Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own Harry Potter or Star Wars or their respective universes. Who knew.

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Harry stood alone in the spectral stillness of the train station, the air heavy with the weight of his decision. The vaulted ceiling above seemed to stretch into infinity, faint whispers echoing through the emptiness. The bench where he had sat with Dumbledore moments earlier—if moments even held meaning in this ghostly space—was now empty. Only the faint, fading impression of the old wizard's presence lingered, leaving Harry alone to grapple with his thoughts.

Dumbledore's words played over and over in his mind, their layered meanings teasing him like an unsolvable riddle. "You have a choice, Harry. The Hallows were never meant to be the end of your story. However, only you can decide what comes next."The warmth of Dumbledore's gaze had been both a comfort and a burden, as if the man had been annoyingly oblivious as to exactly how much weight he was leaving behind.

Harry took a deep breath, closing his eyes against the shimmering, unearthly glow of the station's surfaces. The idea of moving on—of letting go—was intoxicating in its simplicity. A place beyond pain, beyond fear, beyond the aching loss that had defined his life for so long. His parents would be there, and Sirius, and so many others he had loved and lost. The idea whispered to him, soft and seductive, like a lullaby for a tired soul.

But then came the images of what he would leave behind: the faces of Ron and Hermione, their expressions torn between determination and despair as they carried on without him. The terror in the eyes of the Hogwarts students as Voldemort's forces laid siege to the castle. The thought of Ginny ... her face rose unbidden in his mind, her laughter, her fierceness, and the quiet understanding she had always offered him. What would it mean to abandon them now? To leave Voldemort unchecked? Although the knowledge that they were aware of Voldemort's weakness and only one remained, gave him hope that even if he didn't come back they would prevail.

Harry clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He had spent years fighting, sacrificing, and losing. And yet, hadn't it been worth it? To protect others? To keep hope alive? His chest ached with the weight of indecision. Peace or purpose?

The silence of the station deepened, as if the very air waited for his choice. Slowly, deliberately, Harry opened his eyes, his resolve hardening—or perhaps softening—as his decision crystallized in his mind. He stood up and prepared to step forward, his mind made up as to his decision.

And then … the floor disappeared.

With a gut-wrenching lurch, Harry tumbled forward into the void, his stomach dropping as the world around him dissolved into chaos. There was no scream, no sound, and no deafening rush of wind in his ears. He flailed instinctively, grasping for anything to hold onto, but there was nothing—only emptiness.

The fall seemed endless. Time unraveled, twisting itself into an unending experience where seconds stretched into an eternity. Darkness enveloped him first, heavy and impenetrable, wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud. He blinked rapidly, but there was no difference between open and closed eyes. Just as his mind began to adjust to the void, light exploded around him, searing and overwhelming. It pierced through his eyelids, stabbing into his brain with merciless intensity. He turned his face away, but the brilliance was everywhere, relentless.

Then, through the chaos of darkness and blinding light, a flicker of something began to form in front of him.

Images sharpened, at first faint, then vivid. He saw Voldemort, his snake-like face cold and expressionless, standing at the forefront of a grim procession. Harry's broken body was carried by Hagrid, who was in turn followed by Death Eaters, their steps almost as happy as their master as they emerged from the Forbidden Forest.

The sight twisted something deep inside him, and he wanted to scream out. It was surreal to see himself so lifeless, his glasses askew, his arms limp. The triumphant expression on Voldemort's face as he declared his victory to the defenders at Hogwarts sent a wave of fury and helplessness through Harry.

The scene shifted. He saw Neville Longbottom, battered but unbroken, stepping forward with an expression of defiance etched onto his face. The courtyard fell silent as Neville's voice rang out, trembling at first, then growing steadier:

"We've lost friends, and we've suffered—but that doesn't mean we give up! Harry didn't give up and I won't either! This is our school, our home, and I'll die before I let him take it!"

For a moment, Harry thought Neville might fall silent as Voldemort's crimson gaze bore into him. But then something extraordinary happened. One by one, the defenders of Hogwarts began to step forward. An old Hufflepuff student shouted, "Neville's right!" Somewhere behind, Ginny's voice rang out, "For Harry!" A Gryffindor roared, "For Hogwarts!"

The collective bravery ignited a spark. As Voldemort raised his wand, the fighters surged forward, defiant and determined.

The battle resumed with renewed intensity, and Harry's perspective shifted rapidly among the chaos. He saw Ginny dueling fiercely, her red hair streaked with dust and sweat. He saw Professor McGonagall conjuring spells to shield students and hurling hexes with a ferocity Harry had never seen before.

Then the toll of war became evident. He saw Seamus fall under a curse, Dean rushing to drag him to safety. Lavender Brown was struck down by a Death Eater, her body lifeless on the battlefield. The losses were unbearable to witness, yet no one faltered.

The images turned to Neville once more, standing before Nagini. The snake was coiled, its massive form tense and ready to strike. Neville raised Gryffindor's sword, his face resolute. With a single, clean swing, the blade severed the snake's head.

The ground seemed to shift and suddenly he was looking at Voldemort. Harry watched as fear seeped into the Dark Lord's expression—a crack in his unshakable confidence.

Then came the final confrontation. Hermione, Ron, and Neville stood shoulder to shoulder, leading a band of allies as they faced Voldemort. Harry could feel the weight of the moment, the fury and unity that bound them together. Spell after spell flew, the air crackling with magic as their combined efforts overwhelmed the Dark Lord.

And then it was done. Voldemort fell, lifeless and defeated.

The images stopped abruptly, leaving Harry in the void once more. Darkness engulfed him, followed by the oppressive blaze of light. He tumbled on, disoriented and unable to process what he'd seen. Was it a vision of his panicked mind? Or perhaps, was this what really happened?

And so it continued. Dark, then light. Light, then dark. Each shift left him more disoriented than the last. His sense of self began to blur, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. Was this death? Was he being torn apart, atom by atom, in some cosmic punishment for his moment of indecision? He tried to grasp onto something—anything—that might anchor him, but there was nothing. Only the endless falling.

Just as he felt himself slipping into a void of nothingness, the descent stopped.

The shift was so abrupt that Harry collapsed and fell to his knees. He landed on something solid—solid but cold, like steel. He stayed there for several seconds, trembling, the echoes of the fall reverberating through his body. He opened his eyes cautiously, half-expecting to find himself back in the train station. Instead, he was in a small, dimly lit room.

The air here was different, dense with a faint metallic tang. The walls were made of polished metal, reflecting the dim glow of tiny, blinking lights embedded within them. Slowly making his way to his feet, Harry looked around, his breath hitching as he took in the clutter. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with strange, clinking objects—tools, containers, and devices whose purpose he couldn't begin to guess. The entire room hummed faintly, a low vibration that resonated through his bones.

He stumbled forward, the floor beneath him vibrating erratically. The turbulence threw him off balance, and he reached out, his hand brushing against a shelf. A stack of small, cylindrical objects toppled over with a loud clatter. The noise startled him, and he instinctively reached for his wand—only to realize, with a flood of relief, that it was still in his pocket. His fingers closed around it, and he exhaled shakily, feeling the familiar wood steady him.

"What is this place?" Harry muttered under his breath. His voice sounded small, swallowed up by the mechanical hum of the room.

Another jolt rocked the room, and Harry was flung sideways, slamming into a wall. A distant roar echoed through the space, like thunder muffled by layers of metal. He gritted his teeth and tried to stay upright, fumbling toward what looked like a door. It took him a moment to find the latch, a strange lever-like mechanism that clicked under his hand. The door hissed as it slid open, and Harry stepped out, breathing deeply as if he'd been released from a cage.

The corridor outside was no less alien. The walls were the same cold metal, and the floor was lined with what looked like grated steel panels. A faint, steady vibration pulsed through the structure, accompanied by distant mechanical whirs and beeps. Harry turned his head, listening. Somewhere ahead, he could hear muffled voices—though he couldn't make out the words.

He tightened his grip on his wand, moving cautiously toward the sounds. His heart pounded in his chest, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the strange acoustics of the corridor. The voices grew louder, more distinct, though they still carried an odd cadence, and he was certain he'd never heard them before.

Harry paused at an intersection, glancing both ways before choosing the path that seemed to lead toward the source of the voices. His mind raced with questions. Where was he? What had happened to the train station? To the fall? To his choice?

The corridor curved gently, and as Harry rounded the bend, the voices became clearer. He could make out the tones—one was gruff, another sharp and argumentative, and a third calm and commanding. None of them sounded remotely familiar, though there was a strange, primal quality to the gruff one that sent a shiver down his spine.

Harry hesitated, pressing himself against the wall. His instincts screamed at him to be cautious, but his curiosity burned just as fiercely. Taking a deep breath, he crept forward, his wand raised, ready for whatever might be waiting around the next corner.

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Moments Earlier

The Millennium Falcon shuddered as another piece of debris glanced off its deflector shields, the dull thudechoing through the ship. Luke Skywalker leaned over the back of Chewbacca's seat in the cockpit, watching as the smuggler and his co-pilot deftly navigated the freighter through the endless expanse of rock.

"This doesn't make any sense," Luke said, frowning. "How did you just happen to fly into a meteor shower or asteroid belt? I thought this was supposed to be the Alderaan system."

"It … is," Han said, his tone clipped as he focused on the controls. "This is exactly where Alderaan should be. But as you can see," he gestured vaguely at the viewport, "no planet. I think these meteors, these rocks, I think this used to be Alderaan."

Luke exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan Kenobi, who sat calmly behind the pilot's seat. The older man's expression was grave, his hands resting lightly on the armrests as if he could feel the tension in the air.

"What could do this?" Luke asked.

Obi-Wan's voice was low and measured. "The Empire?"

Han snorted. "Come on. A weapon that can destroy an entire planet? Even the Empire don't have the weapons capable of managing that. Besides, if they had something like that, don't you think we'd have heard about it by now?"

"Perhaps they wanted it to remain a secret," Obi-Wan said, his tone unwavering. "Until they were ready to use it … until now."

Han opened his mouth to reply, but a sharp beeping from the console interrupted him. Frowning, he reached for the controls.

"Wait, what's that?" Luke asked, leaning forward.

"Energy spike," Han muttered. "Big one. Must be some kind of—"

Suddenly, the entire cockpit lit up with a blinding flash of light. Every instrument on the control panel surged to life, flashing erratically, and then died just as quickly. The ship lurched violently, and alarms began to blare as they were thrown off course.

"Chewie!" Han yelled, gripping the controls and pulling hard to the left. The Millennium Falcon spun out of control, careening toward a massive asteroid dead ahead.

"What's happening with this bucket of bolts?!" Luke shouted, grabbing the back of Chewbacca's chair to steady himself.

Han gritted his teeth. "Everything's offline! Chewie we need to reboot otherwise our flying days are over!"

The asteroid loomed closer, its jagged edges illuminated by the dim glow of nearby debris. Han slammed his fist against the console, his hands flying across switches and levers. At the last second, the Falcon's engines roared back to life, and Han yanked the controls, sending the ship into a sharp dive. The asteroid whipped past, so close that Luke could see the grooves and craters on its surface.

"See?" Han said, forcing a grin as he leveled the ship. "Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?!" Luke snapped. "We almost got flattened!"

"Well, we didn't, did we?" Han shot back. "And for the record, this 'bucket of bolts' just saved your life. Again."

"Barely," Luke muttered. "What even happened back there?"

Han shrugged, his usual bravado faltering. "I don't know. The Falcon's got her quirks, sure, but that? That's new. Never seen anything like it before."

Luke turned to Obi-Wan, who had been silent during the chaos. The Jedi Master was staring down the corridor toward the rear of the ship, his brow furrowed and his lips moving as if he was speaking to himself.

"Obi-Wan?" Luke asked, his voice tentative.

"I … felt it," Obi-Wan murmured, almost to himself. "A great disturbance in the Force. As if something ... something I have not felt before, suddenly appeared."

"What does that mean?" Luke pressed, but Obi-Wan didn't answer. Instead, the old man rose from his seat, his movements slow and deliberate.

But before Obi-Wan could take a step down the corridor, a shadow passed over the cockpit, catching everyone's attention. A sleek, triangular TIE fighter streaked by, its engines screeching as it weaved through the last bit of the debris field.

"Great," Han muttered, gripping the controls. "Looks like we've got company."

"Shouldn't we avoid it?" Luke asked, glancing nervously at the approaching fighter.

"If it gets out of here and radios for help, we'll have a whole fleet on our tail," Han said. He pushed the throttle forward, and the Falcon surged after the TIE fighter. "Chewie, angle the deflector shields. We're taking this one down!"

The Falcon banked sharply, closing the distance to the fleeing fighter.

"Stay on target," Obi-Wan said calmly, though his gaze seemed to drift back toward the corridor.

"I'm trying, old man," Han grunted. "This guy's slippery."

The TIE fighter dipped and rolled, weaving through the debris field with precision. Han pursued, his focus razor-sharp, until the fighter suddenly veered off course, heading straight for what looked like a small moon on the horizon.

After several seconds of chasing the TIE fighter, in which they steadily made up ground, Luke and Obi-Wan tensed at the exact same moment.

"Wait," Luke said, squinting at the object. "That's no moon."

Obi-Wan's voice was firm. "It's a space station."

Han's jaw tightened. "A space station? That's impossible, that thing's the size of a planet!"

However, as they drew closer, the space station's full enormity became apparent. Its surface was a maze of intricate machinery, dotted with glowing lights and gaping vents. The TIE fighter disappeared into one of its docking bays, and the Falcon's instruments began to scream in alarm.

"Turn the ship around!" Obi-Wan ordered, his tone uncharacteristically sharp.

"I'm trying!" Han snapped, but the Falcon refused to respond. The ship shuddered violently as it was caught in the space stations's tractor beam, the engines straining against the pull.

"Shut it down," Obi-Wan said quietly.

"What?" Han said, his voice rising.

"Shut it down," Obi-Wan repeated. "If you keep fighting, the ship will tear itself apart. We cannot escape this way."

Han cursed under his breath but complied, flipping the switches to power down the Falcon's engines. The ship lurched once more before going still, the hum of the tractor beam pulling them steadily toward the space station.

Luke slumped back in his seat, his stomach churning with dread. "Now what?"

"We'll have to think of something," Obi-Wan said. His voice was calm, though there was a distracted edge to it. His gaze drifted back toward the corridor once more, his expression unreadable.

As the Falcon was drawn toward the space stations's hangar, the quartet rose from their seats. Chewbacca growled something under his breath that Han waved off irritably.

"Come on," Han said. "Let's figure out how to get out of this mess."

They moved down the corridor, the tension palpable. Luke kept glancing at Obi-Wan, who seemed oddly detached, his focus seemingly split between their current predicament and something else entirely.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked quietly.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the corridor ahead.

As they reached the galley, Luke was about to press him further when the opposite hatch hissed open. All four of them froze.

Standing in the doorway was a boy about Luke's age, his messy black hair sticking out at odd angles. He was dressed in strange, tattered robes and clutching a wooden stick in one hand. His green eyes were wide with confusion, darting between them and the unfamiliar surroundings.

Han didn't hesitate. With a quick draw, his blaster was out and aimed.

"Whoa!" Luke shouted, raising a hand as the unmistakable zapof a blaster bolt rang out. The shot missed the boy by a hair, scorching the wall behind him.

The boy flinched back, eyes wide, but the reason for the miss became apparent as Obi-Wan lowered his arm, having nudged Han's elbow at the last second.

"What the hell, old man?!" Han growled, rounding on Obi-Wan. "We're stuck in a tractor beam, being dragged toward the biggest Imperial space station in existence, and you're stopping me from shooting an intruder on my ship?"

Obi-Wan remained calm, his gaze fixed on the boy. "I … feel there is more to this one than meets the eye. I don't think he means us harm."

Han huffed, his blaster still trained on Harry. "Fine. The old man saved your life this time," he grumbled, glaring at the boy. "You can thank him later—if you live long enough. Who are you, and why shouldn't I try to shoot you again?"

The boy looked between the four of them, his hand tightening on the stick. The towering presence of Chewbacca at the back of the group didn't help to put him at ease. Finally, he swallowed hard and spoke.

"My name is Harry. Harry Potter. And I have absolutely no idea where I am or how I got here. I just appeared back there moments ago."

Han's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Convenient," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You just 'happened' to appear on my ship right after we stumble upon the Empire destroying a planet. I'm guessing you work for the Empire."

"I don't know what that is!" Harry snapped, his voice rising with frustration.

Before Han could retort, Obi-Wan raised a hand. "I believe him."

Han scoffed. "Oh, you believehim? Great. That's reassuring."

Obi-Wan's calm didn't waver. "As strange as it sounds, I sense no deception from this boy. He's as confused as we are with the current situation." He paused before looking at the boy and smiling slightly. "Probably more so. But it doesn't matter, we have more pressing concerns."

Han threw up his hands in exasperation but relented, lowering his blaster slightly. "Fine. But this doesn't mean I trust him." He jabbed a finger at Harry. "We're not done here, kid. Believe me, I've got questions. But the old man's right—we've got bigger problems right now."

Harry nodded mutely, his gaze darting between Han and Obi-Wan.

Luke, still trying to process everything, turned to Han. "What about escape pods? Can't we use those to get out of here?"

Han hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck and looking almost sheepish.

"What?" Luke pressed.

"The Falcon … doesn't have an escape pod," Han admitted, his voice reluctant.

Luke stared at him in disbelief. "What kind of ship doesn't have an escape pod?"

Han shrugged defensively. "It hadone. Ages ago. Never got around to replacing it. Didn't think I'd ever need it. Besides, it's not like the Falcon's ever let me down before."

"Well, it sure looks like it's letting us down now!" Luke shot back.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Han said, cutting him off. "Even if we had an escape pod, as soon as it launched, it'd get caught in the tractor beam just like the rest of the ship. Or worse, it'd drift manage to escape the field and we'd just drift off until we died from exposure, starvation, or suffocation. Either way, an escape pod would not be the answer."

Luke opened his mouth to argue, but Han's logic was uncomfortably sound. He slumped against the wall, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"So, what does that mean?" Luke asked after a moment. "We fight? There's got to be a thousand of Imperials on that thing. I don't know if the four of us—" He glanced at Harry, amending his statement. "I don't know if the fiveof us, plus the droids, can take them all, even if we get the jump on the first few."

Han didn't respond immediately. His gaze was fixed on the floor just outside the galley, his jaw tight in thought.

"Actually," he said slowly, straightening up. "I might have just the idea."

Luke and Harry exchanged a confused glance, while Obi-Wan's expression remained impassive, though his eyes betrayed a hint of curiosity.

"What is it?" Luke asked cautiously.

Han smirked, though there was a dangerous edge to it. "It's risky. Real risky. But if it works …"

He glanced back at Chewbacca, who let out a low growl.

"Yeah," Han said, nodding as if the Wookiee had said something encouraging. "It'll be tight, but it just might work."

"Care to fill us in?" Luke asked impatiently.

Han folded his arms smiling at all of them with his gaze coming to a stop on Harry, "I hope you like small spaces."

Kind Regards,

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If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it's the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.

Story Note 1 – Thanks to everyone who was interested and decided to vote on which story they wanted to see released next. For this story will try something new and be trying to take a little more feedback from everyone. Unfortunately this might mean that there will be some rewrites of certain areas to incorporate the feedback so the release schedule has not yet been firmed down as I think some of these votes might require some serious work. However, do not shy away from reaching out.

Story Note 2 – Han shot first! Other than the fact that he almost ended this story before it even began, I think that was a very Han appropriate response to the situation especially being on edge about being pulled into the moon-sized space station. Luckily for Harry Obi-Wan was there for him.

Story Note 3 – This story will be a Harry centric story although there will be slightly more chapters focusing on other characters than my usual work. Maybe about 1/4 (usually Luke or Leia). And as the pairings probably gave away this will be a Harry/Leia pairing although Han will keep him sarcastic wisecracking relationship with Leia (just minus the romance). Additionally, even though this story will begin to diverge from canon significantly, there will be several ideas/concepts/characters I will be incorporating from the Legends continuity.

A large thanks to those of you out there who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you all are enjoying them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or have reached out to me directly.

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