AN: I'm glad that people seem to be enjoying this story; I've got ten reviews already! A few people have asked if Harry's going to be paired with Anakin...well, that will actually be impossible to do, but you're going to have to read on to find out why. Besides, I can't have Luke and Leia if Anakin doesn't fall in love with Padme.
The title of this story actually comes from the X-Ambassador's song by the same name; I thought that it suited both Anakin and Harry very well.
My sister, Anera527, has a really good Harry Potter/Star Wars crossover of her own: it's called The Potter of the Ages. For HP, it happens after Order of the Phoenix, where Dumbledore arrives late to the Ministry Battle and Voldemort captures Harry and tortures him. Harry's tossed through the Veil and ends up landing on Coruscant, after the Yuuzhan Vong War but before Jacen becomes a Sith. The last time she updated was January of last year, as a late Christmas gift for me. I just wouldn't stop asking her about it! So go support my wonderful sister, who is a much better writer than I am. And maybe help me convince her to update the next chapter?
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Chapter Two
Shmi Skywalker smiled up at the stars, one hand rubbing at her rounded belly. She couldn't help the thrill of excitement and hope that went through her, when it finally sank in that she was going to be a mother! But even so... Shmi began to worry. She was a slave, had been since she was young and her parents had been captured, and now her child would be born a slave. Her master wouldn't allow an abortion, and she wouldn't undergo one even if she had that choice, but would her child resent her for it?
She felt her child, her Star, kick inside her womb as soon as she had that thought, like he or she had heard and vehemently disagreed. She laughed quietly. "It's all right, my little Star," she murmured. "I'm glad you seem not to resent me for our lot in life." Shmi's hand glided across her belly. "But I promise you, son, that I will be here for you."
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Shmi held her tiny son in her arms, still recovering from the trial that was childbirth, and finally decided on what her child's name would be. There was no father, she'd never had even a boyfriend when younger, so there had been no opportunity to discuss names, and she was in quite a bit of shock for most of her pregnancy to even think past the impossibility that she was pregnant.
But now she had decided.
Anakin. A name meaning warrior. She hoped that he would fight for what he believed in, that he would be strong. Strong in more ways than just physically, because somehow she sensed that Anakin was not meant for the life of a slave; Anakin was meant for more. He would take the entire galaxy by storm and change it into something amazing.
She cuddled her tiny son closer to her and felt a small smile come to her lips. It was funny; holding her son now, in her arms, she finally felt complete...
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"Mama?"
Shmi tried to give her little Ani a smile but winced instead, the purple bruise on her cheek throbbing. Gurdulla the Hutt was harsh and demanding, no softer than the males of her species, and every day there was a threat of getting a beating.
"Mama!"
Anakin ran to her, his shaggy blond hair as messy as always. Sky-blue eyes, with the faintest trace of emerald green in their depths, looked up at his mother with concern. Young or not, Anakin was so different from others of his age; he knew things, sometimes before they happened, and his reflexes were much more than any other human. Shmi was scared; such abilities would be very useful, but most slave owners were cruel or just indifferent. What would happen to her only child? Would he be killed for his abilities, his gifts, would they take him from her, or would they try to twist his gifts and charm to their own desires?
"I'm all right, my little Star," Shmi murmured gently, threading her fingers through blond strands. "There are things you receive in life that are much worse than a simple bruise."
Anakin looked up at her, and in his eyes Shmi could see that some part of her little boy understood, somehow, what she was talking about. But she smiled as much as she could with the bruise on her face and kissed his forehead. "Now, how about you show me what new project you're working on?"
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Betting was an awful habit, Shmi knew; Lady Luck would betray you eventually and you would lose everything. Gurdulla the Hutt experienced part of this firsthand, losing Shmi and Anakin both to a Toydarian named Watto. Watto had seen Anakin fixing a complicated machine before the podrace had started, and the young boy's extraordinary talents had obviously caught his eye.
As mother and son looked around their new quarters, empty of any slaves except for them, Shmi tightened her grip on her little Star. (He was getting big, she absently noticed; soon she would no longer be able to hold him in her arms like this.) She didn't know much about Watto, since none of the other slaves had mentioned the alien and no other Hutts had either, so the Toydarian was a mystery to her. And that scared her. Would he treat them better than Gurdulla or would he be worse? And Anakin: would he be safe under Watto's ownership?
A little hand touched her cheek, and Anakin smiled at her. Shmi returned it, stroking his hair. "Now, why don't we see your new room? I'm sure that it'll be bigger than your old one, much more space for all your spare parts and projects. And then we can see about getting something to eat. Watto wants us at his shop tomorrow; remember, be on your very best behavior, my little Star." Anakin nodded in all the right places as his mother recited all the rules out of nerves; he knew that his mother was very afraid, and that just made him want to protect her even more. She did so much for him, and Anakin wanted to do something to show his mother how much he appreciated that. And that something was following what she said without complaint. But...
Maybe he could build her something? Something to help her around the house when he wasn't there? He'd have to think about that, figure out what he was even going to build, but Anakin felt excited. This project was going to be bigger and definitely more important than anything else he'd done before; after all, how many seven year olds went around building things for their mother to help her in the house?
And if he was building this because somewhere, deep in his heart, he feared what would happen if he wasn't there, well... no one else had to know. Anakin Skywalker had always had this fear of losing those he loved. The little boy didn't know where this fear came from, only that it was deeply rooted and nearly all-consuming.
Maybe all-consuming enough to destroy his whole life if he wasn't careful.
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More than anything else, Anakin wanted to be free.
He had been born a slave, something that he would never blame his mother for, and so had never known what being free even meant. Was it being allowed to do what you wanted, to make your own choices, to make your own path through life? Making your own mistakes, your own family, your own happiness? Would it be scary or liberating to be free after being a slave your whole life?
Anakin wanted to be free to travel, to see every star in the galaxy. He could hardly imagine all the different things to see out there, things that no one else had even dreamt of yet. To be the first one to see every star up there... Anakin eagerly looked up at the night sky, trying to decide which one he'd visit first, on that day when he and his mother were free.
And as always, when he looked up at the silver stars, the image of gray eyes and the sound of bark-like laughter flitted across his mind.
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There was almost nothing better than flying. Even when said flying was being done in a highly-dangerous, highly-fatal sport like podracing. The feeling of the wind in his face, the thrill of a dangerous flying sport that could end very badly, was nostalgic to the little boy. Like he'd done something similar, long ago or in a dream. Red hair, mischeivous laughter, and small golden balls came to mind, even though Anakin didn't understand what those images and sounds meant.
However, he did feel a little guilty about worrying his mother so much. She tried her best to protect him, from the harshness of their life and other dangers, and here he was racing pods with a high chance that he could die. But when Anakin brought that up, Shmi simply smiled at her son and said, "I don't like you participating in those podraces; no mother would. But even if Watto hadn't ordered you to race, I wouldn't stop you if that is truly what you want to do, my little Star." Seeing Anakin's stunned look, the older Skywalker laughed. "I will not be able to protect you forever. Eventually you will have to make your own choices and mistakes without me there to help, so I'm giving you some experience now, to help you when you get older. But know that I will always be praying for your safety, my little Star. You are the most precious thing in my life."
Anakin smiled and gave her the biggest hug ever, thanking her not only for trusting him with the responsibility but for her faith and love he had received his whole life.
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The years slowly passed, Anakin getting older, bigger, and just that little bit more knowledgeable of Tatooine and the galaxy as a whole. Shmi had a few gray hairs in her brown strands from trying to reign in her rambunctious and reckless little Star, but otherwise she was still as lovely, wise, and caring as always. They endured their way through life as a slave, doing their best to keep their spirits up.
Anakin presented his mother with a protocol droid shortly before his ninth birthday, a droid he had decided to name C-3PO, or Threepio for short, since the droid hadn't had any identification and his memory banks didn't extend further back than when Anakin had first activated him. He was the third member of their little family, despite his fussiness, and Threepio was quite useful for working around the house when Shmi was out working.
Anakin still needed to get plate coverings for the droid, or else the sand would eventually wreak havoc on his exposed wires and parts. Threepio didn't go outside very often so it wasn't too bad for now, but sand was always an issue on a desert planet like Tatooine. The stuff always got everywhere, no matter what the people in town tried to do. "I'm thinking gold," Anakin said to himself, eyeing Threepio carefully. "Not silver." Green and silver had always struck an uneasy chord in him; Anakin didn't hate them per say, but he tended to avoid those two colors. He preferred red and gold, though only certain shades of that first color, or even a nice blue. No oranges or ugly browns, though Anakin had never seen a protocol droid plated in brown or orange before. (Well, strictly speaking, he'd never seen a protocol droid before Threepio before, only heard about them from stories that pilots liked to share in canteenas. And in all those stories, they'd only been gold or silver.)
"Gold or silver plating's very expensive out here, little Star," Shmi remarked from nearby. She was cleaning their little home, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face whenever they escaped from her bun. "I think regular metal will have to do until you save up enough money."
Anakin frowned. "But regular metal wouldn't last very long with all the sand and heat outside, right?" The pilots that had worked with protocol droids before had told the little boy so interested in stories from exotic places that the metal plates on those droids, even if they weren't made wholly from gold or silver, were specially treated to not dull or melt even in extreme temperatures or high winds. Regular metal was not treated the same way and would eventually rust or worse if exposed to such conditions like on Tatooine.
"It wouldn't have to," Shmi shrugged. "And I could replace them every so often until you finally get the gold plates."
Anakin beamed at his mother, thanking her, before turning back to the eye he was working on for Threepio. Something was wrong with it and the droid couldn't actually see out of it, causing quite a few hilarious moments when Threepio would stumble into a wall or doorway.
"Mama..."
Shmi looked up at her son, seeing the faraway look in his eyes as he said, "Something's coming; something that'll change our lives."
And done! A couple little notes before I leave you all until the next chapter: I love Shmi, and I hope I captured her character and thoughts correctly in this chapter. You really have to respect her for raising her son by herself in slavery, letting him go at nine/ten years old despite the pain it caused, and then lasting against torture from Sand People for months.
And Anakin's thoughts on droid colors? Those were inspired by my own. I've never heard of protocol droids being other colors beside gold and silver. But I made up the bit about the metal plates for protocol droids being treated for extreme weather conditions; I don't know if it's true, though it made the most sense to me.
Anakin's distaste for silver and green? Carried over from being Harry; Lily's and his eyes were green but so is the Killing Curse, but he was meant to go in Slytherin House before he changed the Sorting Hats' mind, so he'd have mixed feelings about that color, and the same for red. His House colors include red, the Weasleys all have red hair, but Voldemort has crimson eyes, too. The blue I was going for was Tardis blue. Orange was a refernce to the Chudley Cannons and brown to the ugly sweater Harry shrunk before coming to Hogwarts.
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