AN: Hey guys I'm piggy backing off of kyjori's story The Unknown Apprentice if you've read it you will recognize the first couple of chapters. I hope i can turn this into an epic story wish me luck and enjoy the ride.

I do not own HP or Star Wars, both of these are owned by J.K Rowling and George Lucas.

Summary: Hagrid has just introduced the idea of Harry being a wizard and strolling into the Leaky Cauldron. This is a possible scenario where Harry decided to shake Professor Quirrell's hand and Voldemort was already possessing Quirrell

Prologue

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub that Harry would never have identified nor placed it to be the entrance to the spectacular wizarding world that Hagrid talked so much about. While Harry was pondering on how this unassuming place was so special, Hagrid had steered him inside.

For a famous place, it was quite dark and shabby. The architecture was quite old fashiond; the stonework reminded Harry of medieval construction. Even the upholstery was archaic, long wooden benches that spanned the room sort of like the halls of old castles that he had seen in his textbook for history. His thoughts were interrupted by apparent owner of the grungy establishment.

"The usual, Hagrid?" Tom called out.

"Can't Tom, I'm on Hogwartts business," said Hagrid, clapping his enormous hands on Harry's shoulder and making his knees buckle.

"Good Lord," replied the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this - can it be-?"

All of a sudden the whole tavern had gotten up and an eerie silence was set upon the place.

"Bless my soul," whispered Tom, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

Instantly on guard for the unusual, Harry was rushed by the patrons and Tom himself as the masses insisted on shaking his hands, thanking him, and bowing to him for something he didn't even remember. Harry scanned the masses around him and was eventually drawn on someone wearing a turban. Harry thought only Arabic people wore turbans.

"Professor Quirrell," Hagrid voice boomed over the crowd, "would you like to meet young Harry?" Hagrid turns to Harry and gives him a wide smile. "He will be your teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts Harry."

Harry Automatically sticks out his hand in a polite gesture. "Nice to meet you sir," but when their skin contacted as two hands met, at once, there was a knife like pain that was spreading across all contact points between the two ofthem. The burning pain sensation was nothing like he had ever experienced before. It felt likee scalding oil was dropped all ove his palm and his forehead felt like it was being stuck inside a raging woodstove.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME POTTER" Quirrell exclaims, but it wasn't his voice. It was much raspier and seemed to cause panic in the tavern. This was totally different than the trembling tones that Quirrell spoke with earlier, but one filled with rage and a harshness that would only belong to something from the underworld. Harry finally lets go but the damage is already done. He notices massive blisters on his hand, but Quirrell's hand resembled dried limestone that was beginning to crumble.

Hagrid was just standing their dumbfounded having no idea what was going on. Harry could do nothing as Quirrell used his remaning good hand to quickly draw his wand, Harry was introduced to a green beam of light heading straight for him. It lit up the whole environment with a green hue that was like the aurora lights. Harry vaguely recalled the words leaving Quirrell's mouth were like the dreams that haunted him in the past... Avada Kedavra..

OK THATS THE BEGINNING HOPEFULLY WE CAN GO SOMEWHERE WITH THIS WISH ME LUCK