A/N: First: For those you saw the ships and got weird out that Harry will be dating Gabrielle (who is eight or nine years old during Goblet of Fire) well worry not! In this fanfiction, Gabrielle Delacour will be the same age as Harry, so fourteen-year-old, give or take a few months. ;)

Second, this fic is my own version/interpretation of Blades of Light by Midnighter 13 (Fic ID: 6502362). I first read that story a long time ago and felt like there was a great potential in it. Unfortunately, the story progress way too quickly and bashes a lot Dumbledore and Ron. Also, Harry is very childish in the fanfic, constantly calling people he doesn't like by stupid names.

For this fic, I decided to inspire myself from Midnighter 13's work BUT also changed a lot from it. For instance, this fic will not have any Ron or Dumbledore bashing. In fact, Ron will be an ever better person than in canon. Also, there will be a lot more "Jedi" than simply Harry, Hermione and the champions. And, most importantely, this fic will go into greater details have be slower paced. It might still be relatively fast but far from how quick Blades of Light was.


Original Artwork by Allister-Vinris. Found on DeviantArt.


Somewhere in the middle of England, miles away from London, a bright red steam locomotive was travelling south, pulling multiple carriages filled with groups of children, teenagers and young adults with it. The groups were composed of students who had just ended their school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school of magic.

In one of those carriages were three friends: A red-head boy, a girl with brown, curly hair and a boy with round spectacles. The red-head boy, Ronald Weasley, was currently attempting to talk about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup with his two friends. To his dismay, neither of them were very enthusiastic.

While it was normal behaviour for the girl, Hermione Granger, the lack of enthusiast from the third friend was surprising and concerning. Harry Potter only listened half-heartedly to what his friend Ron was saying, something both he and Hermione noticed. They shared a look, concerned about their best friend.

You see, Harry was brooding. While this in itself was nothing new, – Harry had a habit of sulking in his corner from time to time – his lack of enthusiast at a subject that usually greatly entertained him was due to what had happened only days before.

The truth was that Harry was currently thinking about his last three years at Hogwarts, more specifically the moments where he and his friends had been in danger. In his first year, Harry had been in danger a number of times. The moments that really stood out for him were, first, on Halloween when he, Ron and Hermione had fought a troll that had caused havoc in the castle. Then, at the end of the year, first when he had ended-up face to face with the spirit of Voldemort while it was drinking unicorn blood in the Forbidden Forest, second when he confronted Professor Quirrell and Voldemort while the duo was attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone.

In his second year, the most 'memorable' moments where Harry's life had been in danger was when he and Ron had confronted the Acromantula Aragog and its colony in the Forbidden Forest. The second moment had been a few days before the end of the school year in the middle of the Chamber of Secret. Harry had been forced to fight and kill a giant Basilisk to protect Ginny Weasley and himself from the spirit of the teenage Tom Riddle, who later became Lord Voldemort.

His third year was not much different, at least in term of dangers. Unlike the two previous years, the dangers he faced hadn't been because of Voldemort, but because of the Ministry of Magic, who was trying to catch Sirius Black, Harry's innocent godfather. As it became the norm, Harry ended up in danger multiple times. Excluding when he had ended-up face to face with a transformed Remus Lupin, every time Harry had been in danger was because of the Dementors, foul beasts that could suck people's souls out of their mouths. Harry, Hermione and Sirius had nearly been all kissed only a few days earlier, and had only been saved thanks to the intervention of Harry's future self, who had travelled back in time with Hermione to save the lives of Sirius and Buckbeak the Hippogriff.

However, the moment that stood the most for Harry was one where, ironically enough, he hadn't been in danger at all. He remembered when he had first laid eyes on his godfather. The moment he and Hermione had entered the room, Sirius had immediately disarmed them, rendering them as dangerous as small puppies. The only reason Harry had been able to lunge himself at Sirius and hit him was because Sirius hadn't meant him any harm. Harry held no illusions that if the rumours about Sirius were true, and that Sirius had truly been a mass-murderer and supporter of Lord Voldemort, Harry wouldn't have been able to approach him without being killed. This was the moment he was thinking about the most. One disarming charm and he would be toasted.

Thinking about all the times he had been in danger or been in near-death experiences was the reason Harry wasn't in a happy mood. The thirteen years-old boy was getting tired of being in near-death situations. Too often he had to rely on luck as he simply didn't know enough spells to protect himself. Then again, spells wouldn't have always been helpful. The Basilisk was a perfect example of that. No matter how much magic he would had learned, Harry doubted he would have been able to make a dent in the strong skin of the kings of serpents. He had been very lucky that he had been able to withdraw the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat. Without it, twelve-years-old Harry would have stood no chances of killing the Basilisk. Harry wished he could have had the Sword of Gryffindor way sooner. It would certainly have been useful against Quirrell, Aragog or the troll. The Sword might even had been useful against the Dementors!

That line of thinking made Harry realise something. Most often than not, Harry hadn't used magic to defeat his foes. Excluding the Dementors, he had never really used any powerful magic when he had been in danger, which was a problem. Unfortunately, magic wasn't easy to learn, which was why schools of magic existed. Harry would have to wait until he was older before he could really do impressive magic and hold himself in a fight. However, it was time Harry didn't have.

It had been three years since he had rejoined the magical world. It had been the third year in a row where Harry and his friends ended up in a fight against terrible creatures or evil people. Thinking back about all the times he had been in danger, Harry realised something.

He needed a powerful weapon, something he could use if he was unable to use his wand. No longer would he be defenceless with or without a wand! The weapon would need to be powerful enough to kill a Basilisk while also being easy to hide or, at worse, not stand out for everyone to figure out what it truly was. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't come up with anything that fit his requirements.

"Harry!"

Harry gave a start. "What?" he said, staring at his two best friends.

"We're talking..." began Hermione.

"Trying to talk." corrected Ron.

"Trying to talk to you!"

"Oh. What were you saying?" he said sheepishly.

"I was wondering what you were planning to do these next few days." she said.

"Uh, well, nothing, really." he said truthfully. "Why?"

"I was wondering if you and Ron were interested in coming to my house to watch some movies."

Harry blinked. That had been unexpected. "Really?" he asked. Hermione nodded. "Well, I would certainly be interested... wait." he suddenly said, looking at Ron. "Do you know what a movie is?"

Ron shrugged. "Hermione has been explaining it to me these last few minutes. It does sound interesting."

"Well, it would certainly be nice to be all together this summer. What movie do you have in mind?"

"Nothing in mind yet." she said. "We can always figure it out when we are there. We have plenty of VHS."


Two days later, Harry and Ron met each other in the Knight Bus while travelling to Hermione's house. Harry was greatly amused by how sick his friend looked while the Knight Bus was doing its usual dangerous drive.

Thankfully for the red-head, their journey quickly ended when the purple triple-decker stopped in front of a small, cozy house in Crawley.

"Never again..." muttered a green-faced Ron. "Never again..."

"You still have to go back home, mate." grinned Harry.

"Merlin, I'm going to be sick."

Snickering, Harry let Ron toward the door and pressed on the doorbell. They didn't have to wait long as the door quickly opened, revealing a beaming Hermione.

"You made it!" she said.

"Course we did!" said Ron, his face regaining its usual colour. "Doubted us?"

"Of course not! I knew you could both make it." she said.

"Well, will you invite us inside?" grinned Harry.

"Of course!" she said, opening the door fully and letting them walk inside.

Hermione first gave a small tour of her home to her best friends, before the trio settled in the living room, in front of the television. Once comfortable settled, the three friends began looking at what movie to watch. Hermione quickly realized that Ron wouldn't be the only one introduced to movies, as Harry had never really watched one before. Oh, he knew what movies were, and had often caught glimpses of them on the television at the Dursleys but he had never been allowed to watch one himself.

With this in mind, Hermione quickly made a choice for all three of them. She decided to start with a classic, one with a story of good and evil, with wizards and dark lords. Star Wars.

"I heard about that!" said Harry when Hermione made her suggestion. "Dudley kept talking about the movies when we were younger. It sometimes made me green with envy that I could never watch them!"

"Well, we're going to change that today!" she said.

So, Hermione, Ron and Harry watched Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. That had confused the two boys, until Hermione had explained the reason behind the name. Ron was fascinated by everything he was seeing. The fact that he could see a long, moving image with sound utterly fascinated him. For Harry, it was the story itself that caught on his interest. Harry quickly put himself in Luke Skywalker's shoes. In many ways, Harry could see his life in Luke's, just like there were as many differences.

Like Harry, Luke was an orphan living with his Aunt and Uncle. Like Harry, Luke's father had fought in a war, something their uncles hid from them, thought for different reasons. (Luke's uncle wanted to protect Luke while Harry's uncle's reasons were more nefarious.) Just like Harry's father, Luke's father was a good flyer. Just like Harry, Luke found someone who was best friends with his father, someone who could tell him about him.

It was while watching Obi-Wan reminisce about Luke's father that something caught Harry's attention.

"I have something here for you." said Obi-Wan, walking toward a small leather chest. Opening it, he grabbed something inside. "Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough... but, your uncle wouldn't allow it. He feared you might follow old Obi-Wan on some damn fool idealistic crusade, like your father did." Obi-Wan walked back toward Luke, a metallic cylinder in hands.

"What is it?" asked Luke, looking at the object with curiosity.

"Your father's lightsaber." answered Obi-Wan with a hint of reverence. He gave it to Luke. "This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster. An elegant weapon from a more... civilized age."

Luke pressed a button, and a long, blue blade of light appeared.

Ron looked amazed. Harry outright gasped, although for different reasons. As he looked at Luke swinging the lightsaber around, Harry's amazement grew and grew. He grinned.

"Hermione..." he whispered to himself, his eyes still fixed on the screen with rapt attention. "You're bloody brilliant..."


Harry stared at the blazing red eyes, who were staring back at him with anger. Harry detached his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. A bright blue blade of light emerged. Holding the lightsaber with a firm grip, Harry put himself in a defensive position.

In front of him, Lord Voldemort continued to stare at Harry. "It is useless to resist, Harry. Don't let yourself be killed like Dumbledore..." Harry didn't say anything and continued to stare at Voldemort, still holding his lightsaber. To Harry's surprise, Voldemort let out a sigh of resignation before taking out his own lightsaber with much more practised motion and lighting it up. A bright red blade emerged from the lightsaber. The colour was very similar to the man's eyes. Then, suddenly, the Dark Lord attacked. Harry brought up his lightsaber in time. Red and blue clashed, creating yellow sparks of light. Harry pushed the red blade back and made his own move to strike back. Voldemort easily blocked him before retaliating. He attacked once, then twice, three times, four times, five times! With every attack Voldemort made, the more aggressive he became and the harder it was for Harry to block. He had to hold a defensive position as he knew he would be killed otherwise.

The two fighters continued their elegant dance as they continuously attacked each other with their lightsabers. Unfortunately for Harry, it became obvious quite rapidly who was the better swordsman. Harry was getting tired and, just as he made a desperate strike to the side of Voldemort, the Dark Lord parried and brought his blade to Harry's right hand. He sliced it. Harry yelled in pain. His hand, still holding his lightsaber, flew only to fall in the bottomless pit at their feet. Harry held his stump, trying very hard not to sob.

"You cannot escape Lord Voldemort." said the Dark Lord with amusement. "I must admit, you are a good wizard, Harry, a wizard with good potential." Then, staring straight at Harry's green eyes, he said "Join me Harry and you will become a much more powerful wizard that you already are. Together, we can rule the entire world!"

Harry snarled "I'll never join you! You killed my parents!"

To Harry's disgust, Voldemort smiled, as if he thought what Harry had said was funny. "Dumbledore never told you what happened to your father...?"

"He didn't need to. Everyone know the truth. You killed him!"

"No... I am your father."

Harry looked at Voldemort with horror. It couldn't be! Voldemort, his father!? Yet, as Harry processed this statement, some part of him couldn't help but acknowledge it as true. Yet, he denied it. It just couldn't be. It was too horrible. "That's not true!" he cried. "That's impossible!"

"Search your feelings, you know it to be true."

And, as Voldemort told him that, Harry remembered that night. He remembered his crying mother who had pleaded to have him spared, even to the point of offering herself. Voldemort had killed his mother. It meant...

His mind became blank, filled with the horror of the truth. All he could do was scream in denial.

"NOOOOOOO!"

Harry jerked awake, his right hand immediately going to his rapidly beating heart. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was in his room in Privet Drive, and not in the confines of Cloud City on Bespin, facing Lord Voldemort. Harry let himself take a few deep breaths. "Just a nightmare, just a nightmare..." he told himself.

As he calmed down, he began thinking about his nightmare. It was obvious now that what he had dreamed of wasn't true. It was, after all, taken straight out of The Empire Strikes Back, which he and his friends had watched after the original Star Wars. At the time, both he and Ron had been rendered speechless by the revelation that Darth Vader was Luke's father. While watching the movie, the thought that his own Dark Lord could be his father James had crossed his mind but Harry had dismissed it, quickly realizing it didn't make sense. He hadn't believed for one moment that this stray thought would cause him to have a nightmare later that night.

As he lay in his bed, he quickly realized that he wouldn't be able to go to back to sleep anytime soon. So, Harry decided to do something somewhat productive instead. Leaving his bed, Harry walked a few steps to his desk before sitting on the chair. He took out a pen and a notepad before staring at it. What could he do with a notepad and a pen in the middle of the night?

As things usually were when he couldn't distract himself, his mind wandered back to his nightmare. Now that he was more awake, the nightmare was rather amusing, in hindsight. Now that he knew he had only imagined himself in Luke Skywalker's shoes, he was able to think back to it with a detached view. As he thought about it, he remembered fighting Voldemort with a lightsaber... and he immediately realised what he could do.

He could start his lightsaber project!

Harry grinned and began to write. The notepad on Harry's desk would become the first of many that would be filled to the brim with Harry's thoughts, ideas, plans and sketches for his project. He had a feeling it would take him quite some time to accomplish but, Harry had time to himself.

So, he worked...