Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.

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Holocron

III

Tuesday, June 13, 1989

Petunia Dursley stood outside and marveled at her beautiful lawn and garden. The grass was dark green and thick. The hedges were perfectly trimmed and shaped. Not a single weed was to be seen anywhere. And her rose bushes… so lush, and seemingly bursting with beautiful flowers. She was the envy of the entire neighborhood.

And it was all spoiled because she knew it was due to the boy's ever-growing freakishness!

He was perfectly polite, always calm, even when Vernon was flying into one of his rages. He was diligent in his care for his chores, even if he somehow managed to finish them in no time at all.

She could barely stand him.

He had somehow managed to taint even her ability to enjoy her garden. Couldn't the little freak just leave her in peace? She quietly cursed the day that her sister—

Petunia quickly averted her thoughts from that direction. No need to dredge up old miseries.

"Aunt Petunia?"

She cringed as the boy's voice reached her.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to ask you about, well, about my… cupboard…"

"You're lucky we let you sleep under our roof at all, you little freak!" She growled as she spun to look at him. She was about to continue laying into him, but was caught off guard by the intensity she saw in his striking, green eyes. Suddenly she felt unsure of herself and more than a little confused.

"Aren't I a bit old to be sleeping in such a small space?"

Petunia blinked at him. What was he trying to do, patronize her?

"Of course you're too old to be sleeping in a cupboard! What kind of question is that?"

The boy kept his unblinking gaze locked onto her as he spoke again.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you if I had my own, proper bedroom?"

Petunia quickly shook her head. Why was the boy asking such obvious questions?

"Of course it would be easier for me if you had your own room! Go clean out Dudley's second bedroom right this minute! I want that room clean as a whistle before you even think about starting on dinner!"

Her nephew nodded at her.

"Whatever you say, Aunt Petunia."

"Don't just stand there gawking, boy. Get to it!"

She watched as he scampered into the house to do as he was told. Vernon and Dudley wouldn't like it very much, but the freak having his own room really would be much easier for her. Maybe it would help keep his unnaturalness contained…

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Saturday, April 28, 1990

Piers fought down his sense of dread as he looked at the pile on the ground in front of him. He shared a nervous glance with Malcom and Gordon before turning his attention back to Dudley.

"Right," Dudley said, "this should be enough to finally let us get the freak."

"Umm…" Malcom started, "you sure about this, Dud? Wouldn't it be easier if we just… well… left him alone?"

"Left him alone?!" Dudley cried. "You can't be serious!"

Malcom quickly tried to backpedal.

"I mean… it's just… we never get one over on him! And you've seen what he can do! There's a reason not even the teachers want anything to do with him."

"My mum says he's cursed," Gordon added. "A devil's child."

"All the more reason for us to hit him hard!" Dudley argued.

"I don't know, Dud…" Malcom wavered.

"Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out, Malcom. Or maybe I should start calling you Nancy."

"Piss off, you wanker! I'm no Nancy boy!"

"That means you're in then."

"Fine!"

"Right," Dudley brought their attention back to the pile before them. "We've got four slingshots, one for each of us, plenty of stones. Wear the cricket helmets and stuff one of the pillows up your shirt for when he starts hittin' 'em back at us."

"I nicked these from my dad's woodshop," Gordon added as he dropped four sets of protective goggles on the pile. "Don't wanna lose an eye…"

"Good thinking," Dudley continued. "Now here's the plan. We gear up, and sneak up on him in the park. But don't get too close. When I give the signal, we all shoot at the same time, and then keep shooting until you run out of rocks. Then we book it back here afterwards."

Piers didn't really like the so-called plan. Potter had just gotten weirder and weirder over the years, and Dudley kept on insisting that they mess with him. He just knew that this was going to end badly.

"Ready?" Dudley asked.

"Ready," Gordon and Malcom responded.

Piers hesitantly nodded his head.

They quickly grabbed their stuff and made off for their target.

They found Potter on the far side of the park in a field that saw little real use. It was too small for footie or cricket, and the playground equipment was on the other side of the little stream. Besides, everyone in town knew that the freak liked to spend his time there dancing and swinging his staff around, or sitting on the ground talking to himself, and no one wanted to be around the strange kid.

Potter was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him, his staff resting across his knees. His eyes were closed, which let the gang sneak up on him unseen.

Piers glanced at Dudley once they were in position before readying his slingshot. His heart was pounding in his chest as the familiar knot of fear twisted in his guts. This was a bad idea…

"NOW!" Dudley shouted.

Before they could get their first shots off, Potter had already rolled backwards and pushed off the ground with his hands, vaulting his body into the air. He gracefully rotated around in midair before landing on his feet, the wooden staff already a blur of motion.

The first volley of stones raced toward him. Potter merely stepped away from two of them, and the others were met by the staff and sent rebounding off in opposite directions.

Piers readied another stone and fired again as quickly as he could. It was difficult to aim with Potter moving so fast.

They kept up their hail of stones for several minutes and an uneven staccato rhythm of sharp cracks filled the air as Potter effortlessly defended himself.

"Spread out!" Dudley eventually shouted. "Hit him from the sides! Let's see him beat that!"

They did as they were told, spreading out while trying to keep up their rate of fire. It seemed like it might be successful as Potter looked like he was working harder than ever before.

Piers jerked back in surprise as something whistled through the air and bounced off his helmet. He shook off his fear and fired again, only to be struck in the chest an instant later. Potter wasn't playing around. He was now sending almost every stone right back at them.

He shot again and then winced in pain as his next pebble came back to strike him in his unprotected shoulder.

"Get closer!" Dudley yelled.

Piers took careful aim as he dragged his feet closer to the freak. He could see sweat pouring down the other boy's face as he continued to dodge and slash out with his staff. His movements seemed a little less graceful now, a little sloppier. He was getting tired.

He let his stone fly and watched as it slipped past Potter's defenses. The dark-haired boy winced as it struck him in the side, but he kept fighting.

But the attackers were too close, and they'd all just seen that their target wasn't invincible after all. Another stone hit Potter in the knee and made him stumble. A third struck his hand and he cried out as he dropped the staff.

"We've got you now, FREAK!" Dudley yelled in triumph.

Piers watched as Potter dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. He sprang up to his knees and then thrust both his hands forward.

And then Piers felt something big smash into his chest and lift him off his feet. He watched the sky and the ground spin around before his eyes. And then he slammed down into the ground.

He groaned at the ache in his chest and felt his eyes water from the sharp pain that was lancing up through his leg from a twisted ankle. He quickly looked around and saw that all three of his friends were sprawled out on the ground just like he was.

Malcom quickly curled up into a ball and started openly crying with loud wails.

Dudley was slowly trying to pick himself up, but kept stumbling and falling.

Gordon was scrambling away on all fours.

Piers turned his head and locked gazes with Potter. The staff was back in his hands, held by one end in readiness before him. Sweat ran down his face and dripped off his chin. His mouth was set in a thin line. Piers looked into green eyes and felt the knot of fear in his stomach explode.

He scrambled to his feet and ran away as fast as his sprained ankle would let him.

Screw Dudley! he thought as he ran. I've got better things to do than mess with a kid that can do THAT!

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Harry paused outside the front door of Number Four, Privet Drive. He closed his eyes and reached out into the Force. He felt his aunt in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of dinner. His uncle was in the living room watching the telly. Dudley was nowhere near.

He quietly slipped into the house and sent a soft nudge of the Force into the far corner of the living room to keep his uncle distracted. A burst of energy brought him to the top of the stairs and he quickly shut himself inside his room. Only then did he let out his nervous breath.

Dudley's ambushes, while infrequent, had steadily grown bolder over the past two years. Fending off all four of them, armed as they were with slingshots and protective gear had been hard, but also exhilarating. He had never felt as close to the living Force as he had that afternoon, spinning and dodging, striking out with the staff, his every movement obedient to the Energy that flowed through him. It had been like he was truly one with the Force.

At least until his concentration slipped and Piers hit him in the side.

Harry rubbed the bruise on his sore ribs as he leaned the wooden broom handle that he used for practice into the corner. His bleeding knuckles also hurt, but he paid them little mind as he knew nothing was broken.

His mind went back to the ambush. Moving like that… the Force had felt so alive. And powerful. When he had realized he was in trouble and had pushed out against his attackers… He'd never felt anything like that before.

And his powers were still developing, still growing. Master Isu said so.

He was giddy thinking about what he might eventually be able to do if he kept this up. Dudley would never be a problem for him again.

He sat down on the bed with his legs folded beneath him. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before stretching out with his senses. He kept part of his awareness on his relatives as they went about their boring routines, just in case they decided to bother him, but focused on the loose floorboard under the window.

Slowly, under Harry's careful guidance, it popped up from the floor, and floated away, beginning to orbit around him in a lazy circle. Blue light poured out from the opening a moment before the Holocron rose into the room.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he fought to maintain his concentration. Moving more than one object at a time was difficult, but he knew that the only way to get better was through practice.

Wisps of fog trailed behind the cube as it came to a rest floating in front of Harry's face, and then the holographic figure winked into existence. He opened his eyes and greeted the image.

"Master Isu."

Young Harry. How goes your training?

"I had quite the day today."

Oh really? Tell me what you experienced.

He spent the next several minutes recounting each and every moment of the ambush that his cousin had sprung upon him. He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face as he related what it felt like to flow with the Force as he used the patterns of his familiar kata to defend himself. He related how his focus had slipped, and that he was pelted with three stones and even dropped his staff. But he laughed at what came next.

"You should have seen it! I pushed the Force at them, any they all flew through the air like they were nothing. The babies ran away crying!"

You were right to defend yourself, but you must not take such glee in defeating your opponents. That path leads to the dark side.

"Oh come on! I'm not allowed to have a bit of fun while I send my bully of a cousin running?"

Fun is well and good, but a Jedi should find little enjoyment in the necessity of violence. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never to attack. To find amusement in fighting, and to hold onto and to savor that feeling, is to start along the road of looking for violence. From there it is but a short path to the dark side and destruction.

"I don't understand. What's the dark side?"

Fear, anger, aggression, and hatred - when they are embraced they lead to the corruption of the dark side of the Force. It seduces with temptations of power easily gained and frightfully wielded. But it brings with it decay of both the body and the soul, and leaves nothing but suffering in its wake. A Jedi must always be wary of temptations to the dark side, temptations to the quick and easy path that leads to naught but sorrow and misery.

"That doesn't sound good."

Indeed it does not. That is why you have been taught to release your negative emotions, your anger and fear and the like, into the Force. That they might not fester within you and seduce you to your destruction and the destruction of all those around you.

"Oh."

So too you must rid yourself of the joy you find in defeating an enemy. Violence is often unavoidable, but to find pleasure therein is forbidden to you. It is in little things, such as this, that the seduction of the dark side begins.

Now, release those feelings into the Force and be free of their temptation.

Harry breathed out slowly and called upon the now familiar state of mind. He gathered up the feelings of joy and pleasure that he felt at defeating Dudley, at striking back at his cousin's gang with their own weapons, at lashing out with the Force and putting them down and out of the fight. He held those feelings in the forefront of his mind, and then he invited the Force to flow through him more fully. It was like a river with a strong and steady current. It was always present, but now simply more so. He released his hold on the unwanted feelings as he had been taught, and felt them slip away into the stream until they were borne away and were no more.

He opened his eyes and looked at the tiny image of Master Isu.

"It's done."

Good. Today you have triumphed over your first temptation to the dark side. But do not rejoice, for more shall surely come. You must be ever vigilant. A Jedi's most important task is to know himself above all. You must know your weaknesses and temptations that you might not be seduced to your own destruction and to the suffering of many.

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AN: What do you think?

Thanks for your reviews. And thanks for reading!