Harry Potter stared glumly at the locked door and the bars on his windows. It was that mad creature's fault that it was like this. Before the lunatic Dobby had shown up, he was allowed outside to do chores and stuff, but now he was kept in the room almost the entire day with small amounts of food shoved through the cat flap that had been recently installed every now and then when his Aunt and Uncle remembered him (unbeknownst to Harry, the food had been given to him by Dudley, his Aunt and Uncle had quite forgotten that the "Freak" actually needed to be fed).

When one's life was crap, even the least thing that brought one joy was to be treasured, and he'd learned to appreciate the outside world long ago during the dark days when the Cupboard under the stairs was his home. Now, that beautiful world beyond the walls of the Dursley residence was closed off from him, and he was trapped in here because some creature who had worshiped him had gotten him in trouble in a misguided attempt at protecting him.

For the tenth time that day, Harry was musing on exactly how horrible his life was.

Suddenly, his brooding over his situation was interrupted when a rather ancient looking creature who was similar in appearance to the one that had gotten him into his current predicament popped into the room holding the hand of a boy that looked to be about nine or ten years old with curly black hair, black eyes, tanned skin and a look on his face that was oddly reminiscent of Professor Snape.

"To place you here, the Force has guided me. Leave you here, I will." the creature said to the boy before vanishing with a pop.

The boy stared at him for a moment, then began to take in his surroundings. The expression on his face grew even darker when he noticed the bars on the windows. Then, much to his surprise, the boy walked to the door, smacked into it, and fell backwards landing on his ass. For several minutes, the boy sat there muttering under his breath before getting up and walking over to the broken desk chair and sitting down. Once he did, he began to look at himself as if he hadn't seen himself before. Upon finishing his inspection, the boy darkly muttered several words in a language he didn't recognize. Vernon would notice the boy very soon if he didn't keep quiet, and when that happened, all hell would break loose.

Worship him, the "Great Harry Potter"? Yeah right. Pull the other one, it's got bells on. Those damnable pointy-earred creatures were apparently out to make his life a living hell.

={&*&}=

Boba Fett had taken a few moments to orient himself to the place the Jedi Master Yoda had dropped him off at, before vanishing after making a claim that the Force had led him there. In front of him was a human boy no more than ten years of age. He should've expected it, considering the fact that Humans were like sand on Tatooine, they got everywhere, even Yoda's mysterious homeworld apparently.

The child on the bed was clearly in pretty bad shape. Nowhere near the worst shape he'd seen a child in, but obviously in rather poor shape nonetheless. His apparent social status, based on his appearance, was somewhere that was maybe a step or two above "gutter brat". The bed the child was on was in bad shape as well, no more than a rude cot, but it was a bed. The rest of the furniture the room contained was all battered if not outright broken.

Based on the furniture and the boy's clothes, the child and his family lived well below the standard poverty line, and wouldn't have the resources for an extra mouth to feed. The bars on the window told him that the place he was in was probably at constant risk of attack, marking the world he was on as a potential trouble hotspot which would add to his problems when he left because he didn't have anything on him or to his name at the moment except for the clothes on his back. In some places, people would kill you for even that. Hopefully this wasn't one of those places.

He headed to the door, prepared to leave before the family found him and felt any obligation towards taking him in feeding him as Beviin's family had done nearly forty years before, even though he hadn't really needed it at the time. The door didn't open. He ended up smacking his head painfully on what felt like a wooden plank and falling awkwardly to the floor, which was something he hadn't done in years. He cursed his pain, the situation he was in, and most of all, the Jedi who landed him in it.

Something about his relative position to everything else in the room including the boy finally caught his attention, though he should have noticed it much earlier. He walked across the room to the chair by the desk to sit down and contemplate his situation rather than immediately making another attempt at departure, since the boy on the bed apparently wasn't a threat and hadn't asked him to leave yet. It was as he sat down that he got a good look at himself, and found himself both shocked and dismayed. He looked much like he had as a child, right down to the clothes he wore when he had lived in Tipoca city. He began using every swear word he knew. Whoever took him in wouldn't be caring for a frail old man in his waning days who would be playing the role of grandfather to their clan. Barring illness or injury, he would live another century or more, growing up and old as he had the first time around while he waited to return to his father once more.

The fearful look on the green eyed boy's face as he made his displeasure at his situation known to the universe at large seemed ominous. Moments later he learned why. Loud thunderous footsteps followed an angry yell as something massive approached. The boy who had been pretty much cowering on the bed since he'd arrived sprang into action, grabbing him and shoving him into the broken cabinet that contained the rest of the boy's ragged clothes. Peering through the door, he watched as a large, rather well fed, and well dressed man yelled at the boy who had hidden him before slamming the apparently rather anciently styled door shut in his face and lumbering away. The situation was now obvious. The family he had found himself with wasn't poor, the child in front of him had been abused; quite possibly for a very long time, and may have been a slave despite the fact that he called the large man "Uncle".

If this was the closest thing that this world had to a Mandalorian family, he didn't want to meet the rest of its inhabitants. This world was obviously one upon which the use of a Death Star would be greatly appreciated and possibly celebrated. What would one actually expect from the world that had produced the Grand Master of the thrice cursed Jedi Order? A real Mandalorian would've put a blaster bolt between that fat creature's eyes and adopted the child that was now staring at him long ago.

Damn. It seemed that his chance at playing happy families was to adopt the child in front of him while he himself was in the body of a child. Things couldn't be weirder for him if it suddenly started raining lightsabers. Best to find a way to escape this hellhole, get to the nearest spaceport and blast off this rock as soon as possible with the boy in tow.

Edited 2-20-12