and he could say with strong conviction that the Earth only went around one sun. And now he was officially feeling freaked out. He contemplated sitting where he was until he could come up with a possible explanation, but then he realized that he was literally burning up. The weather was absolutely scorching and he could feel his face getting red.
There was a lone comfort for Harry though. Lying next to him was his stolen wand. It wasn't the one he wished he had, but it was still something. He struggled to his feet and managed to cast a quick cooling charm on his clothing that was only somewhat effective. Tucking the wand into pocket, he was left with the impossible decision of where to go. There was nothing in either direction that would give him a hint as to the existence of civilization. Realizing that there was no choice but to take a gamble, he began walking straight ahead into the nothingness. It was initially a struggle trying to walk through the sand, especially as it began to fill his trainers, but he managed to continue on, into what he didn't know-most likely death if had to take a guess. He had traded a quick death with a killing curse for a drawn out death by heat stroke.
He walked on for hours with nothing in sight, and by that point his body was demanding water. He thought about turning back the way he came and trying another direction, but realized that he would probably drop by the time he reached his starting point. Recent events were catching up with and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep going. He climbed up numerous dunes, and his calves were rebelling against him. Making his way to the top of the tallest dune he had encountered yet, he almost yelled in joy when he saw something other than sand in the distance. It was barely discernable because its color was so close to that of its surroundings, but it definitely looked like a structure of some kind. Harry was so eager at this point to find someone who could explain things to him, that he moved too quickly and lost his footing. He attempted to brace himself by throwing his arms in front of him, but it was to no effect as he ended up doing forward rolls all the way to the bottom of the dune.
It was on his final roll that he heard the unmistakable sound of snapping wood coming from his pocket. The day had just become considerably worse and that was saying something. He stood up, wiping the bothersome sand from his body before pulling out the remains of his only salvation. The wand sparked several times before it went completely dead. This time Harry did scream out his frustration as he realized that his ability to do any magic had been cut off and that he was defenseless. He tossed the wand to the side, knowing that it served little purpose in keeping it. He had one hope now and that was the little building he had seen from the top of the dune.
The walk was further then it had looked, but after a few minutes he was standing in front of the small stone structure. He walked around the structure until he found the only thing that could be the door. There was a problem though as there didn't seem to be a handle to open the door, only what looked like an electronic keypad on the side with a variety of buttons that could do anything. Harry was about to take a stab at pressing some of them, when he felt some unnatural force lift his body from the ground and send him flying away from the door and the building. He landed face down in the sand, and as he lay there he heard something that sounded like an electronic hiss behind him. As he turned around on his back, he was met by the most vivid blue light he had ever seen in his life, which was hovering just inches from his chest.
The light was compacted into the shape of a long cylinder, which was connected to some sort of metal hilt. Harry looked up and saw that a tall figure dressed in a dark brown robe was holding the source of the light in his right hand. The figure was hooded, but Harry was able to make out a brown-bearded face and a set of narrow eyes staring down at him.
"Who are you?" The figure asked in a smooth, neutral tone. "You were making too much noise to be a thief, and coming from the opposite direction of the nearest town. Which means you are either unbelievably lost or are here for a more nefarious purpose. Which is it?"
Harry's concentration was still focused on the bright light coming from the glowing sword, which he was sure would cause catastrophic damage if it touched him. However, his focus shifted quickly to the figure's questions. "My name is Harry Potter, and I am most definitely lost. I was just looking for water and shelter."
The figure frowned as he took in Harry's words. "Do you know who I am? Are you an agent of the Empire?"
Harry put his hand up and shook his head. "I have no idea who you are, I have know idea where I am, and I don't have any clue what the Empire is!"
Harry watched as the figure continued to regard him. It was somewhat disconcerting, as the man seemed to be staring into his soul. However, suddenly the robed figure pulled his weapon away and retracted the lighted blade. "I sense you speak the truth, but I also sense something else within you. There is an energy flowing within you that I have never felt before in another being. What are you?"
"A wizard," Harry replied, feeling that continued honesty would be the best course for the moment.
"Wizard?" The figure repeated. "I have met others on my travels who have claimed to be such. I've been accused of sorcery on more than one occasion myself. Where is it exactly you are from?"
"I would normally say I'm from England," Harry noted running his hand through his messy hair, "but for some reason I don't think that would be helpful in this situation. Let's just say I'm from Earth."
The figure took a step back and lowered his hood, revealing a head of brownish hair that was just short of being scraggly. He brought his left hand, the one without the strange light sword, up to his chin and rubbed it along his beard in seemingly deep thought. "Earth? And this is a planet?" Harry nodded. "I'm afraid it's one I've never heard of, although I'm humble enough to admit that I'm not all knowing in the make up of the galaxy."
"Could you tell me where I am now by any chance?"
"You don't know where you are?" The figure asked looking extremely skeptical. "You are on the outer rim planet of Tatooine, in its Dune Sea. How exactly did you manage to end up here without any knowledge of it?"
"I wish I could explain it to you, but I don't understand it myself," Harry responded. "I was in a battle in the place where I come from. I was in a fight with another wizard, a dark wizard who had killed my parents. I confronted him with the intention of letting him kill me, but something happened. He hit me with a spell that should have ended my life, but I think the magic of the spell combined with my own magic to bring me here. There is magic that can take you instantly from one place to another, but to another world is something I can't comprehend."
"You say you were in a fight, is that what you were where you come from? A warrior?"
Harry couldn't help the laugh that bubbled to the surface at that question. "I'm no warrior. I'm just a student. Some stupid prophecy that was made encouraged the dark wizard to kill my parents and try to kill me as baby. Magic protected me that first time, but the same wizard has been trying to kill me my entire life. What's wrong?" Harry asked noticing the angry look on the figure's face.
"It's nothing," the figure said, shaking off his expression. "I've had my own encounters with prophecy, and can only say it left me anything but impressed. Best to ignore them in my opinion."
"Yes, well, you can ignore it yourself, but when others believe in it there's not much you can do."
The figure nodded, "True enough." He put his weapon away into the folds of his robes and stuck a hand out to Harry who was still lying on the ground. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I was once a Jedi Master on the High Council on Coruscant." Harry grabbed onto the man's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up.
"I'm afraid I don't know what any of that means," Harry stated.
Obi-Wan patted him softly on the shoulder. "Come inside and I will explain. If there is one benefit that exile brings, it is plenty of empty time."