Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Star WarsA/N: Hello! I am back, with another fun chapter.So, I have realised I have a problem with writing Harry Potter fanfiction. I then found the reason: writing the same lessons over and over again! As such, from now on, all HP first I make are set outside of lessons, like this one - set in a war torn Hogwarts in his seventh year (or what would have been his seventh year)BTW, this is set during the clone Wars for Star wars.Don't worry, I am still updating Potter-Malfoy and Tournament.Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 2: World on Fire
Hermione stood at the top of the astronomy tower, staring grimly over the surrounding area.
It was her final year at Hogwarts, but never would she have believed this was how it would end. She had had a miserable time at Hogwarts, as the nerdy girl in Gryffindor, her only friend was a quiet boy who was as desperate for friends as she was. She turned to her books, her grades, anything to make her feel whole. But she didn't.
And then came the war. It began in fifth year, with the death of her friend: Neville Longbottom. Turned out that there was a prophecy that could have applied to two boys, and that one of them was prophesied to kill a Dark Lord - a terrorist called Lord Voldemort. Unfortunately for Britain, no-one had seen the other boy, only known as 'The Boy-who-vanished' since the day his parents died.
At the end of her fifth year, servants of Voldemort had broken into the school and kidnapped the boy, killing him in a gory ritual that resurrected their master. With that, the reign of terror began.
Throughout the sixth year, both muggle and magical Britain was plagued by terrorist attacks, with thousands of casualties. At the end of the year, he made his big power play, and invaded Hogwarts, where Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever exist, lived.
What came next was a duel that would live on in the minds of all those who watched. A three hour display of daring and danger, a lightshow of energy batted back and forth by the two sorcerers. At last, Dumbledore struck with a fatal blow, and Voldemort fell back, dead.
There was much celebration, for the war was surely over. Dumbledore turned to face the school, preparing to give a glorious speech. He never made it.
A green burst enveloped him, and Voldemort was once more on his feet. It was then that the world discovered his immortality.
Throughout the seventh year, they had managed to hold fort, led by the new Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Among the students, Hermione of all people, the Head Girl, became the leader of the anti-Voldemort students, against the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater.
Duels flooded the halls, and lessons ended before they began. It was no longer a school. It was a battleground. She had used her intellect and magical ability to stay on top, but it was close. A third of the school, centred around the Slytherin Dorm, was completely dominated by the dark.
Two months ago, the siege began. A hoard of Death Eaters took up camp at the walls of Hogwarts, and began a deadly barrage of explosives. Towers fell and walls crumbled as the dark influence spread, a poison making its way through the veins of the mighty castle. Only one tower remained, the once glorious Astronomy Tower, the tower on which Hermione watched the world on fire.
The Great Hall had collapsed, and few outer walls remained. Most roofs were constantly burning, and camps of sorcerers in black robes dotted the complex. Where once a glorious landscape lay, now was a pitted expanse of fire and ash.
'Hermione!' a boy called out, running up the stairs. Great. Ronald. 'He's here.'
Hermione froze. That could be one of two people, and she wasn't feeling hopeful. 'Voldemort?' she whispered.
Ron nodded mournfully. 'And he's asking for you.'
Hermione stood up straighter, calming her nerves. 'Right. Gather the army. We finish this today. Remember, prioritise his capture.'
Ron gave a salute, and ran down to rally the troops. He was a jerk, in truth, but a skilled combat mage, and thus invaluable.
As she descended down the stairs, she thought about all the deaths. Flitwick. Lupin. Sprout. Lavender. Fleur. Susan. Parvati. Cho. Cedric. And… Neville. She steeled herself, and stepped out to the ruined courtyard, the crowd of survivors parting to allow her to meet the dark tyrant himself.
He stood there, pale and snakelike, flanked by a mass of his greatest followers. Dolohov. Lestrange. Crouch. The Malfoys. Crabbe. Goyle. Rookwood.
'He he he,' he laughed softly, sending shivers down the rebels' spines. 'You still believe you can oppose me! I cannot die, you ignorant fools.'
Hermione snarled, brandishing her wand. 'We will find a way, Riddle. No-one is truly immortal.'
Voldemort glared at her, the symbol of all he opposed. 'You won't live to see the day. Bombarda! Diffindo! Cruu-ucio!'
Hermione leapt through the air, batting the spells away. 'Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Incarcerous!'
Voldemort flicked his wand lazily, and a pillar of stone rose up, absorbing the spells.
'You think those pitiful spells will stop me? Crucio! Bombarda! AVADA KEDAVRA!'
Hermione ducked down, sliding under the deadly cursing, before firing a Bombarda of her own.
Voldemort snarled, before he gripped his wand with both hands. 'SAKTHALI!' From its end, a wave of energy expanded, knocking all without a Dark Mark to their knees, paralysed.
'Ooh, pretty!' the sadistic voice of Bellatrix Lestrange cackled. But nobody responded. Why?
In her peripheral vision, Hermione could see them looking up, with their mouths hanging open. If only she could move her head!
'What… what is that?' Voldemort gasped, sounding unsure for the first time.
With a grunt of frustration, Hermione managed to tumble over, still paralysed, but facing the sky. And what she saw took her breath away.
Hanging in the sky was a burning hulk. It was unlike anything they had ever seen. Even for wizards, it defied the laws of physics.
It was a triangular thing, painted in white and red, with two prongs sticking out of the top, one shorter and burning. Out its back were three great balls of blue fire, and along its sides were great walls of blue energy. Dashing around it were small specks, and small sparks of energy were exchanged between the large one and the small ones, and from small ones to other ones. When the energy hit the specks, they burst into flames and disappeared, and if they hit the large one, another fire started up, and chunks of it collapsed.
From the top of the thing, small ones flew out, spinning towards other ones, with a few suddenly vanishing. It was… unreal. Hermione stared. Were they… spaceships? Like Asimov? But they couldn't be real… so why did they have a nagging familiarity.
Voldemort stood there, transfixed. 'Send men up on brooms!' he snarled. Crabbe and Goyle did so, returning moments later.
'S'no good sir,' one said. 'S'too high up!'
He snarled again, but decided to ignore the impossible thing. And that was when it exploded.
The large vessel was enveloped in a great ball of fire, incinerating it completely. The ball expanded, and most of the small balls were caught up too. A few remained, and began to grow. That was when Hermione realised they weren't growing. They were falling.
As they grew nearer, she could make out the shapes of the ten ships, falling listlessly, no longer moving off of their own volition. Five of the ships were larger, great ships shaped like semicircles, with a small shuttle in the centre. Another was slightly smaller, and looked reminiscent of some sort of drop shuttle. The final four were… familiar, but slightly… wrong? As if she knew how they should look, but they didn't look like that.
They were triangular ships, with a bulbous glass cockpit. They had two exhausts at the back, and small sockets at the front, holding spinning domes. They were sharper than she thought they should be, and slightly smaller. One was golden, another red, another purple, and the final a pale green.
The five larger ones suddenly burst into life, and rocketed off into the distance, settling down in the mountains. The others continued on their courses, plowing through the astronomy tower and embedding themselves at the edges of the courtyard.
The spell was wearing off, and Hermione staggered to her feet, staring at the ships. There was a hiss, and the large one opened up, revealing men in strange armour, wielding strange guns.
Their armour was bulky and made of metal, with a helmet that had a thin, T-shaped visor. It was painted in reds and blacks, and had small, ornamental horns on the top. In their hands were bulky, black guns with large barrels and now obvious ammo slots. Upon their backs were strange, mechanical backpacks, with a large spike in their centre.
Six of these strange men came out, holding their weapons defensively, before they formed a sort of defensive ring around their vessel. Then came another man, vastly different, clearly the leader.
Whereas the soldiers were stylised in red and black with horns, the man that came out seemed to be covered in elaborate red and black tattoos, with horns surgically implanted into his head. He was a tall, thin man, in a sort of black robe, cut off at the waist and held up by a belt, a belt that held a couple of strange silver cylinders. From the waist down was even stranger - his legs seemed to be the most advanced prosthetics ever, robotic even.
His eyes were a sickly yellow as he surveyed the area, before he let out a soft chuckle. 'Darkness,' he said. 'Always so dramatic. You, snake face! You are clearly the Dark Lord here, else you would not have tortured your face.'
Voldemort snorted. 'You're one to talk, devil face.'
The man raised an eyebrow - or at least, the skin where his eyebrow should be - and chuckled once more. 'Oh no, puny human, this is my face. Completely natural. Now, what are your aims?'
'Freedom!' Voldemort snarled. 'Freedom to rule the country.'
The man sighed. 'How… pathetic. But, one must make do with what he is given. I am Maul, and these are my followers, the Mandalorians. We offer you our aid, in return that you use your… abilities to rid us of our opponents.'
Voldemort snarled. 'And why should I trust you?'
Maul laughed. 'You shouldn't, but my enemies are now your enemies.' There was a snapping sound, and a thin beam of blue light burst from one of the ships, cutting a ring. 'And here they come now.'
The half-molten circle of metal flew off, slamming into the floor, and a figure leapt out of the hole, flipping into a crouched position, holding a strange cylinder, with a strange glowing blue blade. He was, unlike Maul, human, and looked around her age. He wore tan robes, with a thick belt around the waist - upon which was a second cylinder - and thick leather boots. His hair was black, long and unruly, and his eyes were a startling, somehow familiar green, filled with a mixture of mirth and anger.
Pulling the other cylinder off of his waist, there was another snapping sound, and a green blade sprung from the end of it. 'How about we try that again.'
Maul snarled at him, pulling out his own pair, one red and the other a pitch black, rimmed in a white light.
The boy slowly walked forwards, spinning his blades in his hands, carving black trenches in the ground. Maul lunged forward, and the two were locked together, blades of light pressing against each other.
They danced around the courtyard, blades blazing with light, swinging down at each other, each expertly parrying the other. The boy crossed his blades and pushed out, and, as if struck by an invisible force, Maul was thrown backwards, slamming into the ground.
He looked up, yellow eyes filled with rage. 'Alotas!' he barked. 'Get your men on the ship and take off. I'll join you shortly.' The armoured men nodded, and rushed back inside, where the engines began to whir, preparing to take off.
In the chaos, Voldemort and his troops began to retreat, but nobody stopped them, all held transfixed by the duel.
The demonic man turned back to face the robed boy, quivering with rage. He gave a frenzied snarl, and least forward, sacrificing technique for strength. The boy kicked him flat in the chest, causing him to stumbled backwards, and used the time to connect the two cylinders, creating a double bladed weapon.
He too now changed his technique. Where before her had been striking quickly with precise slashes, he now spun around, blades rotating around him, blocking the attacks with slower, defensive spins.
The two men were clearly experienced dwellers, adapting to the others forms. They danced back and forward across the courtyard, neither landing a blow upon their opponent.
By this point, the ship's exhausts had begun to glow, before the entire hulk of metal began to rise up. The landing legs tucked in, and a small door slid open, where one of the soldiers pay, gun pointed at the arena.
The soldier began to fire, scarlet bolts of energy flying at the boy. This, however, didn't seem to faze him, simply deflecting each shot with his swirling blades.
Maul snarled at the boy, pushing him backwards. He was clearly on the back foot, unable to find a break in the demon's frenzied slices.
'You think you can best me, boy?' Maul taunted. 'I am your superior! You cannot beat me!'
The boy stared at him. 'Oh, I know. You killed Master Jinn. But there is something you have forgotten.'
Maul snarled. 'What?'
The boy smirked. 'I only need to stall you.'
At that moment, there were several more snapping sounds as three more men joined the fight, two older and one about the same age, all wielding a single blue blade.
Maul glared at them, before bellowing with rage. He leapt backwards, turning off his weapons, before pushing his arms out. There was a cacophony off sounds as tiles ripped off of the ground, catching the three newcomers unawares. He leapt up to the ship, door closing behind him, before the ship flew off, disappearing into the mountains.
The boy stared at the fleeing vessel, before deactivating his blades with a snap, and separating them into individual cylinders. He ran over to the other men, checking their pulses, before sighing in relief. He stood up, turning to face the crowd.
'Sorry about that,' he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Republic business. Anything I can do to help with the cleanup just ask. I'm sure my friends will agree.' He frowned. 'Hang on, did we do all this?'
Gathering her confidence, Hermione stood forward. 'Who… who are you?'
The boy raised an eyebrow. 'You haven't heard of me? I'm Hadrian Potter, Jedi Knight.'
A/N: How was that? Let me know in a review - especially for the fight scene (my first proper one).Also, please check out some of my other fics.See you next month, on the 22nd of November! By-ye!