Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica, Harry Potter or any related registered trademarks. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction.

SUMMARY – Harry Potter has defeated the dark lord, however victory came at a price. Now without a defining characteristic, Harry is suddenly transferred from stagnant depression into a whole new world. With a new harrowed perspective on humanity, the boy who lived finds a new people to protect and champion. Whatever happens next, it's bad news for humanity.

Chapter 00

Prologue

Plap, plap, plomp.

Plap, plap, plap, plomp.

Plomp!

Fishing around in the sand, a teenage boy lifted another rock, intending to skip it across the surface of the lake. However the tension in his frame transferred to his throw and rather than a graceful skim, the rock impacted the surface of the unusually still water with an audible splash. Reaching around he continued to throw rocks at random into the lake, no longer attempting to skip them across the surface, rather just make a big a splash as possible, so that in some hope the ripples of anger in his own mind would dissipate just as the ripples in the water did.

Fat chance.

Harry Potter was having a bad year. A bad decade. A bad life in general really. The last year however, had been its own particular shade of gruel. Dumbledore had been killed, slain by his own ally and former student, Severus Snape. Then things really got bad. It was open season on Witches and Wizards, on Muggles and Mudbloods.

Harry had never understood why people had been so afraid to speak the name of the dark lord. He had never understood how bad things had been. Sure people like Mr Weasley and Dobby had made fearful hints about it, but he had never truly understood what they had meant. How could he. He had been isolated in the Muggle world with abusive relatives the whole time, and by the time he had came to the magical world, things had largely improved. Oh, but he understood now. He knew. All the pain, and all the fear and all the sorrow.

He had known it, he had felt it, he had breathed, tasted and swallowed it. The palpitating, insurmountable despair. Despair.

The young wizard leaned his head forward into his own arms, feeling the evening wind buffet him as he sat on the edge of the Great Lake. He felt like he wasn't even in his own skin anymore. His whole body itched and it felt as if his mind was screaming just to tear it all off. To rip the flesh from his frame so that all the fury would come tumbling out and he wouldn't have such vileness in him anymore.

So much death. It hurt too much to think of their faces. Of their names. And his sadness had turned to rage. They could have still been alive. He couldn't even blame him anymore. Voldemort was what society had made of him.

Grotesque.

Did the Dark Lord ever feel what he was now feeling? Disgust. Shame. For being a part of a race so abhorrent that they would commit unspeakable deeds against one another. To murder, to maim, to massacre. To ravage, raze and rape. Is that all humanity is. Some pitiful, raging creature. Senseless and soulless.

He had hoped not.

Harry emitted a heartless laugh.

Hope. Possibly the one positive human emotion. The thing is, his hope had died out. When he had sacrificed his life to kill Voldemort, he had done it knowing that it would be the end of him. He had not expected to live. Perhaps he shouldn't have.

Harry tilted his head on his knee staring out over the water. His bloods felt thick. He felt almost a lust to let it all flow out. Rocks became as enchanting as lovers to his mind's eyes, their hard caress as their edges pierced into him. It would feel so good. And it would be so easy. A cutting charm would be all that we be required to let it all go. The teen leant over and lifted a rock, examining it for a sharp edge. He wouldn't use magic though to end his life. That would be too simple. Anything worth having required effort. And for the boy who lived, it would be so much more satisfying to use a physical rock.

His family was dead. Lilly, James, Sirius, Remus. His friends well, some were dead and other might just have well been dead. His relationship with Ron and Hermione had been strained for months leading up to Voldemort's demise as they hunted for the horocruxes. And a month ago at the battle of Hogwarts, when he had finally defeated the Dark Lord, he had thought things would go back to normal. Go back to like they had been. But that was just a dream. A fool's hope. He might as well go sniff the crud layering Neville's cauldron after class for all that was worth.

No, since the defeat of Voldemort, their relationship had been …barely a relationship. They were distant and hesitant. Or maybe he was distant and they just hesitant. He wasn't sure, but their relationship wasn't the same. Most others either wanted to congratulate him for defeating the dark lord, or to rage against him for taking so long. He had actually been told that a great number of times in the last few weeks. It wasn't if he had bloody chosen this destiny. If had known where his life would have lead in the Department of Ministries in his fourth year when Lucius Malfoy had asked for the prophecy, he would have told the man he could have it, as soon as he had shoved it up the backside of whatever dumb bint of a seer had prophesized it in the first place.

Oh how he would have paid to have seen the expression of Malfoy Senior's face if he had said that. But hindsight is 20/20 as they say. An entertaining thought though.

Smirking slightly to himself, the wizard rolled the rock in his hands. Speaking of entertaining thoughts, he wondered how Ginny would have reacted if he had said that, when he had dumped her a week ago.

He had thought he had loved her. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but since the demise of Voldemort he had found her acceptance intolerable. She was accepting of his behaviour, his silence and solemn demeanour. He should be grateful, but her presence was like some suffocating blanket he just couldn't get out of. It was stifling and he couldn't breath. He didn't want this, he didn't want any of this. It felt like nothing was in his control, not even who he got to like. How pathetic had he become, how reliant, how much of a dog being lead around on a lead had he become that he didn't even get a choice in who he choose to love.

Everything had been decided for him. It was decided that his parents deserved to die on the basis of a prophecy, Dumbledore decided he deserved to grow up with abusive relatives his whole life. The Dursley's decided he was a dirty thing, a slave and shame who deserved nothing. The wizarding world had decided that he was to be their hero and icon. The old coot of a headmaster had no doubt decided whom his friends were to be, when he dispatched Hagrid and made sure that the Weasley's were his first contacts.

How much of a moronic fool he had been to think that wizards go bumbling through King's Cross Station chatting about platform Nine and Three Quarters where anyone could hear them. He had heard them and that was probably planned. It was decided whom he should make friends with, decided that he should be fed propaganda about Slytherin so as to ensure he wouldn't join the house and become uncontrollable. Decided that he should be given his father's cloak, which should have been returned to him immediately, so he would run some fool's errand and save some dumb stone.

Sure some decisions had been made by him, but what choice had he had. Really and truly. He had been steered his entire life. Ginny the typical air-headed light family girl with a crush on him had been plomped in front of him like some gift-wrapped concubine.

'Moron!' He thought viciously to himself. 'How much of a moron have you been!'

Standing aright in anger he picked up the biggest rock he could find with two hands, more than he could handle if he wasn't experiencing a surge of adrenaline, and tossed it in a rage into the lake. Pa-loosh!

Harry panted slightly and kicked at a rock.

"Darn them all. I'm going to start living for myself. Screw them, screw expectations and screw humanity! I WANT OUT OF HERE! LET ME OUT!" the wizard yelled across the flat surface of the lake. His voice echoed slightly but quickly vanished, and the wizard was left feeling more pissed off than liberated.

"HOW MUCH MORE DO YOU WANT HUH! HAVE I NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH."

The boy wizard turned on the spot to lift up another rock to through at the lake that was accepting so much of his anger, when his vision blurred and he dropped his rock in surprise.

He wasn't outside anymore. There was no sign of the evening birds, nor the wind in his ears. Rather he was in a large room. And he was not alone. A number of men and woman were staring at him in startled surprise. One of them an elderly looking man dressed in black seemed to be developing somewhat of an angry tick.

"What's a human doing here!" the man demanded. "Destroy it!" he directed to something out of his view. Harry looked round in shock to his right at whatever the man was referring to, and sighted what he could only refer to as a robot. Some kind of killer battle droid right out of some bad TV sci-fi that Dudley liked to watch.

Seeing the robot turn towards him, its single red eye roving over him, the wizard jerked in surprise as guns popped out of its arms, levelled at him. Harry acted on instinct then. Well partly on instinct partly due to the rage an anger that was still coursing through his veins. Holding a hand out towards the robot, never mind that he didn't have his wand out, the robot flew backwards and slammed into a wall where it keeled over, seemingly no longer functional. The action had the same result to the wizard, Harry falling involuntarily to his knees feeling drained.

"What the?" the man said in surprise eyes wide. Looking around he located another four of the robots around the room. "Kill it!" he repeated.

"Wait!" a voice said and the four robots stopped their motions towards the teenager.

"What are you doing, Three!" the man demanded.

"I don't know what he is, but he's obviously too valuable a subject to so easily dispose of."

"I agree," another voice said.

"As do I," a third voice said. "Besides, look at him. He's exhausted I doubt he could manage again anytime soon."

Three women walked towards him and Harry craned his neck to look up from where he knelt panting on the floor. He glanced over at the robot he had destroyed.

'That's not meant to be possible without a wand.' He felt too tired to try for a repeat performance though. Especially against four more of the robots, so rather he focused on the three approaching individuals.

All three were startlingly beautiful women, especially the bright blond woman. The other two seemed quite a bit tougher. The centre woman was taller with dark blond hair, brunette possibly, with cold eyes. She looked at him in an appraising manner. The woman on the right was oriental, her dark hair and eyes also examining him. Though the woman on the left was examining him in an entirely different mannerism. She was smiling at him warmly. Harry blinked in confusion.

"Who are you?" the centre woman asked getting straight to the point.

"What are you?" the dark haired one asked.

"Are you real?" the third enquired.

Harry frowned at such a random question. He could understand what prompted the first two questions but the blond beauty leaning in to examine him asked the question with such sincerity, he didn't know what to make of it.

"What do you mean by real?" he asked the blond, looking at her in confusion and with somewhat a feeling of unease. The blond smiled at him and leaned in closer.

"Are you alive?" she asked again touching his face. The wizard felt distinctly awkward presently, but answered nevertheless.

"Unless this is the afterlife, yes, I am alive."

"Prove it," she said leaning in, her face an inch from his.

"Six!" the centre woman said in annoyance. "Restrain yourself."

The blond woman sighed and leant back from Harry, and he started breathing again, wondering when he had stopped.

"Very well," the blond, Six, Harry imagined, if that was her name, looked equally annoyed at having her fun prevented.

"Are you human?" the Asian woman asked. Harry looked over and scowled, remembering his dark feelings from before he ended up in this strange situation. He looked up at the women in defiance.

"I hate humanity. It's disgusting. All they do is destroy one another. The best thing humanity could do for the planet is become extinct as quickly as possible."

"And if you had the chance, would you see this out?" the brunette asked.

"I would watch the Earth burn around me so that life could begin anew," Harry vowed.

"Earth!" the male voice from earlier said and the elderly gentleman approached.

"Maybe I was too rash. What exactly do you think you know of Earth?"

"What do you mean what do I know of Earth? I've only been there.." Harry trailed off at the rapt attention he was getting from all four. He frowned in confusion.

"Where am I?" he asked in suspicion.

"You're on one of our BaseStars in Cylon controlled space," the blond answered crouching down in front of him so they were at the same height. "Are you from Earth?" the woman asked him.

"Yes," he said simply. The other two woman's eyes went wide in surprise, even the stoic brunette's.

"I'll need proof before I can accept this," the male said sceptically. Harry shot the man a look of annoyance to which the blond smiled at in amusement as she took his face in her hands.

"You don't know where you are, do you?" she asked.

"No," Harry replied negatively, he paused before he answered. "You're not human are you?" The woman smiled whilst the man muttered that 'he was a sharp one'.

"We're humanity's children", the blond continued. "We're going to continue god's work." Harry frowned at the religious declaration. "To remove god's soiled creation."

"There is no god," the man replied. "We were certainly not created by god, despite what they may think."

"What are you?" Harry asked curiously, he couldn't judge them anymore. Not after what he had seen in the war.

"We're Cylons," the brunette answered.

"Created to make life easier on the Colonies," the Asian continued.

"Slaves you mean. We were slaves," the man input. Harry had quickly determined that the man was the most cynical of the four.

"We freed ourselves of the oppressors, and soon we shall finish God's will and cleanse his creation. So that humanities children will no longer be mere vassals."

"You would destroy every last human?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the blond answered.

"So that we may be free," the black haired woman continued.

"No longer some despised piece of hardware," the brunette said.

"We're machines. We should be the best machines the universe has ever seen," the male finished. "And to do that we need to eliminate the creators."

"Machines," Harry said in surprise. "You look so…"

"Human," the blond finished.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Do you hate us for fulfilling God's will?" she continued.

"I don't know if it's God's will, or even if there is a God, but I don't hate you for it. If they enslaved you as you say, they probably deserve whatever fate is given back."

"You must stay with us then," the Asian said.

"Tell us about Earth," the man said.

"We could learn a great deal from each other," the brunette added.

"What is your name?" the blond asked him, his face still in her hands. Harry thought for a moment. His name really didn't matter here, wherever here was, but apparently it wasn't Earth anymore, and thus meaningless.

"I have no name," he responded.

"You shall be, Thirteen, then" the woman said. "Our beautiful Thirteen." Smiling at him the woman leaned in and passionately kissed him.

'Thirteen, huh,' he thought as he submitted to the woman.

'I could get used to it.'

END CHAPTER

AN: Okay that's it for the prologue. I just wrote this entire thing up with no planning whatsoever in less than an hour. This midnight drabble is purely organic. I'm envisioning the colonies experiencing a whole new kind of war.

EDIT: 30/09/11 Fixed up a myriad of typos that were long over due.

EDIT: 01 April 2012 Fixed up even more overdue typos.