Harry Potter and the Recusant Successors by NeverGonnaStop
Notes:
This crossover takes place in the Harry Potter universe a few days before the first chapter of "Order of the Phoenix" and in the Star Wars universe in "Son of Dathomir" Chapter 3(Which I'm sure you can find online for free. I did.) just as Mace Windu and Aayla Secura land on the asteroid base.
Obviously earth in this universe never had a film-maker by the name of George Lucas and as such has no knowledge of the Star Wars universe.
Furthermore this entire story only takes place on earth. I couldn't find a star wars crossover that took place on Harry's home turf. Hence this story you are reading.
That's all you need to know before we begin.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1:
Skyfall
"And you be sure to give my love to Petunia." Mrs Figg called as he exited her house.
Harry waved diplomatically as he began the short trek from Wisteria Walk to Privet Drive. Mrs Figg was the local cat lady, one who once labored under the odious task of babysitting Harry in his pre-wizarding days.
She recently took up the hobby of tea ceremony. Trying the delightful varieties of foreign teas and watching her attempts at Japanese traditions would have been a wonderful experience were the smell and taste of jasmine and mandarin orange drinks not ruined by the odor of stale cat litter and fur.
The conversation didn't make up for it. Today she had ranted and raved about the Indonesian people. While Harry did agree that, yes, making tea by soaking dead cats in warm water was equal parts disgusting and inhumane, it wasn't something he wanted to discuss while drinking concoctions from the same continent that boasted such a practice.
He couldn't help but ponder whether the magical community of Indonesia also practiced cat tea but with kneazles.
He shuddered at the thought and vowed never to ask Hermione out of fear of the animal rights crusade that would ensue. Maybe the Patils would know? India was pretty close to Indonesia right?
The only positive thing about spending time with Mrs Figg, aside from it being preferable to spending time with his relatives, was the free access to her television and, as such, the news.
Nothing particularly interesting had been reported since the start of his summer holiday. Honestly, all he got from the experience was an entire record studios worth of commercial jingles and slogans stuck in his brain.
He was humming one such jingle when the sound of blaring sirens broke him out of his reverie.
He froze at the noise. He'd never heard them before, or at least not in real life. If anything they sounded like world war 2 air raid sirens. Was London being bombed? Surely they would have all been alerted to a coming invasion long before enemy planes arrived.
All earlier concerns of Death Eaters and magic fled from him as he remembered a much more likely possibility. A possibility that until the fall of the Berlin wall just a few years earlier felt all too real to those raised in the Muggle world.
Was nuclear war upon them?
Harry would have laughed at how woefully unprepared most purebloods would be if it was, but he was too busy sprinting the remaining distance back to Number 4.
The yellowing grass of the Dursley home greeted him as he approached, and his aunt did the same at the door.
"Oh thank goodness!" She squaled as she ushered - see shoved - him inside. "Dudley is already downstairs. Vernon is grabbing anything edible. Take whatever you need from your room and join us in the basement. Quickly!"
Harry blinked at the utter strangeness of seeing his aunt in such a state. Was Petunia... Concerned? Somehow the prospect of the panicking woman giving a single damn about him terrified Harry more than the prospect of becoming a shadow on the wall.
"What's going on?" He asked, barely able to hear his own words over the sirens.
Petunia opened the door to the living room and pointed inside. Harry strained to hear the newscaster. Thank Merlin for subtitles.
"This is not a drill! Reports from NASA and the international space station both confirm an approaching asteroid due to strike the United Kingdom. Everybody is instructed to find a bunker, subway or basement and tuck in. I repeat..."
An asteroid? A bloody asteroid! He couldn't decide if that was better or worse than worldwide nuclear war.
Probably better. Less radioactive fallout. And if it's just one asteroid hopefully only England and the surrounding countries will be wiped out instead if the whole world. Though Harry would prefer to live long enough to someday kiss a girl and not die at all before the ripe old age of three hundred and eighty four.
"Hedwig!" Harry called as he ran upstairs.
He had let the snowy-white owl out for a flight just before going to meet Mrs Figg. The owl had longe-since lost its nocturnal nature in favor of spending her days awake and in Harry's company. He was beginning to regret having such a strong bond with her.
She was not in her cage, on the perch beside the window nor even visible on the neighboring rooftops. He could only hope she was smart enough to get somewhere safe. Reflecting on his past experiences with her he reckoned she was.
Fortunately all of his belongings were in his room instead of locked in the cupboard downstairs as in previous years. Unfortunately they were scattered in such a manner as to suggest the asteroid had already struck. He prioritized things that were irreplaceable, and as close to being worth dying for as any non-person could be.
The Marauder's map lay under his pillow for ease of perusal and his invisibility cloak was stuffed behind the headboard for ease of escape. He left all of his schoolbooks and clothes, as those could all be re-purchased, save for the four years worth of sweaters from Mrs Weasley which he stuffed into his shirt alongside his father's cloak.
He snatched up a few other doodads that were within easy reach, like the sneakoscope and omnioculars, and stuffed them into his pockets. It was as he turned to bolt back downstairs that a sharp pain on his ankle made him yelp.
The sight of the miniature dragon from the first task desperately clawing up his leg in search of protection reminded him how serious of a situation he was in. If even inanimate objects were panicking then maybe it was time to get his arse into gear.
He pocketed it along with the other doodads and stuck his head out of the window one last time.
"Hedwi..."
He stopped midway through calling for his faithful companion. The sky was alight with a bright fireball, still too far away to make out in any detail. He wasn't experienced in identifying incoming space rocks but something about it seemed off.
He pulled the omnioculars back out of his pocket and held it awkwardly against his glasses. Turning one of the many dials on the haphazard device allowed him to zoom in on the incoming ball of death more efficiently than any telescope. What he saw boggled even his mind.
"That's no meteor." He gasped as he made out what looked like an arrowhead made of silver. "That's a spaceship!"
And so it was. The obviously artificial nature of the construction, to say nothing of the red paint, spoke of intelligent design.
As if his life wasn't bizarre enough already. Now there were aliens!
"Hedwig!" He yelled out through the window one last time.
It was then that something even louder than the blaring sirens roared overhead and he looked up to see balls of fire and rock shoot over the two thousand year old city and hopefully into the english channel where they would harm the fewest people.
"Okay. Those are definitely meteors."
Harry banished all thoughts of extraterrestrial visitors and avian friends from his mind as he lumbered back downstairs. He stopped just before reaching the bottom.
He could hide in the basement with the Dursleys. For an indeterminate number of days. With the Dursleys. Until rescue teams came in to dig them out of the rubble. With the Dursleys. With no running water or personal space. With the Dursleys.
Or...
"I'll take my chances."
He sprinted back upstairs and snatched up his Firebolt. It was close to being on the list of irreplaceable things, having been a gift from his godfather, but he had figured Sirius would be happier to find Harry alive without the sports broom than dead grasping onto it like a biblical treasure. Now it was his best bet to get somewhere he was almost certain could survive an asteroid. Or a spaceship falling so fast that it might as well be an asteroid.
"Harry! Where are you going!" Vernon called after him as he reached the front door.
He looked back at the couple standing beside the basement door and felt his insides go cold.
If anything cemented his decision to leave in search of a better bunker, the look of genuine worry and compassion on his aunt and uncle's faces, directed at him, did just that.
Harry fled from Privet Drive in absolute terror.
He knew the Firebolt could exceed speeds of two hundred miles per hour and hoped that he could reach Gringotts in record time without worrying about breaking the statute of secrecy. Emergency clauses and all that.
But would the goblins let him in and down to his vault in time? He was sure there was some precedent about vaults doubling as safehouses in an emergency like this. They had done so during the great London fiendfires in the 17th century at least. And during the bombing raids of both world wars.
Harry promised himself to never again sleep through a lecture from Professsor Binns if he managed to get out of this alive. He further promised that he'd attend the ghost's classes for the rest of eternity if he didn't get out of this alive.
He kept glancing over his shoulder as more meteorites and metal debris peppered the city around him like a great, fiery hailstorm. Soon enough he was praising Oliver Wood's name to the heavens as he put into practice the hundreds of hours of Quidditch training the team captain had forced him through.
At the time, practicing bludgeor dodging during a thunderstorm seemed unnecessarily cruel. Now it seemed like child's play.
"Shit!"
He yanked into a dive just as what could only be described as a high-tech fighter jet nearly clipped him.
He pulled up in time to see the vehicle tear through an office building to the right of him.
When he pulled his broom horizontal again it was to confront the challenge of evading eighteen stories of glass and steel descending upon him like the foot of a Greek titan. He pushed his broom to the upper limit but there was no chance of him clearing the distance necessary to avoid being turned into a waffle. Not a pancake, a rebar and glass studded waffle.
"Bombarda!" He yelled, pointing his wand to the window directly above him.
He raced through the shattered window, wand still in hand, and began a fast-paced game of "dodge the metal filing drawers and staplers." He weaved between the freefalling furniture, cubicle walls and human beings as best he could but had to resort to several more blasting curses to pass through the walls unscathed.
Bile rose in his throat as he tried to ignore the guilt of knowing he couldn't save any of the men or women that flew past him towards the ground and their inevitable death. He thanked the heavens once more, this time for the small mercy of being unable to hear their screams over the rushing wind in his ears or crumbling concrete around him.
One final blasting curse removed another window from the opposite side of the building, which was now effectively the ceiling, and he ascended into the open sky once more. He had lost control of his broom during the last push and was spinning out of control upon his exit.
In the time it took for him to wrest control of his momentum and catch his bearings before trying to spot a landmark to guide him towards Diagon Alley he realized that his time was up.
There was a brief pause. A sudden silence as if the earth itself were bracing for impact.
He saw it. A bright flash of light as the ship dove into the earth like the head of a spade. It kicked up mountains of dirt, buildings and pipes the deeper it dug. Soon an outright tsunami of dirt, rock, metal and fire was sweeping in all directions from the impact site. From his distance it could have almost been mistaken for an actual tsunami of muddy water.
It was truly surreal, witnessing such profound destruction but being so far away that the sound had yet to reach him. And so Harry sat there on his broom, mesmerized, as he waited for the end to come.
It was all so indescribably beautiful.
The shockwave from the impact deafened him as he was tossed about like a ragdoll by the scorching-hot and gale-force winds.
All was blackness after that.