Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Jean (It's French!)

Chapter 1: Becoming Fate's Plaything

In the Wizarding World, there are a great deal of magical creatures. From Goblins to Inferi to Trolls to Pixies to Veela, non-human beings out-number their human contemporaries. While a few of these species have been able to integrate themselves with humans, most of them prefer to not involve themselves in their bigotry. Even the species that do decide to live amongst them aren't entirely unanimous; there are often sects of races that prefer isolation, where they can still hold some semblance of power.

Even as alone as some groups are, however, fear can override common sense.

"This is complete bullshit! Have I done anything to make you worry about me like this?" The irate young man shouted. His silver hair was flaying about from how much his head was shaking, and his yellow eyes practically glowed with anger. His fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles were turning even whiter than his normally pale skin allowed.

The five elders in front of him merely narrowed their eyes, their only sign of their annoyance. "Foolish boy. You have no chance to live zhrough zhe next month."

The smallest female elder spoke up. "No male Veela has zurvived zheir change in over four hundred yearz! What chance do you zhink you have, especially conzidering your… unique condition?" The other four women matched her sneer. If looks could kill, he would've been buried twenty times over.

The bandages on his right hand were inconvenient, for sure, but they wouldn't get in the way too badly. He hoped. Even if he did lose control and die, there shouldn't be any problems. Every female could go through their Change without raising any eyebrows. But if a male were to be born, it was suddenly a matter of national security!

Worse still is the fact that he couldn't do anything about his situation. Even eighty years past the last male Veelas' death, the paranoia just wouldn't seem to end.

His entire life he had been neglected: his parents had fled the village as soon as they saw that they birthed a doomed child, he had no friends (who would want to be associated with the abomination?), and his only job in the village was to be the hunter. Apparently, that was the only place he was tolerated. He didn't even have the French accent that the rest of the Veela had; yet another thing that wedged between him and his 'tribe'.

At least he hadn't been completely neglected with his magical… education. Granted, all he was given were the thirdhand books that had started falling apart, but he got the gist the few subjects that were covered: Charms, Curses, Wandless magic (because they wouldn't waste the time to get the freak a wand), and Transfigurations. He was pretty sure that the Council just wanted to get rid of any proof of their primal magic, and were planning to send them away with their 'failure'.

The young man snorted. "Ah, this argument again. Any excuse to throw away something unwanted, right?"

The elders' eyes were slits at this point, and he could feel the heat rising in the small room. Cursing himself, he prepared to bear with more of the Twisted Sisters' shrieking.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW DANGEROUZ YOU ARE! ZHERE IZ ZOMEZHING WRONG WIZ YOU! IF YOU ZTAY, YOU VILL DESTROY UZ ALL!"

The head of the Council slowly calmed herself, and a determined light entered her eyes. She was the one that even he had to respect, if for no other reason than because she was by far the most powerful woman in the village. He knew things were going to get worse, very quickly.

"It zeems zhat ze boy zhink he can pull of the impozzible, zisters. Let's zee little Jean survive ze Portal right now."

All his rage left him in an instant, and absolute terror filled his heart. There was no way that they were going to do THAT to him! Only the worst of their kind deserved the pure hell the Portal held inside. The only sounds that came from there were screams of anguish. It was the one thing that Jean feared, and everyone knew that.

After all, throwing up every time he heard the tortured shrieks was a pretty clear sign that he was scared shitless.

And they were going to toss him in there like some kind of serial offender. Well, not if he had anything to say about it. He'd go down fighting, if things were going to be like that.

Jean launched a strong repulsion charm and bolted from the room as fast he could. As soon as he left the tent, he made a mad dash to the forest. He nearly made it, until someone shouted "Incarcerous", where rope quickly tied up his legs. He fell on his face quickly, but not as fast as his stomach dropped. He started flailing wildly, even as he was magically lifted and escorted to his worst nightmare.

As they approached the Portal, Jean saw the rest of the tribe (all female, of course) emerge from their shelters. He saw their eyes fill with contempt, like this was something they saw coming a mile away. 'Lookie here! The failure can't even die with dignity.'

Resigning himself to his fate, Jean stopped struggling. Everyone was expecting him to have a complete meltdown. 'No,' he thought. 'I won't give these… cretins… the satisfaction of seeing me become a whimpering mess.' He decided that he would say what's been on his mind for years.

He started with the elder levitating him. "Hey, you think you could make these ropes tighter? Don't worry; my safe word is cinnamon."

To the other hags. He let a smirk etch itself onto his face. "And you all must be having so much fun behind closed doors. I mean, what else would five old and wrinkled women be doing in the same room day after day?"

His smirk flipped upside down when he strained his neck back to see the others that had grouped up behind the elders. They were trying to hide their eagerness, but he could see the poorly hidden anticipation glazing across their faces. "Enough staring, ladies. You all had your chance with me. All any of you had to do was show me a shred of kindness, and I'd have been putty in your hands." He chuckled as much as the ropes allowed. "Then again, who would want to be tainted from my hands?"

His words were having a very clear effect on everyone. The old hags were tightening the ropes and cast multiple silencing charms to shut him up. The younger women's eyes were ablaze with fury, and he could see some hands ignite with fiendfyre. Jean's shoulders were shaking in mirth, but it didn't last long. In a few moments, the arrived at the entrance of the Portal, and he closed his eyes.

Nobody was going to see the tears that were threatening to spill.

One of the other elders spoke, her voice reaching across the clearing with the aid of a sonorous charm. "Today is the day we rid ourselves of this worthless piece of trash once and for all!" The harpies cheered with a harshness that was even harsher than usual. "His parents abandoned him, and all of us kept away from his filth. To save ourselves from the cataclysm that his Change would surely bring, we must make use of this Portal one last time!" The women cheered, while Jean's eyes opened in shock. What does she mean, last time?'

His unasked question was answered by the only hag that hadn't spoken up yet. "We cannot risk the chance, no matter how small, that this bastard will find a way to come back for revenge. We shall destroy the Portal as soon as we toss him in!" Her words were responded with a group of cheers so loud that they bordered on squealing.

Jean's chest tightened. He was going to be stuck inside whatever was on the other side for the rest of his life. Two hundred years was a long time to be alone, and that was even if he could age. Against his will, he started hyperventilating, much to the sadistic pleasure of those who noticed.

Fortunately, (or not, depending on the point of view) the one who was levitating him threw back her wand, preparing to eliminate their 'greatest mistake'. As she threw her wand forward, there was only one thought that crossed Jean's mind. 'At least things can't get any worse from here, right?'

OOOOO

He was wrong. He was very, very, VERY wrong! Things could most certainly get worse.

First came the pressure. It surrounded him on all sides, pressing against every orifice as if he were being buried alive. It was nearly impossible to breath, and he was just barely able to force tiny gasps of air. Though that seemed to be a terrible idea. Yes, he was awake, but he was also conscious enough to experience the sheer agony of the cuts on his right hand deepen.

As soon as he thought he couldn't possibly be in any more pain, Fate deemed that as a challenge. The cuts began to spread up his arm, slicing even deeper through the muscle than in his hand. He knew that even if he could stay alive through this, his right arm will be useless for a long time to come.

As horrible as the pressure seemed to be now, things were going to deteriorate even further. Now it felt like there was a presence trying to examine him, as if his worth was being judged.

Jean decided that enough was enough. With the remnants of his consciousness, he focused all his efforts in repelling whatever was trying to mentally dissect him.

It was definitely harder than he expected. While he was still with the Veela, they would use their superior Allure to draw out his newly-discovered hormones. When he would get too close, they would scream and use their 'pure' magic to push him as deeply into the ground as possible. He was eventually able to form a fairly strong resistance, much to their annoyance. The day before he was forced into this exile, the five most physically attractive women cranked up their Allure as high as they could. Jean was able to last through ten minutes of watching them slowly disrobe, purring his name with half-lidded eyes, before his body unwillingly inched its way over to them. He thought that was impressive.

This force made the others feel like a child begging for candy from their parents. Whereas the asshole women took advantage of his teenage hormones, this felt like a hammer drilling into his mind. No matter how much he guarded his inner mind, he knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn't hold the demanding presence any longer.

Time seemed to stretch on for hours before the hammer slowed its assault, recoiling in… surprise? Whatever the reason, Jean was grateful for the respite. The force left his mind, and time seemed to quicken once again. The squeezing returned, but now there was a tiny speck of light that was rapidly growing larger. He tried to brace himself for wherever the light was going to lead him.

He had a gut feeling that his life was about to suck a lot more than before. Cursing Fate for her sense of humor, Jean stared into the light, prepared for whatever he was about to be thrown into.

'Out of the ropes, and into the fiendfyre… this'll be somuch fun.'

OOOOO

The first thing Jean noticed was how huge everything was. Buildings that loomed higher than some mountains surrounded him, so high that he could barely see the sky. There were flickering lights as far as his eyes could see, far brighter than any pitiful campfire his former 'companions' bothered to light. There also seemed to be large flying carts going faster than anyone in his ex-village could fly.

What was most jarring, however, were the different types of people: Some were green with black eyes and a narrow, circular mouth, some were shades of pink or blue or a light brown, with a pair of tentacles extending from their heads, which ranged in length from just below their shoulders to the bottom of their backs, and there were even creatures of metal holding some sort of weapon with a rod at the edge.

Realizing that he didn't recognize a single word that was being spoken around him, he silently cast a translation charm. The loud voices quickly made themselves understandable to him, and hearing about the 'good times' being promised left very little to his already perverted imagination. Once he finally took a full look around where he was going, he saw something that made his blood boil.

A red-skinned child with twin blue-white horns was being draped over one of those Metal Things, and there was a group of the wrinkled, green-skinned creatures surrounding the metal thing. They were pointing at the child with their circular weapons, occasionally slamming their butts into her skull. Jean let out a growl, and began approaching the group.

The Metal Thing stopped in its tracks, turning to face the approaching man. The Green People quickly followed suit, and quickly pointe their… their guns (thank you, language charm!) at him.

The Metal Thi—droid. It was a droid! "Unidentifiable creature, state your purpose. If you do not, you shall be eliminated." The Green People (Rodians, Jean. Rodians!) narrowed their eyes at who they saw as an annoying goody-two-shoes that was about to be filled with plasma. Hell, he already looked the part with the amount of blood dripping down his arm.

The male Veela fought back his sudden nervousness, and cleared his throat. "Who is that child on your shoulder, and why are you beating her with your… guns?"

Whatever response he was expecting, laughter certainly wasn't one of them. The Rodians were clearly sharing a joke at his expense. He didn't see the humor in beating a child, and his distaste in their fun made them laugh even harder.

Once they finally recovered from their hysterics, one of the green beings was finally able to speak. "This, boy, is one of the Jedi scum. The bane of mercenaries everywhere, and we finally struck a blow against them! This girl was wandering around, and we decided that she needed to be taught some manners before she became all high and mighty like the rest of her kind." When he finally stopped speaking, he rose what looked to be his eyebrow. "You do know what a Jedi is, right? You humans seem to fall all over yourselves to their every whim. Did you come to beg to exchange yourself for the girl? You don't look like you'd be worth even half a credit."

Jean rose his eyebrow and looked at the Rodian as if he was crazy. Well, he surmised, since he was getting his kicks from beating children, he was probably at least halfway to the looney bin. "Nope. Never heard of them. All I see are some green people and a robot holding a little girl hostage. You must feel so proud of yourselves!" His eyes narrowed, and he flared his Magic at the group. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to let her go."

At this, all the ambient noise stopped, and he felt hundreds of eyes zero in on him at once. The Rodians in front of him took a nervous step back, suddenly wary of this bloody newcomer. Even the droid briefly retreated from him, like a deer that just spotted a hunter.

Hearing the clicking of what he felt were hundreds of guns (what did they call them? Blastie rifles? Bastard rifles? I got it…Blaster Rifles!) he raised his good hand towards the mercenaries, gathered as much power as he could, and shouted the one spell he knew would be strong enough to stop the four of them.

"Levicorpus!"

One moment, the droid and Rodians were standing still, holding their weapons. The next, they were flipped upside down, screaming (yes, even the robot) and dropping everything in their arms, desperate to save themselves. Their rifles clattered to the ground.

As did the girl on the robot.

Berating himself for his carelessness, Jean sprinted to pick her up. He looked up, and gulped; he read the theory on apparating, but never had a chance to practice. Now, the only place to teleport to was hundreds of feet in the air.

He spent a second gathering his bearings, and another to build his magic again. 'Well, it's now or never, dummy. You always wanted to climb mountains. Now, you can cheat the climb!' Taking one last deep breath, he popped away from the ground.

And two feet below the roof of the building he was aiming for.

Letting out a very unmanly scream, he latched onto the ledge with his free arm. Hissing in pain, he belatedly realized that he reached out with his mangled arm. Before his grip could slip, he tossed the red-skinned girl up to the roof. Fortunately, he succeeded. She was on the roof.

Unfortunately, his arm let out a trio of pops, and he let out a scream that echoed for what seemed like miles around. Looking down, he saw that the group he hexed, as well as the people around them, snapped their eyes up to look at him. A moment passed before they came to their senses, and they started firing their guns at him.

As quickly as he could, he vaulted himself over to the roof, but not before he received a few rewards for his efforts. Namely, two shots landing on his right thigh and another grazing his right shoulder. His entire body started to burn, and he knew he didn't have long. If there were that many people on the lowest level, he could only imagine how many more were inside the building.

As if praying to the deity of horrible, terrible, no good, very bad luck, the door leading to the roof burst open, and at least a dozen surrounded the two of them. Looking around once again, Jean grabbed the girl and took one more leap of faith…

OOOOO

Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was in a very tight situation. He was tasked with watching over the younglings while Master Yoda was away on a visit to Kashyyyk. He had just received word from his old apprentice that there was another uprising in Geonosis, and that he would appreciate his diplomatic skills.

Actually, his exact words were "Get your ass over here and use your magical charm to get these damned bugs drooling in your hand like last time!"

Entertained by Anakin's annoyance at having to deal with the Geonosians, he missed one of the learners disappearing through the vents leading outside. Doing a quick sweep of the room, he saw that it was Ahsoka Tano that had pulled another disappearing act.

He sighed. Even his patience would be tested if she were to be his padawan. "At this rate, she'll be the only padawan to reach fourteen before being accepted by a master." He appreciated some spunk every so often (he had Anakin as an apprentice, after all), the Togruta was bordering on excessive.

Quickly exiting the Jedi Temple after asking Aayla Secura to watch over the rest of the children, Obi-Wan sprinted after the wandering girl. Using the force to guide him, he searched for the wandering learner. Ahsoka's enthusiasm would be very present in her aura, as she hadn't yet learned to tame her wild side.

When he located her Force Signature, his light-hearted aggravation came to an end.

Ahsoka was very, very weak. He could tell that she was at least knocked out, perhaps worse. He also noted how there was another presence nearby, one that he had never seen before. He saw that the unknown person was constantly moving with her, gradually coming closer to his position.

When he expanded his senses, he saw that there were at least a hundred others pursuing them, and they were steadily gaining on them.

As he was about to leap towards their latest position, he heard a popping noise in front of him, and the sight he was greeted with would haunt his dreams for months to come.

Ahsoka was fine, for the most part. She was bruised on her head, her lip was split, and one of her legs was decorated with a long gash.

That wasn't good, by any stretch of the imagination, but at least she wasn't as badly injured as the man below her. For starters, his entire right arm was covered in cuts and caked in blood. Both of his legs looked like they had blaster burns covering them, as well as the top of his right shoulder. His face was a mess: bits of ground were stuck inside his cheeks, both of his lips were split, and his jaw looked like a Wookie had socked him. Overall, he looked like he just went through hell, and he only saw the front of his body!

The bearded Jedi Master made a snap decision, one that he knew he would never regret for the rest of his days.

He picked up both Ahsoka and the man (who couldn't even open his eyes!) and headed to the Jedi Temple as quickly as he could. He rapidly outpaced his followers despite the extra weight holding him down with the aid of the Force. In about half the time it took him to reach the spot that he found the two injured, he arrived back at the Temple.

Ignoring the greetings that the Jedi Knights gave him, as well as the horrified gasps that followed, Obi-Wan rushed to the Bacta-Bay. The staff took one look at the bodies he was carrying before pulling out two more Bacta-Tanks and placing the wounded duo inside them.

After a few minutes, he saw Ahsoka's readings stabilize. She was going to make a full recovery, thankfully.

Her savior, however, was fading fast. His heartrate was falling, his breathing was getting shallower, and the wounds were healing far too slow to make a recovery in time.

"Dammit!" Kenobi muttered, pounding his fist into a wall, creating a small crater. "You've done so much for one of our own. Don't die on me now!"

OOOOO

For once, Jean knew that he was going to do something incredibly stupid, and was going to regret it. Saving the life of an innocent girl, however, would make at least one thing go right in his miserable life.

He was going to apparate.

In a straight line.

Repeatedly.

It was the only thing he could see that would work. He knew that sooner or later his magic would run out, and going up and down building would just wear him out more. The only choice was to go straight ahead, as quickly as his dwindling supply of magic would allow.

And so, he began with the first teleportation off the roof. Later, he would realize that he could have just gone straight to the ground, but later wasn't now. His first pop left him and the girl a hundred feet in the air. Frantically, he apparated twice more, cutting the fall to a manageable twenty feet. His jaw still managed to land on the ground first, breaking it completely, but he had to keep trudging on.

The next three pops were each rewarded with another bullet burning his legs. He ignored the increasingly demanding urge to stop and rest for a moment. If he stopped, she would die. He could NOT let that happen.

Jean snapped at his body and dwindling reservoir of magic. 'Come on, you lazy bastard! I need more juice, so stop being lazy and just give me some!' Thankfully, his body responded with another two pops, even though they were only fifty feet each, less than a quarter of his original jumps. Begging his body for one more leap, he poured every bit of energy he had into this last apparition. He was not disappointed.

Instead of the usual two-hundred feet per jump, Jean managed to go over a thousand feet, and landed right in front of a man who looked a lot kinder than the ones chasing him. He tried to smile at him, but it took all his strength to keep himself awake.

Magical exhaustion was setting in with a vengeance, to put it mildly.

Groaning at the sensation of being lifted in the air, something he had never felt before. He was able to crack an eye open to look at his mysterious savior. He looked like he would be in his mid-thirties, with his very brown, very thick beard standing out like a sore thumb. 'Maybe he could show me how to grow something even half that awesome.'

Eventually, he just settled into the ride, letting all his aches and pains settle in full force. His legs were both throbbing from the heat of the laser rounds burning into his skin. His right arm was completely ruined, and his back was littered with scars. The only part of him that was safe was his left arm, and even that was sore from carrying his injured companion.

The beard-man took them to some sort of room with tubes holding blue liquid, and placed them both inside their own container. The aches were starting to ease, but things weren't looking much better for Jean.

With the girl, though, he knew she was getting better. He heard the barded one say "thank the Force she'll be alright" and knew he had succeeded. He knew that he had finally helped someone.

With that last thought, he stopped fighting the pain wracking his body, and let himself relax into the soothing blue gel…

OOOOO

Hey guys!Long time no speak! College has been super busy, and personal crap has made it nearly impossible to focus on anything but attempting schoolwork.But now I'm kind of back :P

I needed to get this out there.It's been on my mind for months, ever since I read a story called Last Second Savior by plums.The rest of my stories will be updated eventually, but it'll be a long process for a while.

Merry Christmas, all!And to all a good night!