A/N: Hey guys, so this story was actually based off a prompt that we received and couldn't resist writing. It took a little while to get along to, but we've finally finished the first chapter! Yay! Anyways, the authors note at the bottom was done by a different person and the writing style may change slightly throughout the story. It isn't that big of a change and you probably won't even notice it, but if you do that's what it is. And now, after all my babbling, I hope that you enjoy the first chapter of Green Eyed Boy, and please follow, favorite, and review! More reviews means faster updates!


On June 31st, 1980 at exactly twelve AM a baby boy with striking green eyes was born to two wonderful, loving parents.

But, this baby was born into a world of destruction and war. A war between the dark and the light side of the force. A war between the Order and the Death Eaters. A war between good and evil.

And no war is without causalities, this was no exception.

Among those casualties were James and Lily potter, the parents of the green eyed boy, Harry James Potter.

Harry, now an orphan, was sent to live his aunt, uncle and a pig of a cousin on a distant planet called Jakku where it was hot 364 days of the year.

Ten years later it is now Harry's 11th birthday and just like every other day in the year he is left to do the chores and scavenge for valuable parts from ship wrecks while the rest of his 'family' explores the planet and did whatever they pleased.


HARRY POV


5:32AM, I rolled over groggily yet quiet and climbed off of my quilt set up on the floor in the basement where all of the old ship parts that I scavenged were stored before they were sold.

I groaned when my head suddenly hit a turbocharged two-stroke diesel engine that was hanging precariously from the ceiling.

I reached a hand up gently running it over my forehead before pulling it away, relieved to not find any blood.

After making sure that the engine wasn't damaged (of course, it wasn't it was metal for crying out loud!) I skipped up the stairs two at a time and headed into our small kitchen.

The off-white kitchen was made up of a small pantry, three counters, and a gas stove covered in rust. It wasn't much for show but it could feed the whole Dursley family which I'm pretty sure no other kitchen could. I, on the other hand, was probably the skinniest person on Jakku. My 'family' didn't feed me what so ever, just leftover scraps of their meals. That only happened every so often.

"Boy! Get your ass over here!" My uncle Vernon yelled I could tell I was in for beating, what for? I have no idea. I walked in, my head down. Trying to not draw attention at the same time. I knew that walking in proudly would only result in more pain.

I quickly wiped at the tears before I reached my uncle so that he wouldn't see them. Crying would just make it worse.

Vernon lifted up my chin up forcefully. I knew he wanted to see the pain in my eyes when he whipped, stabbed, punched or whatever he would do to me. He jabbed his finger into my cheek. I could feel the tears trying to escape, I squeezed my eyes shut. I did not want him to see how much pain he caused me.

"Are you crying, boy?!" He sneered at me, dropping my chin. I stayed quiet.

'N-no sir," I stuttered, my voice rising a few octaves.

"You little-" Vernon snarled but was cut off by his son, Dudley. He didn't want his son to see the violence. Dudley was his sweet little boy. I quickly darted away back to my room.

It's not cowardly to run when you know your life may depend on it. There have been some nights where I end up crawling to my 'room' AKA the storage basement.

Curling up in the dark corner I hid my head between my legs in futile attempt to block out everything.

Upstairs I could hear Uncle Vernon congratulating Dudley on beating up a young Twi'lek girl that he had seen. That was literally the stupidest reason for praise that I had ever heard. And trust me, that's saying something.

A few minutes later Dudley complained about being hungry and although he was perfectly capable of making food for himself, all you have to do is dump a packet of powder in a bowl of water, my Uncle screamed at the top of his lungs for me to come make their breakfast.

I emerged slowly from my position on the ground, my joints clicking into place as I stood, before quickly climbing up the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Yes, U-uncle?" I asked in what I hoped was an innocent voice.

"Make breakfast, and don't take so long," My uncle replied as I looked around the small dark room. My aunt had joined the rest of my family in the dining room and was playing some stupid game with Dudley that I would never, in a thousand years, be allowed to even touch.

"Y-yes sir," I stuttered, clumsily opening the cupboard to get the packets needed to make the first meal of the day.

"And don't you dare spill that water, boy!" My uncle yelled at me nearly causing me to drop a glass bowl.

"Yes sir," I repeated myself as I poured three packets of the strange greenish-brown powder into the water.

The effect was immediate. The water disappeared as bread and a green vegetable formed in its place.

Soon, all of the water was gone from the three bowls and I glanced backwards to make sure no one was watching before placing one of the slimy veggies into my mouth.

I know what you might think. 'There's no way that a lone vegetable can taste good or be filling,' but when you haven't eaten a substantial meal in four days, a slimy vegetable taste like the best thing ever.

"Daddy! Daddy! Harry just ate some of the food!" My cousin suddenly called out grinning as he struggled to stand up off the floor.

"Did you?!" Uncle Vernon turned his beady eyes on me, an accusing glare in his eyes.

"N-no sir," I stammered quietly, hoping, that by some miracle I would be spared. But of course, I had no such luck.

"He did! I saw it!" Dudley shouted trying and failing, to jump up and down. Of course, he would believe his son since I was just his measly nephew.

"That food was for Dudley, you selfish little son of a bitch," I flinched at the words, wishing I could escape from all this pain. I shrunk away from Uncle Vernon as he raised his hand.


Skye POV


I was walking through the market, making grossed out faces at the restaurant's window food. I live at the Jedi temple, with my younger sister. I'm a Jedi while my ten-year-old sister is a padawan or a Jedi in training. I know, that's really young to be training to be a Jedi, but our parents were Jedi before they were killed, and so we've been training to be part of the order since we could walk.

I was currently off on an assignment on a distant planet called Jakku where supposedly there was some boy who was strong in the force. Personally, I didn't believe this because Jakku isn't known for having many inhabitants who even know what the force is, much less someone

who can wield it. Besides, the last Jedi here was you know who so, I was on high alert.

I might've looked like a regular 17-year-old on Jakku. I was wearing a short leather jacket with a tank top under it. The tank to had been ripped at the belly and was smeared with grease. I had on regular cotton pants but those had also been ripped. I looked like the average Jakku teenager on Jakku. But my lightsaber was very well hidden.(In my bra! So smart of me!)

My senses went up, somebody was yelling loudly. And the force was definitely stirring up here. I rounded the corner as casually as possible. I let out a quick sigh of relief as I got past the grueling civilians.

I heard a loud slap and a crash. My senses were failing me, I was dizzy and unfocused. Someone was a Jedi. Somebody in this house is a Jedi!

I put my hand on the wall steadily, closing my eyes to gain back my vision. I looked down the side of the house, I need a window. Where is a window? I looked up. Why did it have to be up there? I lightly ran my hands along the grooves on the wall.

"This looks climbable," I mumbled to myself. I positioned my feet on the wall grasping for a foothold. My toes finally found a ledge and I started climbing.

It took me a good five minutes, the wall had seemed to have been painted in slime which was just stupid. As I finally got onto the window shelf, I saw a little boy with black messy hair and round glasses. A short, fat middle-aged guy was in front of him. I couldn't get a much better view than that.

"I can't believe we took you in! Your so selfish and so stuck up that you don't notice everything I do for you!" The old dude yelled and slapped the little boy across the cheek. The boy stumbled backward, his glasses had fallen off somewhere in the room. His left cheek was entirely red but it looked scared, a lightening bolt scar. So did his arms except those looked like lashes. Whiplashes.

Oh my god, what had this boy been through. The young boy came crawling over to the window, reaching out for his glasses.

I doubled over, losing my footing in the shelf. I immediately grabbed the wall and took in deep breaths. I had not been expecting this.

The boy had grabbed his glasses and rose up, his head down. I could see the smallest tear fall onto the ground and then I felt the anger. Anger fell off him in waves and it powered me. Powered me entirely. I even slightly gasped, I couldn't even emit this much emotion over people.

The only problem was is that he didn't know what he was doing. I saw Fatty (that's his name now) scowl, he reached for something on the counter. Before I even knew what was happening Fatty whipped the poor boy. I did my best with the force. It was quick and fast but not smart.

I felt a slight tug in my gut, the sign that I was working with the force and I gestured with my chin over to the wall. The boy was thrown against the wall and slumped over. He shook his head, his hair even more bedraggled. He ran away, out of my view.

I cringed, whoops. Fatty looked at the whip amazed.

"Did I do that?" He asked himself. I held back a snort. You wish. Fatty walked away, tucking the whip in his pants. Ew, I thought, making a face.

I pressed my back to the wall. I knew I had been acting foolish, going completely against my orders and being so klutzy. Just to scout out the area, and find the home of the boy. But he didn't live in a home, he lived a prison.

I took a deep breath, going over what I had seen tonight. The boy lived in a small town in Jakku with I think distant family, a distant abusive family. I couldn't quite catch his name.

I pressed my fingers lightly against my temple and took a deep breath in through my nose.

Harry James Potter

That's his name, Harry James Potter. He has a familiar name, I can't put my finger on it. I slipped again, pulling myself back on the window shelf. He's abused by his adoptive family. That's it.

I'm going to save him now and get him out of this horrid house.


A/N 2: Thank you guys so much for actually reading this. Two people wrote this and somebody had given us a prompt. So please give Joe63129 credit for some the story. I'm pretty sure we would have never come up with this. Also, if you are looking for any prompts then go check out his page 'cause there are some pretty great ideas there. Anyway thanks for reading and review for an another chapter!