Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Star Wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. Any other songs, titles, or names that may be recognized belong to their respective owners.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's' imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

May not be duplicated without authors' permission.

No profit is being made from this work; it is for entertainment purposes only.

Authors Note: I hate them to. Few things need to be covered first though, 1) Darth Traya is from the video game Star Wars: The Old Republic II: The Sith Lords. 2) No flames. I enjoy constructive criticism and reviews but if you are just going to insult me and not give me ways to better this piece of fiction then you may leave, and not return. You have been warned. 3) I know this chapter is short. They will all be short. I like my chapters to be to the point and not carry on.

Warnings: AU, Slash, Violence, and Language

Pairings: Harry/Draco (Drarry)

Word Count: 918

A woman, ancient looking, sat cross legged in the middle of a dark, dusty, tomb; the corpses of beasts lay dead, bodies mangled and severed, around her. Her shock white hair was in a black and red headdress, two large portions tied in bands of the same colours. Her pale skin looked ill; her veins visible beneath the layer of flesh looked black. The hood of her black robes was down, revealing her black, soulless, eyes. Her eyes were like black holes; anyone looking in them got lost and terrified, sucking in all the light and life around them.

Her name was Kreia. But the galaxy knew her as only Darth Traya, she was The Dark Lord of the Sith.

As she sat, she felt. She felt the air around her shift, become heavier. A cloud of dark, black, mist formed around her, caressing her skin in the only way a lover can, she understands; the Force wants to speak with her.

She closes her eyes and lets reality slip from her grasp. She hears a voice, as cold and the surface of Hoth but as gentle as the rivers of Naboo, speak to her within her own mind; an odd yet pleasurable feeling.

"Traya, a prophecy has been written; one that involves a boy powerful in the Force, and a man who claims to be a dark lord. The boy shall kill him, at a year of age, but his family will be killed. He will be placed with people who shall abuse him, and destroy him from the inside. He is to destroy this false lord when he arises. He is from a galaxy far away, one that is resource rich, a great boon for the Sith Empire. We shall save him; you shall train him in the ways of a true Sith. When he reaches the age of ten you shall return him to his world, to the ones who thought him lost. He shall lead the Empire to greatness with your help, and shall rule forever more."

Traya opened her eyes to see a small child with piercing green eyes and untamed black hair staring at her with intelligence far beyond his age.

She stood and picked up the child. As her hands wrapped around his small body she felt the power within him. She, for the first time in a very long time, smiled. He would make for an excellent Sith.


Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore stood outside of Potters' Cottage with Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape, all looking at the burnt remains with horrified expressions. They couldn't believe their own eyes. They were too late.

They moved on wordlessly, neither able to find their voices. They entered what would have once been a very comfortable living room. They saw the burnt form of a man.

"James…" Minerva moaned, tears spilling from her eyes.

They moved on. There was nothing they could do now. As they moved on, they heard a sob echoing down the stairs. They looked at each other, and then ran up the stairs and down the hall, pushing open the nursery door. What they saw stopped them in their tracks.

Harry James Potter was surrounded by a dark, black, mist that became thicker and denser with every passing second. All three rushed forward, reaching forward to grab the child, only to be thrown back against the wall.

When they looked up, Harry Potter was gone.


He Who Must Not Be Named Gone, Potter Child Missing

By Rita Skeeter

You Know Who has finally been defeated. At midnight on October 31st, 1981 He Who Must Not Be Named went to the village of Godric's Hollow, to confront the Potters. You Know Who broke into the house and killed James Potter with the Killing Curse before following his wife, Lily, upstairs to the nursery. You Know Who killed Lily with another killing curse before moving on to the child, Harry, and attempted to kill him as well. Only he couldn't. You Know Who's Killing Curse was somehow reflected and hit the Dark Lord instead. When wizards got to the scene the house had been half burnt to the ground. Harry James Potter was nowhere to be found. We know the child is still alive because his name is still on the Hogwarts registry. Could he have been taken by the Dark Lords followers, the Death Eaters? We do know one thing though. We owe the Boy Who Lived everything.


8 Years Later

Darth Traya sat cross legged in the center of a dark and dusty tomb. The same tomb where she had found Harry eight years before; and she allows a small smile at the memory. Her apprentice was powerful, more powerful than she had been at his age.

Her apprentice was before her now, sitting cross legged just like her. He has already displayed a deep, powerful, connection with the Force. She watches on as he reaches a deep meditative state, and begins to softly rise into the air. Minutes pass as she watches her apprentice, waiting for him to finish the task she had set.

An hour passes before he returns the ground and he opens his eyes.

The deep green is surrounded by a thin ring of sulfuric, glowing, yellow-orange.

"I heard him again, Master, he is inside my very soul."

The ancient woman sighs before telling him to close his eyes once more.

She reaches out into her apprentices mind, and pulls herself in.